Two oversized iron basins sat in the courtyard, heaped high with thick bone-in ribs, juicy chicken breasts, slabs of beef and pork belly, perfectly boiled eggs, steamed broccoli, piles of rice, and a generous sprinkling of calcium powder.
The eight ninja dogs were tearing into the feast with unrestrained gusto. Kakashi, having just finished cooking lunch for his pack, leaned back beneath the eaves with his battered copy of Icha Icha Paradise open in one hand.
"Remember to clean your bowls when you're done," he called out lazily, not bothering to look up from the page.
"Woof! Hikari always does it anyway," Pakkun grumbled through a mouthful of meat, glaring at the silver-haired man lounging like he hadn't a care in the world.
"And before Hikari showed up?" Kakashi asked, turning another page without lifting his head.
"...Hikari's still the best," Pakkun muttered, smacking his lips and diving back into his food.
Kakashi didn't bother dignifying the dog's fickleness with a response.
"Tch—"
He flipped to the final page and stared at the dreaded words: To Be Continued.
That damn Jiraiya and his cliffhangers…
Just as Kakashi was mentally cursing the Toad Sage, all eight dogs suddenly froze mid-bite and snapped their heads toward the front gate in perfect unison.
"That pineapple-headed guy's here," Pakkun announced.
Kakashi said nothing. He simply reached for the teapot and poured himself a leisurely cup.
The gate creaked open, revealing two very familiar figures.
Nara Shikaku and Akimichi Chōza.
"Hokage-sama," Shikaku intoned gravely, bowing low with a somber expression. Chōza mirrored the gesture a half-step behind him.
"I have come to confess my error."
Kakashi's visible eye remained half-lidded, dark and unreadable as he regarded the man.
"Oh? And what error would that be, Senior Shikaku?"
"I presumed to guess at Your Excellency's thoughts," Shikaku said, voice steady despite the weight behind every word, "and then, without permission, ordered Chōza to withhold intelligence concerning Danzō Shimura. Afterward, I invited Chōza to my home, hoping you would come question me personally."
"That was my mistake alone."
"I beg the Hokage's punishment."
He spoke with absolute sincerity, neatly absolving Chōza and shouldering every ounce of blame himself.
Shikaku had finally seen Kakashi for what he was. Hesitate any longer—keep playing the old games of favors and "understandings"—and he'd be quietly shunted off to some harmless, forgotten corner of the village, like a retired librarian. That was not a future the Nara clan head could accept.
Kakashi's gaze slid to Chōza, who stood silently at Shikaku's side, hands clasped and expression unreadable.
So they'd talked it over beforehand. Shikaku would take the fall alone.
"Very well," Kakashi said at last, voice mild. "Since you recognize your mistake so clearly, your punishment will be a three-month salary deduction."
He couldn't be bothered to drag this out. It wasn't a grave offense—just the lingering stench of old-boy politics. And since the man in front of him had once been his teacher's right hand, Kakashi was willing to be merciful.
"Thank you, Hokage-sama." Shikaku exhaled, the tension in his shoulders easing a fraction.
At once, Chōza stepped forward and produced a scroll from his sleeve. He presented it with both hands and a deep bow.
"This contains records of every skirmish—physical and verbal—between Root and ANBU over the past year, along with how each incident was handled."
Kakashi accepted the scroll, unfurled it, and skimmed the densely packed entries.
Nearly a brawl every three days. Insults traded every two.
His eyebrow twitched.
He looked up slowly, fixing Shikaku with a stare sharp enough to cut.
"You buried these?"
"Y-Yes, sir." Sweat beaded on Shikaku's forehead. He opened his mouth—then closed it again, swallowing whatever excuse he'd prepared.
"And who exactly is the Commander of the ANBU?" Kakashi asked softly, turning his attention to the silent mountain of a man beside him. "You, or him?"
Chōza dropped to one knee almost on reflex. "This subordinate accepts full responsibility!"
A glint of ice flashed in Kakashi's eye.
He didn't mind his subordinates being close—hell, he preferred it. Loyalty like that was rare.
But there was a line. Official duties were official duties. Personal feelings could not come first.
He really had been too naive when he took this seat.
"Go back and submit your resignation," Kakashi said, tone leaving no room for argument. "Leading a regular jōnin squad isn't a bad life."
"Yes, sir," Chōza answered immediately, rising only to bow again.
Kakashi turned back to Shikaku.
"As for you—one thing at a time. Meddling in a fellow department head's duties without authority earns you three months of closed-door reflection. Hand your responsibilities over to Shibi Aburame."
Compared to the perpetually scheming Ino–Shika–Chō trio, the Aburame and Hyūga clans had always kept their heads down and did exactly what was asked of them—no more, no less.
"...Understood," Shikaku ground out between clenched teeth.
Three months wasn't crippling, but it was long enough. Long enough for rumors to spread. Long enough for people to wonder what the Nara clan head had done to earn seclusion on only the second day of the new Hokage's tenure.
The resignation of the ANBU Commander and an elder's sudden "reflection" would set the entire village whispering.
Kakashi regarded him coolly. "Anything else you'd like to say?"
Shikaku opened his mouth. Closed it. Sweat rolled down his temple.
"No, sir."
He was done for.
At least while this Fifth Hokage reigned, Shikaku had been quietly exiled to the shadows. Even if he returned to duty after three months, he'd be a lone figure from now on—cut off from the networks that had sustained him.
In a way, interfering with ANBU affairs was perilously close to the same crime Danzō had committed.
Kakashi's eye narrowed, a cold smirk curling beneath the mask.
"Good. Then go hand your work over to Shibi. After that, you may begin your reflection."
Shikaku bowed stiffly and retreated. Chōza followed a step behind, the two men disappearing through the gate without another word.
Kakashi watched them go, then glanced down at the scroll again, brows drawing together.
The ANBU Commander position was now vacant.
Who in the village was qualified to fill it?
He had two names in mind.
Jiraiya. Asuma Sarutobi.
Jiraiya certainly had the strength and reputation, but the man had turned down the Hokage seat itself—he'd laugh in Kakashi's face if offered ANBU command.
Asuma was already serving among the Twelve Guardian Ninja, and he was still too young for a post more sensitive than even the Council of Elders.
Troublesome.
Kakashi's gaze drifted as a new thought formed.
Ever since he'd restructured the ANBU and carved off pieces of its authority—some to Root, far more shifted from foreign intelligence to internal oversight—Danzō had been watching the department like a starving hawk.
An empty seat at the table?
Danzō wouldn't be able to resist reaching for it.
Perfect.
Kakashi's eye curved into a faint, dangerous crescent.
Time to toss out a brick…and draw that old jade right into the open.
————
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