The Celestial Copy - Chapter 11

[Hiashi Hyūga]

The room was quiet, except for the sound of his daughter’s breathing.

Hiashi sat perfectly still beside the bed. He had been there for hours, assuring himself that Hinata was safe.

Before, he trusted the Byakugan for that certainty. The all-seeing white eyes were the pride of his clan. But tonight, they had failed him. A single intruder had slipped through the grounds with impunity. The thought burned like acid, eating into his pride as both a father and the clan head.

Then he recalled what came next. 

The sight of a masked ANBU agent carrying Hinata in his arms. Rage had drowned out reason, propelling him forward to do whatever it took to save his child. And then the pressure hit, similar yet different to killing intent. It was more like a crushing, pure force of will, a presence that froze his body despite every desire to fight. He managed to fight through it with adrenaline, but now, in the quiet room, the memory unsettled him.

If that pressure fell on him again, without rage to fuel him, would he even move at all?

He clenched his fist, the knuckles turning white. It was one thing for the clan’s eyes to fail, but for his own body to be so easily stopped was an unforgivable sin. What good was being the clan head if he could be frozen in the one moment his daughter needed him most?

Such a weakness could not be allowed to remain. His power had to be an unbreakable line of defense for his family.

With this turmoil in his chest, Hiashi knew he could not face the elders. He needed counsel he could trust. There was only one person he trusted to hear him plainly.

He rose from his chair and left his daughter’s room. The path took him from the ornate halls of the main house, and toward the more spartan corridors of the branch family wing.

He slid the door to his brother’s quarters open without knocking. Surprisingly, Hizashi was not asleep either. He was sitting at a low table, staring at his son’s forehead with a tension that mirrored Hiashi’s own.

Hiashi paused for a moment. Neji was asleep, his face just as peaceful as Hinata’s, but the moonlight caught the lines of the seal that marked his destiny. 

“Hizashi,” he began. “I need to talk with you.”

“Of course, brother. That is your right.”

Hiashi recounted the story in a monotone voice that showed none of the terror he felt. 

Though when he got to describing the confrontation, he reframed it to preserve the pride of a clan head. “When I arrived, the situation was contained by an ANBU team. Their captain presented himself, and once I confirmed Hinata's safety, she was returned to my care. There was no need for any escalation.”

Hizashi’s expression was grim. “Our father will use this. He will argue that the Caged Bird Seal must be applied earlier, that this incident proves that the main family cannot be protected without a more vigilant sacrifice from the branch.”

“He will not,” Hiashi stepped closer, placing a hand on his twin brother’s shoulder. “This failure was mine as a parent, not the branch family’s. As clan head, I will take responsibility.” 

He paused, thinking about his earlier resolve. “Starting tomorrow, you and Neji will join Hinata’s training sessions. No more watching from the side. And if Neji happens to learn a technique or two from the main family’s forms… well, that is no one’s concern but our own.”

Hizashi’s eyes widened, but he quickly nodded. “Understood.”

With the understanding settled between them, Hiashi turned to leave. The short conversation with his brother had given him the clarity he needed.

Hinata’s training must be intensified. As the heiress of the clan, she would always be a target and must be given the strength to defend herself. Neji could also grow to become her protector.

As he walked back, his thoughts inevitably circled back to the most decisive element of the night: the masked ANBU.

It had not taken long to deduce the truth. A single Sharingan and silver hair that no one could mistake. There was only one shinobi who fit that description. 

The Hyūga did not bend the knee. But when the next Hokage was chosen, perhaps they would already be aligned.

------------------------------

The council meeting would begin in a few hours. Depending on what T&I found in the Head Ninja’s mind, war felt less like a possibility and more like an inevitability. 

I glanced across the training ground, watching my team move through their drills. They knew what was coming, too. And they also knew we would be the ones to take on the toughest missions.

My gaze settled on Yugao. She was sixteen, talented, but she would be the least prepared for the kind of high-level conflict I knew was on the horizon. My responsibility for her, for all of them, was a physical weight.

