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It has been a long time since Rin's murder and the mysterious disappearance of his other teammate.
Many have branded the boy a traitor to the village of Konoha, one who has carefully covered his tracks and may have sold out to the enemy. Others believe that Kakashi was killed along with Rin. No one knew the true story of that night, not even Obito himself, who had been a teammate of both of them, yet he believes that the two died that very night, even though Kakashi’s body was never found.
Because for Obito, there was one absolute certainty he would defend against anyone who dared to spread a rumor in the village: Kakashi would never betray them.
He would never do it, Kakashi had Obito’s eye. How could he?
Sometimes, when the scars on his body ached from the cold, Obito remembered the weight of the earth. After the enormous boulder fell on half his body at the Kannabi Bridge, he thought bitterly that this would be a terrible and abrupt end to the bright future he had planned. But he had accepted it. In that final moment of lucidity, surrounded by dust and blood, he accepted that he would sacrifice his life for his team. For Rin… and for Kakashi.
Kakashi…
The person to whom Obito gave his final breath in that moment of agony. And along with that breath, his most precious possession, his left Sharingan. In the midst of the tragedy, crushed and on the brink of death, Obito sincerely believed that this would be for the best. A parting gift for a rival who had become a brother in such a short time, and a poetic way for him to continue seeing the future through those eyes, even without being there himself.
Fate, however, had mocked his well-intentioned plans, spitting him back into life only to leave him alone in an empty village. He awoke in a cold room at the Konoha hospital, without the comrades he had sworn to protect with his life, without half his body, and without his left eye.
But one thing was certain now: the past was buried beneath the ground and suspicion, and in the present, only he and Minato-sensei remained. Despite being alive and sharing the warmth of his teacher’s and Kushina’s home, a terrible emptiness gnawed at his chest over the loss of his team. He missed Rin, his best friend since childhood. But he also missed Kakashi, that teammate he was always butting heads with and whose true feelings he’d never managed to figure out in time.
With the maturity that came with age, Obito looked back with crushing guilt. He cursed himself every night in the silence of his room, wasting his hours in the torment of “What if…?” Because despite all the differences they’d had, in the final moments of that mission on the Kannabi Bridge, he’d finally found that warmth that had been shattered after White Fang’s suicide. He felt that, after so long, they were finally ready to be friends, perhaps even best friends. But fate took it all away at the last second. His future was snatched from him in the blink of an eye, and waking up completely alone on that hospital stretcher ended up being a punishment far worse than the imminent death beneath the boulder.
On top of that, he had lost the girl of his dreams, the one who, with his last breath, had entrusted him to Kakashi’s care. At first, rage consumed him, and Obito was desperate to find someone to blame so he could avenge his comrades, but the reality was a dead end: no one knew for certain what had happened in the shadows of that forest, and deep down, Obito knew he could never blame Kakashi. He simply missed them both, trapped in the echo of a team that no longer existed.
There were so many nights and memories that he couldn’t think of anything but them. It was a long and sad mourning that has lasted ever since that day.
On the other hand, his teacher had managed to lead a fulfilling life, shouldering the responsibilities of the Hokage and building a home with his wife, Kushina.
Obito, for his part, in addition to his time of mourning, had to fight three times as hard. Upon returning from the dead, the path was tortuous.
Waking up in that hospital to the terrible news that Rin had been murdered and that there was no trace of the other ninja was not a pleasant experience, nor one he wanted to remember. As time went on, and despite the constant taunts, contempt, and cruel rejections he received from members of his own clan, who saw him as nothing more than a crippled failure who had squandered the Uchiha legacy, he pressed on. He proved his worth through sweat, tears, and an iron will. He managed to earn a good reputation, erasing his long history of being the “clumsy shinobi.”
It hadn't been long since he officially joined the ranks of ANBU. Although his dark uniform and black porcelain mask gave him an air of respectability and mystery in the eyes of others, deep down Obito was still grappling with the emptiness of his own home. His daily routine had been drastically reduced to carrying out high-risk missions, maintaining a rigorous training regimen, and frequently visiting his sensei and Kushina. They had become his only stable family anchor, especially now that the atmosphere in that house was brimming with radiant warmth. Kushina was pregnant, and very soon they would have a child. Seeing Minato’s huge smile when he spoke of the future baby and Kushina’s overflowing excitement gave Obito a glimmer of peace, a reminder that life continued to flourish despite the tragedies of the past and the wars.
However, so as not to drown in his own thoughts or overwhelm the parents-to-be, Obito also sought out opportunities to clear his mind a little outside the ANBU barracks. He’d go out to dinner with his former classmates, those who’d seen him stumble as a child and who now respected him as the man he was becoming. Asuma, Genma, and Guy were among his closest friends, always ready to drag him to a table full of grilled meat or ramen, breaking up his military seriousness with loud jokes, absurd youthful challenges, the smoke from Asuma’s cigarettes, and sake. It was those small moments of normalcy that kept Obito from getting completely lost in the cold identity of his black cat mask.
