Having successfully extorted an astonishing eight hundred thousand ryo from the Main House, Kei proceeded directly to the Hokage Tower. There, Hiruzen Sarutobi formally briefed him on his highly classified assignment: he was to conduct a comprehensive psychological evaluation and mandatory counseling for ANBU Captain Hatake Kakashi.
Kei accepted the scroll with a solemn bow, though internally, he was absolutely thrilled.
He had wanted to get Kakashi on his clinical couch for weeks. The silver-haired prodigy was a walking nexus of profound, untreated trauma—a veritable goldmine for high-tier System rewards. Until now, Kakashi had aggressively avoided him, rebuffing any attempts at conversation. But with a direct, signed mandate from the Third Hokage, the Hound had run out of places to hide.
Kei tracked his new patient to the Konoha public cemetery.
The afternoon air was cool, carrying the faint, solemn scent of burning incense. Through his heightened empathic perception, Kei located Kakashi standing utterly still before a polished, unmarked gravestone.
The aura radiating from the elite assassin was devastating. It was an ocean of crushing, suffocating grief, so dense it felt as though it were physically warping the air around him. It was a stark, jarring contrast to the detached, lazy apathy Kakashi usually projected to the world.
Kei did not interrupt immediately. He stood quietly on the gravel path a respectful distance away, leaning on his cane.
A minute later, Kakashi's heightened instincts finally registered the intrusion. The transformation was instantaneous. Kakashi rubbed a gloved hand over his face, and the suffocating sorrow vanished behind an impenetrable wall of ice. He buried his hands in his pockets, his posture returning to its customary, defensive slouch.
Though Kakashi had flawlessly reset his physical mask, Kei could still feel the chaotic, bleeding wounds churning beneath the surface.
Kei walked forward, the gravel crunching softly beneath his boots. He extended a small bouquet of white lilies he had purchased on the way. "My apologies, Kakashi-senpai. I was attempting to approach quietly so as not to disturb your peace. It seems I still intruded."
Kakashi didn't make a move to take the flowers. His visible eye narrowed, cold and unwelcoming. "What are you doing here, Hyuga?"
Kei wasn't bothered by the hostility in the slightest. In his clinical practice, he had dismantled defenses far thicker than this. He simply stepped past the ANBU captain and gently laid the lilies at the base of the gravestone.
"Kakashi," Kei began, turning back to face him. "May I ask you a question?"
"What do you want?" Kakashi retorted, his tone flat. "I told you in the alley, I am not sick. I have absolutely no interest in your parlor-trick psychology."
"You misunderstand me," Kei replied, his voice a soothing, conversational murmur. "We are not going to discuss psychology today. Consider this a simple, professional inquiry between two shinobi."
Kakashi remained entirely rigid, clearly not buying the premise. "Ask."
"I want to know... in your eyes, Kakashi, what exactly does a mission represent?"
Kakashi stared at the blind doctor. The air between them instantly darkened, the ambient temperature plummeting as Kakashi's ANBU conditioning flared to the surface. It was a loaded question, striking directly at the core of the trauma surrounding his father, Sakumo, and his fallen teammate, Obito.
After a heavy, suffocating silence, Kakashi answered. "A mission is an absolute. It is the law. It must be completed, regardless of the circumstances, even if it requires sacrificing one's own life."
"Excellent," Kei smiled warmly. "Since that is your fundamental belief, Kakashi, this next step will be incredibly simple."
Kei reached into his coat, retrieving the sealed parchment scroll Hiruzen had given him, and held it out. "For the foreseeable future, please ensure you cooperate with me to the fullest extent, so that we may complete our mission."
Kakashi snatched the scroll. He broke the Hokage's seal and scanned the mandate. As his eye darted over the ink, his jaw locked, and the muscles in his neck pulled taut.
"I already told you," Kakashi ground out through gritted teeth, crushing the parchment in his fist. "I am not sick! I do not need psychiatric therapy!"
"I hear your frustration, and I respect your personal assessment," Kei replied, unbothered. "But, Kakashi... this is a direct, class-A mission mandate issued by Lord Third."
Kei tilted his head, perfectly weaponizing the captain's own dogma. "Did you not just state that to you, a mission is an absolute law that must be completed?"
"That was before I knew you were talking about forcing me into an interrogation room!"
"Is there truly a distinction?" Kei asked, his tone laced with mild, mocking curiosity. "Regardless of the specific operational parameters, is a mission not just a mission? Or do you arbitrarily pick and choose which of the Hokage's orders you obey based on your personal comfort?"
Kakashi took a sharp, deep breath. A sudden, violent surge of nameless anger welled up inside his chest, but he had absolutely nowhere to direct it. He had been flawlessly cornered.
"You set that up deliberately, didn't you?" Kakashi hissed. "Fine. Speak. Let's hear what brilliant nonsense the village's new 'master of the mind' has to offer."
Kei's serene smile remained fixed. "It is not about what I have to say, Kakashi. It is about what you are so desperately afraid of."
Kakashi's entire body went rigid. He glared at the blind man, his single eye searching Kei's bandaged face as if trying to discern how deep the doctor could see.
"When a man is terrified of his own reality," Kei continued, his voice dropping to a smooth, hypnotic cadence, "he will often construct a mask. It allows him the fleeting, pathetic illusion that he can hide from his fears."
