Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The forest loomed ahead, a dark wall of ancient trees stretching upward against the fading light. You glanced at your companion, noting the tension in his shoulders as he walked beside you. The mask covering half his face couldn't hide the haunted look in his visible eye.

"Even if we succeed, I doubt it's enough for redemption," you said as you headed toward the tree line with Obito by your side. The words hung heavy in the air between you.

Obito's pace faltered for just a moment. He turned his head slightly, his Sharingan eye gleaming with an unreadable emotion.

"Redemption isn't why I'm here," he replied, voice low and rough. "Some sins can't be washed away with good deeds. I learned that long ago."

A chilled wind swept through the clearing, carrying the scent of pine and something else-something wrong. You tensed, instinctively scanning the shadowed forest edge. Something was watching you both.

"We're not alone," Obito whispered, his body already shifting into a defensive stance. His hand moved to the kunai at his belt. "Whatever's out there has been tracking us since we left the village."

"Mmm, you're right Obi-one," you said with a slight smirk despite the tension.

With a simple thought, you manifested your vectors - ghostly limbs that extended invisibly from your back. They stretched out around you both, their 25-meter range creating an unseen perimeter that could detect the slightest movement.

"Let's draw 'em out," you suggested, your voice dropping to a whisper as your vectors probed deeper into the surrounding forest.

Obito regarded you with mild surprise, his Sharingan scanning your form. "Those appendages... they're not chakra-based," he observed, his voice barely audible. "What exactly are you, Raven?"

You sent one of your vectors slicing through the underbrush about fifteen meters ahead, deliberately making noise. A dark shape darted between the trees in response.

"There!" Obito tensed, hands rapidly forming signs as he prepared a jutsu. "Three o'clock, moving fast. Two more at our six."

You reacted instantly, sending your vectors whipping through the forest with deadly precision. They closed around the nearest shadowy figure, invisible but unstoppable.

The attacker let out a startled cry as your vectors seized them, dragging their struggling form into the clearing. It was a ninja wearing a strange mask, limbs flailing uselessly against your ghostly grip.

"I'm not from around here, Obito. Let's just say I collect... abilities." You tightened your vectors around the captured ninja, watching Obito's visible eye widen slightly.

"Dimensional jutsu? No..." Obito's Sharingan spun as he analyzed your vectors. "Something else entirely." He formed hand signs with blinding speed, expelling a massive fireball toward the two remaining attackers hiding in the trees.

The forest edge erupted in flames as one attacker dodged while the other was caught in the inferno, their screams cut short. Your captive struggled harder, reaching for a concealed weapon.

You lifted the captive higher, vectors constricting until they went limp. "Want me to finish this one, or should we ask some questions first?" The remaining attacker was circling through the trees, looking for an opening.

You lowered your vectors, carefully depositing the unconscious ninja onto the forest floor. The masked figure lay motionless in the grass, chest barely rising with shallow breaths.

"I heard Uchiha had impressive genjutsu... maybe we can make some use of that? Isn't like they'll give up info willingly." Your eyes met Obito's as you gestured toward the fallen attacker.

Obito knelt beside the prone figure, his Sharingan eye spinning hypnotically. "My clan's visual prowess has its uses." His voice was cold, detached. "But first, we need to deal with his friend."

A kunai whistled through the air, nearly grazing your cheek. You ducked instinctively, vectors lashing out toward the source of the attack. The remaining ninja burst from the trees, hands flashing through signs. A wall of earth erupted between you, blocking your vectors momentarily.

"It's called nen... a different energy system from a different world... though... I doubt it's any different from the chakra of this world," you informed your ever-perceptive partner as you circled the earthen barrier. Obito's eye widened slightly at your revelation.

Obito's body began to distort, twisting unnaturally as he activated his Kamui. "Another world? That explains why I can't copy your technique." He phased through the earth wall, emerging on the other side directly behind the startled attacker. "But right now, we have more pressing matters." His hand closed around the ninja's throat.

"Vis versa," you said with a knowing smile, watching as Obito's form solidified, his grip tightening around the struggling ninja's throat.

You smirked as you watched him warp, appreciating the fluid way his body phased through solid matter. For now at least, you wouldn't be able to copy that ever impressive Kamui of his. Not until your body completely adapted to this world's energy system.

The captured ninja thrashed against Obito's iron grip, fingers clawing desperately at the Uchiha's wrist. Obito's expression remained cold, unaffected by the man's struggle. "Who sent you?" he demanded, his Sharingan spinning hypnotically as it locked onto his victim's panicked eyes.

"We... we were ordered to... to track the Uchiha..." the ninja gasped, voice strangled as Obito's genjutsu took hold. "The bounty... on your head... is substantial." The man's body went slack, caught in the ruthless illusion.

A rustling sound from behind alerted you both. You spun around, vectors stretching out protectively as three more masked figures emerged from the trees. These weren't simple bounty hunters - their coordinated movements and chakra control marked them as elite shinobi.

"More company," Obito muttered, releasing the now-unconscious ninja to drop heavily to the ground. He stepped back until he was standing shoulder-to-shoulder with you, his back nearly touching yours. "Seems we've attracted quite the welcoming party."

"Mostly you," you replied with a dry smirk, your vectors coiling around you like invisible serpents ready to strike.

You glanced sideways at him, finding a strange comfort in the dangerous situation.

The masked ninjas spread out in a practiced formation, kunai glinting in the dappled forest light. "Looks like you're pretty popular, Obi-one," you quipped, dropping into a fighting stance as the first attacker lunged forward.

Your vectors stretched out rapidly, invisible to all but you as they filled the clearing. The first ninja's charge halted violently as a vector punched through his chest. Blood sprayed across the forest floor as another vector severed his arm at the shoulder.

The remaining attackers faltered at the sight of their comrade being torn apart by an invisible force. You became a whirlwind of destruction, vectors lashing out in all directions. Three ninjas were nothing compared to your onslaught - limbs separated from torsos in brutal fashion, bodies crumpling like ragdolls as you dismembered them without mercy.

Obito watched in stunned silence, his Sharingan tracking the faint disturbances in the air where your vectors moved. Bodies and blood littered the forest clearing, the attackers dispatched in seconds. "What... are you?" There was new wariness in his voice as he stared at the carnage you'd created without moving a muscle.

You pulled back your vectors, the invisible arms retracting as blood dripped from their ethereal forms before vanishing entirely. The forest clearing had transformed into a grotesque display of dismembered bodies and pooling crimson.

"An interdimensional time traveler in search of knowledge and adventure. And it appears that we are now partners," you replied with a casual shrug, as if tearing apart multiple elite ninja was nothing extraordinary. Your eyes lingered on Obito's Sharingan, studying the hypnotic pattern of his ocular jutsu with intense fascination, though you kept that interest to yourself.

Obito stepped carefully around a severed arm, his sandal making a soft squelching sound in the blood-soaked grass. "Partners?" His voice held a mix of disbelief and caution. "Your abilities are... unlike anything in this world. Even the Tailed Beasts don't compare to that level of casual slaughter."

"Those vectors of yours," he continued, gesturing vaguely at the space around you, "they're completely invisible to normal sight. Even my Sharingan only detects slight disturbances in the air." He knelt beside one of the fallen ninja, checking for any identifying marks or symbols.

The remaining unconscious ninja groaned softly from where he lay bound by thin wire several feet away. You walked toward him, purposely stepping on a dismembered hand with a sickening crunch. Obito's gaze followed your movement, his expression guarded but curious.

"Should I finish this one too? Or did you want to extract more information?" You stood over the captive, a vector hovering invisibly above the man's heart, ready to pierce through at your command. Whatever Obito decided, your focus remained partly on him - specifically on that eye and the space-time manipulation he commanded. Such an ability would make a fine addition to your collection, when the time was right.

"Well?" you prompted Obito, your head tilting slightly as you waited for his decision regarding the surviving ninja.

Obito's Sharingan eye narrowed thoughtfully. "We need information." He stepped closer, careful to avoid the pools of blood that were spreading across the forest floor.

Your vectors moved with deadly precision, cutting through the wire bindings with a sharp slicing sound. The ninja barely had time to register his freedom before another vector wrapped around his ankle, yanking him violently upward. He dangled upside down, his face reddening as blood rushed to his head.

"Put me down! What is this?!" he screamed, arms flailing wildly as he squirmed in your invisible grip. His eyes bulged with terror as he twisted in midair, unable to see what held him.

Obito watched with clinical interest, circling the suspended man like a predator. "Who sent you after me?" he demanded, his voice cold. "I won't ask twice."

The ninja's face contorted with fear and defiance. "The Mizukage has a special bounty on your head, traitor!" he spat, though his bravado was undermined by the tremor in his voice. "You'll never make it to-" His words cut off in a gurgle as your vector tightened around his ankle, twisting it unnaturally.

"Ooh the Mizukage? Such a high ranking individual... who's that again?" You loosened your grip slightly, allowing the ninja to catch his breath. Your question earned you a puzzled look from both the captive and Obito.

"You don't know who the Mizukage is?" Obito asked, his visible eye narrowing with suspicion.

You shrugged, maintaining your casual demeanor despite the blood-soaked clearing around you. "I'm not the best on shinobi politics. If the kages don't start with 'ho,' then I have no clue which village belongs to which kage."

The captive ninja made a choking sound that might have been disbelieving laughter. "What kind of shinobi doesn't know-" His mockery ended abruptly as your vector gave his ankle another painful twist.

Obito stepped forward, his sandals leaving bloody footprints on the forest floor. "The Mizukage rules Kirigakure, the Hidden Mist Village," he explained, his tone neutral but his eye watchful. "They've maintained a bounty on me since the war. The question is why they've suddenly deployed elite tracking teams when they've been content with ordinary hunters until now."

You dangled the ninja higher, enjoying the way he squirmed helplessly in your invisible grip. "Probably because you're traveling with me now. Maybe they think you're up to something big." You turned your attention back to the captive, your eyes cold despite your playful tone. "So, what exactly were your orders regarding this traitor? And be specific this time, or I'll have to get creative with how many pieces I split you into."

"Have you ever thought of being force fed your own body parts?" you asked the dangling ninja, your tone curious and light as if discussing the weather. The man's eyes widened in terror as blood continued rushing to his head.

You tilted your head, studying his fear with academic interest. A few months ago, you'd been living a completely different life before a portal had opened without warning, sucking you in and spitting you out into this world of shinobis. None of the Konoha ninjas trusted you-not that you could blame them. This mission was their setup to prove your loyalty, though you didn't mind. You had nothing better to do anyway.

"P-please, I'll tell you everything!" the captive blubbered, his earlier bravado evaporating like morning mist. "The Mizukage sent eight of us-three teams! We're just the first wave!"

Obito stepped closer, his Sharingan spinning lazily as he regarded the terrified man. "First wave? Explain." His voice carried deadly promise.

"Your appearance with this... this stranger caused alarm," he gasped, pointing at you with a shaking finger. "They detected a dimensional disturbance. With your history and this newcomer's unknown powers... the Mizukage fears you're planning something worse than the Moon's Eye Plan."

You laughed softly, the sound echoing through the blood-soaked clearing. The dimensional disturbance hadn't gone unnoticed, as you suspected. Your team-up with the infamous Obito Uchiha had made many jump to the worst conclusions. "And people call me paranoid," you muttered, a vector casually slicing off the ninja's pinky finger. His scream pierced the forest as blood sprayed from the wound.

Chapter Text

"Maybe set up a meeting next time. Jumping to conclusions can only lead to misunderstandings... you'd think people with such burdensome responsibilities wouldn't be privy to acting with such rashness," you said, watching the ninja writhe in pain.

You snickered a bit, your eyes gleaming with amusement at the situation. The blood and carnage around you seemed almost like a playground. "Not really minding the exercise these shinobi would grant me though."

Obito regarded you with growing wariness, his Sharingan never leaving your form. "You find this... entertaining?" He gestured toward the dismembered bodies surrounding you both.

"Is the Mizukage strong? I think I'm up for a good challenge and some limb stretching," you asked, completely ignoring his question. You allowed your vectors to become visible - translucent black appendages that wavered like dark veils before fading back to invisibility. The captive ninja's eyes bulged with terror at the brief glimpse of your weapons.

"The Fifth Mizukage, Mei Terumī, is one of the strongest alive," Obito answered carefully, studying your reaction. "But challenging a Kage would bring the full might of their village down on us. Is that what you want?"

The suspended ninja gave a choked laugh despite his pain. "You're both dead already! The other teams will be here any moment!" At his words, a distant rustling sound came from deeper in the forest, followed by the unmistakable glint of metal as kunai flew toward you from multiple directions.

You smiled as your vectors shot out in all directions, catching the kunai mid-flight before they could reach either of you. The metal weapons clattered harmlessly to the ground as more shadows moved through the trees.

"I don't know if you've noticed," you said casually to Obito while maintaining your grip on the suspended ninja. You winked at the terrified man dangling upside down, your lips curling into a predatory smile that made him flinch. "But I'm well equipped for the larger groups."

A dozen more masked ninjas emerged from the forest, surrounding your blood-soaked clearing in a tight formation. Their hands flashed through signs in perfect synchronization, and the ground beneath your feet began to rumble and crack. You laughed, the sound echoing through the trees as your vectors expanded outward, creating a deadly perimeter.

"Their chakra levels are higher than the others," Obito warned, his body beginning to distort as he activated his Kamui once more. "These must be the jōnin-level hunters." His eye fixed on you with renewed wariness as he added, "Try not to enjoy yourself too much."

Your vectors ripped through the first wave of attackers before they could complete their jutsu, severing limbs and piercing torsos with brutal efficiency. Blood sprayed across the clearing in violent arcs as bodies fell to the forest floor. Two ninjas managed to evade your initial assault, their hands completing the signs for a massive water jutsu that surged toward you like a tidal wave.

Obito's form solidified beside you as the water crashed through the trees. "Behind me!" he shouted, his Mangekyo Sharingan spinning wildly as the jutsu swept toward you both. The water passed harmlessly through his body, but you noticed his eye widen slightly as your vectors sliced through the wave, splitting it down the middle and redirecting its destructive force away from you.

"I know you said not to enjoy myself too much but..." You grinned wildly as the water crashed harmlessly around you both. Your eyes gleamed with dark excitement as you surveyed the carnage surrounding you.

The forest clearing had become a crimson canvas of death. You raised your hands, feeling a new power surge through you as you connected with the spilled blood of your enemies. It responded to your will, rising from the ground in thick, undulating streams.

"What are you doing?" Obito stepped back, his Sharingan tracking the unnatural movement of the blood. The two remaining ninjas froze in horror as their comrades' blood began to move with purpose, swirling into the air like macabre ribbons.

You manipulated the crimson fluid with delicate precision, shaping it into razor-sharp blades that hovered menacingly in the air. The blood hardened under your command, gleaming like polished obsidian in the filtering sunlight.

With a flick of your wrist, you sent the blood-blades whistling through the air toward the last two shinobi. They tried desperately to evade, but the weapons changed direction mid-flight, following your mental commands. The first blood-blade pierced through a ninja's throat, while the second sliced clean through the other's abdomen. They collapsed to the forest floor, adding their own blood to your growing arsenal.

Obito watched you with undisguised wariness, his body halfway between solid and intangible. "Those abilities... they're not from this world either." He kept a calculated distance between you now. "Just how many powers do you possess?"

You smiled enigmatically, the blood-soaked clearing around you a testament to your deadly capabilities. Every body part lying scattered across the forest floor represented years of careful study and acquisition.

"I lost count.... but I got rid of alot... 10 at the most. But they're nothing compared to the array of tricks and techniques the shinobi of this world offer. I find the kunai and paper bombs fascinating," you replied, letting your vectors retract. The suspended ninja's body dropped with a wet thud to the ground, adding another corpse to your macabre collection.

Obito's Sharingan eye narrowed, studying your form with new intensity. "Paper bombs? Such basic tools impress someone who can manipulate blood and tear bodies apart with invisible arms?" He kept his distance, clearly reassessing the threat you posed. The forest had grown unnaturally quiet, as if all wildlife had fled from the slaughter.

"What exactly is your purpose here?" Obito asked, his voice hardening. He stepped over a severed arm, blood squelching beneath his sandals. "These abilities... this bloodlust. Are you merely collecting techniques, or do you have greater ambitions?" His hand hovered near his weapons pouch, ready to draw at any moment.

You knelt beside one of the fallen ninjas, examining their gear with genuine curiosity. The simple effectiveness of their weapons and tools fascinated you - small, practical items that could channel chakra or explode on command. Different from the powers you'd collected, but no less lethal in skilled hands.

You looked up at Obito, blood splattered across your face like war paint. The forest breeze carried the metallic scent of death around you both. "For now, I'm just exploring. Learning. Though I must admit-" you gestured at the carnage surrounding you both, "-this kind of fun is hard to pass up." Your vectors manifested briefly, hovering around you like phantom limbs before vanishing once more.

"But it's as I said. I'm just here for knowledge and adventure," you told Obito, your tone lighter than the blood-soaked scene around you would suggest was appropriate.

You began to stretch casually, arms reaching skyward as your joints popped satisfyingly. Your eyes slid toward Obito, taking note of his defensive stance. Despite your casual demeanor, you recognized the wariness in his posture - the way his weight shifted slightly forward, ready to spring into action or phase through reality at the first sign of threat.

"I have no interest in harming you... there isn't exactly a higher interest or purpose. But I do genuinely love seeing you use that Kamui of yours. With that eye..." You lowered your arms, blood dripping from your fingertips onto the forest floor. "While I'm here. Before I'm ripped away to some other world. I'd like to stay by you. And witness you in action."

Obito's visible eye narrowed, suspicion etched across his scarred features. "You speak as casually about dimensional travel as most people discuss the weather," he said, stepping over a severed arm. "And you find enjoyment in this carnage. Yet you expect me to believe you harbor no greater ambitions?" Despite his words, there was a hint of curiosity in his tone.

You shrugged, wiping some blood from your cheek with the back of your hand. The forest had grown eerily quiet, the only sounds being the wind rustling through the trees and the soft dripping of blood from the dismembered bodies surrounding you both. The remains of the elite tracking ninjas were scattered throughout the clearing, testament to your lethal efficiency.

"I've seen enough 'collectors' to know they rarely stop collecting," Obito said after a moment, though his stance relaxed fractionally. He studied your face, his Sharingan spinning lazily as if trying to peel away your layers. "If you truly wish to stay by my side, understand this - I don't trust you. But I'm curious enough about your abilities to allow it... for now." The forest shadows played across his scarred face as he added, "Just remember that if you ever turn those vectors on me, I'll make sure you never collect another ability again."

"You don't trust me? Super sad face," you said mockingly, placing a hand over your heart in an exaggerated gesture of hurt. The blood spattered across your face made the expression grotesque against the backdrop of dismembered bodies surrounding you both.

You didn't really care if he trusted you. You were used to suspicion and wariness from others. Having traveled through multiple dimensions, trust was a luxury rarely afforded to someone like you - especially when your abilities often left behind scenes like this one.

"Trust is earned," Obito replied coldly, his Sharingan eye never leaving your face. He stepped over a severed torso, the squelch of blood under his sandals adding a macabre soundtrack to the conversation. "Your power is... impressive. But that doesn't mean I want it aimed at my back."

You wiped a splatter of blood from your cheek, smearing it rather than cleaning it. The crimson forest around you had fallen silent except for the occasional drip of blood from the trees where your vectors had flung parts of your victims. You found the wariness in Obito's eye amusing rather than offensive.

"Fair enough," you conceded with a casual shrug. "I can respect that. Should we head out before reinforcements arrive? I'm happy to continue our... friendly debate about trust while walking." You gestured toward the forest path ahead, deliberately stepping on a ninja's hand as you moved forward, bones crunching under your weight.

Obito regarded you for a long moment, his scarred face unreadable except for the calculating look in his mismatched eyes. "Let's move then," he finally agreed, falling into step beside you but maintaining a careful distance. "But remember, Raven - I've played this game before. I've been both the manipulator and the manipulated. I won't be either with you." His body briefly flickered with transparency, a casual reminder of how easily he could escape if needed.

"I'd rather you be yourself," you said suddenly, breaking the tense silence between you. Your eyes tracked the last shimmer of his phasing ability as his body solidified completely once more.

Obito's visible eye widened slightly at your unexpected words. "Myself? Which version would that be?" There was a bitter edge to his question as he scanned the trees ahead.

You pointed upward toward the dense canopy. "Besides, I wouldn't kill you to take your ability. Not with intuitive aptitude. I was thinking we should 'vibe' instead." Without waiting for a response, you jumped into the tree line, landing gracefully on a thick branch. Blood still dripped from your clothes, leaving dark spots on the bark beneath your feet.

Obito followed with fluid ninja precision, moving branch to branch beside you through the forest canopy. He seemed to consider your words carefully, his scarred face partially hidden by shadows cast by the leaves above. "Vibe?" he repeated the unfamiliar term with skepticism. "Your dialect is as foreign as your abilities."

You balanced effortlessly on a narrow branch, looking back at your companion with amusement. For weeks now, you'd been calling him "Obi-one" in reference to a character from another universe entirely, and he had yet to correct you. Perhaps he found some small comfort in the nickname-a reminder that he wasn't just the monster history would remember him as.

The forest grew thicker around you both, offering better cover from any remaining pursuers. You increased your pace, vectors occasionally stretching out to help propel you forward through particularly dense patches of foliage. The blood-soaked clearing faded behind you, but the metallic scent of death still clung to your clothes like a grim perfume.

Night was settling over the forest as you leapt from branch to branch, the darkness deepening between the trees. The scent of blood still clung to your clothes, mixing with the earthy smell of the forest floor far below.

"Which version? How many versions do you have?" you asked curiously, glancing over at Obito as he moved silently beside you. His form was becoming harder to make out as twilight faded into full darkness, the scarred side of his face catching what little moonlight filtered through the leaves.