When duty granted him a little free time, Obito didn’t sit idly by. He knew that Minato was an extremely busy man, preoccupied with the village’s political affairs and caring for his wife, and since he felt his performance as a ninja had plateaued, he decided to seek out another mentor. That’s how he ended up training under Jiraiya-sensei. The legendary Sannin, with his wandering yet relentless style, saw the hidden potential in the young Uchiha and decided to pass on some of his knowledge. Obito wanted to keep learning from the greatest ninjas in history; he wanted to become strong enough so that, the next time fate put someone important in danger, his hands would never fall short again.
And even though Jiraiya was indisputably one of the best and most powerful ninjas known today… he was still an incorrigible pervert who wrote erotic novels. That used to be a real headache for Obito, since the legendary Sannin always, without fail, found some absurd excuse or an extremely ingenious way to divert their path toward the women’s hot springs or the village’s busiest bars. Jiraiya called it “seeking inspiration” or “field research,” but to Obito it was nothing more than an exasperating distraction. The white-haired man pushed the young Uchiha to the limit of his patience every time he interrupted that valuable training time to go on his so-called spying missions, leaving him standing there with kunai in hand or using him as a human shield when the kunoichi caught the old man snooping around.
Tonight, unfortunately, was no exception.
Obito had just finished a long and exhausting day in his ANBU uniform. His body was aching from fatigue, but the adrenaline rush of excitement kept him on his feet. After a long series of scheduling conflicts, he had finally agreed with Jiraiya that they would train together that night; they both had a couple of hours free, and Obito had no intention of letting that opportunity slip away. His mind was buzzing with a thousand questions about chakra theory, infiltration tactics, and new fire- and earth-style jutsu he wanted to perfect. Adjusting his civilian clothes as he hurried toward the meeting spot, Obito could only silently hope that his mentor was holding a scroll of techniques and not his spy binoculars.
When he arrived at the agreed-upon location, Jiraiya was standing there, waiting patiently on a deserted street, under the dim, yellowish light of a streetlamp. Obito approached him almost running, breathing a little heavily, cursing himself inwardly because he thought he was late and didn’t want to keep the Sannin waiting.
However, for some strange, intuitive reason, Obito glanced to the sides as he closed the distance and… "shit". He felt his heart sink. “He must be joking, right?” he thought, filled with pure frustration.
Right in front of them, across the street, stood the facade of a noisy bar, with overly flashy lighting and a constant echo of raucous laughter coming from drunk men. The situation was all too obvious.
Obito let out a long, heavy sigh before stopping right in front of his temporary mentor. He looked at him with deep suspicion written all over his face, raised an eyebrow slightly, and immediately crossed his arms.
—We’re going to train, right, Jiraiya-sensei? —he asked in a drawn-out, skeptical tone. He knew the old man all too well. He knew perfectly well that this looked every bit like another one of his cheap tricks to fool him into going inside and end up making the kid pay his hefty sake bill with his ANBU salary.
Jiraiya let out a loud, chest-rumbling laugh, slapping him on the back so hard it nearly sent Obito sprawling.
—Of course we will, kid! —the white-haired man replied with complete nonchalance. —In fact, I’m in a good mood today. I’ll teach you a jutsu I’ve been practicing lately...—Jiraiya drawled for a second, then stopped abruptly, as if carefully weighing his next words. —But you’ll have to do something for me afterward. It’s a mission... hmm, let’s just say it’s S-rank.
Obito stared intently into his eyes through the dim light. For a few brief seconds, the Sannin’s proposal had sounded strangely serious. It didn’t have the ridiculous tone he usually used when asking for help spying on girls in the hot springs or going to buy his porn magazines without anyone recognizing him. This felt different. So, swallowing his pride and mistrust, Obito nodded silently, turning serious and waiting for the details of this supposed classified mission.
But, shattering all the dramatic tension in the blink of an eye, the older man turned on his heel and began walking cheerfully toward the bar’s doors, waving a hand in the air as he muttered under his breath:
—I’ve got to have a drink first, kid. Is that how you welcome your nice, cool mentor? A dry throat won’t let the chakra flow!
Obito gave in, his shoulders slumped and a look of pure resignation on his face. He reached into his pants pocket, pulled out his wallet, and quickly checked the stack of bills he had left from his last paycheck.
I think I can afford it today… he thought, mentally calculating the price of the sake so it wouldn’t leave him broke before the end of the month.
He rolled his eyes and let out a long sigh of frustration as the two of them crossed the brightly lit entrance to the bar. The air, thick with alcohol and the buzz of the crowd, hit them all at once. They made their way through the noisy tables until they took a seat at a secluded bar. As soon as they settled in, Obito rested his elbows on the wood and fixed his gaze on his mentor, impatiently waiting for him to finally spill the beans about the famous mission.
Because one thing was certain: Obito wasn’t going to drink a single drop of alcohol. His sole, tragic role that night would be to foot the bill for the pervert’s sake across from him, just to get the answers he so desperately needed.
