Originally, Kakashi believed his father's death was solely because he had broken the rules.
If he had followed them—if he had abandoned his comrades—his father would still be alive.
But Gintoki disagreed.
He argued that ninjas weren't emotionless machines. Before becoming ninjas, they were first and foremost human beings.
His father had been a true ninja.
Kakashi couldn't decide who was right, but deep down, he found himself leaning toward Gintoki's answer.
*****
The next day, the number of attendees at the funeral dwindled drastically—no more than twenty at most.
But these people were different.
Like him, they mourned sincerely, regretting his father's passing, and even stayed with him through the night vigil.
After the final rites, Kakashi and Gintoki turned to leave together…
Well, not home—their house was still under reconstruction.
For now, they were staying in a shabby little inn.
Kakashi felt unwell.
Everything around him swayed, perhaps from the long hours of chanting sutras.
His head and body refused to cooperate.
The world darkened before his eyes, and even the noisy cicadas seemed to grow distant.
Standing became a struggle, and many things no longer mattered.
His foot slipped.
Someone's back caught him just before he hit the ground.
Seeing the familiar silver hair in front of him, Kakashi tried to stubbornly push himself upright, but the other man unceremoniously hoisted him onto his back.
"Who are you trying to act tough for? Who else can you whine to besides your big bro? Honestly, you're lucky to even have someone to whine to. Me? I don't even have that."
Kakashi rolled his half-formed dead-fish eyes at the remark but eventually gave up struggling and slumped against Gintoki's shoulder.
"No one to whine to? Hah! Fine, I'll be generous and let you whine to me!"
The boisterous voice belonged to the Crimson...
Little Pepper standing beside the Yellow Flash.
"Kushina…" Minato sighed helplessly beside her.
Speaking without reading the room was one of Kushina's chronic habits.
"Sorry, but Gin-san's a sweet tooth. A woman like you can't satisfy my cravings—you're more of a spicy—OW!"
"What was that? What were you gonna say about my type?"
Kushina retracted her fist after smacking Gintoki's head.
Though her eyes curved into crescents, the veins on her forehead throbbed violently.
Gintoki fell silent for a moment, then turned to Minato with a sigh and shook his head.
"All this time… you've really had it rough."
"Huh?"
Minato blinked, then quickly caught Kushina as her vibrant hair began to flare wildly.
"Calm down, Kushina! I don't feel the slightest bit burdened! Really!"
As he spoke, he urgently signaled Gintoki with his eyes to make his escape.
..
.Watching Gintoki's small figure gradually disappear into the distance with Kakashi on his back, Kushina, who was still being supported by Minato, broke free.
Her expression changed as she gazed at Gintoki's retreating back, revealing a mix of heartache and unresolved emotions.
Though he always acted indifferent, because she often saw him while teamed up with Minato, Kushina had gradually come to understand Gintoki's true nature over the past year.
Despite his young age and sharp tongue, he genuinely cared for everyone in his own way.
Beneath that lazy, careless, and seemingly irresponsible exterior lay a kind, strong, and deeply principled heart.
"I thought Gintoki might need comfort too, but it seems we were overthinking it. He's stronger than we realized," she sighed softly.
"Indeed," she added. "If only Sakumo-san could have been like him."
"Yeah..."
Both of them, who deeply respected Sakumo, couldn't help but lament his passing.
Such a powerful shinobi had ultimately taken his own life because of rumors.
The power of rumors, the power of words—sometimes, they were the most formidable of all.
After Kushina and Minato left, an Anbu ninja wearing a fox mask, who had been silently observing the funeral from the shadows, vanished in an instant.
...
"What does it feel like to witness your own funeral?"
Late at night, atop the Hokage Building's rooftop, the Third Hokage, hands clasped behind his back as he gazed at the village below, asked this question.
The Anbu ninja standing behind him shook his head helplessly.
It seemed he would have to live the rest of his life wearing a mask.
"I'm sorry, Sakumo. I couldn't stop the rumors in the village."
"No, it's not your fault, Sandaime-sama."
The Anbu ninja shook his head again.
Indeed, this was none other than Hatake Sakumo, who was supposed to have died by suicide.
"But you have an outstanding son."
Hiruzen Sarutobi sighed with emotion.
He had already heard reports from other shinobi about Gintoki's behavior at the funeral today.
Some praised him, while others condemned him as unfilial and disgraceful for causing a scene at his own father's funeral.
Of course, the latter voices were louder.
Hiruzen wouldn't let these opinions cloud his judgment.
What truly caught his attention were Gintoki's words.
—Before becoming a shinobi, we are first human.
Who didn't know that?
And yet, what shinobi could completely rid themselves of human desires and emotions?
But this was the world they lived in—full of contradictions, and shinobi were no exception.
What left the deepest impression on Sakumo, however, was the moment his eldest son pointed at the comrade he had once saved and said—
'Stop flattering yourself. The person he saved was his comrade, not you.'
Every time he recalled those words, Sakumo struggled to hold back tears.
There had been one small figure who never doubted him, one small figure who stopped him from taking his own life, one small figure who scolded him back to his senses.
And that person was his son.
That evening, Gintoki—unusually battered from a mission—had appeared at his doorstep, arms crossed.
He must have sensed something was wrong and rushed back after completing his mission.
Sakumo had immediately realized this possibility, but at the time, his heart had been too numb, consumed only by the desire to atone for his sins through death.
"Please take care of Kakashi. If it's you, I know there won't be any problems. I'm begging you, Gintoki. Please let Dad go... I'm truly begging you."
His voice had been choked with tears when he said those words.
"I would be proud of you for abandoning a mission to save your comrades, but I won't feel any pride for someone who would commit suicide over gossip and rumors."
That was Gintoki's response at the time.
Then, a mask and a set of clothes were thrown at him.
He recognized the outfit—it was ANBU attire.
"But humans have their fragile moments too, so it's okay to run away temporarily."
When Gintoki said this, it was the first time he had ever seen those usually sharp eyes soften with deep, hidden sorrow.
It was at that moment Sakumo realized the always reliable Gintoki was still just a child—so very small.
As a father, was it right to entrust everything to someone so young?
If his mother knew, she would surely scold him harshly.
With these thoughts, Sakumo ultimately abandoned his suicide plans and chose the proposal Gintoki had secretly made to the Third Hokage days earlier.
He had known Sakumo would reach this point and had gone to the Third with this suggestion—or rather, this plea.
"At the very least, from now on, I can watch over their growth from the shadows. That's enough for me."
Hearing Sakumo's words, the Third's expression gradually softened.