Chapter Text
Konoha is a brutal place. Konoha shinobi are ruthless and deadly, capable of taking down hundreds just in a blink of an eye. If you don’t watch out, you can become one of those hundreds, dead before even knowing what’s going on.
And so, Iwa has no place for a useless ninja. Especially not one of the Maitos, the Eternal Genin and his son who seems to be suffering the same fate. Gai knows, of course. He’s not so stupid as to not see the disdainful flashes of teeth, the looks of disgust that say a thousand words, the low-tone hisses that brandish itself like a curse. He doesn’t quite know what he did wrong, or what Papa did wrong. But, as always, Papa slaps his back, yelling out words that are even more deafening than the scoffs around them.
“This is what great stories are made of, Gai! An underdog whose hard work and youth helps him overcome all odds! Take those words as encouragement and motivation for you to move forward, my son!”
And, in response, those scoffs turn into laughter. “It’s a fool’s pipe dream,” they say, “the Eternal Genin and his loser son trying to make a name in the world? Not even when caught in a genjutsu can one believe that.”
There are talks in the village. There are always talks, of course, but it is uncommon when the Tsuchikage’s name is brought up with the Eternal Genin’s son.
Maito Gai has been accepted into the Academy. The last name on the list, but on the blackboard regardless, white chalk sealed with chakra ensuring the truthfulness of the announcement and not a joke.
“It’s a fool’s errand! Trying to turn him into something useful? He will spend the rest of his life chasing cats and loading manure on his back.”
To that, Onoki smiles. He can see something in that boy, the Will of Stone carved so visibly on the callouses of his palms, on the scars that run along his body like stitches on a twice-ripped doll. One does not simply become a Kage without an eye for people. The rest is up to Maito Gai, whether or not he can amount to anything at all.
488. 489. His vision is blurring. He can barely feel his arms anymore, going through the motion of pushing up mindlessly, body upheld through sheer will. It’s a self-rule. He has failed the Camouflage Jutsu yet again. Even the class doesn’t bother laughing at him anymore, most of them turning their heads the other way out of pity.
Sensei sighs, dismissing him with a wave of hand and the other hand on his forehead. “How are we going to catch up to Konoha? That damn White Fang… I heard he has a son, too. The son of an elite shinobi must be different from the son of the Eternal Genin.”
What encouragement! 490. 491. 492. There are elites born out of status, like the son of that White Fang that he’s heard of so many times. A shinobi who makes all of Iwa cower in fear, who makes Onoki declare a “withdrawal upon encountering” rule? His son must be something great, too. But Gai? He has made it his life mission to be an elite out of hard work. He will prove to everybody that the Maito isn’t just a name they can stomp on. He will carry the spirit of the Springtime of Youth that Papa instills in him, even if it means ripping his body to shreds.
494. 495. 496. Just a little bit more. He tries not to hear his own ragged breathing, mind filled instead with the expressions of disgust he knows like the back of his hand.
He’s three push-ups left until there’s one less laugh.
Only two more to move an inch closer to respect.
Just one and he’ll be stronger than yesterday.
500.
He collapses on the hard floor of the forest. Buzzing around him are cicadas, not the venomous scoffs of everyone in the village.
Once again, against all odds, Maito Gai makes Genin. Then, he becomes Chuunin, moving further than his Papa ever did.
Laughters from the village subside. They turn it all on his Papa instead.
“That loser… To be surpassed even by his own son…”
Gai needs to become stronger. He needs to be so strong that he can block out all the noises.
Lifting his arms up to shield his face from the sharp blast of the wind, Gai cannot quite believe it. For Papa to have something like this up his sleeve…
“Papa…” he calls out weakly, mesmerized by the green aura.
“As a genin, I practiced every day, and finally grasped this unique jutsu after twenty years.” His father’s voice vibrates through him like a ninjutsu. “To put it plainly, this is the one and only jutsu that I can pass on to you as your father.”
He can feel something rolling out of his eyes, onto his face. All of those nights when Papa snuck out of bed and into the woods, his exhaustion in the following mornings… Yet there was a time when Gai doubted his father’s youth.
“You have become a splendid shinobi. Yet I shall impose one strict condition upon the use of this technique.”
A condition?