The young man looked at him from across the table, trying to figure out what the old man would say and how much money he’d steal from his wallet with what he was going to drink tonight.
—Boy, don’t look at me like that.
Jiraiya’s own voice was cut short when he raised an arm to catch the waiter’s attention from across the room. He ordered a bottle of the finest sake for himself and, with a knowing smile, a double portion of dango for Obito. Jiraiya knew full well that the young Uchiha, despite his facade as a serious and mature ANBU member, wouldn’t be able to resist a good plate of sweet dango. Realizing the subtle bribery tactic, Obito snorted, letting out a soft chuckle that softened the frown he’d been wearing ever since they walked through the door.
—What kind of mission is this, Jiraiya-sensei? —Obito added, resuming his suspicious tone and crossing his arms on the wooden counter. —Besides, why me? Can’t you go yourself, old man? I mean, it’s supposed to be an S-rank mission, and you’re one of the legendary Sannin.
Obito stared at him intently, analyzing his mentor’s expression. He knew that behind Jiraiya’s antics there was always a brilliant strategic mind, and if the old man was choosing him specifically for a matter of such magnitude, the reasons must be much deeper than they appeared. The steam from the bar and the smell of liquor hung between them, as they waited for the Sannin to cast the first thread of the web that would change Obito’s destiny forever.
The waiter arrived with a large bottle, interrupting the exchange of glances between the ANBU and the legendary Sannin. Jiraiya smiled with satisfaction at the amount of sake in front of him and began pouring himself a drink, paying no heed to Obito’s judgmental stares.
—It’s a complicated mission, it involves the Akatsuki. Do you remember them? —His tone immediately turned serious after taking a sip of his drink. —Now that you’re an ANBU and still hungry for power and knowledge of jutsu, I think this should be a good way to put what you’ve learned into practice.
Obito was immediately taken aback upon learning what the mission entailed; it would be extremely difficult, even for him. He smiled slightly and chewed on the dango. He swallowed it and continued to study Jiraiya with his gaze. —And why me? Have I become your favorite student? Enough for you to entrust me with a mission like that? I’m flattered, Jiraiya-sensei. —He smiled playfully, knowing there was another reason.
—Boy, don’t flatter yourself so much. You’re the only one I have available who isn’t going to charge me a fortune —Jiraiya joked, letting out a short laugh before his expression grew serious again. —But seriously… there’s something else going on in that village. Something my spy networks haven’t been able to fully figure out.
The Sannin set the sake cup down on the table with a sharp thud. He stared intently at Obito, and for a moment, the young Uchiha could see in his mentor’s eyes the weight of the years and past wars.
—Amegakure is a fortress sealed off from the outside world. Hanzo ruled it with an iron fist, but my sources indicate that he was overthrown behind the scenes. Whoever controls the rain right now is funding or protecting Akatsuki. But what really worries me… is the rumor about who’s protecting the village from outsiders.
Obito stopped the dango chopstick halfway to his mouth, caught off guard by Jiraiya’s somber tone.
—Who? —Obito repeated, intrigued.
—They call him ‘The Akatsuki who copies’ —Jiraiya said, crossing his arms.—A renegade ninja who wears a white fox mask. They say he leaves no survivors and moves like a ghost through the storm. His chakra flow and fighting style… the few descriptions I have seem disturbingly familiar to me, Obito. —But I can’t go myself without raising international suspicion. If a Sannin crosses that border, it would spark a war. On the other hand, a skilled ANBU, specialized in infiltration and able to travel in disguise…
Jiraiya leaned forward a little more, lowering his voice to a whisper.
—I’ll send you via one of my transport toads directly to the low-tide channels. —You’ll bypass the outer rain barrier. Your only mission is to get in, gather information, and get out alive. Do you think you can handle it?
Jiraiya’s challenge immediately ignited his Uchiha pride. He finished the last dango in one bite, wiped his lips with the back of his hand, and looked at his mentor with a determined and confident smile.
—Please, Jiraiya-sensei, who do you think you’re talking to? —Obito retorted, adjusting his Konoha ninja headband on his forehead. —Get that toad ready for me. I’ll prove to you that you didn’t make a mistake in choosing me.
The elder burst out laughing and said, placing a hand on his shoulder from across the table.
—You’ve got guts, Obito —he said, returning to his seat after letting out a hearty laugh and giving him another affectionate nudge on the shoulder across the table. Jiraiya settled back, taking in the rest of the bar’s lively atmosphere, and added under his breath after taking a good swig of sake —Besides, I can’t handle it personally. I have a pretty solid new lead on where Orochimaru might be in the coming days, and I need to follow that lead before it goes cold.
Obito nodded silently, letting go of any trace of his earlier teasing as he understood the situation. He knew full well how much his mentor was weighed down by his former teammate’s defection. Jiraiya couldn’t solve everything on his own, no matter how legendary he was; the stability of the ninja world required too much effort, and the Sannin needed reliable support. If he could lighten the load by handling the investigation in Amegakure, he would do so without hesitation.
