Heavy rain.

In Konohagakure, a downpour is falling.

Under the leaden gray sky, raindrops, dark as ink, pound the earth, as if to vent something, or perhaps to lament.

A boy with white hair stands silently before an unnamed tombstone, letting the torrential rain soak him, as if this is the only way to extinguish the pain that nearly overflows within his heart.

Kakashi Hatake, son of Sakumo Hatake. It has been three days since the White Fang of the Leaf, Sakumo Hatake, was buried. Amidst the villagers’ contempt and hatred, Kakashi stands like a puppet, dazed before the grave, gazing at the small, nameless mound.

Because he had committed suicide out of guilt for betraying the village on a mission, he did not even receive a proper grave with a name.

No matter that he was the White Fang of the Leaf, no matter that he was a war hero.

As long as there is a stain, everything before it will be denied; this is the current attitude of Konoha.

“……”

Silently looking at the small grave, Kakashi, drenched in the rain, is filled with ashes in his heart.

He does not understand why his father would choose to die before him; he also cannot comprehend why his seemingly god-like father ended up like this.

Missions, bonds, the Will of Fire.

Suddenly, Kakashi's ears twitched, and he glanced sideways.

“Sorry, I was trying to be quiet and not disturb you. Did I interrupt you?”

A gentle man, holding a black oiled-paper umbrella and dressed in a pure white haori, wearing round glasses, approached him with a basket in hand.

Amidst the black rain, the pure white haori and the steaming food basket created a warm atmosphere.

However, because of this, Kakashi did not want to see this smiling man.

Because he knew who this man was.

The man, who seemed to embody gentleness, slightly bowed towards the nameless grave in the rain.

Then, he knelt down to the boy’s height, looking at the silent boy in front of the tombstone with compassion, and placed the basket on the ground.

“……You still don’t want to talk?”

Kneeling half on the wet ground, letting the mud stain his pure white haori, the man’s deep yet magnetic voice softly comforted Kakashi.

“But even if I insist a bit, I must disturb you, Kakashi-kun. If you keep this up, you won’t be able to hold on. No matter what emotions you have, you need a healthy body to support them.”

Some steam was faintly rising from the overlapping bamboo lid, bringing with it an enticing aroma. It even made Kakashi instinctively glance over.

Seeing that the five- or six-year-old boy was finally no longer stubborn, the man revealed a gentle smile and lifted the lid.

Two bowls of freshly made ramen were carefully placed in the basket, exuding an irresistible fragrance.

Looking at the familiar appearance of the ramen, Kakashi instinctively swallowed.

“Kakashi-kun, it’s been three days. It must be painful to be alone like this, right? I brought you something warm to eat, Ichiraku Ramen. If you don’t mind, how about we eat together?”

“……”

Hearing the words "eat together," the white-haired boy shuddered.

It was not because of the coldness of the rain, but because the meaning behind those words made him feel sick.

Kakashi’s numb and hollow gaze flicked to the gentle man, then returned to the small grave.

“……You don’t need to care about me.”

“What a stubborn child. Are you really not going to eat? Ichiraku Ramen is very delicious.”

“……”

“Even if Kakashi-kun doesn’t want to eat, you should think about those who care for you.”

One hand held the oiled-paper umbrella over both of them, while the other carefully presented the chopsticks to Kakashi.

In the pouring rain, the man’s smile, which helped shield the child from the storm, was as warm as the equatorial sun, and his magnetic voice conveyed his concern and care.

“You’re still in school, Kakashi-kun. It’s a time when you need adult help. Whether it’s Lord Hokage or everyone in the village, although your father’s actions have a reason, everyone also realizes their own excesses. You shouldn’t torment yourself because of this, right?”

“——I said! Don’t care about me!”

‘Bang!’

The bowl of ramen, containing hot soup and noodles, was suddenly knocked away, crashing to the ground and shattering.

In the rain, the steaming noodles quickly mixed with the dirt and grime on the ground, becoming a disgusting puddle of black mud.

Just like Kakashi’s malice towards the man behind him, the boy’s tender face was filled with pure hatred and hostility towards that gentle-looking man.

“……You don’t need to pretend to care, Aizen Sosuke.”

Kakashi raised his head, defiantly glaring at the warm man before him.

“My father saw right through you; you’re not a good person. You don’t need to feign concern for me here!”

“Your father said… Sakumo-kun?”