Obito didn't answer immediately. He landed on a thick branch, pausing momentarily as his single eye scanned the terrain ahead. "I've worn many masks," he finally replied, his voice low and contemplative. "The boy who dreamed of becoming Hokage. The broken tool Madara shaped. The monster who called himself Tobi. The man who sought redemption too late." There was no self-pity in his tone, only a cold statement of facts.

"Vibe," you began to explain, changing the subject as you both resumed your journey through the darkening canopy. The moonlight was stronger now, casting silver patterns across your path. "It's like getting along really well. Like feeding off each other in a pleasant way. Taking in personality traits from one another due to all the time spent... like friends. I don't know what you call it in this world." You kept your explanation deliberately vague, concealing that "vibing" was actually another method of ability acquisition you'd developed - one that didn't require dissection or death.

Obito made a sound that might have been a humorless laugh. He glanced sideways at you, his Sharingan gleaming red in the darkness. "We don't call it anything because shinobi aren't supposed to form such bonds. We're weapons first, people second." Despite his words, there was something in his tone - a hint of regret, perhaps, for the connections he'd severed throughout his life.

You landed softly on a high branch overlooking a small clearing, the night air cool against your blood-spattered skin. Below, a stream glittered in the moonlight, offering a chance to wash away the evidence of your earlier carnage. "We should rest here," Obito suggested, his voice cutting through the chorus of night insects that had begun their evening songs. "If more trackers are following, they won't reach this position until morning." He studied you with that calculating gaze again, as if still trying to determine exactly what kind of weapon - or monster - you might be.

Chapter Text

"That sounds like high key trash," you said, your tone dismissive as you landed beside him on the branch. The moonlight played across your blood-spattered skin, casting eerie shadows across your features.

Your vectors stretched outward from your body, invisible tendrils mapping the perimeter of the clearing below. They slithered through undergrowth and around tree trunks, creating an unseen web of surveillance that nothing could penetrate without your knowledge.

"If anything or anyone makes it within 25 meters of us, I'll know," you assured him, settling yourself against the trunk of the tree. You wiped some dried blood from your cheek, the flakes drifting down toward the stream below like macabre confetti.

Obito's Sharingan eye narrowed slightly at your dismissal of shinobi philosophy. "You speak like someone who's never had to sacrifice connections for duty," he said quietly, though there was a hint of something else in his voice - perhaps envy for your freedom from such constraints.

He knelt on the branch, one hand resting against the rough bark as he continued to study you. His scarred face looked almost skeletal in the harsh shadows cast by the moonlight filtering through the leaves. "Those 'bonds' you value so highly... they're what broke me. What broke this entire world, again and again."

You tilted your head, regarding him with genuine curiosity rather than judgment. The stream below gurgled softly, offering a peaceful counterpoint to the tension between you. Despite the blood cooling on your skin and the bodies you'd left behind, there was something almost tranquil about this moment - two killers resting in the darkness, discussing philosophy like old friends.

"You sound fragile. People die all the time. Hell, even I've experienced death. It's not that bad. I've even accidentally caused a dimensional incursion or two," you said casually, watching Obito's reaction.

The moonlight cast harsh shadows across his scarred face as he turned to stare at you. His Sharingan gleamed blood-red in the darkness, narrowing slightly at your cavalier tone.

A thought suddenly struck you, making you pause. The night breeze rustled through the leaves around you both, carrying the distant hoots of an owl. "Or maybe I'm just desensitized," you added more softly, your voice barely audible above the gentle gurgling of the stream below.

Obito was silent for a long moment, his expression unreadable in the half-shadow. "Desensitized..." he finally echoed, the word hanging between you like a tangible thing. "Perhaps that's what happened to all of us. The world breaks you enough times, you stop feeling the cracks." He turned his gaze toward the moon, visible in patches through the canopy above.

"Death. Dimensional incursions. You speak of things that would terrify most as if discussing the weather," Obito continued, his voice dropping lower. He shifted his position on the branch, his back now resting against the trunk across from you. "In my pursuit of the ideal world, I justified countless horrors. Perhaps we're not so different after all."

The night insects resumed their chorus around you both, filling the silence that followed his words. Your vectors remained stretched invisibly around the perimeter, a deadly web ensuring your safety as you both rested in this moment of strange understanding. Two monsters recognizing each other in the dark.

You snickered at Obito, the sound cutting through the night's stillness. Something about his philosophical brooding struck you as darkly amusing - here was a man who had nearly destroyed the world, contemplating the nature of desensitization.

"Ah yes. I've heard the tales. You tried to do some Moon's Eye Plan that would ensnare the entire world... now that's crazy." Your tone was light, almost playful, despite the weight of what you were discussing. Moonlight filtered through the leaves, dappling your blood-stained skin with silver patches.

Obito's Sharingan eye narrowed, his scarred face tightening. "You know nothing of what drove me to that point," he said, voice low and dangerous. "The plan would have ended all suffering. Everyone would have lived in perfect dreams of their own making."

You sat down on the branch and crossed your legs, finding a comfortable position against the rough bark. The night breeze carried the metallic scent of drying blood from your clothes, mingling with the earthy smell of the forest. Your vectors remained stretched invisibly around the perimeter, alert to any intrusion.

"You act as if I'm such a threat yet you've pulled something like that. I think you're secretly crazier than me." Your lips curled into a smirk as you studied his reaction. There was something fascinating about this scarred man who had been willing to reshape reality itself.

Obito didn't respond immediately. He stared at you with his mismatched eyes, one dark and deep, the other glowing red with the power of the Sharingan. "Perhaps," he finally admitted, his voice barely audible over the gentle babbling of the stream below. "But my madness had purpose. What's yours?" The question hung between you, another layer to the strange connection forming between two killers in the moonlight.

You gazed up at the moon peeking through the canopy, its silvery light catching on your blood-flecked skin. "Forced interdimensional travel... what should I do knowing full well I won't be staying in any one place for long? There is no purpose in it. Just flow." The words fell from your lips with surprising softness, a rare moment of genuine reflection.

Obito's eye widened slightly, his scarred face shifting as he processed your answer. "To simply flow... like water?" He looked down at the stream below, its surface glittering with moonlight. "There's wisdom in that I hadn't expected from someone who tears bodies apart with such enthusiasm."

You shrugged, a smirk playing at the corners of your mouth. The night breeze carried the metallic scent of dried blood from your clothes, mixing with the earthy smells of the forest. Your vectors remained stretched invisibly around you both, unseen sentinels monitoring the darkness.

"When you've been ripped from world to world as many times as I have, you learn to adapt rather than resist," you explained, trailing your fingers along the rough bark of the branch. "I used to fight it... used to try building something permanent. Now I just collect what interests me and move on."

A twig snapped somewhere in the darkness below, and your vectors immediately tensed, ready to strike. Both of you froze, listening intently as the forest seemed to hold its breath. After several heartbeats of silence, a small deer emerged into the moonlight by the stream, unaware of the two predators watching from above.

Obito's gaze returned to you, calculating and curious. "To flow without purpose... to simply exist in the moment..." His voice was contemplative, almost wistful. "I spent my life obsessed with remaking reality, and you spend yours simply experiencing each reality as it comes." He leaned his head back against the trunk, his Sharingan never leaving your face. "I can't decide if that's wisdom or madness."

"Both. Maybe I can drag you with me next time. Isn't like your welcomed here. Literally have a bounty on you head... maybe you could just... forget this place. Like I will," you said, watching his expression carefully in the dappled moonlight.

Obito stiffened, his Sharingan eye widening slightly before narrowing. He turned his gaze back toward the stream below, where the deer continued to drink, oblivious to the predators above. "Forget this world?" There was a strange tension in his voice. "This world contains what remains of the only things I ever truly cared about."

You shifted on the branch, blood flaking from your clothes as you moved. Your vectors remained stretched invisibly around you both, a protective web detecting every rustle of leaves and midnight creature. The suggestion seemed to have struck a nerve with the scarred Uchiha.

"Besides," Obito continued after a moment, his tone growing harder, "what makes you think you can control which souls get dragged along when you're pulled between dimensions? You speak of it like it's a certainty, not a possibility." He turned to face you fully, moonlight catching the deep scars on his face, highlighting their brutal geography.

You shrugged, a slight smile playing at your lips. The night air was cool against your skin, the forest around you alive with small sounds that your vectors registered like touches against invisible fingers. There was something electrifying about the tension between you both - two killers with different philosophies, resting in the trees like predatory birds.

"Nothing's certain," you admitted, tilting your face toward the glimpses of starry sky visible through the canopy. "But I've pulled people through before. Sometimes by accident, sometimes not." The memory of past companions flickered through your mind - some who had chosen to follow you, others who had been caught in the dimensional rift unwillingly. None had lasted long. Perhaps Obito, with his own space-time abilities, would be different.

Silence fell between you and Obito, heavy and awkward. The forest sounds seemed to amplify in the stillness - the gentle babble of the stream below, the rustling of leaves, the occasional hoot of a distant owl. You sat there on your respective branches, two killers under moonlight, neither speaking.

You fed on the tension, finding a certain pleasure in the discomfort that radiated from the scarred Uchiha. His rigid posture and averted gaze told you everything about his unease with your casual discussion of dimensional travel and dragging him along.

"You look warm and cozy over there. Snuggles?" you said jokingly, your lips curling into a teasing smile as you broke the silence. Your blood-spattered appearance made the innocent question seem almost grotesque.

Obito's head snapped toward you, his Sharingan eye widening momentarily before narrowing into a suspicious glare. "Your attempts at humor are as disturbing as your combat methods," he muttered, though there was a hint of something else beneath his harsh tone - perhaps amusement, or simply disbelief at your audacity.

You chuckled softly, the sound mingling with the night breeze that carried the metallic scent of dried blood from your clothes. Your vectors remained stretched out around you both, invisible sentinels in the darkness. "You should rest," Obito said after a moment, his voice quieter now. "I'll take first watch. Those trackers won't be the last to come after us."

You leaned back against the tree trunk, making yourself comfortable on the wide branch. Moonlight filtered through the leaves above, casting dappled silver patterns across your skin and clothes, highlighting the dark stains of dried blood. "Sweet dreams, Obi-one," you murmured, closing your eyes but keeping your vectors fully extended and alert. "Don't worry - my invisible friends will wake us if anyone comes too close."

Silence fell between you and Obito, heavy and awkward. The forest sounds seemed to amplify in the stillness - the gentle babble of the stream below, the rustling of leaves, the occasional hoot of a distant owl. You sat there on your respective branches, two killers under moonlight, neither speaking.

You fed on the tension, finding a certain pleasure in the discomfort that radiated from the scarred Uchiha. His rigid posture and averted gaze told you everything about his unease with your casual discussion of dimensional travel and dragging him along.

"You look warm and cozy over there. Snuggles?" you said jokingly, your lips curling into a teasing smile as you broke the silence. Your blood-spattered appearance made the innocent question seem almost grotesque.

Obito's head snapped toward you, his Sharingan eye widening momentarily before narrowing into a suspicious glare. "Your attempts at humor are as disturbing as your combat methods," he muttered, though there was a hint of something else beneath his harsh tone - perhaps amusement, or simply disbelief at your audacity.

You chuckled softly, the sound mingling with the night breeze that carried the metallic scent of dried blood from your clothes. Your vectors remained stretched out around you both, invisible sentinels in the darkness. "You should rest," Obito said after a moment, his voice quieter now. "I'll take first watch. Those trackers won't be the last to come after us."

You leaned back against the tree trunk, making yourself comfortable on the wide branch. Moonlight filtered through the leaves above, casting dappled silver patterns across your skin and clothes, highlighting the dark stains of dried blood. "Sweet dreams, Obi-one," you murmured, closing your eyes but keeping your vectors fully extended and alert. "Don't worry - my invisible friends will wake us if anyone comes too close."

"They're active whether I'm conscious or not," you added, noting the skeptical look in Obito's visible eye. Your vectors stretched invisibly through the surrounding forest, creating an unseen perimeter of deadly protection around your makeshift camp.

You attempted to stretch out on the branch, your body stiff from the day's combat. The rough bark dug uncomfortably into your back as you shifted positions, trying to find some semblance of comfort on the unyielding surface. "Damn, this shinobi life is trash," you muttered, finally settling into a slightly less painful position. "Kind of miss being a millionaire in that other dimension."

Obito's eyebrow raised slightly, his scarred face caught in a shaft of moonlight that broke through the leaves. "Millionaire?" The concept seemed to amuse him, a brief flicker of interest crossing his usually guarded expression. "What exactly did you do in this other dimension that made you so wealthy?"

You cracked one eye open, studying his face in the silvery light. Blood still flaked from your clothes as you shifted positions again, the branch creaking softly beneath your weight. A bitter smile played across your lips as memories of your former life flickered behind your eyes - mansions, servants, power of a different kind.

"You'd be surprised what people will pay for certain... services," you said cryptically, your tone deliberately ambiguous. "Let's just say I had talents that were highly valued. Now I'm sleeping on a damn tree branch with a war criminal." The last part came out with a dark chuckle as you finally closed your eyes again, your vectors maintaining their deadly vigilance in the darkness surrounding you both.

Obito watched you for a long moment, his Sharingan glowing softly in the darkness like an ember. "War criminal..." he echoed quietly, more to himself than to you. He turned his gaze back to the forest, scanning the shadows between the trees. "Rest while you can. Tomorrow won't be any kinder than today." Something in his voice suggested he was speaking from years of bitter experience, each day of his life another battle to be fought, another burden to be carried.

Chapter Text

"I made music," you said abruptly, your voice cutting through the night air. "That's how I got rich. Created sounds that made people feel things they'd never felt before." You weren't entirely sure why you'd shared that detail - perhaps some small part of you wanted him to see beyond the blood-soaked killer he'd witnessed today.

Obito's scarred face turned toward you, surprise briefly visible in his mismatched eyes before his expression settled back into careful neutrality. "Music?" There was a hint of something softer in his voice - not quite disbelief, but close to it. "Hard to imagine those vectors crafting melodies instead of dismembering bodies."

You closed your eyes, memories of concert halls and recording studios flickering behind your eyelids like distant dreams. The violent path you'd carved through this world seemed worlds apart from the life you'd once led, yet it was all part of the same journey - your journey through realities, collecting what interested you as you went.

"Don't need to imagine it," you murmured, already drifting toward sleep. "Won't be here long enough for it to matter anyway." Despite the imminent threat of more hunters, despite the hard branch beneath your back and the dried blood caking your skin, you felt your consciousness slipping away. Your vectors remained fully extended around the perimeter, invisible sentinels that would alert you to any approach.

Obito watched in silent disbelief as your breathing evened out, your face relaxing into sleep despite the precariousness of your situation. "You truly are from another world," he whispered, more to himself than to you. The moonlight caught the scars on his face as he settled into his watch, his back straight against the trunk, his Sharingan gleaming in the darkness.

Your vectors pulsed gently around the forest clearing, maintaining their deadly vigilance even as you slept. Dreams of distant dimensions and forgotten melodies danced behind your closed eyelids, a momentary respite from the blood and violence that seemed to follow you across every reality you touched.

The first rays of dawn broke through the forest canopy, painting the leaves with golden light. Your eyes snapped open instantly, consciousness returning with sharp clarity as your vectors registered movement-steady footfalls approaching from the east, precisely 25 meters away. The vibrations traveled through your invisible extensions like ripples in still water.

You leapt silently to Obito's branch, where he sat in the same vigilant position he'd maintained all night. His Sharingan eye tracked your movement, already alert despite hours without rest. You placed your hand gently on his shoulder, feeling the tension in his muscles.

"They're coming," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the morning birdsong. Your vectors stretched further east, mapping the exact position and number of the approaching threat. "25-now 24 meters away."

Obito nodded once, his scarred face betraying no emotion as he rose to his feet in one fluid motion. "How many?" he asked, his voice low and rough from the night's silence. His hand moved to the kunai at his belt, the metal catching the dawn light with a dull gleam.

You closed your eyes briefly, focusing on the feedback from your vectors as they silently mapped the approaching force. The familiar thrill of impending violence quickened your pulse, washing away the last vestiges of sleep from your mind. "Six. Moving in standard formation. Likely jonin-level." A small smile played at the corners of your mouth despite the danger. "Seems the Mizukage is taking us seriously now."

Obito's eye narrowed as he assessed the situation, his body already half-phased as he prepared his Kamui. "We could avoid this confrontation entirely," he suggested, though the hard edge in his voice suggested he knew what your answer would be. You grinned in response, your vectors stretching out like eager predators sensing prey. The dried blood on your clothes flaked away as you moved, dark particles floating down toward the stream below like macabre cherry blossoms.

"We could, but then they would increase in numbers wouldn't they? Then they'd send out more skilled shinobi. I'm sure the Mizukage is aware of your threat level. He wants your head.. avoidance doesn't sound like an option."

You stretched your vectors further, mapping the precise movements of the approaching ninja squad. Their careful, synchronized patterns suggested extensive training in hunting high-value targets. A predatory smile played across your lips as the familiar excitement of impending violence coursed through you.

Obito considered your words, his scarred face half-illuminated by the golden dawn light filtering through the leaves. "You have a point," he conceded, his voice low. "If the Mizukage has committed resources to our elimination, retreat will only delay the inevitable." His Sharingan spun lazily as he surveyed the terrain below, calculating angles of attack.

"They've split into two groups," he observed, pointing to positions your vectors had already detected. "Three approaching from the east, three circling to cut off escape routes to the west." A hint of dark amusement colored his tone. "They believe they have us trapped."

You felt the vibrations through your vectors as one of the hunters stepped onto a branch exactly 20 meters away. The ninja froze, sensing something wrong but unable to identify the invisible threat surrounding him. "Let's show them how wrong they are," you whispered, your vectors coiling like serpents ready to strike.

Without warning, you sent a vector slicing through the branch beneath the nearest ninja's feet. His startled cry shattered the dawn stillness as he plummeted downward, only to be impaled mid-fall by another vector that punched through his chest in a spray of crimson. The hunt had begun.

The remaining five ninjas scattered instantly, their forms blurring with speed as they sought cover. You remained perfectly still on your branch, vectors extending invisibly through the forest like deadly phantom limbs. One hunter crouched behind a thick trunk, hands forming signs for a water jutsu. Your vector sliced through the bark and his spine simultaneously, the ninja's eyes widening in shock as his jutsu died unformed on his lips.

"They can't track the source of your attacks," Obito observed, his Sharingan eye following the disturbances your vectors created in the air. He remained beside you, conserving his energy while you dismantled the hunting party with brutal efficiency.

You sent two vectors stretching in opposite directions, attacking from completely contradictory angles. One severed a ninja's arm as he leapt between trees, while the other punched through another hunter's chest from below. Blood rained down through the forest canopy as the bodies fell. The remaining two ninjas froze in confusion, unable to determine where the attacks originated.

"It's coming from everywhere!" one shouted, panic evident in his voice as he backed against a tree trunk. "We need to-" His words died in a gurgle as your vector pierced his throat, blood spraying across the bark behind him.

The last ninja broke cover, sprinting desperately through the trees. You tracked his movement easily, letting him believe escape was possible before sending a vector whistling through the morning air. It caught him mid-jump between branches, slicing clean through his torso. The two halves of his body fell separately to the forest floor with a sickening thud.

"Too easy," you remarked, retracting your blood-slicked vectors back toward your body. The entire encounter had lasted less than thirty seconds. Six elite hunters dispatched without either you or Obito having to move from your perch. The forest had fallen silent again, even the birds shocked into stillness by the swift violence. You glanced at Obito, noting the calculated assessment in his mismatched eyes as he studied your relaxed posture. "What now, partner? More will come, but we've bought ourselves some time."

"Maybe next time we can send back a survivor so they can report back what they're up against. That'll be fun... maybe we can track them back to their commanders," you mused, your lips curving into a predatory smile. The morning sunlight filtered through the leaves, highlighting the dark stains covering your clothes and skin.

Obito's Sharingan studied you with renewed interest. "Using their own tracking team against them," he said, a hint of approval in his normally guarded voice. "I didn't take you for a strategist."

You extended your vectors toward the stream below, allowing the invisible appendages to dip into the cool water. With careful precision, you manipulated your ghostly limbs to collect moisture and bring it back to clean the dried blood from your skin and clothes. The water darkened to rust as it washed away the evidence of yesterday's slaughter.

"There's more to me than just dismembering bodies," you replied with a casual shrug. The blood flaked away under your vectors' gentle ministrations, revealing clean skin underneath. "Tracking them back could lead us straight to whoever's coordinating these attacks. Cut off the head of the snake, and all that."

Obito watched your unusual cleaning method with fascination, his scarred face partially hidden in the dappled shadows of the forest canopy. "The Mizukage would never personally lead such an operation," he said, his voice thoughtful. He glanced down at the bodies scattered across the forest floor, blood soaking into the earth beneath them. "But finding their field commander could prove... informative."

You swept your gaze across the grisly scene below, the six corpses sprawled in unnatural positions among the underbrush. Birds had begun to return to the area, their morning songs creating an eerily peaceful soundtrack to the aftermath of violence. "We should move soon. I'm sure they have protocols for when teams don't report back." You stood on the branch, your now-cleaner clothes still damp from your makeshift washing. The excitement of the hunt tingled beneath your skin as you contemplated the path ahead.

You leapt from your perch, vectors propelling you forward as you began moving through the dense forest canopy again. The morning sun filtered through the leaves, creating dappled patterns on your still-damp clothes.

"We're going to have a long day," you said as you jumped to the next branch. The wood creaked slightly beneath your feet before you pushed off again, maintaining a steady rhythm alongside Obito. His scarred face remained impassive, but his Sharingan eye constantly scanned the surroundings.

"We can decide when and where they'll find us. My 25 meter range gives me an advantage on their location before they're even aware of our exact position," you explained, your vectors stretching outward invisibly, mapping the terrain ahead while monitoring for any approaching threats.

