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There is no waking up. No shocked inhale, no sudden realization.
You are simply here as you have always been, perfect and unchanging as the burning stars above. Your fate is sure. Your role is set.
That your part is as nothing but a tragic memory is no matter. Side characters aren’t allowed to beg for more lines, they just need to be present enough to remember. And then drama, tears, whisked off stage left and returned only for intermittent flashbacks.
Maybe it’s easier like this. Humans are messy. And you… you don’t exist in that way, not in the manner that everyone else does. To live, to exist… it all sounds very complicated, doesn’t it? And so maybe it’s easiest to follow along, to play your role and play it right. You know you can do it.
After all, you have always been an excellent actress.
—
The day you first meet Uchiha Obito is a day like any other. Only you can hear the winding of the gears, the quiet footsteps of your destiny creeping ever closer.
And he’s… ordinary. That’s the thing. You’re not entirely sure what you were expecting, but surely the future incarnation of Uchiha Madara would at least have some sort of presence. A glowing indication of the future devastation he would become. But no. Uchiha Obito is a clumsy thing, all red cheeks and scraped knees, half-lisped words and watery eyes.
You weren’t sure how to feel at first, but now you can’t help but look at him with distaste. None of it shows on your face. In Obito’s eyes, you’re practically a goddess. Divine in your kindness, in your simple good.
You can see the image forming in Obito’s head, a complete stranger sporting your own visage. You promise Obito forever, you tell him you believe in him, and you see how it strengthens.
Watch how it smiles. How it waves. Be proud. You’re the one who put it there.
Why do you detest it so?
–
Hatake Kakashi sits in front of you at the Academy. He’s an adorable kid. There’s a serious demeanour about him that sits altogether wrong on a five-year-old’s shoulders. Where Uchiha Obito is plain and memorable only in his insistence at being heard, Hatake Kakashi is naturally striking. His silver hair is distinct, and that focused gleam in his eyes is nearly arresting. A boy playing at being a man, but he commands attention all the same. Worthy of being a main character, certainly.
You hate him on sight.
Obito hates him too, but for all the wrong reasons. His face flushes and his fists clench, ready to shout every time Kakashi shows him up.
Good, you think. Get angry. Be furious! Why should you both have to die for Hatake Kakashi?
But when Obito jabs his finger at Kakashi’s chest, he doesn’t reach up to pluck his eyes out of his skull. When he grasps his hand in a reluctant sign of confrontation, he doesn’t lop it right off at the wrist to let it thud into the gritty mud below.
It leaves you feeling achingly unsatisfied.
–
In class, whenever you’re not taking your perfectly organized and colour-coded notes, your eyes are drilling into the back of Kakashi’s head. The girls giggle and titter. Young love, it must be. Why else would you look at Kakashi so ardently?
They corner you at lunch break. You let them. Nohara Rin is a friendly girl, and she would never shy away from teasing classroom gossip.
“Do you like him?” A girl whispers. She’s forgettable in the way that everyone else is, distant shadows present only to serve as the backdrop to your tale. You can’t help but feel a surge of jealousy.
“You’re always staring, Rin-chan!”
“Am I?” You cover your mouth. “Ah, I suppose I can’t help it!”
“So you are interested in him!”
Interested? Could such a word be enough, when your entire world revolves around him? You exist as a ghost made flesh. You were only given life to torment him.
Your eyes dart across the yard, gaze flickering over to the lone figure beneath the tree. He looks so small, and the kunai in his hands is so large.
This is the boy who will be your death.
You smile Nohara Rin’s perfect smile, and say, “I was always made for him.”
—
Hatake Sakumo has broad shoulders and eyes that crinkle when he laughs. You pity him in some sense. You know that laughter will disappear all too soon.
Obito is arguing with Kakashi again, and they get into a scuffle as soon as school lets out. Kakashi wins, because when does he not? Even when he loses, he’s still the winner of his own life.
“Kakashi!” Sakumo calls, and his voice is chiding and sharp.
You bounce up to them both, and work to nudge Obito back, offering Sakumo a little bow. “I’m so sorry! Please, accept my apology on his behalf. Obito means well, really. He just gets a little frustrated sometimes.”
