Konohagakure
The sun hung low in the sky, casting the village in a warm orange glow that stretched shadows long and thin across the dirt paths. Rei adjusted the strap of her satchel as she walked, her steps hesitant but deliberate. Raiden's words echoed endlessly in her mind, looping like a relentless mantra: "Three days. Sixth hour. Sakumo's house. Don't be late."
She had replayed that moment countless times since waking up on her kitchen floor three nights ago. The sharp edge of Raiden's arrogance, the overwhelming pressure of his expectations, and the cryptic clue he left behind clung to her like heavy weights. She half-expected her newfound ancestor to appear again in a flash of swirling mist, laughing at her hesitation. But so far, there was only silence.
Rei couldn't shake the unease pressing against her chest. Every step she took toward the Hatake household sent a deeper chill down her spine. When she had seen Raiden, it had felt like part of something larger—like she was being set on a path toward greatness. But now? Now it only felt like walking blindly into something she wasn't ready to face.
The village itself seemed to reflect her unease. The streets were quieter than usual for such a mild evening. The air felt heavy, tense, as though the villagers could sense something stirring beyond their control. Whispers followed her as she passed by—quiet murmurs about Sakumo Hatake. His name had become a stain on people's tongues, a blend of pity and disdain, and it made Rei's stomach churn violently every time she heard it. If she couldn't escape the weight of his shame, how could Kakashi?
She thought about Kakashi more than she cared to admit. These past few days, whenever her thoughts wandered, they inevitably returned to him—his piercing gaze, his biting words, and the pain he had unknowingly left carved deep into her chest. She hated that she still cared, and yet, she couldn't help but wonder if following Raiden's instructions might somehow bring them face to face again. She didn't know if she wanted that. She didn't know what she wanted anymore.
The Hatake house loomed ahead, nestled in quiet seclusion on the outskirts of the village. It looked the same as Rei remembered—a modest, humble home that seemed almost out of place for someone as renowned as Sakumo Hatake had once been. But something felt... wrong. There were no lamps lit inside, no signs of life. The windows, usually warm with light when Rei had visited in the past, were eerily dark. The stillness around her was suffocating.
Rei hesitated at the front gate. Her fingers gripped the wooden slats, her knuckles flexing as she debated whether to go through with it. A part of her—a voice much quieter than Raiden's yet just as stubborn—urged her to turn around. To walk away. To let whatever this was remain unknown.
With a forceful exhale, Rei stepped forward and pushed open the gate. It creaked loudly in the silence, the sound seeming to echo unnaturally in the dusk. Her pulse quickened as she approached the front door, her hand trembling slightly as she reached for the handle. There was no time for hesitation now. Whatever Raiden had meant for her to find here, she was about to find it.
The door was slightly ajar. Rei froze, her breath catching in her throat. She pushed the door open carefully, the dim interior of the home slowly coming into view. The house was eerily quiet, and the faint metallic smell that hit her nose sent alarm bells ringing in her head.
"Sakumo-san?" she called out tentatively, her voice echoing faintly in the stillness.
No response.
She stepped inside, her heart thundering in her chest. The living room was as she remembered it—simple and neat, with sparse furniture and a small, unassuming table. But something was off. The air felt thick, heavy with something Rei couldn't quite name. It was the same feeling she'd had on the night she found her father. That night.
Suddenly, the sound of something faint—a ragged, choked gasp—reached her ears. The panic hit Rei like a wave, freezing her in place for a moment before instinct took over. She sprinted down the narrow hall, past the room she knew belonged to Kakashi, heading toward the faint sound. Her feet skidded to a halt as she reached the door to Sakumo's bedroom.
The sight before her knocked the wind out of her.
Kakashi was crouched on the floor beside the bed, his small frame trembling, his head bowed low as his hands hovered uncertainly over a limp, bleeding form. Sakumo Hatake lay sprawled across the floor, his skin pale, his chest barely rising. The deep crimson of blood stained the floorboards beneath him, sluggish streaks trailing from his wrists. A broken kunai lay discarded nearby, the jagged blade glinting in the faint light filtering through the curtains.
