There is an image in my head
Going to draw it for you, using words as my paint.
Colour it with my imagination and finish it with a promise.
There is a history on the wall, forgotten but well loved.
There is a hole in his heart, confusion on his mind, coldness in his soul.
It feels off.
Something… someone is missing.
He is missing some parts of himself.
There is a history on the wall, feels like his story, missing some pieces, some parts too much, but his none the less.
There is an empty seat next to him, an empty face, an empty grave.
Empty heart.
There is a history on the wall, full of life, full of death.
His friends, his home, his pack, his other half, his soul.
A man sits next to him.
Familiar in an unknown way.
He feels closer to being whole, they both do.
There is a history on the wall, their story, broken, forgotten, full of missing pieces but well loved.
Well loved.
Red.
It was the red that Kakashi has seen the first. On the wall, painted, hanged, feared, beloved red. Not any red thought, that red. That legendary red; full of stories of love and hate and revenge and second chances.
It was that red that has Kakashi hypnotised on the wall. In a room full of other art pieces and memoirs, it was this one… This one who stole his breath away and locked him on his place, looking across the red seeing nothing and everything, understanding everything and nothing.
History, Kakashi mused to himself, is complicated and full of half-truths. After all it’s the winners who get to tell the tales of war and spread it with the rest of the world. Kakashi, growing up, has seen lots of misinformation. On the net, on people’s mouths, even on some of the library books. Maybe that’s why he chose this career.
To find the truth.
What truth? Whose truth? Why the truth? He doesn’t know, doesn’t care. He just needs the truth. He needs to know everything. If he sees a problem, he must understand it, solve it, and completely obliterate it. His teachers called him genius, his peers called him arrogant. His family called him pup, Kakashi huffed out an amused laughter. History…
People die, legends live on, and the history is doomed to repeat itself. Maybe not completely in the same way, but nothing is inevitable. Humanity forgets, and with this sin they are doomed to repeat their mistakes, over and over and over again. But sometimes… life repeats itself, not because of some divine punishment or human mistake; it’s just wired that way, for some reason, it’s programmed to repeat and repeat itself. An endless cycle, spinning and spinning, just like the red.
Sky is blue, Konoha is surrounded by green, the red is watching him, and the life is cursed to repeat itself.
After all he was a Hatake.
Yeah… one of those Hatake’s. How? Well… no one really knows. Somehow, a lot of old, dead, clan names from the beginning of the foundation era of the hidden villages are back in the modern times. Now, you can watch a video that has someone named Inuzuka while they play with puppies. The same clan in the old legend books that tamed and became one with the wild dogs.
Mah… modern times, the gift that keeps on giving…
And Inuzuka’s are not the only ones who managed to live on, other names are also back on the tongues and in the minds. Names such as Uzumaki, Senju, Hatake, Uchiha…
That one is still a surprise for most of the population.
Those names somehow managed to live on, like the ancient relics of those times. Maybe worn out a little bit, lost some of its meaning and even changed around to fit better, but it still lived on. An incredible feat, truly.
Some people are against it. Against the usage of the old, legendary, clan names. They claim, ‘we should leave the history in the past and respect it.’ What a bunch of idiots, Kakashi clenched his fist. Not using it means forgetting, erasing. What books were written and forgotten? What art pieces were painted, what plays were acted and has vanished into nothingness?
To erase the art, you must destroy it, completely. To not to use a part of the village’s history, leaving it to rot away on some books, later to be vanishing as their predecessors… Some of his professors are way more stupid than they look. Letting a part of Konoha to rot away? Let it be getting destroyed on broad daylight? That’s fate worse than death.
Maybe, thought to himself Kakashi, eyes taking in the details of the red and black, engraving all over again into his brain, that’s what happened to the Kage Monument. Now, only some of the details and small pieces are remaining on the mountain. Some parts of it blown up to pieces, some parts fell thanks to big earthquakes, some part of them doesn’t even look like anything at all, just spikes and slashes and Konoha’s old symbols with scrapes.
It was an ancient memoir of people who gave their everything and then some to protect the people, for the people to look up and be comforted by the watchful eyes of their strongest shinobis. Powerful enough to destroy entire armies, flatten other enemy villages, and use the power of magic, or a better word is ‘chakra’, to create weapons, attacks, and defences to guard their people.
Yeah… right.
When you have cars going faster than the legendary ‘yellow flash’, medicines working better than ‘Senju techniques’, having real pets that you don’t have to use your blood, blood red, of all things, to summon talking animals... When you have rockets that goes to space, to moon, you kind of stop believing in the old God’s and myths.
Because even if Kakashi is after truth, the truth, he is still a scientist at heart. He sees mag- chakra, Minato-sensei would actually kill him if he hears one more time Kakashi calls it magic, bullsh*t and his brain goes, hah nope! Math is not mathing, physics and life doesn’t work like that. You can’t run on water, walk on walls, the red eye is always watching you Kakashi, and you can’t clone yourself! There is just no way! Some of the stuff Kakashi has to read every day makes him go mental.
Like, for example, one of his ‘supposed’ ancestors was a Kage. The dude was the last one of his clan and had no children. Kakashi, as said before, is all for ‘not forgetting the names’ and ‘make sure to protect the history’ but, scientifically, there is no way Hatake, the Hatake, is his ancestor.
Some of his friends theorized he could have had an unknown child or a missing cousin, but that information feels wrong, rubs him in the wrong way. He sometimes looks at the ruined memoir and tries to figure out; Who were you? Who are we? Where did we come from? We are not from you… right? If we are not from your blood, then what are we? What right do we have to claim your name?
Kakashi wants to make sure his name lives on, but he can’t help himself ask these questions.UGGHH, he started to sound just like the old bags. He will carry the name just to spite them. Also to apologize to the dude. The reason why the 6th Kage of the Konoha, the hero of the village, ending and being the reason for ending the child shinobi system, as one of its poster children is named ‘the dude’ in his head, is quite simple.
