Chapter Text
Bloodshot onyx eyes snapped open.
With a gasp, Obito unconsciously threw the covers forward harshly and sat up, breathing heavily. He scans the room frantically, but all he sees is pitch black darkness. He gulps, his developing Adam's apple slightly bobbing. Beads of sweat trickle down his face as he strains his ears to listen to any sounds.
Where the hell was he? He tries to remember the events prior to waking up. His head throbs dully.
He remembers trembling earth, disorientation, and panic.
He remembers running. Panting. Holding Kakashi’s hand as he tugged him along.
“Obito… I can’t…”
He remembers Kakashi’s clammy hand slipping off his own.
He remembers Kakashi falling to the cold hard ground, the cave ceiling above them threatening to break.
Obito skids to a halt, turning around immediately. He runs to Kakashi with an outstretched hand.
“Kakashi, get up! Quickly! Take my hand!”
He remembers begging Kakashi to take his hand. He remembers being extremely desperate. The feeling creeps up to him again. He involuntarily shivers, not liking it one bit.
Kakashi shook his head weakly, eyes downcast, breathing with difficulty. His coughs wrack his lithe frame, and wheezed out his next sentence.
“… Just go, Obito. Leave me! Go!”
“ I won’t! I will never!! I already lost Rin; I can’t lose you too!” He yells at Kakashi with no hesitation.
Before Kakashi could protest, the ceiling gave out. It was like everything moved in slow motion. Running on pure adrenaline, he grabs Kakashi’s now ruined haori and hurls him with all his might to safety.
He hears a scream, then deafening silence.
The last thing he saw was Kakashi’s teary and terrified face.
Obito’s heart clenches painfully at the memory.
Confident footsteps echoing throughout the room tears him back to his senses. Suddenly, he is on high alert, clutching the blankets that pooled at his midsection.
In a moment of absolute stupidity, he yells.
“WHO’S THERE!?”
The footsteps continued, not even stopping at his outburst. His eyes start to adjust to the darkness. He can somewhat see a bit better, seeing movement somewhere in front of him.
A few moments later, an man appears before him, though he can barely see his face. Whatever the man was wearing, it was all dark clothing. Obito assumes he has long graying hair that covers half of his face.
“Who are you? Where am I? What did you do to me?” Obito demands. He’s scared out of his mind, but he forced himself to swallow his fear.
The mysterious man chuckles lowly. “A lively one, aren’t you?”
Obito frowns. His shoulders sag a bit, at least, what he thought was his shoulders. He feels something is… off. He slowly turns his head to look at his right shoulder.
Or what was left of it. His whole right arm was gone, thick bandages wrapped around his right side.
Obito couldn’t suppress a shout of surprise and disbelief. He gingerly pokes at his right side. He hisses, retracting his left hand as if burned. He desperately wishes his memory of Kakashi was just a bad dream, but the feeling of pain, physically and emotionally, just proved he was living in reality.
“It was a miracle you were still alive when I found you. It was incredible that those boulders did not crush you. It was almost as if you passed right through them.”
Obito’s head snaps back to the mysterious man that had yet to introduce himself. He completely forgot he was there.
“Old man… did you… save me?”
The man crossed his arms and scoffed, a bit irritated. “I am not old. I am 72 years old.”
“Sooo… old man.”
The “old man” sighed. “Half of your body has been mostly crushed, I patched you up as best as I could for now.”
“Oh… uh.. thank you, gramps…” Obito jolts in realization.
I can’t believe I forgot about Kakashi! Is he okay??!!
“I’m really grateful for your help, old man, but did you see a silver haired kid around my age?!” He all but shouts.
“Pipe down, child. I did not see anyone else besides you.”
“Are you absolutely sure?! Did you check the whole area?!?” Obito could not live with himself if his best friend did not survive. Kakashi had a better life to live than him, the scum of the Uchiha.
Unlike him, Kakashi is intelligent, well-mannered, and important. He lives a prestigious life, being a daimyo ’s only son. He was always pampered and swarmed by servants.
He grits his teeth. If only he hadn’t persuaded Kakashi to come with him to Kannabi Bridge…
“I am not going to repeat myself.”