“Neko,” I called out, my voice cutting through the sounds of their training. “Come with me.”

She jogged over, her posture immediately attentive. “Sir?”

“I’m not much of a kenjutsu master,” I admitted as I led her to another side of the field where several thick training logs stood. “My blade work is an extension of my ninjutsu, a tool I use to end a fight as quickly as possible. But the principle of strengthening a blade with chakra is universal. That’s what I want to teach you.”

She nodded, holding her tanto a little differently.

I handed her a standard kunai. “For now, show me what you can do.”

She wrapped her fingers around the grip and let her chakra flow. Using my Sharingan, I could see a faint blue aura wrap itself around the kunai. She pulled back her arm and hurled it at a training log. The kunai struck deep, burying itself almost to the hilt.

Her control was good, showing she already knew the basics of chakra flow.

“It's effective,” I said, acknowledging her skill. “But it’s generic. You’re able to add more force, but you lack a specific direction.”

“What do you mean, sir?”

“Hold on, let me just show you.” I took out another kunai, mirroring what she had done except using a larger concentration of chakra so it would be visible. “This is what you were doing, but I think you can take it to the next level.” A low hiss filled the air as my chakra shifted, blue sparks crackling over the metal now. I tossed the kunai with around the same amount of force she had used. It pierced the log, and a split second later, the wood around the point of impact violently splintered outward, blown apart from the inside.

Yugao inhaled softly.

“And that’s just basic elemental infusion,” I explained. “I said before that my style is about combining ninjutsu with a blade, which is what your real goal should be.”

To show her the true potential, I reached for the White Light Chakra Sabre strapped across my back. The air itself seemed to vibrate as I charged a Chidori through the blade. In a single, blindingly fast motion, I cut through the thick log. The top half fell away, smoking where the cut had burned it.

I turned back to Yugao. Her tanto trembled in her grip, and I could see her eyes wide from the eyeholes in her mask.

“That’s the pinnacle of what I can do with my lightning,” I said, sliding the saber back into place. “So, let’s try to find out what you can do. First, what’s your affinity? And what do you think we can do with it?”

Still processing what she’d just witnessed, her voice was a little shaky. “Wind. It... it can make the blade sharper.”

“That’s a good base. But don’t stop there. Think deeper. Think of it as a force of nature.”

She fell silent, dropping her gaze to her tanto. Slowly, she raised the blade and executed a perfect slash through the empty air.

I let her take as much time as she needed. This was an abstract concept; the answer isn’t always obvious.

After a few more slashes, she looked back at me. “Wind cuts… but it also travels. If I swing, maybe the wind chakra could keep going. A slash that carries forward. Or a thrust that bursts from the tip.”

“An interesting idea. Let’s build a mental image for it” I said, validating her thought process. My goal was to help her find her own style, not to make copies of myself.  “Imagine your blade is projecting an invisible edge of pure wind, several inches past the metal. A blade that can’t be fully blocked because the cutting edge is longer than they can see. Or imagine a thrust that unleashes a focused blast of wind from the tip, like a cannon.”

She hesitantly shook her head. “But my elemental mastery isn’t strong enough for that. I can’t even picture how to make chakra hold its shape so far from the blade.” She paused, then took a step forward, her voice earnest. “Could you show me? With your lightning, I guess. I need to see the principle of it, like how you project it so I can try to visualize it myself.”

“Sure, but I’ll use wind. It might not be my primary element, but it’ll give you a better image.”

I brought my saber back out and channeled wind chakra into it. A shimmering green aura flickered to life, more unstable than when I used Chidori Blade, but it got the job done. I swung, releasing the chakra in an arc. A green crescent of wind shot forward about a meter before it dissipated into a harmless gust.

“So the two main challenges are how far it goes and how long it holds,” Yugao murmured, more to herself than to me. “If the wind chakra doesn’t reach far enough, it’s wasted. If it doesn’t stay on the blade long enough, it loses strength. That’s what needs to be fixed, right?”