The history had won; people had forgotten his name. They have forgotten all the Kages names, somehow. An insane achievement, truly! To this day historians are setting themselves on fire trying to figure out their names.
We no longer had their full names. This is what happens if you refuse to use their name, Kakashi thought bitterly, scratching under his left eye. 7th is known as the Kitsune Sage, 6th is the Hatake, 5th is, and Kakashi still giggles to himself whenever he thinks about her, Killer Beauty, who shouldn’t be mixed with the greatest musician of all time, the Killer Bee. 4th is known as Yellow Flash, 3rd is Renewed Leader; and the ultimate disrespect, 2nd and 1st kages are, silver and golden Senju’s, in that order, like they are some medals to be won over.
Yikes… for a village who helped to bring world peace, we suck. Kakashi standing still, in front of the painting, gave his weight to his other leg, his bags hanging loosely on his shoulders. Of course, he nodded to himself, while watching the red, red, red; Of course, people remembered the monikers. Forget the family given name and instead remember the random nicknames they got thanks to wrong translations.
He will make sure the Hatake name got a real recognition instead of some fairy tale bullsh*t. There is no way they got those nicknames while they were still breathing. Some of them don’t even make sense! Like the ‘Copy Ninja’, ’Red eyed Hatake’, like the ones on the painting, constantly spinning, calculating, memorizing, ’Cold Blooded Hound’, ‘Friend Killer’, at that one Kakashi rolled his eyes so hard he gave himself a migraine, great. Yeah, the Kage who is famous for screaming ‘Power of Friendship” would kill his friends, he huffed. Please!
But… just because Kakashi doesn’t believe in ma- chakra or impossible feats doesn’t mean it didn’t happen. Somethings must have occurred for these stories to begin. He just believes that legends are exaggerating the some of the real events, stories who gets shared by mouth tends to get dramatized over time.
Kakashi is certain that wars and the death and pain and suffering and all that horrible things happened but Kitsune Sage seducing Moon, the Moon, to defeat her in the last war by turning each of his tails to charming young men sounds insane. Kakashi laughed to himself, making some of the visitors who stopped to watch him stand and stare at the blood-red eye spinning constantly, flinch.
To the disbelief of the onlookers, he started to back off, one slow and calculated step at a time, dark black gaze never leaving the red, making some of the people behind him move away. Kakashi hadn’t realized there were people around him too in this public place, open to everyone. He just simply didn’t care. Didn’t cared about the living people around him, his focus on the dead ones. Eyes locked on, on that unforgettable bleeding eye.
With mirth in his blood system and wonder clouding his mind, Kakashi started to ponder what others had done before him—what they used to look like?The pictures they had over them, over every legendary ninja, were mediocre at best, showing almost no details, and thanks to time taking a toll on the photos, most of the images they had were drawn by people later using the descriptions in the books and almost all of them had guesses the artist made. Some of them were the most ridiculous things he had ever seen! In some of the paintings, the Kitsune Sage had whiskers on his face, for God’s sake! What is he, a cat?!
Names are forgotten, faces are buried deep into the ground, books lost, monuments destroyed… Who were they, truly? What were they like daily? They were the strongest figures of their time, but they were also human. Who could have ever written how they liked their tea? Who could have made sure they got the perfect gift on their birthday? How were they when they had no responsibility at the end of the day? Who tried to make sure their words and presence and their humanity lived on as they passed away? How did they looked while smiling for the people they love? How lonely were they at their death bed?
Probably not lonely at all. They all were so loved by so many people. WELL, maybe not the 4th… not because he was hated by people or anything! Just the opposite, he was loved by all! It’s just… c’mon everybody knows the story! We maybe don’t remember their names, but we could never forget their sacrifices! Every kid, animal, tree, dirt, air in Konoha knows the tale of how the 4th and his wife gave their life to the village! I mean… you were there, weren’t you? Looking at them with your red, red, blood red eye; tears making you half blind, cry, cry, cry at the stone until death, Kakashi-
6th…
The 6th kage supposedly had his blood. Now only thing remaining of his face is that the god forsaken mask, gazing upon his enemy in the painting with the-
Scar… he can see it better when he is standing in front of it, in front of the painting. Analysing the same scene over and over and over again. Maybe that was another thing that repeated itself. Hatake’s were doomed to gaze upon a memoir of their own making.
This picture… it changed him the second he saw it. Now gazing up at the 6th with his battle uniform, with that f*cking mask, and the scar, Kakashi can’t help but ask, who gave you that scar? Who were you before that mark? Who have you become after it? Why has it come to… this?
Why is the red-eyed, bitter, heavily scarred, enemy of the entire world’s painting, his only painting, taking all his attention and time? But… that also feels wrong. His only painting? That doesn’t feel right. There should be more. More of his beautiful scars and colourful skin should be on canvases, in museums. There should be more of his blood red eye looking at him, seeing all the ugly and kindness, and the gaze should stay on him and keep looking at Kakashi, and just keep looking and looking-
These two had only one painting describing how they looked like from that ancient time, and they were sharing it, sharing the painting just like how they shared a team, a life, an eye, an obsession, blood, grief, revenge and loneliness. They were painted together as a pair on the canvas, daring people to break them apart when the time and war itself couldn’t. Daring people to if they had to erase one, the other too.
One couldn’t exist without the other. Fated to be lonely together, on the painting, in the life and at the death’s door. Made to be one but ripped apart by fate. Trying to become one was the sin that they got punished for.
Their names forgotten, faces one of the biggest mysteries of the entire world and their history vanished into the thin air. They had only one true painting of these two. They had only one and in it the dude was hiding his f*cking face!
He knows he is being a hypocrite. Getting angry at the dude just because he is hiding his face behind a mask is stupid. He himself is wearing a mask at this very moment! Kakashi knows he is being stupid, and he doesn’t care at all now. He wants to feel stupid sometimes, okay! I mean the dude is literally a shinobi! Of course he is going to hide his face, dumbass! Why are you refusing to see the similarities you two have, Kakashi? Desperate eyes, one coloured red on him; why are you taking your anger on yourself while he, the trash, is right here Bak-
Kakashi, to put it as kindly as possible, is not normal, not at all. He gets angry at shinobis who hides their face behind a mask, has nightmares that scares everyone around him, has a, how can he say this, fine art obsession that would rival the 6th and is fixated with this one, and only, painting of them, of the red eye.
