Chapter Text
The looming gates of Konoha were almost as welcoming as the idea of sleeping in his own bed, Obito considered happily. If his team didn't have to report to the Hokage, Obito would have just Kamui-ed to his apartment.
(Perhaps he was relying on his dōjutsu a bit too much.)
Shaking his head at the errant thought, Obito hurried towards Konoha's entrance. His team followed behind at a sedate pace.
They headed straight for the Hokage tower, Minato nodding to the gate guards and staying behind his students. The walk was anything but relaxing, however. Plaguing his mind was the possible chaos awaiting the boys of his team. Not to doubt Obito’s forethought, but passing the Sharingan to a non-Uchiha would result in a tense, if not hostile meeting with his authoritarian clan. Considering Obito’s unprofessional demeanor, Minato worried the inevitable gathering would end badly.
Worst of all was his inability to help. He could only spectate.
As they passed through the shopping district, Minato noticed several civilians peeking at Obito and Kakashi who were close enough to brush against each other’s arms as they conversed. The close proximity had brought focus to their similarly bandaged left eyes. While wounded shinobi were a familiar sight now, civilians would agree it was unusual for two people to receive the same injury, and watching the whispered exchanges, he knew they were already discussing the possibilities of what had taken place outside the village.
Gossip was an appalling pastime for these people, he mused unhappily, some of his displeasure seeping into the chakra he emitted. The imperceptible amount lightly tugged at the untrained senses, warding off unwanted stares without bringing civilians to their knees. Although the undertones had been curious rather than vicious, it still irritated Minato. Those same whispers condemned Kushina for the creature she harbored for their protection and spurred Hatake Sakumo’s spiraling depression.
Shinobi like Sakumo and Kushina, although originating from distinguished clans, lived within the civilian districts. They were confronted by the harsh, shallow opinions of villagers daily, and when the attention was imbued with negativity, they understandably broke from the pressure, or fought back with a rebellious, mischievous attitude.
Reminded of his girlfriend and Kakashi’s father, he was relieved when they reached the Hokage’s office.
Before Minato opened the doors, his oldest student shouted. Obito was touching his hitai-ate with a pitiful face.
Rin touched his shoulder. “Obito...?”
“It's terrible! My goggles, they’re gone!”
“And you just now noticed,” sighed Kakashi.
Minato interrupted before a potential argument could break out. Unlikely, as they were now friends, but he doubted the urge to antagonize each other had entirely vanished. “You could buy some new ones, Obito.”
Obito acquiesced, “Yeah, you're right. It just really sucks.”
With a hushed chuckle, Minato opened the doors for his team, following them from the back.
The Sandaime pushed his current document aside and offered a bland smile, the exhaust in his eyes more pronounced than before his team had departed. He had hopes the destruction of the bridge would lighten the man’s stress, but with the six tall piles of paperwork ready for analysis and signing, Minato reconsidered his expectation. And not forgetting the development of Obito’s dōjutsu… Minato loved his team, but sometimes, he wished they were a little less trouble.
“Team Minato returning from a mission. The destruction of Kannabi Bridge is a success, Hokage-sama.”
There was a slight pause before his superior breathed out, “I thank you, Team Minato, for your hard work. With the bridge destroyed, Iwagakure will be disadvantaged for some time. Perhaps the war will fall into our favor...” he uttered thoughtfully, and Minato's nerves doubled when he narrowed in on Obito and Kakashi standing in front of him, Rin between them with shaky hands bunching her apron.
Rin had noticed too then. She startled when the Hokage spoke again.
“Kakashi-kun, congratulations for a successful mission as Jōnin captain. I expect similar results in the future.” Hearing the praise, his youngest student relaxed his tense shoulders. He bowed for a few, respectful seconds.
His team was dismissed afterwards, bar himself.
Just as Obito stepped out of the room, Minato advised, “Have a good rest, Obito.”
The Uchiha, without a glance back, casually replied, “That’s the plan.”
