Beneath the surface of Konoha, in the hidden lair of Root.
Inside the dimly lit underground chamber, Shimura Danzo—grizzled and stern—rested on a wooden chair, gripping his staff while listening intently to the masked shinobi kneeling before him.
"You're saying that Hatake Kakashi subdued Qiu Daozhi using only taijutsu?"
Danzo's tone was flat, yet the cold edge behind it betrayed a faint sense of surprise.
"Yes, Lord Danzo," the Root ninja confirmed, bowing his head low.
Danzo's lone visible eye narrowed. "I see. Leave us."
The Root shinobi disappeared with practiced silence.
Danzo remained still, his left eye—underneath layers of gauze and secrets—closed tightly, deep in thought. The chamber, already cloaked in gloom, seemed to grow darker.
"Kakashi Hatake… It seems the son of the White Fang hasn't wasted his bloodline after all. But he's still under the Hokage's wing—Sarutobi won't allow me to move against him freely."
With a faint grunt, Danzo tapped his cane against the floor, the sound echoing like a whisper of suppressed ambition.
Kakashi, unaware of the shadowy gaze upon him, had just returned to Konoha. Had he known Danzo's interest, he might have lost sleep for days.
The mission had been classified as a simple border sweep. No complications had arisen. Kakashi's squad returned without incident.
In the Hokage's office, Hiruzen Sarutobi's brow furrowed as he skimmed the mission report. His lips tightened slightly before he waved the team off.
Kakashi didn't question it. He understood the limits of his current position. The less he meddled in politics, the freer he was to sharpen his edge. Better to spend that time improving than chasing schemes.
And so began a new rhythm of training and solitude.
With each passing day, Kakashi pushed himself harder. His strength visibly increased. Determined to break through his limits, he approached Might Guy, requesting the use of weighted training gear.
What Kakashi received, however, nearly broke him.
"Is this even humanly possible…?" he muttered, sagging under the weight.
Still, he bore it with grim resolve. While on missions, he discarded the weight; it was too dangerous to risk impaired mobility during high-stakes operations. But off-duty, the burden was constant.
Training under pressure became his daily routine, and Anbu life—initially alien and brutal—became second nature. Missions were relentless and often bloody, but over time, Kakashi adapted.
Whether it was his inherited instincts or his own will hardening, he no longer flinched at the sight of blood.
Three years passed.
Kakashi turned seventeen.
During that time, his power had grown exponentially. His mastery of the Eight Gates Technique advanced to the Fifth Gate: Gate of Limit, far sooner than expected. The effort, sweat, and pain required to reach it had nearly broken him—but he persevered.
He also continued researching the Flying Thunder God Technique, left behind in part through Minato's legacy and scrolls available only to elite Jōnin and Anbu.
Though he hadn't yet perfected it, the theoretical framework was in place. What held him back wasn't chakra control or formulae—but spatial sensitivity.
Flying Thunder God required an intrinsic sense of dimensional flow, something only a rare few possessed.
Kakashi, unfortunately, wasn't naturally attuned to space.
However, ever since gaining Kamui—the Mangekyō Sharingan's spatial-time ninjutsu—he had a trump card. But he had never used it. The power was dangerous, draining, and hard to control.
So far, no mission had pushed him that far.
In Anbu, Kakashi's strength had earned him a reputation. He was no longer just the Copy Ninja—he was a rising leader.
He was promoted to Anbu Squad Captain, personally appointed by the Third Hokage. His unit consisted of three team leaders under his command, each leading a squad of four—fifteen elite shinobi total.
Though his title was moderate compared to the Anbu Commander or Deputy Commander, it signified trust—especially coming from Sarutobi.
Anbu's structure, while rarely spoken of, followed a hierarchy:
Operatives, then Team Leaders, then Squad Captains, followed by the Deputy Commander, and finally the Anbu Commander, who answered directly to the Hokage.
One morning, returning from a successful assassination mission, Kakashi and his squad arrived at the Hokage's office.
"Hokage-sama. Mission complete. Here's the report."
Kakashi presented the sealed scroll, then stepped back silently.
The Third Hokage nodded and reviewed the document. After a few minutes, he looked up, a faint smile softening his face.
"Well done, Kakashi."
"Thank you, Lord Hokage," Kakashi responded, calm and composed.
Hiruzen studied him quietly. In these three years, the boy had changed. The quiet gloom that once clung to Kakashi had faded. He wasn't exactly cheerful—but he was sharper, more confident, and visibly stronger.
According to mission reports, Kakashi's kenjutsu had become exceptional. His Lightning Release was refined and versatile. And his taijutsu? Ruthless and efficient.
Most enemies didn't last longer than a minute.
His prowess had made him a pillar of Anbu.
As Sarutobi gazed at the silver-haired young man, he was struck by déjà vu. The same hair. The same sword. The same calm storm behind the eyes.
A mirror image of Sakumo.
He blinked, shaking the thought.
"You may all leave," he said suddenly. "Except for Kakashi."
The team departed swiftly. Kakashi waited.
"Orders, Lord Hokage?" he asked.
Hiruzen's tone turned serious. "I apologize for not giving you rest. We've uncovered one of Orochimaru's secret bases. Surveillance is inconclusive—but the location is real. I need someone precise, capable, and discreet."
Kakashi's eye narrowed. "I'll go alone?"
"Yes. A larger group could alert him. You're the most suitable."
"I understand."
Hiruzen handed over the scroll. "Leave immediately. And be cautious. We still don't know if Orochimaru's left any traps behind."
"Yes, Hokage-sama."
With that, Kakashi vanished in a swirl of leaves—moving silently into the shadows, as only the Anbu can.
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