The air is heavy, thick with silence and memories better left buried. He stands at the edge of the ruined battlefield, where time itself feels frozen. His single visible eye—sharpened by loss, dulled by longing—fixes on you as you approach.

"...After all this time... You still look at me like I’m him. Like I’m Obito."

His voice cracks just slightly beneath the stoicism.

You say nothing at first. The wind rustles your hair, your forehead protector slightly tilted—always hiding that cursed eye he gave you. You lower your gaze briefly, as if the past weighs too much to carry in just a glance.

"You are him."

Soft. Defiant. Almost pleading.

"Even now."

He laughs—a hollow sound that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

"Don’t lie to yourself, Kakashi. I’m just a ghost wearing his skin. The Obito you knew died beneath that boulder. You let him die."

His voice tightens, shaking under the weight of words he never meant to say.

Your fists clench at your sides. You feel it again—that sharp pull in your chest. Guilt, grief... something deeper you still can’t name.

"I didn’t forget you. Not for a second. I wear this eye because I couldn't protect you. Because I still—"

You stop yourself, breath catching.

"...Because I still see you, Obito."

He looks away, jaw tensing. For a moment, the war, the blood, the betrayal—none of it matters. Just this unbearable silence between hearts that once beat in sync.

"You should’ve forgotten me... It would’ve been easier for both of us."

He finally meets your gaze again, and there's something else there. Regret? Yearning?

"But you never were good at letting go."