“A self-rule!” Papa answers. Gai repeats the words slowly, to swallow the weight of such restriction.
“You can only use it to protect something precious enough to give your life for. I don’t want you to live a life fueled by hatred, but to be motivated by love. Do you understand me, Gai?”
This jutsu is an heirloom. He will stand by its sacred meaning with his life. This is his Papa’s most precious gift.
That same year, Maito Dai opens the Eighth Gate, taking out four of the Seven Swordsmen of the Mist.
Laughter subsides completely. They don’t remember Maito Dai at all.
It’s just another name engraved in stone, anyway.
The mission calls for an exhaustion of all of Iwa’s men. Capable or not, any shinobi ranked Chuunin and up are called to the frontline. People didn’t have time to care, anymore, that the Eternal Genin’s son is part of those shinobi now, too. They shove him in a squad with three other jonin, tasked with protecting Kannabi Bridge. It’s a vital lifeline for the entire village, a prey that Konoha and other villages have been waiting to tear down.
Gai resents war, if he’s capable of resenting anything at all. He understands his father now, after his passing, his generous soul and his ability to love despite all the hatred directed towards him. The moment Dai turned into dust, he understood. Nothing really mattered - not all of those acknowledgements that Gai so desperately wanted from the village. He just wanted his Papa to be there when he returned home. Gai just wanted to chase missing cats and lift manure for the rest of their lives if it meant he could see Papa go in old age and not shredding his body into ungatherable pieces.
Now, Gai just wants the war to end.
“Why are we stuck with this dobe, anyway? This is a mission that requires stealth and infiltration skills. The last time I checked, he could barely do the Camouflage Jutsu properly”, snarls one of the men on his team, sharp eyes of pure hatred brandish to Gai like a sharp knife. He can’t recall seeing the man anywhere, but his chakra signature is familiar. He is probably one of the thousands of faces that laughed at Gai and his father back then, standing in the crowd and looking at them like a circus show.
“Shut it, Kakko. This is a protection mission, after all. We need someone with brute strength, and we can actually afford to lose useless chuunins for the sake of the bridge,” responds another, his face drawn into an eternal frown.
Gai sits in silence, schooling his face into a neutral expression. He’s used to this - the endless taunting from people he’s willing to die for. He’s unsure if they will lay down their lives for his, but he will for them in a heartbeat. Gai is Papa’s son, and no amount of hatred can penetrate his heart before being overshadowed by his love for youth and forgiveness.
He is awoken in the crack of dawn by a hard slap in the face, opening his eyes to a glare sharper than the edge of a kunai. “Wake up, brat. It’s time for surveillance. It’s you and me.”
Gai gets up quickly, brushing wild weeds and grass off of his body to get rid of any odor. He doesn’t quite understand why he’s up for surveillance - they did say that stealth is not his strong suit. But he knows more than to doubt the captain’s order, especially on a mission where there’s little love among fellow shinobi and only cooperation and tolerance.
They end up walking around the area for hours, up until the sun reaches its peak.
“Get back!” Grunts his teammate in a whisper, one hand pointed towards the tall branches of a nearby tree. The air around them rings with suffocating suspension.
Gai tries to shrink himself behind a few leaves, holding in his breath. Despite being a chuunin, he has never been on such a high-stake mission before. The people at the mission desk don’t trust him, anyway. He’s only arrested bandits and protected feudal lords. He has never even killed anyone.
The other Iwa jonin curses under his breath, “Fuck. There are four of them and only two of us.” Then, he looks to Gai, “Can you make Shadow Clones, brat?”
Gai shakes his head, his hands bunch into the red fabric of his pants. He has never felt more useless until now, thoroughly doubting his abilities as he watches on helplessly.
“You useless piece of shit! You’re here to protect me, not burden me!” The man curses again, then forming a few quick seals to make multiple Kage Bunshins of himself. Gai can’t even utter a response to it. All he can do is to withdraw a bit more, keep his eyes out on the forest floor below a bit more carefully. His teammate is right. He shouldn’t be a burden, not to him, not to the village.
