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Rin had thought this to be impossible, once upon a time. She could swear there had been a tailed beast, a weak seal, a Chidori burning a hole through her heart. But all of that was now forgotten as she watched Kakashi’s handsome face bared to her, morning after morning. She would watch as his hooded eyes opened—one gray, one red and whirling—just to gaze lovingly upon her.
When she would hum and kiss Kakashi’s softly bristled cheek, Rin would feel her heart flutter. She’d pull Kakashi’s mask up over his chin and the bridge of his narrow nose, memorizing the full lips, pretty beauty mark, and sharp jawline she’d admired all through the night. Being able to feast her eyes on his full face always brought a smile to Rin’s lips, reassuring her that Kakashi had made love to her the night prior.
She hadn’t merely dreamed that Kakashi trusted her, loved her, and wanted her.
Sometimes, she’d wonder if these butterflies she felt in his presence, fluttering through her stomach and chest, were phantoms from something else entirely. No matter how many mornings passed this way, Rin felt lingering pulses of electricity shocking her aching heart like the nightmare had been her reality; maybe she’d never grown up to spend her life with the genin teammate she’d fallen for. Anxiety would spike through her at that thought, bringing both physical and emotional forms of pain to an unbearable precipice. But then she’d calm herself, rationalizing that the memory, the pain, the trauma, the lost years—all had to be imagined, because here they were, nestling in the comfort of their bed.
Rin would cup her hand over Kakashi’s cheek in those moments of terrible doubt, reassuring herself this was real with the convincingly soft feel of the mask and Kakashi’s warm skin under her fingertips. It felt as real as it could ever be. It was, at least, as real as it needed to be—for Rin.
Obito was the one who had made the illusion possible to believe, but also the one who inevitably reminded Rin of reality whenever he came to mind.
In the period of time he’d masqueraded as Madara Uchiha, hiding his real face behind masks which never fit (as if Rin wouldn’t see the boy she knew and cared for), he’d shown her his way of denying reality. Rin had never expected his scheming to lead her to where she was now. She’d thought this was only intended for those who were on the battlefield when the red moon had first hung in the sky, only for those who still had beating hearts inhabiting their chests rather than hollow cavities already eviscerated by the ones they’d loved.
When she would remember what this was all about, Rin would wonder what was happening in the real Kakashi’s dreams. She wondered if he knew he was dying, soon to be like her. She wondered if any of them knew. She worried that Obito might not dream along with them at all, that maybe he’d sentenced himself to the worst punishment, being left alone and abandoned in the real world to maintain a genjutsu he’d intended to use as his own escape from cruel reality.
When Kakashi would sweep Rin into his strong arms at the end of a sunlit day in the village, those speculations of Rin’s would waste away to nothing—just like the slowly changing corpses in the real world. Rin could caress Kakashi’s strong chest, pushing out of her mind the thought that his atrophying muscles were shriveling inside a cocoon while his mind lied to him with pretty images and sensations that were oh so convincing. So beautifully done, this genjutsu.
Obito could be proud of himself.
And Rin—Rin, like so many others long dead, feasted off of this debauchery of wasting minds like a parasite. It was addicting, this taking of what she’d always wanted and never had. Rin’s life had been unfairly cut short the first time around, and so, she couldn’t deny herself this, not when it could be her last chance at happiness (however superficial and fragile that was).
Obito might have cursed the living with the inevitability of death, but with this genjutsu, he’d also blessed the dead with a second chance to live out their dreams. Reality in the ninja world was harsh. Rin could see why he’d done it. As much as it brought pleasure to her afterlife, for Kakashi’s sake and all the others’, she wished he hadn’t.
And then she would sleep, wake, and forget. She’d embrace the comforts, sensations and imagery that surrounded her. She’d hold on to every moment with Kakashi all over again until the doubts and painful memories would, inevitably, find their way to the surface, forcing her to grapple with her mortality.
She’d always lose.
But every beautiful day, she had a chance to start all over again.