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Sasuke and Kakashi were sitting outside at their favorite bar-restaurant, a discreet spot tucked away at the end of a Konoha alley, shaded by trees. A half-empty glass of vodka sat in front of Kakashi, while Sasuke sipped on a still-steaming cup of green tea.
“You ready for the interview?” Kakashi asked, without lifting his eyes from his drink.
Sasuke crossed his arms, gaze fixed on the cobblestone ground. He hated this kind of formality. Sure, he had prepared. Hours spent rehearsing the right words, the right posture, under Kakashi’s critical eye. But the very idea of selling himself annoyed him. Becoming a jōnin wasn’t about prestige. He had something else in mind: access to tracking missions, getting closer to the Akatsuki, finding Itachi. And killing him.
A little less than a decade ago, he had left Konoha to train under Orochimaru, the village’s number one enemy. After eliminating the Sannin, he’d decided to return to his home village, driven by the need to perfect his strength and keep an eye on his sworn enemy. The Akatsuki were becoming a growing threat, and Konoha was throwing all its resources into locating their members. A perfect opportunity.
His reintegration had been slow, tense. But possible. Thanks to Kakashi. His former sensei had vouched for him, using his influence and status to shield him from punishment. Sasuke had quickly been promoted to chūnin, the rank at which he’d officially come of age. A year later, he was preparing to take another step forward. Not out of loyalty, but to better use Konoha for his own ends.
“When I took the chūnin exam, there wasn’t even an interview. Why’d they add one for jōnin?” he asked, annoyed.
Kakashi gave a sly smile, waving his hand in the air like he was about to drop some obvious truth.
“Because the jōnin rank is reserved for a certain caste. People think it’s all about talent or experience, but nope. What really matters is mindset. You need a certain worldview to even hope to become one.”
“Like putting the village above everything?”
“Bingo. A ninja’s not supposed to have personal goals. We should be ready to die for our mission. But more importantly, to protect Konoha’s people. Jōnin are supposed to represent the very best of what being a ninja means. You can’t hand out top-tier missions to people who aren’t loyal.”
“And having the right connections helps, too. Since you need to be recommended by a jōnin just to get the interview.”
Kakashi burst out laughing.
“Yep, they’re super picky about who gets in! Hope you’re grateful to me. ~”
Sasuke shot him a side glance, eyes half-lidded. Kakashi was about to take a sip when Sasuke said, smirking:
“Sleeping your way to the top really pays off.”
Kakashi choked, almost spitting out his vodka. He coughed, then between stifled laughs, “Shows you’re willing to make sacrifices, for sure. ~”
Sasuke chuckled. His expression softened, almost playful. Kakashi answered with a knowing wink. Officially, they’d been together for less than two months. Yet a sense of ease had already settled between them. They understood each other without speaking. Like an old couple bound by routine, quiet moments, and silent glances.
Sasuke glanced at the clock mounted on the establishment wall. He stood and paid the tab while Kakashi wished him good luck.
“And don’t forget… You’re getting revenge for the sake of Konoha, ~” Kakashi added with a sly smile.
*****************************************
The interview room was as cold as an operating theater. White walls, harsh neon lights, impersonal furniture. Sasuke stood straight, facing three jōnin. Two men, one woman. The one in the center caught his attention immediately. Piercing, almost translucent blue eyes that clashed starkly with his cropped black hair. He had a hard look, but a photogenic one, the kind of guy you'd expect to see on the cover of a military magazine.
To his left sat an older man with a stern face, weathered by age and responsibility. His round glasses gleamed under the bright lights, and though his gaze was calm, it missed nothing. He exuded quiet authority, almost like a professor.
On the right, a kunoichi with an elegant posture. Brown hair tied into a tight bun, one lock carefully draped across the side of her face. Her crossed arms betrayed a certain impatience, and her sharp eyes flickered between skepticism and judgment. She observed Sasuke like one might study a rare animal in a cage.
They introduced themselves quickly, and the central jōnin laid out how things would go. A maximum of one hour, beginning with a ten-minute self-introduction. Sasuke was expected to explain his motivations, his skills, and why he wanted to become a jōnin.
As he listened, the pressure began to mount. He had rehearsed dozens of times, but now it all felt absurd. Words collided in his mind. He clenched his fists to hide his anxiety.
Leaning against the door outside, Kakashi listened in silence, arms crossed, focused.
Then Sasuke spoke. His voice was steady. His posture controlled. He introduced himself, touched briefly on his past, the scars left by Itachi, and the reason he chose the path of a ninja anyway. His audience listened without reaction. The blue-eyed jōnin in particular seemed to pierce right through him.
