The Asuma Riot Chapters [2]

These days, Asuma woke up with a stiff neck and a pounding headache. Having a single shadow clone read information-dense material for two, two-hour sessions a day wasn't good for him but it was necessary. He’d neglected his calligraphy – a favourite hobby of the old man – and it showed.

Before getting on to even the Sealing basics, he had to work on his calligraphy from the ground up.

Slowly, he began to stretch his neck out, ignoring the strain as he rotated his head. Calligraphy was one of the requirements to learn Sealing Jutsu, an already esoteric art. On top of Lady Kushina’s notes on the Eight Sign Seal (with a few addenda from Lord Fourth), his father had supplied him with Lord Jiraiya’s writings on Sealing Jutsu in general – that old pervert was the only expert left in the Leaf and he wasn’t even around.

Anyone else halfway decent at it only used the art for monetary gain – not that there was anything wrong with that; shinobi needed explosive tags, paralysis seals and the works, but he only realised what a loss the Hidden Whirlpool was when he began to study Sealing Jutsu.

It happened before his time, but he’d heard a thing or two growing up. That particular massacre was timed perfectly. The Leaf was tied up fighting against the Sand and Stone as well as Hanzo of the Salamander, who was a pretty big problem back then. When the Cloud and Mist banded together to stamp out the Uzumaki, there was little anyone could do to stop them.

Most knowledge in the art worth anything came from the Uzumaki, which Lord First distributed to the Hidden Villages as another peace offering; the old man explained it as a way to dissuade them from war by levelling the playing field. Of course, Lord First didn’t give them everything because the Uzumaki didn’t give him everything. The other villages began to envy the Hidden Whirlpool, a village with a majority Uzumaki population (though there were branch families of important Hidden Leaf clans too as well as clanless shinobi and civilians); it quickly turned to fear after the Second Shinobi World War.

Once the village was destroyed, their writings either sank to the bottom of the ocean or were plundered from its ruins. There was no real innovation in Sealing after that – not any on par with the Uzumaki, anyway. The Hidden Villages had attempted to replicate their genius – namely Jinchuriki Seals – but none came close to the Eight Sign Seal used on Naruto Uzumaki.

The only ones to do something of note was the Cloud, but their Iron Armour Seal was inferior to a single Four Symbol Seal, let alone Naruto’s Eight Sign Seal.

It was hard to believe that it was just a fragment of the knowledge the Uzumaki had possessed. Everything else was either lost to the elements or had too steep of a cost to be worth it. There was a reason the Uzumaki were so feared, their massive chakra reserves and inhuman vitality were perfect for Sealing.

He took a deep drag from his cigarette, watching the countless students force themselves through the front gate.

“Are you ready, Sarutobi?”

“Oh, it’s you, Umino.” Asuma stopped himself from taking another drag and stamped out the cigarette. “I’d say I’m ready. Why?”

“Your talk is right after homeroom,” He looked down at his watch, “which starts in ten minutes. Do you want to sit in? The kids know that there’ll be a jonin coming in to talk to them today, but none of them know it’s you.”

“Let’s make it a surprise,” Umino nodded and he watched him return inside before going back to the balcony. “That way, I get to smoke another cigarette.”

In all truth, his reason for giving a talk to the Academy’s graduating class was purely selfish – and not all that uncommon among Jonin.

While the talks were genuine and for every student’s benefit, most Jonin gave them to scope out their potential students from a class of a few dozen children. Even after months of study on Sealing, Naruto Uzumaki was only a potential candidate. This talk was an opportunity to see what kind of kid he was and look for two additional teammates.

It would also show the old man that he was being proactive about things besides studying Sealing, which would be another point in his favour.

Asuma wasn’t entirely sure if he even wanted Naruto Uzumaki on his team. All he knew of the boy was that one conversation he overheard and the way the village treated him so this talk would seal the deal for him.

