At Yakiniku Q, one of Konoha's popular barbecue spots, the charcoal fire burned brightly. Thin slices of meat sizzled on the grill, releasing a mouthwatering aroma.
Yet the atmosphere inside the restaurant felt strangely tense.
Rin Nohara poked at the rice in her bowl uneasily, her gaze drifting now and then toward Kakashi beside her.
Since they'd sat down, Kakashi hadn't touched his food once.
He sat perfectly still, staring at a table diagonally across from them.
That table was loud and rowdy. At its head sat a boy about their age, his features faintly resembling those of the Third Hokage.
"Did you hear? That Sakuya Chigen is taking the promotion exam together with Kakashi!"
"Hah? That super dead last? What was the Hokage thinking?"
"Who knows..."
Obito had gone to the restroom, leaving Rin trapped between Kakashi's silence and the piercing chatter from that table. She felt like she was sitting on needles.
The boy at the head of the table—Hiruzen clan member Sarutobi Shin—took a sip of alcohol, a look of disdain curling his lips.
"I've never liked that guy. I heard he's only survived this long by selling out his teammates. Every time he comes back from a mission, he's the only survivor. You think that's normal?"
"What? Seriously?"
"Of course it is! My uncle fields in mission assignment. He said Chigen takes missions with terrifyingly high mortality rates—but he always comes back unharmed. If he wasn't stepping over his teammates' body or using them as bait, is it actually possible to survive those missions with genin strength?"
"Maybe he's a spy sent by another village—deliberately weakening our forces?"
Slander and malice spread like greasy smoke through the small restaurant.
Rin's face paled. She wanted to refute them, but didn't know how.
She didn't truly know Sakuya Chigen—but instinctively, she refused to believe such vicious speculation.
At that moment, the silent Kakashi finally moved.
He lowered his arms from where they were crossed over his chest.
"Are you finished?"
The cold voice wasn't loud—but it struck their noisy table like a kunai chilled in ice.
Sarutobi Shin and the others looked over.
Seeing Kakashi, their expressions stiffened.
"Kakashi? You… you heard that?"
Shin felt a twinge of guilt, but with numbers on his side, he forced himself to stand tall.
"What, you're going to speak up for that suspicious man too?"
Kakashi stood. He wasn't tall, but the pressure he radiated was suffocating.
"Tell me," he said evenly, "what is a shinobi's duty?"
Shin froze, then answered instinctively, "To complete the mission."
"And if completing the mission requires sacrifice?"
Kakashi's voice didn't waver—it sounded like a simple statement of fact.
"T-That's…"
Shin was left speechless.
Kakashi's gaze swept across the table. He looked at them as if they were nothing more than unmoving garbage.
"Without even that level of resolve, you think you're qualified to judge senpai?"
"What did you say?!"
Shin slammed the table and sprang to his feet, furious and humiliated.
"Someone like Sakuya Chigen—who might have survived by sacrificing his comrades—deserves to be called a senpai?!"
"Oh?"
Kakashi took a step forward, meeting his eyes directly.
"If sacrificing a group of useless people like you could ensure the success of an S-Rank mission and save the entire village—then that's a very profitable trade."
"You—!"
Shin's face turned a deep purple as chakra surged out of control.
"Trash should have the self-awareness of trash," Kakashi continued calmly, his words cutting deeper than any insult.
"Badmouthing people stronger than you only proves your own incompetence. If you have time to gossip, spend it at the training grounds. Otherwise, when you reach the battlefield, you won't even know how you died."
The entire restaurant fell silent.
Shin's companions desperately held him back, bowing repeatedly toward Kakashi.
"We're sorry, Kakashi-sama! We drank too much and spoke nonsense!"
"Yes, please don't take it to heart!"
Before Hatake Kakashi, a true prodigy, their petty pride and ego were utterly crushed.
Kakashi didn't spare them another glance. He turned and walked toward the exit.
"Kakashi!"
Rin hurried after him and grabbed his arm.
Kakashi paused—but didn't turn around.
He gently pulled his arm free.
"I'm full."
With that, he disappeared into the night without looking back.
Rin stood there with her hand still half-raised, stunned.
"Seriously… did they fight again?"
Obito returned just then, scratching his head as he took in the scene.
"Where'd Kakashi go?"
"He left," Rin said softly, lowering her hand.
She briefly explained what had happened.
Obito slammed the table in anger.
"Those bastards! How dare they talk about Chigen-senpai like that! And Kakashi too—he went way too far!"
"Obito," Rin asked quietly,
"Do you think… Kakashi was right? Sacrificing comrades for the mission…"
"Of course not!"
Obito shouted without hesitation.
"Missions matter—but comrades are family! I would never, ever abandon a teammate! Anyone who hides behind rules and gives up on comrades so easily—that's the real garbage!"
His voice rang with conviction, his eyes blazing with certainty.
Rin looked at him and suddenly smiled.
"Then… what about Chigen-senpai?"
"Do you think he's really that kind of person?"
Obito paused, then scratched his head hard.
"I don't know… but I feel like Chigen-senpai is different from Kakashi. He looks lazy and careless, but it feels like… he has his own ninja way. A kind of ninja way he'll stick to—even if no one understands it."
Rin froze.
She remembered Kakashi's resolute yet lonely back as he left.
Then she remembered Chigen in the Hokage's office—clearly unwilling, yet ultimately accepting the order.
In that moment, their silhouettes strangely overlapped.
Equally strong—and equally… alone.
---
Meanwhile, at Chigen's home.
Chigen sat cross-legged on his bed, studying the new ability in his mind.
Restore.
Synchronizing another person's pain and memories—just thinking about the side effect made his scalp tingle.
But the chance to copy abilities was impossible to resist.
This skill was practically made for war.
On the battlefield, there was never a shortage of wounded. As long as he could withstand the mental shock, he could theoretically become a mobile ability-copying machine.
"Medical-nin…"
The term surfaced in his mind.
Yes. A perfect disguise.
A powerful medical-nin was treasured in any squad—highly respected, usually protected at the rear.
This was the ultimate expression of survival strategy.
Stay safe in the back lines, while legitimately interacting with top-tier shinobi and copying their abilities.
Sharingan.
Sage Body… kek.
The more he thought about it, the more viable it seemed. The irritation he'd felt about the Chūnin Exam slowly faded, replaced by the outlines of a grand lazy plan.
He even started looking forward to the exam.
Chigen stretched, his joints cracking loudly.
After a long, exhausting day, both body and mind were spent.
Better to get some sleep, recover his strength, and start preparing tomorrow.
He blew out the lamp. Darkness swallowed the room.
Just as his consciousness began to sink—
—swish.
A faint sound of fabric cutting through air skimmed across the rooftop.
Chigen's eyes snapped open in the dark.
The weariness that usually lingered in them was gone—replaced by icy clarity.
…Hmm?
Who's there?