Sort of sad and pensive. I've just been thinking how things would have been so different if Obito survived that mission, if the Yondaime didn't die in the sealing of that fateful jutsu... and how it can't matter, because that's not how it went and shinobi have enough on their minds without regret. Spoilers for recent Shippuuden.

Disclaiming: No owning of Naruto going on here.

To Pass Down and On

The orange book rested in the pocket of his green vest, its weight and content forgotten. He crouched in front of the flat grey stone, his legs cramping under him, the only indication to him of his long period of immobility. This was how he lost track of time so easily; this stone never moved, and the names engraved deeply into its surface never would, forever carved into history. When he paused here, reliving the past, he became as stone too, a worn but solid survivor throughout the passage of time.

He closed both his eyes, feeling air on one eyeball and scratchy fabric on the other. The steady block writing hung inside his mind. Uchiha Obito. Namikaze Minato. He could trace each letter in his head; he no longer felt the need to do so physically. In the beginning, he had; after each death, he came here, slipped his gloves off and ran his bare fingers over the fresh carvings. But he had never been able to transfer any touch of warmth to the hard, cool stone, nor had it provided him with any in return.

He didn't feel any closer to Obito or Minato-sensei when he knelt here. He felt them always, no matter the place or time - an echo of Obito's laughter when he walked through town, the gentle presence of the Yondaime at his shoulder when he was in need of wisdom. And he was in need often.

But here, he was able to be with them and only with them; no interruptions, no outside disturbances. Here, he could almost imagine that he heard them speak, rather than just feeling them with him. Come on, Kakashi! You waste your life in front of this stone. You have your team; they're waiting for you! That would be Obito, the voice of reason he had always ignored before it was gone. It's all right, Kakashi. The rules will bend on occasion. That was Minato-sensei, chiding slightly and giving good advice simultaneously.

They had both understood him so well. But only now that they were truly gone, for eternity, was he beginning to understand them at all.

He was all that was left of their old team, and he had learned to take that as a responsibility but not as a burden. He would continue to teach, as Minato-sensei had; he would continue to learn, as Obito had. That way they would both approve, and he would be living the real life of a shinobi.

He snapped around, sensing movement behind him. He let his guard down to Obito and his sensei, but never to anyone else.

For a moment his breath caught in his lungs, his gaze arresting on the bright spikes of blond hair and brimming, scintillating blue eyes. Then he relaxed; it was Naruto. Still, he half-expected Rin and Obito to emerge from behind him. He had noticed his students growing older, with the astuteness and observation of a trained instructor; but still, it seemed, with a bit of the bias of an affectionate guardian. For a second he'd been staring at Naruto from an entirely objective perspective, and he had seen a Hokage and not a hyperactive blond loudmouth.

"Yo," he said noncommittally, raising one hand in lazy greeting. Naruto looked back at him with very wide eyes, all the surprise of an unexpected meeting plain on his face. Then he smiled, lifting a hand to scratch self-consciously at the back of his neck. The grin came easily and quickly, never tentative, but it was more a confession of sheepish pleasure than a shout of joy.

"Kakashi-sensei," Naruto greeted him. Kakashi missed the very audible exclamation point that usually accompanied Naruto's enthusiastic statements.

Brought out of his long-ago reveries, he suddenly remembered more recent events. He glanced back at the memorial stone, reading the name at the very bottom of the lengthy list.

He stood and moved a little to the side, allowing Naruto to occupy the vacant spot right in front of the monument. Naruto, his eyes already stonily fixed on the bottom engraving, stepped up beside his teacher. "Eheh... I don't really come here often...not like you, Kakashi-sensei. But, I just..."

He bent his head down, blond hair drooping over his forehead protector and grazing his eyelashes. Kakashi watched him attentively.

Suddenly Naruto dropped to his knees. His palms planted themselves on the grass, curling into shaking fists. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut, then opened them again, irresistibly drawn to that one name, forever engraved in rock. "Ero-sennin..." he whispered. His voice trembled, grinding out the word.

Kakashi laid one firm hand on Naruto's stiff shoulder, letting it rest there in silent comfort and respect. In pure compassion, his gaze travelled over that bowed mop of electric hair, and he remembered sticking his fingers into it, messing it teasingly, remembered someone else who had missed out on years of ruffling that same young, soft head. I wish I could tell you how proud he would be of you, Naruto. All your life.

Teacher and student stood there for as long as seemed fitting. Time passed in its course, painfully, but just as it should. Each new generation brought new pain, but also a new present with new promises. And Naruto was so full of promise. Passed down from his father, passed down from Kakashi, passed down from himself and whatever it was that made people believe in him.

Kakashi pretended not to notice the tear winding its straight, wet way down Naruto's cheek, humming very, very quietly to himself. For him, the time of mourning was long gone. Now was the time for thinking and acting, for teaching and helping along the future in any way he possibly could.

Obito and Minato-sensei had shown him what was worth dying for. And in doing so, they had brought him to realize what was worth living for.

A/N: I'm gonna miss you, Jiraiya-sama. Now it's just Naruto and Kakashi left in that particular line of intructors and students.