[NTU] [ARC-26] Chapter : 348

The air in the Kamui dimension was suffocating—thick with tension, regret, and unspoken pain.

Kakashi and Obito stood face-to-face, eyes locked in a clash of wills. Where there was once camaraderie, now there was only hostility—and heartbreak.

Once brothers-in-arms, they now stood on opposite ends of their ideals, weapons drawn, muscles taut, breath shallow. Every movement, every flicker of chakra, was scrutinized as they searched for the faintest opening.

This place—detached from the world—felt haunted by their past. Each memory was a blade, carving into their resolve.

“It seems only one of us is walking out of here alive.”

Lightning crackled to life in Kakashi’s hand as he gripped his electrified kunai, his gaze fixed coldly on the man he once called friend.

“So it seems,” Obito answered, just as steady, chakra surging silently through his own form.

Time crawled. In this silent world, every second stretched unbearably long. Neither spoke. Neither blinked.

Then—

Swish!

They moved.

Two blurs of motion. Two souls with shared history, now set on a collision course.

Kakashi lunged with no hesitation, kunai glowing with Chidori’s signature hum. He didn’t bother with feints or finesse—just a direct, brutal thrust toward Obito’s heart.

There was no subtlety. No flair. Not the technique of Konoha’s “Copy Ninja.”

It was the strike of someone willing to die.

“Are you... trying to die with me?”

Obito’s Sharingan instantly caught the intent behind the reckless charge. He saw through it, understood it—and still didn’t move.

The sound of metal meeting flesh echoed through the dimension.

“Obito...”

Kakashi’s eyes widened in disbelief. Blood spilled across his vest, and he looked down to find a blade piercing under his arm.

He turned his head slowly toward his attacker. The orange, spiral-patterned mask obscured Obito’s face, but a trail of red slipped from the edge.

“My hand... must’ve slipped,” Obito muttered dryly, as if mocking the moment. His voice was steady, but the blood betrayed his wounds—and his pain.

“Why...?”

Kakashi’s kunai withdrew from Obito’s chest, shaking slightly in his grasp. This wasn’t how it was supposed to end.

He had known the Obito before him wasn’t the boy he once admired. He had accepted that. And yet, he had still hoped—still gambled everything on this final strike.

A hopeless wish to pull him back.

“Hrk—!”

Obito staggered, then coughed violently, blood spraying from his lips. His legs buckled as he dropped to one knee, chest heaving, a gaping wound in the center of his body.

“Heh...” His lips curled into a crooked smile. “This battle... isn’t over yet.”

Despite everything, he still clung to his warped purpose.

Kakashi stood over him, kunai loose in his hand. He should have felt victorious. Instead, all he felt was sorrow.

“Even now... you won’t stop?”

His voice was low, nearly broken. He hadn't stopped Obito from reclaiming the Sharingan. He hadn’t saved him. And now, he had nearly killed him.

Killing a comrade—even a fallen one—never got easier.

Obito slowly exhaled, eyes locking with Kakashi’s.

“So this is it... huh?” he whispered. Then, with what little strength he had left, he lifted his right hand—and ripped off the mask.

Clack.

It hit the ground and rolled once before lying still.

Kakashi’s breath caught as his gaze fell on the ruined face beneath—crisscrossed with scars, twisted by pain and time, yet unmistakably Obito.

The boy who once saved him.

The boy he failed to save in return.

As the battle’s aftermath settled like dust, Kakashi dropped to one knee across from his old friend, drained in every sense.

“How... did it come to this?”

The question hung unanswered in the empty space, echoing between two warriors bound by fate—and torn apart by it.

How could it come to this?

A once-kind young man. Two teammates who bickered constantly, yet regarded each other as irreplaceable companions.

How had everything fallen apart?

“This… is the fate of a shinobi.”

With those bitter words, Obito’s tightly shut left eye snapped open. From the hollow socket, a scarlet Sharingan spun to life—three tomoe glowing with fierce, ominous light.

Bang!!

The Obito who had moments ago been kneeling, bleeding out and awaiting death, vanished—only to reappear behind Kakashi in a blur.

“What—!? This is… impossible!”

Kakashi reeled as Obito struck the back of his head. Dazed, he barely had time to react before Obito’s arm snaked around his throat, locking in a crushing hold. Gasping, Kakashi clawed at the grip around his neck, confusion and disbelief clouding his thoughts.

He had landed a fatal blow. His Raikiri had pierced Obito’s heart. There was no way he could have survived… and yet, here he was.

“Nothing is impossible,” Obito growled. “I told you… this fight isn’t over.”

The grip around Kakashi’s neck tightened. The Sharingan in Obito’s left eye—once vibrant—was now faded, dim. Its light extinguished.

“And now... I’m just taking back what was truly mine.”

As Kakashi’s resistance weakened, Obito reached forward, fingers sliding across his face. A muffled groan escaped Kakashi as Obito dug into his eye socket.

Moments later, the Sharingan that once symbolized a broken friendship was gone—leaving only a hollow void in its place.

Kakashi collapsed to the ground, gasping for air.

“Haa... Haa…”

Struggling to breathe, he managed to tilt his head and rasp, “Why...? Why didn’t you kill me?”

He paused, wincing in pain, before adding, “And... what was that just now? It couldn’t have been a genjutsu…”

It had all happened in an instant—Obito rising from apparent death, attacking without warning. But Kakashi was certain: no illusion had deceived him.

Obito turned away, voice quiet.

“There’s no need to kill you,” he muttered. “In the world I’m going to create… Rin will be there. And so will you.”

A wisp of mist gathered in the corners of his eyes as he added, “As for what you saw… no, it wasn’t an illusion.”

“It was Izanagi—a forbidden Uchiha technique.”

“A genjutsu cast upon oneself. In exchange for a Sharingan, you can rewrite reality... and transform death into mere illusion.”

Kakashi’s eye widened in horror. “Izanagi…?”

He clutched at his empty eye socket, blood trickling down his face, and tried to rise—but his body refused. The prolonged battle, the sudden assault, and the loss of his eye had drained him to the core.

“Still trying to stand…” Obito narrowed his eyes, calculating the time it would take for his vision to recover.

“Obito… I won’t… let you…”

Kakashi’s voice cracked. His legs trembled. His fists clenched as if to summon the last spark of willpower.

But Obito scoffed coldly and cut him off.

“Enough.”

With a surge of chakra, the space around them rippled. The ground beneath Kakashi shimmered, distorted by Kamui’s pull.

A moment later, the space snapped back to normal—Kakashi gone.

“You’re injured. Rest.”

With Kakashi safely ejected from Kamui, Obito stood alone once more in the empty void, the silence pressing in around him.

His eye burned.

But his resolve burned hotter.

And now, there was no turning back.