"Didn't they say I just need to defeat Hatake Kakashi?"
"In that case…"
"Let's begin."
Hyuga Satoru's calm declaration drew every eye in the room. Those who had already lost interest—the likes of Homura Mitokado and Koharu—now turned back toward the boy, curiosity flickering in their gazes.
Homura gave a soft chuckle, looking at the "innocent" child before him.
"Boy, you're Hyuga Satoru, yes?" he asked mildly. "Do you have any idea who Hatake Kakashi is?"
"He's the Fourth Hokage's personal disciple—a jonin at twelve years old, now fourteen. A prodigy of the village."
"To challenge him at your age is… far too early."
"We know you're interested in the Flying Thunder God Technique, but that's precisely why we set this condition—so you don't aim too high too soon."
"Train well for a few years. There's no need to rush. The Hokage's promise to the Hyuga Clan still stands. Take your time."
Though Homura inwardly dismissed Satoru as a reckless child, he still tempered his tone for the sake of the Hyuga's prestige. Every word was carefully measured—soft enough to sound polite, yet still carrying that unshakable condescension adults reserved for the young.
He assumed the boy didn't even know who Kakashi Hatake was.
What he didn't realize was that Satoru had already recognized the man beneath the ANBU mask—the silver hair, the build, the uniform, and through the Byakugan's gaze, even the familiar, sharp-featured face.
The genius ninja—Hatake Kakashi.
"I know who he is," Satoru said quietly, his pale eyes fixed on Kakashi instead of Homura.
He nodded once, expression unreadable.
What no one knew was that Satoru had already thought through this situation the moment he heard the new condition.
Leave now, pretending to accept defeat? Impossible.
They'd come all this way—to turn back empty-handed would be pathetic.
More importantly, Satoru knew this wasn't an impossible demand. In fact… the timing couldn't be better.
If he waited five or ten years as they suggested—until Kakashi had fully mastered the Sharingan, until he had copied a thousand jutsu—then that would truly be hopeless.
But now?
Kakashi was still young, still learning to control his abilities. And Satoru, though only five, had the Byakugan and the Gentle Fist—techniques that ignored raw strength, that could neutralize an opponent's chakra with a single precise touch.
Against such an art, even the most skilled jonin could fall.
If the rule was simply "defeat Kakashi," then the best time to do it was right now.
Since childhood, Satoru's sparring partner had been none other than Hyuga Hiashi himself.
He could not yet defeat his father, true—even when he gave everything he had, the best he could manage was a draw that looked less humiliating.
But then again, could a fourteen-year-old Kakashi really defeat Hyuga Hiashi?
If he couldn't, then perhaps this so-called "genius jonin" would find himself in trouble.
After all, Satoru was called a "genius" by his clan for a reason—his strength couldn't be measured by age alone.
Hiashi, who had been about to leave, stopped in his tracks.
He looked down at his son, calm and resolute, and after a moment, a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
"Lord Fourth," he said, turning back toward Minato, "my son wishes to give it a try. In that case…"
"…would you be so kind as to arrange it?"
Satoru's confidence snapped Hiashi out of his earlier frustration. Now that he thought about it, the situation wasn't as one-sided as it appeared.
Yes, Kakashi had become a jonin at twelve—but that had been during wartime, when promotions came fast and young shinobi were thrown into battle before they were ready. The title "jonin" in those years didn't carry the same weight it did in peacetime.
And his son—the Hyuga's greatest prodigy in generations—had pushed even him, the clan head, to his limits during training.
If the opponent were anyone but another Gentle Fist master, Hiashi wasn't so sure the outcome would be so certain.
Minato, Hiruzen, even Danzo exchanged brief looks, taken aback by Hiashi's sudden change in attitude.
For the first time, Danzo's eye turned toward Satoru with something more than casual disdain.
Minato exhaled slowly, then nodded. "A light spar, then. We won't need to go far—the courtyard in front of the building will do."
He was confident in Kakashi's ability. A five-year-old child, no matter how talented, couldn't possibly defeat his student.
There was no need for a training ground; this would be over in moments.
When Kakashi won, he would give the Hyuga a few days to cool their tempers before visiting them personally to mend relations.
"That courtyard, then," Hiashi said, glancing out the window before nodding.
"Ah…" Kakashi sighed inwardly, casting a sidelong look at the boy who had just sealed his own fate. Sorry, kid, he thought.
"What's going on? The Hokage and the advisors are all here?"
"Is that the Hyuga clan head?"
"Who's that kid?"
As the two Hokage, several elders, and the Hyuga father and son stepped out onto the open courtyard in front of the Hokage Building, curious shinobi began to gather, sensing that something unusual was about to happen.
At the center of the space, Kakashi—now unmasked, his silver hair gleaming in the sunlight—faced Hyuga Satoru, who wore a loose training kimono. The two stood only a meter apart, still and focused.
"Form the seal of opposition," Minato called out, acting as referee.
Neither paid any attention to the growing crowd. Both bowed slightly, then clasped their hands together in the traditional ninja salute.
"Begin!"
The moment Minato's voice rang out, Kakashi surged forward like lightning.
He didn't hold back. Like his teacher, he preferred to end things quickly.
Finish it fast, don't humiliate the kid, he thought. But no need to drag this out.
However, Satoru's expression didn't so much as flicker. He raised his arms calmly, his pupils focusing—veins bulging faintly at his temples.
The Byakugan awakened.
A collective murmur rippled through the watching crowd.
"Byakugan?"
"He's so young—he's already awakened it?"
"That's impossible…"
Even Hiruzen and Danzo were visibly surprised.
Kakashi's pupils contracted sharply—but by then, it was too late to change course. His momentum carried him straight into range, his fist snapping toward Satoru's face.
"You're underestimating me," Satoru said quietly.
In that instant, his body shifted like water—smooth, efficient, perfectly timed.
So this is the famous Copy Ninja? he thought coldly as his chakra flared. If that's all, then… he's not as untouchable as they say.
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