Obito nodded curtly, his body occasionally phasing through branches that would have slowed his progress. "Your abilities give us a tactical edge," he admitted. "But don't underestimate the tracking jutsu of the Hidden Mist. They've hunted missing-nin through worse conditions than this." The morning light caught the scars on his face as he glanced at you, his expression unreadable.

A flock of birds suddenly took flight about thirty meters ahead, their panicked calls breaking the forest's relative calm. Your vectors immediately registered movement - not ninjas yet, but something had disturbed the wildlife. You raised your hand, signaling Obito to slow his pace.

"Another patrol?" Obito whispered, dropping into a defensive crouch on a thick branch beside you. You concentrated, extending your vectors to their maximum range, feeling for any human presence nearby. The forest seemed to hold its breath as you both waited, poised between fight and flight, the corpses of your previous attackers growing distant behind you.

Your vectors stretched to their limit, probing the disturbance ahead that had scattered the birds. You narrowed your eyes, focusing on the very edge of your sensory range where something moved just beyond your reach.

"Whatever it is, it's just out of my range... seems a little sloppy for shinobi," you muttered, a note of suspicion in your voice. The morning sunlight filtered through the canopy, dappling your face as you concentrated on extending your vectors just a fraction further.

Obito's Sharingan eye narrowed, its tomoe spinning lazily as he scanned the forest ahead. "Maybe that's intentional," he whispered, his body already half-phased in preparation. "Staying just beyond detection range while herding us toward something-or someone."

You retracted your vectors slightly, reconfiguring their formation to create a denser defensive perimeter. The forest had gone unnaturally quiet now, with not even the rustle of leaves disturbing the tense silence. Whatever had scattered the birds was either staying perfectly still or moving with exceptional stealth.

A slight breeze carried the scent of saltwater, unusual this far inland. Obito caught it too, his scarred face tensing as he recognized the implication. "Hidden Mist technique," he breathed, his voice barely audible. "They're creating conditions for an ambush. We need to move-now."

You felt the change in air pressure before you saw it-a subtle shift that your vectors registered a split second before a wall of dense fog rolled toward you both with unnatural speed. The mist swallowed the forest ahead, turning familiar terrain into a featureless white void as it advanced. Your smile grew wider, the thrill of impending combat sending adrenaline coursing through your veins as you prepared to face whatever hunted you from within the artificial fog.

Chapter Text

"I think not," you said coolly as the dense fog billowed toward you both.

You closed your eyes briefly, shifting your focus inward as you accessed one of your many collected abilities. The familiar sensation of airbending flooded through you, replacing the deadly vectors with a different kind of power entirely. The air around you began to swirl and dance to your command.

You thrust both hands forward, unleashing a massive gust that tore through the advancing mist. The unnatural fog shredded under your assault, dissolving into wispy tatters that revealed four masked figures standing frozen in shock at their exposed position. Their hand signs halted mid-formation as their concealment vanished.

"Impressive," Obito murmured beside you, his Sharingan eye spinning faster as he assessed the new threat. "Air manipulation without signs or chakra?" His voice held a note of genuine surprise.

You scanned the dissipating mist particles carefully, searching for any signs of poison or hallucinogenic compounds that might have been mixed into the jutsu. Finding none, you turned your attention to the exposed attackers who were already regrouping, their hands blurring through new formations.

"Just one of my many talents," you replied with a smirk, already shifting back to your vectors as the mist-users charged forward. Your invisible appendages shot out, eager to taste blood once more as the hunters became the hunted.

Your vectors reappeared in a flash of deadly movement, slicing clean through the wrist of the nearest shinobi. His hand dropped to the forest floor along with his half-completed jutsu sign, blood spraying in a crimson arc as he howled in pain.

Not pausing for a moment, your second vector wrapped tightly around another attacker's ankle. You grinned wildly as you flicked your wrist, sending the surprised ninja flying backward with tremendous force. His body crashed through several trees with sickening cracks before disappearing into the dense foliage.

"Behind you!" Obito warned, his body already phasing as three water dragons erupted from the remaining shinobi's coordinated jutsu. You didn't bother turning around, simply extending your vectors backward to impale the third attacker through his chest while effortlessly dodging the water dragons.

The fourth ninja - clearly the leader of this team - backed away, his eyes widening behind his mask as he witnessed your effortless dismantling of his elite squad. "What... what are you?" he whispered, hands trembling as he formed another set of signs.

You tilted your head slightly, watching him with predatory fascination. The blood from his comrades dripped from your invisible vectors, forming small crimson puddles at your feet. "Just a tourist," you replied with a casual shrug before sending your vectors toward him with lightning speed.

The captain's body crumpled to the ground in six neat pieces, his jutsu dying unformed on his lips. You wiped a fleck of blood from your cheek, turning to face Obito with a satisfied smile. "That was refreshing. Shall we continue?" The forest had fallen silent once more, the only sound the gentle dripping of blood from the trees where your vectors had decorated the canopy with viscera.

You surveyed the carnage around you, a sudden realization dawning on your face. The dismembered bodies of the Hidden Mist hunters lay scattered across the forest floor in pools of crimson. Your vectors, now invisible again, had been thorough-perhaps too thorough.

"I forgot to let one live," you said with genuine disappointment, kicking at a severed arm near your feet. The limb rolled limply across the blood-soaked ground. "That would've been useful for tracking back to their commander."

Obito stepped carefully over a torso split neatly in half, his Sharingan scanning the surrounding forest for any signs of additional threats. "Your enthusiasm got the better of you," he remarked dryly, though there was a hint of dark amusement in his voice. "Next time, perhaps restrain yourself to maiming rather than killing all of them."

You crouched down beside the most intact corpse - the team captain whose body you'd separated into six neat pieces. His mask had fallen away, revealing a young face frozen in an expression of terror. You reached out and plucked a small scroll from his vest pocket, turning it over curiously in your blood-stained hands.

"What's this? Orders, perhaps?" You handed the scroll to Obito, watching as he carefully unrolled it with his scarred fingers. His Sharingan eye narrowed as he scanned the contents, his expression darkening with each passing second.

"This changes things," he said quietly, rolling the scroll back up and slipping it into his own pocket. "It seems we've been declared S-rank threats to be eliminated on sight. The bounty on my head has tripled, and they've placed one on yours as well." He looked at you with renewed intensity, his gaze lingering on the blood splatter patterns across your face. "Congratulations. You've made quite an impression on the Five Kages in record time."

"Yay! Now I'm cool like you!" You sarcastically kicked your feet together, the childish gesture creating a grotesque contrast against the backdrop of dismembered bodies and pooling blood. Your vectors swirled invisibly around you, still alert for any additional threats lurking in the forest.

Obito stared at you, his scarred face unreadable except for the slightest twitch at the corner of his mouth. "Being hunted by the Five Kages isn't something to celebrate," he said, though his tone held a hint of dark amusement. He stepped over a severed arm, moving closer to examine the remains of the squad leader. "But I suppose in your case, it's a perverse form of recognition."

You crouched down beside one of the fallen ninja, casually rifling through their pockets for anything useful. The blood soaking into your clothes didn't seem to bother you in the slightest as your fingers closed around a small pouch of soldier pills and a map marked with patrol routes. "Recognition is recognition. Besides, doesn't this mean I'm officially part of your world now? Not just some random interdimensional tourist?"

"Part of this world until you're pulled away to the next one," Obito remarked, his Sharingan scanning the forest perimeter continuously. He knelt to examine something on the ground, a small communication device that had fallen from one of the ninjas. "We need to move. The Mizukage's forces are coordinating better than I expected. These weren't random patrols-they're using a grid search pattern."

You stood up and stretched casually, vectors retracting to a tighter perimeter around your body. The morning sun filtered through the blood-spattered leaves above, casting dappled crimson patterns across your face like war paint. "So what's next, partner? If they're using a grid pattern, they'll have weak points at the intersections. We could turn the hunt around."

Obito's scarred face hardened, his Sharingan spinning lazily as he considered your suggestion. He pocketed the communication device, his gaze meeting yours with newfound respect despite his wariness. "You think like a shinobi. Yes, we could exploit their formation... or we could go straight for their field commander. According to this-" he tapped the scroll in his pocket, "-they've established a forward base three kilometers northeast. That's where we'll find answers."

You frowned, eyeing the scroll with suspicion. Something about this seemed too convenient-elite shinobi carrying detailed information about a forward base? Your vectors coiled invisibly around you, reflecting your unease.

"Or... it could be a trap. They sent lower level shinobis this time while simultaneously making us an S-class threat. Maybe they intended for us to find this scroll.... tell me... where are the village locations of these 5 Kage?" You tapped the scroll in Obito's hand, your eyes narrowing with tactical suspicion.

Obito's Sharingan eye flashed with surprise, then calculating respect. "You think like a shinobi after all," he acknowledged, unrolling the scroll again. "The Five Great Shinobi Nations are scattered across the continent. Konohagakure to the southeast, Sunagakure in the desert west, Kumogakure in the mountains north, Iwagakure in the rocky highlands northwest, and Kirigakure-the Hidden Mist-on islands to the east." He pointed to rough positions as he spoke, finger tracing invisible lines on the air.

You nodded slowly, processing this information as your vectors silently probed the surrounding forest for any hidden observers. "This scroll could indeed be misinformation," Obito continued, his scarred face serious. "But if it is a trap, that confirms they consider us significant threats. They wouldn't waste resources on elaborate deceptions for minor nuisances."

You knelt beside one of the fallen ninja, studying their equipment more carefully. Their weapons were well-maintained but standard issue, their uniforms unmarked except for the Hidden Mist symbol. Nothing to suggest they were anything but typical hunters. "Doesn't matter if it's a trap or not," you declared with a predatory smile, standing up and facing Obito. "We'll make them regret either way."

"Agreed." Obito's body flickered with transparency for a moment, his Mangekyo Sharingan spinning slowly. "But we approach cautiously. Three kilometers northeast through dense forest gives us the advantage of cover. I suggest we circle wide and observe before engaging." The morning sun filtered through the trees, highlighting the blood spattered across the clearing as you both prepared to move out, the hunt now reversed.

"But maybe... we can use that Kamui of yours and simply bypass them and go straight to Kirigakure...... since the Mizukage has sent the strongest pursuit for us... I could simply destroy the entire village as a warning to the rest," you suggested, wiping blood from your fingertips as a predatory smile spread across your face.

Obito froze mid-step, his Sharingan eye widening at your casual suggestion of village-scale destruction. "Destroy Kirigakure? The entire Hidden Mist Village?" His voice held a mixture of disbelief and dark interest. He studied your face carefully, searching for any sign you were joking.

"Even at the height of my madness, I never contemplated destroying an entire village as a... warning," he said slowly, though something in his tone suggested the idea wasn't entirely repulsive to him. "My Kamui could indeed transport us directly into the village center, but the chakra expenditure would be significant." He touched the scarred side of his face, considering the tactical implications of your suggestion.

You stretched your vectors experimentally, visualizing how they might tear through buildings and people alike. The power thrummed through you, eager for release on a scale you hadn't yet attempted in this world. The blood manipulation ability you'd recently acquired would be particularly effective in a fog-shrouded village built on water.

"The political fallout would be... catastrophic," Obito continued, though he wasn't immediately rejecting the idea. He began pacing, his mind clearly racing through scenarios. "The destruction of one of the Five Great Nations would unite the others against us instantly. We'd face the combined might of the shinobi world."

Your eyes gleamed with excitement at the prospect. The thrill of such overwhelming odds sent adrenaline coursing through you, your vectors quivering invisibly with anticipation. Obito caught your expression and shook his head, but there was the faintest hint of an amused smirk on his scarred lips as he realized what kind of partner he'd acquired - someone possibly even more reckless than he had been at his worst.

"Well that's something you've experienced already, huh? You can transport me there and stay out of it if you like. However, I don't like the idea of continuously running or waiting for a fight. Which is what the Mizukage is doing with constantly sending out men to take my life. I don't know about you, but I'm particularly fond of existing and if they keep pursuing then I intend to snuff them out." Your eyes gleamed with deadly intent as you spoke, vectors coiling invisibly around you like eager serpents.

Obito's expression shifted, the amusement in his eyes hardening into something colder and more calculating. "You speak of genocide as casually as discussing the weather," he said, his voice low. He stepped closer to you, his scarred face partially shadowed by the forest canopy. "The Hidden Mist has thousands of civilians - children, families who know nothing of you or me."

You shrugged, blood still flaking from your clothes as you moved. The morning sunlight filtered through the leaves, dappling your skin with patterns that shifted like living things. "And? They'll keep sending hunters. How many more corpses need to pile up before we address the source?" There was no malice in your tone - just cold practicality that made your words all the more chilling.

Obito studied you with newfound intensity, his Sharingan spinning slowly as if trying to see beyond your casual bloodlust. "Even during my darkest days with Akatsuki, we didn't slaughter entire villages without purpose," he said, though his tone suggested he wasn't entirely rejecting your idea. He ran his hand through his spiky hair, a gesture that made him look momentarily younger, more like the boy he'd once been before tragedy rewrote him. "There are other ways to send messages. More... targeted approaches."

You paced in a small circle, your vectors extending and retracting with each step like a predator flexing its claws. The bodies around you were already attracting flies, the buzzing creating a grim soundtrack to your deliberation. "Fine. We target the Mizukage, then. Cut off the head directly." You stopped pacing and faced Obito, tilting your head questioningly. "Your Kamui could get us right to him, couldn't it? No more running, no more ambushes. Just one clean strike."

Obito's lips curved into a thin, dangerous smile that transformed his scarred face. "Now that is more my style," he admitted, his body flickering with transparency as he activated his Mangekyo partially. "The Mizukage's residence is heavily guarded, but with my space-time ninjutsu and your... unique abilities, we could bypass their defenses entirely." He extended his hand toward you, his mismatched eyes holding yours. "Are you ready to make yourself truly infamous in this world, Raven?"

Chapter Text

"Will Kamui make me sick?" you asked, eyeing his outstretched hand with sudden hesitation. Your vectors coiled nervously around you, reflecting your unexpected concern about something as mundane as nausea when you'd just been casually discussing assassination and genocide.

Obito's eyebrow raised slightly, his scarred face registering mild surprise at your question. "Most experience disorientation their first time," he admitted, his hand remaining extended. "The sensation of passing between dimensions can be... unsettling."

You took his hand, your fingers closing around his with unexpected warmth. Despite the blood caked under your fingernails and the casual brutality you'd displayed moments ago, there was something almost vulnerable in the way your eyebrows knitted together with worry. The thought of warping could send you into nausea - an oddly human concern from someone who had just torn apart six elite ninjas without blinking.

"Just... give me warning before we go," you muttered, your grip tightening slightly on his hand. Your vectors wavered around you, reflecting your unease as Obito's Mangekyo Sharingan began to spin faster, the air around you both starting to distort like heat waves rising from hot pavement.

"Brace yourself," Obito warned, his body already beginning to twist and warp as his dimension-altering jutsu activated fully. His hand gripped yours firmly, anchoring you as reality itself seemed to bend and spiral around your bodies. "Focus on your breathing and keep your eyes closed if it helps."

The forest around you began to fracture like breaking glass, your stomach lurching violently as your body was pulled into the void of Obito's Kamui dimension. Your vectors spasmed wildly, reaching for purchase in a space that defied normal physics. The sensation was like being torn apart and reconstructed simultaneously - your collected abilities momentarily scrambling before settling back into your consciousness as you both materialized in the swirling, cube-filled emptiness of Obito's personal dimension, the first step on your path to confronting the Mizukage.

"Oh my god," you gasped as the warping sensation finally ceased. Your vectors, usually so precise and controlled, flailed wildly around you like invisible tentacles seeking anchor in this bizarre realm. Giant cubic structures floated in the void around you, defying all laws of physics you understood.

Your eyes gleamed with pleasure at experiencing Obito's ability. The disorientation hit you in waves, your balance failing as you stumbled forward. Your fingers instinctively grasped onto the fabric that lined his torso, bunching the black material as you tried to steady yourself. Obito remained perfectly still, allowing you to use him as support while watching your reaction with mild curiosity.

"Most find their first journey through dimensions... unpleasant," he observed, his scarred face impassive as you clung to him. His Sharingan eye studied you carefully, perhaps searching for signs of the typical nausea or disorientation that afflicted first-time travelers.

Once the spinning sensation subsided, you finally stabilized your footing. A strange, giddy feeling bubbled up inside you, completely at odds with your blood-soaked appearance and the grim task ahead. You started dancing stupidly around Obito, your movements echoing strangely in the dimensional void as your vectors swirled around you like excited ribbons.

"Oh my god that was so fun. Like a water slide!" you exclaimed, twirling one more time before stopping in front of him. The sensation hadn't actually been enjoyable at all - it had been like having your molecules ripped apart and hastily reassembled - but you couldn't help thinking about how useful such an ability would be once it was yours. Your eyes traced the path of Obito's dimensional technique, mentally cataloging how it worked and how you might acquire it.

Obito's visible eyebrow raised slightly, clearly taken aback by your unexpected reaction. "You're... certainly unique," he muttered, shaking his head slightly. "We won't stay here long. This dimension connects to any point in our world. When we emerge, we'll be directly inside the Mizukage's residence." He turned away from you, already focusing his chakra to prepare for the next jump, unaware of how you studied his technique with hungry eyes, not merely admiring it but calculating how to make it your own.

"How long could you have escaped here instead of letting me kill all those people?" you suddenly asked, your playful demeanor vanishing instantly. Your vectors stilled around you as the realization dawned. This dimension-this sanctuary outside reality-had been available the entire time.

You deadpanned as you looked at him, your eyes narrowing and lips pressing into a thin line. The floating cubic structures cast eerie shadows across your blood-spattered face as you processed what this meant. All those deaths, all those dismembered bodies left behind in the forest, had potentially been unnecessary.

"You could have done this, this whole time?" you asked, your voice dropping dangerously low. Your vectors began coiling around you like agitated serpents, reflecting the sudden tension radiating from your body.

Obito turned slowly to face you, his scarred face impassive but his Sharingan eye calculating, clearly measuring the shift in your mood. "Kamui requires significant chakra," he explained carefully, watching your vectors' agitated movements. "Transporting two people this distance would have left me vulnerable. Besides..." He stepped closer to you, his mismatched gaze holding yours with unexpected intensity. "I wanted to see what you were capable of. I needed to know if you were worth the risk."

You folded your arms across your chest, blood flaking from your clothes as you moved. The bizarre dimension around you seemed to pulse slightly, as if responding to the tension between you both. "So it was a test," you said flatly. "You risked both our lives instead of bringing us here immediately." Despite your accusatory tone, a small part of you couldn't help but admire his ruthless pragmatism-it mirrored your own.

Obito's lips curved into a thin smirk, clearly sensing the conflict in your reaction. "And now I know exactly what you can do," he said softly, his body flickering with transparency for a brief moment as he channeled chakra. "You passed, Raven. Impressively so. Now, shall we continue to the Mizukage's residence? Or would you prefer to debate my methods further while our pursuers regroup?" The challenge in his voice was unmistakable, daring you to choose action over argument as the cubic structures floated silently around you both, waiting for your decision.

"Pursuer regrouping kind of seems meaningless in here.... anyway.... what's this mizukage capable of? Name? Height? Abilities? Tactics? I could go in blind and fare just the same... but since you're the expert. What makes the kages so formidable?" You leaned against one of the floating cubic structures, your vectors idly exploring the strange dimension around you.

Obito's scarred face relaxed slightly, seemingly pleased by your choice to focus on the mission rather than his deception. "Mei Terumī. The Fifth Mizukage. She possesses two kekkei genkai - Lava Release and Boil Release." He moved his hand through the air, creating a shimmering image of a tall woman with ankle-length auburn hair. "Don't let her beauty fool you. Her Lava Release can melt flesh from bone in seconds, and her Boil Release creates acidic mist that dissolves anything it touches."

You studied the projection, your head tilting with curious interest. The image showed a woman with a curvaceous figure and elegant features, looking nothing like the monster Obito described. "She's surrounded by elite ANBU guards at all times. Close-combat specialists and sensory types who can detect chakra signatures approaching from kilometers away," Obito continued, his Sharingan spinning slowly. "The Five Kage are considered the pinnacle of shinobi power - each capable of destroying entire battalions single-handedly."

Your vectors coiled excitedly around you at the prospect of such a challenge. The strange dimension amplified their movements, creating rippling distortions in the space between the floating cubes. "My Kamui will bypass their sensory barrier, but once inside, we'll have seconds before they respond. The element of surprise is our only advantage." Obito's voice had taken on a tactical edge, his earlier philosophical musings replaced by cold calculation.

You pushed off from the cube, moving to stand beside him. Your blood-stained clothes had mostly dried in this timeless dimension, flaking away in small crimson particles that floated eerily in the void. "Lava and acid, huh? Sounds fun. Anyone ever tried just... cutting off her head before she can use those abilities?" Your tone was casual, as if discussing a minor puzzle rather than assassinating one of the most powerful ninjas in the world.

Obito's eye narrowed at your simplistic approach. "You continue to underestimate the shinobi world, Raven. The Mizukage didn't reach her position through beauty pageants. Her reaction time is measured in milliseconds." He raised his hand as the void around you began to swirl and distort. "But yes, a swift decapitation would work... if you can manage it. Ready yourself - we emerge directly in her private chambers."

You rolled your eyes at his condescension, your vectors coiling impatiently around you as the dimensional void began to warp and shift. The bizarre geometry of Obito's pocket dimension stretched and contorted, preparing to deposit you both into reality.

"Then let's put it this way. I'm a collector of abilities. Everything you mentioned she can do, I can counter. Instant regeneration will keep me safe. My vectors can be used for large groups and long distance fighting that doesn't require my physical body to be present due to their range. Then I have pain infliction. That'll be fun." Your eyes gleamed with predatory excitement as the dimensional walls thinned around you both. "Then of course earth bending, fire bending, water bending, air bending. And I can combine them to create new bending or even mimic her lava. Then there's the fact that they're using chakra sensing ninja and I have no chakra. I got this. Sounds like you're underestimating me."