The four enemy-nin show up shortly after. Three of them look Gai’s age, actually, but their chakra signatures tell him not to undermine them. Well, at least not the one with white hair, who has motioned the rest of the squad to halt. Gai’s heart sinks to the bottom of his feet. Did they sense him? He can’t move. He wants to kick and run and scream but his body just won’t listen to him. It seems to have frozen in fear, watching as the masked shinobi come at all of his teammate’s Shadow Clones in an instant with an electric crackle of his hand that turns into a blade. He can only stand there and observe as the blond ninja steps forward and slices his teammate’s throat bloodlessly like a final act of mercy.
“There’s another one, sensei!”
Gai closes his eyes. None of the jutsus come to mind. The man is standing right next to him on the branch now, staring down at him as his shadow wraps around Gai completely like a chokehold.
Surprisingly, the shinobi’s gaze softens a bit. He takes a step back and body flickers away, grabbing his squad in the process.
“There’s no need to pursue. Your wound is serious - take care of that first.”
Gai recognizes the girl. She was part of that four-man squad he encountered in the forest, now lying unconscious on the floor as their captain ties her up. The rest of the two teammates chuckle and giggle as if Gai didn’t just tell them they had lost a member less than a minute ago.
Is it because war is so brutal that they can’t grieve for their fellow shinobi or is this just the nature of Iwa men?
But this girl… Maybe because she’s his age, maybe because she’s a medic-nin and Iwa can use some help right now with the number of injured ninja climbing steadily, or maybe because Gai doesn’t want to see another casualty if he can help it… He wants her to live. Truth be told, there is no enemy to him other than war itself.
“Our mission is to protect Kannabi Bridge, isn’t it? Why would we kidnap a Konoha shinobi? Shouldn’t we just let her go?” He voices cautiously, widening his stance to brace himself for impact.
True to his prediction, they both leap up, one aiming a kick at Gai’s throat, another dropping down low to sweep his feet. But Gai is no longer the kid who could barely run ten laps at the Academy. In a true moment of dexterity, he hops up and falls back at the same time, doing so at a speed so fast both of his so-called superiors collide, knocking each other out.
“Shut it, brat. I should report you to the Tsuchikage for treason,” says the captain, one hand arrogantly wiping away the spit spilling out of the corner of his mouth. The bloody veins in his eyes only embolden the blood thirst, and Gai knows for sure that if there isn’t a captive with them right now, they will both come for him until he lies there unconscious just like her, not even held together by an inch of skin.
“Since he wants to protect the damn bridge so much,” his other teammate is standing up now, “Go do it. Get to the bridge and watch out for enemies. You should be able to fend them off by yourself, right, Maito?” It’s an order, not a request.
Gai throws back a glance at the girl on the ground, then turns away and nods. He runs out of the forest as if running for his life, feeling bile slowly making its way up his throat. He doesn’t know what they will do to her, but he doesn’t want to witness it if he has no power to stop what’s happening.
The shuffling sounds of footsteps startle him.
Gai curses inwardly. To let his guards down and allow others to catch him off guard at such a time like this… But this is no time to wallow in self-pity and regrets. His life is on the line, but more importantly, so is the village’s. He doesn’t quite care for the insults and the laughter directed at him anymore. There are innocent civilians that will starve and fellow shinobi that will die if the bridge is destroyed and their supplies are cut off. Gai will be strong this time. He may die, but he will be a remnant of the spirit of youth.
The footsteps are moving away from him. They’re headed towards the cave where his teammates are…
The boys from earlier. No, there’s only one. He hasn’t learned to conceal his chakra that well, and his breathing is heavy enough for even a genin to catch on. What if it is a trap to lure Gai out? But he doesn’t have enough time to decide. His feet are already moving on their own, sending him sprinting through the forest as the wind glides against him like a million kunais. His heart is thumping too loud - stop! - either out of sheer fear or an urge to protect.
He comes back to his captain lying face down in a pool of blood. Not even Gai’s speed that he’s the proudest of could wield him useful. The man hasn’t been the smallest bit of kind to him, he knows that. But now the sun is too bright and prickly in his eyes, the wind too humid and stale dry like a Suna desert, and Gai is being pushed to his limits. He knows people die - Papa did and Gai will never be the same - but two deaths in one day, both of whom are his teammates that he’s supposed to shield with his life. Arresting bandits didn’t cost lives. Guarding feudal lords only earned his team a few cuts and bruises. He never had to face still-warm corpses, their blood bright and shimmering like the surface of a cursed lake.