He does mean well, is the thing. Even the greatest of his atrocities are all for a simple childhood dream. It’s grating. If you were given the chance to end the world, you’d do it and mean it.
“Oh no, it’s quite alright.” Sakumo waves you off with a laugh. “Though it’s very sweet of you to say.”
“Oh.” Your blush comes as easily as anything. “Yes. It’s just that Kakashi makes everything seem easy. He really is amazing. You must be proud.”
You’re not even sure yourself what you’re looking for. If Sakumo is like you, then surely he must feel it too. Bitterness, maybe. Resentment that both your lives and deaths belong to his son and his son alone.
But if you were looking for shared solidarity between two doomed souls, it never comes. Sakumo’s smile sends your heart crawling. You want to rip it out yourself.
“You’re a very sweet girl,” he repeats. “I’m sure you’ll become quite an amazing shinobi as well.”
If the will of fire is the burning heart of a shinobi, then you are only fodder to feed the flame. Sakumo as well, even if he doesn’t know it yet. But you have little capacity for sympathy, and what goodwill his shared circumstances have granted him has long since burnt away.
“Thank you!” You chirp.
When the man dies, you laugh and laugh.
—
Obito tells you he’s going to be Hokage. You know he won’t be. Instead, it will be Kakashi, taking over every one of your dreams once more. You know he doesn’t want it, which is the worst part. Or is it? It’s all the worst. You want to rip it all to shreds. All you know is that he should at least have the decency to be thankful for being the instrument to your destruction.
“Rin-chan,” Obito says. “I can do it. I’ll become Hokage and make my clan proud! It’s a promise!”
“I believe in you,” you tell him. “I’ll stay by your side and watch it happen! That’s a promise from me.”
Meaningless words, but you lie with every breath, so why should this be any different?
“Rin…”
Obito loves you. Or perhaps not you, but he does love Nohara Rin. You know this to be true because you’ve spent years ensuring it.
You offer to share your dango. He leaps on the offer like a man starved, and the sugar burns going down.
You fight the urge to claw out your own throat.
–
When you are assigned your genin teams, both you and Obito are moved under the care of Namikaze Minato. He is a puzzle and a mystery to you, and you can’t seem to look away.
This man is the murderer of all murderers. In the near future, he will kill one thousand people without blinking. And yet that cheery smile of his is real, isn’t it?
It’s not that you care about people’s lives either. Their faded-out faces mean nothing to you. But Namikaze Minato, a man who holds a few close and lets the rest wash away… He could drown in seas of red and remain smiling. Somehow, inconceivably, he’s happy like this.
You want to burn him alive.
On the way to the training grounds, he tells you about his brilliant girlfriend, his love for sealing, his hopes for a brighter Konoha. He leads you past the marketplace and the shallow ponds to a wide expanse of grass. That’s where you spot a familiar face.
Hatake Kakashi has grown up, but he still looks so young. He’s nothing like the lackadaisical jounin he will become, but you can see it already all the same.
“...Kakashi,” Obito greets begrudgingly.
“Kakashi!” You say brightly.
Kakashi does not acknowledge you back. This is fine. You think you prefer it this way.
–
Everybody celebrates on the day you pass your medic exams. You receive gifts – a med kit from Kakashi, strawberry dango from Obito, a specially sealed pouch from Minato. You smile and smile and eat that sickly sweet dango–
“You should be proud of yourself!” Minato tells you. “You’re officially a medic now. It’s an amazing accomplishment!”
That may be so, but it’s not your accomplishment, is it? It’s Nohara Rin’s. That’s why you trained for so long. Because it’s her role. Because it’s her destiny. And everything that is Nohara Rin’s belongs to Hatake Kakashi.
Is there nothing that you can lay claim to yourself?
It’s late at night while you lie in bed that you press your hand over the measured beating of your heart. You are a medic now, and you have long since mastered the techniques that give full control over a heart. They’re meant for healing, yes, but they have far more uses than just that.
What can grant life can just as easily take it away.
Your hand hovers over your chest. That quiet thump thump… it’s all so very fragile.
