If Promises Could Be Kept

Four

"There are things in life we don't want to happen but have to accept, things we don't want to know but have to learn, and people we can't live without but have to let go." – Unknown 

"Scream, bastard. I want to hear your scream and beg for your life. I want to see you grovel at my feet. Because I am stronger than you, Kakashi, and I always will be. You stole that Sharingan, it isn't yours, and I'm going to take back what's mine."

The killing intent radiating off of his former teammate was almost enough for a seasoned ninja like Kakashi to vomit. As it was, he shivered at the amount of pure, unaltered hate that rolled in waves off the man. His orange swirl mask had been lost a long time before while Kakashi had been engaged in a vicious battle with him, a fight to the death. It was still hard to believe that Obito Uchiha, the scorned black sheep of the prideful clan, had somehow turned out just as hateful and jaded as the man's leader, Madara. Either way, Kakashi had lost, unable to kill the man he'd wronged.

"What do you have to say for yourself?" Obito spat, amusement dancing in his half insane eyes. It didn't take an expert to realize the man wasn't quite right in the head, and that only fueled the flames of cruelty when it came to Kakashi's torture. But the silver-haired man only had one thing to say to Obito—one thing he hadn't been smart enough to say back in their Genin and Chuunin days.

He took a deep breath to gather his last shred of self-worth and whispered, "I was always jealous of you."

Kakashi had never admitted it to anyone, not even his teacher or his students. All his life, Kakashi, the supposed prodigy, had been jealous of Obito Uchiha. Anyone else would have laughed, brushed him off as if he were just pulling their leg, and insisted that, if anything, Obito should have been jealous of him. But the fact of the matter was that eleven years old Kakashi, at the time, had wished he'd been kicked out and ridiculed by Sakumo, told to fend for himself. He'd assumed that his father's suicide would've been easier had he hated the man, or at the very least indifferent. Unfortunately, the only other relationship that'd even come close to the one he'd had with his father was Minato-sensei.

Obito, however, might've been scorned and bullied by his clan, but at least he had a clan that didn't consist of only two members. And if for some reason one of them dies, Obito would never care or attend one of their funerals and cry like a baby. The eleven year old Kakashi had wished he could be as indifferent, even hateful, to his family as Obito. Besides, outside of his clan, Obito could make a friend out anybody. Kids, adults, civilians, ninja. Hell, he'd even made peace with Tora the demon cat for a brief stint of twenty minutes. Needless to say, it'd never been done before.

Apparently whatever Obito had expected, that certainly wasn't it. The man stilled and drew in a sharp breath, and for a second Kakashi thought he saw the flicker of the old Uchiha from twenty years ago—loud, annoying, always late, dead-last, and a great friend. I wish I'd realized how great you were Obito. Maybe this wouldn't have happened.

"You were... jealous? JEALOUS?" Obito shouted, his killing intent spiking again. This time, however, the man in front of him changed into a sixteen year old Naruto Uzumaki. Kakashi's heart clutched painfully at the sight of his greatest failure. He'd been tasked with ensuring Naruto's safety and wellbeing and he couldn't even teach the kid a single jutsu until he came back after training with Jiraiya. All the boy had ever wanted was to be treated with love and he had selfishly pushed Naruto away in attempt to settle his own feelings.

The blonde's jumpsuit was in tatters, his hair was streaked with blood and dirt, and his eyes were gouged out of his skull, blood trailing like tears down his cheeks. He was wearing a murderous expression with his elongated canines and twisted lips that finally put Kakashi over the edge and he emptied his stomach onto the ground.