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Fandom The Eclipse Seal (itliveswithin & Graverobber141)
- Thread starter roxybirdie
- Start date
Graverobber141
[Insert Clever Line Here]
Three Hours Earlier
The only sound made as Raiden descended from the tree came seconds after it was too late. His katana was already drawn from its saya, held in his left hand with practiced precision. The grove within its blade made the metal howl as it slung through air, only sparking to life with white lightning a heartbeat before it made contact with flesh. Digging first into the creature’s shoulder, as its wielder landed on the ground, and then forced through, quite easily, to effectively cut its target in half.
He did not smell blood. The liquid that sprayed on his uniform and across his mask was not crimson, but thick, murky, and colorless. Like water. Its odor was foul, but more so akin to fungus. These things were labeled and kept for further examination, before the Uchiha turned on his heel, and observed the man the thing he just killed had been chasing.
“Keep running.” It wasn’t a threat. A warning, perhaps, but more so because he was about to be caught in the crossfire.
Sharingan spinning dully, the black bled into his irises, morphing the three tomoes into a pattern resembling a windmill shuriken. He looked toward the approaching army of those unnatural beings, eyes narrowing, a string of his own blood staining his cheek, and watched as they were engulfed in a crawling, dense mist crafted from shadows.
He was gone a moment later, wakizashi drawn, both blades laced with lightning. The only sounds coming from the fog was sword wind, electricity, and the thump of falling bodies.
*
By the time Raiden took his mask off, the blood under his eye was dry, forming a long, crimson, crusted line down his cheek and ending at the edge of his jaw. Peering into the dark waters of the river, at a reflection cast by moonlight, his mouth twitched, and laying the visage of a hawk down by his feet, he washed the stain from his face while listening to the crackle of a campfire behind him.
They had traveled hard the past hours, wanting to put distance between them and any possible followers. Raiden wanted to push toward Konoha, mostly to drop off their tag-along to go back into enemy territory to finish the original mission, but it was the extra precense that slowed them down. Whatever this Uchiha, Obito, had gone through significantly damaged his body. He needed medical attention, and though a supposed ally, Raiden wasn’t keen on dragging him back home.
Not after seeing what he was running from, and the unknown extent of what those creatures where.
Wind tossed the overhanging branches, making the leaves rustle, and brought with it the smell of smoke and cooking fish. Though used to not eating for long periods of time, it was enough to make his dry mouth wet with anticipation. Quick to refill the water gourds, the ravenette stood, eyes settling on a set of wings in the distance — a hawk released with an encoded and genjutsu-trapped message — before he placed the mask back on, and returned to the fire.
The dancing flames cast vibrant shadows at his feet, an omen as its root stood tall underneath trees. Body posture rigid. Arms deliberately uncrossed, and his left fingers curled around the fabric of his obi. His sharingan spun lazily within the mask’s holes, observing a certain silver-haired outcast with the same vigilance known to the bird of prey his ANBU identity was carved from.
Waiting.
Patience was not something Raiden was born with. In fact, the very idea of inaction made his blood boil, but he had learned to control his natural urgency.
“Typical Uchiha — not very friendly,” Obito muttered, though his voice was a bit too harsh for joking. In fact, he seemed wary ever since he caught glimpse of the other’s face, and the underlying mistrust was two-sided.
Raiden didn’t comment. Taking a step forward, he placed the refilled gourd at the refugee’s side in offering, before retreating back a step. As soon as they had stopped running, Obito had drained the nourishment like he hadn’t drank in days.
That was minutes ago.
Anytime now.
“What did you...do...to get stuck...” Obito’s words were spaced out, his eyelids fluttering. He stopped, as if trying to remember what he was going to say, and by the expression of anger strewn across his face, he realized what had happened, yet only had time for a flash of a red glare, before he slumped against the tree, motionless.
Being saddled with Byakuran as a genin did come with certain advantages. The poison wasn’t anything elaborate, but a mostly tasteless and odorless mixture concocted to knockout whoever drank it for a few hours. And now that he was taken care of —
Raiden’s chin tilted, crimson irises studying the movements of the other Uchiha to make sure he really was unconscious, before moving to focus on the half-breed. His mask didn’t matter; behind it, his face was as unmoving and firm as the carved and painted wood.
“Kakashi.” While ever hardly friendly, his tone was specifically hostile, challenging. And the man lacked the necessary social skills, a little bit of upbringing to blame alongside choice, to voice his suspicions with more care. “This wasn’t the first time you fought those creatures.”
More waiting. Sharingan circling, the tomoes traced a relaxed pattern around red irises, yet the eyes couldn’t be taken as anything less than a threat. He could see everything: the rise and fall of each breath down to timing, detecting even the smallest delay, the slightest tremor of a muscle, twitching of a finger, turn of an expression. Indicators of falsehood, and denied the truth, he wasn’t afraid to search for it forcibly.
roxybirdie
𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐨𝐤𝐢 😸
THREE HOURS EARLIER, TEN MINUTES PRIOR
It was late afternoon, a few hours before dusk. North of Hi no Kuni, near the southwestern border connecting to Taki no Kuni, a pair of dark blips flitted through the tall trees. Despite their impeccable agility, bone white ceramic masks identified the flashing shadows: ANBU. The Land of Fire's immense forest terrains tapered near borderlines; the receding tree lines signified the invisible borders separating Hi no Kuni from its neighboring countries. As the team infiltrated Taki no Kuni, a sudden (and vicious) wave of unadulterated hatred washed over the silver-haired operative donning a wild hound veneer. His breath hitched, as if all the oxygen was ripped from his lungs. Caught off guard, ANBU Ryōken missed the upcoming branch. However, his instincts — honed from two world wars, including his previous stint in the black ops — immediately kicked in. He flipped, landing on a lower branch.
It was here.
For a moment, his mission objective was forgotten. Five years. ANBU Ryōken surveyed the sparse clearing, eyes razor sharp. Beneath his painted veneer, his charcoal gaze bled a brilliant crimson. Five kamidamn years. Once his vision sharpened, he searched for the disgusting parasite. Five years was long enough. Suddenly, the bushes near his tree rustled. Without a word, ANBU Ryōken lowered his center of gravity, ready to pounce on the vile entity. His fingertips crackled with violet chakra. Five kamiforsaken years since he awakened in a new ti—
It wasn't the parasite that emerged from the bushes.
His Sharingan instinctively deactivated. "Obito," he breathed.
THREE HOURS EARLIER, TEN MINUTES LATER
Within the clearing, two colossal wolves comprised of pure violet lightning chakra lunged toward a trio of unnatural creatures; stark white humanoids with spinous texture skin, olive green hair, and sulphuric eyes. Thin chakra strands tethered the raiton beasts to its creator, following the pack alpha's commands with a single flick of his fingers. As the wolves herded the foul entities closer, ANBU Ryōken unsheathed his katana — all ANBU operatives are equipped (and trained) with a sword of their choosing; it was mandatory — from the saya strapped on his back and vanished. With a timely shunshin, the silver-haired man ripped the entities apart with his chakra-conductive blade. Translucent ichor splattered against his dark charcoal cloak and ceramic mask. His katana crackled with violet chakra, a low hum emanating from the curved sword. Without warning, ANBU Ryōken whirled around and decapitated a creature who appeared behind him like a merciless specter. Once the solid clone collapsed, his chakra beasts dove and ripped the entity apart.
