Satoru was born special, with the sky in his eyes and the boundless infinity in his veins. He was born and the world stopped, curses faltered, curse users halted, and sorcerers rejoiced.
His mother wept; his father laughed. Both out of joy.
He was born and all sorcerers were clambering for a chance to bless and be blessed by him, a babe that can barely open his eyes.
Even the other two major clans had to give some face, as bitter as they were about their marked decline in power from his birth.
For he was a blessed child, a child that shall know no pain nor struggles in his life. Blessed by the heavens with eyes that are the skies themselves. With boundless curse energy beneath his soft, infant skin. And strength that can one day rival myths and legends.
Satoru was raised accordingly. He was raised to be special for there is no doubt about that. He smashes each expectation, reaches each goal, and tears through each finish line with relish. He shines as the sole star of his generation. A bright, gaseous star that eclipses all others. He was always the center of the world. The one that everyone was beholden to. From young to old, even they have to give him some modicum of respect even if they wished to peel the skin off his bones.
Throughout heaven and earth, Gojo Satoru, alone, is the honored one.
The world is kind to Satoru. No strife, no conflict, nothing at all that could challenge a god.
(Not until Geto Suguru, at least.
But Satoru supposes it can only be blamed on himself. For being too soft, for being too human- for caring for another human that will just leave and die early just as they always do.
There is no strife, no conflict, no sadness to be had if he had steeled his heart and distanced his feelings like a god would.)
Uchiha Obito, too, is born special.
Though it is in the wrong way. If Satoru was born blessed by the heavens then Uchiha Obito could almost be said to be born scorned by the heavens.
Scorn is the only explanation for it.
Satoru was raised as special, heralded as the strongest, as a god above mortals. He was taught that anything he put his mind to, can be done. He was taught that there is no limit for a being like him. That there is truly nothing- nothing at all- that cannot be done if he truly wishes it so.
He was raised to be the strongest, to be the one that everyone looked to in their hour of need.
A benevolent god in mortal coil.
Uchiha Obito was also born special.
While Satoru cannot claim to know the inner workings of the hands that raised Uchiha Obito, he thinks he can tell that they were not kind.
What kindness is it to have it be so ingrained in a child that, even after centuries and centuries and centuries- even after growing to be an adult- that even then, whatever that child became, he still believed that he was more akin to a curse than man?
Perhaps they didn't explicitly say that Uchiha Obito was a monster.
But obviously somewhere along the line Uchiha Obito's perception of himself- the man he was when he was alive- had already shifted. Perhaps it was when he was young and trained to specialize in exorcising other vessels, or perhaps the realization had sunk in only after his hands were slick in the blood of his once ally.
Satoru remembers, once, wherein Uchiha Obito had asked lightly whether Satoru was here to kill it.
It's odd wording. You don't kill a curse, you exorcise it.
Uchiha Obito was taught to exorcise.
Uchiha Obito had considered it killing instead.
Considering such affairs as a regular exorcism is distancing oneself from it all. To bite the blade and know that what you are facing is no longer alive, is no longer your friend but a monster occupying their body, to know that you are doing this for the greater good.
To consider it an act of killing means that you still consider them alive.
Uchiha Obito was born special.
Is it fortune or woes?
Did his mother weep while his father laughed?
Did they do it out of joy or grief?
Satoru thinks he cannot fathom that moment. Holding your child in your arms and knowing that he is marked for greatness, but the terrible kind that will bring honor to your clan but bring only grief and strife to your child.
In the end, Satoru cannot imagine the thoughts of a long dead pair of parents as they gazed upon their crying child. Whether they laughed or cried. Whether they were joyful or mournful.
If he could choose, then he would wish them mournful. For at least then, it could be said that Uchiha Obito's parents cared. That they loved the swaddled child in their arms more than they did their clan.
He's not sure if he wants to ask. It feels wrong to do. To dig up memories of a pair of parents that loved or were apathetic.
But his eyes are searching and before long Uchiha Obito notices.
"What, more questions?" Uchiha Obito says dryly, although there is a gentle note to its voice as though it was still distracted by thoughts of people long dead and gone.
There are many. From vessels to curses to monsters. There are many but Satoru finds himself asking:
"Your parents-"Did they care? Were they kind? Did they try to at least shield you from the world? "They must've been powerful."
