Tale of the Setting Sun.

Arc 3: Wave Arc I

Chapter 18: "Day of Departure"

Huff...huff...

His lungs felt like they were on fire and his vision was starting to blur, but the man, gritting his teeth, continued to leap across the tree branches. Dark-toned and dressed in nondescript black clothes, he blended almost perfectly into the darkness of the night. The only thing that gave him away was the frayed scroll clutched in his hands that gleamed white under the stray rays of moonlight that interrupted the shade of the forest canopy. His heart thudding loudly in his chest, as sweat streamed down his face, the man cautiously looked behind him.

He was alone.

Letting out a tiny sigh of relief, the man felt some of the tension leaving his muscles. As the hot blood coursing through his veins began to slow down, he suddenly realized that the wind blowing strongly against his face was cold. At the thought, he slightly lowered his pace, letting himself catch his breath.

The rumors were true, then. Konohagakure's security, once renowned as an impassable steel wall that blocked out all intruders, was no longer what it used to be. The past fifteen years had not been kind to the village after all – their most famous trio, the Sannin, had left the village, and in the invasion of the Nine-Tails, they'd lost their Yondaime Hokage, leaving behind the increasingly decrepit Sandaime to try and rebuild the village.

He looked around – but there was still nothing, besides the occasional rustling of squirrels and birds lower down.

His lips edged up in a triumphant smile. For a man past his prime, the Sandaime hadn't done such a shabby job, but the village's strength was nowhere near what it'd been at its peak. He hadn't even been questioned at the village entrance; the chūnin on gate duty had glanced at him once and then waved him in. Breaking into the Archives had been just as easy, using a simple genjutsu to trick the chūnin at the desk into thinking he'd already left, and then slipping out just as the guards changed shifts.

However, despite how smoothly the operation was going, the man had still grown antsy – he was in a ninja village after all, regardless of how much it'd fallen from its former glory – and almost slipped up when he was leaving the village.

Just as he stepped into line behind several civilians at the exit gate, the entrance gate had creaked open to allow another stream of people in, and then the on-duty chūnin raised a hand in greeting. "Another successful mission? Good job."

"Ah, I didn't do much this time," said a deep voice.

"Sure, sure. Oh – Hokage-sama wants you in his office right away, Kakashi."

"Got it."

At the sound of the infamous name, the man had frozen – could it be the Copy Ninja himself? – and slowly turned his head to see. When he saw the infamous silver hair and hitai-ate draped over the left eye, he swore to himself. He knew the mission had been going far too easily; it'd only been a matter of time for an unexpected setback. But it was just his luck to run into one of Konoha's most famous jōnin right as he was about to leave...

Forcing himself to stay calm, he'd looked away. His eyes landing on a shorter red-headed boy beside the jōnin, his pounding heartbeat had slowly grown steadier. However, the boy must have felt his gaze, for he looked up and locked eyes with him – and for a second, he could have sworn that the boy knew exactly what he was and why he was there. But as the man felt a cold bead of sweat drip from his temple, the boy then looked away. The duo passed by, and the chūnin waved him out – and he was home free.

Despite his success, he'd felt uneasy after seeing the Copy Ninja right under his nose, and he'd booked it as soon as the walls were out of sight. But now, it seemed that truly nobody in the village had noticed his intrusion. And even if they did find out, it was too late now to catch up to him, since he'd taken care even in his haste to cover up his tracks.