The hilt was soft in his hands, his breathing steady, the blade a familiar friend. The only other sound was the breathing at his shoulder, more erratic than his own, still hoping, still expecting. His hand loosened for a second and he knelt briefly on the ground to place the tanto down. The breath behind him hitched and he hesitated, then shook off his uncertainties. Reaching to the bottom of his collar he pulled the mask over his head, the forehead protector coming with it. He bared his face to the world and stood once again, leaving the fabric on the floor in the dust.
He took a minute to examine the blade once more, turning it in his hands, before sheathing it over his shoulder, down the centre of his back.
"I'm ready." He stepped forwards, his breathing still steady. They would think he didn't care, think him oblivious to his fate, but he wasn't going to let them see his anguish. It had taken a lifetime to hide.
He stepped into the room, into the circle of white-masked figures, and stopped a respectful distance from the only figure unmasked, barely a foot from the raised plate at the Hokage's feet. He ignored the badly-suppressed gasps at his unconcealed face, and wondered when it had come to the point when no one knew him by sight. The strange triangular hat looked odd on his Hokage's head, concealing much. He could see more when he dropped to his knees and placed the short sword on the plate in front of him, but he didn't look up. He didn't need to see. Soft eyes looked down on him, and the breathing of the man at his back settled.
"You don't have to do this." The Hokage's voice was tired, the decision made long ago.
"I have failed in my duty. Ninja have died. Children have died." His voice was harsher than he realised, belying his face's calm.
"Think about those lives you have saved."
"They do not outweigh those lost, nor could they even if their numbers were greater."
"Then think about the lives that still can be saved." That voice was pleading now, and he wondered how short of warriors the village must be, if the Hokage would plead for his life, even after so many had judged this ending fair.
"Think about those that might still be taken, Hokage-sama. You would not be here if you thought I could be saved, or my mistakes absolved."
"But… this way?" The voice broke, heavy with something he could not name.
"Let me regain my honour." His voice was cold now, he had said his piece.
"You… You will be missed." The Hokage bowed respectfully, and stepped back to merge with the circle.
Kneeling had spread the front of the white kimono, and bowing his head to the ground spread it further. He sat up and lifted the blade from the plate, feeling its weight and balance in his hand. There was the long drawn-out sound of a sword being drawn at his back and a shuddering sob from one of the masks stood behind the Hokage. He scowled internally – he'd asked she not be present. He's spent so long fixing his facial expression that nothing showed externally. His grip tightened around the blade, and he blocked the noise she made from his mind, turning his hands to an unfamiliar position to point towards him. He brought the point to his belly and as he breathed out the blade touched his skin.
He took a slow breath in, savouring everything.
On the next exhalation he plunged the blade into his midsection.
Naruto, Sasuke… I'm sorry.
The blade behind him sang in tune with Gai's battle-cry.
Hatake Kakashi's honour was restored.