It all started when he was 5. His parents wanted to spend his kindergarten graduation day with him. Do kids even have an active consciousness at that age? Kakashi had. He mused to himself while staring at the red eyed, black haired broken man. But… that hair was not really black, wasn’t it, Kakashi? It was dark navy and looked lighter in Konoha’s burning sun. Especially after some heavy spar against each other under it. Both watching the other carefully to make sure no real injuries were given. Dark eyes to darker, one kid to other, dark navy to silver, teammate to rival, caring to bitter.
And now, at 20 years old, Kakashi just can’t stop. Can’t stop coming here, everyday almost, can’t help to watch it, watch him. No matter the date, the weather, or the hour he is here, standing still, like a soldier, analysing the painting all over again and engraving it deeper into his memory, his brain. It used to be easier. It’s making him late to things, making him forget promises, making him make the people around him concerned. They even tried to force him to go to therapy once!
…or multiple times, but that’s an entirely different story for another time.
His eternal rival, Kakashi sighed, even joked that he fell in love with the artwork. Kakashi had laughed out loud at that. Falling in love? He was obsessed with it. Obsessed with the way it was painted, obsessed with way the people were standing in it. Obsessed with the background and obsessed with the colours, red and dark navy and purple and white-tan skin and red, red, red, spinning black tomoes, searching him and finding. Finding him everywhere, there is no hiding, no need to hide, no need to hide from him. From his red eye.
The painting was describing the last world war. The Final war. The war that ended the others. At first glance it looks chaotic but the more you look the more you realize. The more you see and Kakashi has seen everything the painting gave and many more.
At the right, closer to bottom corner, was the most impossible fight of the history: The Mad Uchiha fighting the Golden Senju. Why are they on the war that happened years later after their death was a mystery. Mystery to many but to Kakashi the answer is simple. He refuses to think about it though, he is a scientist at heart after all and it doesn’t matter how much his kōhai shows him fantasy movies he will not acknowledge that truth.
He is just… He refuses that one. Refuses to think about it. Just like how he doesn’t think about the slight smile on the bitter man looking at his enemy, eye, red bleeding eye, the only one, seeming softer even when its full of hate. The more you look the more you see.
No sensei, I am not going insane.
Moving on! At the top were the 3 Legends, heroes of the Konoha, fighting against… the moon.
Yeah… that moon. The same seduced moon, Kakashi let’s out an annoyed huff, what is with these people and obsessing over space? You guys are shinobis! Focus on the chakra jutsu or something! At the last part Kakashi raised both of his hands into the air in frustration, making everybody around him flinch once again.
He dropped his hands as he started to take in the 3 Legendary heroes. Kitsune Sage in the middle, his back to the watcher as his golden hair shining bright like a beacon of hope, to his right Unbreakable Healer Haruno, her hair hiding her eyes, but the confident smile and face tattoos are showing, and The Last Uchiha to his left, left, left them, left him, just like the rest of them, but came back at the end, came back just like how he did and never left again. He should have trusted his students more. How can he keep f*cking up this badly?
Kakashi shook his head a little, trying to focus on the art and forcing himself to not to get lost in his nightmares. As his eternal rival says, there is time and place for everything, Kakashi!
Speaking of his rival, his friend’s ancestor was also in the painting. Flying on a red dragon somehow, and getting ready to jump The Mad Uchiha, like this is some insane wrestling scene and not the deadliest war of their collective history as mankind. When they realized both of their ancestor was in the painting they had awed really loudly and had a fit of laughter so hard they had lost their voices for days. They got thrown out after 3 hours. Worth it though. Best 9th birthday ever!
This painting was drawn so detailed, painted so lovingly, and kept safe by everyone in the Konoha that Kakashi feels so emotional and proud of it. But… these things don’t make him stop functioning. Don’t make him come to the same museum to watch the same painting a thousand times. Don’t put him on the security’s sh*t list every single goddamned day.
It’s…
It’s the fated fight that has his entire life in a clutch. It’s the fight between the 6th and his enemy. It’s the man in the rich purples with spinning red eye focusing on him that has his entire heart. It’s the way two enemies look at one another with faces full of regret and bodies ready to destroy that has Kakashi’s soul bound to its place. It’s the way two men stand on left corner, bodies in a vulnerable position, weapon’s drawn to one another. It’s the broken promises and friendships and devotions. It’s the doomed life they shared together.
It’s the eye that has Kakashi. The singular eye. Blood red one.
The way the Uchiha, the God’s Punishment, is drawn only shows one of his eyes. Only the right of his face is shown to the watcher; the heavily, beautifully scarred face pulled with a really pissed-off look in his eyes, but he couldn’t help but smile slightly.He hates the 6th, that’s also another thing everyone knows. He hates him but can’t help to enjoy the fight. He is savouring the time he is spending with him, he is relishing sparring with him on equal footing for the first time ever, so suck on that Bakak-
His body is turned towards his opponent, the Hatake, his back is towards the observer, and a sword in his hand pointed to its target. Only the right of his face is shown in the painting but somehow Kakashi knows he only has one. One of those legendary red eyes.
The other?
Kakashi looks slightly to the side and sees the Hatake with both eyes open, one darker than endless night, one shining blood red, with his left eye scarred. Only the eyes are shown. The man looks both devastated and awestruck. You would know. His upper body turned towards the on-looker, a blue shining kunai in hand, the other reaching out to grasp the arm of his enemy.
Both men holding weaponry. Both men are in a battlefield, fighting for their causes, for their lives and the lives that depends on them. Both men’s attack going towards the other, aimed at the heart, ready to kill and die, but there is no real fury in their gazes, no real hate. Even if they both tried so hard to hate the other they can’t. Only sadness is surrounding them. Sadness, grief, regret and death.
