W H I T E // Naruto X Rwby

Whitley slammed the door of his room, frustration evident in his posture. The sudden shift in Rinko's demeanor left him baffled; it was as if a switch had flipped overnight. 

He jumped onto his bed, flopping face-first onto his pillow and burying his face deep within its soft embrace. The muffled world around him offered little solace as he wrestled with his thoughts, replaying their encounter over and over in his mind.

Why had Rinko been so different? The words, the attitude—nothing about it made sense. Whitley's heart raced as he tried to process it all. He even apologized to him, leaving Wheatley at a loss for how to respond.

Of course, he didn't know how to react. Rinko's past actions and hurtful words had been nerve-wracking, each one a reminder of the sibling rivalry that had long defined their relationship. Just the thought of it boiled Whitley's blood.

'You'll never be good enough. You're a disappointment, Whitley.' Rinko's voice echoed hauntingly in his thoughts.

"Tch..." Whitley clutched his pillow, frustration welling up inside him.

But that anger soon dissipated as he recalled Kakashi's earlier words.

'I want to apologize. For everything I've said and done to you in the past. I've been selfish, and I realize now that I've hurt you in ways I shouldn't have.' Those words resonated deeply within Whitley. He had longed to hear them from Kakashi since they were young, but he never imagined this moment would come.

'...And maybe it's time I started acting like a proper sibling instead of just another rival.'

This realization hit Whitley hard.

His chest tightened as uncontrollable tears flowed from his eyes, and he clutched his pillow even tighter, overwhelmed by a mix of relief and sorrow.

It felt as if a weight he had carried for years was beginning to lift, replaced by a flicker of hope that perhaps their relationship could be mended after all.

He rose from his bed, wiping the tears from his face, frustration mixing with confusion.

"Why can't I stop crying...?" he whispered to himself, feeling the shame wash over him.

Whitley had always viewed himself as the lesser Rinko, constantly measuring himself against an impossible standard.

The older brother who had once degraded him now stood before him, ready to apologize. The contrast felt surreal, like a dream he couldn't quite grasp.

The whirlwind of emotions swirled within him—anger, disbelief, and an unexpected glimmer of hope.

It was something he never thought he'd experience: the chance for reconciliation with the very person who had made him feel inadequate for so long.

With a groan, he turned his head. The silence of his room pressed in on him, amplifying his confusion.

"What's going on with you, Rinko?" he mumbled to himself. The weight of the questions hung heavy in the air, and he found himself missing the familiar arrogance that Rinko used to flaunt. Would he ever understand what was happening?

Next Day, Noon.

Kakashi finished reading the last of his history books, gently closing it as fatigue washed over him.

This body, Rinko's body, was clearly not accustomed to rigorous workouts; it felt weak and out of shape.

As he leaned back in his chair, Kakashi was reminded of the upcoming business trip with Jacques. He wondered what tasks awaited them. But to be honest, he couldn't muster much care.

His gaze drifted to a framed photograph on the desk, capturing a moment frozen in time. In it were his family members—Weiss, Wheatley, Winter—and...

"Mother," Kakashi muttered to himself. The absence of his mother since his reincarnation weighed heavily on his mind.

Despite the challenges he faced in adapting to this new life, not seeing her left a palpable void.

He found himself longing for a connection, eager to understand the role she played in Rinko's life and how it might affect his own journey in this world.

"I wonder where she is... I'll probably just ask Klein," he thought, leaning back in his chair. He reached for an 18+ novel that suited his interests, its cover art sparking a flicker of curiosity.

As he flipped through the pages, Kakashi found solace in the familiar act of reading, letting his thoughts drift away from the complexities of his new reality.

The steamy narrative provided an enticing distraction, momentarily transporting him to a world of passion and intrigue while he pondered the next steps in his unconventional life as Rinko Schnee.

Later

Klein knocked softly before entering Rinko Schnee's room.

Kakashi looked up from where he sat cross-legged in a nearby chair, momentarily breaking his concentration on the book in his hands.

"Master Rinko, you called?" Klein announced, injecting a hint of formality into his tone.

Kakashi waved his hand dismissively, "Klein, do you know where Mother is?"

Klein hesitated, his expression shifting from professionalism to contemplation. "Willow is in her room... She's been drinking heavily."

A frown creased Kakashi's brow at the revelation. The thought of his mother retreating into alcohol for comfort ignited a mix of concern and determination within him. "I see," he said, his voice steady.

Kakashi glanced briefly at the window, where bright noon sunlight streamed through the curtains, casting soft shadows across the room.

He could feel the weight of the Schnee estate's grandeur pressing down on him, but it was the unseen burdens of this family that concerned him more.

The knowledge that his mother, Willow, was struggling in her own world of despair gave him pause.

