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The darkness of the night sky was claustrophobic in its ceaseless void. The stars so far and distant were supposedly as bright as a fireball, yet they seemed dull like the reflection of water droplets hanging from the earth's expansive ceiling.
“Kakashi can you hear me?”
Minato Sensei’s voice had a whispery viperous lilt to it. One he had never heard before. The sibilant hiss sent a chill up his spine.
“Rin, I think he’s waking up.”
The green glow of healing chakra looked sickly from Kakashi’s mismatched eyes. Kakashi blinked to clear the dirt and debris corrupting his sight. Attempting to rid himself of the pounding headache and double vision. The images were not twins, not exact copies–copy, a title that would soon haunt him for the rest of his life.
“Kakashi?”
No perhaps he wasn’t just seeing double, he was experiencing it entirely.
Rin sent waves of restorative chakra to Kakashi’s chakra network, and again she felt that odd tiny pang of foreign vitality. She ignored it and methodically continued her work as Minato readjusted Kakashi in his lap.
“Can he hear us?” Minato asked Rin.
The chakra felt odd, out of place. Or maybe his skin felt out of place, he felt like an outsider in his own body. He couldn’t remember how he got here. He saw the white hot blaze of chidori and then nothing, an all consuming darkness. He was drained, hollow and broken. He shut his eyes and tried to focus on the familiar sting that accompanied medic ninjutsu but he just couldn’t feel it. No pain, nothing, like he wasn't there at all.
Kakashi tried to sit up, he clenched and unclenched his fists, wiggled his toes. He opened his eyes to look for Rin and Sensei, confirming that they were truly there. Violent cyclical images flooded his vision, and a sharp pain like molten steel pierced his skull. Kakashi jolted upright, clutching his freshly implanted eye. His stomach flipped from the dizzying headache and the rhythmic ringing in his ears went off like warning bells causing him to salivate like one of Pavlov's dogs. Kakashi pulled down his mask and retched forward.
“Ahh you’re finally awake.” Came that eerily taunting hiss. Too menacing and clinical to belong to Rin or Sensei. Kakashi cried out in pain; every tiny sensation returned, even the electrical bite of Chidroi in his palm. His agonized groans echoed in his head. And he was out again.
**
When Kakashi next awoke it was to be assaulted by the flickering fluorescent hospital lights. He pulled himself up to lean back against the headboard. The visions he saw that night felt like a distant memory or maybe even a dream half forgotten in the hours of waking. What Kakashi remembered clearly was that Obito was dead.
He is dead and it’s all my fault.
A soft snoring made him jump, he reached instinctively for a kunai at his hip but of course came up empty handed–his hospital gown wasn’t equipped for war.
Kushina was asleep in a chair beside his bed, her head knocked back. Crocheting needles laid forgotten in her lap, clumsily attached to a rather wobbly green scarf. Flowers fresh and in bloom were seated on his nightstand. What was she doing here?
Minato came into the room tired, hunched over two miniscule cups of coffee clutched in each hand. He was startled to see Kakashi upright.
“You’re finally awake!” He said. Kakashi smiled weakly through his mask, hearing that disgusting voice echo behind his Sensei’s.
Minato left Kushina to rest and placed the dixie cup of coffee beside her. He took a seat on the edge of Kakashi’s bed.
“Sensei?” Kakashi said. “I don’t remember anything after…after…”
Minato placed a hand on top of Kakashi’s.
“Obito.” He said sorrowfully. “You passed out just as I got there. It must have been the strain on your chakra network. You and Rin were surrounded by enemy nin. She told me everything.” He gave Kakashi a smile and a sigh.
“I’m sorry I didn’t get there sooner, I’m so sorry Kakashi.”
“What about the mission, the war?” Kakashi asked, trying to cling to the safety of Konoha guidelines; rules were all he had left to guide him.
“We completed the mission in your stead, Captain.”
Minato told and retold Kakashi what happened in its entirety, beginning to end over and over as many times as Kakashi needed to hear it. He couldn’t account for that voice he heard, maybe he hit his head too hard. Kakashi's new eye was bandaged, he didn’t even notice. He’d grown accustomed almost immediately to seeing with only one. Perhaps because his whole body had mastered the ability to adapt to life alone.
“Rin should be stopping by soon, she comes to see you everyday.” Minato said in an attempt to cheer him up. Kakashi nodded, he wished he didn’t know. He was afraid to face her again. In Obito's sacrifice and death Rin proclaimed her love for him instead.