"Four down," he thought. Charcoal eyes swept across the glade. "One to go." He flicked his blade, banishing the revolting liquid tarnishing his sword. As the malleable entity merged with the ground, ANBU Ryōken adjusted his grip and plunged his katana into the ground. Suddenly, the soil flashed a brilliant amethyst. With a burst of raiton release, the ground ripped open and fissured violently. A shockwave shot forward, forcing the entity to surface. He raised his sword and leaped forward, parrying the creature's vicious claws with his unyielding blade.
Despite the fire coursing through his veins, Kakashi refrained from activating the Uchiha clan's — his clan's — prized dōjutsu.
PRESENT
"You're a Hatake, a hoarse voice muttered.
While he removed his ANBU mask to wipe away the remnants of ichor clinging to the painted bone white surface, a cloth mask obscured his features. However, his moonlight skin and unruly quicksilver hair signified his Hatake blood. Truthfully, his ANBU mask was a formality; it wasn't designed to conceal his clan features. "Apt observation," Kakashi drawled. Once his ANBU veneer was spotless, the silver-haired operative threw a soiled rag in the fire pit and secured his mask over his face; a thin stream of chakra tethered the ceramic surface to his cloth mask.
He frowned at the wry tone. "Thought the White Fang was the last Hatake," Obito grumbled.
Kakashi hummed. "You're not the first to make that misconception," he supplied neutrally. He directed his attention to the campfire. Kakashi rotated the speared fish over a makeshift grill positioned above the fire pit, watching the flames lick at the fresh meat. Shadows danced along his ceramic mask; a canine visage emblazoned with bold crimson strokes.
What now?
Six months passed since Kakashi enlisted in the ANBU Black Ops. Team Alpha's taichō — a part of Kakashi wanted to laugh; he joined the same team before he ascended to taichō and founded Team Ro — assigned Raiden and him to an A-Rank covert mission in Tsuchi no Kuni. It was a two-man mission objective and Kuma-taichō — all ANBU operatives are referred to by their aliases — selected them based on their individual strengths and performance reviews. After five hours of intense trekking, nightfall swept over the land. Kakashi and Raiden should be deep in Tsuchi territory. However, an unforeseen turn of events forced the ANBU operatives to retreat.
What happened now?
When Kakashi joined the ANBU, he vowed to locate and destroy the vile parasite; if the elusive monster evaded his clutches, Kakashi would inhibit the foul entity's influence over the war (as much as possible) until he completed his divine mission. For the first time in six months — five kamidamn years — the eldritch being surfaced in the form of a large horde of White Zetsu clones. Once Kakashi recognized Obito, he initially deduced his former teammate was leading the parasitic clones. However, once he recovered from his momentary stupor, it was the complete opposite; Obito fled from the foul creatures. It shouldn't be possible; it took the Fourth Shinobi World War (and a certain knuckle-headed blonde) to thoroughly shatter the parasite's control over his old teammate.
Maa, in retrospect, did it matter since he awakened in a parallel dimension?
A few minutes later, Raiden returned from the stream. As his ANBU partner approached the Uchiha refugee — it took every ounce of shinobi conditioning to compartmentalize his inner turmoil and maintain an indifferent façade — Kakashi removed the speared fish from the makeshift grill. Once Raiden administered a sedative — his hackles immediately raised, but he suppressed his instinctive growl; Obito wasn't the Obito he knew — the silver-haired halfbreed placed the roasted fish (cooked to perfection) on a log and stood. While his heart clenched to a painful degree — Obito is safe — not a hint of his turbulent emotions escaped his ironclad façade. Ignoring his partner, Kakashi approached the unconscious Uchiha and crouched next to his slumped form. He raised his arm and his right hand illuminated a soothing green. The half-Hatake wasn't a certified Iryō-nin, but he could activate Shōsen and perform basic techniques. Despite his refined chakra control — sharper than his previous control — his chakra remained too destructive to accomplish anything beyond diagnostic techniques and simple healing. To be frank, Kakashi preferred (and relied on) non-chakra medical techniques.
Rin was a competent teacher.
He waved his palm over Obito's face and swept it down the ravenette's frontside, assessing the extensive damage. While his diagnostic jutsu wasn't designed to pinpoint severe injuries, it granted him a baseline. "Deep tissue scarring, more than my jutsu can detect," he thought. Kakashi raised his gaze. "Blunt force trauma to the back of his cranium. Potential concussion unknown." He directed his attention to his old teammate's torso. "Signs of fractures on his true ribs; left side." The silver-haired operative waved his hand over Obito's right arm and repeated the process to his left. "Abnormal discoloration on his right side—" Suddenly, his mental evaluation was disrupted,
"This wasn’t the first time you fought those creatures."
His luminescent palm hovered above the refugee's left forearm. From the corner of his eye, Kakashi felt his teammate's intense crimson gaze. Despite the matured Sharingan drilling holes in his skull — waiting for a single indication of falsehood — he remained unperturbed. "It wasn't," Kakashi confirmed. Experience taught him how to twist conversations in his favor; Kakashi could maneuver through the Sharingan's safeguards with well-versed half-truths and lies of omission. However, considering his earlier (absolutely vicious) performance, denying the truth was pointless. On the other hand, it didn't mean he had to elaborate; if the prickly Uchiha wanted answers, he had to specify. Without another word, Kakashi lowered his hand and focused on Obito's legs. "No fractures detected on the surface level." A few minutes later, he completed his brief diagnostic overview. Kakashi could stabilize his old teammate for transport, but the unconscious Uchiha required professional medical attention; more than medicinal pastes and heavy bandages.
It was late afternoon, a few hours before dusk. North of Hi no Kuni, near the southwestern border connecting to Taki no Kuni, a pair of dark blips flitted through the tall trees. Despite their impeccable agility, bone white ceramic masks identified the flashing shadows: ANBU. The Land of Fire's immense forest terrains tapered near borderlines; the receding tree lines signified the invisible borders separating Hi no Kuni from its neighboring countries. As the team infiltrated Taki no Kuni, a sudden (and vicious) wave of unadulterated hatred washed over the silver-haired operative donning a wild hound veneer. His breath hitched, as if all the oxygen was ripped from his lungs. Caught off guard, ANBU Ryōken missed the upcoming branch. However, his instincts — honed from two world wars, including his previous stint in the black ops — immediately kicked in. He flipped, landing on a lower branch.
It was here.
For a moment, his mission objective was forgotten. Five years. ANBU Ryōken surveyed the sparse clearing, eyes razor sharp. Beneath his painted veneer, his charcoal gaze bled a brilliant crimson. Five kamidamn years. Once his vision sharpened, he searched for the disgusting parasite. Five years was long enough. Suddenly, the bushes near his tree rustled. Without a word, ANBU Ryōken lowered his center of gravity, ready to pounce on the vile entity. His fingertips crackled with violet chakra. Five kamiforsaken years since he awakened in a new ti—
It wasn't the parasite that emerged from the bushes.
His Sharingan instinctively deactivated. "Obito," he breathed.