It's a distant sort of statement, almost nonsensical but Satoru realizes during it that the other options were too personal. Something traded between well acquainted comrades rather than a sorcerer and a curse.
Something flickers in Uchiha Obito's gaze, as though shifting through memories and moments. Satoru almost thought, for a moment, that Uchiha Obito would not answer.
"They were average," Uchiha Obito replies, as though on instinct. Then there is a moment, then two. "Or so I was told."
There's a thousand and one words inlaid there. Something like grief and lament and a thousand lives left unlead.
Uchiha Obito never knew its parents, even back when it was alive. Whether they died or had to give him up is a question that is left vague, perhaps on purpose. But the implication is there. The grief veiled thin and Uchiha Obito's eyes are lost, perhaps images of a man and a woman lurks beneath those eyes.
Does Uchiha Obito even know whether his parents loved him or loved his clan?
Satoru wonders if the idea is something that Uchiha Obito had agonized over. Never knowing the answer and grieving not having the warmth of a parent's love in his life or being glad that he didn't have to deal with their apathy.
"They don't matter, not anymore," Uchiha Obito says lightly. Now not even a hint of grief on its face.
Maybe it was neither of the above, Satoru thinks.
He thinks that there's a term for this.
Schrödinger.
Dead and alive.
Maybe it was like Schrödinger's cat for Uchiha Obito. Wherein they existed in two states at the same time and the orphan turned killer agonized over which he'd prefer. Maybe Uchiha Obito eventually thought that it was best that they were dead so he didn't have to deal with the grief of a pair of parents that chose the clan over himself. Maybe he thought it was best that they were dead so he didn't have to be confronted with their scorn when he became dyed in blood.
Perhaps he could've missed out on their love. But to Uchiha Obito who had lived without it for so long-
Perhaps rejection was the more potent poison.
"Enough about me," Uchiha Obito says. A clear sign that it was over with this conversation. "You're a teacher."
The change in subject is abrupt, Satoru thinks. But then again, he was the one that jumped to Uchiha Obito's parents.
"Your students- when-" There's a brief pause to be had as though Uchiha Obito was dreading the answer but yearning for it at the same time. "When are they officially sorcerers?"
Technically, they're sorcerers now, even if they are students. But Satoru doesn't think it's asking about that. It's asking about when they are fully autonomous. When they are out of his wings and can fly on their own.
"When they graduate," Satoru says. "Yuuji-kun? Around two more years."
There's something in its expression- a torrent of grief and yet joy that it can't quite hide. A relief to the curve of its eyes and a slight curve of the lips. It's a pale imitation of a smile. But nonetheless, it's a semblance of a smile.
It makes Uchiha Obito look younger, and if Satoru squints his eyes, he can almost pretend that there's a flush of life to be had on Uchiha Obito's cheeks and not just the light from the sunset.
Why? Satoru wonders. Why for this question? For this pointless, simple question?
"I see," Uchiha Obito says, like rainfall after a drought. A gentleness that Satoru can't quite fathom.
Satoru doesn't see at all.
He wants to- he wants to dig- he wants to know why. Why just this question was enough to evoke joy from the immovable Uchiha Obito.
"And for…" Uchiha Obito drawls off. "For that boy with the sword?" There's a hint of something, a trailing note that indicates that Uchiha Obito had wanted to withdraw its words. But it has been said and done so it just sits there in stilted silence.
For someone that likes to pretend it has a heart as lofty as the clouds, Uchiha Obito's heart is rather closer to the earth.
"Yuta-kun has begun some sorcerer work," Satoru says. "Though he's a special grade sorcerer so they're all wanting a piece of him, but he's still a student so the scope of jobs he can take is still limited."
Not to mention Satoru had sent Yuta abroad before they could try to pull something and force the boy into a mission he might not be ready for.
Uchiha Obito's expression has dimmed somewhat, but it still carries a trace of relief.
"He sounds talented," Uchiha Obito notes. Sounding almost lost. "That's…" There's a brief pause as though Uchiha Obito couldn't quite decide on what to say. "Good for him."
It's undeniably distant and restrained. Of a curse that thought it had no family left- that perhaps even played a hand in that- reaching for distance instead.
It's a pattern, Satoru thinks.
Perhaps for Uchiha Obito, there would be no grief if it never got to know Yuta at all. Then, there would be no rejection and no scorn.
Even if Yuta had reached for it- what would Yuta think if he knows that it helped with ending the clan?
