You felt like you were going to die.

I know it. I've acknowledged that feeling in other people.

You wish you could move. You wish you could clasp those now gloved, pale hands together into a seal and just blow this forsaken place down to the ground. But you know you couldn't if your hands were free anyway.

You know you can't because you're slowly dying.

It isn't the blood. It's warm and radiant as it trails the curves of your face and down your bounded arms. No, that's your life slipping away. It's crimson and pearly yet tastes metallic in my mouth. It's like relief in a liquid form as I scooped some of it up from one of the deep wounds below your breast and bring it up to my mouth.

Do you still feel pain? Is it beyond you now?

No, you're human. You're still with me in this room.

Is it cold to you? You're shivering a lot.

Is it from the blood loss?

No.

It's because your chakra is slowly escaping your body. You don't realize how much it insulates you until its floating away into the bindings. I don't think you still realize it.

I told Kisame it was wise to use sharkskin for bindings. I can feel that heat wafting from your body.

You miss it don't you?

I'm sure.

Your mismatches eyes are distant. They won't focus on me. Would you want them to if you could? Probably not. My eyes are... death.

The sharkskin continues to react to that blue energy coming from your pores. Does it burn? It looks like a cold flickering flame. It's going out. You're going out.

Don't go out yet. I like this. This is amusing. I've been waiting for this a long while.

That's what I hate about this game, it always ends too soon. You don't have much more time, even though I want to keep going. That's how it always is.

You seem so tired. It's not something I would say about you; you seem more relaxed than anything normally. Calm. You're breaths are still calm.

Are you still scared? I don't think so. You're a little different than the others. You know you're going to die. It's just a fact that needs no emotion.

Maybe it was your ability to be so analytic that had drawn me to you. The Kyuubi is just a bonus. I always dreamed of doing this to you even back before when we were in the ANBU.

I always unnerved you, didn't I? I could tell you never felt comfortable around me.

Are you comfortable now in those life sucking bindings? Unlikely.

Do you know where you are? I want to tell you. It wouldn't hurt; after all, you are going to die.

But I can't. They won't let me. I don't want to quarrel with them. I just want to stand here over you. Watch your breaths grow shallow.

It's dark in here, but I have a feeling your pupils are dilated too much.

Damn that eye.

Uncle Obito was a fool. But I loved him, when I was a fool too. He used to make funny faces to me and lets me wear his goggles. He smelled of sweat and dirt and grass and homemade biscuits. He used to visit me every weekend and tell me stories about his team, about how he had to save the prodigy Hatake constantly from battles.

And you took him away from me. I'll never forget sitting by the window that rainy day he was supposed to visit, waiting for his black spiky hair to come around the corner soaking wet.

He never came. And it's all your fault.

I want to kick you. You stole his sharingan. You robbed him of his life.

Just like I'm going to rob you of yours.

That's what I wanted when I heard he had died saving you.

Did he really save you then? I wish you'd answer me, but I don't think you can hear me.

I was angry when I joined the ANBU and found you were there. My kind of anger of course.

Silent and unfeeling. Hate.

Your blood is sticky between my fingers. Makes me want to clench and relax them. Feel the dexterity digging up under my nails. Sweet life, sour death. I like your blood.

But you're not dead yet. Good, that's very good. Stay with me in your suffering.

You don't belong with the Uchiha. You know that. Your hair is silver, it doesn't contrast that soft white skin like our onyx hair does. Your sharingan won't turn off. You won't rest because that is the price of your ignorance.

I want to kill you.

What's this? So there is life in your eyes. No, your eye. One of them isn't yours. But they look up at me. In a way. They're still so distant. But they fix on me, or near me, something in my general direction. I'd like to think it's me, but I can't tell everything about you.

What are you thinking?

Can you recognize me here?

You seem pathetic lying there. If you are in fact in the right state of mind, you'd probably be seething. You have pride. Or had.

But how much pride can you hold dying there at the feet of a former comrade?

You seem tired. Older maybe. I'm surprised you're still here with me. Most others would have died by now.

Yeah, you're special. You took my Obito.

The Yondaime. He said Obito would have wanted you to live.

Yeah, he's right, you're a survivor aren't you? But you'll die here below my feet.

Or will you? Somehow, if it's possible. You're bound with sharkskin by your wrists and ankles, bleeding down your sides, shivering...

Yeah, you're different. You'll live. I don't know how, you just…will. I want to brush that silver hair out of his eye. What did he see in you?

I hate you.