Qianyu asked Kakashi if he thought his father, Sakumo, had done right or wrong.
Kakashi hung his head. For a long time, he said nothing.
Finally, he muttered, "I don't know."
As a shinobi, Kakashi knew the rules. The mission came first. Always.
But saving a comrade… his father couldn't be wrong for that, could he? So many shinobi before had abandoned missions or failed them for their teammates. They weren't punished. Why was his father different?
Qianyu crouched, looking the boy in the eye. "I know you're lost. Sakumo-sama was just living by his nindo. His own shinobi way."
Kakashi's eyes were wide, confused. "Then… was father wrong to follow the Will of Fire?"
"I don't know either," Qianyu said, shaking his head. "But if Sakumo-sama was wrong for following the Will of Fire, then the spirit Konoha was built on is wrong. Kakashi, do you understand the Will of Fire?"
Kakashi nodded, then shook his head. "I thought I did. Now… I don't know what I know."
Qianyu ruffled his silver hair. "If you can't figure it out, don't force it. You'll understand one day. What it is. Whether it's right or wrong. Take care of him. I'll be back."
He left the Hatake compound.
Kakashi stared at his father's room. His mind was a storm.
If the Will of Fire wasn't wrong, and his father wasn't wrong… then who was?
The confusion only grew. It made no sense.
More than that, he was worried. Deeply. Worried his father would never recover.
For the next several days, Qianyu visited Kakashi almost daily. He even stepped into Sakumo's room once.
Sakumo lay on his bed, a shell. Empty. He didn't respond to Kakashi's voice, didn't react to Qianyu's presence.
Qianyu summoned a snake, ordering it to watch the house twenty-four seven. He monitored the village gossip, too.
The rumors didn't die. They festered. Grew louder, uglier.
And Kakashi… he withered. Every day was worse. Stepping outside meant whispers and pointed fingers.
Sakumo remained shut in his room. Silent. A ghost in his own home.
In Qianyu's house, Kushina untied her apron. She handed him two stacked lunch boxes.
"I made extra. For Kakashi."
"Got it."
Kushina sighed. "Those people… it's too much. Even if Sakumo-sama made a mistake, it's not their place to judge. He gave so much to this village."
Qianyu agreed. "A villain does one good deed, he's praised. A good man makes one mistake, he's damned. That's just how it is. People care about their own skin. The rest just want a show."
They were about to eat when the surveillance snake returned.
"Qianyu-sama. Four people entered."
Qianyu's eyes narrowed. "Is one of them missing an arm? In a wheelchair?"
The snake dipped its head.
Qianyu was on his feet in an instant. "Kushina, I'm going to the Hatake's."
He was gone before she could say a word. The lunch boxes sat forgotten on the table.
Qianyu moved like a shadow to the Hatake compound. Kakashi wasn't home—the boy often went to the woods to vent his frustration. He'd be alone there now.
Using his Observation Haki, Qianyu felt them. Four chakra signatures in Sakumo's room. His old teammates.
He crept closer. Listened.
"Sir, this whole mess… it wasn't our call. We followed your order to abort."
"Now we're being punished because of it. It's not fair."
"We need you to explain to the Hokage. To the elders. We were just following orders. The mission failure has nothing to do with us."
Sakumo said nothing. He just stared at them. These men he'd fought beside. They looked like strangers.
His gaze finally settled on Sokki. The man in the wheelchair, legs crippled, one arm an empty sleeve.
Sokki's expression was complicated. When he'd been rescued, he'd been grateful. Profoundly. But back in Konoha, after the tribunal, after being stripped of his shinobi status, after the stares from neighbors and even family… it had curdled. Turned sour.
"Sir," Sokki's voice was quiet, hollow. "I've thought about it. Many times. I wish I had died back there. Better that than… this. A cripple. A burden. Seeing the pity in everyone's eyes."
"If I'd died there, you'd have the scroll. My name would be on the Memorial Stone. A hero."
"Now? It's all gone. I'm just… waiting to die. And no one will remember me."
Sakumo's eyes were bloodshot. He finally spoke, his voice a dry rasp. "You think I was wrong, too? You begged me to save you."
Sokki's face hardened. "That was instinct. Survival. I don't want to be saved. Not now. The shinobi code is clear: the mission comes first. You're an Elite Jonin. You knew the rules."
"You shouldn't have saved me. Aborting the mission was wrong. And I… I hate you for it. Give me another chance, and I'd beg you to let me die."
Sakumo's breath hitched, sharp and painful. "I see. Leave."
"Please, sir. Think of our futures. Don't let this ruin us, too."
They filed out. Didn't look back.
Hidden outside, Qianyu listened. His own chest felt tight with a cold, furious indignation.
He saved them. And they were kicking him while he was down. Every last one of them. Ungrateful. Selfish.
This was Konoha.
A village of smiles and teamwork, built on a foundation of shallow loyalty and brittle bonds.
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