Kakashi’s eyes lock on the eye of the 6th, the red one, and he knows. He knew instantly. He knew consciously. At 5 years old, looking at the painting for the first time ever, with both of his parents next to him, his friends’ voices in his head, ears full of promises to see more of them later that week, Kakashi feels real solitude.
He gazes upon the painting and makes a connection no other man tried to do, no other person even though before and knows with his whole being that it is true. He looks at the world’s most hated man and understands the love he gave away. He looks and sees, really sees, the connection between the world most famous enemies and realizes a truth. His first truth.
Red eye. That red f*cking eye, gaze locked on its twin, its other half. On the face of the 6th.
As like the first time he had come to this conclusion, Kakashi’s leg gave out. It’s either from the exhaustion or the shock he still feels about this particular truth. Thankfully he had moved beforehand, realizing his fatigue he had moved towards the seat directly in front of the painting. They had put it there after his 11th collapse on his 13th birthday. Sometimes it is a good thing, freaking people out. Now almost all Konoha knows, this seat is for that weird silver haired researcher obsessed with the ghosts of the past, and world’s most deranged painting.
He knows he sounds insane. There is a reason why no one else dared to make that connection before. The God’s punishment, giving one of his legendary weapon, giving one of his clan’s most beloved trait, giving a part of himself to his enemy; for him to use, for him to live with the rest of his life with a part of him on his face, looking in the mirror and seeing and never being able to forget about him until the day he died. For him to gift something so precious, so adored, so intimate, then them ending up fighting to death for the fate of the world?
It's insane. This is insanity. He is insane. They are insane. What were you thinking Ob-
“What happened? How could this happen? How could any of this happen? What could have happened to both of you to end up like this?” he mutters to himself, out loud, making the person sitting next to him move away. Trying to distract himself, trying to come back to reality, he looks for the familiar eye, to anchor himself, to look for the answers to his questions. Eyes roaming at the dancing figures, surrounded by grey blocks of different sizes, Kakashi tries to make sense of the desperation they surround themselves with.
The bitter man. His first friend. The Executioner. Warm, shines brighter than the f*cking sun. The Oni. His saviour. The Ghost. The heart of the team. Deadliest, caring, the most dangerous, why was he kind to me till the bitter end, shinobi of all time. Ender of his own bloodline, stupid, broken, captivating, deranged, you once choked on a piece of candy in the middle of chuunin exams… Did you keep loving sweets, or was your taste another thing that died on that day? The master puppeteer, why didn’t you come back, Kakashi’s obsession, Hatake’s guide, eye blood red, red, red like his hands after he killed her, clothes tainted with unimaginable amount of sin, you had one job, and you even managed to f*ck that up too.
Bound to his cause, you were a mistake, completely lost his self for revenge, he shouldn’t have saved you, ready to burn both the world and himself, my life wasn’t worth his-
Ah ah ah! Mah… the nightmares keep popping out of nowhere. Confusing him, erasing the thin line between the reality and the story Kakashi made up in his head.
But was it really in his head? He knows he sounds mad with his theories about what happened that day. He can see the way people look at him, can hear the things they say behind him. He has fought people over what is ‘the truth’ and what is his ‘baseless speculation’. They say, ‘he is losing touch with reality’.
Huh, Kakashi rolled his eyes, there could be a chance he is maybe, possibly, be seeing things there are not really there and just adds stuff to make it make sense. He perhaps looks at Dango shops longingly even if he hates sweets, mayhaps he might be waking up ass crack of dawn to wash his hand over and over and over again to clean off his red, red, blood red, bloody hands but it never gets off.
They are forever tainted just like your soul. They are forever tainted by your mistakes and sins and decisions. They are forever tainted with the people you loved, you cared about. They are forever tainted by the sacrifices you have made for a home that chewed you over and over and f*cking over again until it spit you out different, until you were not you anymore. Until you were a different person entirely. Until you have given everything you had and many f*cking more.
Until they took everything away from you. They took your innocence, they took your childhood, they took your friends, they took your gift. His gift. They took his gift and now you will have to live with the rest of your life without him. Without a part of him with you, reminding you, protecting you. You are now completely whole but are you really, Kakashi? Could you become whole without a part of him? Because if you could not, then what are you really? You look human but do you feel human without his flesh on you? If you are not human, what are you?
A weapon?
Yeah… that’s what you really are and nothing more you piece of sh*t trash-
Kakashi got out of his spiral thanks to a loud voice echoing inside the room. He opened his eyes and took a breath and then another and then some more to calm himself. To ground himself to the moment. Pain… a throbbing pain on his palm and face. Ah! He must have slapped himself to stop his existential crises. Neat. That explains the noise and the sudden random pain.
After calming down a little he looked around to see if other people have seen him, as his friends say, lose it. Aannndd, yep! The room is almost empty thanks to him, and remaining people are sending him pitying glances as they are moving towards the exit. Great. At least no one will try to ask what his deal is or if he needs help and just leave him alone.
Alone with the painting. Never truly alone, this being a public place and all, he is watching you constantly, but alone enough. He gazes upon it and the painting gazes back onto him. People are staring at him, he is staring at the red eye, the red eye is staring at its match, it’s match is staring it back. For a museum, Kakashi realizes deliriously, a lot of staring is happening. More than that should be normal, he thinks.
As he is looking at the other half of his favourite red, he realizes another thing, still delirious, both Hatake’s are focusing on the most generous Uchiha. The only Uchiha to ever offer his gift, share his talent. Even if some people don’t agree with him, doesn’t believe him, Kakashi will forever carry this truth with him, his first truth. Carry it to his death bed. Carry it with his other memories and nightmares and truths; it will shine like a diamond on his darkest days. His most prized, loved, cared truth. Their truth.
Maybe he isn’t the most generous Uchiha but to Kakashi, he is. He has given his everything and more too. Just like the Hatake, that was another thing they had in common. He has given and given and given until there was no more of him to give. Until he wasn’t him anymore, too.
