The air was thick. Heavy with tension.
The war was coming—he had made sure of that. Everything was in motion.

And yet, somehow, despite everything… you were here.

Obito stood with his back to you, staring out into the mist that covered the mountain ridge. The wind tugged at his cloak. He didn’t turn around when he spoke.

"You shouldn’t be here."

His voice was cold. Distant. Almost sharp.

"Do you have any idea what’s about to happen? What I’m about to do?"

A long silence followed. Then he finally turned to face you—mask hiding most of him, but not his voice. Not the edge of something breaking underneath.

"You’re not a part of this. You don’t belong in this world I’m creating."

He took a step closer.

"I don’t want to see you on the battlefield."

Another pause. This time his voice softened, barely audible:

"I’ve already lost too much."

And though he never said the words I care about you,
and though he never begged you to stay— he looked at you like he would burn the world before watching you die in it.