Chapter Text
The forest bled silence.
Kakashi stumbled, nearly pitching forward onto the gnarled roots of a dying oak. His breath was ragged, misting in the cold air, and the hand clamped over his left eye was slick with blood. The rhythmic throb of pain echoed in his skull, each pulse a cruel reminder that he was alone. Alone, magic nearly spent, and one eye short.
The mission had been simple. Or it was supposed to be. A class-2 exorcism, standard for advanced apprentices nearing certification. His squad—Rin, Gai, and himself—had worked flawlessly together before. They were being groomed for greatness, whispered about in the upper halls of the Monastery, said to be the next generation of divine protectors.
And now? Now Rin’s scream was still ringing in his ears.
The ambush had come out of nowhere. Demons shouldn’t be capable of coordinated attacks like that—not without a summoner or a core beast. But these ones had moved with eerie precision, like they knew who to target, what sigils to disrupt, which wards to rip apart.
Kakashi’s magic had flared too bright, too fast. His silverspark—his signature spell—was overdrawn, and then came the flash of fangs, the rending claws. Pain. So much pain.
He hissed as he leaned against the tree, digging his nails into the bark to stay upright. The forest around him whispered with old things. Ancient things. Too quiet for comfort. No birds. No insects. Just breath. His.
And… another’s.
Kakashi went still. Slowly, painfully, he lifted his hand from his eye. It had already scabbed over with dried blood. The healing magic he’d tried to weave earlier had fizzled. He’d botched the incantation halfway through and nearly set his own sleeve on fire.
But none of that mattered now. Not when the air shifted.
Something was watching him.
A shadow detached itself from the mist.
Not a shadow. A figure. Tall, lean, and wrapped in black robes that shimmered with starlight. Eyes like burning amber, horns peeking through unruly black curls, and a mouth shaped in something not quite a smile. Kakashi’s heart stuttered.
The creature was beautiful.
That was the first wrong thing.
Demons didn’t look like this. They weren’t elegant . They didn’t stand like ghosts in the moonlight, with that quiet, curious tilt of the head. They didn't wear human expressions. Or have lips that looked soft enough to kiss.
(Wait. What? No. No, absolutely not—)
“Little exorcist,” the demon murmured.
His voice was low. Velvet and smoke. It felt like it wrapped around Kakashi’s ribs and tugged.
“Don’t move,” Kakashi croaked, drawing a shaky sigil in the air. It flared weakly. Pathetic.
The demon raised an eyebrow. “Is that supposed to be threatening?”
“I’ll banish you,” Kakashi lied.
The demon stepped closer. Kakashi’s hand trembled. His magic was spent. His body barely held upright by willpower and sheer spite.
“You smell like iron and desperation,” the demon said, almost thoughtfully. “And yet, you’re still standing.”
“I said , don’t move.”
The demon moved anyway. Graceful, slow, and entirely unbothered.
Kakashi tried to speak an incantation. Nothing came out. His tongue felt swollen, useless.
“You're injured,” the demon said. “Blinded in one eye. Your magic is cracked. You should be unconscious. Dead, even.”
“Gee,” Kakashi rasped, “thanks for the commentary.”
The demon’s smile curled—slightly cruel, slightly intrigued. And then, impossibly, gentle .
“Sit,” he said.
“What?”
“You’re about to fall over. Sit down before you hurt yourself more.”
Kakashi blinked. Blood dripped down his cheek.
“…You’re serious.”
The demon sighed. “I could kill you. Snap your neck, crush your skull, drain your essence like wine from a goblet. But I’m not going to.”
“Reassuring.”
“Sit.”
Against all logic, Kakashi obeyed.
The ground was damp, but his legs gave out gratefully. The bark dug into his back as he slumped, watching the demon with narrowed eyes.
“…Why aren’t you attacking me?” he asked.
The demon crouched a few feet away. Not too close, but close enough that Kakashi could see the strange shimmer beneath his skin. Like moonlight trapped under flesh.
“I don’t kill pretty things,” the demon said.
Kakashi flushed. What the fuck.
“I’m not—”
“Oh, you are.” A slow smirk. “All bleeding silver and broken pride.”
Kakashi scowled. “Are you mocking me or flirting?”
“Yes.”
“Of course.”
A pause.
“…My name is Obito,” the demon said quietly.
Kakashi stared. “Why would a demon give me his name?”
Obito shrugged. “I felt like it.”
“That’s incredibly suspicious.”
“So is talking to a demon instead of purging him.”
Touché.
“I… had a squad,” Kakashi said after a moment. “We were ambushed. I don’t know if they made it out.”
Obito’s expression shifted. Almost imperceptibly. “What were you doing in this part of the woods?”
“There was a disturbance. An old seal site started bleeding energy. We were sent to investigate.”
Obito tilted his head. “Ah.”
“You know something.”
“Perhaps.”
“Spill.”
Another smile. This one... sad?
“Humans like to play with power they don’t understand,” Obito murmured. “You dig into the earth and unearth things that were buried for a reason.”
Kakashi swallowed. “That doesn’t answer my question.”
“No. It doesn’t.”
Kakashi leaned his head back against the tree, wincing as his skull throbbed again.
“I should kill you,” he muttered.
Obito hummed. “You could try.”
“…Why are you helping me?”
Another pause.
Then Obito rose, and for a terrifying moment Kakashi thought the demon had changed his mind—but instead, Obito stepped forward, knelt, and reached into a fold of his robe. He pulled out a small vial.
“Here,” he said. “It’s not human magic. But it’ll stop the bleeding.”
Kakashi stared at it like it was a trap.
“It’s not poisoned,” Obito added with a roll of his eyes. “If I wanted you dead, I wouldn’t bother with tricks.”
Reluctantly, shakily, Kakashi took the vial. The liquid inside shimmered like crushed starlight. He uncorked it and sniffed. It smelled like cold nights and campfires. Like something old .
He drank.
Heat flushed through his veins. His pain dulled instantly. The ache behind his eye ebbed into a manageable throb.
“...What was that?”
“A blessing,” Obito said.
“You—you blessed me?”
“I said it wasn’t human magic.”
“But why—”
“Because I wanted to.”
Kakashi squinted at him. “You’re a really bad demon.”
Obito grinned, fangs glinting in the moonlight. “I get that a lot.”
The forest was still silent. But not threateningly so. The air had softened.
Kakashi knew he should move. Regroup. Find his squad. Report the demon.
But Obito didn’t move. And neither did he.
“…You’re not what I expected,” Kakashi said.
“Likewise.”
Kakashi’s vision was blurry on one side. But his other eye—his remaining eye—locked with Obito’s, and he felt the strangest flutter.
He was a prodigy. Trained to exorcise first, question never. He was cold. Sharp. Calculated.
And yet he sat in the woods with a demon, sipping blessings from his hand and breathing moonlight.
“Obito.”
“Hm?”
“If you were the one who caused the seal to break…”
“I wasn’t.”
“…Would you tell me if you were?”
Obito’s eyes glinted. “Would you believe me if I said yes?”
Kakashi sighed. “Touché.”
The world seemed quieter now. The pain still buzzed beneath his skin, but it no longer screamed.
And Obito just sat with him.
Not enemy. Not quite ally.
Something in-between.
And that, somehow, was more dangerous than anything else.