On a high ridge overlooking the smoldering ruins of Konoha, a cool wind swept over the hills, carrying with it the acrid scent of ash. The moonlight revealed a village scarred by fire and conflict, its once-proud streets now silent and blackened.
Sarutobi Shinnosuke stood motionless, his figure outlined against the dim glow of scattered embers in the distance. His eyes, dark and heavy with exhaustion, remained fixed on the devastation below. The weight of the night's chaos pressed on his shoulders like a physical burden.
He drew a deep breath, but it came out uneven, tinged with bitterness.
"Kakashi… I never imagined that Root could orchestrate such a rebellion," Shinnosuke murmured, his voice low and hoarse with regret.
"Such a large-scale betrayal happened under my watch… As Anbu captain, this failure rests entirely on me."
Beside him, Kakashi stood silent, his single exposed eye unreadable behind his mask.
"You shouldn't shoulder all of this yourself," Kakashi said evenly. "Lord Hokage's leniency with Danzo allowed him to move unchecked for far too long. Even the sharpest guard can't stop a shadow he's been told not to see."
Shinnosuke gave a bitter, hollow smile at those words, his gaze softening with a trace of self-contempt.
"All this time, I've tried to uphold the Sarutobi name, to prove myself worthy of my father's trust… of Konoha's trust. And yet, even after all these years of training, I remain… painfully average. Compared to you, Kakashi, or even Asuma…"
His words trailed off, but the pain behind them was clear. The night wind tugged at his flak jacket, and for a moment, Shinnosuke's stoic façade faltered, revealing a flicker of loneliness.
Kakashi listened without interruption, though inwardly he studied Shinnosuke with quiet suspicion. This wasn't a simple venting of guilt. The captain, normally restrained and guarded, hadn't sought him out just to confess his insecurities.
A heavy silence fell between them, broken only by the whisper of wind through the grass. Finally, Shinnosuke spoke again, his tone lower now, as though wary of the darkness itself overhearing.
"Kakashi… there's something else. A matter I cannot entrust to anyone else."
Kakashi turned his head slightly, his single eye narrowing. "I'm listening."
Shinnosuke hesitated for a heartbeat, then reached into his flak jacket. He withdrew a small glass cylinder, its surface catching the pale light of the moon. Inside floated a single Sharingan, its crimson tomoe glowing faintly like embers in the night.
Kakashi's breath hitched. His hand instinctively twitched toward his mask."That… that eye… Could it be?"
Shinnosuke nodded grimly, his gaze hard but pained."This is Uchiha Fugaku's Sharingan. Last night, amidst the chaos, I was ordered to secure documents and valuables from the Hokage's office. That's when I found it… hidden away."
His grip on the glass container tightened slightly."I believe… Father was contemplating implanting this eye. Perhaps he felt his strength was no longer enough to protect the village."
The admission hung heavy in the air. Kakashi stared at the glimmering eye, unease creeping up his spine.
So… Hiruzen-sensei had planned to take Fugaku's Sharingan for himself.
That possibility alone spoke volumes about how desperate the situation in Konoha had become.
Yet another thought gnawed at Kakashi.
Did Shinnosuke truly take this eye on his own… or was he encouraged—manipulated—to do so?
The copy-nin's head began to throb suddenly, his chakra flaring in response to the dormant power sealed within his own Sharingan. It was as though the crimson gaze in the bottle was reaching for him, calling to him. He forced himself to steady his breath, banishing the disorientation before it showed on his face.
Shinnosuke didn't notice Kakashi's inner turmoil. His expression betrayed only worry, not for himself, but for his aging father—the Third Hokage.
"I don't know if this was Father's intention, or if he simply wanted it secured… but if word of this Sharingan spreads, if certain individuals learn of it…" He shook his head gravely.
Seeing Kakashi's prolonged silence, Shinnosuke finally mustered the courage to speak again. His voice trembled slightly, but it carried urgency and a raw plea that pierced through the heavy quiet of the room.
"So… I have a request." He drew in a shaky breath. "I want you to help me transplant this Sharingan."
Kakashi's lone visible eye narrowed in surprise, but Shinnosuke pressed on, his words tumbling out with the weight of months—no, years—of suppressed emotion.