Obito's visible eye widened slightly, genuine surprise flickering across his scarred features. "No chakra at all? That's..." He shook his head in disbelief, his calculations visibly shifting. "That makes you essentially invisible to most tracking techniques in this world. A significant advantage I hadn't considered."

Reality twisted violently around you, the void collapsing as Obito's jutsu transported you both across dimensions. Your stomach lurched as you materialized in a lavishly appointed bedroom - silk sheets on an enormous canopied bed, ornate furniture crafted from rare woods, and floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking a mist-shrouded village far below. The Mizukage's private chambers were as elegant as they were secure - or would have been secure, if not for Obito's space-time manipulation.

You immediately spread your vectors to their maximum range, invisible appendages flowing through walls and doors, mapping the entire floor of the building in seconds. Your senses detected four ANBU guards stationed in the hallway outside, completely unaware of your arrival, and a solitary figure in an adjoining bathroom - the soft sounds of running water indicating the Mizukage was bathing. "Bathroom. Alone," you whispered to Obito, your vectors already positioning themselves strategically around the unsuspecting Kage.

You moved silently toward the bathroom door, your bare feet making no sound on the plush carpeting. Obito followed like a shadow, his body half-phased to pass through any potential traps. The sound of water stopping made you both freeze - the Mizukage had finished her bath. Your vectors tensed, coiled like serpents ready to strike, as the bathroom door began to open.

Steam billowed out from the bathroom as Mei Terumī, the Fifth Mizukage, stepped into her private chambers. You watched with raised eyebrows as she emerged wearing nothing but a short ash-colored towel wrapped tightly around her curvaceous figure. Water droplets still clung to her exposed shoulders, and her ankle-length auburn hair hung damp down her back.

Her green eyes widened in shock as she spotted you and Obito standing in her bedroom. In that frozen moment of surprise, you did the most absurd thing possible - you raised your hand and gave her a friendly little wave, a sheepish smile spreading across your blood-flecked face.

"Hey there. We should talk about that bounty you have on me... woman to woman," you said casually, as if breaking into the private chambers of one of the five most powerful ninjas in the world was a perfectly normal social call.

Mei's shocked expression hardened instantly into deadly focus. She dropped into a defensive stance, hands already forming signs with blinding speed as the towel began to slip. "How did you-" she began, but Obito was already moving.

"Now, Raven!" he shouted, his body phasing through a barrage of lava that erupted from the Mizukage's mouth. The molten substance passed harmlessly through his intangible form, splattering against the wall behind him and instantly melting through the ornate paneling.

You grinned with feral excitement as your vectors shot forward with deadly precision, aiming for the Mizukage's exposed neck. But Mei was faster than you'd anticipated - she bent backward at an impossible angle, your invisible appendages missing her throat by millimeters as she expelled a cloud of acidic mist that filled the room with frightening speed. The game was on.

Chapter Text

You instantly switched to airbending, your fingers splaying wide as you redirected the acidic mist back toward its creator with a powerful cyclonic motion. The corrosive cloud reversed course, swirling violently toward the surprised Mizukage.

Mei's eyes widened as her own attack barreled back toward her. She twisted elegantly to the side, her towel finally giving up its precarious hold and falling to the floor as she narrowly avoided the worst of the mist. A few droplets caught her shoulder, sizzling against her skin and drawing a sharp hiss of pain.

"Nice lava," you commented casually, as if complimenting her choice in home décor rather than her deadly kekkei genkai. The molten substance continued to eat through the wall behind Obito, who remained partially phased, his Sharingan tracking every minute movement of the Mizukage's exposed form.

You combined your earth and fire bending abilities, focusing intently on the still-liquified lava that pooled on the floor. The red-hot substance trembled, then rose in twisting serpentine coils that defied gravity. You cackled manically as you directed the borrowed lava back toward its creator, your face illuminated by its hellish glow.

Mei's expression shifted from shock to cold rage. "Impossible," she whispered, hands already blurring through new signs. "No one can manipulate my kekkei genkai!" She leapt sideways with graceful precision, her naked form momentarily silhouetted against the windows overlooking Kirigakure before she unleashed a torrent of boiling water that collided spectacularly with your redirected lava.

The resulting explosion of steam and half-cooled magma wrecked the opulent bedroom, shredding silk curtains and shattering ornate furniture. Four ANBU guards burst through the door, masked faces registering shock at the scene before them-their naked Mizukage locked in combat with two S-rank intruders, one of whom was manipulating lava she shouldn't possibly be able to control. "Protect the Mizukage!" their leader shouted, drawing a gleaming blade as Obito turned toward them with deadly intent, his body flickering between solid and intangible like a deadly mirage.

You raised your hands in a fluid circular motion, fingers splaying wide as you began manipulating the air currents within the chamber. The atmosphere responded instantly to your command, swirling faster and faster around you and the naked Mizukage. Oxygen rapidly thinned as you contracted the available air, creating a suffocating vortex that left just enough for your own survival.

Mei's eyes widened in shock as she gasped for breath, her hands flying to her throat. Her next attempt at a lava release sputtered and died on her lips, producing only a pathetic trickle of molten substance. The four ANBU guards rushed forward but found themselves blocked as Obito engaged them, his phasing ability making their attacks pass harmlessly through his form while his counterstrikes landed with devastating precision.

"Was the mist to hide your naked body, Mizukage? I'd be embarrassed too," you taunted with a smirk, watching as the powerful woman struggled not only against your airflow manipulation but also with the sudden awareness of her exposed state. The conflict between covering herself and fighting for her life played across her features, her fierce dignity warring with basic modesty.

Mei's expression hardened into pure fury. Even as she fought for breath, she grabbed a silk sheet from the ruined bed, wrapping it around her body with one swift motion while maintaining eye contact with you. "You've made... a fatal... mistake," she rasped, her voice barely audible through your thinning air. Despite her compromised position, there was something terrifying in her calm determination as she formed a single hand sign with deliberate precision.

The floor beneath you suddenly erupted, not with lava but with scalding steam that shot upward with explosive force. Your concentration broke momentarily as the searing heat hit your skin, disrupting your careful airflow control. In that split second, Mei capitalized on your distraction, lunging forward with inhuman speed despite her oxygen-deprived state. Her hand, glowing with concentrated chakra, aimed directly for your throat.

You barely twisted away in time, feeling the heat of her attack graze your cheek as your vectors instinctively responded, lashing out to create distance between you. The sudden movement sent you crashing into Obito, who had just phased through an ANBU soldier's blade. His Sharingan eye met yours briefly, a silent communication passing between you as the battle reached new intensity. The Mizukage, wrapped in nothing but a bedsheet and burning with righteous fury, was proving far more formidable than either of you had anticipated.

The Mizukage's chakra-infused strike grazed your cheek, leaving a thin line of blood. "Ouch Mizukage, that hurt," you said with mock indignation, raising your hand to the shallow wound. The cut began to close instantly, flesh knitting together before Mei's widening eyes.

You smiled as the small wound regenerated completely, not even leaving a scar. Your body began to glow with a soft purple light, an ethereal aura that pulsed once before fading into your skin. The pain infliction ability you'd collected from another dimension activated, creating an invisible connection between you and your opponent. Any damage you sustained would now be reflected back to the Mizukage - a perfect counter against such a dangerous adversary.

Mei's eyes narrowed in suspicion as she witnessed your healing. "What kind of jutsu is that?" she demanded, maintaining her battle stance despite the awkward bedsheet wrapped around her curvaceous form. Behind her, two ANBU guards crashed to the floor as Obito phased through their attacks, his Sharingan spinning hypnotically.

"Not jutsu. Just one of my many talents," you replied with a predatory grin. The Mizukage didn't wait for further explanation, launching herself forward with blinding speed. Her fist, coated in boiling chakra, connected squarely with your jaw in a blow that should have shattered bone. Instead, you merely rocked back on your heels as her own head snapped violently to the side, blood spraying from her mouth as she experienced the reflected damage of her own attack.

Mei stumbled backward, genuine fear flickering across her beautiful features for the first time. "Impossible," she whispered, one hand rising to touch her injured jaw while the other desperately clutched the slipping bedsheet. The remaining ANBU guards hesitated, witnessing their powerful leader injured by her own attack.

You stretched your vectors outward, invisible extensions reaching toward the disoriented Mizukage. "Now about that bounty on my head," you said, stepping forward purposefully. Your vectors wrapped around Mei's throat, tightening just enough to make breathing difficult without cutting off her air completely. Obito dispatched the final ANBU guard with casual efficiency, turning his attention to you and your captive Kage with an expression that mixed approval and caution on his scarred face.

You allowed your vectors to become visible, the ghostly black appendages materializing around you like a crown of deadly thorns. The Mizukage's eyes widened at the sight, her breath catching as she finally glimpsed the invisible weapons that had been tormenting her. Two of your vectors pressed their palms flat against the floor, muscles tensing as they lifted both you and Obito smoothly into the air.

"I'm not quite sure what business you have with me that you'd put a bounty on my head. I don't even know you. So take it off. Surrender... but if you don't..." You tilted your head, studying the Mizukage's blood-spattered face with cold curiosity. The bedsheet she clutched to her body was stained crimson in places, her auburn hair disheveled around her shoulders.

Ninety-six additional vectors suddenly manifested around the Mizukage, creating a forest of deadly black appendages that surrounded her from every angle. Each one hovered with predatory patience, their tips sharpened to lethal points all aimed at her vital organs. The display was deliberately excessive - a demonstration of overwhelming force that made Mei's powerful kekkei genkai seem almost quaint in comparison.

"I'll remove your skull cap and take that precious kekkei genkai by examining that brain from your fresh corpse and take down every single shinobi in this village." Your eyes gleamed with terrifying sincerity as you spoke, vectors twitching with anticipation. The room had fallen deathly silent, with only the occasional drip of water from the bathroom and the labored breathing of the injured Mizukage breaking the stillness.

Mei's expression shifted rapidly between fury, fear, and finally, calculated resignation. "You're not from this world," she stated rather than asked, her keen intelligence assessing the situation despite her vulnerable position. "No shinobi possesses abilities like yours." She straightened her posture despite the vectors surrounding her, attempting to restore some dignity while still clutching the bloodied sheet. "The bounty was placed based on reports of mass slaughter near our borders. If you're truly just... passing through, perhaps we can negotiate."

Obito watched the exchange with growing interest, his Sharingan eye never leaving the Mizukage even as he addressed you. "She's stalling. Reinforcements will be here soon." He stepped closer to you, his voice dropping to a whisper only you could hear. "Whatever you plan to do, do it quickly. The entire village will mobilize once they realize their Kage is under attack." Outside the massive windows of the bedroom, alarm bells had begun to ring throughout Kirigakure, the mist-shrouded village stirring like a disturbed hornet's nest.

You looked down at the Mizukage, vectors still coiled around her throat like deadly serpents. The alarm bells echoed through the village below, their urgent clanging filtering through the shattered windows of the once-opulent bedroom.

"You've decided death. I don't think it's quite fair that I've been out there fighting for my life on your account while you've been here without a care in the world, taking hot baths and sleeping in silk sheets. Good bye Mizukage of Kirigakure." Your voice was calm, almost conversational, as if discussing the weather rather than announcing an execution.

With a flicker of thought, your vectors tightened and twisted. They rotated the Mizukage's head in a full 360-degree turn, the sickening crack of her spine echoing through the destroyed bedroom. Her body tensed, then went completely limp, the sheet slipping from her grasp to pool around her feet. Most disturbing of all was her expression - her consciousness lingered just long enough for her to register what had happened, shock and disbelief frozen on her beautiful features as her head separated completely from her body.

The Mizukage's head dropped to the floor with a dull thud, rolling several feet before coming to rest against an overturned chair. Her auburn hair fanned out around her face like a bloody halo, her green eyes still open, still beautiful, but unmistakably dead. Her body collapsed a moment later, crumpling to the floor in a graceless heap.

Obito stared at the Mizukage's severed head, his scarred face betraying rare surprise. "You've just assassinated one of the Five Kage," he said, his voice almost reverent with the weight of your action. "The political fallout will be... catastrophic." He stepped toward the balcony, gazing out at the village where alarm bells continued to ring with increasing urgency. "We need to leave. Now. The entire shinobi alliance will hunt us after this."

You retracted your vectors, watching with detached fascination as blood pooled beneath the Mizukage's headless body. The alarm bells outside grew more frantic, and you could hear shouting from the floors below as Kirigakure's forces mobilized. "Well, there's your warning to the others," you said with a casual shrug, stepping over the Mizukage's body to join Obito at the balcony. "Ready when you are." Below you, the mist-shrouded village pulsed with activity like a disturbed anthill, unaware that their leader was already dead

"Do you have enough energy to warp us out or do I have to fight my way out?" you asked, watching as dozens of shinobi began converging on the tower below. The adrenaline from killing the Mizukage still coursed through your body, making your vectors twitch with anticipation around you.

Obito's Sharingan eye assessed you carefully, noting your relaxed posture despite the growing chaos. "I can manage one more jump," he replied, his voice tight with controlled strain. "Though it will deplete most of my remaining chakra." He stepped closer to you, the space around his body already beginning to distort with the activation of his Kamui.

You weren't tired at all. If anything, the Mizukage's death had energized you, and the thought of facing more opponents sent a pleasant tingle down your spine. The shinobi mobilizing below would be weaker than their leader - it wouldn't be hard to slaughter them all in one night. You tilted your head thoughtfully, vectors coiling like eager serpents around your body as you weighed your options.

"Maybe we should stay," you suggested with a predatory smile. "I could use the exercise, and it would send an even stronger message to the other villages." You peered over the balcony, counting the rapidly gathering ninja with casual interest, like a chef assessing ingredients rather than a warrior facing enemies.

Obito's scarred face hardened into a mask of cold calculation. "No. The Mizukage's death already makes our point." His hand gripped your wrist firmly, the swirling vortex of his Kamui expanding to engulf you both as shouts echoed from the corridor outside the destroyed bedroom. "Sometimes strategic retreat is the better part of warfare. We need to plan our next move carefully."

The world twisted sickeningly around you as Obito's dimension-warping jutsu activated fully. The last thing you saw before reality fractured was the bedroom door bursting open, revealing horrified faces of Kirigakure jonin discovering their beheaded leader sprawled across the blood-soaked floor. Their synchronized cries of rage and grief followed you into the void as you and Obito vanished from the Mizukage's residence, leaving behind only death and the promise of vengeance

Chapter Text

The dimensional shift completed with a final lurch, depositing you both back into the eerie silence of the Kamui dimension. You landed gracefully, your vectors automatically stabilizing your body against the disorientation. Obito wasn't quite as composed, his scarred chest rising and falling with slightly labored breaths - barely noticeable, but your keen eyes missed nothing.

"We really need to do something about your chakra reservation," you said, studying his subtle signs of fatigue. The dimensional transportation had clearly cost him more than he was willing to admit. His posture remained rigid with pride, but you could see the toll it had taken.

Obito's mismatched eyes narrowed slightly at your observation. "My reserves are adequate," he stated flatly, though his slightly deeper breathing betrayed him. He turned away, gazing out at the strange geometric landscape of floating cubes that stretched endlessly around you both.

You walked a few paces, marveling at how the sound of your footsteps seemed swallowed by the void. There was an eerie muffled quality to this dimension, as if reality itself was wrapped in cotton. The sensation was distinctly unnerving, yet fascinating. "You ever store anything in here? Like tacos?" You glanced around at the barren cubic structures, a sudden food craving hitting you as the adrenaline of battle began to fade.

You wondered briefly if tacos even existed in this world - perhaps they had some ninja equivalent? The thought of shinobi-style tacos made your stomach growl audibly in the silent dimension. Dimensional travel, it seemed, worked up quite an appetite, especially after beheading Kages.

Obito regarded you with a mixture of confusion and mild amusement, his Sharingan spinning lazily as he recovered his strength. "Tacos? I don't know what those are," he admitted, confirming your suspicion. "But yes, I do store provisions here. Weapons, scrolls, supplies for long missions." He gestured toward one of the distant cubic platforms, where you could now make out what appeared to be crates and storage containers carefully arranged in neat rows. "Food pills, not... tacos."

"You've never had a taco before? That's so sad..." Your expression shifted to one of genuine concern, as if learning Obito had suffered some terrible childhood trauma. You weren't joking around - the idea of someone going through life without experiencing tacos struck you as genuinely tragic.

You followed Obito toward the storage platform, your vectors propelling you effortlessly across the void between cubic structures. The thought of those bland food pills instead of proper cuisine made your stomach protest with another audible growl. "They're the most delicious!" you exclaimed, your voice rising to an unexpected high pitch on 'delicious' that echoed strangely in the dimensional void.

Obito paused mid-stride, turning to look at you with genuine bewilderment. Your sudden shift from cold-blooded killer who had just beheaded a Kage to someone passionately extolling the virtues of an unknown food seemed to catch him completely off-guard. "You're... serious about these tacos?" he asked, his scarred face revealing a rare glimpse of uncertainty.

"Food pills sound terrible and dry," you responded with a grimace, picturing the joyless ninja nutrition that probably tasted like chalky medicine. The contrast between the vibrant, varied world you came from and the utilitarian approach of shinobi culture was becoming more apparent the longer you spent in this dimension.

You landed on the storage platform beside Obito, watching as he opened one of the containers to reveal rows of perfectly organized supplies. Everything was meticulously arranged - weapons sharpened to lethal perfection, scrolls carefully labeled, and yes, small packets of what had to be the dreaded food pills. The dimension's strange lighting cast shadows across Obito's scarred face as he handed you one of the pills, his expression unreadable.

You turned the small brown pellet between your fingers, nose wrinkling at its medicinal smell. After the adrenaline rush of killing a Kage and fleeing an entire hidden village, being offered what amounted to a vitamin supplement felt almost insulting. Even as your stomach growled again, you found yourself wondering if you could convince Obito to make another dimensional jump - this time to a world where proper food existed.

"A world without tacos is a tragedy. No wonder you're so doom and gloom all the time... you know what. When ever we get out of here I'll make you one. Does this world have cows and chicken?" You tossed the bland food pill over your shoulder, watching as it disappeared into the endless void of the Kamui dimension.

Obito's scarred face registered genuine confusion. "Cows and chickens? Yes, we have livestock," he replied slowly, as if explaining something to a child. He closed the storage container, clearly rethinking his decision to offer you sustenance. "Your priorities are... unusual for someone who just assassinated one of the Five Kage."

You stretched your arms above your head, your vectors extending lazily around you like a cat unfurling in sunlight. The dimensional void seemed to ripple slightly in response. "Killing people makes me hungry. Besides, you can tell a lot about a world by its food," you explained matter-of-factly, hopping up to sit cross-legged on one of the floating cubes. "Worlds with good food usually have better people."

Obito raised his eyebrow, clearly unsure whether to be amused or concerned by your peculiar philosophy. "And how does this world rate on your... culinary scale?" He leaned against a cubic structure, arms folded across his chest. There was something almost relaxed in his posture now, a subtle shift from the constant vigilance he'd maintained since you'd met.

You considered the question seriously, head tilting as you thought about the meals you'd encountered so far. The fire-roasted fish from that riverside camp, the bitter soldier pills, and those strange dumplings in that village whose name you couldn't remember. "So far? Pretty bland. But you haven't had my cooking yet," you replied with a grin spreading across your blood-flecked face. "Once I make you a proper taco, you might rethink your whole 'destroy the world' plan. Hard to be nihilistic with good food in your belly."

Something unexpected happened then - Obito laughed. It was brief, barely more than a short chuckle, but it transformed his scarred face completely. For just that moment, you caught a glimpse of who he might have been before pain and loss had twisted him. "I look forward to testing that theory," he said, the ghost of a genuine smile lingering at the corners of his mouth. "But first we need to plan our next move. Killing the Mizukage has changed everything. The other villages will mobilize against us now."

You stared at his profile for a moment, noticing how the strange light of the dimension softened the harsh lines of his scars. When he wasn't scowling or plotting world destruction, there was something almost boyish about him that you found oddly appealing.

"You know... you're kind of cute when you're not looking so damn grouchy all the time," you said casually, watching with amusement as Obito's head snapped around, his expression a perfect blend of shock and suspicion.

You played with the tips of your hair mindlessly, twirling a blood-flecked strand around your finger as you gazed out into the dimensional void. The casual action created a striking contrast against the backdrop of your earlier violence, this simple human gesture from someone who had just beheaded one of the most powerful ninjas in the world.

"Cute?" Obito repeated the word as if it were in a foreign language, his scarred face contorting with genuine confusion. He took a step back, clearly thrown off-balance by your unexpected comment. "I haven't been called... cute... since I was a genin."

You let out a soft sigh, your eyes drifting across the strange cubic landscape as your thoughts turned inward. "I guess I'll never stop fighting for my life in this world. People in this dimension create a lot of unnecessary problems for themselves. Mainly me. I'm a problem no one wants," you said softly, your usual predatory confidence momentarily replaced by something more vulnerable.

Obito studied you with newfound curiosity, his Sharingan spinning slowly as if trying to see beneath your casual facade. "Perhaps that makes two of us then," he replied, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. "Unwanted problems have a way of changing worlds." He extended his hand toward you, not to attack or defend, but in a simple gesture of alliance that seemed to surprise even himself.

You stared at his outstretched hand for a moment, head tilting with curious interest. This wasn't the Obito you'd seen thus far - the cold, calculating shinobi seemed almost human in this strange floating dimension. You bumped your fist against his palm awkwardly, transforming his formal gesture into something more casual.

"Oooh, my first fist bump. Are we bestie now?" You grinned up at him, your blood-spattered face brightening with childlike mischief that contrasted sharply with the fact you'd beheaded a world leader less than an hour ago.

