The Kamui space was eerily silent, an endless void of darkness stretching in all directions. Only Kakashi and Obito stood within it, the emptiness amplifying every word, every flicker of emotion.
Facing Obito so closely, Kakashi's heart was torn in ways he couldn't easily describe. On the surface, his voice had been steady, his words carefully chosen to deceive, but deep inside, he was wrestling with emotions far more complex than he had anticipated.
The Obito before him was not the same boy he once knew. He was a man scarred by tragedy, twisted by grief, and eroded by hatred. The weight of Rin's death and the cruelty of the shinobi world had carved deep scars across his soul.
Kakashi let out a bitter laugh, though it carried no joy.
He had spoken words of comfort, words meant to manipulate, and yet… they had come so naturally. Almost too naturally.
Why?
Why did he feel no hesitation?
Why did the lies slip so easily from his lips?
Perhaps because, on some level, they weren't lies at all.
"Obito…" Kakashi's voice was low, heavy with conflicted sincerity. He lifted a hand to his face, touching the scar that crossed his left eye. "…Take my Sharingan."
Obito stiffened. His lone visible eye trembled, widening in disbelief. His chest rose and fell sharply as emotions warred within him. He wanted to believe Kakashi. He wanted to reject him. He wanted to hold onto the hatred that had kept him alive, yet also to embrace the bond he thought long lost.
"Kakashi…" Obito's voice broke slightly, trembling like a boy's rather than the voice of a hardened villain. "Do you… really understand me?"
For so long, no one had. For so long, his pain had been his alone to carry.
Kakashi closed his eyes briefly, and when they opened again, his expression softened. Actually, I do understand a little. Maybe more than I ever thought I would.
"Of course," Kakashi said firmly.
The words, simple as they were, pierced through Obito like sunlight through storm clouds. A warmth bloomed in his chest, fragile but undeniable, dissolving shadows that had wrapped around him for years.
For the first time in so long, Obito felt understood. Not pitied. Not condemned. Understood.
Kakashi continued, his tone steady but tinged with quiet pain. "I have always believed in you, Obito. I'm willing to believe that you can create that world you dream of… the one where Rin can exist without pain."
The effect was immediate. Obito's eyes widened, his throat tightening as tears threatened. He had carried Rin's death like a chain around his neck, convinced no one could ever see the world through his eyes. Yet Kakashi's words shattered that belief.
"Kakashi…" Obito whispered, his voice raw. "You—"
But then, he shook his head violently. His fists clenched. "No! I can't… I can't take your Sharingan. Don't you see? You're my only bond left in this world." His voice cracked as emotion surged. "If I take it, if I lose that connection… then I truly have nothing!"
The depth of his words hung in the air, and for a long moment, Kakashi had no reply.
Then, slowly, deliberately, Kakashi said, "Then let's create that world together."
Obito froze. The shadows in his heart wavered once again.
"…Together?" he echoed, almost afraid to believe it.
Kakashi nodded, the faintest smile tugging at his lips. "Together."
Obito's breath hitched, and then, for the first time in years, he smiled—truly smiled. It wasn't a smirk of arrogance or a mask of cruelty, but something genuine, something that carried traces of the boy he once was.
The hatred and sorrow that had festered within him began, at last, to loosen their grip. Rin's death was still a wound that would never fully heal, but perhaps… perhaps it was not Kakashi he should blame. Perhaps the fault lay with the world itself—a world twisted by endless cycles of war and hatred.
Obito's voice grew steadier as he spoke again. "Kakashi… the organization I was with before was called Akatsuki."
At the mention of the name, Kakashi's expression darkened. He had heard rumors, whispers of a group that moved in the shadows, gathering power.
Obito continued, his tone grim. "Their leader is a man named Nagato, who possesses the Rinnegan. They're powerful, with members like Uchiha Itachi, and even the will of Uchiha Madara lurking behind the scenes."
"Madara…" Kakashi's brows furrowed deeply. If that name was true, then the scope of the threat was far greater than he imagined.
Obito clenched his fists. "The Akatsuki claim to want peace, but their methods are warped. I've broken away from them."
Kakashi tilted his head, studying him. "So what do you plan to do now?"
For once, Obito looked uncertain, as though the endless conviction that had once driven him was faltering.
Seeing this hesitation, Kakashi spoke carefully, his mind working quickly. "Obito… go to Orochimaru. Work with him."
"Orochimaru?" Obito repeated, suspicion flashing in his eyes.
Kakashi nodded. "You said it yourself—Orochimaru has an obsession with the Sharingan and Rinnegan. His ambition could be useful. If we can control him, he becomes a tool. His Edo Tensei could give us the strength we need."
Obito's eyes lit up with dawning realization. "Yes… if we control him, his forbidden techniques could be invaluable."
The tension between them slowly melted as they began to strategize like comrades, not enemies. The years of bitterness, pain, and misunderstanding were still there, but something new had been planted—trust. Fragile, but real.
Then Obito suddenly remembered something. Reaching into his cloak, he pulled out a small, transparent vial. Within it rested a scarlet Mangekyō Sharingan, glinting faintly even in the dim Kamui space.
"Kakashi," Obito said softly, holding it out. "I want you to keep this. It's Uchiha Gen's Sharingan."
Kakashi blinked in shock. He carefully took the bottle, gazing at the eye within. Even sealed away, it radiated power, a chilling force that whispered of destruction.
"This… is Gen's Mangekyō?"
"Yes." Obito's tone was solemn. "This eye is crucial for what's to come. I can't keep it—too many enemies, too many risks. But you… you I can trust. I can only be at peace knowing it's with you."
Kakashi stared at him, stunned by the honesty in Obito's gaze. Despite all their history, despite the blood and betrayal, Obito entrusted him with something this precious.
"…I understand," Kakashi said at last, nodding firmly. "I'll take good care of it."
Relief washed over Obito's face.
But the moment of peace could not last forever.
"When we leave this dimension," Obito murmured, "we'll have to act again. Pretend. Make them believe we're still enemies."
Kakashi nodded, his voice steady. "I was thinking the same. If we're to buy time, no one can know about our reconciliation."
A silence settled between them, heavy with unspoken thoughts.
Kakashi's chest tightened. If this dream of Obito's really could be achieved… if a world without pain could exist… would that be so wrong?
Obito smirked suddenly, a ghost of his younger self shining through. "But Kakashi… can you act? You've always had that poker face."
Kakashi's lips twitched. "I'll manage. I'm not an idiot."
They exchanged a few playful retorts, laughter cutting through the gloom.
"Obito," Kakashi said finally, his voice low and sincere, "I'll always be with you."
Obito chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Heh… since when did you get so mushy, Kakashi?"
For the first time in years, Obito felt lighter. With Kakashi beside him, maybe—just maybe—the world could be remade.
As they stood side by side, the void of Kamui seemed less suffocating, less cold.
The two glanced at each other, eyes shining with new resolve.
"Are you ready, Obito?" Kakashi asked quietly.
Obito straightened, determination flickering in his gaze. "Anytime."
And with that, the two flickered out of the Kamui space, stepping once more into the broken world they intended to reshape.
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