Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“What,” he begins in a tone dead enough to support a colony of fungi, “The actual fuck.”

He drags a hand down his cheek and exhales when his fingers run over spiraling ridges. Before him, the man in the mirror blinks back with a single, wide eye, hand lingering at the base of his chin. Above lies skin with the texture and appearance of crumpled paper.

The man’s expression smooths out into something blank, brought about by a bluescreening brain. He then promptly squeezes his eyes shut, inhales deeply, and places the heels of his palms below his lips before releasing a half-muffled scream that holds an edge of hysteria.

Somehow, he’d gotten himself isekai’d. Either that, or he’s experiencing a disturbingly realistic fever dream wherein random-ass memories of an anime character were haphazardly thrown into his rattling skull, as if he’s the protagonist of some sort of awful transmigration fanfiction.

And for whatever reason, he’s wearing Obito fucking Uchiha’s body. You know, just because. 

It’s not like he’d ever done anything particularly nasty Before. He’d never killed anyone; he’d never stolen candy from children; he’d never even gotten so much as a parking ticket.

In the end, the worst crime he’d ever committed wasn’t punishable by law. Rather, he was simply socially incompetent enough to come off as a bit of an asshole with a major case of RBF. If that’s enough to get him reincarnated as an anime villain - the anime villain - he doesn’t want to know what kind of situations even the most minor of dickwards end up in.

(Or maybe it’s just because he was unfortunate enough to have died on April Fool’s day. That would be the biggest cosmic joke of all, and incredibly petty on the universe’s part.)

He doesn’t actually mind the sudden transmigration all that much, even if he wishes he’d been given a bit of warning. His life Before had been downright boring; some sort of adventure might be nice, if not exciting.

However.

If he’d been given the choice, he’d have rather been… just about anyone else.

Sure, Obito was overpowered as all hell, but he’d stuck his fingers in so many goddamn pies that even the mangaka seemed to forget what he was doing half the time. Also, it would’ve been so much nicer to have been ‘reincarnated’ in the Leaf. At least then he wouldn’t have to worry about missing nin fuckery.

The idea of being the overarching antagonist - aside from Zetsu and Kaguya, the total asspulls - for shits and giggles may initially sound entertaining, but unfortunately he’s cursed with having a conscience, and he’s pretty sure he’d vomit the moment he so much as cut someone with a kunai. Plus, being Thanos dusted sounds, in no uncertain terms, rather unappealing. 

So he decides that he will not be playing this game. The universe has had its laugh, but he’s not sticking around for the end of this comedy show; he’ll be leaving ASAP, thankyouverymuch.

After dropping his hands to his sides, might-as-well-be-Obito stares at drab, cement walls for all of a second before immediately leaving the room. Upon seeing that one hall leads into eerie darkness, he heads down the other because he’s not dying to the most obvious horror movie cliche he can think of. 

He can literally feel when he’s getting close to the main room, because there are several, absurdly large, lumps of energy that are coalescing within. 

An odd mixture of wholehearted terror and indifference brews within his chest, and he squashes the latter without hesitation, because he's not too keen on dying again today. Then, after ensuring that there really is nowhere else to go, he finally pushes open the door to the Room of Doom.

Itachi - who he figures can’t have gotten past his teens, yet has the air of an old man who hasn’t slept in decades - is the first one to notice him. He gives Obito a brief, assessing look before his eyes marginally widen. He’s not fluent in Itachi-speak, but he’s fairly certain that little action means something along the lines of, ‘What the actual fuck?’

A moment later, a strangled sound sounds out from Obito’s left. “Who are you?” Deidara demands, drawing literally everyone’s attention to him in an instant. He tries not to twitch, though feels as if he’s spilled a drop of blood in shark-infested water as numerous gazes of S-Rank criminals begin to bore into his head.

He pauses, chances a glance at Kisame, and wipes the thought from his mind.

“Your mom,” he replies, suppressing his wince (and a snort, when Deidara’s expression transforms into one of genuine bewilderment) as he walks across the room, determinedly ignoring the eyes that trail his movement.

“What the fuck?” Hidan asks from somewhere behind him. 

Immediately afterwards, Obito feels a hand land on his shoulder, and it takes everything he has to turn around calmly instead of screaming like a scared little girl. The instinct is once again suppressed when he meets Kisame Hoshigaki’s gaze, though judging by the amused quirk of his lips, he thinks the initial spasming of his expression may have been a tad obvious.

“Yes? ” he forces out, wondering if this is how he dies. If it is, and he’s literally done nothing but walk into a room, that’d be mortifying enough to leave him rolling in his grave. 

“Who are you, really?” he asks. Obito feels absolutely betrayed, because he knows who the fuck he—

Oh. Wait. No. God, fuck, he’s not wearing the mask. But if he had been, Kisame would’ve thought he was Madara. Or maybe—

He doesn’t know, actually. He really wishes he’d have paid more attention when watching Shippuden. Or, you know. Finished it at all.

Still, just for that, Obito almost tells him that he’s his mom, too. Unfortunately, he doesn’t think that Kisame will believe him. Neither Obito nor Deidara are half-shark, after all.

“Tobi,” he eventually replies, since that’s what they know him by. As far as he can tell, ‘Tobi’ hadn’t been instated as a genuine member of the Akatsuki yet - and he wouldn’t have been until Sasori croaked in the face of Sakura’s pink-haired righteousness, his literal grandma, and a healthy dose of plot convenience - but they’d all seen him hanging around before, acting as some sort of ‘reserve’ member.

He hears a choking noise that he’s pretty sure comes from Hidan, and from across the room, Deidara sputters.

“No goddamn way!” the latter yells out. If Kisame wasn’t blocking his vision, Obito wouldn’t be surprised if he’d suddenly found himself facing Phoenix Wright mid-accusation instead of the explosion-obsessed blond.

Apparently having lost his sense of self-preservation somewhere between leaving ‘his‘ room and making contact with a large group of suspicious, trained killers, he forcibly widens his eyes and adopts a childish tone. “Are you saying you don’t recognize Tobi, senpais?~”

He vomits in his mouth a little, but god if he isn’t amused when he sees the horrified reactions that follow. Even Kakuzu does a double take, and Sasori’s thoughts seem to have started buffering. 

“Anyways,” he says, dropping his shoulders along with his voice, “I’ve decided to blow this joint. Maybe I’ll become a baker or something. I think I could make a pretty mean snickerdoodle.”

He smiles, but desperately wants to slam his face into the nearest wall. He doesn’t know what it is about him being Obito that has him teasing people who could kill him with a flick of their fingers, but he does not appreciate it, no matter how entertaining it may be.

…

Except—

He’s an S-Rank missing-nin too, isn’t he? And he’s got that swirly eye power, too…

There’s a brief pause before Hidan narrows his eyes. “I can’t tell if he’s telling a shitty joke or not.” He turns towards Kisame, who’s closest to him. “He’s fucking with us, right?”

“...Nope,” Obito replies before anyone else can say a word, letting out a hysteria-tinged laugh. “See you never, senpais!”

With that, he somehow manages to get his Sharingan to flicker to life, and he swirls into nonexistence.

Chapter Text

Obito remains still, face pressed into the ground, for a good minute or so before finally peeling himself off the ground with a groan. Fuck, he thinks, grimacing as he spits out a clump of saliva-soaked dirt. Note to self: memories of training are not entirely equal to having said training.

God, he feels like he just went toe-to-toe with Gai. Who would’ve thought that sudden soreness was a side effect of fucking up kamui?

“Um. Who are you?”

Obito pauses, raises his gaze, and nearly has a stroke when he sees the whiskered blond staring directly at him.

What the fucking fuck.

“...Your mom,” he replies, and promptly resists the urge to bury his face back into the ground. He and Deidara do look similar enough to be brothers, though. Maybe he should’ve asked about it; “Are you Minato-sensei’s secret love child or something?”

He’s sure that would’ve gone well.

The kid’s eyes grow as wide as saucers. “You’re a lady?!” the main character blurts out, then frowns. “Wait, my mom? But you look nothing like me, y’know!”

“You inherited your looks from your dad,” he says, then pushes himself to his feet. 

You’re actually a carbon copy, actually. Remove those whiskers and square out your jawline, and blamo, you’ve got Minato Namikaze.

It’s a real wonder nobody had made the connection before. He almost hopes, for his own sanity, that there’s no pictures of Minato to be found around the Hidden Leaf. And that everyone somehow got amnesia or something. There is literally no other reason why nobody had ever made the connection, especially considering people from other villages were able to.

Then, because he lives for chaos and will probably never see Naruto again face-to-face, he eyes him consideringly. “No one ever told you what happened to your father, did they?”

Several emotions flicker across Naruto’s face before his lips curl into a too-wide, lopsided smile. “Nyeh, Jiji told me enough. ‘Least I know how he died.”

Goddamn, he thinks, someone needs to teach this kid about stranger danger.

…

It won’t be me, though.

“You should ask around about Minato Namikaze,” Obito tells him. He’d single out Kakashi specifically, but he’d feel at least a little bad if he outed his trauma like that, even if the guy is a bit of a dumbass for trying to pretend that he doesn’t know a thing.

“Min—” Naruto cuts himself off, eyes practically falling out of their sockets. “The Yondaime?! Why would I ask about him?!”

“Because, Naruto,” Obito says, bending down to pat the blond on the head. “He is your father.”

Then, because notes-to-self were made to be ignored, he activates his Sharingan, captures Naruto’s dumbstruck expression in (way more than) 4K, and disappears once again.

“Who the fuck are you?”

“You know,” Obito muses, “I’ve been asked that a lot lately.”

“Have you been hired by Gatou?” another voice asks. They’re far more polite, but hidden within their words is a warning.

Terrifying. And he does mean that, because he’s pretty sure that either one of these people could take him down without too much effort, if they really wanted to. He’s literally just been thrown into this body, after all.

So he should avoid them at all costs. Or cooperate, if he must.

Instead, he opens his mouth and decides to cause problems on purpose, so less problems happen later on. He’s a genius.

“...Not quite. I heard that he was asking around for a job. Are you two here for the same thing?”

Fuck yeah, he thinks, mentally patting himself on the back. I’m a great liar.

There’s a brief pause before Haku replies. “Perhaps. Could you enlighten us on the job’s details?”

Obito puts on a suspicious expression. It’s not hard, because he is suspicious about the fact that this is going so well for him. “Well, if you don’t know…”

“Getting rid of a group of ninjas?” Zabuza asks roughly. “Is that it?”

Obito eyes them for a moment longer before nodding slowly. “...Yes. If two ninjas constitute a group, anyway.”

“Two ninjas?” Haku echoes.

“Unless more showed up prior to my arrival, yeah.” He pretends to think for a moment, and decides to forgo all subtly for his next line. “I think it was something about a master and their apprentice…? Ah, and it was specifically mentioned that they had to be dealt with tomorrow afternoon, on some sort of bridge.”

Haku and Zabuza seem to hold a conversation through a series of brief glances.

“I see,” the former eventually replies, offering a polite-yet-sharp smile. “I’m afraid we’ve already taken the job, shinobi-san.”

Obito blinks, and does his best not to laugh nervously at the implied threat. “Ah, I get it. Don’t worry, I’m not here to steal your job. Just thought I’d check it out since I was close by.” 

He puts on a smile, then promptly leaps backwards while feeling the increasingly familiar pull of kamui. “Ja ne!” he calls out, dropping through the open window before retreating to the kamui dimension.

Once inside, he spends the next five minutes trying not to vomit. Maybe he should refrain from pulling any ‘cool tricks’ before he has this whole Sharingan thing figured out.

“What the hell are you looking at, dumbass?” Sasuke snaps, glaring at the blond who’d been shooting him suspicious looks all throughout dinner.

“None of your business, bastard,” Naruto replies, narrowing his eyes as he inspects his teammate’s feminine features. He thinks of the two enigmas - Haku and that mystery lady(?) with the scars - he’d met just a couple of hours before and squints harder. “Nothing at all.”

A few seats away, Kakashi pointedly ignores both boys, even as he’s subjected to Sakura’s questioning glances. He doesn’t know why Minato-sensei’s son has suddenly become infatuated with his Uchiha teammate, and quite frankly, he does not want to know why.

Chapter Text

He wonders, as he stares at the extensive farmland around him, what it’d be like to take command of the Akatsuki and force them to become farmers. 

Kisame could water all of the crops and Sasori could plant and pull them rather quickly with all of his puppets, for starters. Hidan with his scythe would be rather useful, both with animals and crops, and he figures Itachi’s sharingan must have some bullshit hack for farming somewhere in those red pools of retconning. 

Kakuzu could obviously handle the expenses, Deidara could create holes with his bombs instead of digging, and if he got Konan and Nagato on board, they could be pretty good salespeople on top of handling the animals. And Zetsu, of course, would be an invasive plant that they’d all spray with weed killer. Hell, maybe he could even grab Kakashi and get him to act as the farm’s scarecrow.

Unfortunately, he knows such a circumstance will never come to pass. Truly a pity.

Chapter Text

“Hm,” he lets out through half-burnt lips, watching as flames attempt to devour the surrounding forest, “This can’t be good.”

Obito really can’t imagine why he thought practicing the Great Fireball jutsu in a heavily-forested area would be a good idea, because it most certainly was not - especially since he hadn’t bothered to practice any water jutsus beforehand. Actually, it’s kind of comical how little he thought everything through.

Maybe it’s the Uchiha pyromaniac genes. If they are - and he’ll subscribe to the theory, as long as it clears some of the blame - he’s not really surprised. Even Itachi and Sasuke, the emotionally-stunted dumbasses, were - are? - firebugs, as far as he’s concerned.

…Not that blaming an inherited love for arson is going to clear up the situation.

(Because really, he doesn't think that this is what Konoha meant by the 'Will of Fire.')

He stares out at the smoking trees, eyes reflecting warm-colored hues, and lets out an exaggerated sigh. Oh, consequences, why must you exist?

(In the end, he spends several minutes fumbling over hand seals as he attempts to [re]learn a water jutsu, only to be forced to hide when a group of Konoha ninja arrive to put out the flames. 

He’s able to slip away, but not before hearing more than one joke about an Uchiha ghost lighting up the forest from beyond the grave. He’s not sure whether to be pleased that his theory had ground, or offended that the stereotype extended to even reincarnated Uchihas, and that it wasn’t entirely wrong.)

Chapter Text

“Hey, ‘Tachi, I can’t help but notice you’ve been kinda on edge lately,” Shisui says, still looking towards the sunset. “You can always talk to me, you know.”

Itachi just barely purses his lips, feeling his gut churn with guilt. He hates keeping secrets from Shisui, he really does, but—

“Itachi,” a familiar voice calls out, and despite himself, he sucks in a sharp breath, Sharingan activating instinctively as he spins around.

“Madara,” he says, glancing between the man and Shisui.

Shisui, who was already standing behind him and looking ready for battle, jerks backwards, giving Itachi a bewildered look. “Did you just say what I think you did?” 

Itachi’s eyes flick towards his best friend, and he must look particularly frazzled, because Shisui’s expression immediately transforms into one of concern. He glances at Madara, then sucks in a breath, steeling his expression. 

“Who exactly are you?” he asks testily, holding out a kunai as he scans the man with his own Sharingan. Itachi admires his bravery, he always has, but he wishes that Shisui would try to take his own advice and read the room more often, or at least clamp down on his urges to start problems.

…Speaking of, Itachi can’t help but notice that he’s gotten worse ever since he started taking more missions with Kakashi-senpai. If he survives this encounter, he’ll make sure that the silver-haired man knows how hard he’s made his life lately - even if that means that he has to grab him and shake him by the shoulders so he can’t ignore him by staring at that ‘literature’ of his.

“Uh,” Madara says, and it immediately draws Itachi’s attention back to the present. “Your m— no,” he cuts himself off, sounding annoyed. “I have got to stop saying that…”

Shisui gives Itachi a look that tells him that he thinks Madara is crazy. Itachi is inclined to agree.

“Ugh, whatever,” Madara mutters, then looks back up at the two of them. “You two…,” he pauses before exhaling, “Need to go to therapy.”

Shisui is clearly thrown, and honestly, Itachi isn’t faring much better. “...Therapy?” Shisui echoes.

“Yes, therapy,” Madara stresses. “It’s like, crazily unhealthy for both of you to be as self-sacrificial as you are. Also,” he says, turning towards Itachi, “I get it, you love your brother and all, but dude, you have problems. Like, seriously, talk to someone. Get a girlfriend. A boyfriend, even. I don’t care who it is as long as it tempers that weird-ass complex you have.”

“...Riiiight,” Shisui says slowly, sounding like he’s talking to a particularly dangerous toddler. Which… fair, considering how this conversation is going. Itachi has experienced more emotional whiplash within this three-minute conversation than he has in the past several years combined.

“Oh, also,” Madara adds, suddenly closer to Itachi and putting him and Shisui on guard, “No killing your entire family, got that? It wouldn’t be very cash money of you.” 

Itachi and Madara hold an impromptu staring contest, because, and he can’t stress this enough, what the hell?, before Madara proceeds to narrow his visible eye. 

“Am I not getting through to you or something?” he asks, then digs around in his pocket, pulling out a handful of ryo. “Here, dude, buy yourself some dango. You like that, right? It’s much better than familial genocide, at least.” When Itachi still doesn’t reply, which he thinks is rather fair considering the circumstances, Madara reaches forwards and, ignoring Shisui’s sudden movement, opens Itachi’s hand, drops the ryo onto his palm, and pats it awkwardly. “There we go,” he says, taking a step backwards. “Problem solved.”

What problem?! Itachi wants to scream, and only his impeccable restraint keeps him from doing so.

"Uh, anyway, I gotta go like, help some old ladies or something…" Madara says, then stills. "Oh shit, Kakashi," he breathes out before shaking his head. "Remember, kids, don't listen to one-eyed men - whether they be bandaged or masked - when they tell you to kill your family! Or… something like that. Bye!"

Itachi watches him disappear into a vortex and decides that maybe he won’t have to confront Kakashi-senpai at all. Even he, eccentric as he is, wouldn’t stand a chance against Madara’s apparent brand of insanity.

“...What,” Shisui says flatly, still staring at where Madara had been standing only moments prior, “The fuck.”

Chapter Text

Obito awakens with one arm hanging in the air, an arched, twisted back, and his right leg hooked under a thick pole that has a familiar, rough texture. He barely has a moment to process his mimicry of a deformed pretzel before his leg slips downwards, and he’s sent hurtling towards the ground.

But his body never meets the dirt.

Instead the twisting poles reach out to catch him hammock-style, and he finds that his mind goes blank because, and pardon his French, what the fuck?

He wonders, briefly, if he’s gone mad. Then, upon remembering who he is, decides that while yes, he probably has, there’s definitely something else at play here.

Obito exhales and activates his glorified flashlight, which reveals, through red-tinted vision, that the cave he fell asleep in had grown its own, miniature forest overnight.

“What the fuck?” he says aloud this time which, in his opinion, is entirely fair. Even in magic ninja bullshit land, he’s fairly certain that trees don’t just appear out of nowhere, unless—

Obito freezes, lowering his gaze to his right arm - uncovered after he’d ditched his tacky cloak before setting up camp. Too-pale skin stares back at him mockingly, and he closes his eyes for a long, pained second as realization settles upon him.

He almost pulls an actual Madara and screams out Hashirama’s name, but he just barely manages to restrain himself. Instead, he takes in a deep breath, closes his eyes, and decides that he’ll deal with this shit tomorrow.

Tomorrow comes and goes, and instead of dealing with his problems, he pops into a clothing store and 'buys' a sleeve to cover up his discolored arm. He feels a little bad about not being able to pay, so he leaves behind an I.O.U. from one ‘Kakashi Hatake,’ because the idea of the man arriving in some town in the middle of nowhere and learn that a shopkeeper has an I.O.U. from him - signed lovingly with a Henohenomoheji and everything - is hilarious.

But it does make him realize that he will have to get a job somehow. Obviously he can’t stick around in one place for too long - well, he probably could if he gets the henge down, but he really doesn’t feel like it - so he’ll have to take up the work of a missing nin.

Unfortunately, he has no idea what a missing nin actually does except for maybe bounty hunting sometimes, and he’s not really too eager to get into any high-powered fights anytime soon.

So , he draws on his meager knowledge of D-Ranks and goes around the next little town he comes across asking if they need any jobs done.

At first, people just stare at him oddly, but eventually, an old woman asks if he might be willing to help her pick up her groceries, because after her daughter moved out with her husband, she has no one to help and oh, some days it’s so hard, and—

Needless to say, Obito’s always been a bit of a bleeding heart, and he already knows that he’ll agree the moment she mentions her old eyes not quite working the way they used to. He even goes the extra mile and after nearly half an hour of telling her that he can take care of it, she finally agrees to stay home while he picks everything up for her.

An hour later, he comes back with far more groceries than she’d given him money for, wearing a sharp smile and having learned that he apparently has a knack for haggling.

(Or maybe the shopkeepers were intimidated by his scarred face. But that’s neither here nor there, and it’s really their own problem, anyway.)

The half-blind woman smiles at him and wrangles him into staying for tea, and proceeds to regale him with stories that he ends up getting far too invested in. Eventually, though, night falls and he moves to say his goodbyes and head off back to another cave he’d scoped out nearby. She tries to bully him into staying, and he politely tells her that he doesn’t wish to intrude, so he really must be going. The woman is stubborn, but Obito isn’t one to back down.

(Later that night, Obito stares at the ceiling of Kana-obaa-san’s guest bedroom after having taken the first genuine shower he'd had in a while, body draped in quilted blankets and head propped up with freshly-fluffed pillows, and thinks that old women are a lot scarier than he’d given them credit for.)

Obito stays in the town for far longer than he’d intended, and finds himself being giggled at by passing old women on a near-daily basis, while half of their husbands shoot him distrusting glares.

He’s a bit disturbed by it all, but quickly brushes it off. Everyone in the town is nice to him, after all, and they love reminiscing about their youth. Maybe anyone else would be embarrassed by how much they enjoyed the conversations, but Obito finds it all rather intriguing, if a little sad. The town is primarily populated by the elderly, with their children having gone off to bigger and better places, and so he always makes sure to stay around to chat after each job he completes.

Then one day he hears something… displeasing, to say the least.

“Bandits,” Kana-obaa-san tells him with a sigh. “No shinobi come around here, you see, so they tend to run around freely. Others have tried to fight back, but, well…” She trails off, wiping the sad look off her face. “Ah, but you needn’t worry about that. You’re leaving tomorrow, aren’t you? Your sendoff should be joyful!”

Obito smiles at her and continues chatting politely, but that night, he slips out of the town and begins scouring about. With his Sharingan, it doesn’t take long to pick up a trail, and he finds a camp of 20 bandits hiding a few kilometers out from the town.

When he sees them laugh drunkenly as they boast about their conquests, he finds that he cares little about their lives.

He doesn’t kill them, despite that. He could if he wanted to - even if he’s relying on muscle-memory, he has chakra on his side, and they’re all just civilians. But the next morning, the town’s small prison finds itself with 20 beat-up bandits filling its cells, all unwilling to say a word about the person who captured them, except that he’s a madman.

Kana-obaa-san tells Obito of the incident the next morning, sending him a knowing look all the while. She doesn’t bother pointing out the obvious, though, and instead sends him off a few hours later with a tight hug and a container of baked goods, promising that she’ll pray for him for as long as she lives.

If Obito’s eyes are a little wet when he finally steps foot out of the town, well… that’s no one's business but his own.

Chapter Text

Obito is not an interior decorator. That, however, doesn’t mean that he doesn’t find the kamui dimension dreadfully boring.

There are cubes and squares and quadrangles as far as the eye can see, and if it weren’t for the Sharingan, that wouldn’t be very far. The place is dreary, not only because of its uniformity, but because it’s incredibly dark. It doesn’t affect Obito since he has incredibly costly night light eyes, but it’s gloomy to see the shadows nonetheless.

So, Obito does the only logical thing and, after speedrunning through a couple dozen more missions, he goes on a shopping spree.

Let it be said that, while Obito is technically an adult, the label is just that.

In other words, he goes into the store looking for furniture, and while he does find some, he also comes out with the ugliest dog plush he’s ever seen in his life . Its eyes are lopsided, its dark gray fur is unevenly cut, its tongue hangs out to the side, its head is too small for its body, and that’s all he needs to fall in love.

He names him ‘Doug’ and decides that he’s his new patron saint. And since he can’t just leave Doug alone all day, he decides that he’ll leave him with a dogsitter.

He’s sure that Kakashi won’t mind. Maybe their dogs can even have a playdate!

Pakkun walks into the room and double takes, because the ugliest stuffed animal he’s ever seen is sitting pristinely on the couch.

The others, eyeing curiously.

“What,” he asks, “Is that?”

“A dog plush,” Guruko provides easily.

Pakkun’s expression falls as flat as he can, and Uhei turns his head towards him. “You don’t know where it came from?”

“I figured one of you would,” Pakkun responds. Bull sniffs the thing once, then licks it. “You don’t know where that’s been,” he scolds, and the large dog chuffs. “Nobody saw Boss put it here?”

“It doesn’t smell like him,” Bisuke observes. 

Pakkun squints, then moves towards the front of the pack to give the stuffed animal a sniff. He’s right. Other than the faint scent picked up from the couch, it smells nothing like Kakashi.

Which is concerning, he thinks, because he didn’t smell anyone else on his way in, and the only people who have ever been in Kakashi’s house have very distinctive scents.

“We’ll ask Boss,” Pakkun decides a little warily, catching the others’ attention. “For now, stay away from it.”

Kakashi stares. The dog plush stares back. He wonders if he’s going insane.

He’d thrown it away three times now, after he learned that neither Tenzou or Gai had left it there. He even considered that his students were messing with him, but if that were the case, Naruto would be boasting about his ‘amazing prank’ by now. No, this was from another source.

The first time, he’d left the plush outside his front door. Then, he’d abandoned it in a training field. He’d even gone out of his way to throw it out of the village gates, yet here it was, sitting on his couch without so much as a speck of dirt in its fur.

He doesn’t know how this is happening, especially because it keeps appearing back where it started before he returns home. He’d even re-checked the training grounds the second time, and sure enough, it wasn’t there anymore. He might’ve been able to convince himself he’d imagined getting rid of it if he hadn’t seen the small spot of shifted dirt where it had been sitting just minutes earlier.

He decides that the only thing he can do now is phone a friend.

“Kakashi-senpai? What—”

Kakashi interrupts Tenzou by shoving the dog plush into his hands. “I need you to get rid of this,” he tells him, barely paying attention to the bewildered expression on his face before disappearing in a swirl of leaves.

The moment he’s back in his apartment, he goes to stand sentry in front of his couch. He considers uncovering the Sharingan, but Pakkun sends him a look when he reaches for his hitai-ate that has him dropping his hand.

It happens between blinks. 

One moment, the couch is empty. The next, he watches as a note flutters down from the air, falling gently in front of the dog plush. He stares at its lopsided gaze and wonders if it’s mocking him.

Warily, he reaches out towards the note, hand on his weapons pouch. Thankfully, nothing happens when he opens the note.

“Haha, looks like you lost Doug again! Don’t worry, he’s good at finding his way home ;)

P.S. You’re doing good with the outside time, but make sure he gets some socialization too. Don’t want him to get lonely, you know?”

“Ah… Kakashi-senpai?”

Kakashi whips around, note in hand, and narrows his eyes at Tenzou. “I thought I told you to get rid of it.”

The man blinks at him, bewildered. Kakashi steps aside, gesturing at the plush, and his eyes nearly pop out of his skull.

“I swear I did!” he claims. “I even buried it in the 44th Training Ground!” A moment later, he frowns. “What’s that written on the back?”

Kakashi pauses, then flips the note over. 

“P.S.P.S. I almost forgot his treats! Plus, a little gift for your trouble… don’t look at it in front of Doug, though. He’s young and impressionable!!!”

Kakashi turns slowly, and nearly does a double take when he sees the treat bag that sits next to the plush. Propped up against it is a brand new copy of the newest Icha Icha.

“Ah,” he lets out mildly. “Tenzou, I think I’ve finally cracked.”

“What?” Tenzou asks, alarmed.

Kakashi hums, turning the book over in his hand before glancing at ‘Doug.’

He picks the plush up, walks over to his dogs, and places it on the floor. “Play nice,” he tells them, walking away as he cracks open his new book.

Obito watches through kamui, letting out unrestrained cackles as Tenzou and Kakashi’s ninken watch the silver-haired man’s retreating back in disbelief.

This , he decides, Is the best thing I’ve ever done in my life.

Chapter Text

Obito pauses, lips slightly parted and eyes half-lidded, and stares at the crustiest old man he’s ever seen. He then glances to the side, where he sees two decidedly unhuman, pale creatures that stand off to the side, and takes a deep breath of dank cave air.

“That’s fucked,” he blurts out.

Madara stares. Zetsu stares. Guruguru stares. Obito is just glad that he hadn’t commented on everything else that’s wrong with this picture. And that’s… a whole lotta things.

“Sorry,” Obito says anyway, then winces when Madara narrows his eyes at him. He’s not quite sure if the old man still has the ability to jiu jitsu him to death (what with being tied to a gigantic soul-sucking tree and all), but he’s not too eager to find out. “Uh… I think we got off on the wrong foot. My name’s Obito.” And you’re one of the founders of Konoha, and also batshit insane. What a wonderful situation to be in.

“Obito,” the man intones slowly, voice quiet but piercing. Obito squints, because there’s absolutely no way that’s natural. “It is nice to meet you.”

He stops speaking there, and Obito realizes that he’s probably supposed to continue… whatever this is.

“Ah… yeah. You too.” He tries to remember what the hell had been said in canon, but comes up short. “...And who are you?”

“I am the one that healed you,” the man tells him instead of introducing himself immediately, because he’s a dramatic bitch. Either that, or this is part of his brainwashing techniques. He honestly wouldn’t be surprised if it was both. “And I intend on making you pay me back in full.”

Alright, that’s not creepy at all.

“Oh?” Obito says with a winning smile. “And how’s that?”

Madara frowns as if he’s said something unexpected, and Obito tries not to think about how it makes the man look constipated. “Neither of us can get out of here with these bodies,” he eventually says, and for the first time, Obito actually bothers to look down at himself. 

And… wow, he thinks a little hysterically, that’s not good . 

“As for who I am…,” Madara says after a moment, “I am the ghost of the Uchiha. Madara Uchiha.”

Obito really, really knows that he should hold his tongue, but he’s sleep deprived, stressed, and has somehow managed to find himself in a fictional universe. So, instead of saying something normal , he tells Madara fucking Uchiha , “I named my hedgehog after you.” Then, as if it’ll make it any better, he adds, “He died last year.”

The man stares at him again. Obito closes his eyes for a long, pained second and tries to smile. It probably looks more like a grimace.

“Speaking of dead Madaras,” he starts with, further showing off his genius, “I’m pretty sure Madara Uchiha has been gone for ages now.”

Madara somehow stays on script despite looking like he regrets a majority of his life decisions. “Then I suppose… I am a relic from the past. If I was not receiving a steady supply of chakra from that statue back there,” he reveals, “I would be dead in an instant. I am cheating death.”

Obito raises his gaze, eyeing the statue before grimacing. He’s not sure whether it’s fortunate or not that he can’t move without sliding across the floor like a half-dead slug. On one hand, if he could move, he might be able to disconnect Madara from the statue and prevent any future bullshit from taking place. On the other , he’s fairly certain that if he screwed up even slightly , Madara would be able to murder him in an instant.

“We are going to break the cycle of cause and effect,” Madara eventually says, and Obito wonders if he’d gotten impatient when he hadn’t replied immediately. It wouldn’t surprise him, given what he remembered of the man’s general temperament. “Create a world with only victors. With only peace. With only love… A world that contains nothing but those things.”
Nice thought, terrible idea for execution, Obito thinks, but wisely does not say. Instead, he asks, “And why should I help?”

Madara eyes him. “Either this, or you die,” he says, and it’s blunt rather than threatening . “And I will take that eye of yours before you do.”

“...Right,” Obito lets out, mouth a little dry. Although making fun of the situation is all well and good, he still isn’t very keen on the idea of having all of his bones shattered by an old man, nor is he fond of the thought of having his eye - the Sharingan, which is a whole different problem that he will think about later - plucked from its socket.

Afterwards, the room settles into uncomfortable silence. Obito does not manage to fall asleep that night.

“So!” Obito asks a little while after Madara has fallen asleep, “Where are we, huh? Do you know where my team is?” He knows that they’re probably in Konoha by now, but he figures he might be able to fish for some information, at least.

“We’re in a cave!” Guruguru provides helpfully.

Scratch that.

“Ah,” Obito says. “I see.”

Despite having the Sharingan, he does not, in fact, see.

When the day comes for Problems™ to arise, Obito is prepared.

“Oh shit!” he says, “Look out! It’s a convenient excuse to look over there!”

“Where?!” Guruguru asks with a gasp. 

Obito tries not to think about how ridiculous it is that his ‘distraction’ worked, and before Guruguru tightens his control once again, he leaps out into the clearing.

Kakashi stares. Rin stares. The Kiri nin stare. Obito gets a major sense of deja vu.

“Obito?” Kakashi breathes out, looking like he’s about to pass out. Rin looks even worse off than him, but equally as bewildered by the turn of events.

“...Yo,” Obito lets out. “Uh. Sorry I’m late. I got lost on the road of life.”

“Wait a minute!” Guruguru says then, “You tricked me!”

There’s a brief moment of awkward silence before the Kiri ninja converge.

Obito winces when he feels the cells around his flesh harden. “Yeah, yeah! But if you don’t let me fight back, we’ll both die!”

Guruguru remains silent for a moment before harrumphing. “Fine! But you gotta come back to the cave afterwards!”

“Sure, whatever,” Obito agrees with absolutely no intention to revisit his new least favorite Uchiha ever again.

With that, Guruguru loosens his hold, and Obito runs straight into the fray, where Kakashi and Rin are weaving between attacks.

“Sorryaboutthisillexplainlater!” he word-vomits as he passes by Kakashi to kick a kiri ninja in the face. Kakashi whips around, eyes wide, but quickly collects himself - for the time being, at least - when a kiri nin almost takes his ear off with a kunai.

There’s only a few kiri ninja left when Rin makes her move. Instead of simply snatching her away, Obito panics and latches onto her, squeezing his burning eyes shut and bracing himself for impact.

The pain never comes.

When he opens his eyes, he sees Kakashi gaping at him, chidori halfway into his chest. He hears a crack, and as he’s staring at Rin’s pale face, Guruguru shatters.

“Oh,” Obito says. “Shit.”

He then promptly passes out.

Somehow, the seal on his heart had been ripped to shreds. Minato-sensei says something about Kakashi’s chidori, which Obito accepts, if only so he doesn’t have to think about how it’s suspiciously convenient to the plot.

Unfortunately, Rin’s seal remains. Or… kind of unfortunately. After the whole trying to kill herself thing - which Kushina berates her heavily for, before taking her under her wing - she manages to start developing a tentative friendship with Isobu, which only serves to make her all the more terrifying.

And when it comes time to finally tell everyone what happened to him…

“Well you see,” Obito begins, “There was an old man who wanted my help.”

“What? With his groceries?” Kakashi asks dryly, even though his visible eye betrays his worry.

“World peace, actually,” Obito answers cheerfully. When everyone looks at him skeptically, he adds, “I wish I were kidding.”

“And who was this old man?” the Sandaime asks, sounding perfectly neutral.

Obito eyes the council - which Minato had to fight tooth and nail to ensure that his team (plus Kushina) could be around for the questioning - and hums, lips curling into a smirk. “ The ghost of the Uchiha ,” he intones in a deep voice, because he, like the old man, is also a dramatic bitch. “ Madara Uchiha .”

The room erupts into chaos.

Chapter Text

“Mercenary-san?”

Obito turns slightly, nearly doing a double take when he sees Haku standing only a few steps away from him.

“You’re not dead?!” he blurts out, then laughs nervously when Zabuza’s head snaps in his direction. “Uh, I just mean… Well, that situation the other day seemed pretty dangerous, no?”

Zabuza bristles like an offended peacock, but Haku merely smiles. “It was,” he admits, a touch sheepish. “If it weren’t for your warning, I’m not sure that we would’ve survived.”

“We could’ve taken on those pests,” Zabuza denies, and Haku blinks at him.

