Chapter 2: Words Like Blades, Killing Without a Trace
Beneath the Hokage Rock stood the towering Hokage Tower—the very heart of Konohagakure and the center of its power.
Long ago, Hashirama Senju and Madara Uchiha once stood atop that tower, declaring their vision to build a village strong enough to protect family, friends, and eventually bring peace to the world. But that grand dream proved to be nothing more than an illusion—like moonlight reflected on water, beautiful yet untouchable.
One died after a lifetime of fruitless struggle.
The other fell into delusion, treading a path of blind obsession.
To Kakashi, they were both fools walking down roads paved in error.
But what did that have to do with him?
In truth, Kakashi had no right to judge them. Not yet. Right now, all he wanted was to survive—by any means necessary.
Given a second life, he wasn't about to die again, especially not pointlessly.
"Eh? Kakashi? What are you doing here?"
As Kakashi stood before the Hokage Tower, gazing silently at the three massive Hokage faces carved into the rock, a familiar voice called out from the entrance. A tall, broad figure strode out, clad in a bright red cloak with a brown inner shirt, wooden clogs on his feet, and long white hair cascading down to his waist. Red markings framed his eyes.
Kakashi recognized him immediately: Jiraiya of the Sannin, one of the Third Hokage's most famous disciples—though far younger than in the original timeline, now still in his prime, a powerful ninja at the peak of his potential.
"Lord Jiraiya," Kakashi said, bowing with perfect composure. "I've come to report my father's death to the Third Hokage."
"What!?" Jiraiya's eyes widened in shock. "You… what did you say!? Sakumo is dead!?"
He took an instinctive step forward, his voice rising sharply in disbelief.
"When…? Who…?"
The words tumbled out, his tone already shifting toward something darker, something dangerous.
"Yesterday. Suicide."
Kakashi's voice was flat, almost indifferent, as if reporting a stranger's fate.
And just like that, Jiraiya froze. The fury in his throat caught suddenly, like it had been choked off. Silence fell.
"S-Suicide…?" he whispered.
The shock deepened. The idea that the great White Fang of the Leaf—the man feared across nations—had taken his own life, was too much to comprehend.
But after just a moment, realization dawned in Jiraiya's eyes. His hands clenched tightly, face turning grim.
Kakashi gave him one final bow, then turned and continued on into the Hokage Tower, his small frame disappearing through the door.
Jiraiya stood there, fists trembling with helpless anger. "Damn it…"
He slammed his knuckles into the stone pillar beside him.
Kakashi climbed the spiral staircase leading to the top floor, where the Hokage's office awaited. No one stopped him along the way—perhaps orders had already been given. After all, this was the office of the Hokage.
Knock knock.
A soft tapping at the door.
"…Kakashi, is that you? Come in."
The voice inside was calm, aged. Familiar. Kakashi didn't hesitate. He opened the door and stepped inside.
The office was bright and spacious, though somber.
At the desk sat a man with a goat-like beard, far from the elderly figure Kakashi had once known. This wasn't the frail, weakened man of the later years. This was Hiruzen Sarutobi in his prime—just past his fifties, still one of the strongest shinobi in the entire village.
Kakashi stepped forward, kneeled with practiced form, and greeted him respectfully. "Lord Third."
Hiruzen looked at the pale, expressionless boy kneeling before him. There was a dull, lifeless haze in the child's eyes, and for a moment, Hiruzen felt a deep weight settle on his chest.
"Kakashi… I was deeply shocked by what happened to Sakumo. I never expected…"
He trailed off, his voice heavy with what could have been regret—or guilt.
He hadn't anticipated Sakumo would go so far as to take his own life.
Sarutobi had hoped to let the rumors die down before stepping in to quietly resolve things. The backlash wasn't just from the village. It involved the very top of the Land of Fire's government. It wasn't a scandal they could easily cover up—even though Hiruzen had explicitly instructed the team members who went on the mission with Sakumo to keep their mouths shut.
But the secret got out anyway.
And Hiruzen knew exactly who had leaked it.
There were only a few within the village who had the power and the motive to manipulate things on such a scale. The moment everything blew up, Hiruzen understood: only that man, his so-called "friend," could've orchestrated it.
Now that the entire village knew, Hiruzen's hands were tied.
Did he want to drive Sakumo to death? Of course not. Sakumo had been one of the few ninja he truly trusted—second only to his own three students. But his hesitation… his passivity… had made him an accomplice. A silent executioner.
He never imagined Sakumo would take the most extreme route.
Kakashi listened to the Hokage's voice—genuine in tone, maybe even filled with sorrow—and felt… nothing.
Technically, yes—his father had died by his own hand. No one forced him.
But—
Words are blades. They kill without leaving a wound.
In both his lives, past and present, Kakashi had no intention of playing the martyr. He didn't want to be a saint, nor did he respect those who pretended to be.
There's always someone responsible.
There's always someone who must
pay.
That would be his guiding principle in this life.
And that—was the new Hatake Kakashi.