—Understood —replied the Uchiha, sweeping the remains of the dango chopstick off the table with renewed maturity. —Count me in. I’ll bring that information back from Amegakure before he even realizes it.
Jiraiya stared at him through the steam rising from their drinks and nodded, pleased with his student’s resolve. However, before the Sannin could reach out to steal more bills from Obito’s wallet, the ANBU stopped him with a look full of sudden curiosity.
—But you’ll teach me the jutsu, won’t you? —he added, recalling the old man’s initial promise. —The jutsu you’ve been practicing yourself! —he exclaimed, sitting up straight in his seat as his ninja mind began racing.
“Maybe it’s an extremely powerful jutsu… one designed for Rank A missions or higher… It could even be a summoning variant!” he thought, a flash of genuine excitement in his eyes.
Jiraiya stared at him intently for a few seconds, keeping him in suspense, until he simply couldn’t take it anymore and burst out laughing, causing several people in the bar to turn and look at them.
—Kid, that was just a trick to get you to accept the mission! —the white-haired man confessed between bursts of laughter, taking a sip of his sake. —But since you’ve already given your word of honor, you can’t back out. A Konoha ninja never breaks a promise!
Obito felt all his excitement crumble in the blink of an eye. He slumped his shoulders and sank back into his seat, letting out a deep, weary sigh, offended by his mentor’s dirty trick. He rolled his eyes, silently cursing his own naivety. Jiraiya was definitely never going to change.
With the details of the mission firmly agreed upon at that bar table, their fate was sealed. A few days later, the plan would be set in motion flawlessly and with pinpoint precision. Obito would set out for the borders of the Land of Rain, temporarily bidding farewell to the warmth of Konoha and his friends’ jokes, unaware that every step he took was bringing him closer to the mystery that had kept his heart in a knot for so many years.
The cold, heavy rain continued to fall on that city as usual, beneath a sky that seemed dense and dark. Even though it was daytime, not a single ray of light pierced the clouds—just as the ninjas who had once infiltrated the village never emerged again.
The water was churning due to the falling rain, causing high tides.
And in a corner of it all, a frog sat on the water’s surface. It opened its mouth wide so the ninja could emerge from it.
First his face emerged, and slowly his entire upper body followed, as he balanced his chakra and rested both hands on the turbulent water. Then, his legs and his body emerged completely, finally freeing the Anbu from his hiding place.
There he was. Obito stood in the rain, rising on his heavy heels in the cold water, wearing his ANBU uniform, which now felt heavier and more cumbersome because of the water, along with his black porcelain cat mask. Realizing that this was his fate, he glanced briefly at his transport toad and smiled slightly behind his wet mask.
—I’ll take it from here —he added quickly, thinking the toad might worry, but it didn’t. —Don’t worry—
The toad disappeared into the water, vanishing completely, just like the boy’s smile. Obito stared at it in disbelief at such a sudden abandonment.
—Disloyal. —He snorted with clear annoyance radiating from his heart as he walked on the water.
‘Stupid frog, toad, tadpole. Whatever you are, you damn amphibian,’ he cursed as he walked.
He knew that the moment he stepped off the toad, he’d be in danger, since the Akatsuki Organization had been protecting this place from invaders for years with the heavy rain that fell. Nothing entered or left alive.
As the intruder made his way across the turbulent coastal waters, high atop Amegakure’s main tower, the atmosphere was so silent that only the patter of rain against the windows broke the stillness.
There, standing on a large balcony overlooking Amegakure, was Pain. At his side, Konan gazed at the horizon, and behind them, half-hidden by the shadows of the building’s pillars and metal structures, Kakashi waited with his eyes downcast. He wore a white fox mask, his straight, wet hair falling down the sides of it; he was clad in that black cloak with red clouds and wore a ring of the organization.
Suddenly, Pain’s eyes flashed. The rain falling on the village had just become disturbed at the outer perimeter, near the water.
—There’s someone new —Pain said, his deep voice echoing off the walls. —The chakra is dense; it seems to be an infiltrator…
Konan tensed, but before she could move, Kakashi stepped forward from the shadows. He adjusted his white fox mask over his face, covering his features. He had sensed a strange, inexplicable vibration in the air that had suddenly quickened his pulse.
—I’ll go; you don’t need to bother —Kakashi interjected, his calm voice echoing through the white porcelain.
For it was he who was primarily responsible for Amegakure’s protection, “The Akatsuki Who Copies,” as some of the locals who had witnessed his combat methods against infiltrators daring to set foot in the village had dubbed him.
Pain nodded slightly, accustomed to Kakashi’s deadly routine.
—Go, Kakashi, and put an end to the threat. Make it quick.
Without saying another word, the ninja in the fox mask vanished in the blink of an eye, rushing out into the storm to hunt down the intruder.
The thunder and raindrops continued to fall. Some claps of thunder were so loud you might have thought a bolt was about to strike right next to you.
