A/N: Busy day today! :) Writing a personal statement for exchange applications is hard. (And a lot less interesting than writing this chapter!)
Rin floats out of the training room, uncaring that she is passing through several ANBU as she does so. She looks as though she has seen, well, a ghost. The brunette spots Sakumo and her eyes light up. "Sakumo-san!" Wiping at her eyes self-consciously, she comes bounding over. Kagami had already left.
"Rin." At the sight of her red-rimmed eyes, Sakumo bends down slightly in concern.
Her lips are pressed into a thin line. "I wish Kakashi had punched her, argh!" Her fists are clenched as she makes a noise of frustration.
There's a small commotion as Snake pushes through the crowded corridor (stepping through a very affronted Rin as well), throwing hasty apologies over her shoulder. "I'm going to haunt her for the rest of her life!" Rin threatens, glaring at the woman back. "She's going to suffer some real paranormal activity!" Sakumo can't help cracking a small smile.
Hyaku appears from the training room and throws her arm over Rin's shoulders. "Come on, we can have a taijutsu match of our own. Blow off some steam." The Uzumaki grins widely and Rin's frown deepens.
"Will Kakashi be alright?"
The elder Hatake smiles mildly. "I'm sure he will be, don't worry. You should go spar with Hyaku and take your mind off what happened. Just don't bully her too much, yes?"
Reluctant amusement pulls at the corner of Rin's mouth and Hyaku barks in laughter. "C'mon girlie. Your little boyfriend will be fine."
"H-he's not— K-Kakashi isn't—" Rin stammers, her face flushing hotly. Hyaku just smirks and takes off sprinting, Rin following hot on her heels, shrieking.
A genuine smile curls Sakumo's lips. He'll have to remember to thank Hyaku later.
Sakumo finds his son and Snake on the forested edge of one of the empty outdoor training grounds. Snake must have intercepted Kakashi on the way to the cenotaph. They're secluded enough that they don't bother hushing their voices and their conversation filters through the dense greenery before he glimpses them. Settling on an overhanging bough, the older Hatake peers down at them.
Kakashi's chakra is pulsing with agitation, ragged around the edges with the same anger and hurt that's written in his eyes. His mask hangs at his hip and without his hitai-ate, the Sharingan flashes blood-red from between silver strands. "You had no right to—"
"Do you think your enemies will care?" Snake cuts in sharply, her tone still infuriatingly calm. "Your weaknesses are so obvious that any enemy-nin with a half-decent knowledge of your history will know what to say and who to henge into."
Kakashi bristles. "What Rin looks like is hardly common knowledge."
"What about your father? The White Fang is no footnote in history and you're just as screwed up over him. Want me to prove it to you?" Snake's hand goes to her mask and Sakumo's breath lodges painfully in his throat.
"Don't." The anger bleeds out of Kakashi's expression, leaving his face pale. Sakumo can't decipher what his son's reaction means and the wondering spins his head.
The older ANBU drops her hand. "I see."
"What do you want from me," Kakashi asks flatly, his expression completely closing off.
"An opportunity to teach you."
Kakashi's eyebrows disappear beneath his fringe of spiky silver. "Your recruitment strategy is terrible."
"Should I be plying you with sweets?" Snake mocks. The dappled shade from the leaves above plays across her emerald-streaked mask as she juts out her chin. "What do you prefer, dango or ice cream?"
"Neither," Kakashi growls. "I don't need to learn your cheap tricks."
"Don't you?" Snake replies wryly. "Alright, I'll be the first to admit you're one tough cookie. In fact, after today's showing you'll probably be flooded with invitations from captains to join their teams. But let me tell you something. You'll be stagnating." The silver-haired teen is listening intently despite the way his eyes are narrowed in skepticism. "You have more than enough jutsus crammed in that brain of yours to kill a man a thousand different ways; learning more isn't going to help you. No..." she breathes, leaning forward slightly to meet Kakashi's gaze straight on. "You can feel it – what you're missing. Another jutsu isn't going to do it for you anymore.
"Even with all your masks and silences, you still feel so painfully you. You're trapped in your skin. Trapped in your head. Trapped in all those memories and regrets and it's just killing you, isn't it?" Snake straightens, scrutinising Kakashi through the black-rimmed slits of her mask. Her words have him mesmerised; his chest barely moves with each shallow drawing of breath and his Sharingan spins with indolent fascination. "I won't pretend to be able to release you — only you can do that. But I can teach you how to remake yourself into any image you want. You can be anyone and anything. You can control who you are."
It's unhealthy. It definitely is, living a make-pretend like that. But Sakumo can see just as clearly how much the notion captivates his son. She's got him now, a python winding herself around the legs of a half-grown cub, coils drawing tighter than a noose, breaking bones as she twists.
Just how much does Kakashi hate himself that he desires so strongly to become someone else?
"I'm an infiltration specialist," she says, pride in her voice. "This is my art."