The Konoha cemetery always smelled of damp soil and old iron.
Not because of rain—the sky was clear—but because blood was something the ground had learned to remember. Every gravestone carried weight, every name an echo. For Kakashi Hatake, the place was as familiar as his own empty apartment.
He walked between the rows of stone with his hands in his pockets, the orange book safely tucked away, unread. He never read it there; it wouldn't feel right.
"You're late," said a young, mocking voice, dry as dust. "What happened, war hero? Got lost following the trail of your own thoughts?"
Kakashi stopped.
He raised his single visible eye.
In front of a double gravestone, someone was sitting cross-legged on bare earth. Not on the stone. On the earth. Barefoot. Back straight. Head held high.
A ninja forehead protector completely covered his eyes.
Toph.
"Didn't know you were greeting visitors now," Kakashi replied lazily. "Get promoted to cemetery guard?"
Toph smirked—a crooked, insolent smile that didn't need sight to strike straight at pride.
"Nah. I just came early. Like always."
Kakashi took another step.
Toph turned his head unerringly toward him.
"You're two steps late," he added. "And you're dragging your left foot. Again."
"I should start floating," Kakashi muttered.
"Try it. The earth will feel you anyway."
Kakashi approached the gravestone. Hatake Sakumo. He didn't need to read it.
Beside it, another. Older.
Two names.
Toph's parents.
Both chūnin. Both fallen during the Second Great Ninja War.
Toph placed a hand on the ground. His fingers sank slightly into the damp soil.
"You showed up a week earlier than usual," Kakashi said, breaking the silence.
"You too," Toph replied. "That's rare. You hate changing routines."
Kakashi sighed.
"I'm forming a team."
Toph tilted his head.
"Yeah."
"Genin."
"Yeah."
"Three of them."
"Yeah… so why do you sound like you've been sentenced?"
Kakashi sat down, leaning his back against a nearby stone.
"Because I have."
Toph let out a short laugh.
"Poor kids."
"That's what I thought."
The wind stirred the leaves. The earth answered with a soft murmur that only one of them perceived.
"Who are they?" Toph asked.
"An Uchiha."
Toph clicked his tongue.
"Trouble."
"A girl with good chakra control."
"Boring."
"And the Fourth Hokage's son."
Toph's smile vanished.
"…That's just cruel."
Kakashi didn't respond.
Toph rose with a light jump. When he landed, the ground trembled faintly.
"So," he said, "you're going to try to save them."
"I'm going to try."
"You'll fail at least once."
"Probably."
Toph walked toward him, barefoot on the cold soil, stopping half a meter away.
"And you?" Kakashi asked. "What are you doing here today?"
Toph shrugged.
"Listening."
"To whom?"
"Everyone."
The silence grew heavier.
"The earth is restless," Toph continued. "Too much movement. Too many new footsteps. Young people… and broken ones."
"That never changes," Kakashi said.
"No," Toph agreed. "But this time it feels different."
He turned toward his parents' graves.
"Maybe it's because we're getting old."
Kakashi let out a muffled laugh.
"We're the same age."
"Exactly. Old."
Toph adjusted the protector covering his eyes.
"Hey, Kakashi."
"Mm?"
"Don't let them break like we did."
Kakashi closed his eye.
"I'll do what I can."
Toph smiled.
"That's the only thing a ninja can do."
He turned away.
"See you, sensei."
"Don't call me that."
"Then show up on time next time."
Toph walked off, each step firm, certain. The earth recognized him.
Kakashi stayed seated a while longer.
Then he opened the orange book.
He didn't read.
He just listened.
For once, the earth agreed.