Konan watched as Kakashi slipped away effortlessly in the distance, amid the rain falling on the city; she furrowed her brow and glanced sideways at Pain, who was still watching Amegakure.
—Don’t you think he’s too hard on himself? —the girl sighed and smoothed her bangs, which were being blown up by the wind from that endless rain.
Pain, on the other hand, barely glanced at her and replied briefly, his voice trailing off into a near-whisper.
—I’d rather have that than strangers and spies in Amegakure, Konan —he added after a few seconds. —Let him do his job.
Obito quickened his pace across the water, and just before reaching dry land, he donned a black cloak to cover his ANBU uniform. With a swift motion, he removed his porcelain mask, revealing a face furrowed by deep scars that disfigured half of his features. Upon reaching the water’s edge, he took shelter under the awning of a small candy stand. The stall was run by an elderly woman with a distant gaze who, upon hearing the boy’s approaching footsteps, kindly offered him her wares.
—We sell delicious dango… and every kind of candy you can imagine —she offered in the sweet voice of a grandmother waiting for her grandchildren with open arms.
Obito smiled shyly, feeling genuine relief in his chest. "Incredible—she didn’t judge me by my face” he thought. However, his joy lasted barely a breath before he noticed the woman’s trembling hands blindly feeling their way across the table in front of her. She was completely blind. He let out a small, resigned chuckle at his own naivety and asked gently:
—Could I have a dango, please? —He pulled out the wallet he’d been hiding under his cloak. —How much is it?
—One hundred fifty yen, son… —she replied, struggling to extend her chopstick.
Obito nodded, took the sweet, and placed the coins directly into the old woman’s palm, taking great care not to let them fall. As he chewed the dango, he took advantage of their proximity to try to gather information about the village.
—Excuse me, ma’am… —he began cautiously. —Do you know anything about the Akatsuki who copies?
The woman didn’t seem to catch his whisper because of her hearing loss. —What? —she asked loudly.
Obito’s heart skipped a beat. He looked frantically from side to side, silently praying that the shout hadn’t drawn any suspicious glances. He leaned closer to her again and, almost brushing her ear, repeated the question in a clear, urgent whisper.
Upon hearing the right words, the old woman’s face paled. Her eyes rolled back in panic, and she made a desperate gesture for him to be quiet.
—Nothing will happen to you if you’re not an outsider… —she murmured in a trembling voice that sent shivers down the Uchiha’s spine. —But if you are, don’t you dare say his name out loud. I assure you, boy, that he will find you sooner or later...
Her words trailed off into a whisper of fear. Immediately, the old woman took a step back, hiding in the shadows of her stall, and began shouting again with the same feigned warmth as before:
—Candy and dango! We sell delicious dango!
Obito stood dumbfounded in the rain, processing the woman’s drastic and sudden change in mood, which had shifted from utter terror to feigned nonchalance in the blink of an eye. The dango tasted bitter in his mouth. "Are they really that afraid of that Akatsuki?”
He looked back at the street where he stood, and many people were staring at him with concern and silence. Obito didn’t understand why—whether it was because of his face or what the old woman had said to him.
He shielded his face and body from the rain with that black hooded cloak. Holding the edges of it tight and pressing it against his chest, he fled the scene.
Unfortunately, his uncovered face drew more attention and stares from the citizens than the white ANBU mask itself. When he noticed this, his insecurity boiled beneath his skin, and he brought his fingertips to the edges of the hood to pull it tighter against him and somehow cover his wounds better.
But wouldn’t that look even more suspicious? No, of course not.
It’s raining; I’m just protecting myself from the rain. Who would suspect anything?
Obito’s mind was filled with a thousand voices of his own, paralyzing him with the fear that someone would catch him and lead him to his inevitable end in Amegakure.
Idiot, shut up. No one’s looking at you.
He shook his head and, determined, pulled his hood down completely. He took a detour to reach a secluded alleyway lit by a streetlamp that cast a flickering glow. He waited for a moment of calm and silence in his mind.
The alley was dark, boxed in between two enormous metal buildings dripping with dirty water. Being alone, the silence was broken only by the pounding of the downpour, which allowed him to breathe. Obito leaned against the cold, wet wall, trying to calm his racing heartbeat. He let out a sigh, watching the mist from his breath evaporate into the cold air.
Reaching his hand under his cloak, he brushed the smooth surface of his ANBU cat mask, which he wore beneath it. He had to put it back on.
Just as his fingers wrapped around the mask to pull it out, an icy chill ran down his spine.
The water flowing across the alley floor... had stopped. No, it hadn't stopped. The raindrops falling from the sky seemed to veer off course ever so slightly a couple of meters ahead, as if they were hitting an invisible body.
Obito froze every muscle, but his hand instinctively reached for his mask and put it back on.
Slowly, he looked up.
Sitting on the edge of a high-pressure pipe, a few meters up, was a silhouette blocking the water that should have fallen on Obito. The rain slid down the black cloak with red clouds, but what made Obito’s throat go dry was what glinted in the alley’s dim light: a white porcelain mask shaped like a fox.