He had just enough time to smoke one last cigarette – making sure to use chakra to minimise all the shit besides the nicotine from screwing him up too badly – before Umino dragged him inside.

He wrinkled his nose.

“Did you have to smoke another one?”

“Well, I had the time for it so I thought: “Why not?”

The chunin sighed and opened the sliding door. Asuma waited for a few moments before following. The classroom looked the same as his own did fifteen years ago: tall windows and tiered seating. But there were a helluva lot more students in his class. His eyes immediately sought out the blond boy housing the demon responsible, his memory of that night forced to the front of his mind… the night Kurenai lost her father and him, his mother.

Asuma’s hand sank into his pocket and he clasped his lighter tight in his hand. It wasn’t the kid’s fault, and he had moved on. Muttering a short prayer, he pulled the hand out of his pocket.

“Everyone, this is Asuma Sarutobi, the son of the Lord Third. Up until last year, he was a member of the Twelve Guardian Shinobi, an elite ninja corp comprised of shinobi from across the Land of Fire. Does anyone want to guess what their job is?”

Umino looked out hopefully at his class; they mumbled nervously to each other but nobody seemed willing to step up. A hand slowly rose, though the chunin caught it before it was even half-extended.

“Naruto?”

“Their job is to protect the Fire Daimyo.”

“Correct. Sarutobi here was a guardian shinobi for,” He leaned towards him and whispered: “How long were you one again?”

“Five years,” Asuma chuckled.

“Right. Five years. That’s about half as long as you’ve all been alive and on that note, I’m going to hand this over to him. There’ll be time for questions after the talk so make sure to write down anything that comes to mind.”

Umino backed away from the podium and sat down at the end of the first row, his notebook and pen already prepared for him.

“Mornin’, kids. The first thing I’m going to do is contradict your teacher: this won’t be a traditional talk. I’m not going to rattle off my life story or bore you with textbook stuff. Think of this like… like a get-together or something. There’ll be a topic and sure I’ll ramble a bit, but you guys can ask me anything and everything while I do – don’t be shy.

“I’m going to start with a question. What does it mean to be a shinobi?”

There was a pause, but a bookish-looking girl raised her hand.

“And what’s your name, Miss…”

“Haruno. Sakura Haruno.”

She chewed nervously at her bottom lip and scanned through her notebook. When she looked up, her gaze was focused and she seemed less nervous.

“A shinobi is a combatant under the employ of their village and in service to their country.”

“Correct. It’s a textbook definition of a shinobi,” She started to flush, “but not an incorrect one. Anyone else? You’re all studying to be shinobi so there’s no real wrong answer here.”

Another hand snaked up – Asuma caught it. “You!”

“Ino Yamanaka. Shinobi can be spies and saboteurs, not just combatants.”

“They sure as hell can,” Asuma grinned. “You know the Transformation Jutsu, right?”

“Yes.”

“There you go then. There’ll be many missions where the objective will be to gather information and not engage in any actual combat. It’s why you guys learn things beyond just fighting and jutsu here. You’ve got to not only be able to employ these sorts of tactics but recognise when they’re being used against you. I’d also like to say that one definition doesn’t mean the other ones are wrong.

A shinobi can be many different things at the same time – that’s the essence of what it means to be one. Right, next definition. You with the dark hair.”

However, that wasn’t the only dark thing about the kid. His eyes smouldered in expectation when Asuma pointed at him – and knowing his story, his definition was going to be either worrying or astounding.

There weren’t in-betweens for people like him.

“Sasuke Uchiha. To me, a shinobi… is a mercenary for hire.”

Asuma blinked, hand still hovering in front of him. Judging from the conversation his father and Umino had all those months ago, the definition was… not what he expected. It felt curbed, somehow.

“You know what, Sasuke, I’m going to be annoying. I think you’re holding out on me. I could be the only Jonin you’ll ever speak to, so I’ll ask you once again: what is a shinobi to you?”

