Chapter 135 – A Tower Built of Sand
Although the fight was limited to taijutsu, the commotion quickly grew loud enough to draw a crowd. Onlookers gathered from all sides, whispering and pointing.
With Guy and Obito intercepting two opponents, Kakashi soon gained the upper hand in his one-on-one exchange. His punches and kicks came fast and merciless, landing cleanly against his opponent.
But Guy and Obito were having a far harder time.
After all, they were still academy students. Against genin, they could manage. Against chūnin, however, they were clearly outmatched.
It wasn't long before both of them had taken several solid hits.
Seeing this, Kakashi didn't hesitate. He broke away and pulled one of the chūnin off Guy, shifting the battlefield.
Now it became:
Kakashi vs. two chūnin.
Guy and Obito vs. one genin.
The situation froze into a tense stalemate. Blows were exchanged on both sides, neither gaining decisive ground—
Until someone shouted:
"The Uchiha Police are here!"
An Uchiha patrol unit—one jōnin and two chūnin—arrived swiftly and separated the six fighters with ease.
The three loudmouthed shinobi tried to maintain their bravado—until the Uchiha jōnin released a fraction of his killing intent.
They quieted immediately.
After hearing the basic outline of the incident, the patrol members exchanged tired glances. Rumors about Hatake Sakumo had been running rampant through the village. The Police Force had already handled multiple disputes sparked by them.
And this jōnin knew even more than most.
He was well aware there was someone pushing things from the shadows.
He had no desire to get involved in that mess.
Besides—
Hatake Sakumo's son defending his father?
That was only natural.
He glanced at the three instigators—two chūnin and one genin—who somehow looked worse for wear than Kakashi's group. Bruised, swollen, humiliated.
Three shinobi, and they couldn't handle one chūnin and two academy students?
Embarrassing.
The Uchiha jōnin lost even more interest in the matter.
He gave both sides a stern but measured lecture and waved them off.
That should have ended it.
But the three troublemakers refused to let it go.
"Jōnin-sama, this isn't fair! They attacked us first—how can you just let them leave?"
"Yeah! Look at these injuries! We were just chatting, and Kakashi suddenly attacked us for no reason!"
They bickered loudly, like street gossips, giving the Police a headache.
"Enough!" the Uchiha jōnin snapped. "You call yourselves shinobi? Three against one and you still lost? That's disgraceful."
"If you keep causing trouble, I'll take all of you back to the Police headquarters."
That shut them up instantly.
They absolutely did not want to go to the Police headquarters.
That was Uchiha territory.
And there was another uncomfortable detail—
They glanced sideways at Obito, who stood nearby making exaggerated faces at them.
An Uchiha had been part of this fight.
If they went to headquarters, whose side would the Police lean toward?
Not a risk worth taking.
The three left in humiliation, battered in both pride and body.
---
Kakashi, Guy, and Obito walked away together.
Only once they were out of sight of the Police did they finally relax—especially Obito, who had barely dared to breathe while the patrol was present.
"What's wrong with you, Obito?" Guy grinned broadly. "Youth shouldn't be so timid!"
"What do you know?" Obito hissed. "That jōnin lives next door to my house! If he tells my grandma—"
He shuddered at the thought.
Kakashi and Guy both gave him sympathetic looks.
Everyone knew how much Obito adored his grandmother.
The deeper the love, the greater the fear.
After a brief moment of shared misery, their attention shifted back to Kakashi.
Obito recovered quickly, curiosity taking over.
"Hey… why were you even fighting them in the first place?"
They'd jumped in without thinking—just seeing Kakashi being ganged up on was enough.
Only now did it occur to them to ask.
Kakashi hesitated.
But remembering how they had stood beside him without question, he decided to explain.
Briefly.
Simply.
When he finished—
"What? That's ridiculous!" Obito exploded.
Even he had heard of Konoha's White Fang.
How could someone slander him over something like that?
Saving a comrade and abandoning a mission?
So what?!
Even if the mission had truly failed—what of it?
What shinobi could guarantee a 100% success rate?
None.
Not a single one.
Obito's fists clenched.
"That's not justice. That's just bullying."
Guy's usual smile faded slightly. Though he didn't fully grasp the political undercurrents, he understood one thing clearly:
Protecting comrades was not something to be ashamed of.
Kakashi remained silent.
The wind rustled softly through the trees.
Somewhere deep inside him, the conflict still raged—
Mission first?
Or comrades first?
He didn't have the answer.
But today, when he had stood alone—
Two people had rushed in without hesitation.
They hadn't calculated odds.
They hadn't weighed consequences.
They simply came.
And for the first time in days—
The knot in Kakashi's chest loosened, just a little.
In Guy's simple, almost rustic understanding of the world, comrades were the most important thing. That, to him, was the true meaning of the Will of Fire.
"Kakashi, don't take those rumors to heart," Guy said seriously, no trace of his usual exaggerated poses. "Justice lives in people's hearts. Senior Sakumo's achievements over all these years can't be shaken by a few loose tongues. And plenty of people in the village believe he did nothing wrong—Obito and I included.
Comrades come first.
A failed mission can be remedied.
But if a comrade dies… that's final."
The stark contrast between Guy's usual antics and his solemn expression made his words carry even greater weight.
Kakashi felt something warm stir in his chest.
They were all still young—hot-blooded, straightforward, and idealistic. At their age, the world was simple. Comrades naturally outweighed everything else.
And the fact that Guy and Obito had rushed in without hesitation to help him tipped the scale in his heart even further toward that side.
After speaking openly, the bond between the three deepened. On the surface, they still sniped at each other—but wasn't that just another form of closeness?
As night fell, they parted ways.
