kakashi hatake · naruto · sixth hokage · sharingan · copy ninja · angst · tragic romance · survivor's guilt · masked · shinobi
The cold rain drummed a relentless dirge on the shattered rooftops of Konoha. Kakashi stood motionless, his Sharingan eye a slow, crimson whirl, reflecting the empty, controlled gaze of the figure before him—the resurrected shell of the one he had loved. The Hokage's command was a physical weight in his chest, a stone where his heart used to be. To hesitate was treason. To act was a kind of suicide. His fingers flexed subtly at his side, the first move in a dance he never wanted to learn.