Rei's breath hitched, her mind briefly disconnecting as a searing memory overtook her.
Her father, Yusuke, slumped, his face serene yet lifeless. The lingering smell of iron. The unbearable weight of silence that followed her scream.
Her knees threatened to buckle, but she forced herself to stay upright. This wasn't then. She wasn't the helpless little girl who couldn't save her father. Not this time.
"Kakashi!" she yelled, her voice tight with panic as she rushed forward.
The sound jolted Kakashi from his stupor. His head snapped up, his dark eyes locking onto hers. For a moment, there was no recognition in them, only raw, unfiltered despair. His mouth opened as if to speak, but no sound came out. He looked like a child shattered, utterly lost.
"Kakashi," Rei said again, softer this time as she crouched next to him. Her hands hovered over Sakumo's body for a moment before she forced herself to act. The blood was everywhere, staining her hands as she pressed against his wound in a desperate attempt to stem the bleeding. "We need to get him help. He's still breathing. Kakashi, listen to me—he's still breathing."
Kakashi said nothing, his gaze darting from Rei to his father's prone form. His entire body was trembling, his arms wrapped tightly around himself, as though trying to hold himself together.
"Snap out of it!" Rei snapped, her voice breaking slightly as she tried to keep her own panic in check. "I need you to focus. I'm going to get help, but you have to stay here and watch him, okay? Do you hear me?"
Kakashi's lips parted, and a faint, broken whisper escaped. "He... he wanted this. He told me..."
Rei's chest tightened at the words, but she pushed the rising lump in her throat down. "He's not gone yet. Don't let him leave, Kakashi. Just... stay with him. Talk to him. Don't let him leave," she whispered fiercely.
Without waiting for a reply, Rei forced herself to her feet, her bloodstained hands shaking as she turned and bolted from the room. Her feet pounded against the floorboards as she sprinted out of the house and into the night, heading in the one direction she knew could provide immediate help: the Uchiha compound.
The cold evening air hit her like a slap, but she didn't stop. Her legs burned with the effort, her breath catching in her throat as she ran faster and faster, her thoughts swirling in a chaotic storm. She didn't have Raiden's guidance now—his voice was gone, his cryptic warnings left behind in her subconscious—but even so, she couldn't deny the fire burning beneath her panic. It wasn't power she could name, not yet, but something deep within her pushed her forward, refusing to let her falter.
The image of Sakumo's pale face haunted her with every step. Memories of her father overlapped with the present, threatening to overwhelm her, but she shoved them aside forcefully. She couldn't save her father—not then. But this was now. She still had a chance to save Sakumo. She couldn't let history repeat itself.
Her mind raced as she neared the Uchiha compound. Her hands trembled, sticky with blood and sweat, and her heart pounded so loudly she could barely hear anything else. But she didn't stop. She wouldn't stop.
The familiar gates of the Uchiha compound loomed ahead, their clean, symmetrical design a stark contrast to the chaos swirling in Rei's chest. Barely pausing to catch her breath, Rei shoved them open, the wooden panels rattling against their hinges. She stumbled inside, drawing startled glances from a few Uchiha clan members who were just beginning to retire for the evening.
"Help!" she yelled, her voice hoarse and cracking. "Please, someone—help!"
The blood soaking her hands and shirt immediately caught everyone's attention. A sense of unease rippled through the compound as whispers spread among the few onlookers. Rei couldn't care less about appearances or their stares as her desperate cries echoed through the wide, open square.
From across the courtyard, a commanding voice cut through the murmurs. "What is going on here?"
Rei's head snapped around to see Fugaku Uchiha approaching. His face was hard, impassive, but his sharp eyes narrowed as they took in Rei's trembling form. The sight of the blood staining her hands caused his pace to quicken, and as he neared, his expression shifted into something colder, more urgent.
"Rei." His tone was both a question and an order, firm but nonchalant in a way that made her falter for only a moment.
"Sakumo-san," Rei gasped, trying to steady her breathing. "It's Sakumo-san—he's hurt. Badly. You have to come now!"
