Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto, nor do I have anything to do with its creation or its characters (though, honestly, I wish I did; don't we all?). If I did, do you really think I'd be writing this?

First of all, yes, I realize this story has been written before, and yes, it was me who wrote it last time. At some point, I lost inspiration and abandoned and deleted it. I changed my alias because I thought it was long and confusing, and I like this much better. I have a much better understanding of the Naruto world now, so I can be a lot more accurate on certain things I'd rather not point out about the old version of this fic. Also, I hope my writing's become better.

And... Enjoy!

Prologue

The gentle touch of the rain was all that Hatake Kakashi felt as he stared at the large memorial stone before him. His one eye, depicting loneliness and sorrow, continually read across three names, boring into the stone as if it showed him those three people themselves, forever asleep in the dark embrace called death.

Three names upon the stone, all surrounded by their fellow heroes, were all that mattered to the White-haired man.

Kazama Arashi. The Yondaime Hokage and Kakashi's sensei, who had sacrificed himself to save Konoha from the terror of the Kyuubi no Kitsune.

Iyasu Rin, former teammate and aspiring Medic-nin who had died on that same night to save countless others from death through overuse of medical jutsu.

And Uchiha Obito, the loudmouth failure of a shinobi who had died to protect Kakashi himself, and who had departed only after giving Kakashi his valuable Sharingan.

Kakashi sighed. Every morning and every night he stood there, reading through countless names, only to stop at those three. He told himself constantly that he paid respects to all those who died to protect others, all those who had sacrificed themselves for the good of the village, and even those who had lost their lives so others could complete their missions. In reality, though, he couldn't deny that he only cared about the three people he had considered most precious to him, even if he hadn't known it until they were gone.

Every time he came and paid his respects, one question continued to float to his mind. What if things had been different? What if all these people had not met the obstacles that brought about their deaths? What if the Kyuubi had never attacked Konoha and led to Yondaime's sacrifice? What if Rin had had more chakra to use, and had never exhausted herself to death?

And what if you, Obito, had been just a little stronger?

Sometimes, he even went as far as to imagine what life may have been like. But he only told himself the same thing in the end: they all would have died either way. All three of them had sacrificed themselves for the sakes of others: Yondaime and Rin to protect the village, and Obito to protect him. Even if circumstances had been different, they all would have done the same thing for the same purpose, and died nonetheless.

Imagination meant nothing in reality. It could soothe a mind, but not a heart. So Kakashi told himself as the same argument raged through his mind every morning and evening. But he still believed that, even if they had died nonetheless, things may have changed.

So what, Obito, would your life have been like, had you been that much stronger, I wonder?

---

12-year-old Uchiha Obito slowly awoke to a familiar shining light, feeling as if every muscle in his body had suddenly been overflowed with energy.