The black piece of cloth covering the lower half of his face was not the only thing that was masked about Hatake Kakashi. The man was surrounded with such a sense of secrecy that people wondered if there was something seriously wrong with his face, or just something seriously wrong with his mind. He was a tall man, and from his sandaled feet to his unkempt white hair, Kakashi was the picture of skill and confidence. He had a thin but muscular frame, with his gloved hands always shoved deep into his pockets. When he slouched slightly, it wasn't because he was unsure of himself; it was because he honestly didn't care what others thought.
His mismatched eyes told a different story, though. The scar running through his left eye told of a violent history, and his right eye, no matter how bored or happy or fierce it looked, always held a look of being haunted by regrets. He kept so many secrets bottled up in that genius head of his that some of them just had to leak out of his haunted eyes. There were very few who could claim to truly know the man. None of his students were brave enough to ask where he got his scar, or why his hair was stark white when he was only twenty-six, or (horror of horrors) why he never took off his mask. Even if they worked up the courage to ask the question, they knew he would never answer with the truth.
"You're late!"
"I got lost on the road of life."
Truer words had never been spoken, no matter how much they tended to infuriate his students. The man known as Hatake Kakashi hadn't just happened. He had been built, slowly, painfully, piece by piece. The mask was because of his shame for his father; the tattoo on his arm was a symbol of all the lives he had taken without question; the sharingan eye, which had been hailed as his greatest strength, was an ever-present reminder of his greatest failure. Even his normal eye had a story, its half-lidded expression coming from thousands of sleepless nights, when it was all Kakashi could do to hold on for dear life as the waves of regrets came pounding over him, drowning in seas of accusing faces. He dreaded the day when the next piece would be added to him, cutting out another chunk of his heart and getting him more and more hopelessly lost on the road of life.
He kept it all behind the mask, locked up tightly, and yet, he had never felt less in control. He was so far lost that he didn't even know where the road of life was anymore.
But… then he met someone who did, a gutsy blond kid who never went back on his word, never gave in, never ever gave up. The same kid who was always ragging on him for being late. A kid who loved ramen and was constantly telling anyone who'd listen that he was going to become the next hokage. That kid wasn't lost on the road of life. No, he knew exactly where he was going. If he said he was going to become hokage, it would happen. He said he'd finally bring peace to their war-torn village? He'd make it come true, or die trying. And Kakashi would help him in the best way he could. He'd follow him until the very end. He'd forever follow the student who made him finally feel less lost.
Hatake Kakashi believed in Uzumaki Naruto.