Impressive, she immediately figured out the problem.

“Exactly. My attempt was unstable. The wind didn't hold its form. But you have an affinity for the element, so you’ll be able to use it.”

She looked down at her tanto, brushing the flat of it with her thumb. “I’ll need to train my elemental control to even get close to that.”

“You’ll surpass me when you do.”

She looked back at me, her voice filled with determination. “I won't let you down, sir.”

I reached out and rested a hand on her head for a moment. “Don't hesitate to ask for help if you need it.”

For a short moment, she didn’t move. “Thank you, sir.”

I let my hand fall and gave her space. “Alright, get to it, Neko.”

She bowed her head once and turned back toward the logs, holding her tanto tighter. The way she carried herself was steadier now.

Moments later, Tenzo jogged up to me with his raccoon mask tilted upwards. “We just finished a spar. I managed to win against Okami and Kuma by myself.”

I inclined my head. “Not bad.”

His gaze drifted to where Yugao carefully channeled chakra into her blade. 

“She trains the hardest,” he murmured.

“She has to. She’s in a difficult position. Being the youngest in a squad is never easy, but the age gap isn’t the real issue. The problem is who she’s being compared to.”

Tenzo’s gaze shifted from Yugao to me. “Right. She probably thinks there’s no excuse if we’re this strong already. But she’s ignoring that we’re the exceptions. I trained under Lord Danzo for most of my life. Mumei was part of Orochimaru’s team. And you’re,” he gestured vaguely at me. “…you.”

“It’s a hard shadow to grow in. But with the way she’s pushing herself, she’ll become a fearsome kunoichi sooner or later.”

“I’ll help her out too. My wood woul—gah!”

“You okay?”

“Bit my tongue,” he muttered, recovering quickly. “My wood… would be a good target for her to train against. It’s sturdier than the training logs.”

“I’m sure she’ll appreciate that.”

He paused, then his expression turned serious. “Captain, that’s not the only reason I came to talk to you.”

I turned my full attention to him. “You’ve put the pieces together, then?”

He nodded. “You’re thinking about what happens if this turns into war, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, and I’m worried about it. Especially their Jinchuriki. The Cloud has Perfect Jinchuriki, with full control over their Tailed Beasts.” I let out a slow breath. “Naruto is just a child. He’s years away from even beginning that kind of training. If it comes to a battle with a Tailed Beast, I have a feeling that dealing with them will fall to us.”

I looked at the rest of my team training in the distance. “I’m not afraid to fight them. But I know not everyone on this team can fight a battle on that scale.”

“Then we’ll take them down together. Don’t carry that weight alone, Kakashi.” Tenzo’s voice was filled with a conviction I had never heard from him. “My Wood Style can suppress a Tailed Beast’s chakra. If it comes to it, I’ll be there to bind them while you strike.”

Thanks, Tenzo.

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I was the first to arrive in the council chamber.

The room was small with two armchairs and two sofas arranged around a table. I took one of the empty chairs, ensuring I wouldn’t have to share a sofa with Danzo or either of the two worthless fossils.

This was where the fate of the village was decided. Where wars were started and ended with words before the first kunai was ever thrown. The next time a decision this important was made, I might not even have a seat at this table. Which meant I had to make this one count.

Realistically, the Cloud was likely the strongest of the five great nations right now. Their Jinchuriki were both in control of their Tailed Beasts, and their Raikage was a man whose power made armies think twice. But we weren’t pushovers either.

My training session with Guy earlier today revealed more about my new perk than I initially realized. Take It Head On provided a stable foundation for some of my more volatile techniques. My incomplete Lightning Chakra Mode was now far more controlled, to the point where I think I could eventually make it better than the Raikage’s version. Also, there was no backlash when I opened the First Gate. With enough time and training, sustaining the Third or even Fourth Gate with minimal consequences was a tangible goal.

So where does that leave me against their Jinchuriki? I’m confident I could beat Yugito Nii. But Killer B is another problem.

