Author's Note: I have a billion other things I should be working on…fics, packing, getting ready for classes that start Tuesday, packing, transferring files, packing, etc…But for some reason I really felt like posting something, and this has been sitting around for a while on my hard drive, so I figured I might as well post it since I'm not happy enough with the Hebi fics that I have in the works to post any of them yet, though I do have a couple issues with this as well. Eh, oh well. That's what future editing is for.

All reviews and comments appreciated!

Disclaimer: Wish I owned some part of the copyrights/whatever and therefore would never have to work a day in my life, but I don't, so I'll probably actually have to get a job again.

Title: Beneath
Chapter: Oneshot
Rating: K+
Author: Singe

O0O0O0O

Naruto would never know his parents. He would never know he was an almost perfect image of his father, even though he had undoubtedly seen pictures of him, not to mention the visage of the powerful man looked down upon his son from the Hokage Mountain whenever the blond boy was in Konoha. Uzumaki Naruto would never know that he received both his personality as well as his last name, from his boisterous mother. It had been a conscious decision of the Elder Council to hide that he was the Yondaime's son by granting him the name of his mother. The villagers would always hate the Kyuubi for the lives that it had taken. There was no point in spoiling the legacy of the Fourth Hokage by connecting him to the child in whom the demon now resided. Not to mention the fact that the man had ultimately, regardless if that had been his true intention, chosen the village over his own son. What kind of father, the council wondered, would willing subject his child, his own flesh and blood, to the fate of being the host body for some demon?

So it was decided—despite the protests of those who had known the Yondaime and what he would have wanted best: his students, his teachers, his friends, his colleagues—that the boy would never know his father. And since the woman who had given birth to him was dead by then…Naruto would never know his mother either.

Uzumaki Naruto would not know why he was despised until the night the Council's edict was broken by the rogue Mizuki. He would not know how long it had taken Iruka to be able to look at him without flinching or without consciously forcing himself to even look at the boy. Naruto would never remember the years of his childhood spent under strict supervision by upper level shinobi. Nor would ever know, Kakashi suspected, just how many of his father's friends had been willing, had offered to become his guardian.

Granted, he could not have been placed within just any household. Whoever would have taken him in would have to have been strong enough to at least slow the Kyuubi down if it were to ever take control of it's host body and would have to be impartial to the fact that the demon did reside within the boy. Many, at the time, were more than willing to kill the boy to destroy the demon. But Kakashi knew for a fact that more than one powerful and capable shinobi had offered to take small child into their home.

Naruto would never know that he had been denied a home. And perhaps, his ignorance, in this case at least, was for the best. It was perhaps the one final thing that would destroy him completely, now that he had irrevocably lost his best friend and the family that he had tried so hard to build himself was unequivocally falling apart.

O0O0O0O

Sakura, Sakura, poor Sakura, Kakashi often found himself thinking with a bit of cynical amusement. The girl had no dark secrets, no hidden family past, and no great tragedy to befall her, save for her overly large forehead. Yet the girl for so long was so clueless, so oblivious to the maelstrom of secrets and lies that swirled constantly around Team 7. All she knew for the longest time, was that she wanted to be special to the attractive Sasuke (just like almost ever other girl her age), that she wanted nothing to do with the obnoxious Naruto (just like almost everyone her age), and that she wanted the infamous Kakashi to respect her skills (just like many other shinobi).

She had known almost nothing of the Uchiha massacre. What she had known, she had overheard as a child in the hall outside the teacher's lounge at the Academy after delivering a note to one of the teachers, or so Kakashi suspected. It had been a decision of the Council that the younger children at the time did not need to know of the bloodshed that had occurred within the city, that it would only cause unnecessary fear. Some of the smarter ones—and those with family members prone to gossip— had probably known. Sasuke was kept at the hospital under heavy guard for several months, so the boy could both be protected and interrogated about what had happened.

Kakashi always hoped that the dark haired boy would never suddenly remember the voice of one of those interrogators. He had hated himself for having to force information out of a traumatized and confused child.

Sakura, just like every other shinobi and civilian her age, had known nothing of the Kyuubi beyond the horror stories told to small children. The beast was more mythical to her than anything, something to be dismissed by her analytical mind. Demons like that couldn't really exist, could they? she perhaps had thought. After all, if such things existed, surely the Elder Council would make certain they would never be able to harm Konoha, would make certain that such monsters were killed, or captured, or something.

So she had disliked Naruto simply because she could, simply because everyone else did. Perhaps it was because the boy was so loud, so in your face, or because he was so stupid. She didn't think much on it, probably, because it simply was how things were. What difference did it make? He was just some boy.

O0O0O0O

And as he had run through the corpse-strewn streets of the opulent Uchiha district, deep down, he had almost felt relieved. There was no one left. No one left to judge and assume and glare at him as he passed, simply because they believed—they were taught—that he had robbed one of their clansmen of his Sharingan as the Uchiha had laid dying. It was over. He alone was left to bear the burden of the infamous kekkai genkai.

And then, through the small radio transmitter hidden within the ANBU mask, came the frantic demand for a medic nin, because holy shit they had found a survivor, a boy, one of Uchiha Fugaku's sons, and may the gods help them all if Fugaku was still alive and one of his sons—who had somehow survived the attack that had claimed so many others— died because the damn medics had been too slow.

It had been a long time, it seemed, before Kakashi had learned which son had survived.

