Chapter Four: Dreams, Reality

Peace looks strange in Konoha.

Civilians smile broadly on the streets holding their children's hands. The ninja stride along with light feet and straighter backs, like a heavy weight has been taken off their shoulders. They all look happy. They all act happy.

Obito thinks it all looks like a dream. It doesn't feel real.

Maybe it's because he grew up in war. Or maybe it's because he spent two years in the closest place to hell on earth, and he doesn't remember what it was like, living and feeling like real people.

Maybe it's because he just found out that the stupidest thing one can ever do is to trust everything that shows on the surface wholeheartedly.

… Well, whatever the reason, Obito doesn't care.

The bizarre surreality of it all makes it easier for him to pretend it's actually a dream and not reality, and that makes it easier for him to keep himself in check, because there's no reason to get angry about what's not real.

There's no reason for him to wonder why they all had to die, Rin and Kai and all those other nameless squad members, why them and not him, why the deaths of those who were killed in action are so easily forgotten, with only a slab of stone carved full of names to soothe their restless souls, and why even that is located somewhere so secluded, so easily overlooked.

(Why?)

(How can you all look so happy when all those who have died never even got the chance to enjoy the luxury bought with their blood?)

It also helps that these cruel, selfish thoughts make him ashamed of what he feels, and he pushes them away as much as he can.

But he can't really help it – something boils inside him, or maybe it is him, this twisted, raw, broken something that seethes like an open flame. Maybe, if he stopped fighting it, maybe he could burn, burn to his heart's content until he eventually burns himself out. He almost has half a mind to actually do it; but that's just stupid, because that would be what people like the Uchiha Elders would be waiting for, the tiniest excuse to strip him of what power he has gained and to throw him down into the gutter he crawled out of.

And because Uchiha Obito has always, always been on the losing end of this fight, even when he didn't even realize there was a fight, always so powerless and small compared to the people who built the world and decided what was right, he can't afford that to happen.

He has to get stronger, and even though he might not belong, people won't pay much attention as long as he keeps himself in check and produces adequate results. Everyone is surprisingly indifferent to what happens to other people as long as it doesn't affect them. So when he is in the village, he tamps down his rage and numbs his mind and his thoughts, seeing without seeing, hearing without hearing, drifting through the shadows.

After all, that had been what he had been best at before he met Rin – hiding in the sidelines with his head bowed, letting his cousins shine.

x

They say there is a limit to which an individual can endure pain, and that something beyond that limit can damage a person beyond repair. This makes sense, because there must be a reason T&I has an entire branch dedicated to inflicting deliberate pain onto people to make them spit out whatever precious information kept in their heads, or to break them completely to be able to sift through their memories like a goddamned photo album.

Sometimes Obito wonders if he broke something that night he cried in front of the Memorial Stone, something that might have been an essential part of who he once was. This idea gnaws at the back of his thoughts restlessly, an indefinable nagging at the back of his mind that intensifies with every mission he goes on, until he finally realizes the source of his uneasiness.

It's in the middle of a mission, and the fight is nearly over. Obito watches a man slide off his kunai, blood bubbling out of his mouth and nose, hands still flailing with the attempt to finish his seals. Obito looks down into the man's deadening eyes, watches the light go out of them, feels rather than sees the man gasp out his last breath.

And he realizes he doesn't feel anything at all.

Obito blinks slowly, wiping warm blood off his face, and tries in vain to summon some of the guilt he knows he felt once, that sharp punch-stab to his heart that always felt like penance, no matter how meaningless it was.

He fails. For some reason, this makes him slightly… sad.

He isn't very sure. The wisp of sorrow vanishes as quickly as it came, and amidst the adrenaline still thundering in his veins and the leftover aggression from the fight, he wonders if he had just imagined it.

He looks around, and sees two of his teammates dispatch the last of the enemies with quick, practiced movements. They move together gracefully, covering each other's blind spots seamlessly. It's like they're sharing minds and thoughts, their cooperation so natural that it has become near instinctive.

Obito watches blankly as the kunoichi on the receiving end of those attacks stumbles, then falls, blood pouring from the hole in her side. She doesn't even get to close her eyes as she collapses, intestines sliding out like blue-white snakes.

It suddenly reminds him of another girl, eyes still open and glassy in death. Obito's eyes reflexively flicker to Rin, and he is slightly relieved to see her still smiling, serene and untouched by the horrors of the mortal world. Or maybe she just doesn't see. It's not like she has any eyes. Maybe that's better. Maybe selective blindness is what everyone needs to stay sane.

Obito doesn't think he's very sane. The Sharingan sees too much, and doesn't let him forget.

With the tense, strained atmosphere of the fight draining away, Obito feels the tiredness creeping back to him like a faithful companion. He suddenly wants nothing more than to flop down on the ground (even if it's puddled with blood) and fall asleep. Since he's feeling this tired, he might even get to sleep a little deeply this time. And if he's lucky, he won't even get any dreams.

