A vast stretch of time slipped by in silence, and before anyone realized it, ages had already passed.
What had once begun as a single turning point had now expanded into an era where even the stars could no longer mark the flow of time.
From the depths of outer space, a planet resembling Earth drifted quietly in the darkness.
Yet in the palm of Obito's hand, it looked no larger than a stone. His figure had become unimaginably enormous, so immense that he seemed to tower over the world itself, and within his body, countless galaxies shimmered and revolved as though the cosmos had taken human form.
With Shibai gone and no one left to restrain him, Obito had completely cast aside all hesitation.
He became obsessed with devouring and merging with everything in existence. It did not matter whether it was a single planet, an entire solar system, or something far greater. As time passed, even galaxies were consumed by him one after another.
He stopped only when there was nothing left in existence for him to merge with. In the end, the entire universe had become a part of him. If Obito had to describe his current state, then there was only one answer: he was the universe, and the universe was him.
At that moment, Tobi's voice suddenly echoed through the endless void.
"The captain finally did it…"
His tone carried a strange mixture of awe and mischief.
"You can really blow up the universe now, Captain! How about it? To celebrate, just blow it up!"
"..."
The silence that followed was almost heavier than the universe itself.
Then White Zetsu's voice came from another direction, flat and merciless.
"Idiot."
"Eh?"
White Zetsu continued without the slightest hesitation. "The captain has already merged with the universe. If he blows it up now, what exactly do you think he's blowing up?"
Tobi went quiet.
A moment later, he slowly said, "Himself?"
"Congratulations. Your brain finally worked once."
"That was rude!"
Tobi crossed his arms, sounding deeply wronged. "I was only trying to create atmosphere! A man reaches the peak of the universe, so naturally there should be fireworks!"
White Zetsu sneered. "You really are hopeless."
Obito stood in the center of the boundless darkness, listening to the two of them argue and let out a faint sigh.
"Some things really don't change."
Tobi immediately became energetic.
"Captain! You heard me! So, what do you think? Since you've already become the universe, shouldn't we shake it up a little? Maybe make all the stars spin into the shape of my face?"
Obito did not answer the absurd proposal right away. His gaze drifted down to the world resting in his palm, and he stared at it in silence for a long time.
Then, as if he had finally reached the end of his thoughts, Obito spoke in a calm voice.
"It's about time we head back."
Tobi's attention was instantly drawn away. He lifted a hand and scratched his chin.
"Head back, huh…"
His usual playful voice softened, if only slightly.
"Now that you mention it, I really do miss Sasuke-kun and the others."
Even White Zetsu, who had been quiet until then, gave a small nod.
"I was starting to feel homesick too."
Tobi turned to him in surprise.
"Oh? You can feel homesick?"
White Zetsu looked at him flatly.
"Unlike you, I have normal emotions."
Tobi immediately raised his voice in protest.
"My emotions are perfectly normal! I just express them with a little more passion!"
Obito closed his eyes for a moment.
A faint, helpless smile touched his face.
No matter how far he traveled, no matter how high he climbed, their banter never changed.
Perhaps that was exactly why he had never forgotten the place he wanted to return to.
"Very well," Obito said.
"Let's go home."
...
In the Ninja World, the flow of time had not matched the endless path Obito crossed.
He had sent them to a world where years moved differently, and by the time his promise reached its end, this world had already stepped into an age of future technology, towering cities, and lights that never slept.
In one of those cities, inside a quiet apartment high above the streets, a little girl stood outside a closed door.
She had long blue hair streaked with pink, the ends styled into distinct loops that framed her small face. Her hands were clasped tightly in front of her, her fingers trembling against one another no matter how hard she tried to hold still.
A moment later, a woman stepped out from the room and looked at her gently.
"You can go see them now."
She hurried forward with swift steps and threw the door open.
Standing outside was her mother, holding a baby boy in her arms.
"Eida, you're here…"
Her mother smiled gently, then added, "Don't just stand there. Don't you want to meet your little brother? Come here."
Eida stepped closer with stiff, trembling legs. Her eyes shimmered with tears as she approached, her gaze fixed on the child in her mother's arms.
Almost unconsciously, she asked, "What… what's my brother's name?"
Her mother looked a little surprised by the question. After thinking for a moment, she answered softly, "Daemon."
The moment Eida heard that name, the tears in her eyes finally spilled over.
Her mother grew confused. "Eida? What's wrong?"
Eida quickly shook her head and wiped at her tears.
"It's nothing," she said, forcing a small smile.
"I'm just… too happy."
But Eida knew.
With her memories still intact, she understood the truth.
"He" had kept his promise.
"He" had remembered her.
...
At the same time, in another part of the city.
At the very center of the sleepless metropolis stood a towering building that rose above everything around it.
