Truth about a Mirror
By: Wah-Keetcha
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Not mine, ever. I just like playing with them really.
Summary: Kakashi Hatake hates mirrors, he doesn't even own one.
Author Note: Got back into Naruto after stumbling across a HP/Naruto story that awoke my love for Kakashi and the mystery that surrounds his character. Just a quickie about why I think Kakashi wears the mask and why he doesn't own a mirror. Idea for title from the George Strait song 'Troubadour'. Uh, review if you deem it worthy.
(Break)
Kakashi Hatake hates mirrors.
He doesn't even own one.
Well, unless you count the ladies make up mirror he keeps on the small shelf just above his bathroom sink. Compact to fit in a ladies purse or wherever else they keep things like that, the make up inside untouched and a vulgar shade of red, the color always reminding the ninja of blood with the lid open. Carelessly soapy fingers brush over the reflective surface as the man angles it so he can see properly, the tiny mirror only showing a small piece of his unmasked face at a time. Without a second glance and with the ease born of practice Kakashi runs the freshly sharpened razor over his soapy jaw line, only moving the small mirror a fraction, never once revealing his full face. Wincing as the razor brushes over the sensitive flesh of the scar he quickly moves along, not allowing himself to stall on the memories of the wicked marking. Careful but quick strokes shave off the light silver colored hairs from an angular jaw and from around a stubborn mouth, the area beneath a narrow and straight nose. Deftly the razor is plunged into the sink bowl filled with soap and warm water and just a hint of oil as his Sensei told him to use.
"Just a touch now, not too much. With that mask on your skin will get irritated, so better to give it some protection." Sensei had warned, flicking his wrist and depositing the mint smelling oil into the sink bowl. A teenage Kakashi had watched as the light green liquid mixed with that of the steaming water and soap an idle hand going to scratch at the irritating hairs through the light material of the mask, annoyed with their sudden growth and the inconvenience of it all.
"Stand here." Minato instructed his charge, hands on the younger ninja's shoulders as Kakashi took his place before the sink, clad only in his dark pants and black mask. Minato rolled his eyes and deftly hooked his slender finger around the edge of the black material deaf to the young student's protests and quickly stepped away from his teacher.
"How do you expect to shave if you don't remove it?" Minato had asked then, his tone light but expression sour as he gazed at the stubborn teen. Kakashi, at that time didn't have an answer and chose to stare at the sink instead, his fingers clutching the sink. Minato was at a loss for words, having been one of the only people who ever saw the teen without the black material and even then it was a rare occurrence.
"What makes you hide your face Kakashi?" he asked softly, dropping a comforting hand to the slim shoulder, then nothing but wiry muscle and sharp bones. Kakashi flicked his eyes up and titled his head slightly, taking in the image projected back at him by the slightly fogged mirror. Behind him he could see his Sensei's face, expression patient but worry flashed through his bright blue eyes.
"I resemble him." Kakashi had ground out, his words clipped with a growl of annoyance. The teen never spoke of his father, never said his name and in all respect tried not to think of the man who abandoned him in such a dishonorable way, leaving his son to take the brunt of the village's contempt for the Hatake name alone.
"Some people would say that resembling your father lends you his strength, if not that than it shows you have good strong genes that you'll pass onto your own children!" Minato smiled cheerfully but the smile quickly faded as he took in the dejected posture of his young charge and the snort that accompanied the eye roll. Minato frowned at this reaction but decided not to comment.
"Well, in order to perform this task, you will need to remove the mask." He stated, simply avoiding the hazardous road the conversation was going down all together.
For now.
For a moment the two stood silently, locked in a battle of wills as two mismatched eyes met the bright and clear blues of his Sensei. Minato didn't back down from the often captivating and unintentional spell of the Sharingan eye that twirled madly. Finally the teen sighed in defeat and pulled down the mask, revealing the overly stern features of a youthful face. Minato smiled and directed his charge to turn back to the mirror, noting at the quick stiffening of the boys shoulders as he caught his image in the mirror. Eyes widened a fraction.
"I don't want to see this." Kakashi snarls in anger and slaps his palm down on the glass, covering his with a pale hand, crating a flesh mask over his lower face. Minato shook his head and reached out, intent on pulling the arm away but Kakashi stayed defiantly stuck, refusing to budge, even when Minato pinched the sensitive nerve in the teen's elbow Kakashi didn't move.
"Kakashi, please. This is becoming childish." Minato snapped, his annoyance with his charges defiance finally reached the boiling point of the man's tolerance and the end of his patience.
"It's not childish." The teen snarled the scar that ends just beside his narrow lips moved when he spoke, a gesture that use to reopen the nasty slice and cause the teen extreme discomfort. Minato simply crossed his arms and leaned back against the closet door, his expression neutral as he stared at his student.