Minato deliberately closed the doors with the sloth of a Nara, wishing he was anywhere but here. He severely lacked knowledge in matters of the Uchiha, his long-time friendship with Uchiha Fugaku insuring Minato’s complete ignorance. Before he understood his future role as the Uchiha clan head, Fugaku adhered to his clan’s demand for isolation from outsiders. Had they not met as children, Minato doubted they would have ever become close friends, because after all these years, not once had he been allowed passed the Uchiha compound gates, not even for Fugaku’s wedding to Mikoto that had him cracking smiles every hour, breaking records across the board.
Point was, he was hesitant to divulge anything about Obito’s evolved Sharingan to the Sandaime. He feared it would threaten his relationship with Fugaku, because if the Uchiha elders were aware of the Mangekyō’s existence, they would be displeased to know Minato had leaked information to an outsider, let alone the most influential leader of Konoha.
However, he had sworn an oath long ago. His loyalty was bound to the hierarchy of this village. Full disclosure was his obligation as a shinobi.
Silently exhaling, he faced Sarutobi Hiruzen with a poised façade as he briefed an oral, detailed mission report, steering clear of the Mangekyō’s reveal until the very end when he had no choice. With forced reticence, Minato revealed its existence along with the expressly forbidden transplant of an Uchiha’s dōjutsu.
But rather than surprise or alarm, the Sandaime looked resigned and fatigued, the slight wrinkles around his eyes and mouth growing more distinct. There was a long, awkward silence as his superior reached into his desk compartment, extracting his pipe and a box of matches, preparing himself a stress-relieving smoke. As a grey cloud floated from the bowl, he moved from his seat and began looking out the window, his free hand fisted behind his back.
Minato fidgeted when he felt safe from scrutiny, only to painfully straighten when the Hokage sighed and muttered, “I'm getting too old for this,” before dismissing him.
Outside the Hokage's Tower, Rin sprinted towards the housing district after waving goodbye to her teammates. Once she was out of view, Obito removed his hitai-ate and rubbed his forehead.
Kakashi settled a hand on his shoulder. “You only worry her more by pretending nothing is wrong.”
He respected the hard glint in Obito's eye as he replied, “Nothing will be wrong if everything goes my way.” The lowered tone held a promise difficult to doubt, but Kakashi still felt uneasy. He tried picturing the Uchiha clan with accepting smiles, but seeing as Obito was the sole Uchiha who seemed to smile, his imagination floundered.
“That's why,” Kakashi stepped back in surprise when Obito suddenly looked at him with a firm frown, “I don't want you to ever ask me to take the eye back, no matter what. The Sharingan is yours now. It's not mine anymore, okay?”
The abrasive glare reminded him of when Obito punched him, after Rin had been kidnapped. A phantom pain flared along his cheek where Obito's knuckles had slammed right into the bone. Resisting the urge to rub his cheekbone, Kakashi assured him. “I won’t. Besides, rejecting a gift is poor etiquette.”
“Well, I'm not sure about etiquette, but thanks.” Obito smiled gratefully.
He shook his head, though the action was too exaggerated to be taken serious. “I'd expect nothing less from you.”
“Oi, oi.” Obito pouted, crossing his arms. “When you spend most of your time breaking the rules of your overbearing clan, then you can tell me all about etiquette one-o-one, Bakashi.”
Kakashi let loose a quiet chuckle, turning to leave for his apartment. He paused and said, “Thank you… Obito.”
Then he walked away, feeling lighter than he could remember, like he was floating in air. It was rather nice, Kakashi thought, despite the prospect of hateful sneers in his near future.
As Obito watched Kakashi's back disappear into a crowd of civilians, he pondered over his blood family.
The Uchiha was an arrogant clan, filled with self-righteous people that considered the Sharingan to be the superior dōjutsu. Allowing an outsider to possess one was a grievous act against the clan, an action warranting prosecution. Added to that was his renouncement of clan loyalty. For the Uchiha, loyalty to the clan was everything, and going against that was treason.
The night he decided to bequeath his left eye, Obito knew he would be sacrificing his once chance at acceptance after finally activating the Sharingan. By offering the clan's treasure to an outsider, he had established loyalty to Kakashi over his family. He didn’t regret it, though. He valued his friends more than the family who shunned him.
Free from his team's scrutiny, Obito dropped his façade. His set shoulders slumped and the smile on his face twisted into a grimace.