“Ah, of course Zabuza-sama,” he says, looking apologetic. “But you were injured, and the risk was rather great…”

At that, Zabuza deflates a little, like he’s been told off even though his student’s words were entirely genuine. Obito might’ve thought the whole interaction was adorable if it weren’t for the fact that it was an A-Rank missing nin and his deadly-as-hell student carrying out the conversation.

When Haku smiles like Zabuza has just handed him the world and Zabuza honest-to-god (or honest-to-sage?) turns away with red-tinged ears, muttering something about ‘cheeky brats,’ Obito rescinds his previous statement. Despite the fact that these two could easily commit murder on just about anyone but S-Ranked ninjas and plot-protected protagonists, their dynamic is almost sickeningly charming.

He does wonder what they’re doing here, though, since he’s fairly certain that this town isn’t anything particularly special. And, because he has little self preservation instincts, he asks.

Zabuza looks disgruntled at their moment having been interrupted - what a protective father, Obito thinks with amusement, then promptly wrestles his expression into something neutral so he doesn’t chopped up into little pieces of cold cutbitos - but as usual, Haku is there to save the day.

“I’m afraid we can’t share the specifics,” Haku apologizes - and it’s genuine too, which just proves that he really is too kind for this world - “But I can say that we’re completing a mission. Nothing at all strenuous.”

Obito, finding the comment a bit odd, looks over Zabuza and Haku once again. This time, he can’t help but notice that Zabuza is favoring his right leg. As soon as the man sees him looking, he shifts his stance and Obito can practically feel him glare holes into his head.

“...Fair enough,” he eventually lets out a little sheepishly, looking more towards Haku even though he can still see Zabuza’s glare out of the corner of his eye. “That’s why I’m here, too. Was here,” he corrects a moment later, since he’d been on the way out of the town when he’d been stopped.

“Oh?” Haku asks, cocking his head to the side like a puppy. “I was under the impression that you were a bounty hunter.”

Obito’s expression spasms. “Ahah, yeah. Totally. Not. No. No, I’m not a bounty hunter,” he says because it’d honestly be stupider to lie. When Zabuza gives him an odd look, he remembers what he told them when they’d first met. “Just an… uh… opportunist.”

Haku makes a noise of understanding, while Zabuza eyes him consideringly, as if he doesn’t quite believe him, but will refrain from calling him out on it. 

Obito hums, then pauses, looking between the two of them as a terrible idea creeps into his mind. “...But you two are in a similar position, aren’t you?”

Haku and Zabuza share a glance. “We are,” the former offers, looking curious.

“Hm… So, how would you feel about a team-up?”

“What.”

Obito winces at Zabuza’s flat tone. “Well, I’m just thinking that we could help each other out here. I know that the jobs around here don’t make much money, so wouldn’t it be better if we went after something worth more money together?”

Both of them inspect him for a full minute, and Obito finds himself sweating as he wonders if he’s just made a terrible mistake.

Eventually though, a glint of amusement enters Zabuza’s eyes.

“You’re new to this.”

Obito freezes, embarrassed at having been read so easily. “...Well, I wouldn’t say that—” he scrambles to say, but is cut off by the man’s harsh laugh.

“Zabuza-sama,” Haku pipes up, the lovable saint, “I wouldn’t mind. I’m only where I am today because you chose to help me, after all. Besides…” he trails off, eyes flicking towards Zabuza’s leg.

The man’s expression sours, but Obito can see him folding like a wet piece of paper. Adorable, he thinks again, then wonders, a little horrified, if this kind of thing is why Kakashi always calls Team 7 his ‘cute little genin.’

“Fine,” Zabuza bites out, turning the full force of his gaze on Obito and causing him to let out an embarrassing ‘eep.’ “But you don’t get in the way.”

“Yes sir!” Obito blurts out, throwing his hand up in the salute. He flushes immediately when Zabuza’s expression falls flat, which is followed up by a soft giggle from Haku.

Quite honestly, he doesn’t know how he’s survived this long, or even at all.

“I spy with my little eye—”

“Shut the fuck up before I shove your little eye down your throat.”

Obito swallows his next words, but can’t help from grumbling under his breath. “So violent…”

Zabuza eyes him, incredulously, which… fair, considering the world they’re in.

“Oh,” Haku says, unphased as ever, “There he is.”

Each of their gazes snap onto a man wandering along a path, barely even trying to hide who he is.

“Huh,” Obito lets out. “That was easy.”

Zabuza grunts. “He’s almost an A-Rank. Watch out.”

The man must hear him, because he slows down, raising his gaze to look at them. Before he can make a move, Zabuza barks out Haku’s name, and the boy wastes no time in launching a barrage of senbon towards the shinobi, who promptly curses in response.

Zabuza goes after him next, swinging his gigantic sword in a wide arc. Obito’s sure that if this world really followed anime logic (in terms of appearance), his eyes would be sparkling, because that’s fucking cool . It’s too bad that he’d probably fall over if he tried to pick up a sword like that. Even if he reinforced himself with chakra, it probably wouldn’t have the full effect. Not that he had sword training, so—

“Get a fucking move on!”

Obito yelps at Zabuza’s shout, practically throwing himself forward to cut off the shinobi. It does have its intended effect, though, and Haku manages to nail him with a couple of senbon. Not anywhere vital, so he’s able to leap away, but he’s starting to get run down. While Haku and Zabuza attack in tandem, Obito usually lures him into position so their strikes can land.

The fact that everything was going to plan probably should’ve been the first sign that something was wrong. The second would be the way the target shifts his stance and slams his hand on the ground, causing tendrils of ink to shoot outwards into spiraling patterns.

Obito barely has time to process the use of fucking fuinjutsu before Zabuza drags him backwards, and he narrowly avoids being exploded.

“This wasn’t on the file,” Zabuza bites out, eyes flicking around the cloud of dust.

“It doesn’t look very advanced,” Haku says quietly from beside them. “It’s raw, almost.”

Zabuza clicks his tongue. “Probably just copied that shit from a scroll and hoped for the best.”

“Well it certainly worked,” Obito says warily, watching as the dust settles. “Is that—” he cuts himself off, suddenly feeling queasy. “Oh.”

“Figures,” Zabuza says with a frown, like the pile of flesh and bone before them is just a minor inconvenience. “What a dumbass.”

“It looks like the scroll survived,” Haku points out, stepping forwards to lift it from what’s left of the man. Obito swallows back bile.

“Let’s get this back,” Zabuza says, turning around, only to pause at the sight of Obito’s expression. “Oh, fuck no. I’m not dealing with this shit.”

“Zabuza-sama?” Haku lets out, following his gaze. “Ah.”

“I’m fine,” Obito says, despite being very much not fine.

Obito has seen dead bodies before, in both lives. But the ones Before were dressed and laying within coffins, and the ones as Obito had been distant, as if there was a foggy haze clouding his memories.

But this is vivid . 

(Maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad, had the man they were sent after not painted the ground red with his own blood, or had he looked more human than flesh.)

“—breaths, Mercenary-san. Do not feel ashamed. This happens to most.”

Obito blinks away the black spots in his vision - ones he hadn’t even noticed swallow his sight - and stares at Haku, uncomprehending. The boy looks back not with pity, but with kindness.

“Are you alright now?”

Obito opens and closes his mouth, throat dry. “...Huh? I—” he glances around. “Zabuza?”

“He’s inside, turning in the scroll,” Haku says. Obito’s head jerks towards the building they’re in front of. He hadn’t even remembered walking there. “It’s fine, you know. I reacted like this my first few times, too. It’s even worse when you’re the one doing it. But it becomes…” He hesitates. “Not better, but easier. Though I’m unsure if that’s a comfort or not.”

Obito swallows, then forces himself to plaster on a smile. “‘s fine. And it’s Obito.”

“Pardon?”

“My name,” he replies. “It’s Obito.”

Haku blinks at him, then smiles. It makes something in his chest loosen; Haku really is a good kid. “Alright,” he agrees. “Obito.”

Chapter Text

“I hope we meet again in the future, Obito-san,” Haku says with a smile.

“Yeah,” Obito agrees. “You too.”

“Can you two get any more sappy?” Zabuza sneers.

“What, are you jealous?” Obito asks, turning towards the man, whose expression turns thunderous.

“I’d rather swallow my own tongue than ever see your jacked-up face again.”

“Kinky."

“ Fuck off. ”

Haku laughs, hand covering his mouth. “I suppose Zabuza-san is right. We really should get going.”

Obito feels a twist of sorrow, but plasters on a smile nonetheless. “Fine, fine. I’ll let you go for now. But don’t worry, I’ll come and visit with my magic portal powers!”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean.”

“Oh, look at the time!” Obito gasps, looking at his blank wrist. “I really must be going. See you both soon, yes?”

“ You assho—” is the last thing he hears before speeding off towards the sunset.

Or… where the sunset would’ve been, had it nod been midday.

Not that it really matters. The dramatic effect is what he’s really going for, after all.

Chapter Text

“What in the goddamn.”

Obito stares, wide-eyed at the fucking jinchuuriki that skirts around the edge of town, wondering if he’s lost even more of his marbles. But no, it really is a jinchuuriki, and it’s the one that’s built like a brick shithouse, too.

He pauses, but before Obito can panic about being noticed, he sees the man crouch down, facing a bush. Unfortunately, since he’s on the other side of the bush, no matter how much he squints - or just turns on his Sharingan - he can’t see what's going on.

At least until a tiny, mewling kitten steps outside with wobbly legs, and Han starts scratching it behind its ears.

This shouldn't be as cute as it is.

He might’ve dismissed it after a while, had the man not started talking to the kitten in a high-pitched baby voice, calling it a “handsome man,” and cooing about its “fluffy wittle tail.”

Obito, like any other man, has a breaking point, and this just happens to be (one of) his.

He lets out a short, sharp laugh that rings throughout the air. Although he’s quick to slap his hands over his mouth, Han hears him and freezes.

Obito does a remarkable job cosplaying a deer caught in headlights, and can’t even bring himself to move when Han’s widened eyes fall upon him.

“I’m just a figment of your imagination,” he blurts out, then promptly throws himself into kamui without another thought, like the genius he is.

He takes in a breath, peering through the crack in kamui to watch Han glancing between the kitten and the area where Obito had just been standing, clearly bewildered.

“What in the world?” Han lets out quietly.

“Mew,” the cat replies.

Han pauses, briefly, before nodding and lifting the kitten up to his face. “You’re right,” he mutters. “I need a nap.”

The cat blinks and boops him on the nose.

Chapter Text

It’s during one of his sporadic home visits - which aren’t at all stalkerish, he’s just trying to keep an eye on his former teammate, thankyouverymuch - that he finds Kakashi doing his darndest to get down a spoonful of kibble.

Obito watches, fascinated, as his ninken chow down on rice and chicken, and suspects that this doesn’t line up with the man’s initial intent. He’s also fairly certain that, had it not been for Pakkun pointing it out, he wouldn’t have even noticed.

The reason for this little error in judgment becomes quickly clear when Obito catches sight of his flushed face and the cloudy look in his eyes. Kakashi is blatantly sick, though he seems to be insistent on rejecting this fact, judging by the way he hobbles out of his apartment like a geriatric turtle who’s just gone on a three-day bender.

Yeah, no. I can’t, in good conscience, let this continue.

Before Kakashi can so much as catch his breath, Obito catches onto his arm and pulls him through kamui and back into his room. An action he almost immediately comes to regret when Kakashi stumbles before briefly pulling his mask down to vomit on his shoes.

Obito’s full body twitches, but he forces himself to remain calm with a long exhale.

“Alright,” he says, injecting false cheer into his voice, “Let’s get you to bed.”

Kakashi looks up, eyes hazy and brows furrowed. “‘bito?”

“His twin brother, actually,” Obito replies easily.

“Oh,” Kakashi lets out, like that’s a proper answer. To his fever-addled brain, it probably is. Obito uses the brief pause as an opportunity to lead him to his bed, though the moment he’s pushed into a sitting position, he bats Obito’s hands away. “‘m fine.”

“Keep telling yourself that, buddy,” Obito says, half-heartedly throwing a blanket over his former teammate. He may not want him to die or anything, but he’s not about to baby him, either.

Kakashi mutters something under his breath that Obito doesn’t quite catch.

“Hmm?”

“...never do this…,” Kakashi mutters. “Hates me…”

Obito doesn’t hear the full sentence, but he can extrapolate, and he decides that’s far deeper than he wants to go right now, as guilty as he feels.

“Right now he doesn’t,” Obito eventually says, just as Kakashi’s eyes flutter closed. He remains still for all of a moment before he hears the sound of nails clicking on the floorboards.

He disappears into kamui just as Pakkun enters the room, glancing around with his nose held in the air.

Hours later, Kakashi will wake up to a bowl of soup, kept hot through liberal use of plastic wrap and seals, on his bedside table. Beside it is a note apologizing for any I.O.U.s that he may find to be left in his name along with Doug dressed up in a nurse’s costume.

Both disturb him greatly, and leave him wondering if he’s finally lost it. Had Obito heard these thoughts, he’d be wondering how that was questionable in the first place.

Chapter Text

“Ohhhh noooo,” Obito lets out, face growing pale as he finally processes what he’s seeing. “Oh nooooooo.”

“Obito?” Rin says with a frown. “Are you alright?”

Obito tries to speak, but all that comes out is a strangled whine. 

“That’s really not helping, kiddo,” Kushina says, ignoring the exasperated look Minato sends her way.

“If you’re feeling off, Obito, you can go home and rest,” the blond says, clearly attempting to soothe him. Considering the fact that he’s decked out in Hokage robes, Kushina is alive, and both he and Rin are suspiciously not dead or trapped with a crazy plant creature, it doesn’t help in the least.

“I am. Perfectly fine,” Obito says unconvincingly, then blurts out the first thing on his mind. “Sorry, where’s Kakashi’s corpse?”

Everyone in the room blanches.

“That came out wrong,” he hurries to explain. “Like, I’m just assuming he’s dead because he’s not here. Or that you think he’s dead. But he’s not. Probably. I mean, given how canon went, I’d say it’s pretty likely that he’s hanging out with this guy who has major mommy issues, and—”

He cuts himself off upon noticing that Minato looks as if he’s about to sic Inoichi on him.

“I promise I’m not crazy,” he says. You know, like a crazy person. “I can prove it.”

Rin’s face softens, which he’s fairly certain is a bad thing in this scenario. “Obito… We all miss Kakashi, and I know it’s hard, especially on a day like today, but…” She bites her lip. “If you need some time, we’d understand.”

Obito opens and closes his mouth. “Uh. Hm… Yes. Yes, you know what, I need tons of time. Like, a few days maybe. Call this my ten second’s notice. Because I’m going on vacation. Right now. Indefinitely.”

He disappears into kamui without another word, which is perhaps the wrong call given the baffled expressions it leaves on his teammates faces, but he’s already fucked up big time so he supposes that he can just add that to the pile of things to explain later on.

For now, though, he needs to go looking for his other teammate’s not-dead body, and hopefully bring him back to Konoha alive.

“What are we doing?”

“Checking out canon locations,” Obito answers absently, then freezes. Slowly, he turns to meet an amused, dark-eyed gaze.

“Hiya there,” Shisui Uchiha says, wiggling his fingers at him. Obito screams.

While Shisui is left in a state of bewilderment at his incredible distraction, Obito takes the chance to hightail it out of there. Unfortunately, he’s blocked by another familiar face, and he finds himself backed into a corner - both figuratively and literally, despite his ability to walk through walls.

“Really though, what are you doing here? Minato seemed really out of it when he gave us this mission,” Shisui comments.

“It’s Hokage-sama,” Itachi corrects blandly, like he’s had this conversation hundreds of times before and knows he won’t win. “What are these ‘canon locations’ you spoke of? Why are you here searching for Hatake-san?”

Obito opens his mouth to lie, then pauses. Really, the worst thing that can happen is that they don’t believe him. Or take him back to Inoichi to melt his brain. Or kill him on the spot. Or—

He derails that train of thought and decides to go with his initial plan, because three heads are better than one, or whatever.

“I have reason to believe,” he says slowly, “That Kakashi is alive.”

Itachi and Shisui exchange a glance.

“Uh-huh,” Shisui draws out slowly, clearly disbelieving. “And what makes you think that?”

“Madara managed it,” he blurts out first, like an idiot. Both of his cousins stare at him, and he decides to bulldoze on before they decide to abandon their niceties and just throw him into a dungeon with a trigger-happy psychiatrist. “There’s this pretty fucked up plan, you see, and since he didn’t get me, I’m assuming he must’ve gotten Kakashi. It’s just science.”

Clearly, his cousins still don’t believe him, the assholes.

“Let me prove it to you,” Obito offers, perhaps a little too hopefully. “If I can’t find him within a week, I’ll go straight back to Konoha with you, no questions asked.”

There’s a brief moment of silence, where Itachi and Shisui seem to have a full conversation with their eyes. Judging by Itachi’s increasingly sour expression, Shisui is winning.

“Five days,” Shisui eventually says, looking smug. “And we’re coming with you.”

Obito resists the urge to pump his fist. “Fine then. Let’s get started.”

“And how do you propose we find a supposedly dead man, who clearly hasn’t left a trail up until this point, and who was a highly acclaimed tracker ninja who would’ve known how to cover up his tracks near-perfectly by the time he made jounin?” Itachi asks.

“Wow,” Obito lets out, blinking. “I think that’s the most I’ve ever heard you speak at once.”

Itachi’s expression falls deadpan, while Shisui snorts.

“Don’t worry about it,” Obito waves him off after a moment. “We’ll find him.”

He doesn’t say that he has no idea what the fuck he’s doing either, but he gets the feeling that both of his cousins can read the not-so-hidden subtext here.

“We’ll just have to start looking in places he might like,” Obito says, then grins as realization dawns on him. “And I know just where to start.”

“I don’t see how browsing… this … is helping,” Itachi says, looking hilariously disgusted - for him, anyway - with the orange book Obito has in his hand.

“This totally makes sense, I promise,” Obito says, skimming the writing between glances around. They’d been at this for three days now, going between bookstores, but he hadn’t bothered actually looking at the thing until now. “...Damn, this is awful,” he mutters, then raises a considering brow. “The writing itself is actually pretty decent though.”

“Let me see,” Shisui says, grabbing the book. As he reads over the page, his eyes widen. “What the fuck?”

“I know,” Obito stresses. “I can’t believe Kakashi reads this stuff.”

“I mean, he was known for having a stick up his ass, right?” Shisui mentions, scratching his chin. “He’s gotta get his frustrations out somehow.”

“Obito, Shisui.”

“Maybe,” Obito replies. “Or maybe he just likes fucking with people. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to tell.”

“Obito.”

“I’m kinda wishing I had properly met the guy now. The way you talk about him seems totally different from all of the st—”

“ HEY, ” Itachi vocalizes, not quite yelling but scarily loud for him. Before either Obito or Shisui can say a thing, he jerks his head to the side, and they follow his gaze to a suspicious-looking man in a cloud-covered cloak.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Obito lets out, disbelieving.

“I thought this was your plan?” Shisui asks.

“I didn’t think it’d work this well.”

“Quiet,” Itachi murmurs, briefly flicking his Sharingan on. “Ah…” he lets out, eyes slightly wider than before. “His hair is silver…”

“Holy fuck,” Obito breathes. “We got him, boys…”

“What now?” Shisui whispers.

“Autobots, roll the fuck out.”

“What?”

The moment Kakashi leaves the building, Obito follows after him, leaving his cousins scrambling to chase after him.

“What are you—” Itachi begins, but Obito doesn’t hear the rest, because he’s too busy literally launching himself at his teammate.

“YIPPEE KAY YAY MOTHERFUCKER!” he screeches, then latches onto Kakashi’s back like a demented, sentient backpack.

Kakashi tries to buck him off, but Obito’s grip is unwavering, honed by years of sneak attacks on unsuspecting friends, and they both go tumbling to the ground. Obito bares his teeth in a wide grin, tears off the man’s hat, and—

“Huh,” he lets out, blinking. “I really thought this would be one of those Scooby Doo situations, but it really is you.” Kakashi glares up at him from the ground, and Obito squints. “Probably one of those plot things,” he dismisses, then grins. “So, hey buddy, how the fuck have you been?”

“I thought we were supposed to— oh my fucking god that’s Kakashi Fucking Hatake.”

“It is,” Obito agrees cheerfully, smirking when he sees Shisui’s dropped jaw. “I told you so~”

“Get off of me,” Kakashi snarls from beneath him.

Obito blinks. “Uh, no. I don’t want you running off, dumbass.”

“How are we going to get him to come with us?” Itachi asks, frowning at the silver-haired man.

“Preferably with cooperation, but I suppose we can use force if necessary,” Obito answers, then turns towards Kakashi. “Whaddya say, buddy boy?”

The man opens his mouth to speak, only to choke on his words. Obito frowns, then abruptly remembers that he might have a little problem.

“Ah, shit. Force it is,” Obito mutters, then turns towards his cousins. “He has a seal on his heart. We need to get that thing off, or we’re not getting anywhere.”

“How are we meant to do that?” Shisui asks, having (barely) collected himself. “It’s not like a seal master will just drop out of the sky or something.”

Obito briefly allows himself to imagine Minato-sensei falling from a skyward kamui before shaking his head. “No, but we can go to one. C’mon.”

“What—” Shisui begins, only to get cut off when Obito drags them all through a kamui. 

He regrets it almost immediately when his temples begin to pulse and his eye starts to bleed, but it’s a small price to pay for salvation.

Anyway, the point is, they all drop in the middle of the Hokage’s office, where Minato, Rin, and Kushina are still freaking out, and Obito waves at them from a pile of squirming limbs.

“Hey,” he greets, pointing down at his not-dead teammate while smugly taking in the gaping expressions on everyone else in the room. “Found him.”

“And that’s how I saved Kakashi. The end.”

“Woah,” Naruto lets out, starry-eyed. “That’s so cool.”

Kakashi walks up to smack him on the back of his head. “Stop telling people that. I was not a damsel in distress.”

Obito grumbles, rubbing the spot that had been struck. “Might as well have been. Don’t I deserve a little love for that, at least?”

“You suggested that I Chidori myself in the heart and have Rin heal me when Minato-sensei and Kushina-nee couldn’t immediately fix the problem,” Kakashi points out dryly.

“I didn’t say all of my ideas were good,” Obito defends.

Kakashi rolls his eyes, like the rude asshole he is. Sometimes, Obito regrets saving him at all (he blatantly lies).

“At least I got you away from that—” Obito starts, only to pause. “Wait. Did we ever do anything about Zetsu?”

There’s a brief moment of silence where Kakashi and Obito exchange looks.

“...Impromptu vacation?”

Kakashi’s expression hardens. “I’ll bring the weed killer.”

“This is so therapeutic,” Obito says over the sounds of plant-man screeches. “I do wish that he’d stop screaming about his mother though.”

Kakashi huffs. "Just keep spraying."

Chapter Text

Obito wouldn’t consider himself a scholar, but he doesn’t believe that he’s exceptionally stupid , either.

Times like these leave him wondering if that’s the brain damage talking. Half his skull was crushed by a gigantic boulder as a teenager, after all.

He eyes the bounty in his book with trepidation. He’d accepted the thing on a whim after coming across a station, and now he’s regretting it, just a tad.

Maybe more than a tad.

But can he really be blamed for that? Even though he went out with Haku and Zabuza that one time, all of them know how shitty that went. Not to mention the fact that he’s not fought properly once since he became the main character of some sort of terrible fanfiction, even though that’s like… a ninja’s whole thing.

(He’d say it was assassination, or stealth, or anything along those lines, but that would be blatantly lying. If Chidori actually worked as an assassination jutsu in a context where everyone around wasn’t already knocked out or dead, he’d buy a hat just to eat it.)

But he digresses.

His target is an incredibly shitty guy, which is probably the main reason his sense of judgment was briefly defenestrated, and he found himself buying the stupid bingo book and marching out without a plan in sight, as-per-usual.

(He’s finding his lack of foresight and tendency to leap and not look at all increasingly ironic, considering the fact that he has one of the world’s most powerful dojutsu in his eye socket.)

He really does keep getting off track, though. Which is probably why he doesn’t immediately notice bitch-boy walk by for nearly half a minute before doing a double take.

“Oh, Fuck,” he lets out with a capital ‘F.’ The guy doesn’t hear him, somehow, and to be quite honest, Obito doesn’t really hear himself either. Instead, he’s treated to the sound of his heart doing its best to mimic the sound of poorly made EDM music as his stress skyrockets . 

This is fine, he thinks, even as imaginary fire licks at his skin. He’s a dog in a wooden chair, and his house is burning down.

Perhaps that’s a bit of an exaggeration, but he’s freaking out ; his palms are sweaty, knees weak, arms heavy, mom’s goddamn spaghetti. 

He reaches forwards and taps the guy on the shoulder before his brain can turn into goop.

The man turns around, a scowl on his face, and Obito flashes him a grin.

“Heyo,” he greets cheerfully. “You from around here?”

“What-”

“I’ve never been here, you see, and I’m looking for the best places to look around. You know, aside from the hot springs.”

The man stares at him like he’s insane. Obito’s grin widens.

“No,” the man tells him flatly, and turns back around. It’s very rude, but he hadn’t really expected much from the ass considering his reputation, so he doesn’t take it to heart.

“It’s just so warm here,” Obito continues, moving to walk alongside the man. “I mean, I’m not from anywhere cold , but it’s like… super humid, isn’t it?”

“I don’t care.”

“Oh, and there are so many people here,” he says, placing a hand on his cheek and doing his best impression of a country bumpkin. “It’s just all a bit overwhelming.”

The man growls, and just before he swings, Obito jerks to the side.

“You could hurt someone like that,” he points out, then ducks when the man attempts to attack him again.

“I don’t have time to deal with idiots,” he hisses, pulling out a pair of brass knuckles from who-knows-where.

Another reason that Obito probably shouldn’t have been as nervous as he was: this man is a civilian with even less shinobi training than an Academy dropout.

“That escalated quickly,” Obito chirps out, and somehow manages to grab the man’s hand when he attempts to clock him in the face. He then promptly catches the other one, and they both stare at each other for a good five seconds before Obito knees him in the groin. “Sorry,” he says, not actually sorry at all.

The man groans, eyes flicking to the side like he’s expecting something. “Who the fuck are you?!”

“I am… inevitable,” Obito answers, then promptly knocks him out. He stares at the fallen figure and places a hand on his chin. “That was surprisingly anticlimactic.”

And then a kunai flies out of nowhere and scrapes against his cheek.

“Ah,” he lets out then, a little nervous. “Maybe I should’ve expected that.”

He whirls around just in time to throw up a block in response to a high-powered kick, though he does grimace when a sharp pain runs through his arm. The shinobi launches back off a moment later and, unfortunately, doesn’t even try to make conversation in order to give Obito time to collect himself, the rude bastard.

Instead, he goes straight after him again, and his two friends do, too.

“Can’t we all just talk this out?” Obito asks a little desperately, then yelps upon dodging another kunai that’s aimed for his heart. “ Rude! ” he exclaims, and throws out a kick of his own. 

It doesn’t take anyone out, and probably makes him look like a flailing idiot.

“You shouldn’t have taken this bounty,” one of the shinobi tells him.

No kidding , Obito agrees, but forces a smile and hopes he isn’t backed into a metaphorical corner.

He doesn’t actually know how, nor will he be able to do anything but make vague, overexaggerated hand gestures about the incident later on, but he does manage to strike one of them down, at one point. It’s a complete accident, and has Obito staring dumbly at the fallen body for a moment before he’s rudely reminded that he’s in the middle of a fight.

“You bastard!” one of the shinobi, a different one from before, calls out and launches towards Obito with a raised kunai.

“Oh fuck ,” Obito blurts out, and chokes on a pained wheeze when it slides straight through the meat of his arm.

Why the fuck , he asks himself as his eye waters, would you think it’d be a good idea to block a blade with your flesh ?! Especially when you have fucking kamui ?!

He can’t help but let out a garbled noise when the kunai is yanked back out, and he watches as blood seeps through his sleeve.

He hates this, he decides. Very much.

But time waits for no man, and he forces himself to keep soldiering on. Clearly, he needs the experience if he’s going to survive against anyone in this world. These guys are no-namers, for Doug’s sake.

With an exhale, he shifts his stance and wrestles his expression into something neutral. He must become one with the Dragon Warrior, or whatever.

(Is he going mad from blood loss? Or is that just his usual brand of insanity?

A question for another time.)

The shinobi who’d launched at him with the knife touches down, and Obito throws himself forwards before he can properly regain his balance. He’s forced to block with the bloodied knife, which he slashes towards him once again.

Okay, okay, okay , he thinks frantically as it comes towards his head, Magic bullshit intangibility power, go!

It works, though not before it leaves a small cut in his temple. Obito looks at the stunned shinobi, who’s hand is halfway through his head, and decides not to question it.

It’s not hard, when there’s - once again - a hand through his head , and he feels like his brain is being tickled.

Before he can take the guy out via projectile vomit, he’s attacked from the back by his friend, and he intangi-fies his entire body, causing them to stumble into one another. He really can’t tell if these guys suck, or if he’s just getting horribly lucky.

Considering the fact that Obito’s still not dead despite everything that’s happened to him, he thinks it might be the latter.

Before the two can collect themselves, he knocks them both out. It takes two hits for one, because he misses the first time around, but he’s eventually left standing over a pile of unmoving - but still alive - bodies.

He forces out a breath and, after a glance around, drags them through kamui.

“Here’s the bitch,” he says to the bounty office worker upon arrival. She stares at him for all of a second before dismissing the fact that half his body is covered in his own blood. He wonders if she sees things like this a lot.

Probably. Though he’d be willing to bet that the blood doesn’t usually belong to the person bringing in the bounties.

Obito accepts his reward happily - which isn’t an exceptional amount of money, but still adds up to more than a dozen granny-given missions combined - and completely forgets that he has three unconscious ninjas in his subspace for the time being.

When the worker steps into the back a few hours later, she finds three shinobi tied up with a giant red bow, along with a note that tells her to “Keep the change. Praise Doug.”

She checks her list, notes that one is a C-Rank while the other two are B-Ranks, and wonders what kind of idiot would just let those bounties go.

Chapter Text

“Is that what I fucking think it is? ”

Obito doesn’t quite gape at the sight before him, but it’s a close thing. It’s not every day that someone accidentally stumbles upon one of Orochimaru’s bases, after all.

Granted, he’s fairly certain it’s abandoned. No matter how far he stretches out his (admittedly iffy) chakra sense, he doesn’t manage to catch onto anything. And it’s not entirely random, because he’s been sent on a mission to retrieve some missing item in this general area (which is rather concerning, now that he knows it must be one of Orochimaru’s fucking bases). But still, this is… well, freaky.

He shouldn’t go inside. There might be traps, or horrors untold, or any number of things that’ll leave him dead or mentally scarred for life.

Obito sighs, turns around, and uses kamui to get to the front entrance.

Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back…

Plus, if all else fails, maybe someone will take pity and resurrect him. It happened once, after all.

(And if not… maybe he’ll end up somewhere nicer next time, like the Pokemon world or something. Hopefully. If he ended up somewhere like Demon Slayer or Attack on Titan, he’d lose what little marbles he still had.)

Slowly, he leans forwards and glances around. He can’t see any traps, but that doesn’t mean there’s none hidden anywhere. Orochimaru has had experience with numerous types of dojutsu and is a genius, after all; Obito wouldn’t be surprised if the snake Sannin had backup plans for each and every scenario imaginable.

Or not imaginable, even. The guy’s a bit of a freak, and Boruto’s dad should be damn glad that Orochimaru had a change of heart (*cough* the writers decided to add in a bullshit asspull *cough*) and decided to help Konoha rather than trying to destroy it again.

He’s fairly certain he could get pretty far, too, by the time Boruto began. He had a jutsu that could friggin Thanos people, for crying out loud.

With that in mind, he moves forwards very cautiously. I.e., He thanks Doug that he has the second most overpowered Mangekyou in existence, plus an arm made of the plothole-filling and/or retcon-indulgent cells that everyone and their mother is after, and abuses the hell out of kamui to make sure that he isn’t brutally murdered the instant he steps inside.

Obito’s boot touches the floor, and—

He doesn’t die. So, that’s nice.

With an inhale, he continues moving forwards. 

What he finds next will shock you.

It’s absolutely nothing. Not at first. Just a bunch of cobwebs and abandoned rooms with some dead rats.

Considering the lack of non-essentials, Obito’s pretty sure that this is one of Orochimaru’s earlier bases. However, knowing about Orochimaru’s general… everything, he also thinks that there must be a lab - or something along those lines - hidden around somewhere.

He’s not sure whether it’s fortunate or not that he’s not wrong .

In one of the rooms, under a half-rotted desk, is a seal he never would’ve noticed without the Sharingan. He knows he really shouldn’t touch unknown seals without knowing what the hell they do - especially after what he saw with that one guy who’d literally exploded himself - but he’s got kamui on his side, and there’s literally nothing else in the entire place, so.

He injects a touch of chakra into the seal and teleports across the room in an instant, instinctively throwing his hands up in a terrible defensive position.

It’s actually a good thing he does, because some sort of needle shoots out at the same time, and literally follows him when he teleports away. Fortunately, since he keeps kamui active, it embeds itself in the wall instead of piercing him through, and he’s able to inspect the thing.

It’s actually a needle acting as the tongue of a metallic snake, which is very on brand for Orochimaru. He honestly doesn’t know why he expected anything less.

Also , it looks like whatever’s inside would’ve probably killed him near-instantly, since it seems like it’s holding some sort of poison. So that’s fun!

He slowly steps away and carefully heads towards the staircase that opens after the needle leaks its contents against the wall. Only when he’s halfway down the stairs does he wonder why the hell Orochimaru hadn’t keyed it to his signature.

…Maybe it was because he had others who needed to get down there? Or he hadn’t thought of it?

He hoped it was something like that. He’s getting really suspicious about all of this plot convenience stuff.

Though… it probably is the latter, honestly. That, or a mixture of several things. Like it was overly complicated, or he’d been arrogant and hadn’t expected anyone to find the place, and if they had, they wouldn’t have gotten past the poison defense.

And they wouldn’t have - not if they couldn’t turn themselves intangible. Even if they’d managed to substitute with something, they would’ve been followed and poisoned nonetheless.

Hm.

Well, he never wanted to be transported into the Narutoverse in the first place, but at times like these, he’s incredibly glad that he managed to get Obito as a skinsuit.

…Did that make him an animatronic ? Was the universe Purple Guy ?

He snorts at his observation before continuing to head down the stairs, loosening his hold on kamui so he doesn’t slip through the floor.

It’s… well, it’s dark, that’s for sure. Without his Sharingan, he wouldn’t have been able to see a goddamn thing.

He wonders, briefly, if it’s because Orochimaru had a dark and spooky vibe going on, before swallowing a (manly) scream when the lights flick on the moment the sole of his boot lands on the bottom stair.

Obito remains still for a full ten seconds before deciding to forget that ever happened. 

When he does bother to look around, the first thing he sees is the gurney in the center of a large room. Afterwards, he spots the chains that line the walls and tries not to think about the stains that paint the floor and walls.

(Dark reds, browns, and dark greens are all undoubtedly body fluids. Disturbing, yes, but not particularly surprising.

The brighter colors - the unnatural ones - are the ones that make him truly uneasy.)

Other than that, there’s not much, aside from the filing cabinets that he figures are at least mostly emptied.

He’s not wrong, as expected. After double and triple checking that he wouldn’t die by opening the drawers, he begins going through them one by one. Aside from a few scattered papers, mostly medical information that he couldn’t make heads or tails of and that wouldn't have been all that concerning if they weren’t inside a torture basement, there’s not much to be seen.

But one of them does hold what he’s looking for. Information about his client’s brother, who’d gone missing decades ago. He had no idea how she came by the information about Orochimaru’s lab, or if she’d known it was his at all, but he supposes that’s not important to him in the long run.

When he reads through the man’s neat notes on the subject, though, he’s reminded, not for the first time, that there are genuine problems in this world. Ones he’ll have to deal with eventually, if he chooses to get involved.

Obito exhales and, after snatching up the notes, closes the drawer. He can’t bring the woman’s brother back, but at least he can give her a bit of closure.

And eventually… Maybe a small sense of vengeance.

Chapter Text

Somewhere out there, Team 7 is chasing down a particularly stubborn ostrich.

Obito, who’s wandering between plains unknown - by him, at least - and engaging in battle with numerous missing nin on the regular, knows which is safer.

