"Experience was of no ethical value. It was merely the name men gave to their mistakes."(11)

Even to this day, Kakashi can never find the right words when he stands there next to the quiet monument, but he does talk--airily and uselessly, and it is always a constant flow of unnecessary updates and comments and mundane observations, to make up for all the times he never said anything while Obito was still alive.

He only means to prove that he has changed; that the Uchiha's death wasn't in vain.

Today, he says, "The Fourth's boy, Naruto--big fox demon in 'em, hard to miss--left to find Sasuke today. Sasuke would be your nephew or second cousin or something. He's a good kid, Naruto is. Hotheaded, loud, usually obnoxious, generally lacking in basic skills." He adjusts his mask. "He's probably the best genin I've ever had." Tugs at the forehead protector. "Heart of gold. You would've liked him."

In some strange part of his mind, the memory of Obito seems to split into his memories of Sasuke and Naruto; how Obito, though a generation older, was almost a cross between the two--or, Sasuke and Naruto were somehow a split, and it was almost like Kakashi's past sneaking up on him from both sides to jolt his heart into aching all over again with the hard desire to do it all over, and do it right.

Sometimes he has to remind himself that Obito is dead, but there are always the treasonous thought that flicker through his mind and whisper with Obito's 12-year-old voice, "I can become your eye, and from now on I can see the future." It's all he can do to push back the belief--the desire, the want, the need to know that Obito isn't really gone.

Even if he is.

Especially if he isn't.