Chapter Text
“Maybe he has lips like cod roe…cod roe...cod roe…”
“Or maybe he has…buckteeth?”
Buckteeth
Buckteeth
Buckteeth
Naruto’s voice echoed unpleasantly, that self-satisfied smirk burned behind Sasuke’s eyelids, almost as badly as the image of his teacher with two giant, fleshy red lips or oversized teeth like a beaver’s—
“He doesn’t have giant lips,” Sasuke told himself through gritted teeth. It was almost four o’clock in the morning, and as tired as he was, his mind wouldn’t stop racing. “He doesn’t have giant lips.”
“How do you know?” countered Naruto’s voice, Naruto’s very, very annoying voice which should not have been filling his head at any time, let alone this late at night. Should he go for a run? Commit to one hundred pushups and exhaust himself into not thinking about lips or buckteeth, by Kami.
“We would be able to see the outline of them behind the mask,” mumbled Sasuke to no one. “I can see the outline of his nose and mouth. He has a totally normal nose and mouth.”
“Kakashi-sensei is smart,” Sakura’s voice joined the fray, and Sasuke groaned, shoving his face into his pillow. “What if his mask uses some sort of disguise jutsu?”
His sleep had been completely fucked up since leaving the hospital. Since being woken up from the torture-induced coma, Sasuke felt tired all of the time, but it was like his body wouldn’t allow it. When he did sleep, it was nightmare after nightmare of the bloody deaths in his clan’s compound, swords slicing through flesh and dark red
stains
against
the walls.
This was only marginally better.
“Why would anyone waste chakra on a disguise jutsu underneath a mask?” Sasuke asked aloud.
“Kakashi-sensei is always running out of chakra—”
Sasuke pressed his hands against his ears, which felt like a step too far. Naruto and Sakura weren’t actually in his house; they’d all split after their embarrassing failure, the failure that Sasuke couldn’t seem to shake off, no matter how many times he tried.
“What? You wanted to see what’s behind this mask?”
Humiliating, even. He was an Uchiha. He was supposed to be the best of the best.
“Behind this mask…there happens to be another mask!”
Sasuke’s face burned. Kakashi’s laugh, echoed in his ears, along with his own crushing disappointment, the stupid hope he’d allowed himself to build—never in his life had he felt like such a child, such an embarrassment, not even—
“Foolish little brother,” a familiar voice sneered. “To not even be able to see what’s underneath your teacher’s mask. I would be able to see what was under that mask.”
Sasuke scowled at the ceiling. Itachi probably would be able to see under Kakashi’s mask, especially since he’d managed to knock the man out into his own coma. Itachi had put Kakashi under the same type of genjutsu, and what, Sasuke was supposed to learn from him? That was supposed to be good enough training?
He’d tried giving Kakashi the benefit of the doubt, but it was obvious that the man didn’t want to be their teacher. It was obvious he felt saddled with three genin he didn’t want or like, and sure, the month Sasuke had spent learning Chidori almost convinced him otherwise, but Mr. Teamwork had totally abandoned Naruto during the same month, and he’d beat Neji.
Naruto beat Neji. Sasuke hadn’t even gotten to see the match, and his Chidori had proved nearly useless against Gaara’s sand, another enemy that Naruto had managed to defeat.
Naruto couldn’t see behind Kakashi’s mask, either, thought Sasuke, which was such a depressing counterargument that he buried his face even deeper into the pillow. He shouldn’t be comparing himself to someone like Naruto. He was supposed to be better, faster, stronger, sharper—
“To abduct Naruto is the number one priority of the Akatsuki.”
His stomach and head churned. He wanted to sleep. But every time he closed his eyes, images of his parent’s bodies and blood splattered against the floor now had Kakashi’s stupid face in them, fish lips bulging out and giant teeth chattering.
“Behind this mask…there happens to be another mask!”
Sasuke gripped the palms of his hands hard enough to break skin. He’d gotten his hopes up. Like a fool, he’d gotten his hopes up. That maybe, if they showed their stupid teamwork-sensei how willing they were to use said teamwork, Kakashi might show them. Or even better, that they really had improved enough to catch a glimpse on their own.
Instead of fat lips or buckteeth, Sasuke pictured another Sharingan bulging out from underneath the mask, hidden where no one might think to look. Two, three more Sharingan for Sharingan no Kakashi, a face filled with Sharingan like some fucked up skin disease.
“Foolish little brother,” said Itachi’s cold voice. “So weak that you cannot see what lies underneath your teacher’s mask. I myself have seen what lies underneath his mask—”
Sasuke’s eyes snapped open.