He remembered not thinking twice about leaving her behind, not until Obito questioned him.
Not until Obito gave him sight. Not until Obito gave him a second chance at life.
Kakashi glanced back at Kushina uncomfortably squished into the too small chair. At the bags under Sensei’s eyes, he’d never seen him look so tired, not even during the war.
“Kushina didn’t want to leave your side, you should have seen her blow up at the nurses that tried to make her leave. It was pretty scary.” Minato chuckled.
Kakashi swallowed thickly, they were all here for him. Spending sleepless nights in a cramped hospital room, checking on him day in and day out. The thought that the clumsy green scarf could be for him made him feel nauseous. He deserved to be alone.
Minato had met with the Uchiha clan to discuss Kakashi keeping the dojutsu. Eventually Fugaku conceded despite the elders' protests. Obitos dying wish and last request would be granted. The power of the sharingan belonged to Kakashi, and everything that came with it.
After 2 reluctant weeks in the hospital, Kakashi couldn’t wait to return to his empty home. Where he could feel safe in his anonymity.
His training was limited as he had to adjust to the new strain on his chakra reserves. He wasn’t allowed to return to active duty without the hospitals go ahead, with nothing else to do Kakashi returned to an old pastime.
Hours spent kneeling before their graves, his father and now Obito too; another person he could not save. Another person left to suffer because of his arrogance. He didn’t know if it was the gods that saw fit to judge him and punish him for his sins, either way Kakashi didn’t deserve forgiveness. So when he fell to his knees before the memorial stone day in and day out he would not pray, he would not beg these crimes of his to be absolved. He chose to follow the rules and this is where it got him. Staring at his best friend's name etched into precious stone. Those ludacris goggles draped over the top was all he had left, as Obito’s final resting place was under a pile of rubble in a foreign land. A burial fate intended for Kakashi.
Eventually even mourning had been too much to bear and he returned to his fathers’ hallowed home. Kakashi always had problems sleeping, his nightmares followed him. Slept outside his bedroom door, 14 and a half steps away to be exact. Sometimes he’d consider curling up in the faded tatami just as his father had, but never did he have the strength to end it. He needed to live if only in service to others, he could not face them again in the afterlife without righting his wrongs.
**
He woke up violently coughing, wheezing for breath. His throat was so raw even the air stung.
“Ahhh you’re finally awake” Came an unfamiliar voice, light and airy reverberating back to him.
He was shrouded in darkness and despite the sting in his chest he could hardly bear the exertion of sitting upright.
“Easy now, you’re lucky to still be breathing.” The voice hissed again.
He forced himself up in one go, slumping back against the wall behind him. Forcing the dirt and dust from his lungs.
“Who are you?” He asked, making a face void of recognition but his brow would not be drawn into submission so easily.
His brow defied him further, scrunching inwards almost impossibly so. His own voice sounded foreign. He squeezed his eyes shut ignoring the foreign presence of the other man. He needed to remember who he was, a name-just a name would be good. His past, his life, his friends and family had all vanished, yet he had just been dreaming of them so clearly- more clearly than he had ever seen the world .
“Who am I?” said the voice.
Yes, who am I…
“I am the one who saved you.”
Why did I need to be saved…
The voice, or rather the man it belonged to lit a candle then another and another. He hardly looked like a man at all.
“I wasn’t sure how long you’d sleep, honestly I wasn’t sure you’d wake up at all…How delightful for both of us that you have.” The voice man said.
In the dim light provided by the candles he could see now, clearly like the visions of his dream where he was…and what he was. He was so heavily bandaged it was hard to see where flesh ended and gauze began, he strained to reach a hand to touch his face, scarred jagged skin met his withered fingertips.
“You were in a nasty accident.” The man said. “You don’t recall?”
He shook his head as much as his bindings permitted.
“Then I suppose that makes me a god to you.” The man’s laugh was chilling.
He swallowed hard, attempting to moisten his throat-dry from all the coughing.
“Who-who am I?” He asked the man.
“Who are you? Does it really matter?” The man brought his hand to cup his chin in thought. “You could be… a ghost, a legend like Madara Uchiha, or just a broken boy” he said, sparing a venomous glance. “Well I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to tell you now, you’ve already died once.” He said with a sickening smile.
“So I suppose you are all of those things Obito.”