━━━━━♥ ♠ ♣ ♦━━━━━
THREE HOURS EARLIER, TEN MINUTES LATER
Within the clearing, two colossal wolves comprised of pure violet lightning chakra lunged toward a trio of unnatural creatures; stark white humanoids with spinous texture skin, olive green hair, and sulphuric eyes. Thin chakra strands tethered the raiton beasts to its creator, following the pack alpha's commands with a single flick of his fingers. As the wolves herded the foul entities closer, ANBU Ryōken unsheathed his katana — all ANBU operatives are equipped (and trained) with a sword of their choosing; it was mandatory — from the saya strapped on his back and vanished. With a timely shunshin, the silver-haired man ripped the entities apart with his chakra-conductive blade. Translucent ichor splattered against his dark charcoal cloak and ceramic mask. His katana crackled with violet chakra, a low hum emanating from the curved sword. Without warning, ANBU Ryōken whirled around and decapitated a creature who appeared behind him like a merciless specter. Once the solid clone collapsed, his chakra beasts dove and ripped the entity apart.
"Four down," he thought. Charcoal eyes swept across the glade. "One to go." He flicked his blade, banishing the revolting liquid tarnishing his sword. As the malleable entity merged with the ground, ANBU Ryōken adjusted his grip and plunged his katana into the ground. Suddenly, the soil flashed a brilliant amethyst. With a burst of raiton release, the ground ripped open and fissured violently. A shockwave shot forward, forcing the entity to surface. He raised his sword and leaped forward, parrying the creature's vicious claws with his unyielding blade.
Despite the fire coursing through his veins, Kakashi refrained from activating the Uchiha clan's — his clan's — prized dōjutsu.
━━━━━♥ ♠ ♣ ♦━━━━━
PRESENT
"You're a Hatake, a hoarse voice muttered.
While he removed his ANBU mask to wipe away the remnants of ichor clinging to the painted bone white surface, a cloth mask obscured his features. However, his moonlight skin and unruly quicksilver hair signified his Hatake blood. Truthfully, his ANBU mask was a formality; it wasn't designed to conceal his clan features. "Apt observation," Kakashi drawled. Once his ANBU veneer was spotless, the silver-haired operative threw a soiled rag in the fire pit and secured his mask over his face; a thin stream of chakra tethered the ceramic surface to his cloth mask.
He frowned at the wry tone. "Thought the White Fang was the last Hatake," Obito grumbled.
Kakashi hummed. "You're not the first to make that misconception," he supplied neutrally. He directed his attention to the campfire. Kakashi rotated the speared fish over a makeshift grill positioned above the fire pit, watching the flames lick at the fresh meat. Shadows danced along his ceramic mask; a canine visage emblazoned with bold crimson strokes.
What now?
Six months passed since Kakashi enlisted in the ANBU Black Ops. Team Alpha's taichō — a part of Kakashi wanted to laugh; he joined the same team before he ascended to taichō and founded Team Ro — assigned Raiden and him to an A-Rank covert mission in Tsuchi no Kuni. It was a two-man mission objective and Kuma-taichō — all ANBU operatives are referred to by their aliases — selected them based on their individual strengths and performance reviews. After five hours of intense trekking, nightfall swept over the land. Kakashi and Raiden should be deep in Tsuchi territory. However, an unforeseen turn of events forced the ANBU operatives to retreat.
What happened now?
When Kakashi joined the ANBU, he vowed to locate and destroy the vile parasite; if the elusive monster evaded his clutches, Kakashi would inhibit the foul entity's influence over the war (as much as possible) until he completed his divine mission. For the first time in six months — five kamidamn years — the eldritch being surfaced in the form of a large horde of White Zetsu clones. Once Kakashi recognized Obito, he initially deduced his former teammate was leading the parasitic clones. However, once he recovered from his momentary stupor, it was the complete opposite; Obito fled from the foul creatures. It shouldn't be possible; it took the Fourth Shinobi World War (and a certain knuckle-headed blonde) to thoroughly shatter the parasite's control over his old teammate.
Maa, in retrospect, did it matter since he awakened in a parallel dimension?
A few minutes later, Raiden returned from the stream. As his ANBU partner approached the Uchiha refugee — it took every ounce of shinobi conditioning to compartmentalize his inner turmoil and maintain an indifferent façade — Kakashi removed the speared fish from the makeshift grill. Once Raiden administered a sedative — his hackles immediately raised, but he suppressed his instinctive growl; Obito wasn't the Obito he knew — the silver-haired halfbreed placed the roasted fish (cooked to perfection) on a log and stood. While his heart clenched to a painful degree — Obito is safe — not a hint of his turbulent emotions escaped his ironclad façade. Ignoring his partner, Kakashi approached the unconscious Uchiha and crouched next to his slumped form. He raised his arm and his right hand illuminated a soothing green. The half-Hatake wasn't a certified Iryō-nin, but he could activate Shōsen and perform basic techniques. Despite his refined chakra control — sharper than his previous control — his chakra remained too destructive to accomplish anything beyond diagnostic techniques and simple healing. To be frank, Kakashi preferred (and relied on) non-chakra medical techniques.
Rin was a competent teacher.
He waved his palm over Obito's face and swept it down the ravenette's frontside, assessing the extensive damage. While his diagnostic jutsu wasn't designed to pinpoint severe injuries, it granted him a baseline. "Deep tissue scarring, more than my jutsu can detect," he thought. Kakashi raised his gaze. "Blunt force trauma to the back of his cranium. Potential concussion unknown." He directed his attention to his old teammate's torso. "Signs of fractures on his true ribs; left side." The silver-haired operative waved his hand over Obito's right arm and repeated the process to his left. "Abnormal discoloration on his right side—" Suddenly, his mental evaluation was disrupted,
"This wasn’t the first time you fought those creatures."
His luminescent palm hovered above the refugee's left forearm. From the corner of his eye, Kakashi felt his teammate's intense crimson gaze. Despite the matured Sharingan drilling holes in his skull — waiting for a single indication of falsehood — he remained unperturbed. "It wasn't," Kakashi confirmed. Experience taught him how to twist conversations in his favor; Kakashi could maneuver through the Sharingan's safeguards with well-versed half-truths and lies of omission. However, considering his earlier (absolutely vicious) performance, denying the truth was pointless. On the other hand, it didn't mean he had to elaborate; if the prickly Uchiha wanted answers, he had to specify. Without another word, Kakashi lowered his hand and focused on Obito's legs. "No fractures detected on the surface level." A few minutes later, he completed his brief diagnostic overview. Kakashi could stabilize his old teammate for transport, but the unconscious Uchiha required professional medical attention; more than medicinal pastes and heavy bandages.
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Graverobber141
[Insert Clever Line Here]
The bared back, coated by dancing shadows from the flickering flames of their campfire, made Raiden’s instincts stir. With the uncertainty inching up his spine, he couldn’t help but note how easily it would be to draw his katana and strike before the half-breed could even react. The thought resonated underneath the undefined protectiveness he felt over the mutt — a stray he took some unspoken responsibility for, because of the resentment they shared from the clan they were supposed to belong within — but such fleeting feeling could be washed away with his purpose realized. He guarded through destruction, and if the hound threatened his home, he would do what he had to.
Raiden’s fingers twitched, wrapping more firmly around the obi holding his swords to his waist, enough to turn his knuckles white from the skin splayed taut over bone.
