Silver-white long hair, a black cloth mask, and the Konoha headband covering his left eye.
This… is this Hātake Kakáshi?
In the dead of night, a thin teenager stared into the mirror, utterly shocked.
"What happened? How did I become Kakáshi?" he muttered, his face reflecting his disbelief.
A sudden wave of memories surged through him, causing the boy to groan before collapsing.
When he finally woke up, his head still throbbed painfully. Shaking it to clear his thoughts, he climbed to his feet and slumped onto the floor.
Taking in the surroundings—a traditional Japanese-style bedroom—he couldn't help but flash a bitter smile.
Peering out the window, the boy sighed softly.
The attack of the Nine Tails...
The death of lord Fourth...
And the loss of his last teammates, Obito and Rin.
This was the world of Naruto, and somehow, he had become Hātake Kakáshi—a man whose life was filled with tragedy.
First, he lost his father. Then his best friend, Obito. He had even been forced to kill his other friend, Rin. Now, he had just lost his teacher, Minato.
Perhaps it was the overwhelming emotional turmoil that allowed this soul from Earth to inhabit Kakáshi's body. But Kakáshi's soul hadn't dissipated—it had merged with this foreign soul, causing the boy to faint upon their fusion.
Raking a hand through his silver-white hair, Kakáshi looked at his reflection in the mirror, releasing a deep sigh. "At least I'm still okay," he murmured.
The moon hung high in the sky, casting a tranquil glow over Konoha. It was the first night after the Nine Tails' attack. Silence enveloped the village; both villagers and shinobi were utterly drained.
Only essential patrols remained awake, while the rest sought refuge in sleep.
Tomorrow would be the funeral for the deceased, including Kakáshi's teacher, the youngest Hokage in Konoha's history, Nami-kaze Minato.
Perhaps due to the lingering consciousness of the original Kakáshi, the boy felt a heavy weight pressing on his heart. Sighing once more, he stood up and moved to his bed, sitting down with a distant look in his eyes.
Konoha's "Copy Ninja," Kakáshi of the Sharingan... While his abilities in the early days were formidable, his contributions during the later stages—especially the Fourth Great Ninja War—were minimal. Aside from his battle against Obito, most of his actions seemed inconsequential.
It wasn't until he received Obito's other Sharingan that he could truly assist in the end.
Kakáshi had even died once, having exhausted his chakra during the battle against Pain. If not for Naruto convincing Nagato to use the Outer Path: Samsara of Heavenly Life Technique, Kakáshi wouldn't have survived.
Yet Kakáshi was once hailed as a genius. At the age of 12, he had become a Jōnin, the youngest in Konoha's history. But his achievements plateaued, leaving him far behind characters like Naruto and Sasuke, whose power growth between the ages of 13 and 16 was nothing short of terrifying.
Reflecting on this, Kakáshi realised it was the tragedies in his life that had stunted his growth during his prime years. While Naruto and Sasuke reached Kage-level strength and beyond, Kakáshi's progress stagnated. By the time he tried to push himself, it was too late for any significant leaps in power.
Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he clenched his fist. Seventeen years… he mused. Seventeen years until the final battle against Kaguya. I need to make every moment count.
Kakáshi's current strength as a Jōnin was solid—his expertise in taijutsu, genjutsu, and ninjutsu made him a well-rounded shinobi. But he knew his true potential was hindered by his Sharingan.
While others believed his strength came from the Sharingan, Kakáshi knew it was also his greatest limitation.
Unlike an Uchiha, he couldn't deactivate the eye, which continuously drained his chakra. The strain intensified whenever he used it in combat, damaging his body and forcing him to collapse from exhaustion.
Without the Sharingan, Kakáshi's chakra reserves could rival those of the Sandaime Hokage. Official data even suggested their reserves were similar. Yet the Sharingan's constant drain severely limited him.
Touching his left eye, Kakáshi could feel the subtle heat emanating from the Sharingan, a constant reminder of its ever-present consumption of his chakra.
He lifted his forehead protector, revealing the scar running through his eyelid. His crimson eye gleamed, its three tomoe spinning lazily.
This was the Sharingan, one of the three great dōjutsu of the Naruto world.
But for someone not born into the Uchiha clan, it came at a cost. Kakáshi's body paid the price with every use.
If I want to develop my strength, I must address these limitations, Kakáshi thought. First, I need to overcome the Sharingan's restrictions. Then, I need to expand my chakra reserves.
He gently caressed his left eye once more, determination flickering in his gaze. Seventeen years is a long time, but I can't waste any of it.