“No,” he said aloud. “There’s no way.”
What if, what if. Sasuke thought the voices couldn’t get any louder, the embarrassment and anger swirling through him, too weak to see under his stupid mask, and Itachi is targeting Naruto, and suddenly he could see Itachi walking towards his unconscious teacher, cruelly pulling down the mask to abate his own sick curiosity—
“If that man has seen under the mask,” said Sasuke, eyes twitching. He hadn’t slept for longer than five minutes in about seventy-two hours. “I’m going to jump off Hokage Mountain.”
No one answered him. No one except “buckteeth, buckteeth, what if Kakashi-sensei has buckteeth, what if he’s got a bright pink beard or a tongue like a frog or no teeth at all, hey Sasuke, what if he doesn’t have any teeth or he just has one really, sharp tooth sticking out in the middle—”
It was so much harder to tune Naruto out when he was tired. And suddenly, Sasuke’s bare feet were on his cold, wooden floor.
“Gotta know,” he murmured, delirious, stumbling out from his room. “Gotta know. Gotta know. Gonna jump off the mountain.”
Objectively, Sasuke knew he shouldn’t jump off any mountain. But he couldn’t get the image of Itachi out of his head, worse than it had ever been, bloodied hands and also pulling down Kakashi’s mask.
“Yes, little brother. I have seen your precious sensei’s face. I, alone, know the secrets of his face, secrets you couldn’t begin to guess—”
Sasuke was staring at his front door. “Fuck,” he said, slipping his sandals on. “Fuck.”
Even in his half-asleep state, Sasuke remembered where Kakashi lived; it was where he’d found him unconscious, after all, with only a few, precious seconds before he’d learned who the perpetrator was. He didn’t pass anyone in the late—or at this point, early hour—taking care to stick to the tree line, hands sweating and shaking.
“Maybe he has lips like cod roe…cod roe...cod roe…”
He was going to kill Naruto, Kakashi, Itachi, and then jump off of Hokage Mountain, in that order, oh yes, wouldn’t they love that? The last Uchiha, finally succumbed to madness, and Sasuke brainstormed ways that he might also destroy his Sharingan on the way down so no one could steal them out of his head when he found himself outside of Kakashi’s apartment.
He probably has traps set up, thought Sasuke, before throwing the man’s windows open and jumping inside anyway.
A cloud of smoke rose up, stinging his eyes and burning his hands, but he took a stubborn step forward. “Gotta know,” he mumbled. “Gotta know.”
“Sasuke?!”
Sasuke looked up. There was a kunai pointed at his face, which really wasn’t too surprising. Even less surprising at this point—
“You sleep in it, too?” Sasuke blinked, tears rolling down his face. From the smoke. Just the smoke. “Of course you sleep in it.”
“Sasuke?” Kakashi lowered the kunai but didn’t put it away. The red Sharingan swirled at him lazily. Did the Sharingans under his mask swirl, too? Did they all swirl together? “Did something happen?”
His teacher’s bedspread had a shuriken pattern on it. It was sort of cute, Sasuke thought tiredly, although the rest of the apartment was depressing as hell. His mask was attached to a tank top, because of course it was.
He heard Kakashi mutter “kai!” but Sasuke wasn’t a genjutsu. He didn’t think so, anyway. His stomach hurt too much. “We’re complete failures,” he declared monotonously. “We shouldn’t even have the right to call ourselves ninja.”
Was that fair to Naruto and Sakura? They’d sucked just as much as him at seeing under the mask. Maybe Naruto hadn’t really beaten Neji or Gaara, if he couldn’t even see under a stupid mask. “What’s the point of all of this training? What’s the point of any of it?”
“Failures? Sasuke, what are you talking about?”
Mortifyingly, his entire body was shaking. Everything he’d been obsessing over since running into Itachi and the coma finally coming together with every ounce of ire aimed at himself and the thin piece of fabric covering Kakashi’s face—actually, if he could just—
Sasuke took a flying leap at his teacher who yelped and rolled over, both of them crashing off the bed and onto the floor, as Sasuke struggled to find his grip. No height difference now, thought Sasuke deliriously, pulling wherever he could.
“I gotta see it,” he panted, as Kakashi pushed him back. “I gotta see it, I gotta see it—”
“Sasuke,” Kakashi was saying, Sharingan still swirling. “Did someone compel you to come over here? I’m not sensing any disruption in your chakra—ow!”