Obito relaxes a bit at these words. At least the old man didn’t see him. That was good news, right? He hopes it is. He hopes Kakashi made it back to his home safely. Is Kakashi still thinking about him? Did he go look for him? Did he tell the other Uchihas about him?
Obito’s expression soured.
No. His clan would not care.
Whatever. As long as Kakashi is safe.
“Then… What am I still doing here? And who are you?” Obito asks his savior’s name for the third time.
“Always talking in circles. If it matters so much to you, my name is Madara. You are still here because I have a plan I must carry out, and I need you to help me with it.”
Obito processed the information slowly. He doesn’t answer for a full minute before stuttering.
“M-ma-madara? Y-you mean… THE Madara Uchiha?”
“So, this generation of Uchihas still know who I am…”
Obito pales.
Madara Uchiha. Even he knew who Madara was.
Obito did not get very good education due to him being an orphan and being partially ostracized by his clan due to his incompetence and softness; a trait that is frowned upon in his bloodline. The Uchihas were talented, arrogant, calculating and proud. He was none of those.
Madara, who was referred to as unironically, the disgrace and pinnacle of the Uchiha. Madara, the man that was so magically gifted that peasants, merchants, and even the daimyos and samurais line up outside the Uchiha compound to beg him for his help with the impossible. Uchiha Madara, who was the reason a war broke out half a century ago for unspeakable crimes. Madara, who was the reason why the current Hokage had the Uchiha on a short leash and watched their every move. Madara, who was presumed dead after a bloody battle with the Hokage at the time, Hashirama Senju, some 50 years ago. That very same Madara, casually conversing with him.
If anyone told him that he would sort of die and meet Madara Uchiha today, he’d rather believe in his dream to become the next Hokage to be more feasible.
“H-how did you know? That I’m an Uchiha?”
Madara doesn’t answer immediately. He slowly lights the two candles on both his sides with a wave of his hand before making his way to the younger’s futon then sits down agura style. With some light illuminating the room, Obito finally sees that the room he’s in isn’t actually a room at all. It was a cave, but a pretty well maintained one. He thanks Kami for that, because he’d rather not have another go in a collapsing cave.
Madara reaches for a mug next to Obito’s head that Obito wasn’t even aware of, and pours tea into it gracefully.
For a moment, he thought Madara was going to give him the mug. He is feeling rather parched. He was about to thank Madara but was glad he was able to stop himself when Madara drank the tea nonchalantly.
Obito’s throat feels itchy. He swallows his saliva, trying to soothe the annoying sensation.
The older man exhales softly, pointing at a tattered yukata at the foot of his futon .
“Your pitiful yukata displays the Uchiha crest.”
Obito’s eyes follow Madara’s pointed finger. The said yukata has seen better days. It was so worn that the material was thin and the navy blue color was faded. The Uchiha crest was barely visible, but it was still noticeable. The right side was understandably ruined, dried blood tainting the fabric to the point where you can’t tell if the original color was a copper brown or blue.
“Old man, I mean… Madara…” Obito begins, a little cautious, and a lot nervous. “I appreciate your help really, but… after I’m all healed, I need to go back to the village. I swear I won’t tell anyone about you!”
He can feel his heart hammering in his chest. Madara could easily cut him down where he sat incapacitated if he wanted to. He needed to choose his words carefully if he wanted to see the light of day again.
“You won’t be needing any healing. What you need to know is that you are indebted to me. And I intend for you to work hard to repay that debt in full.” Madara says.
Obito shifts uneasily. “What do I have to do?”
Madara smiled, small and sinister.
“I need you to be my servant, my right-hand man, and my scapegoat. Devote your whole life to me.”
Kakashi sniffled for the nth time today.
After his best friend heroically threw him out of harm’s way, the idiot had gone and gotten himself crushed by tons of boulders.
The silver haired boy immediately dove for the boulders in the aftermath of the cave collapse, scratching and pulling at the humongous stones to no avail. He didn’t stop, not even when his delicate fingers got bloodied, scratched, trembling and uncomfortable from exerting his lightning magic. His throat was hoarse from screaming Obito’s name, hoping to hear his annoying, cheerful voice telling him that he’s fine.