Asuma could see him adjust in his seat from the bottom of the classroom. He cleared his throat. “...A shinobi is a cold-blooded killer.”

The room temperature plunged. The majority of the bottom four rows twisted their necks to look at Sasuke and a few whispered in what he could make out as either admiration or discomfort.

“There it is.” He snapped his fingers. “And you're right. We're mercenaries for hire, cold-blooded killers. We’re paid to do things for people who can afford our services, some of which could be as simple as household chores to as grisly as killing someone.”

The class snapped back at him so quickly that he nearly laughed.

“What, you thought I was gonna refute that? You guys are learning to kill – remember when they had you hunting and butchering animals on your camping trips in the fourth year? What do you think that was for?”

There were a few shudders in the room and suddenly, the class didn’t look so keen anymore. It might’ve been harsh of him, but the ones who were so repulsed by his words wouldn’t make it far as shinobi and the fact that they had made it this far alone was a miracle.

Asuma shook his head and readied himself to pick the next person.

“THE HELL’S GOING ON WITH ALL THESE STUPID DEFINITIONS!”

He ignored Umino’s stern warning to the kid in favour of taking a closer look at him. He was an Inuzuka, for sure – had the telltale feral grin and wild, brown hair.

“IT’S SIMPLE: A SHINOBI IS SOMEONE WHO CAN CALL THEMSELVES THE STRONGEST!”

“You’re a riot, you are. What’s your name, kid?”

He smirked and thumped his chest.

“It’s Kiba Inuzuka. You’d better remember it.”

He was going to say more until Umino dragged him by the ear down the stairs and out of the classroom. Asuma waited until they’d returned, the Inuzuka kid cursing up a storm under his breath as he returned to his seat.

A sarcastic drawl cut the amused silence.

“I guess a shinobi is someone who doesn’t know how to be quiet.”

The Inuzuka snarled and frowned at a boy with familiar tied-back hair. He shouted something but it was drowned out by a tide of snickers and jeers.

Asuma had to stop himself from laughing before he could say anything.

“In this case, you're also right. I can guess your last name, wiseass, but humour me.”

“Shikamaru Nara. And for the record, I’m going to sleep now.”

“Feel free,” he replied. “Next?”

“Me.”

He had a feeling this one was going to be interesting.

“Go right ahead but name first.”

“Naruto Uzumaki, and in my opinion, a shinobi is a tool.”

“...Interesting definition. Also one-hundred-percent true.” Asuma folded his arms. “Explain some more, though.”

“Shinobi are tools for things with more power than them. They’re told to go somewhere and do something and probably die there. They don’t have enough power so they become something for someone else to use. You’re a tool, we’re going to become tools, and that’s just a fact of life.”

“I’m sensing a “but” here.”

Naruto smiled.

“Well, if you become strong enough, you’re not a tool anymore.”

“If it was that easy, don’t you think the Rogue Shinobi life would be a lot more attractive?”

“You don’t have to be a Rogue Shinobi to be free, you just have to be strong enough.”

Asuma stopped and stood still for a second, mulling over his words. The silence around him felt more bemused than chilling and the confusion spread while he tried to understand where the kid was coming from.

“You know that my old man was the strongest person in the world at one point. Even he couldn’t free himself from being a tool if we go by your definition.”

“Nope.”

Asuma blinked before letting out a slow chuckle.

“...You’re an interesting one, that’s for sure. Haven’t you considered that becoming a shinobi in and of itself is a way to stop being a tool?”

The kid grinned at him.

“That’s exactly why I’m here.”

“Make sure you’re cautious about it. Like you said, shinobi can become tools for things more powerful than themselves – to power itself.”

Naruto looked like he wanted to say something but held his tongue.

“Right,” He looked at the rest of the class, “we’re running low on time here. We’ve got enough left for one last answer.”

The children looked at each other, whispering furiously into the ears of their deskmates. He watched in amusement until it was so loud they were practically arguing with each other.

Umino stood next to him and sighed.