Perhaps, for Uchiha Obito, the lack of a relationship isn't as poisonous as the rejection that comes from wanting.
For a curse that has only been like stone and marble until now. This is undeniably human and undeniably soft- almost weak in a way, cowardly.
Shrinking away from a connection that could be.
Schrödinger's cat, alive and dead at the same time. If you don't open the box, you'll never know if it's dead- so perhaps it's best to just leave it well enough alone.
But the thing about Schrödinger's cat is that it could very well be alive.
To leave the cat inside the box is to let it die.
Perhaps that was Uchiha Obito's intention.
Let these chances for something die and wither away.
Satoru should be glad that a curse is not approaching one of his students under the face of family. Curses aren't quite human, anyways and whatever that was human about them died the day they, too, died. Family is a concept that should be foreign to curses.
And yet it just irks him.
Satoru wonders if this was how Uchiha Obito led its life back when it was still alive. He can almost picture the man, taciturn and withdrawn. Alone In his uniqueness. An orphan that probably had, at one point, yearned for his parents. But as time went on, as vessels went and died and dyed Uchiha Obitio's hands scarlet-
Leave the cat for dead, think it dead and it won't harm you to discover its brutal end. Let your parents remain a bygone memory, buried away, and it won't harm you to know that perhaps they could've scorned you.
Let this connection between you and your descendant be strangled in its crib so you won't have to face the chance that he, too, will scorn you.
He wonders if this was how Uchiha Obito was taught or if this was something that he learned, all by his lonesome.
Which made it worse?
That this was in Uchiha Obito's nurture or nature?
Which was worse?
"He's very humble, too," Satoru divulges. "And he's a bit withdrawn as well, even though he really wants to make more friends."
Uchiha Obito's expression fluctuates slightly. Its form stiffen as though not sure what Satoru wants with the information or why it's being told. But it's not interrupting him yet and almost seems to listen attentively with the kind of quiet zeal that Satoru wishes half his students have for his lectures.
(This was probably how his own teacher felt.)
"He's confident when he wants to be, though," Satoru continues, almost cheerfully. Remembering the shadow of the boy back from before and the boy when he is now and he feels pride. Something like the pride of raising a prized pupil. Finding a diamond in the rough. "He's learning that from his beloved teacher, of course. And he's still a bit shaky sometimes in non stress situations. But, well, it's good that he's more confident in combat."
Oh, Yuta can pretend that he's wisened up and matured up in front of everyone else. But for most grown-ups they can see that he's still floundering about outside of combat. A bit too hesitant at times, a bit too quiet at others. It's fine and well enough, they aren't asking for him to grow up, after all. Yuta, just like every other student, deserves to live out their youth without anyone interrupting it. School days, festivals, time spent with friends, time toiling over obnoxious homework, surprise spars-
All precious. All things that you look back on one day and Satoru hopes that they'll look back with a fond smile rather than regrets.
Satoru thinks the jujutsu world has enough regrets.
"He likes to be seen as one of the grown-ups." It's endearing in a way to see that. It's something that comes with being around that age of teenage hood. Between still being considered a child and on the verge of graduating from it. Satoru was once like that as well. It makes him see his own shadow in Yuta, if only somewhat, to see Yuta grow bolder and more confident. The boy's spine forging itself into something tougher and harder.
Though, Satoru's spine has always been made of steel and clouds.
And never quite as wanting to be an adult as he was more annoyed that his age held him back from being taken seriously by the higher ups.
"And if you treat him like one, it makes him super confident." Whether it be job directives or just in regular speech, if you treat Yuta like he's grown, he's proud of that. Like it's some kind of small victory amidst a thousand others. It builds his confidence, Satoru thinks. "Isn't that cute?"
There is a moment, then two. One that stretches on for an uncomfortable second where Satoru feels that perhaps he's overestimated Uchiha Obito's sentimentality and underestimated its disinterestedness.
Then, Uchiha Obito nods. Stiffly, jerkily. But there can be no denying of Uchiha Obito's subtle glances towards Satoru, as though asking for more. Like a man left starving and has now been given scraps. Uchiha Obito can't quite hide the interest in its eyes nor the way it subtly seems to be noting down every last word.
Schrödinger's cat, Satoru thinks. Alive and dead.
Uchiha Obito might've thought it'd be fine thinking the cat dead.
