The snowstorm grew fiercer.
Gusts swept loose snow across the battlefield.
Bracing himself against the ground, Obito slowly struggled up from the snow.
His body was utterly depleted. Every movement tugged at his wounds, making him tremble with pain.
Yet he gritted his teeth and walked toward the rock face, one step at a time.
Toward Kakashi, who was pinned to it.
A trail of bloody footprints stretched across the snow.
They zigzagged unevenly, every step an agonizing struggle.
Everyone's eyes settled on Obito.
The frenzied cheers gradually faded.
Everyone held their breath and watched.
They watched the man who had started the Fourth Shinobi World War stagger toward his former brother-in-arms like a beaten stray.
Not a sound came from the crowd.
No one sympathized with him. No one pitied him.
They merely watched with cold eyes.
He had killed too many people and committed too many sins.
He had brought this fate upon himself.
Obito finally reached the rock face.
He stopped.
He raised his head and looked at Kakashi, pinned to the rock by the Black Rods.
Kakashi's face was deathly pale, his body covered in wounds, his breathing desperately weak.
His Sharingan remained open as he looked at Obito, his gaze filled with conflicting emotions.
Their eyes met.
The air seemed to freeze in that instant.
Wind and snow swept between them, stirring up blood and snow from the ground.
Obito's lips moved.
A hoarse, choked voice escaped his throat, barely audible.
"Kakashi."
That single name nearly exhausted all his strength.
The instant it left his lips, tears spilled uncontrollably down his face again.
Kakashi shuddered slightly.
Seeing the tears and blood covering Obito's face, he opened his mouth, wanting to say something.
But he swallowed the words before they could escape.
In the end, all