"Then what is it exactly?" he asked, voice soft and even as Kakashi's eyes boiled with rarely seen anger. His mouth opened but closed again with a distinctive click of his teeth hitting and turned away from the mirror and crossed his arms over a defined chest.
"I can't look at myself Sensei, without seeing my father and my failure to save Obito. Every time I see my face-his face I realize just how worthless I am." The teen stated softly, his expression one of immense sadness and self hatred. Minato is shocked silent by the words and took a moment to collect his thoughts, but before he could voice them Kakashi continued.
"I look too much like my father; the villagers treat me just as they treated him. So, if I hide my face… perhaps they'll forget I'm a Hatake and just Kakashi, the weird one with the mask." He justified openly and glanced sheepishly at his teacher, finding the other Shinobi's bright blue eyes shining with tears. Slowly Minato placed his hands on the teen's shoulders and shook his head.
"Your not your father Kakashi and the villagers just have yet to see the greatness within you, once they do they'll rethink their cruelty towards you." He stated, staring into the dark, natural eye of his student before moving on hand to cup the pale cheek. His thumb traces the still tender scar adorning the younger Shinobi's face and clutched the thin shoulder when Kakashi tried to move away.
"You may not have succeeded in saving Obito Kakashi and I know this is hard for you, but it's not something to be ashamed about. You tried, that's the best anyone could ask of you. Obito wouldn't want you to beat yourself up over his death, he'd want you to move on and think of him fondly. I'm sure that if he blamed you, he wouldn't have given you this." Minato said softly as he runs a light finger over the flickering lid covering the Sharingan eye, feeling the muscles twitch and jump.
"He may not, but I blame me." Kakashi breathed and Minato slumped his shoulders in defeat, knowing that the self loathing Kakashi was experiencing couldn't be dispelled by words by him. He shook his head and patted the shoulder, his other hand grasped the narrow chin, lifting it up so Kakashi was forced to look at his Sensei.
"I don't blame you Kakashi, I want you to know that. I don't blame you, Rin doesn't either." But the words seemed to slide off the invisible shielding the teen had put up around him, a barrier built to keep the stinging insults thrown at him from hitting home too deeply but seem to always fail.
"How about we get on with teaching you to shave?" Minato suggested cheerfully, rubbing at the stubble that adorned the younger Shinobi's jaw line. Kakashi nodded urgently, thankful for any reason to dispel the emotion clogging the small room.
"Alright, I'll be right back." Minato stated and quickly exited the room, heading for his kitchen. Kakashi waited patiently for the man's return. Minato did return only moments later a paper bag and some tape in one hand and was holding something small in his other hand. Without a word the blond taped the paper bag over the mirror and turned back to his student, holding out a bright pink oval case. Kakashi stared at the item and cocked a thin eyebrow, his expression set in confusion.
"You need a mirror in order to shave Kakashi, if you don't you'll be all nicked and cut up from not being able to see properly. But, because looking at yourself causes you distress I'm giving you this ladies compact." Minato explained with a wry smile and watched as Kakashi gently lifted the lid, exposing the tiny mirror. For a moment the teen just moved the mirror around, glaring hotly at it before nodding his acceptance.
"Alright, show me how to do this." He stated and held up the tiny mirror, revealing just his scarred cheek in the surface. Minato shook his head sadly and begins to instruct his student once more.
Sadly, it would be for the last time.
It was one of the many lessons the silver haired ninja kept since his Sensei's passing along with the compact mirror and his memories. Completing the daily task with a final swipe with the razor Kakashi's scarred and nicked hand plunges into the warm water mixture and swishes before replacing the razor on the shelf. A soft click fills the room as the small mirror is closed and also put in its rightful place. The villagers have often speculated on the reasons behind the ever present mask and the strange aversion to anything reflective, their ideas ranging from horrendous scarring and a deformity to simply being so ugly he'd scare women and children.
But none of that was true.
Mirrors show your true self, reflected back at you with a shockingly cold reality. Every sin, every mistake, every failure is standing there, looking back at you, mimicking your every move. For Kakashi he seems Obito's death and his failure within the swirling iris of the always active Sharingan, it's red coloring reminding him of all the blood he's spilt. In his face he sees his legacy, the legacy of the White Fang and also the harsh words and hatred it brings with it.
Mirrors show the truth.
And sometimes, Kakashi just isn't strong enough to see what he truly is.
Author Note: Uhh… this was meant to be a short, quick one shot but somehow evolved into a 4 page story. Amazing how that happens huh? So, what'd ya think? Don't complain to me about my punctuation or stuff like that, I do the best I can and am not overly anal about it. This is simply for fun.