But the wants of the heart are hardly easy to dismiss.
If Uchiha Obito was as detached as it liked to portray itself, then there's no point for it to be listening so closely. It could've interrupted him at any moment if it felt that the conversation was pointless.
Maybe it has a thousand and one years to waste, Satoru supposes. But it doesn't seem the type to just sit there and listen to meaningless drabbles on a boy it doesn't care about.
"He gets along with almost everyone," Satoru muses. "Well, almost everyone. But you win some and you lose some, right?" Satoru knows for certain that Maki's sister is irked by Yuta just as she is irked by everyone that's close to her sister. There's a crater of issues between Maki and her twin and Satoru isn't keen to poke his nose in it. "He's a nice kid, though. The kind that's hard to dislike." And that's true enough. Yuta, while quiet, has this earnestness to him. Something more akin to Yuuji than Megumi. A quiet kindness and wishing to help that many can see and feel just from contact with him.
He couldn't be any more different from Uchiha Obito in that regard, Satoru thinks.
They're both quiet. But whereas Yuta is the sort of quiet consideration of a boy who cares but doesn't have many words to show it, Uchiha Obito is the sort of silence that's cold and oppressive.
Though, the cold silence has long given way into something more melancholy as Uchiha Obito chewed through his words. It makes it resemble Yuta more, in that way. Even if they were like night and day. But Satoru thinks there's a resemblance to be had there.
Satoru huffs out a laugh. Feeling like he's in some kind of bizarre parent-teacher meeting.
"Good," Uchiha Obito says. A thousand and one words left unsaid on its lips. Something wistful yet relieved, a boulder off its shoulder that Satoru hadn't quite seen before. The sunset falls slightly and the world is slightly darker than before.
And yet.
Satoru thinks that Uchiha Obito's eyes seem to almost shine, despite it still being that of ink rather than red.
"Ask your question," Uchiha Obito says lightly. An act of generosity that doesn't go unnoticed. There's an almost casual lilt to its voice, almost beckoning. Almost as though it wants Satoru to ask.
It's now looking at Satoru and it seems almost open, it seems like it'll answer whatever he asks.
A favor for a favor. A tale for a tale. A gift for another.
It was pragmatic like that, Satoru notes. Certain and sure that Satoru wouldn't have told it about Yuta unless it had something to offer up in turn.
Which was partly true, but also not.
Half of Satoru had wanted to tell the curse about Yuta just as an attempt to crack something open.
The other half?
He has no idea, really.
Satoru supposes he shouldn't talk. Every single one of their conversations has been an exchange of information. Of trading hints and scraps and hoping that you win the bigger bargain.
Satoru knows he could ask about vessels, curses, anything and everything at all and Uchiha Obito would indulge him because it feels indebted.
Well, not everything, Satoru supposes. Uchiha Obito is feeling generous, but not as generous as to give more than what Satoru has given it.
It's a shot in the dark, hoping to condense everything into a question. Light the arrow ablaze and let it trail across the night sky and illuminate the most it could. Right now, right here, when Uchiha Obito is the most vulnerable it's ever been in front of him.
Peel back the layers- take off the mask-
Uchiha Obito is unfolding right in front of Satoru.
And he relishes in it.
He's learning things about this curse that no one has any idea about. He's learning about it in a way that no one has for centuries and centuries. And anyone else who can claim to have known is long buried under dirt and rubble, left forgotten amidst countless other graves.
Uchiha Obito averts its eyes from family. It hides away from things that can hurt it.
There's something special about family, for Uchiha Obito. Something about blood and clan. Something that it cannot erase even if it pains it to think about them. Even if they're long dead and gone it clings onto their symbol on its back, the uchiwa fan that seems to sway with the win with its movement. It clings to their name, never having abandoned it even if it would allow it to forget the pain of the past, the sins of the past.
It clings onto Okkotsu Yuta, a sorcerer- its natural enemy.
Even if it averts its eyes, even if it doesn't want to face these things- family, clan, Okkotsu Yuta- it wants to.
There's an aching humanity about that. Something almost cowardly about it. Something that's terribly weak and terribly sympathetic. A sight you want to avert your eyes from but you can't because it's unfolding right in front of you.
It's like hiding away from the sun as it scorches you, but wanting to burn all the same for just its warmth.
Satoru wonders if Uchiha Obito had ever been burnt.