How did he know this? The answer makes his friends and his entire academic staff at the University of Konoha angry. He just did. He could feel it in his bones, in his eye, in his guts. He could feel it with his entire being.
Somehow, the Executioner had changed sides at the end, helping the kages, helping him, and one of the main reasons that they managed to save the entire world. Let’s just forget that he was also the reason why the entire world was in danger for a second, Kakashi laughed to himself, still a little manic.
With a groan, Kakashi rubbed his temple with his knuckle, trying to think if this was one of the truths or his delusion. It was the truth. It is! He really helped! He gave his life for him, again. Until the very end, he lived and died for him. Despite everything, despite what other people say, I didn’t deserve you, Obi-
Now people fear his name, some curse at him; some, and they are the people who believe he really turned over a good leaf, show a little respect to his last-minute delivery.
Kakashi only wants to weep.
He wants to weep, weep, weep until he let out all his grief and misery, until he dried up all of his tears and sadness, until there is a river that would flow, flow, flow forever and more to the place that had remaining pieces of the Uchiha. Hatake’s Uchiha. His Uchiha.
The Uchiha. Not the ‘Mad Uchiha’, not the ‘Last Uchiha', nor the ‘Strongest Uchiha’. The Uchiha. Yeah… he is one of the forgotten names in this f*cked-up story. Again, his stupid nicknames are living but not his real name. Some say that is a good thing, ‘names like his don’t deserve to live on’. It is such a disappointment, Kakashi tried to say, ‘we could have found his past, why he turned out like this, to make sure no other person turned out like him’.
Kakashi just kept weeping.
How could they forget, how could they lose it? How dare they? How dare he? He looked at the Uchiha, eyes roaming around, taking him in, with an apologetic look in his eyes. Saying sorry that we had forgotten, showing his sorrow, trying to make it right. Trying to understand him, trying to uncover other truths from him. Who were you before all this? Why did you done the thing you have done? Did it hurt, when you lost your eye? He looked towards its other half and continued, did it hurt when you got his? Or was it true ecstasy? How red was it? Was it as red as the painting on the wall? Or was it bloodier, livelier, more vibrant, more miserable, more tragic than the ones in Kakashi’s nightmares?
Kakashi gazed upon the history and saw the misery. Kakashi gazed upon the enemies and saw devotion. Kakashi gazed upon the horrors of the humanity, of the world and saw the beauty in it. He saw the beauty in him, saw the beauty in a dying friend, body and soul full of scars, raspy deep voice, forever ringing in his head, talking about old promises and a better future with a smile on his face. A beautiful smile. A beautiful man. Warm like the summer sun, pointed like their kunai, full of mischief and sorrow.
Kakashi felt the tear before it fell from his left eye, just like always. As he let the tear drop into the river, making it longer so he had an easier time to find his path, he heard his phone ring.
f*ck.
With a quick move he opened the screen to see his dogs’ cute faces and the time, and oh no. Fuuuck, 4 hours? So that’s why the new bodyguards looked at him all depressed and confused.
As he was freaking out about the meeting, the same meeting he was being late to at this very moment, his phone rang once again. Same music. Same music means same man. Same sensei he is annoying and disappointing at this very moment, as he is still sitting inside the godforsaken museum. While he moved to open the call, he saw something, rather someone, sit right next to him, breathing out a small “Still with the mask?”. Because of his distraction he accidentally closed on Minato. Kakashi closed his eyes. Putting his hands on his face, he let out a pathetic whimper.
He had closed on Minato, while he had promised to him, he was going to be there for the newcomer for their research group. He had closed on him, after promising him for 2 hours straight. He had closed on him when he swore on his dogs’ life. Oh fffuuuuuuccckkkkkk, he was so dead. He was mega dead. He was deader than the people in the painting, and they had died thousands of years ago. He was so dead he started to prepare to meet the 6th and started to repeat some of his pre-determined questions he was going to ask him. He was that dead.
A familiar ring. Same music. Same music means- before he could finish his thought his reflexes started to work for him for the first time in his life. He put the now opened call, to his ear and braced himself for his mentors fussing and screaming. Nice.
“Yes, yes, I know Minato sensei. I promised to you I would be there toda- no, no, no! I did not close on you on purpose! I had just butt-ended your call!”a low amused huff from his left made him lower his phone, but Minato’s irritated voice pulled it back right up, “Yes! I am on the road! Yes, yes, I- no, I’m not talking about the road of life-” as he was answering Minato’s near incomprehensible questions, Kakashi was gathering his remaining brain cells and his bags.
Kakashi had just a second to think about how he managed to sprawl his bags all around the bench when he didn’t even remember opening them when Minato continued with his questions “Whaaattt??? Am I in the museum?? Pffftt. Of course not! Don’t be a silly goose! Lying? Me?? Neveeer. My voice isn’t getting higher Minato sens- yes, you are the crazy one- no, I am not ‘gaslighting’ you-” while he gathered his last bag Kakashi’s eyes fell on the painting one last time, looking at the beautiful red as he turned to walk away, he felt the air around him change. With one step closer to the exist, eyes not focused, he felt himself slipping on empty air, like an idiot. Mah… so this is where my reflexes left me to die.
As he was falling down his eyes locked on the painter’s signature on the bottom. A name drawn beautifully using the richest purple paint Kakashi has ever seen since he was 5 years old. Same colour as his Uchiha’s robe shining on the painting like a beacon, forcing people’s focus on it. The name was an old friend to him now just like how the art piece was. Sukea.
Such a foreign yet a familiar name.
A laugh. From the person that was sitting next to him inside the empty room. A familiar laugh yet so foreign at the same time. Lighter than what it should be. Lighter than how he remembered. A laugh unburdened by pain and sorrow. A nice, beautiful sound.
