Escaping the Mist Ninja starts with backstabbing your teacher.

Chapter 154 Only passion can save us from despair!

In a secluded grassy area next to the Third Training Ground in Konoha.

After leaving Tsunade's underground examination room, Kakashi neither returned to the Anbu dormitory nor went to the training grounds.

Instead, they found themselves wandering onto this almost forgotten lawn by some strange twist of fate.

There were no ninja targets, no signs of battle, only a patch of weeds tanned yellow by the sun, and a few crooked elm trees with sparse branches and leaves that could barely block the strongest afternoon sun.

He took off the uniform jacket of the Dark Division and folded it aside, then lay on his back on the grass wearing only a black inner layer.

One hand was behind her head, and the other hand rested on her headband, her fingertips just touching the edge of the headband worn diagonally.

Beneath the headband, the left eye, which had been forcibly inserted, remained quietly in its socket, without any pain, itching, or discomfort.

But the more normal it seemed, the more uneasy he felt.

Sunlight filtered through the gaps in the clouds, casting dappled patterns of light on Kakashi's face.

He gazed at the sky, where a few birds occasionally flitted across the grey-blue expanse, their calls brief and fleeting.

His thoughts did not drift away with the birds, but instead sank into an inexplicable quagmire.

Since returning from the Land of Snow, his life has taken a different turn.

The Sharingan that Obito left him was taken away and replaced with an eye of unknown origin.

His mission in the Anbu was temporarily suspended. The Third Hokage told him to rest first, and Tsunade asked him to cooperate with the investigation.

The people in the sealing team had to reseal his left eye every few days.

Everyone cared about him, everyone was worried about him, but he didn't know what to do.

Get stronger? How do I get stronger?

All his past fighting styles were built around that Sharingan.

Dynamic vision, prediction, copying ninjutsu, and the precision of the Lightning Blade—all of these depend on that scarlet eye.

Now that he's lost his Sharingan, his fighting power will be reduced by at least 40%.

Although he has picked up his family's swordsmanship again during this period, swordsmanship cannot be mastered back to its peak in a day or two.

His father, Hatake Sakumo, earned his reputation through countless life-or-death battles, but he had wasted too much time on that.

Kakashi gently touched his headband, his fingers lingering on the cold metal for a moment.

He wanted to become stronger and to reclaim Obito's left eye.

This feeling has never been so strong, not because I hate Taketori Izumikawa, but because that eye shouldn't belong to that person.

Just as he was lost in thought, a reflection suddenly entered his field of vision.

A round, watermelon-shaped head, with short, black hair neatly trimmed, resembling half a watermelon placed on its head.

The man's face peered down from above, appearing upside down in Kakashi's line of sight.

Thick eyebrows, large eyes, a straight nose, and a wide grin that revealed a row of white teeth that gleamed in the sunlight.

"Kakashi, you're here!"

The voice was so loud it sounded like it was being shouted through a loudspeaker, startling several sparrows in the nearby trees into taking flight.

Kakashi's eye twitched slightly. He recognized the face.

In the entire Hidden Leaf Village, apart from the person in front of us, no one else would make an entrance in this way, and no one else would smile so—blatantly.

He slowly turned his head away, not wanting to look at that face. Not out of disgust, but because the smile was just too bright, so bright that it made him feel ashamed of his own dejection.

Unfortunately, the other party didn't seem to grasp the meaning of "not wanting to communicate."

He squatted down relentlessly, changing from looking upside down to looking straight ahead at Kakashi.

The face with thick eyebrows and big eyes was so close that Kakashi could see the fine scars on his eyebrows from overtraining.

"Come and duel me, Kakashi!"

His voice was still loud and his tone was still passionate, as if he didn't even know how to spell the word "refusal".

A hint of helplessness appeared in Kakashi's deadpan eyes; he had known this person for far too many years.

From mutual dissatisfaction at the ninja academy to becoming "lifelong rivals".

And now—he lies here, and that person is still standing in front of him, saying the same words in the same tone.

"I'm not interested right now, Kai." Kakashi's voice was lazy, not even bothering to raise the last syllable.

"There's nothing a heated duel can't solve," Kai said, hands on his hips, back ramrod straight, his voice booming. "If there is, then two duels will do!"

Kakashi fell silent. Not because he was convinced, but because he was too lazy to argue.

Kai pulled a scroll tied with a red string from his waist and waved it in front of Kakashi.

The scroll was old, with worn edges, and a small bell was tied to the red string, making a crisp tinkling sound when it was shaken.

"I've prepared something special for today," Kai said with a hint of pride. "I obtained a secret medicine formula from the Third Hokage, and after some modifications, I've turned it into a medicinal bath."

"The loser has to treat the winner to a bath. I guarantee you'll feel completely refreshed and all your fatigue will be gone!"

"—You even prepared a duel bonus?" Kakashi asked listlessly.

"Of course! Youth is about leaving no regrets!" Kai nodded vigorously, his watermelon-shaped haircut swaying in the sunlight.

