[ Byakuran's quiet, for a moment, already a consummate actor at his age, but still very much just a teenager. He shifts on his feet, with worn out shoes that probably wouldn't be able to last another mile. And everything aside, Byakuran is tired (he has to be, to make this work). Wiping at a dirt-smudged cheek, he starts a little closer and reaches out a hand carefully, every inch an abandoned child, a survivor from the carnage that had happened in Sky Country.
He doesn't smile - not yet, not openly, as he meets Kakashi's eye (he wonders if the other had a Sharingan, like he'd heard before. Wouldn't that be something? He doesn't doubt that Kakashi's one of the very best, and he very much would like to see the other man in action.) He nods, hand clasping his uncle's, and murmurs. ]
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He doesn't smile - not yet, not openly, as he meets Kakashi's eye (he wonders if the other had a Sharingan, like he'd heard before. Wouldn't that be something? He doesn't doubt that Kakashi's one of the very best, and he very much would like to see the other man in action.) He nods, hand clasping his uncle's, and murmurs. ]
I wasn't left with much of a choice, uncle.