Whether to kill Uchiha Obito was a tormenting question. While Obito was unconscious, Nagato had combed through every corner of his mind via the Human Path. From the Nine-Tails incident years ago to the trivial—like the time Rin from a stolen photo was almost caught by Kakashi—Obito's entire life was laid bare before Nagato. Naturally, he saw how Obito colluded with Hanzo of the Salamander and Shimura Danzo to kill his dear friend Yahiko, and how he was guided into the future meticulously arranged by Uchiha Madara.
Had he not known that all of this had been orchestrated by Madara, killing Obito would have been effortless, leaving no burden on Nagato's conscience. Unfortunately, he knew that this man named Uchiha Obito was as tragic as he himself had once been.
Chosen by fate, everyone closest to him had died because of him. Because he became a piece in someone else's plan, every tragedy unfolded systematically. Watching Obito fall into Madara's trap was like looking into a mirror of his past self. When Nagato entered Obito's mind and felt his emotions, he sensed that Obito, when looking at him, saw the same helplessness he had once known.
Shared suffering—perhaps this was it.
The difference was that Nagato was fully aware, while Obito was still lost in the game, oblivious.
Who had used whom, who had betrayed whom, these were questions that could not be answered with a few words.
Yet, Obito would awaken eventually. His mask removed, chakra sealed, Nagato sat in the corner of the room, watching him jolt awake from the bed. Half ferocious, half handsome, his face was proof of his heroism and a testament to the unusual life of Uchiha Obito.
"Nagato, you betrayed me!"
At those words, Nagato felt a deep sorrow. Even now, Obito was still blinded by ignorance. Forcing a smile, he tossed a scroll to the still-unaware Obito.
Questions like why Yahiko had to die were meaningless; the answers were already clear. Having seen Obito's mind, Nagato knew exactly how to make him understand the truth swiftly and simply. The scroll merely recorded the periods when Madara manipulated the Mist ninja, and explained whether Yagura's will truly existed or not.
"This is a lie! You're lying! No! This isn't true, you can't fool me! I only controlled the Fourth Mizukage, only me!!!"
Obito's voice was frenzied as he grabbed Nagato's collar, tossing the scroll aside, refusing to believe a truth that, to many, would be terrifying. If not for the crimson Sharingan brimming with tears and despair, his words might have been tolerable. But the tears… were everywhere.
Nagato pulled his hands away. He had just destroyed a man's dream to keep living, much like how days ago, Kita had shattered his reason to live as Pain.
He understood. Obito's feelings were identical to what Nagato himself had experienced days ago.
Nagato remembered vividly the days that felt like living in a human hell.
"I won't kill you. I understand your pain."
"You understand nothing! You know nothing! You—"
"Yahiko… I killed him." Nagato faced the truth squarely, standing and clenching his fists. "I should have killed you, but you, like me, have lost the ones you most wanted to protect because Madara chose you." He felt powerless. Was it fate, or Madara's manipulation?
Only a pawn could truly understand the pain of another pawn.
"Madara is dead. Kita found his body. Itachi incinerated it with Amaterasu. The curse on your heart has been removed. Go or stay—I won't stop you."
But where could one go? There was no true path, no real return.
...
Rain poured heavily. Itachi sat in the corridor, watching the endless rain. Kisame seldom spoke of himself, but as someone who had massacred his own clan, Itachi felt he could understand him.
"…Liking or not liking, it's impossible to define—just as living or dying is impossible to feel. Where will I go? Where will I return? Is the truth of the events real, or is everything around me illusion? I don't know. Madara, Obito… they promised to create a new world. I really want to see it—not to live there, just to see what I truly desire. You've felt this too, haven't you, Itachi?"
He hadn't.
Itachi and Kisame differed fundamentally: one active, the other passive.
Itachi was the active killer of his clan, while Kisame was dragged into circumstances. Reason mattered little; the result was the same—the massacre—but the feeling of the perpetrator was different. Kisame had numbed himself, lost his identity. Itachi bore everything consciously. He believed he could understand the feeling. People needed reasons to continue living, even trivial ones. If Itachi's purpose was to protect Sasuke, Kisame's reason was Infinite Tsukuyomi. Just imagining losing Sasuke made Itachi struggle to breathe; losing Infinite Tsukuyomi, Kisame's despair was equally palpable.
"Essentially, it's different. I know what I want to do, what I'm waiting for, what I hope for. At least in this, I understand myself."
"But even so, you're still a worthless person who cannot decide your own path, just like me."
Kisame's words were biting. Previously, Itachi had spoken this way. After a pause, Itachi's reply was even sharper.
"It's not that I cannot decide where to go—it's that there's nowhere to go."
Extremely cutting. Kisame was wounded.
"Honestly, Infinite Tsukuyomi, ruling the world… I have no interest. Pain, Obito… all trying to change the world in their way, but isn't it ridiculous? No matter how much one tries, the world sees only the twisted struggles of insignificant insects. The world doesn't care. So-called world destruction is just humanity fighting itself. In essence, it's just a glorified reason to kill. The world laughs at humans' arrogance—they're just clowns."
Itachi's words cut even deeper. Kisame flinched.
"So human worries, human suffering… is just a farce?"
"Yes, but humans must continue to live. Even aimlessly, like walking corpses. If we die, nothing remains. But while alive, something good might happen."
"Do you believe that?"
Itachi nodded, lips curving upward.
"I do," he said, glancing at Kisame. "Though our stances differ, I waited until Obito revealed his true self. For me, that is good—a memory to recall in future painful days to change my mood."
"For me, it's just another painful memory," Kisame sighed. "I hate Kita. If she hadn't uncovered the truth, I'd at least have hope."
He was not alone in this thought. Nagato had felt similarly, and Obito likely did too.
"Everything has two sides. Unfortunately, in this event, you're on the negative side. But don't you think that's a chance?"
"What kind of chance?"
"A chance to live seriously." Itachi said earnestly and sincerely. "My purpose is to protect the village, to protect my brother. Madara made that impossible. But now, because of his failure, it's possible. Why would I not live seriously?"
"Stay, then?"
Itachi nodded.
"I have no home, no path to follow."
Kisame faltered, realizing even if Itachi was happy now, he, too, remained a pitiful person with nowhere to belong. He turned, picked up his sword and sat by the corridor putting on his shoes. Itachi thought he was leaving and was about to say goodbye—but Kisame's words came first.
"Go."
"Huh?"
"Go find Kita. I want to challenge her. You translate."
"That jutsu isn't finished yet."
"I need to vent somehow," Kisame said frankly. Itachi smiled, put on his wooden sandals, and opened the oiled-paper umbrella.
"Let's go."
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