Maybe people are right. He’s not ready to be a shinobi.
The ground under Gai’s feet shakes along with the loud rumble deafening his ears. He snaps around so fast not even whiplash can catch up to him, hopping a few steps back at the cave comes collapsing like a boulder hailstorm.
His sole surviving teammate rushes out first, eyes widening at the sight of Gai.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
Gai stammers, “I… I heard footsteps. I tried running back but it’s already too late and Captain is—-”
“Damn,” hisses the man, side by side with Gai now. He grabs onto his shoulder, body bent over in a breathless pant, “There are Konoha shinobi in there. You stay back and make sure none of them make it out alive, you hear me?” Those digits dig deep into the meat of his shoulder blade, sharp enough to bleed. “I’m the captain now, and I don’t want useless people on my team.”
With that, he vanishes in a blur.
They seem to not notice him hiding behind a tree nearby, too busy consumed by their own grief. For once, Gai is envious of their ability to cry. He’s still on a mission. He doesn’t have time to break down and sob yet, even though all signs are pointing towards an emotional collapse soon. His face is numb with the adrenaline pumping through his body, the only thing keeping him upright and gripping his kunai to his chest.
He stands there as the kid in white hair slams his fist into the ground, letting out ragged cries that are the complete opposite of the stone-cold, deadly shinobi he encountered in the forest earlier. The boy underneath the rock stirs slightly - it must cause him so much pain to even move right now, Gai thinks - grabbing him by the hand as he breathes out in wheezes. It’s a tragically beautiful picture of sacrifice and teamwork, one that Gai can only admire from afar, completely at odds with such a sight. He thinks back about his team, how each death doesn’t invoke more than a scoff from the remaining teammates, how he knows they will run for their lives and not even remember Gai if he were to be trapped under a boulder like this. He holds in his whimpers as the Konoha shinobi let their tears run dry in unimaginably painful wails. This is the true face of violence and conflict, all sides succumbing to agony that indent on them even after scars have healed. He watches on as the medic-nin performs the eye transplant, mesmerized by the tint of red swirling in the jonin’s eye, as if it has always belonged to him.
He can’t save them. He’s still an Iwa ninja, and his loyalty to the village means he can’t grab these Konoha shinobi by their hands and run, but he surely can stall them a few minutes if that’s what it takes for them to retreat.
He falls into the ground with a loud thud. The squad leader spits, then spits again, each time hitting his eyes sharply. Gai doesn’t react, doesn’t even reach up to shield his face. He can’t. Beaten to a bloody pulp, there is not a single patch of skin on his body that isn’t gnarly with cuts. He lies there as the insults keep coming, curses upon curses about how he’s useless, just like his father, taking the whole squad around in circles when they have so little time to catch the enemy. He lies there as they make their way to the cave, screams of horror drowning out the buzzing in his ears as he hears, clearly, the sound of each of his teammates being slain, and the loud thundering noise of the bridge collapsing.
Gai closes his eyes. He can smell the incoming rain. It will be a good excuse, Gai thinks, for the streaks of water running steadily along his face, disappearing in the torn scarf around his neck.
He can open up to six gates now.
Gai still wakes up at four in the morning to run five hundred laps around the village. He still goes on missions that hunt treasures and arrest bandits and protect feudal lords.
That day, when Gai was the sole survivor of the entire mission with more than a thousand men, most of whom bigger and stronger than him, he climbed to the top of the Tsuchikage tower, sitting silently as he bathed in the icy moonlight. He couldn’t sense it, not even a slight flare in chakra, but when Gai opened his eyes Lord Onoki was sitting beside him.
Silence hung loosely between them for a minute, and Gai savored it with gratitude. He didn’t quite have the power to kneel and greet like he usually would, but he had great respect for the man who represents the Will of Stone itself. Lord Onoki had seen more than his fair share of the high and low notes of war. He must understand the implication of Gai sitting here by himself, not reporting to the office.
“It must have been tough for you,” the Tsuchikage spoke first, words packed with considerable weight. “Your first real mission as a shinobi, to have so many casualties.”