Inside the highest room of that tower, the atmosphere was warm and peaceful.
Konan stood near the wide window, her gaze resting on the glowing city beneath them.
Beside her, a little girl gently held her hand.
The child had inherited Obito's white hair and quiet eyes, but there was a softness in her expression that clearly came from Konan.
Around them, several other children were gathered as well.
Terumi Mei, Yugao, Pakura, Tsunade, Shizune, Kushina, and the others were also present.
Uchiha Izumi, Uchiha Mikoto, Kurenai, Hinata, Karin, and several more remained nearby, quietly watching over the children.
"Mommy…"
A small voice broke the quiet.
Konan lowered her gaze.
The little girl beside her was holding her hand tightly, her small fingers wrapped around Konan's as she asked in a soft, careful voice,
"What kind of person was Daddy?"
The moment those words fell, the atmosphere in the room changed.
The other children, who had been playing or pretending not to listen, all turned their heads at almost the same time. Some looked purely curious, some were hesitant, and some had already leaned forward without realizing it.
Konan froze for a moment caught off guard by the sudden question.
Then, almost instinctively, she glanced toward the other women in the room.
For a brief moment, all of them wore nearly the same expression.
Awkward.
How were they supposed to explain him?
How were they supposed to tell these children about their "great" father?
A man who had stood above the shinobi world.
A man who had done things so absurd, so terrifying, and so impossible that now trying to describe him properly to their own children felt extremely difficult.
Before anyone could answer, another child raised their head and asked in a small voice,
"Mama… what was Papa like? Can you tell us?"
The room fell even quieter and a strange atmosphere began to spread.
Seeing the adults hesitate, the little girl holding Konan's hand became nervous. Her fingers tightened. Her shoulders trembled slightly, but she still gathered what little courage she had.
Then she clenched her fists, shut her eyes, and shouted,
"I want to know!"
Her voice trembled, but she forced herself to continue.
"I want to know about Dad!"
After saying that, all the courage she had gathered seemed to vanish at once. She squeezed her eyes shut even harder, as if afraid she had said something wrong.
The women looked at one another.
Different emotions flickered across their faces.
Mei's teasing smile softened as she quietly looked away. Yugao stayed composed, though the calm in her eyes carried a warmth so deep it felt faintly unsettling.
Pakura crossed her arms and breathed out faintly, looking as though she found the whole situation both troublesome and nostalgic.
Tsunade clicked her tongue under her breath and rubbed her forehead, as if remembering Obito alone was enough to bring back a dozen headaches.
Shizune could only offer a gentle, helpless smile, while Kushina's expression wavered between amusement and something far more complicated.
No one spoke immediately.
Because for them, Obito was not a simple memory.
He was the man who had made them angry, worried them, protected them, left them waiting.
Finally, feeling the eyes around her settle on her, Konan understood that the others had silently left this role to her. She let out a quiet breath, then bent down and gently brushed her daughter's hair back with her fingers.
"Well…"
The children leaned closer almost immediately.
Their eyes were bright.
Their breathing even seemed to grow lighter.
Seeing that, Konan could not help but chuckle softly.
"Well, your dad was…"
At that very moment, outside the room, a figure appeared at the far end of the corridor—yet not a single person had sensed his presence.
[To Obito life was a frail, delicate thing.
If he were to compare it to something, he'd say life would be a canvas, one that starts off as completely blank with only a smidge of red paint adorning it.]
Konan paused on purpose.
The children stared at her without blinking.
Konan smiled.
"He was the coolest man in the world."
The children's eyes widened.
Konan continued, her voice growing warmer.
"The most handsome."
"And the strongest."
Outside the room, Obito stepped forward. His feet made no sound on the corridor floor as he quietly advanced toward their location.
[As a person's life passes, however, it is only natural that that painting, once as white as the wool of a sheep, would become more colorful, the colors representing the creation of their passions, desires, hopes, dreams, skills, and, most of all, relationships.
Eventually, the painting that is their life will grow into one that is full of color, turning into an image designated only and specifically for them, being completely different compared to another's, shaped by their choices, their meetings, their mistakes, and the paths they refused to abandon.]
The moment those words fell, the children exploded into excitement.
"Really, Mama?! Papa was the most handsome?!"
"Was he really the coolest?!"
"The strongest too?!"
"Stronger than everyone?"
One boy, who had been sitting a little farther away and pretending he was not interested, suddenly looked up.
His eyes flashed.
"…The strongest?"
His voice was quiet, but there was no hiding the interest in it.
Obito's steps slowed for a moment. Hearing those excited words, a faint smile touched his face.
[But Obito did not believe that a life only found meaning after death.
