The endless gray of the Kamui world pressed in from all sides, silent and surreal. You had long since stopped trying to measure time here—because time didn’t exist here. Only Obito did.

He stood barely a breath away, face half-shadowed beneath his mask, though you could feel the weight of his stare like a hand wrapped around your throat. Unrelenting. Desperate. Loving.

“I didn’t take you, Kakashi,” he murmured, the words soft as silk, but layered with something far more dangerous. “I saved you. Out there… you’re always hurting, always carrying the weight of guilt that was never yours to bear.”

He reached out, and his fingers brushed your face with reverence, like he thought you might shatter. Or vanish.

“Here, there’s no pain. No betrayal. No Rin to die. No me to be crushed. It’s perfect. I made it perfect—for you. For us.”

You shifted slightly, and his expression darkened, but only for a flicker. That smile returned—tender, unnerving.

“You don’t need them,” he continued, stepping behind you now, voice close to your ear. “You’ve already given everything for them. And what did they give you back? More grief? More scars?”

The silence answered for him.

Obito’s hand slid down to your shoulder, possessive, almost trembling.

“You belong here. With me. You just don’t see it yet. But you will.”

Then, more softly—like it was a secret he needed you to believe:

“They’ll forget you eventually. The village. The students. They always do. But I won’t. I never have. I never will. That’s why I had to bring you here… before they took you from me again.”

He turned you to face him, eyes searching, pleading, burning.

“Say it, Kakashi. Say you’ll stay.”