He felt a slight tapping on his right eye behind the mask the moment he saw the white mask, but he quickly decided to ignore it.
This had to be a bad joke. Right? He’d just arrived, and there was an Akatsuki member right in front of him. Jiraiya-sensei was going to hate him for ruining this mission.
This mission would only be about gathering information... not whatever is happening right now.
Apparently, Akatsuki doesn’t waste any time…
The Fox was looking down at him. He didn’t move, he didn’t attack, he just watched him with a intensity that shattered Obito’s newfound courage.
—It’s a bad place to seek shelter from the storm, don’t you think? —said the Fox, drawing out his words with a slight echo in the alley. His voice was flat, filtered through the mask—strangely melodious yet devoid of any warmth amid the rain. Besides, because of the rain, Obito could barely make out the Akatsuki’s eyes in front of him. —Especially for infiltrators and spies, you look like a stranger —he added after a cold pause in his voice. —I’ve never seen you around here, or at least I don’t remember it. And the latter never happens.
Obito cursed inwardly at his own distraction and the slight pain in his right eye socket. How long had that guy been up there? Had he seen his scarred face before he put the mask back on? Is this the guy Jiraiya was talking about? Uncertainty and adrenaline mixed in his chest, instantly transforming him into a combat stance. Obito took a step back, sliding his hand toward the weapons hidden beneath his black cloak.
He had to lie. Make something up, anything. But under no circumstances could he attack, if he did, all the other Akatsuki members would arrive in a matter of seconds. So he lowered his hand and simply raised both arms in a gesture of innocence.
—I’m just a writer from Sunagakure… Tobi, by the way —Obito replied, using a made-up name he’d come up with at the last minute, forcing an innocent voice, trying to hide the lump in his throat.
—I’m not looking for trouble.
—A writer doesn’t enter Amegakure through the low-tide channels —the Fox retorted, dropping from the pipe with inhuman ease. He made no sound as he hit the flooded ground. —And an ordinary traveler doesn’t have that kind of chakra flow, much less a writer.
The fox approached the writer with light steps, but to Obito, each one was a warning sign of danger. The Anbu swallowed hard.
The distance between them was short. Obito knew that lying was useless now. In this dead-end alley, facing one of the Akatsuki, the espionage mission had just become a fight for survival in a matter of seconds.
—Besides, why would a writer from Sunagakure wear a porcelain mask just like the ones Konoha makes for its ninjas, huh? —He grinned mischievously, his face moving closer to the other's. He slowly reached out, almost caressing the black cat mask, wanting to uncover his face, analyzing its silhouette.
—I'm not lying, if that's what you're implying —he added nervously, pulling away from the touch. He quickly reconsidered his actions in front of the fox. —The truth is... —There was a long pause between them, but it seemed the fox was willing to listen to any lie.
—I write novels, and sometimes I spy on people to get into character. It's kind of like, mmm —he thought for a moment, his mind wandering, and continued lying, weaving a web of falsehoods.
—Method actor, you know what they are?
—Maybe that's what explains my chakra and my ability to get into character.—he commented with a forced smile behind his mask, adding as he took a step back, pulling the Anbu mask away from the Akatsuki. —And the mask was a gift from my… —His mind went blank. Who gave it to him? he added nervously, lying. —My best friend, yes.
The Akatsuki could detect lies like this from a great distance, and this was no exception, but this time, unlike others, Kakashi was curious about the infiltrator. He wanted to witness all those unprofessional lies and toy with him to see how far he would go.
The Fox let out a low laugh, a soothing sound laden with delicious irony that echoed through the narrow alley. He took a slow step forward, closing the distance Obito had tried to put between them.
—Method actor... —Kakashi repeated, savoring the words with exasperating laziness. —What dedication you have, Tobi. I didn't know that writing novels required such... military-level chakra control. It's fascinating how far art has come these days. You impress me. —He looked at him carefully and added thoughtfully, —Sasori would get along very well with you, no doubt. Both of you passionate about slow art. —He added, thinking of Sasori himself, —But he'd probably kill you in a second... you're lucky I'm your guard tonight.
Obito smiled nervously, unsure how to respond to this information.
"Thank you for not killing me. I truly appreciate it, Mr. Fox."
No, of course not. Wait, Sasori? Another Akatsuki member? Great, things couldn't get any worse.
Obito maintained his forcedly relaxed posture, but inside, his mind was cursing himself in a thousand languages, feeling his pulse quicken. However, his elite training prevented him from physically faltering; he held the gaze of the porcelain mask with a seriousness meant to be that of an indignant but respectful civilian.
—Art demands sacrifices, officer —Obito retorted, forcing a calm, mature tone of voice, trying to salvage what remained of his cover. —If one doesn't fully immerse oneself in the psychology of one's characters, the chronicles are empty, aren't they? —he added foolishly, almost babbling. —It's my first work, so I want it to be perfect.
Something stopped the Akatsuki member and looked at him with interest. He was definitely going to have a lot of fun with this new intruder and his charade. He placed his hand on the mask at his chin and thought.
