.

.

He isn't sure how they won the war.

The cell Obito is locked up in is underground, fortified by several barriers and guarded by a small army of ANBU nin. Slowly, Kakashi walks down the spiral steps, the black swath of his shadow cutting against the light from the torches bouncing on stone walls. "Are you sure?" Tsunade had said. Kakashi had stood in her office, waiting for Tsunade's answer. Her brow furrowed. "Very well," Tsunade said. "I will permit it." And Kakashi bowed and thanked her quietly, gathering his things.

The staircase descends, and Kakashi nods to the ANBU guards outside the entrance. The door groans, then opens, the heavy metal plating scraping against the concrete, and Kakashi steps inside.

There is no light in the corridor, and it takes a moment for Kakashi's eyes to adjust. Somewhere, a pipe is dripping, his footsteps echoing quietly. And then he hears it: the slightest rustle of chains, the sound of someone moving in the dark.

"Kakashi," Obito says, and Kakashi can just barely make out his figure, hunched against the metal bars. "So you've come."

He shifts again, and Kakashi lifts the torch, can see how Obito's eye still oozes blood through the bandages. They had blinded him as a precautionary measure, even though his sharingan had been sealed - "He's dangerous enough without it," Tsunade had said- and silently Kakashi marvels at how Obito is still able to recognize him. "How interesting," Obito says, and Kakashi kneels outside the bars. "Do not tell me you're getting nostalgic."

"Obito," Kakashi says, and Obito shifts, the chains rustling with his movement. "I brought a salve. It's for your eye. It will help with the pain."

"Pain," Obito says. He looks up again, a thin trickle of blood dripping through the bandages. "I have no pain. Only regret that I have not succeeded."

Kakashi says nothing. Silently, he searches for the key and unlocks Obito's cell, stepping inside.

Funny: in combat, Obito was a force, someone terrifying and brutal. But now Obito is silent, almost docile, as Kakashi kneels beside him and gently begins unwrapping the dressings around his forehead. The bandages are soiled and there is a distinct smell of rotting flesh, the gaping hole of his right eye grinning at him like an open mouth.

"It looks painful," Kakashi says again, and with a cloth begins to gently daub on the salve. Obito doesn't wince, but there it is: a sharp intake of breath, so soft and subtle that anyone else would not have heard. "Sorry," Kakashi says again, and he screws on the lid of the jar.

"You realize it is pointless, correct?" Obito says. "They are executing me tomorrow. A little ointment will not change that."

"Yes," Kakashi says. "But there is no reason you have to suffer needlessly."

Obito says nothing. Quietly, Kakashi puts back the jar and moves to sit beside him, leaning heavily against the stone wall.

The execution is scheduled to take place at dawn. The other kages had protested - Obito was an international war criminal, someone who threatened the peace and very existence of all five lands - but Tsunade had insisted that he was Konoha's responsibility, their greatest failure, and she sought to make amends. "It will be public," Tsunade promised, which the others had grudgingly allowed.

Now, a sentry walks the corridor, just beyond the field of Kakashi's vision, the length of his shadow momentarily blurring the muted torchlight as he passed; there is the sound of footsteps, other men chatting, furtively. They are nervous and they have a right to be: the night before, Obito nearly killed a man with a broken chopstick, shoved hard between the muscles of the sentry's exposed neck; before that, he had single-handedly taken down three guards using the very chains to which he was shackled. "You are not leaving," Obito says, and he sounds surprised - not that Kakashi isn't afraid of him, but that the others would knowingly allow him to walk into the cell, unarmed. "You really mean to stay, don't you?"

Kakashi turns. The scars on Obito's face are harsh, jagged, areas of old dried blood running into the cracks of his skin. "Well," Kakashi says, and he leans back against the wall.

"I'm not about to let a crybaby Uchiha elite sit around by himself."

Obito makes a sound - not quite a laugh, but close. "Do not tell me you mean to reminisce," Obito says, and Kakashi can see how the shackles around Obito's wrists have started to dig into his skin, the areas raw and weeping. Kakashi frowns, then looks out into the dark, ready to let the matter drop when Obito adds, "You seem to have done well for yourself. Although I hear you have picked up a number of bad habits."

"Yourbad habits," Kakashi says. "And whenever I'm late, I at least have a legitimate excuse."

"...I see," Obito says, and he falls silent. A few moments pass, and Kakashi wonders silently if it was too much, if he should have let the things of their past rest. The curve of Obito's neck is bowed like a tree under heavy rain, and suddenly he just looks more tired. He doesn't understand. How could someone like Obito turn out so twisted, so full of hate and rage? Kakashi studies him silently, counts the shallow wounds on the areas of exposed skin and the red, crusted gash against his leg, and doesn't know where to begin.