The turned back could be a sign of trust. Or an insult. The doubt made his hackles raise, and Kakashi, in his irritating way that made blood boil within Raiden’s veins, danced around the issue at hand with twisted, useless words. Dismissive. Insolent. Testing a thin line of patience he either didn’t know the extent of, or simply didn’t care about its existence.
He drew his katana in a soundless, quick motion hard to follow with normal eyes. One moment, the blade was in its saya. The next, within the Uchiha’s left hand. The breath that followed, it was brought forward. The air sparked with lightning chakra. Not enough to make the blade more brilliant — reflecting moonlight, orange flickers of fire, and the crimson glare of its wielder — but enough that his other teammate, Kotori, could have effortlessly picked up his agitation. It was stabbed through the dirt next to the kneeled Kakashi, a heartbeat away, so close he could have felt the movement through the shifting of air as it descended.
”A stray mutt found outside my home,” Raiden began with his hand still resting on the hilt, looming in Kakashi’s shadow. His voice was low and calm, but underlined with the threat of a storm. ”He was accepted within the walls, because he smelled like one of us.”
The sword was left, his hand removed. It stood as an omen before Obito, edge facing its owner. Withdrawing so he was disarmed, though notably still possessing his wakizashi, Raiden circled around his fellow ANBU operative, until he was on his other side, facing the half-breed. Crimson revolved in his irises, the tomoes spinning dully, only occasionally increasing in speed.
He was watching. Ever impatient, ever observant
”And now we fight things together — some non-human parasites whose extent of their existence and capability for reproduction threatens my home, and the mutt acts strange around these spawns, fighting fiercer then I’ve ever seen, like a cornered animal. And then he admits to having fought them before.”
The mask hid the vicious smile that sprawled upon his lips, as sharp as the blades he carried.
”I want to know all you know, and how you know it.”
Raiden’s fingers twitched, wrapping more firmly around the obi holding his swords to his waist, enough to turn his knuckles white from the skin splayed taut over bone.
The turned back could be a sign of trust. Or an insult. The doubt made his hackles raise, and Kakashi, in his irritating way that made blood boil within Raiden’s veins, danced around the issue at hand with twisted, useless words. Dismissive. Insolent. Testing a thin line of patience he either didn’t know the extent of, or simply didn’t care about its existence.
He drew his katana in a soundless, quick motion hard to follow with normal eyes. One moment, the blade was in its saya. The next, within the Uchiha’s left hand. The breath that followed, it was brought forward. The air sparked with lightning chakra. Not enough to make the blade more brilliant — reflecting moonlight, orange flickers of fire, and the crimson glare of its wielder — but enough that his other teammate, Kotori, could have effortlessly picked up his agitation. It was stabbed through the dirt next to the kneeled Kakashi, a heartbeat away, so close he could have felt the movement through the shifting of air as it descended.
”A stray mutt found outside my home,” Raiden began with his hand still resting on the hilt, looming in Kakashi’s shadow. His voice was low and calm, but underlined with the threat of a storm. ”He was accepted within the walls, because he smelled like one of us.”
The sword was left, his hand removed. It stood as an omen before Obito, edge facing its owner. Withdrawing so he was disarmed, though notably still possessing his wakizashi, Raiden circled around his fellow ANBU operative, until he was on his other side, facing the half-breed. Crimson revolved in his irises, the tomoes spinning dully, only occasionally increasing in speed.
He was watching. Ever impatient, ever observant
”And now we fight things together — some non-human parasites whose extent of their existence and capability for reproduction threatens my home, and the mutt acts strange around these spawns, fighting fiercer then I’ve ever seen, like a cornered animal. And then he admits to having fought them before.”
The mask hid the vicious smile that sprawled upon his lips, as sharp as the blades he carried.
”I want to know all you know, and how you know it.”
roxybirdie
𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐨𝐤𝐢 😸
Oh, Kakashi was aware. With his back turned, it was simultaneously a sign of implicit trust — a bond born from bloodshed and camaraderie — or foolish arrogance; a death wish. Despite the contrasting suppositions, it was neither. To be frank, Kakashi bit the kunai and focused on examining his — not his Obito, but his, nonetheless — half-brother. It was without a doubt a dangerous wager and his dismissive (and unmistakably truthful) answer merely encouraged the inevitable confrontation. His hypersensitive nose — even when regulated with the scent-dampening seal stitched on his cloth mask — detected the overwhelming uncertainty, wariness, and danger radiating from the masked Uchiha currently drilling holes in the back of his skull.
A stray mutt found outside my home. Uchiha Raiden's scent reminded Kakashi of a violent firestorm imprisoned in a thick veil of mist; the scorching wrath of unimaginable power — an unforgiving heat spreading like wildfire — with a distinct hint of rain. He was accepted within the walls, because he smelled like one of us. Until he met Raiden, Kakashi never encountered an Uchiha — his most troublesome student may have wielded raiton, but his inner fire raged like a true Uchiha — with flames as volatile as lightning; it was akin to a raging inferno infused with electricity. And now we fight things together— All the sudden, the hairs on the back of his neck stood. —some non-human parasites whose extent of their existence and capability for reproduction threatens my home, and the mutt acts strange around these spawns, fighting fiercer then I’ve ever seen, like a cornered animal. With a menacing slink, a curved blade penetrated the ground; inches from his left flank. Kakashi could taste the crackling energy permeating the air. And then he admits to having fought them before. While his own chakra — as sharp and unyielding as the Mountain Thunder Wolves of Raizan — threatened to rise and meet the unspoken challenge, he suppressed the instinctive urge.
A howl reverberated throughout his skull.
"I want to know all you know, and how you know it."
Charcoal met vermillion. "Maa, all I know?" Kakashi parroted. A humorless chuckle rumbled inside his throat. Under his ceramic mask, his eyes curved upward; his nonverbal cue was just as bloodthirsty without the sharp teeth. He pressed his index and middle fingers against his left inner forearm. With a small burst of chakra, Kakashi activated a storage seal tattooed on his moonlight skin and unveiled a scroll. "I don't think so," he announced airily. The silver-haired operative unfurled the scroll and retrieved an assortment of medical supplies stored in the aged paper. "The trees and roots listen," he elaborated. Not here was left unspoken. Kakashi started prepping the bandages. "What I will tell you is Konoha is my home. I protect my home and the people inside it." The half-Uchiha deliberately poked the katana jutting from the ground. "I'll even protect the spitting kitten currently trying to sink his claws into my fur." He retracted his hand and directed his attention to Obito. He extended his palm toward the tattered high-collared shirt clinging to the unconscious Uchiha's frame.
"Maa, Raiden, if you're going to stab me, enough foreplay," Kakashi mused.
A stray mutt found outside my home. Uchiha Raiden's scent reminded Kakashi of a violent firestorm imprisoned in a thick veil of mist; the scorching wrath of unimaginable power — an unforgiving heat spreading like wildfire — with a distinct hint of rain. He was accepted within the walls, because he smelled like one of us. Until he met Raiden, Kakashi never encountered an Uchiha — his most troublesome student may have wielded raiton, but his inner fire raged like a true Uchiha — with flames as volatile as lightning; it was akin to a raging inferno infused with electricity. And now we fight things together— All the sudden, the hairs on the back of his neck stood. —some non-human parasites whose extent of their existence and capability for reproduction threatens my home, and the mutt acts strange around these spawns, fighting fiercer then I’ve ever seen, like a cornered animal. With a menacing slink, a curved blade penetrated the ground; inches from his left flank. Kakashi could taste the crackling energy permeating the air. And then he admits to having fought them before. While his own chakra — as sharp and unyielding as the Mountain Thunder Wolves of Raizan — threatened to rise and meet the unspoken challenge, he suppressed the instinctive urge.
