Post by Rockinmuffin on May 12, 2007 17:49:14 GMT -5
This is my first entirely serious fic with Tobi in it, nothing at all like One Of Those Days. I didn't even make Tobi speak in third person in this one.
Warning: This one-shot is based heavily on the Tobito theory, which will probably just end up being inaccurate like every other Naruto fan-based theory. >.>
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“Why do you wear a mask?”
Tobi blinked at your question, though you couldn’t see it. Why did he wear that mask? He’d been wearing it for so long that he could hardly remember the reason anymore.
Was it to hide ugliness? No, that wasn’t the reason. Tobi, though he was no Itachi or Deidara, thought that his face was pleasant enough to look at for the most part. Besides, Zetsu-san wasn’t disgusted by his appearance and his was the only opinion that Tobi really cared for. Appearances really weren’t all that important to him.
Was it to protect against damage during battles? No, that wasn’t it either. Tobi already had more than enough scars on his face that a few more couldn’t hurt. The entire right side of his body, not just his face, was mutilated and where his left eye used to be was a dark, empty socket. Still, the left side of his body was covered with smooth, flawless skin, untouched by enemy hands or weaponry.
Was it to hide away from painful, half-forgotten memories? Tobi shook his head at this. No matter what the boy did, he couldn’t escape from his past, even though he could barely recall it. At night he would dream of a time before he used to wear the mask. His dreams were inhabited by the smiling face of a kind love interest, a proud look from a respected teacher, and a cool smirk from a rival-come-friend. Those faces and a mind-numbing pain in the right side of his body were all that he could recall from his past.
Tobi had no problem coming up with plausible reasons for why he would wear the mask, but he still hadn’t a clue of the real reason behind it.
Maybe it was a symbol; a new look for a new life. The orange color could represent his boundless energy and determination; his friendly, outgoing, and teasing personality. The spiral could represent how life is full of twists and turns, of how everyone may find himself or herself running in circles until they come to a point in their life when everything becomes clear and they see what must be seen; the single eye-hole.
Tobi still wasn’t entirely sure.
“So, why do you wear the mask?” you repeated, awaiting an answer from the boy.
All you received was a tilt of his head in response.
You briefly wondered if he was smirking behind that mask of his, taking amusement in the way his refusal to answer you caused you to cross your arms and give him a ridiculous, exaggerated pout.
“…Don’t know.”
“Hmm?” Your ears perked up at the boy’s voice; it was soft and smooth and left you with a warm, cozy feeling.
“I don’t really know why I wear a mask. I just do.”
You quirked an eyebrow and tapped your index finger against your chin in thought. Your eyes lit up suddenly and you directed your full attention back towards the boy. “Well, if you don’t know why you wear the mask, then surely you wouldn’t mind if I took it off of you.”
Tobi saw your hands come closer to his face, reaching out to grab a hold of the only thing shielding him from the outside world, but he didn’t move away. He couldn’t argue with your logic; he had no reason to keep his mask on so he found no reason to keep you from taking it off him.
He allowed his eyelids to fall as he felt the mask leave his face.
Tobi heard as you let out a gasp; he could feel the exhale of breath against the skin of his unscarred cheek. He nearly jumped as he felt a finger trace over the single scar over his useless eye socket but he managed to keep himself composed.
He couldn’t help but wonder if you were disgusted by his appearance, a morbid fascination drawing you to observe the scars that maimed his flesh.
“You’re beautiful,” you muttered softly, your breath against the flesh of his cheek causing Tobi to shiver lightly. “You shouldn’t hide yourself behind a mask.”
Tobi nodded dully, his eyes still closed as your fingers trailed down to grasp a hold of his chin. He knew he would put the mask back on, more out of habit than anything else. But now, as he sat quietly with you, his face unmasked and vision blocked by the back of his eyelid, he couldn’t bring himself to mind his face’s nakedness as you leaned your forehead against his, your breath now mingling with his own.