He felt the familiar pull of responsibility, the same that had driven him as a shinobi. But this time, the battlefield was different. It wasn't about missions or war; it was about family, something he hadn't experienced in the same way back in his previous life.

Still, Kakashi wasn't one to rush headlong into emotionally charged situations, especially not without a plan.

He had faced dangerous enemies and overwhelming odds, but this—dealing with a fractured family dynamic—felt equally daunting in its own way.

Right now, his mother needed to be handled delicately, and the timing wasn't right.

He would need to approach her eventually, but first, he had to gain a better understanding of the situation in this life.

"Not yet," Kakashi muttered quietly to himself, the weight of his decision settling in. 'I need to understand more. Rushing this won't help her, or me.'

Klein stood respectfully, awaiting further instruction, though there was a flicker of empathy in his eyes.

Kakashi always appreciated how observant the butler was—a man who could read between the lines without pressing for details.

He was the type of person Kakashi respected: sharp, dependable, but never intrusive.

"Klein," Kakashi started, closing the book in his hand and leaning forward, elbows resting on his knees. His tone shifted to one of casual curiosity. "What can you tell me about how long... she's been like this?"

Klein hesitated for a moment, his professionalism flickering. He shifted his stance slightly, then responded, "For quite some time, Master Rinko. It's not always this bad, but with your father's prolonged absences, she... withdraws. Her drinking has worsened over the past few years. Miss Weiss..." Klein paused as if considering whether to reveal more.

Kakashi nodded slowly, understanding the unspoken message. Weiss, his younger twin sister, must have had her own struggles growing up in such an environment.

Kakashi could piece together that Willow's emotional distance likely contributed to Weiss's determined, sometimes cold demeanor.

"Right," Kakashi said, his tone a mix of contemplation and sympathy. "And Father? How does he deal with this?" The question was mostly rhetorical, but Kakashi wanted more insight into the dynamics.

Klein's jaw tightened briefly, but his expression remained neutral. "Master Jacques... is rarely present. His focus remains on the company, and he prefers not to engage in... personal matters."

'Of course.' Kakashi leaned back, steepling his fingers. Jacques Schnee. He had no personal attachment to the man, but it was clear that the Schnee patriarch prioritized business over family.

He couldn't ignore Willow forever, but rushing into a conversation with her while she was in this state wouldn't accomplish anything.

"You may go now, Klein. Thanks for the help," Kakashi said, his tone sounding genuine.

Klein nodded in understanding, though Kakashi could sense the faint concern the butler held for Willow. "If you ever need any additional information or help, Master Rinko, don't hesitate to ask."

Kakashi nodded back as Klein gently closed the door behind him, leaving Kakashi alone with his thoughts.

He crossed over to the window, hands slipping into his pockets as he looked out over the expansive grounds of the Schnee estate.

The snow-covered land was beautiful, sparkling in the bright midday sun, but it also felt cold and detached—just like the family that owned it. 

His reflection in the glass showed his face, but he hardly recognized the man looking back.

Rinko Schnee.

That was the name he bore now.

But inside, he was still Kakashi Hatake, a shinobi, a survivor of countless battles, a man who'd known loss, responsibility, and, at one time, the bonds of friendship that carried him through it all.

Here, in this new life, things were different. It wasn't about missions or protecting a village.

It was about family—one that was already fractured beyond repair, or so it seemed.

Kakashi had never been the warm, familial type, but he understood the importance of connection. He had seen firsthand the devastating effects of isolation, especially on people like his mother.

'Willow Schnee...' Kakashi glanced at the family picture frame on his desk as his attention landed on Willow.

"Jacques doesn't care," Kakashi muttered to himself. It was clear that his so-called father had left a void in this family, one that his mother had tried to fill with alcohol, and Weiss had filled with cold determination.

Kakashi could see it now—the ripple effect Jacques had caused through his neglect.

Kakashi felt a familiar frustration bubbling within him.

'How could a man prioritize business over family?' It was a question that had haunted him in his previous life too.

He had seen the effects of neglect and emotional abandonment, and now, here it was again, manifesting in the very family he had been reborn into.

As he stood by the window, Kakashi's mind raced with thoughts of Weiss.

The picture frame on his desk showcased not only Willow but also Weiss in her younger years, her expression caught somewhere between joy and determination. Her bright blue eyes seemed to stare right back at him, challenging him to step up and break the cycle that Jacques had established.

"Hmm... This is just giving me a headache," Kakashi sighed, running a hand through his hair.

He turned his gaze back outside the window as delicate snowflakes began to fall from the sky, the bright sun still shining overhead.

The contrast of the gentle snowfall against the vibrant light created a serene yet bittersweet scene, reflecting his turbulent thoughts.

