reborn as Sakumo Hatake

Sakumo stood atop the Hokage Rock, the village sprawling out before him in the golden light of dawn. The crisp morning air carried the faint hum of activity as shinobi and civilians began their day. For a fleeting moment, he allowed himself to admire the beauty of Konoha—a village he was determined to protect, even if it meant rewriting the very fabric of history. 

He traced the outline of the scarred land beyond the walls. The faint memories of war—Sakumo's memories—lingered in his mind. They were a heavy reminder of what was to come: the Third Great Ninja War. 

*I have to be proactive,* he thought, clenching his fists. *Waiting for tragedy to strike isn't an option.* 

---

Later that morning, Sakumo found himself at the strategy meeting in the Hokage Tower. It was a room filled with seasoned shinobi—leaders, strategists, and tacticians—each with years of experience etched into their faces. 

Hiruzen Sarutobi, the Third Hokage, sat at the head of the table, his calm but commanding presence setting the tone. He nodded at Sakumo as he entered, a subtle gesture of trust that Sakumo didn't take lightly. 

"We've had several reports of increasing activity along our borders," Hiruzen began. "The Hidden Stone and Hidden Cloud are both mobilizing troops. While there's no indication of an immediate attack, we must be prepared for the worst." 

The room buzzed with murmurs as the shinobi exchanged glances. Sakumo remained silent, absorbing the information. 

One of the older jonin, a man named Hanza, spoke up. "We should increase patrols and fortify our supply routes. If they're planning anything, we need to be ready." 

"Agreed," Hiruzen said. "But we must also avoid provoking them unnecessarily. Our actions should be defensive, not aggressive." 

Sakumo leaned forward, his voice calm but firm. "With all due respect, Hokage-sama, I believe we should focus on intelligence gathering. Patrols are important, but they can only react to what's already in motion. If we can gather intel from within their ranks, we can act preemptively." 

The room fell silent as all eyes turned to him. 

"And how do you propose we do that?" Hanza asked, his tone skeptical. 

Sakumo met his gaze evenly. "By deploying infiltration teams skilled in covert operations. We have shinobi capable of blending into any environment—spies who can gather information without leaving a trace." 

Hiruzen stroked his beard thoughtfully. "A valid point. Do you have anyone in mind for such missions?" 

Sakumo hesitated. He hadn't anticipated the question, but a name came to mind almost immediately: **Minato Namikaze**. The young prodigy hadn't yet earned his moniker as the Yellow Flash, but Sakumo knew he had the potential to reshape battles single-handedly. 

"Minato Namikaze," Sakumo said. "His precision and tactical mind make him an ideal candidate." 

The Hokage's eyebrows rose slightly, but he nodded. "An interesting choice. I'll consider it." 

The meeting continued, but Sakumo couldn't shake the weight of his suggestion. He had taken his first step toward influencing the future, but the ripples of his actions could lead to unforeseen consequences. 

---

Later that evening, Sakumo returned home to find Kakashi training in the courtyard. The boy was practicing a series of taijutsu movements, his small frame moving with a grace and precision that belied his age. 

Sakumo watched quietly for a moment, a sense of pride swelling in his chest. But beneath it was a lingering sense of unease. 

*Kakashi is already so strong,* he thought. *But strength alone won't protect him from the pain that's coming.* 

"Kakashi," he called, stepping into the courtyard. 

The boy paused mid-movement, turning to face his father. "Yes, Father?" 

"Show me what you've been working on," Sakumo said, gesturing for him to continue. 

Kakashi nodded, launching into a sequence of strikes and dodges. His movements were fluid and controlled, each strike landing with precision. 

When he finished, Sakumo clapped lightly. "Impressive. But you're relying too much on predictability. A skilled opponent will exploit that." 

Kakashi frowned slightly. "What should I do instead?" 

Sakumo smiled, stepping forward. "Adapt. Watch your opponent carefully and adjust your movements to counter theirs. Let's spar—I'll show you." 

The boy's eyes lit up with excitement as he assumed a ready stance. 

They sparred for several minutes, Sakumo deliberately holding back to guide Kakashi through the principles of adaptability. The boy was quick to learn, his movements becoming more unpredictable with each exchange. 

By the time they finished, Kakashi was breathing hard but smiling—a rare, genuine expression that warmed Sakumo's heart. 

"Thank you, Father," Kakashi said, bowing respectfully. 

Sakumo placed a hand on his son's shoulder, his voice soft. "You're going to become an incredible shinobi, Kakashi. But remember, strength isn't everything. Always value your comrades. They're what truly make a shinobi strong." 

Kakashi nodded, his expression thoughtful. 

---

That night, as Kakashi slept, Sakumo sat alone in his room, his tanto resting on the table before him. His thoughts drifted back to the god who had granted him this second chance. 

The ability to copy anything he observed was powerful—perhaps too powerful. The more he used it, the more he realized its potential to upset the balance of the world. 

He picked up the tanto, turning it over in his hands. Its blade gleamed in the moonlight, a symbol of the life he had chosen to protect. 

*What's the cost of rewriting history?* he wondered. *And am I willing to pay it?* 

---

The following day, Sakumo decided to test the limits of his ability further. He visited the training grounds, where several jonin were sparring. 

Among them was Daisuke, a skilled shinobi known for his mastery of wind-based jutsu. Sakumo watched from a distance, his eyes narrowing as Daisuke performed a series of hand signs and unleashed a powerful gust of wind that sliced through the training dummies. 

*Let's see if this works,* he thought, focusing intently on the technique. 

He mimicked the hand signs, feeling the chakra flow through his body. To his amazement, the same gust of wind erupted from his hands, cutting through the air with precision. 

Daisuke turned, his eyes widening. "Sakumo-san, was that… my technique?" 

Sakumo smiled faintly, masking his unease. "Just something I picked up." 

The other shinobi exchanged impressed murmurs, but Sakumo's mind was racing. 

*It's not just movements and instincts—I can copy jutsu too.* 

The realization was both thrilling and terrifying. This power was unlike anything he had ever imagined, but it came with a responsibility he couldn't ignore. 

As he left the training grounds, he glanced back at the sparring shinobi, a sense of determination settling over him. 

*If this power can save lives, then I'll use it. No matter the cost.*