The moment he checks in on the group and sees what they’re after, he pulls off the fastest kamui he’s ever done in his life. He, at least, will be safe from evil Big Bird’s wrath.

Maybe he’s exaggerating, but if Australia can lose a war to emus, then S-Rank missing nin (or a man who should be one, if you squint) can get demolished by an irritated ostrich with enough kicking power to take his head clean off.

Horrifying.

Unfortunately, since stalking looking after Team 7 is off the table, he does have to find another way to occupy his attention.

He considers tracking down Zabuza and Haku to see how they’re doing, but he’s fairly certain that if Zabuza sees him so soon to their last encounter, he might get turned into an Uchiha shish kebab, so—

Obito takes the next, logical step and sniffs around Konoha until he finds Danzou’s place of residence, and promptly spends several hours moving everything a centimeter or two to the right.

He doesn’t think he’s ever felt so much joy than he had when he watches Danzou stub his toe for the third time in a row. Yamanakas can buzz off for now, because he will not be deterred from the sweet nectar of schadenfreude.

…Though perhaps he should look into therapy at some point in the future. Maybe when he’s not hiding from sentient aloe vera with mommy complexes, a corpse with more magical bullshit eyes than the Sharingan, a woman with killer (hah) origami skills, and any others who clearly need to pick up a dictionary to learn the definition of peace.

At this point in time, however, he finds himself dropping two kidnapped children (read: trained killers) off on Tsunade Senju’s doorstep before flitting off to cube-land, because his impulse control is absolute shit, and the moment he’d seen that Shin was alive, all common sense was thrown out the window. 

At least he’d managed to grab their files before leaving. Plus, Danzou will probably be distracted with everything he’d set up to mess with him. And Tsunade already took care of Tonton and Shizune (and her teammates, who might as well both be children themselves), so who's to say she can't take care of two incredibly traumatized children who are probably (definitely) emotionally stunted?

…

Yeah, he’s sure that everything will turn out just fine.

Chapter Text

“—that’s what it’s gonna make, bacon pancaaaaaaa— Oh you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

“What?” some random background character lets out. Obito’s expression twists into one of exasperation.

“You’d think this would happen to the main character or something, but noooo , apparently the universe has it out for me specifically.”

“Uh—”

“No, no, you’re right. Maybe it actually likes me, and has a piss poor way of showing favoritism. I, for one, would like a refund on this whole thing.”

“You—”

“But really, what are the odds that this happens not one, not two, not— actually I’ve lost count. And I think that’s the main problem here.”

“What are you talking about?!”

Obito blinks, then looks at the blue-eyed blond that stands on the ground below him.

“Transmigration. Obviously.”

“ What .”

Obito waves his hand flippantly. “Fuck if I know. I’m half-convinced that the Sage has fucked off and decided to play the Sims on automatic mode, or whatever it’s called. Maybe he gets a kick out of this.”

Poor Kakashi, he notices, looks so lost.

“I really have nothing against you,” he tells the silver-haired man apologetically. “The other guy did, though. Much like… basically any other Uchiha, he has a serious complex. Unfortunately, his just happens to be that he’s a bit of an incel.”

Naruto gapes at him.

“Okay, maybe that’s too harsh. But come on , you’d think the guy would stop once and try to think clearly. Oh, but maybe—” he pauses. “Hm. Hmm . Say, does anyone happen to know where the plant man is?”

“Plant man?” Naruto echoes, then yelps when Sakura elbows him in the side.

Obito has no idea what timeline he’s in right now. Were Sakura, Kakashi, Naruto, and like, everyone else ever in the same place like this and all still alive ? He doesn’t think so. But he’s never actually gotten that far in the anime or manga.

Perhaps this is the universe taking pity on him. Or the laziness of a writer who doesn’t want to spoil themselves before they manage to actually get through the whole arc.

But he digresses.

“...Yes,” he says eventually. “Yay high, sometimes cosplays as a venus fly trap, probably one of the ugliest motherfuckers you’ll ever see?”

“ Zetsu? ”

“That’s the bitch!” Obito agrees, snapping his fingers. “You should really kill that guy if you see him. Both versions of him, I mean, but especially the sludgy one. He wants to pull a Gru and steal the moon, except the moon also happens to be his mother. Weird shit.”

Everyone in the near vicinity gapes at him. Their loss if they weren’t listening, he decides. He gave them all an incredibly fair warning.

“...Alright then, have a good one!”

“Where are you going ?!” Naruto blurts out. 

Obito pauses. “Literally… anywhere else except here. But…” He sighs. “Okay, fine. I’ll stick around close enough that you can call me if you need. Just flash the Bat Signal or whatever. And by that, I mean scream my name as loud as you can and I’ll try to make sure you aren’t brutally murdered. Got that?” He glances over the blank looks of the crowd and smiles. “Great. Ja ne!”

And before anyone else can say a word, he pulls off his signature disappearing trick and laughs.

Chapter Text

“—frankly excessive amount of paperwork to get around anywhere, thanks to those exams.”

“The chunin exams? I’ve heard about those, but I’ve never been. My brother has, though. He said that there were children ten times stronger than him.”

“Far more than that. They usually send their best. Now, don’t tell anyone I said this, but it’s like a power play for them, I hear. They only send the strongest brats to other villages.”

“Really?”

“Mm. Those who don’t make the cut have to wait for the ones back home.”

“Ah… Well, I hear Konoha always puts on a good show though. Maybe I’ll try to get off work so I can check it out…”

Obito tunes out the rest of the conversation as it devolves into more general chatter and forces out a breath. He’d known that the chunin exams would roll around eventually, but he hadn’t been counting on it happening so soon.

To be fair, he had been trying to avoid thinking about it at all , but that’s not really important in the grand scheme of things. What is important is the appearance of an S-Rank shinobi who could probably kick his ass six ways to Sunday blindfolded if he so wishes.

He might be over-exaggerating. He might not be. Either way, he thinks he can be forgiven for being worried about the possibility of ending up as another experiment in a snake man’s lab.

But what’s truly incredible, what really cements the idea of him having backwards luck in this world, is the fact that the looming deadline of the chunin exams is not his number one concern at the moment. No, it’s the appearance of two familiar faces that he’d rather have avoided… well, for the rest of his life, preferably.

The moment he sees them approaching, he wants nothing more than to disappear into kamui, where it’s ugly and cube-like but safe . Unfortunately, he doesn’t have the luxury of that option, because his order is still being made.

He should never have stopped to try dango. He blames Itachi for this one. Maybe if he survives this, he’ll check up on him and Kisame later, if only to mess with them. He’s already playing with fire, so he might as well keep the flame burning.

The situation would’ve raised several questions, namely ‘why the hell are Kakuzu and Hidan anywhere near a sweet’s shop?’ but the answer lies not within the town, but within the area nearby. A bounty station is only a little east of the town, so he assumes that they’ve either come from there or are on their way right now. Probably the former, since they aren’t lugging a corpse around with them. 

Either way, he hopes they’re just passing through, since he actually likes having his head connected to his neck.

Though… knowing their style, albeit vaguely, the alternatives for his death are far, far worse. If Hidan manages to get his blood, or if Kakuzu got his hands on his heart—

Well. That’d be unfortunate. Probably. He’s reluctant to make any claims considering his ridiculous existence. Plus, at least one arm is safe, since it’s literally made of Plotirama’s cells.

Or is it? That’s another thing to consider. Could…

Could Hidan take out Zetsu ? He doubts that he ever would go out of his way to do it, but theoretically?

Perhaps that is something to explore when he’s not trying to avoid being seen by two immortal men with less morals than a moldy taquito.

Out of the corner of his eye, he does his best to read Hidan’s lips. “My heathen-senses are tingling.”  

Obito decides that he does not want to know what that means and glances towards Kakuzu. Unfortunately, the man’s mouth is covered by a mask, so he has to go back to watching Hidan’s response for any kind of clue on what he’d said.

It must be something irritating - which is unsurprising, to say the least - because Hidan scowls and jerks his head around to glare at him.

Unfortunately, Kakuzu just so happens to be the one who’s standing closer to the sweet’s shop, which leaves Hidan looking in his direction.

Obito sees the moment he spots him. The way he squints before his eyes widen, and how he jerkily points his way. “It’s that snickerdoodle bitch!” he proclaims. Obito swallows a half-hysterical laugh and takes that as his cue to leave.

“ Sorryfortherushhereyougo ,” he word-vomits at the stunned cashier, who he takes his dango from in a rush before chucking himself into kamui just before Kakuzu turns his head.

As ryo clatters on the counter and Hidan lets out an outraged squawk, Obito chokes on a wheeze.

Doug 1, he thinks a little too giddily, Jashin 0 .

Chapter Text

The chunin exams.

They’re not quite in full swing yet, but he can tell they’re getting there. It’s impossible not to travel down the main roads without eventually coming across someone - usually merchants, though he thinks he may have seen a few shinobi while ghosting around, too - and Konoha is bustling with activity. 

He thinks he may have seen a merchant literally salivating when a group of foreigners entered the village. It was horribly disturbing, and he’s not optimistic enough to believe that he’d imagined it.

So far, there are no immediately recognizable ‘characters,’ aside from the Konoha 12. Even out of them, he’s only really seen most of them in passing, except for Team 8, of whom he’s only seen Kiba by chance. That’s probably a good thing, since when they’re in sight, usually the plot’s waiting just around the corner to crack you over the head with a metal baseball bat before squirting lemon juice in your eye.

The day he sees Gaara, he’s not sure how he’ll react. He could either be normal, or he could whisk him away to somewhere safe and try to get someone to take care of that seal of his. It’s a real tossup at this point.

He has seen a few people from Grass, though he doesn’t really remember any of them. One of them might be the vessel Orochimaru uses - which is a terrifying thought, especially because he doesn’t know if they’ve already been made into a skinsuit by now - but he’s not confident enough to bet on it.

Speaking of, Obito really needs to figure out some sort of plan to keep Snakey McGee away from Sasuke. He’d rather not fight him, primarily because he knows he’d lose horribly, and kamui is more of a last resort, since he doesn’t want Orochimaru to be interested in him.

Ugh. 

Point is, while he’s not a giant fan of Sasuke’s character, it’d be much easier for everyone involved if he didn’t get entranced by hoodoo and go absolutely bonkers anytime soon. He’s already an edgelord, and Shippuden Sasuke is far worse, so he’s not looking forward to that. Hopefully, he won’t have to see it, period.

He won’t, if all goes well. But he knows better than to hinge his plans on mere hopes, because even “try not to earn a Darwin Award” is a better plan than “hopefully this goes well.” He hadn’t realized how much he relied on kamui in the past, and now he’s paying the price. 

At least he won’t have to start totally panicking for another few days. Everything’s still being set up, so now he’s just waiting in anticipation. Very, very anxious anticipation.

It doesn’t help that the only things he really remembers about this whole event are that Orochimaru appears, Naruto knocks Kiba out with the indefensible power of crop-dusting before kicking Neji’s ass in the next event, Shikamaru forfeits like an asshat, and Hayate dies (the last of which is a core memory for reasons unknown, but he might as well keep it from happening if he can).

There’s also a vague recollection of Orochimaru’s tongue and him being ‘excited,’ which really makes him wonder if he intends to speak in innuendos half the time, or if Jiraiya had more of an effect on him than he thought.

Though—

Now that he’s thinking about it, doesn’t this whole thing happen because Naruto needs to pee or something? Or is that before everything goes to shit? Either way, that’s… not really something he can change. Unless he like, tapes a mysterious note to his mirror or something that tells him to take a leak before the scroll-based section of the exams.

…Perhaps that’s something to think about. A half-assed effort to get Team 7 ahead of the game, if you will.

Either way he’ll eventually have to step in, which means he needs a just-in-case disguise! He’s already got a voice ready for use, because Orochimaru wasn’t around when he’d been fucking around as Tobi, so he just needs an outfit. Maybe he’ll dress as Gai and freak him the fuck out or something.

Haha, no.

He’ll probably just end up wearing a mask and something to cover up his skin. If he sees something like a sparkly, pink haori though, he will drop everything to buy it so he can distract Orochimaru in the only way he knows how: ‘acting’ like a complete and total buffoon to catch him off guard.

And, you know. He’ll try not to die. Because that would kinda suck.

Obito lets out a dramatic sigh as he presses his hand against his chin. This whole situation - and pardon him for his Nara-ese - is just so Troublesome™.

Chapter Text

Obito nearly falls out of a tree when he sees Gaara arrive. Partially because holy shit, Gaara, and partially because his eyes are actually ringed.

He’d always thought that the kid just had major eyebags. He does, but he’s also unintentionally cosplaying a panda. Or, in his case, a tanuki.

Also, as it turns out, Gaara’s team isn’t the only one sent from Sand. There are like, three others, though none of them look particularly interesting. Even if he hadn’t known the proceeding of events, he’d wager that they’d all be taken out even before making it to the finals.

Anyway, Obito only sees their little group - Gaara's team, that is - because they manage to get lost on the way to their hotel, somehow. Judging by the way Temari keeps shooting glares at Kankuro, Obito’s willing to bet that it’s somehow his fault.

He really should just leave them alone. They’ll eventually make it to their destination either way - it just might take them a little longer than expected.

But Doug, if he isn’t curious.

After far less hesitation than he should have, Obito grabs half of his disguise from kamui and teleports around the corner before starting a slow walk down the road.

When he hears footsteps growing closer, he shifts to the side. It’s not until he hears a brief scuffle that he bothers looking back. Within the same moment, Gaara stops in place and releases a burst of unconcentrated killing intent, causing both of his siblings to pale.

Before he can say a word, Obito turns around. “Is everything alright?”

There’s a brief pause before three gazes snap onto him. He offers a casual smile from beneath his facemask, Kakashi-style.

“We’re fine,” Temari answers with a too-polite smile when she realizes that no one else is going to respond. 

“Yeah r— fucking stop that!” Kankuro hisses, rubbing his forearm. Temari drops her elbow, somehow managing to glare at her brother without ever dropping her smile. “What? We’re fucking lost!”

“And who’s fault is that?”

“Well maybe if you hadn’t—”

“Stop that,” Gaara rasps. Although he’s quiet, his voice almost seems to pierce through the air.

“S-sorry, Gaara,” Temari eventually manages to get out, while Kankuro nods and lets out a nervous laugh.

Obito frowns at the interaction before smoothing out his expression. “You said you’re lost?”

The redhead’s gaze shifts towards him. After a moment, he intones, “We are trying to locate our hotel.”

“I’m sure I could tell you where it is,” Obito offers. He’s not lying, either; he’s spent many a day scouring around every corner of Konoha out of masochistic boredom, and has practically memorized its main layout by now. 

…In theory, anyway. He will admit freely that he is not talented at focused recollection. Hopefully off-brand muscle memory would guide him through this one.

“You’re a shinobi from this village?” Gaara asks, looking him up and down.

Well my name’s on a pretty (morbidly) cool rock that says I was, but I’m not sure if my falsified expiration date cancels out my status or not, so it’s a tossup, he doesn’t say.

Instead, he hums in response. “What’s this hotel’s name?”

Gaara’s eyes narrow, though he doesn’t call him out on his avoidance of the question. “Temari.”

The blonde startles, then glances between her brother and Obito before answering. “The Red Maple Hotel.”

Obito chokes on a laugh. How on-brand for Konoha.

Despite his amusement, he’s not surprised in the least. He’s pretty sure half the streets around here are named after some tree or plant. The only exception is the area around the newer Uchiha Compound, which is blatantly petty and frankly depressing, because he knows that must’ve been the Council’s decision rather than the Uchiha’s.

Unfortunately, he doesn’t actually know where that is, but he does know where most of the competitors have been heading, so it must be somewhere around there.

“I’ll take you there,” he says, and without waiting for a response, turns to walk back the way they came.

“Wh— you’re joking!” Kankuro lets out, while Temari breathes out an irritated sigh. To his surprise, the group follows him without protest, and he eventually slows down so he’s not greatly outpacing them.

“So, you’re here for the chunin exams, yeah?” he asks, eyes flicking towards them.

Temari and Kankuro share a glance before the former nods, clearly deciding that there’s no reason to lie.

“From Suna, too,” Obito adds lightly. “What’s that like?”

Temari frowns, just barely. Not out of distaste, he thinks, but she doesn’t understand if he’s trying to get at something else. “It’s fine.”

“I’ve never been,” Well, at least to my knowledge anyway, “But I’ve heard a lot about it.”

Suddenly, each of the genin look more alert. “Oh, really?”

Yeah, I’ve heard that the sand is coarse and rough and irritating and it gets everywhere. Also, apparently it’s a total bitch to get out of your clothes, and a number of other TMI things that I don’t care to think about ever again, much less repeat.

“Nothing bad,” he eventually settles upon. “How does it compare to Konoha?”

“It’s very green here,” Kankuro inputs dryly, rolling his eyes when Temari shoots him a glare.

“Lots of chlorophyll to munch on,” Obito agrees, because he just says whatever pops into his head, apparently.

Kankuro pauses. “What?”

“Yeah, you know, the stuff that makes the leaves green,” he continues. In for a penny, in for a pound, and all that. “Some people just pluck them off of trees for a quick snack.”

Both Temari and Kankuro look faintly disturbed, and even Gaara looks mildly constipated. “What?” Kankuro repeats, not able to hide the incredulity in his voice.

“It’s faster than photosynthesizing, so a lot of shinobi use ‘em like ration bars.”

“People don’t photosynthesize,” Gaara tells him suddenly and intently.

Obito sniffs, shaking off his brief surprise at the redhead’s response. “Of course they do. How else would they get their nutrients?”

“You have restaurants everywhere,” Temari points out.

“Oh, those? Yeah, that’s just for fun.”

“For fun, he says,” Kankuro whispers not-very-quietly. It takes everything Obito has not to burst out laughing.

“I’m surprised you didn’t know,” he eventually says, once he’s able to compose himself. “But I guess it could always be a hazing thing.”

“Hazing thing?” Gaara echoes.

“When superiors play a joke on the newbies for a laugh,” Obito explains solemnly.

Gaara pauses, then narrows his eyes. “You’re lying.”

“I’d never.”

“Then prove it,” the redhead demands. His siblings look caught halfway between terror and desperate intrigue.

Obito stares at the genuine curiosity in Gaara’s eyes and decides that sacrifices must be made. The next time they pass a tree, he pulls a small leaf off of a branch. Then, without breaking eye-contact, he lifts the bottom of his mask and places the leaf on his tongue before beginning to chew.

The Sand team looks on in horror.

After a long, arduous process, he eventually swallows. “Delicious,” he proclaims with little inflection.

“You—”

“Oh, hey, look, we’re here,” Obito interrupts, looking up at the hotel. When they all turn to follow his gaze, he spirits away within an instant and proceeds to spend the next ten minutes trying to wash out his mouth with prayers and a liberal use of toothpaste.

Even as the awful taste of leaf-residue lingers, he erupts into hysterics at the HD image he’d captured of the Sand genins’ gobsmacked expressions.

Worth it.

Chapter Text

Obito may have fucked up, just a little bit.

When he stumbles upon one of Minato’s old Hiraishin kunai, it’s by complete accident. But it’s there, so he does the only reasonable thing he can in that situation and decides to take it as some sort of fucked up souvenir.

He does not expect it to warp his kamui into something unrecognizable before kicking his ass back to the founding of Konoha. But life hates him, so it does. And now he’s here, spitting out mouthfuls of saliva-soaked dirt and hanging on the outskirts of the skeleton of the village.

And also sitting on the other end of Tobirama Senju’s red-eyed stare, as you do.

“...Lovely weather we’re having,” he says a little hysterically. The other man’s eyes narrow, and he’s barely able to suppress an audible gulp.

At least the Warring States period wasn’t still in full swing. At least now he can try to talk himself out of this one. Somehow.

“Would you like to buy some Girl Scout cookies?”

He blinks. Tobirama blinks. He stares up at the sky and begs Doug to strike him down.

“Uchiha,” the other man intones slowly, “What are you doing here?”

Obito wants to reply, he really does, but all he can think is, Oh fuck, I totally forgot that I’m an Uchiha.

Tobirama clears his throat, and Obito startles. “Oh. Uh… Taking a stroll…?”

“A stroll?” Tobirama replies dubiously.

“A stroll,” Obito agrees like a dysfunctional parrot. “The leaves are very green around here. Very nice to look at.”

What the fuck is wrong with me.

Tobirama frowns and eyes him like he’s a dangerous specimen, or perhaps a particularly dense drunk. Obito can’t find it in himself to be offended.

“I should probably go home now,” Obito tells him, pushing himself off the ground. He does not know how to get home, but that is a problem for later.

“Wait,” Tobirama says, causing him to freeze in place. “What is your name?”

There’s a brief moment of silence in which Obito has to physically swallow back the urge to reply with ‘your mom.’ “Obito,” he eventually manages to say, because he literally has no reason to lie.

Tobirama presses his lips together. “I don’t recall a name like that among the Uchiha.”

Obito resists the urge to gape at him. “You remember every one of them?”

The man simply stares at him, eyes narrowed. Obito gets the feeling that he should not stay here for much longer.

“Well, it was nice chatting with you,” he says quickly, “But I really have to get going. Places to be, things to see, deaths to not die. You understand.”

Tobirama steps forwards, and Obito barely suppresses a squeak.

“No, no, I think you should stay right there. Six feet apart. Stay Covid safe and all that.”

As Tobirama’s brows furrow, his Sharingan lights up, which is probably a bad idea considering the way the man instinctively reaches down to grab his sword, but it’s too late to care about that. He doesn’t waste another moment before disappearing into kamui, where it’s safe and warm and boring and he won’t be killed by uber-powerful village founders.

The last thing he sees before slipping away is Tobirama’s bewildered expression, which he didn’t think the man could even make.

He may have miscalculated.

See, he doesn’t actually know anything about seals. He’s just been staring at the Hiraishin for the past several hours, completely lost on what the fuck he’s meant to do.

It’s looking more and more like he’s going to be forced to become a mysterious rogue with an unknown backstory, and—

Well, aside from the Wattpad cliches, he’ll be stuck in the Founders Era if he can’t figure something out soon. The unfortunate thing is, the only seal master he knows during this time is Tobirama, and… Their parting was rather awkward, to say the least.

Which is why he breaks into his weird sealing shed thing in an attempt to find something to help him out. Considering that the man can literally sense people from countries away, he feels like he really should’ve expected something to go wrong.

And it does. Very, very wrong. Because not only does Tobirama show up, but Hashirama fucking Senju does, too.

Obito immediately drops the papers he’s holding back onto the desk and wiggles his hand into the air. “Oooh, I’m a ghost.”

He will be soon if he keeps this up, either by his own hand or someone else’s.

“You,” Tobirama says, crossing the room disturbingly fast in order to catch Obito’s wrist in his grip. “What are you doing here?”

“Tobi?” Hashirama asks, eyes flicking between the two of them. “Who is this?”

“No one important, I’m sure,” Tobirama answers, at the same time that Obito says, “We’re besties.”

It’s almost like he has a death wish.

For whatever reason, Hashirama chooses to focus on the latter statement, and his eyes well up with tears. “Besties?” he echoes, turning towards Tobirama. “Tobiiii, you have friends?”

“What? No—” Tobirama begins, only to let out a choked noise when Hashirama throws himself at him. Obito stumbles, since the man somehow manages to keep his wrist in his hold even as he jerks backwards.

“I knew you’d find a friend one day,” Hashirama wails. Obito rubs his eye with his free hand and wonders if he’s going insane.

“We are not friends,” Tobirama finally says with a forceful shove, after a full minute of trying to catch the man’s attention. Hashirama steps backwards, sniffling.

“You knew him, and you never mentioned him to me,” he points out. “So you must be—” He cuts himself off, eyes widening as he lets out a scandalized gasp. “Unless…?”

“Stop thinking whatever you’re thinking right now.”

“Are you—”

“Anija.”

“— Secret lovers?!”

Tobirama closes his eyes for a long, pained second. Obito feels like he should be eating popcorn.

“Leave,” Tobirama intones blandly.

“But—”

“One, two—”

“Agh! Don’t start the countdown!” Hashirama whines. “Okay, okay! I’m going! I’ll leave you two… alone.” He sniffles again, heading for the door. “Gah, my baby brother, growing up so fast!”

Tobirama stares him down until he finally opens the door.

“Take care of him, Uchiha-san!” Hashirama calls out. “Don’t let him die alone!”

“Anija.”

“I’m out, I’m out!”

The door finally closes. Obito feels as if he’s just experienced a fever dream.

“Well?”

Obito startles. “What?”

“What are you doing here?” Tobirama asks, voice far colder than before. “In this room, and in this village? It’s clear that you don’t live here.”

Obito opens, then closes his mouth. There’s… really not a lot he can lose here, aside from his last remaining scraps of sanity.

“Technically,” he says slowly, “I do.” Did. “Just… not right now…”

“Not right now,” Tobirama echoes flatly.

“Not in this time …?” Obito says, and it sounds more like a question than a statement. “Uh… more like, several decades from now.”

Tobirama stares. He stares back.

“I wish I was kidding.”

There’s a brief moment of silence before Tobirama presses his lips together. “Say I believe you,” he says, which leaves him absolutely gobsmacked. “How would you manage to end up here?”

“A terrible mix of seals and Sharingan bullshit,” Obito offers a little sheepishly. “I don’t know either.”

Tobirama eyes him for all of a minute before pinching the bridge of his nose. “Wonderful. Well, if you’re telling the truth, we might as well get you back.”

Obito blinks dumbly. “Huh?”

“I’m well-versed in seals. Describe the one you so idiotically tampered with.”

“ I didn’t —” Obito cuts himself off with a huff, still slightly confused by this turn of events. “It’s a variation of your Hiraishin.”

Tobirama frowns. “What kind of variation?”

“I don’t know. It’s on a different kunai.”

The other man looks at Obito like he’s an idiot. Rude.

“...Right. And the Sharingan?”

Obito kindly decides to ignore Tobirama’s unnecessarily mean comments and crosses his arms, definitely not petulantly. “It’s called kamui. It makes a sort of… pocket dimension I guess.” He waves his hand through the air vaguely. “I mostly just use it to teleport.”

“Which is what you did earlier, when we first met,” Tobirama mutters, then raises his gaze once again. “Very well, I’ll find something to fix your issue.”

Obito blinks. “What? Just like that?”

“Are you expecting something else?” Tobirama asks, voice flat.

“Well it seems kinda…” He fumbles for the words, “...Easy.”

In other words, he’s not used to things going right for him. Either this is a once-in-a-blue-moon kinda thing, or it’s an omen that he’s about to die a miserable death.

“Would you like it to be difficult?”

Obito picks up on the irritation leaking through the other man’s voice and waves his hands rapidly. “Aha, no, no, no. No. I’m fine with it being easy, thank you.”

Tobirama eyes him for a moment longer before letting out a huff. “Then stay there. I should be able to figure something out soon enough.”

Obito really wants to ask if he’s just meant to hang around awkwardly for the foreseeable future, but he thinks that Tobirama might snap and shove a kunai through his chest if he does that. Probably not, since the guy is pretty sensible, but he’s not taking any chances.

“Gotcha,” he mutters unnecessarily.

Time passes slowly. Very, very slowly. 

Tobirama is an awful conversationalist, to say the least. Or maybe it’s just because he doesn’t like him. Either way, anything he tries to say is either ignored or responded to with short, boring answers, and Obito eventually decides to distract himself with something else before Tobirama loses it.

It’s not until he’s counted the amount of scars in the floor’s paneling for the second time that there’s finally a break in the incredibly boring pattern.

“What are ‘Girl Scout Cookies’?”

Obito blinks. Once. Twice. “What?”

“You mentioned them before,” Tobirama mutters. “What are they?”

“Uh,” he lets out dumbly. He has no idea how he’s meant to respond to this. “They’re… cookies. There’s a bunch of different flavors, and they’re sold by ‘Girl Scout troops,’ which are basically just groups of little kids who do…” He squints. “Wilderness stuff…? Or survival-y things?” He grimaces. “Either way, it’s to raise money so they can support their troops."

Tobirama remains silent for several minutes. Just as Obito is beginning to wonder if that’s all there’d be to the conversation, he speaks up once again. “And these ‘Girl Scout troops…’ are they anything like shinobi squads?”

Obito blinks, then chokes back a laugh. When Tobirama turns towards him with a light glare, he forcibly smooths out his expression. “No. No, definitely not.” He pauses. “ Well. Maybe. Kinda like a really big genin team. Except with less violence.”

Tobirama turns back towards his table with a slight frown. “And they’re only for girls?”

“Ah… Kinda? Kinda not. There are Boy Scouts, too. There was kind of a mixing thing going on, though…”

The crease in Tobirama’s forehead becomes more apparent. “So these are entirely unrelated to shinobi? Can one of these scouts still become one?”

I have no fucking idea, because they literally do not exist in this universe, Obito doesn’t say. Instead, he shrugs. “Guess so. Scouts are probably more of a little kid thing, though. Or a civilian one. Can’t say it wouldn’t be good for teaching Aca— er, shinobi candidates some survival skills, though.”

Tobirama hums, still frowning. Obito eyes him for another several moments, but it seems like he’s done with the conversation. About Girl Scouts.

Obito raises his gaze towards the ceiling and wonders what the fuck went wrong to land him in these sorts of situations.

“Uchiha.”

“Wh— huh?”

When Obito opens his eyes, he’s immediately met with the unimpressed gaze of Tobirama Senju, and comes to the embarrassing realization that he must’ve fallen asleep at some point.

“I’ve finished your seal,” Tobirama tells him.

Obito pauses, brain still buffering. “Already?”

“It’s nearly been a full day,” the man points out. Now that he mentions it, when Obito squints, he can see bags under his eyes.

“You didn’t have to do it all right away,” he mutters.

“I’d rather not have dealt with Madara’s reaction to a future Uchiha appearing in the middle of Konoha out of nowhere,” Tobirama replies dryly. “Much less my brother’s.”

Obito winces. “Fair enough,” he says, then glances downwards to see the large sheet of painted parchment that stretches across the ground. He tilts his head, eyeing swooping, curved lines and tiny script with a mixture of bewilderment and awe. “Is this the seal?”

Tobirama grunts in response. “You just need to sit in the center.”

“And you’re sure this’ll work.”

“It should,” Tobirama replies. Obito decides not to tell him that, combined with the fact that he hadn’t even spent a whole day on the seal, isn’t very reassuring.

With an exhale, he pushes himself upwards and ambles to the middle of the seal, careful not to step onto any of the ink. Now that he can see the whole thing, he feels like he can recognize some of it. Some Hirashin script, plus a recreation of his Mangekyou pattern are both present in the design.

“How did you know about the Sharingan pattern?” Obito asks, incredulous.

“I saw it when you first used your ‘kamui,’” Tobirama says blandly, like that isn’t a disturbingly impressive thing to do. “Now, start channeling your chakra.”

After a moment of hesitation, Obito follows his instruction. Immediately, the seals begin glowing from beneath him. When he blinks in surprise, the light flickers.

“Keep channeling,” Tobirama tells him firmly. Obito quickly tightens his hold on his chakra, and the glow solidifies.

Tobirama circles around the seal twice before humming. “It should be fine,” he eventually says. “Use your kamui again, and you’ll return from when you came.”

Obito’s Sharingan flickers to life, but he pauses before allowing it to spin into the Mangekyou. He raises his gaze, and upon meeting eyes as red as his own, he offers a smile. “Thanks.”

The moment the word slides off his tongue, he feels the pull of kamui. Between one blink and the next, he disappears.

(It is not until much, much later, that he realizes that Tobirama said when, and not where.

Which means that Tobirama Senju is a punny bastard. And no one will ever believe him.)

“Hey, Mister!”

Obito stumbles before reorienting himself. When he looks to the side, a little girl stares up at him with wide eyes and a bright smile.

“Do you wanna buy some Girl Scout cookies?”

Obito blinks, wondering if he’s heard her right. “Sorry, what?”

“Do you wanna buy some Girl Scout cookies?” she repeats cheerfully. “Our organization was supported by our very own Second Hokage, you know. And his Uchiha friend, too!”

“His Uchiha friend,” Obito repeats, mind whirling.

“Obito Uchiha,” she chirps, then beams at him. “So, do you wanna buy some?”

Obito swallows back a hysterical laugh. “Yeah. Okay. Sure, why not? Just give me whatever.”

“Thank you very much, sir!” she says when he hands her a handful of ryo. “Here’s your box!”

Obito watches her walk away before lowering his gaze to the box in his hand. Printed on the front, below a group of kids, are two cookies - snickerdoodles, for crying out loud - with chocolate swirls. And below that—

He reads the name of the cookies once, and then twice to make sure. But it stays the same, no matter how many times he looks.

Kamui Swirls, it reads.

Obito’s not sure whether to laugh or cry.

Chapter Text

Obito carries around a small bag of leaves now, because he’s vigilant like that. More than one person has given him the side eye when he’s ventured out into the streets to snoop around, presumably because it looks like he’s carrying around knockoff weed, but he’s committed to the bit and no amount of outside judgment will get him to back down.

Kakashi carries literal erotica around, for Doug’s sake. He thinks he can walk around with a hidden bag of leaves.

But needless to say, if he ever sees Gaara and his siblings again, he will be prepared.

When they’re alone, that is. Currently, he’s a few branches above them, hanging out in the same tree as Gaara. The reasoning for which, by the way, he cannot discern. The redhead had been walking down the street normally, only to suddenly decide to become one with nature. 

Maybe he wanted some alone time; maybe he’s trying to discreetly scope out anyone nearby; maybe he’s a dramatic bitch and, upon sensing Team 7 coming their way, decided that he was going to terrify the living daylights out of them. The world may never know. 

Whatever it is, it was unexpected. Not him being in the tree, because he does remember Gaara popping up out of nowhere to greet Team 7, but him deciding to hop into the same tree that Obito had been loitering around before he’d been forced to quickly hide himself. He’s really beginning to wonder if he’s a trouble magnet, or if recognizable characters are inexplicably drawn to him due to some bullshit universal laws.

Obito remains silent as he watches the interaction between the teams, twitching slightly when Gaara releases a burst of killing intent. It’s loose and uncontrolled, though filled with a restless sort of malice. Quite honestly, he doesn’t know why it doesn’t affect him as much as it should, but if he had to guess, he’d say that it’s a combination of him (probably) having died before and the lingering influence of OGbito’s vague memories.

Anyway, he doesn’t need to change anything here; nothing particularly awful happens to either party, and it makes sure that Team 7 has at least an inkling of what Gaara is capable of.

(Not that it’d deter them for long. They are the Main Characters™, after all.)

He could, however, do without the weird-ass declaration from Gaara to Sasuke. He’s trying to prevent him from losing his marbles, damn it, and Gaara’s supposed to be on his team, even if he doesn’t know that. It’s a betrayal of the highest order, he thinks.

Obito watches the group split off with a slight grimace, only allowing himself to move when everyone is out of sight. With that interaction done, the chunin exams arc has truly begun.

Wonderful.

Obito really fucking hates Kabuto.

The guy has a sad backstory, is unsure of his identity, yatta yatta, he gets it, he does, but—

Well, the guy doesn’t really try to make himself very likable, does he? Or maybe the problem is that he tries too hard. At least other villains have sympathetic traits or clearly have reasons for their actions, no matter how backwards they are, but Kabuto’s whole schtick always felt so flimsy.

He’s just a slimy character. Probably the slimiest, which is impressive considering all of his former and existing masters.

Whatever, point is, Obito doesn’t like the guy. Maybe that’ll change, or he’ll at least try to give the guy a chance later on. He thinks it worked out in Boruto, in the end, but that’s a distant hope considering the fact that he’s already irreversibly fucked up the timeline just by kamui-ing off the grid.

So he may or may not feel the tiniest bit of smug satisfaction when he sees Kabuto get launched backwards by a member of the Sound team, even if he knows full well that the guy could’ve dodged it, and will undoubtedly heal himself as soon as he knows that nobody’s looking.

Unfortunately, he can’t really stick around after that. It’s easy to hide in a large room full of disorganized genin, though that difficulty would ramp way up if he tried to get into the exam room. Not only would he obviously not have a team, but he wouldn’t even have a seat since he hadn’t actually been entered in as an examinee.

