Chapter Text
The room seemed distant, it sounded muffled as if a thick curtain had been drawn between him and everything else. A clock on the wall ticked away, each second a reminder of time slipping through his fingers. The TV screen flickered, casting a soft, article glow across the dimly lit living room. Obito sat on the couch, which felt too soft now, voices echoed through the room from the TV. He watched their lips move, their expressions shift, but their words didn’t reach him.
Felt a weight next to him leaning softly on his side, the person engrossed in his own world. His fingers danced across his smartphone’s screen, sending messages, and scrolling through social media. Every so often, a chuckle or a sigh of amusement would escape his lips. Everything felt so suffocating.
“I believe this isn’t going to work anymore,” Obito murmured, his gaze averted from the man beside him, acutely aware of the tension that gripped them both now.
Kakashi beside him cast a puzzled glance, his brow furrowing. “What do you mean Obito?”
The older one sighed, the weight of his words settling heavily on his shoulders. “This doesn’t work out. I mean...us. This. It’s not working Kakashi and I can’t do it anymore.”
Obito’s words now hanging heavy in the air, a heavy cloud of tension enveloping them both. The room felt even more stifling. Kakashi’s gaze remained fixed on the Uchiha for a moment, his eyes revealing a tumultuous mix of emotion. “Did I do something wrong Obito...? I know I screw things up sometimes, but I can fix this. I want to fix it and I can be better, I promise I will do better.”
Obito’s brows furrowed, a mixture of frustration and hurt welling up with him. Had expected the younger one to understand, to see the cracks that formed between them. “It’s not about something you did wrong, Kakashi,” he retorted, his voice tinged with a hint of anger. “It’s about this whole relationship. It’s suffocating me. It’s about how I always feel like I’m fumbling in the dark with you. I never know what you’re thinking. You shut me out, again and again. I keep asking myself what I’m supposed to do, how I’m supposed to reach you when you won’t even let me in.”
Kakashi’s eye widened slightly, his brows knitting together. “Suffocating? What do you mean?”
Obito’s hands clenched into fists, his frustration boiling over. “I mean, I can’t breathe, Kakashi! You’re so damn clingy. It feels like I am living the same day again and again. We fight about the same things again and again. You did this, Kakashi. You’re the one who kept us in this stagnant, suffocating routine. You’re the one who never wanted to step out of our damn comfort zone. Never even tried.”
He took a breath, trying to steady himself, but the words came pouring out. “I feel like I’m the only one who’s trying. The only one actually fighting for this by being honest, by talking. But I can’t keep doing it alone. I can’t keep dragging words out of you every time there’s a problem. You never open up, Kakashi. I bring things up again and again, but you just... shut down. You don’t listen.”
Kakashi’s jaw tightened, a hint of defensiveness creeping into his voice. “I didn’t realize you felt this way Obito. I thought we were content.”
Obito’s laugh was bitter, laced with a sense of cynicism. “You didn’t realize it? Content? Is that what you call it? Sitting here, night after night, watching the world pass us by? Our friends are out there building memories, having adventures, and we’re... we’re just here. It's like there's a wall between us. I never know what you're thinking, and it feels like you keep everything to yourself. I feel like I'm on one side of a barrier, and you're on the other. When did we let it come to this.”
“I thought we enjoyed spending time together, Obito. I thought this was what we both wanted. All I hear from you is your endless whining.”, Kakashi’s voice grew stern, his own frustration rising to meet Obito’s anger, getting even more sharper. “All I ever get from you lately is complaining. Nothing’s ever good enough, is it? You talk about trying, about effort, but all I hear is you tearing everything apart the moment it doesn’t feel perfect.”
Obito’s voice rose, his anger boiling over. “Don’t put this on me, I tried so much, and you know that! You wanted this Kakashi, not me. I want more than this! I want to experience life, to feel alive. But you... you are holding me back, you are holding us back, because you’re too damn afraid of everything!
He took a shaky breath, then continued, his voice trembling with frustration, “And no, it’s not perfect, Kakashi, it hasn’t been for weeks. We keep fighting, always circling the same arguments, and every time you get cold, defensive... or worse, you twist my words and make me the villain for wanting something more!
If you think that asking how you feel and what is going on with you is whining, then what am I supposed to do? Not ask and not care. Is this a relationship for you?" With that he stepped back slightly, the weight of his words landing hard between them.
“I didn’t realize you were so unhappy, I just... I care about you. I never meant to make you feel that way.” Kakashi’s gaze looking onto Obito was a mixture of hurt and defiance.
Obito’s voice softened slightly, his anger giving way to a weary frustration. “I know you care, Kakashi. But caring doesn’t mean you have to hold onto me so tightly that I can’t even breathe. That I must be in a constant state of worry, of feeling bad again, if I just ask how you are feeling. I just can’t do this anymore and I don’t want to. I think we are both holding us back, just standing on the same spot not getting anywhere, we are just stuck in this unhappy cycle.”
He could see the tears starting to gather in Kakashi’s eyes and saw how hard Kakashi tried to hold himself together. But Kakashi’s defense crumbled, a tear sliding down his cheek. Brushed he it away quickly, struggling to regain control. “Is this truly what you want? Do you really mean all of this?”
“Yes, it is,” Obito said finally.
∼*∽
The sun hung low on the horizon, casting a warm, golden hue over the apartment complex. Obito stood at the entrance, his eyes fixed on the sky. His expression was a mix of relief and contentment, a stark contrast to the heaviness that had weighed on him for weeks.
A gentle breeze rustled the leaves of the nearby trees, and Obito closed his eyes, letting the cool air wash over him. It felt like a balm for his soul. The wind played with his hair and caressed his face.