“Kids, am I right?” Asuma joked.

“You have no idea.”

Suddenly the voices vanished and all of the kids were looking at one person in particular. He followed their gazes and so the reason why they were so quiet. A Hyuuga girl sat ramrod straight with her Byakugan activated.

“Are you all finished? I suppose I’ll answer, then.”

“Nicely done, Miss…”

“Hyuuga – though it’s obvious now. Hinata Hyuuga.”

Asuma laughed at her joke. Hyuuga never usually had it in them to crack one. It was nice to see one without a stick jammed up their ass. “Since you’ve taken centre stage, I might as well give you the floor.”

“My classmates are all correct in their definitions, you’ve said as much already. A shinobi can be all of those things, but at their core, they are someone who endures. They are thieves and spies, murderers and mercenaries, capable of anything and everything for the sake of those they love.”

With nothing to add after that, he started a round of applause that the children’s teacher backed up. His closing speech wasn’t anything impressive and he felt their attention drifting but generally, he’d done what he needed to.

The Hyuuga was spot on with her definition, even if it was too idealistic for his taste. Almost all of their definitions were. It was easy to rattle off qualities written in a textbook or taught to them by someone else. One day very soon, they would see the reality themselves and decide which brand of poison they wanted to take.

It was too late for them to back out now; the ten-year contract they would sign at the end of the Academy would see to that.

The last half an hour had turned his whimsical desire to train Naruto into an all-consuming thing. Just imagining how far the kid could go under his guidance made him impossibly giddy. That being said, Asuma seethed with frustration on his way back to the Sarutobi residence. He gave that talk to narrow down his list of potential students, not broaden it.

All the other brats showed a surprising amount of potential. He wouldn’t mind taking any of those kids who’d had the guts to answer his question – even the loudmouthed Inuzuka or smart-alec Nara. The Uchiha brat – as gloomy as he was – also showed potential, but there was no way Asuma would be allowed to train him; he was going to Kakashi for certain, the old man had said as much anyway.

He would fight for any of the girls who’d answered his question but Naruto was now a priority.

———————————

Kakashi strolled into the Hokage Building at precisely fifteen minutes past three with his hands in his pockets, whistling a loud, merry tune.

“You’re late,” said Lord Third’s secretary, not even looking up from her work.

“And a good afternoon to you as well,” he smiled and followed the corridor winding around the circular building the the conference room.

On his way, he debated pulling out Icha Icha Paradise but that probably would’ve been a little overkill. Being over half an hour late to the annual Jonin Teacher Meeting was already bad enough and there was only so far Lord Third’s mercy would go after last year.

But he did it anyway, flicking through the pages as he entered the room.

“...and that’s why I believe I am the best fit to teach Sabo, Iori, and Matsuda. Under my tutelage, they can be great.”

“I’m sorry, Iwashi, but Sabo Oshiro, Iori Aikawa, and Matsuda Daigo will go to Kurenai. Besides being one of the village’s Genjutsu experts, she is well-versed in a variety of weapons and nature releases. But I will give you the third team instead.”

Kakashi coughed once.

The gathered Jonin stopped to stare at him. A few people were present last year who weren’t here now – notably Gai, who promised to build a team that would beat Kakashi’s. It was a shame that his spandex-clad friend wasn’t around; he would’ve diffused the awkward silence easily.

He put his book away and gave the room a two-fingered salute.

“Yo. Jonin Hatake reporting for duty.”

The awkward silence reigned for a heavy ten seconds.

“...Nice of you to join us, Kakashi,” said Lord Third. “You were an hour late last year so I am glad to see you putting in an effort.”

“What can I say, sir, I’m just doing my best.”

That particular lie was met with a laugh from Lord Third and a few people in the room – though Kurenai glowered at him from beside a strangely familiar-looking man. It took a few moments of staring but he recognised Lord Third’s son – sporting a set of prayer beads around his left wrist and the Guardian Shinobi sash around his waist.

