Chapter 27: The Real Test
The shattered remnants of his Earth-Style Wall rained down around him. Kakashi had managed to halt the lightning falcon's advance, but the fact that a genin had forced him to use such a defense—and had broken through it—was a profound shock. He was still processing this when he felt a sudden, firm grip on his ankles.
What?!
Before he could react, he was violently pulled downward. The world flipped, and in an instant, he was buried up to his neck in the cold, packed earth. The lightning falcon, its target vanished, crackled and dissipated into the air.
Kamikawa Hiraoka stood over him, a single shadow clone dispersing into smoke beside the hole. He had executed the plan perfectly: use the overwhelming power of the Thunder Falcon Thrust as a distraction while a hidden clone prepared the Earth Release: Headhunter Jutsu.
Hiraoka bent down, his movements casual as he plucked the two silver bells from Kakashi's immobilized belt. He jingled them lightly. "It seems these are mine now, Kakashi-sensei."
Kakashi could only stare, a mixture of frustration and deep, grudging respect warring within him. The boy hadn't just used power; he had used brilliant, layered strategy.
Later, at the memorial stone, the mood was somber. Hiraoka tossed the bells in his hand, the metallic jingle the only sound breaking the silence.
"So, Kakashi-sensei," Hiraoka began, his voice cutting through the tension. "Two bells. That means one of us fails, correct? One of us goes back to the academy."
Uzumaki Naruto flinched. Uchiha Sasuke's jaw tightened.
"Eliminate me," Naruto blurted out, his voice thick with a forced bravado. "I... I didn't do anything. It's only right."
"No," Sasuke countered, his pride stung. "I was the first one captured. My failure was greater. I should be the one to go."
They argued back and forth, each offering to take the fall. Kakashi watched them, his heart stirring with a painful, familiar memory.
Hiraoka let them argue for a moment before he spoke again, his tone now serious and deliberate. "You know, there's a saying," he said, his gaze fixed on Kakashi. "Those who break the rules are scum. But those who abandon their comrades are worse than scum."
He paused, letting the words, which he knew were sacred to Kakashi, hang in the air. Then, with a flick of his wrist, he tossed the two bells back to their sensei. They landed at Kakashi's feet with a dull clink.
"We are a team. All three of us. If one of us is not good enough, then the team is not complete. And if the team is not complete, what use are these bells? What use is passing a test that forces us to abandon a comrade before we've even begun?"
For a long moment, Kakashi was silent. He looked at Hiraoka, and for a fleeting second, he didn't see the arrogant prodigy. He saw the ghost of a passionate, idealistic boy with goggles and an orange jumpsuit. He saw Uchiha Obito.
He looked up at the sky, a soft, almost imperceptible sigh escaping his lips. Obito... Rin... did you see that?
When he looked back at his team, his usual lazy demeanor was gone, replaced by a genuine, warm smile. "Congratulations," he said, his voice firm. "All three of you pass."
Naruto and Sasuke stared, utterly bewildered. "B-But the rules... the bells..." Naruto stammered.
"The true purpose of this test was never to take the bells," Kakashi explained. "It was to see if you understood what it means to be a team. To see if you valued your comrades above a mission, above rules, above your own pride. You demonstrated that. All of you. And that is the most important lesson you will ever learn."
The relief was palpable. Naruto whooped with joy. Even Sasuke allowed a small, rare smile to touch his lips.
"To celebrate," Kakashi announced, his eye crinkling, "I'm treating you all to barbeque!"
That night, walking home with a full stomach, Hiraoka felt a sense of accomplishment. He had passed the test on his own terms. But as he approached his small apartment, a flicker of unease went through him. A light was on inside. He was certain he hadn't left it on.
Moving silently, he crept to the window and peered inside. His blood ran cold.
Sitting calmly in his favorite chair, as if he owned the place, was Shimura Danzo. Two masked Root operatives stood like statues behind him.
Hiraoka steeled himself and pushed the door open. "To what do I owe this... intrusion?" he asked, his voice cold.
Danzo didn't bother with pleasantries. His single eye pinned Hiraoka in place. "Your performance today was noted. Such talent is wasted on trivial D-ranks and sentimental lessons." He stood, leaning heavily on his cane. "My offer from the Hokage's office still stands. The Foundation is where your potential will be honed to its sharpest edge, not dulled by sentiment."
He walked to the door, pausing on the threshold. He didn't turn around. "Consider my proposal carefully, Kamikawa Hiraoka. I expect a satisfactory answer. And soon."
The threat in his tone was as clear as glass. He and his guards melted into the night shadows, leaving Hiraoka alone in his suddenly vulnerable home.
"I didn't expect him to come himself," Hiraoka murmured to the empty room, the weight of the old warhawk's attention settling heavily upon him. The game had just become much more dangerous.
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I wonder how much the original story would have changed if Danzo just didn't exist.
Well, this is the part where you give me Stones now chop chop.