A howl reverberated throughout his skull.
"I want to know all you know, and how you know it."
Charcoal met vermillion. "Maa, all I know?" Kakashi parroted. A humorless chuckle rumbled inside his throat. Under his ceramic mask, his eyes curved upward; his nonverbal cue was just as bloodthirsty without the sharp teeth. He pressed his index and middle fingers against his left inner forearm. With a small burst of chakra, Kakashi activated a storage seal tattooed on his moonlight skin and unveiled a scroll. "I don't think so," he announced airily. The silver-haired operative unfurled the scroll and retrieved an assortment of medical supplies stored in the aged paper. "The trees and roots listen," he elaborated. Not here was left unspoken. Kakashi started prepping the bandages. "What I will tell you is Konoha is my home. I protect my home and the people inside it." The half-Uchiha deliberately poked the katana jutting from the ground. "I'll even protect the spitting kitten currently trying to sink his claws into my fur." He retracted his hand and directed his attention to Obito. He extended his palm toward the tattered high-collared shirt clinging to the unconscious Uchiha's frame.
"Maa, Raiden, if you're going to stab me, enough foreplay," Kakashi mused.
Graverobber141
[Insert Clever Line Here]
Patience certainly wasn’t a virtue known to Raiden, and in a few precious moments, whatever little the Hatake had earned through shared outcast status and camaraderie was expelled in a single breath, worn thin to the point of non-existence. Not that such a feat was especially hard — kami know the number of exasperated sighs from the lips of his sensei during his academy days, followed by muttered ‘get along’s, which extended past his graduation. Impatience was a natural state for the stubborn Uchiha, and like lightning drawn to water, he was quick to return to it.
Evasion, after all, existed to eviscerate evidence.
His first instinct, which sparked underneath his skin and made his fingers on his left hand twitch, itching in the slight space of air before the tsuka of his short sword, was to take Kakashi up on his offer, if only to prove a point: to draw and in a flash of metal, create a arc of blood with a singular clean strike that would end all doubts and danger there. It was the easiest solution, would bring with it short-term gratification, but as he had regretfully learned through his years on the team of misfortune, violence wasn’t always the answer. And maybe, eventually, one day in the distant future, he would feel remorse for his actions; such a phenoma was hard to picture in the present, when his jaw was clenched hard enough to make the muscle ache and his teeth dig into one another.
Heartbeats of silence spent watching and considering, during which he could hear the pounding of his raging, hot blood within his ears. He steadied himself by controlling each inhalation, calming his mind if nothing else, and told himself it was for the reason of being able to strike clearer — a swordsman was precise, even when reckless. In those precarious seconds, he was able to think long enough to examine the roots beneath the enraging evasion.
’The tree and roots listen.’
Important information he might have missed a handful of years ago, when his arrogance and inclined impatience was still fueled by fresh youth and a chip on his shoulder. The chip was still present, if not more rugged, but at least he had learned to listen carefully. Considering the biology of what they had fought, the mutt might be on to something, and that afforded him a slice of previous standing, but not enough to deter Raiden completely from his confrontation.
Truthfully, it simply boiled down to pride: an innate need to bare fangs and show he was a tiger instead of a kitten.
Raiden moved with speed. Almost as if it was intentional, an attempt to once again intimidate. In a blink of an eye, catching of a breath, with the smell of ozone present from the lightning chakra stirring underneath his skin, he was before Kakashi and jerking out an arm — not to grab either of his swords, but the mutt by his mangy mess of silver hair, and not too gently.
His tomoes of his sharingan were already spinning rapidly in crimson, the genjutsu ready to fire. Should his fingers find purchase, able to make his teammate meet his gaze, he would attempt to forcibly draw out his answers through an invasion of his mind.
Evasion, after all, existed to eviscerate evidence.
His first instinct, which sparked underneath his skin and made his fingers on his left hand twitch, itching in the slight space of air before the tsuka of his short sword, was to take Kakashi up on his offer, if only to prove a point: to draw and in a flash of metal, create a arc of blood with a singular clean strike that would end all doubts and danger there. It was the easiest solution, would bring with it short-term gratification, but as he had regretfully learned through his years on the team of misfortune, violence wasn’t always the answer. And maybe, eventually, one day in the distant future, he would feel remorse for his actions; such a phenoma was hard to picture in the present, when his jaw was clenched hard enough to make the muscle ache and his teeth dig into one another.
Heartbeats of silence spent watching and considering, during which he could hear the pounding of his raging, hot blood within his ears. He steadied himself by controlling each inhalation, calming his mind if nothing else, and told himself it was for the reason of being able to strike clearer — a swordsman was precise, even when reckless. In those precarious seconds, he was able to think long enough to examine the roots beneath the enraging evasion.
’The tree and roots listen.’
Important information he might have missed a handful of years ago, when his arrogance and inclined impatience was still fueled by fresh youth and a chip on his shoulder. The chip was still present, if not more rugged, but at least he had learned to listen carefully. Considering the biology of what they had fought, the mutt might be on to something, and that afforded him a slice of previous standing, but not enough to deter Raiden completely from his confrontation.
Truthfully, it simply boiled down to pride: an innate need to bare fangs and show he was a tiger instead of a kitten.
Raiden moved with speed. Almost as if it was intentional, an attempt to once again intimidate. In a blink of an eye, catching of a breath, with the smell of ozone present from the lightning chakra stirring underneath his skin, he was before Kakashi and jerking out an arm — not to grab either of his swords, but the mutt by his mangy mess of silver hair, and not too gently.
His tomoes of his sharingan were already spinning rapidly in crimson, the genjutsu ready to fire. Should his fingers find purchase, able to make his teammate meet his gaze, he would attempt to forcibly draw out his answers through an invasion of his mind.
roxybirdie
𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐨𝐤𝐢 😸
Uchiha Raiden and him were the same; two outcasts ostracized for their traitorous blood. While he rarely interacted — beyond simple pleasantries — with the temperamental Uchiha — Raiden was like a feral cat whom flitted to and fro; unrepentantly aloof and staunchly independent — until he joined the ANBU, Kakashi didn't forget. Despite the limited interactions, the silver-haired half-Uchiha treasured the semblance of camaraderie; he wasn't alone.
"—filthy halfbreed—"
When Kakashi — despite his halfbreed status, the Uchiha Clan Head wouldn't allow an outsider with the clan's prized dōjutsu to reside in the village unsupervised — joined the Uchiha clan, he anticipated extreme animosity; it was inevitable. He was everything the proud noble clan loathed: a repulsive half-blooded mutt born out of wedlock. While the clan provided him housing — a quaint one-story unit on the outskirts of the compound — it was abundantly clear he wasn't welcome within the compound's walls.