He had done his best to calm his team’s concern by feigning confidence, undaunted by the possible backlash. Truthfully, he had condemned himself to an examination under the Uchiha Council of Elders, and that was utterly terrifying.
Contrary to public opinion, he was not an idiot. Obito knew what lengths the council would go to force Obito's obedience. Be it through manipulation, or by threatening his or Kakashi's life, perhaps even banishing him from the Uchiha clan, stripping Obito of his name and honor. Maybe they would revoke his shinobi status, regardless of the Sandaime Hokage’s authority.
Either way, he was in trouble with no one to turn to… except…
Obito almost slapped his forehead.
Instead, he tied his hitai-ate back in place and headed for Konoha’s shopping district on quick feet.
There was one Uchiha he could go to for help, an elderly woman who was once a council member before resigning to start up a shop supplied with shinobi and civilian items. She had been a formidable kunoichi in her youth, awakening her Sharingan at seven and achieving Jōnin status by ten. She was an eminent figure, no surprise to have been elected into the council, and it was her insight into politics he needed.
Although Uchiha Mayu was the only elder to accept his extroverted nature, she also considered their dōjutsu to be a sacred possession. If she rejected him for passing his Sharingan to Kakashi, he would be devastated.
Obito reached his destination and grinned.
Mayu's shop was three-stories high, the bottom floor stocked with civilian clothing and everyday items, while the second level provided shinobi with customized weapons and apparel. The top floor was specially designed for the Uchiha, Mayu tailoring attire appropriate for their clan, including high collars and the Uchiwa fan stitched to the back of shirts. She had been responsible for his current outfit, to his relief, as no other Uchiha shopkeeper would sell him clothes bearing the clan’s crest.
He entered her store, the wind chime overhead singing as the sphere-shaped clapper, consisting of red and white bells, tapped against the silver rods jailing it.
“I'll be with you in a minute!” a feminine voice called out.
Exactly a minute later, an old woman with pure white hair, done up in a loose bun, gracefully strolled out from the backroom with hands folded in front of her waist. Her refined smile smoothed the wrinkles along her forehead and cheeks, and accentuated the lines around her detached, obsidian eyes. Her ingrained formality was forgotten when she caught sight of his damaged appearance.
Mayu cupped the bandaged side of his face, frowning. “What happened, Obito-kun?”
Obito glanced around the store for listening ears. Uneasy even after seeing the empty room, he requested, “Mayu-obāsama, could we talk in the back? It's a long story, and I really need your advice.”
She stared for a tense moment, and then chided him. “Must you persist in calling me that, Obito-kun? It's Mayu-bāchan. Remember it.”
“Ah-” She walked away before he could respond, disappearing into the backroom again.
Obito sighed nervously and followed behind her.
Inside was a small living space, two chairs facing each other with a little table in-between. He used to visit here as an Academy student, venting to his elder about his classmates’ derisive attitudes. Mayu comforted Obito each time he wavered, holding him and rubbing his back whenever he cried – angry yelling in the case of his clan’s constant scorn – and would offer him candy after he calmed.
Honestly, if he had been without Mayu or the civilian elders, Obito knew he would be no different than the typical Uchiha. That was why he arrived late to missions, to help those who saved him from self-destruction. He was incapable of refusing their many requests.
Before they sat down, she glanced at his chest. “Who are the flowers from?”
The random query threw him off. He bent his head to gaze at the bouquet in his hands, put together by Kakashi with Rin’s assistance. Since then, Obito held the assortment to his chest, preferring to keep it in hand rather than stuffing it in his pack. He forgot he was holding it this whole time.
Obito smiled and replied, “A friend, as a thank you gift. And-” he placed the flowers beside his belongings on the floor, “-that's kind of what I wanted to discuss with you.”
Mayu narrowed her eyes and nodded, gesturing toward the chairs where they settled.
He swallowed apprehensively before finally fessing up to what he had done. By the end of his confession, Obito realized he had nothing to fear, as Mayu did not reject him.
