Kakashi kept running, following the lead of Bisuke, who had found a hole in the net his opponents' were tightening around him.
...
He ran quickly over a river, his feet not making a sound over the water as he manipulated it in order to skate forward, faster than he could have done on dry land before remaining on the same side of the course of water, throwing off his pursuers.
Not only they were all Heir from the prominent clans, each entitled to the deepest secrets and techniques that not many others had every even attempted, but they had also grown up together, their interaction observed and carefully managed in their infancy, either with the blessing of their parents or working around the clan heads.
There was no animosity, no secret hates. Inuzuka, Yamanaka, Nara, Hyuga, Aburame, Akimichi, each undoubtedly loyal to the village, eventually to be railroaded to become a join, while his own team ... Naruto.
With so much raw potential that he would undoubtedly fall into S-rank eventually, Sasuke, who had managed to grow out, if tentatively, of the trauma that his brother had inflicted upon him.
And Sakura, who... well, Kakashi had never invested too much in the civilian girl, she was book-smart, and had so little chakra that if trained she could become a fine medic-nin, but there was nothing else about her that screamed 'promise'.
Kakashi knew that he had numerous people attacking him, there was just no way that he could let himself be trapped unless the enemy enjoyed an overwhelming numeric advantage.
Along with the class of heirs, there had been Daiki. Extravagant, Business-man, Writer... Original. He had truly blossomed under Gai's tutelage.
He would have been one of the hidden blades along with his team, cutting through swathes of nuke-nin and keeping up the illusion of Konoha's strength just like Kakashi had done before flaunting his fame turned out to be more useful than applying his talents.
Bisuke tore through a couple of chunin, faster than they could react: the third man of the cell was a seasoned jonin however, and so his senses picked up on Kakashi presence an instant before his tanto could cut his jugular.
A hectic exchange immediately followed, sidestep, punch, backslap, cartwheel, and wire tightened around Kakashi's opponent's neck. A twitch of the wrist and the ninja-wire acted as a garrote, removing the obstacle.
Then the tragedy, the death of his teammate, that Kakashi had witnessed, should have incensed the kid, the scary kid that had learned the Kage-bunshin after being shown only once, the one that killed a Junchuriki before hitting 18 years of age.
Instead, he grabbed the occasion of distancing himself from Konoha and serve at the Daimo's court, learning among the best of the country. That had been accepted from the Hokage and the council with appreciative nods.
It made sense that he wished for distance, and being trained outside would bring fresh knowledge in Konoha, maybe nurture his originality.
When he had returned, Kakashi had not been impressed. The Hokage pit them one against another in order to see what kind of asset the upstart was, and Kakashi, for the first time in a long while, had been confused.
The young man behaved like he knew a joke that only he was privy to. But there was no proof whatsoever about betrayal or even disloyalty, the only quirk had been his absolute refusal of having a Yamanaka in his head, which admittedly, could sare shitless everyone.
That had raised more than a few eyebrows, but the Hokage had preferred nurture the sapling with trust instead of putting it under a microscope, even if obviously Daiki had been followed constantly.
Daiki's tentative bond with the Last Uchiha had been something that helped to still the Hokage's hand, in hindsight, Kakashi could see it: how would have Sasuke reacted if the only one he started to open up with suddenly died?
Even framing it on Kumo would have simply exacerbated the Uchiha' sociopath tendencies, not tightening the Village's hold on his loyalty one bit.
Kakashi never stopped, his body falling into the lull he had trained himself for in order to keep his mind fresh for battle, a subtle pulse of chakra later, he directed himself towards Pakkun, who was keeping open a narrow passage between enemy squads with a combination of sudden appearances and aborted attacks.
Slowly, as he ran, he returned to his musings. The quirky and generally aloof Daiki had proven his worth by revealing that he was a Sage. A Sage, like Jiraya-sama, one that could fight Orochimaru without a plan or preparation and force him to retreat, and that had proved that the Saindaime had been wise in his choices regarding Daiki.
Then it came the betrayal from Suna, coupled with Iwa's own predictable attempt to stir trouble. Everything engineered by Orochimaru, who had made open use of his knowledge of the territory in order to smuggle across the trees a whole army.
They failed, and failed badly, not managing to destroy Konoha, which had endured, like it always did.
So close, they had been so close to the transition between managing an image of power and actually having that power.
