[Itachi Uchiha: "Obito… is he actually going to hit Six Paths level?"]
[Madara Uchiha: "…"]
[Black Zetsu: "…"]
[Hashirama Senju: "Madara, why are you and that mud-eel just… poking dots?"]
"You know what Naruto feels," Kakashi said, voice scraped raw. "You could still turn back. Be who you were."
Obito chuckled—then threw his head back and laughed, a sound halfway between mockery and self-loathing.
One of the Four Great Uchiha Cacklers, apparently.
"Because I know him so well," Obito said, eyes cooling, "I want to hear everything he believes—
and then deny it."
[Hashirama: "Why are you holding a Raikiri and… monologuing?"]
[Tobirama: "Brother. Focus."]
[Itachi: "Wait—Obito, what are you doing?"]
[Madara: "Obito… are you performing this for me?"]
[Kakashi: "Obito… why won't you finish me?"]
"Your guilt is laughable," Obito murmured. "If you think I started this war because of you and Rin, you've understood nothing."
He stepped forward into the blade.
Kakashi's Raikiri punched clean through Obito's chest—leaving a brutal, smoking hole.
The chat sucked in a breath.
"I know everything," Obito said. Kakashi's pupils pinched, a ghost of Rin flashing across his vision.
The speech kept coming: it wasn't only Rin; Obito hated the shinobi system itself, the world's scaffolding of pain.
So: Infinite Tsukuyomi.
Kakashi drew breath to argue—
Obito spread his hands, pointing at the empty ring where a heart should be.
"Look. There's nothing in here anymore. I don't even feel pain. Don't apologize—this hole was carved by the world."
[Mei Terumi: "Is he… serious?"]
[Fourth Raikage A: "That grin gave me Itachi flashbacks."]
[Hidan: "Do Uchiha have a laughter rite?"]
[Kisame: "The smile was very Itachi-like."]
The crowd, who a minute earlier filed Obito under "deranged," went quiet.
Could a dream world be… right?
Kakashi shook his head. No. On this they would never agree.
Illusions fell away. Both men raised a single hand—Opposing Seals.
"I'll do for you what I can," Kakashi said. "I'll end it."
"Then come."
The frame blurred—
Two boys appeared on a training ground.
"Commence mock battle," Minato announced, smiling.
They moved.
Fists cracked the silence of Kamui like thunder.
No feints, no tricks—just meat and bone, the memory of childhood sparring braided into a duel decided by grown men.
Obito hammered Kakashi with a string of shots—Kakashi slid out, reset, answered with a tight three-piece.
Images overlapped: kid-Kakashi backflipping into a downward kick, kunai flashing—kid-Obito slipping by a hair, smashing the blade away with a black receiver.
Now.
Kakashi snapped a kunai—tink—it nicked Obito's cheek. Obito turned with a hook that launched Kakashi into the stone.
[Hashirama: "Kakashi, why are you so frail?"]
[Kakashi: "First Hokage-sama, I… the Sharingan—"]
[Hashirama: "Even then—"]
[Tobirama: "We are not all you, Brother."]
[Madara: "Hashirama, your one-thousand-meter Buddha is not a fair bar."]
[Kurama: "Where, exactly, am I 'so strong'? Cite sources."]
Kakashi dragged himself upright.
Obito rolled his neck, drew another black rod, and charged.
Steel rang—sparks sprayed—tempo climbed.
Close-quarters in tight circles; footwork carving crescents through dust. It was a taijutsu festival: clean entries, elbow checks, hip turns, clinch breaks.
Even a layperson could see it—Obito had the edge.
[A (Fourth Raikage): "Now that is a fight."]
[Ōnoki: "Satisfying."]
[Mei: "How does it end?"]
[Obito: "Trash Kakashi. In that video, you were never my match."]
[Kakashi: "Obito…"]
Kakashi parried—slipped—got caught.
They locked, forearms trembling.
Obito's mouth curled. "Borrowing your hands."
He forced Kakashi's fingers into a seal, snapped a kick up into Kakashi's chin, and slid back.
The past overlaid the present—
"Fire Style: Great Fireball!" young Obito exhaled a sun.
Kakashi slammed both palms down—
"Earth Style: Rock Wall!"
Stone bloomed; flames ate it, spiderweb cracks racing.
Footsteps in smoke.
Kakashi turned—only a kunai tore the veil.
The real Obito burst from behind and soccer-kicked Kakashi's jaw, plastering him against the wall.
The rod came up—aimed for the throat—
The ground erupted under Obito's feet.
He glanced at the "Kakashi" he'd pinned.
"It's this one—"
The body burst into lightning. A Raiden Bunshin.
[Itachi: "Feels like Obito is… holding back?"]
[Madara: "Your Rinnegan tricks, where are they?"]
[Obito: "…"]
[Madara: "Are. You. Acting. For. Me?!"]
The smoke peeled apart.
Behind Obito, inches from his spine—
Kakashi, one eye dark, one eye burning, arm cocked.
Raikiri hissed, the note thin and lethal.
To be continued…
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