She did call him stupid, however…
“You stupid boy, do you realize how much trouble you're in? I might not condemn you like the rest of our obstinate clan will, but that doesn't mean I'll delude you into believing everything will be peachy tomorrow. Luckily for you, Sarutobi-sama knows of the Mangekyō Sharingan. We would be troubled, otherwise.”
Obito kept his head bowed, more out of cowardice than respect, to avoid a direct lashing towards his person. He felt special though, whenever she relinquished her natural composure. Mayu maintained a cold façade no matter who she interacted with, appearances of utmost importance. And in the past, it had been all she cared about.
She had once been his watcher, making weekly trips to his apartment and ensuring he was living adequately. Back then, she criticized his “feeble” personality and began teaching him the proper manners of an Uchiha elite. He had despised her for this imposition, for trying to mold him into a respectable member of the clan – be refined and meticulous, be respectful to the Uchiha hierarchy, curb trivial emotions – and each time he rebelled, she would lock him in a small closet shrouded in darkness.
It was absolute hell.
But as her momentary guardianship came to an end, Mayu changed.
Obito did not know for certain why she stopped her reinforcement, let alone willingly resigned from the council. All he could remember from then was his eventual breakdown, when he was left sobbing and begging for Mayu’s forgiveness after her most brutal session, calling him a failure and disgrace to the Uchiha clan.
Pleasing Mayu had been an impossibility, he had realized, because he enjoyed socializing with his team and treasured his emotional freedom.
Sealing away his emotions would have been akin to killing him.
And Mayu, raised from birth to be another perfect Uchiha, had dropped her own, carefully sown mask of indifference. No one else had witnessed her kinder side (no one still living, at least). She was a woman with the likeness of a grandmother which Obito appreciated during his struggles, and he considered it unfair she had been conditioned to suppress her caring nature.
As he remembered his past with Mayu, seething hate for his clan began to fester inside him. His fists clenched, thinking of the council: their arrogance and useless pride, their loathing for anyone outside the clan, their demand for perfection, and so much hate that he just wanted to-
Arms wrapped around his neck and the toxic, pent-up emotion steadily receded. Obito shuddered in Mayu's embrace. He could suddenly sense his chakra converging behind his sole eye, that new but familiar sensation of the Mangekyō Sharingan.
The agonizing burn he once associated with the Mangekyō had vanished, an overwhelming rush of euphoria taking its place.
Obito could only describe it as raw power.
Mayu pulled back and leaned against the table. Obito didn't recall her moving away from her seat, so engrossed in his baleful thoughts. The elder bit her bottom lip, and as apprehension darkened her eyes, he flinched. She seemed frightened by something. Mayu muttered just loud enough to hear, “I prayed not… but I was wrong.”
“Bāchan...?” Obito trailed off when she took his hands, covering them with her own.
Her obsidian eyes were glistening. “Obito-kun, I must confess, this dōjutsu... has caused much grief throughout our history.” Mayu’s hands retreated from his own as she said, “Uncontrollable hatred and emotional agony is cast upon us as the Sharingan progresses.”
Obito bowed his head and clenched at the fabric of his pants as he tried processing the foreboding information, but Mayu was quick to continue without giving him time to breathe. “Our youth learns the Sharingan awakens at a moment of emotional distress. However, they are unaware of its final evolution, the true existence of the Mangekyō Sharingan.”
There was a soft shuffle, and when he glanced up, Mayu had returned to her seat, staring intensely at her folded hands with a faraway glaze. “It was not always portrayed as fiction, Obito. Long ago, the Mangekyō was hailed as a gift from the gods watching over the Uchiha clan. And today, the elders of our clan consider it as a tool for power, which they so greedily desire. It is quite… distasteful.”
Mayu's own dōjutsu activated as a hateful scowl morphed her usually calming face. She seemed to realize the slip, smoothing her expression after seeing Obito recoil. “They were, up until twenty years ago, attempting to unlock the Mangekyō Sharingan in many clansmen, be they children or adults, planning to strengthen the clan.”
A certain word caught his attention, having been spoken with blatant disgust. “What do you mean by 'attempting'?”
“Experimentation would be more appropriate for what they were doing.” She hesitated, a faraway look in her eyes. “Emotional distress develops and evolves the Sharingan from one tomoe to three. That is an undisputed fact. So they believed that to achieve a greater form of the dōjutsu...” Mayu trailed off and smiled bitterly.