He wonders if it was better for Uchiha Obito to have never known the hurt, and yet never known the warmth than it is for Uchiha Obito to know the warmth and to be scorched because of it.
He wonders which was better, if there is such a 'better' to be had.
Just like with its parents, just like with family-
Satoru wonders if it had ever had a choice that wasn't between worse and worser.
Uchiha Obito's fate is a special one.
But it is in all the wrong ways.
Satoru's fate was also a special one.
He is blessed, Uchiha Obito was not.
He gazes at Uchiha Obito.
He thinks of another person in his place, also blessed.
He wonders if they're thinking the same thing as him now. Standing in front of Uchiha Obito.
He can almost see a painting of the past. Uchiha Obito's hair is dipped in ink and it was still a 'he'. Another who bears the same last name stands in his place. Looking over to Uchiha Obito and thinking-
Perhaps our fates are the reverse of each other's.
It's a thought that burns.
"Were-" Satoru's not sure why his lips have parted and his voice has begun, but all he knows is that he wants toknow."Were you like Yuta-kun?"
Did you go through the motions of teenagehood? Did you try to be more grown up then you were? Did the adults around you indulge you? Did you make friends and rivals? Did you-
Satoru locks eyes with the curse, and he thinks he knows the answer.
His name means, 'to know.'
Did you manage to live up to your name?
There is a moment, then two.
Did you ever get to grow up at your own pace?
"No," Uchiha Obito replies. Almost seemingly humored that Satoru would suggest the idea. "I was the opposite."
And, needing no further for Satoru to ask questions, it continues.
"In just about everything."
Satoru hums and haws, it feels like one of the many walls around Uchiha Obito has come crumbling down.
"And what is that that you're not different in?"
Uchiha Obito raises a brow, as though Satoru were a particularly intrepid dog.
"Blood." Uchiha Obito's lips quirk up. Something like the dark kind of mirth.
Blood and clan. A family and an uchiwa.
"You acknowledge it?" Satoru is stalling out a bit, wanting to think about just what about that statement that irks him so much.
Uchiha Obito shrugs, a casual motion. "For now."
That wasn't a no, Satoru thinks.
He glances at Uchiha Obito. He thinks that there's more to the curse that resembles Yuta. Like it's appearance and eyes and-
"Is there nothing else that's similar about you two?"
Uchiha Obito seems to search its mind for a moment before replying with a curt, "No."
Satoru hums, playing with the ends of his hair for a moment before glancing back at Uchiha Obito.
"Well, aren't you both strong?"
That is what irks Satoru. Beyond blood, there's also talent. The power that Yuta will one day grow into and has already ingrained itself into Uchiha Obito's body like a second skin. They're both monsters in strength and talent.
To wield their technique, copy, they must be so.
For to truly be effective at copying, you must understand the mechanism beneath the technique.
Yuta could copy Toge's technique by seeing the other boy in action once.
Uchiha Obito had copied the nature curse's wood technique with a mere glance.
They're both monsters in that regard.
Satoru had mentioned Yuta being talented before in this conversation, so Uchiha Obito must also know.
So why deny it? Is it playing at being humble or is it something else?
The beginnings of a laugh escape Uchiha Obito before being stifled.
A sardonic thing that hinges on ear grating. As though it was truly amused, the sick kind of amusement.
It was short, but it rings inside Satoru's ears all the same.
"He's talented," Uchiha Obito says. "I was not."
There's something like the sound of shattering glass and a sandcastle swept away by the tidal waves of the ocean.
"Then how did you end up being-" Satoru can't quite say the word, he thinks he's stumbling over them a bit. "Being chosen."
If you weren't born special like me, then why-
Uchiha Obito stares at Satoru for a moment before saying:
"I wouldn't have been his first choice." There's something bitter in Uchiha Obito's expression. "It was the right place, right time for the both of us."
Uchiha Obito looks away, the sardonic kind of humor still present in its expression.
"Can you believe it? I wasn't even average." A challenge, a dare.
There's the sound of glass breaking in the distance, a sandcastle swept away by the ocean.
Satoru's world readjusts itself, just as it always does. His mind runs and runs as he reprocesses the information. Repaints the image, dip it in a new ink and paint out a new life.
Uchiha Obito wasn't born special.
He wasn't even the first choice.
Born to average parents, was a child that was less than average.
Then came whatever it was.