Daiki, one of the 3 S-rank among Konoha' ranks, along with two of the sannin (since nobody actually believed that Tsunade was off the rooster), was going to be the last step before Naruto's generation came through with their blood's promise, showing the world the might of Konoha' clans and bloodlines.
Gone with Orochimaru, who had simulated his own death so many times that nobody truly believed his demise to be permanent. Daiki, aloof and dangerous Daiki, who the higher-ups suspected had engineered his own death, getting out clean from shinobi life.
Sandaime-sama crippled in his deathbed, age finally catching up during his last clash against Onoki, who paid with his life for his failed attempt on Konoha's life.
That combination of events had nevertheless bought them time. Konoha was still powerful. The counter-intelligence had subtly confirmed that Konoha hadn't needed the Kyubi to win, that Konohagakure no Sato still had Senju Tsunade and the Toad Sage Jiraya, while the other Villages had at most two S-rank in their numbers.
Iwa needed a few weeks to figure out what to do, knowing that Konoha couldn't ignore their last insult. Onoki's grandaughter was promising, but too young and inexperienced to take his place, so her father had taken up the mantle as Yondaime Tsuchikage instead
Kumo had been grateful to not have been dragged in that particular shitfest. Keeping their remaining Jinchuriki near their Kage,
Kiri was a mess, their own spies confirmed that there was something more than simple unrest going on there.
Suna got gutted, there was no other way to properly put it, and Danzo quickly got it under control, securing one border and pacing Konoha in an optimal position in order to deal with Kiri.
A twinge on Kakashi chakra informed him that Pakkun had dismissed himself, and the Copy-nin turned sharply left, following the coded messages that his summons were transmitting through chakra pulses, too subtle and exact to be picked up by anyone lacking the connection created by a Summon contract.
In the following sixteen seconds, all of his summonses got wounded heavily enough to be dismissed.
Twenty seconds after Pakkun's disappearance, Kakashi broke out from the umpteenth outcropping of trees, only to stop when a fucking platoon of Iwa-nin surrounded him.
At least fifty chunin strong, there was at least a single three-man team made of join on the forefront of the small army that had trapped him. All in all, he briefly felt honoured that Iwa would deploy such a force only for little him.
Shit. The thought was discarded as it formed, one hand immediately lifting his headband, freeing Obito's eye, which shone maliciously in the grim weather.
The Copy-nin snarled quietly, his teeth bared under his mask, while he started to mo...
They died.
Blunt force trauma so strong their organs collapsed, their bones splintered, the shards rocketing through their bodies only to harm their peers.
They died quickly.
The damage inflicted so vast, that their brains went in shock from the pain, spines tore apart, throats slashed open, skulls crushed in impossibly strong hands.
They died suddenly.
They drowned on dry land. when the river rose like an angry god, globs of water clung to the nostrils and mouths, instilling panic during those last minutes of apnea the trained ninja were capable of facing.
They seized in a second of agony before death freed them from the pain inflicted by the flash boiled flesh, as a swathe of white fire scorched the ground around Kakashi.
Instead of dying, those with enough wit to figure out a countermeasure saw their limbs turn into ash under white waves of fire, and while they were reeling from the pain, the cold bite of metal found its mark, striking with unerring precision vital organs.
They cried in despair while the ground split open to devour them, their techniques, chakra and will not remotely strong enough to oppose the Sage.
They died in droves, they died alone, they turned to run only to stumble upon a comrade busy retreating, before being used as a target by squads of brothers and sisters who lived in a genjutsu they couldn't dispel.
The chunin represented the greatest part of the army, and they were ants challenging an active volcano, leaves daring the sky to strike them down.
The jonin reacted better, but while they managed to recognize a blur of something tearing through their ranks, they simply could not keep up.
The few genin that had been drafted to the front in order to be tested in the war were running without direction, attempting to help, or just survive, but they either were lucky, or they just disappeared, trampled upon by the reason why the army had been stopped.
At the end of the day, it didn't really matter, they died. Broken. Shredded. Tore apart. Splattered. Erased.
Kakashi ducked and weaved across the battlefield, making use of the extensive properties of the Sharingan coupled with his vast experience in order to not get caught in the crossfire, observing a familiar presence as it crushed the opponent that had been hounding the Copy-nin for two days straight.
...
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