—Hmm, I see, of course —he commented with a smile behind the mask. —It's the first one, and it has to be perfect. What will it be about? If I may ask. —Kakashi knew he had Tobi cornered and kept pushing harder and harder. Kakashi moved a little closer, almost testing him, and the other was frozen, his feet unable to move, and it seemed his brain had stopped working.
"What will it be about? What is this idiot playing at? Just kill me already and stop playing games."
—And why did you choose Amegakure? I mean... this place lacks many things... What brings you here, huh? —Obito's heart pounded against his ribs, and his mask began to feel hot.
—Oh, right —he added, stuttering. —Well, it's about... umm, a girl, a girl who has a forbidden love, yes, and... oh, and her soulmate lives outside of Amegakure, and neither of them can see each other because of the rules of the place —he answered, his breath ragged, hoping that the Akatsuki member in front of him wouldn't decide to end his life right then and there for being such a horrible liar.
Kakashi listened intently to the stuttering and each lie, nodding along to the fabricated plot as if he accepted the entire deception, but it was clearly impossible for an Akatsuki member to be so naive. He was toying with him, and Obito knew it perfectly well.
—Sounds interesting —he added kindly. —Oh, and please don't think I asked to make you uncomfortable, it's just that I'm a fan of romance novels. —He started rambling, and Obito was amazed that he kept talking and hadn't killed him.
—I'm glad... I'm glad it caught your attention —Obito replied, slowly releasing the breath he'd been holding. His ANBU brain was screaming with pure frustration.
"Romance novels? This Akatsuki assassin is a romance fanatic? What kind of madhouse is this place? All that's missing is for him to like reading books like the ones that pervert writes."
Despite the internal panic and the fact that his cat mask felt like an oven against his face, Obito forced his feet to remember how to stand firm. His training with Jiraiya-sensei had taught him to deal with absurd situations, but this bordered on the ridiculous. However, he couldn't falter. If the Fox wanted to continue the literary game, he would have to write the best script of his life to avoid ending up with a kunai at his throat.
—It's a... complicated story," Obito continued with more lies, trying to steady his breathing and regain a mature tone in his voice. "Love in times of war and closed borders doesn't always end well. I thought the gray atmosphere of Amegakure would give it the perfect dramatic touch; I love tragic love stories. That's why I'm here."
Obito held his gaze as if it were a game of staring contests between stubborn little children, adding in a slightly more broken and sincere voice.
—I think war and political disputes have taken so much from us, including love and friendship. I want everyone to know that and see war differently, to understand that…—He sighed and brought a hand to the back of his neck. —I don’t know, I need to polish my story.
Behind the white porcelain, Kakashi savored every second of the intruder’s torment. The anbu’s lie and the forbidden love were so ridiculously bad that they amused him endlessly. But what truly fascinated the Fox was what he had said last, he seemed to be someone who had lived through the war firsthand.
And above all, what had caught his attention: that strange, unsettling throbbing in his own left eye, in his Sharingan, which hadn’t stopped throbbing since he had approached the anbu.
—A touch of drama... Yes, this place is an expert at that —agreed the Fox, dragging out his words with that cynical laziness as he slowly circled Obito, admiring his black hood and silhouette like a wolf sizing up its prey. —Although it's a story of soulmates who can't see each other because of the village rules... it almost sounds tragic. I wonder if it will have a happy ending, Tobi. Romance readers don't like having their hearts broken, especially me. —He finished playfully, leaning closer to the back of his black cloak.
Obito felt a chill run down his spine as Kakashi's voice echoed behind his neck. The invisible grip of tension tightened around him again as Kakashi's pale hand passed over Obito's right shoulder, which was covered by his rain-soaked black cloak.
—I haven't decided on the end yet, officer... —Obito said, his back to Kakashi, forcing an inquisitive tone into his voice, trying to figure out the Akatsuki member's name as he clenched his fists hidden beneath his cloak. —By the way, what's your name?
—Classified —the Fox replied coldly without even thinking, a small smile hidden behind the porcelain as he turned to face Obito.
Obito let out an almost imperceptible snort, but he didn't give in. He forced his fists open inside his cloak, making himself as non-threatening a stance as possible. He couldn't afford to appear a danger to the officer.
—I understand... —Obito murmured, this time his voice a little lower, losing the inquisitive tone of before and replacing it with an almost submissive caution. —Forgive my impertinence, officer. I... I didn't mean to offend you.
He took a very slow step to the side, keeping his head down, trying to distance himself from the Fox's suffocating proximity without running away.
—I just... hope the end of my story isn't as tragic as you predict. With your permission. —Obito wanted to turn around quickly and run from that place; he thought the lie was good and that now he could escape, but as soon as he turned around, Kakashi grabbed his shoulder and pulled him toward him, even though the ANBU was a few centimeters taller than the Akatsuki member.
