The clash between Kakashi and the masked man dragged on, each exchange more punishing than the last. Sparks lit the night as steel met steel, jutsu crackling in the air. Kiba and Akamaru circled, looking for any chance to break the stalemate, but it was clear who held the advantage.
Obito.
Every move carried ruthless precision. Kakashi and Kiba together could barely keep pace. Just moments ago, Obito had nearly taken Kiba with a single strike—Kakashi's intervention was the only thing that saved him.
"Kakashi… accept your fate. You're no match for me," Obito's voice rang with cold arrogance, a voice sharpened by years of bitterness.
Kakashi's chest rose and fell heavily. "As long as the battle isn't over, the outcome is never certain."
Obito's single visible eye narrowed. "Still clinging to that stubborn talk, even on the brink of death."
He lunged, warping forward with Kamui's distortion, palm reaching for Kakashi's throat.
Kakashi's right hand lit with piercing blue, lightning hissing violently. Raikiri crackled, the air around him seared by its deadly edge. He drove it straight toward the mask.
The blade of lightning passed through Obito's head as though it wasn't there. A split-second later, Obito's hand clamped firmly around Kakashi's neck, squeezing.
"I've won, Kakashi," Obito declared flatly, as if stating a simple fact.
But before the words could settle, the mask cracked.
Shkkk!
Fragments burst away, scattering across the ground.
"Ahhh!" Obito staggered back with a roar, blasted off his feet. His body skidded across the earth, rolling violently until it came to rest more than ten meters away.
Kakashi dropped to his knees, gasping, Raikiri sputtering out. Sweat and exhaustion drenched him. Every muscle screamed. His body had long since exceeded its limit; only sheer resolve kept him upright.
I had to know…
His gaze locked onto the fallen man.
And then he saw it.
The mask, shattered down the middle. Half of the face beneath was exposed.
Kakashi's Sharingan widened in disbelief. "Obito…? Is it you?" His voice cracked, stunned. "Why… why are you like this? You're alive… why didn't you come back to Konoha?"
For years, he had believed Obito was gone, crushed beneath stone. A boy who had given his life, a comrade whose memory haunted him. Yet here he was — alive, twisted, wearing the mask of an enemy.
Obito's expression twisted, his voice ragged with fury. "I can't go back! Nothing can go back, Kakashi!" His tone broke into a roar. "It's all because of you! Rin is dead because of you!"
The words struck like a kunai through the chest.
Kakashi froze, pain contorting his features. He had no defense. It was the truth. Rin had died by his hand, pierced by the same Raikiri he wielded even now. The weight of it pressed down on him, as it always had.
"That's because…" Kakashi tried to speak, but the words fell. No excuse could erase what had happened.
Obito's eye burned red. "I'll create a world where Rin still exists. A new world. And you—you'll be nothing but a memory."
He adjusted the half-broken mask, hiding what remained of his face. His form warped, space twisting around him as Kamui engulfed him.
In truth, Obito could have ended Kakashi's life in that moment. But the broken mask, the face-to-face recognition—those had stripped away the coldness he hid behind. The past had shaken him, if only for an instant.
"Kakashi!" Obito's voice echoed one last time before vanishing into the void.
Silence fell. Kakashi remained kneeling, his gaze fixed on the empty air where Obito had disappeared. His heart pounded painfully against his ribs.
More than a decade. Nearly twenty years. And only now, the truth. Obito was alive. Alive—and his enemy.
"Kakashi-sensei!" Kiba staggered closer, Akamaru at his side. "Are you okay? Who was that guy…? Who is Obito to you?"
Even a fool could see the bond between the two men. The clash had carried weight no stranger's duel ever could.
Kakashi lay back on the earth, his body giving out at last. His eyes stared blankly at the sky. "Obito…" His voice was barely a whisper. "Take me back, Kiba. I can't…"
The shock, the exhaustion—it was too much. The truth pressed down on him, inescapable.
"Got it. Akamaru!" Kiba called, and the great hound crouched beside Kakashi, lifting him gently onto his back. "Hang on, Kakashi-sensei. We'll get you out of here."
As they departed, not far away, a Naruto shadow clone burst apart with a faint pop.
The real Naruto, still locked in battle with Deidara, felt the surge of memory. His lips curled into a faint, mysterious smile.
Perfect. Kakashi confronted him. The mask is broken. Obito's secret is no longer safe.
One plan had succeeded. The longer he kept Deidara occupied, the better. The world was shifting piece by piece, just as he wanted.
"Deidara," Naruto called out across the battlefield, his tone light, almost mocking. "This little game of ours… It's nearly over."
Deidara's fury ignited like fire. "A game?! You dare call this a game?!" His clay bird shrieked through the air, wings beating hard. Rage painted every word. "You bastard!"
And the fight raged on.
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