The Double Standards of Fire

It felt like the sky itself was grieving.

Rain poured steadily, soft and cold, pattering against umbrellas and soaking into the ground with a kind of rhythm. Like the sky was mourning alongside them. Drops slid down the black fabric, hitting the muddy earth in tune with the silence that blanketed the crowd.

The people had gathered at the Hatake compound, not the main graveyard.

Sakumo Hatake, once hailed as the White Fang of Konoha, wasn't given a spot in the village's official shinobi memorial. Normally, someone of his status would have been buried there among the fallen heroes. The graveyard where the names of the honoured rested, where shinobi who had died for the village were remembered with pride.

But not him.

Because of the controversy surrounding his final mission, there had been protests. Whispers in the council hall. Angry voices in the streets. Some had even said he didn't deserve to be called a hero anymore. That one failure erased everything he had done.

So, he was denied the honour.

In Konoha, there were multiple graveyards. One for civilians, one for recognised shinobi, and private burial areas within each clan compound for their own. But the hero's graveyard… that was sacred. Reserved for those the village deemed worthy of its praise.

He wasn't buried among heroes. He was buried in silence, in the back of his family's compound. No ceremony. No grand memorial. Just quiet rain and quiet people.

But even without the title of hero, those who came… they remembered.

One of the older Hatake family members tossed the first handful of dirt into the grave. Then another. And another.

No one clapped. No one cheered. No one called him a hero.

Because apparently, heroes aren't allowed to break the rules.

Aizen spoke, barely above a whisper.

"They really buried him like this…"

His eyes drifted to Kakashi, standing completely still in the rain, no umbrella, his silver hair already soaked. He didn't flinch. He didn't move. Just stared blankly at the grave.

Aizen's chest tightened.

His voice came out low. Barely above a whisper.

"…Sorry I was late."

He stood there, fists clenched in frustration, shoes already soaked from the rain.

He should've gone to Tsunade earlier.

Should've just skipped that dumb mission. One day, just one damn day sooner, and maybe she could've talked to him. Maybe it would've helped. Maybe not.

But now… that maybe was gone.

He'd thought it through, too. Didn't want to draw attention, didn't want anyone questioning why he was suddenly so interested. So he waited, told himself it could wait just a little longer.

It was a calculated choice. Two goals. Save Sakumo, and get Tsunade to see him as someone who actually gave a damn.

Felt like the smart move at the time.

Now…

Now it felt like the biggest mistake he'd made.

"It wasn't your faul—"

Aizen cut her off. "No. It was mine. I should've come to you sooner. I should've tried harder to talk to Sakumo-san… even just once."

Tsunade went quiet.

She didn't know what to say. What could she say?

Even now, part of her still couldn't believe it.

Sakumo Hatake. Konoha's White Fang. Respected. Feared. Admired.

Gone, just like that.

Tsunade had seen a lot in her life. She'd buried friends, lost comrades, stared down death.

But this?

This rattled something deeper. Sakumo wasn't just strong. He was solid. Someone she looked up to, even if they didn't speak often.

She glanced at Aizen. So small, so serious. Carrying guilt he shouldn't have to.

Her gaze drifted over the gathering. The rain softened a little, but it hadn't stopped. Shinobi from different clans stood in silence, their expressions hard to read. Some solemn, some distant. Maybe a few pretending to care for appearances.

She caught sight of a few older veterans. Men and women who had fought beside Sakumo, people who should've known better.

Tsunade muttered under her breath, barely audible.

"…How come a kid understood what we adults couldn't?"

She didn't expect an answer.

And Aizen didn't offer one.

Instead, his eyes drifted to Kakashi, still standing alone in the rain, not even bothering with an umbrella.

Aizen's voice came out low, almost lost beneath the sound of falling rain.

"…Why was it okay for the Second Hokage to send his guards back to the village…? They called it the Will of Fire."

Tsunade heard him. Others didn't, but she did.

She turned her head slowly, eyes landing on the boy beside her.

Aizen didn't look up at her.

"If Sakumo-san saving his comrades makes him a traitor," he continued, "then… doesn't that make Tobirama-sama an even bigger traitor?"

His words hung heavy in the air.

He paused, letting it sink in.

"If the Second is still remembered as a hero… then why was Sakumo-san cursed for doing the same thing?"

He wasn't looking to argue. He wasn't after sympathy, either.

He just needed to say it.

Aizen didn't know why those words came out. Maybe they'd ruin whatever fragile trust he was building with Tsunade. Maybe she'd see it as disrespect. But right now? He didn't care.

It just felt like the truth, and someone had to say it.

He glanced up at her face. Calm. Composed. The kind of look people in power wore when they didn't want to show how much something hurt.

But Aizen could tell.

Even in that stillness, her silence said enough.

And that's when he knew he'd won his gamble.

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Mangekyou Sharingan abilities for tyrion