"—disrespectful miscreant—"
Once upon a time, Kakashi was given the choice to forsake his identity and claim his Uchiha birthright. In retrospect, the offer was undoubtedly generous; a gateway to a better standing in the clan. However, Kakashi (gleefully he might add) thwarted the elders' machinations — he refused to be a mindless puppet — and recited a long-forgotten decree implemented by Senju Tobirama: in the event of reviving a deceased bloodline, sole survivors have the right to come forth and prove their birthright. Since Kakashi was the last confirmed Hatake — one of the first shinobi clans to join Konohagakure — he claimed his inheritance and bore the Hatake name; it was Konoha law.
"—stupid mutt—"
He would be lying if he said it didn't hurt. While he wasn't a natural born halfbreed, the Uchiha was — despite a certain sage's divine intervention — his family. The Hatake clan valued family — pack was everything — substantially. Pack bonds were akin to metaphysical chains binding the clan together. Losing a pack member may be painful — likened to losing a limb — but rejection was unmistakably excruciating. It hurt, but his treatment paled in comparison to his previous moniker: Nakamagoroshi no Kakashi.
Swoosh.
As quick as lightning, a hand shot up, seizing the palm aiming toward his unruly silver mane. Kakashi pivoted, facing the impatient Uchiha. Suddenly, the atmosphere surrounding the charcoal-eyed operative grew heavy. Beneath his ceramic veneer, his dark eyes illuminated a brilliant vermillion. The three tomoes morphed and stretched into elongated triangles, transforming into a pinwheel. As the pinwheels spun rapidly, the air distorted and twisted inward. Without warning, the two ANBU operatives and Uchiha refugee vanished. A few seconds later, the trio materialized on a massive stone grey pillar. A vast assortment of grey pillars — all varying heights and sizes — surrounded the single pillar. Darkness — a moonless void sprinkled with twinkling cosmic dust — encompassed the eternally night sky. Kakashi dropped his medical supplies and summoned a kage bunshin. "Treat him," he commanded. Once his shadow clone oversaw Obito's protection, Kakashi shot forward and slammed his heel against Raiden's abdomen.
"Maa, did you know your hair puffs up like a hissing kitten when you're agitated?" the halfbreed drawled. He landed a few meters away from Obito and his kage bunshin. Under his canine mask, a steely glint was evident in his crimson gaze. His fingers crackled with purple electricity. "Five years and nothing changed." Kakashi swung his left leg back and lowered his center of gravity. Pure raiton chakra coated his forearms. "Still so impatient," he huffed. He tilted his head. "Didn't your sensei teach you to look underneath the underneath?" Despite his lackadaisical tone, his defensive stance belied his vigilance.
"—filthy halfbreed—"
When Kakashi — despite his halfbreed status, the Uchiha Clan Head wouldn't allow an outsider with the clan's prized dōjutsu to reside in the village unsupervised — joined the Uchiha clan, he anticipated extreme animosity; it was inevitable. He was everything the proud noble clan loathed: a repulsive half-blooded mutt born out of wedlock. While the clan provided him housing — a quaint one-story unit on the outskirts of the compound — it was abundantly clear he wasn't welcome within the compound's walls.
"—disrespectful miscreant—"
Once upon a time, Kakashi was given the choice to forsake his identity and claim his Uchiha birthright. In retrospect, the offer was undoubtedly generous; a gateway to a better standing in the clan. However, Kakashi (gleefully he might add) thwarted the elders' machinations — he refused to be a mindless puppet — and recited a long-forgotten decree implemented by Senju Tobirama: in the event of reviving a deceased bloodline, sole survivors have the right to come forth and prove their birthright. Since Kakashi was the last confirmed Hatake — one of the first shinobi clans to join Konohagakure — he claimed his inheritance and bore the Hatake name; it was Konoha law.
"—stupid mutt—"
He would be lying if he said it didn't hurt. While he wasn't a natural born halfbreed, the Uchiha was — despite a certain sage's divine intervention — his family. The Hatake clan valued family — pack was everything — substantially. Pack bonds were akin to metaphysical chains binding the clan together. Losing a pack member may be painful — likened to losing a limb — but rejection was unmistakably excruciating. It hurt, but his treatment paled in comparison to his previous moniker: Nakamagoroshi no Kakashi.
Swoosh.
As quick as lightning, a hand shot up, seizing the palm aiming toward his unruly silver mane. Kakashi pivoted, facing the impatient Uchiha. Suddenly, the atmosphere surrounding the charcoal-eyed operative grew heavy. Beneath his ceramic veneer, his dark eyes illuminated a brilliant vermillion. The three tomoes morphed and stretched into elongated triangles, transforming into a pinwheel. As the pinwheels spun rapidly, the air distorted and twisted inward. Without warning, the two ANBU operatives and Uchiha refugee vanished. A few seconds later, the trio materialized on a massive stone grey pillar. A vast assortment of grey pillars — all varying heights and sizes — surrounded the single pillar. Darkness — a moonless void sprinkled with twinkling cosmic dust — encompassed the eternally night sky. Kakashi dropped his medical supplies and summoned a kage bunshin. "Treat him," he commanded. Once his shadow clone oversaw Obito's protection, Kakashi shot forward and slammed his heel against Raiden's abdomen.
"Maa, did you know your hair puffs up like a hissing kitten when you're agitated?" the halfbreed drawled. He landed a few meters away from Obito and his kage bunshin. Under his canine mask, a steely glint was evident in his crimson gaze. His fingers crackled with purple electricity. "Five years and nothing changed." Kakashi swung his left leg back and lowered his center of gravity. Pure raiton chakra coated his forearms. "Still so impatient," he huffed. He tilted his head. "Didn't your sensei teach you to look underneath the underneath?" Despite his lackadaisical tone, his defensive stance belied his vigilance.
Graverobber141
[Insert Clever Line Here]
Raiden cared little for his own life.
It wasn’t born from a jagged, deep scar left by psychological damage, but a calculated consequence of upbringing. The most dangerous enemies were those with nothing left to lose, and when one stepped past the fear of gambling with their own skin, it unlocked true potential. It was a fine line to walk between useless insanity and wielded recklessness, but he straddled it endlessly. Risk was in his blood, and so far, his debt hadn’t been collected. So far, he had only been the last one left standing once, and it wasn’t a phenomena he was keen on repeating.
In moments like these, he was able to thrive. Flip the shogi board completely, pieces scattering to the winds, and go beyond the game.
With the foot colliding into his abdomen, Raiden offered no resistance, instead letting his body tumble feet away to create distance. With his teeth clenched to bite back a hiss, his eyes were already spinning into the shuriken shape, and his right hand snapped up in a sign.
Darkness spread to meet darkness. His domain assaulted Kakashi’s, the thick mist spreading quickly from the half-breed’s position. With the fog flooding over his feet, Raiden summoned his own clone, and quickly pushed off the ground, separating himself from his creation within the cloud of madness.
”You’re a fool.”
His voice whispered through the black twisting tendrils, as if it belonged to a phantom, echoing in a chasm.
”And a threat.”
There were no guarantees—that’s what betting was all about—but he predicted the siege on the mind would be enough to keep Kakashi anchored within his realm. Long enough, at least, to arrive to one of two conclusions: leave with answers, or make sure none of them left at all. Within the mist, the cold stretch of nothingness that somehow felt like home because it was his, he could consider them on equal standing. In a stand-off.
”I was taught to eliminate —“ kill “—threats, not drag them back home.”
He did not stay in one position. His movements were irrational and erratic, consisting of no pattern, and never standing still; his bunshin mimicked his silent footsteps.
