Uchiha Shisui held a thick stack of reports in his hands.
These were the comprehensive statistics from every squad over the half month since the border force had been formed. Of course, Tsunade-sama hadn't only ordered him to collect numbers—she also wanted him to understand the squads' changes and real conditions in depth.
At first, he didn't understand what that meant… until he saw it with his own eyes: an Uchiha clan member handing his grilled fish to a teammate…
Shisui had never imagined that the problem that had troubled him for so long would find a turning point in such a way. The Uchiha and the village had begun to reconnect again.
Tsunade-sama's favor… really couldn't be repaid.
He took a deep breath, steadied himself, and raised his hand to knock lightly on the door.
"Come in."
Tsunade's voice came from inside. Shisui pushed the door open and began his report. "Tsunade-sama, here is the recent comprehensive evaluation report for each squad."
"Overall, coordination within squads and between squads has been steadily improving. The third platoon has shown the most obvious progress—its performance in yesterday's joint exercise was twice as good as when it was first formed."
Tsunade nodded, a satisfied smile appearing on her lips.
Shisui continued. "The fourth platoon is also doing well. The improvement isn't as dramatic, but the teamwork among members has clearly increased. From my observations, the atmosphere in their private interactions is far more harmonious than at the beginning. Even the Aburame ninja—who usually keep silent—have started speaking proactively."
"Mm, good." Tsunade set the report down on the desk and looked up at Shisui. "Then… is there anyone performing poorly?"
Shisui nodded. "Yes. The second platoon, led by Hatake Kakashi."
…
At the second platoon's camp, the nine members were scattered around, sitting in small groups here and there.
It was as if an invisible barrier separated them. The strange atmosphere was like a four-person dorm room where somehow five separate group chats were hiding inside.
As for Kakashi—the captain—he sat alone on a dead log at the edge of the camp, holding a black-covered book. Even as he read, the corner of his eye remained alert to the surroundings.
He could tell what Tsunade was truly trying to do by forming this force, but he didn't care. If anything, he hoped she would transfer him back to Anbu sooner rather than later.
Maybe someone finally couldn't stand it anymore. A young genin broke the silence. "We got dead last again in this exercise. Let's think of a way. If we keep being like this, we're really falling behind."
"Heh." A chūnin with a scar on his face sneered. "No way around it. Our captain is the legendary 'Cold-Blooded Kakashi.'"
"Cold-blooded… Kakashi?" another person asked.
Another ninja—also transferred in from Anbu—answered his confusion. "Captain Kakashi is the kind of shinobi who would even kill his comrades to complete a mission."
The genin's throat bobbed. "Seriously?"
"Of course it's true. Any shinobi who lived through the Third Great Ninja War knows—Kakashi personally killed his own teammate."
"Why?"
"Who knows?"
"I heard it too. Supposedly he used his signature technique—Raikiri."
"Cold-Blooded Kakashi… guess the nickname fits."
One after another, they talked over each other. The earlier silence vanished, replaced by vivid storytelling—as if they'd seen it with their own eyes.
And Kakashi, the person being talked about—and the captain—remained unmoved.
He held the same posture, didn't explain, didn't even lift his eyes to look at them. He simply kept reading, turning pages slowly, one by one.
Seeing him like that, the others grew even bolder.
"Enough!!!"
A sudden roar exploded out. Everyone froze. The one who shouted was the other lone wolf in the unit—Uchiha Naka.
"You useless trash!"
Naka's face was flushed red, veins bulging on his forehead. His crimson Sharingan radiated naked killing intent.
"All you do is run your mouths behind people's backs! What else can you even do?!"
The team members were startled by his sudden outburst. For a moment they stammered, unable to speak.
"We can't complete exercise missions—whose fault is that? Is it Kakashi's fault alone?"
"In survival training, you all do your own thing—your 'coordination' is like scattered sand. Whose fault is that? Still Kakashi's?!"
"In squad sparring, you lose every match, total score at the bottom, can't beat anyone. Whose fault is that?!"
The more he spoke, the more heated he became, his voice rising until he was nearly screaming. "All you trash know is gossip and shifting blame!"
"If you've got the skill, show it in missions! If you've got the skill, win a match! If you've got the skill—come fight me!"
Uchiha Naka drew his blade and slashed it hard into a nearby tree trunk, then pointed at his own eye. "Before I came here, this Sharingan was only two tomoe. Now it's three. Know why?!"
"Because you useless idiots pissed me off into it!!!"
"In that match, I wanted nothing more than to go one-versus-five—throw all you deadweight onto the other side, and maybe with my Sharingan I could actually win one!"
His words sprayed out like machine-gun fire, not giving anyone space to interrupt. The others were scolded until their faces burned.
The scarred chūnin who'd started the gossip reacted first. "Y-you… what right do you have to curse us? What we said is fact! Hatake Kakashi is that kind of person—everyone knows it!"
"Fact?" Naka sneered. "You saw it with your own eyes? You were there?"
"I… I wasn't, but—"
"But my ass!" Naka cut him off. "You didn't see anything. You don't know anything. Who the hell are you to talk?!"
The chūnin was choked into silence. Another teammate tried to help. "No matter what you say, him killing his comrade is still a fact."
"Shut up!" Naka barked. "No matter what excuses you dig up, the fact is the second platoon is dead last in the entire force. And this is because you're useless and you have no teamwork!"
They knew Naka was right.
But they still couldn't swallow it.
Why should they follow the command of someone "who would kill his comrades"?
Why should they trust their backs to someone like that?
They couldn't.
From the moment Naka stood up, Kakashi had already put down his book and watched everything.
To be honest, he was surprised.
He hadn't expected anyone to step forward on his behalf—let alone an Uchiha.
After all, his left eye was a Sharingan. Even if it was a relic left to him by Obito… to the Uchiha clan, a non-Uchiha possessing a Sharingan was an unacceptable insult.
By all logic, the Uchiha should have hated him more than anyone.
~~~
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