Letting out a heavy sigh, he continued, not letting his size hinder the aura of a commander, “Such is the nature of war. We cannot always win, and sometimes losses can be hard to accept. But Iwa shinobi are made of stronger things than that, Maito Gai. You also inherit the Will of Stone, brave and relentless and determined. I didn’t let you attend the Academy because I wanted to bet on a losing chip.”
There was a lump in Gai’s throat.
“There was a four-man squad from Konoha,” he whispered, wincing at the memory of what happened, “A blond man faster than the eye could catch. A medic-nin, a white-haired shinobi that could turn his hand into a blade of lightning, and another with red, spinning eyes.” He tried to blink the tears away, “We couldn’t stop them.”
“Ah,” Onoki smiled wistfully, a small hand clapping on the same shoulder that his teammate had dug his fingers in a few hours before. “The Yellow Flash of Konoha, the White Fang’s son, and an Uchiha? No wonder…”
“You did good.” The Tsuchikage told him, turning away as his small frame collapsed slightly in defeat. They both sat there for a few more minutes, each submerged in their own thoughts before Gai succumbed to exhaustion.
Good was not enough.
So, Gai trains. He still does a thousand push-ups before going to bed. He still punches training posts until his arms can’t lift anymore.
The legendary White Fang’s son… That boy looked young, younger than him. There was a grace to the way he moved, so fast yet elegant and deadly enough to claim lives in an instant. He lived up to the reputation of Konoha shinobi, yet Gai can’t help but want to get near, like a moth attracted to fire. He cannot stop thinking about that day, the crackle of his jutsu and the whirl of his implanted eye.
Gai will do a hundred more push-ups and run a hundred more laps. He won’t lose to an elite-born shinobi. He still hasn’t lost track of his original goal.
It has been exactly a year since the destruction of the Kannabi Bridge.
There is peace in Iwa, or more precisely, a temporary treaty of ceasefire. But more than anyone else, he knows there is nothing more fragile and unpredictable than peace, despite his futile attempt to protect it.
There are few people in the village that can rival him in speed and stamina. Fellow shinobi don’t look down at him anymore, but they don’t exactly look at him either. It’s hard for them to admit that the laughing stock of the village is on track to be one of its most capable shinobi. Not that it matters to Gai anyways. He still trains and pushes himself to the edge, then wakes up the next morning to do it all over again.
Gai doesn’t know what exactly draws him to the bridge, now just a gigantic pile of rubble and nothing more. It’s like a checkpoint, almost, calling his name and yearning for his return.
He isn’t alone.
A burnt electrical crackle and the wail of a thousand birds comes charging at him. Gai leaps back, avoiding the deadly thrust by a mere inch. The sound of his thumping heart clouds his ears, muffling his own nervous ticks with excitement. He knows this chakra, this stamina, this speed.
Squatting barely in time to dodge another kick to his head, he closes his eyes and his fists, feeling the familiar rush of power surging through his body. The green heat forces the opposing shinobi to take a few wary steps back, red eye spinning observantly, tracking his every move. They come at each other again, both so fast that the air around them is charged with the friction of the dust they leave behind. The Konoha ninja strikes at him with full lethal intent, each move sharper and more brutal than the last. However, there are few people who can catch up to Gai’s speed and stamina, and this is the ultimate test to show that his abilities have stretched to be comparable with those outside of Iwa.
All of a sudden, it’s over.
The other boy drops onto his knees first, then all four. When his limbs fail him, too, he falls flat onto the ground, barely conscious, hanging on just by sheer will. Gai is reluctant to approach him. There’s nothing more unpredictable than Konoha shinobi, and while he doesn’t have grudges against them, he is not naive enough to think that they’re not capable of manipulating and taking advantage of his carelessness.
“Uhm… Are you alright?” Gai asks, hovering over from a foot away. There is no response, but Gai knows he can hear him well. The masked ninja shivers slightly, his body making futile attempts to move. Gai can hear his ragged breathing, too, and the way his teeth screech as they clench hard together.
Not even a minute later, he falls unconscious.