**
Kakashi woke up panicked and sweating, he’d thrashed so violently he kicked the covers to the floor. He sat up to breathe better and clutched his chest, feeling his heart strain. He wasn’t in that cave anymore, now he was safe in his own bed. But it was real, this was real. Obito was alive.
“Sensei Sensei!” Kakashi called, pounding relentlessly on Minato’s front door.
He wasn’t sure what time it was when he woke, the world was still dark but it didn’t matter. He could still be saved.
Minato opened the front door with a kunai drawn and his eyes barely open, his usually impressive hair matted down to one side.
"He’s alive, we have to go back, we have to go now!” Kakashi insisted, tugging on his Sensei’s oversized t-shirt.
“Kakashi slow down, who-who’s alive?”
“Obito! Sensei-he needs us–we have to go!”
“Obito is dead, Kakashi.” Minato said, wincing at the harshness of his words.
“He’s alive!”
Kushina stood in the doorway, arms crossed over her chest. As she too was alerted by their late night visitor. For once she didn’t know what to say when Minato turned to look at her, she’d never seen him so distraught.
“Kakashi, why don't you come inside and have something to eat.”
“We don’t have time, we have to go.”
Kushina and Minato convinced Kakashi to come inside, and convinced him to have a cup of tea. He didn’t miss the looks they exchanged with one another, or the way Kushina pressed her palm against his forehead as she swiped a hand through his hair. They convinced Kakashi to stay the night in their guest room, they convinced him that the vision he had was only a nightmare, more importantly they convinced him that Obito was dead.
Kushina checked in with the medics the next day concerned his concussion had done more serious damage. The medics assured her that he was fine.
“Low-grade concussion coupled with chakra exhaustion takes its toll but it’s not uncommon, we see it quite frequently. It’s normal to have vivid dreams after suffering any form of traumatic injury.” He reaffirmed her.
Kakashi was afraid to go back to sleep in the nights that followed. He wasn’t sure if he was more afraid of having another nightmare or finding confirmation that he was crazy. No nightmare had ever felt this real. He stayed awake for as long as he could, and on the third day his fight grew fruitless. He woke up 13 hours later on his couch. But no dreams.. Maybe it was all in his head. He had seen Obito get crushed by the boulder intended for him, no one could survive that. Especially after the rest of the cave fell in.
A week later Kakashi was cleared to return to Shinobi work. Minato and Kushina tried to keep an eye on him as best they could but Kakashi sunk further into himself than ever before. Accepting mission after mission, the Village was in need. Minato was in talks to become the next Hokage, but until then he could do nothing to keep Kakashi from assignments. He was promoted to Jonin at his recommendation after all.
**
Obito laid on that stiff old bed for weeks before he was wheeled into a larger, somehow more sinister room. The man had him hooked up to tubes and wires. And gave him strict instructions to rest until the skin grafts fully healed.
“I have been experimenting with the first’s DNA for years, I never considered using the tissue like this. Not until I found you, my most promising creation.”
Obito did as he was told, it didn’t hurt much any more, he barely felt a thing. According to the man his body readily accepted the substitute skin and the healing properties that came with it. Obito slept a lot, his recovery would be lengthy and he was told to sleep as much as he could since food would no longer be necessary. Obito remembered best in sleep the faces of his loved ones. His Sensei and Kushina, Rin and his Grandma, even Bakashi.
Memories of Bakashi were the clearest like they were etched into his mind. Their final fight together, as Kakashi took the blow intended for Obito and lost his eye in the process. He could recall move for move how fluidly they fought together to rescue Rin. He lived the moments he accepted death over and over, and not once did he regret his choice; he’d do it again in a heartbeat. And Obito would do whatever his strange savior told him because then he could go back home to Team 7.
In the weeks that followed Obtio felt the foreign skin becoming more and more like a part of him. He was finally allowed to get out of bed. He felt like his infant cousin Itachi as he tried to stand on his prosthetic leg. It was like he had to learn to live again, as he stumbled around trying his best to put one foot in front of the other. Eventually he’d end up frustrated–flat on his back on the stiff clinical mattress with an exasperated sigh.
By day 53 he’d begun to lose track altogether, every hour felt the same as the last but Obito was nothing if not determined; he would make it back home.