But within the hour, he knew Fugaku was dead. He had been in the squad that had discovered the bodies of both the clan head and his wife. There were no signs of life or of more bodies within the large house. Wherever the other son of Fugaku and Mitoko was, he was not at home.

A vague part of his mind had hoped it was Itachi that had been found, and that his younger brother had been far, far away from the Uchiha district before the slaughter. But the rest of his mind told him—based on his own experiences working with Itachi once or twice on missions—that there was a reason why only one of them had been found.

After Sasuke had awoken from the Sharingan induced coma, his suspicion was confirmed.

And then, years later, he was given the files of the three new Academy graduates who would attempt to become his genin team. The first, a girl whose name and face he had not recognized. A pale skinned boy whose features were only all too familiar stared defiantly at him from the second file. He had quickly turned to the last file to escape those almost accusing eyes and that definitely accusing last name of Uchiha. The third genin just so happened to have the Kyuubi sealed within his body. Lovely. It had made him wonder why he had never bothered to try and assassinate the whole of the Elder Council before.

Uchiha Sasuke had surprised him. True, he had the same cold arrogance that seemed to be almost trademarked by the Hyuuga and Uchiha clans, but in some ways, the boy was everything a soldier from either of those bloodlines was not supposed to be. While he had the cold demeanor of both his father and older brother, he had also been the first to offer food to Naruto during that initial exam, despite being expressly forbid not to. He had nearly gotten himself killed trying to protect the same boy from Haku on the first mission Team 7 had that was outside of the village. The boy had seemed willing to protect his comrades, despite his obvious disdain for them, despite a heritage that claimed the mission always, always came first, regardless of the body count.

Kakashi saw what he had been and what he could have been in the boy. He saw an Obito not fettered by his prestigious family in Naruto. He saw a stronger version of Rin in Sakura, though the girl was initially unaware of her own abilities. The only thing that did not fit the reflection was he himself. Kakashi knew he was no Yondaime, knew he would never really be like the man who had taught him so much once upon a time. And he knew most men would not have been grateful of that knowledge.

Sasuke had never asked him about the Sharingan, nor had he ever said or done anything to indicate he was disgusted by his Jounin teacher possessing something that by all rights should only belong to him and his damned brother. Sasuke had never asked, and he had never offered to tell. The boy would never know there had once been an Uchiha soldier who had not been callous and blinded by his duty to the clan and to the village.

Uchiha Sasuke would never know the past of his family. He would only ever hear the stories and legends told of long-dead Uchiha shinobi and leaders. He would never read the clan histories hidden away within the Elder Council's sealed and heavily guarded library, only the time worn scrolls that the Uchiha had hidden within one of their own shrines. And maybe proof of Uchiha who were not just soldiers would have changed things. Maybe the boy would have remembered that his mother had not taken missions since she had been married and that his illustrious father had only taken missions within the village after the birth of his sons. And maybe Kakashi wouldn't feel so unsettled about being the last soldier to possess the Sharingan who was still loyal to Konoha.

O0O0O0O

Kakashi wondered sometimes what it would be in charge of a genin squad filled with average genin, not those whose own lives were heavily monitored and directed by outside political powers. Sometimes he wondered about the other instructors of this generation, if they had faced any of the issues that had been constantly present during the tenure of Team 7. Did Kurenai carefully choose her words so as not to bring up past insults and criticisms given by disappointed elders? Did—had—Asuma dodged important questions from a too observant student? Did Gai ever have to attempt delicacy when forced to speak about certain personal, familial matters concerning the powerful clans of Konohagakure? Hell, it was no wonder Iruka was so damn overprotective of the lot of them, with how little the kids really knew, despite what the majority of them had been forced to endure in their lives.

Granted, everyone had secrets, regardless if they were a soldier or civilian, an average citizen or member of an ancient clan. True, these secrets tended to be bloodier and more depressing when it came to the shinobi villages, but it is in human nature, Kakashi thought, to hide at least part of what you know. It was just unfortunate, he supposed, how often ones past and privacy were granted to anyone but the one to who it should be reserved. So Kakashi remembers.

The legends, the rumors, the facts. He remembers all of them with equal impartiality. It is not his job to judge or soften the blows whenever they finally land. He is only to hold on to the things that never should have been hidden in the first place. Kakashi remembers all the things his students will never likely know, or at least the things they will never know until it is too late to matter. And maybe not telling them what he could have would have made a difference, would have softened the blows that had already hit home. But one can only do so much while under orders…especially if the jounin in question has known nothing but obedience to his land for as long as he can remember. So Kakashi waits.

One day, he assumes, Tsunade will be forced to remove the veil of secrecy that so thickly obscured the lives of more than one generation of Konohagakure citizens. Perhaps she will do so against the Council's wishes, or maybe in a drunken rant some night where someone has just pushed her too damn far. Maybe one day Naruto will come back from a mission covered in the blood of his best friend, and then promptly fall completely apart. And then Tsunade's soft spot for the blond brat will make her lash out, make her tear down the veil that had been institutionalized and reinforced for so damn long that even the Council itself doesn't even remember what the truth is.

Kakashi sometimes wonders if he will have any secrets left to reveal when that day finally comes. And more often than not, he wonders if he will even remember the things he had once ordered himself to save to memory. But for now, he knows which of the village's dirty little secrets are actual fact or just rumor. And he hopes—prays—that it will be enough.