He could’ve probably disguised himself as a proctor had he thought about it sooner, but it’s a little too late for that, so he settles for brief peeks through kamui. He’ll definitely sing its praises, but it’s not very good for long-term spying since it makes the air ripple, which is pretty obvious if you’re looking for it. In other situations it’s usually fine, because he tends to have something else to use as cover or he’s just somewhere where something like that would be hard to notice, but in a room filled with people who’s literal jobs are to spectate, trying to keep up kamui is a pretty terrible idea.

Not that he actually needs to look in on the writing portion of the exam. Nothing interesting happens as far as he remembers, aside from Naruto giving his speech about he’s never gonna give up, let anyone down, or run around and desert them, ‘ttebayo.

The extra time also gives him an excuse to continue looking around the Forest of Death. He’s already been through most of the area, but it wouldn’t hurt to find some alternate paths to the tower, or to scope out some nooks and crannies he hadn’t had the chance to look into before.

It’s harder without knowing which entrance Team 7 will be assigned to, but at least this way he won’t go in completely blind. It’s also like, his only plan aside from just teleporting them all the fuck out of the area. A tempting solution, but something that would undoubtedly cause several problems, which leaves it as more of a last resort kind of scenario.

In other words, he’s throwing his half-trained self into a situation where he could very likely die if even one thing goes wrong, all for a group of dumbass kids who don’t even know he exists.

Ugh, the things he does for others. Kakashi will so owe him after this.

Chapter Text

It’s a beautiful day outside. Birds are singing, flowers are blooming. On days like these…

He really wants to chuck Orochimaru into the depths of hell and be done with it. 

Unfortunately, he’s stuck shadowing a group of preteens in a forest filled with man-eating tigers and spiders that put Australia’s arachnids to shame, anxiously waiting for said snake man to ambush them all.

Suffice to say, he is having a Bad Time™ and is getting horribly irritated with the way he unconsciously twitches at even the smallest rustle of leaves. He’s alert, sure, but at the expense of his poor, fried nerves and rapidly declining mental state.

And then, because the universe can’t decide whether it hates or loves him, the group has the nerve to split apart.

Obito barely has a moment to think about how absolutely bullshit it is that this situation hadn’t been explored in the anime before he’s forced to chase after Sasuke like a deranged fangirl. Although he’s undoubtedly the most capable, he’s the one who’s being targeted, and if he somehow gets the curse mark due to some sort of butterfly effect-related fuckery, Obito’s going to lose it.

In the end, though, he doesn’t run into Orochimaru. No, instead, he comes across a giant fucking bear, because why the fuck not?

Actually, he doesn’t even know why he’s surprised. At this point, nothing short of the Elemental Nations deciding to work out their differences with Dance Dance Revolution instead of war should phase him.

Though that would probably put Kumo at such an advantage, even if Killer Bee was the only one who bothered to participate. Or… maybe someone like Gai could balance him out?

…

But he digresses.

Sasuke takes out the bear without Obito’s intervention, then proceeds to channel his unparalleled interpersonal skills to blankly stare at the redhead he’d saved for all of three seconds before offering a near-unintelligible goodbye and spiriting away.

For reasons which shall forever be unknown to him, the redhead seems to find his aloofness - *cough* emotional constipation *cough* - attractive. Obito truly does not understand the thoughts and reasoning skills of teenage girls. Or maybe he just doesn’t understand anyone’s thought process, period.

Unfortunately for his sanity (and weak self-preservation instincts) this isn’t just any girl. All redheads are plot-relevant after all.

(Except for Gaara’s dad, but fuck him. He barely even counts anyway.)

Not for the first time, Obito curses the fact that he has a conscience - and a needy one, at that - and drops into the miniature clearing to make himself known.

Karin tenses even before he’s completely visible. Obito abruptly remembers that she’s a talented sensor, and the only reason she hadn’t noticed him before was probably because she was busy being attacked by a raging bear.

“Who are you?” she asks, eyes flicking between him and the way Sasuke had just taken off.

He usually doesn’t get this type of response as Obito, which is interesting considering he has horrible facial scars. Maybe it’s the environment? Or maybe people just really don’t like shady characters who barely have an inch of skin showing.

…No, it’s definitely got to be the type of clothes, if that’s true. In both this world and the last, if the common simpage over Kakashi is anything to go by.

A crunch echoes throughout the air. Obito glances up to see Karin staring down at a leaf, looking torn between embarrassment and terror.

He closes his eyes for a long, pained second. He really, really needs to stop going off on mental tangents in the middle of conversations. Or in battle. Or literally anywhere.

“My name is—”

Oh. Ah, fuck, I knew I forgot something.

“—Tobi.”

This is it for me. This is how I get found out. Because I can’t think of cover names to give to preteen girls who wouldn’t even be able to know if I was lying.

“Tobi?” Karin echoes, then swallows. “What do you want? My scroll?”

Her—

Oh, right. Chunin exams. Hah.

“No. I just want to get you out of here.”

Immediately, her eyes take on a wet sheen, and she takes a loose defensive stance. Obito promptly realizes how his words might have been misinterpreted.

“No— no. I mean I want to help you get away from your teammates. Your village.” He presses his lips together beneath his mask and eyes her bite-riddled arms. She must notice, because she pulls back and hunches in on herself. “If you want, I can take you somewhere safer. Somewhere where you won’t have to do that anymore.”

Obito tries not to wince at his explanation. To him, it just sounds like, No, no. I don’t want to kidnap you in a bad way. I want to kidnap you in a good way!

Which is probably what Orochimaru had done, except he would’ve spoken far more eloquently. 

He grimaces, trying not to focus on that thought. It’s mostly fine, because Karin seems to consider his words, if the sudden hope shining in her eyes is any indication. Mostly, because like every other goddamn person in this universe, she really needs to learn the concept of ‘stranger danger,’ but he’s not really going to go over that right now when he needs her to trust him.

“You… You can do that?” she asks, then seems to hesitate. “No… They’ll find me. They always—” She cuts herself off, looking slightly haunted. Obito thinks that if he knew what she was going to say, he’d be waging war on her shitty little village.

“I know… a woman,” Obito explains slowly, already mentally apologizing and praying for his own health and safety. “Who can take care of you and make sure that you’re never found by your old village.” Then, because she’s still frowning, he adds, “And even if you are, she can beat their asses and send them running home with their tails between their legs.”

Karin bites her lip. “...Who?”

“Tsunade of the Sannin,” he answers immediately, and snorts when he sees her eyes widen. “You know of her?”

“Know of— everyone knows about her. I hear about her in my village all the time. She’s super strong, enough to take out mountains in a punch. And she’s better at healing than anyone else. Even—” she pauses, excitement draining away. “Even me.” Under her breath is a wobbly, “Or, that’s what everyone would complain about anyway.”

When tears drip down her cheeks, Obito resists the urge to chase after her dickwad teammates and beat their village’s leaders over the head with their flailing bodies. 

“She might be able to teach you,” he instead blurts out, because he’s awful at handling crying people. He regrets the words as soon as they come out of his mouth, because Tsunade should still be terrified to properly heal people at this point in the timeline and probably won't care to take on another student before Sakura comes around, but Karin looks at him like he just told her Christmas came early and he can’t bring himself to take them back. “You know. If you want.” Hesitantly, he says, “You don’t need to heal anyone anymore, if you don’t want to.”

Karin stares at him like she doesn’t know what to think. Like she’s never been offered a choice before.

(He knows that she hasn’t. He hopes that can change.)

Her expression reflects her hesitation, but eventually, it settles into something more determined. She parts her lips to speak, and—

A copse of trees in the distance crashes to the ground, and cacophony of squawks echoes throughout the air as birds flutter off from their former perches, clearly terrified.

Obito barely has time to think before he’s in front of Karin, a stream of constant curses rattling around in his head. “I have to go,” he tells her quickly. “I will be back. But right now, I have to go help someone else.” His eyes flick back towards the still-raging winds. “I meant what I said. I will find you soon, and whatever you choose, I’ll accept. Got that?”

Karin stares at him, wide-eyed, but she must sense his urgency, because she gives a jerky nod.

“Okay,” he says, more gently than before. “Thank you.”

And with that, he’s off to deal with an invasive snake.

Chapter Text

There is no warning before his displacement.

One moment, he’s pacing back and forth in kamui with his emotional-support Doug in his hand, mourning about the loss of modern technology, namely delicacies such as pizza rolls. Now, he may be thinking with his stomach, but at that moment, he would be willing to go head-to-head with Nagato and his cheat-code eyeballs just to taste processed bliss once again.

Tragic losses aside, the point is that one moment his activities are rather tame for the world he’s currently inhabiting. And the next, he and Doug are swallowed up by a shimmering portal that appears out of nowhere before being spit out onto the dirt below.

Fun fact: there is no dirt in kamui. Just depressingly drab cubes, and the shoddily-made carpet he’d been conned into buying by a scheming old lady with a sob story.

He takes in a breath and chokes on a cloud of dust, feeling a major sense of deja vu.

Around him, he can hear some sort of scuffle going on. Maybe some panicking, too. He squints and raises his gaze, only for his jaw to slacken when he sees a man one-shotting people who look like Orochimaru’s experiments with well-placed jabs.

This man looks suspiciously like Eraserhead, from My Hero Academia.

No, you must be thinking. That can’t be right. This isn’t a crossover.

Well, Obito feels much the same. But alas, this is an AU Chapter, and doesn’t adhere to the loosely-thrown-together rules of this universe.

Because he would rather not get kicked in the face, he remains still and watches. He channels his inner chameleon as he presses himself to the ground. He’s going by dinosaur principles; if he doesn’t move, nobody will notice that he’s there.

It actually works for a weirdly long amount of time, until the crowd starts thinning out and a villain reacts to his presence before being knocked out with an impressive kick.

Aizawa stares at him. Obito stares back.

“I’m not with these guys,” he says. He doesn’t think the man believes him.

But as long as he’s not directly attacking, Aizawa is content to just keep his eye on him. His quirk has no effect on Obito and even his untrained ass could probably take him down with magic ninja bullshit powers, but he doesn’t poke the bear with a stick, just in case.

Unfortunately, he can’t remain idle for too long, because eventually Nomu is called to action. It is—

Disgusting.

Its brains are peeking out of its dark, mottled skull, and its eyes are blanker than a dead man’s. Which. Makes sense, considering.

Obito grimaces at the thought of evil-er Big Bird - worse than ostriches, even - chomping down on his skull with its beak, though he doesn’t move from where he stands. He knows what is meant to happen next, and while he’s been here for all of five minutes, if anything happens to Aizawa, he’ll (attempt to) kill everyone here and then himself.

When Shigaraki calls out a command - and jeez, does that guy need to down some cough drops or something, because his voice is scratchy as hell - Obito is already in front of Aizawa. Only when the Nomu approaches does he realize that he doesn’t know what the hell he’s doing.

It seems Aizawa has also realized that he doesn’t have a plan. But Obito will not back down for things like logic or reasoning. No, he digs his chakra-enhanced heels into the dirt and refuses to budge.

Nomu is unable to move him, even a centimeter. Shigaraki’s gobsmacked silence speaks volumes. Obito wonders if it’d be fucked up for him to laugh.

Probably.

“You… Who the hell are you, huh?! There was no info about another hero being here! What kinda cheat codes are you using?!”

“The power of Doug,” Obito tells him seriously, then glances up at Nomu. “Behold,” he says, and thrusts his fist forward, Doug still in hand.

Nomu goes flying into the water. It takes everything Obito has not to cackle at the unintended cannonball.

“No…,” Shigaraki lets out, then grabs his head. “No, no, no! That’s not how this works! You can’t do that!”

“Git gud, m8.”

Shigaraki snarls at him, leaping out with reckless abandon, and Obito somehow manages to grab his wrist.

“Oh,” Obito lets out. “Um.”

The man twitches and raises his other hand, managing to disintegrate a part of his sleeve because he has to jerk Doug away.

“Never,” he says in the most offended tone he can manage, “Go after a man’s dog.”

Shigaraki stares at him. Obito cannot tell what he’s thinking, since he has a literal hand on his face.

After a moment of consideration, he throws him too. Not quite as hard, because he doesn’t want to know the consequences of accidentally murdering the guy, but enough to hurt, and quite possibly break some bones.

“Kurogiri,” Shigaraki hisses out.

The misty man eyes Obito for all of a second before a purple portal begins swirling beneath Shigaraki.

“What— no, no, take him ou —”

And just like that, they’re both gone, leaving behind a wide array of groaning villains that are probably very unhappy about being abandoned.

Slowly, he turns towards Aizawa, who is eyeing him with a mixture of exasperation and bewilderment. Also like he needs a tremendous amount of sleep.

“I don’t suppose you can just let me go?” he asks hopefully.

Aizawa stares at him, expression somehow becoming even more unimpressed. Obito’s shoulders slump.

“I already told you— oh, what the fuck, is that a cat?”

There’s a brief, awkward pause before the cat cop leaves the room. Obito turns his gaze towards Tsukauchi, hoping his gaze is appropriately apologetic.

“That was rude, wasn’t it? Can you tell him that I’m sorry later?”

The man stares at him for several seconds before letting out an exhale. “Sure,” he tells him. Obito beams, and the man heads over to the chair on the other side of the table. “My name is Tsukauchi Naomasa,” he greets. “My quirk is called ‘Lie Detector.’ It’s as it sounds; if you tell me a lie, I’ll be able to tell. Knowing this, will you submit to questioning?”

Obito tilts his head, then shrugs. “Alright.” It’s not like he really has anything to hide in this universe anyway. “But only if I can have Doug.”

“Doug,” Tsukauchi echoes, then frowns. “The stuffed dog?”

“He’s more than that,” Obito tells him. “Emotional support, mostly.”

Tsukauchi opens, then closes his mouth. “Is ‘Doug’ a weapon, or can he cause any harm?”

“Only to that Nomu I sucker punched. And that was all me, between you and us.”

“...Good enough,” the detective eventually says, making some sort of hand motion through the air. Considering the fact that the cat cop walks back in with Doug in hand a minute later, he suspects that there are people listening (and watching) in.

“I’m sorry,” he tells the cat cop as he takes Doug from his—

Hands? Paws? Haws?

Either way, the cat cop just snorts and walks away. Obito chooses to believe that means he’s forgiven.

“So. What’s up?” he asks Tsukauchi as the door closes behind the cat cop.

The man pays his casual phrasing no mind. “As I said before, we need to ask you a few questions, mostly pertaining to the incident at the USJ. But before that, I need to know a few things about you.” He clicks his pen and glances up at Obito. “First, what’s your name?”

“Obito Uchiha,” he answers easily.

The detective pauses. “You’re sure?”

Obito squints, then hides a grimace. “That’s what I go by,” he amends. “And have been for a while now.”

Tsukauchi seems hesitant to move on, but nods nonetheless, probably figuring he can try to figure it out later. Jokes on him.

“Where are you from?”

Um.

“...A village. You wouldn’t know it. It’s surrounded by a really big forest.”

“What’s its name?”

“Konohagakure.”

Tsukauchi hums. “And you live there?”

“...Not for a while, no.” Before Tsukauchi asks him to expand, he says, “I’ve been traveling lately. Haven’t really found a place to settle.”

Since everyone back home thinks I'm dead and I have a bunch of murderers after me. You know how it is.

The man in front of him is very clearly suspicious, but that’s just too bad for him because technically nothing Obito has said has been a lie.

“Alright. That’s enough of that, for now,” Tsukauchi says after glancing somewhere behind Obito. “Why were you at the USJ?”

That, Obito can answer truthfully. “I have no idea.”

Tsukauchi pauses. “What?”

“I don’t know,” he says, absently petting Doug. “I was just doing my own thing before I got eaten up by a portal. Next thing I know, I’m in the dirt and watching some ninja guy kick ass.”

Tsukauchi looks amused by that last bit, funnily enough. “So you are unassociated with the ‘League of Villains’?”

“I am not associated with them, no.”

“And you have no ill intentions in relation to U.A.’s students or any of its teachers?”

“Nope,” Obito confirms pleasantly. “Just a ‘wrong place, wrong time’ type of deal. But hey, speaking of: do you think you could figure out how to get me home?”

Tsukauchi glances at him. “We can, as soon as you’re cleared. But you’d have to point out where you live.”

“I cannot do that,” Obito informs him, then snorts when Tsukauchi frowns. “Literally. I mean, I’m fairly certain that I’m from a different dimension.”

Tsukauchi stares at him. Obito offers him a winning smile.

“...Right,” the man says, then exhales. “Great.”

Obito nods sympathetically. “If it makes you feel better, this isn’t the first time something like this has happened to me.”

Tsukauchi pinches the bridge of his nose. “It does not.”

“...Fair enough.”

A good fifteen minutes after he’s been left alone, Tsukauchi walks in, looking tired.

“Heyo, detective!” Obito greets cheerfully.

Tsukauchi, clearly used to dealing with bullshit, greets him with a brief smile. “Hello. Sorry for the wait, but it’ll take a little longer still. Can I get you anything, or are you fine for now?”

Obito almost denies the offer, only to pause when he remembers that he’s technically in the future. He slowly raises his gaze to meet Tsukauchi’s gaze, eyes shining with hope. “Yeah,” he breathes, excitement unhindered by Tsukauchi’s suddenly wary expression. “Do you have pizza rolls?”

Chapter Text

“Are you implying something?” Orochimaru asks, a dangerous lilt to his voice. 

“Oh, of course not,” Obito responds breezily. “I’m being downright explicit, Orochimaru.”

He sees the moment his words click in Orochimaru’s head. Just as Sakura echoes his name with terror in her voice, Obito is sent hurtling to the ground.

He—

No, no, cut. We’re getting ahead of ourselves here.

As I’m sure you’ve gathered: Yep, that’s me - the one who was bitchslapped to the dirt. You’re probably wondering how I ended up in this situation.

Let’s rewind.

By the time he arrives, Naruto is nowhere to be seen.

Obito grimaces before sending out a mental apology to Minato and Kushina; right about now, he’s fairly certain that the blond’s been swallowed by a giant snake. He doesn’t remember the logistics of it all, but he knows that Naruto’s able to call upon the protagonist-favoring gods in order to escape, or something.

Just in case, he directs a brief prayer - if “please don’t let the blond dumbass die” can be counted as one - skyward and arrives just in time to see a disguised Orochimaru deepthroat his scroll. Which.

Alright. Unnecessarily dramatic and pretty frickin’ weird, but that’s not really anything new for Snakey McGee.

“Now we shall see just who we’ll be stealing the scroll from,” he says, long-ass tongue sliding across his lips. “We’ll fight to the death!”

How do you feel so superior when challenging literal middle schoolers to death battles? he wonders.

Since Orochimaru can’t hear his thoughts, he proceeds to drop a shit ton of killing intent onto said children. Unlike Gaara’s, it’s almost disturbingly clinical in nature, and tightly controlled. The fact that he can still feel it enough to spark discomfort is really making him regret the decision to come and help these idiots out.

He won’t abandon them or anything, but he’s definitely going to collect on some I.O.U.s when his inevitable ‘surprise, your sensei’s dead teammate isn’t actually so dead’ reveal finally happens.

Obito catches sight of Sasuke’s hand in motion, and he promptly remembers why he’d been injured when they’d been dealing with Orochimaru. 

That’s not good, he thinks, and within the next moment, Sasuke’s wrist is locked in his grip.

He meets Sasuke’s wide-eyed gaze and feels as if the world pauses, if only for a moment. Perhaps, he thinks, I might’ve fucked up a little.

Unfortunately, his apparent interdimensional skills don’t include time travel - as far as he can tell, anyway - and he’s forced to double down on his decision.

“Stabbing yourself isn’t good for your health,” Obito tells him, and only afterwards does he realize that he sounds like off-brand Doctor Seuss with his unintentional rhyme. Sasuke genuinely gapes at him. It’d be funny if he wasn’t worried about being killed off like an irrelevant background character by the man behind him.

“Who…,” Sakura lets out, trembling. Obito can’t really tell if it’s because of him or the aftershocks of the killing intent.

“An underpaid teacher’s aide,” he responds blandly. He hadn’t been able to figure out what seal alters ANBU’s voices, nor had he been able to find an alternative. In other words, it takes everything he has to keep the hysteria out of his voice. Right now, he’s just channeling his inner Uchiha - with heavy influence from Itachi - and hoping for the best.

“Well,” Orochimaru inputs pleasantly, like he hadn’t just been shitting out the literal intent to commit heinous crimes a moment earlier, “Isn’t this interesting?”

Sure is, buddy boy. We’re in K-Drama territory now.

“Isn’t it wrong for a member of ANBU to interfere with the exams?” he asks. Then, after a pause, his lips curl into an amused smirk. “If you are one, that is.”

Obito pointedly doesn’t flinch, but he does wish that a meteor would drop straight on Orochimaru’s head so he wouldn’t have to deal with this bullshit.

Unfortunately, the gods love to hate him, and the sky remains tauntingly clear.

“You talk a lot of big game,” Obito responds, “For someone who’s acting remarkably like a playground bully.”

Just as Obito is regretting his life decisions, Orochimaru actually laughs, which… Is honestly more terrifying than if he’d just gone straight for the kill.

“Ah… Well, as much as I’d enjoy a little back-and-forth, I can’t say I have a lot of time,” Orochimaru claims. “You do understand, don’t you?”

“I understand that you’re a pain in the ass,” he mutters. When Orochimaru raises a brow, he smiles with all his teeth, even though his face can’t be seen. “A snake in the grass,” he says pleasantly, as if he’s repeating what he’d said before.

While Orochimaru’s eyes narrow, Obito pauses, eyes narrowing at his forehead protector. From Kusa.

A snake in the grass? Is that a goddamn pun?

“Are you implying something?” Orochimaru asks, a dangerous lilt to his voice. 

“Oh, of course not,” Obito responds breezily. “I’m being downright explicit, Orochimaru.”

He sees the moment his words click in Orochimaru’s head. Just as Sakura echoes his name with terror in her voice, Obito is sent hurtling to the ground.

He hadn’t even seen him move. How cliche.

Just before he lands, he twists and manages to land in a stumbling crouch.

“How impressive,” Orochimaru notes.

Obito exhales. “I try,” he bites out, then glances towards Sasuke and Sakura, trying to express urgency with his eyes. Fly, you fools.

Just when he starts to think that his message had been lost in translation, Sakura’s eyes widen, and she looks behind her.

Thank Doug that Kakashi’s team isn’t entirely made up of numbskulls, he thinks, and barely manages to jerk out of the way before the earth breaks open before him.

Oh, he thinks, feeling a little lightheaded as he watches a tree split in two, Fuck.

“You’re amusing,” Orochimaru tells him, “But not enough for me to keep you alive.” Then, with a smile that is edged with barbed wire, he repeats his words from before. “You do understand, don’t you?”

Obito presses his lips together, then tenses when his shadow is swallowed by another, larger one. When he looks up, there’s a giant fucking snake hovering over him.

Fuck me, he thinks, and dives out of the way before it can swallow him in one bite.

After chuckling, Orochimaru immediately turns his attention back towards Sasuke and Sakura, because he’s a dickwad who likes playing with his food. He says something to them about not being able to escape, and Obito grimaces before ducking under the snake’s tail.

Okay. This is just a snake. It shouldn’t be that hard to take it down. Even Naruto managed it, he reassures himself.

Then, in a far dryer voice he hears, He’s the protagonist.

Obito’s expression sours, but he takes the words into consideration. Even if they’re true, it really is just a really big snake, and if he can just get a good jump in, he can take it out with relative ease.

His hand trails downwards and falls upon a short blade. Once the snake lunges for him once again, he throws his hand outwards and nearly manages to slice its head clean off.

It hangs off by a thread and leaves blood spraying out in his direction, which is absolutely fucking disgusting, but the fact that it doesn’t get back up is very reassuring.

If Orochimaru had immortal snakes, he’d just have given up and thrown him into kamui. It’s a last resort, not only because Kakashi’s Mangekyou matches his own and would be suspicious as all hell if he managed to figure anything out about it, but because he really doesn’t want to clean up blood and viscera, nor does he want to be unable to return because Voldemort’s Japanese cousin is running around in there.

At the same time Obito raises his gaze towards the fight above, a barrage of weapons is thrown at the second snake.

“Sorry, Sasuke,” Naruto says with a grin. “I can’t remember that stupid password."

“End scene,” Obito mutters, huffing out a laugh. “That’s a chapter-closing line if I’ve ever heard one.” He pauses, eyes narrowed. “Wait—”

Chapter Text

“Sweet, Naruto, that was awesome!” Sakura exclaims.

Obito blinks once, then twice.

Does… Does she actually say that? Canonically?

“Naruto to the rescue, huh? You're completely psyched to be saving the day, but now would be a good time to run for your life!” Sasuke shouts. “This guy is way out of our league!”

Obito remembers this part. He really does. But with Sakura and Sasuke’s seemingly out-of-character reactions hitting him with a double whammy, he still feels like he’s in the twilight zone.

“Heh, heh…,” Orochimaru… hehs. “My compliments on your stunning defeat of that giant snake, Naruto…”

Obito sours. What am I? Chopped liver?

Naruto narrows his eyes before throwing his arm out towards Orochimaru. “Hey! Why don’t you pick on someone your own size…?” he barks out, then seems to realize that the one-liner barely makes sense in this context. “Or something like that…”

Sasuke exhales. “If it’s our scroll you want, come and get it!” he calls out, crimson draining from his eyes. “Just take it and go!”

Obito finds himself pleasantly… well, not surprised, since he does remember this, but Sasuke being sensible is pretty nice. Too bad Naruto’s going to ruin it.

“Sasuke! What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” said blond demands, much to his chagrin. “Is this some clever way of beating the enemy...? By handing over everything we've got?!”

Don’t listen to him, Sasuke. That’s the devil talking.

Orochimaru lets out a raspy sort of laugh that makes Obito cringe. “Well done... You're obviously natural-born prey... Instinctively knowing that your only hope... lies in the chance of the predator being distracted by some tastier bait!”

You’d do wonders in theater, Obito tries to tell the man telepathically. I’d tone down on the pauses, though. Your audience might get bored.

“Come and get it!” Sasuke shouts, launching the scroll towards Orochimaru.

And then Naruto catches it midair. Like a dumbass.

“Stay out of this!” Sasuke snarls. “You’ll ruin everything.”

Yeah, Naruto. You’ll ruin everything, Obito thinks sourly. Not that you care, because you clearly love creating problems for me to deal with.

…Perhaps Obito is a bit spiteful. But he thinks he deserves to be, at least right now.

Naruto directs his gaze towards Sasuke. “What do you think you’re doing?!”

“Naruto, what are you…?”

“I forgot the stupid password, so I can’t prove it,” Naruto says, cutting off Sakura. “But this so-called Sasuke is obviously a fake!”

“Dear Doug,” Obito mutters aloud, then exhales while Naruto’s still shouting something about idiots and cowards at Sasuke. Just as Orochimaru opens his mouth to reply, he launches himself into the trees and lands on a wide branch. “I’d say I hate to cut this short,” he drawls, “But then I’d be lying.”

“Y-you!” Sakura lets out.

Orochimaru hums. “I’d figured you’d given up, considering how long you’ve been waiting around. But I suppose I must voice my apologies for ever doubting you. You clearly must be from Konoha, since you’re following its traditions of using brawn before brains.”

You’re from Konoha, dickwad, he almost snarks back, but holds his tongue.

“Oh? Nothing to say?” Orochimaru asks, like an asshole.

Your mom has nothing to say.

Hah. No, that’d probably get him slaughtered without hesitation. It’d be funny though.

“Who the hell is this guy?!” Naruto demands, clearly agitated after Obito had the gall to interrupt his heroic speech.

Don’t you remember me, son? Obito does not say, because then the disguise would be all for naught. He’s had such good self-control lately. Go, him!

“I… I don’t know,” Sakura murmurs. “He just showed up… But he looks like—”

“A member of ANBU,” Sasuke finishes, eyes narrowed.

“Awfully uncouth for one,” Orochimaru comments pleasantly, like they’re all sitting down for tea. “But you were right about one thing. This conversation has gone on for long enough.” He licks his lips, and it takes everything Obito has not to choke out a laugh. Not because of the action itself, but rather because Orochimaru briefly goes cross-eyed when he does it.

“I had planned to kill you three and take the scroll,” he claims, “But it wouldn’t be too much trouble to add one more body to the count.”

“You… you can’t do that!” Sakura tells him. “He’s an ANBU!”

Orochimaru looks amused by her outburst. “And?”

Sakura shrinks back, unsure. “You’d get in trouble… It would… it would be bad politically for your village.”

“Ah… You’re right,” Orochimaru lets out. Then, crushing Sakura’s hopes and dreams, he smirks. “Not that it’ll matter, since no one will ever find out.”

Before anyone else can say another word, the wind begins swirling around him, lashing outwards. “Art of the familiar spirit!” he shouts aloud… for some reason.

“Don’t do it, Naruto!” Sasuke calls out, and Obito barely has time to process what the fuck is going on before he’s leaping after the blond to keep him from divebombing into a literal deathtrap.

“Put me down!” he demands, squirming.

“No,” Obito says dryly. Then, just because, he adds, “Dumbass.”

Sakura makes a strangled noise that sounds like, “Move!” and Obito’s gaze shifts from Naruto’s mutinous expression to the third snake of the day. He barely manages to keep them both from being viciously slammed into a rock wall, and once he lands, he shoots a glare at Orochimaru.

“Nice try,” he tells his snake, “But let’s not take any more chances, hm? Eat them up! ♡”

…How the fuck did he say that aloud? Obito wonders, only for his grip to loosen when fire begins licking at his gloves.

Naruto snarls and leaps into the air before kicking the snake. “Eat snot, sucker!”

Palm, meet mask. Demon fox. Right.

“I hate it here,” Obito mutters, squinting at the spectacle before him. From beside him, Sakura shoots him a bewildered look. “Watch out,” he tells her and Sasuke. Both jerk backwards, but it turns out to be useless since Naruto manages to Superman the snake like it’s a speeding train, somehow.

“Hey…,” Naruto pants, showing off a bloodied grin. “You alright, you big chicken?”

Why me? Obito wonders. He does not direct his gaze skyward, because clearly the gods will not take pity on him anytime soon.

Instead, he grabs Naruto before Orochimaru can snatch him up, and throws him back towards his teammates.

“You are truly becoming more troublesome than you’re worth,” Orochimaru says with narrowed eyes, then lashes out at him with his fucking tongue.

No, no, nope, Obito decides, and cuts the thing off with a kunai.

They both stare at it momentarily, just flopping around the ground. Then Obito finds himself on the receiving end of the most pissed expression he’s ever seen, and he barely has time to react before Orochimaru is trying to beat him into a pile of writhing flesh.

Fortunately, the same trick does not work on him twice, and he manages to avoid being slammed into the ground. Unfortunately, that means the fight continues, and he’s barely able to keep up.

He's not skilled enough for this. He’d known that before he'd leapt in.

Which means—

“RUN!” he barks out, forcing out a heavy breath.

“Hah?!” Naruto lets out. “You can’t just—”

“Go,” he snarls, spinning around to face him. The blond’s jaw snaps shut, and both of his teammates instantly grow pale. “You cannot deal with someone like this. He is out of your league.”

He doesn’t know why Orochimaru is letting him do this. He doesn’t particularly care at the moment. He just needs to make sure they get the fuck away, ASAP.

Naruto swallows. “We can’t just…”

“Take your stupid fucking scroll if you must,” Obito bites out, “And leave.”

“Naruto,” Sakura murmurs, trembling. “He’s right… We can’t beat a Sannin.”

The blond looks between Sakura and an eerily quiet Sasuke before slowly nodding. He looks pained about it, but his fox-like features fade.

“Fine,” he says bitterly. “Fine.”

Obito almost slumps in relief. But he sees Sakura’s eyes widen, and he barely even has time to tense in preparation before he’s spinning around to meet Orochimaru’s kick with his arm. He feels like his bones will snap under the pressure.

“Trying to get rid of my prey, are you?” the man croons. Obito bites the inside of his cheek hard enough to draw blood, then raises his mask just enough to spit in Orochimaru’s face.

The man jerks backwards, and Obito pants, eyes flicking backwards. The kids are running, thank Doug. But now he’s left with Orochimaru, and he doesn’t need to be a genius to see that he’s fucking pissed.

“Ah,” the man intones, wiping off his face before throwing the blood off with a quick flick of his hand. “How unpleasant.”

Obito lets out a laugh that’s near-hysterical, and although his arm still aches, he bares his teeth in a mockery of a grin. “I could say the same about you,” he says, feeling like he might pass out. “Bitch.”

Chapter Text

There are not many who can claim they’ve called Orochimaru a bitch, and there are even less who can say that they spat it into his face.

It’s not the best decision. It’s not even a good one. Nonetheless, he meets the devil’s golden gaze, grins with crimson-stained teeth, and laughs.

Orochimaru’s hand lashes out, icy fingers digging into his chin. “Pray there be mercy in the Pure Lands,” he hisses, amusement wiped clean from his expression, “For I will not bestow any such kindness upon a fool like you.”

Obito forces out a raspy exhale and leans forwards with a whisper on his lips. “Better not give me any sort of disease with those gross-ass nails, you poetic fuck.”

Orochimaru’s grip tightens for all of a moment before Obito is sent flying through the air.

He chokes on a wheeze when wood splinters beneath his back, and absently hopes that amongst the cracking sounds he hears, none of them belong to his bones.

Before he can even bring himself to his feet, Orochimaru grabs him by the collar and throws him to the forest floor. His teeth gnash together, rattling in his skull, and dust swarms within his vision.

“What you have is not courage,” Orochimaru informs him, stepping out from the tawny cloud to plant his foot onto Obito’s chest, “But plain idiocy.”

“That’s not… what your mom said… last night…,” Obito manages to choke out. His lips part a moment later, and as his vision flashes white, a pained scream is ripped from his throat.

“I’d suggest you’d quit while you’re ahead,” Orochimaru hisses dangerously, face sloughing off in chunks, “But you’ve already fallen far behind.”

Obito forces out a strangled laugh, shuddering when his ribs creak. “Thought you… might’ve been lonely… back there… all by yourself…”

Orochimaru narrows his eyes, and just before he manages to lower his heel once again, Obito latches onto his ankle with his left arm.

“Hnggh,” Obito lets out intelligently, and uses the brief window he has to roll to the side.

I’m going to vomit, he thinks as stars twinkle in his vision. He can barely breathe.

Still, he forces himself to stand on trembling legs, inhaling sharply when he nearly trips over a stray root.

“Pathetic,” Orochimaru says, disgust defiling his annoyingly elegant features. “Konoha has truly lowered its standards since I’ve left.”

Obito frowns, briefly, before remembering that he’s wearing some mockery of an ANBU getup.

“At least… I’m not stripping… in front of a man… I’ve just met…,” he taunts as the last vestiges of Orochimaru’s disguise fall away.

“Do you truly not know when to quit?” Orochimaru asks, looking like he’s had some sort of epiphany. “You’re almost as terrible as Jiraiya.”

I’m just hoping that if you get annoyed enough, you’ll just keel over and die, he thinks, but does not say.

Instead, he offers the following: “It’s an honor… to be likened… to Lord Orochimaru’s… on-and-off-again… boyfriend…”

Orochimaru blinks lazily, like a bored cat. Obito swallows back a curse. It’s clear that the man has all but lost his interest.

“I see,” he says simply, and then raises an arm. “This has been interesting, but I’m afraid I have places to be.”

Blood rushes past Obito’s ears. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

His eyes begin to burn. He’s barely able to blink the red tint from his eyes.

Between one blink and the next, Obito’s stumbling backwards several steps to the left, arm falling to his side as he watches a giant fucking tree get shredded to pieces.

Slowly, Orochimaru’s gaze slides over to him. He has recaptured his interest. He doesn’t think this is a good thing.

“Mokuton,” the man murmurs, like he’s tasting the word in his mouth. “One of them survived…?”

Shit, he thinks I’m Tenzou, he thinks, and then, Shit, he thinks I’m Tenzou.

“Hm… Perhaps you are worth keeping alive…”

Obito swallows as Orochimaru straightens to his full height, hand brushing across the mokuton-made tree.

Before he can get any closer, Obito directs a big 'Fuck You'  to the universe and slams his hand into the ground, hoping to catch Orochimaru in a bind. Unfortunately, the man is fucking fast, and the next thing he knows, he’s coming at him from his left.

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t give me so much trouble.”

Obito barely bites back a hysterical laugh. I’d appreciate it, he thinks, if you’d just fucking croak!