Still, there were other ways to shore up my abilities. Like completing the Rasengan. While doing that in the short timeframe I have would be impossible, I could use Naruto's shadow clone shortcut. With it, I could develop five S-rank Jutsus, one for each elemental nature. I might even throw Kirin in there. That would be an arsenal capable of taking on a Tailed Beast.

So yes, if it came to an open war, we would win. 

But at what cost? Even if I could personally turn the tide of several major battles, what about the people who’d follow me? How many of Team Ro would I be dragging to their deaths? How many of my friends? The Memorial Stone already has too many names engraved onto it. I don’t want to add more if there’s another way.

The door creaked open, interrupting my thoughts.

Danzo stepped inside and stopped a foot away from my chair. His single eye slid over me with contempt.

“Hiruzen grows bolder in his sentimentality,” he said, his voice a low rasp. “To invite a child to a discussion of war.”

I let my eye curve upward, though the expression held no warmth. “Maybe he thinks the village needs a leader who can still see with both eyes.”

That might not have been a good retort, considering we both had a Sharingan.

Before he could reply, the door opened again. 

A matched set of rigid traditions draped in robes walked in this time. They offered no greeting, simply moving to one of the sofas with stiff formality.

After another minute, the door opened one last time. 

The Third Hokage surveyed us all, then finally took the last remaining seat.

He didn’t waste a second.

“I have convened this emergency council because an act of aggression was committed against our village last night. The Head Ninja of the Kumo delegation, under the cover of a peace treaty, infiltrated the Hyūga compound and attempted to kidnap the clan heiress.”

No one looked surprised. 

“The perpetrator was captured alive. Inoichi Yamanaka has performed a complete mental read. The findings are unequivocal,” Hiruzen paused, looking at each of us in the eye before continuing. “This was not the act of a rogue agent. It was a sanctioned operation, ordered by the Fourth Raikage himself. The peace treaty was a cover for their true objective: to steal the Byakugan.”

Danzo’s voice was the first to rise after the Hokage’s announcement. He struck the floor with his cane before speaking. “This is a declaration of war in all but name. We should treat it as such. If we do not retaliate, we teach the world that the Leaf can be violated without consequence. The only suitable response is full mobilization.”

He turned slightly toward Hiruzen, his expression unreadable. “In this situation, our peace must be built on strength. There is no other option.”

“On this, he is not wrong. The betrayal cannot go unanswered. To do so would be to forfeit our place as one of the great powers.” Koharu followed swiftly. “The Cloud must be forced to make a concession so absolute that no one will ever question our strength again. They must surrender the Two-Tails Jinchuriki into our custody. As a ward of peace.”

Homura inclined his head in agreement, though his tone was more measured. “A bold demand, yes, but one fitting the gravity of the insult. If Tobirama-sensei were here, he would not hesitate to make such a claim. He understood that deterrence is the foundation of peace.”

Well that wasn’t good. I could already feel the council coming close to a consensus.

Hiruzen let the silence hang for a moment before turning his gaze to me. “Kakashi. You are one of the few active shinobi who will be expected to operate at a level where such threats are a consideration. What do you think of these plans?”

I addressed the proposals without emotion, dissecting them with cold logic. “Lord Danzo’s call for a preemptive strike is sound in principle. However, the Cloud possesses two perfected Jinchuriki. Our one is a child who hasn’t even begun his training. A war with them would be a war of attrition against tailed beasts. Even if we win, the cost in lives and resources would weaken the village for years, leaving us vulnerable to attacks from the other villages.”

“Your assessment is overly cautious, boy,” Koharu interjected, her voice carrying condescension. “You speak as if this village has never faced such threats. We have fought wars on multiple fronts before and emerged victorious. Have you forgotten the strength of the Leaf? Or perhaps it would be more fitting to say you never knew it.”

I kept my voice even. “I have forgotten nothing. But the legendary shinobi who were instrumental in winning those wars are no longer with us. The Sannin are fractured. My father is gone. And my sensei died to stop a different tailed beast attack.”