Obito blinked, his hand still suspended in air as he processed your response. Something between confusion and amusement flickered across his scarred features before settling into a reluctant half-smile. "You're unlike anyone I've ever encountered," he said, lowering his hand slowly. "Most people who've seen what I'm capable of either fear me or try to kill me."

You hopped down from the cube you were sitting on, landing lightly beside him. The dimensional void seemed less oppressive now, the strange cubic landscape almost peaceful compared to the chaos you'd left behind in Kirigakure. "Well, I'm not most people. I literally collect abilities from different dimensions. Fear is kind of pointless when you've seen as many worlds as I have," you said with a casual shrug, your vectors lazily extending and retracting around you like curious tentacles exploring the strange environment.

You studied Obito's face more carefully, noticing how the harsh lines of his scars softened in the dimension's ethereal light. There was something almost vulnerable about him here, away from the battlefield and the constant need to maintain his fearsome reputation. "Besides, you're not so scary once I got to know you. Traumatized? Definitely. Evil? Debatable. But not scary."

Obito's expression darkened momentarily before settling into something unreadable. "You speak as if you understand me," he said quietly, his Sharingan eye narrowing slightly. He turned away, gazing out at the endless void surrounding his dimensional sanctuary. "We should rest while we can. The shinobi world will be in chaos once news of the Mizukage's death spreads. And chaos... creates opportunity." Despite his attempt to return to strategic planning, something in his posture had changed - a subtle shift that suggested your casual friendship had somehow pierced the carefully constructed armor he'd built around himself.

"So... a lot of people fear you huh? Makes sense. You're an untouchable enemy... that's impressive." You studied his profile against the strange backdrop of the dimension, noticing how his shoulders tensed slightly at your words.

You found a relatively flat cubic structure and sat down cross-legged, leaning back on your palms as you took in the bizarre landscape surrounding you. The floating geometric shapes created patterns unlike anything you'd seen in other dimensions, a physical manifestation of Obito's twisted perception of reality. There was something hauntingly beautiful about it - this pocket universe that existed beyond time and space, accessible only through the power of his Sharingan.

"I bet you get the best sleep in here," you mused, running your hand over the smooth surface beneath you. The peculiar silence of the dimension was almost comforting after the chaos of battle - no birds, no wind, no distant voices, just the soft sound of your breathing and his.

Obito glanced at you, something unreadable flickering across his scarred features. "Sleep doesn't come easily to me, regardless of where I am," he admitted quietly, his mismatched eyes briefly revealing a glimpse of old pain before hardening once more. "But yes, the quiet helps sometimes."

You watched as he moved to sit on another cube opposite you, his movements carrying the fluid grace of a lifetime warrior. Despite the blood still flaking from your clothes and his, there was something almost peaceful about this moment - two killers taking respite in a pocket between dimensions, discussing sleep like normal people might discuss the weather.

Your vectors extended lazily around you, exploring the strange physics of this place while maintaining their protective perimeter. The blood of the Mizukage was still fresh on your conscience, yet here you were, chatting casually with your accomplice as if you hadn't just upset the entire political balance of a world. "We should rest while we can," Obito said finally, his Sharingan dimming slightly as he allowed himself to relax marginally in your presence. "Tomorrow, we plan our next move."

Chapter Text

"Oh, so we're staying overnight?" you asked, eyeing his extended hand with a mixture of amusement and curiosity. Something about this strange dimension made you feel oddly comfortable, despite its alien geometry and unsettling silence.

You took his hand briefly, feeling the callused palm of a lifetime warrior against your skin before releasing it. The subtle ways his ability worked fascinated you - how dimensions bent to his will, how matter phased through other matter. You smiled at him from across the distance, mentally calculating the nuances of his technique. One more exposure to his Kamui and you might be able to replicate it without needing to kill him - a rare adaptation of your intuitive aptitude ability that evolved when termination wasn't practical or possible.

"Has your whole life been like this?" you asked softly, gesturing to the dimensional void surrounding you both. The question held more weight than your casual tone suggested - you weren't just asking about the physical space but the isolation, the otherness that seemed to define him.

Obito's expression shifted, surprise briefly flickering across his scarred features before settling into something more guarded. "No," he answered finally, his voice uncommonly quiet. "Once, I had dreams. Friends. A home." He turned away slightly, his profile sharp against the strange backdrop of floating cubes. "This came later, after I learned what the world truly is."

You watched him carefully, your vectors swirling lazily around you both like curious tendrils testing the strange physics of this place. There was something in his voice - a crack in the armor of nihilism he wore so comfortably. Despite having just assassinated a Kage together, this felt like the most intimate moment you'd shared. In the suspended silence of his pocket dimension, with blood still flaking from both your clothes, you found yourself genuinely curious about the path that had led this man to such profound disillusionment.

You stretched out on the cubic structure, making yourself comfortable as if this void between worlds was just another hotel room. "Well then," you said with a casual yawn, your vectors forming something resembling a pillow behind your head, "you can tell me all about it while we wait. We've got all night, right?" Despite your relaxed posture, your mind was working rapidly, analyzing the subtle flux of chakra that maintained this pocket dimension, memorizing the patterns for future replication. Beneath your friendly conversation lurked your collector's instinct - calculating, adapting, preparing to add another power to your arsenal.

You closed your eyes, your body relaxing against the strange cubic surface while your mind remained fully alert, vectors still lazily maintaining their protective perimeter around you both. The dimensional void's silence was oddly soothing after the chaos of battle and assassination.

"Your hand was kind of warm," you mentioned randomly, your eyes still shut as a small smile played across your lips. It was such an oddly human observation about someone who projected such cold detachment.

Obito's breath caught audibly. "What?" The confusion in his voice was almost palpable, his typical composure momentarily fractured by your unexpected comment.

You didn't open your eyes, enjoying how such small observations seemed to throw him off balance. Despite his fearsome reputation and the trail of bodies you'd both left behind, there was something almost endearing about his awkwardness when faced with normal human interaction. You were growing oddly fond of him, this broken man who'd wrapped himself in darkness and conviction.

"You are... peculiar," Obito finally said, his voice softer than you'd heard before. You sensed him shifting position, the cubic structure beneath you vibrating slightly as he settled. "Most would be planning our next tactical move after killing a Kage. Not commenting on... hand temperature."

You smiled wider, still refusing to open your eyes as you listened to the subtle changes in his voice - the barely perceptible softening around the edges of his words. "I'm multitasking. Planning the assassination of the remaining Kage while also noting that beneath all that angst and world-destruction, you're still human. Warm-blooded, even." Your vectors shifted lazily in the void around you, some curling protectively while others continued their curious exploration of this strange pocket universe that might soon be yours to command as well.

"Besides... you mentioned rest... I won't be doing any strategizing unconsciously.... are shinobi in this world capable of planning while they sleep?" You let out a soft laugh, the question seeming absurd even as you asked it. Yet in a world of dimension-hopping and lava-breathing humans, perhaps sleep-planning wasn't out of the question.

Obito's scarred lips twitched slightly, the closest thing to a smile you'd seen from him yet. "No. Though some claim to solve problems while dreaming." He shifted his position on the cubic structure, his body language subtly more relaxed than before. "Certain sensory-type shinobi can remain partially aware while resting, detecting threats even in sleep. But actual planning? No."

You stretched your limbs out like a contented cat, feeling the strange non-gravity of the dimension tugging at your body. The cubic surface beneath you wasn't exactly comfortable, but after the intensity of beheading a Kage and fleeing an entire village, even cold geometric shapes felt welcoming enough. Your vectors formed something resembling a pillow under your head, their black tendrils curling and uncurling with slow, sleepy movements.

"Then I guess we're just taking a normal nap," you murmured, eyes growing heavy despite your naturally vigilant nature. There was something about this void between dimensions that felt oddly secure - a bubble outside reality where even your paranoia could briefly rest. "Will you sleep too, or just watch me creepily all night?" The question came out more softly than you intended, half-teasing but with genuine curiosity.

Obito remained silent for a long moment, his mismatched eyes studying you with an unreadable expression. "I'll maintain a perimeter," he finally said, his deep voice barely above a whisper. He shifted into a more meditative position, legs crossed and back straight. "Even here, vigilance is necessary. But you may sleep. Nothing can reach us without my knowledge."

You nodded sleepily, feeling an unexpected sense of safety in his presence despite knowing exactly what kind of monster he was - what kind of monsters you both were. Your vectors curled closer around your body like a protective cocoon, though you maintained a few at full extension, quietly observing how Obito's chakra sustained this pocket dimension. Even as consciousness began to fade, your collector's instinct remained active, analyzing and memorizing the unique signature of his Kamui technique - one more power to potentially add to your growing arsenal.

You crack an eye open suddenly, sleep evaporating as a thought strikes you. The absurdity of the situation hits all at once, and you burst into wholehearted laughter that echoes strangely in the dimensional void.

Obito stiffens, clearly caught off guard by your abrupt shift from near-sleep to unrestrained mirth. "What's so amusing?" he asks, his scarred face a mixture of suspicion and genuine curiosity.

"You're unintentionally funny. If the only way in and out of here is through you, then I don't understand why you'd stay vigilant. Unless you've trapped some randos in here I'm not aware of?" You prop yourself up on your elbows, vectors still lazily swirling around you like curious tendrils. The dimensional void amplifies your voice, giving it an eerie quality.

Obito's expression shifts, something almost like embarrassment flickering across his usually stoic features before he masters it. "Habit," he admits after a pause, his deep voice unusually soft. "When you've lived as I have, vigilance becomes as natural as breathing."

You study his face in the strange, sourceless light of the dimension, noticing how the harsh lines of his scars seem to soften when he's not actively projecting menace. There's something almost vulnerable about him in this moment - this feared shinobi who helped you assassinate a world leader just hours ago, now awkwardly explaining his inability to relax even in his own impenetrable sanctuary.

"Besides," he adds, a hint of defensiveness creeping into his tone, "there are other techniques that could potentially breach this space. Rare, but possible. The Fourth Hokage's Flying Thunder God technique, for instance..." His voice trails off, and you can't help but wonder if there's more to his vigilance than he's admitting - ghosts from his past that haunt him even in this pocket between dimensions.

"Fourth Hokage? Ain't that one long dead... your paranoia is on another level. Relax. Lay down. You haven't slept in days. You've been taking all the watches. In fact, if it makes you feel better, I'll watch. I'm good for it." You sit up completely, your vectors forming a more defined protective barrier around your shared space.

Obito's eyes narrowed slightly, studying your face with that piercing Sharingan. "The dead have a way of leaving lasting impressions in this world," he said quietly. He shifted uncomfortably, clearly unused to anyone showing concern for his wellbeing. The scarred side of his face caught the strange, sourceless light of the dimension, highlighting the deep furrows etched into his skin.

"I don't require much sleep," he insisted, though the subtle slump of his shoulders betrayed his exhaustion. You rolled your eyes dramatically, vectors coiling impatiently around you like restless serpents. The man had helped you assassinate a Kage, yet he couldn't admit he needed rest like any ordinary human.

"Look, even interdimensional killers need sleep. I don't have chakra, remember? My vectors are always active whether I'm awake or not. They'll sense any disturbance." You gestured to the empty void surrounding you, emphasizing the absurdity of maintaining vigilance in a pocket dimension only he could access. "Unless you've got other dimension-hopping buddies who drop by unannounced?"

Obito's lip twitched slightly, almost forming something that might have been a smile on anyone else. "Fine," he conceded with surprising softness. He slowly lowered himself onto a flat cubic surface, his movements stiff and reluctant, like a wild animal unused to showing vulnerability. "But wake me at the slightest-"

"Yeah, yeah, at the slightest disturbance in the dimensional force or whatever," you interrupted with a dismissive wave. You watched as he settled his battle-worn body, tension visibly draining from his frame. Something in your chest tightened at the sight of him finally allowing himself this small moment of peace. Your vectors spread wider, forming an impenetrable perimeter around you both as Obito's breathing gradually slowed into the rhythm of true sleep.

"Promise not to do anything weird while you slumber," you said in a mock-serious tone, your vectors gently swaying around the perimeter you'd established. It was strange seeing someone so dangerous look almost peaceful in sleep, his scarred face relaxed for perhaps the first time since you'd met him.

Obito's eye snapped open immediately, his body tensing as he fixed you with a suspicious glare. The transition from sleep to full alertness happened in less than a second, a lifetime of survival instincts clearly at work. "What exactly would you consider 'weird'?" he asked, clearly not appreciating your humor as he propped himself up on one elbow, Sharingan spinning lazily.

You couldn't help but laugh at his reaction, the sound echoing strangely in the dimensional void. The absurdity of the situation struck you all at once - this fearsome shinobi who had just helped you assassinate one of the most powerful leaders in his world was genuinely concerned you might mess with him while he slept, like some interdimensional prankster.

"My god. Relax," you said, still chuckling. "I'm not going to draw on your face or put your hand in warm water. What do you think I am, twelve?" The defensive posture he'd adopted was almost endearing - this man who could phase through solid matter and manipulate dimensions was worried about schoolyard pranks.

Obito's expression remained guarded, though you noticed his muscles relax fractionally. "Your sense of humor is... unexpected," he muttered, slowly settling back down onto the cubic structure. "I've found that those who treat killing so casually often have unusual ideas about what constitutes amusement." Despite his words, there was something almost like curiosity in his gaze now, as though you were a puzzle he couldn't quite solve.

You sat cross-legged nearby, your vectors maintaining their protective formation as you watched him struggle between exhaustion and ingrained paranoia. "Sleep, Obito. I'll keep watch," you said more gently. Something about this strange man's vulnerability struck a chord within you - behind the scars and the power and the darkness, there was still something human there, something that responded to simple kindness as though it were an unfamiliar language. Slowly, hesitantly, his eye closed again, and this time when his breathing evened out, you made no jokes to disturb his rest.

Chapter Text

You remained quiet as Obito slept, your vectors lazily swirling around both of you in protective formation. In this strange pocket dimension, the concept of maintaining vigilance seemed almost comical. This was literally his own world - who exactly would intrude here?

You sighed softly, studying his scarred face in the strange, sourceless light of the dimension. Without his usual scowl or calculating stare, Obito looked surprisingly peaceful. The harsh lines of his battle-worn features softened in sleep, making him appear almost vulnerable. It was strange seeing someone so deadly, so feared throughout his world, looking so... human.

You drew your knees up to your chest, resting your chin atop them as you continued your silent vigil. He reminded you of a stray cat that had lost its home and forgotten what comfort felt like - wary of kindness, expecting only cruelty, having to relearn what it meant to trust. The thought made something in your chest tighten unexpectedly.

Your vectors gently lifted a strand of his dark hair away from his face, the movement so delicate it didn't disturb his rest. For someone who had helped you behead a Kage just hours ago, he slept with surprising innocence. What had happened to turn this man toward such darkness? What world had he envisioned that was worth destroying reality to achieve?

The silence of the dimension was absolute, broken only by Obito's steady breathing and the occasional whisper of your vectors moving through the void. You leaned back against a cubic structure, settling in for your watch. Time felt meaningless here, suspended between heartbeats in this strange geometric landscape that existed outside normal space.

The question of why you cared at all floated unbidden through your mind. You'd killed and collected across countless dimensions, rarely forming attachments to those you encountered. Yet something about this broken, determined man had caught your interest beyond his abilities. Perhaps it was recognition - another outcast, another collector of sorts, someone else who had been shaped by violence and loss into something both more and less than human.

You move closer to Obito's sleeping form, drawn by a curiosity you rarely indulged with your targets. Usually, your interest was clinical - analyzing abilities, calculating weaknesses - but this was different. Your vectors extended with uncharacteristic gentleness, hovering just above the scarred side of his face.

Your vectors traced the raised ridges of tissue that mapped his past suffering. The scars were extensive, running in harsh lines across the right side of his face and disappearing beneath his collar. Whatever had caused this damage had nearly killed him - should have killed him. "I wonder what you'd be like if life had been kinder to you..." you whispered, your voice barely audible even in the silent dimension.

Obito stirred slightly at your touch but didn't wake, his breathing remaining deep and even. In sleep, the hard lines of his face softened, making him appear younger - closer to the boy he must have been before trauma reshaped him. You withdrew your vectors slightly when he shifted position, not wanting to disturb the rest he so clearly needed.

You studied the contrast between his scarred and unmarred skin, fascinated by the physical manifestation of his suffering. Your own scars were largely internal - invisible markers of dimensions traveled and lives ended. His were etched into his flesh, a permanent reminder of whatever catastrophe had set him on this path of destruction.

One of your vectors gently brushed a lock of dark hair from his forehead, the gesture surprisingly tender for someone who had beheaded a world leader just hours ago. There was something almost peaceful in watching over him like this - a strange intimacy in guarding the sleep of another predator. In all your travels across dimensions, you'd rarely felt this peculiar connection, this recognition of a kindred spirit.

Obito's eye suddenly snapped open, Sharingan spinning rapidly as his hand shot up to catch your vector. "What are you doing?" he demanded, his voice sleep-rough but instantly alert. He sat up sharply, maintaining his grip on your now-visible vector, his expression a complex mix of confusion and wariness. The moment of vulnerability had passed, replaced by the hardened shinobi who trusted no one.

"Nothing would be a bad answer?" You withdrew your vector from his grip, letting it dissolve back into invisibility. His sudden shift from peaceful slumber to combat-ready alertness was almost comical - like watching a cat startled from a nap.

You rolled your eyes at his intense reaction. He was so serious all the time, wound tighter than a spring even in his own dimension where literally no one could reach him. The man couldn't relax if his life depended on it, which was ironic considering his life had probably been saved countless times by his ability to stay vigilant.

"I was just moving the hair from your face... nothing weird," you explained with a casual shrug, though even as the words left your mouth, you realized it was kind of weird. Why had you felt compelled to touch him while he slept? To study his scars? To offer some small comfort? The intimacy of the gesture suddenly struck you as unusually tender for someone who had just beheaded a Kage hours earlier.

Obito's Sharingan continued spinning, searching your face for deception. "You were studying my scars," he stated flatly, neither a question nor an accusation, simply an observation. His hand rose unconsciously to the damaged side of his face, fingers tracing the ridged tissue as if reminded of its presence by your attention.

You leaned back against a cubic structure, giving him space while maintaining an air of nonchalance. Something about his reaction made you feel oddly exposed - as if he had caught you doing something far more vulnerable than merely touching his hair. The silence between you stretched, filled only by the strange not-quite-echo of the dimensional void.

"No one has touched me without intent to harm in... a very long time," he finally said, his voice carefully neutral despite the weight of his words. The admission seemed to surprise even him, his scarred features momentarily registering confusion at his own candor. He looked away, staring into the endless geometric landscape of his dimension as if seeking escape from the unexpected intimacy of the moment.

"Makes sense... tacoless, touchless... humorless," you said softly, your finger tracing idle patterns on the cubic surface beneath you. There was no accusation in your tone, just quiet observation as you studied his profile against the strange geometric backdrop.

Obito turned back to face you, his scarred features tightening with something between confusion and irritation. "Is there a point to these observations?" He shifted uncomfortably, clearly unsure how to respond to your casual dissection of his character.

You couldn't help but smile at his discomfort, enjoying the way your simple comments could unbalance someone so deadly. You stretched your arms above your head lazily, vectors swirling around you like playful serpents. "Just noting that you're quite the stick in the mud that I liked to play with," you said with a teasing lilt. Despite the childish phrasing, there was something almost predatory in your gaze as you watched for his reaction.

Obito stared at you, his Sharingan spinning slowly as if trying to decipher some hidden meaning in your words. For a moment, something almost like amusement flickered across his scarred face. "You find this... entertaining?" He gestured between the two of you, encompassing the strange dynamic that had formed between interdimensional killer and rogue shinobi. "Most would be terrified to be trapped in a dimension with me."

You crossed your legs, settling into a more comfortable position on your cubic perch. "Most people haven't beheaded a Kage before breakfast," you replied with a casual shrug. Your vectors continued their lazy dance around you, occasionally brushing against the strange physics of the dimension, testing its boundaries. "Besides, I'm not trapped here. We both know I could leave if I wanted to." It wasn't exactly a threat, but the implication hung in the air between you - your growing understanding of his ability, your collector's instinct quietly analyzing and adapting.

A tense silence stretched between you, broken only by the strange non-sound of your vectors moving through the dimensional void. Obito's expression remained unreadable, but something had shifted in his posture - a slight tensing, a recalculation. He recognized the truth in your words, understood the danger you represented even to him. Yet instead of pulling away, he moved closer, his scarred face caught in the strange, sourceless light of his dimension as he studied you with new intensity. "Then why do you stay?" The question was simple, but loaded with unspoken complexity.

You looked away, your vectors curling inward protectively like nervous serpents. "Because I'm lying. I can't leave without you... not yet at least..." The admission cost you something - vulnerability was never your strong suit. You ran a hand through your blood-flecked hair, frustrated at having to reveal even this small weakness.

"Besides, you act like I'm particularly aware of your reputation... I'm from another dimension. I don't know anything besides what I've seen so far. And your ability is space-time manipulation. So... not too far from my ally." Your vectors danced lazily around you, betraying none of the careful calculations happening behind your casual words.

Obito's Sharingan spun slower as he processed your honesty, his scarred face unreadable in the strange light. "You need me to transport you," he stated flatly. Not a question but a confirmation, his voice carrying neither triumph nor suspicion - just cold analysis.

You nodded reluctantly, hating the admission but seeing little point in continued deception. He was your only way in and out of dimensions right now. The irony wasn't lost on you - for all your deadly power, you were temporarily dependent on this broken man with his eye-based abilities. You couldn't manipulate space and time to your will, not yet anyway, though you had plenty of experience being ripped from one reality to the next, even if unwillingly. His ability was a treasure you needed.

"Also, you should be more scared of me than I should be of you if you knew what my actual ability was and how I acquired my arsenal," you said with a predatory smile, vectors extending slightly in unconscious emphasis. The dim light cast strange shadows across your face, highlighting the dangerous glint in your eyes.