It’s not hard to keep growing trees, but his body is aching and he’s sure that multiple of his bones are broken. And he’s never practiced with mokuton before; he doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing.

Nothing stops Orochimaru for longer than a few seconds. This is all just some sort of fucked-up waiting game. And, as much as he’d like to believe he could keep this up for as long as he needs, Team 7’s only been gone for a few minutes now. Orochimaru could find and catch up with them easily.

Somehow, he needs to put him out of commission.

With an inhale, he puts his hands together and builds up way more chakra than he feels is safe. Then, just as Orochimaru breaches through the last set of trees, hands raised, he slams his palm onto the ground.

At once, Orochimaru is buried within Yggdrasil’s cousin, and Obito is ripped open by furious winds.

He stumbles backwards, blood spurting from his wounds.

Ah, he thinks, vision flashing as the ground grows worryingly close, This isn’t good.

Chapter Text

It’s cold. 

Obito shivers, taking in the scent of rusted iron and antiseptic. When he swallows, cracks branch out within his throat.

He’s alive. Somehow. 

Slowly, he peels his eye open, only for his brain to buffer when he sees a trembling arm inching towards his face.

“Um,” he lets out. 

The arm, riddled in bite-sized scars, freezes in place. A moment later, it’s replaced with the sight of red-rimmed eyes and wild, scarlet hair.

“You’re awake,” Karin breathes.

Obito tries not to gape at her presence. Without all of his mental faculties in place, he doubts he succeeds. “Where are we?”

She simply stares at him, eyes searching. Slowly, he ghosts a hand over his face and grimaces when he realizes that his mask is no longer in place. 

“We…,” she finally says, “I don’t… I thought you were gone. I thought maybe you left, so I went looking for you,” she admits, words coming out in a rush. “And I— I found you, in the forest. Just laying there.” She squeezes her eyes shut. “There was so much blood…”

Obito suppresses a wince, hand absently sliding down a bandaged arm. When he sees red peeking through pristine white, he decides that he doesn’t really want to see what’s underneath.

“I thought about healing you, but then… this, this man appeared, and he was… really mad, I think,” she whispers. “I thought he was gonna kill you. But then he saw me, and—” She cuts herself off and swallows. “Then he took us both.”

“Took us,” Obito echoes, heart drumming. Does that mean they’re in one of Orochimaru’s labs?

“I tried to get them to heal you,” she says quickly, frantically, “But they wouldn’t listen. All that silver-haired guy would give me were a bunch of bandages and something to clean your wounds with.”

“I believe you,” Obito says slowly when he sees the panicked look in her eyes. “We…” He forces out a breath, trying to keep his mind from drifting. “What about… Sasuke?”

“Sasuke?” Karin repeats, confusion washing away some of her fear. “Lord Orochimaru - the um, man, I mean - said that name, too… He was mad about you ruining his plans, and…” She bites the inside of her cheek. “Do you really have mokuton?”

Obito does wince, this time. “Yeah,” he mutters, paying no mind to her sharp inhale. “Yeah. Okay. So Sasuke’s not here, and he’s not going to come.”

Karin stares at him, bewildered. “Who is Sasuke?”

“Who—” he cuts himself off. “You know… uh… Emo…” He gestures vaguely towards his hair, trying to keep his trembling arms still. “Wild hair… Kinda like a duck’s ass, or something…”

If anything, Karin only looks more concerned for his health and safety.

Obito resists the urge to groan. “He…” He blinks, snapping his fingers together. “The kid who saved you from that giant frickin’ snake.”

“Oh,” Karin lets out. “Oh. Um. Why do you guys…?”

“Orochimaru wants to give him a cursed hickey,” he answers, ignoring the choked sound she makes in favor of trying to figure out what the fuck he should do. He’s in no state to fight, obviously, but he shouldn’t really need to. Probably. Hopefully.

Doug, he just wants a nap.

“Tobi-san,” Karin says, and Obito takes a good few seconds to realize that she’s referencing him. When he meets her gaze, she swallows and raises her arm once again. “You need to… you need to bite me.”

Obito blinks. Then blinks again. “Absolutely not,” he replies, then goes back to his musing.

“Wh— but if you don’t—”

“I’ll be fine,” he says, waving her off. “Probably.”

“That is not very reassuring,” she says a little hysterically.

Obito turns towards her, frowning. “I’m not going to bite you, Karin. I already told you that wasn’t necessary anymore. I’m not going back on that.”

While Karin stares at him, eyes wide, Obito resists the urge to slam his head into the wall. He should’ve stayed far away from Naruto; clearly, he’s contracted protagonist cooties if his nindo bullshit is spilling out of his mouth.

He really does need a healer though. He can already feel blood pooling beneath his bandages, and he’s not certain that he can last for longer than a few hours without passing out in an incredibly embarrassing fashion. Even then, he might be overestimating the hell out of himself.

Unfortunately, he only knows one (1) healer, and only has a vague idea on where she might be.

But his lizard brain has always been an avid supporter of stupid fucking ideas.

“How would you,” he asks slowly, “Like to expedite that visit to Tsunade?”

Karin gapes at him, but he simply nods to himself.

“Yeah,” he lets out. “ Yeah. This can only go well.”

“You— how are we going to find her?” she asks, clearly trying to get him to see reason. “How are we going to get out of here?”

Obito hesitates for all of a moment before remembering that it’s either this, he’s experimented on by Orochimaru for the rest of his life, or he fucking dies. “Too bad, so sad,” he answers, ignoring the fact that his response makes absolutely no sense in this context. 

Questions like that are asked by the wise, and I’m about as far from that as you can get. Let’s a go, Mario.

Karin looks at him like he’s just spat out the words of a drug addict. He realizes that he might’ve said that last bit out loud.

“You did,” she says, brows furrowing.

Obito briefly mourns his brain-to-mouth filter before placing a hand on Karin’s shoulder. “Hold on tight,” he suggests, and before she can do more than blink, he brings them both to Tanzaku Gai.

Karin stumbles, looking a little green.

“If you’re gonna vomit, please do it on the road,” he says, feeling a little lightheaded himself. Apparently, kamui is bad for extensive injuries. Who knew?

Karin shakes her head firmly before raising her gaze to meet Obito’s. “How did you—” she begins, only to choke on a gasp when she sees the spinning, red death wheel that takes up residence in Obito’s eye socket. “You’re an Uchiha…?” she murmurs, wide-eyed.

Obito gives one, sharp nod, and immediately regrets it when his head swims. Doug, he hopes he doesn’t pass out on his temporary ward in an unfamiliar place, like some other Sharingan-holders he knows.

He knows that Tsunade isn’t here, specifically, because she’s not supposed to arrive for… well, he doesn’t know the specifics, but not for a while after the chunin exams. At least a month or two. But she’s probably not too far off, since she travels between gambling towns like a nomad with particularly loose-morals.

(He hopes.)

“We need to… find a map or something,” he mutters. “Or someone who conveniently knows everything about this place.”

Karin frowns. “Well… there is a tourist shop over there,” she offers.

Obito pauses, then blinks. “Huh. Good job,” he says, oblivious to her preening at the minor praise. “C’mon, then.”

It’s harder to avoid the gaze of the vultures (i.e.: employees who he swears can smell his fear), than it is to find a map. Luckily, he’s able to get in and out swiftly without kamui, though he does have to pause for a moment when he meets back up with Karin.

“Fine,” he says, waving her off when he spots her concerned gaze. “Let’s take a look at this thing.”

Karin frowns, but nods nonetheless, and he lowers the map enough so that they can both see it.

“Looks like there’s…a lot more than I thought…,” Obito says, a little distraught. “Dear Doug, this is gonna take centuries.”

“What are we even looking for?”

Obito blinks, and promptly remembers that he never actually told her how to find Tsunade. “Ah. Tsunade can usually be found in gambling towns. It’s why she’s known as the ‘Legendary Sucker’.”

Well, part of the reason why, anyway.

Karin bites her lip, finger trailing up from Tanzaku Gai. “Well… if this is our starting point, we should probably go through the back roads the other way, since someone as famous as Tsunade probably wouldn’t want to be spotted on a merchant road. And she probably won’t be hanging around anywhere that’s too seedy, either. So we can cross out… a lot of these places,” she reasons. “And if she’s coming here soon or has left here recently, she’s probably only going to be within this area, though we could expand it a little since she’s a trained ninja, and probably moves pretty fast. But it’s unlikely that she’ll stay in one place for less than a week or two, so even then, she can’t be too far off.”

When she finishes speaking, she looks up at a gobsmacked Obito and flushes.

“Or… Uh… at least that’s what I’m guessing, anyway.”

“Karin,” Obito says solemnly, placing his hands on her shoulders, “You are a genius.”

“Wh— what? Oh, no, I’m just—”

“A genius,” he repeats. “Doug, maybe you should talk to Jiraiya or something. He can teach you all that freaky spymaster shit, and start you on fuinjutsu.” He grimaces. “Though… we should probably wait for Tsunade to knock some sense into him first.”

“...Huh?”

Obito shakes his head and grins. “Good job, though. Now we only have a few places to check out. I mean, it’s not like we can guess wrong every time before finding ourselves at the right place.”

By the time they find Tsunade, Obito is dead on his feet, and Karin looks like she’s ready to catch him at any moment.

Somehow, some-fucking-how, Tsunade really is in the place they check last.

Or, he assumes as much anyway. Where Tsunade goes, Shizune is bound to follow, and they’ve found Shizune, so the blonde better be hanging around here too.

He and Karin follow behind her for several minutes until she leads them into an alley and turns around with narrowed eyes, shooting a senbon his way.

Only then does Obito realize that tracking a trained ninja like a stumbling drunk hadn’t been the best idea.

He grabs onto Karin and allows the senbon to pass through both of them, then opens his mouth to speak.

Instead, he stumbles forwards and, for the second time in the last few days, finds himself falling towards the ground, dead tired.

Oh, come the fuck on, he thinks sourly, and then promptly passes out.

Chapter Text

‘Twas the night before Dougmas

when all through the house

Not a creature was stirring

not even a mouse;

The stockings were hung

by the chimney with care

In hopes that St. Doug soon would be there…

This is the funniest fucking idea Obito’s ever had. It’s probably also the dumbest, but he’s more than committed to this bit; if he goes down, at least he’ll go down laughing his ass off, because he’s gonna be fucking Santa Claus.

Well, not him. He’s the reindeer - the transportation. Doug is gonna be the one causing the chaos.

Unfortunately, he can’t make it to every single house in the elemental nations, but committing anti-robbery in the home of each person he’s familiar with should be… well, not easy, but it shouldn’t take too long, either.

He even has an entire route planned out. One made through careful observation throughout the past month, which he should not be judged for because he’s not stalking anyone, he’s simply ensuring that they won’t be home or awake when he breaks into their home in order to leave behind gifts of unknown origin.

…

But he digresses.

He decides to go on easy mode first, which ironically forces him to kamui into the homes of several elite jounin. They only make up his weird-ass tutorial stage because, while there may be traps aplenty plus the risk of getting shanked, they a.) Aren’t ANBU level and b.) Aren’t in a clan compound that has so much warding that it’s mind-boggling.

Kakashi and Tenzou are the exceptions, because he’s going to the former’s house last, and the latter is a former ROOT agent and a member of ANBU, and he needs to warm up a little before diving into that mess.

He starts in the jounin apartment block, where a good chunk of his targets reside. Namely: Hayate, Yuugao, Genma, Ebisu, and Kurenai.

His method is made up of several easy-to-follow steps:

1. Get in.
2. Place the gift.
3. Take a picture of Doug, in the cute little Santa onesie he’d spent ages stitching together, sitting in front of the gift.
4. Leave behind a photo frame of the aforementioned picture.
5. Get out.

There are a few other things in there, such as, ‘Don’t get caught,’ and ‘Try not to get killed by a stray trap, because that’d be really fucking embarrassing,’ but he’s pretty sure he can handle that.

Whatever’s coming, Obito is fucking ready. He’s gonna be the best goddamn reindeer ever; this is gonna be great.

Sasuke twitches as a light burst of chakra flickers somewhere in the house.

His grip tightens on the kunai under his pillow and, slowly, he rises out of bed. A crimson tint slides over his vision, and after a quick glance back and forth, he slips into the hall. 

He avoids the creaky floorboard he’d never gotten around to fixing - and he doubts that he ever will, even if he can hear his father grumbling each time he remembers it’s there - and creeps around the corner silently, holding his breath. He sees—

Nothing.

With a frown, he steps forward, free hand twitching to his side. After a moment of hesitation, he flicks the lights on, only to wince when it briefly overloads his vision.

Itachi wouldn’t have made a mistake like that, a voice in the back of his mind whispers. He presses his lips together and squashes down on the thought. Yeah, well, Itachi is also a psycho, so fuck you.

After he (probably unhealthily) finishes indulging in an internal argument, his eyes fall upon a box sitting on his table. Suddenly alert, he circles around it, brows furrowing when he sees that it’s wrapped in dark blue paper, then stopping entirely when he sees the Uchiha fan plastered on its front.

He licks suddenly dry lips and slowly inches towards the box, ready to kawarimi away at a moment’s notice. But even when he’s standing right before it, the box appears innocuous. And it almost looks like… a present.

Sasuke’s gaze slides to the left, and he spots a previously-unnoticed picture frame sitting beside the box. In the center is a picture of an ugly, stuffed dog in front of the present, and wearing an odd, red outfit.

He snatches the note that’s folded up to its side. When it doesn’t explode, he slowly unfurls it, only to blink in bewilderment as he scans over the words.

---

“Merry Dougmas, Sasuke.

I think this house is a little too empty, don’t you?

So I asked one of my friends to keep you some company. I hope you don’t mind ;)

Sincerely,

Doug.”

---

Sasuke’s eyes flick between the note and the apparent gift. He presses his lips together, cautious, only to freeze when he hears an odd mewling sound.

It’s then that he notices that the box is not wrapped, but is instead made to look like it is. And there are holes punctured into it, too, like there’s—

Like there’s something alive in there.

Sasuke stares at the box, breathless, before slowly reaching towards the top. Stupid, his mind tells him. Dangerous. 

He agrees. He really does. But he pulls the top off nonetheless. And inside—

A fuzzy, black kitten blinks back at him and mews.

He swallows as it rises out of the box, walking towards the edge to greet him. It’s tiny.

Hello, it seems to meow, peering at him with sweet, golden eyes.

“Hi,” he murmurs back, slowly lowering his hand towards the kitten before he even knows what he’s doing. The kitten purrs and brushes its chin against his finger, and he shudders before beginning to scratch it behind the ears. “You’re so… small.”

The kitten purrs in response. He doesn’t realize he’s crying until a teardrop thumps against the box.

“Oh,” he murmurs, taking in a shaky breath. “Oh.”

Slowly, he pulls the kitten from the box and holds it against his chest, trembling. The kitten purrs before licking his chin, and he chokes on a laugh.

“Well,” he whispers. “Hello to you, too.”

When Sasuke awakens for the second time, there’s a warm body by his side. He stares at it - her - for several minutes before he finally manages to blink.

“I have training today,” he tells her when she opens her eyes. “You can’t come with me. It’d be too dangerous.”

The kitten mews in response.

“I can’t,” he repeats, shaking his head. “I can’t.”

An hour later, he finds himself at the training grounds with a kitten on his shoulder, nipping at his hair. When Naruto arrives with a rusty golden retriever and Sakura with a light-furred rabbit, they all become locked in a staring contest for all of a minute before Naruto breaks the silence.

“Doug?” he asks, a laugh in his throat.

Sasuke breathes. “Doug,” he answers, at the same time as Sakura.

“Ah.”

When they all turn, startled, Kakashi is standing there, looking at all of them with an odd look in his eye.

“You’re not late,” Sakura says dumbly.

“No,” Kakashi says slowly, looking like he’s had an epiphany. “I’m not.” After a moment, he huffs out a laugh. “Doug?” he asks.

Sasuke shares another look with his teammates before they all nod at once.

“Ah,” Kakashi says again. “I’ve heard we’re celebrating Dougmas today.”

“Did he give you an animal too, sensei?” Naruto asks, absently petting his puppy as it licks his face. 

Kakashi lets out something reminiscent of a snort, but sounds a little too airy. “No. No he did not,” he says, and then doesn’t elaborate. “I suppose it wouldn’t make much sense to have training today…”

He exhales. “You three, come on. We’re going to visit the Inuzukas.”

Naruto blinks. “Why?”

“You don’t expect those pets to survive on nothing, do you?” he asks with a raised brow, not making note of his genin’s dumbstruck expressions. “No. Now come on already. Whatever Doug gave you will only last for so long.”

“Wh— how did you know about that?!” Naruto asks. When Kakashi doesn’t respond, he growls and, hilariously, his dog yips too.

After sharing a glance, Sasuke and Sakura, along with their new pets, follow after him.

Today, Sasuke decides. Is… nice.

Obito watches Team 7 leave with a relieved breath, glad that he doesn’t seem to have irreversibly fucked anything up.

Kakashi’s gift was—

Hard. But necessary.

An unintentional reality check, delivered through a stuffed dog.

He huffs out a laugh and turns away, absently rubbing his hand against Doug’s fur. “One day,” he promises, breaths frosting over. “Soon, but not yet.”

Happy Holidays, all.

Chapter Text

Obito’s beginning to wonder if the whole ‘passing out thing’ is genetic. Or rather, linked to his Sharingan specifically.

He almost hopes that’s the case. It’d be embarrassing if he and Kakashi just happened to be terrible at keeping themselves conscious. It’s always when the arc is just settling down, too.

“I know you’re awake, brat.”

Obito suppresses a wince as he cracks an eye open. “Oh,” he says weakly, “Hey, Tsunade. How’s life?”

The woman’s eye twitches. Just as he’s starting to worry about his health and safety, Shizune steps forward.

“Is he finally up?” she asks, then blinks when she notices him. “Ah… Hello.”

“...Yo,” Obito responds blandly. “How’s the wife and kids?”

Shizune stares at him, briefly, before shaking her head. “Karin was worried about you,” she claims, causing him to jolt. He promptly regrets it when his head swims. “I wouldn’t move so fast if I were you,” she warns belatedly, which Obito is fairly certain is some kind of punishment.

You did stalk her for several blocks before falling onto your face like a dumbass, his (vaguely concerning) internal voice points out bluntly.

… Fair enough.

“Karin,” Obito says after a moment. “Is she around?”

“She’s been helping the other two brats,” Tsunade interjects grumpily, causing Obito’s eyes to light up.

Other two brats? Does that mean Shin and Sai are still around?

Of course, he doesn’t ask the question aloud because he’s pretty sure Tsunade might actually murder him if she finds out he’s dropped three children on her doorstep to deal with, but the thought is nice.

“She’s told us a few things about your situation,” Shizune mentions, “But we’d like to hear what happened from you, if that’s alright.”

Obito grimaces. “Uh…”

“We already know who you went after, brat,” Tsunade says with a sniff, looking straight past him. “Just get on with it.”

“...Right. I was mostly just there to make sure that Orochimaru didn’t…” He mimes biting his neck by clamping down his hand. “That cursed seal of his is pretty nasty, so I figured it would be better if I just took it out of the equation entirely.”

Tsunade looks towards him, then. “Why didn’t he just kill you?” she asks bluntly.

“Lady Tsunade!” Shizune scolds, eyes flicking between her and Obito.

The blonde rolls her eyes. “I know I’m right. He would’ve, unless he found you interesting. And if he had, there’d be no reason for him to beat you bloody.”

Obito’s gaze slides away. He’s barely able to keep himself from whistling innocently.

“Brat.”

He winces. “Um. As it turns out, Orochimaru is not a fan of…” He opens, then closes his mouth. “...Jokes.”

“...Jokes,” Tsunade echoes blandly.

“That’s my answer and I’m sticking with it,” Obito decides. Before she can try and force him to elaborate, he moves on. “And he did. Find me uh, interesting I mean. Because I can—”

He cuts himself off, freezing in place.

“Use mokuton.” Obito’s eyes snap onto hers. She presses her lips together. “The redhead told me. So. What’s the deal with that, hm?”

Obito swallows. “Um,” he lets out, higher pitched than he’d have liked.

“You’re not a Senju, I know that much,” Tsunade says, amber eyes piercing into his soul. “Hell, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were an Uchiha.”

Karin didn’t tell on me? he thinks, surprised, then grimaces.

“...No,” he eventually says. “You’re right, I’m not a Senju. But I’m not one of Orochimaru’s experiments, either.”

Tsunade blinks, brows furrowing.

“It was… someone else,” Obito says slowly. “I don’t know how they did it. I just woke up, and half of my body was uh… Hashiramafied.”

Tsunade stares at him. Obito stares back. He wonders why this exact scenario keeps happening to him.

“Hashiramafied,” she echoes flatly.

“His cells are pretty funky,” Obito says, then promptly resists the urge to smack himself in the face. “I mean. My whole right side was fucked up, so it was… replaced. And now I can use mokuton, I guess.”

Good job, Obito. You don’t sound like an insensitive lunatic at all!

Tsunade stares at him for another moment before leaning back to grab some sort of alcohol. Instead of filling a glass, she just takes a swig straight from the bottle.

“Lady Tsunade…” Shizune lets out, pained. She looks like it’s taking everything she has not to try and take the bottle from the blonde.

After several moments, Tsunade lowers her drink. “Leave.”

Obito blinks. “...What?”

“I want you and the redhead gone,” she says plainly. “I have enough stowaways sticking around.”

Obito opens and closes his mouth.

It’s… fine if he has to leave. He’s (pretty) sure that he won’t just keel over, if one of them bothered to heal his injuries. But he can’t take Karin with him.

“Oh, no no no. I know that look in your eyes,” Tsunade says accusingly, pointing towards him. “I am not taking your brat.”

“She’s not my brat,” Obito protests. “Listen, I just—”

“No,” she says firmly. “Absolutely not. Now fuck off already.”

Obito presses his lips together, frustrated. “You can’t just—”

“I can.”

He exhales, pushing himself to his feet. “I promised.”

“You shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep,” Tsunade says, waving him off to take another drink from her bottle. Shizune looks at him sympathetically, but doesn’t move to stop her.

Obito remains still for several moments before forcing out a breath. “Fine.”

“Finally. Now—”

“Fine,” he repeats. “I’ll leave if you can touch me.”

Tsunade pauses, squinting. “What?”

“I’m proposing a bet,” he says plainly.

She eyes him for a moment before snorting. “Kid, I’m not interested.”

Obito blinks. “What—” he starts, then flushes. “No— no. I didn’t. Ugh.” He drags his hands down his face and fights to force the red from his cheeks. “I’m suggesting that you and I fight. If you can touch me even once, I’ll leave and never come back. If not… you have to hear me out.”

Tsunade narrows her eyes at him. He can tell she’s pissed, but she’s undoubtedly considering it. Shizune looks torn between bewilderment and exasperation.

“...How long?” the blonde eventually asks, tone even.

Five seconds, preferably. “A minute?”

Tsunade snorts at him. “One minute?” she says, raising a brow. “Yeah, hell no. That’s nothing. See ya, kid.”

Obito swallows. He knows that even if he’d used kamui in his ‘fight’ against Orochimaru, he still wouldn’t be fast enough to avoid half of those attacks.

…Then again, he’d also been trying to hit him back. With Tsunade, he wouldn’t have to flicker in and out too much. It might be a little taxing if it goes on for too long, but…

“Fine,” he eventually says. “What do you suggest, then?”

The woman cocks her head to the side, bottle leaving her lips. After a moment, she grins. It’s shark-like enough to rival Kisame’s. “Ten minutes,” she decides. “And any outside forces count. If you get hit by a stray rock, that’s on you.”

“Ah,” Obito lets out. Well, that’s pretty shitty.

“Oh and,” she says, glancing at her nails, “That girl has to be there, too.”

Obito frowns. “What?”

“This is for her, isn’t it? So it’d only make sense that you’d have to keep her safe, too.”

… What.

“Lady Tsunade,” Shizune protests, “You can’t mean that. She could get hurt!”

“That’s not my problem,” the blonde says. “Besides, it’s his call.”

Amber meets coal, and Obito swallows.

“...Fine,” he says as he holds out his hand, feeling a little like he’s offering his soul to the devil. “It’s a deal.”

Tsunade squeezes his hand in her own, and even though hers is far smaller, he’s barely able to keep himself from wincing. 

“Good luck, brat,” she says with a grin. “Because you’re gonna need it.”

Chapter Text

“You don’t have to do this, you know.”

Obito morosely munches on a french fry. It’s cold and has nowhere near enough salt. Then again, he hadn't even known they existed before today, so at least there's that.

“Tobi-san—”

“No,” he mutters. “It’s fine. I’ll just… try not to die.”

Karin frowns. “You look like you’re going to keel over.”

“I might,” he responds airily. “I don’t think my heartbeat has ever been so fast before. Though I can’t tell if that’s from the lack of sleep or the stress. Maybe both.” He glares at his fries. “Definitely not those. They aren’t even giving me a hint of heartburn.”

“They’re not supposed to,” Karin says, looking more exasperated than anything else. Clearly, she’s getting used to his antics.

…He’s not sure whether to be offended or not.

“It’s about the thrill, Karin,” Obito says, lifting another fry between his fingers. “And these are just sad.”

“So are you,” she says bluntly. He reels back, wounded, and she rolls her eyes. “You’re so melodramatic.”

“It’s called the art of performance,” he replies with a sniff, then mutters under his breath. “It’s way classier than whatever Kakashi has going on…”

Karin rolls her eyes again. Sourly, Obito wonders what kind of jedi mind tricks she’d been subjected to, because there’s no way this Karin is the same one he’d met like, a week ago.

(It’s good for her, and he’s happy, but does she have to direct all of her sass towards him?)

“Really, though. I’m sure I can find something else to do. I mean… A lot of people…” Karin trails off, faltering.

Obito bites back a groan. “I already told you, no. I’m not just gonna throw you to the sharks.” Not that Kisame would even know what to do with you.

He pauses at that thought, mind drifting back to Haku and Zabuza. An image of Karin cackling while swinging around Samehada appears in his mind. He shudders.

“Karin, please never apprentice under a scary shark man. Especially if they have a giant, man-eating sword.”

Karin blinks. “What?”

“Nevermind. The point is, I’m doing this no matter how much you try to convince me otherwise.” When she tries to interject, he meets her gaze. “I made you a promise, and I intend to keep it.”

She swallows and hesitantly asks, “...Do you really think you can?”

No. Abso-fucking-lutely not. By the end of this, I’ll probably be reduced to a groaning pancake. I’ve already made the mom’s spaghetti joke before, but goddamn it, it applies here too.

Instead of saying all of that, he grins. “‘Course I can. What do you take me for?”

Karin eyes him, and Obito is one-hundred percent sure that she can see him quaking in his metaphorical boots. 

“Okay,” she says anyway, because they’re both liars. “You’ll do fine.”

Obito exhales, pulling on his sleeve. “Is it hot out here, or have I just spontaneously burst into flame?”

“I don’t believe that’s how the expression goes,” Sai inputs. From beside him, Shin snorts.

“Hgnghgng,” Obito says intelligently, then turns pleading eyes on Shizune. “Take a look at me, doc. I think I’m dying.”

She raises a brow. “Are you just trying to get out of the bet? You know, you could always just call it off. No one’s forcing you to do this.”

Obito slumps. “We’ve already started battling yet and everyone’s already attacking me...”

“It’s your own fault, brat,” Tsunade tells him as she joins them, smiling with all her teeth. “Unless you want to admit defeat…”

Obito scowls. “No.”

Tsunade shrugs, smirking. “It’s your own funeral.”

“Tsunade-sama is going to crush you,” Sai adds pleasantly. Shin coughs into his hand, eyes sparkling with amusement.

“Thanks for that vote of confidence,” Obito says dryly, then spins around to face Karin. “You believe in me, don’t you?”

Karin stares at him, then offers an awkward smile. He stumbles back, hand on his chest.

“Ouch…”

“Enough with the dramatics, hm?” Tsunade says, looking surprisingly amused. “Why don’t we get started?”

Because I fear for my life, Obito thinks, but does not say. Judging by the way Tsunade’s lip quirks upwards, though, it’s probably written all over his face.

“Yeah,” he says after a beat too long. Behind him, Karin covers her face, and Obito swallows back a hysterical laugh. “Let’s do this.”

Chapter Text

Contrary to what Obito’s most recent cliffhanger line suggested, the fight does not begin immediately. Instead, Tsunade has her minions Sai and Shin mark out a makeshift arena.

“So you don’t try to drag this thing out by fucking off to who knows where,” Tsunade claims.

Immediately after, Shizune leans in to not-so-subtly whisper in his ear. “Lady Tsunade has enough debts to her name already. We don’t need even more property damage added to the list,” she says a little apologetically.

“I heard that!”

Shizune steps away from Obito and offers a pleasant smile. “For what it’s worth, good luck,” she says before walking past the boundary line. He gets the feeling that she believes he’s about to get pancaked. Which is honestly fair, because he also thinks he’s about to get pancaked.

On another note, Obito is also very careful to wear his best poker face throughout their little conversation. The idea of running off hadn’t crossed his mind even once, which is frankly embarrassing considering his track record.

He’s not quite sure if grabbing onto Karin and leaping into kamui for the next ten minutes counts as leaving the arena, but he decides not to take any chances. It may allow him to win this battle, but he would definitely lose whatever war Tsunade would wage on him in retribution.

Slugs, he has learned, are far more terrifying than snakes.

“We good?” Tsunade calls out. 

Shin offers a double thumbs up, which Sai awkwardly attempts to imitate, much to his brother’s amusement.

“Well then,” Tsunade says, cracking her knuckles as she turns back towards Obito, “Let’s get a move on, hm?”

And then, because nobody in this fucking universe cares about things like forewarning, manslaughter, or even the barest hints of courtesy, he promptly yelps as he throws himself out of the way of an oncoming boulder that aims to take his head off.

What the fuck, he thinks succinctly.

Karin stares at the crater for several seconds before turning towards him. “Would you like to be cremated or buried?”

Obito’s gaze slides back to Tsunade, who shoots him a shark-like grin that has him regretting every life decision he’s ever made up until this point. “Cremated, please,” he answers blandly, already having gone through all of the five stages of grief within an instant. “I’m not into the whole zombie thing. It’d be terrible for my complexion.”

Karin shoots him a quizzical look, and he barely has the time to offer her a strained grin in response before he’s dragging both of them out of the way of what appears to be a man-made meteor.

“Hasn’t anyone ever told you that you’re supposed to keep your eyes on your opponent?” Tsunade asks, raising a brow.

“Hasn’t anyone ever told you not to play with your food?” he snarks back. Karin facepalms behind him, and his remark only seems to make Tsunade even more amused.

Nonetheless, he directs an apology towards the french-fry afterlife. They were kinda terrible and totally deserved what they got, but it’s the thought that counts.

Speaking of things that fucking suck: It’s barely been thirty seconds, and Obito’s almost died twice. It’s official, Sannin powers are absolute bullshit.

(Ignore the fact that he has both Hashirama’s cells and the Sharingan. Those barely even count when in the hands of someone who knows fuck-all about how to use them.)

Because he’s saltier than yesterday’s french fries (which admittedly isn’t much of an accomplishment), he splits the earth with a gigantic tree the next time Tsunade tries to chuck a boulder in his direction. He smirks when she stumbles back, wide-eyed, but is quick to realize that agitating the insane slug lady is perhaps not the best idea.

Despite being the same size as the tree he’d used to take Orochimaru out of the game, she manages to shatter the thing with a single, well-placed punch after getting over her shock. Shards of wood explode outwards, heading towards him like tiny pin-missiles.

“Uh oh,” he lets out intelligently, then divebombs to the ground with Karin at his side.

“Really?” she hisses out when he accidentally tugs on her hair.

“I’m trying.”

“Well maybe you should start trying better.”

“That doesn’t even make any— oh shit.”

Obito tightens his grip and throws Karin forwards before rolling out of the way. With an exhale, he jerks both of them into a standing position, staring wide-eyed at the crater where they’d been laying moments prior.

“Is she trying to kill us?” he wonders faintly, more than a little horrified.

Karin grimaces and looks away.

“You know, at this point, it might be kinder if you just spit in my face.”

“Jeez, kid,” Tsunade comments, “I thought my teammates were terrible with battle-talk, but you might have just taken the cake.”

“Orochimaru’s monologuing is much worse,” Obito assures her, which actually causes her to snort.

Also, he hasn’t even shown off his true power. Which is, of course, being the most annoying motherfucker on the planet.

(Aside from Zetsu, of course. He and his alien mom can eat shit.)

He just hopes he can last long enough to pull out his trap card. And that it actually works as intended, because he would never live it down otherwise.

Tsunade hums and glances towards her assistants. “How long have we got left?”

“Eight minutes, forty-two seconds,” Shin answers, single-handedly crushing Obito’s hopes and dreams.

Tsunade nods in response, then meets Obito’s gaze. Several uncomfortable seconds pass before she grins.

“That’s an even thirty,” she says, and promptly launches towards Obito with her fist cocked back and ready to Baja Blast his brains out.

“Dodge!” Karin screams.

“Fucking obviously!” Obito shouts back, voice tinged with a touch of hysteria.

And he does manage to, somehow. But his arm is noticeably breezy, and when he turns towards Tsunade, she’s holding a piece of his sleeve in her hand and looking distinctly smug.

“That was a warning shot,” she tells him, lips curled into a grin.

“Eight minutes, twenty-five seconds!” Shin calls out afterwards.

“Ah,” Obito lets out, realizing that the universe has seemingly decided to take all of its accumulated potshots at once. “Fuck.”

Chapter Text

“Tobi-san…” Karin lets out faintly.

“...Karin,” he agrees.

Life would’ve been so much easier had I been reincarnated as anyone else, he thinks mournfully. Anything else. 

But it occurs to him, then, that he might not even be safe as a worm. He’s already seen enough to know that Tsunade’s ground-shattering punches would leave him a pink, blobby mess.

Woe is him, and all that.

Obito sighs and shifts his stance into something that doesn’t practically scream ‘I’m about to piss myself.’

“Give up?” Tsunade asks, wearing a shit-eating grin. He almost wishes that were the case. She so deserves to have an unpleasant taste in her mouth after putting him through all of this… well, shit.

“No,” Obito replies, though it sounds a little mulish. He’s doing his best not to keel over from an anxiety-induced heart attack, sue him.

Tsunade offers a one-shouldered shrug as she picks herself back up. “Your funeral,” she says once again. 

Momentarily, he finds himself missing Orochimaru. The banter was far more interesting, and he knew that he could bolt the fuck away if he really needed to.

He then promptly gags at the thought and decides to shove it in the deepest corners of his mind where it can never hurt him ever again.

It’s interesting that he has any level of control over what he’s thinking at all, though. He wonders if he’s so off-balance that it rerouted him back to square one.

And then he remembers that he’s mid-battle, and he pointedly does not scream like a little girl as he throws himself away from another devastating punch.

“Kid,” Tsunade says simply, almost scolding in nature.

Obito exhales, face burning. “Shut up,” he replies, eliciting a bark of laughter from the blonde. 

“I’ve gone easy on you so far,” she mentions casually, and Obito resists the urge to drop to his knees and go full-Madara, screaming about the injustices in the world. He could even shout Tsunade’s name all dramatically, since she’s literally Hashirama’s grandkid. “But as amusing as this is, I have things to do, so I’ll just go ahead and wrap this up.”

I hate it here, Obito decides as Tsunade rolls her shoulders.

Then, before she can move, he shouts out, “TIME!”

Tsunade pauses. Karin pauses. Long story short, everyone pauses.

“What?” the blonde lets out, brows raised.

Obito bites back a half-hysterical laugh. “How much time do we have?” he asks, fairly certain that his desperation leaks into his tone.

Tsunade blinks, then snorts. “Well?” she asks, throwing her head back to look at Shin.

“Seven minutes, fifty-two seconds,” he answers, looking almost apologetic as he glances at Obito.

Rude.

“Good enough,” he tells them, even though it’s most certainly not.

Between one blink and the next, his vision gains a reddish tint. Tsunade falters, and Shizune lets out a sharp exhale. Even Sai and Shin look like they’ve been caught off-guard.

“Well,” he says with a crooked grin, barely able to hear himself over the sound of blood rushing past his ears, “Shall we continue?”

Tsunade, to her credit, shakes off her bewilderment fairly quickly. “That cheap trick will only help you so much,” she claims. Her eyes reflect a mixture of curiosity, tentative anger, and oddly enough, guilt. All combined, they translate to something like, Later.