"Father is exhausted, Kakashi. He's carried this burden alone for so long… I can't just stand by and watch him crumble under that pressure." His hands curled into fists. "I want to do my part. Even if it's only a fraction of the weight he bears, I'll shoulder it."
Kakashi froze, stunned by the quiet ferocity in Shinnosuke's voice.
The young Sarutobi's usual calm demeanor was gone. What sat before Kakashi now was a man torn between filial duty and the crushing expectations of a village leader's son—a man who would gamble his own future for family and Konoha.
After a pause, Kakashi's voice came out measured, tinged with reluctance.
"Shinnosuke… You realize this isn't just a medical procedure." He placed a hand over his masked mouth, his brow furrowed. "Strictly speaking, this goes against protocol. The Uchiha clan's eyes are not meant to be transplanted so freely. This could ignite political friction at best, or…"
"I know the risks," Shinnosuke interrupted, his expression clouding with bitterness. "This isn't about politics. It's a personal decision. And you…" His gaze hardened on Kakashi. "You're the only one I trust who has walked this path. No orders. No council approvals. Just me, asking as a son."
Kakashi's silence deepened, his heart tightening. He studied Shinnosuke carefully—the man was earnest, yes, but there was also an unwavering steel behind his desperation.
The famous Copy Ninja knew the cost of this all too well. The constant chakra drain. The sleepless nights. The weight of another's will pressed upon your very soul. He almost wanted to stop him.
But there was also something… admirable in Shinnosuke's conviction.
Kakashi sighed quietly. "Are you certain about this? Once I start, there's no going back. A Sharingan is more than an eye; it's a curse and a beacon. You'll carry its burden… and all the danger that comes with it."
Shinnosuke met his gaze with firm resolve. "I've already made my decision. I don't care about the risk. If I can protect Father, even a little… If I can help Konoha stand stronger… That's all that matters."
That unwavering determination reminded Kakashi of himself, years ago, with Obito's eye burning in his socket after the Third Great Ninja War.
Finally, Kakashi moved toward the table where Fugaku's Sharingan lay sealed in a small container. His gloved fingers hovered over it for a moment, his lone eye reflecting a trace of emotion.
He picked it up, and in his expression flashed a subtle conflict—reverence for the fallen, guilt for this clandestine act, and an unspoken prayer that this gamble wouldn't shatter Shinnosuke's future.
"…Very well." Kakashi's voice was steady now. "Let's begin."
The dimly lit room filled with the soft clink of tools as Kakashi prepared the procedure with meticulous precision. Shinnosuke sat upright, gripping the chair's arms tightly, his face pale but resolute.
When the transplant began, pain consumed him almost instantly.
A surge of raw, alien power tore through his body, and his chakra was siphoned like water rushing down a drain. His vision swam as sweat poured down his temples, his breathing sharp and ragged.
Shinnosuke clenched his teeth so hard his jaw ached, but he refused to scream. He gripped the metal railing so tightly his knuckles turned bone-white, leaving deep indentations in the steel.
Kakashi worked quickly, his expression somber. "Steady… focus your chakra. Let it flow evenly."
Shinnosuke could barely hear him over the pounding in his head. His new eye burned like molten iron, his chakra system strained to its breaking point.
"Shinnosuke…" Kakashi's voice dropped, soft yet probing. "What is your true wish?"
The question hung in the air like a solemn judgment.
Through the haze of agony, Shinnosuke forced himself to speak. His voice was hoarse, trembling, but resolute:
"I… just want… to help Father… to protect the village… even if it means… sacrificing everything…"
In that moment, something flickered within Kakashi's Sharingan.
A faint, foreign pulse—a contract sealed in silent acknowledgment.
Almost immediately, Shinnosuke's breathing steadied. The overwhelming drain on his chakra began to slow, as though the Sharingan itself was beginning to accept him.
His body trembled violently, but his chakra flow stabilized. The once-searing pain dulled to a heavy throb, and his new eye began to glow with quiet power.
Kakashi stepped back, his shoulders relaxing just slightly. "You adapted… faster than I expected."
Shinnosuke exhaled shakily, leaning back in his chair, exhaustion washing over him. But even in his fatigue, there was a small, triumphant smile tugging at his lips.
"Did it… succeed?" he whispered. "I can finally… help Father."
His new Sharingan gleamed in the dim light—silent proof of his resolve.