You could do it. You could end your pitiful nonexistence right here and now.
You won’t, but you could.
And this, right here? This is all yours.
–
Minato invites you all to dinner. Uzumaki Kushina is everything that you imagined she would be, and a little more on top of that. She latches onto you with a vigour that surprises even you.
“It’s time for girl talk,” she declares, and drags you away.
“I made you lunch for your shift!” She says proudly, and presses a bento box into your hands.
“Don’t take any nonsense from the boys,” she encourages. “If they don’t listen to you, I’ll beat them up!”
You think she means well. They all do, generally, because unlike you, they are people, and you are a liar. You still can’t stand it.
Sometimes you stand in the kitchen together, breeze from the window blowing through your hair as the pots on the stovetop bubble. Kushina hums faint tunes under her breath, echoey melodies that call to mind the shore and the sea.
Uzumaki Kushina is a tragedy in her own right. She burns so brightly, sometimes it’s hard to remember that she’s still a lost girl with her homeland destroyed and her people annihilated.
“You would have loved it,” she tells you. Her smile is bittersweet but true. “I wish I could have brought you to the Uzushio festivals. There was fishing, sailing, beachcombing competitions… I could have braided your hair and dressed you in all the traditional jewelry. You would have looked adorable!”
Why is she like this? She clearly loves Uzushio, but she loves Konoha just as much. Even though she’ll never become Hokage, it was still her dream once upon a time. Maybe it still is. Kushina should be furious. How can she stand to continue playing along in something instrumental in her own destruction?
It’s enough to make you scream.
Instead, you buy a seashell bracelet from a merchant from Wave. You wear it on your wrist the next time you go over. Look, you want to say. This is what you’ve lost. This is what you’ll never get back.
Kushina’s eyes fix on your wrist immediately. There’s a flicker in her expression – an aching pain – and you can’t help but feel a flash of victory.
And then her arms are around you and her lips are in your hair. “Rin-chan,” she whispers. Her voice is choked but her embrace is warm. It’s burning you alive.
“You’re a kind girl.”
You rip the bracelet apart that very night.
–
Kakashi has his genius and attitude. Obito has his excuses, his dreams and the Uchiha name. Even Kushina has her temper and her chakra chains. Nohara Rin has…
Well, she’s nice. Kind. Sweet.
And that’s about it. Yes, you’re a medic. But it hardly adds anything to your character, does it? And you don’t care about Nohara Rin, not really, but you can’t help but feel that she needs something more.
You need a hobby.
The first seashells come from the scattered remnants of the bracelet, but your collection slowly grows. There are tan-coloured scallop shells, tinged with purple. Brown-striped olives, tiny dotted limpets. You look at the preserved remains of long-gone creatures, and feel something nameless stirring inside yourself.
“Oh, you’re collecting seashells?” Obito comments. He shuffles around your desk to pick up the shiny pink conch, peering inside it inquisitively. “That’s so cool! I didn’t know you did that. Do you like shells, Rin-chan?”
Seashells are funny, you almost say. You can only have them once they’re dead.
But that isn’t something Nohara Rin would say, and you don’t think Obito would appreciate your sense of humour anyway.
“They’re pretty and perfect,” you chirp. “What’s not to like?”
–
You are known for your enthusiasm and diligence. When you request to research more complicated surgical procedures, no one bats an eye. In fact, they congratulate you on your initiative.
The labs are cool and quiet. You have no need for a supervisor – you are a trusted medic, after all. It leaves you room to browse the textbooks and diagrams freely.
“Eye transplants,” a silky voice observes from over your shoulder. “A curious choice of reading material.”
“Can I help you, Orochimaru-san?” You don’t stutter or shake. When you turn around, your smile remains as it always has.
“No.” He says. “Carry on.” The man takes some materials from the far cupboard and brushes past you to exit the lab, black hair streaming out behind him.
Orochimaru. You’d never given him much thought at all, but now here he is, right in front of you. This is a man who has spent his whole life working towards immortality.
And you are a girl slated for death.
