The Hatake Clan wasn't well-known in the early days of Konoha. With a small population and no prestigious bloodline, they weren't even counted among the great clans. In the eyes of many, they were just another obscure family.
But that would change.
One man—Hatake Sakumo—would alter the destiny of the entire clan.
Known as the White Fang of Konoha, Sakumo's mastery of swordsmanship would earn him fame that rivaled the Legendary Sannin. With a single blade, he carved a reputation across the shinobi world. His name carried fear on the battlefield.
But even the strongest warriors fall to invisible blades—whispers, rumors, betrayal.
The shadows of Root, the secret faction operating under Danzo's control, painted Sakumo as a threat. Add to that the silent nod from the Third Hokage… and Sakumo's honor was destroyed.
He took his own life under the weight of guilt and disgrace.
And from the ashes of that tragedy, his son, Hatake Kakashi, rose like a storm.
Graduated from the academy at five.
Promoted to Chūnin at six.
Jōnin by the time he was twelve.
Both father and son were geniuses—undeniable, unrelenting, and brilliant. But both were also haunted.
And now, standing in the earliest years of the Leaf's formation, Hoshino Kaede looked at Hatake Isshin, Sakumo's father, with subtle empathy.
He knew the future. He knew how it would unfold.
But the man in front of him… was still hopeful.
Still whole.
"People talk more when they're older, huh? Sorry if I'm boring you," Isshin chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck.
Kaede shook his head. "Not at all, Uncle. I like listening."
They shared a quiet moment in the sunlight.
Then Kaede tilted his head. "Uncle, can you forge ninja swords?"
Isshin raised an eyebrow. "Of course I can. You need one for your family?"
"Nope," Kaede said seriously. "I want one for myself."
Isshin blinked, then frowned. "You're just a kid. Ninja swords aren't toys. They're dangerous. One wrong swing—"
"I've already extracted Chakra," Kaede interrupted, putting on his most sincere face. "And my family approved."
(Technically half true. His father knew. His mother… would probably scold them both into next week.)
Isshin's eyes narrowed. He focused, silently sensing Kaede's chakra…
His expression shifted in an instant.
Elite Chūnin-level chakra. At age five.
He sucked in a quiet breath. "...You weren't lying."
Kaede smiled sweetly. "So, can I place an order?"
Isshin chuckled, clearly impressed. "Alright. Come back in a few days. I'll forge it myself. You've earned a 20% discount."
Kaede brightened. "Thanks!"
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a bundle of bills.
"I'm not sure if this is enough, but if not, I'll bring more next time."
Isshin took the money, counted quickly, and pushed some back.
"That's enough. The rest is a meeting gift."
Kaede frowned. "But that's not the full—"
"Take it," Isshin said with a firm smile. "Honest kids are rare."
Before Kaede could argue again, the older man turned and walked into his home.
Left with no choice, Kaede bowed deeply toward the door.
"THANK YOU, UNCLE ISSHIN!"
Inside, Isshin smiled as he heard the shout.
"A good kid," he murmured.
His wife approached, tilting her head. "You seem in a good mood. What happened? Not another gang of troublemakers?"
Isshin laughed. "No. Just a strange, funny little guy. I'll introduce you next time."
He looked toward the door, his expression thoughtful.
"I've got a feeling... our fates are more connected than they seem."
---
Elsewhere in the village…
Kaede wandered down a shaded path, humming a happy tune. His arms were full of snacks, his pockets a little lighter, and his heart completely satisfied.
He had custom-ordered a ninja sword from Hatake Sakumo's father.
He couldn't help but imagine it—the blade gleaming in the light, his figure cutting through wind and enemy alike. He grinned at the image of himself leaping through the air, katana drawn, cloak fluttering behind him.
"Cool. So cool. I'm definitely going to be cool."
He was so lost in his fantasy, he didn't see the man walking directly in front of him.
Bang!
Kaede bounced off the figure's chest and landed hard on his rear.
"Ow!"
He rubbed his backside, then looked up, already apologizing.
"Sorry! I was distracted—"
But the stranger cut him off with a sharp gaze.
"You're Hashirama's new apprentice, aren't you?"
His tone dripped with disdain.
Kaede paused, lips still open mid-apology. He looked up.
The man standing before him was tall, cloaked in traditional black armor. His long spiked hair framed a face of cold arrogance. His dark, burning eyes bore into Kaede as if trying to read his soul.
A chill ran down Kaede's spine.
"…Who are you?" he asked cautiously.
Something about this man screamed danger. Even without sensing chakra, Kaede could feel it—the weight of power pressing down on him. He hadn't recovered all his chakra from earlier. He wouldn't be able to activate his dojutsu if things went bad.
The man's lips curled.
"Good instincts. But you're slow. If I were an enemy, you'd already be dead."
His voice was harsh, his tone condescending. He didn't care that Kaede was a child. And yet… his words were honest.
"Konoha isn't as peaceful as it looks. Spies slip through the cracks. Enemies wait in the dark."
"You? You're not ready. Not even close."
As he spoke, his chakra flared.
Pressure slammed down like a mountain.
Kaede's breath caught.
His knees buckled. Sweat poured down his neck. The air turned frigid.
It felt like time itself froze, not from his power, but from the sheer force of presence this man exuded.
Kaede couldn't move.
Couldn't breathe.
But he didn't drop his gaze.
His eyes stayed locked. Defiant. Unshaken.
The man's eyes narrowed. There was a flicker of approval—but only for a second.
Then the pressure vanished.
Kaede collapsed to his knees, gasping for air, soaked in sweat.
"You're too weak. Right now, all you'd do is drag him down," the man said flatly, standing over him.
Kaede, teeth gritted, forced himself back up. He staggered, legs trembling—but his gaze didn't waver.
"No one starts strong. Everyone has to grow."
"I'll become stronger. Strong enough to stand beside my teacher. Strong enough to surpass him."
The man's eyes widened slightly. Then, a small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.
"You've got guts."
He stepped past Kaede, his voice fading as he walked away.
"I admire your confidence. I also hate it."
"But I'll wait and see."
Kaede turned and shouted after him.
"What's your name?! I'll remember it—I'll prove myself to you!"
The man paused.
Then, without turning back, he answered:
"My name… is Uchiha Madara!"
Kaede froze in place.
A cold wind swept past.
His heartbeat thundered in his ears.
Uchiha Madara.
The future rival of Hashirama. The co-founder of Konoha. The man who would plunge the world into war with a single gaze.
And Kaede had just vowed to surpass him.
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