Konoha’s Five-Element Ninja

Chapter 70: Night Talk

Under the dark night sky, the Hatake Clan compound lay hidden like a legendary blade within its sheath. Any force that coveted it had to consider whether they could withstand its edge. The Hatake Clan had never been particularly prominent in Konoha's history, always ranking as a mid-tier ninja family. However, with Sakumo Hatake's rise, the clan's reputation had finally spread throughout the ninja world.

As long as Sakumo was alive, the Hatake Clan would remain a renowned force within the village, even if they lacked numbers. Moreover, Hayama had observed that Sakumo's son, Kakashi, was a rare genius. Given time, he would undoubtedly inherit his father's name and shake the ninja world. More importantly, Hayama knew Kakashi was one of the few true protagonists in the original timeline. His future success in Konoha was assured. That was why Hayama had unhesitatingly stepped in to help him the other day. Otherwise, he would have only crippled the Root operatives rather than outright killing them—standing out too much wasn't his style.

As Hayama crouched in the shadows, silently observing the Hatake residence, a hand suddenly emerged from the darkness and patted his shoulder.

His body tensed instantly. His seemingly idle hands resting on his knees became a blur. In a split second, his right hand reached for a kunai, stabbing backward, while his left hand gathered an immense amount of fire chakra, ready to detonate and create an escape route.

"It's me."

A calm voice made Hayama halt his attack. His face twitched slightly before he quietly dissipated the gathered chakra into the air.

"Lord Sakumo, that was a terrible joke," Hayama said helplessly.

Though he wasn't a sensory-type ninja, very few in Konoha could get so close to him undetected. Years of battlefield experience had honed his ability to sense subtle air fluctuations and chakra signatures. If he hadn't developed that awareness, he would have died long ago.

Sakumo, dressed in his clan's white robes, gave a rare smirk. "Your vigilance is too low. But at least your reaction time is still sharp. You haven't been slacking off."

Hayama stood up, looking at the taller man before him. For the first time, he noticed the exhaustion written across Sakumo's face. It wasn't the fatigue of constant high-intensity missions—it was the weariness of the soul. His once sharp gaze had lost its edge, now dull and lifeless.

"Why did you ask me here tonight? If you need help, a simple message would have sufficed."

Sakumo shook his head without answering. Instead, he pointed towards his residence before vanishing in an instant.

Hayama pursed his lips, hesitated for a moment, then used the Body Flicker Technique to follow him inside.

From the outside, the Hatake compound appeared clean and orderly. But once inside, Hayama noticed that many areas were overgrown with weeds, and cracks lined the walls, giving the place an air of desolation.

Noticing Hayama's gaze, Sakumo looked around and spoke in a detached tone. "When I was a child, this place was full of life. The rooms were cramped because there were so many people. But over time, fewer and fewer remained. Now, only my branch of the family is left."

Hayama remained silent. He knew why the Hatake Clan had dwindled—why so many mid-tier clans had declined. The answer was simple: war.

Decades of conflict had devastated not only civilian ninja families but also small and mid-sized clans, some of which were wiped out entirely. If Sakumo had not emerged as a once-in-a-generation talent, the Hatake name might have already faded into obscurity.

What had they gained from all this war? Hayama couldn't understand. War should be fought for conquest and resources. But what was the purpose of these endless battles with no tangible rewards?

Sakumo, seeing Hayama's lack of response, lost interest in reminiscing. He stepped into a relatively well-maintained room on the left.

Once they were seated, a small figure approached them, carefully carrying a tray of tea and snacks—Kakashi.

"Kakashi, stay here. Watch and listen, but do not speak."

Sakumo's firm tone halted Kakashi, who had been about to leave. The boy looked uneasy, sensing something unusual in his father's voice.

Noticing this, Hayama shifted slightly and gestured for Kakashi to sit beside him. Then, he turned his attention back to Sakumo. "So, why did you call me here tonight?"

Sakumo didn't answer immediately. Instead, he held his teacup, staring into it as if deep in thought. After a long pause, he finally spoke.

"Do you hate me?"

Hayama blinked, momentarily caught off guard. He was about to reflexively say "no", but Sakumo's sharp, hawk-like gaze made him reconsider his words carefully.

"Saying I don't hate you would be self-deception. But it's not exactly hatred—just… frustration, I suppose."

"Frustrated that I was stubborn?" Sakumo asked.

Hayama shook his head. He removed his Konoha forehead protector and placed it on the table. "Everyone has their own convictions. I'm no different. I was just frustrated that you never looked out for me."

He was telling the truth. During the many months he had spent stranded at the Fire Country's border, he had desperately hoped Sakumo would extend a helping hand. But in the end, it was the Uchiha who had rescued him. It was only natural that he held some resentment toward Sakumo for that.

Sakumo nodded, his piercing gaze softening. "Aligning yourself with the Uchiha was your best choice. Following them is far better than following me."

Then, after a brief pause, he added, "Do you know why I called you here?"

"No."

"Because I intend to take my own life."

The words were spoken in a calm, almost indifferent tone. But their weight was enough to shake the entire ninja world.

Hayama, caught off guard, clenched his fist so tightly that the teacup in his hand shattered. Kakashi, still young and naive, didn't even process his father's words at first. But when realization struck, he abandoned all restraint. Scrambling across the floor, he grabbed onto Sakumo's leg.

"Don't leave me, Father!"

The desperation in Kakashi's childish voice briefly flickered across Sakumo's face, but the moment of hesitation was quickly replaced by steely resolve. He gently pushed his son away.

"Kakashi, no one can stay by your side forever. As time passes, you must learn to grow on your own."

With that, he knocked Kakashi unconscious. An elderly servant swiftly carried the boy out of the room.

Hayama's voice was ice-cold. "Why?"

"The Fire Country needs an explanation. The daimyo needs an explanation. The village needs an explanation. So, I'll give them one. That's all."

Sakumo spoke as if he were merely discussing what to eat tomorrow.

"Bang!"

Hayama slammed his palm against the table, shattering it into splinters. A burst of fire chakra incinerated the wreckage.

"This is the act of a coward! If you have the guts, go to the Hokage's office and give them your so-called 'explanation' yourself!"

What a joke. Sakumo's so-called mistake was nothing more than a mission mishap—one that resulted in more casualties than expected. At most, he should step down as ANBU Commander as a symbolic punishment. Suicide was ridiculous.

Ninjas were tools of war, but they still had emotions and free will. Civilian casualties in dangerous missions were inevitable. If strict accountability were applied, then the Legendary Sannin, who had indirectly caused countless deaths in the Rain Country, should all be forced to commit suicide too.

"This is utter bullshit! You think dying will fix anything? The only ones who'll be happy about this are Hiruzen Sarutobi and his cronies!"

Overcome with fury, Hayama trashed the room, hurling anything he could grab. Seeing Sakumo calmly sipping tea as if nothing was wrong only enraged him further. He snatched the cup from Sakumo's hand and crushed it.

A shard cut into his palm, blood dripping onto Sakumo's pristine white socks.

"Hayama, let's talk rationally. There's no need to get so worked up."

Taking deep breaths to calm himself, Hayama sat down beside Sakumo, staring at the overgrown garden.

"Fine. Talk. But don't expect me to listen to your bullshit."

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