If you begged him, would he share his secrets with you? Improbable. He’d be more likely to tear out your mind, limbs splayed across the vivisection table as he carved out your own secrets instead. The image can’t help but tempt you. Maybe if he cut deep enough, you could finally find the you that lurked within.
If there is one at all.
Because life isn’t what you want, not really. You want more than that. You want to exist. You don’t want to mean anything, you just want to be—
Or is that even true? You’re a natural liar, after all. These stories are getting the best of you. Maybe you don’t want anything at all.
Still. It stings.
Nohara Rin is kind. She is good. At least she appears to be.
How laughable that Orochi-fucking-maru gets his happy ending before you.
—
Kakashi is developing a new jutsu. It sets the clearing alight and fills it with the sound of chirping. It has no name as of yet, but this jutsu will never be nameless to you.
Chidori: One Thousand Birds. It’s poetic. It’s beautiful.
You want to tear him limb from limb.
The ugly part that lurks within you is glad that you’ll have the chance to take his pride and ruin it. But for now you’ll have to wait.
When you all sit down to eat lunch, Kakashi brings out a homemade bento box of eggplant and salted fish.
“Ooh,” you say, peering into the box. “That looks so good! You must be a really good cook, Kakashi-kun. Did Sakumo-san teach you?”
Kakashi stiffens.
Good.
“Oh no!” You raise a hand to your mouth. “I’m so sorry, Kakashi! I shouldn’t have brought up your father. I know he’s a sensitive subject, I really didn’t mean to–” You apologize clumsily, as most children do.
“Shut up,” Kakashi snarls.
“Oi!” And there he goes, triggering Obito’s defensive instincts. “Don’t talk to Rin like that! She’s apologizing, Bakakashi! She meant it to be nice, you know.”
You didn’t. You really, really didn’t. You had said it, knowing it was cruel. Because it was cruel.
You hate the world, you hate yourself, you hate your life and everyone in it. If you could burn it all down, you would in an instant.
—
In the week after you make chunin, Obito is waiting for you underneath your tree. It’s a fully grown cherry tree with little pink blossoms coating the dark branches.
“Rin,” Obito starts. He swallows.
There’s a bouquet of flowers clutched behind his back. Something is curdling in your stomach.
“I wanted to tell you something–” He says. His cheeks are bright red.
It feels like he’s killing you. You’d rather he kill you. Instead, you cut in, smile wide and bright.
“I wanted to tell you something too! We need to plan gifts for tomorrow!”
His expression freezes. “G-gifts?”
“That’s right!” You weren’t planning any gifts, but you are now. “Kakashi just became a jounin, you know.”
“…Kakashi?”
You nod enthusiastically. “Mm hm. Isn’t it amazing? We need to get him something to congratulate him!”
Obito’s tone turns surly. There’s something circling in his eyes that looks a lot like hurt. “Do we really have to get him gifts?”
Your smile brightens even more. Your lips are starting to hurt. “Come on,” you chide. “As his teammates, we should be proud of him! It’s an incredible accomplishment, making jounin at only eleven.” Your voice becomes slightly breathy. “Kakashi really is brilliant, isn’t he?”
Behind Obito’s back, the roses drop to the ground.
You really are a terrible person.
—
It’s windy on the night you make camp. Not full gales and shaking tree branches, but enough breeze to blow your hair back and send the tall grasses stirring in the fields.
“We’ll split in the morning,” Minato says. He’s stretched out between the thick roots of a tree, back to the trunk and posture relaxed. “Remember that Kakashi’s in charge of this mission. I know that I can count on you all! I’ll meet back up with you once I’m finished.”
He won’t, but he doesn’t know that.
Tomorrow morning is when he will depart to commit the deed that will earn him his name. A thousand people dead, just like that. Their only purpose to serve as testament to his skill.
Your time is coming soon too. And then you’ll no longer exist, not that you ever existed. Your name will only be spoken in nightmares. Your sole legacy will be the phantom blood frantically washed from Kakashi’s trembling hands.
And you hate it hate it hate it hate it—
You tip your head back and the tapestry of stars stretches out above you. They’re shining and they’re beautiful, but to you that’s all they are. They don’t mean anything more than that. Simple, and present, and still there even if no one’s looking.
