"The battlefield... huh?"
The chopsticks, laden with food, hovered mid-air. After a brief pause, he slipped the bite into his mouth and chewed it slowly. Yet the dish that had burst with flavor just moments before turned bland and tasteless the instant he learned that the young man he'd spent the past three years with was heading off to war.
In the young girl's memories, war was a terrifying monster. For a scrap of land, a sack of coin, a single person, or even just pride. You kill me, I kill him, he kills you. She herself had been one of its victims.
"Is it dangerous?"
Hikari lifted her gaze to Kakashi, who looked as relaxed as if he were simply heading out on a casual trip in a few days.
"No."
Kakashi's reply was immediate.
"...Liar."
Hikari couldn't help the spark of annoyance that flared up as she stared at the man so blatantly fibbing to her face. She'd always thought Konoha was a peaceful place. So even here, something as horrifying as war could rear its head? And this guy in front of her—if he was going to lie, couldn't he at least cook up something more believable? How could war not be dangerous?
"Should I... should I go?"
"I can help you."
The black-haired girl fixed her hesitant stare on Kakashi, her clear eyes gleaming under the bright overhead light, as if she'd just resolved some monumental decision. She hated battlefields. But she hated the idea of Kakashi dying on one even more. So, even though the thought of battlefields made her skin crawl, she could stomach it—for Kakashi's sake.
"If you don't like something, don't force yourself into it."
Kakashi chuckled as he regarded Hikari. Sure, Hikari was strong. But if he kept ducking behind her every time trouble cropped up, he'd be utterly pathetic. From the start, when Kakashi had sought out Hikari, he'd hoped she would become the force to confront Madara and Ōtsutsuki Kaguya down the line, making up for the absence of Kamui. And until then, Kakashi had never planned to treat Hikari as just another tool for dodging his problems. Hikari despised battlefields, and Kakashi had no desire to drag her into that mess. That was all there was to it. Hiding behind someone else would never forge true strength. And Kakashi needed to grow strong—he had to; he wouldn't let himself cower behind anyone.
"But I'm still happy that Hikari's worried about me."
Setting down his bowl and chopsticks, Kakashi gently brushed a few stray locks of Hikari's hair behind her crystal-clear ear. His eyes crinkled into crescent moons, and the white-haired young man let out a soft laugh as he took in the sight of the pouting girl.
"You jerk..."
"If you're so eager to die, then go ahead and die."
Feeling those fingers lingering and toying with her hair near her ear, the girl's cheeks flushed faintly. She reached out and swatted away the mischievous hand, her lips pursed in a sulky pout.
"Well, such harsh words are truly heartbreaking."
Kakashi rose to his feet and stepped out of the house. Someone had arrived.
It was Jiraiya.
As night settled in, two white-haired figures perched on the wooden veranda beneath the eaves. Three years had passed since their last parting. Jiraiya looked exactly as Kakashi remembered him—not a single change.
"No fancy tea in the house, just some plain leaves I picked up from a roadside shop."
Kakashi gestured toward the teapot sitting between them.
"Don't sweat the small stuff."
Jiraiya waved it off. After a bit of light banter, his eyes drifted inadvertently to the firmly shut door inside the house. With a knowing grin—the kind every man instantly recognizes—he shot Kakashi a sly, teasing look and chuckled: "I had no idea, you dense blockhead. You've got some real game."
Kakashi followed Jiraiya's line of sight. Hikari had already retreated to her room.
"Hikari's different from the others."
Three years of shared life could warm even the coldest stone, let alone Kakashi, who wasn't some heartless, emotionless shell. He knew exactly what Jiraiya was implying. But just like with Yuhi, Kakashi had zero interest in romance. His head wasn't wired for that sort of thing. At least not right now. Kakashi didn't grasp what love really was, so he couldn't wrap his mind around why Minato Namikaze had chased after Uzumaki Kushina. He knew what love was in theory, but he couldn't feel it. After all, in his previous life—a world obsessed with material gain—something like that had been far too extravagant a luxury. To Kakashi, Hikari was a powerful ally. Nothing more.
"Different is different. Let's get to business."
"I heard you talked the Old Man into this war against Kumogakure."
"Care to tell me what was going through your head?"
"You're the one who knows war's cruelty better than anyone."
Jiraiya dropped the Hikari topic without pushing further, steering the conversation toward the conflict with Kumogakure instead. As a die-hard pacifist, he didn't lash out in rage over Kakashi's decision; he just regarded his grand-student with calm curiosity.
"Hokage-sama must have filled you in."
Kakashi's tone stayed even.
"The Old Man told me, sure. But I'd rather hear the answer I'm after straight from your mouth."
In response to Jiraiya's words, Kakashi lifted his tea from the low table and drained it in one go. "The answer Lord Jiraiya wants?"
"Whatever you want to hear, I can spin something that'll satisfy you—just say the word."
But Jiraiya just stared at him calmly, prompting Kakashi to flash a helpless smile. "Looks like you're serious. I was just trying to lighten the mood."
Jiraiya eyed Kakashi and said: "Has anyone ever told you you're not exactly the guy to 'lighten the mood'?"
Kakashi poured himself another cup, cradling the warm vessel as he gazed out at the sunflowers Hikari had planted in the courtyard. Under Jiraiya's steady stare, he sighed in resignation: "I've already hashed this out with Hokage-sama."
"It came up at the Jonin meeting too."
"Instead of grilling me with these random questions here, why not dig up the meeting minutes?"
"Or gear up for the war that's coming."
Jiraiya let out a helpless smile at Kakashi's retort: "Guess I've turned into a pest for the younger crowd."
"Am I really getting that old?"
Kakashi couldn't help but roll his eyes like a pair of dead fish at Jiraiya's self-deprecating jab. Even the Third Hokage had ribbed him about calling him old.
"Yeah, yeah, I get it."
"It's a straightforward idea: the village needs fresh blood, not the same tired, gloomy vibe it's been stuck in."
"The older generation has experience the kids can't match, sure—but that experience can be passed down from old to young. The spark, the drive of the youth? That doesn't flow the other way."
"Honestly, I was shocked the Third Hokage actually bought into my pitch."
"I figured he'd be one of those stubborn old coots."
"After all, the Third Hokage's been in that seat for decades; he knows the ins and outs of war better than anyone."