Tears pricked his eyes, cursing his weak constitution. He glared at the offending rock. He couldn’t even break one boulder. He furiously wipes his eyes with his dirty haori sleeve.
Why had Obito saved him? He had much more in life to accomplish.
He is useless and a burden. He had no particular ambition or dream. He is not physically strong, as a proper man should be. His father doesn’t even want him to practice elemental magic or wield a katana , in fear that Kakashi would hurt himself as he was born with a weak and sickly body. He wasn’t usually a disobedient child, but he had been sneaking away with Obito for the past couple of years to do lightning magic and basic swordsmanship. It was only when training and spending time with the raven did he feel alive and free. He had picked up Obito’s bad habit of breaking rules.
How was he going to live without his ray of happiness?
Does he just go back again to staring off outside his bedroom window?
Fueled by this thought, Kakashi immediately gets back to work, chipping away at a boulder. The sun had set, a cool breeze accompanied him in his quest. Kakashi had felt him running low on mana about an hour ago, so he’s sure his clone magic had worn off at home. It won’t be long before his father finds out he was never at home to begin with, and scour the whole Land of Fire looking for him. He had no time to waste.
His whole body ached, wanting to rest. He had never exerted himself this much in his whole life, and he feels like he is about to pass out at any second. Obito is the only reason why his consciousness is holding on. His arms are working on autopilot, not stopping even if his muscles burned. His vision blurs— from his tears or his consciousness fading, he doesn’t know. Maybe both.
A coughing fit prompts Kakashi to clumsily tug down his mask with one hand. He jerks forward, coughing his lungs out. Feeling some sort of liquid trickle down his chin, he wipes it off and opens one bleary eye to see what it was. Blood smeared his once pristine white sleeve.
Ah… this is my limit… The young Hatake thinks, losing consciousness. No… please, just a bit more time…
He barely registers the sound of galloping horses and shouting men heading his way.
I’m sorry… Obito…
Kakashi stumbles before passing out, dropping to the ground, the darkness swallowing him. He was out cold by the time the horses and men arrived, the voice of a man’s blood-curdling cry cutting through the forest as he clutched the young boy’s seemingly lifeless body.
Sakumo Hatake wailed as he held his son’s body gingerly, fearing the boy would break like glass if he ever so much as held him a little too tightly.
He had lost so many— his wife, his friends, his comrades; he could not lose his only son, the one blessing his wife had left him before her departure into the afterlife.
He had never seen Kakashi in such a state. He always made sure his Kakashi was well cared for, fed with the best food, bathed in luxury, had the best tutors and clothed in the most expensive and expertly woven kimono that fit him just right . Despite being spoiled so rotten, his 11 year old was never condescending or haughty, nor demanded anything from him or the servants at home. He is a humble, quiet and introverted boy who always listened to his father. Kakashi is Sakumo’s pride and joy.
His heart hurts looking at his precious boy, all bloodied and bruised, impossibly paler than he normally is.
“Hatake-sama… the medic is here.” His subordinate nervously informs him. They had never seen their Lord break down like this, after all. He was always calm and collected, and kept his personal life separate from his work.
“Good… please be gentle…” Sakumo’s voice cracks.
The medic, Tsunade, bows, kneeling in front of him and Kakashi. A soft, green light emits from her palms, carefully going over Kakashi’s whole body.
Sakumo watches anxiously. After what seems like an eternity, the medic clears her throat.
“Kakashi-sama is not in mortal danger. However, he has mana exhaustion, and his mana circuits are fried. He will need to stop using magic for an extended period of time, or he will risk his health and ability to produce magic. His body is also terribly overworked and stressed. It could not keep up, hence throwing up blood. He will need plenty of bedrest. I have healed his external wounds, but it seems like he has underlying wounds that can not be treated by my healing magic,”
Sakumo is taken aback. Mana exhaustion??? But he has never taught Kakashi a single thing about magic usage! Who on earth would dare to go against his orders to do so?! Ignoring this for now, he is angered by the medic’s lack of proficiency. What was the point of employing the best medics if they could not fully heal his son?
“What do you mean by underlying wounds? How can they not be treated?!” Sakumo growls.