"I am not afraid of anything," Kakashi snapped, the icy detachment finally fracturing. "I have always been exactly who I am. I am not hiding behind anything."
"I warn you, Hyuga," Kakashi stepped forward, his killing intent spiking. "Do not attempt to play your mind games with me. I will not fall for them."
"I am merely making an observation," Kei deflected smoothly. "If you are truly devoid of fear, why are you reacting with such explosive agitation?"
Kei gestured toward the crumpled scroll in Kakashi's fist. "You possess the free will to refuse my cooperation. If you walk away, I will simply report to the Hokage Tower and declare the mission a failure. Tell me, Kakashi... are you willing to fail Lord Third's mission?"
Kakashi felt a vicious headache throbbing behind his temples. The blind doctor had woven a psychological snare from the very first syllable, and Kakashi had marched blindly into the center of it. He was trapped in an impossible paradox.
If he refused to cooperate, he would be deliberately abandoning a direct order from the Hokage—a catastrophic violation of his core identity as a shinobi. Ever since Obito's death, he had sworn upon his soul that he would never, ever abandon a mission again.
Yet, if he yielded and cooperated, he would be indirectly admitting that his mind was fractured, and acknowledging the very trauma he spent every waking second trying to suppress.
Faced with the excruciating dilemma, Kakashi's shoulders finally dropped a fraction. "Since you are so arrogantly convinced I am afraid of something... let us operate under that assumption."
"It is not an assumption; it is a clinical fact," Kei corrected. "You truly believe that by pretending the rot doesn't exist, the rest of the world won't smell it, don't you?"
"That strategy is the absolute worst approach you could take," Kei pressed. "I am well aware that your defensive walls are currently too high for you to absorb anything I say. But that is perfectly fine. We have plenty of time."
Kakashi had never encountered an individual he found so instantly, profoundly infuriating. The man was using his deepest traumas and his sacred duty to the Hokage as leverage, leaving him completely suffocated.
"If you just want to waste my time, then get on with it," Kakashi crossed his arms over his flak jacket, radiating hostility. "Let's see what kind of miracle cure you can conjure."
"You have been terrified of executing your duties, haven't you?" Kei stated.
"How could I possibly be afraid of executing missions?" Kakashi scoffed bitterly. "I am an ANBU captain. There is a limit to your clinical delusions."
"Is there?" Kei challenged. "If you were truly unafraid of the field, why have you fought so violently against engaging with me?"
Kei took a slow step closer. "I am merely a civilian psychologist, Kakashi. Not an S-rank threat."
Kakashi instinctively took a half-step back, maintaining the exact distance between them. "I simply dislike you. Everyone has people they find inherently grating. It is a natural human response."
"No. You do not dislike me," Kei diagnosed with absolute certainty. "I recently treated a young man whose pathology was remarkably similar to yours. He buried his terror of the future deep in his chest, believing he could resolve his crises through sheer avoidance."
"Do you know the result of that strategy?" Kei asked, the ghost of Shisui Uchiha lingering heavily in his words. "He didn't solve anything. He only accelerated the decay. In the end, he paid a horrific price for his cowardice."
Kakashi stared at the blind doctor. Kei 'stared' back. The silence in the cemetery was absolute.
Finally, Kakashi took a slow, measured breath, surrendering to the trap. "Just tell me your terms. What exactly will it take for you to sign that scroll and leave me in peace?"
"It is not a matter of me leaving you in peace. It is a matter of whether you can ever find peace with yourself," Kei replied. "But I will offer you a compromise. For a man so fiercely committed to the absolute integrity of a mission... are you truly willing to cheat and fake your way through this one?"
Kakashi said nothing.
"Here is the parameter," Kei proposed, his voice perfectly businesslike. "I will not force you to speak. But for the duration of this assignment, you must strictly follow my operational arrangements. If you obey my schedule, then when the designated period expires, I will formally report to Lord Third that your psychological state is flawless—regardless of whether you are still as broken as you are right now."
Kakashi weighed the tactical options. It was a clear exit strategy. "Deal."
"Excellent. Then I will see you tomorrow morning," Kei said, turning on his heel. "Remember to pack your travel gear. We will be leaving the village for an extended excursion."
Without waiting for a response, Kei began walking down the gravel path, his cane tapping a steady, victorious rhythm.
Kakashi stood before the gravestone, motionless. He watched the doctor disappear beyond the cemetery gates. A long minute passed in the quiet chill of the afternoon.
And then, a sickening realization washed over the ANBU captain.
He had just been spectacularly outmaneuvered. He had explicitly refused to undergo psychological therapy. But in his desperation to find a loophole, he had formally agreed to obey all of Kei's 'operational arrangements' for an unspecified period of time.
If he was contractually bound to obey the doctor's schedule and accompany him on a targeted excursion... hadn't he just agreed to undergo intensive, immersive psychological therapy?
Kakashi's fists clenched so tightly his leather gloves creaked. A surge of indignation flared in his chest; he wanted nothing more than to chase the doctor down and demand a renegotiation. But Kei was already gone.
A sudden gust of wind swept through the cemetery. On the gravestone in front of him, the white lilies Kei had placed rustled softly against the stone.
Staring down at the pristine petals, Kakashi couldn't shake the distinct, infuriating feeling that the flowers were mocking him.