At Santoryu's home, the atmosphere had shifted to something far more peaceful. After they arrived, his mother immediately attended to Kakashi's injury. With practiced care, she applied ointment to the cut across his palm and gently wrapped it with clean bandages. Kakashi, ever composed, thanked her with a small nod.
Afterward, the family gathered for breakfast. Plates were served, and conversation turned light.
Kakashi joined them at the table, eating calmly alongside Santoryu's parents. But Santoryu, though seated with them, refrained from eating. His reason was simple and unshakable—his daily training wasn't yet complete.
Since the first day he picked up a sword, he had made a personal vow: never miss a day of training. No matter the occasion, no matter the guests. He knew that eating now would disrupt the flow of his morning routine, and he couldn't allow that. Still, out of respect for Kakashi's presence, he sat with them during the meal, quietly accompanying everyone so as not to appear discourteous.
Once breakfast was finished, Kakashi stood, thanked them once more, and took his leave—his next destination already decided.
Santoryu watched him go, then quietly excused himself and returned to his rigorous routine. He picked up where he had left off and completed his morning training with the same discipline that had carried him this far, maintaining the rhythm of the promise he had made to himself.
–––
Later that afternoon, just as he had said, Kakashi arrived at the Hokage's office. The Hokage office was quiet, sunlight spilling through its high windows. Inside, Hiruzen Sarutobi sat at his desk, deeply immersed in paperwork.
A soft knock interrupted the silence.
An Anbu ninja entered the room with practiced formality. "Lord Hokage," he said, bowing slightly, "Kakashi requests an audience."
Sarutobi looked up from his desk, his gaze calm but sharp. "Send him in," he said without hesitation.
Sarutobi finished reviewing the last document on his desk and set it aside. By then, Kakashi was already standing in front of him, posture straight, eyes sharp beneath the shade of his headband.
The Third Hokage looked up at him, his expression unreadable. "It's good that you're here," he said, folding his hands on the desk. "I was going to summon you anyway."
He leaned back slightly in his chair and continued, "The members of your current team have raised concerns. They're unhappy with your behavior—specifically, how strictly you call out every minor rule infraction. Things they consider insignificant."
Kakashi's face remained composed, his voice even. "Rules are rules," he replied. "If they break them—even small ones—I point it out. A shinobi should obey orders and follow regulations without question. Otherwise, they can't be trusted in battle."
Sarutobi exhaled slowly, shaking his head with a quiet sigh. He had heard this before.
Since the death of his father, Sakumo, Kakashi had clung to the rules like a shield. Sarutobi understood—rules gave the boy structure, purpose, and something to believe in when grief had taken everything else. And technically, Kakashi wasn't wrong.
But this path had its own dangers. If Kakashi kept others at a distance, treating comrades as liabilities for their imperfections, he would never build true trust—never find the kind of teammates a shinobi must be able to rely on with his life.
Still, Sarutobi knew this wasn't a lesson that could be forced.
He set the topic aside for now. "Anyway," he said, shifting the tone, "I assume you didn't come here just to talk about that. And don't tell me you're here to complain about your teammates again."
Kakashi gave a slight shake of his head. "No, Lord Hokage," he said. "I came to talk about my cousin—Santoryu Hatake."
Sarutobi leaned back slightly, rubbing his chin as he considered the name. "Santoryu… Santoryu Hatake?" he said slowly. "Wasn't he expelled from the Ninja Academy two years ago? I recall it was due to his complete lack of talent in ninjutsu."
Kakashi nodded. "Yes. That's correct."
Sarutobi narrowed his eyes. "Then what about him?"
Kakashi answered plainly. "Today, he and I had a sparring match. It ended in a draw."
That statement alone gave Sarutobi pause. Kakashi, rarely impressed, was not one to exaggerate. As Kakashi continued, he gave a concise but clear account of the duel—Santoryu's speed, strength, discipline, and his sharp sensory perception. Sarutobi listened carefully, noting the precision in Kakashi's words.
When he finished, Sarutobi raised an eyebrow. "Is that so?" he muttered, more to himself than to Kakashi. "He's developed that far? Exceptional swordsmanship… physical strength well above average… and highly attuned sensory awareness. It sounds like he's built himself into a formidable close-quarters fighter. Impressive. It seems he has talent—just not in the traditional shinobi mold."
He looked up at Kakashi. "So you want me to make him a ninja? You're asking me to grant him Genin status?"
Kakashi gave a firm nod. "Yes. He's ready. His strength and discipline are more than enough, and I believe he'll perform his duties with precision and dedication."
Sarutobi was quiet for a moment, then gave a small nod. "Very well. But I'd like to meet him myself. I want to judge with my own eyes whether he truly meets the standard—your word carries weight, Kakashi, but the final decision is mine."
Kakashi had expected as much. "Understood. I'll bring Santoryu here as soon as possible," he said with a respectful bow.
Sarutobi nodded in return. "I'll be waiting."
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