Tsunade regarded him calmly. “What I mean, Hatake-sama, is that mental and emotional wounds simply cannot be healed by magic.”
Obito’s mind raced. Servant? Right-hand man?? Scapegoat????
“A… scapegoat?”
Madara nods. “You live alone and the Uchiha do not care about you, am I correct? No one would miss you if you were gone. You haven’t even awoken your Mirror Wheel Eye. You are a nobody.”
Ouch. Madara doesn’t beat around the bush or sugarcoat words. He hates that he’s right. The young Uchiha clenches his fists so hard his knuckles turn white.
“I am not, however.” Madara rises to his feet. Obito’s eyes follow his movement, and soon, Obito is craning his neck up to meet his ancestor’s visible eye, swirling into a red color. It eerily glows in the dimly lit cave, giving the young Uchiha a sense of foreboding and unease. “I saved you. You owe me. So now, you must do everything I say.”
“I didn’t ask to be saved… but I did thank you, because I can still see Kakashi this way…” Obito frowns. He hesitates, lower lip trembling. He feels so scared. Did he even have a choice? He was in the presence of a legendary and feared man, known for manslaughter, various yokai and spirits at his command, controlled and manipulated. He was an unforgiving storm that swept the Land of Fire, until the first Hokage defeated him in battle. A word against such a dangerous individual meant certain death, and he knows he won’t ever see Kakashi again if that happened.
Can he even be free again?
“I’ll do what you want me to do.” With those words, the teen felt his fate was sealed.
Madara grunts in approval. “Good. I’m a bit disappointed you didn’t put up a fight, I would have loved to force you to submit.”
Obito tenses up.
“Kidding.” Madara says dryly. The older man inwardly relishes in the fearful look he is given. “By the way… I can’t restore your right side unless I turn you into a yokai . Call it one of my many powers. So you must be fully prepared to “die”. This is non negotiable.”
“Wait… what do you mean… die ? You saved me only to kill me?? Oh, Kami-sama , HELP MEE!” Obito starts yelling at the top of his lungs.
The old Uchiha sighed, massaging his temple.
“There is no other way. You will indeed die, but worry not for I will keep you grounded to the mortal realm. Making you into a yokai will do just that. You will still retain your memories and powers, although the latter will be significantly amplified, and you will gain additional powers based on the yokai you will turn out to be.”
Obito slowly calmed down.
Him? A yokai ???
The thought honestly didn’t bother him too much after the explanation; he was a nobody, as Madara put it. He is an orphan that no one bothers with. He lives alone, he pulls pranks around the village, infuriating everyone. No one gave him the time of day, the adults in the Uchiha clan would look at him like he was something nasty under your shoe. No one would care if he had suddenly disappeared.
No one but Kakashi.
“That doesn’t sound so bad,” Obito smirks. “Do I get really really reallyyyy strong magic?”
“Naturally.” Madara says in a bored tone.
The teen practically glows. Him! Having magic beyond his wildest dreams! His fire magic right now is pathetic— he is absolutely delighted that he will finally become stronger. If only the Uchiha Clan could see him. This’ll show them!
This way, I can protect Kakashi better, Obito thinks happily. He could not wait to return to the village in secret. He only imagined how fearful the villagers would be to see him all creature-like and gross. He prayed he wouldn’t turn into a disgusting looking yokai . No offense.
“Old man Madara! I accept your terms!” Obito shouts without thinking too much, too overcome with joy at all the pros of him turning into some supernatural being.
“Of course you do. Not like you had any other choice. I will turn you into a yokai in a few days.”
Obito groans. “That long?! But this room is so boringgg! At least give me something to do! Do you have a koma ? I’m actually the best koma player in the village right now! Well, at least in my age group—“ The enthusiastic boy started to ramble, completely forgetting about his previous complaint.
Madara’s patience started to wear thin. This is why he did not like interacting with loud, rambunctious children.
“I will leave Zetsu, Guru-Guru and Rin with you. They will keep you company. Ask them for anything.” Madara then leaves without another word.
Zetsu? Guru-Guru?
… Rin??
Suddenly, two entities made themselves known. Obito almost dies from a heart attack right then and there.
“Hello, Obito-san! My name is Guru-Guru! I’m a good boy!” A cheery tanuki introduces itself.
