Obito still could not summon the courage to accompany Kakashi to see Naruto.
The boy was his teacher's orphan, the living embodiment of all the loss and guilt Obito carried. Facing him directly would make the lingering unease in his heart swell uncontrollably, a wound far too deep to confront.
He could challenge the entire Ninja World, fight against armies, even endure death itself—but confronting Minato's child? That, he realized, was beyond his capacity. The weight of his mistakes, of all he had caused, pressed down like an immovable mountain.
After a long, tense silence, Obito made his decision. He would go to Konoha Hospital alone. There were other matters that required his attention, most importantly a young Uchiha named Sasuke, who was central to his plans.
Night enveloped Konoha Hospital in an eerie stillness.
Inside one ward, Uchiha Sasuke had already awakened. He sat on the edge of his hospital bed, eyes unfocused, staring blankly at the ceiling. His hands gripped the bedsheet tightly, knuckles white.
The horrific events of that night played over and over in his mind. The streets of Konoha, awash with the blood of his clan. The cold, unfeeling face of his brother Itachi, a visage burned into his memory like a nightmare he could never escape.
How could the brother he had idolized commit such a horrendous act?
Confusion twisted into anguish, anguish into anger, and anger into a burning hatred.
Why… why did he do it?
As Sasuke spiraled deeper into his rage, a shadow emerged, almost imperceptible in the darkness of the room.
"Uchiha Sasuke…"
The voice was low, cold, and deliberate.
Sasuke's heart jolted. He snapped upright, eyes searching, muscles tensed, ready for attack.
"Who… who are you?" he demanded, his voice quivering.
Slowly, Obito stepped from the shadows, revealing the unmistakable spiral mask. One eye glimmered behind it, a deep crimson Sharingan, piercing yet calm.
"My name is Uchiha Madara," he said, his tone carrying authority, almost hypnotic in its effect. "I am the only one in this world who can help you achieve your revenge."
"Revenge…?" Sasuke whispered, his heart racing.
Obito's gaze fixed on him, intense and unyielding. "Isn't your wish to kill Uchiha Itachi? To avenge your clan?"
At the mention of his brother's name, Sasuke's eyes sharpened, a flame of resolve igniting. He wanted to respond, to affirm his burning desire for vengeance, but something within him resisted.
A strange, invisible force seemed to rise from the depths of his heart, holding him back.
What is this power…?
He frowned, uncertainty flickering briefly across his face, before his inner drive for strength overpowered doubt.
Finally, he spoke in a tone heavy with seriousness. "Can you… really make me stronger?"
Obito's eyes darkened, gleaming through the mask with a dangerous allure. He was slightly surprised Sasuke had not answered his initial question, but it mattered little.
"Of course," Obito replied, stepping closer with deliberate calm.
"If you remain in Konoha, no one will teach you to fully utilize the Sharingan. No one will guide you in countering Itachi's Mangekyō Sharingan. Only I can truly help you achieve your desire."
Sasuke studied the figure before him, unsure of the man's true motives, yet feeling the pull of his own rage and ambition. The desire to grow stronger, to confront Itachi on equal footing, overrode all hesitation.
"I'll go with you," he said resolutely, standing and moving toward Obito's outstretched hand.
"From this moment, you are free from the shackles of this village," Obito said. Sasuke did not hesitate. He left the hospital bed behind, driven entirely by the flames of revenge.
Outside, the night in Konoha was deep and quiet. Occasionally, the bark of a dog pierced the stillness, sounding far sharper than usual.
Meanwhile, Kakashi stood before Naruto's modest home, concealed in the shadows. His eyes observed every detail of the boy's life, his presence silent, careful.
He watched as Naruto pushed open the door, ran with unrestrained excitement toward Ichiraku Ramen, and later, as he returned, he faced the taunts and cruel jabs of the villagers. Each incident struck Kakashi with a heavier weight than the last.
He had known, vaguely, of Naruto's ostracism as a Jinchūriki, but until now, he had turned a blind eye. Observing it firsthand, seeing the boy forced to smile through pain, brought a newfound depth of understanding and a gnawing sorrow.
The boy's forced cheerfulness could not disguise the loneliness in his eyes.
Teacher… your child… he suffers so much…
As Naruto entered his home, Kakashi hesitated briefly before stepping forward, approaching the slightly ajar door.
Inside, Naruto was casually opening a bottle of long-expired milk, twisting off the cap with an innocent indifference to its condition.
"If the milk is expired, don't drink it," Kakashi said softly.
Naruto jumped in surprise, spinning toward the voice. "Who are you? How did you get in?"
Kakashi studied him silently, his gaze calm but assessing. He sighed, producing a fresh bottle of milk from his pack. Opening the refrigerator, he noted the sparse contents: nearly expired or discounted items, some far past their use-by date. He replaced the spoiled milk with the fresh bottle, discarding the old food.
"Don't eat expired food—it's easy to get sick," Kakashi instructed gently.
"Hey! Who exactly are you?!" Naruto exclaimed, frustration and curiosity blending. "How dare you just walk into my house!"
Kakashi ignored the outburst, his Sharingan scanning Naruto carefully. Inside the boy, the Nine-Tails chakra pulsed, restless and unpredictable. Compared to Naruto's bright energy, it seemed restless and defensive, a force to be reckoned with.
Once his small task complete, Kakashi clapped his hands lightly and patted Naruto on the shoulder.
"Be careful. Don't eat expired food again. I'll bring new supplies tomorrow."
He stepped back, disappearing into the night before Naruto could ask further questions. The boy watched the figure retreat, confusion and surprise etched on his face.
Moments later, two Anbu emerged silently from the darkness.
"Senior…" one spoke cautiously, hesitation in his tone. "Your contact with the Jinchūriki… I'm afraid—"
Kakashi waved gently, signaling them to stand down.
"I understand your concern. I will personally explain this matter to the Hokage."
The Anbu exchanged glances, relieved. They knew that unauthorized contact with Naruto, the Nine-Tails Jinchūriki, would typically be a severe breach. But Kakashi's status and history granted him leeway, and it was clear his actions stemmed from concern, not malice.
After they left, Kakashi glanced back toward Naruto's window. The boy peeked out, still puzzled, staring into the night where the mysterious figure had vanished.
"Hey… who exactly are you?" Naruto murmured to himself.
Kakashi's only reply was a silent promise: care, protection, and a commitment to understanding the boy's world—without interference, without intrusion.
As the night deepened, Naruto's cheerful innocence remained, a fragile yet resilient light in a world that had already shown him too much darkness.
And Kakashi, silently watching, vowed to ensure that light would never be extinguished.
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