Those were certainly new additions – had he taken up faith since he last saw him?

“Take a seat wherever you wish and we will resume the meeting. Next, we will look at the fifth team Chunin Umino has constructed. I’m sure you all will be familiar with this one. We have Ino Yamanaka, Shikamaru Nara, and Choji Akimichi. Who would like to make their case for becoming the teacher of these three?”

Kakashi surveyed the room with his lone eye and it was clear to him who those three would go to. People liked to pretend village politics had nothing to do with the shinobi force, but that was a bald-faced lie. There was a reason why no one challenged Chozen Akimichi after his speech. He was the Akimichi Clan Head’s cousin and had probably been shortlisted as those three’s sensei months ago.

Kakashi relaxed and closed his eyes. His team was promised to him by Lord Third and would give him the chance to make up for not being there for Naruto by becoming his teacher and making sure Sasuke didn’t turn into another Itachi – or worse – in pursuit of revenge.

There were more practical reasons of course, but those were the ones that truly mattered to him. These last six years as a Jonin Sensei were pretty relaxing as far as a shinobi’s career went. He got to read as much as he wanted, do pretty easy missions to keep a roof over his head, and generally live life.

Every year Lord Third sent a genin team his way and every year he sent them back to the Academy, where they either repeated the year or went straight to the Genin Corps. Kids these days wanted to be shinobi more for the optics than anything else. They wanted to be the next big thing and had no idea what they were walking into; no teamwork, grit, or resolve to fall back on when he pushed them just a little.

His critics (cough, Kurenai, cough) said that he was afraid of commitment and made small issues bigger than they were so he could fail them but in reality, Kakashi wanted to spare them from the hellish shinobi life. Could he admit to it out loud? No, not really, since that would be a form of treason but he had a feeling Lord Third knew what he was doing and let it happen anyway.

That last batch must’ve been particularly irritating for him because this year, he gave Kakashi a team that he literally couldn’t refuse – even if he wanted to – because of village politics.

“Next is the sixth team: Sakura Haruno, Inuzuka Kiba, and Naruto Uzumaki. Who would like to make their case?”

His eye snapped open in shock. Naruto? Wasn’t he supposed to be on a team with Sasuke? What the hell had happened? Kakashi looked at Lord Third, who simply shook his head.

“I do.”

Lord Third nodded. “Take the stage, Asuma.”

“This team, at first glance, seems to be all out of sync compared to everyone we’ve seen so far,” said Asuma, “but I disagree. I think that they have the potential to be the most versatile one out of the bunch. Depending on whose capabilities they centre around, they can be a hard-hitting frontline squad or one focused on counter-intelligence. Meanwhile, all the other teams have been constructed to fulfil one single objective.

Inuzuka Kiba is a loud and generally brash child, but so was I, and I believe I can turn him into an exemplary shinobi using his clan’s tracking techniques. Sakura Haruno has the best chakra control in the entire cohort, even if her reserve is just below average. I have a recent venture that would be perfect for her and would supplement her genjutsu repertoire perfectly since she is a very prepared girl.

As for the matter of Naruto Uzumaki… I’m going to be blunt: he has the potential to be one of the strongest shinobi this village has ever seen. His chakra control is commendable, especially when factoring in his reserves – which on their own are the makings of a ninjutsu specialist.”

The room sparked to life with conversation. To the best of his knowledge, Naruto was supposed to be on his team. He was one of the only people able to control him in case the Nine-Tails’ chakra surfaced. He didn’t know why Lord Third hadn’t made this point already so he raised his hand.

“Yes, Kakashi.”

“Not to state the obvious, Lord Third, but as everyone in this room is aware, Naruto is the Jinchuriki of the Nine-Tails, an important asset of the village. With that in mind, I believed that he would be best placed on a team under me.”

The Hokage nodded slowly.

“Indeed that would be true… were you the only one able to bring Naruto under control in case the Nine-Tails exerted its influence upon him.”