Quite frankly, this is the toughest problem Gai can have. On the one hand, he can’t just drag him back to the village. Well, first there is the barrier that detects outsiders. Second, he won’t just take anyone back, especially not a capable shinobi who can use the knowledge he gains against the thing Gai swears to protect. On the other hand, he can’t just leave him out here, either. Best case scenario, he’s going to wake up just fine and return to the village on his own. Worst case scenario, he’s going to be caught by other enemy-nin, or mauled by wild animals, or dies of chakra exhaustion. None of the options sound viable.
Well, that pile of rubble looks like it can offer some protection. They can hide there for a bit while Gai waits for the other boy to wake up.
The moon is at its peak when he feels the body next to him stir. Instinctually, Gai scoots back, holding in his breath as the opposing ninja startles awake, sitting up in an abrupt motion that makes them both wince.
One, two, three.
That is all the time it takes before Gai is pinned to the ground, an arm crushing his windpipe. From this angle, he can see clearly the slow, mesmerizing spin of the red eye, piercing straight into Gai’s own. The pressure on his neck is heavy and his vision is already blurring a bit, but he doesn’t panic.
“Who the fuck are you and where am I?” grunts his captor through ragged breaths, clearly still recovering from the fatigue of passing out. Gai doesn’t answer, just glancing pointedly down at the arm that is slowly suffocating him, signaling that he cannot answer. Following his line of sight, the other boy removes the pressure, replacing it with a kunai aimed straight at his main artery instead.
Finally free, Gai gasps for breath like a fish out of water. Still, he keeps his body as motionless as he can, not wanting to die before he can speak. He knows a thing or two about hostage situations, and it’s certainly never great to aggravate the one with the upper hand.
“You’re awake!” Gai answers gleefully, only to realize it’s kind of a pointless observation. “I’m Maito Gai, the Blue Beast of Iwa, and we’re under the Kannabi Bridge! Well, what used to be the bridge, before Konoha destroyed it, I mean.”
The sharp feeling at his neck increases, and Gai is sure there’s a line of blood trickling steadily down his throat now, “Iwa? What did you do to me?”
“I didn’t do anything!” Gai wants to flail his arms and explain, but any sort of movement can end up with his head detached from his body. “You attacked me first and then you fainted out of nowhere. I couldn’t exactly drag you back to my village or yours, so I brought you here! Are you feeling better yet? I’m not good at medical ninjutsu, and we’re running low on supplies so I couldn’t give you anything —”
“Stop babbling or you’ll be breathing through a hole in your neck. Why didn’t you kill me? Think you can torture something about Konoha out of me?"
Are all Konoha shinobi this paranoid? Maybe that’s what makes them so dangerous - their caution. Gai knows he should be very afraid right now, should be shaking and begging for mercy, but he’s feeling strangely calm. Not exactly calm, since there’s a weird feeling coiling at the pit of his stomach at the sight of fluffy white hair drooping all over him, and the sound of their shaky breath syncing shouldn’t sound so good. But yes, he’s not scared or the tiniest nervous.
“That is not my intention at all! I just didn’t want you to be hurt. I don’t want to kill or torture anyone. See! I had all the chances I could, but I didn’t do anything, and I had the White Fang’s son right there.”
The body on top of him goes stiff at the mention of the name, and the pointed tip of the kunai only pierces in further, “You know who I am?”
Gai responds in a whisper, “Of course I do. Your dad’s name is recognized by the whole shinobi world”.
On top of him, the masked shinobi hisses, “Do not refer to me with that name.”
“Well,” Gai grins, teeth and all, “What’s your name then?”
A long period of silence tangles between them, leaving only the low muffling sound of their own breaths. Then, against the Konoha ninja’s better judgement, “...Kakashi.”
“Ka-ka-shi! That’s such an amazing name for an amazing shinobi like you. I’m sorry I was rude, calling you by your father’s name. It must have been frustrating living under someone’s shadow! Well, I can tell you that you’re just as splendid of a ninja, if not better!”
“You really suck at this,” the boy, no, Kakashi, stares at him, not making an effort to move.
“Suck at what?” Gai asks curiously.
“Interrogating. Holding people’s hostage. Being a shinobi.”