The mask was tossed haphazardly to the side, forgotten, and Tobi couldn’t be bothered by it enough to care.
Warning: This one-shot is based heavily on the Tobito theory, which will probably just end up being inaccurate like every other Naruto fan-based theory. >.>
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“Why do you wear a mask?”
Tobi blinked at your question, though you couldn’t see it. Why did he wear that mask? He’d been wearing it for so long that he could hardly remember the reason anymore.
Was it to hide ugliness? No, that wasn’t the reason. Tobi, though he was no Itachi or Deidara, thought that his face was pleasant enough to look at for the most part. Besides, Zetsu-san wasn’t disgusted by his appearance and his was the only opinion that Tobi really cared for. Appearances really weren’t all that important to him.
Was it to protect against damage during battles? No, that wasn’t it either. Tobi already had more than enough scars on his face that a few more couldn’t hurt. The entire right side of his body, not just his face, was mutilated and where his left eye used to be was a dark, empty socket. Still, the left side of his body was covered with smooth, flawless skin, untouched by enemy hands or weaponry.
Was it to hide away from painful, half-forgotten memories? Tobi shook his head at this. No matter what the boy did, he couldn’t escape from his past, even though he could barely recall it. At night he would dream of a time before he used to wear the mask. His dreams were inhabited by the smiling face of a kind love interest, a proud look from a respected teacher, and a cool smirk from a rival-come-friend. Those faces and a mind-numbing pain in the right side of his body were all that he could recall from his past.
Tobi had no problem coming up with plausible reasons for why he would wear the mask, but he still hadn’t a clue of the real reason behind it.
Maybe it was a symbol; a new look for a new life. The orange color could represent his boundless energy and determination; his friendly, outgoing, and teasing personality. The spiral could represent how life is full of twists and turns, of how everyone may find himself or herself running in circles until they come to a point in their life when everything becomes clear and they see what must be seen; the single eye-hole.
Tobi still wasn’t entirely sure.
“So, why do you wear the mask?” you repeated, awaiting an answer from the boy.
All you received was a tilt of his head in response.
You briefly wondered if he was smirking behind that mask of his, taking amusement in the way his refusal to answer you caused you to cross your arms and give him a ridiculous, exaggerated pout.
“…Don’t know.”
“Hmm?” Your ears perked up at the boy’s voice; it was soft and smooth and left you with a warm, cozy feeling.
“I don’t really know why I wear a mask. I just do.”
You quirked an eyebrow and tapped your index finger against your chin in thought. Your eyes lit up suddenly and you directed your full attention back towards the boy. “Well, if you don’t know why you wear the mask, then surely you wouldn’t mind if I took it off of you.”
Tobi saw your hands come closer to his face, reaching out to grab a hold of the only thing shielding him from the outside world, but he didn’t move away. He couldn’t argue with your logic; he had no reason to keep his mask on so he found no reason to keep you from taking it off him.
He allowed his eyelids to fall as he felt the mask leave his face.
Tobi heard as you let out a gasp; he could feel the exhale of breath against the skin of his unscarred cheek. He nearly jumped as he felt a finger trace over the single scar over his useless eye socket but he managed to keep himself composed.
He couldn’t help but wonder if you were disgusted by his appearance, a morbid fascination drawing you to observe the scars that maimed his flesh.
“You’re beautiful,” you muttered softly, your breath against the flesh of his cheek causing Tobi to shiver lightly. “You shouldn’t hide yourself behind a mask.”
Tobi nodded dully, his eyes still closed as your fingers trailed down to grasp a hold of his chin. He knew he would put the mask back on, more out of habit than anything else. But now, as he sat quietly with you, his face unmasked and vision blocked by the back of his eyelid, he couldn’t bring himself to mind his face’s nakedness as you leaned your forehead against his, your breath now mingling with his own.
The mask was tossed haphazardly to the side, forgotten, and Tobi couldn’t be bothered by it enough to care.
Ever notice how the word "therapist" is just "the" and "rapist" put together? Think about it. 