The truth isn't far behind me

oOo

He was taller than he remembered. It was only natural to think that, however. It had been over sixteen plus years. Things change with the unforgiving hands of time, and height was no exception. He should've been worried, perhaps deathly afraid of him, since he was starring down the crackling end of a chidori. There was a million, trillion things he should've had on his mind right at this definitive moment that would've made so much more sense. A plan should've been formulating in his ever-strategic mind, a scream or plea should've been on his lips, a jutsu should've been aiming for the jugular. But no. All he could think of, all that ran through his mind again and again, was: He's gotten taller.

Kakashi wasn't known for stage fright. He wasn't known for freeze-ups, clam-ups, nothing of the sort. The infamous copy-nin's name was not scrawled hastily in bingo books for his mind's ability to shut down right in the heat of battle. He would've been dead a long time ago. And yet here he was, joints locked and drawing a blank. Kakashi's inner conscience was screaming its head off for him to do something. Anything. This wasn't a time to be thrust down memory lane, to take in the notable change in stature. Kakashi could feel the sweat and blood (who's, he did not know) start to trickle down his clammy, pale skin. Was his heart still beating?

He was taller, Kakashi surmised. The top of his black, spiked hair reached towards his own silver apex. The jounin only had to raise his eyes a millimeter to meet the glistening, red orb, but the one-thousandth of a meter did not go unnoticed. And my, did he have a strong grip on his wrist. Kakashi could feel his bones groaning under the immense, torturous pressure. So much stronger than back then. He was more muscular as well, far more bulkier than Kakashi's own lithe form. Of course he was though. Things change from twelve to twenty-nine. Kakashi shouldn't have been so surprised, but he couldn't stop his mismatched eyes from blinking unbelievably.

There was a thick silence, one that could go on for miles and could constrict voice boxes into a choke hold. Kakashi didn't dare to break it, not that the thought had crossed his mind. He was still so enveloped, staring into that one scarlet iris that threatened to burn out his corneas. The copy-nin only absently noted that his fingers were beginning to numb from the steel grip upon his wrist. Kakashi was gone, far gone in a world that was long forgotten, replaying faded memories that still stung so sharply. The black, unkept hair. The too-wide smile. He somehow missed those damn goggles.

"What are you staring at?"

Kakashi snapped back into reality (more like present). The elite jounin found himself not really caring how he was tilting on the cusp of death. The chidori that screamed in his eardrum was not so threatening, not so scary. The swirled orange mask that lay forgotten, cracked, on the blood-splattered ground didn't seem so mystifying. Kakashi didn't find himself reeling with anger at the blatant betrayal. He didn't find himself fighting back. That scared him a bit.

Kakashi blinked once before finding his hidden lips curving into a wan smile, "Nothing. I just thought I saw something."

He peered into the man's sharingan once more, letting himself be slightly hypnotized by the spinning tomoes. Beneath the sacred weapon lay a distinct darkness, something so deep that the silver-haired prodigy could never find his way out of. He searched to find any recognition, any sign that he wasn't the only one who knew, who remembered. It was fruitless.

Kakashi sighed, his eyes tracing the morbid scars that adorned the man's right side of his face, "It's not there anymore, though."

The retired ANBU brought his gaze back upon the Akatsuki before him. It wasn't the time to be sentimental. It wasn't the time to have apologies on the tip of his tongue, just itching to start bubbling over. It wasn't the time to back down and cringe away from something that was so disgustingly wrong.

A half-smile curved the black-haired ninja's left cheek, the other side drooping in deformation, "Oh? And what's that?"

The voice was too mature, too sickeningly rough to the contrast in Kakashi's memory. The copy-nin swallowed the apologies, the visage of the jovial genin, and quirked up a silver eyebrow, somehow reverting back to his childhood haughtiness, "Does it matter?"

The smile fell away as Kakashi ripped his wrist out of the Akatsuki's clutches and skidded back a good ten feet, dust billowing around his lean form, silver hair glistening in the noon sun. Manifesting a kunai in his right hand, Kakashi crouched into his usual battle stance, ready to take on the chidori that still chirped and screeched ten feet away and the memories the enemy stirred. His (stolen) sharingan pulsed, tears starting to well up on its own accord like always.

Kakashi blinked them away.

The missing-nin sprinted across the ten feet, aiming the chidori for his heart.

Kakashi waited, kunai drawn.

Tobi – irrational as always.

Kakashi smiled wistfully.

Somehow, it all seemed too familiar.

oOo

A/N: I tried not to use Tobi's name (or is it his real name? The speculation continues!) but I had to.

A dribble drabble on all the what if's circulating around the Naruto fandom. I have my own views on the situation.. I tried to keep this pretty vague so everyone can draw their own conclusions. I hope you all enjoyed!

Thanks for reading and drop by a review!

- - H. 92