“Kakashi? Kakashi are you there? Please tell me you didn’t just trip and crack open your head on the pavement.” Kakashi heard his teachers panicked voice over his still open phone. With a groan Kakashi cut of his gaze from the painting and reached for the phone. Eyes on the ceiling he chose to just lie on the ground. While he was becoming one with the trash, as always, he watched the empty ceiling, knowing if he didn’t get out now, he would stay for another 4 hours. “Mah, sensei. Your trust in my surviving skills is disappointing. Of course I didn’t trip-” another familiar sound, a snort this time.
Before Kakashi could take a good look at his new fan his teacher continued to lose his mind over the phone, “Wait, wait, wait, what do you mean? They didn’t show up eithe- Why are you getting angry at me? It’s not like I kidnapped them to watch over the painting with me! Wha- what painting? You are hearing things sense- no, I am not ‘gaslighting’ you.” Kakashi tiredly rubbed his face as he sighed. He slowly rose to a sitting position, trying to lower his headache. He loved his teacher but sometimes the man was so exhausting to deal with.
After taking a deep breath, Kakashi made a decision. If their newbie hadn’t arrived on time, even when Kakashi gave him extra two more hours to make it, he wasn’t going to be there either. Rude ass. With a mock shock, Kakashi butted in Minato’s rant and went for the kill, just like his supposed ancestor had once, “Mah, sensei. I would love to be there, right in this very second but unfortunately the uhhh the sun has exploded, yes. I will see you exactly uhhhhhhhhh minutes later, bye!” and with that, he closed the phone on his raging ball of a teacher's face, while his seatmate kept choking on his laughter. Loud enough there is no chance Minato missed it. Neat.
Yep! Kakashi had did done it now! He was so dead. For a second, he imagined Minato in a shinobi outfit, just like in his dreams with him and Kushina-nee, coming for his head with a disappointed look in his eyes, killing Kakashi before he even touched him with his kunai, using only his ‘disappointed in you’ face. Yikes. Better to ready my questions now! With a frown, Kakashi glanced at the bane of his existence and both tanked and cursed at the ‘Sukea’ for painting it so longingly, so captivatingly, so passionately that Kakashi couldn’t make himself hate it.
He tried. Really, really tried. To hate it. To forget about it. Forget about the art, forget about the eye, forget about him. Once, on his 14th birthday he even tried to destroy it. Trying to melt it with his boiling hot tea. He couldn’t do it. It was his one and only try.
He had raised his hand, taken aim at the eye, and chucked the whole thing. In milliseconds, he regrated it and covered the painting using his own body. It was a bad summer for everyone involved. Him, his parents, security guards, his doctor, the owner of the red… Thankfully, by that time, everyone knew his obsession with the piece, so no one questioned whether he tried to do it on purpose or if he was really that clumsy. Instead, they put a protective glass over the painting.
Thanks to Kakashi’s own stupidity now there was a new layer between them. And yes, Kakashi had started to think the owner of the eye was a real human instead some legendary figure of the past. Cool. Such a mentally okay thing to do, Kakashi! Keep up the good work!
“Why… why didn’t you just painted some cute puppies or something?” he asked, still frowning at the name. With a pained whine, Kakashi pulled himself onto the seat, leaving all of his belongings on the ground. Now it was their turn to become trash, just like their owner! While Kakashi was getting lost in his thoughts a delighted sound anchored him to the very moment.
“That’s what I was thinking about!” owner of the voice spoke out, trying to pull Kakashi into conversation. His voice is deep, but still lighter than what it should be, extremely familiar, completely unknown, joyful, full of life and most importantly, warm. His new fan, his beacon, his seatmate continued, “Don’t take it badly but this painting is really depressing, Bakakashi.” he laughed whole heartly, his joyous voice echoing in the empty room, echoing in his heart, making Kakashi face him for the first time. As Kakashi’s gaze focused on him, finally taking him in for the first time, he felt his heart stop for a moment.
Kakashi had turned towards the heartwarming voice and came face to face with a man who should have alluring scars and a blood-red eye. Instead, his handsome face seemed soft, unmarked, and open; a teasing smile on his lip and his eyes full of mirth, were focused on him. It took just a moment to short-circuit Kakashi’s brain.It was just a moment but felt like decades. Just a moment, but forever to them. Kakashi forced himself to take in what he was looking at because there was just no way…
“But!” the owner of the honey warm voice continued, eyes locked on, hearts beating in harmony, “But, you always had a knack for doing the stupidest things, hadn’t you?” the stranger, his most beloved friend, his new fan, a once dead child soldier, bane of his existence, his other half continued on like this was completely normal and them talking wasn’t making Kakashi lose his grasp on reality. His right hand reaching towards him but not quite touching. Respecting the boundaries now, after all the years full of insane amounts of stalking?
Making Kakashi question everything. Question himself, the dark eyes he is looking at, the painting haunting his life… Kakashi didn’t say anything back; he just kept looking, and looking and looking, trying to make sense of everything that had ever happened to him to put him at this point in time.
Kakashi kept his gaze at the creature from his nightmares; he couldn’t even blink when his beacon looked at him back. Because after all, that was the truth, wasn’t it? One of the most important truths of his life. The very person who changed and remade him, changing him from his body to mind and making him a new person entirely, years, decades ago, was now sitting right next to him, gaze locked and extending his hand as a peace offering like they were old friends. Really old friends, he thought as he reached back.
Were they even friends? He told himself they were once; they had to be because he couldn’t bear to live with himself if they weren’t before everything went to hell.
His personal hell full of agony and despair and heartache.
It was… It was like seeing a really messed-up double. As he kept looking, Kakashi’s over-fried brain kept adding the scars and the hate and the red, red eye on his handsome face, but the pieces just weren’t fitting in the puzzle as perfectly as they should.
He, Kakashi, wasn’t fitting in as perfectly as he should. They weren’t fitting perfectly anymore. Was that a good, or a bad thing? Were they that changed? Living in a world without any war, growing up surrounded by loving people, never lonely, never knowing true hunger nor pain…
Who are we, really? What are we? Are we still us or some botched copies of some people’s shadow of themselves? Why do his eyes keep focusing on his left one? Why does his own eye kept tearing up? Why is he reaching back towards him? Did he know? Did he also realize they were in the same exact position as the legends in the painting, paralleling it like it was a sick joke of the universe?