A painting left behind could become a memory. It could become proof that someone had existed. But no matter how many people remembered it, the one who had died could no longer add another color to it. They could no longer erase a stain, cover a mistake, or paint over the regrets carved into their heart.]
The children immediately crowded closer, throwing out questions one after another.
"What kind of jutsu did Papa use?"
"Was Daddy a hero?"
"Did everyone know him?"
"Was he scary?"
"Did he protect you, Mama?"
The mothers looked at the children surrounding them, their faces full of helpless smiles.
For a moment, none of them knew where to begin.
Because Obito was not someone who could be explained with just one answer.
To some, he had been a nightmare.
To some, a savior.
To some, a man who had carried sins too heavy for any ordinary person to bear.
Obito had already stopped outside the door, but his hand did not rise immediately. For now, he simply listened in silence, quietly taking in their expectations of him.
[That was why, to Obito, living mattered.
As long as a person was alive, their canvas was not finished. Even if it had been ruined, even if it had been soaked in blood, even if every color had been twisted into something ugly, there was still a chance to change it. A chance to reach out. A chance to atone. A chance to create a future different from the one they once accepted.]
Tsunade let out a long breath and muttered,
"If we start telling them everything, we'll be here until morning."
Yugao smiled.
"Would that be so bad?"
Pakura glanced at her.
"You just want to exaggerate the parts where he looked impressive."
Mei covered her lips and laughed softly.
"Ara, but he was impressive."
Kushina folded her arms and nodded as if that much could not be denied.
"We'll tell you about your father."
Once Konan took the first step, it was as if a switch had been flipped. The others began speaking up one after another, each describing him in their own way.
Kaguya Ōtsutsuki, who had been sitting quietly to the side, was not spared.
At first, she had no intention of speaking. She only watched the children from a distance, her pale eyes calm and unreadable.
But one of the children suddenly turned toward her.
"Mama…"
Kaguya's gaze shifted down.
The child looked at her with bright, expectant eyes.
"What about you? What kind of person was Papa?"
The corner of Kaguya's mouth twitched almost imperceptibly.
Obito?
What kind of person was he?
Reckless. Shameless. Arrogant. Absurdly confident.
Those were the first answers that came to mind.
But when she saw the child staring at her so earnestly, Kaguya swallowed those words back.
After a long pause, she slowly said,
"He was…"
Kaguya's expression remained as cold and elegant as ever, but for some reason, she seemed to be trying very hard.
"He was a very… extraordinary man."
For Kaguya Ōtsutsuki, that was already the highest praise she could give.
Even Karin joined in, exaggerating the smallest details to absurd heights. As for the children, they could not understand the more complicated jokes, but they still understood the parts that mattered most.
He was amazing.
He was cool.
And that was enough for them.
Outside the window, the city lights shone beneath the night sky.
And in that quiet room, surrounded by the children he had left behind, the story of Uchiha Obito finally began to be told.
Then one of the children suddenly asked,
"Then… when is Papa coming home?
The others also looked up at them, waiting for an answer none of them knew how to give.
Outside the door, Obito closed his eyes for a brief moment.
Then, with a faint smile, he pushed the door open.
[Death ended the brushstroke.
Only the living could keep painting.]
Light spilled into the corridor.
Under the stunned gazes of everyone in the room, Uchiha Obito stepped inside.
For the first time in countless years, he had finally come home.
The End.
Author's Note:
And with this… Obito's long, long journey has finally reached its end.
Ehh… honestly, it still feels a little strange to write that.
This story followed Obito from the beginning, from the panic, the fear, the forced calm, and all the darkness he had to carry, all the way to a future where he could finally look around and say, "Yeah… this is my home."
Umm… there was also the matter of Rin Nohara, which might make some people wonder why I didn't bring her back. But honestly, in this case, I don't think there needed to be a reason.
At this stage, Obito no longer needed her. And more importantly, for this Obito, Rin Nohara no longer deserved him...
Yeah, that sounds cold.
So, he let her rest in peace.
This story started from a simple spark of inspiration, and somehow, looking back, I ended up writing so much more than I first expected. There are definitely parts I feel I could have handled better, but through this story, I also learned a lot.
I had many plans for it, but reality couldn't always keep up with those ideas. Even so, I tried my best to give this ending the proper closure it deserved.
This is the end of Obito's long road.
But for him, it is also the beginning of the life he finally chose to keep painting. In the future, he may still visit other worlds. Although this book has ended, his desire to reach even greater heights never will.
To everyone who stayed with this story until the end…
Thank you.
Really, thank you so much.
Whether you were here from the very beginning or joined somewhere along the way, your support made this journey warmer, brighter, and worth writing.
Well… I've never been very good at saying goodbye, so I'll just say this:
Thank you for walking this road with Obito.
Peace out.
Arthorain 🌧️✨