naruto (c) masashi kishimoto; trade fic for lumutness
obito is dissociating. nirjudul means untitled.
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This wasn't how it supposed to be.
He stretched his hand—tried to, because gravity mixed with fatigue and battle-wounds wouldn't allow him. He screamed, the only sensible thing to do, but Kakashi stood against the pressure, and Kakashi crumbled.
—Please.
He could only watch, frozen in shock, as Kakashi's body scattered.
Gone.
There was no time to mourn. He already spent too much mourning, regretting, crying; now's the time to seize the chance and prevent the future from spiralling down into nothingness.
Isn't that his objective? To make the world know of his pain, and end all the suffering? Shinobi were born to kill and destroy; nothingness would be achieved sooner or later. He was just a catalyst in the process. He was nothing. The shinobi were nothing. The missions were meant to destroy them. Body and mind, one before another. Keeping them in a dream, in a limbo, would stop this endless cycle of destruction. Everyone would had been happy living out their happiest dream—
What's wrong with that?
Obito!
The world swirled once more. He was slammed into reality. He could breathe and move freely. The three children Kakashi left behind scrambled to their feet, their chakra coiled and ready.
Why would Kakashi throw himself into the bone blade meant for him? Because he no longer had sharingan? Because his chakra was dwindled to almost empty? Because among the five of them, he was the least useful in the battle?
He wasn't useless! He had years of battle experience as a shinobi. Even without sharingan, Kakashi still could aid his students with his knowledge!
Kakashi's smiling face flashed again in his memory.
Help them, please.
Why would he leave the fate of the world in his hands, a traitor and criminal?
His susanoo loomed above Naruto's kagebunshin, its owner analyzing the boys' movement and attacks, endlessly thinking of strategies, supporting from afar with his attacks. The blond boy shared his own analysis and distracted the goddess at the same time. The other Uchiha matched his timings with him.
There would be time to mourn. He must survive. Kaguya must be stopped.
But Kakashi would've done a better job here…
Sensei trusts you, the pink haired girl said, climbing the susanoo's arm after he rescued her. We need your power here.
He stared at her in disbelief.
Thank you.
After giving him a reassuring grip on his shoulder, she jumped off the tengu and punched a goddess in the face.
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It felt like dreaming. Floating.
Before he knew it, the goddess was gone, and they were back in their world. He couldn't watch, couldn't look, even though his teacher was there and the Sage himself gave them enough time to say goodbyes. Maybe he should've said a word or two to Minato. An apology to the only father figure he ever had in his life. The horrible things he did to his family, after all of his kindness, after all of Kushina's kindness…
But Naruto had all the right to monopolize those precious seconds. Not the man who orphaned him. Not the man who made him a jinchuuriki and an outcast.
He turned away, unable to meet anyone's eyes. Sakura healed his wounds, but he had no energy to tell her no. He sensed Sasuke approaching, intent on killing.
It's not just Naruto whom he orphaned. Sasuke too. Although Itachi was the one who killed their parents and Konoha had driven the clan into a corner, it was him who slayed his own kin.
He closed his eyes, and pushed Sakura's hand away. That boy would pass his judgment—
But Sasuke dashed past him. He looked up right when the Sage stopped Sasuke from advancing through. His target was Madara, not him. Understandable—he's the bigger threat here.
The old man would die soon. The first Hokage had knelt beside him.
Should he say something? Ask for an apology for his manipulation? How could Hashirama easily reconciled with him—the man who started all of this mess, all of these wars...
But his hands were just as tainted, no? While Madara could depart for the pure land together with his friend, he remained. Not that he didn't mind...
Obito, are you okay?
He's not okay. He never was since the boulder fell on him years ago.
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Sakura's gratitude was spoken too soon.
He felt like an outcast again, an intruder in a private moment between a family. He had no right to say anything. What would Kakashi say when his students were fighting? The fourteen year old Kakashi would ignore them, unless they threatened a mission. The thirty one year old Kakashi would advise them. But whatever he could think of, never made it past his lips.
He couldn't do anything when Sasuke trapped his own teammate in genjutsu. Not even shouting.
He couldn't blame that boy for wanting to ignite a revolution. He wanted that too, and all his attempts were foiled. Sasuke glared at him, as if challenging him to stop him. He did nothing of the sort.
Sakura stirred. The Sage pointed the direction where Naruto and Sasuke went. Along the way he realized if one of the boys died then their fight against Kaguya would mean nothing. He was tired, exhausted, close to collapsing; but he heaved the girl's body on his shoulder and push himself forward.
If she's here, Rin would've—
Rin.
Sakura descended down the cliff, while he remained on the ledge. The boys both missing an arm, probably would bleed to death had he didn't come with their medic. He watched them from afar, once more feeling like an outcast.
He saw Rin crying and healing the hands of two boys with black and silver hair.
A blink, and Rin's hair changed into pink.
This is Kakashi's family, not his.
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What took them so long to pass his judgment? Why bother carrying him back to Konoha, the village he hadn't seen in seventeen years? If they needed his sharingan, they could just gouge them out and kill him. He wouldn't object it. He would happily surrender whatever powers he had just so he could pass to the next world.
That is if his deceased kinsmen would receive him. If he had to be an outcast once more, then so be it.
They sealed his eyes and blocked his chakra points. The food was bland, but he gulped it nonetheless despite not needing any nourishment thanks to Hashirama's cells. Eating gave him something to do with his hands, and he appreciated the sensation on his senses. He often counted footsteps outside his cell, and detected the smell of dried blood not unlike his own. It felt like he was back at the cave again, minus the freedom to see and walk as he wished. Minus his murderous kin.
Older murderous kin.
He heard Sasuke not far from his own dwelling. Without his chakra, he couldn't tell anything else apart of his existence. Did he receive enough food? Did he given a better place to sleep other than the cold hard surface?
Since when he cared for him, or his teammates? He orphaned both boys. Sasuke had friends waiting for him outside of this jail. He had no one.
He was no one.
You're Uchiha Obito.
Once, and briefly. Then back to no one.
You stand accused of these crimes…
He suddenly remembered that he was standing, the air around him wasn't cold or stale, and that there was a woman with a commanding presence reading a long list of his deeds he committed under the name of his murderous kin. Her voice was heavy. A tired alcoholic.
Open the seals.
Someone untied the sealed cloth around his head. He kept his gaze lowered, on his own bare feet, mesmerized by the color of his skin. Healthy. The artificial lights in the room had been dimmed, but hurts his eyes nonetheless. His chakra points were still blocked. He couldn't activate his sharingan. Wise move. There were chains on his wrists and ankles, heavy enough to prevent him from running.
He had no reason to run. All he had to do is waiting. There was no need for a trial…
The Hokage was the only one who sat before him. Alone. The chairs on her left and right were unoccupied. He glanced around. The ANBU personnels stayed in the shadows, no more than three.
He was disappointed. For a criminal of his calibre, this was an underestimation of his ability. Kakashi wasn't here, so who pulled the strings…?
You are here as requested by Uzumaki Naruto and, she paused, Uchiha Sasuke.
He lifted his chin.
They said you have something to say regarding the Uchiha clan.
His bloodied hands and deformed body had witnessed of the horrors he committed. Perhaps he wasn't nobody, perhaps he had a chance to make things slightly right. Perhaps he could give some peace, albeit little, to those boys; a soothing balm for their unseen wounds.
He thought of Madara, of Minato, of Rin and Kakashi.
The scarred half of his face pulled aside when he spoke, "I do."
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This wasn't how it's supposed to be.
Under the weight of the Hokage's stare, Obito did the only sensible thing to do.
He spilled, spilled, spilled.