“Settle down, Guru-Guru. Our new friend is still in a bit of a shock.” A humanoid plant says.
Snapping out of his initial shock, the Uchiha greets the two as politely as he could. Yokais were not beings you want to mess with.
“Hello, Guru-Guru and Zetsu. Uh.. you guys work for Madara?”
Zetsu shrugs. “More or less. We had no choice, same as you.”
Guru-Guru hops excitedly. “If it weren’t for Lord Madara, we would be dead! Guru-Guru is grateful! Guru-Guru is so happy to meet a new friend! Lord Madara is so kind, saving so many of us!”
Obito decides that he quite likes this quirky tanuki yokai. The other… he was not so sure. He gave a sort of creepy vibe, but seemed harmless enough.
Suddenly, the room feels a little chilly and moist.
“Wow, who would have thought we would see each other like this again?”
Obito gasps. He knew that voice anywhere.
The teen slowly, ever so slowly, looks at the source of the voice.
It was Rin .
It was really her.
Kakashi sits by the window in his room, quietly watching the bustling village go about their day normally with indifference.
Children playing, mothers laughing together, vendors trying to make a living.
The sight of it made him sick.
His best friend is missing— possibly dead, yet no one went looking? Not even his clan? Not even his father… The thought of his father made the pain on his cheek resurface.
From the moment the young silver haired lord had woken up, he caused a ruckus, which was unheard of from the usually reserved and well behaved boy.
It shocked the servants and his father.
He had pleaded to his father to go back to Kannabi Bridge, where the cave collapsed, as his best friend Obito could still be alive and needed help.
At this, Sakumo Hatake’s face contorted into rage.
Not at him.
But at Obito.
“That Uchiha brat… he is the one who did this to you? Don’t tell me he was also the one teaching you magic. I’m sorry, Kakashi, but I will not look for this Uchiha. I forbid you to make friends with that boy. For all we know, he is simply using you to gain power and some sort of stability in his life. He is not a good influence on you, and stains need to be erased as early as now.”
Kakashi bristled. He glared at his father with intensity. Clenching his tiny fists, for the first time in his short life, yelled at his father.
“ Don’t talk about Obito that way!!!”
His father stared at him with wide eyes and a slightly open mouth.
“You… you don’t know him! He was always there for me! He is my best friend! You never even knew because he was too embarrassed to introduce himself to you!!” Kakashi was heaving, trembling with anger. “He has no one… no one! Not even his own family cares about him! And yet he… he befriended me not out of obligation, or even for power… he never looked at me like he had ulterior motives. He just did because…” Kakashi tears up, avoiding his father’s eyes. “Because…”
“Kakashi,” Sakumo started in a firm voice. “I understand he means a lot to you. But you need to choose your friends and associates carefully. That boy is too much of an unknown, and a headache to the village. His sort of influence will not be good for a person of your status. You must learn to let go. As your father, I know what is best for you.”
“What’s best for me…” Kakashi choked out. “What do you know about me?” He bites out before thinking. “You are rarely here for me. I was always so lonely, you never spent time with me, and you never let me outside to play with other children… Now that I found a true friend, would you even take that happiness from me???”
Anger festered and bubbled within him, until the boy finally exploded. “I wish you weren’t my father, and I wish I wasn’t a Hatake! I wish I wasn’t Kakashi!!!”
A harsh slap resounded throughout the room.
Kakashi yelped in surprise, losing his balance. He fell, his bottom landing painfully on the tatami mats. The boy raised a hand to his cheek, feeling the ghost of his father’s heavy hand.
Sakumo looked conflicted. He stepped forward, apology on the tip of his tongue. Kakashi flinched away.
Sakumo pressed his lips into a tight line.
“You crossed the line.”
Too guilty he had raised his hand against his son that he swore to protect, he turned and walked to the sliding doors.
“You are not to leave your room. Get plenty of rest. I will have samurai stationed around the estate, so don’t even think about sneaking out.”
After that, his father left him alone, like he always did.
Kakashi closes his eyes at the memory, fresh in his mind. Tsunade’s assistant, Shizune, had come into his room after his father had left to tend to his cheek.