When he finished, Sasuke felt like he was suffocating. He wished he could vanish. His heart pounded in his chest, sweat trickled down the back of his neck.
The central jōnin—the one who looked like he could crush his soul with a single word—launched the interrogation, “So how exactly does becoming a jōnin help you achieve your dream? What does it really change for you?”
A loaded question. Sasuke knew that. He expected it. They were trying to trip him up. To force him to talk about his revenge.
It’s not about power. It’s about mindset.
He took a deep breath.
“For a long time, my only goal was revenge. I saw strength as a tool, a way to crush anything standing between me and my target. But over time... I realized strength isn’t just about destroying. It’s about protecting. Becoming a jōnin isn’t just about rank. It’s about becoming a pillar. Someone others can rely on. And if I can reach that level, then I can stop others from going through what I did. That’s why I need to be ready to take responsibility.”
The jōnin pursed his lips, intrigued. Sasuke allowed himself a calmer breath. He hadn’t stuttered. He hadn’t shaken. His words had flowed naturally. It was a lie, of course—or rather, a twisted truth. His real motivation, the one he kept hidden, was restoring his clan’s honor, not the well-being of a village that never understood him. But that, he kept to himself.
Kakashi, still outside, smiled behind his mask. He had trained him well.
The central jōnin jumped back in immediately, giving him no room to breathe, “So I get that avenging your clan means a lot to you. But if, one day, someone else kills Itachi before you do, what will you do then?”
Sasuke swallowed hard. He knew a question like that would come. The calm tone barely disguised the provocation. He had to stay in control. One twitch, one hint of anger, and they’d pounce like wolves.
He waited a second longer than necessary, just enough to make it look like he was thinking.
“If someone else managed to kill Itachi, then my duty as a Konoha shinobi would be to accept it and focus on the well-being of my teammates.”
His tongue burned with the lie. What he’d just said was pure bullshit, masked with calm and strategy. A lie so obvious that anyone truly close to him would’ve seen right through it. But in this sterile room, they weren’t evaluating honesty. A good ninja had to wield words like a blade: with precision, calculation, and detachment. Lying was part of the job.
More than that, he knew something those jōnin didn’t: Itachi would never fall to anyone else. No one had the right to deliver the final blow. Only a Sharingan could match another Sharingan. Blood calls to blood. That task belonged to him alone.
But Sasuke understood what the jury really wanted. Not the truth. They wanted reassurance. Loyalty. Answers that proved he could talk like a model jōnin, someone ready to put the village above his own wounds.
Outside, Kakashi gave a faint smirk. The line had landed well, but it was a bit too blunt, too direct. The idea was there, sure—but it needed more polish to really fool the examiners. And above all, despite the mention of caring about teammates, Sasuke had missed the key point: that the mission always came first. In Konoha, the survival of a comrade would never outweigh the success of the objective. Kakashi didn’t approve of that logic, but he knew it was the norm. The system didn’t reward sentiment, only results.
The blue-eyed jōnin smirked mockingly. The one to his left, more reserved, slightly furrowed his brows, eyes locked on Sasuke like he was trying to read between the lines. As for the kunoichi, she rested her chin on her hand, one finger against her cheek, her eyes narrowed. She seemed to be thinking, weighing his words, analyzing him.
She picked up next, a sly smile on her lips:
“You really are the Copy Ninja’s student. But don’t let yourself get dragged into his nonsense. Would you be willing to sacrifice a teammate to complete a mission?”
Tricky question. Even though Kakashi had always preached teamwork, Sasuke knew the truth. On a mission, the village’s reputation came first. But that didn’t mean comrades should be sacrificed freely, especially if it wasn’t necessary. There was a balance to strike, and Sasuke needed to answer smart, not just spit out the textbook response.
“A commander should give everything he has to complete the objective without sacrificing anyone. But he also needs the courage to face what it means to be responsible for human lives. I’m not here to give pretty speeches or repeat what I was taught. I’m here because I know what it costs to lose someone. I’ve lived it. And I’ll do everything I can to make sure it doesn’t happen again.”
He paused, eyes darkening.
“As a chūnin, I’ve already faced situations where lives were at risk for the mission’s success. I never made those decisions lightly. When I choose, it’s never out of convenience.”
He’d spoken plainly, without trying to sugarcoat anything. His voice had weight. The room went quiet for a moment after his declaration. For a brief instant, he could feel doubt settling in among the examiners. But he also knew nothing was decided yet.
The blue-eyed jōnin took over again, his smile growing, “You talk a lot, but don’t you think you’re forgetting something?”
Sasuke raised an eyebrow. What was he getting at?
