The pain was searing, almost unbearable—and yet, disturbingly, there lingered a strange, perverse after-sensation that made it worse. After a few stiff, awkward moments, Aoyama straightened up despite the burn, his voice cold:
"I believe your grandfather! "
Kakashi shrugged, unbothered. "My grandfather's been in the Pure Land for a long time. Want me to send you to chat with him? I'm sure you'd have plenty to talk about. After all, you and Obito used to be so good at helping old grannies cross the street."
"Cross the street, my ass! If I don't beat the crap out of you today, I'll start walking the long way around just to avoid you!"
"Oh? You said it yourself. My chakra's almost gone, but… for what's left of this fight, I think it's enough."
"Heh… you're really starting to piss me off. No wonder Obito could never get along with you. Since you think it's enough, then let me raise the stakes a little. You don't mind, do you?"
"Eight Gates Released Formation! Fourth Gate—The Gate of Pain, OPEN!"
Up to the third gate, the strain was minor. But opening the fourth was another matter. Chakra burst forth like floodwaters breaching a dam, flooding his body with reckless, destructive power.
Aoyama gritted his teeth as the surge hit him. His strength and speed leapt again in an explosive surge.
"…The Fourth Gate."
Kakashi's visible eye narrowed. "This is bad. But, Father… watch closely from the afterlife. I never abandoned the blade you left me. This time, I'll fight with the White Fang's swordsmanship you entrusted to me."
"…It's been too long."
Kakashi had once copied the techniques of Sunagakure's puppet masters. Now, from his fingertip stretched a thin thread of chakra, almost imperceptible, which wrapped around a discarded short blade lying on the ground.
With a flick, he drew the weapon into his hand. The metal was nicked and worn, but it would do. Without kunai, even a battered blade was invaluable.
Aoyama didn't interfere. He wanted to see it too—Kakashi with a blade in hand. For in his youth, Kakashi had not been the "Copy Ninja" of a thousand jutsu, but rather the proud heir of the White Fang's kenjutsu. His every strike had been sharp, decisive, cutting down foes with relentless pressure.
"You're really going to fight me with the White Fang's blade? Not sticking to ninjutsu and genjutsu with that Sharingan? Hmph. I wonder how much you still remember. If not, there are plenty of kunai on the ground. Don't let yourself get rusty."
But Aoyama wasted no time. With the Fourth Gate opened, his body was already taking damage. He launched himself forward like a cannonball, straight at Kakashi.
The Sharingan's three tomoe spun, capturing Aoyama's every move. Kakashi stepped forward, blade ready, calm as ever.
"…I won't disappoint you. Even after all these years—I've kept practicing, in secret."
Clang!
Steel met steel. Aoyama's kunai was caught and parried by Kakashi's short blade.
Aoyama's eyes flickered with surprise. He hadn't expected Kakashi to still possess such sharp kenjutsu after abandoning it for so long. Perhaps he had only relied on ninjutsu because he hadn't needed the blade… not because he'd truly let it go.
For Aoyama, it was moving to see. They had known each other for years, done missions together. To witness Kakashi finally draw his sword again meant he was stepping out of that shadow of the past.
That shadow traced back to when Kakashi led his first team: Obito Uchiha and Rin Nohara. Their mission had ended in tragedy—Obito crushed beneath the rocks of a cruel battlefield.
Later, Rin was made Jinchūriki of the Three-Tails by Kirigakure, meant to become a human bomb unleashed upon Konoha. And Kakashi, forced into the most brutal choice of his life… killed Rin with his own blade.
From that day, he had never drawn a sword again.
Aoyama pressed harder, pushing aside Kakashi's guard. "If Rin could see you now… she'd be happy. Even if we stand as enemies—I'm glad to see you wield a blade again."
Clash!
Steel rang out once more. But this time, their forearms collided, muscle against muscle, the impact echoing heavy in the air.
Kakashi's voice was low, uncertain. "…Rin, happy? Maybe. You're right, though—it's been a long time. Maybe… even Obito…"
Now, Obito wandered the world under the mask of "Tobi," gathering strong rogue ninja for his Eye of the Moon Plan, weaving schemes in Kirigakure, consumed by vengeance yet driven by his desperate dream: a world where Rin still lived. Even if it meant becoming the enemy of the entire shinobi world.
Unlike Obito, who sought to rewrite reality, Kakashi had drowned in despair, wasting his gifts and clinging to the past.
Their weapons broke apart, only to crash together again—shoulders slammed, foreheads cracked, then they separated once more, short blade and kunai flashing.
Aoyama's enhanced strength drove him on, heedless of pain. He ignored Kakashi's blade, stepping through the strike and driving a vicious kick into Kakashi's waist.
Thud!
Kakashi's body was sent flying.
Aoyama followed in a blur, his kunai descending like a hammer, aimed straight for Kakashi's skull.
Kakashi's pupil shrank, horror flashing in his eye. With no chakra left, and only a blade long abandoned now clutched in hand… how could he withstand the overwhelming force of the Fourth Gate?
It seemed the next moment would be his end.