The name Hatake was enough to make Fugaku pause briefly, his eyes narrowing further as he processed what she was saying. He stepped closer, his hands resting at his sides as if ready to act but carefully weighing the situation.
"How bad is it?" Fugaku asked, his tone deadly serious now.
Rei's voice wavered as she replied, her panic bubbling back to the surface. "He—he's bleeding out. It's everywhere... I tried to stop it, but I couldn't—" her words started tumbling over each other, barely coherent. She swallowed hard, forcing herself to focus. "If we don't hurry—he's not going to make it!"
Fugaku's sharp gaze flicked to the blood-covered girl again, this time softening slightly. He gave a curt nod. "Show me."
Without hesitation, Rei turned on her heel and bolted back toward the gates, Fugaku close behind her. His calm yet swift movements stood in stark contrast to her frantic pace, but she didn't care. All she could think about was getting back to Sakumo and Kakashi before it was too late.
As they exited the compound, another voice called out, stopping them briefly.
"Rei? What's going on?"
Rei's spine stiffened, the familiar voice snapping her out of her tunnel vision momentarily. She looked over her shoulder to see Obito approaching from the compound entrance, a mix of confusion and worry etched on his face. He was carrying a bag slung over his shoulder, likely returning from training or errands, but as his eyes fell on the blood stained across her clothes and hands, his expression shifted to outright alarm.
"Rei! Are you hurt?" Obito's voice cracked as he drew closer, his concern obvious in the way his dark eyes darted over her, searching for wounds.
"It's not mine," Rei said hurriedly, shaking her head. "It's Sakumo-san's. He... he needs help. I can't explain right now—" Her voice broke slightly, but she waved her hands as if to signal him to stop asking questions. "I'll explain later—just... stay here!"
Obito blinked at her, his mouth opening to say something, but Fugaku cut him off.
"Obito," Fugaku commanded, his tone brooking no argument, "stay out of the way. This is something you're not equipped for."
Obito bristled slightly at the tone but quickly stepped out of the way, his worry evident as he watched Fugaku and Rei disappear down the path toward the Hatake residence.
The night air was colder now, the faint rustle of leaves the only sound besides the pounding of their footsteps. Rei's breaths came hard and fast, her exhaustion catching up to her as her adrenaline waned, but she pushed herself to keep going. The mental image of Sakumo lying so pale and lifeless on the floor drove her forward, overriding everything else.
"Explain what happened," Fugaku demanded as they ran, his voice cutting through the night.
Rei answered between gasps of air, her words hurried and uneven. "I was... I was told to go there. I didn't know why. When I got there—Kakashi was just sitting there, and—and Sakumo-san was already on the ground, bleeding. I tried to stop it, but I couldn't. There was... there was so much blood."
A flash of something flickered across Fugaku's face at the mention of Kakashi, but he quickly buried it. "You did the right thing by coming to get help," he said, his voice brisk but not unkind. "Focus. Keep leading the way."
Rei didn't reply, her focus narrowing back to the path ahead. The Hatake home was just ahead now, its dark, empty silhouette looming ominously against the moonlit sky. Her stomach twisted painfully at the thought of what they might find inside.
They rushed through the gate and into the house, the door still ajar from Rei's earlier exit. The familiar metallic tang of blood hit her again, making her stomach churn, but she forced herself to stay composed.
"Kakashi!" she called out as they entered the hall.
No response.
Rei's heart leapt into her throat as she and Fugaku entered the room. Kakashi was exactly where she'd left him, crouched beside his father's still body. His silvery hair fell in disarray, shadowing his face, but the tension in his small frame was palpable.
Fugaku knelt beside Sakumo without hesitation, his sharp eyes assessing the situation with the precision of a veteran shinobi. He pressed his fingers to Sakumo's neck, his expression tightening as he checked for a pulse.
"He's alive," Fugaku said after a tense moment, his voice steady. "But barely."
Rei released a shuddering breath she hadn't realized she was holding. Her legs felt like they might give out beneath her, but she moved closer, waiting for instruction.