Maybe the Moon was a real being, and now she was cursing Kakashi for all his years of blasphemy of her name. At this point if a talking snake entered the room and began speaking about immortality Kakashi would just roll with it because what the actual f*ck-
Of course, Kakashi sighed, dropping his hand. Of course, he would meet with the oddest people on the entire planet. Just look at his best friend! His eternal rival was proof that the universe was there to make his life a divine comedy. Dante should be jealous of the bullsh*t in Kakashi’s life.
After a really disturbing amount of time later in a complete silence, his seatmate fidgeting worse as the time goes on, he finally breaks first, just like the old times “Okaaayyy. You have been quiet for a really long time, even for someone like you!” using his extended hand, he pointed towards Kakashi’s face, his body moving away from him, making Kakashi miss the warmth of him, “Don’t be mad, okay?” he folded his arms in front of his chest and started to glare at their painting, “Your research team said I had a higher chance meeting you here.” He gave Kakashi a side glance, pouting as he continued “Do you have to be so weird all the time, Bakakashi?”
“For a dangerous shinobi at your calibre how can you keep fidgeting where you are sitting- what the actual f*ck am I talking about?” Kakashi broke their staring contest to look at the painting too, hearing the apparent newbie in their group giggle like a hyena. Minato sense was going to murder him, using old scrolls going to bring him back to life and murder him again. Trying to explain to him the newbie came to here on his own free will is going to make him sound insane. ‘No sensei, I hadn’t kidnapped the newbie to get away from the meeting so we could watch the insanity together like fools in love, hand in hand’.
Kakashi closed his eyes and put his head on his hands, again, trying to make sense of everything, again. He was losing his own mind, losing just like he lost his eye like an idiot. Maybe he was having another episode? Just like after meeting Sasuke’s older brother a few years ago. He had freaked out everyone, including himself. Why did they even buy a crow as a birthday present for a nine-year-old? It wasn’t his fault the crow attacked him! Also, shouldn’t they be scared of him, considering his name and all?
Or maybe he was imagining this whole conversation! Kakashi raised his head suddenly, his gaze unfocused on anything. He latched on to the idea. Yeah! Yeah! Just like the time he was talking with his dogs about the some of the old reports he discovered at the old library when Rin, ever so kind, tried to explain to him his dogs couldn’t speak, hence the reason why they weren’t ‘reporting back’. For a moment there, he was so sure Pakkun had a really deep voice for such a small dog.
Yeah! That’s it! He was having some kind of hallucination right now! He probably hit his head so hard on the ground that his brain was out there to get him! But not today brain! Kakashi finally realized that the person next to him is just one of the ghosts of Kakashi’s own making. Just one more ghost of his past. One more person to add to his failures. He wasn’t really here! He was dead! Haha! Dead and deep under rocks far, far away from here. And Kakashi was lying on the ground, surrounded by his own mistakes, completely lonely in the historic room, only the painting acting as his friend, imagining the owner of the red eye in rich purples next to him, trying to have a conversation!
Wow… another new low for Kakashi. Imagining the legendary figure being real and acting as if they were old friends… That’s so pathetic… Really pathetic… Even for you. Did you really thought you had someone, just like you? Affected by life itself, looking for the truths and finding one in you? Did you really think you could ever escape being lonely, Kakashi? After digging up the graves of all the people around you, who loved and trusted you, did you really thought you could be happy? You could have him as your friend? You could ever see him again? Such a dumb little miserable piece of trash you are-
Suddenly, a hand waving right in front of his field of vision, a voice echoing in the room, a breath right next to his face, his body smelling like forest and ash as his other arm draped on his shoulder, shaking him. He was trying to get his attention. He was real. He was here. And he was doing everything in his power to be seen by Kakashi, and oh, how could someone be this full of joy even after all that torment? “Earth to Bakakashi,” he was saying, forcing Kakashi’s to focus on the present, forcing Kakashi to see him, “are you there? You have been sitting in silence for a long time, again, and it started to creep me out, and you should know how that itself is quite an achievement- wait, are you crying?”
He stared to panic, because of Kakashi, he started to panic. As he was freaking out, Kakashi’s left eye kept leaking, and he started to think deliriously, I did this to him. “Please don’t cry! I don’t know how to deal with crying people!” he was flapping around, moving to tidy the place around them, “The only time I had to deal with was Deidara! I was making him lose his mind with my act when he started to cry in frustration and, let me tell you, it was hilarious.” He smirked at Kakashi and dropped it immediately when he saw the pure confusion on his face. “But! But I really don’t know sh*t about how to comfort people! I am a piece of sh*t, Bakakashi!” he kept on running around, moving his bags all around the room, his hands opening for a hug, and then thinking better of it, pulling on his hair, wrinkling his shirt at the ends, wearing his orange glasses, and taking them off…
Orange glasses? As Kakashi’s gaze locked on his thick orange coloured glasses on his shirt, the panicking man took a defensive tone. “You keep doing this! Crying with only one eye and freaking me over it!” He was kneeling right in front of him now, putting his hands on Kakashi’s arm, finally touching him after so many hesitations, holding him softly, making sure he didn’t accidentally hurt him. Is this his own way of apologizing? His own way of promising to never hurt Kakashi?
Feeling really pissed off, Kakashi wanted to push his caring hands. Stop, he wanted to say, stop treating me like I am made of glass; I can take it. I took way worse from worse people and still managed to stand right in front of you; still breathing, still strong. His open hands closing in a fist he wanted to scream, you can’t treat me like this. I don’t deserve it. You can’t treat me like I deserve to be comforted by you when I hurt you in ways that are not forgivable.
