Konoha’s Five-Element Ninja

Chapter 59: First Snow

At dawn, before the sun had even risen, Hayama woke up early. He lay on the ground for a couple of minutes, allowing the remnants of sleep to fade completely, then slowly sat up.

It was still early, so Hayama didn't wake Yamashiro Tatsun. Instead, he quietly left the room and stepped out onto the street, stretching his limbs to shake off any stiffness. Feeling refreshed and energized, he was satisfied—though he hadn't slept long, it had been deep and restful enough to restore his stamina.

Stopping by a street vendor, he bought breakfast for two before returning home. By then, Yamashiro Tatsun was already awake, sitting in the living room, refining his chakra.

"Tatsun, breakfast."

Hayama called out as he unwrapped his food and started eating without waiting for a response. Since they were about to head out on a mission, he ate until he was about eighty percent full, ensuring he had enough energy for the day ahead.

After breakfast, the sky was still dark. Konoha's winters had late sunrises—it wouldn't be fully bright until around six-thirty.

Meanwhile, at the Hatake clan compound, movement could be seen outside the gates.

The large vermilion-colored gates, worn with age, creaked as they were pushed open from within. The waiting ninjas, who had been sitting still all night, immediately stood at attention, forming neat rows as they focused their gazes on the entrance—awaiting their leader's appearance.

A small foot stepped over the high threshold first—it was the young Kakashi Hatake. Behind him, Sakumo Hatake followed closely, his expression gentle as he looked at his son.

Kakashi hesitated as he took in the sight of the battle-hardened ninjas standing outside, their presence exuding an iron-blooded aura. He instinctively shrank back, glancing at his father in confusion.

Sakumo simply smiled and reached out, taking Kakashi's hand as they stepped forward together.

Step. Step.

The rhythmic sound of Sakumo's footsteps struck the ears of the assembled warriors like a war drum, sending an electric charge through their bodies.

Though many years had passed since they had last stood on the battlefield together, those years of peace—filled with mundane life and trivial responsibilities—had dulled their fighting instincts. But now, as they watched Sakumo walk before them, those memories surged back as vividly as if they had been yesterday.

Sakumo stopped at the top of the steps, silently gazing down at his comrades.

He said nothing.

Yet, his presence alone was enough.

Kakashi, wide-eyed, looked at the silent, yet visibly excited faces of the assembled warriors, struggling to understand what was happening.

He could not yet comprehend the weight of his father's name.

But the others did.

To them, Sakumo Hatake was not just a man—he was a legend.

As the adrenaline in their veins reached its peak, the kneeling warriors dropped to one knee in perfect unison, bowing their heads.

"We await your command, my lord!"

The deep voices of the warriors echoed through the silent street, startling a few stray cats, who darted away in panic.

Sakumo, ever a man of few words, simply patted Kakashi's head before tying his forehead protector onto his head once more.

A sharp, oppressive aura of killing intent erupted from his body, pressing down on his gathered forces.

"Move out!"

In a blink, the warriors vanished—leaving the Hatake clan compound empty once more.

Hidden in the shadows, a few Root ninjas—who had been suppressing their chakra while spying—instinctively wiped the sweat from their brows.

After exchanging a brief look, they immediately disappeared, heading off to report back to their master.

At the Konoha gates, Hayama stood leaning against a barren tree, gazing at the dull, overcast sky.

Suddenly, Uchiha Fugaku's Sharingan spun to life as he flicked his wrist, hurling several kunai into the shadows.

"Enough lurking, rats. Come out."

Hayama tilted his head slightly but remained still. Meanwhile, several Uchiha ninjas smirked as they vanished in an instant.

The clash of steel rang out briefly before several figures were dragged out like lifeless corpses and tossed onto the ground—Root operatives, now unconscious.

Fugaku scoffed and kicked away one of their masks, glancing at the man's face before spitting in disgust.

"Danzo's dogs."

"Brother, should we…?" Uchiha Seiji trailed off, dragging a finger across his throat in a clear gesture.

"Disabling them is enough." Fugaku replied indifferently.

Without hesitation, Uchiha Seiji crouched down and swiftly sliced through their tendons with a kunai, ensuring they would never wield weapons again.

Hayama, meanwhile, remained silent, still watching the sky as if nothing had happened.

After all, what were a few Root operatives?

If anything, leaving them alive was already an act of generosity.

Just as Hayama was about to shift his stiff neck, a massive surge of chakra approached from the distance.

The entire group immediately straightened up, discarding their relaxed postures as they turned toward the approaching figures.

Before long, Sakumo Hatake arrived, standing before them with hundreds of battle-ready ninjas at his back.

Uchiha Fugaku stepped forward and bowed respectfully.

"Uchiha Fugaku, reporting for duty. My squad requests permission to join the mission."

Sakumo hesitated. He had originally not wanted the Uchiha involved, but Fugaku had worded his request carefully—he was speaking as a Konoha ninja, not as a representative of the Uchiha clan.

With no grounds to refuse, Sakumo simply let out a neutral "Hmm." before walking past them toward the gates.

Koshi Kakuro glanced at Hayama, his gaze complicated, but he said nothing. Instead, he simply raised a hand and motioned for his team to move out, following Sakumo.

As the last of the squads exited the village, Fugaku cast one final glance toward the Uchiha compound before disappearing in a flicker of movement.

Hayama exhaled sharply, about to activate his own Shunshin no Jutsu, when he suddenly felt something cold against his cheek.

He looked up—it was snowing.

Tiny flakes drifted down, melting as soon as they touched the ground, leaving only faint traces of moisture behind.

It reminded him of a ninja's life—brilliant yet fleeting, gone before the world could truly acknowledge its beauty.

For some reason, despite having looked forward to the first snowfall, Hayama felt no joy—only a heavy sense of unease.

Extending his hand, he watched as a single snowflake landed in his palm, only to vanish instantly.

He pressed his lips together, took one last, long look at the bustling village behind him, then clenched his fist tightly.

The veins on his hand bulged as chakra surged beneath his skin, and in the next instant, he vanished from sight, following the others beyond the village walls.

The first snow of Year 42 in the Konoha Calendar had arrived earlier than usual.

And on this very day, Hayama once again stepped onto the path of bloodshed—not for glory, not for power, but for a mission he cared nothing about, to retrieve civilians who meant nothing to him.

The road ahead was uncertain.

And no one knew how many of the warriors marching forward today would return to Konoha to drink warm tea again, watching the snow quietly blanket the village.

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You can read advance chapters ahead on patreon.com/fishkiss69, I will upload 1 extra chapter every day there.

THANK YOU

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