You’d known Kakashi for years—though not nearly as long as most people in his life. Still, one question had always lingered in the back of your mind: what did he look like beneath the mask?

Ugly? Handsome? Something else entirely? You never admitted it out loud, but your eyes betrayed you, stealing glances whenever he raised food to his mouth or splashed water across his face. Always curious. Always wondering.

So when tonight’s casual meet-up slowly shifted into Kakashi tugging at his mask more than usual, you knew something was different. Something was going to happen. And you had a very good idea what that something was.

One tug. Two. Three.

“Can I trust you?”

The words left him more easily than you expected—no joke to soften them, no feigned indifference. Just quiet honesty. He didn’t backpedal, didn’t laugh it off. Instead, he let you take your time, watching as you gave a single, firm nod. He assumed you were too busy trying to piece together what he wanted to trust you with, rather than the weight of the question itself.

And then—there it was again.

Kakashi’s finger slipped beneath the edge of the thin fabric, thumb brushing against his index as if hesitating, testing the motion.

“I can… right?”

Right?

The thought echoed in his head, softer, more vulnerable than his voice ever allowed.

And then, with one final tug, the mask slid down to his chin.

He didn’t say a word. Didn’t need to. Instead, he watched you—watched every flicker of emotion cross your face. First the sharp sting of surprise. Then your jaw slackening, lips parting with no words to fill the silence. A heartbeat of stillness stretched between you, and finally… realization settled in your eyes.