Obito didn't flinch at your implied threat, but something shifted in his posture - a subtle reevaluation. "Interesting," he murmured, his voice unexpectedly soft. He reached toward you slowly, not with aggression but with curiosity, his scarred fingers stopping just short of touching one of your visible vectors. "Perhaps we have more to offer each other than just transportation and combat skills." The admission hung between you in the dimensional void, an unexpected bridge forming between two killers from different worlds.

"Like what? Ima need you to be blunt. I don't feel like figuring shit out right now," you said, crossing your arms across your chest. Your mind was occupied elsewhere, not when all your focus was on how his ability worked. The way space bent around him fascinated you-how matter phased through other matter, how dimensions folded at his command.

Obito's scarred face remained impassive, but something flickered behind his mismatched eyes. "Knowledge. Power. Purpose," he stated flatly, each word hanging in the void between you. "You seek abilities. I seek to reshape reality itself. Perhaps our goals are not so different."

You studied the subtle patterns of chakra flowing through his Sharingan. The eye's hypnotic spiraling pattern wasn't just for show-it served as a focal point for his dimensional manipulation. If you could just understand the underlying principles, replicate that specific energy signature, maybe you wouldn't need to kill him to acquire his ability. The thought brought an unexpected sense of relief.

"You're not listening," Obito observed, his hand waving inches from your face. "You're studying my technique even now, aren't you?" Instead of anger, his voice carried a note of genuine curiosity. He leaned closer, close enough that you could see the individual tomoe swirling in his Sharingan. "Most would be terrified to be so vulnerable in my presence. Yet you look at me like I'm a puzzle to be solved."

You blinked, momentarily pulled from your analysis. He wasn't wrong. While he spoke of alliances and mutual benefit, you'd been mentally dissecting his jutsu, calculating the energy ratios required to tear holes in spacetime. Your vectors twitched unconsciously, mirroring the patterns you observed in his chakra flow. "Force of habit," you admitted with a shrug. "I collect abilities. Yours is... interesting."

Obito didn't back away, his scarred face uncomfortably close to yours. His expression shifted subtly, something almost like amusement playing at the edges of his usually grim features. "Perhaps instead of studying me like a specimen, you could simply ask. Even monsters can be... collaborative, under the right circumstances." He extended his hand again, not to attack but as an offer. "I could teach you, if you're willing to learn." The proposition hung between you, unexpected and strangely intimate in this pocket dimension where time had no meaning.

Chapter Text

You studied Obito's outstretched hand, your vectors coiling thoughtfully around you. The offer was tempting - direct instruction from the source rather than your usual methods of acquisition. But some abilities simply couldn't be taught.

"Unfortunately my abilities requires me to figure it out on my own. The first method is intuitive aptitude. Which requires litteral dissecting of my targets. Removing their skull cap and studying their brain... but I can't do that to you.... not a man that could become intangible at will.... no. I'd have to rely on the vibe method which requires visual observation and multiple exposure to the ability. It takes a lot longer. So I'll be sticking around a lot longer then nesseccary." Your vectors rippled with unconscious anticipation, betraying your collector's excitement despite your casual tone.

Obito's expression darkened slightly, his Sharingan studying you with renewed intensity. "Brain dissection?" He withdrew his hand slowly, reassessing you with what might have been respectful caution. "You're more dangerous than I realized. Interesting."

You shrugged, the motion sending your vectors swaying like seagrass in an invisible current. "As far as tampering with reality, I'm afraid I'm the worst person to help you with such a task. I'm a dimensional anomaly. If I mess with reality as an outsider I could cause an incursion. And at the rate your going... I'm bound to run into a Cannon event or main cast. I can't touch those."

Obito tilted his head, a gesture so subtly curious it almost seemed human. "Canon events? Main cast?" Something dangerous flashed behind his Sharingan. "You speak as if our world is some predetermined story. As if our choices are already written."

You realized your mistake too late, the casual reference to his world's narrative structure slipping out without thought. The dimensional barriers between worlds were complex - some realities existed as fiction in others, a cosmic joke you'd learned to navigate carefully. "It's complicated," you offered lamely, vectors drawing closer to your body in an unconsciously protective gesture. "Let's just say I know things about this world that I shouldn't, and interfering too much could unravel everything." The admission hung between you, heavier than the proposition that had preceded it.

"Only certain people have a predetermined destiny if you will... and if anything happens to them outside of what should, then reality will cave in on itself. Like losing the support of pillars. Believe me. I've been around the block a few times," you explained, your vectors swirling thoughtfully around you. The strange light of the dimension caught their edges, making them gleam like obsidian ribbons against the geometric landscape.

Obito's Sharingan narrowed, its hypnotic spiral slowing as he processed your words. "You speak of fate as if it's a physical law," he said, his scarred face tightening with something between suspicion and fascination. "As if some lives matter more than others to the fabric of existence itself."

You shrugged, the casual gesture at odds with the cosmic weight of the conversation. "It's not about mattering more. It's about structural integrity. Some people are just... load-bearing. I've seen worlds collapse because someone who was supposed to become a hero died too early. Or someone who should have been a villain got redeemed before their time." Your vectors traced abstract patterns in the air, mimicking the collapse of dimensional barriers you'd witnessed firsthand.

Obito was silent for a long moment, his mismatched eyes studying you with renewed intensity. He moved closer, his voice dropping to a near-whisper that somehow filled the dimensional void. "And me? Am I one of these pillars?" There was something vulnerable in the question, a glimpse of the boy he once was beneath layers of trauma and hatred.

You tilted your head, studying the complex swirl of energy that made up his being. "I don't know yet. But your abilities are rare enough that I suspect you're important." You reached out, your fingers hovering inches from the scarred side of his face. "That's why I'm trying to understand your ability rather than just... taking it. The usual way."

Obito caught your wrist, his grip firm but not painful. The contact sent an unexpected jolt through your arm, his skin surprisingly warm against yours. "Then we find ourselves at an impasse," he said softly, his Sharingan spinning slowly as it locked with your gaze. "You need my ability to travel between dimensions. I need assurance you won't dissect my brain the moment you learn to replicate it." His thumb moved almost imperceptibly against your pulse point, the small gesture oddly intimate in the vast emptiness surrounding you both.

"Pointless to dissect your brain once I've already learned to replicate it," you said matter-of-factly. Your tone was quick and to the point, your vectors rippling slightly around you as you spoke.

"And if you're a pillar, killing you could cause reality to cave in with me trapped in it. I like existing." Your pragmatic assessment of the situation hung in the void between you, oddly reassuring despite its clinical nature.

Obito released your wrist slowly, his scarred face betraying a flicker of surprise at your straightforward response. "How... practical of you," he said, the corner of his mouth twitching almost imperceptibly. "Most people justify not killing others with morality, not dimensional stability concerns."

You shrugged, stretching your vectors lazily around the strange cubic landscape. There was something oddly comfortable about this bizarre situation - two killers discussing the practicalities of murder and reality collapse in a pocket dimension. The blood of the Mizukage was still flaking off your clothes, yet here you were, having what almost amounted to a philosophical conversation.

Obito studied your face with renewed interest, his Sharingan spinning slowly as if reassessing you entirely. "You're truly not from this world," he said softly, more observation than question. "The way you view everything, even death itself... it's fascinating. Like watching someone who exists just slightly adjacent to reality."

You felt an unexpected warmth at his words - not quite praise but recognition, acknowledgment of your otherness that didn't frame it as monstrous. Most people in the worlds you visited eventually looked at you with fear or disgust when they realized what you were. Obito looked at you with something closer to curiosity, perhaps even respect. It was... nice, this strange moment of connection floating in a dimensional void with a fellow killer who didn't quite belong anywhere either.

"You're starting to like me, aren't you?" The question slipped out before you could stop it, hanging in the void between you.

You laughed lightly, the sound echoing strangely through the dimensional space. Despite his coldness, his scars, his talk of destroying reality-he'd refused to just ditch you. You wondered why that was. Was it just your usefulness to his plans, or something more?

Obito's scarred face tightened, but something flickered behind his mismatched eyes-an emotion quickly suppressed. "'Like' is irrelevant," he replied, turning away slightly. "We have aligned goals. Nothing more."

You studied his profile, noting how his jaw clenched when he spoke. For someone planning world destruction, he was surprisingly bad at hiding certain emotions. "Bullshit," you said cheerfully. "You could have dropped me in any dimension and continued your plans alone. But here I am, in your private space, learning your abilities." Your vectors swirled playfully around your crossed legs.

Obito remained silent for a long moment, his Sharingan spinning slowly as he stared into the geometric void. "Perhaps I see something useful in our partnership," he finally admitted. "Someone unbound by this world's rules... someone who understands what it means to exist outside normal reality." His voice softened almost imperceptibly. "Someone who doesn't look at me with fear or disgust."

You felt something unexpected bloom in your chest-warmth that had nothing to do with your vectors or the strange physics of this place. It wasn't often you met someone who could look at what you were, what you did, and see something other than a monster. Maybe that's why neither of you had walked away yet, despite the practical dangers of two predators circling each other. In this empty space between worlds, you'd both found something rare-recognition.

"So.... once we leave this place... we're going to have to kill a lot of mist ninja for sure.. do you think the other Kage got the message or will I have to pluck them one by one as well?" You asked, breaking the moment of unexpected connection between you. Your vectors coiled restlessly at the thought of more combat, more abilities to potentially collect.

Obito's expression shifted back to calculating coldness, the brief vulnerability vanishing like mist under harsh sunlight. "The Mizukage's death will send shockwaves through all Five Great Nations," he replied, pacing across the cubic platform. "But never underestimate a Kage's ego. Each will believe themselves different, better protected, more cunning than the one who fell."

You nodded, idly stretching your vectors into the void, enjoying how they seemed to distort the strange physics of this place when fully extended. The idea of hunting down more of these world leaders appealed to your collector's instinct. Each would have unique abilities, techniques you could study and potentially add to your arsenal.

"The other villages will strengthen their defenses now," Obito continued, his Sharingan gleaming in the dimension's strange light. "The Tsuchikage particularly will be a challenge. The old man is as durable as the rocks his village is named for." His scarred face twisted into something resembling respect. Even in his disdain for the world, he acknowledged power where it existed.

You rolled your eyes dramatically, confidence radiating from every fiber of your being. "As if anything could stop us now that we're working together. Those villages won't expect what's coming." Your vectors swirled around you with predatory eagerness, their movements reflecting your growing excitement at the prospect of new challenges, new abilities to understand.

Obito studied you for a long moment, something unreadable flickering across his scarred features. "There's something almost refreshing about your confidence," he admitted, the ghost of a smile touching his lips. "Very well. Once we've rested, we'll target the Tsuchikage next. His particle style would make quite an addition to your... collection." The way he emphasized the last word suggested he was starting to understand your true nature, your insatiable hunger for new abilities-and perhaps finding it more interesting than horrifying.

"Oh? What's the particle style?" you asked, leaning forward with obvious interest. Your vectors swirled around you excitedly, like predatory tendrils sensing potential prey. The mention of a new ability had immediately captured your full attention.

Obito studied your reaction, a knowing glint in his Sharingan. "One of the most destructive kekkei tōta in existence," he explained, his deep voice filling the dimensional void. "The Tsuchikage can break down matter at the molecular level, creating a cube-shaped explosion that disintegrates anything caught within it. No defense, no evasion-only complete molecular destruction."

Your eyes widened with undisguised hunger. The ability to reduce matter to nothing-that was something you hadn't encountered before in your dimensional travels. Your vectors trembled with anticipation, already trying to conceptualize how such power would feel flowing through them. "And you think I could... collect it?" The question came out breathier than intended, almost reverent.

Obito's scarred lip curled slightly, amusement flickering across his usually stoic features. "Theoretically. Though the old man has survived three shinobi wars for good reason. His defenses are formidable, and his experience unmatched." He crossed his arms, leaning against one of the floating cubic structures. "Even with your... unique abilities, he won't be as easy to dispatch as the Mizukage."

You grinned widely, a predator's smile that didn't quite reach your eyes. The challenge only made the potential reward sweeter. Your vectors extended further into the void, unconsciously mimicking the cube-shaped destruction Obito had described. "Sounds fun. Molecular disintegration would be a nice addition to my toolkit."

Something unspoken passed between you in that moment-a recognition beyond words. Two killers from different worlds, each understanding the other's peculiar hunger. Obito might seek to reshape reality itself, while you collected abilities across dimensions, but beneath your different goals lay a similar darkness, a willingness to break any boundary. "Rest while you can," he said softly, his Sharingan never leaving your face. "Tomorrow, we hunt a legend."

Chapter Text

You tilted your head, processing the information about this formidable opponent you'd soon face. "Yeah... so he shoots laser beams essentially?" you asked after a moment of silence. You wondered if Obito even knew what laser beams were-probably, but with an entirely different perspective given this world's strange blend of ancient and advanced technologies.

Obito's scarred face registered momentary confusion before understanding dawned. "Not quite. There's no beam-just instant molecular breakdown within a defined area. No trajectory, no dodging. Whatever's caught inside simply... ceases to exist." He demonstrated with his hands, creating a small cubic shape with his fingers before closing them into a fist. The gesture was surprisingly elegant for someone so battle-hardened.

You stretched out lazily on your cubic perch, vectors swirling around you like curious serpents as you contemplated this new ability. The dimensional void seemed to ripple slightly with your movement, responding to your presence in ways you didn't fully understand yet. "You can rest your head in my lap if you want," you offered casually, enjoying the sudden tension that appeared in Obito's shoulders.

You knew you were making shit awkward, but it was funny to watch his body language shift so dramatically from battle-ready commander to uncomfortable human being. You wondered when he'd catch on that you were deliberately pushing his boundaries, testing the limits of his stoic persona. For someone who had spent years orchestrating world events from the shadows, he was surprisingly easy to fluster with simple human contact.

Obito stared at you, his Sharingan spinning slowly as if trying to decode some hidden trap in your offer. "That won't be necessary," he replied stiffly, though something flickered behind his mismatched eyes-uncertainty, perhaps, or the distant memory of comfort he'd long denied himself. "We should focus on planning our approach to Iwagakure. The Tsuchikage is never without his elite guard."

"Tell me about Iwagakure," you said suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between you. Your interest wasn't merely tactical-there was genuine curiosity in your voice about this place you'd soon be visiting to hunt its leader.

Your vectors mimicked Obito's earlier hand movements subconsciously, forming a perfect square in the air between you. The black tendrils moved with fluid precision, outlining the cube-shaped destruction he had described. You rolled your ankle around slightly, the small human gesture contrasting with the deadly conversation about molecular disintegration and assassination.

Obito watched your vectors with undisguised fascination before responding. "The Village Hidden in the Stones sits nestled within a mountain range, protected by natural rock formations and impenetrable fortifications," he explained, his deep voice filling the dimensional void. "Unlike the mist-shrouded Kirigakure, Iwagakure thrives on stability and tradition. Their shinobi specialize in Earth-style jutsu-stubborn, unmovable fighters who endure rather than evade."

He paced slowly across the cubic platform, his black cloak swirling around his legs as he moved. "The Tsuchikage himself-Ōnoki-is ancient even by shinobi standards. They call him 'the Fence-Sitter' for his political caution, yet he's among the deadliest fighters in the Five Nations. Small in stature but immense in power." His Sharingan gleamed with something like respect as he spoke of the old leader.

"Iwagakure has remained largely unchanged for generations-a village carved from stone, both literally and metaphorically. Their ninja are trained to die rather than surrender." He paused, studying your face. "The people are hardy, suspicious of outsiders. After the Third Great War, they became even more isolated, trusting only their rock walls and their Tsuchikage to keep them safe."

You absorbed this information silently, your vectors continuing their geometric dance while your mind mapped out potential approaches. The thought of facing an entire village of earth-users-stubborn fighters protected by actual mountains-presented an interesting challenge. But the prize at the end-molecular disintegration at your fingertips-made your vectors quiver with anticipation. Unlike the Mizukage's ambush in her bedroom, this would require actual strategy. The hunt would be just as satisfying as the kill.

"Stubborn huh? I guess I won't be talking them out of removing us from their wanted list... so I'm going there to kill an old man who's way past his prime? Yet he's still formidable?" you sighed, crossing your arms. "The shinobi world is messy. In other worlds, I would at least get a surrender from the first high-ranking kill. But the people in this world are unnecessarily stubborn. They'd rather fight till they died than simply removing a hit."

Obito's scarred face showed a flicker of amusement. "You sound disappointed. Did you expect rational behavior from those who've built their entire existence around combat?" He moved to the edge of the cubic platform, gazing out into the swirling dimensional void. "Shinobi pride themselves on dying before surrendering. It's considered honorable."

You stretched your vectors lazily, the black tendrils twisting through the strange non-space of Obito's dimension. The concept seemed absurd to you - dying for pride when living could serve a much more practical purpose. But then, you'd seen stranger cultural fixations across the multiverse.

"The Tsuchikage is particularly stubborn," Obito continued, his Sharingan glowing softly in the dim light. "Ōnoki has survived three great wars not through caution, but through sheer obstinance. He refuses to die, refuses to yield, refuses to change. His power is formidable, but his mindset is his true weapon."

You rolled onto your stomach on the cubic surface, resting your chin on your hands as you contemplated this strange world and its death-obsessed warriors. The plan to assassinate the Tsuchikage would require more finesse than your previous kill. An old man with decades of combat experience wouldn't be easily surprised, especially after news of the Mizukage's death spread. Still, the thought of adding molecular disintegration to your arsenal made your vectors quiver with anticipation.

"So we need a better plan than just walking up and cutting his head off," you mused, tracing invisible patterns on the cube beneath you. The strange physics of this dimension made your vectors' movements leave brief afterimages in the void - dark ribbons of possibility that faded moments after appearing. "Tell me more about his guards. And his weaknesses. Everyone has them, even stubborn old men who can disintegrate molecules."

You listened intently as Obito detailed the security measures surrounding the Tsuchikage. His deep voice filled the dimensional void, describing layers of protection that would challenge even your considerable abilities.

"The Tsuchikage is protected by elite ANBU guards skilled in Earth Release techniques. The village itself is built within a mountain, with only one main entrance and few alternative access points. Ōnoki's weakness is his advanced age-his back troubles him constantly, limiting his mobility. But don't be deceived. When threatened, he can move with surprising speed." Obito's Sharingan spun lazily as he spoke, reflecting the strange sourceless light of the dimension.

"Even with my current arsenal, I wouldn't be able to escape something like that.... the ability to become intangible would certainly be a saving grace against an opponent like that." You frowned slightly, considering how your pain reflection ability would fare against molecular disintegration. Pain reflection worked by redirecting damage back to your attacker-but if your molecules were completely scattered, would there even be enough of you left to reflect the damage?

Your mind raced through potential strategies, vectors coiling thoughtfully around your body as you processed this new challenge. The Mizukage had been vulnerable in her bed, but this wizened warrior would be prepared, especially after news of her death spread. You needed something different-something unexpected.

"I got it. This time you kill the Kage. I take care of his guards. I can hold them off in large numbers, and also temporarily transfer my instant regeneration to you by attaching one of my vectors to you. You should have essentially an endless chakra supply so you can spam your kekkei genkai." Your vectors danced excitedly around you as you outlined the plan. It was a solid tactical approach, but you kept to yourself how this connection would also allow you to feel Obito's ability more intimately-to experience the exact sensation of phasing through matter, of bending dimensions to your will. The perfect way to study and eventually replicate his power without him realizing your true intent.

Obito's scarred face showed a flicker of surprise before settling into thoughtful consideration. "An interesting proposition," he said, studying your vectors with renewed interest. "This regeneration transfer-I've never seen such an ability. With your vectors keeping the guards occupied and supporting my stamina..." He nodded slowly, the tactical advantage clearly appealing to his strategic mind. "Very well. We'll approach at dawn, when the guard rotation creates a brief vulnerability. The old man won't know what hit him."

You wiggled in place excitedly, a spontaneous little dance that seemed oddly childlike for someone who had just helped assassinate a Kage. Your vectors swirled around you with similar enthusiasm, mirroring your delight at the thought of the upcoming challenge.

"This is perfect. I can handle the guards easily," you said, stretching your arms above your head. "I'm actually well suited for handling larger numbers. And I can counter their earth style jutsus with my earth bending - use their own tactics against them." Your vectors formed rough approximations of rock formations in the air, demonstrating how you'd turn their abilities back on them.

Obito watched your impromptu celebration with a mixture of confusion and fascination, his Sharingan tracking the movement of your vectors as they danced around you. "You seem... oddly enthusiastic about facing an entire village's elite guard," he observed, something almost like amusement flickering across his scarred features.

You turned to him suddenly, your expression shifting to something more serious as a crucial detail occurred to you. "Oh... when you kill him... keep his head unharmed... I'll need that." The casual way you mentioned needing an intact human head hung in the dimensional void between you.

Obito's eye narrowed slightly, though he showed no other reaction to your gruesome request. "For your ability acquisition," he stated rather than asked. He nodded once, a curt acceptance of your macabre requirement. "I can ensure the head remains... functional. The particle style disintegrates matter, but I can phase us both through his attack if necessary."

You smiled broadly at his understanding, pleased that you wouldn't have to explain the grisly details of your intuitive aptitude. Most allies throughout your dimensional travels had balked at the bloody reality of your brain examination technique. But Obito simply accepted it as a tactical consideration, another piece of the mission parameters. Perhaps that was why you were growing oddly comfortable in his presence - there was no judgment here, just two monsters planning their next kill together in the quiet of a pocket dimension where morality couldn't reach.

"Alright so it's a plan," you said decisively, stretching your arms forward across the cubic surface. The conversation had shifted from theoretical to concrete - tomorrow you would face the Tsuchikage together, a perfect division of labor between two killers with complementary abilities.

