Since Sogetsu wouldn't budge, Hiruzen didn't press it. "Very well. If that's your choice, so be it."
He relit his pipe, took two lazy pulls. "Second: this year's Chūnin Exams—I want you as a proctor."
"...Huh?"
Sogetsu blinked. That was not the turn he expected.
Chūnin proctors were usually from the Hokage's own circles. In the original timeline, Genma Shiranui, Tetsu, Izumo Kamizuki—most had ties to the office. It burnished the Hokage's brand and cultivated his people. Even when it didn't, the Uchiha seldom got the slot.
What are you plotting now, old man? Sogetsu kept his face smooth. "But I'm ANBU, Hokage-sama. That's… off-process."
"No matter. Don't overthink it." Hiruzen waved the concern away. "It's trust—and a test."
"A test?" Sogetsu tilted his head.
"Mm. In any case, it benefits you." Hiruzen's smile turned cryptic. "It's settled. You'll be one of the chief proctors. Shikaku Nara will brief you."
"Understood, Hokage-sama."
It wasn't a bad assignment. With a little luck, the exams might yield unexpected opportunities.
He tucked away the freshly granted Explosive Tags technique and, on the way out, angled toward the Hatake estate.
Once lively, the compound lay hushed and hollow.
After White Fang's "failed mission" and suicide, his only son, Kakashi, had shut himself indoors, speaking to no one—as if the boy had sealed himself in a box.
Knowing a polite knock would go nowhere, Sogetsu chose the direct route. He vaulted the side wall and landed in the courtyard.
A slight figure stood under the eaves: silver hair dull in the light, half a handsome face hidden behind a black mask. The boy who should have blazed with life now wore a threadbare weariness beyond his years.
"Uchiha Sogetsu. Why are you here?"
Kakashi's voice was hoarse with grit. Hard to believe he was only six or seven.
"Someone asked me to check on you," Sogetsu said plainly. "Judging by your state, you haven't eaten properly in a while."
"Not your concern." Frost edged every syllable. "You're not welcome. Leave."
"Still grieving your father?" Sogetsu met the boy's gaze and quietly read the soul behind it.
Sorrow wrapped him like a shroud. The pain of loss left him drowning, unable—or unwilling—to surface. Deeper down, a hair-thin filament of anger glowed.
Anger at the true culprit. Anger at villagers whose whispers sharpened into knives.
Not enough. If Sogetsu wanted to break him out—or bend him—he'd need that ember to flare. He had to make Kakashi angrier—to drive him to the edge and tip him toward change.
"I'll say it once more. Leave."
The boy's temper finally sparked.
"Is that anger? Or just bluster?" Sogetsu didn't so much as shift his stance. "Forgive me for being blunt, but this—this is what cowardice looks like."
"What… did you say?"
Cowardice slid into Kakashi's heart like a needle. Heat flooded his eyes; a little beast bared its teeth.
"Good. That glare—there's a shadow of the White Fang in it." Sogetsu pushed up his glasses. The Sharingan's tomoe glinted like wet blood. "But it doesn't change your nature. You're a coward, Kakashi."
"You—!"
Steel hissed free. Kakashi's short blade cleared its sheath, killing intent raw and jagged. "Apologize. Or I'll make you."
"If you charge and cut me down, perhaps I'll apologize." Sogetsu's lip curled, amused and cold. "But you won't. You don't dare. You only make me more disappointed. I even pity the White Fang—having a son this weak."
"I'll kill you!"
Kakashi vanished in a swirl of leaves, blade angling at a safe line that would maim, not kill. Clean technique; good intent. Enough to earn a hospital stay for a mouthy intruder.
That's when everything went wrong.
Just before steel bit, Sogetsu's hand snapped forward and clamped Kakashi's right wrist.
Five fingers closed like a vise. A small twist—
crack.
"Ah!"
Pain detonated up Kakashi's arm; cold sweat broke across his brow.
"Credit where it's due—you telegraphed that strike so hard it disgraced the White Fang's kenjutsu." Sogetsu shook his head, mock-sorrowful, the red of his Sharingan swimming in Kakashi's vision. "Another lesson: don't spit tough words so lightly. All you do is advertise your weakness."
"Damn you, Uchi—"
Kakashi didn't finish. Sogetsu rolled his grip and flung him like trash.
Timber shattered; Kakashi crashed through a pillar and skidded into a room in a tangle of limbs and splinters.
He tried to rise. The broken wrist said no. The shock to his organs said no. He could only glare up, hatred doing the standing for him.
"Here's something to remember, Kakashi." Sogetsu smiled in the doorway, tomoe turning. "For shinobi… the moment 'I'll kill him' crosses your mind—"
He vanished.
Kakashi barely registered the blur before a heel slammed into his gut.
"—our bodies should already be moving."
Whump.
Bile surged up his throat; he coughed yellow and air together, skidding through a paper door and sailing a dozen meters before a concrete wall stopped him with a hollow thud.
His insides felt rearranged, a nest of knives twisting in his belly. Blood flooded his mouth.
Kakashi stared, stunned. What… is he even here for?
Did Obito find someone to finish me off while I'm down?
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