They’re stars. And that’s how they’ll remain.
Oh, how you’d love to join them.
—
There is a shinobi watching you from the trees.
Kakashi and Obito are fighting, and arguing, and arguing more than they’re fighting, to be perfectly honest. Their voices pound into your skull, and you think you really will kill them both if you remain, so you leave. Just far enough to the edge of the marsh where you can still see them, but their voices aren’t quite as grating.
And there is a shinobi watching you.
In the instant between when your eyes meet and when he starts to move, you’re presented with a choice.
You see, you could fight. You’re no front-line fighter, but neither are you completely incapable. You made chunin just like everyone else, and besides that, your techniques and resourcefulness aren’t half bad. You certainly have the hatred for it.
They intend to kidnap you. For what reason, you don’t even know. Is there a reason at all? Or is it simply to keep Obito’s supposed death on track, an endless path of the meaningless suffering you’ll undergo that doesn’t even belong to you.
You want something to be yours. If anything at all should be yours, you at least deserve your own death.
When the shinobi comes for you, you don’t fight. Instead, you hope against hope that they can finally grant you what’s rightfully yours.
–
Obito’s blood is thick on your hands, and his eyeball peers back at you from behind its new place nestled inside Kakashi’s socket. You’ve seen it and imagined it coming true a million times before, but it still reads as wrong even if the transplant is flawless.
You really did do a good job. You silently congratulate yourself. Kami knows neither of them will.
You wipe your hands off neatly as Obito gestures for Kakashi to lean in. This is the end of his first arc, then. The Uchiha Obito you know will be no more. And you won’t ever see him again, will you?
At least you hope not.
But Obito has been with you for years. You stare at his half-mangled body and try to muster up something. If you are Kakashi’s, then you are also Obito’s. And maybe, in some small way, Obito is yours as well.
No. He’s Nohara Rin’s.
Or at least this version of him is. But still. There are tears streaming down your cheeks, and you wonder why you can only feel relief.
There must be something though. There must be. Obito finishes speaking with Kakashi, and you wait, expectant.
Maybe you mean something to him besides the role you’re meant to play. Maybe there’s a chance he’ll have something to tell you and you alone. That he sees you for real.
You wait, and you wait.
The rocks are crumbling down. Obito smiles, and it’s bittersweet. Just like everything, it’s aimed at Kakashi.
You wait.
Overtop of you, the cave is collapsing.
“We have to move,” Kakashi hisses.
You wait—
Kakashi drags you out of the cave, and you’re still waiting on his answer.
—
“You have to leave,” Kakashi orders, and he’s right. You’re injured, and your head is spinning. Kakashi is injured too. There’s no way both of you can defend yourself, let alone defeat the team of Iwa nin left.
But you don’t want to leave, so you say, “no,” and plant your feet, and refuse to move.
You hope they kill you. You hope they kill you all.
Kakashi’s gaze is intense. His mismatched eyes drill themselves into your soul. “Rin, I promised Obito that I would look after you. He gave his life for you – he loved you. Escape now and let me keep my promise.”
And of course he did. Something ignites in your stomach, twisting dark rage. Obito, making you into something again. A promise, this time. One that only exists for the guilt of Kakashi breaking it. Why bother mentioning you to Kakashi at all when he couldn’t even tell you goodbye?
Your head is throbbing. An unstable pulsation to go along with the pounding of your heart.
You open your mouth. You blurt, “then Kakashi, you need to know my feelings for you too–”
He’s looking away from you now, but you can still see the subtle flinch in his shoulders. “I tried to abandon you. I’m nothing but scum.”
I don’t care, you want to scream, and none of it matters. I don’t matter and you don’t care!
He turns back around. His hand is alight with crackling sparks. “Rin, go!”
If you asked nicely enough, would Kakashi let you rip his heart out first?
—
The wilted flowers are still sitting at the base of the memorial stone when you come back. The bouquet is old and sagging, scattered leaves and browning petals. Kakashi is still there too, slumped posture and focusless gaze as he stares into the distance. You approach, more flowers held in your arms, and stop a little ways away.