He took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the crisp and clean air. It was as if he had been holding his breath for months, and now, he could finally exhale. The weight of the breakup, the lingering doubts, and the pain had slowly dissipated, leaving behind a sense of lightness he had forgotten.
As he opened his eyes, Obito noticed children playing in the nearby park, their laughter filling the air. The sound was infectious, and a smile crept onto his face. For the first time in a long while, he felt like himself again, happy and unburdened.
He took a step forward, away from the apartment complex, toward the uncertain but exciting future that awaited him. The breakup, though painful, had freed him from a relationship that no longer served him, and he was determined to make the most of his newfound freedom.
It was not like he hated Kakashi in any way and he just knew they weren’t meant for each other. He wished him the best at the end. And thanked him for how easily Kakashi took this all in and accepted it. It could have been messier.
As Obito continued to walk, he couldn’t help but hum a happy tune. The breeze continued to play with his hair, and he knew that, no matter what lay ahead, he was going to be just fine.
∼*∽
It was Friday evening, and Obito knew some of his friends were meeting up at the cozy little bar near campus. Normally, he would have been the first to show up, laughing too loudly, buying the first round. But tonight, just like on so many other nights before, he didn’t go. Neither did Kakashi.
They had skipped plans like these more times than Obito could count, mostly because Kakashi had always pulled away from crowded and noisy spaces. Bars, parties, big gatherings, those things which made him visibly uncomfortable. He preferred the quiet. A book in his hand, a dimly lit room, the low hum of music in the background, that was Kakashi’s kind of night. Not the sharp clink of glasses, the bursts of drunken laughter, or the whirlwind of bodies moving to a beat. Which was perfectly fine, of course.
Obito had accepted that for a long time. He had told himself it was okay to slow down, to match Kakashi’s pace. But lately, he found himself wondering, when was the last time he danced? When was the last time he let loose, let himself be loud and messy and alive without worrying if someone next to him was overwhelmed by it?
He couldn’t remember.
He missed it. The glow of city lights on his skin. The rush of music pulsing through his chest. The random conversations with strangers that turned into weird memories. The freedom.
And most of all, he missed feeling like himself.
Their differences had always been there, quiet, subtle. But over time, they had begun to take up more and more space between them. In the end, it was those quiet incompatibilities that played a significant role in why Obito chose to walk away.
He often felt like Kakashi's aversion to spontaneity, to noise, to the unknown, was holding him back. Obito craved life in its loudest forms, nights that bled into morning, unplanned adventures, new faces and new places. With Kakashi, it felt like he was always shrinking himself to fit into a quieter world. A world that wasn’t his.
The gap between them, once easy to bridge, had become a widening divide. Obito, ever the extrovert, thrived on connection and movement. Kakashi, the eternal introvert, sought comfort in silence and solitude. Eventually, they weren’t just walking side by side, they were walking in different directions entirely.
So, after weeks of quiet reflection and unspoken frustration, Obito made the hardest decision he’d made in a long time: to let go. Not out of anger. Not even out of pain. But out of the quiet, steady realization that staying would mean losing pieces of himself. And deep down, he knew, it was the right choice. For both of them.
The evening sun had set, and the cozy bar’s warm lights spilled out onto the bustling street. Obito pushed open the door to the cozy bar, and a wave of warmth and laughter washed over him. The familiar faces of his friends came into view with their animated conversations. He felt a mix of happiness and relief as he approached their table.
Anko spotted him first. She grinned wide, eyes glinting with mischief as she raised her glass slightly in his direction.
“Well, well, look who decided to crawl out of his cave. Uchiha Obito in the flesh,” she teased, leaning back in her chair. “Don’t tell me Kakashi’s here too? Did he finally give in to your dramatic begging?”
Obito let out a soft breath, his smile faltering for a second. As he stepped closer, his heart started to pound as the weight of what he was about to say settled in his chest. He hadn't planned to tell them tonight, but now that he was here, now that they were looking at him with warm in their eyes, he realized he needed to get it out.
He slid into the empty seat beside Kurenai, pausing a moment to gather his thoughts. Then, with a quiet but steady voice, he spoke:
“Actually... there’s something I need to tell you.” He looked around the table, meeting each of their gazes in turn. “Kakashi and I... we broke up.”
For a moment, silence blanketed the table. The clinking of glasses and chatter from the rest of the bar continued in the background, but within their little circle, everything stood still.
Kurenai reached out first, her voice soft and sincere.
“Oh, Obito... I’m so sorry. That can’t be easy. Are you okay?”
Obito gave a small nod, grateful for the kindness in Kurenai’s voice.
“There’s no need to worry,” he said quietly, but with conviction. “It wasn’t dramatic or messy. We just... realized we were heading in different directions. That’s all. I just thought you should know.”
His words lingered in the air for a moment before the group seemed to silently agree it was best not to press further. No awkward questions followed, no heavy sympathy, just the unspoken understanding that sometimes, people grow apart. Gradually, the conversation shifted, flowing naturally back into the familiar rhythm of casual jokes and shared stories.
As the laughter picked up around him again, Obito leaned back in his chair, letting it wash over him like warm sunlight after a long storm. The buzz of voices, the occasional bursts of laughter, he hadn’t realized just how much he had missed this. Not just being around people but being himself in a space that didn’t feel heavy. Didn’t feel tight.
He caught himself smiling at a joke Genma made, not even fully hearing the punchline. The joy in the moment was enough.
In the quiet corners of his mind, he knew, without bitterness or regret, that he had made the right choice.
Letting go of Kakashi hadn’t been easy. It still wasn’t. But sitting here now, surrounded by warmth and light and people who saw him without needing to decode him, he felt something he hadn’t in a long time: peace.