Obito's heart lurched violently against his ribs as Kakashi's grip tightened around his shoulder. For a split second, the primal panic of being captured tempted him to struggle, but he forced his muscles to remain still beneath the officer's hand. He was trapped against the Fox's chest, feeling the Akatsuki's overwhelming presence too close.
—No offense, not at all, Tobi. I'm just doing my duty as a supervisor... —he added, unsure if that was even the right title for someone like him. He shook his head and glanced sideways at Tobi while still holding him by the shoulder. —And my duty as a novel lover, I believe, is to provide you with a roof over your head while you write that masterpiece. Don't you think so?
Kakashi's words echoed in his ears, leaving him completely disoriented.
A roof? Giving him shelter?
Obito kept his gaze fixed on the ground, fearing that his eyes betrayed the mental chaos he was in. The fear was still there, latent and sharp, but now it was mixed with a profound confusion.
Was it a trap? A sophisticated way to keep him watched and under their control? He couldn't just say "No" to the Akatsuki member standing right in front of him.
Damn it, he'll kill me, won't he?!
His mind raced, a thousand thoughts forming in his head, none of them forming correctly. He feared for his life and, of course, for his reputation. Jiraiya would hate him for this.
Obito shook his head slightly and looked again at the Akatsuki member who, beneath the rain, looked like someone peaceful, his hair looked darker after being in the rain for so long, and his cloak fell gracefully over him despite him being such a dangerous person.
—A... a roof?—Obito repeated in a whisper, his breath caught in his throat, his body still tense beneath the other's hand. He didn't dare glance at him, fearing to shatter the fragile balance of the situation. —Officer… I… I don't know what to say. I wouldn't want to be a bother, much less a distraction from your… your duty.
He tried to soften his shoulder under Kakashi's grip, not to break free, but to show he didn't intend to fight.
—Ah, Tobi. —He sighed and pressed Obito closer, applying more force, and began to walk, pulling the Anbu along. —Why would you be a bother? You're definitely the friendliest intruder I've ever encountered, —he replied with a small, gentle laugh. Tobi's mouth couldn't form a word; only mute babble escaped as he continued to be dragged to Kakashi's side. The other continued speaking.
—I promise you, your stay in Amegakure will be the best. Let’s go to a hostel I know, okay? Everyone there is nice.—He didn’t wait for a reply and continued leading Obito through the horrible, cold streets of Amegakure.
Obito’s silence was absolute, broken only by the metallic sound of rain hitting puddles and the officer’s rhythmic gait. Kakashi knew he was an ANBU, he knew it perfectly well. That kindness wasn’t real; it was a hunter’s net slowly closing in on his prey, disguised as courtesy.
His feet moved by sheer inertia, pulled along by the Fox’s firm grip. The cold of Amegakure seemed to seep into his bones.
Obito glanced sideways at the dark corners, the flooded alleyways, desperately searching for an escape route, but the hand on his shoulder was a constant reminder that any false move would mean his execution. And even if he could escape the fox, the other Akatsuki would deal with Obito quickly and without the mercy the fox had shown thus far.
—A hostel... —Obito finally managed to say, his voice thick and choked, forcing his vocal cords to obey as he tried to process the fact that he was being kidnapped as politely as possible. —Officer... it's really not necessary... I can find a place myself...
His words died in his throat as they passed under the flickering light of a streetlamp. The silhouette of the Fox's porcelain mask stood out against the gloom, relentless, heading straight for the heart of the cold, rainy city. Obito gritted his teeth, swallowing his terror, knowing that his life now depended entirely on playing the part of this "friendly writer" until he found a single opportunity to escape.
There were only two lamps at the entrance, their light flickering intermittently, their beams crackling with an electric hum, while dozens of nocturnal insects fluttered about, drawn by the dying warmth of the light.
Upon reaching the threshold, the Akatsuki member finally released Obito from his grasp. He let go slowly, knowing full well that the stranger had no way out, no real chance of escape.
Kakashi took a step forward and proceeded to push the heavy wooden and iron door firmly open with his shoulder. The mechanism creaked before them, yielding with a sharp, rusty groan that immediately mingled with the incessant patter of rain on the puddles.
Obito stared in terror at the interior. The darkness that awaited him seemed to have a life of its own; every part of his body went completely cold and stunned, his muscles tensing so much that he found himself unable to move, rooted to the spot by an overwhelming foreboding. Kakashi smiled maliciously beneath his fox mask and, with a terrifying familiarity, roughly pulled him toward him, gripping his shoulder tightly and leading him into the gloom of the lobby.
—Come on, Tobi, don't be shy —Kakashi said in a falsely hospitable tone, dragging him inside as the door closed behind them, burying what little light remained outside and leaving a trail of water beneath their feet. —All my friends will like you, even though they tend to be annoying
He chuckled to himself, imagining how Tobi would react to seeing all the Akatsuki in one room. Meanwhile, Obito was terrified but nodded politely.
"Was this really happening? I'm sorry, Rin, I'm sorry, Kakashi. It seems this will end very soon."
Obito sighed and continued walking beside the silver-haired man.