She had looked at him with an expression akin to pity.
He hated it.
Tearing himself away from the window, he curls up in a fetal position on his comfortable futon and lets his thoughts empty.
But only thoughts of Obito Uchiha plagued his mind and his dreams.
He cries in his sleep.
After the initial shock of realization that Rin was still in this material world as a yokai , an ame onna no less, Obito and his small circle of yokai friends had gotten along well.
Rin still looked like how she was when she had died— the body of a 9 year old, short and cute with a baby face, although Rin being around meant there’d also be a chance of light rain accompanying her, even indoors. It brought back so many good memories, but also painful ones, for he knew nothing can be done to bring Rin back to life as a human again.
Rin had chatted with him extensively, raising Obito’s mood and spirits considerably. She had asked how Kakashi was doing, how the village was doing and if it was still at war. Obito answered her eagerly, although quiets down at the mention of war.
Obito reluctantly opens up about his stupid decision to bring Kakashi along to a dangerous area— an area that was once a battlefield for war a couple of years ago.
The Uchiha had wanted to scour the place for discarded weapons or anything interesting at all, like a treasure hunt. He had insisted Kakashi needed the exercise to keep his body as fit as he can and that it would be fun— there was absolutely no way staying cooped up in his room was doing him any good. No offense to old man Hatake, but he was too protective and narrow minded. He does not see that his method of protecting Kakashi is doing more harm than good.
Obito’s face turns grim as he retells the story of the cave he and Kakashi were exploring collapsed. He tells of his worry for Kakashi as he does not know what happened to the silver haired boy. Rin simply listens to him, holding his hand, squeezing it gently, letting him know that she’s there for him.
Three days passed eventfully, playing tons of games together with Zetsu, Guru-Guru and Rin, trying to walk without losing his balance, sharing stories, laughing.
On the fourth day, Madara plucks him out of their friend circle. The group was unnaturally quiet and somber when Obito got taken away.
He takes a short moment to glance over his shoulder to give his friends a reassuring thumbs up.
From that day forward, Obito Uchiha was never truly the same.
Once upon a time, there was a Tengu born from debt.
The Tengu loved a human.
To protect the human he loved, the Tengu traded his freedom, becoming shackled and oppressed.
Even after pledging loyalty, his Lord refused to let the Tengu have any sort of contact with the human he loved.
Being a slave to his Lord, he did everything He asked, no matter how painful or dirty the work may be, for He had saved his life.
The Tengu was told to offer a pure and untainted heart every full moon to his Lord.
Although it was against his morals, the Tengu did whatever was asked of him.
In the dead of the night, the Tengu would visit his loved one, watching his human sleep as the moonlight bathed his peaceful face in an ethereal glow.
He would disappear at dawn.
Many suns and moons passed.
Civilians were stricken with fear from stories of a Tengu with blood red eyes terrorizing villages. None dared to go out in the wee hours of the morn, afraid of being his next victim.
Hearts too many to count had been offered.
His midnight visits did not cease.
His monotonous, boring yet painful life is like clockwork.
His midnight visits were the one thing he looked forward to in the never ending cycle in his life.
One faithful day, his Lord finds out about his insubordination.
The Tengu pleads for mercy, begging he will never do it again. It was too late, as the Tengu had incited his Lord’s rage. His Lord places a powerful spell upon the Tengu’s beloved village.
“ Your whole village’s memory of you will be wiped. No one will remember you, not even your precious human. The only way to break this spell’s curse is if you ever take your precious human’s heart. Not like you will ever do it.”
His Lord cackled cruelly.
“ You WILL serve me for all eternity. Me and only me. Cast your meaningless emotions and attachments away.”
The Tengu fell into despair, submerged in hatred.
Hatred to him, to his Lord, and to the world.
And so, his monotonous, boring yet painful life continues.
He never visits the human anymore.
With each passing day, the more he harbored his hatred, the more of himself he lost.
Emotions and feelings discarded, he silently accepts his fate.
He had lost all hope, bitter and spiteful, for how could his beloved human remember him again, if the only way was to rip out his heart?
The Tengu set off into the night, carrying out his lifetime order, black feathers fluttering into the night sky devoid of stars.