Looking at the broken soup bowl on the ground, the man known as Aizen glanced at his wrist, slightly burned from the spilled soup, pushed up his glasses, and revealed a hint of sadness and nostalgia in his eyes.

“Those keen eyes were indeed powerful, but they were also the source of his downfall. Clearly able to see through others, yet stubbornly believing in himself, ultimately giving up the one he loved most and walking a road of no return—this is truly a sad thing.”

“What are you saying?!”

“I’m saying this—

It’s truly tragic, Kakashi-kun. From the perspective of an adult, this is a very sad matter.”

Pushing up his glasses, Aizen sighed softly, hiding his eyes behind the glare of the lenses, as if shielding his own sadness.

“Although we are from the same village, we remain guarded against each other; it’s really heartbreaking. I genuinely feel very, very sad about this situation.”

“But I understand that he has a huge misunderstanding of me; after all, I have always worked for Lord Hokage and the Will of Fire. Many times, I don’t want to do certain things, but it’s for the sake of the village. If I want to uphold the Will of Fire, I must do so.”

“Your father was admirable; his love for you was genuine. But things are different now. You are still a child; I thought this should be a matter between adults, yet I didn’t expect it to involve a child… I may have said too much. Kakashi-kun, I’m sorry.”

Looking at Kakashi’s face, which was nearly twisted in the rain, the gentle man known as Aizen sighed softly and took a step back.

“I will come again tomorrow, Kakashi-kun. Until you can accept me.”

“……Go away, don’t come back.”

“It’s not good to say dirty words.”

Aizen looked at the stubborn Kakashi and shook his head helplessly, placing the black oiled-paper umbrella and the last bowl of ramen on the ground, covering Kakashi's small form.

He made no outrageous gestures towards the child’s resentful gaze and behavior, simply nodded silently to Kakashi, then stepped back, cleaned up the broken bowls and chopsticks on the ground, and collected the spoiled noodles.

Due to the harsh environment, Aizen frowned, tore a piece of his haori, wrapped the spoiled items, and bowed slightly to the child who did not look at him. Then, he let the heavy rain drench him and slowly left the public cemetery.

After Aizen left, the cemetery returned to its original appearance.

The black rain continued to fall, but this time, no raindrops fell on Kakashi.

And Kakashi looked at the black oiled-paper umbrella on the ground, along with the last bowl of Ichiraku Ramen, which was still steaming and covered for him. His small face was filled with struggle and hesitation.

The young child’s heart was tossed by stormy waves; his two hands were tightly clenched into fists, and drops of blood flowed from his fingertips to the ground. On one side was a good person who helped him and the most well-regarded ninja, and on the other was his father’s warning.

He did not know what was wrong with this world. The father, like a hero, committed suicide in front of him, while others outside pointed fingers; only Aizen expressed goodwill towards him.

But his father once said that Aizen was a terrible person. But now, in this situation, can he really trust his father?

Is the village wrong, or is his father wrong?

Aizen Sosuke.

He is clearly the best person in this village; I used to admire him. Yet, because of his father’s words, he adhered to a correct yet obedient hostility.

But now, his father is a “coward” who violated the village’s rules and committed suicide out of guilt. He is merely the son of a “coward.” Aizen, however, has repeatedly helped him without holding grudges, even helping to host much of the funeral.

Kakashi knows he is a sharp and talented young boy; he understands many things more than normal children. But because of this, he feels increasingly painful and confused.

“What am I supposed to do… Father… are you really the wrong one?”

‘……’

The lonely grave does not speak, merely allowing the black rain to pour down, drowning the child’s world.

And in the shadows, several pairs of indifferent eyes that had been watching quietly hid their figures as Aizen left, completely departing from the area.

Minutes later, at the cemetery’s entrance.

Several different shadows gathered together, respectfully bowing to the gentle man holding the broken bowls and trash.

“Lord Aizen, thank you for your hard work. Do you need treatment for your burns?”

“Ah, it’s nothing. Just take care of the trash; I need to report to Lord Hokage soon.”

Handing the torn haori and broken bowls to one of the figures, Aizen looked back at the cemetery, smiling as he addressed the surrounding Anbu:

“Even though it has brought great harm to the village, the child is innocent. I believe Kakashi-kun possesses the Will of Fire. He will emerge from this. It just may take a little time.”

“Lord Aizen…”

“Thank you for your hard work, everyone. This is all for the Will of Fire.”

Nodding to the deeply moved ninjas, Aizen smiled and walked towards the tallest building in the village.