"Why?" Kakashi says, and Obito turns his head. "What happened to you, Obito?"

There is a sound of footsteps: more guards. Obito doesn't move, doesn't make a sound.

"How could you ask me that, Kakashi?" Obito says. He looks up at him again, the gouge of his eye red and weeping. "How could you, when we live in a world where children kill for profit, and murder is the only way?"

"You killed our sensei," Kakashi says.

"He killed himself," Obito says.

Beneath its cover, the sharingan of Kakashi's left eye is spinning. Hurting. Quietly Kakashi blinks and lifts a palm to cover the eye. "You feel it too, don't you?" Obito says, and Kakashi looks up, sees the lines on Obito's face. "There was so much to sacrifice," Obito says, and for a moment, Kakashi can swear he hears it: the faintest crack of hesitation, the way men sound when they lie to themselves. "It was a burden I was glad to bear."

"Is that what you believe?" Kakashi says, and Obito's eyes fall closed.

"Yes," Obito says, and the torch light flickers. Kakashi can imagine what it was like: drifting, village to village, alone and with only the clarity of purpose to guide him. A lonely, hollow life. Irrationally, Kakashi wonders if Obito had ever felt lonely, killing his heart and swallowing his pain.

For some reason, Kakashi's mind lurches back to a memory: Kakashi beating him during a sparring session, Rin watching and cheering as Kakashi tried out his newest move, which knocked Obito off his feet. Afterwards, Obito had complained and sulked and went to nurse his wounds, and it wasn't until Kakashi was heading home that he saw it: Obito crying by a tree stump, goggles shoved up against his forehead and sniffling, pathetically.

At the time, Kakashi didn't say anything, caught between feeling sorry for him and feeling slightly disgusted, that this supposed Uchiha elite couldn't take a proper loss the way a true shinobi would. Kakashi never mentioned it, and Obito didn't ask, but the next time Kakashi insulted him, he made sure to let the world know what a worthless crybaby his teammate was, and how much of a burden it was to be saddled with it.

"I'm sorry I called you a crybaby," Kakashi says suddenly. Obito seems genuinely surprised. "You were just kind. I never should have been so cruel."

It is important, somehow, that Kakashi tell him this. He isn't sure if Obito understands how important his friendship was, how much it shaped him. Groomed him. Suddenly a wave of feeling wells up inside him, but Kakashi doesn't have the words.

"You really were a terrible shinobi, though," Kakashi says. He tilts his head back, remembering."The only Uchiha not to activate his sharingan. We used to joke that you had two left feet," Kakashi says, and he looks at Obito again, at the ropes of lean muscle and the scars on his hands. He feels a weird sort of pride at seeing how much his friend had grown, and even though Obito was now an enemy nin, Kakashi is proud of his skill. "If only they could see you now."

"I'm sure they have," Obito says, and there is a quiet sort of sadness there, the kind hidden beneath layers of cruelty and mocking. "I'm sure I probably already killed them."

His eyes close, then open, blind but staring out into the dark. "What would Rin think of me now?"

Kakashi doesn't answer. Around them, the air grows cold and he can hear the soft night sounds of guards shuffling straw and sentries pacing down the corridor. Obito opens his eyes and Kakashi has the uncomfortable feeling that Obito can seehim, can read perfectly the expression on his face, and know exactly what Kakashi wants to tell him.

"She'd probably understand," Kakashi says, finally, but Obito shakes his head.

"You don't have to lie, Kakashi," Obito says. "I know exactly what she'd think of me," and the words are heavy with regret: "It is...another burden I must bear."

The guards are chatting, quietly. It is almost morning. Kakashi glances back through the bars, then back at Obito, whose body seems folded inward. In a few hours, Obito will be executed. Already shinobi from all five nations have come to Konoha, blood hungry and wanting revenge. It will be a spectacle; it will be a dishonorable death.

"Kakashi," Obito says, and Kakashi turns.

"I am tired," Obito says, quietly. "I have not slept well during these past few years. I think it is starting to catch up with me." And Kakashi nods, starting to rise.

"You can stay, if you like," Obito says. He doesn't look at him. Kakashi nods again, the lowers to a seated position beside him. Slowly, Obito leans back against the wall, then closes his eyes.

xXx

.

The sky is gray and overcast when they lead Obito out into the field, the coterie of ANBU nin flanking around him. Silently, Kakashi walks, the sword heavy in his hand. He watches how Obito's hands are chained to his back, and how his eyes seem to stare sightlessly at the watery sunlight and at the fog lifting at the horizon.

"Obito," Kakashi says, and Obito kneels, lets them brush away the hair from his neck. "I'm sorry."

"No," Obito says, and he raises his head up, slightly. "I'm glad it's going to be you."

The sword is heavy and hard in his hand. The blade gleams, and birds scatter above them as he brings it down.