Kakashi frowned.

“So are you saying that—”

“Over the last year, Asuma has been studying Sealing – Naruto’s seal in particular – and has reached an acceptable level of skill in the art.”

Kakashi took a deep breath and walked towards the front of the room. “Is that all? I’d like to make a rebuttal now.”

Lord Third cleared his throat.

“I am not finished. There is one more condition for Asuma to become Naruto’s Jonin Sensei: he must beat you in a match. In case he does not, his team will be comprised of Hinata Hyuuga, Shino Aburame, and Kiba Inuzuka. Yours will be Naruto Uzumaki, Sasuke Uchiha, and Sakura Haruno.

“And if he wins?” Kakashi asked.

“You will lead the seventh team: Sasuke Uchiha, Hinata Hyuuga, and Shino Aburame.” Lord Third looked to Asuma – who didn’t seem surprised – and then returned to him. “Are these terms agreeable to you both?”

Asuma nodded challengingly at him.

Kakashi glared back, more than pissed off enough. “Yes, sir.”

Most of the Jonin had decided to stay to watch the bout between him and Asuma. They were in the training hall underneath the Hokage building; Kakashi had only been in it once before when he showed his sensei the Chidori for the first time. The walls were thick and scorched in some places. Deep grooves ran across them, and the ground was rough and earthen.

Lord Third stood between them, pipe in mouth, as smoky tendrils coiled around his face. He opened his mouth and exhaled a puff of vapourish air. “The bout begins when I use the Body Flicker Justu. All techniques are permitted and this match will end once one of you forfeits or is unable to continue.

Are you ready?”

“Let’s get this started, old man.”

Lord Third snorted and nodded at him. “Kakashi, are you ready?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good.”

Coils of smoke tightened around him before dispelling as if torn apart by a gust of wind with Lord Third nowhere to be seen. He raised a kunai just in time as one of Asuma’s trench knives pierced the smoke with him following it moments after; he deflected it and it sank into the wall behind him.

Asuma stood stationary at the other end of the hall.

Kakashi made two hand seals and pushed off the ground at inhuman speed. The knife whizzed back and carved into the patch of ground he had previously stood on – a blue haze coating the weapon. Those trench knives weren’t just customised weapons, but chakra conductive ones.

He gritted his teeth, the fight had become harder than he thought. Recognising the jutsu Asuma was about to use, he slammed his hands against the ground and a thick earthen wall broke out between them. An explosive flash of heat collided against it; the flames howled in his ears, superheating the air. The fiery torrent roared against the rigid earth, its edges cracking.

All at once, the flames died and thick gunpowder clouds shifted around the wall to encase him. He cursed and dived into the ground just as the back of his standard-issue uniform smouldered. Kakashi exploded out of the ground but Asuma was already on him, stabbing down with his chakra-enhanced knives. He deflected the blade and kicked out at his knee, forced to roll out of the way as sharp, wind chakra grazed his cheek and split the ground with ease.

Springing to his feet, he leapt back to give himself some breathing space, three lightning-cloaked shuriken crackling after Asuma. Somehow, he knew exactly where he would surface from. Once more, he summoned an earthen wall with a few hand signs and a shadow clone emerged in a puff of smoke.

The clone, already knowing what he’d planned, vaulted over the wall as a heavy mist solidified in the arena. Using the Body Flicker Jutsu, he blitzed away from the wall and crossed the mist, making sure his footsteps were silent. His ears twitched under the clang of weaponry further ahead within the mist before stopping very suddenly at an influx of information.

“Shit,” he cursed.

A blast of tempestuous wind surged from ahead of him, tearing apart the nebulous cover and sending Kakashi tumbling back. His back slammed against a wall and he sent a kunai ahead to deflect one of the trench knives before the world jilted at the collision.

Asuma halted a few paces ahead and summoned the knife back into his hand.

