Here's another little piece for your enjoyment
I've been writing a lot of angsty stuff recently and while i wouldn't call this angst its definitely still in that mien. I'm not sure what the genre is in fact... I didn't really know what to call it either but I'm happy with the fic itself. Please excuse any typos etc, it's not been betad.
Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto, if I did Yondaime-sama would be in every single chapter and on every single chapter cover :D
In Plain Sight
How long had Kakashi known Naruto now? Five and a half years? Six even?
He'd known of him since before he was even born but had avoided him, believing he had nothing to offer the young boy who reminded him so very strongly of the loved ones he'd lost.
Upon meeting the newly graduated genin, Kakashi had been both pleasantly and unhappily surprised to find that while he had clearly inherited traits and appearances from both his parents, he was very much an individual as opposed to the carbon copy of his sensei the jounin had been expecting.
This revelation had Kakashi resenting the young blond, irrational as it may have been. And yet he was simultaneously grateful for the small mercy that he would not be faced with a younger version of the now deceased blonde, whom he still missed sorely every day.
Now, however, he had to question that assumption.
In the last year Naruto had grown faster than anyone had imagined possible.
In the space of just a few months he had completed a jutsu that had previously been considered impossible and with it had defeated Kakuzu, a near immortal S-ranked missing nin who had even survived fighting the legendary Shodaime.
Mere weeks later, Pain had attacked the village. Naruto had not only defeated the six paths of Pain, but had also convinced Nagato not only to desist in attacking Konoha but, all be it unknowingly, to revive the shinobi who had fallen in the struggle, Kakashi himself included.
From there he had gone on to gain control of the Kyuubi's power and used it to single-handedly turn the tide of the Fourth Great Shinobi War. The simple truth was that without him they could never have won.
As if this wasn't enough to prove that he really was Minato's son, Kakashi had found one final piece of evidence that proved it without a doubt.
His sensei had been the perfect shinobi, never showing emotion yet always putting on a mask that made everyone feel at ease and made you believe that what he was showing you was the truth, that it was all there was to him.
It had taken him years to notice but now that he had, he knew that, more than anything else, Naruto had inherited that one particular skill more than any other.
Over the years Kakashi had seen the youngest and last Uzumaki using that amazing ability of his, the same one he had used on Pein. No matter how many times he saw it, the grey haired jounin was still in awe. It didn't matter who the blonde's opponent was, nor their beliefs or motivations. Naruto seemed able to connect with all of them, never resenting their actions, instead motivating them to change their ways and giving them a newfound belief in a new future, one of peace.
Through it all Kakashi had believed every word his young student had said, or at least that he himself believed it.
Now he wasn't so sure. He couldn't deny that he had faith in the boy and believed that if he stuck to his goals he would achieve them. To date Naruto had never once given up on a dream, no matter how impossible it seemed so Kakashi couldn't even doubt that. What he had begun to question was whether or not the jinjuriki would even be able to keep it up, that mask, because now that he'd seen it he couldn't help but marvel at the effort that alone must take.
Even with the Sharingan Kakashi couldn't see the future but he had already seen the past. Every shinobi he knew lived behind a mask, some more subtle than others, that would never change but maybe it was possible to make that mask a reality.
Minato, Kushina, Jiraiya, Obito and Rin. All of them had believed in the same future as this blonde enigma he called his student. None of them had succeeded but perhaps, just perhaps, they were never intended to. Maybe they were simply paving the way for this boy, their legacy who had inherited all their dreams.
Maybe that was his job too.