Kakashi gazed at the still azure sky and remained silent for a moment.

Then, he raised his hand and grasped Kai's outstretched hand.

His hands were rough, with thick calluses on his palms and fingertips—marks left from years of punching and kicking.

Kakashi was pulled up from the grass by a brute force, his clothes covered with grass clippings and a few withered grass stems hanging from his hair.

"Just three minutes." Kakashi patted the corner of his shirt, his tone still lazy, but the weariness in his eyes seemed to have faded a bit.

"Three minutes is enough!" Kai jumped back a few steps, creating some distance.

He clenched his fists and held them in front of him, assuming the starting stance for the Leaf Village Fluid Technique.

"Three minutes of youth are far more valuable than a lifetime of mediocrity!"

Kakashi pulled his headband back up, reached behind his waist with his right hand, and drew out the newly forged short sword.

The blade is not long, about half an arm's length, with a thick back and a thin but sharp edge.

This was specially made by a blacksmith after he revived his family's heirloom sword. The steel used was a special ore brought back from the Land of Snow, which is much harder than ordinary ninja swords.

He casually stuck the scabbard into the grass and gripped the hilt to loosen his wrist.

The blade flashed a cold light in the sunlight, illuminating half of Kakashi's face, which was covered by a headband.

He turned around and cut a suitable branch from the tree next to him, then stuck the dagger into the ground and picked up the stick.

"bring it on."

Kai's grin widened, his bright white teeth gleaming in the sunlight.

Two flames burned in his eyes, not the crimson of Sharingan, but the inextinguishable orange light of a hot-blooded fool.

"This is the Kakashi I know!"

The wind rustled through the leaves of the elm trees at the third training ground.

Two figures on the grass, one as upright as a pine tree, the other as languid as a willow, both share the same thing: an unyielding stubbornness.

In the distance, under the shade of a tree, a ninja dog peeked out from the bushes, yawned at the two figures facing off, and then retreated back inside.

Parker recognized him immediately; it was an old acquaintance of Kakashi's, and he figured there would be some trouble to come.

On the training field, Kakashi held a wooden stick, his posture loose, as if he might be blown over by the wind at any moment.

The stick was cut from the elm tree next to it, and the bark wasn't even completely removed.

It felt rough and uncomfortable to hold, and its length and weight were far inferior to his short knife.

But he didn't use the knife, not because he was afraid of hurting Kai, but because he knew that it would be unfair to Kai to fight him hand-to-hand with a real knife.

Kai stood opposite him, his hands already bandaged.

The white bandage was wrapped tightly and neatly from the base of the fingers to the wrist.

He used his teeth to bite and pull the end of the strip of cloth tight, stuffing it into the gaps of the wrapping.

He moved his fingers, and the muscles under the bandage bulged, stretching the cloth to create several raised outlines.

"Ready?" Kai's voice was no longer the loud, booming voice he used to have.

Instead, he calmed down, displaying a focus that only appears in battle.

-

Kakashi didn't answer, but simply switched the stick from his right hand to his left hand, and then back to his right hand.

His movements were slow, as if he were feeling the weight distribution of the wooden stick, or as if he was stalling for time.

Kai didn't wait for him. He pushed off the ground with his feet and shot across the seven or eight meters between them like an arrow.

His right fist, whistling through the air, hurtled straight at Kakashi's face.

Kakashi's body reacted faster than his brain.

He turned his head, and a fist grazed his ear, the air currents ruffling the stray hairs on his forehead.

At the same time, he raised his left hand, the end of the stick pointing towards Kai's abdomen.

Kai did not dodge; instead, he lowered his left arm and used the outside of his forearm to block the wooden stick.

The stick struck the forearm with a dull thud.

Kai's lips curled into a smile, not from pain, but from excitement.

"Too slow!" Kai's voice exploded in Kakashi's ears as his right leg swept across.

Kakashi took a half step back, holding the wooden stick upright beside him to block the kick.

But Kai's force was greater than he had expected. His body was shaken and he staggered two steps to the side, kicking two shallow craters into the grass beneath his feet.

"In this state, you still want to take back the Sharingan?" Kai didn't pursue, but instead stopped and stood still, his tone carrying a rare hint of sternness.

Kakashi's pupils contracted slightly, and he couldn't help but ask, "—How did you know?"

"Why do you think I came to see you?" Kai raised his arm and wiped the sweat from his forehead with a bandage. "The Third Hokage told me."

"Of course, it only said that you need someone to practice with, without going into details."

"But who am I? I'm your lifelong rival! I can smell everything that's happened to you."

Kakashi was silent for a moment, then lowered his head to look at the crooked wooden stick in his hand, the bark still stained with green sap, which had gotten all over his hand.

"—I am indeed very weak." His voice was very soft, as if he were talking to himself. "I used to rely on that eye and thought I was okay, but now that I'm gone, I realize that I am nothing."

"Bullshit!" Kai's voice suddenly rose, making the few remaining leaves on the tree tremble.