Aoyama's voice was steady, but sharp as a blade:
"Kakashi, you used to be a genius. Everyone acknowledged it—no one thought your future would ever be mediocre. But ever since you took the Sharingan and earned the title of 'Copy Ninja,' your strength hasn't actually improved, has it?"
Kakashi had been one of the most gifted shinobi of his generation. He graduated early, completed countless missions on his own, and became a jōnin while others were still genin.
Back then, his talent was the envy of all. But ever since he had received Obito's Sharingan, that brilliance seemed to vanish. His growth had stagnated, as though he had become just another ordinary shinobi.
Despite the lofty title of "Copy Ninja," his true power had hardly advanced.
Kakashi's heart sank. He couldn't deny Aoyama's words. It was true—because he wasn't a Uchiha, the Sharingan drained him constantly, suppressing his natural talent.
His fighting style had also shifted, becoming more and more like that of the Uchiha: probing with weapons or minor ninjutsu, analyzing his opponent, then combining taijutsu, ninjutsu, and genjutsu with his battle experience to win. Effective, yes—but he hadn't grown stronger in years.
Lowering his head slightly, Kakashi admitted:
"You're right. I'm not Obito. Without Uchiha blood, the Sharingan gives me advantages in battle, but it also drags me down. My strength hasn't advanced in a long time.
"But still… this eye was Obito's gift to me. I'll use it to protect the village. Even if my own talent has vanished, with Obito's Sharingan at my side, I can still fight for Konoha!"
Aoyama couldn't help but laugh coldly.
"Kakashi, are you an idiot? You think Konoha really needs your protection? Don't you see every shinobi in Konoha is disposable? Do you really believe your father killed himself just out of shame? And what about Orochimaru-sensei's defection—you never wondered why?"
Kakashi's eyes hardened, kunai raised, his body lowering into a battle stance. His Sharingan glimmered with killing intent.
"I have thought about it. But every village has darkness. We're no longer children who believe the world is only black and white. Between light and shadow lies gray—and it's in that gray that we live."
Aoyama narrowed his eyes. He had hoped to shake Kakashi's loyalty, to make him turn his back on Konoha. But clearly, Kakashi had already considered these things deeply—and chosen his own answer.
Still, Aoyama wasn't disappointed. He had only been testing the waters. If it worked, good. If not, no loss.
He smirked. "I really envy you, Kakashi. To accept such a filthy village… even after your father died because of it. If it were me, I'd never endure that. So—how about I send you on a trip to the Pure Land?"
Boom!
Opening the Eighth Gates, Aoyama pushed his body into the Third Gate. Forbidden power erupted. Chakra flared wildly, the ground beneath his feet cracking apart as his body launched forward like a missile.
Kakashi's Sharingan spun rapidly. With its predictive vision, he tracked Aoyama's charge and raised his kunai, bracing with his arm to intercept.
Metal clashed with flesh and steel, the impact shaking his arm.
"Going to the Pure Land now would be a little early, don't you think? I'm still young. If I'm going to report to the afterlife, it'll be after I retire."
Steam hissed from Aoyama's nostrils like an enraged bull. His grin was savage.
"Is that so? Shame. Because I intend to send you there right now!"
Bang!
Kunai slashed, and fists swung. Their battle was fast, brutal, and spectacular, raw taijutsu clashing with refined technique. Konoha shinobi who had been preparing to assist hesitated, realizing one misstep could get them caught in the crossfire.
Kakashi's kunai danced like lightning, every movement flawless, each angle perfect. Even watching him fight was mesmerizing.
Aoyama wielded a kunai in one hand, his other fist punching with gale-like force, blowing Kakashi's hair back. One heavy strike landed squarely on Kakashi's shoulder.
Thud!
The body burst into smoke—another Shadow Clone. Kakashi had prepared multiple clones in advance, ready to substitute himself at any moment. Even his own clones could serve as sacrifices for his Substitution Jutsu.
It was brains against brawn. At first, Aoyama's raw power forced Kakashi back. But over time, Kakashi's sharp eye and flawless timing turned the tide. Several times, Aoyama's punches came dangerously close to being cut down by Kakashi's kunai.
Kakashi didn't even break a sweat. His voice was calm:
"So tell me, Aoyama. Did you become a missing-nin because you couldn't stomach the village's darkness? Or was killing that mission target just an excuse to leave?"
Clang! Clang!
Sparks flew as kunai clashed, neither able to wound the other.
Aoyama's voice was low and firm.
"Both. This rotten village disgusts me. And I won't end up like your father—a sacrifice to its darkness. I don't mind fighting for Konoha, even dying to defend it.
"But I'll never allow anyone to target me. That's why leaving was inevitable. A decaying, corrupt village is doomed to collapse. I've only seen it coming sooner than the rest."
Kakashi's Sharingan whirled, casting a genjutsu. Aoyama's body faltered, his mind briefly clouded.
Kakashi's voice was hard.
"Then there's nothing left to say. You've chosen the path of a missing-nin. That gives me the right to kill you—for the sake of the village's peace and stability. If I can't bring you back, then I'll cut you down."
His kunai slashed more fiercely, knocking Aoyama's blade aside and striking with force that tore the weapon from his hand.
But at that exact moment, Aoyama's fist surged upward in an uppercut.
BAM!
It smashed into Kakashi's chin, sending him flying skyward.
Aoyama sneered.
"Kill me? Do you really think you can? You're not the genius you once were. The Sharingan is dragging you down. How much chakra do you even have left to spend?"
If it were Hiruzen Sarutobi speaking those words, Aoyama might have believed it. But Kakashi? Every time he used two or three jutsu, he was already gasping for breath. Large-scale techniques were out of the question—just using them risked collapse.