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It’s rare that Obito finds himself in such a difficult situation.
Rarer still is an enemy that can keep him on his toes for as long as this group has.
He didn’t even bother paying attention when they were introducing themselves — a rather odd thing to do, for sure, but then again a lot of people around the area like their enemy to know who they are before they slit their throats — and he’s regretting it now. If he manages to come out of this with his life, then he will ask them to join the Akatsuki.
Relentless attack after relentless attack prevents Obito from being able to fully utilize Kamui. He resorts to physically dodging the attacks to conserve his time with Kamui, using it when there is absolutely no way he could dodge a combination.
Damn, these kids are good.
One even manages to surprise him, coming up from behind and clocking him right at the back of his head. He grunts and stumbles forward, barely managing to step aside from another fury of attacks.
“You Akatsuki aren’t that impressive after all,” one of them says.
“I’m just a rookie!” Tobi exclaims.
“They’re really letting anyone in, then, huh?” another says. “Their standards must be really low. And here I thought we might sign up.”
Where did these kids even come from? He really wants to know. Whatever village trained these kids, they’re ruthless and Obito would very much like to visit. Their attacks prevent Obito from even striking back and it reminds him of an old saying — attacking is the best defense.
In this case, however, he’s unable to even lift a finger to attack because of the endless shower of fire and wind coming his way.
The bark of a tree digs up behind his back and Obito’s eyes widen. Kamui refuses to respond to him and he realizes that he’s screwed. Eight seconds left.
He glares up at the kid that is rushing up to him, his hand held out — he’s forming some sort of lightning based attack and it reminds Obito awfully a lot of the scene many, many moons ago. Six seconds left.
He is filled with bitterness at the thought. Five seconds left.
The kid comes closer, a blade of lightning formed in his hand and jutted out, ready to plunge into his heart — or whatever that’s left of it. Four seconds left.
Where is Zetsu when you need an artificial human? Three seconds left.
Screw Zetsu, where’s your assigned partner when you need him? Sure, Tobi has never been particularly nice to Deidara, but surely there’s enough between the two of them for the guy to save his sorry ass at least once. Two seconds left.
Obito can practically taste the lightning on his tongue. The kid raises a hand and is already thrusting his fist in his general direction. Obito feels helpless and can only screw his eyes shut.
A wad of familiar chakra flies overhead.
Obito forces his eyes open and glances quickly at the kid. A familiar white spider is latched onto his face and Obito is never more glad to see one of Deidara’s ugly creations — maybe he’ll even learn to appreciate their beauty now. He takes advantage of this lapse in the kid’s speed and manages to activate Kamui just in time to see another shower of Deidara’s white bombs rain overhead, landing on the rest of the gang of kids.
The explosions don’t take him by surprise but the duration is deadly. His Kamui has not recovered enough to last the rest of the attack. Deidara’s a fucking idiot, Obito thinks.
His technique breaks at the last second of the explosion. Obito turns to his side and raises his right hand, forcing the artificial part of his body to take most of the burn.
The remaining second lasts too long. Obito unwittingly lets out a grunt of pain before the final flames lick out of existence.
Unwittingly, Obito slides down against the tree and sits on the ground, covering his masked face with his hands. The air smells of ozone mixed with burnt fabric, hair, and flesh. His head spins.
A brush of wind pets him on the head and he lowers his hands, squinting up against the light.
“Tobi, hm,” comes an exasperated yet worried voice.
When he doesn’t respond immediately, he hears a sigh and a rustle of fabric. A moment later, a hand rests on his right shoulder and Tobi winces. The hand immediately lightens to the point where they’re barely touching.
“You dumb—” and then he cuts himself off as if realizing for the first time that Tobi didn’t run away in time.
Deidara finally comes into view and Obito leans away when he reaches out to gingerly touch his right side, fingers tracing the burnt fabric that reveals the slightly charred flesh. It isn’t until he grasps his wrist that Deidara snaps from whatever trance he’s in — Deidara pulls his hand back and immediately reaches into his cloak, fishing out a wad of bandages.
He doesn’t need it, but Obito sits still without a fuss to let Deidara wrap up most of the burns. When there are no more bandages left, Deidara turns back to stare into his mask — Deidara doesn’t know it but he’s staring right at his eye.
There’s a certain emotion in his eyes that Obito doesn’t dare to name. Instead, Tobi just nods and moves to stand. “I’m okay, senpai,” Tobi says cheerily. “It’s just a flesh wound.”
“Just a flesh wound, hm,” Deidara scoffs. He steps out of the way and Tobi stands, patting himself down. “You need ointment for the burns.”
“It’ll be okay, senpai,” Tobi says. “It’ll be as good as new by tomorrow.”
Deidara looks at him and then shakes his head. He points toward a direction that Obito doesn’t care to think about and says, “there’s an abandoned shack over there. We’re going there, hm.”
“We don’t need to,” says Tobi but he’s not listened to. Deidara grabs his unaffected arm and begins to drag him toward the direction of the abandoned shack.
He might as well just let Deidara play the medic and treat his wounds.
There’s no reason not to.