“Fear. Loss. Sacrifice. Death. Murder... those five elements were thought to be the secret to unlocking the Mangekyō Sharingan.”
A sense of foreboding passed through Obito, freezing him in place. She couldn't be saying-
“Fear for one's life, loss of relationships, sacrifice or death of a loved one, the act of murder onto another... those were the methods attempted, and none had been successful. And despite that, the elders – my peers – would not stop. Many lives were lost during these inhumane trials, and with how isolated we had become, no one outside of the clan knew of the horrors taking place inside Konoha’s walls.”
Obito slammed his hands on the table. “But why?!” his voice cracked. Nausea washed over him as he imagined losing his team, or Kami forbid, murdering them with his own hands. It wasn't worth it- these stupid eyes were not worth it!
Her face was grim. “I told you before, Obito-kun. Power.” Mayu lifted a hand, palm facing Obito to halt his response. “It began with Konoha's conception. Uchiha Madara of the Uchiha clan, and Senju Hashirama of the Senju clan founded Konohagakure. The position of Hokage was between the two founders, and by election of the people, Hashirama became the Shodaime. Shodaime-sama had intended Madara to become Nidaime, but as you know, no Uchiha has ever been chosen as Hokage.”
She paused and appeared to consider adding something before shaking her head.
“Time passed, and resentment festered. The Uchiha who lived during Shodaime-sama's and Nidaime-sama's rule remember, with great clarity, the mounting distrust of their fellow villagers. The compound we currently reside in was subsequently built. Most elders, excluding myself and few others, sought the Mangekyō Sharingan's power to seize control of Konoha, to restore what they believed was their prerogative.”
Obito settled back in his seat with hands entangling in his hair, elbows resting on his knees and back curved in an uncomfortable slouch.
This was almost too much information to digest all at once, and the clan elders he had worked so hard to impress as a little kid were turning out to be corrupt and without a decent shred of humanity. He didn't want to listen anymore, but he needed to understand the severity of his situation.
“Nearly twenty years ago, the younger generations fought against the council's goal of taking over the village. Too many Uchiha were being sacrificed for a power they had no desire to wield. Majority ruled, and the practice of forcefully awakening the Mangekyō Sharingan was deemed a forbidden act. Though as you are already aware, its existence was not completely erased.”
Mayu concluded with a weary sigh. “...The Uchiha clan is unworthy of admiration or praise, that which is so given by our youngest generations. Our history is nothing but spilt blood, Obito-kun, because of these damnable eyes.”
His senior wilted before him, a grimace pulling at her loose skin, red eyes haunted – yet, somehow demonic... Obito couldn't suppress his sudden abhorrence – and her brows heavily furrowed.
A desperate need to escape had Obito standing, but rather than fleeing from the shop like he wanted, Obito's feet guided him to a body-length mirror sitting in the corner of her backroom. He stared at his own face, regarding the reflection as he would a frightened animal. He was shaking uncontrollably, teeth and fists clenched so tight his jaw began to ache and his nails began to draw blood. His skin was pasty and nearly the shade of Rin's medical bandages. And most unnerving was his eye. The crimson color was practically glowing, the black pinwheel spinning frantically and emphasizing the insanity whirling within him. The pounding in his chest and temples was excruciating and loud, and why-?
“Why are you telling me this?” he choked out, a palm concealing his eye.
Obito waited for what seemed like hours, screaming in his head if only to avoid thinking at all.
Mayu's voice cut through like a sword. “The Sharingan has changed most good men and women... into hateful, selfish human beings, Obito.” There was no warmth added to his name. Obito glided to the floor, putting his back against the mirror. Mayu walked up to Obito and sat across from him on her knees. Her movements were slow and pained, and for a moment, Obito wanted to lead her back to the comfort of a chair.
Mayu's red glare kept him in place.
“I have seen it time and again, watching those I care about become people I no longer recognize. I've seen the most compassionate Uchiha become greedy, self-righteous bastards in a blink of an eye, and others so gradual, you wouldn't notice the change without seeing them every day. And it always follows after the Sharingan awakens.”