You kicked your feet lazily in the air as you lay on your stomach, vectors swirling around you in idle patterns that resembled the cubic destruction you'd soon witness firsthand. The strange dimensional light cast shifting shadows across your blood-flecked face, highlighting your casual comfort in this void between worlds.

"What's your goal anyway in doing this all with me? You didn't have to agree with kage assassination yet you're in this with me with both feet. Why is that?" You rolled onto your side, propping your head up with one hand as you studied Obito's scarred face. The question had been building since you'd first teamed up, but the intimacy of this strange pocket dimension finally gave you the courage to voice it.

Obito remained silent for a long moment, his Sharingan spinning slowly as he seemed to weigh how much truth to reveal. "The death of the Kage creates... useful chaos," he finally said, his deep voice filling the dimensional void. "Power vacuums, fear, nations turning on each other with suspicion. All serve my broader aims." Despite the clinical explanation, something in his tone suggested there was more - something personal he wasn't sharing.

You sat up fully, your vectors coiling closer to your body as you sensed his partial honesty. "That's the tactical reason, sure. But there's something else, isn't there?" Whatever drove this scarred man went beyond mere strategy - you'd seen enough killers across dimensions to recognize when someone's motives ran deeper than they admitted, even to themselves.

Obito turned away slightly, his profile sharp against the geometric landscape. "Perhaps," he admitted quietly, "there is something... familiar about you. Something that reminds me of myself, before..." He gestured vaguely at his scarred face, the unfinished sentence hanging between you like a physical presence in the dimensional void. "You see the world as it truly is - a cruel joke waiting to be rewritten. And you don't flinch from what must be done."

Chapter Text

"It's easier to do that when you're an outsider looking in. So you value my perception of your world? That's interesting. Most don't." You leaned back, vectors swirling lazily around your head like a dark halo. There was something oddly vulnerable about this moment - this feared shinobi admitting he saw himself in you.

Obito studied your face intently, his Sharingan spinning slowly as if trying to memorize your features. "Most people in this world are blinded by illusions of peace, justice, love..." he spat the last word with particular venom. "They can't see the fundamental brokenness of reality because they're too embedded within it. But you-" He gestured at you with one scarred hand. "You've seen other worlds. Your perspective is... unclouded."

You tilted your head, considering his words. In your travels across dimensions, you'd been called many things - monster, abomination, collector, killer - but "unclouded" was new. Your vectors rippled slightly, reflecting your contemplative mood. It was true that being dimensionally displaced gave you a certain clarity. The arbitrary rules and passionate attachments that drove most beings seemed absurd when you'd seen how easily entire universes could differ.

"Most people don't appreciate having their worldview challenged," you said, stretching your arms above your head. "They get defensive when an outsider points out the flaws in their reality. But you're different - you already want to tear it all down." You smiled slightly, vectors forming abstract patterns in the dimensional void. "Makes you more fun to talk to, at least."

Obito's scarred lip twitched in what might have been the ghost of a smile. "This world is beyond saving. I learned that lesson through blood and loss." He moved closer, the intensity of his mismatched eyes locking with yours. "Tell me, Raven - in all your dimensional travels, have you ever seen a world truly worth preserving? Or are they all just different varieties of the same fundamental cruelty?"

You considered the question seriously, your vectors slowing their dance as you reflected on the countless realities you'd visited. Each dimension had its own rules, its own beauty, its own horrors. You'd seen utopias built on unimaginable sacrifice and hellscapes where small kindnesses flourished like flowers through concrete. "I've seen worlds worth protecting," you admitted softly. "And worlds that deserved to burn. The difference was never in how the world was built, but in what people chose to do within its constraints." You studied Obito's reaction carefully, wondering if this scarred man who'd seen only one reality could understand the perspective of someone who'd wandered through countless versions of existence.

"In one world... powers don't exist... I saw a man lose everything and still get back up... world like this, a man will experience unimaginable power but once he falls he stays down.... I find that pathetic. That a man born with nothing can stand even though he's broken, yet a man born with talent breaks so easily once the rug is pulled beneath their feet. They cause the most chaos. And there's tons of people like that. Those worlds are the worlds I don't mind causing an incursion in... as long I can escape that is," you said, your voice soft but cutting in the dimensional silence.

Obito's scarred face tightened, something flashing behind his Sharingan that might have been recognition-or offense. "You're speaking of this world. Of shinobi." It wasn't a question. He turned away slightly, his profile harsh against the geometric backdrop of the dimension. "You've seen nothing of our suffering. Of what drives us to-"

"Break? Fall apart? Plot world destruction?" You interrupted, your vectors coiling around you like agitated serpents. "I've seen it all, Obito. Across countless dimensions. The pattern repeats-those given great power often collapse completely when that power fails them. It's like they never learned to stand on their own two feet."

You sat up fully, fixing him with an intensity that matched his own. The proximity between you felt suddenly charged, two apex predators circling each other in this strange void. Your vectors swayed between you, not quite threatening but certainly not passive either. "Whatever happened to you-whatever broke you-it's not unique. And it doesn't justify unmaking reality."

Obito's laugh was harsh, almost unfamiliar in the stillness of the dimension. "And yet here you are, helping me kill Kages. Collecting abilities like trophies." He moved closer, his scarred face inches from yours, Sharingan spinning slowly. "We're not so different, you and I. We've both seen the truth of things. The only difference is what we choose to do with that knowledge."

You felt the strange tension between you shift into something else entirely-recognition, perhaps, or some deeper connection that transcended dimensional barriers. For all your differences, you both existed outside normal boundaries, shaped by violence into something both more and less than human. You extended a single vector between you, its tip hovering just above his scarred cheek in a gesture that could have been either threat or caress. "Maybe. But I destroy to collect, Obito. What's your excuse?"

A tense silence hung in the dimensional void as you watched the complex emotions flicker across Obito's scarred face. Your vector remained poised near his cheek, neither retreating nor advancing. His Sharingan spun slowly, hypnotically, as he processed your challenge.

"And not only that. You're bound to this world. I am not. Through many worlds, the people become fodder for me. There is no attachment." Your vectors coiled around you protectively, their movement fluid and predatory. "When you've seen as many realities as I have, you realize how small and interchangeable most lives are. Today's tragedy is tomorrow's forgotten history in another dimension."

Obito's eye narrowed, something dark and contemplative settling into his gaze. "Is that how you justify it? Dimensional detachment?" He reached up slowly, his scarred fingers passing through your vector without touching it, demonstrating his own power. "At least I have conviction. I'm destroying this world to create something better."

You laughed, the sound echoing strangely in the dimensional pocket. There was something almost liberating about this conversation - two killers discussing philosophy in a place where morality couldn't reach you. "Better for who? The dead? The ones you'll manipulate into your perfect illusion?" Your vectors swirled faster, mirroring your growing intensity. "At least I'm honest about what I am. I take what I want because I can. No grand justifications needed."

Obito leaned forward suddenly, his face inches from yours, his Sharingan boring into your eyes with unnerving intensity. "And what exactly are you, Raven?" He spoke softly, his voice barely above a whisper yet somehow filling the entire void. "A collector without purpose? A predator without territory? At least I belong somewhere, even if I choose to destroy it."

You felt something unexpected twist in your chest at his words - not pain exactly, but recognition. For all your dimensional travel, you had no home, no anchor point in the vast multiverse. Just an endless hunt for new abilities, new sensations. Your vectors retracted slightly, coiling closer to your body in an almost defensive gesture. The conversation had shifted from philosophical debate to something more personal, more cutting - and Obito, for all his scars and darkness, had found a vulnerability you rarely acknowledged even to yourself.

"Ouch. I see I've upset you. So you're trying to hurt me with your words. Do you feel better now? Is this your big gotcha moment? You're so close. Are you going to hit me or kiss me?" You fired back defensively, your voice carrying a forced lightness that didn't match the tightness in your chest. Your vectors swirled protectively around you, betraying your emotional state despite your attempt at nonchalance.

Obito's scarred face registered genuine surprise, his Sharingan momentarily ceasing its hypnotic spinning. "What?" The single word hung in the dimensional void as he visibly struggled to process your response. He took half a step back, his usual composure cracking to reveal something almost vulnerable beneath.

You watched him carefully, noting how your words had disrupted his calculated demeanor. For someone who orchestrated world events from the shadows, he seemed remarkably thrown by simple human interaction. The realization gave you back a measure of control you'd momentarily lost. "You heard me. You push, I push back. That's how this works." Your vectors stretched lazily between you, neither threatening nor retreating.

Obito's expression hardened again, the momentary vulnerability vanishing behind his customary mask of detachment. "You mistake me for someone who cares about your feelings. I simply made an observation." Despite his cold words, he remained standing close to you, the tension between you shifting into something neither of you seemed willing to name.

You laughed softly, the sound echoing strangely in the dimensional void. There was something almost liberating about this bizarre standoff - two killers circling each other in a pocket universe where normal rules didn't apply. "Sure you did. And I'm just making observations too. Like how you didn't actually answer my question." Your vectors curled playfully around your fingers, their movements deliberately casual despite the charged atmosphere.

Obito studied you with unnerving intensity, his mismatched eyes calculating something you couldn't quite read. "Neither option seems productive to our mission," he finally said, his voice carefully neutral. He turned away abruptly, moving toward the edge of the cubic platform. "Rest while you can. Tomorrow's target will require your full focus." Despite his dismissive words, something had shifted between you - a recognition of complexity beneath the simple predator-prey dynamic you'd both been maintaining.

"Aw and here I was hoping you'd kiss me," you said with an exaggerated pout, leaning forward provocatively. Your vectors swirled lazily around you, creating abstract patterns in the empty dimension.

You feigned disappointment, tilting your head to observe his reaction. The way his body tensed at your words was delicious - shoulders stiffening, jaw clenching, his Sharingan spinning just a fraction faster. For someone who manipulated nations from the shadows, he was remarkably easy to fluster with simple human connection.

The look on his face was so perfectly uncomfortable that you suddenly burst out laughing. The sound echoed strangely through the dimensional void, bouncing off geometric surfaces that shouldn't logically reflect sound. Your vectors rippled with your amusement, mirroring the shaking of your shoulders.

"You're so easy to fuck with. Super shinobi is shy," you managed between fits of laughter. You wiped an imaginary tear from your eye, enjoying how his scarred face shifted between confusion, irritation, and something else entirely - something almost vulnerable.

Obito stared at you, his mismatched eyes narrowing as he processed your mockery. "You find this amusing," he stated flatly, though a muscle twitched near his eye. "Playing games when we should be preparing for tomorrow's mission." Despite his cold tone, he hadn't moved away, still standing close enough that you could see the individual tomoe spinning in his Sharingan.

You stretched lazily on your cubic perch, completely unbothered by his disapproval. "All work and no play makes Obito a very dull boy," you teased, vectors dancing around your fingertips. "Besides, we have plenty of time. This dimension exists outside normal space-time, right? We could spend days in here and return to the exact moment we left." The observation hung between you, alongside the unspoken question of why he seemed so reluctant to acknowledge the strange connection forming between two killers from different worlds.

"When we're done killing all these Kage, I'm going to torture you," you declared with a mischievous grin spreading across your face. The sudden statement shattered the tension between you, your vectors swirling playfully as you watched his reaction.

Obito's scarred face tensed, his Sharingan narrowing suspiciously. "Is that a threat?" His voice dropped dangerously, the temperature in the dimension seeming to drop several degrees as his chakra flared instinctively.

You burst into laughter, the sound bouncing off the geometric structures surrounding you. "Not like that! I'm going to annoy the absolute hell out of you. Do weird shit just to see you get all tense and uncomfortable." You wiggled your fingers at him dramatically, your vectors mimicking the motion like strange shadow puppets. "This whole brooding, mysterious act you've got going? I'm going to crack it wide open."

Obito stared at you, genuine bewilderment replacing his usual calculated expression. For a moment, he looked almost young beneath the scars, like someone who'd forgotten how normal human interaction worked. "You are... strange," he finally said, though there was something almost like reluctant amusement hiding at the corner of his mouth. "Most people don't announce their intentions to irritate their allies."

You shrugged, stretching your vectors into increasingly bizarre shapes just to emphasize your point. "I'm not most people. Besides, you're way too serious. Someone needs to remind you that destroying the world doesn't mean you can't have fun while doing it." You poked a vector gently at his shoulder, testing whether he'd phase through it or allow the contact.

To your surprise, he remained solid, allowing your vector to press against his cloak. His Sharingan studied the point of contact with clinical interest rather than anger. "Fun," he repeated the word like it was from a foreign language. "You have a peculiar definition of the concept. But then again, you've already proven yourself... unconventional." There was something unreadable in his expression now - not quite warmth, but perhaps a reluctant recognition that your strangeness was, in its own way, a welcome disruption to his solitary existence.

Chapter Text

"I'm ready to get the party going though. When can we meet this Ōnoki?" You bounced to your feet in a fluid motion, vectors swirling excitedly around you. The anticipation of a new ability to study-molecular disintegration-had you practically vibrating with energy.

Obito opened his mouth to respond, but before he could utter a word, you lunged forward and wrapped your arms around his torso. His body went rigid with shock as you lifted him clean off the ground and spun him in a quick circle, your vectors helping to support his weight. The look of absolute bewilderment on his scarred face was priceless-like a cat that had unexpectedly been dunked in water.

"What are you-" He sputtered as you set him down, his usual composure completely shattered. For a moment, he looked ready to phase through your grip, but he'd been caught too off-guard to activate his ability. "Have you lost your mind?" His voice was tight with confusion rather than anger, like he genuinely couldn't process what had just happened.

You laughed brightly, enjoying his discomfort. "Just getting warmed up for our big fight! Besides, you're too serious all the time." Your vectors danced playfully around you both, some of them mimicking the spinning motion you'd just performed. There was something deeply satisfying about disrupting his carefully maintained aura of mystery and threat. The mighty Obito Uchiha, architect of destruction and manipulation, left speechless by a simple hug.

"We can depart at dawn," he finally managed, straightening his cloak with as much dignity as he could muster. His Sharingan studied you with renewed wariness, as if you were now an even more unpredictable threat than before. "The Tsuchikage will be conducting his morning inspection of the village defenses. It provides our best opportunity to infiltrate undetected."

You nodded cheerfully, still riding the high of your small victory over his stoicism. "Perfect! I can't wait to see this particle style in action. Almost as much as I can't wait to use it myself." Your vectors formed a small cubic shape between your hands, mimicking the molecular disintegration Obito had described. Whatever awaited you in Iwagakure tomorrow, you were certain of one thing-it wouldn't be boring.

Dawn came faster than expected in the timeless void of Kamui. You stood with Obito at the dimensional barrier, watching as he prepared to tear open a hole into the real world. The geometric landscape around you seemed to pulse with anticipation.

"Remember the plan. I handle the guards, you take down Onoki," you said, your vectors coiling eagerly around your body. "And I'll attach my vector to you for constant regeneration so you can spam your abilities without worrying about chakra drain." The black tendrils of your vectors danced with excitement at the prospect of combat and acquisition.

Obito nodded, his Sharingan glowing in the strange light. "The moment we emerge, we'll be detected. Be ready." He raised his hand, the fabric of reality warping around his fingers as he prepared the jutsu. "The Tsuchikage's abilities are not to be underestimated. Even with unlimited chakra, this won't be simple."

The dimensional barrier tore open, revealing a rocky outcropping overlooking Iwagakure. The village was carved directly into the mountain face, buildings stacked vertically along sheer cliffs. You stepped through alongside Obito, the cool morning air hitting your face as the dimensional pocket closed behind you. Below, tiny figures moved along winding paths-shinobi beginning their morning patrols.

You immediately slipped one of your vectors into Obito's body, establishing the connection needed for your regenerative transfer. It was an intimate link-you could feel his chakra network now, the strange doubled sensation of his Sharingan's drain and your vector's constant replenishment creating a perfect equilibrium. "There. Now you've got unlimited stamina," you whispered, grinning as you felt your power flowing into him. "Let's go kill a Kage."

An alarm bell rang out almost instantly-someone had spotted you. Rock ninja emerged from hidden positions along the cliff face, hands already forming seals. You laughed, vectors exploding outward in all directions as you prepared to engage. Through your connection to Obito, you could feel him gathering chakra for what would likely be the fight of his life against the legendary Tsuchikage, while you'd handle the welcoming committee. The hunt had begun.

You moved with deadly precision, your vectors slicing through the first wave of rock shinobi like they were made of paper. Limbs separated from bodies with surgical efficiency, blood spraying across the rocky outcropping in crimson arcs. But for every ninja who fell, three more emerged from hidden positions carved into the mountain face.

"They just keep coming!" you called out excitedly, your vectors dancing in a deadly ballet around you. The sensation was exhilarating-ninety-nine black tendrils extending up to twenty-five meters in every direction, creating a hemisphere of death around your position. You made sure to stay within range of Obito, who phased effortlessly through every attack directed his way.

Your connection remained steady, one vector embedded firmly within his chakra network, feeding him endless energy as he ghosted through the alliance ranks. Through this link, you could feel the strange sensation of his body becoming intangible-matter passing through matter in a way that defied conventional physics. It was a unique feeling, one you carefully studied even as you fought.

A squad of elite jonin completed a series of synchronized hand signs, and the mountain itself seemed to groan in response. Massive boulders tore free from the cliff face, hurtling toward you with devastating force. You grinned wickedly as you extended your vectors toward the incoming projectiles, channeling your earth bending technique through them.

"Let me return these to sender!" With a flick of your vectors, you reversed the momentum of the massive rocks, sending them crashing back into the shinobi who had launched them. Their expressions of shock were priceless in the brief moment before they were crushed under their own attack.

Through your connection to Obito, you sensed he had engaged the Tsuchikage directly. The old man's chakra was immense-dense and powerful like the mountains themselves. You felt Obito drawing heavily on your reserves, preparing to confront the legendary Particle Style. Despite the chaos surrounding you, you couldn't help but smile. Soon that incredible power would be yours to understand, to dissect, to add to your ever-growing collection.

The connection between you and Obito pulsed with power, and through it you could feel every time he phased through an attack - each instance sending a rush of euphoria through your system as your chakra instantly replenished his reserves. You grinned wildly as your vectors tore through another squad of rock shinobi, their blood painting abstract patterns across the mountainside.

"This feels amazing!" you called out, the sensation of your shared power making your skin tingle with pleasure. The continuous flow between you was intoxicating - like a perfect circuit of energy that grew stronger with each enemy Obito ghosted through, with each attack he launched. You wondered if he felt the same electric thrill coursing through him that you did.

You shifted your focus to the ground beneath an approaching squad, your vectors plunging deep into the rocky terrain. With a twist of your will, the earth buckled and rolled like a stormy sea, sending the ninja tumbling down the mountainside with cries of alarm. Earth-style users, masters of stable footing, suddenly finding themselves unable to stand - the irony wasn't lost on you as you laughed.

Through your connection, you sensed Obito engaging directly with Ōnoki now, the legendary Tsuchikage hovering above the battlefield. You immediately sent two additional vectors arcing through the air, one protecting Obito's flank from a flanking Anbu squad while the other stretched toward the diminutive Kage himself. The old man was faster than his appearance suggested, darting away from your vector with surprising agility despite his notorious back problems.

"Keep the perimeter clear!" Obito called back to you, his voice tight with concentration as he phased through another devastating attack from Ōnoki. Through your connection, you could feel him drawing heavily on your reserves, preparing something massive. His chakra signature changed, growing denser, more focused - he was preparing to unleash his full power against the Tsuchikage.

You spun in a deadly circle, your vectors creating a hemisphere of protection around your position while simultaneously lashing out at any shinobi foolish enough to approach. The battlefield had become a slaughterhouse, dismembered limbs and broken bodies littering the rocky outcropping. But your attention remained split - part focused on the immediate threats, part on the distant duel between Obito and Ōnoki, and part on that delicious feeling flowing through your connection. Each time Obito drew on your power, it felt like a drug hitting your system - a perfect blend of pain and pleasure that made you want to laugh and scream at once.

Your vectors exploded outward in a devastating wave, slicing through the approaching shinobi with effortless precision. Bodies dropped to the rocky ground in pieces, blood spraying across the cliff face in crimson patterns. Fifty men fell in an instant, then another fifty the next second, their techniques rendered useless against your overwhelming assault.

"Is that all you've got?" you called out mockingly as the bodies piled around you, creating a macabre barrier between you and the next wave of attackers. The mountain air grew thick with the metallic scent of blood, your vectors dancing through the carnage like elegant black ribbons through crimson rain.

Through your connection to Obito, you felt his surprise at your destructive capability. He phased through a massive boulder aimed at his head, his Sharingan tracking the Tsuchikage's movements as the diminutive old man hovered above the battlefield. "Focus on the left flank-they're preparing something!" he shouted, barely audible over the screams of dying ninja.

You pivoted immediately, vectors whipping toward a group of jonin forming synchronized hand signs. Their eyes widened in terror as your deadly tendrils tore through their formation, separating limbs from bodies with surgical precision. The corpses slumped to the ground, joining the growing mountain of the dead surrounding your position. "This is almost too easy!" you laughed, the exhilaration of battle sending waves of pleasure through your system.

You felt a sudden surge in your connection with Obito as he drew heavily on your power, preparing to confront Ōnoki directly. The old Tsuchikage's hands formed a triangular seal, and through Obito's Sharingan, you caught your first glimpse of the legendary Particle Style-a perfect cube of white light forming between the old man's palms. The raw power emanating from that simple geometric shape was unlike anything you'd felt before, and your vectors quivered with anticipation at the thought of adding such an ability to your collection.

The ground beneath your feet suddenly erupted as hidden rock ninja emerged from the earth itself, their hands already completing seals for a coordinated attack. Your vectors responded instantly, creating a whirlwind of death that reduced the ambushers to bloody fragments in seconds. "Nice try," you muttered as more bodies joined the grisly pile around you. Through your link with Obito, you could feel the battle between him and Ōnoki intensifying, the clash of their powers sending shockwaves across the mountainside.