Before Satoru stands a monster in power. One of a kind. A monster that myths and legends would remember for ages to come.
There once existed a child that was deemed less than average. Easily forgotten within the flux and flow of history.
So was it fortune or woes?
Was it worth it? To trade in your everything for strength?
A chance that comes once in a lifetime. Right place, right time. Take the chance and plunge into its depths and come out stronger than you ever have before. Become the one that they need to bow down to and-
"They don't matter, not anymore." Spoken lightly, casually. As though Uchiha Obito didn't realize what it was saying. What it was revealing.
So they once mattered?
Make one's parents proud.
Clan and blood. Uchiha and uchiwa. Power and prestige.
Satoru knows, intimately, the gap between the talented and the not. Especially in clans such as theirs. Well established ones. Even in minor ones.
To be talented was to be heralded. To lack talent was to be scorned.
A parentless child, with little talent. One can already imagine their treatment in the clan.
So was it a choice at all?
To that child- to the person that child grew up to be- whenever the 'right time' was-
To trade in your everything for a strength sounds a lot less unfair if you had nothing to begin with.
Clan and blood. Uchiha and uchiwa. Power and prestige.
Satoru's hypothesis hasn't changed much at all, he thinks. It has only grown worse.
Schrödinger's cat.
Dead and alive.
Would his parents love him as he was? Or would they love him after?
Which would hurt more? That they loved him for all he was and he could've lived a normal life away from the jujutsu world? Or that they'll love him after only for this power that he traded his nothing for?
Whatever path Uchiha Obito embarked on. By the end of it-
It was better that his parents remained a bygone memory, was probably what he thought.
For then, only then, will it not hurt.
For only then, will he not regret that path that he's on.
A path that left him alone, more than ever.
That shaped him into a special existence, only it's the type of special that makes you wish you were normal.
Satoru can imagine it.
There's nothing that hurts more than receiving your dream only to realize it's a nightmare.
Like monkeys grabbing for the moon's reflection in the waters, only to realize too late that they've drowned.
A chance that comes only once in a lifetime.
Right time, right place.
Or perhaps, it could be said that it was the wrong time, wrong place, wrongeverything.
For the destination that awaited Uchiha Obito was nothing butwrong.
It's almost cruel, Satoru thinks.
He can almost imagine Uchiha Obito feeling the new power- the new curse- within himself and feeling proud. Proud from no longer being the one that's not talented enough.
Where is that happiness now?
It's gone. Like the moon's reflection in the waters- it's only temporary. An illusory beauty. Once the sun rises-
You only burn.
"We don't have anything in common besides blood," Uchiha Obito says. "And it should stay that way."
Satoru thinks now, that rather it being an act of shirking away from warmth- from its last family. It's also an act of mercy from a man who thought he didn't have any, not anymore.
Perhaps for Uchiha Obito, it was best that Okkotsu Yuta is distant from the Uchiha legacy, lest it drag him down with it.
It was perhaps best for Yuta to stay far, far away from Uchiha Obito. Lest they become the same.
Children are awfully impressionable, Satoru thinks.
And perhaps Uchiha Obito knew that best of all.
This, too, is not a statement.
Rather it's a request.
From a man who thought himself above it all. From a man who didn't know he still cared.
It's Uchiha Obito looking at Satoru and saying,Keep that boy away from me, for both our sake.
"Go on, ask me more questions, I can see you want to," Uchiha Obito beckons. Asking if it's a deal Satoru will take.
Keep Yuta away, keep the boy protected, let Yuta enjoy the childhood that he has and just let him grow up the way it should be and Uchiha Obito will find some generosity in its heart to give up more information. Precious things that will make it lag further in this game of theirs.
It's a good deal, all considered.
Satoru was planning on letting Yuta grow at his own pace, albeit wanting to push the boy sometimes to test his limits. So Uchiha Obito's request is something that he'll have already wanted to do. All of this for more information, information that he desperately wants.
For example- who is this 'he' that Uchiha Obito refers to? What exactly happened to shape a weak child into a monster? What happened with the vessels that Uchiha Obito exorcised?
Did Uchiha Obito manage to find some reprise by his ancestor's side?
He wants to know, he wants to know, know,know.
But is it right?
Satoru wouldn't say that he's a moral or just person.
But this is not just about Yuta copying Uchiha Obito.
It's about two people thatwantsfor family and one is taciturn and withdrawn and the other is reaching for distance with every possible chance.