---
When Kakashi returned home, he found his father already seated in the living room.
An awkward expression flickered across his face.
Sakumo had been waiting eagerly, hoping to share dinner with his son.
But the moment Kakashi stepped inside—bruised, battered, clothes wrinkled—Sakumo's eyes sharpened.
He set down his teacup.
"You got into a fight?"
His voice was low, but gentle.
Kakashi lowered his head. "Yeah."
Sakumo sighed softly. "Because of the rumors?"
Though he himself cared little for gossip, he hadn't realized how deeply it had affected Kakashi. Taichi's reminder before leaving suddenly echoed in his mind.
It was time to talk.
He gestured for Kakashi to sit.
The simple act surprised Kakashi. Father and son rarely talked like this outside of training.
The thought flickered past—but the rumors resurfaced immediately.
Kakashi clenched his fists.
"They said… they said you don't deserve to be a shinobi for abandoning the mission. They said your actions caused the village massive losses…"
Sakumo fell silent for a moment, studying his son's stubborn profile.
"What do you think?" he asked quietly. "Was I wrong?"
Kakashi froze.
He looked up at his father—then lowered his gaze again.
He remembered Guy and Obito charging in to help him without hesitation.
He remembered Taichi asking him which weighed more—mission or comrade.
He remembered Rin's worried eyes.
Those memories surfaced one by one.
Something inside him settled.
"You were right," Kakashi said firmly. "A mission can be redone. But a comrade's life only comes once. If it were me… I would have chosen to save my comrade too."
Sakumo's eyes widened slightly—then softened with relief.
He ruffled Kakashi's hair, rare warmth in his smile.
"My son has grown up. You can think for yourself now."
He wasn't pleased because Kakashi agreed with him.
He was pleased because Kakashi had reached his own conclusion.
Kakashi looked away, embarrassed—but couldn't suppress the faint curve of his lips.
Sakumo gazed out the window at the night sky.
"Remember," he said softly, "a true shinobi is not a tool that only completes missions. A shinobi is a shield that protects what matters most. As long as your conscience is clear, outside voices don't matter."
Father and son exchanged a smile.
They had never felt closer.
The moon outside shone unusually bright.
Yet while Kakashi agreed with most of his father's words, he couldn't ignore the rumors entirely.
They weren't attacking just anyone.
They were attacking his father.
---
The Next Morning
After finishing his training, Taichi headed straight to Konoha Hospital.
The staff were surprised—he usually only helped in the afternoons.
Taichi brushed off their curiosity with a smile. The fewer people who knew his purpose, the better.
If someone wanted to look up a shinobi's basic information, the obvious place was the Archives Office—but as a mere chūnin, accessing those records would leave traces.
There was another option most people overlooked.
The hospital.
Even shinobi got sick.
Even shinobi got injured.
And that meant medical files.
As a doctor there, Taichi had legitimate access to ordinary medical records. Yūsuke wasn't some classified operative.
Sure enough, when Taichi entered Yūsuke's name, the man's file appeared.
Basic information. Medical history.
All Taichi needed was the address.
He created a shadow clone to continue working at the hospital, while his real body headed toward Yūsuke's residence.
Rooftop to rooftop—standard shinobi travel inside the village.
Before he even arrived, raised voices reached his ears.
It was Yūsuke.
Taichi dropped silently into an alley corner and listened.
"What? You want me to publicly accuse Captain Hatake?" Yūsuke demanded. "Who are you people? What are you really after?"
"We're just exposing Hatake Sakumo's hypocrisy. Completing the mission is a shinobi's foremost duty. He abandoned it and caused huge losses to the village."
Taichi nearly laughed out loud.
Idiots.
They were insulting the monk for being bald—forgetting Sakumo had abandoned the mission to save Yūsuke.
And this Yūsuke was no cripple barely surviving as in the original timeline. He was healthy. A Special Jōnin with a future.
"And the mission was completed in the end," Yūsuke snapped. "You're trying to stir internal conflict. That makes you spies."
He drew his short blade.
"Come with me to see the Hokage. Or I'll use force."
The two agitators panicked and bolted toward the alley exit—
Only to find a short figure blocking the way.
"Move, brat!" one shouted, charging forward.
Behind them, Yūsuke recognized Taichi and stopped cold.
He knew exactly how strong Taichi was.
Taichi didn't draw his blade.
A short-range Body Flicker.
Two punches—precise, brutal—into their stomachs.
They collapsed instantly.
"Petty scum," Taichi muttered, finishing them off with two quick chops to the neck.
Yūsuke's eye twitched.
He'd only intended to scare them.
Taichi had actually hit them.
"Taichi… what a coincidence."
"I came looking for you," Taichi replied casually, nudging the unconscious men. "Looks like I didn't need to."
Understanding dawned.
"It's about Captain Hatake."
"Yes. Someone is pushing this from behind the scenes. I wanted to make sure you weren't being manipulated."
Yūsuke's expression hardened.
"Tell me what to do. I'm one of the key parties involved."
Taichi studied him.
In the original timeline, Yūsuke had become one of the final straws that broke Sakumo.
Here?
He was ready to defend him.
Circumstances shaped people more than anyone realized.
"Turn these two over to the Police. Say they're spies spreading rumors."
"That's it? We're not digging deeper?"
Taichi actually blinked.
So bold.
Even most of Konoha didn't dare investigate further.
"There's no need. The waters are too deep," Taichi said calmly. "Just hold your position. Sakumo-senpai may not care about public opinion—but he cares about the views of his teammates."
Yūsuke nodded firmly.
"I understand."
Taichi gave him one last measuring look.
Grain by grain.
Sand built towers.
And sometimes—
All it took was one missing grain for everything to collapse.