“You should get some rest,” you say softly. “Don’t you have a mission tomorrow?”
He doesn’t answer for a long moment. “…Yes.”
“Then go home, Kakashi. It will still be waiting for you tomorrow.”
For tomorrow, for eternity, for a hundred years of Kakashi’s personal mourning. The memorial stone has countless names inscribed, but at the heart of it, it really is just Kakashi’s, isn’t it? Just like all things are.
He gives a short, stoic nod, before turning. “I will. Thank you, Rin.”
“Don’t thank me,” you say. You intend for it to come out light, a gentle admonishment. But something else must creep into your tone, because Kakashi pauses, head tilting towards you.
“...Are you alright?” His voice is awkward.
You press your lips into yet another smile. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”
“Obito was your friend.”
That’s right, you almost say. He was mine, and you didn’t even like him. Why do you get to mourn him like this?
“Obito wouldn’t want to see you like this,” you say instead, even if it’s completely untrue. Obito had probably been spitefully pleased to see Kakashi mourning for all those years as he stalked him from the trees.
You and spite are good friends. You’re perfectly familiar with that twisting bitterness that’s constantly simmering in your own gut. No, you don’t begrudge him that. The reason why you want to rip his arms off is because it’s for all the wrong reasons.
“Ah,” Kakashi says. He doesn’t say anything else.
This is wrong. This is wrong. He’s not allowed to do this. In your mind’s eye, you see him standing here for the years and years to come, and your fury suddenly spikes.
“You’re not allowed to mourn me.”
Because isn’t this stupid? Isn’t this pathetic? In weeks, you’ll be gone. Kushina and Minato, Obito and Kakashi… They’ll be the only ones to remember you. Then, just Obito and Kakashi. And then just Kakashi.
And he’ll do it wrong. Because he never knew you at all, none of them do. And you can’t do anything, and it’s all useless, and no one even cares.
“When I die,” you tell Kakashi, “you’re not allowed to stand here at this rock and be sad about it.”
“You’re not going to die,” Kakashi retorts, even if that’s a completely ludicrous thing to say. “I promised I’d look after you.”
“Promise me.”
He looks you in the eyes for a moment, and you’re not sure what he sees, but whatever it is, it’s enough to make him back down. He swallows. Nods. “Okay. I promise.”
You try to soften your tone. Shape yourself back into Nohara Rin. But you feel too raw and wretched. “I’m going to die, and I don’t want you to be sad. It’s–” It’s not about you. “Don’t mourn me. Don’t– don’t make it mean anything.” And you’re being honest for the first time in your life. “I don’t want it to matter, and I don’t want you to remember me.”
Kakashi’s face looks vividly pale in the dying light. “I… can’t promise you that. You matter, Rin. You mean something to me. I’m not just going to forget you.”
You bow your head as it all rushes up again, agony and resignation, that hopeless futility that claws apart your throat. You tried to make him see, you tried, but he still just won’t–
Your lips push back into their smile. It’s the only thing you have left.
“...I know.”
–
Kakashi is a tiny blur in a sea of enemies, but that crackling white light keeps him perfectly visible.
You know what you have to do.
This is your moment. Or it’s Kakashi’s moment, Obito’s even, but you still get to star, for once. The only time you ever will.
Or… do you have to?
For a single second, you question yourself. Minato is a seal master. And being a jinchuuriki isn’t an immediate death sentence, not yet, not when there’s still time. You could wait. He could save you. Surely, he could.
He would save Nohara Rin.
And you see that future stretching out before you, that endless cage of falsehoods and roles. Kakashi doesn’t see you; Obito won’t see anything else. You’d live like this forever, trapped in a play with your paper-thin part.
You think you’d rather die.
You know you’d rather die, because this is what you were made for. If you mean anything at all, it’s for this.
You hate it, but it’s true. You hate it and you want to kill yourself. You hate everything and everyone, and you hate Hatake Kakashi most of all.
Kakashi is flagging. The beast in your head is roaring.
The lightning crackles.
When the time finally comes, you act as you were always meant to.