As the sun dipped below the horizon, Kakashi—Shredder, in Kakashi's body—stood at the edge of the rooftop, watching the fading light reflect off the buildings of the Hidden Leaf Village. His new students, Team 7, had left for the day after their brief meeting. The wind was cool against his skin, the familiar scent of the village filling his lungs.
He'd told them what they needed to know. The truth about becoming a ninja. How a third of all Genin fail the first test. How they wouldn't be eating breakfast tomorrow, and how the test would push them harder than they'd ever been pushed before.
Kakashi's mind wandered as he gazed out at the vast expanse of the village below. The life of a ninja wasn't easy. He had lived through that truth every day, and he had taught it to countless students. He could already hear the voices of his old team in his mind—their faces flashing before him. He'd been a teacher to many, but for some reason, this felt different.
Am I really doing the right thing? Shredder thought, his hand resting against the cool stone of the roof. Should I act like Kakashi, just the way he would have? Should I stick to the plan he would have followed?
His thoughts turned inward as he considered what it meant to be Kakashi Hatake. The original sensei had been a figure of immense strength, stoic, often hiding his true emotions behind a mask, both figuratively and literally. Kakashi was a man who had seen endless battle, loss, and sacrifice. And yet, despite all the hardships, he managed to take on the role of a teacher, always keeping a level head and imparting wisdom to his students in the way that only he could.
But Shredder—now Kakashi—felt... different. He wasn't Kakashi. Not really. Even if he wore the same face, carried the same name, and had inherited the same powerful skills, he was still someone else.
Should I just fall into the same pattern as the original? Act like Kakashi, do everything as he would? He leaned against the stone, his eyes narrowing slightly as he considered the question. If I do, what's the point of me crossing over?
In truth, he didn't know if he wanted to be just Kakashi. The real Kakashi, the one who had been through so much, the one who had lived through war and loss, had built a career on guiding students down the difficult path of being a ninja. But Shredder had no desire to be merely a copy of someone else's life. He had his own experiences, his own perspective—he wasn't just a placeholder.
His mind wandered back to the test tomorrow. He couldn't help but think of the pressure it would put on the kids—his team. Naruto, Sasuke, Sakura... He had already seen their personalities, their dreams, their drives. But the test was going to be difficult. Not just physically, but mentally and emotionally. He remembered what it had been like for him, long ago.
Naruto, the dreamer, always eager to prove himself, to become Hokage. Sasuke, filled with a cold, calculating resolve, bent on a path of vengeance. And Sakura, who still had so much to learn, but showed a deep desire to protect and help her friends. Each of them had their own strengths, their own weaknesses. But what would they do when faced with the reality of being a ninja?
Shredder sighed, rubbing his forehead. He could already see Naruto charging ahead, full of energy and optimism. He could see Sasuke standing in his usual quiet resolve, and Sakura, though quiet, filled with an earnest determination. The test tomorrow would show them more about themselves than any simple lesson or speech could.
He couldn't simply follow the script of Kakashi's life, could he? If he did, he would just be living someone else's fate. What was the point of being brought into this world if he was only going to follow in the footsteps of the man who originally occupied this body?
"I guess I'll have to find my own path," he muttered softly to himself, glancing out over the village one last time.
Kakashi—Shredder—stood there for a while longer, his gaze fixed on the stars that began to appear in the sky. He had a lot of questions, and no easy answers. But one thing was clear: tomorrow would be a pivotal moment for all of them, himself included.
Whatever path he chose, whatever he decided to be for Team 7, it would shape their futures. And maybe, just maybe, he could bring something new to the table—something beyond just copying the past.
Tomorrow would be the first test. But it would be his test too.