“You like talking, Kakashi. So talk. I’m waiting to hear your explanation. And also a reason as to why I should believe someone who has something to hide.”
Guilty until proven innocent didn’t exist in times of war. The opposite was allowed to flourish, and while some of the village were happy to drown themselves in delusion, Raiden was vigilant. He would swallow himself whole and be what he needed to be if it meant protecting his home, traitorous blood or not. Whatever camaraderie he felt would be buried under anger at perceived betrayal, and he would preform execution without hesitation, if needed.
A shinobi’s life revolved around death; they existed to kill or be killed, and the only consolation was in the purpose.
His left hand knocked the tsuka of his wakizashi away from its saya, making sure no friction would be encountered when he drew.
And he waited like a wolf at the edge of a campfire.
It wasn’t born from a jagged, deep scar left by psychological damage, but a calculated consequence of upbringing. The most dangerous enemies were those with nothing left to lose, and when one stepped past the fear of gambling with their own skin, it unlocked true potential. It was a fine line to walk between useless insanity and wielded recklessness, but he straddled it endlessly. Risk was in his blood, and so far, his debt hadn’t been collected. So far, he had only been the last one left standing once, and it wasn’t a phenomena he was keen on repeating.
In moments like these, he was able to thrive. Flip the shogi board completely, pieces scattering to the winds, and go beyond the game.
With the foot colliding into his abdomen, Raiden offered no resistance, instead letting his body tumble feet away to create distance. With his teeth clenched to bite back a hiss, his eyes were already spinning into the shuriken shape, and his right hand snapped up in a sign.
Darkness spread to meet darkness. His domain assaulted Kakashi’s, the thick mist spreading quickly from the half-breed’s position. With the fog flooding over his feet, Raiden summoned his own clone, and quickly pushed off the ground, separating himself from his creation within the cloud of madness.
”You’re a fool.”
His voice whispered through the black twisting tendrils, as if it belonged to a phantom, echoing in a chasm.
”And a threat.”
There were no guarantees—that’s what betting was all about—but he predicted the siege on the mind would be enough to keep Kakashi anchored within his realm. Long enough, at least, to arrive to one of two conclusions: leave with answers, or make sure none of them left at all. Within the mist, the cold stretch of nothingness that somehow felt like home because it was his, he could consider them on equal standing. In a stand-off.
”I was taught to eliminate —“ kill “—threats, not drag them back home.”
He did not stay in one position. His movements were irrational and erratic, consisting of no pattern, and never standing still; his bunshin mimicked his silent footsteps.
“You like talking, Kakashi. So talk. I’m waiting to hear your explanation. And also a reason as to why I should believe someone who has something to hide.”
Guilty until proven innocent didn’t exist in times of war. The opposite was allowed to flourish, and while some of the village were happy to drown themselves in delusion, Raiden was vigilant. He would swallow himself whole and be what he needed to be if it meant protecting his home, traitorous blood or not. Whatever camaraderie he felt would be buried under anger at perceived betrayal, and he would preform execution without hesitation, if needed.
A shinobi’s life revolved around death; they existed to kill or be killed, and the only consolation was in the purpose.
His left hand knocked the tsuka of his wakizashi away from its saya, making sure no friction would be encountered when he drew.
And he waited like a wolf at the edge of a campfire.
roxybirdie
𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐨𝐤𝐢 😸
Without warning, a heavy mist — a condensed fog as dark as the eternal moonless sky — encompassed the stone grey pillar. Immediately, the hairs on the back of his neck stood. Kakashi surveyed the endless void, taking a moment to clear his mind. While he never encountered the black mist, Kakashi recognized the technique; Uchiha Raiden's mangekyō was renowned within the ANBU organization. On the other hand, his knowledge — everything from loose lips to observations — was heavily limited. No Uchiha worth their salt would divulge their mangekyō's true capabilities. Kakashi knew the black mist involved genjutsu, but what type of genjutsu, he didn't know. Vermillion eyes cut through the sea of black, but all he saw was pure darkness; his heightened vision couldn't penetrate the condensed mist. A frowned marred his lips. Perhaps, it ensnared all the senses—?
"Give up."
Kakashi froze. He whirled around, hands crackling with pure raiton chakra.
"You should have stayed dead," the voice sneered.
His heart clenched. "This isn't real," he reminded himself. Kakashi knew the mist bewitched his mind, but his heart stuttered at the sudden appearance of Obito; his Obito. The aforementioned Uchiha cocked his head to the side, his bone white hair contrasting with the endless void imprisoning the ANBU operative and his demons. His skin flaked away as if Kaguya's all-killing ash bone poisoned his veins. However, he remained intact by the skin of his teeth.
"Five years and the moment you finally get your chance, you failed," Obito growled.
Kakashi gritted his teeth. "Ignore him. This isn't real," he repeated. The silver-haired halfbreed breathed in deeply and exhaled through his nostrils. It wasn't the first time he was exposed to a powerful genjutsu mangekyō; he survived Uchiha Itachi's Tsukuyomi. Kakashi repeated the breathing exercise. Eventually, his erratic heartbeat lowered to a steady rhythm.
"Now you have a paranoid Uchiha demanding answers. You might as well die. Game over."
It wasn't Obito's voice. Suddenly, another face appeared. Her bright vermillion locks pierced the fathomless void. "Trusting you with this mission was a mistake," she sneered.
It seemed the black mist prayed on the victim's darkest fears and insecurities. Kakashi knew it was all in his head; his Obito and Kushina-nee are dead. However, despite knowing it wasn't real, it hurt. Kami-sama, it hurt. He missed his Obito and Kushina-nee; his Team Seven. While the new timeline granted him a second chance with his founded family, Kakashi felt like an imposter. He didn't ask to be resurrected; the dead had no place in the world of the living.
"If you thought you could do this by yourself, you're a fool," another voice rebuked. Minato-sensei.
Kakashi clenched his hands; the amethyst glow encompassing his palms promised retribution. He surveyed the dark abyss, searching for the temperamental Uchiha. He closed his eyes and focused on his strongest attribute: his sense of smell. Within his psyche, his ghostly apparitions continued assaulting his mind. On the outside, Kakashi remained absolutely still. Purple lightning coated his arms, resembling a thousand chirping birds. While he couldn't pinpoint Raiden, Kakashi could feel the Uchiha waiting like a predator stalking his prey. His instincts screamed to move; to fight; to rip and tear. However, the silver-haired operative didn't move. To be frank, he didn't trust his sense of direction. It wouldn't surprise him if the black mist warped his perception — left could be right; up could be down; forward could be backward.
"You're a fool ... and a threat."
His hypersensitive nose twitched. "In," he thought. Kakashi inhaled. "And out." He exhaled through his nostrils. Within his mind's eye, Kakashi tracked Raiden's erratic movements. While he couldn't see the half-blooded Uchiha — the mist was too thick — he could smell him. For a moment, Kakashi blocked the voices urging him to give in. Unlike the stubborn Uchiha currently ensnaring him in his mist, he was a patient man. He learned how to play the long game.
"You like talking, Kakashi. So talk. I’m waiting to hear your explanation. And also a reason as to why I should believe someone who has something to hide."