“Alright,” said Kakashi, adjusting his headband and revealing Obito’s eye. “I didn’t think I’d need this, but here we are.”

His opponent grinned and the hazy aura around his knives thickened before it surged, buzzing dangerously and lengthening until the trench knives looked more like handles for each serrated chakra blade than actual weapons. He wasn’t going to play that game. With his Sharingan bared, Kakashi had nullified whatever he was doing to let him pinpoint his location but he could feel how much of a drag on his chakra reserves that left eye was; not that they were vast to begin with, and the longer this fight went on, the more it would tip in Asuma’s favour.

He summoned a clone and darted back, forming six hand seals before it popped in a puff of smoke – stabbed through the chest by a wind chakra blade. He winced at the spike of pain in his chest and drove his chakra-coated palms into the ground; the cracks quickly expanded into a fissure that split the ground ahead of him.

Asuma jumped to avoid falling into it and with another hand seal, the broken rock flew skyward, meshing together into jagged spikes. He sliced them apart, generating a compact gust of wind that tore another fissure into the ground. He couldn’t destroy all of them and had to twist his body to dodge another salvo of stakes, using the momentum to throw his knife at Kakashi as he fell.

Flying through another set of hand seals, he ducked the knife and slammed his left hand down, summoning an earthy-brown pillar to meet Asuma in mid-air. Three more burst out of the ground, demolishing the initial pillar into chunks of rock and dusty smoke. Kakashi’s throat warmed and he spewed a searing fireball at the dark cloud before darting to the other side of the hall. The fact that it took three mid-grade jutsu to guarantee a direct hit didn’t bode well but the upside was that he was controlling the fight.

As the smoke cleared, Kakashi could see that the glow around Asuma’s trench knives had vanished and grinned beneath his mask. The wind chakra would only empower his fireball, meaning he couldn’t cut it apart and was forced to take it head-on. Asuma shrugged off his flaming flak jacket and tossed it at Kakashi. When he touched down, he blitzed forward, chakra blades sparking to life with a low buzz. Kakashi kicked away the smouldering jacket and ten flaming orbs flared around him one by one. He hurled three at Asuma and followed right behind them. Seven more orbited him and, when he was a stone toss away, Kakashi slammed his hands together into the tiger seal and they surged forward as one.

His opponent jumped aside and the jutsu collided against the hall’s walls, blackening them. Then, he rushed forward with a lunging stab, the point of the chakra blade extending endlessly. Kakashi flipped back and threw a kunai, taking a momentary break to cover his Sharingan under his headband again. His chakra had dipped dangerously low and he probably only had another decent jutsu in him before chakra exhaustion would become a very possible reality.

He didn’t know what Asuma had been doing these past six years to get this strong but then again, he hadn’t been pushing himself as hard as he used to either, content to hover at his usual level and read his beloved literature. Leaping into the air, the olive-skinned Jonin took in a deep lungful of air and puffed out a cloud of ash darker and thicker than the earlier one, covering the entirety of the ground level.

Kakashi cursed. If he jumped up as Asuma no doubt wanted, he would probably lose the fight. If he used a wind jutsu to dispel the ash, he wouldn’t be able to use any other jutsu and would still lose the fight. That left only one other option: burrowing deep into the ground. As he did, he sealed the hole left by his entry and took cover. Asuma detonated all of the smoke, scorching everything above ground. He had to burrow even deeper to avoid the blast, which meant Asuma had overcharged the jutsu to try and catch him in it.

That said, he was caught at a crossroads. His chakra steadily depleted by the second to keep the earth around him soft and traversable and the Sarutobi knew where exactly he was and most likely had a trap prepared.

“Let’s see if this works,” he muttered, summoning another shadow clone and tanking his reserves into the red.

The clone burrowed upward and Kakashi was right on its tail. If Asuma could sense chakra, them being so close together and with identical signatures would throw him off at the very least, and let him bait out whatever plan he had cooked up.