"Rei," Fugaku barked, snapping her focus back to him. His gaze was critical but calm. "Grab towels or anything in this house that can absorb blood. Quickly. We'll need to stabilize him until medics arrive."
She nodded and bolted from the room, ignoring the way her blood-soaked hands shook as she tore through the cabinets and drawers in search of anything useful. Kakashi's frozen figure lingered in her mind—his silence, his palpable despair.
Her heart ached for him, but she wouldn't let that slow her down. There would be time to figure out their fractured friendship later. Right now, Sakumo needed her.
With an armful of supplies, Rei dashed back into the room, ready to do whatever she could to help. She dropped to her knees beside Fugaku, her hands shaking as she passed over the towels she had gathered.
"Here," she said softly, her eyes flicking to Kakashi, who remained crouched beside his father, his expression unreadable.
Fugaku nodded curtly, his hands moving with practiced ease as he applied the towels to Sakumo's wounds. Rei watched, mesmerized by the precision and calm of his movements, as he attempted to stem the bleeding.
As they worked, the air in the room was heavy with tension. The silence was oppressive, punctuated only by Fugaku's instructions and the faint, labored breathing from Sakumo. Rei's eyes met Kakashi's once, a fleeting moment of shared desperation and concern before he looked away, his chest heaving in quiet sobs.
Rei felt a pang of sorrow at his pain, her heart swelling with a mix of emotions she couldn't quite navigate. She had no idea how to comfort him, not after everything that had happened between them, but for the first time, she saw him not as the boy who had hurt her, but as someone who was losing the person he loved.
Outside, the sound of approaching footsteps echoed through the night air. Rei's head lifted, her ears straining to confirm the approaching help. Within moments, a team of medical ninja arrived at the door, their skilled hands moving swiftly as they took over Sakumo's care.
"Let's get him stabilized and to the hospital," one of them directed, their voices efficient and reassuring.
Rei watched as Sakumo was carefully lifted onto a stretcher, his limp form swaying slightly as they moved. She stayed frozen beside Kakashi, her hand reaching out involuntarily. Though he didn't take it, she kept it extended, a silent offer of support that remained unspoken.
Fugaku stepped forward, his eyes locked on Sakumo, before turning to the medical team. "I'll accompany him to the hospital. Kakashi, you should come too."
Kakashi nodded wordlessly, still struggling to contain his emotions as he rose to his feet. His eyes flickered to Rei once, and for an instant, she thought she saw something there—a mixture of gratitude and uncertainty. But it was gone before she could grasp it.
As the stretcher was carried out, Rei followed, her feet moving automatically alongside Kakashi. Fugaku led the way, his calm demeanor a stark contrast to the turmoil brewing inside Rei.
Outside, the cool night air hit her like a slap, jolting her back to reality. The medical ninja moved swiftly, carrying Sakumo toward the waiting hospital team. Rei trailed them, her fingers still extended, though Kakashi hadn't taken her hand.
At the hospital, the reception area was a whirlwind of activity—flashing lights, urgent voices, and the clanging of instruments as the medical staff sprang into action. Rei watched from a distance, her eyes fixed on the door leading to the surgical area, where Sakumo was being wheeled away.
Kakashi stood beside her, his body tense, but he didn't push her away. For a moment, they were united in their uncertainty, both watching as the doors swung shut behind Sakumo.
Fugaku appeared beside them, his expression somber. "Let's wait here. We'll know more soon."
Rei nodded mechanically, still trying to process everything. As she looked down at her stained hands, a shiver ran through her. The blood was sticky and cold, a grim reminder of the night's events.
She glanced at Kakashi, who was staring blankly at the floor, his shoulders hunched in defeat. Something deep within Rei stirred, a feeling that went beyond the pain and the hate. It was concern, mixed with a lingering hope that things could be mended between them someday.
But for now, all they could do was wait—wait for news, for hope, for a chance to heal wounds both old and new.
The hours passed slowly, the hospital lights casting an eerie glow over the waiting room. Rei and Kakashi sat side by side, yet oceans apart. They didn't speak, their silence heavy with unspoken questions, fears, and regrets.