Chapter 007 Kakashi’s Desire for Revenge

As noon approached, two figures moved swiftly, one after the other, leaping among branches and trunks as they hurried deeper into the Leaf Village forest. Leading the way was Kakashi, his face severe, expression numb, eyes as lifeless as if something within him had died.

After losing his father, his friend, and his love, Kakashi now mourned the loss of his master and mistress as well. Blow after blow had nearly broken him, leaving his spirit all but crushed.

Gai, deeply concerned about Kakashi’s current state, had forced him out into the forest for a competition. Normally, Kakashi would have refused such a meaningless contest, but now, he actually wanted a distraction.

Gai exhaled loudly, coming to a stop at the edge of a great lake, his legs half-sunken in the damp earth. He turned to face Kakashi, who had just arrived at his side, and offered a brilliant smile. “Thirty-eight wins and thirty-eight losses, Kakashi. Now we’re even again.”

Kakashi didn’t reply, only gasped for breath. Competing in speed against someone as obsessed with physical training as Gai allowed no room for relaxation; his body was nearly at its limit, sweat pouring from his pores and soaking his clothes.

Yet, gazing at the shimmering, tranquil lake, Kakashi felt a measure of relief, as if the heaviness in his heart had been excreted along with his sweat.

…If only the village could remain as peaceful as this lake, he thought.

Just as the thought crossed his mind, a sudden surge of water crashed into him, making him stumble.

“Wind? No, it’s ninjutsu!”

Kakashi instantly snapped to attention, taking a defensive stance and leaping onto a tree branch to conceal himself.

Gai landed beside him, placing a reassuring hand on Kakashi’s shoulder. “No need to be tense, Kakashi. It’s not an enemy—probably someone practicing ninjutsu.”

Hearing this, Kakashi realized something was off; the earlier wave had been too weak to be an attack.

Just as he was about to investigate, he glanced at Gai’s drenched clothing and paused. Gai’s clothes were soaked too, but clearly not by the lake.

Noticing Kakashi’s gaze, Gai grinned knowingly. “I didn’t expect you to get caught by that wave. It wasn’t even fast!”

Kakashi said nothing, leaping towards the lake. He didn’t mind losing to Gai, but what had just happened was embarrassing. Now, he wanted to find the person practicing ninjutsu and reclaim a bit of dignity through some petty revenge.

Kakashi was not usually one for such pettiness, but right now, he wanted to lose himself in that feeling. As for succeeding, he had no doubt—judging by the earlier technique, the person’s strength was mediocre at best, probably a Chunin.

“Kakashi, wait for me!”

Gai strode after him in great bounds. The source of the ninjutsu wasn’t far; soon, the two caught sight of the figure.

Kakashi stopped, eyes narrowing in surprise. “Orochimaru, it’s actually him.”

“Oh, Lord Orochimaru,” Gai said, puzzled. “He used that ninjutsu? But its power was so small…”

Gai’s question was Kakashi’s as well, but even Gai wasn’t foolish enough to charge out and ask directly. This was one of the Sannin, a great figure of the village.

Gai’s curiosity quickly faded, and he sighed. “If it’s Lord Orochimaru, then forget it—your revenge will have to wait. Let’s go.”

Kakashi held Gai back. “Let’s stay and watch.”

“Isn’t that inappropriate?”

“We won’t hide ourselves. If we’re discovered, we’ll just say it’s coincidence.”

“Well…alright then.”

As they spoke, Orochimaru’s ninjutsu never ceased, and sharp-eyed Kakashi soon noticed something unusual.

“The way he’s using that ninjutsu is textbook perfect.”

“Perfect? I don’t see it,” Gai said, eyes wide. “All I noticed is it’s not very powerful. Even Genin could use it.”

“You don’t understand. Orochimaru is showing off.”

Kakashi glanced at the puzzled Gai and explained, “He’s using the least chakra possible, yet drawing out the full power of the jutsu. That requires incredible mastery of ninjutsu and chakra control.”

With that, Kakashi turned his gaze back to Orochimaru. He himself could manage such precise technique, but only with jutsu he was deeply familiar with. For Orochimaru to perform so many techniques, so quickly—it was a testament to the Sannin’s legendary reputation.

“Oh, I see,” Gai replied, still confused. The Iron Fist style was famous for its speed and power, not fine chakra control; Gai, who barely used ninjutsu himself, couldn’t grasp Kakashi’s point.

He scratched his head. “Still, it’s nothing much to watch. Let’s go.”

“Alright,” Kakashi nodded. Mastery over ninjutsu and chakra control wasn’t something gained overnight; mere observation would achieve nothing.

Just then, Orochimaru stopped his display and used a summoning technique, drawing a sword from the mouth of a snake.

At a glance, Kakashi saw it was an exceptional blade, even finer than his own family’s treasured sword. He couldn’t help but halt in his tracks.

“Wait, let’s watch a little longer.”

…

“So this sword is called the Kusanagi Blade?”

The Djinn gently wiped the saliva from the blade’s surface, remarking, “A fine name, and a fine sword.”

“But you don’t seem satisfied with it,” Orochimaru observed. “You hold it, yet your mind is elsewhere, thinking of another sword.”

“Is it that obvious?” The Djinn nodded, admitting it. “In the last world, my host was a swordsman. I spent a long time with him, growing familiar with swords. Now, seeing a new blade, comparisons are inevitable.”

“Was his sword that remarkable?” Orochimaru was intrigued—another world, the Djinn’s former host. He pressed, hoping to glean more.

Instead of answering, the Djinn posed a question. “In the ninja world, what weapons do shinobi use?”

Without waiting for a reply, he continued, “Senbon, kunai, shuriken, short swords… there are many, many types.”

“But in the last world, those demon hunters had only swords.”

“They used swords to hunt demons whose physical prowess far surpassed their own.”

“Many times, when the sword broke, the hunter died.”

“So tell me, was that sword strong?”

Orochimaru was silent for a moment, then nodded. Weapons bound to one’s life must be strong—they had no other choice.

“That’s why you shouldn’t underestimate the swordsmanship I’m about to show you.”

The Djinn stood at the lakeside, sword in hand, gazing over the placid waters. “The last world belonged to swordsmen. They had no dazzling ninjutsu, no varied ninja tools—only swordsmanship elevated to its very peak.”

“I’ve always worried whether your body, so frail, could withstand the power of such swordsmanship.”

“Be prepared for serious injury.”