Obito lets out a discordant hum. “Karin,” he murmurs, “Don’t panic.”

“What—” she begins, only to yelp when he grabs onto her arm.

Then, because Obito’s stuck in the 2010s and has the self-control of a toddler, he leans forwards and shouts the first thing that comes to mind.

“Come at me, bro!”

He physically cringes immediately afterwards, but Tsunade certainly does come at him, bro.

Karin screams. Obito is barely able to keep himself from doing the same.

“What the fuck,” Tsunade says flatly, standing behind him. “What the fuck?”

Obito finally lets out the hysterical laugh he’s been holding while he tries to ignore everyone’s pointed gazes. “What can I say? I had a little trick up my sleeve.”

“A little trick,” Karin breathes disbelievingly, staring at him with wide eyes.

“That is more than a little trick,” Sai proclaims, voice just a touch higher than normal. For him, that might as well mean his socks have been blasted through the stratosphere.

“How?” Shizune asks, dumbfounded.

“...I’m just talented like that.”

“This is why you suggested this as a challenge,” Shin realizes, eyeing him oddly. “You knew you couldn’t beat her in combat, so you used the one thing you had in order to make up for it.”

“But he didn’t use it from the beginning.” Obito’s gaze snaps onto a narrow-eyed Tsunade, whose expression is unreadable. “Which means that there’s a limit.”

Obito sweats. “No there’s not,” he claims. 

Somehow, he doesn’t think anyone believes him.

Tsunade huffs. “You know, brat, I grew up alongside liars. You are by far one of the worst I’ve ever seen.”

“Well that’s rude and uncalled for.”

“I will admit, whatever you just did is impressive,” she says, readjusting her stance, “But you gave your whole game away when you asked for the time.”

Obito’s panicked mind immediately resorts to the classic ‘your mom’ joke. He swallows it before it can reach his tongue, because he values his life - despite what his former actions may suggest - and knows that it will not be appreciated.

He’s certain that he can keep up sporadic kamui if necessary, but while Tsunade is no Orochimaru, she’s fast and he’s not confident enough in his abilities to think that’ll be enough to handle her, especially since he also needs to protect Karin. An extended kamui would work, but he doubts he could pull it off for more than a few minutes, and after that, he’d be reduced to a pile of useless flesh.

No, what he needs to do is avoid her until there’s roughly three minutes on the clock. Only then can he pull the classic anime protagonist move of pulling out the trump card to his preexisting super move.

All of that comes out as a simple, “Did I?” in a tone far calmer than he feels.

Tsunade narrows her eyes and huffs. “Well we’ll see, won’t we, Uchiha?”

Obito bares his teeth. “Guess so, Senju.”

He then promptly grimaces. What the hell is this? A Soap Opera-esque reenactment of the Warring States Era?

With that, Tsunade launches herself towards him, and Obito lets out a (very dignified) yelp as he drags Karin along with him between frantic flickers.

“This! Is! So! Fucked!” he shouts, then chokes out a wheeze when Tsunade’s fist sinks through his impermeable chest. Tsunade smirks up at him, and just before she drags her arm through Karin, manages to teleport them to the other side of the field.

“How long can you keep this up? ” Karin hisses when they land.

“That is a good question,” Obito replies, a little lightheaded.

“That’s not an answaAAAH—”

Obito forces out an airy laugh as he stumbles forwards. “True that.”

“Already getting tired, I see?” Tsunade taunts. “And it’s barely even been a minute.”

“Your mom ’s barely even been a minute!”

There’s a brief pause.

“...What?”

“I need a nap, okay?”

“Clearly,” Sai says from the sidelines, causing Shin to snort.

Obito manages to get away from another surprise attack from Tsunade and sighs. “You know,” he mutters, “I almost feel like life was easier when I had those snickerdoodle-haters on my back.”

“Those what?”

He waves Karin off. “Not important. Just avoid anyone whose wardrobe has too many clouds, and you’ll be fine. Also, man-eating plants. But that just seems like a general rule of life.”

“...Are you okay?” Karin asks, sounding genuinely concerned for his health and safety.

Obito, after flickering away for the billionth time, briefly places a hand on her shoulder and meets her gaze. “My brain cells consistently play ping pong with themselves. I can feel them rattling around in my head, and I am certain that they escape through my ears on the regular.”

“...What?”

“No, Karin,” he says blandly. “No I am not.”

“Three minutes, fourteen seconds!” Shin proclaims.

Obito nearly melts. “Oh, thank fuck.”

After the next flicker, Obito finally entrenches himself and Karin within kamui without actually stepping into cube-land.

After the fourth miss where they remain in place, Tsunade narrows her eyes at the two of them. “This is what you were waiting for.”

Obito flashes her a smug grin even though he feels like he’s about to puke his guts out.

Tsunade eyes him for another moment, hesitant. A second passes, and the expression is gone, and there’s a steely look in her eye. “You can’t hold out that long.”

“Can’t I?”

No, really. I have no fucking idea. That whole game of cat-and-mouse took a lot out of me.

“We’ll just have to see.”

Obito does not like the sound of that, but he can only remain still as Tsunade does her best to reunite him with his clan.

It’s when there’s a minute left that he starts sensing a possible Issue™ .

See, canon Obito could hold kamui for up to five minutes. He, on the best of days, could go for about three, maybe three and a half.

It is not the best of days. It is not even close. Not to mention the fact that he’s already tired, and carrying a passenger.

Needless to say, his control starts slipping, and he’s sweating buckets as the clock ticks down.

Obito can feel it break somewhere around the ten second mark. His head is swimming, and he knows that if he tries to move, he will only succeed in falling over in an incredibly embarrassing fashion.

He does the first thing that comes to mind, armed with three brain cells and with his sanity slipping through his fingers.

“Doug,” he whispers, shakily pulling the stuffed dog from kamui, “I… choose… YOU!”

And, against all odds—

Tsunade pauses to catch him.

“What,” she says.

“What,” Obito agrees.

“TIME! ”

Obito’s gaze slowly slides from Tsunade's fist - which is about a centimeter from his face - towards Shin. “Huh,” he lets out, a little faintly. “Well then.”

And then, with all the grace of a dying fish, he falls to his knees and begins to vomit.

Chapter Text

“I’d ask how things like this keep happening to me,” Obito says cheerfully, “But I’m worried the universe might grow a physical limb just to smack me back into place.”

A young-looking officer gives him a bewildered look. Tsukauchi just sighs.

“The man from before escaped custody,” he tells him plainly. “Before we were able to catch him, he managed to get his hands on something he shouldn’t have. It had side effects.”

“Drugs?” Obito wonders aloud.

Tsukauchi’s deep sigh is answer enough. He looks distinctly like he was forced to take a rain check on a much-needed coma.

“Detective…” the younger officer trails off nervously.

“It’s fine,” Tsukauchi replies, waving him off before raising his gaze to meet Obito’s. “I’d like to say you’d be out of here by the end of today, but we’re dealing with a… situation.”

“Lovely.”

“You wouldn’t be amenable to waiting patiently, would you?”

Obito stares. Tsukauchi stares back.

“Just don’t break anything.”

Obito’s eyes curve upwards. He’s not as good as Kakashi, but he’s fairly certain that he gets the point across. “What do you take me for, Detective? Some sort of hooligan?”

Tsukauchi remains pointedly silent.

“...Ouch. What’s the sitchy-ation anyway?”

“It’s none of your—”

“Yakuza,” Tsukauchi answers, interrupting the younger, gobsmacked officer.

Obito pauses. “...They wouldn’t happen to look like they have a hankering for grain, would they?”

“Hankering,” the younger officer mouths, while Tsukauchi narrows his eyes.

“Pardon?”

“Tweet tweet,” Obito clarifies.

Tsukauchi presses his lips together. “Why do you know that.” It comes out flat enough that it sounds like a statement rather than a question.

“Yes.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“If I told you, I’d have to kill you.” After a pause, Obito narrows his eyes. “For legal reasons, that’s a joke.”

Tsukauchi pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Are you okay?” he asks, genuinely concerned. “I don’t remember you being this dead inside before.”

“The Detective hasn’t slept in nearly three days,” the younger officer helpfully provides.

“Ah,” Obito lets out. “Yikers.”

Tsukauchi rolls his eyes. It looks like it takes everything he has not to keep them facing the inside of his head. “It’s fine. Everything will be dealt with soon.”

Obito hums, considering.

Tsukauchi squints at him, suspicious. “What?”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“I didn’t like that hum,” Tsukauchi says.

Obito’s eye twitches. “Rude.” Then, when Tsukauchi doesn’t say another word, he huffs. “I might be able to take care of your problem… for a price.”

“A price?” The younger officer echoes, blinking innocently when Tsukauchi turns towards him with a disgruntled look. The kid’s learning. Good, good.

“Yes… I haven’t had good mac and cheese in ages, you see.”

Tsukauchi buries his face in his hands and groans.

“I AM HERE!”

Everyone turns to look at him.

“Was that a good impression or what?” Obito asks smugly. “I’ve been practicing.”

Suddenly, he finds himself on the other end of half a dozen guns, plus several quirks.

“Goddamn. It was just a question.”

All the guns go off at once, and Obito takes great pleasure in watching the grunts pale when their bullets shoot straight through him.

“Wanna try that again?”

Another bang rings throughout the air. Obito turns his gaze onto one man, who’s shorter than the rest. When he raises a brow, the man squeaks and hides the gun behind his back.

“Right,” he says plainly, then tilts his head to the side. “Can anyone tell me where to find a little girl? Yay high, has gray hair and a unicorn horn?”

The room remains silent.

“Uh… Hello? Earth to the worse version of Team Rocket?”

“We are not worse than Team Rocket!” someone shouts, clearly offended and obviously delusional.

“We couldn’t tell you even if we wanted to,” someone else says.

Obito pauses, then grimaces. Yeah… They probably wouldn’t just tell their lower-ranking members, would they?

“Alright, I believe you.”

“...Wait, really?”

“Yeah.” After a pause, he adds, “But I’m still gonna kick your asses.”

It takes far longer than it should to find one little girl, but he manages it in the end.

“Yo,” he greets, about as subtle as Pein’s overzealous use of Shinra Tensei.

Eri squeaks, backing up on her bed. “W-Who are you?”

Obito grimaces, remembering he’s dealing with a traumatized child. Slowly, he loosens his posture and raises his hands in surrender. “Hey,” he says in a gentler tone than he’d known he could manage, “I’m here to get you out.”

“...Get me out?” she echoes, eyes flicking around fearfully.

“Yeah. You don’t wanna be stuck in this place anymore, do you?” he asks. When she only bites her bottom lip, he tries for a smile. “I mean, it’s gotta be pretty sucky with only birds for company.”

Eri stares at him, bewildered. Obito supposes he deserves that. Evidently, he does not know how to speak to kids, much less ones that are absolutely terrified of everything.

“Listen,” he says eventually. “You don’t want to be here anymore, do you? With Overhaul?”

After a brief moment of hesitation, she gives a jerky shake of her head.

“Okay. Well, I can make sure that you never have to see him again. Would you like that?”

She tenses. “...How?”

He forcibly softens his gaze. “I know some people, and they’ll be able to take care of you. They’re heroes.”

Eri brightens slightly at that. “Heroes?” she asks. “They… They’ll help?”

“Of course.”

Her eyes spark with hope, but dim fairly quickly. “I… I don’t want them to get hurt.”

“They won’t,” Obito assures her. “I’ll make sure of it.”

“My quirk is bad,” she whispers. “And… And Overhaul…”

“Eri, can I tell you a secret?”

The girl stills. “...Okay.”

“I, ah… I know someone with a pretty nasty quirk too,” Obito half-lies. “It’s really dangerous. And… it scares him, sometimes. But you know what?”

Eri swallows. “What?”

“His friends love him anyway,” Obito says simply, causing her to inhale sharply. “And sometimes it’s really hard to control, but he manages it anyway, with the help of those he loves. But even if he messes up, they’ll help him get better again.”

There’s an extended pause. “...What’s his quirk?”

“He… can turn into a demon,” Obito says. When Eri’s eyes widen, he huffs out a laugh. “I know. Crazy, isn’t it? But you know what?”

“What? ”

“That demon isn’t so bad, either.”

Eri blinks. “But… demons are evil.”

“Only some demons,” Obito acquiesces. “But this one is misunderstood.”

Eri absently touches her horn. “I don’t understand…”

“No quirk is bad, Eri. Misunderstood, maybe, but never evil.”

“But—”

“Even if it’s scary or dangerous,” Obito interrupts gently, “That doesn’t mean it has to stay that way. It just means that you might need to try a little harder sometimes. And it’s okay to ask for help when you need it.”

“Not bad…” she murmurs.

“Right,” he breathes. “So, Eri. You don’t have to, if you don’t want to… But would you come with me?” She looks up at him, and Obito puts on a smile. “I promise that these people will care for you, regardless of your quirk. And I’ll personally make sure that Overhaul can never touch them, or you, ever again.”

Eri doesn’t look fully convinced, but after a moment, forces a nod. “Okay,” she whispers. “Okay.”

Obito exhales, allowing his smile to melt into something more genuine. “Alright. Thank you for trusting me.”

“I’m never doing that again,” Obito proclaims, holding a sleeping Eri.

“Jesus chr— what.”

Obito holds a finger to his lips, shooting Tsukauchi the stink eye. “Don’t you dare wake her up.”

Tsukauchi’s mouth opens as he glances between Obito and Eri. “Do…,” he starts, then grimaces and lowers his volume when Obito narrows his eyes. “Do I even want to know? What happened to the Shie Hassaikai?”

Obito’s expression becomes blank. “Everything is taken care of.”

“...What?”

“Everything is taken care of,” he repeats, for both of their sanities.

Not a moment later, someone bursts in through the door.

“Detective!” he shouts, then freezes when he sees Obito holding Eri. “Who… what… how…”

Obito offers him a cheerful wave, readjusting Eri so she doesn’t wake up.

Tsukauchi turns towards the other officer, looking somewhat constipated. “What is it?”

“I… Um… Here you go, sir.”

After realizing that the man is too slack-jawed to properly hand over whatever he’s holding, Tsukauchi snatches it from his hands with a huff.

His eyes quickly scan the paper. Once, then twice. “What,” he says, in a tone flatter than he’d known was possible.

Slowly, he turns. A glance, first at the paper, then at Eri, and finally settling back upon Obito. “...What was it said that you wanted?”

Obito beams. “Mac and cheese, please! The majorly processed kind,” he chirps, then realizes that he's accidentally roused Eri - who's still clinging onto Doug, adorably enough - from her sleep. “Make that two bowls!”

For what seems like the hundredth time that day, Tsukauchi lets out a longsuffering sigh.

Chapter Text

“You did it,” Karin murmurs, disbelieving. A moment later, wide, scarlet eyes fall upon Obito’s near-corpse. “You actually did it.”

Had Obito been well enough to offer some sort of verbal response, he would’ve pointed out her lack of confidence with some sourness; although he had also been convinced that he’d be turned into paste, her lack of faith is still rude.

As it is, he gives her a shaky thumbs up and collapses to the ground with a drawn-out wheeze.

“That,” Tsunade says flatly, “Was the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever seen in my life. And I was on a team with Jiraiya.”

I’ll take that as a compliment, Obito decides, because his pride has already been wounded far too much lately.

“You should’ve lost,” Sai tells him. His expression makes it hard to deduce if he’s being genuine, if Obito’s being threatened, or if he’s in disbelief. Knowing him, it’s probably a combination of all three.

“Lady Tsunade—”

“I know,” the blonde interrupts, gaze pointed towards the sky as if begging for mercy. Jokes on her, Obito knows full well that the universe would never be so kind. After several moments, she forces out a long breath and meets Obito’s gaze, causing him to let out a very manly squeak. “You. That was…”

“Ingenious?” Obito asks hopefully.

“Absolute bullshit,” she says, rolling her eyes when he deflates. “But a deal’s a deal.”

Karin inhales sharply. “So…”

“Whatever, brat,” Tsunade says, clearly unhappy about this whole ordeal.

“What Lady Tsunade means to say,” Shizune interjects, ignoring the blonde’s glare with practiced ease, “Is that we’re glad to have you, Karin. Though,” she says, not unkindly, “You have to understand with so many people to keep track of, we might not be able to provide the care you’re looking for.”

“No. No, no, no,” Karin rushes. “No. I mean, I’m… This is more than I could ever ask for…”

Tsunade huffs. “Yeah, yeah. So what do you want, anyway?” When Karin stares at her dumbly, she raises a brow. “You lookin’ for someone to teach you? Because if that’s the case, you should know that I don’t do that shit anymore.”

Shizune presses her lips together, but doesn’t intervene. Obito watches from his spot on the ground, absently wondering if he’s been forgotten.

Just then, Shin’s eyes flick his way, and he turns to cover a snort when he sees him army-crawling on the ground. Sourly, Obito internally rants about the lack of respect from kids these days.

“I…” Karin begins nervously. “Well um… That’s fine with me. I just… Anything is better than… well…”

Obito forces out a breath and pushes himself to shaky feet. “The reason Karin can’t go back to her village,” he tells them bluntly. “Is because they treated her like shit.”

“Tobi-san!”

“What? I’m right,” he says, waving her off. “You didn’t deserve any of that. Nobody does.”

Karin opens her mouth, then promptly shrinks in on herself. Obito abruptly remembers that Karin’s a child, and he’s probably just come off as a complete dickwad.

Whoops.

“Deserve any of what?” Shizune asks, frowning.

Obito’s eyes flick between her and Karin before he grimaces. “She’s an Uzumaki with a bloodline centered around healing. I’m sure you can get most of the picture.”

Although it’s barely noticeable, Tsunade actually winces at that.

“It’s fine,” Karin interjects quickly. “It’s not like I’m there anymore.”

Shizune glances at Obito, then at Tsunade. The blonde scowls, which only seems to make Shizune’s eyes even more piercing.

Eventually, Tsunade throws her arms into the air. “Fine. Fine. But you owe me.”

Shizune smirks victoriously. “Of course,” she replies pleasantly.

Karin blinks. “...Huh?”

Me too, Karin, Obito attempts to tell her telepathically, Me too.

Actually, he’s been confused for a long while now. He’s beginning to wonder if it’ll ever go away, or if he’ll just be forever stuck in a perpetual state of bewilderment, wherein everything he does seems to be spurred on by sheer spontaneity because nobody ever decides to enlighten him on what the fuck is going on. His only consolation is that it tends to make room for half-decent laughs.

“Karin,” Shizune says, just sweetly enough that it causes alarm bells to start ringing, “How would you like to learn about the art of poison?”

Obito watches as Karin’s expression shifts from confusion, to surprise, to apprehension, to—

Oh fuck, he thinks, seeing something akin to unholy glee sparking in her eyes.

“Well,” Karin says shyly, “If you think that I could learn.”

I was wrong, he realizes, begging Doug for forgiveness, Sword-trained Karin was not the worst thing that could happen. Even Shin and Sai look like their life is flashing before their eyes. 

…Actually, speaking of Doug.

“Heyyyy Tsunade— ” Obito begins, only to choke when he catches a stuffed dog with his throat.

“Never say that again,” she says flatly. Then, almost sympathetically, she pats him on the shoulder. “And leave while you still can. There’s a reason why Shizune is feared in more than one nation.”

“Oh,” he says, a little lightheaded. “Noted.” Then, after a beat, “WellitwaslovelymeetingyouallbutimgonnagobeforeIbecomealabrat, bye!”

And with that, he disappears into kamui, and decides that he will never, ever piss off Shizune, since he actually prefers his organs in working order.

All’s well that ends well, though. Even if he’s accidentally started Karin on a course that terrifies him on the cellular level.

Take that, Bitchimaru.

Chapter Text

Tsunade has given Obito a Doug. Obito is free.

In other words: as long as everything doesn’t go to hell in a handbasket, Obito has roughly two weeks vacation time until canon wraps its grubby little fingers around his neck once again.

It’s a fantastic feeling for all of ten minutes plus a powernap, when he gets bored with his newly peaceful life and decides to fuck around and find out. 

After a quick check-in on Konoha to make sure that they haven’t embroiled themselves in a whole new type of bullshit, he immediately sets off for adventure.

Granted, he doesn’t know where he’s going, but that’s all part of the fun, in his professional opinion. Which is rather professional, by the way, considering that’s all he’s been doing for months now.

And because of his expertise, he is utterly unsurprised when he happens upon Itachi and Kisame near the outskirts of Fire Country.

Dora never has to deal with any of this nonsense when she’s exploring, he thinks sourly, watching the Akatsuki members from afar. 

They don’t look to be doing anything illegal, unless the fashion police gets involved, but he’s on edge nonetheless. Especially because they’re likely in Fire Country to hunt down Naruto. Or…

Actually, he doesn’t know. The chunin exams are still ongoing, and he’s pretty sure that Team 7 still has a mission or two to handle before getting intercepted by the oddly-cohesive duo. Which means that they’re either over a month early, or they’re here for something else.

Hint: the answer vaguely rhymes with ‘quacking elves.’ 

Obito’s incredible eavesdropping skills allow him to learn that they’re literally there to get dango. Which… isn’t as surprising as it should be, to be honest. He’s pretty sure he remembers something about Itachi having a sweet tooth.

Of course, he can’t simply leave them to their own devices, so he does the only rational thing and decides to make them believe that they’re being haunted.

There is absolutely no way this could go wrong, he decides after a second and a half of contemplation.

He knocks on the window first, to get their attention. It takes several tries, but they eventually glance over, and the moment they do so, he flickers in and out of kamui to steal a stick of dango.

Obito has never once in his life ever seen anyone look so scandalized.

“Are you sure you didn’t eat it already?” Kisame asks, amused.

Itachi stares at him like he’s never met anyone so grossly incompetent in his life.

Obito, of course, snatches another stick and chokes on his own laugh when he sees Itachi do a full-on double take.

“It’s gone,” he says blandly, eyes boring into the plate. He appears to be trying to see if the plate swallowed his dango whole, and if that's the case, decide whether or not to seek retribution.

Kisame raises a brow, but eventually consoles him by buying a new round of dango.

As a man of opportunity, Obito manages to trip up the waitress with a well-placed flicker. While Kisame reaches out to steady her, Itachi mercilessly ignores her in order to ensure that his dango is safe.

Which leaves his last remaining sticks unattended, and ripe for the taking.

When Itachi turns to place the ones he’d caught down, he stares blankly at the plate until Kisame snaps his fingers in front of his face.

“More disappearing dango?” the shark-man asks sympathetically.

Itachi looks absolutely distraught. Obito would feel terrible if he weren’t laughing his ass off.

He does leave them alone after that, though. It’s amusing enough to see Itachi’s head consistently jerk towards his plate with suspicion, every few seconds or so.

Or rather, he leaves them alone until Itachi is on his last stick.

He shoves a plate off the table like a particularly mischievous cat, which draws Kisame’s attention away. Itachi is on a mission, though, and is not deterred.

So Obito, even more determined than his younger cousin, taps him on the shoulder. The moment he glances over, the dango is in his hands, and he’s gone from Itachi and Kisame’s line of sight.

“What are you looking at?” Kisame asks, noticing Itachi’s furrowed brows.

Itachi turns to reply, only to notice that his dango has disappeared. He opens, then closes his mouth.

Obito leaves just as his expression settles into something dangerous. As hilarious as this is, he doesn’t want to be brutally murdered for stealing Itachi’s precious.

Still, he thinks triumphantly, taking a bite of his newly-gained dango, revenge has never tasted quite so sweet.

Chapter Text

As Obito wanders into town, he picks up on the distinct, intertwined scents of dead fish and chronic depression. It’s absolutely terrible, and he wants nothing more than to buy a themed candle to present to Kakashi for his next birthday.

Unfortunately, that’s when life decides to crush him with a second, metaphorical boulder.

He hears one word, and he feels his soul immediately attempt to eject itself from his body. Worse still, he doesn’t even think he can make an excuse for this one, aside from his general inability to remember anything that isn’t horribly embarrassing or entirely useless.

“Oh,” he lets out, coming to a full stop as his few brain cells ping pong off of one another. “Oh no.”

Oh no, indeed, because he’d completely forgotten about Kirigakure. As in, the place where its jinchuuriki - its Hokage - is meant to be a lesser member of the puppet inception, stuck firmly in some place below Pein.

This is embarrassing, he thinks plainly, and promptly flickers straight into the Mizukage’s office. Because he’s not entirely incompetent, he melts into the shadows and eyes Yagura from where he stands.

Upon seeing that his eyes are partially glazed over, he closes his own for a long, pained second. He doesn’t know why Yagura's still a glorified zombie, and unless he wants to have an aneurysm, he doesn’t think he wants to. 

Withholding a long-suffering breath, Obito reaches into Sharingan bullshittery land and, after a few moments of rifling around, manages to find the connection. He pauses for all of five seconds, considering the consequences, then prods at the ‘thread’.

He shudders. It feels like someone deeply misunderstood the fermentation process of fruit and instead created a string of moldy jello.

Still, his poking doesn’t seem to cause any adverse effects, so after a moment, he snaps it in half like a stale cracker and steps back to observe.

Yagura pauses, then scrunches his face up. Slowly, he lowers his gaze and stares at his desk with the blankest expression Obito has ever seen.

“Fuck,” Yagura says succinctly, and it takes everything Obito has not to choke out a hysteria-tinged laugh.

Fuck indeed, Mizukage-sama. Fuck indeed.

“I’ve done a thing.”

The entire camp startles at Obito’s sudden presence, though he keeps his partially-distressed gaze pointed towards Zabuza and Haku.

“What the actual fuck,” Zabuza says, dipping so far into incredulity that it circles back around to being flat.

“Tobi-san?” Haku asks, “What are you doing here?”

“I’ve done a thing,” Obito repeats, causing Zabuza’s eye to twitch.

“Zabuza, Haku,” a red-headed woman says, looking between the two, “You know this man?”

“Unfortunately,” Zabuza mutters at the same time as Haku replies in the affirmative. Politely, because he’s not an asshole like someone he knows.

“I see,” Mei Terumi says, turning her gaze onto Obito. “You say you’ve done something. What is that?”

Obito opens, then closes his mouth. “...A thing,” he says weakly, then winces when Zabuza’s hand twitches towards his sword. “Um. Okay, you know Yagura? Like, yay-high and with inverted pinkeye?”

There’s a pause.

“You didn’t.”

Obito stares at Zabuza. “I am so incredibly certain that you’re so many levels of wrong, but I do appreciate your confidence in me.”

Zabuza’s expression sours, while Mei eyes him with equal parts suspicion and curiosity.

“The Mizukage,” she says. “You did something to him?”

“...Did you know,” Obito continues slowly, “That, hypothetically, if one were to drop a Tailed Beast into an equally-as-hypothetical genjutsu… Hypothetically, the jinchuuriki would also be affected as well.”

“This doesn’t seem very hypothetical, Tobi-san,” Haku says, looking a little concerned.

“And hypothetically,” he bulldozes on, “This genjutsu could, say… Control their actions. Or put them in a state where they were unable to ignore certain commands.” He pauses. “Hypothetically.”

Zabuza looks like he’s considering impaling himself with his own sword. Obito always knew he was a drama queen at heart.

“What are you saying?” a man with an eyepatch asks, eyes narrowed.

Obito squints. “Hypothetically, someone could also break them out of said genjutsu.”

Haku frowns. “And you did that, Tobi-san?”

“...Hypothetically.”

“Hypothetically,” Mei echoes flatly. “And hypothetically, would the jinchuuriki return back to normal after being released from this genjutsu?”

Obito directs his gaze towards a particularly interesting rock on the ground.

“Fuck me,” Zabuza mutters, then directs a glare at Obito before he can even open his mouth.

Ao crosses his arms. “And what? We’re just meant to trust you?”

“Hypothetically,” Obito tells him wisely after several moments of consideration. He flickers away just in time to avoid being skewered à la shish kabob. “Do with that information as you will!” he calls out from atop his new perch. “Anyway, we on for game night, Zabuza, Haku? I’m all for a good, clean game of Uno!” He pauses. “...Granted, I might have to invent it first, but you get the gist.”

This time, he leaves just when he goes crosseyed staring at a giant fucking sword.

“Rude,” he mutters, watching the proceedings from within kamui. He’s sure they’ll figure things out, eventually.

…Probably.

(Hypothetically.)

Chapter Text

“I sense a disturbance in the force.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m in two places at once. But, you know. Not in a ninja-way. More like… a soul-doubling way.”

“Mhm.”

“This world is entirely fictional, you know. The base for a mere story, all centered around a child that you don’t even know the name of. But we’re in unexplored territory, now, dancing to the whims of an author who cares not about us, but about the plot our predetermined actions may weave. All for an audience of readers, whose level of entertainment our very existence hinges upon.”

“Ah.”

“God’s name is Kishimoto and he has a thing for feet.”

“I see.”

Obito squints at the bounty officer. “Are you even listening?”

She raises her gaze, slowly and deliberately. “Hmm.”

“Fine then,” he decides, “I won’t tell you about the truths of the world, or my reincarnation twin. Bet he’s off doing cool things, like wizardry or something. Which is way better than what you’re doing here, I assure you.”

“Of course.”

Obito sours. “Can I just have my reward?”

“All yours,” she says, pushing an envelope across the counter. Obito’s sure there’s some sort of metaphor or moral to be found here, but he can’t be bothered to figure out what it is.

The moment he leaves the building, he slips into kamui and drops off his prize.

“People, amirite?” he asks with a sigh.

Doug stares at him. Obito’s pretty sure he agrees. Or maybe he’s just losing it, bored as he is.

He has nothing to do, really. No one to bother, and no mystical quests to go on. Or rather, he can’t, because he doesn’t want to entangle himself in some bullshit and be forced to miss the final round of the chunin exams.

He doubts that his presence will change all that much, but it’s better safe than sorry, since he already fucked up Orochimaru’s plans with the whole cursed hickey thing. Plus, he hasn’t been exposed to many jutsu, even after months of being here, and he’s curious to see them from an outside perspective.

Especially the chidori. While he disagrees with its classification as an ‘assassination jutsu’ - because there is no subtlety to be found in a makeshift lightsaber that literally chirps, and the only reason it even works as one is because everyone around is too dead to tattle - he will admit that it’s pretty goddamn cool, just a few notches below kamui. 

Who knows - maybe he can even pick a few things up, too. He does have magic red bullshit eyes, after all, and he hasn’t been able to use them for their intended purpose as of yet. 

…Actually, it’s kind of embarrassing that there are two Uchihas alive, and it’s a Hatake that’s known for copying a thousand jutsus with their Sharingan. Granted, Obito isn’t known at all outside of a few, tight circles, but it’s a travesty nonetheless.

His only consolation is, ‘At least it isn’t Danzou.’ Who he really does need to deal with at some point.

For now, though, he thinks he’ll just continue making him think that he’s going bonkers. Maybe he’ll even ask Shin and Sai for suggestions. Doug knows they deserve to get some sort of revenge on the guy.

Speaking of the sentient bag of human waste, he really does need to get on the whole ‘planning for the future’ thing. Thus far, he’s mostly just run in, eyes blazing and hoping for the best. Granted, it hasn’t entirely failed him yet, but he doesn’t like the small possibility of being the victim of an unfortunate retcon, or getting jazz-handed - which is really all hand signs are, and no, he will not be taking constructive criticism - to death because he’s not being careful.

He’s pretty sure he has the power of Doug and anime on his side, though he’s less sure about having kept the ‘major antagonist’ plot armor. He kind of dropped the role ages ago, after all.

Hopefully the universe needs glasses or something. ‘Bloodthirsty villain’ and ‘obnoxious prankster’ could probably be confused for brothers, if you squint. Or cousins. Or related at all.

Obito’s so good at this positivity thing. Go, him.

Point is, though, nobody knows what the fuck he’s doing at any given time, and that includes him. Great for laughs, terrible for survival.

Which… means that he should probably start taking harder bounties, or something. Maybe beg ask for help with training. He’s pretty sure that Haku would be nice enough to take him up on the offer.

Because the reality is, his ninja-y skills are very rusty. Even kamui, for all it’s the only reason hasn’t found himself dead - or worse, expelled - yet, isn’t as helpful as it could be when one is a dumbass. It’s just slow enough that any elite ninja worth their salt could get to him before he could activate it, and he’s only managed to make a part of his body, rather than the whole thing, impermeable once since his untimely arrival.

So. Planning, and training. The latter more than the former. 

Maybe he can get a training montage or something. That’d be fun.

…

Yeah, probably not. But a guy can dream as long as it’s unrelated to massive red moons, can’t he?

Chapter Text

“Doug,” Obito determines, eyeing the hostile expressions on either side of him, “I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore.”

“What,” Tobirama says, “The fuck.”

Hashirama places his hand on his chest like a scandalized housewife, and Madara appears to be buffering. 

Not-Sasuke glances between Obito and Tobirama. He attempts a sneer, but looks far too confused to make it work. “What the hell is going on here?”

“That,” Tobirama says plainly, narrowing his eyes at Obito, “Is a good question.”

“Listen,” Obito replies weakly. After a pause, it becomes clear that the man actually does intend to hear him out. He opens, then closes his mouth, trying not to think of the hiraishin kunai that’s currently weighing down his pocket. “...I’ve got nothing.”

Tobirama suddenly looks at him like it’s taking every bit of self-control he has not to throttle him. Obito appreciates it. While he does find himself in numerous, frankly absurd situations, he isn’t really into the whole dying thing. Really, he’s just a victim of circumstance.

“Tobi…” Hashirama says slowly, “Isn’t this—”

“Do not.”

Hashirama actually pauses, glancing between Obito and Madara. “Isn’t this your friend?” he asks with an obvious, exaggerated wink. Tobirama closes his eyes for a long, pained second. Abruptly, Obito is reminded of the imagery of a single father, torn between exasperation and the urge to dropkick his children.

Both of his children in this metaphor are older than him, which really only serves to make the situation that much more ridiculous. Also, although this entire line of thinking is a construct of Obito’s own mind, he can’t help but feel offended. Really, he’s not a child.

…Or no one can prove it in court, anyway.

“It does seem,” Obito eventually muses, “Like I have a thing for silver-haired men and/or people with colored facial markings.”

“...What?”

“What?”

Tobirama stares. Obito stares back. After a pause, he leans forwards and claps in his opponent’s face, forcing him to reel back and blink. He is a man of competition, not of honor.

Also, Tobirama’s disgruntled face is hilarious. He looks like a miffed kitten.

“You’re an Uchiha,” Izuna eventually realizes, narrowing his eyes. “But I’ve never seen you before.” His eyes flick towards his brother for confirmation, and the man shakes his head sharply. Suddenly, the Uchiha look rather twitchy.

Tobirama opens his mouth to speak, but Obito beats him to the punch. “I’m hurt. Really, I am,” he says, ignoring the reddish eyes boring into the side of his head. “After we’ve all been through together, Maddie. And to think, I’d been planning to make us friendship bracelets.”

Madara pauses.

“Does Madara the hedgehog mean nothing to you?” he asks sorrowfully. “Our chats in your ‘man cave’?”

“What,” Madara says, while Izuna mouths a bewildered, “Man cave.”

Obito sniffs. “No, no. I can’t even bear to look at you. It hurts far too much.” He swoons. “Hold me, Tobes.”

Tobirama drops him without hesitation, lips pressed into a flat line. “Never call me that again.”

Obito stares up at the sky, back pressed against the dirt. “Everyone is so mean to me all the time…”

“I know, right?” Hashirama agrees mournfully, then yelps something about bullies when his brother elbows him in the side.

“You’d never believe this was the man who named a cookie brand after my crackpot ramblings,” Obito muses. “But no, same guy.”

“Is this even a battle anymore?” a nearby Uchiha mutters.

“It is,” Obito says. “Against me, and my feelings. Because everyone here is emotionally constipated, and/or incapable of expressing their feelings outside of fisticuffs, because they’re all superpowered toddlers.” Tobirama crosses his arms, looking severely unimpressed. “I said what I said.”

Izuna scoffs. “And what? You expect us to just play nice? Sing kumbaya, after the Senju,” he intones, voice dripping with disdain, “Slaughtered thousands of our brethren?”

“Kumbaya is a saying here?” Obito mutters, half-bewildered, then laughs nervously when Izuna’s glare increases tenfold. “I mean, uh— well, I’m sure you can work out your differences in a healthier way. Or… one that’s less physically violent, at least?”