Walking became a skill and no longer a task that required thought and reflection. His savior was right Obito no longer needed food for survival, in fact he found himself not even missing the taste. The only thing he longed for was the strength to make it home. He continued his exercises every morning, afternoon and evening. Pushups, and lunges, sit-ups and pull-ups on a large mechanical piece of equipment–until his savior scolded him for being reckless. Yet still the man could not deny Obito was improving far beyond his expectations.
“Today you begin training with this.” The man said, handing Obito an old withered scroll.
Obito frowned at the parchment, unrolling it carefully. He needed to get out of here, he couldn’t waste his time reading.
“You act as though knowledge will hurt you?” Hissed the man.
Obito rolled his eyes, he was sick of his savior’s lectures. Nonetheless he was grateful so he skimmed through the scroll to find fighting forms, hand signs and notes scrawled on the parchment. This was…
“This belonged to Lord First, Hashirama Senju. The God of Shinobi. You would not believe what lengths I've gone to obtain this. It is vital for our-your development. You will read this until you can recite it in your sleep, then we will begin your training with mokuton.”
Obito stared blankly at the page, at the delicately painted branches of wood erupting from the cartoon man’s fists. Then at his own mangled skin, his right arm still underdeveloped when compared to his left.
“If I learn this-”
“When you Master it.” The man corrected.
“When I master this, then I can leave. I’ll be healthy enough to go home?” Obito asked, not lifting his eyes from the scroll.
“When you master this, dear boy you will be invincible.”
The sickening smile in the man’s iridescent eyes made Obito wonder if perhaps this man wasn’t his savior, but rather his captor.
**
Kakashi enjoyed his dreamless sleep as best he could, yet every day he faced the judgemental and demeaning shine of Obito’s cracked goggles draped over the memorial stone he was victim to that gnawing feeling in his heart. Like a part of him was missing, like a part of Obito was calling out to him; even if from beyond the grave.
“Give me a sign Obito. Tell me you’re still out there.” He whispered to the wind. He wasn’t sure what was better to believe these days.
Kakashi returned to the Memorial stone the next day and was furious and frantic when Obito’s goggles were missing. Minato was waiting for him.
“Where are they?” He spat at his Sensei.
“Obito’s grandmother has them.” Minato began, gesturing for Kakashi to take a seat with him in front of the stone. Kakashi refused and stood taller, his arms crossed over his chest.
“Kakashi, you have to understand. It’s all she has left of her grandson. She wanted to bury something for him, to have a piece of him here.” Minato said.
Kakashi didn’t know what to say. The cracked lens of those disgustingly orange goggles was all Kakashi had too. He had found them, clung to them in all sense of the meaning. They belonged to him as much as they belonged to Obito. He looked back up at Sensei when his throat began to tighten and he saw an after image when he blinked like a flash of yellow.
“Kakashi, I think it’d be good for you to go to the services as well. We’re all going. You can come with Kushina and I. Rin will be there.”
He focused on that sensation as he ignored Minato’s words. The bright blue sky turned dark and damp, illuminated by colored artificial lights. The man that stood before him was paler than the moon. Kakashi flinched at a sharp pain in the crook of his elbow. He glanced at the spot. There were scars healing over olive skin where his turquoise veins protruded. The circulation to his upper arm was cut off and a slim trickle of blood dripped from the syringe sticking out of the inside of his elbow.
“Just one more. You know how important this is for my research. For your well being.” The pale man said, reaching for another empty vial.
“Obito?” Kakashi whispered to himself.
--“Kakashi!”
A flash of yellow disturbed his thought as Minato now stood in front of him, hands firmly squeezing his shoulders.
“Kakashi?” He said again as their eyes met. “I’m worried about you, what’s going on?”
Kakashi shook off his Sensei and mumbled, “I’ll see you at the funeral.” And he took off.
If pretending Obito was dead made him seem sane and kept Minato from forcing him to speak to another counselor at the hospital then Kakashi could pretend.
It made Kakashi sick to sit there and pretend Obito was dead, to see his grandma hold on so tightly to his goggles. Obito would surely need them again, although without them he could pretend dirt really was in his eyes. Kakashi smiled to himself. He wanted to tell her, to tell everyone that Obito was still out there, safe (for now) and alive. The way Minato reacted kept Kakashi quiet. He couldn’t explain how he knew, it was the visions he had, yes but a feeling too; a feeling he could not explain. Kakashi refused to say goodbye to Obito like everyone else, he remained seated in the back row.
He would not say goodbye until he said hello again.