Qianyu spotted Kakashi among the sea of newly-minted genin. His mind, previously calm, began to stir with a new possibility.
Originally, taking a disciple from a major clan had been out of the question. Too many entanglements. Too much baggage.
But Hatake Kakashi… that might be a different story.
Next year, Sakumo's mission failure would happen. The condemnation, the court of public opinion would descend. Kakashi wouldn't escape the fallout. Then Sakumo's suicide… that would be the boy's turning point. The crucible.
If Kakashi were his disciple by then, adrift in that moment of profound turmoil… perhaps he could be guided. Shaped into a true asset.
And the Hatake clan? It was just Sakumo and the boy now. Hardly a proper clan anymore. The risks were minimal.
The vice-principal's voice droned on, announcing team assignments.
"Jonin Minato Namikaze. His genin team: Obito Uchiha, Rin Nohara, and Hatake—"
"Hold it."
Qianyu's voice cut through the hall. Sharp. Clear. Every head turned.
He walked, unhurried, through the crowd until he stood before the silver-haired boy. Kakashi looked up, his single visible eye narrowing slightly behind his mask. The vice-principal had just said 'Hatake.' His sensei was supposed to be Minato. What did this man want?
"I'm considering taking you as my disciple," Qianyu stated, no preamble, no pleasantries. "What do you say? Accept?"
Kakashi stared. Blinked. This was… abrupt. More than abrupt. His brow knit faintly behind the cloth.
He was only here because his father, Sakumo, had insisted. War had made Kakashi mature too quickly, leaving him without a single friend. Sakumo hoped joining a team with a jonin leader would change that. But Kakashi didn't care about friends. He only cared about the mission.
But a disciple? That was different. A bond of legacy. A serious commitment.
He couldn't agree. Not to a man he knew nothing about.
And yet… his interest was piqued. This man had picked him out instantly from the crowd. Kakashi was certain they'd never met.
"How can you make me stronger?" Kakashi challenged, his voice flat. "We've never even met."
Qianyu's finger pointed not at Kakashi's face, but at his hands. The hands calloused from endless training. "You've been practicing Thunder Breathing, haven't you? I'm the one who gave that to the Leaf. My version is beyond what anyone else here has. My master is one of the Legendary Sannin, Orochimaru. Becoming my disciple wouldn't be a step down for you, would it?"
A disciple of Orochimaru. That… carried weight. It was a legitimate point.
Still. Kakashi hesitated. It was all too sudden.
"You don't have to decide now," Qianyu said, reading the conflict. "See what I can do first. Then decide. Meet me in the woods east of the village. I'll wait two hours."
He cast a final glance towards Obito Uchiha, who was practically vibrating with joy at being placed on a team with Rin Nohara under Minato's command. Then Qianyu turned and walked out, leaving a stunned silence in his wake.
The vice-principal cleared his throat. "Kakashi. Do you wish to pursue this with Qianyu, or remain assigned to Minato's team? You may go after him now. If you decline his offer, return here, and you will be placed on Minato's team as originally planned."
Kakashi didn't need to think. "I'll go see him."
He caught up to Qianyu before the man had even left the school grounds. Qianyu hadn't doubted he would come. A boy who craved strength would always take such a chance. There was nothing to lose.
"What about Thunder Breathing?" Kakashi asked, urgency finally breaking through his usual monotone as he fell into step beside Qianyu. "It's incomplete, isn't it?"
During his training, Kakashi had always felt a… stutter. A jarring, awkward hitch in the flow of the technique. Like a key piece was missing.
Qianyu looked at him sideways, genuinely surprised. The kid had good instincts. "What makes you say that?"
"It feels stunted. Wrong. Like there's a gap in the middle of the movement."
"The version I gave the Leaf," Qianyu confirmed, "was a prototype. Unfinished. I've since perfected it."
"Will you show me?"
A small, almost imperceptible shake of Qianyu's head. "No."
Kakashi was smart. He understood immediately. "Only if I become your disciple."
"Correct. It's my secret technique now."
Kakashi fell silent, digesting this. He'd follow. He'd see this man's power. Then he'd decide.
They reached the eastern woods—the same woods where Qianyu had first unleashed the completed Thunder Breathing under the system's guidance years ago. Time and regrowth had softened the scars, but faint traces of that old, violent testing ground remained.
"Show me your Thunderclap and Flash first," Qianyu ordered.
Kakashi didn't hesitate. He dropped into the stance, body coiling like a spring. "Thunder Breathing, First Form: Thunderclap and Flash!"
Lightning chakra surged into his foot. He exploded forward. The sound of crackling energy followed him. A flash of silver, a sharp shink of a blade being drawn and sheathed in one motion. A deep gash appeared on a tree trunk.
Qianyu had seen Leaf ninja use this move in the Land of Hot Water. They were, to put it mildly, embarrassing. Kakashi's was the best he'd seen. But that wasn't saying much.
It was just chakra-enhanced speed. The 'thunder' was just the sound of the chakra itself, not the true, air-rending sonic boom of a perfected technique.
"Well?" Kakashi asked, a thread of expectation in his voice. He knew he was good.
"Passable," Qianyu said, his tone flat.
Even with the mask, the distinct droop to Kakashi's small face was palpable.
"Then let me see yours," the boy demanded.
Qianyu gave a single, slight nod. This was the whole point.
He settled into the same stance. But the air around him changed. Crackled. The ground beneath his feet depressed, earth compacting under sudden, immense pressure.
Then—lightning. Not just crackles, but brilliant, snapping arcs of raw energy wreathing his form.
"Thunder Breathing, First Form: Thunderclap and Flash!"
The world seemed to hiccup.
There was no drawn-out burst. Just a single, impossible compression of motion and sound. A violent BOOM that wasn't chakra, but air being torn. A searing white line cut across the forest.
Qianyu was simply… elsewhere. Standing fifty meters away, his blade held casually at his side.
Behind him, with a groan of splintering wood, a massive oak tree—one that would take three men to encircle—toppled. The cut surface was smooth as glass, steaming slightly.
Kakashi's jaw went slack behind his mask. He stared, wide-eyed, at the devastation. At the man who had caused it with a single, foundational move.
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