“And how would you suggest we do that?” Hashirama asks, genuinely curious. He’s like an oversized puppy.

Obito pauses. “Have you ever heard,” he asks slowly, “Of Monopoly?”

“I will end you,” Izuna hisses, thrusting a finger in Tobirama’s face. The latter appears placid, though his eyes reflect some measure of smugness.

“Perhaps,” he says simply. “Perhaps not.”

Izuna actually growls, then violently throws the dice to the board. Suddenly he freezes, horrified, when he sees the path his piece will take.

“Well, Uchiha?” Tobirama says, not even bothering to hide his smirk anymore.

“No,” Izuna whispers, cradling a silver cat between his fingers. “No, you can’t.”

“Izuna, move your piece.”

Izuna pulls away from the board, meeting his brother’s gaze with betrayal shining in his eyes. “He’s just a boy,” he says. “Barely of age.”

“Izuna. It’s a game piece,” Madara reminds him at the same time as Hashirama chokes on a sob.

“Just a boy,” he hiccups, turning towards his brother. “Tobi…”

“This is how the game is played, anija,” he replies ruthlessly. Madara pulls the silver cat from Izuna’s limp fingers and slides it to Boardwalk.

“$2000 to Tobirama,” Obito informs Izuna solemnly. He chokes, and his brother is forced to count out his bills for him.

“No…” he whispers once again. “No…”

“You shouldn’t have rushed,” Tobirama says simply, taking his prize from Madara’s grasp.

“He was so young!” Hashirama wails once again, slamming his hand against the board. Several pieces leap a few inches into the air, and Madara’s piece skitters to the side.

“Careful!” the man hisses, resetting his piece.

“What’s the point,” Izuna says mournfully, face pressed into the table. “The dog already has half the properties.”

Madara looks disturbed, like he’s never seen Izuna in such a state before. He probably hasn’t. Monopoly tends to bring out people’s hidden depths, after all.

“And he’ll earn even more when you go bankrupt,” Hashirama says with a sigh.

Izuna pauses. Slowly, he raises his head, a fire in his eyes. “I will not lose, Senju.”

Tobirama looks between his silver dog and Izuna, raising a brow. Fair, since Izuna has said the same thing at least a dozen times since they started playing.

“Very well then,” Tobirama replies, surprisingly amiable. Obito’s pretty sure he just wants to wring every last drop of joy from his soul.

As Obito leans back to watch the Clan Heads and their brothers continue playing, pausing to bicker violently every now and then, he smirks to himself.

Yes, he thinks smugly while Madara holds Izuna in a headlock, preventing him from slashing wildly at Tobirama’s eyes, This was a great idea.

Chapter Text

“Something’s coming,” the forest murmurs.

Obito takes pause, raising a hand to his ear. “What the fuck,” he mutters, even as his gaze is drawn towards rustling leaves.

“Wrong,” the apparently-sentient woodlands insist. “Twisted.” Not a moment later, he catches sight of a familiar, beige blur darting across sturdy branches. The wood beneath him seems to bristle in response.

“I,” Obito decides, eyeing his Hashiramafied arm suspiciously, “Am deeply concerned.”

Unfortunately, he doesn’t have much time to reflect on his newly-gained tree-whispering powers, because Orochimaru is headed straight towards Sasuke and Kakashi, and at the rate he’s going, he’ll make it there within mere minutes.

Obito pauses for all of a moment before pulling his mask from kamui, expression souring. He directs a middle finger to no one in particular, then mentally prepares himself to intercept the man who refuses to take a page out of the toad summons’ book and finally croak.

This was supposed to be an off day. A quick check-in, and then he’d be gone. But nooo, Snakeface McGee just had to show up and ruin his plans.

(Granted, he didn’t actually have any particularly concrete ones, but it’s the principle of the thing.)

Admittedly, though, he’s not entirely surprised. If Orochimaru had just returned home after one failed attempt, tail between his legs, Obito would’ve eventually imploded from the buildup of paranoia.

The guy needed Sasuke for his magic eyeballs, and not even (temporary) death had stopped him in canon. Orochimaru’s tenacity is admirable, Obito will give him that. His propensity for chasing after traumatized little boys (regardless of his reasons), less so.

Obito lands, then, cloak flapping behind him dramatically.

“I am the Lorax,” he intones, back to the sun, “And I speak for the trees.”

Orochimaru meets his gaze with narrowed eyes, having come to a stop. “You again.”

Obito had known that his reference wouldn’t be understood, but he manages to be disappointed nonetheless. “You’ve never seen a concerning amount of people thirsting after the Onceler and it shows.”

“I assumed you had a modicum of self-preservation when I’d been told of your escape,” the man says disdainfully, entirely ignoring both of his previous statements. “Clearly, I’d expected too much of an ex-Konoha nin.”

“You know what they say about assumptions,” Obito quips back before realizing, no, he probably doesn’t. All of his comments were falling short today, and it’s far more embarrassing than it should be. 

Also: ex-Konoha nin?

“Your lack of presence in the records betrays you,” Orochimaru tells him, almost looking bored. “And you’re certainly not one of Danzou’s men.”

Obito barely has a moment to feel vaguely insulted before, a moment later, he gets the distinct feeling that he’s just been placed under the man’s metaphorical microscope.

“Not that you’d do well amongst his ranks, mind,” Orochimaru continues in a low murmur that has Obito’s hair standing on end. “He’d ruin you. Make a mockery of that jutsu of yours…” He purses his lips, considering. “I will admit that he’s not entirely inept. But his chosen methods do leave much to be desired.”

Orochimaru’s closer now, and his golden eyes seem to glow. 

“I wonder if you truly understand the gift you have,” he murmurs, looking almost hungry. “The power that lies at your very fingertips.”

Obito swallows back a hysteria-tinged laugh as the forest grows increasingly agitated. “Is this some sort of recruitment speech?”

Orochimaru’s lips quirk upwards. “You’re not who I came for,” he admits, sickly-sweet, “But it’s clear that living on the run is doing you no favors. As of now, you barely even qualify as an amateur. That could always change.”

This is, perhaps, the most extreme whiplash he’s ever experienced. Zero out of ten, do not recommend.

Oh, but the man does have a point. He’ll admit that much, albeit begrudgingly.

Obito needs training. Needs to be strong. If he keeps gallivanting around the Elemental Nations, not a care in the world—

Eventually, he’ll stumble. One wrong step is all it will take for him to fall.

Slowly, deliberately, he forces out a breath. “I can see why others fear you,” he murmurs, leaning forwards. “You do have such a way with words.”

Orochimaru smirks like the cat who’s caught the canary. “Oh?”

“Yeah,” he breathes, meeting the man’s gaze as his lips curl into a grin of his own. “If you improved your pickup lines, I have no doubt that you’d do wonders on Tinder, even with the whole Edward Cullen thing going on. ‘You’re not who I came for’ doesn’t exactly make a guy feel special, see?”

Orochimaru’s expression shifts near-instantaneously. Obito promptly slams his head forwards, sending them both stumbling backwards.

Note to self, he thinks, a little lightheaded, Leave headbutting to the Kamados.

“I should’ve known,” Orochimaru sneers, regaining his balance with an annoying amount of grace. Also, he almost sounds like he’s hissing, which really adds to his snake-like vibe. “This village has always been plagued by the presence of fools.”

“My life thus far has just been A Series of Very Foolish Events,” Obito muses, then pauses, a crease between his brows. “Did you hear the capital letters too, or do I have more screws loose than I thought?”

Instead of verbally responding, Orochimaru stares at him for all of a moment before introducing his foot to Obito’s stomach. As it turns out, they aren’t huge fans of one another.

“Ow,” he wheezes, seeing stars.

“It seems nature favors you,” Orochimaru notes almost begrudgingly, eyes narrowed. Only then does Obito realize that he’s been caught by a net of twisting branches.

“Get bitched on, nerd,” Obito replies, displaying a remarkable lack of self-preservation skills. Also, he may have a concussion.

Orochimaru actually rolls his eyes at that, in a way that’s eerily reminiscent of a highschool mean girl.

“Do you have a Burn Book?” he wonders aloud, faintly disturbed.

The man doesn’t even blink before sending roaring winds hurtling his way. Obito freezes for all of a moment before wrestling himself away from the formerly-protective branches. Somehow, he manages to hit the ground right before his head gets taken off.

Unfortunately, he doesn’t come out entirely unscathed. With precise gashes now sunken into his skin, Obito gets a major sense of deja vu.

And he doesn’t have much time to collect himself, either. The next thing he knows, he’s throwing himself out of the way of another array of near-invisible slashes. He slams his palm into the dirt a moment later, but Orochimaru easily evades the giant tree that appears in his wake.

Ah, he thinks succinctly, watching as the golden-eyed man moves to stand before him, Fuck.

“I’m almost ashamed to have ever believed in your arrogance,” Orochimaru says plainly, dissecting Obito with his gaze. His voice is quiet - cutting. “When all you’ve ever been is a wild animal backed into a corner. Rabid,” he murmurs, “And utterly helpless.”

Despite himself, Obito shivers. Still, he forces his lips to curl into a teasing grin. “You really know how to butter a guy up, don’t you?”

Orochimaru’s expression remains unchanged. “It’ll be a shame to see the mokuton die out once again,” he says without a hint of genuine sorrow. Then, almost clinically, “But with a creature like you, I suppose the only choice had ever been euthanization.”

His hand glows, acidic green. It lowers, and—

The forest writhes.

Chapter Text

“Oh,” Obito breathes, vision swimming. “Oh fuck.”

He swallows back a hysterical laugh, fingertips pressed to bubbling crimson. A cloud of dust rises in the distance, off where Orochimaru had been flung away by a particularly-vengeful tree branch. It might’ve been hilarious, had he not been uncomfortably close to passing out.

“The Lorax thing was a joke,” he says to no one in particular. A flower blooms before him, wrapped around the aforementioned branch and somehow perfectly managing to convey sheepishness.

Obito waves it off, a touch exasperated. “It’s fine. I gave up on normalcy a long time ago.”

Also, he’s pretty sure at least half of his ribs are broken. Which is not very cool, if he says so himself.

(It hurts to breathe, and he’d been stabbed only moments prior. With this in mind, he slides ‘Make time for training’ to the top of his mental to-do-list. Then he underlines it three times, regardless of how effective that is within his own mind, just to drive the point home.

Of course, that's assuming that he actually makes it out of this alive. Which he desperately hopes is the case, because he thinks he might be cringing into the afterlife if this - in a fight with a creep that he's already escaped before, and who's probably feeling pretty rough without a body to snatch as of late - is how he croaks.)

“Is he gone?” Obito eventually asks, voice tinged with wary hope.

The flower wilts, and so does he.

“Lovely,” he mutters. “Help me up, would you?” 

A pause, and he finds himself being suddenly jerked upwards.

“oH FUCK WAIT—” he blurts out when he feels a white-hot flash of pain, causing the branch to freeze. He takes a deep, rattling breath. “Gently,” he stresses, feeling a bit like a crippled old man. Or maybe, like, a bruised apple or something. “Please.”

The branch curls around him apologetically, then slowly lifts him to his feet. Obito doesn’t have the heart to tell it to hurry.

…Which is a very weird thing to take into consideration when dealing with a literal tree, but whatever.

Once he has two feet on the ground, he exhales once again and absently pats the branch. “Thanks,” he mutters, trying not to think too hard about how it preens.

The branch suddenly jerks to the side, dipping downwards. If it were a cat, Obito gets the feeling that its ears would be pressed against his head. The fact that he can hear phantom hissing probably speaks volumes of his mental state.

Orochimaru steps out of the brush, golden eyes glittering with a mixture of malice and a frankly-concerning amount of interest.

“Well,” he says, all slimy-like. “I suppose Sensei was telling the truth, when he claimed that the mokuton was alive.”

“No it’s not,” Obito tells him with a blank expression, hand hovering over his still-bleeding wound. The branch nods solemnly.

Orochimaru eyes the branch before humming. “Nonetheless… I cannot afford to let you live, so long as you have the power to escape.” A pause. “Though you - or rather, your abilities - are oh-so valuable…”

“That’s so creepy, dude.”

A pause. Between one blink and the next, Obito’s vision is overtaken by Orochimaru’s sandal.

He jerks backwards, paling slightly when the branch shatters right where his head had been just a moment prior.

“...Branchy,” he mourns, shooting Orochimaru the stink-eye. “Look at how you massacred my boy.”

Orochimaru simply raises a brow, lowering his foot. “I can’t tell if you’re simply idiotic, or if your priorities are unalterably skewed.”

“I think,” Obito says flatly, “You are the last person who should be saying that. Also, the answer you’re looking for is ‘Both,’ but I’m sure you knew that already.”

Another branch comes to his rescue before his head is turned into a fleshy soccer ball (or football, for you non-American readers), though it’s a close call. 

“Well then,” he breathes, eyes flicking towards the new branch. When he swipes his hand, it dives downwards, wrapping around Orochimaru’s ankle.

The man presses his lips together, then jerks his leg free with relative ease. Obito steps backwards, hand twitching to his side. 

Several dozen wooden whips unearth themselves from the ground, trapping Orochimaru in place. He’s utterly unsurprised, though feels no less exhausted, when it lasts for all of ten seconds before they’re reduced to nothing but splinters.

Obito can only brace himself as the man’s leg swings through the air. Just a moment later, numerous trees earn themselves Obito-shaped holes, and their muse, unfortunately, finds himself with his back pressed against the dirt and gasping for breath.

Major deja vu, he thinks absently, attempting to blink away the black spots in his vision. Worryingly, it does not seem to work.

A moment later, he chokes when Orochimaru grabs him by the collar, hauling him into the air. “You’re hopeless, yourself,” he murmurs, reaching outwards. A branch rises to wrap around his wrist, but he flicks it away with nary a thought.

Obito attempts to jerk backwards, but only manages to bash his head against the tree behind him. As a low, pained hiss escapes his throat, Orochimaru’s fingers wrap around his mask.

The man lifts it from his face, almost gentle in the action. But once it’s in his hand, he shatters it without a second thought. Barely a moment passes before he grabs Obito’s unmarred jaw, forcibly turning his head until their gazes meet.

Golden eyes sweep over him, unabashedly clinical. Obito swallows, feeling as if an invisible weight has been placed upon his chest.

How intimate, he thinks suddenly, a hysterical laugh ringing throughout his mind. Except Orochimaru’s narrowed gaze snaps back onto his, and his lips curl into something like a sneer. Either he’s learned how to read minds, or Obito’s far worse off than he’d initially thought.

“You’re speaking aloud,” Orochimaru informs him dryly. Obito presses his lips together, then squints at him in the hopes that he’ll be devoured by magical eye-lasers. 

Unfortunately, his master plan fails before it can even begin. Orochimaru remains thoroughly un-vaporized, and all Obito gets from the attempt is a watering eyeball.

“...An Uchiha,” Orochimaru says, disturbingly intense and halfway to incredulous. His words slosh around in Obito’s fuzzed-up brain for several moments before something finally clicks.

His red-tinted vision flickers out within an instant. He knows, though, that it’s too late. Orochimaru has already seen the Sharingan. Combined with his appearance, there’s no other conclusion to be made.

“Well then,” the man murmurs, brushing a pale finger beneath Obito’s eye. It comes away from his skin, glistening. “Isn’t this curious ?”

Ah, Obito thinks wearily, sounding distant even within his own mind. That’s not good.

Chapter Text

Mirror. Hand prodding at his face. Fungi. Random child. What has he done to deserve this? Exist, apparently.

Obito exhales until his face turns as red as his two perfectly good eyes aren’t. “Well then,” he says finally. “Frick.”

He helps two cats across the street and frees three grandmothers, plus one old man, from their arborous prisons. Or something along those lines.

He’s late. Very late. The absolute latest.

Gold, Silver, Bronze. What does that make him? Platinum? He’s not even gray. Unless it means morally. He’s supposed to have some arc here. But he’s not really into convoluted plans, much less from too-old men and mother-obsessed alien shrubs, thankyouverymuch.

He tells them that he got lost on the Road of Life. Gold narrowly saves his ankles from getting gnawed on by a feral dog, who bears a striking resemblance to Silver. 

Or maybe it is him. He wouldn’t know. He’s freaking the fuck out. He has no time to pay attention to minor details. Literally.

As in, Silver is a minor. They all are, if you don’t count Gold. But Silver specifically is like, really small. Surprisingly so. Which.

Who the fuck let this tiny, traumatized child be a jounin? He wouldn’t have, if he were Hokage. And he could be, if he really wanted to. And why shouldn’t he be? It would help him fix so many problems if he got his hands on that ridiculous-looking hat.

Damn. He’s a genius.

Except. Except, except.

There’s tons of paperwork to do if you’re Hokage. Ew.

Becoming Hokage has been relegated to Plan ‘F,’ which, of course, stands for Plan ‘Fuck I Hope Not.’ Gold is gonna be the Hokage anyway, so he’ll (probably) have the ear of the Fourth, as long as they both survive.

Which! Would probably be easier if he stopped dissociating at random intervals. Like. He’s already out of the village. No present to tiny Silver, but maybe he’ll give him an eyeball later if he’s feeling generous.

But for now. Stop, drop, and roll.

Nope, Bronze is looking at him all weird. And— yeah, she’s kidnapped. Lovely. He loves it here, he really does.

Silver tells him not to go after her. He’s all for self-preservation, honestly, but his body decides that this is his main character moment. So instead, he turns around and starts shouting at Silver in the middle of the woods.

Clearly, Silver doesn’t know that this is his redemption arc, and he has no choice but to follow his madness.

Instead of informing him of this, he decks Silver in the face like any sane human being would. He doesn’t know what he’s meant to say at all. He’s not the same person as he was just last night.

But by now, it’s time for Plan B. As in, Plan ‘Bullshit and Hope for the Best.’

“A shinobi needs tools suitable to the mission at hand. Emotion is just a useless burden,” Silver - Kakashi - tells him.

“What,” Obito says, “The fuck.”

Kakashi looks at him like he’s just swallowed a leaf whole.

“No,” he says next, probably veering way off script. “No, that’s— that’s. No.”

“That’s the truth,” Kakashi simply says. Tired, resigned. As if he isn’t like, twelve or something.

He should probably be worried about the voice in his head that suggests arson as a viable solution, or at least by the fact that he considers it. Instead, he shelves those thoughts for later, when there’s an actual Responsible Adult around to go through a few pros and cons on that front.

“Your dad was the White Fang, yeah?” Obito says. “Well. Guys like that? I think they’re the real heroes.”

Kakashi’s bones, he notes, are absolutely rattled.

“I mean, Konoha talks about how important teamwork is. People literally call us treehuggers.” Probably. That might be a fanon thing. Who cares? Not him. He’s proving a point, damn it. “And you know what? They’re right. Because we chain ourselves to those trees and we don’t back down no matter what.”

Kakashi blinks at him, brows furrowed. Obito gets the distinct feeling that he’s lost him. He resists the urge to sigh, then decides to bring out the big… kunai…?

…Whatever.

“In a ninja’s world, those who break the rules and fail to follow orders are less than scum. But those who abandon their comrades? Those who don’t care for and support their fellows? They’re even lower than that!”

He turns around, taking one step and another. Kakashi doesn’t follow, even though he's made the ultimate protagonist speech.

Obito exhales, and rushes into danger like a total dumbass. He is not at all surprised when he nearly manages to get himself killed near-instantly. But he’s probably far too pleased when Kakashi flies in front of him, in some goofy-ass pose that looks like it should be snapping his spine in two.

Nailed it, he decides, and wonders if the orange accents on his clothes are what fuel his protagonist powers.

“Kakashi!” he says, probably far too gleefully, if the mildly-bewildered look his teammate sends him is any indication.

“Hmph,” he lets out, turning. “I can't leave this up to a crybaby ninja like you, can I?”

Aw, shucks. He does care.

Enough that he goes to defend Obito’s honor once again, by attempting to take a kunai to the face.

“I’m not some princess, Bakashi!” he reminds him with a grin, knocking away the blade that aims for Kakashi’s eye, “Even if I look like one!”

“Idiot,” Kakashi says. His tone is flat, though carries no real heat. Obito counts this as a win in his book.

Unfortunately, he’s forced to murder knockoff John Cena not a moment later, which kinda sucks. He’ll probably need some therapy for that later, especially since he’s pretty sure he’s just unlocked the Uchiha Clan’s extraordinary power of Weaponized Trauma.

“Obito… Your eyes.”

“Yeah,” Obito agrees, trying not to sound as miserable as he feels. He doesn’t think he quite succeeds.

But hey! They’ve found the Cave of Doom, so that’s fun!

What is less fun is that Rin’s drunk on a genjutsu, but. Semantics.

Fwish, fwoom, bwom. Obito decides that knife fights aren’t as cool as they seem, especially when you’re on the same side as the pointy end.

(Another several dead guys. His therapy bills are gonna be so high.)

“Kakashi… Obito…” Rin croaks.

“Random rock man,” Obito says sourly, causing her to frown. Kakashi, meanwhile, whips around and sends a kunai sailing through the air.

Surprise, surprise, the target catches it with relative ease.

“Hmph... That was a pretty good combo... But you're still kids in the end. Remember, you're standing in the palm of your enemy now.”

“You must have some big fucking hands,” Obito tells him. Everyone in the cave looks at him like he’s lost his mind. He’s pretty sure he has.

They rush towards the exit. A boulder falls. Obito is the one who’s shoved out of the way.

Would Madara even take a Hatake? he wonders, and promptly decides that he doesn’t want to find out.

The rock descends. Both Obito and Rin lurch forwards. They both reach him at once, and—

Obito breaks into hysterical laughter. Rin and Kakashi, both alive and whole, share wide-eyed looks before they start snickering too. 

“Oh,” he whispers, tears gathering in his eyes even as he chokes on sporadic giggles. “Oh fuck.” 

Rin slumps against the fallen boulder, while Kakashi stares up at the sky, forcing out a long breath.

“We should probably go,” he mutters.

“Mm,” Obito lets out, not moving at all. “Do you want my eyeball?”

“What,” Kakashi says.

“What is for horses,” he informs him.

Rin’s brows knit together. “It’s… really not.”

“Oh,” he says. “Okay. We’ll put a raincheck on the eyeball thing then, I guess.”

He doesn’t hear what his teammates have to say after that, because he’s too busy making his apparent Kakashi cosplay as accurate as can be.

(That is to say, he passes out right before another group of shinobi descend upon them. They all make it out alive, but man, is that embarrassing.)

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

Kakashi’s been having a particularly unpleasant time with Obito’s eye, as of late. 

And he dismisses it, at first. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d dealt with odd twinges or double vision, and while the first few occasions had been particularly memorable - especially the instance where Tenzou had been the first to notice, and had convinced himself that the Sharingan was capable of spontaneous combustion - even wiping beads of blood from his tear ducts became rather routine.

That being said, it’s never quite burned before. He likens it to severe sleep deprivation, except ten times worse and he’s also dunking his head into a vat of lava. 

Of course, the moment he raises his hitai-ate to take note of Sasuke’s form, he experiences a nasty bout of vertigo that has him blinking away the sudden imagery of fluttering leaves. And… a nodding branch, for some reason.

“Maa…” he lets out slowly. “Why don’t we pause here, hm?”

Sasuke narrows his eyes, then slowly rises from his crouch. “Why?”

Because it’s nothing less than a miracle that I’m still standing, at the moment, Kakashi does not say. Instead, he offers his student an eye-smile and pats him twice on the head.

“Breaks are important,” Kakashi tells him, pleasant as can be. He’s not lying, though he’s certain that just about anyone he knows would call him a raging hypocrite. Or, in Tenzou’s case, put on that exasperated look he only ever seems to use in Kakashi’s presence.

Sasuke stares at him, blatantly disgruntled. But instead of radiating irritation or calling him out on his laziness like Kakashi expects him to do, he forces a short, “Fine.”

So. Either he’s suddenly developed a vested interest in his own wellbeing, or Kakashi looks even worse than he thought. And even if he hadn’t known that the former option is downright impossible, the way Sasuke is eyeing him like he’s about to keel over is enough to clue him in on his current state.

Unfortunately, Kakashi doesn’t have the time to say another word, much less sit down, because life is cruel and hates him in particular. “Ah,” he lets out, watching as half a dozen trees fall in the distance. “Wonderful.”

While something like this might not normally be much of a concern - especially during the chunin exams, where the competition generally disregards such ridiculous concepts as ‘moderation’ and ‘concern for their health and safety’ - he and Sasuke are in the middle of bumfuck nowhere, a good hour or two away from the village even at top speed. Not far enough to completely distance themselves from the Shodaime’s forest, but certainly far enough that no one should be lurking anywhere nearby.

Suddenly, he remembers Naruto’s enthusiastic retelling of their experience in the Forest of Death, and finds himself trying (and failing) to ward off a budding headache.

“Head back to the village.”

Sasuke’s head jerks towards him. “What?”

Kakashi removes a glove, grimacing beneath his mask. “If I’m right, Orochimaru is in that forest,” he says plainly, startling Sasuke when Bisuke and Bull both appear in a puff of smoke. “You’ll need to hurry back, and inform the Hokage.”

“That—” Sasuke lets out, scowling. “And what if he’s brought someone with him?”

“They’ll protect you,” he says, gesturing towards his ninken, who both offer affirmative barks. “And if worse comes to worst, I’m sure you can handle throwing off a lackey or two. Him? Not so much.” When the boy makes to protest further, he resists the urge to sigh. “You’re strong, Sasuke, I’ll give you that. But even the Hokage would be hard-pressed to finish off a Sannin.”

Which. He probably shouldn’t say, but it has the intended effect of surprising the boy, so whatever.

“...And what about you?”

“I’ll go hold him off, for now.”

“You just said the Hokage couldn’t take him,” Sasuke replies. He finds himself slightly surprised at the poorly-concealed concern in his voice, and promptly feels a stab of guilt for the thought.

“I said it’d be difficult, not impossible,” Kakashi points out airily, even though he’s fairly certain that he’d lose to Orochimaru in just about any circumstance where the man wasn’t missing a limb or four. Then, much to his genin’s consternation, Kakashi pauses to ruffle his hair. “I’ll be fine, Sasuke.”

“...Whatever,” he eventually says, turning along with Bisuke and Bull. “...Naruto won’t be happy if you don’t watch his match.”

Kakashi suppresses a snort. “Maa, of course. I wouldn’t dare disappoint Naruto,” he says, outright smirking when the Uchiha’s ears turn pink. “See you soon, hm?”

“Hn,” Sasuke says eloquently, while both of his ninken bark in response.

The moment they’re gone from his line of sight, Kakashi shifts his gaze towards the forest and resists the urge to groan.

“—isn’t this curious?” a silky voice murmurs, just as Kakashi arrives.

Fuck, he thinks succinctly. And then again, once he notices the ANBU that falls, slumped against a splintered tree.

“...Ah,” a barely-scratched Orochimaru lets out, blinking. “It appears that we have another guest.” His gaze shifts towards Kakashi, lips curling into a slimy sort of smile. “Hatake-san, is it?”

The ANBU, face cloaked in shadow, twitches.

“Do you two know each other?” Orochimaru wonders. “Or… I suppose you wouldn’t, considering…”

Kakashi presses his lips together beneath his mask. “Orochimaru,” he says plainly. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m sure we both know why I’m here, Hatake,” he replies, almost wryly. “Though I suppose if you’ve noticed me, you’ve already sent Sasuke off by now, hm? What a shame…”

Kakashi raises a brow, knowing full-well that Orochimaru sees his attempt to stall for what it is. “You don’t seem all that disappointed.”

“I have found something interesting to occupy my time with,” Orochimaru says, gaze briefly sliding towards the injured ANBU. “And I doubt he can be all that far just yet. If I were to leave now, or even soon…”

“I’m afraid that I can’t let you leave,” Kakashi says, faux-apologetically.

Orochimaru laughs, low and amused. “You always were rather confident, weren’t you?”

Kakashi allows his eyes to curve upwards at the blatant jab. “Maa, what can I say? It’s part of my charm.”

“Oh,” the ANBU mutters, managing to sound equal parts offended and delirious, “...now you’re a chatterbox…” He mumbles something else under his breath, ending on a half-slurred, “Bastard.”

Kakashi feels a vague spike of bewilderment when Orochimaru genuinely sighs at the ANBU’s dazed ramblings.

“You never shut up, do you?”

“No,” the ANBU spits. Genuinely. As in, Kakashi watches his crimson spittle stain the grass.

“Of course not,” Orochimaru says. “Though as interesting as this is, I’m afraid that I’ll have to be on my way now.”

Kakashi does not expect him to go for the man he’d just insulted. The Sharingan, however, is actually rather helpful when it’s not forcing him into abrupt comas, and he manages to intercept Orochimaru just as the ANBU flinches.

“Holy fuck,” the man blurts out, holding a hand in front of his face.

“You’re protecting him,” Orochimaru notes, raising a brow. “Why is that? You have to know he’s not truly one of yours.”

Kakashi bites back a grimace.

He does. He has. But he’s also fairly certain that this man, as odd as he seems, is likely the same person who Naruto had complained about, and who later received hesitant gratitude from his genin when they’d realized the danger they’d actually been in.

“Maa,” Kakashi lets out airily. “I suppose I’m feeling particularly generous today.”

He just hopes, a little desperately, that this doesn’t end up biting him in the ass.

“Very well, then,” Orochimaru says plainly. “Though if you insist on acting like a dog, you’ll be slaughtered like one.”

Kakashi promptly grabs the not-ANBU by the shoulder, ignoring his pained wheeze as he drags them both away from an incredibly-destructive, concentrated blast of wind.

“Hm,” he lets out absently, suddenly remembering the fallen trees from earlier. “Fuck.”

The fake ANBU, battered as he is, lets out a snort.

Chapter Text

“...Ah,” Orochimaru says suddenly, letting Obito drop to the ground with a grunt. “It appears that we have another guest.”

What, he thinks, rapidly blinking away the black spots that fill his vision. And then—

“Hatake-san, is it?”

What, his mind repeats, with emphasis.

“Do you two know each other?” Orochimaru asks. “Or… I suppose you wouldn’t, considering…”

“Orochimaru,” Kakashi replies. When his eyes flick towards Obito, he ducks his head with a wince. “What are you doing here?”

He desperately wants to ask Kakashi the same. Knowing him, though, it’s probably some stupid reason like ‘sacrificing myself so Sasuke can get away in time, because I’m a fucking dumbass and gamble with my own life like it’s a poker chip.’

(And listen, Obito knows he’s a hypocrite. But that’s always been a bit of a core personality trait for him, and regardless of any changes—no matter how absurd—to his situation, he’s not letting it go anytime soon.)

“I’m afraid that I can’t let you leave,” Kakashi says, and Obito remembers that it’s generally frowned upon to zone out when you’re three steps away from a man who’d been trying to murder you moments prior.

Orochimaru allows his amusement to show. “You always were rather confident, weren’t you?”

Obito makes a face. “Oh, now you’re a chatterbox… But you can’t even give me the time of day without trying to murk me halfway through. Bastard.”

Which. Might sound more threatening, had he sounded less like an overzealous drunkard with a death wish.

“You never shut up do you?” Orochimaru asks, as if he’s not among the poster children for long-winded villain speeches.

“No,” he says, spitting at him in protest. It does not go quite as far as he’d like it to.

A mixture of exasperation and disgust paints the Sannin’s features. “Of course not. Though as interesting as this is, I’m afraid that I’ll have to be on my way now.”

Obito just barely sees him coming. This does not mean he has the capacity—either mentally or physically—to dodge. 

He tries, and only succeeds in encouraging black splotches to cloud his vision. He braces himself, then takes a sharp breath when a blur appears before him.

“You’re protecting him,” he hears. It’s muffled, like he’s floating underwater; Obito does not think this is a good sign. “Why is… have to know… not… of yours.”

“Maa… generous… today…”

Obito shakes his head, hard. When a sharp pain shoots through his skull, he bites his tongue, suppressing a wince.

“Very well then,” Orochimaru says. The words are quiet, almost distorted, but Kakashi doesn’t seem to have any trouble hearing them at all. “Though if… insist on… you’ll die like one.”

Obito startles when Kakashi grabs him by the shoulder, dragging him elsewhere. A violent burst of wind smothers his wheeze, as well as the other man’s hum.

“Fuck,” Kakashi says, eyeing a thoroughly-pulverized line of trees.

A touch hysterical, Obito lets out a snort. 

You’re telling me, he doesn’t say, head still bowed. While he’d rather not hinder his own vision, he also doesn’t want to risk Kakashi somehow recognizing a familiar teenager in the mess of crimson-stained rags he’s been reduced to. He’ll eventually reveal himself, if they both make it out of this alive, but seeing as he doesn’t know how the other man will react to his presence, now is not the most optimal time to do so.

Regardless, it’s becoming increasingly difficult to comprehend much at all. Not only does he have a raging headache, but all of his senses seem to have decided to take the world’s most ill-timed break, and it’s taking everything he has not to bury himself underground and become one with the earth. Even if his mokuton is… weirdly fond of that idea.

…Which does leave him wondering if he should feel bad for Hashirama trees when they’re damaged or cut down. Are they well-and truly sentient, or are their apparent personalities more one-dimensional than they appear? Is this really where his thoughts decide to run off when he’s on his last legs?

With another, sudden flash of pain, he finds himself in a new location. Kakashi stands above him, Sharingan whirling. Orochimaru eyes both of them with narrow, golden eyes. 

Their mouths are moving; he can’t hear what either of them are saying. 

Obito forces out a long breath, far too aware that he’s not going to remain conscious for much longer. He has a good few jutsus left in him before he pushes himself to complete exhaustion, but seeing as his body refuses to respond, there’s little he can do on that front.

Unless…

His eyes flick up towards Kakashi the next time they move; it’s all the man can do, now. Dodge, run, hide. Before long, he’s going to run out of chakra, and then they’ll both be fucked.

He hasn’t figured out, yet, how to use kamui from a distance. More accurately, he doesn’t even know if he can, or if that’s an ability reserved for Kakashi’s Sharingan.

But he does know that he can pull others along when they’re touching— just like he had with Karin during his match with Tsunade. Which means that if he can somehow get his hands on Orochimaru…

“Attack,” Obito murmurs, exhaling when Kakashi glances his way. “This time— attack.”

Kakashi hesitates. Whether it’s because of his current state or their unfamiliarity, he doesn’t trust him.

“Please,” he says, unsure if he’s even speaking loud enough for Kakashi to hear him. He raises his gaze on impulse, swallowing when Kakashi tenses at the sight of his eye; otherwise, as far as he can tell, the man doesn’t quite recognize him. “Kakashi— attack.”

The man’s hand twitches. A moment later, there’s lightning sparking at his fingertips.

Obito turns his head, just as Orochimaru lunges towards Kakashi’s unguarded back. He reaches out, swallowing back a pained cry as a tear slips down his cheek.

Kamui, he thinks, hand brushing against the man’s wrist.

The world swirls, and Obito chokes on his own spit when they both tumble against cube-like floors.

He heaves once, holding himself up with a trembling arm. Orochimaru stumbles, jaw tightening as a current of lightning runs through him.

Obito sends off a mental apology to Kakashi for leaving him alone in the forest, then meets the Sannin’s gaze. “I…” he rasps, “Am the only one… who can get us… out of here.”

Orochimaru narrows his eyes. Obito’s own, quite appropriately, roll into the back of his head.

Chapter Text

Obito opens his eye.

A slitted, golden gaze meets his; much to his chagrin, Orochimaru appears to have not succumbed to a spontaneous and fatal disease while he’d been out of commission.

Obito closes his eye.

“You’re awake,” Orochimaru observes, a touch dry.

He wants, more than anything, to sink into the ground. Or, at the very least, flop over and pretend that he doesn’t exist. “Deja vu,” he mutters instead.

Once is an accident, twice is a coincidence. He hopes that this won’t become a pattern; if he ever awakens to an unwelcome greeting from Jiraiya, he’s going to lose his shit.

Almost absently, Orochimaru hums. “This is how you escaped before, I imagine.”

Obito squints, then remembers that he and Karin had been thrown into some dingy cell in a location he probably should’ve bothered to scope out. He opens his mouth to reply, only to take pause when he realizes that Orochimaru is sitting on his couch, idly fiddling with—

He rips Doug from the Sannin’s hands, ignoring his elegantly-raised brow. “No touch,” he hisses, then pats the plush down. Thankfully, it appears that no damage was suffered.

