Nineteen- Naruto

Being stared down by three pairs of fully matured sharingan eyes wasn't something many people survived to tell about; in fact, just one set of them was usually enough to seal your fate. Kakashi had a hard time believing these were Obito's family members. His teammate had been endlessly cheerful, irritatingly so. He'd been a failure as a ninja, too emotional, too cowardly. (Not too cowardly when it counted, though.) (Those who disobey the regulations and let themselves be ruled by emotion are trash.) (Those who abandon their teammates are worse than trash.)

Kakashi ordered the voices in his head to be silent. Showing any sort of weakness before the Uchiha clan heads would mean death.

And Obito would be pissed if he died. (It would serve you right.) (Worse than trash.) (What a waste...)

Shut up! His left eye- Obito's eye- began to water slightly. (Sorry, we're sorry, there's something in our eye.) (There's always something in our eye, such a fucking cry baby, useless excuse for a ninja...) (You forgot our eyedrops, didn't you? You'll have to pick up some more, 'Baa-san on the corner makes the best, she'll give them to you for a discount.) Quiet. They calmed down, for a moment.

The Uchiha stood over him, eyes spinning slowly, lazily. Sensei had said they couldn't do anything; this hearing was simply a formality. Families had to guard their bloodlines, after all, and it was simply unheard of for an Uchiha to simply give something away, much less something so important. They were stingy around normal people.

Take a good look at those eyes, Sensei, and tell me again that they can't do anything. You can't protect us all. (He'll try. He was good to us.) (Not that you deserved it.)

"Hatake Kakashi, you are accused of the murder of your teammate, Uchiha Obito. How do you plead?" The clan head's voice was low, confident, and almost amused. You're not going to survive this, brat.

One of his father's temmates had been an Uchiha. "Not guilty." (We could kill them.)

"Hatake Kakashi, you are accused of the theft of the sharingan eye of your teammate, Uchiha Obito. How do you plead?" The branch-family head was no less confident, but his voice was stern. You thought you could get away with this? Fool.

(We should kill them.) Had he knelt before a tribunal like this, accused of risking the village for his own stupid sentimentalism? "Not guilty." (Kill them for what they did to father.)

"Hatake Kakashi, you are accused of breaking Law Twenty-five, endagering your mission and all of Hidden Leaf because of it. How do you plead?" The second branch head vibrated with barely suppressed rage and scorn. How dare you?

(I think the White Fang was a hero.) His father might have been proud- but his father was dead. "Guilty."

(No matter what they say...I believed in you. No matter what.) It was a shame he couldn't believe in himself.

There was something in his throat. Something in his eye, too, and rocks were falling, too fast to see, landing in his blindspot. His chest ached.

"Tell us how Obito died." Three points in the sharingan, one for the mind, body, and spirit.

"Tell us how you came by his eye." Three points, one for each of the people he'd failed.

"Tell us how you failed your teammates, your sensei, your mission, your home." One for everyone he'd trusted.

"Tell us." Sensei.

"Tell us." Obito.

"Tell us." Rin.

Bile in the back of his throat choked any answers he might have spoken, had he any answers for them. He bit his tongue to hold back a scream.

"You kneel before us, a thief and a murderer, and yet you have the gall to keep your face covered?"

(I am a ninja. Weakness is unacceptable.) (I know I'll always be a loser...) (There's something in my eye.) Whose eye?

"Remove your mask." He could not move. They removed it for him.

They might as well have stripped him naked. Tears poured from Obito's eye. (I didn't mean it! I didn't want to die!) (I couldn't leave her, she was our friend.) (You were our friend!) (I don't deserve to be a jounin. I'm not a ninja at all.)

"Shut up," he whispered, touching the tears. They weren't his- he never cried, not even when he knew no one could see him. "Stop talking to me." This was his fault- all his fault. He would face this alone. (Father died alone.) SHUT UP.

The voices were silent. He ignored Obito's tears and explained, for the seventh time in half as many days, what happened.

The Uchiha were not impressed. "We had heard of you before, Hatake Kakashi. You are called a genius by many- in our opinion, you resemble your father too much."

The spinning wheels of three sets of sharingan held him fixed in place. Otherwise, he would have gone for the throat.

"We cannot order your execution, even if your guilt is clear to us. Konoha cannot afford losing any of its jounin, particularly not after losing one of its valuable healers as well." (See? Sensei was right.) (They'd be better off killing you.)

"Your theft of the sharingan is made tolerable only by the knowledge that you will be unable to master it properly, and it will prove a distraction that will eventually cause your death."

(Even my family thinks I'm a loser.) (That's not true.) (It's not like there aren't dozens of other, better Uchiha to take my place.) Kakashi was starting to regret accepting Obito's gift. Do you want me to remove you with a kunai? (You'd never get all of us.) I could try.

"You will be kept under close supervision while in the village."

"You will be given only low rank missions until your trustworthiness has been proven."

"You will be given one week to decide whether or not you wish to keep Uchiha Obito's eye and all the consequences that accompany it."

"It's your fault they're dead."

He bit his tongue and looked up sharply, not caring if he was being rude. They hadn't actually said that, had they? The three clan heads stood as still, silent and foreboding as statues. "I will abide by your decisions." Abide by the laws and regulations, or you will be nothing but trash. You're a disgrace, worthless, shameful. (We never thought so.) Who are you? (You can see with us.)

"Of course you will."

Red eyes whirled around him, too fast to see.

"Murderer."

"Thief."

"Trash."

Humiliation burned like a knife through the eye. Whose eye?

(He's not!) (We saved him, it wasn't his fault!) (Liars!)

It's okay. It's not worth it. They're right. There was blood in his mouth, where he'd bitten his tongue. (They're not.) (They are.)

At some point, he'd been left alone in the room, and his knees were starting to ache.

(Are we okay?)

No.

His left eye was tearing again. He rubbed at it, wearily, and replaced his mask. Things could be worse. Sensei was still alive, and maybe when the war was over, they could hang out and...eat ramen, or something. Talk about stuff. He wasn't really sure how these things were supposed to go, wasn't used to the ettiquette of mourning. Ninja didn't mourn, didn't feel emotion, didn't cry.

(We did. We're sorry.)

Kakashi stumbled out of the Uchiha complex, forehead protector askew. He felt like he'd been taken apart and not put back together quite right. He'd go home, and sleep, and tomorrow things would be back to normal. He hadn't slept in nearly a week.

On his way home, though, he'd have to get some of those eyedrops. His right eye was itching now, too.

He stopped by the grave marker, instead, and the voices were silent.