“You betrayed the village to join Orochimaru. You know, the lunatic who nearly wiped out the place you now claim to care about.”
A chill ran down Sasuke’s spine. He’d prepared for that jab, but hearing it out loud still stirred up unpleasant memories.
Outside the room, Kakashi found himself remembering the night Sasuke had left. Despite the detached front he’d put up, he’d felt useless that night. A part of him, the prideful part, had taken a hit. He’d always believed he could stop him. But Sasuke’s departure had forced him to question everything. Since then, he’d worked relentlessly, not to atone, but to become strong enough so that Sasuke could return one day without having to look down on him.
“Yes. I left the village. At the time, Konoha had nothing to offer me to accomplish what I was determined to do. Itachi had come back and tried to kidnap one of my friends, and I couldn’t do anything to stop him. I made a choice no one should ever have to make. And I’m still paying for it.”
He let the silence hang, then continued, voice sharper, “Joining Orochimaru helped me understand the cursed mark’s nature. He gave me the tools to keep control and maximize its power. I didn’t follow him. I used him. And when the time came, I killed him.”
His eyes glinted with a cold, unwavering resolve.
“I came back. Not because I switched sides, but because I realized that my strength alone wasn’t enough. And because I finally saw what Konoha really was. I’m not pretending to be perfect. But I am saying I’m ready. To use my skills for those who accepted me back.”
What he said about Orochimaru, he meant. But the rest... all that talk about Konoha, commitment, forgiveness—it was just a mask. A necessary cover to move his pieces forward.
Because he’d never truly felt like he belonged here. This village preached peace but lived for war. Spoke of morals but fed on filthy compromises. He hadn’t returned out of love, but to complete his revenge. Nothing else mattered. He’d played along, worn the uniform, endured the sideways glances, the thinly veiled humiliation—because that was the price. But over time, seeing certain faces again, especially growing closer to Kakashi, he’d caught a glimpse of something different.
Once his goal was complete, Sasuke planned to use his position to reshape this hypocritical system from the inside. And if that meant going up against Naruto, so be it.
The stern-faced jōnin finally spoke:
“It’s true you’ve shown a willingness to make amends since coming back. But I still wonder if you’re being honest. Kakashi’s protected you a lot. He even staked his reputation for you. I’m not sure it’s wise to let you potentially join our ranks.”
Sasuke stayed silent. No one else spoke. They were waiting for his answer. One last test.
“I’m grateful to Kakashi for giving me a second chance. Not just him, also my comrades who believed in me. If you think I’m still a risk, then talk to the people I’ve fought beside these past few years. Judge me by what I’ve done, not who I used to be. Regret isn’t enough. What matters is what you do after.”
Another pause followed. The panel exchanged quick glances. The man on the left remained impassive, the one in the center looked uncertain. The kunoichi seemed slightly softened.
The blue-eyed man gave his final verdict, voice flat and unreadable.
“You were still willing to betray Konoha for your revenge. You say you’ve grown, but you’re still obsessed with that quest... Alright. That’ll be all. We’ll let you know our decision tomorrow morning.”
Sasuke bowed briefly, thanked them, and left the room. A wave of relief washed over him. Finally, it was over. But the bitterness clung to his throat. Saying that much crap in one sitting made him sick to his stomach. And judging by the looks on some of their faces, not all of them were convinced. Not that it surprised him. They were jōnin themselves, after all. Trained to see through masks like his.
He found Kakashi in the hallway, peeling himself off the wall with casual ease. Without a word, Sasuke started to walk away. They left the building behind and headed toward a quieter spot, tucked away beneath the trees, hidden among thick foliage where no one would hear them.
“I knew this would be bullshit! That wasn’t an interview, that was an interrogation,” Sasuke growled.
Kakashi shrugged, amused.
“Well, yeah. With your record, what did you expect? To be honest, you handled it well. Good thing I coached you. ~”
Sasuke let out a weary sigh. He didn't have the strength to talk about it any longer. Just thinking about the interview made him want to throw up.
“You gonna leave the village if they reject you?” Kakashi teased.
“I came back mostly because I knew everyone here would bend over backwards to hunt the Akatsuki. But if they keep fucking me around, I won’t hesitate to find another way.”
Kakashi chuckled softly. He leaned toward Sasuke and hugged him. In response, Sasuke snuggled up against him.
“Ah, Sasuke… You never change. That’s why I love you. ~” he said, pressing a brief kiss to his lips.
Sasuke looked at him, more serious now.
“Can I still count on you?”
Kakashi looked up at the sky for a moment, then fixed him with a steady gaze.
“I trust you. So yeah. I’m on your side.”
Sasuke smiled.