Orochimaru eyes him like he’s a particularly-interesting specimen with a hefty amount of brain damage. Which is… almost certainly the case, considering he’d been half-buried beneath a rockfall and was promptly stuffed with copious amounts of the Shodaime’s cells, but he doesn’t know that.

Also, it’s then that Obito notices, with no small amount of satisfaction, that the man’s usually-perfect hair is standing up at the ends, thanks to the sparks from Kakashi’s chidori. It also looks like he’d attempted to comb it down, before realizing that it was a lost cause for as long as he was stuck here.

Get fucked, he thinks smugly, then winces when he remembers that he’d left his former teammate alone, several hours out from the village, relying on a single genin to bring help. And, considering that he’s the only witness to the incident and is—again—alone, he’ll have a lot of explaining to do.

…He feels a lot worse about those I.O.U.s, now.

“I’d express my surprise that you’re still standing,” Orochimaru eventually says with an almost regal air, “But I’m beginning to wonder if you’ve spliced your DNA with a cockroach.”

Quite honestly, Obito wouldn’t be surprised.

Unfortunately, that does remind him that he’s not exactly in top form, and after carefully placing Doug onto a nearby bookcase, his legs buckle from beneath him.

“I meant to do that,” he tells Orochimaru with a wheeze, half-splayed across the ground.

“Of course,” the Sannin agrees.

He makes a face, then slowly twitches into a sitting position. His vision briefly blurs due to the pain, but that’s probably fine. 

Orochimaru begins to drum his fingers on the coffee table. “I do believe,” he says, eyeing his Sharingan, “That you claimed you were the only one who could remove others from this plane.”

Obito blinks, lips slowly curling into a smirk. “Yep.”

The Sannin hums. “My, you sure are cocky,” the man says, wearing a more reserved version of Obito’s expression. “I assure you, I can leave anytime I please— it’ll simply be more inconvenient.”

His smirk drops. He’s abruptly reminded of the fact that Orochimaru is a crafty bastard, and Obito’s not the only one with blatantly-overpowered abilities. He’s also fairly certain he knows exactly which technique the Sannin would use, too.

“So you want me to let you out?” Obito asks flatly.

“If you wouldn’t mind,” he agrees. “Otherwise, I’ll just kill you and deal with the issue from there.”

“Don’t sound too torn up about it,” Obito replies, trying not to sound as lightheaded as he feels. Judging by Orochimaru’s growing smirk, he doesn’t think he succeeds.

Realistically, he could just leave. Which would be a fantastic option, except that without Itachi’s bullshit Susanoo sword, he has no permanent way to get rid of Orochimaru. And if he just let him sit around in kamui, Obito wouldn’t be able to access it without worrying about the threat of imminent death.

Plus, he’d probably fuck the place up out of spite, and Obito has spent way too much effort—and ryo—trying to decorate the place for it to go to waste.

So, he’s left with a gamble. Which is incredibly ironic, considering his half-baked plan.

“...Okay,” he replies slowly. “I’ll let you out.”

Orochimaru narrows his eyes. Clearly, he recognizes that Obito is thinking of doing something incredibly stupid. Which is kind of his brand, at this point.

“...In a little while.”

Before the snake Sannin can say another word, he slips out of kamui and appears in the middle of a hotel room.

“Hello,” Obito greets, ducking the bottle that’s thrown straight at his head, “Tobi here.”

His attacker stares. He looks down, and promptly remembers that he’s covered in blood.

“Um,” he says.

Tsunade exhales and, in an odd twist of fate, proceeds to pass out.

Chapter Text

“I said I was sorry,” Obito mutters, eyeing the glowing hand that has a firm grip on his shoulder.

“Of course,” Shizune replies, sickly-sweet. Obito gets the sense he’s one mistake away from taking a scalpel to the spine. 

Karin frowns, not quite hovering. “What happened?”

“Oh, you know. Same old, same old. And I mean that literally, by the way. I literally cannot stop running into the same problem over and over again.” He pauses, squinting. “I’m beginning to wonder if this is an odd form of cosmic torture…”

“...Orochimaru?” Karin ventures, causing the green glow to waver. 

“He’s like a scorned lover,” he mourns. “...Or, wait. I think I’ve gotten the roles swapped.”

“Orochimaru was your lover?” Sai asks, literal as ever.

Obito opens and closes his mouth. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

“What the fuck.”

Shizune’s head jerks to the side. “Lady Tsunade! Are you alright?”

The woman’s gaze flicks around the room. Her expression, quite noticeably, sours when she notices Obito. “No,” she says. It’s more an answer to his general existence than it is to Shizune’s question.

“I haven’t even said anything yet.”

“And yet, I know it’s going to be utterly moronic. The answer is no.”

“I—”

“Absolutely not.”

“But—”

“Be glad I haven’t thrown you out yet, kid.”

You were too unconscious to do that, Obito doesn’t reply, both because it’d be kind of a low blow and the whole reason he’s here is that he doesn’t want to die.

After an extended pause, he takes a breath.

“During our bet,” he says, causing her to frown. “Do you remember that little trick I pulled?”

She crosses her arms, suspicion coming off her in waves. “What about it?”

“...Hypothetically,” he says, since he clearly hadn’t abused the word enough a few chapters back, “It may or may not be connected to something that— well. It could be considered a personal dimension of sorts. And… There might be a little something… some one in there you might recognize, and would definitely be better equipped to deal with…”

Tsunade stares at him, long and hard. He shoots for a smile—something guileless, and slightly pleading—but he’s fairly certain it looks more like a grimace.

“No,” she says again.

“Tsunade—”

“No,” she replies firmly. “I’m not— no. I’m not dealing with that shit.”

“He’s your teammate.”

“Was,” she spits. “He was my teammate. Figure it out yourself. Or better yet, go find Jiraiya. I hear he’s been hanging around Konoha lately.” She clicks her tongue. “And Sage knows he’s obsessed with the bastard.”

Obito breathes in a half-failed attempt to tamp down his growing frustration. “I might have, if I thought he’d listen to me. But I don’t, so I came to you.”

“It’s not my problem,” Tsunade insists, beginning to search the room. “Shizune, where’d you hide the good stuff?”

“Except, you know, it is,” he replies. “Because you, Jiraiya, and the Hokage are the only ones who even have a chance of taking him on.”

Obito could have, before he came into the picture. But that was then, and this is now, and he can’t keep Orochimaru in kamui and hope he doesn’t come back to haunt him.

“There’s your solution then,” Tsunade says. “Ask the Hokage.”

Obito wonders, absently, if it’s possible to suppress an aneurysm. “He let him go once. He’s not going to put down his student until he fucks up again,” he replies with a calmness he doesn’t even come close to feeling. “With how things are now, it’s more likely that Orochimaru comes out on top.”

“So, what?” Tsunade asks, meeting his gaze with a sardonic laugh. “You want me to kill him off for you?”

“You couldn’t,” he says, and sighs when her jaw tenses. “You can’t,” he repeats. “That curse mark he’s been spreading around would let him come back in a matter of months. Weeks, maybe. Nothing short of dropping him headfirst into the Shinigami’s stomach would get rid of him. Not permanently.”

There’s a long, tense pause.

“Why the hell is he your problem anyway?” Tsunade asks. “It sounds like you’re the one throwing yourself into this mess.”

“Because I’m a dumbass,” Obito replies wryly. “I mean— there were plenty of things I could’ve done to make this even slightly less taxing for myself. But I didn’t, so now we’re here, and I’m asking for help because I really don’t have the time to have a training arc when there’s a S-Rank missing-nin lurking in my personal dimension. Also, it’s kinda too late to back out now,” he says, chancing a glance towards Karin. “For more reasons than one.”

Tsunade presses her lips together before exhaling, long and slow. “I couldn’t help you, even if I wanted to,” she eventually says, almost bitterly. “I don’t know how. Hell knows he won’t listen to me. But—” she sucks in a long, hissing breath. “He might, to someone else.”

“...I thought we’d already exhausted our options on that front,” Obito says slowly.

Tsunade makes a face, like she’s torn between two, distinct choices and the more appealing one involves bodily throwing herself out the window.

“I wasn’t joking when I said Jiraiya isn’t an awful option,” she says plainly. Before he can protest, she walks off into the next room, leaving him in a room filled with bewildered shinobi.

“...Lady Tsunade?” Shizune says, then glances back at him before following after her. “Lady Tsunade!”

A pause.

“I have no idea what just happened,” Obito admits with a frown.

“Nothing new, then,” Sai says with a polite smile.

Obito squints. “...Is he always like this?”

“Yes,” Karin replies with almost fond exasperation, while Shin ruffles the younger boy’s hair, “Yes he is.”

Tsunade stomps back into the room, then. Shizune walks behind her, holding a pig.

“Are you sure about this?” the latter asks, eyes flicking between the rest of them. “We don’t know—”

“You heard the Uchiha,” she replies irritably. “And don’t expect to stay any longer than we have to. Once that white-haired idiot’s on board, we’re gone.”

“Of… course,” Shizune replies slowly, wearing a slight frown.

“...Lady Tsunade,” Karin asks, “What’s going on?”

Tsunade huffs. “Pack your bags, brats,” she says with a dry flourish, taking a moment to shoot Obito a particularly mean stink eye. “We’re going to Konoha.”

Chapter Text

“You know,” Obito says plainly, eyeing the carbon copy of himself that stares at him like a deer in headlights. “I really don’t know why I’m surprised, at this point.”

The other man pauses at that, inspecting him more closely. “Ah,” he says, making a face as he comes to some sort of realization. “This is weird. Like looking into a less-handsome mirror.”

“I resent that,” Obito replies. “Also, put that down.”

Other-Obito eyes the lamp in his hands with more intrigue. “Is it important or something?”

Obito makes a face. “No. I just don’t want you touching my things.”

“We’re the same person,” Other-Obito points out, attempting to cross his arms.

“I'm as original as they come,” Obito denies, then reaches out to grab the lamp. “Now give it here.”

For whatever reason, the other man steps backwards. Thus, Obito’s hand instead grazes against his clone’s skin. Which, of course, causes the universe to implode.

Or, more accurately, a burst of light blinds them both and Obito finds himself groaning in a bush, just a few yards away from where Kakashi is stealing his schtick.

“Well,” he says, watching as the man attempts to play around with Mokuton. “That can’t be good.”

Kakashi slowly turns towards him, wearing a complicated expression. “Hm.”

Clearly, there’s only one option here.

He takes in a long breath and, with a flick of his wrist, sends Doug flying towards Kakashi’s face whilst calling the plushie’s name. His faultless tactic works yet again; while the man is distracted, he snags Doug back from the ground and flickers away without a moment’s pause.

Evidently not-Kakashi says something else after that—a line that both confirms Obito’s suspicions and causes him to buffer. Quite appropriately, he falls out of a tree before bodily throwing himself into kamui.

Which.

Is a lot more cluttered than he remembers.

“Doug,” he eventually says, “I think we might have a problem.”

He’s fairly certain Kakashi has a thing for Obito, here. He’s also definitely messing with him, in the worst ways possible.

His apparent ritual of knocking his head against a photo of his falsely-dead-teammate and bewildering habit of moaning at random aside, the guy’s weird. Like, out of character weird—which is something he knows far too much about, considering the circumstances.

…Not that it matters, much. It’s not his problem. There’s no world wherein leaving his alternate self to deal with this mess isn’t the correct option, here.

Luckily for him (for once in his life), it’s not particularly difficult to get ahold of a Hiraishin kunai, seeing as Minato left them literally everywhere in-and-outside-of The Land of Fire. Scrolls, brushes, and ink are commonplace enough, though he prefers to snag each of them from unsuspecting shinobi while not trying all that hard to evade literally anyone’s notice.

(He does plant Doug in a few, conspicuous places when no one’s looking. Sometimes, even when they are.

He’s pretty sure he’s driving maybe-not-Kakashi mad, with that one.)

Point is, it’s not all that hard to figure out how to get back to his universe, after the last time. The forest isn’t the environment he’d have chosen to get this done, but hey, he really doesn’t have anything better to do than incessantly stalk Kakashi, so.

When the seal activates, he flickers once, twice—

“Hey handsome. Nice scars. No idea who you are. Uh. Wanna make out?”

—and has just enough time to see his alternate self brain Kakashi with a knockout punch before slipping back into his own dimension.

Chapter Text

“So,” Obito says, and that’s all it takes for Tsunade’s eye to twitch. Glancing back at the small gaggle of shinobi children trailing behind them, he can’t find it in himself to be especially offended. “...Just so we’re all on the same page, I figure it’s best to mention that we should probably consider making a pit stop. And by probably, I mean definitely. Because literally none of these kids can be seen inside of Konoha.”

“Who the hell did you drop on my doorstep?” Tsunade hisses.

“That is a very good question,” Obito replies resolutely. “And, well. It certainly has an answer. Several, even.”

“Uchiha.”

Obito winces. “You know about Karin,” he eventually says, lowering his voice. “The other two… I mean in this the nicest way possible, but I’m sure you’ve noticed how fucked up they are. Believe it or not, they could’ve turned out worse.”

Tsunade’s jaw sets. “They’re not ANBU.”

He looks back to see Shin’s gaze flicking towards Sai. “I can’t imagine Danzo would react well if he saw them again,” he says. Then, “I can’t imagine the Third would recognize them at all.”

An array of emotions flicker across Tsunade’s face. In the end, it settles into something between resignation and resolve. “What, exactly, are you suggesting?”

“We could try to disguise them, though I don’t know how well that would hold up. Otherwise, I hear Mist is lovely this time of year.”

Tsunade’s head snaps towards him so fast he’d be surprised if she didn’t give herself whiplash. “Are you insane?” she asks, then makes an interesting face. “Don’t answer that.”

“I don’t think I ever want to hear your opinion of me,” Obito grumbles. “And yeah, I know it’s been… tense there, as of late, but that’s…” He squints. “Probably been rectified.”

“Probably,” Tsunade repeats, impressively dry.

“I would assume,” he sniffs. “This is hard for me to suggest too, you know. Shizune’s already teaching Karin about poisons—the last thing she needs is to carry around a giant freaking sword.”

“What the hell are you even talking about?”

Obito blinks. “You must’ve heard about the whole thing with the Mizukage by now.”

“Not as much as you’re assuming, I assure you,” Tsunade says flatly. “All anyone outside of Mist knows is that some rebellion forced him to hand the hat over.”

“To Mei, probably,” he replies absently. “That’s good. I’m sure she could convince Zabuza to take the kids.” He glances at Tsunade. “Yes, Zabuza Momochi. Do you see the sword problem, now?”

“What I see,” she responds sharply, “Is a man trying to tell me to hand over a bunch of Konoha brats to a missing nin who’s specifically known for killing children.”

“Former missing nin,” Obito stresses. “And… Yes, that does sound pretty terrible when you say it like that. But Zabuza is a total softie, I swear. And in a basically-impossible scenario, Haku—that’s his student, by the way—would stop him before he got all murder-y.”

“Well. You’ve certainly inspired my confidence.”

“I get the feeling that you’re lying to me.”

Tsunade makes an odd sound, like a cross between a snarl and a huff. “You think?”

Obito takes note of her tense frame and abruptly remembers that half of her character revolved around the idea of keeping children from early graves. “Listen,” he says after a moment, “I know how this sounds. But they’ll be safe there. Safer than they would be in Konoha, at least. If we go and you still don’t like the idea, we can figure something else out. But for now, I really do think this is our best bet.”

Tsunade eyes him for several moments before finally forcing out a breath. “Fine,” she says. “But I swear, Uchiha, if we cause a political incident it’s on your head.”

Obito cracks a grin, though pauses to internally plead that it doesn’t come to that. He doesn’t think it will, but he’s been proven wrong before, and his luck is almost comically awful.

“You’ll have to explain the change in plans to everyone else, by the way,” Tsunade suddenly says, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Have fun with that.”

Before he can say a word, she shoves him backwards. Shizune, Shin, Sai, Karin, and Tonton all turn to look at him at once while he does his best not to faceplant into the dirt.

“Is everything alright?” Shizune asks, bemused.

“Your teacher is a sadist,” he replies mournfully. He’s pretty sure Tsunade laughs.

Chapter Text

He claimed he hadn’t been joking, back in the Akatsuki hideout. Technically, he hadn’t been; Obito had simply been lying through his goddamn teeth. He had no plans to start a bakery, and he’s certainly never made a snickerdoodle. He should not be giving this idea any consideration whatsoever.

On the other hand…  

There’s potential in this horrendously out of character notion. Frankly, it’d be really, really funny—not to mention a massive ‘Fuck You’ to whatever gods decided to dropkick him into a universe populated by murderous, magic ninjas. 

So Obito starts an empire.

…Or, well. He starts the start of an empire. It’s a work in progress, spawning from a dinky little bake sale that draws more suspicion than it does proper customers. But Obito has already decided that he will be the Supreme Girl Scout, and he welcomes the Sage’s divine punishment should he ever even think about backing down. Who cares if he fucking sucks at baking?!

Most people, actually. You can’t really run a half-decent pastry business when nobody wants to eat anything you make. Bewildering concept, he knows.

Apparently, though, he’s a hit with the old ladies. There’s something about his general disposition, he guesses, that has them taking pity on him. He might be offended that they eye him like he’s an underfed kitten, but he really couldn’t care less about his pride seeing as their insistence on helping him in the kitchen is the only reason he manages to produce something at least halfway edible.

Of course, ‘halfway edible,’ isn’t exactly a glowing review, so he’s forced to reconsider his options. This leads him to the only logical course of action: employing a legion of old women to mass produce baked goods while he runs between towns offering free samples and overpriced boxes of cookies. 

Obito would feel bad about exploiting them—the old women, that is—but they seem to be into it. He’s fairly certain that a fair few of them would agree to help even if he weren’t paying them handsomely. Like, it’s probably a little excessive if he’s being honest. He doesn’t actually know how the economic system works, and he doesn’t quite care enough to ask so long as he doesn’t go bankrupt. 

He wonders, absently, if this is really why the Akatsuki needed Kakuzu. He gets the feeling that most of its other members didn’t quite have the skill sets to deal with the logistics of… anything except murder, really. Konan probably could’ve handled it, but she kind of had her hands full as is.

Speaking of the Akatsuki, his best customers are, without a doubt, Itachi and Kisame. Mostly the former. The Uchiha definitely needs some sort of sweetness in his life, though, so Obito’s more than willing to turn an empathetic blind eye to his indulgences. Plus, it’s fantastic for business; Itachi’s a cute kid when he’s not being all murdery, and customers are always more inclined to treat themselves once they see him buying out half the shop.

Eventually, Obito drops all pretenses and hires Itachi and Kisame on as honorary girl scouts. He yearns for the day he can poach the rest of the Akatsuki; an empiric cookie organization led by old ladies and S-Ranked missing nin (save for Zetsu, who he will spray liberally with weed killer) is quite possibly the most hilarious—and oddly profitable—idea he’s ever had.

Chapter Text

Without Kamui to skip through the process, their little group is forced to go through ninja customs. Which is, of course, made incredibly tense by the fact that Kiri has only just dragged itself out of a civil war and almost all of them are very blatantly Konoha natives.

He’d be a little more vocal about the issue, but even he realizes that whining about actually having to follow proper procedure makes him sound equal parts entitled and deranged. Except, it becomes increasingly evident that they’re meant to have some sort of papers confirming their identities, if not their arrivals, and even the ever-responsible Shizune is at a loss on that front. As it turns out, they generally steer clear of Hidden Villages for this very reason: they don’t take very kindly to a Sannin showing up on their metaphorical doorstep and demanding undocumented entry.

When the nearest guard starts reaching towards their weapons pouch, Obito flashes them a tight smile. “One moment, please,” he says, dragging his companions into an impromptu huddle. “Well, gang. It appears we’re at an impasse.”

Sai stomps down on Obito’s foot, prompting a wince and an abrupt release. “Perhaps if we manage to avoid our untimely deaths, you’ll learn to consider the consequences of your impulsive actions.”

Obito makes a face. “I’m beginning to wonder if your boss had you taking specialized bullying courses.” More likely, he made a very poor call in introducing him to Tsunade. It’s become rapidly apparent that whatever filter she does have, she doesn’t make use of very often. “Now, does anyone have any ideas? Somehow, I doubt these… fine folks will accept the, ‘We’re all unregistered missing-nin and/or refugees’ excuse.” 

The reality is as such: It’s highly unlikely that Shin and Sai have paperwork at all, Tsunade and Shizune must’ve lost theirs in the decade or so they’ve been traveling—that is, if they bothered to take it in the first place—and Obito’s was probably eaten by a plant monster or something.

“You said you knew people here, didn’t you?” Karin asks. “Do you think we could ask to see them?”

“If I requested Zabuza Momochi by name, I think they might laugh me straight off the plank,” Obito replies dryly. “Haku might be a better bet, but there’s also a chance they think I’m a revenge-seeking Yagura sympathizer and slit my throat on principle. Anyone else probably wouldn’t give me the time of day, even if they bothered to show.” 

Shizune frowns. “Are you sure no one would recognize you? If not by name, then description?”

“Well, I sure hope that’s the case,” Shin interjects pleasantly. “Otherwise, we should probably be worried about whatever Eyepatch is hearing about us, over there.”

Obito whips his head around to see Ao of all people leveling him with a searing gaze. “Oh, dear.” When the man steps away from the guards, he scrambles out of the group huddle and pastes on a grin. “Ao, my man! How’s it hangin’?”

Ao watches disdainfully as Obito’s hands instinctively form into finger guns. “Mizukage-sama requests your presence in her office. Your companions are invited to come along, so long as they’re capable of keeping to themselves.”

Obito blinks. “Just like that?”

Rather than dignifying his question with a verbal response, Ao turns around and gestures for the guards to let them through. Tsunade, followed by the rest of their group, walks past Obito with a raised brow. “Well? Let’s go, then.” 

As he reluctantly falls into step beside her, the mist thickens, blocking their view every way. He grimaces, eye settling upon the back of Ao’s head. “This is it,” he sighs. “I’ve just willingly stepped onto the set of a horror movie.”

Tsunade rolls her eyes. “If they were going to try anything, they would’ve done so already. This is just showmanship.”

Obito stumbles over a rock that he’s almost certain hadn’t been there before. When he raises his gaze, Ao’s head is just barely tilted to the side. “Somehow,” he grumbles, “That doesn’t make me feel much better.”

Karin frowns, stepping closer to the both of them. “There’s hardly anyone else around.”

Tsunade huffs, obscuring her words with a twist of her lips. “Don’t let them hear you say that. Keep your eyes ahead. As far as we know, we’re being watched from all sides.”

With a slight dip of her head, Karin returns to her place beside Shin and Sai with a light nudge to the former. Evidently, Kirigakure doesn’t have the resources to waste capable shinobi on surveillance duty. That doesn’t exactly bode well for the request he’ll be making, but it’s a bit too late to back out now. 

After an absurd amount of twists and turns—most of which, Obito assumes, are completely arbitrary—Ao slows his pace. While the mist doesn’t vanish, it settles enough that he can actually see the building in front of them. 

The doors slowly open before them, revealing suspiciously empty halls. “Don’t touch anything,” Ao says, looking straight at Obito. Before he can do more than muster up an expression of offense, the man steps inside, and Tsunade shoves him inside with an unintelligible grumble.

“Really feeling the love here,” Obito mutters. Perhaps predictably, it earns him a swift smack on the back of his head.

Further inside, Ao delivers an oddly-timed knock to a large set of double doors. Once he pushes them open, Obito gets his second-ever look at Mei Terumi. Haku, standing placidly before the leftmost wall, offers him a pleasant smile and a light wave.

Zabuza scowls, slapping Haku’s hand back to his side. “Don’t encourage him.”

“Apologies, Zabuza-sama,” Haku replies. The curl of his mouth is distinctly amused.

A soft snort draws their attention back to the center of the room. “Welcome, Obito-san. And Lady Tsunade, of course. What brings you and your companions here?” 

“If you pull that bullshit from before,” Zabuza warns before he can do more than part his lips, “I will gut you.”

Obito simply cannot resist. “Hypothetically?”

“Zabuza,” Mei inputs mildly, causing the man to release the hilt of his sword with an irritated twitch. “Thank you. Obito-san, please refrain from further antagonizing my shinobi.”

Obito suppresses a wince as Tsunade grinds her foot against his heel. “Noted.” He exhales, running a hand through his hair. “I’m sure it’s pretty obvious, but I’m here to request a favor. From Zabuza or Haku, whoever’s able. I know you’re kinda getting yourselves back into the swing of things right now, but this whole thing really needs some discretion.”

Mei laces her hands together, gaze inscrutable. “I assume this request of yours somehow involves your companions?”

“Right on the money,” Obito replies wryly, gesturing for Shin, Sai, and Karin to step forwards. “Long story short, I need someone to keep an eye on these three.”

Zabuza narrows his eyes. “You want us to play babysitter to a trio of Konoha brats?”

Obito places a hand on Karin’s shoulder. “Politically sensitive ones, as I’m sure you’ve noticed.”

“...Well,” Mei draws out, “I have to say, this isn’t quite what I expected.” She drums her nails on her desk, gaze sliding towards Tsunade. “I don’t suppose you’d be willing to offer a favor, in turn?”

Tsunade clicks her tongue, arms crossed over her chest. “What? You want me to put in a good word for you?”

Mei laughs, light and enchanting. From beside her desk, Ao tenses like he’s preparing for a bomb to go off. “Well, if it wouldn’t be too much trouble.”

After a long, increasingly-uncomfortable staring contest, Tsunade forces out a heavy sigh. “Just this once. And don’t expect me to go above and beyond, either.”

The Mizukage bares her teeth in a winning smile. “Of course.”

Chapter Text

“It’s really not my fault that it’s so convenient,” Obito says. “Like, okay. If you had magic, teleporting eyeballs—that is, they let you teleport, because spontaneously fucking off mid-conversation wouldn’t be particularly helpful—wouldn’t you use them, too?”

Shizune frowns when he rounds on her. “Why, exactly, are we having this conversation?” 

“I’m not lazy,” Obito insists, slumping when she levels him with an unimpressed look. “Listen, I just think that if I can pop around with virtually no consequences whatsoever, I should be able to without facing undue judgment.”

“Would you stop whining already?” Tsunade snaps. “I literally could not give less of a shit about your inability to walk.”

Obito throws his arms into the air. “I can walk just fine!”

Tsunade’s eye twitches. “Nobody said you couldn’t until you started yapping about it.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Obito tells her, reaching for her shoulders before being warded off with a low growl. “We’re short form content, Tsunade. Reduced to clownish caricatures! Not that I’m particularly torn up about that bit, but it’s the principle of the thing. And the people sure are talking!”

Tsunade pinches the bridge of her nose. “Sage, I need a drink.”

“I’d be worried, but your whole thing with alcohol is unnatural,” Obito notes, shifting gears with ease. “You simply should not be as high functioning as you are. Or, hold on. Does medical chakra have anything to do with that?”

“Shizune, do something before I kill him.”

The black-haired woman withholds a sigh, turning towards Obito. “I suggest you quit while you’re behind, Obito-san.”

“Rude. It’s not like—” he pauses, squinting. “Did you just say quit while I’m behind?”

“Hold out your hands, please,” Shizune requests, ignoring his question entirely. When he does so, bemused, she deposits a clothed pig into his arms before moving to join her mentor’s side. “Something to keep you occupied.”

Obito looks between Shizune and Tonton with an increasingly bewildered look. “Did I just get assigned babysitting duty?”

“No,” Tsunade calls out, sounding far too smug for his liking, “Tonton did.”

“I hope Doug is okay,” Obito says, mournfully scratching at Tonton’s neck. 

“I’m sure I’ll regret asking,” Tsunade says flatly, “But who the hell is Doug?”

Obito scowls. “You’ve met him. Hell, you’ve held him.”

Shizune turns, a crease between her brows. “Are… are you talking about that stuffed dog you’re always carrying around?”

“I’m pretty sure he’s somehow transforming into a genuine deity, but that’s hardly the point,” Obito replies, waving her off with his free hand. “I left him with that bloodthirsty snake. Alone!” He pauses. “Oh, hm. Speaking of, I should probably throw some food and water in there, or something. Orochimaru does need to eat, right?”

“Are you dense?” Tsunade asks. “Don’t answer that.”

“How am I supposed to know?” Obito grumbles. “You have to wonder if any of his DNA is still, you know, his. I wouldn’t be surprised if he trained himself out of the limitations of our mortal forms, or something.”

“He wishes,” Tsunade mutters, then amends, “He’s tried. Bastard thought he managed it once, but he ended up so malnourished that Jiraiya had to bridal carry him to the hospital.”

Obito raises his brows. “Was he—”

“He was tripping the fuck out,” Tsunade confirms. A brief smile flits across her face before it’s replaced with a grimace. “Shizune’s got an extra canteen in her bag. Chuck that through your eyeball dimension, and throw in whatever’s left over from dinner.” 

“Any dietary restrictions, you think?” he drawls, reluctantly putting together an extra plate.

Tsunade pushes herself to her feet, walking off towards one of the bedrooms they’d booked. “If he has any, that’s his problem. Now— wake me up before the sun rises, I’ll strangle you with your own spine.”

Obito winces when the door slams shut. “What a charmer.”

“I’d take her seriously,” Shizune says. “I’ve seen Lady Tsunade punch men through walls for less.”

“I’m beginning to think that saddling her with a trio of horrendously traumatized children wasn’t the best choice out there,” he muses, which earns him an especially exasperated look. “How long before we get there, you think?”

“Technically? Only a few days. But,” Shizune sighs, “The closer we get to Konoha, the more stops she’ll want to make. Try not to prod her too much, and I’ll try to keep our breaks to a minimum.”

Obito eyes Tsunade’s closed door with a slight frown. “Deal.” When Shizune stands, Tonton wriggles off his lap and his lips curl into a pout. “Doug, I miss fast travel…”

“Welcome to the struggles of us normal folk,” Shizune replies dryly, placing her spare canteen on the table. It’s horribly amusing that she thinks anyone around here is anything close to normal. “Goodnight, Obito-san.”

“Night,” he mutters, glaring at the table as she leaves the room. After the leftovers and canteen both disappear in a swirl of chakra, he flops onto his back with a groan.

Something occurs to him, a handful of days after they set off. Things have been suspiciously, concerningly, dreadfully—any number of synonyms for the overwhelming feeling of ‘uh-oh’—quiet. 

For once, he doesn’t bother fighting Tsunade when she drags him off to yet another casino. By the time they trudge back to the hotel, it’s long past noon. And when Shizune finds them, they’ve been sitting in silence for hours.

“Fuck,” Tsunade finally says, eyeing the thick wad of ryo in her hands. 

Obito clasps his hands in front of his mouth, forcing out a long breath. “Fuck,” he agrees.

“What’s wrong?” Shizune asks warily, eyes flicking between the two of them.

“I won,” Tsunade replies, kissing her teeth. “More than once.”

“I’ve not run into a single person trying to kill me in over a week,” Obito bemoans.

“Ah,” Shizune frowns. “Fuck.”

Chapter Text

“Girl help. I’m melding with the ground as we speak.”

Tsunade’s lips curl into a faint sneer. “This is genuinely pathetic. How have you survived this long?”

“Upper management likes prolonging my suffering for their own amusement,” Obito explains, then lifts his face from the dirt. “Is that too meta?” He’s certainly been more candid—his outright reference of Kishimoto to the face of a nonexistent character comes to mind—but he feels there has to be a line drawn somewhere.

Maybe not. This is probably one of his better Bits™, all things considered. If this absurd plotline had a cinematic universe of sorts, he wouldn’t be particularly surprised if it was a recurring thing. He just hopes those hypothetical losers aren’t considerably more competent than him. That’d be pretty embarrassing.

“Focus,” Tsunade demands, jamming her foot right between his ribs. She clicks her tongue at Obito’s ensuing wheeze. “You better get to work, brat. If our reckoning comes and you’re not prepared, I’m not sticking around to help your sorry ass.” 

“Mean,” Obito whines, but does push himself to his feet. “Is there a better way to do this than having you relentlessly beat me into the ground like you owe me money?”

Tsunade cracks her knuckles, smirking. “No.”

“Awesome,” he says, then frantically dives away from one of Tsunade’s spleen-shattering punches. Doug, he wishes he had some sort of cheat code to quicken this arc. He’s not asking for a montage or anything, but any amount of bodily harm avoided is a plus in his book. 

Obito warily glances between the human-made crater and the obscured form marching through the dust. Without being able to rely on kamui, the possibility of being brutally murdered has shot up dramatically. No wonder that snake-faced, haunting-the-narrative-ass-bitch, wants the Sharingan so badly.

Halfway through forming a scowl, he takes pause. 

“I have a magic eyeball,” he says. When Tsunade’s expression transforms into something that almost resembles a pout, he lets out an accusatory gasp. “You knew.”

She rolls her eyes. “Obviously, Uchiha.”

“I truly cannot believe we’re 39 memorable incidents, plus filler, into this thing and I’ve never abused this possibility.” Obito has literally thought about this before. Which does, in fact, probably mean that he’s a worse Uchiha than Kakashi Hatake. Damn.

He’s also in the middle of a spar that he should probably pay attention to. He doesn’t think that Tsunade will let the desperate ‘flailing out of the way of any and all attacks’ thing slide for much longer. With that thought, Obito plants himself firmly on the ground, straight across from Tsunade. As she cracks her neck, he allows a familiar, reddish tint to flood his vision. 

“Be warned,” he says, smirking. “If this somehow fails to help me, I will cry.”

"You’ll get no comfort from me," Tsunade drawls, unimpressed.

“On an unrelated note,” Obito asks, cocking his head to the side, “How would your patients rate your bedside manner?”

Despite herself, Tsunade doesn’t suppress her snort. “Adequate, if they want to remain whole. Now,” she flashes a vicious grin that he can’t help but mirror, “Try not to die.”

Chapter Text

“Do you ever get the feeling,” Obito wonders, “You’ve forgotten something important? Like, existentially.”

Shizune quietly passes Tsunade a handful of Ryo. The latter looks fairly miserable about the exchange.

He stares. “Did you make a bet about me?”

Tsunade pockets the money, looking straight ahead. “Don’t let us stop you.”

“Is this a test?” Obito hurries his pace, craning his neck in an attempt to catch her gaze. “What was the bet?”

Before Tsunade can blow a gasket, Shizune interjects with a diplomatic smile. “What were you saying, Tobi-san?”

Obito’s gaze swivels towards her. “What? Oh. I just have the strangest feeling. Feelings. There’s probably more than one thing, really.” He sniffs. “I missed you guys. Is that weird to say?”

“Yes,” Tsunade replies. A crease forms between Shizune’s brows. Before any of them can say any more on the matter, a weed sprouts from the ground. It trembles, then explodes into a strange fusion of Seymour and Audrey 2. 

“Ah,” Obito snaps. “That was the other thing.”

“So this is where you’ve been,” Zetsu says, looking rather displeased. Both Tsunade and Shizune grow tense. “I can’t help but notice that you don’t carry the scent of these ‘snickerdoodles’ with you.”

“Freaky,” Obito mutters, eyeing each half individually. At their dead-eyed stare, he clears his throat. “It’s an ongoing venture.”

Their head cocks unnaturally. “I’ve kept track of your exploits. You seem to have plenty of new friends.”

Obito pulls on his collar, praying that his traveling companions remain quiet. “Yep. You know me. Always making connections, wherever I go.”

“But thanks to your technique… We’ve always been one step behind. Until now.”

“Oops. Guess I got a little excited.” He flashes what he hopes is a charming smile. It is probably not. “But you’ve found me now. Yay!”

“Why have you been hiding from me?”

“Oh, well. It was hardly hiding,” Obito demurs. “I mean, it wasn’t on purpose. Just, like… cause and effect.” 

Zetsu remains eerily still. “I believe you’ve had enough fun, for now.”

“I see where you’re coming from,” he placates. “But I’m making a lot of progress, for sure. On the whole, uh. You-Know-What.” 

“Do you?” Zetsu asks. “Because it seems you have forgotten.”

“Psh! No way. Forgetting things isn’t my style,” he claims, placing a hand over his heart. It’s a miracle Tsunade doesn’t do so much as twitch. “I’m working on it. Promise!”

“Then you wouldn’t mind coming with us.”

“...I don’t suppose you’re referring to a quick pop-in and out?” Obito tries.

The utterly ridiculous venus flytrap spreads around their neck. “No.”

He slumps. “Yeah. I didn’t think so.”