The names were a reminder that I was connected to two legends.

I then turned my attention to her proposal. “And your own plan, while politically potent, leads to the same outcome as Lord Danzo’s. A Jinchuriki is a village's ultimate deterrent. No Kage can surrender such an asset and retain their position or their village’s security. To demand such a concession is to demand their unconditional surrender. The only possible answer they could give is refusal, followed by war.”

Homura leaned forward, his expression stern. “You offer nothing but criticism, Hatake. If you believe yourself wiser than this council, then offer your own solution.”

“We will weaponize the truth. We don’t need to fight a war, because the Cloud cannot afford for the truth of this incident to become public knowledge.” I let that idea settle before elaborating. “Imagine the reaction in the Lightning Daimyo’s court when they find out that the Raikage sanctioned such a dishonorable operation. An operation that was not only treacherous but also a complete failure, resulting in their Head Ninja being captured alive. The Raikage would be seen as a warmonger and an incompetent one at that.”

I concluded my proposal, “Therefore, we offer them only one thing: our silence. In exchange for keeping this embarrassing failure a secret, they will agree to a revised peace treaty. One that favors us.”

Hiruzen gave an approving nod. “Kakashi’s assessment is correct. We will renegotiate this treaty from a position of absolute power. We will demand territorial concessions along our shared border, a permanent reduction in the Cloud’s border forces, and massive economic reparations. We will even provide them with a cover story. They will publicly take responsibility for a ‘minor border skirmish,’ admitting to a lesser fault. They will be forced to bow their heads, but the world will not know the full reason why.”

For a moment, I thought the matter was settled.

Then Danzo spoke again.

“A brilliant plan, Hatake. And your operational report was flawless. Perhaps too flawless,” he turned his lone eye on me. “How did you know precisely where the Head Ninja would be? What prior intelligence did you possess that you have not shared with this council? Your rescue of the child was quite theatrical. One could imagine a scenario in which they were arranged.”

It was obvious to me what he was trying to do. Since he couldn’t win with logic, especially when I had the Hokage on my side, he resorted to attacking my credibility. If he could plant a seed of doubt in the minds of the other elders, he would be able to pull them back to a more aggressive stance.

Although it was ironic that he wasn’t entirely wrong. I did know exactly what was going to happen.

Still, to treat it as anything other than absurd would give it legitimacy. 

“I’m not sure I understand your insinuation, Lord Danzo. My team simply followed standard surveillance protocol. We observed a high-value target moving suspiciously and took appropriate action. It is the very foundation of what we do.” 

Then I tilted my head. “Perhaps the better question is, if you had been in my position, would you have simply trusted a foreign ninja to wander our village unobserved?”

Danzo narrowed his eye. “You overstep your position, Hatake! This situation is a betrayal that demands blood, not ink!”

“Enough.” Hiruzen’s voice cut cleanly through the room. “This is an advisory council, Danzo. Your counsel has been heard. But the final decision rests with the Hokage” He looked from Danzo to the elders, then back to me. “My decision is made. We will present the Cloud with terms for a revised treaty in private. This matter is concluded.”

Homura and Koharu rose from their seats, their expressions unreadable. They offered a formal bow to the Hokage and filed out of the room without another word. Danzo lingered for a moment longer. He paused at the door, his gaze locked onto us.

“Let us hope this ‘peace’ of yours does not cost us more than a war would have, Hiruzen.”

Then he was gone.

The tension in the room vanished with him. Hiruzen let out a weary breath and reached for his pipe, the familiar scent of tobacco slowly filling the space.

“You handled yourself well, Kakashi.” His voice lost its edge. “Wouldn’t you agree facing allies at this table is much different than facing enemies on the battlefield?”

“I only offered my perspective as a shinobi.” 

And it was easier since I didn’t consider those people my allies.

A warm knowing smile touched Hiruzen’s lips. “I will not keep you any longer. I am sure you would like to continue training with your comrades.”

He dismissed me with an appreciative nod.