His eyes remained closed. "We all have something to hide. It's in our nature; we're shinobi," Kakashi pointed out. He tilted his head, maintaining visual within his mind's eye. Once he directed his focus toward Raiden, the dark voices of his past demons faded in the background. The cruel apparitions didn't vanish, but it wasn't the first time his darkest fears haunted him; he compartmentalized. "Let me tell you something an old friend once taught me," he began. Kakashi opened his eyes. The pinwheels in his vermillion hues spun languidly. "In our world, those who break the rules and regulations are scum. However—" Suddenly, the purple lightning enveloping his arms dissipated. "—those who abandon their friends are worse than scum." He raised his hand and gripped his katana's tsuka. "The man you're hellbent on eliminating is not only a friend to those I care about, he's also a member of the Hidden Leaf; a comrade," he announced. Slowly, he unsheathed his sword. He lowered his arm and bent his knees. "Our clan may treat us like pariahs, but it doesn't mean I have to sink to their level. Uchiha Obito is not only a comrade, he's also my half-brother." Even if Obito's blood didn't course through his veins, the man was his brother-in-all-but-blood; he was pack.
"Maa, perhaps it's foolish of me to protect a man I've never met, but—" His grip on his katana's tsuka tightened. "—I'm half Hatake; family is everything." The location of his saya wasn't traditional. However, since he lacked a wakizashi — Kakashi forgone the daishō pair and relied on ninjutsu as his secondary sword — the silver-haired halfbreed took a page out of his late father's book and opted for a back harness. "Even if I told you what I know, you wouldn't believe me. I suppose there's no use avoiding this, ne?" Without warning, the pinwheel in his right eye spun rapidly and pulsed. The air surrounding Kakashi twisted inward and he vanished. A few seconds later, the vermillion-eyed operative materialized in the dimension once more. He repeated the technique, phasing in and out of his mangekyō's dimension. His movements were swift and unpredictable like his opponent's earlier tactic. After his third shift, Kakashi summoned two kage bunshins and continued his dance. It was unclear if he shattered the powerful mist genjutsu's hold over his mind completely or persevered out of sheer stubborn will.
"Think you can catch me, eh little kitten?"
"Give up."
Kakashi froze. He whirled around, hands crackling with pure raiton chakra.
"You should have stayed dead," the voice sneered.
His heart clenched. "This isn't real," he reminded himself. Kakashi knew the mist bewitched his mind, but his heart stuttered at the sudden appearance of Obito; his Obito. The aforementioned Uchiha cocked his head to the side, his bone white hair contrasting with the endless void imprisoning the ANBU operative and his demons. His skin flaked away as if Kaguya's all-killing ash bone poisoned his veins. However, he remained intact by the skin of his teeth.
"Five years and the moment you finally get your chance, you failed," Obito growled.
Kakashi gritted his teeth. "Ignore him. This isn't real," he repeated. The silver-haired halfbreed breathed in deeply and exhaled through his nostrils. It wasn't the first time he was exposed to a powerful genjutsu mangekyō; he survived Uchiha Itachi's Tsukuyomi. Kakashi repeated the breathing exercise. Eventually, his erratic heartbeat lowered to a steady rhythm.
"Now you have a paranoid Uchiha demanding answers. You might as well die. Game over."
It wasn't Obito's voice. Suddenly, another face appeared. Her bright vermillion locks pierced the fathomless void. "Trusting you with this mission was a mistake," she sneered.
It seemed the black mist prayed on the victim's darkest fears and insecurities. Kakashi knew it was all in his head; his Obito and Kushina-nee are dead. However, despite knowing it wasn't real, it hurt. Kami-sama, it hurt. He missed his Obito and Kushina-nee; his Team Seven. While the new timeline granted him a second chance with his founded family, Kakashi felt like an imposter. He didn't ask to be resurrected; the dead had no place in the world of the living.
"If you thought you could do this by yourself, you're a fool," another voice rebuked. Minato-sensei.
Kakashi clenched his hands; the amethyst glow encompassing his palms promised retribution. He surveyed the dark abyss, searching for the temperamental Uchiha. He closed his eyes and focused on his strongest attribute: his sense of smell. Within his psyche, his ghostly apparitions continued assaulting his mind. On the outside, Kakashi remained absolutely still. Purple lightning coated his arms, resembling a thousand chirping birds. While he couldn't pinpoint Raiden, Kakashi could feel the Uchiha waiting like a predator stalking his prey. His instincts screamed to move; to fight; to rip and tear. However, the silver-haired operative didn't move. To be frank, he didn't trust his sense of direction. It wouldn't surprise him if the black mist warped his perception — left could be right; up could be down; forward could be backward.
"You're a fool ... and a threat."
His hypersensitive nose twitched. "In," he thought. Kakashi inhaled. "And out." He exhaled through his nostrils. Within his mind's eye, Kakashi tracked Raiden's erratic movements. While he couldn't see the half-blooded Uchiha — the mist was too thick — he could smell him. For a moment, Kakashi blocked the voices urging him to give in. Unlike the stubborn Uchiha currently ensnaring him in his mist, he was a patient man. He learned how to play the long game.
"You like talking, Kakashi. So talk. I’m waiting to hear your explanation. And also a reason as to why I should believe someone who has something to hide."
His eyes remained closed. "We all have something to hide. It's in our nature; we're shinobi," Kakashi pointed out. He tilted his head, maintaining visual within his mind's eye. Once he directed his focus toward Raiden, the dark voices of his past demons faded in the background. The cruel apparitions didn't vanish, but it wasn't the first time his darkest fears haunted him; he compartmentalized. "Let me tell you something an old friend once taught me," he began. Kakashi opened his eyes. The pinwheels in his vermillion hues spun languidly. "In our world, those who break the rules and regulations are scum. However—" Suddenly, the purple lightning enveloping his arms dissipated. "—those who abandon their friends are worse than scum." He raised his hand and gripped his katana's tsuka. "The man you're hellbent on eliminating is not only a friend to those I care about, he's also a member of the Hidden Leaf; a comrade," he announced. Slowly, he unsheathed his sword. He lowered his arm and bent his knees. "Our clan may treat us like pariahs, but it doesn't mean I have to sink to their level. Uchiha Obito is not only a comrade, he's also my half-brother." Even if Obito's blood didn't course through his veins, the man was his brother-in-all-but-blood; he was pack.
"Maa, perhaps it's foolish of me to protect a man I've never met, but—" His grip on his katana's tsuka tightened. "—I'm half Hatake; family is everything." The location of his saya wasn't traditional. However, since he lacked a wakizashi — Kakashi forgone the daishō pair and relied on ninjutsu as his secondary sword — the silver-haired halfbreed took a page out of his late father's book and opted for a back harness. "Even if I told you what I know, you wouldn't believe me. I suppose there's no use avoiding this, ne?" Without warning, the pinwheel in his right eye spun rapidly and pulsed. The air surrounding Kakashi twisted inward and he vanished. A few seconds later, the vermillion-eyed operative materialized in the dimension once more. He repeated the technique, phasing in and out of his mangekyō's dimension. His movements were swift and unpredictable like his opponent's earlier tactic. After his third shift, Kakashi summoned two kage bunshins and continued his dance. It was unclear if he shattered the powerful mist genjutsu's hold over his mind completely or persevered out of sheer stubborn will.
"Think you can catch me, eh little kitten?"
