reborn as Sakumo Hatake

The night blanketed Konoha in a quiet calm. Fires for cooking and warmth flickered across the village, the soft glow casting long shadows on the half-repaired walls. While most residents rested after a grueling day, the Hatakes had gathered near a small training ground just beyond the village's edge. 

Kakashi leaned casually against a wooden post, his silver hair catching the moonlight. His posture was relaxed, but his gaze was sharp, observing every detail of his father's movements. 

Sakumo stood in the center of the clearing, his stance poised. The weight of his sword rested in his grip like a natural extension of his arm. Slowly, he shifted, practicing deliberate strikes that flowed seamlessly from one to the next. Each movement carried precision and grace, yet an intensity simmered just beneath the surface. 

"You're still sharp," Kakashi remarked, his tone neutral but tinged with a hint of admiration. "Haven't lost a step." 

Sakumo paused mid-swing, turning slightly to glance at his son. "You'd be surprised how much you retain when you've been through as many battles as I have." 

Kakashi smirked under his mask. "And yet, you keep training. What's the point when you're already that good?" 

Sakumo sheathed his blade, the quiet *snick* of the metal echoing through the clearing. "Because there's always someone better. And if there isn't, there will be." 

Kakashi's eye narrowed, the words sinking in. "Fair enough. But I doubt there's anyone who could match you with a blade right now." 

"Maybe," Sakumo said, his tone thoughtful. "But it's not about matching. It's about being prepared." 

The two stood in silence for a moment before Kakashi pushed off the post. "Prepared, huh? Mind testing how prepared I am?" 

Sakumo raised an eyebrow, a flicker of amusement crossing his face. "You're challenging me?" 

"Not a challenge," Kakashi replied, his voice steady. "Just curious to see where I stand." 

Sakumo studied his son for a moment before nodding. "Alright. Let's see what you've got." 

---

The clearing came alive with movement. Kakashi darted forward, his speed impressive as he launched a flurry of kunai at his father. Sakumo sidestepped effortlessly, his hand darting out to deflect the projectiles with the flat of his blade. 

Kakashi followed up immediately, closing the gap with a series of swift taijutsu strikes. His movements were fluid, each attack calculated and precise. But Sakumo matched him with ease, his counters almost lazy in their efficiency. 

"Good form," Sakumo remarked, blocking a kick aimed at his side. "You've refined your technique since we last sparred." 

Kakashi didn't respond, his focus entirely on the fight. He dropped low, sweeping his leg out in an attempt to trip his father. Sakumo leapt over the attack, his sword flashing in the moonlight as he brought it down toward Kakashi's shoulder. 

The younger Hatake twisted away at the last moment, the blade missing him by inches. He retaliated with a burst of chakra, forming a shadow clone that lunged at Sakumo from behind. 

Sakumo's blade blurred as he pivoted, dispelling the clone in a puff of smoke. "Creative," he said, a note of approval in his voice. "But you'll need more than that." 

---

Their sparring continued for several minutes, the sound of clashing steel and rustling leaves filling the air. Eventually, Kakashi landed lightly on a nearby branch, breathing hard but grinning beneath his mask. 

"You're holding back," he accused, though there was no malice in his tone. 

Sakumo chuckled, lowering his sword. "Of course I am. I'd rather not have to explain to Tsunade why you're in the hospital." 

Kakashi huffed, though his visible eye sparkled with amusement. "Fair enough." 

Sakumo sheathed his sword once more, stepping back into the clearing. "You've improved, Kakashi. More than I expected." 

Kakashi leapt down from the branch, landing gracefully. "I've had good teachers," he said simply. 

Sakumo placed a hand on his son's shoulder, his grip firm but warm. "You've done well, Kakashi. You'll carry the Hatake name proudly long after I'm gone." 

Kakashi stiffened slightly at the words but didn't pull away. "You're not going anywhere, old man. Not for a long time." 

Sakumo didn't respond immediately. Instead, he smiled faintly, his gaze drifting toward the horizon where the stars shimmered brightly. 

"Let's hope you're right," he said softly. 

---

As the night deepened, the two Hatakes returned to the village. The streets were quieter now, most of the villagers having retired for the evening. But even in the stillness, the spirit of Konoha was alive. 

Before parting ways, Sakumo glanced at his son. "Get some rest, Kakashi. Tomorrow's another long day." 

Kakashi nodded, his eye lingering on his father for a moment longer than usual. "You too." 

As Sakumo watched his son disappear into the shadows, he felt a pang of pride mingled with a tinge of sadness. Kakashi had grown into a formidable shinobi, but the burdens he carried were heavier than most. 

Sakumo turned toward his temporary quarters, his thoughts drifting to the challenges ahead. The village was healing, but it would take time—and strength—to rebuild what had been lost. 

But as he stepped into the quiet of his room, he allowed himself a moment of hope. Konoha had faced countless trials before, and each time, it had emerged stronger. This time would be no different.