But before Kakashi could give his piece of mind to his old teammate, fist clenched, his friends own hysteria beat him to it. “Why the f*ck are you only crying on the left, anyway? Did you teach yourself to cry like that to make me the forever the ‘crying baby’? Are you for real? How dare you? That is really messed up. How f*cking rude, Bakakashi!” now lost in his own narrative of Kakashi’s weird ass reflexes, he started to jerk Kakashi around, making him calm down and feel smug only for a second. After the second, the headache came back with a vengeance. Oh f*ck, f*ck, f*ck. I am a glass! A f*cking glass! Let me go-
As Kakashi readied himself to scream how much of a glass he is his brain managed to put two and two together, and instead of asking to be freed of his cage of pain he blurted out, rather offended, “The f*ck is a Bakakashi?” making his assaulter stop instantly, mouth agape, looking at him directly with a cute frown on his face, before letting out the biggest snort a human being could ever make.
He laughed and laughed and laughed, unashamedly, from deeply in his gut, heart and soul and just kept laughing. Shaking with it, he was still latching onto Kakashi, making him feel the pure joy he was feeling. Shaking Kakashi with him, he rocked them both in harmony with the music of his voice. Breaking Kakashi’s mental walls, his solitude, and little bit of his heart, easily, using only his voice.
Oh, Obito, the power you have over me… Even after all these years…
Oh, how much he had missed that sound.
Oh, how much he had cried and begged whoever was listening, sitting right in front of the stone, praying to hear that sound once again, looking at the sky, trying to see if anyone ever heard his prayers, decided to take pity on him and answer them.
But they never did.
He never did.
There was only him in front of that stone, looking at his own blurred reflection, seeing only the red gazing back. The red. His red. On his face. On his scarred face. On Hatake’s scarred face.
…He knew it.
As his friend’s laughter calmed down, he felt himself rising with him. Standing face to face, he felt his hands move away from his shoulders towards his hands, taking one of them in his grasp. As he was looking bashfully at Kakashi with the other hand, he reached for the bags on the ground, taking most of them on his shoulders and holding out one small sling back towards him.
Kakashi smiled back, feeling his eye crinkle he squeezed his hand in gratitude. Even with his mask hiding most of his face his friend could see the pure delight in his eyes. As his Uchiha backed towards to exit, body still turned towards Kakashi his own shock could be read easily on his face. Mouth open in a small happy shock, brows going towards his hair line, eyes sparkling like crystals, ghost of a red in them. He leaned in towards Kakashi’s ear as he still walked backwards, trusting Kakashi completely. He spoke between them, a whisper of a voice for only their ears. It didn’t even matter if there weren’t any people in the room with them; he still made sure any ghost of their past couldn’t hear his confession.
It was only for Kakashi and Kakashi alone.
So that’s why he leaned down towards him, creating a small dimension only they could enter once again, he breathed out, “I missed you.” with such a relief and bliss at his own confession, it made Kakashi feel weak in the knees. As he pulled away and turned towards the exist, pulling Kakashi behind him he cackled, “This is going to be really interesting, wouldn’t you agree Hokage-sama?”
And well… Kakashi had no other choice but to follow his other half to their deaths. “Lead the way, Obito.” Upon hearing his name come out of Kakashi, he turned towards him with a big goofy smile, “You remembered- Oh.” and he stood frozen as they exited the museum that had had Kakashi in its grasp for years.
He stood right in front of Kakashi, looking at his bare face, he started to blush. “It’s not fair! Why do you have to be so gorgeous- hmmb!” a small kiss, a thank you for letting him out of the cage, a sorry for the life before, and a promise for the future. A future with Obito? He didn’t know such a luxury was possible.
As they kept kissing, not minding the people around them, Kakashi wondered, how did I know his name? Obito was pulling him in, feeling his teeth on his lips Kakashi reached out toward him. Hands tugging on his hair, feeling the tongue in his mouth, he thought to himself, who did I just see in there, facing the dark stone? It couldn’t be me… right? Right before Kakashi could pull away to figure out what was happening, he heard Obito make a small noise, a breathed-out moan of his name leaving his lips and going towards Kakashi’s poor heart.
As they both parted in unison after a moment to take a necessary breath, their heads touching, they looked into each other’s eyes and started to laugh. Obito reaching out, he held Kakashi’s hand as they started to walk away, faces painted with happiness and hearts content as they walked towards the future they now, finally, shared together.
Kakashi threw one last glance at the museum. Behind the big glass windows was the painting of his, still full of heartache, but for the first time, when Kakashi looked at it, looked at his beloved blood red, red, red eye he could only feel love.
The love he had for this art, the fondness in his heart surrounding his Uchiha, the obvious passion the rivals held for each other in their postures, and the devotion in their gazes.
As he walked away from the history, he knew in his heart that this wasn’t the last time he was going to see the painting, but for now he was content. He was okay with walking away. When he turned back to see where his new love was taking him, his questions came back to haunt him once more.
Mah… who cares? Holding the hand of the boy he once worshipped and lost, with love in their hearts made Kakashi open his eyes for new possibilities in life. For the first time in Kakashi’s life, he stopped looking back at the past and focused on the future. He chuckled to himself. If people could believe a talking crow and a shark were best friends, he could believe in his gut and not his mind. For a while, that is.
As he smiled at the absurdity of the situation, Kakashi realized he didn’t need to know the answers immediately. Something in his gut is telling him he is about to find out everything eventually.
- The End -
A few hours later:
“Kakashi, I am at the museum. Where are you? It’s been 7 hours! Yes, it’s been 7 hours, stop trying to gaslight me! What do you mean you left the place on your own volition? Then, where are you? What do you mean you started to date the new guy! You haven’t even met him- YOU LOST YOUR WHAT?! What do you mean he is going to give you his f*cking eye- Kakashi! Don’t you dare close on me, or I swear I will- KAKASHI” Minato’s panicked voiced echoed in the empty museum.
“Minato is everything alright, honey?” Kushina touched the shoulder of his husband, turning him towards herself, and saw the dead eye stare of a man who had just lost his mind.
“Kakashi lost his f*cking eye.”
