Naruto: Kakashi of the spider sage

"Sensei," Kakashi said as he lay on his back by the fire, staring at the flickering flames, "can I ask you something?"

The Spider Sage, lounging casually on the other side of the fire, glanced at him with an amused expression. "Sure, go ahead."

"You mentioned before that you were seaand with the pacing adjusted for clarity. Let me know if it aligns with what you're envisioning.led away," Kakashi began, his tone cautious yet curious. "I mean, no offense, but you're ridiculously strong. You even called the other Great Sages weaklings, and the only person I've ever heard you show even a little respect for was the First Hokage—and even then, you called him a freak. So, who could have sealed you away? And… why?"

The sage chuckled, the firelight reflecting off his many eyes. "When did I show respect to that freak?" he mused. "Well, maybe I did. Hashirama was a freak in every sense when it came to strength. In a one-on-one battle, I could see a slim chance of losing to him—not that it would've been easy for him. In a way, I suppose he was worthy of respect. After all, he alone achieved feats in his lifetime that most beings couldn't in a thousand years."

He paused, letting his words settle before continuing. "But that wasn't your question. To answer it, we have to go back—way back. A thousand years ago, before humans had chakra, before the Sage of Six Paths even existed."

Kakashi shifted slightly, sensing a story worth hearing.

"Back then," the sage continued, "there were four friends: a snake, a frog, a slug, and a spider." He smirked. "I'll keep this short and simple since there are parts you're not meant to know. These four were as close as friends could be. They trained together, sparred together, and taught one another their secrets. True friends, if you like to call it that."

Kakashi raised an eyebrow. "You don't sound too fond of this 'friendship.'"

The sage ignored the comment and went on. "One day, a new friend appeared—someone from a faraway place. This newcomer was different. Strange. He barely spoke but somehow got along well enough with us. Things were good for a while… until the frog received a prophecy.

"The prophecy foretold that this new friend would bring disaster to the world. The frog, being the uptight little seer he always was, suggested we kill him. The snake, ever ambitious, agreed. The slug, as usual, remained neutral. But I, the spider, liked our new friend. He was interesting, unlike the others. I pleaded with them to spare him, but my pleas only escalated things. It turned into an all-out battle between us."

The sage's voice grew quieter, tinged with a mix of nostalgia and bitterness. "The snake and frog together weren't a match for me. But just when I thought I'd won, the slug appeared… holding our new friend hostage. I realized I had no choice. To save him, I suggested a compromise: I would be sealed alongside him, in exchange for sparing his life. After some negotiation and a lot of bluffing, they agreed. That's how I ended up here, a thousand years later."

Kakashi sat up slightly, his eyes narrowing. "So that's why you hate them."

"I don't hate them," the sage replied, shaking his head. "I know the frog's prophecies are usually true, at least for the most part. Their choice was logical, and I was the unreasonable one. But meh," he shrugged, "as you once said, I did what I believed in, and I did it to the fullest. I don't regret it. My friend is still alive, and a thousand years later, the world hasn't ended. So, it wasn't all for nothing."

Kakashi smiled at the sage's words, finding unexpected encouragement in them. "Well, it's time for my meditation. Goodnight, sensei."

"Goodnight, kid," the sage replied, watching as Kakashi lay down and closed his eyes.

Once Kakashi was asleep, the sage rose from his spot and made his way to the throne room. The massive chamber was eerily silent, the air thick with an ancient, almost oppressive energy. He settled onto his ornate throne, tilting his head back to stare at the ceiling. A warm smile spread across his face.

"Hey," he said softly, as if speaking to the empty room, "I think it's time we finally talk."

There was no response, only the echo of his words.

"It's been more than a thousand years," he continued. "If you won't speak, at least listen. Did you know a kid was reverse-summoned to my cave? Strange, isn't it? I could've sworn there was no summoning scroll for this place. What's more, I didn't see it coming—not a single vision of him in my foresight."

For a moment, the silence stretched on, heavy and impenetrable. Then, a deep, monstrous voice rumbled through the chamber.

"You and your prophecies again," it said.

The sage smirked, leaning back in his throne. "Ah, so you can still talk. And you know better than anyone that my visions come directly from destiny itself. What I see will happen. That's why this kid fascinates me. His arrival breaks the very flow of destiny. The frog's prophecies only scratch the surface, relying on nature chakra to glimpse the future. But this... this is something greater."

The voice remained silent for a long moment before speaking again. "What do you want from me?"

"Didn't you hear me? He has a summoning scroll. If you contract with him, you can leave this place. You could be free."

The voice growled, its tone dismissive. "You're a fool. My freedom would only hasten the prophecy. That frog's vision would come true the moment I step outside."

"If I'm a fool, then you're a coward," the sage snapped. "Do you remember what you told me when you first arrived in this world? 'When you do something, do it to the best of your ability, and never regret the results.' Those words are the foundation of my Sage Art. And now you're telling me you're afraid to act because of a prophecy? Pathetic."

The voice didn't respond, but the sage smirked, leaning forward slightly. "I hope you fall for it," he thought, his provocation lingering in the air.

Standing, he stretched and let out a contented sigh. "When the kid finishes his training, I'll send him to you. Be nice to him, Defane."

With that, he left the throne room, leaving the ancient silence to reclaim its place.