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Obito takes Kakashi's hand at his chest, crewing closer, the distance turning futile. He felt Kakashi's breath getting heavier, faster. Memories coming back to him, and Obito would lie if he told him he didn’t care, because he needed to see his eyes and as he is sure of his misery, he knew that's why he needed to complete his plan.
there's nothing in his chest, there's nothing in this hell of a world to be cared about, useless feelings, a baggage to be thrown out, as Shinobis were meant to be.
And wasn't that so fucked?
He hated this world because he loved it so much, and because he loved, the love would always eventually turn into hate, to decay and rot and to be nothing more than just blood on a battlefield.
He closed more and more the distance between him and Kakashi, he should understand, he knew he would eventually come back to his senses, because he didn’t know anyone who would understand him better now. Because Kakashi Hatake was the only one who could understand this better than anyone.
Didn’t this mean he was wrong? Because he seemed to be so determined in stopping Obito?
Was this a mistake?
It was too late to think about that.
In this lands, any ground can be a cemetery, any dirt can be put above corpses and rot. Any stick can be used as a grave. He knew that even before his own mind processed what it really meant. Death was nothing more than a causality.
But.
"If I were to die by a hand, I hoped it would be yours.
"The feeling is mutual, you know."
Because Kakashi knew, deep down, that he wanted to give up to that opportunity. Something so deep as his death to be marked by someone so important to him, that’s unique.
But he knew too, that he too should not be too selfish, he too should give that opportunity to Obito, a beautiful destiny both of them marked upon one another. Destiny was graceful in its way, not carved upon stone by someone who would never be part of it. No, it was done by the ones who were part of its history. Obito Uchiha and Kakashi Hatake knew that well, they made this themselves, their connection didn’t start by the moment they were born. They made their ways into each other by their own hands, the moment they decided see the other, to be rivals, to sacrifice themselves to one another.
A soulmate was marked upon fate's delicate fingers, written in a silk paper and fragile as if to turn to dust at any moment, but destiny was carved, build with stone and calloused hands by the one's determined to decide what their history should be, and they decided that one and another would be part of this.
That’s why, even twenty years apart, they still felt just like the same kids they were. They still couldn’t see each others as strangers. But at the same time, couldn’t recognize each other.
Kakashi saw flickers of Obito in this strange man. But the strange man was who robbed Obito of his future, who was staining the image of the hero Kakashi knew and devoted his life to, he wouldn’t let this happen, he couldn't let this happen and yet his body seemed to betray him.
He seemed tore apart by one half that wouldn't hurt and leave his comrades at any circumstances — the same half that was made by his father, burned, and that Obito brought back. —
And a half that couldn’t let this man stain the memory of Obito, that knew the most kind thing he could do was to make him fall upon death.
Ironic, because his whole self seemed made by Obito's hands, regardless of what he chose.