Sasuke stuck his elbow in Kakashi’s stomach. The next second, he was lifted into the air, held at arm’s length. “What,” said Kakashi. “Are you doing.”
Failure, thought Sasuke. I’m a complete failure of a ninja. And then, weirdly, he couldn’t breathe. He kept trying to inhale, obviously, but every inhale was accompanied by foolish little brother and his mom’s dead body and every exhale he could hear Naruto snicker, buckteeth, fish lips, fish lips, buckteeth.
“Hold on, can you hear my voice? Focus on my voice, Sasuke, alright? Can you breathe in with me?”
Buckteeth, fish lips, a tongue like Orochimaru’s, too long and dexterous, reaching for him in Sasuke’s nightmares along with everything else. A bright red beard, stained with blood.
“Come on, breathe with me, okay?”
Breathe in, and it was Itachi. Breathe out, and—
Sasuke gasped for air, fists clenched. Kakashi’s eyes were wide and way too close, and Sasuke could probably reach for the mask now, but it was so stupid. He was so stupid.
“What’s stupid?” asked Kakashi. Sasuke hadn’t realized he’s spoken out loud and wondered if jumping off of the Yondaime’s head still wasn’t an option.
“We really tried, you know,” wheezed Sasuke. “We tried working together, too, but it wasn’t enough, and if our teamwork’s no good, then what else are we supposed to do? I can’t even grab it on my own, not even by surprise—how the hell am I supposed to fight my brother?” He gasped for air again, eyes stinging. “How can I fight that man when I can’t even see under your fucking mask?!”
He hiccuped and slumped over. Kakashi’s arms had slackened. “My…mask?” Sasuke heard. “You’re this upset about my mask?”
Rage seared through him, sudden and hot, and Sasuke flung himself forward again letting out a yell. Hands diving directly at the piece of fabric, but Kakashi was blocking him easily. Too easily, too easily, too weak. “Let me go!” Sasuke screamed. “Let me see your face!”
“Why do you want to see my face?” asked Kakashi, far too calmly in Sasuke’s opinion. Not when he was imagining how he could push the man out of his own window. “It’s my face. You have your own face.”
Oh, this is it, thought Sasuke. This is the end. “You knew we were trying to see under your mask,” Sasuke gasped. “We worked together.”
“You didn’t use any ninjutsu,” he heard Kakashi say. “You’re not using any now—and that’s not an invitation, by the way. I happen to like my apartment. You could’ve poisoned me, instead of buying me ramen. You could’ve tried burning my clothes, instead of having Naruto spill tea on me.”
Kakashi’s dark eye met his own, somehow relaxed and stern at the same time. “If you really wanted to see what’s under my mask, you could.”
Sasuke bit his lip hard enough to draw blood, heart pounding furiously. “Then I’m not mentally strong enough,” he said, breaths ragged and uneven. “And that’s even worse.” He lunged forward again.
“Not trying to murder your poor sensei doesn’t mean that you’re weak, Sasuke.” Kakashi clicked his teeth together, buckteeth, buckteeth, while holding Sasuke back. “Maa, I thought we were having a bit of fun today.”
“Fun?” Sasuke repeated. “Fun?!” The room was spinning again, his chest clenching painfully, stomach and head aching like they had since he’d woken up at the goddam hospital. “He’s going to kill me, and he’s going to kill Naruto, too, and the Chidori didn’t work, and he kicked your ass, so how are you supposed to help me get stronger? I’m still so weak.”
Was he crying? It would be a thousand times more embarrassing if he was crying, but Sasuke couldn’t force his eyes open to tell. He felt Kakashi’s arms still.
“I think this is about more than my mask,” he said quietly, which was totally not true. If Sasuke could just see under Kakashi’s mask, this would be completely avoidable. “You had a run in with Itachi, too, and I should have talked to you about it.”
“I don’t want to talk about it. I want to see under your mask.”
“He’s a strong opponent, but he’s not invincible. You shouldn’t expect yourself to fight him, much less kill him right now. No one is asking that of you.”
He is, thought Sasuke, eyes still squeezed shut. He wants me to fight and kill him, but he knows I’m too weak.
Kakashi sighed. “And you’re right, he got to me, too. But you’re underestimating me if you think that means anything I could teach you is useless.”
“It is useless,” said Sasuke. “Unless it lets me see underneath your mask.”
“Did Naruto put you up to this somehow?” Kakashi asked, and then Sasuke let out a laugh, which seemed to startle Kakashi more than anything else had. “Neither of you know when to let something go. Maa, all three of you—”
“I want to see.”
“Sasuke, it’s obvious this is more—”
“Let me see it.”