Obito unconsciously leaned forward. “How can... how can you be sure...?” he asked with hesitancy.
In an abrupt move, Mayu reached up toward his face and pulled down the edge of his bandage near his left cheek. With a baffled wide eye, he followed the unraveling gauze to his lap. She lifted his chin so he was staring at her dōjutsu again. Unexpected flashes flickered before him, of a little girl swiftly dealing killing blows to enemy shinobi, her eyes shining red with tears. As the dead collapsed, they molded to a cold obsidian lacking life. He blinked, and Mayu was before him again, her hand off his chin and on the closed lid of his missing eye. She opened the empty socket with her thumb and frowned.
It was strange for Obito. He had never been capable of closing one eye without the other following, but with one gone, the left eyelid automatically shut without encouraging the right. Mayu's finger was the only thing keeping it open.
Obito clutched her wrist and softly said, “That was you.”
Mayu nodded as she slid out of his hold. “...I know it's the Sharingan from my own experience. I unlocked my Sharingan after the defeat of my comrades, losing myself in the process. I was just like you, Obito,” she admitted. “I still had my innocence. I was carefree and happy... but after that failed mission, something inside me changed. It was suddenly easier to be selfish, thinking only of myself. Fighting only for myself. No one else mattered anymore.”
Her Sharingan flared. “It was easier feeling hatred, for my family who tried controlling my destiny, and for the friends who continuously got between me and my goals, or at least, that was how I viewed the world then. I pushed everyone I loved away.”
Obito could feel remnants of that hatred radiate from Mayu's taut form. It was stifling and scarily familiar... and he finally understood the embrace she had previously forced on him. He had nearly succumbed to his own hatred – a vile emotion he could not recall having before today – for the clan elders. She must have seen it in his eye when it spiraled into the Mangekyō.
Her looks of fear and apprehension was branded into his memory.
“And you think the same thing will happen to me, don't you?” Obito dreaded the idea of surrendering to hatred, or anything of the sort. He may have wanted to be considered a part of the Uchiha clan, but Obito had always fought to remain true to himself. Acceptance was pointless if he had to abandon his compassion or general happiness.
His feelings for Rin were because of this. She never expected him to become another person, accepting Obito for who he was. Rin believed in him and his dreams, cheering him on and helping any way she could. Rin was the first person to acknowledge him, a very precious friend.
Mayu placed a hand over his heart, a grieved frown stretching her lips. “I'm afraid it's a likely result, Obito. And with the Mangekyō Sharingan, I fear it's inevitable.” She sounded so confident, certain of his future, as if the Uchiha Obito she knew was already gone.
Her response angered Obito more than anything ever had. Did she really believe him to be that weak?
“You're wrong,” he calmly stated, contrary to the boiling rage he felt stirring. Obito wouldn't let it control him. “I mean no disrespect, Mayu-bāchan, but I am not weak.” He stressed this as passionately as possible, taking Mayu's extended hand and returning it to her lap. “If the Sharingan truly corrupts our clan as you believe, then I will fight and conquer it.”
Obito placed a fist on his chest. “I'll master my Sharingan and remain Uchiha Obito, a loyal shinobi of Konohagakure. And that is a promise.”
Mayu stared impassively, her dōjutsu wandering from the closed hand forming his promise sign, to Obito's face that exuded unwavering resolve. Her scrutiny ended as Mayu sighed and reached for the gauze she had removed, beginning to re-bandage his left socket. Obito startled when she replied.
“You have become my most important person, Obito-kun. Losing you to this cursed cycle would break me, so you better keep your promise.”
Mayu pulled away once she finished with the bandage and smiled, her dōjutsu deactivating. Obito returned a broad grin, his arm rubbing the back of his head in a bashful manner. Mayu put a leg forward with hands on her bent knee, and then pushed herself up, the younger Uchiha immediately standing to assist her to her feet, considerate as always. She gratefully patted his shoulder before walking to the door leading back into the store.
Obito touched the cotton material around his head and whispered to himself. “I promise, Mayu-bāchan. I promise.”
For Mayu. For himself. And for his team.