When they exited the ground, the clone was ripped apart by a hail of wind blades. He burst forward, cracking the ground beneath him, towards Asuma. At this point, the only thing he could use was his trump card, even though it would have a weaker effect thanks to his wind chakra blades. Holding his right hand in his left, he concentrated as much lightning chakra as he could into his right hand until his jutsu screeched itself into existence.

The world blurred around him as he surged faster than ever before. Asuma brought up his knives to block him but he was still too slow. Kakashi streaked past him in an instant and slammed to a stop, arm buried elbow-deep into the wall ahead of him. When he turned, Asuma was nowhere to be seen and cold steel pressed against his neck. The man stood beside him, singed and scorched, but most importantly, unharmed by his Chidori.

The world began to darken, though understanding finally reached him as his eyes closed.

“You… the Shadow Clone Jutsu…”

Asuma’s deep breaths were the last thing he heard.

Kakashi opened his eyes a day later, having pushed himself to the edge of chakra exhaustion. At first, he didn’t know where he was or how he got there, but the longer he stared at the hospital roof, the more the realisation set in.

He’d lost.

It felt like the world itself was slipping between his fingers. For almost a year, he was preparing himself to teach Naruto, at least to rectify his absence in his childhood. He’d cleaned himself up and stopped neglecting his health so much in preparation for more dangerous missions. He’d also taken the time to read up on the boy and saw one thing that scared him: prodigy. But he didn’t know if Naruto was like him – he didn’t know Naruto at all and he lost the best chance he had to do so.

He’d failed.

After he was discharged, Kakashi wandered about the village aimlessly for a while before making his way to a house he hadn’t been to in almost ten years. The front yard was still carefully maintained, but the lights within the house were turned off. There was no dramatic yelling or the crash of pots and pans to greet him.

Just dead silence.

Making his way to the back of the house, he faced two identical headstones and sat down cross-legged on the grass. He poured two cups of saké and placed them on an ornate shelf between the two graves. The pictures of Minato and Kushina smiled down at him and he looked at them for all of two seconds before averting his gaze and staring at his lap.

With no more cups to use, he drank straight from the bottle in silence, a second unopened one lying in the grass beside him. The moon stretched across the dark sky and the night was cloudless. Wildlife rustled within the tall grass behind him but he paid them no mind, taking slow sips.

“You know…” he croaked, throat tight with emotion. “I know I’m a failure, but somehow, I wanted to change. To be the teacher for Naruto that you were to me. I don’t think I could be as… invigorating as you, Kushina, but I’d try.

I tried… and failed, as always.”

Kakashi clenched his fist and took a deep shuddering breath.

“...I wonder, do you guys hate me?”

He sat in silence, drinking until his cheeks were hot. It said a lot about him that he didn’t know someone was there until they placed a hand on his shoulder.

“No, I do not believe either of them would ever hate you, Kakashi.”

He looked up.

“Lord Third. What can I do for you today?” Kakashi blinked at him. His mind was moving slower than usual. “I’ll wa-warn you, I seem to be failing at a lo-oo-t of things these days.”

The elderly man sat beside him on the grass and removed his hat.

“Were we all to hold ourselves to such impossible standards, none of us would be successful.”

He snorted.

“My boy, I know it feels otherwise, but this is not the end of the world. You may have lost out on being Naruto’s teacher, but do you know how many children lost out on having you as theirs?”

“...I know,” he muttered.

“Apologies,” Lord Third sighed. “I did not wish to make you feel worse, but it is the truth. Your new team may not be the one you want, but I believe it is the one you need. Sasuke is… similar to how you used to be. A great loss in his life has warped him to worship power above all – just as how you worshipped the mission.”

Kakashi twitched.

Lord Third rose and donned his hat.

“But if it makes you feel better, I would not be opposed to hosting joint team exercises if your team performs adequately enough.”

He vanished in a whirlwind of leaves, leaving Kakashi alone with his inebriated thoughts.