As a third party observer, Orochimaru had witnessed nearly everything that had happened to Kakashi. Naturally, he understood that the issue troubling Kakashi couldn't be solved by simply giving him another Sharingan.
That day, by coincidence, Obito suddenly appeared and took back the Sharingan he had once gifted Kakashi. For someone who had spent his life subconsciously avoiding the deaths of those closest to him, it forced Kakashi to finally confront a painful possibility.
Over the years, Obito hadn't exactly been subtle. On the contrary, many of his actions were reckless, even sloppy. The only reason his identity remained a secret for so long was the sheer utility of his space-time jutsu—Kamui. But now, with multiple clues converging, the veil had lifted. Obito had lost much of the mystery that once protected him.
Kakashi was smart. And smart people connect dots.
Same Mangekyō Sharingan. Same jutsu. Different eye. All those lingering questions were suddenly answered with a single, jarring event.
"But no matter how much Kakashi has figured out," Orochimaru murmured to himself, "we can't let him speak up—not yet."
He had his reasons.
Obito had no remaining ties to the village. His parents were gone, and after the Nine-Tails attack, any emotional attachment to Konoha had long been severed. Even if he were unmasked, it wouldn't benefit anyone. Worse, it could reignite tension with the Uchiha clan—relations that had only just begun to stabilize.
If it were the old Hokage, perhaps he would've exploited this to control the Uchiha. But Orochimaru had no interest in such petty manipulations.
He turned to Yamato and said calmly, "Where is Kakashi? Take me to him."
---
Kakashi lay sprawled on a soft tatami mat, arms and legs flung out, limp and motionless under the warm afternoon sun. Though the sunlight bathed his body in warmth, it did nothing to lift the heaviness in his heart.
"...Sharingan."
He pressed a hand lightly over his left eye. Though the searing pain from the day before had faded, the memory lingered. The hollow socket had since been replaced with a normal eye—no dōjutsu, no bloodline, no burden. Just an ordinary eye.
His combat efficiency had dropped, yes. But without the constant strain of the Sharingan, he was no longer bound to fight like an Uchiha. Logically, it was a good trade. But Kakashi wasn't just a shinobi—he was human. And emotionally, this felt like loss.
"Was that really… Obito?"
The thought had haunted him from the moment his eye was taken. There was no concrete proof—just fleeting impressions, and a gut feeling born of years on the battlefield.
"What… what should I do?"
Could he really march into the Hokage's office and say, I think the man behind the mask is Obito?
And what if he was wrong? What if he slandered the name of a man remembered as a fallen hero?
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.
A soft knock came from the courtyard, followed by a familiar voice: "Kakashi-senpai, Lord Orochimaru is here to see you."
"Yamato? Lord Orochimaru?" Kakashi stood abruptly. As he walked toward the door, unease coiled in his stomach. Why would Orochimaru come here?
He opened the door.
The warm sunlight poured in, forcing him to squint. But as Orochimaru stepped forward, his shadow blocked the light, casting a dark veil over Kakashi's face.
"I'll get straight to the point," Orochimaru said without preamble. "The masked Uchiha… is Obito."
Kakashi froze.
Then, his body trembled, as if struck by lightning.
After a long pause, he forced out a question: "Do you… have any proof?"
Orochimaru shook his head and stepped inside. "Not the kind of proof you're looking for. And that's not why I came."
He sat on a stone bench in the courtyard. "I'm here to make sure you stay quiet."
Kakashi blinked. "Why?"
"There's no need to explain."
Orochimaru's voice was low but unwavering. "I know someone like you—someone who once trusted Obito—might be clinging to some fantasy. That maybe this isn't his true will. That maybe he can be saved."
"But it doesn't matter anymore. The masked man led the Nine-Tails attack. He killed the Fourth Hokage. He's responsible for the deaths of countless Konoha shinobi."
"In the eyes of this village, he's already an enemy that must be destroyed."
Kakashi's expression darkened. Orochimaru wasn't wrong.
Just days ago, he would've given his life to kill the man behind the Nine-Tails Rebellion. But now… he hesitated.
It wasn't that his hatred had disappeared. It wasn't that the lives lost didn't matter.
It was that he knew—deep down—Obito wasn't that kind of person.
After a long silence, he asked, "Lord Orochimaru… do you know why Obito did this?"