"A little walk outside wouldn't hurt," Kakashi muttered to himself, the thought of fresh air and a change of scenery providing a momentary escape from the weight of his family's struggles.

Atlas Streets

Kakashi stepped outside, the cold air biting at his cheeks as he took in the towering, futuristic buildings of Atlas.

The architecture was sleek and imposing, with glass and metal glinting in the sunlight, reflecting the bustling life below.

He marveled at the impressive heights of the structures, each one seemingly reaching for the sky, and felt a mix of awe and curiosity at the advancements of this world.

Everywhere he looked, people were glued to their scrolls, swiping and tapping as if their lives depended on it.

The vibrant screens illuminated their faces, creating a stark contrast against the muted tones of the winter landscape.

Kakashi couldn't help but wonder about the importance of these devices—what secrets and stories they held.

As he roamed through the crowded streets, he noticed a group of pedestrians gathering at the crosswalk, their attention fixated on the traffic signal.

When the red hand transitioned to a green human figure, they stepped forward in unison, a seamless flow of movement.

Kakashi followed suit, mimicking their actions and observing the rhythm of the crowd. He took mental notes, filing away details about how they navigated their surroundings, how they interacted with each other, and the subtle social cues that marked their daily lives.

The sounds of the city enveloped him—the distant hum of machinery, the chatter of voices blending into comforting background noise, and the occasional whoosh of air as hover vehicles zipped by overhead.

Each element painted a vivid picture of life in Atlas, one that was both alien and captivating to him.

Kakashi stepped into a nearby coffee shop, the warmth enveloping him like a comforting embrace.

The inviting aroma of freshly brewed coffee mixed with the faint scent of baked goods filled the air, creating a cozy atmosphere that was a stark contrast to the cold, sterile environment outside.

He took a moment to observe the patrons—students studying with scrolls spread out in front of them, businesspeople engaged in animated conversations, and couples enjoying quiet moments together.

After ordering a simple black coffee, he settled into a seat by the window, allowing the soft glow of the sunlight to filter through the glass and warm his face.

As he took his first sip, he savored the rich flavor, noting how different it was from the tea he was accustomed to back in Konoha. Here, in this bustling city, everything felt more refined and polished, from the drinks to the decor.

"Being a Schnee definitely has its perks," he mused quietly, reflecting on how money wasn't much of an issue for him.

The privileges that came with his new identity allowed him to indulge in small luxuries he had never experienced before.

Yet, he knew that wealth could not fill the void of emotional connection or familial bonds that were lacking in his life.

Kakashi took another sip of his coffee, letting the warmth seep into him as he considered his choices.

The bustling city of Atlas, with its towering buildings and cutting-edge technology, offered a world of possibilities. Yet, a nagging uncertainty lingered in his mind. 

There really isn't a big goal in his mind right now.

Should he become a Huntsman or join the Military, following the steps of her sisters?

Or continue being Jacques' lap dog?

Honestly, he was tired of fighting but understood if he got to join in fighting again, he knew that he would be able to save lives.

But then there was Jacques. The name alone conjured up feelings of disdain.

Being Jacques Schnee's "lap dog" felt wrong, like a betrayal of everything he had stood for in his previous life.

The thought of simply following orders, prioritizing wealth and corporate interests over the welfare of others, sat heavily on his conscience.

"Is that all I am now?" he whispered to himself, staring into the depths of his coffee cup. 

'A pawn in this family's legacy?' He had to admit, that the allure of power and influence was tempting. The Schnee name carried weight in Atlas, and he could wield that to affect change. But was it enough?

As he mulled over his thoughts, he observed the patrons in the coffee shop. Each person seemed to have their own purpose, their own direction. 

Students were engaged in discussions about their studies, professionals were tapping away at their scrolls, and couples were wrapped up in conversations that made them smile.

Everyone was connected, and he felt like an outsider looking in.

A new wave of determination surged within him. If he was to truly embrace his new life, he needed to break free from Jacques' shadow and forge his own path. 

The thought of becoming a Huntsman appealed to him on many levels. It would allow him to harness his combat skills for a greater cause, protecting those who couldn't protect themselves.

He had fought countless battles in his past life, defending his village and loved ones.

The idea of fighting again, even if he was tired of it, resonated with a part of him that longed for purpose.

With a newfound resolve, Kakashi stood up, smoothing down his coat as he prepared to leave the coffee shop. The snow had begun to fall outside, each flake a reminder of the beauty and fragility of life.

He would take this moment to explore, to discover not only the city of Atlas but also the kind of man he wanted to become.

"One step at a time," Kakashi mumbled to himself, hands in his pockets, as he walked casually back to his home.

[End]