Naruto: Starting as the Third Hokage with Tears in His Eyes

Chapter 510 The Campfire of the Boys and the Darkness in the Distance

"Then at least ten o'clock—!"

The footsteps ahead did not stop, nor did they quicken.

The sound of gravel being crushed underfoot came one after another, the rhythm as steady as the operation of some kind of precision instrument.

Unhurried and unmoved by any external forces.

Obito Uchiha's voice rose even higher.

"Seven o'clock!"

He took two steps, kicking pebbles that flew everywhere, his voice still carrying the last vestige of bargaining spirit—

"Seven o'clock is the bottom line—did you hear me?!"

The campfire crackled.

A piece of burnt charcoal rolled off the edge of the fire, leaving a small, dark red trail on the ground, like a hastily written period.

The footsteps ahead remained unchanged.

The silvery-white figure had already stepped out of the edge of the campfire's glow, its silhouette being swallowed up inch by inch by the shadows of the camp area.

His shoulders were straight, his stride was even, and even the back of his head exuded a calmness that I couldn't hear a sound from.

"Sigh—"

Obito Uchiha's confidence visibly waned.

My shoulder slumped a little first.

Then comes the spine.

"...Six o'clock?"

This time, his voice was much softer. It was as if he was asking Kakashi, or perhaps asking himself.

Quiet.

Only the sound of the night wind whistling through the pine treetops could be heard, rolling down a few withered yellow needles and landing on Oto's shoulder.

He did not brush it away.

The silver-haired boy's figure completely blended into the darkness of the camp area.

Even the sound of footsteps could not be heard.

Clean and neat.

Like his knife.

Obito Uchiha looked as if his bones had been removed, instantly transforming from a proud, head-held-high chasing posture into a hunched, defeated figure. He stomped his foot once—not satisfied—and then stomped it again.

The second kick sent a pebble the size of a thumb flying from the ground.

The stone flew a long way, tracing a low, flat arc, and landed with a thud on the roof of some unlucky guy's tent.

A muffled, angry shout came from afar—"Who?!"

"Cough cough..."

Obito Uchiha shrank back, pretending nothing had happened, and looked in the completely opposite direction.

"...It wasn't me."

He mumbled something so softly that he could barely hear himself.

He exhaled a long breath.

The white breath dispersed in the night, shattered by the wind, and vanished in an instant.

The camp fell silent again.

The campfire flickered a dozen paces away, occasionally bursting into a spark with a crackling sound, like someone snapping their fingers.

The firelight cast a long shadow of Obito, which stretched all the way to the base of the crooked pine tree behind him before dispersing.

He looked up at the southwest sky.

There was nothing to see in that direction anymore—no white hair, no sound of a scabbard rattling. There was no more of that "tap, tap, tap" rhythm when the hilt was lightly tapped.

Only the endless, silent night.

There were a few stars, scattered sparsely through the gaps in the clouds, not very bright, as if they were also sleepy.

Obito Uchiha pulled the goggles down from his forehead and placed them on the bridge of his nose.

The night, seen through the orange-tinted glasses, didn't seem so dark anymore. Nor did it seem so far away.

"It's 5:30 it is."

He whispered something. Only he could hear it.

He reached into his pocket with his right hand and his fingertips touched the folded dried fruit bag.

The edges of the paper were a bit stiff, pressing against my fingertips through the thin fabric, carrying a subtle yet undeniable presence.

Obito grinned.

I don't know if this counts as a laugh.

Goodnight, you jerk.

Obito Uchiha turned around and prepared to walk towards the tent area.

—Then it stopped.

The air behind me suddenly felt warmer.

It wasn't the heat of the campfire. The campfire was a dozen steps away, its heat long since diluted by the night breeze. It was something closer, something gentler, as if someone had gently cupped a handful of warmth behind him.

Then comes the aroma of tea.

A faint, damp scent, mixed with the night dew, drifted in from the right.

Obito Uchiha turned his head.

Nohara Rin was standing there.

I don't know how long I've been here.

Her short brown hair curled softly at the edge of the campfire's glow, and the purple marks on her cheeks looked particularly gentle in the warm light.

She held two cups of steaming tea in her hands, the white steam rising from the rim of the cups, swirling around her fingertips before dissipating.

There was a slight smile at the corner of his mouth—a very faint smile, without any hint of questioning.

She handed him a glass.

"Here you are."

Obito paused for a moment, then took the teacup.

The warmth of the ceramic cup seeped through my fingertips, almost too much.

"Aren't you going to try and persuade Kakashi to take a day off or something?"

"advise?"

His voice held a final, desperate struggle: "Can that stone even listen to me? 5:30? That's way too early..."

Nohara Rin tilted her head and thought about it seriously.

The wind blew a stray lock of hair from her forehead, then let it fall back down.

"If there's no time, I'll go wake you up."

She smiled.

The sound was very soft, like a leaf falling on still water—almost silent, but ripples spread outwards in concentric circles.

Obito Uchiha stared at her for a second.

Lin's eyes are brown, but in the firelight they turn into a warm amber color.

At that moment, his eyes curved into two crescent moons, reflecting the light of the campfire and his own shadow.

The words the boy didn't say remained quietly in those eyes—

The best days are those when I'm woken up to train.

Obito Uchiha looked away and tilted his head back to take a big gulp of tea.

heat.

hot.

It's very hot.

"Cough cough—!"

Obito grimaced from the burn, his tongue curling up in his mouth, his face contorted in pain.

The tea almost spilled from the corner of his mouth. He desperately tilted his head back to swallow, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down twice, and tears welled up in his eyes.

Nohara Rin gently patted his back, her shoulders trembling, laughing almost silently, but she couldn't stop.

"Drink slowly, it's freshly boiled..."

"You should have said so sooner—!"

The two stood side by side, one covering her mouth and laughing, the other baring her teeth and breathing out hot air.

The light from the campfire shone from the side, gilding the silhouettes of the two boys with a warm orange hue.