“We can re-start your training tomorrow,” Kakashi was saying, but Sasuke’s ears were filled with white noise. With the bright line of focus he’d suddenly acquired, nothing else mattered. The nausea in his stomach would go away. He would be able to sleep, sleep, Sasuke was sure of it, and if he could sleep, maybe he wouldn’t fall over as much, which would probably be better for fighting Itachi.
“If you show me your face,” said Sasuke, head between his knees. “I’ll do whatever you want. I’ll stay here forever. I won’t look for help training or power anywhere else. I’ll take every dumbass mission where we clean a farm or walk someone’s fucking dog.” He let out a high-pitched wheeze, aware of how pathetic he sounded but unable to do anything about it.
Silence met his proclamation. Sasuke was a few seconds from taking another dive at the mask himself, or use a fireball, consequences be damned, when Kakashi responded.
“Look at me.”
As much as he didn’t want to, as embarrassing as this whole thing was, Sasuke did. He couldn’t read the strange expression on Kakashi’s face, although surely it would be easier with more skin to see. “Do you mean that?” Kakashi finally asked.
“You’re not even taking me seriously—”
“Dead serious, Sasuke,” said Kakashi lightly. There was something under the lightness that Sasuke was too exhausted to pick out. “You’ll do, what was that, anything I want if I show you my face? Such as staying in Konoha and not seeking out power anywhere else, or from anyone else?”
It’s a trick, Sasuke’s brain screamed, but he didn’t care. Nothing else mattered. “I promise,” said Sasuke. “On my honor as an Uchiha.”
It sounded stupid as soon as Sasuke said it out loud, but both of Kakashi’s mismatched eyes widened anyway. “And you weren’t drugged? You’re not on drugs right now?”
“Kakashi.”
“No one snuck anything into your food while you weren’t looking?”
“Kakashi-sensei.”
Kakashi looked up once at the ceiling, muttered something under his breath, and then stared at Sasuke’s stupid, watery eyes. “I’m holding you to that promise,” he said, before sliding the mask off.
He did it, he actually did it, I’m looking at his face, I’m looking at it, take that Naruto, take that Itachi, I’m really looking.
No buckteeth. No fish lips, although Sasuke’s Sharingan both whirled to life to sniff out any disguises just in case. A regular nose, a regular mouth, a regular chin, albeit with a small mole or freckle—
“What the hell?” asked Sasuke blankly. “There’s nothing wrong with your face.”
“Did you think there was something wrong with my face?”
No buckteeth, no fish lips, and no extra set of Sharingan lurking. A regular face. A boring, regular, face pinched with a mix of annoyance and concern, which Sasuke could see because he was looking at Kakashi’s face.
“I’m sorry if it doesn’t live up to expectations,” Kakashi started, but then a laugh peeled through Sasuke, and then another one, and then Sasuke was laughing so hard he could barely breathe. Again. “Um.”
“You have a totally normal face,” Sasuke gasped. “Totally normal.”
“Sasuke—”
But Sasuke was back on the floor, unsure how he’d gotten there. Face pressed against the floor, his own face, hiccupping and laughing, smiling splitting his face in half, his own face, and there was Kakashi’s face, he could still see it, staring at him, and Sasuke laughed even harder.
Take that, he thought, the past seventy-two hours without sleep crashing into him like a freight train. He couldn’t stop the sounds careening out of him, giggles and near-howls, in between gulps for air. Take that Naruto, take that Sakura, fuck you Itachi, I’m looking at his face right now, and you’re not.
Well, Sasuke wasn’t looking at his face anymore, because his vision was starting to blacken around the edges, blurring out the periphery as he wheezed. Blacking and blurring and oh, he was about to
pass
out—
Maybe that’s why sensei keeps his face covered, was Sasuke’s last, delirious thought. For our own protection.
And he didn’t even need the Sharingan.
**
Kakashi’s newly unconscious student had broken into his apartment, probably sustaining first degree burns from the exploding tags he hadn’t managed to dodge, and was now curled up comatose on the floor with singed pajamas and two-mismatched socks after laughing so hard at Kakashi’s uncovered face that he’d passed out.
Oh, his former classmates would certainly have something to say about how that had gone. No one had laughed at him like that in a long time. Kakashi would try not to take it personally.
“Minato-sensei,” said Kakashi, sighing and slipping his mask back on. The sun would be rising, soon. The Godaime was expecting him to report for a new mission, and his ankle was still throbbing from the last one.
“I’m not even sure you’d have an answer for this.”