But Yuta did take the first step. Asking Satoru to meet Uchiha Obito again.
This is Uchiha Obito cutting open a chasm between them and asking Satoru to help.
So what will it be?
Satoru wants to sigh.
It was never a question at all, was it?
"Yuta-kun wants to meet you," Satoru says casually. "Don't worry, I'll be here to chaperone."
There is a moment, then two. Uchiha Obito looks taken aback. Its blinks have gone off kilter and its breathing has stopped before resuming.
Satoru would've been surprised at himself, too. If he were from before, before.
But he's a teacher now.
And teachers let their students make their own decisions. Protect them if it goes wrong and cheer them on if it goes right. But Satoru doesn't get the right to take the decision away from Yuta, even if it may end in tears.
Schrödinger's cat.
Dead and alive.
If Uchiha Obito chooses to think the cat dead; then Satoru will place his bets on the cat being alive.
Yuta owes him a lot of kikufuku for this, Satoru thinks wryly. The best kind.
Uchiha Obito reassesses Satoru. Looking at him anew and seemingly finding him infuriating but also-
There's something to be said about it seemed almost warm. Warmer than the light of the setting sun, warmer than the gentlest of fires.
It's clearly exasperated. And a bit annoyed that Satoru would reject its deal.
But rather than being unhappy, there's something about Satoru's actions that made it feel relieved instead.
Perhaps it's Yuta, Satoru thinks. Perhaps it realizes that Satoru was a teacher first and foremost and there's something about it that reassures it.
Really,Satoru thinks distantly. Not sure why he, too, feels exasperated in turn.
You already care about Yuta without even knowing him that much.
It's a folly, no doubt. Some kind of weakness. But all the same, Satoru can't find it in his heart to exploit it as harshly as he could've.
Perhaps it's because it's related to Yuta, perhaps it's because Yuta wants to know it.
Or perhaps it's because he can tell it cares about Yuta, even if it pretends it cannot care less.
"That is if you can find me," Uchiha Obito challenges casually.
And Satoru has always risen to the challenge.
"Don't worry, I can find you wherever, whenever."
Uchiha Obito huffs out a laugh. A stringent thing that's no less loud in the space between them.
"Stalker."
Satoru balks in offense for a moment before realizing that this was, perhaps, light banter. That whatever they're sharing under the sunset is no longer just a game of question here and answer there. No longer just a treasure hunt. No longer harshly traded words and wanting to dig at whatever that lies between them. The veil has fallen.
What lies beneath it is just Uchiha Obito, the man who once was, and Gojo Satoru, Yuta's teacher.
If it could be described-
Maybe it's like a parent-teacher conference, Satoru thinks. The weirdest that he's had.
"Ask your question, Satoru," it says, a soft timber. Satoru thinks no one has said his name like that before. The raspy kind of voice mixed with exasperation and an almost crooning edge that is more teasing now than threatening.
This, Satoru realizes, is showing its gratitude for Satoru's care for Yuta. Granting a gift for Satoru being Yuta's teacher. Giving Satoru what he wants anyway even if the deal is called off- or perhaps it's because the deal was called off that it's letting Satoru dig, now, more than ever.
Really,Satoru thinks, exasperated you even see yourself?
Caring about a boy it wishes wouldn't end up like it.
Caring for a boy it only met once.
It's certainly a weakness, a folly, a crack in the indomitable Uchiha Obito.
And yet.
Satoru can't find it within himself to scorn it.
And so he asks:
"Who is 'he'?" Satoru asks.
Uchiha Obito stills. Some of the warmth having been chilled away by the frost of winter, as though recalling something best left forgotten.
"Madara." The answer is curt, cold, almost cutting with a pained edge to it. "Uchiha Madara."
Clan and blood. Uchiha and uchiwa. Power and prestige.
A tale is unfolding in front of Satoru, but it feels all wrong.
"And when was the 'right time, right place?'"
The world stills as the chains rattle and Uchiha Obito stops breathing, stops existing as human.
"I was the right age, and in the right circumstance," Uchiha Obito says. "He didn't have much of a choice."
What was the right age and circumstance?Satoru thinks, his heart thundering in his ears.
Uchiha Obito fixes him with a wry smile, as though reading his thoughts.
"Young and dying."
There is the sound of shattering glass and a sandcastle swept away by the ocean.