Even as he asked, Kakashi knew it was absurd. Identifying Obito was one thing. Understanding his motives? That was another level entirely.
Orochimaru only smiled.
"You've seen death up close. You've lived through war. So let me ask you—if you were given the chance to bring back everyone you lost, even if it meant sacrificing half the village, would you do it?"
Kakashi didn't hesitate. "No. I wouldn't."
"Even if they came back in a dream?" Orochimaru's eyes gleamed. "A world where your loved ones are alive, and you live peacefully beside them?"
Kakashi frowned. "A dream? That's not the same as resurrection."
"That's exactly it," Orochimaru said, amused. "Some people are content with dreams. They take illusions as truth."
Kakashi's face grew grim. "Are you saying… the masked man believes that?"
Even now, he still couldn't bring himself to call the masked man Obito.
"Ninety-nine percent sure," Orochimaru replied. "Everything he's doing—it's part of the Eye of the Moon Plan. A plan designed by Madara himself."
"A plan Obito is now carrying out."
Kakashi was speechless.
So that was it. All of this—for Rin.
Orochimaru continued, "Obito never tried to bring her back with the Rinnegan. He could have sacrificed himself, or manipulated Nagato to do it. But he didn't."
"He was afraid. Afraid she'd return and see what he's become."
"The only world where Rin can live happily, without judgment or bloodshed, is a world that isn't real."
"A dream."
"And he's trying to drag everyone into that dream."
Kakashi couldn't respond.
He understood now. And it hurt.
"I'll tell you this, Kakashi," Orochimaru said coldly. "Whatever friendship you had—Obito is now your enemy. He's the enemy of this village. Your roles are fixed. There is no middle ground."
Orochimaru didn't lecture about right or wrong. He didn't care about morals. He only cared about results.
"If you agree with his path, follow him. If not, do what must be done."
"And don't think you can persuade him to stop."
He turned away. "The Nine-Tails attack wasn't just his declaration of war—it was the moment he fully let go of the world."
There's no bringing back the dead. No perfect resurrection. And even if such a miracle existed, the person resurrected wouldn't be the same.
Kakashi stood in silence.
Could he really try to bring Obito back? Could he forgive the one responsible for so much pain?
No. He couldn't. And he had no right to.
"That's all I have to say."
Orochimaru stood, casting one last glance back. "Obito's name will stay on the Memorial Stone. Because the boy who died at Kannabi Bridge… really did die there."
Kakashi gave a silent nod.
With that, Orochimaru left.
Yamato lingered for a moment, regretting ever opening this emotional wound, then followed Orochimaru out.
---
Meanwhile, outside the Hokage's temporary office, a stir had broken out.
Sarutobi Hiruzen watched as the strange creature—its limbs and tongue restrained—was brought forward.
"This guy… Orochimaru really knows how to hand me a headache."
Unlike Orochimaru, Hiruzen had lived long enough to see the weirdest things in the shinobi world. Ghosts, yokai, spirits—he'd seen them all.
Still, a kappa, this close to Konoha, was unexpected.
He took a long drag from his pipe.
In the era before the Warring States, wars and deaths gave rise to lingering spiritual energy. When combined with leyline energy, they birthed monsters and spirits that plagued shinobi clans.
But those days were long gone.
Natural energy had become scarce. Fewer people studied senjutsu. And with no new monsters forming, old legends faded away.
But now… things were changing.
After a moment of thought, Hiruzen nodded.
"Orochimaru's assessment is correct. We need to consult the shrine maiden of the Land of Demons."
He remembered that when Konoha was first founded, the miko from that land had come to bless the village. Now, it seemed time to call on that ancient power again.
Without delay, he left the office and entered the communications wing. When Pain attacked, this building had been spared, and it still housed the team responsible for foreign affairs.
"Contact the High Priestess of the Land of Demons," he ordered.
"Yes, Lord Hokage!"
The team quickly got to work. Within a quarter of an hour, the connection was made.
A hazy image of the priestess, Mareya, appeared on the screen.
"Lord Hokage," she said, hands clasped together. "What does the Land of Fire need from the Land of Demons?"
Hiruzen exhaled, then spoke with gravity.
"We've encountered something... unusual. A creature called a kappa—right on our doorstep."
_____________________
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