Chapter 4: Kakashi's Silent Reflection
Kakashi Hatake had just returned from an arduous Anbu mission, one of many that kept him away from the peaceful rhythms of the Hidden Leaf Village. The streets were bustling with life, but he moved through them as if they were mere shadows—quiet, unseen, unnoticed. His silver hair, perpetually disheveled, fluttered gently in the breeze as he made his way to a familiar corner shop, the scent of ink and parchment filling the air.
It was a rare occasion when Kakashi found time for something outside of his duties. Today, however, he had a simple task: to purchase the newest volume of Icha Icha Paradise—Jiraiya's latest work, the one that was bound to be just as outrageous and absurd as the last. But as he reached the counter, the elderly book merchant greeted him warmly, his voice carrying a note of excitement.
"Ah, Kakashi-kun, you've come at the perfect time. There's something new you might want to see," the merchant said, with a twinkle in his eye.
Kakashi glanced at the counter, where an unassuming black book lay waiting. The title, No Longer Human, caught his eye—simple yet profound. He raised an eyebrow, intrigued.
"Hmm, what's this?" Kakashi asked, nonchalant yet curious.
"A new author. Dazai, I believe," the vendor explained. "It's different from Jiraiya's usual stuff. A little heavier, a bit more... reflective."
Kakashi couldn't quite put his finger on why, but the title intrigued him. Without much thought, he handed over the money. "Alright, I'll take it," he said, tossing the book into his bag before heading for the park.
It was quiet there, a peaceful contrast to the clamor of the village. Kakashi sat on a bench, still holding the Icha Icha in his hand, but for some reason, his fingers found their way to No Longer Human first. It was almost as if the book was pulling him in, its quiet allure too strong to ignore.
The first words hit him harder than he expected:
"I cannot even begin to understand myself."
Kakashi paused, his breath catching in his throat. The words seemed to reach into a part of him that he often tried to keep buried. The lines of the book resonated with an unexpected familiarity. He couldn't help but continue reading, despite his initial intention to dive into something lighter.
"I have never felt anything. No joy, no pain. I cannot even remember the last time I felt real emotion."
The words felt raw. The protagonist's inability to connect with the world was something Kakashi had experienced in his own way. He had always been distanced, a figure who seemed separate from the world around him. Even when he was surrounded by friends, comrades, or even his own team, Kakashi wore a mask—one he had perfected over years. His emotions had become like distant memories, fading into the recesses of his mind.
As he read on, Kakashi found himself reflecting on his own life, the long, difficult path he had walked. The protagonist's loneliness mirrored his own isolation as a child, as a shinobi, and even now, as a jaded adult. His role in the world had always felt like a performance—a script he followed without questioning, even as he played his part in the most dangerous of dramas.
The novel's protagonist, Yozo, was caught in an endless spiral of despair, unable to form any meaningful connection with others. Kakashi understood this, more than he wanted to admit.
"I don't want to be seen. I don't want anyone to look at me, to ask me what I'm doing, what I've become. But when I look at others, I see the same emptiness in their eyes. It's the same for all of us. We are all alone, wandering in the dark, pretending to be something we're not."
Kakashi's heart skipped a beat at the line. His grip tightened on the book as he felt a strange sting behind his eyes. The loneliness of Yozo seemed to claw at his own heart, and for a brief moment, Kakashi felt the weight of it all. He was just like Yozo—someone who pretended, who wore a mask to avoid being seen. His whole life had been about hiding his true self, about pushing down the emotions that threatened to overwhelm him.
The words continued to haunt him as he read deeper into the novel. Yozo's despair intensified, his alienation grew sharper, and the more Kakashi read, the more he realized how similar his life was to the character's.
"I have learned that people don't really care about anyone but themselves. They speak of friendship, of love, of loyalty, but none of it is true. They are all just actors, playing parts in a drama they don't understand. And I... I am no different. I play my part, but only to avoid being cast out. I am invisible, but that is the only way I can survive."
Kakashi stopped for a moment, staring at the words. He wanted to stop reading, to put the book down and shove the feelings it was stirring aside. But he couldn't. He kept reading, deeper into the abyss of the protagonist's self-doubt and his growing sense of disconnection.
The next passage hit him harder than he could have expected:
"I don't want to live. I don't want to die. I just want to stop existing, to cease being a part of this cruel world."
A cold shiver ran down Kakashi's spine. He could feel the weight of those words, the suffocating despair that filled them. Kakashi was no stranger to the weight of life, to the endless cycle of missions and battles, to the toll that being a shinobi exacted on the soul. He had lost so much, and yet, there were days when he wondered if he could even call himself alive. It was the same emptiness he felt whenever he looked into the mirror and saw only the mask staring back.
Before he realized it, tears were welling in his eyes, blurring the text before him. Kakashi could hardly breathe. He was overwhelmed by a sense of helplessness, the kind of desolation that no mission could ever prepare him for. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, but it didn't help. The words continued to echo in his mind.
"I am nothing. I am a shell. I am a man who has lost everything and who is too afraid to even look for something to replace it."
Kakashi closed the book with shaking hands, the weight of the words still pressing down on him. He wasn't sure how long he had been sitting there, but the tears kept coming. For the first time in a long while, Kakashi allowed himself to feel something. It was a relief, but it was also painful, a release he had denied for so long.
He sat in the park, under the fading light of the evening, not caring if anyone saw him. He had always been a shinobi, trained to be strong, detached. But as the words of No Longer Human seeped into him, he realized just how much of himself he had buried, just how much of his own humanity he had sacrificed to be what the village needed him to be.
And in that quiet moment, Kakashi allowed himself to grieve. He grieved for his past, for the friends he had lost, for the part of himself that he had hidden away. He grieved for the person he could never fully be.
It wasn't just Yozo's story anymore. It was his own.
.....
(A/N): this is a side project. So far how was it. If you like it leave a comment. And power stones.