“What?!” yells Gai dramatically, “The first two were never my intentions. But I’m just as dedicated as you are in terms of being a ninja!” Seeing Kakashi’s one raised eyebrow of disbelief, Gai tries again, speaking louder as if that’ll make his argument more convincing: “You don’t believe me? Make it a challenge, then, and let’s see which one of us comes out on top!”
Reluctantly, Kakashi climbs off of Gai, withdrawing the threatening kunai entirely. He slumps against the wall, one hand reaching up to cover his left eye, another settling on the ground as if to find an anchor. Gai sits up, too, not quite approaching. He hasn’t forgotten that he almost had to breathe through a hole in his neck just mere seconds before.
A few comforting minutes of quiet, and Kakashi speaks again, tone lower and much more serious this time: “Don’t think I’m letting you out of here alive.”
That attitude again. Gai doesn’t let his excitement waver, though, “Excellent, Kakashi! But you will have to be able to make me stay here first. Yosh! This will be an esteemed challenge that assesses our strength and skill!”
“You think I can’t beat you?” There’s a hint of cockiness the way he says it, as if he doesn’t believe that the Green Beast of Iwa can overpower him. This is where Gai will prove him wrong, though.
“I know for a fact that you can’t beat me.” He enunciates each word teasingly. The heavy atmosphere from before is completely dispelled, leaving behind only the bantering between two boys and not two men in a war.
Kakashi turns his head away, avoiding Gai’s intent gaze, “I don’t have time for child’s play.”
“It’s not child’s play! It’s an honest, hot-blooded battle that calls upon the spirit of the Springtime of Youth.”
Kakashi sighs exasperatedly, “You’re just a kid.”
“You look younger than I am!” Gai retorts.
“And yet I know more than you do.” Running a hand over his messy hair, the masked shinobi stands up. Moonlight dances on his skin, reflecting a shimmer that almost blows Gai away, as if a genjutsu is casted on him. “Look, I won’t kill you today because you helped me or whatever. But when I see you again, one of us is going to die and it’s not me.”
“Wait!” Gai shouts, chasing after a Kakashi that is already leaping away. “But what about our challenge? Don’t leave! I- I will be here in exactly a month, Kakashi. I’ll wait for you. I must see a fitting end to the challenge I propose! Remember that!”
He’s not sure Kakashi heard him. Regardless, he intends to keep his end of the deal.
The sun is slowly making its way down, settling behind the thick blankets of clouds. Gai has been here since before the day even broke, when birds weren’t chirping but snoozing away in their nests.
He has faith that Kakashi will come. If it’s anything Gai has, it’s optimism and trust, something he rewards to people generously despite always being on the receiving end of disrespect and hatred. Nothing can dull his positivity for even a minute. Being in the springtime of youth means he always has energy to see the best in people and recover from it if the case is that he puts his faith in the wrong hands.
He has been swaying back and forth, fighting the creeping sleep when there’s the first, tiniest stir in a nearby bush. It must be intentional, a signal to let him know the person is here. Ninjas don’t make mistakes like this, deliberately making noises, even the faintest of sounds.
He hops back, crouching slightly, bandaged arms reaching forward in a defensive stance, eyes watching carefully like a predator on its prey. Predictably, a tuff of white hair rises out first, then comes the boy he’s been waiting for for hours on end. Hah! His efforts have paid off, just like they always do.
“Kakashi! You made it!” Gai yells gleefully, pumping his fists in the air.
“Shut up,” stammers the masked shinobi, eyes looking elsewhere but Gai’s, “I had a mission in Kusa. Just thought I would stop by here.” Then, in a much, much softer tone, which Gai would have missed had he been a lesser ninja, Kakashi speaks again, “Didn’t think you’re still here though.”
“Of course I’m here! Going back on one’s promise is betraying the very essence of youth! Now, are you ready for our challenge, Rival?”
“Rival?” Kakashi cocks an eyebrow at the word. To that, Gai scratches his head sheepishly, suddenly shy. “I mean, I can’t think of a better word. We are, ultimately, doing this challenge to push each other to be our best selves, and to get better and stronger! It’s what rivalries are, right?”
“I guess. We definitely aren’t friends,” Kakashi shrugs cooly.
“But we aren’t enemies either!” He responds almost immediately, a bit too similar to a plea.
“Whatever. Let’s do this so I can finish you for good.”