Lost in the contemplation of whether fatigue is a good excuse to drop out of the after-mission cleanup, Obito doesn't see how close the medic has gotten to him. It's when he taps Obito on the shoulder warily that Obito flinches and looks up. He almost, almost stabs him in the gut out of pure instinct, but thankfully Obito aborts the attack just in time. The medic obviously doesn't see it that way, though, because the acute discomfort Obito can feel radiating off the man only gets stronger. Even the methodical, clinical procedure of checking his wounds, disinfecting and closing them with healing chakra feels strained and disjointed, like the medic is trying very hard not to let his hands tremble.

Obito wonders if this is the last mission he will go on with this team. After all, this is the… sixth or seventh team he's been foisted off on, and none of the teams kept him more than three missions. He feels like a fourth wheel, too, because this team is so obviously well-balanced, with the perfectly synchronized fighting pair and a steady, calm medic. His own style of fighting is crude and destructive to himself as much as others; so far, it has become more a hindrance than a help.

It's not that his style isn't effective – the fact that he survived until now, at least, proves that – but he had to learn on the front lines how to fight with only raw survival instinct to lean on, and therefore he isn't very good at considering others who might get caught up in his actions. But even in his mind, that sounds like an excuse, and a weak one. So Obito just decides to think that he just isn't good enough. The difference is made clear by the corpses splayed on the field right now, anyway. The shinobi dispatched by the other pair have been cut down with surgically precise wounds, while Obito's kills have been half-roasted and hacked at awkwardly till they couldn't stay up, since he tended to attack wherever he could reach, whenever he saw an opportunity.

Obito wonders when Mission Assignment will finally get into their heads that the teams don't want him and start sending him on solo missions. He'd used to wonder, maybe up until the time he got rejected by the third or fourth team, where his original team was… but now he guesses that they probably didn't want to see him anymore, either.

And if even they couldn't stand him, who would? When the medic finishes working his magic on Obito's bigger wounds, Obito nods him a thanks. The man nods in return, even though he seems (understandably) uncomfortable of the idea of turning his back on Obito to walk away. Obito pretends he doesn't notice the man's discomfort and moves away first, reaching for a sealing scroll with his newly-mended arm to put away the bodies.

x

The Uchiha, as always, are a bunch of complete assholes. However, Obito doesn't wear his heart on his sleeve anymore, and he just focuses on ignoring his blood relatives' existence. In return, he is ignored right back, except for the occasional disgusted scowls and glares. But they don't actually say anything, and Obito pretends he doesn't see a thing. This way, they have something resembling a working relationship.

That night, after he got back from the Memorial Stone, he acted like nothing happened. He didn't ask about the Mangekyo, he didn't ask about his parents, he stayed quiet and out of attention. He was half sure that if he brought any of those topics out for discussion, they might decide that keeping him alive wasn't really worth the trouble and 'take care of' him quickly and discreetly. He didn't want to take that risk.

It wasn't very hard, and no one looked too close at an orphan with no real social connections, no political influence. Nothing had changed, except that now Obito lived in the Main Compound and had to put more effort into maneuvering the corridors to avoid the Clan Elders and the more unpleasant of his cousins.

All in all, the complete, unwavering indifference is very convenient.

It's also strangely painful. Not that it matters, of course. Obito is now very good at blocking out unwanted emotions.

x

The sun is warm, and the golden light pools in the streets, along the corners, lighting every corner of the village like there is no evil in the world. Rin looks around smiling; she claps in delight along with the children's excited shrieks, the lively shouts from the marketplace. With her back turned, she almost looks alive and whole and healthy, one among the many joyful people still celebrating the end of the war.

Obito knows she should be the one here. Rin was always like the sun; she would have been able to smile and laugh and be happy, wholeheartedly glad to see everyone else happy. She would never have entertained any selfish, cruel thoughts like Obito. She belongs here in this picture of pure, unadulterated peace, and if Obito had been just a little faster, she could have been here, with Kakashi, with Minato sensei. And Obito – Obito would have been able to die under those cold, still rocks, forever blissfully ignorant of the merciless cruelty of the truth; a hero's death for the child that should not have been born.

In the village he pretends that the dream is real, as he stands in the shadows and watches the surreal perfection of the illusions produced by his unstable mind.

Deep down, though, he knows this is not real, and it hurts in a way that he can't really put into words. But reality can bother him later, when he's on missions or pretending he doesn't exist in the Uchiha Compound.

Right now, numbed by the warm contentment of sunlight-laughter-Rin, Obito thinks, this is enough.


A/N:

Finally, another chapter. I think everyone must have forgotten what this story was all about, let alone this story even existed.
(For those of you who haven't, though, thank you from the bottom of my heart. I love you all.)

So, just to refreshen your memory, a quick summary of the last three chapters:
1 - Rin's death
2 - frontlines + war
3 - Elder Matou and Fugaku's conversation - realization + mental breakdown
(Um, and just in case, the background of Obito's birth in this story is completely original; I don't think canon gave us any clues about Obito's parents)

And to tell the truth, I kind of really hate this chapter. Really. It's one of the reasons this updated so, so late. I've been in the phase of 'OMG my writing is horrible what do I do' but I decided that if I kept on like this, I won't update till December.
So I really hope you could comment whether this chapter is atrocious, or still salvageable. Of course, I'm not going to go through the hell of rewriting it either way, but it would be a great reassurance for me to know your opinions. :3