Uchiha Obito 's expression is a delicate thing. It is not 'delicate ' so far as the normal definition of the world, for there is nothing delicate about Uchiha Obito to begin with. 'Delicate ' is often a word Satoru associates with fragility, weakness- things that are transient and temporary. It is the flower petals, all too easy withering; it is the seemingly endless summer of your youths, all too easily shattered; it is the quiet of childhood dreams, all too easily torn apart by time alone.

Delicate is not a word Satoru would label Uchiha Obito. But he finds himself doing so now. This is less so the 'delicate ' of withering flowers, but more so the 'delicate ' of something on the precipice.

It is the 'delicate ' of touching a wound not yet healed.

How intense the experience must be, Satoru ponders. To leave a wound so deep- that even now so many years after Uchiha Obito still reels back at the pain.