“Hah! You would have to beat me first!”
They launch at each other in an instant, the air swarming with the buzz of friction and lethal intent. Kakashi really is keeping his word, each strike more dangerous than the last, his headband tossed on the ground as his left eye follows each of Gai’s moves meticulously. But the Green Beast of Iwa isn’t easily shaken, blocking every hit with ease. Arms crossing to block the kick coming at monstrous speed, then looping behind to avoid the kunais, looking down at the opponent’s feet to dodge the genjutsu, they were on par for each and every move.
A heavy, unified thud, the two figures hit the ground at the exact same time.
“That was a tie,” Gai chokes through his gasps, mouth curving to a grin brighter than the moon above. He has cuts all over, shallow and deep at varying degrees. As much as a gentle breeze can make him gnaw on his lips to avoid hissing in pain, yet Gai counts the spar as a wondrous victory. Who would have thought, the Eternal Genin’s son defeating the White Fang’s son…
However, his joy is short-lived. The body next to him shifts slightly, and a lesser shinobi would have missed the movement had they not paid attention, “Hardly. Look at the sorry state you’re in”.
Gai turns to the source of the voice, looking him directly in the eye. Unlike Gai whose whole body is a canvas of tattered scars and bruises, Kakashi doesn’t look phased at all. The only thing that betrays his image is the steady bead of sweat rolling down his forehead, disappearing into the thin fabric of his navy mask.
“Ha! Speak for yourself, Rival! I can run another hundred laps around my village with ease. I can’t say the same for you though!” As usual, Gai doesn’t let the mood go stale just because of Kakashi’s slightly less youthful words. He’s made of tougher things than that - true to the spirit of an Iwa shinobi.
The next words that come out of his Rival’s mouth completely catch Gai off guard.
“Yeah, I know.”
The admittance is so unlike him. Even though he has only known Kakashi for a short while (which actually seems very long in his mind considering their first brief encounter a year ago), he has never seen him show such a defeatist attitude before. Not even that day at the Kannabi Bridge where he wailed so loudly out of anger for his own incompetence.
Gai almost misses it, that glint in the other boy’s uncovered eye. There’s a well of bottomless sorrow reflecting back the light of the anguish moonlight above them, a vat of regret that must have haunted him in his every moment. Naturally, Gai reaches back into his treasure of words to encourage his rival, but nothing comes up no matter how hard he digs.
A sigh escapes the Konoha-nin’s lips, audible even in the cicadas’ noisy tunes, “I never imagined that a gift could come at such a great cost of my chakra. I’m still adapting to it, I guess.” Then, seemingly recognizing that he let a hint of doubt slip out, Kakashi corrects himself, “I will adapt to it. The eye is a will entrusted to me.”
Then he turns, facing Gai, tone serious, “And when I master it, I will kill you.”
They stare at each other for a moment, pulled into an unspoken contest. Gai doesn’t need to ask to know why Kakashi is so hellbent on taking him down. They’re ninjas from opposing sides amidst a war. To make matters worse, Gai is from the same village that kills Kakashi’s precious teammate, undoubtedly altering the course of his life forever.
But Gai doesn’t care about all of that. Revenge doesn’t help anyone. It doesn’t fill up the hole of emptiness left behind by the departure of a loved one - Gai knows. Wars are ever-changing, enemies become allies and comrades turn against one another time and time again. Even if he kills until his hands are numb, until even his soul is coated by the splatter of the blood of his sworn nemeses, what would Gai gain? He would still go back to a vacant shack, dust gathering into a thick blanket on the floor, reminding him of the shattered past that he can no longer patch back together.
But, obviously, Kakashi thinks differently. Gai doesn’t know which one of the two of them has the better coping mechanism, but he knows for sure that his Rival will die first if he keeps diving head first recklessly towards vengeance like this.
So, he reaches out, bandaged hand hovering on top of the lightning-scarred one but not quite touching. “Well, hopefully you will get better at your next attempt. How about next week?”
“You want to schedule the day of your death?”
“I already told you, Kakashi. Only if you overpower me.”
“Then next week will be your last day on earth.”
It’s settled, then. That’s a triumph in itself too, Gai tells himself. At least Kakashi has a goal to look forward to instead of rushing to die.