"Oh shit!" you exclaimed as a massive cube of white energy barely missed Obito, disintegrating a section of the mountainside into nothing but dust. The raw destructive potential sent a thrill through your vectors-this was the ability you'd been hunting, the power to break down matter at its most fundamental level.

You noticed the rock shinobi keeping their distance from the death battle with Ōnoki. Instead, they focused their attacks entirely on you, dozens of earth-style users forming seals simultaneously as they prepared to unleash coordinated jutsu. They must have had a lot of faith in their leader, believing the ancient Tsuchikage could handle Obito without assistance. A smile curled across your lips-that was exactly what you wanted.

Your vectors lashed out in a deadly fan, intercepting a barrage of stone spears before they could reach you. The connection between you and Obito pulsed with power as he drew heavily on your reserves, phasing through another of Ōnoki's devastating attacks. You could feel the strain of maintaining both the connection and fighting off the endless waves of rock ninja, but the sensation was more exhilarating than exhausting.

"He's stronger than I anticipated!" Obito called back to you, his voice tight with concentration. Through your connection, you felt him preparing something massive-a technique that would require almost all of your shared chakra reserves. "Keep them off me for thirty more seconds!"

You laughed wildly as you unleashed your vectors in a devastating spiral, tearing through flesh and stone with equal ease. Blood rained down across the rocky outcropping as you carved through another wave of attackers. You could feel Obito's technique building to its climax, the massive drain on your reserves suggesting something truly catastrophic was about to unfold.

The mountainside trembled beneath your feet as Obito's power reached its peak. Through your connection, you felt the moment he unleashed it-a technique so powerful it warped space itself around the elderly Tsuchikage. Your vectors quivered with anticipation, ready to claim your prize as soon as Obito delivered the killing blow. The molecular disintegration ability would soon be yours to understand, to dissect, to own completely.

Chapter Text

You channeled your focus entirely into two tasks - maintaining a steady flood of chakra into Obito and unleashing hell upon the shinobi forces. The thirty-second countdown began in your mind as your vectors lashed out in all directions.

"Twenty-nine, twenty-eight..." you counted aloud, a manic grin splitting your face as your vectors tore through five shinobi simultaneously. The sensation of chakra flowing from you into Obito created a strange feedback loop - it drained and replenished instantly, like an ocean that could never run dry. Through your connection, you could feel his power building toward something catastrophic.

"Twenty-five, twenty-four..." A squad of earth-style users emerged from the rock face to your left. You didn't even spare them a glance as your vectors sliced through their bodies, separating limbs from torsos with surgical precision. Blood rained down across the rocky terrain, steaming slightly in the cool mountain air. The bodies fell with dull thuds, joining dozens of their fallen comrades.

Your feet felt strangely light on the ground, like you might float away if not for the vector anchoring you to Obito. The connection between you pulsed with power - his drawing from your seemingly infinite reserves while you maintained a perimeter of death around him. "Fifteen, fourteen..." you continued your countdown, voice eerily cheerful amid the carnage you were creating.

The Tsuchikage's voice carried across the battlefield, ancient and defiant. "You think you can challenge me in my own village? I've been protecting these mountains since before your parents were born!" You laughed wildly as your vectors impaled three more attackers through their chests, lifting their bodies high into the air before discarding them like broken toys. "Five, four..."

You felt Obito's power peak through your connection, a surge of chakra so intense it made your skin tingle. "Three, two, one... showtime!" You braced yourself as Obito unleashed the technique he'd been gathering strength for, his Sharingan spinning wildly as reality itself seemed to warp around the ancient Tsuchikage. The battle for Iwagakure was about to reach its bloody conclusion.

The air distorted as Obito's technique reached its devastating conclusion. You watched in fascination as the elderly Tsuchikage's body began to fragment, different parts disappearing into swirling vortexes as Obito's Kamui tore the legendary ninja apart across space and time. Arms, legs, torso-each vanished into different dimensional pockets, a brutal dismemberment that happened without a drop of blood spilled.

"Impossible-" The word died on the old man's lips as his body was systematically erased from reality, leaving only his head hovering momentarily in midair.

You leapt forward with supernatural speed, vectors propelling you across the battlefield. You caught Ōnoki's severed head before it could fall, your fingers gripping his white hair as his eyes widened in horror and recognition. The legendary Tsuchikage, destroyer of armies, reduced to nothing but a consciousness trapped in a severed head-your newest specimen.

"Should we make our escape now?" You jumped to Obito's side, cradling your gruesome prize while your vectors kept the remaining rock shinobi at bay. The surviving ninja were frozen in shock, their formations shattered by the sight of their leader dismembered across dimensions.

Obito's breathing was labored, his scarred face drenched in sweat despite the chakra you'd fed him. "Yes. They'll regroup quickly once the shock wears off." He grabbed your shoulder, his Sharingan spinning wildly as he prepared to transport you both back to the safety of his pocket dimension. The remaining rock shinobi were already beginning to advance, their faces twisted with rage and horror at what they'd just witnessed.

You grinned down at Ōnoki's head, his eyes still blinking in disbelief as consciousness rapidly faded. "Looking forward to our little study session, old man." Reality warped around you as Obito's technique activated, the battlefield dissolving into geometric patterns as you escaped with your prize-the legendary Particle Style soon to be added to your growing collection of abilities.

You landed on your feet on one of the floating cubes in the endless void, your footsteps making a single hollow sound that echoed strangely through the dimensional space. The severed head of the Tsuchikage was still clutched in your hand, his eyes now vacant and glassy. Blood dripped from the clean cut at his neck, forming perfect spherical droplets that floated away in the strange physics of Obito's dimension.

"High five?" You raised your free hand toward Obito, a playful grin spreading across your face despite the grisly trophy in your other hand. The invitation hung awkwardly between you, your bloodstained palm held aloft while Obito stared at you with a mixture of exhaustion and disbelief. When he ignored your outstretched hand, you shrugged. "No? Oh well."

You placed Onoki's head carefully on the cube's flat surface. His white hair was matted with blood and dust from the battle, his wrinkled face forever frozen in an expression of surprise. Your vectors emerged like surgical instruments, precise and deadly. The black tendrils formed a perfect circular cut around the crown of the old man's skull, removing the top of his head with surgical precision to expose the gray matter beneath.

The brain glistened in the strange, sourceless light of the dimension, pink-gray and still warm. You squatted over the head, your fingers sliding into the soft tissue with scientific curiosity. It was warm, wet, and smooth against your skin as you probed each fold and crevice. Your vectors assisted, separating layers of neural tissue as you searched methodically for the part that activated when the Tsuchikage used his molecular disintegration technique.

Deep within the temporal lobe, you found what you were looking for - a cluster of neurons arranged in a pattern you'd never seen before, still holding the echoes of enormous power. As your fingers made contact, a jolt of understanding flashed through your system, neural pathways in your own brain reconfiguring to accommodate the new ability. Images flooded your mind: molecules separating, matter breaking down to its fundamental components, perfect cubes of white energy that erased anything they touched from existence.

"Fascinating," you whispered, your eyes widening as the knowledge integrated itself into your consciousness. You could feel it now - the ability to create that perfect geometric destruction, to break down matter at its most basic level. Your vectors vibrated with excitement, already attuned to this new power you'd claimed. Behind you, Obito watched in silence, his Sharingan tracking the movement of your vectors as they danced around your blood-covered fingers.

You wiped your bloody fingers on your clothes, making a face as you realized how truly filthy you'd become during the battle. The metallic smell of blood filled the dimensional void, mingling with the strange non-scent of Obito's pocket dimension. The Tsuchikage's lifeless eyes stared up at the geometric nothingness above, his face forever frozen in that final moment of shock.

"When you're done resting... we should probably dispose of this before it starts stinking... and maybe find a place to clean up. We both look like crap." You stood up and stretched, your joints popping satisfyingly after the intense focus of ability extraction. Your clothes were stiff with drying blood, and your skin felt tacky where it had splashed across your face and arms.

Obito remained motionless for several moments, his breathing still labored from the massive chakra expenditure despite your support during the battle. "There's no need to dispose of anything here," he finally said, gesturing vaguely at the dimensional void around you. "Objects without a living connection to this space eventually fade away. As for cleaning up..." He looked down at his own blood-spattered cloak, seeming to truly register their disheveled state for the first time.

You ran your fingers through your hair, grimacing when they caught in blood-matted tangles. "I need a shower, like, yesterday. Can't exactly stroll into a village looking like serial killers, can we? Well, I mean, we could... but it might complicate things." Your vectors swirled restlessly around you, occasionally prodding at the discarded skull as if ensuring the knowledge extraction was complete.

Obito pushed himself to his feet, his movements betraying a rare weariness. "I know a place. A safehouse near the Land of Hot Springs with natural thermal waters. It's isolated... secure." He paused, something almost like hesitation crossing his scarred features. "We should recover our strength before pursuing the next target anyway. The other villages will be on high alert once news of the Tsuchikage's death spreads."

You grinned broadly, already excited at the prospect of hot springs after the bloody work of the day. "Now you're talking! Lead the way, partner." You kicked the Tsuchikage's head lightly with your foot, watching with fascination as it rolled across the cubic surface before stopping at the edge. The particle style ability hummed pleasantly in your mind, ready to be tested once you reached the real world again. You stepped toward Obito, prepared for the disorienting transition back to reality and whatever comforts awaited at this safehouse of his.

"I can't wait to soak in some hot water," you sighed happily as the dimensional void began to warp around you. The prospect of washing away the blood and grime from battle had never sounded so appealing.

Reality twisted and stretched, your stomach lurching as Obito's Kamui transported you both through space. You could almost feel it now - the delicious heat of thermal springs enveloping your battle-weary body, washing away the dried blood that caked your skin and clothes.

You emerged on a forested hillside, the evening air heavy with moisture and the faint scent of sulfur. The transition left you momentarily disoriented, but your vectors automatically extended to steady you. Below, nestled in a small valley between two sloping hills, sat a modest wooden structure with steam rising from behind it.

"We should remain cautious," Obito warned, his mismatched eyes scanning the area. "This location is secure, but news travels fast in the shinobi world. The death of two Kage will not go unnoticed." Despite his words, his posture had relaxed slightly, the immediate danger passed.

You stretched your arms above your head, vectors simultaneously extending outward to probe the surroundings. The safehouse appeared exactly as Obito had described - isolated and secure. No chakra signatures registered within your detection range except for local wildlife. "All clear from what I can sense. Now, point me toward those hot springs before I start peeling this crusty blood off in chunks."

Obito led you down a narrow path, dried leaves crunching beneath your feet. "The springs are divided by a bamboo screen," he explained, keeping his gaze fixed ahead. "The building contains supplies, food, and clean clothing. We should rest here for no more than one night." Even now, after your shared victory, his voice remained guarded, controlled - a stark contrast to your barely contained excitement at the prospect of hot, cleansing water.

As soon as the hot springs came into view, you stopped in your tracks, the sight of the steaming water too tempting to resist. Without a single word or moment of hesitation, you began peeling off your blood-encrusted clothing, dropping each filthy garment onto the ground with satisfying thuds.

Obito stopped abruptly, his mismatched eyes widening slightly at your casual disrobing. "What are you-" He turned away sharply, his scarred face tightening with discomfort. "There's a changing area inside."

You ignored him completely, too focused on the prospect of clean skin to care about his prudish reaction. The last stiff, blood-soaked piece of clothing fell away, leaving you naked in the cool evening air. You stepped into the steaming water, your vectors coiling lazily around you like pleased serpents.

"Oh god, this feels amazing," you moaned as you sank deeper into the spring, submerging your body up to your neck. The hot water immediately began dissolving the crusted blood and battle grime, turning the area around you slightly pink. Your muscles relaxed for what felt like the first time in days, the heat penetrating deep into tissue that had been tense with combat readiness.

Obito remained at the edge of the clearing, his back still turned rigidly away from you. You could practically feel the discomfort radiating from him in waves, making your lips curl into an amused smile. "I'll... check the perimeter," he muttered before disappearing into the trees, clearly seeking escape from the awkward situation.

You leaned back against a smooth rock, letting your head rest on its warm surface as the water lapped gently around your body. The newly acquired particle style ability hummed pleasantly in your mind, waiting to be tested. But for now, you were content to simply exist in this moment of profound relief, your vectors spreading lazily through the water around you like inky tendrils enjoying the warmth alongside you.

Chapter Text

After several minutes of just soaking, you lifted your arm from the water, wrinkling your nose at the sight of blood still clinging to your skin in darkened patches. The heat had softened the crusted gore, turning it from flaky scabs to a tacky film that begged to be removed.

You began scratching at your skin methodically, using your short nails to scrape away the remnants of the day's carnage. Under your persistent fingers, flakes of rust-colored debris separated from your flesh, dissolving into the water or floating away on the surface in tiny crimson islands. The process was oddly satisfying - watching each streak of blood disappear to reveal clean skin beneath.

You dunked your head under the water, staying submerged for several long seconds before emerging with a splash. Water cascaded down your face as you ran your fingers through your tangled hair, grimacing as they caught in blood-matted clumps. The once-hardened blood had softened in the hot spring, making it slightly easier to work through the mess, but still a challenge. You worked methodically section by section, detangling and cleaning until your scalp tingled from the attention.

"Much better," you murmured to yourself, flicking a particularly stubborn blood clot from your fingernails into the water. Your vectors assisted in the cleaning process, reaching places your hands couldn't, gently scrubbing your back and other difficult areas. The pink tinge spreading through the water around you was both disturbing and satisfying - visual evidence of just how filthy you'd been.

The sound of footsteps approaching broke through the peaceful atmosphere. You glanced up lazily to see Obito returning from his perimeter check, his gaze carefully fixed on the treeline rather than the spring where you soaked. "The area is secure," he reported stiffly, still refusing to look in your direction. "No signs of pursuit or surveillance. We should be safe here for the night."

You stretched languorously in the water, your vectors swirling around you in similarly relaxed patterns. "Great! Why don't you join me? The water's perfect, and you look like you could use a good soak too." The invitation hung in the steam-filled air between you, your casual nakedness clearly making the stoic ninja profoundly uncomfortable - which only made teasing him more entertaining.

"We could have a water fight. Bet I'll win," you called out, splashing the water playfully with your vectors. The droplets caught the fading sunlight, creating tiny rainbows that vanished almost instantly. Your playfulness contrasted sharply with Obito's rigid discomfort, making the situation all the more amusing.

Obito shifted uncomfortably, still stubbornly keeping his gaze fixed on the treeline. "This isn't the time for games," he muttered, though his voice lacked its usual conviction. The exhaustion from your battle was evident in the slight slump of his shoulders, the way his normally perfect posture had given way to something almost human.

You kicked your feet through the water, sending a spray of droplets arcing toward him. They fell just short, darkening the ground near his feet. "All work and no play makes Obito a dull Uchiha," you teased. Your vectors dipped lazily through the water, creating gentle ripples that expanded outward in perfect circles. "Besides, don't you need to wash all that blood off? You're practically crusted with it."

He finally turned to face you, his mismatched eyes carefully fixed on your face rather than your submerged body. The scarred side of his face twitched slightly, betraying his internal conflict. "There's another spring on the other side of the screen," he said pointedly, nodding toward the bamboo divider that separated the two halves of the hot spring.

With a gesture of your hand, one of your vectors shot out and splashed a significant amount of water directly at him. The water struck his chest, soaking the front of his already blood-crusted cloak. "Oops," you said with exaggerated innocence, your eyes widening in mock surprise. "Looks like you'll have to clean up now."

Obito stared down at his soaked clothing, water dripping from the fabric as his expression shifted from surprise to something unreadable. For a tense moment, nothing happened. Then, in a movement so quick it was almost invisible, he scooped up a handful of water from the edge of the spring and sent it flying toward your face. "You want a fight?" he asked quietly, a dangerous edge in his voice that was undermined by the faintest twitch at the corner of his mouth. "Don't start something you can't finish."

"Ooh, I'm shaking in my boots. I'm not worried," you laughed as the water droplets splashed across your face. Your vectors rose from the steaming water like playful serpents, each one gathering a small wave before sending it crashing toward Obito. His reflexes were impressive-he phased through most of the water, but deliberately allowed some to hit him.

You sank deeper into the hot spring, leaving just your head above the surface as your vectors continued their aquatic assault. The scarred ninja finally seemed to be loosening up, his usual intensity giving way to something almost resembling playfulness. "So the great Obito Uchiha does know how to have fun. I was beginning to wonder."

Obito hesitated for a moment before removing his soaked outer cloak. His movements were stiff, almost mechanical, as if remembering a physical ritual he hadn't performed in years. "This isn't fun. It's tactical practice," he claimed, though the slight upward curl of his lips betrayed him. With surprising grace, he slipped into the other side of the hot spring, still keeping the bamboo divider between you.

The steam rose in thick clouds around you both, creating a dreamlike atmosphere in the fading evening light. You could see Obito's silhouette through gaps in the bamboo screen, his scarred body gradually relaxing as the hot water worked its magic on battle-weary muscles. Even through the partition, you could sense the change in him-the rigid control slipping just a fraction, allowing something almost human to emerge.

Your vectors danced lazily across the surface of the water, occasionally sending small splashes over the divider just to remind him you were there. "You know, for someone who wants to destroy the world, you're not terrible company," you said, stretching your arms above your head. The hot water had worked wonders on your body, washing away not just the blood but the tension of battle.

Obito remained silent for a long moment, the only sound the gentle lapping of water against stone. "I don't want to destroy it," he finally said, his voice softer than you'd ever heard it. "I want to remake it. Create a world without suffering, without loss. A perfect illusion where everyone can have what they truly desire." There was something raw in his tone-a vulnerability he'd never shown before, as if the steam had somehow penetrated the armor around his heart.

"Hey. It's not fair you're using kamui. Cheater," you called out as you noticed him phasing through another splash. The water passed harmlessly through his body, the droplets rejoining the hot spring without ever touching him. His ability to become intangible gave him an unfair advantage in your impromptu water fight.

You grinned mischievously, your vectors stirring beneath the surface of the steaming water. With a subtle gesture, you activated your water bending ability, feeling the liquid respond to your will like an extension of your body. The hot spring around Obito suddenly surged upward, forming a perfect dome that completely enveloped him in steaming water.

"I cheat too," you laughed as the water swirled violently around his surprised form. For a moment, you caught a glimpse of genuine shock on his scarred face before the water closed completely around him. The bamboo divider between you creaked and bent under the pressure of your manipulated water, threatening to snap entirely.

Obito burst from your water prison with a gasp, his usually perfect hair plastered to his head, water streaming down his scarred chest. His Sharingan spun wildly as he fixed you with a look that might have been intimidating if not for the dripping wet state of him. "That was..." he started, then stopped, seemingly at a loss for words.

You sank deeper into the hot spring, letting the water reach your chin as you watched him with amused eyes. The evening air around you grew thick with steam, creating a dreamy, otherworldly atmosphere between you. Your vectors danced playfully on the water's surface, ready to defend or attack depending on how the scarred shinobi decided to respond to your aquatic ambush.

To your surprise, a sound escaped Obito's lips that you'd never heard before-a short, rusty laugh that seemed to surprise even him. "I see," he said, running a hand through his soaking wet hair. "So this is how inter-dimensional beings play." The tension between you shifted into something different, something almost companionable as you both floated in the steaming water under the darkening sky.

The steam created a dreamlike haze between your bodies, soft light from the setting sun filtering through the mist. You swam to the edge of the bamboo divider, peering through the gaps at Obito's scarred form.

"Come in, Obito," you called softly, your voice carrying over the gentle sound of bubbling water. The invitation hung in the space between you, weighted with something neither of you had acknowledged.

You patted the water beside you, vectors swirling lazily around your submerged body like curious sea creatures. "Or do I have to set the mood?" Your eyes gleamed mischievously in the fading light, a challenge beneath the playfulness.

Without waiting for his response, you extended your hand over the water's surface, calling upon your water bending ability. The hot spring's steam suddenly thickened into an impenetrable fog, obscuring everything in a white cloud that enveloped the entire bathing area. Obito's silhouette disappeared completely behind the dense mist.

You pulled the fog back toward you in a swift, fluid motion, the water vapor gathering around your body before transforming. With a delicate twist of your fingers, you dispersed it outward again, but now as dozens of perfect, crystalline snowflakes that fell gently around the springs. They sparkled in the last rays of sunlight, creating an impossible winter scene amidst the steaming water.

"I like showing off," you admitted with a small smirk, watching Obito's expression shift from wariness to something resembling genuine wonder as a snowflake landed on his outstretched palm, perfectly formed before melting against his skin. Through the gaps in the bamboo, his mismatched eyes met yours, something unspoken passing between you in the strange beauty of the moment.

"You shy?" You called out playfully, your voice echoing across the steaming water. The question hung between you like the snowflakes still drifting lazily through the air, beautiful yet ephemeral.

You sank deeper into the water, submerging your body until only your eyes and the top of your head remained visible. The hot spring embraced you like a lover, water lapping gently against your chin as you watched Obito through the gaps in the bamboo screen. Your eyes gleamed with mischievous intent, vectors swirling beneath the surface like predators circling prey.

Obito shifted uncomfortably on his side of the divider, water sloshing around his scarred torso. His mismatched eyes narrowed slightly, clearly noting your provocative posture despite his attempt at maintaining his composure. "This isn't appropriate," he muttered, but made no move to leave the spring or turn away.

A smile curled beneath the water's surface, hidden from view but evident in the crinkle of your eyes. Bubbles rose from your submerged mouth, breaking the surface with tiny pops that seemed to punctuate the charged silence between you. The steam had grown thicker, casting everything in a dreamlike haze that softened the hard edges of reality-much like the boundaries between you and the scarred ninja were beginning to blur.

You rose slightly from the water, just enough for your lips to emerge. "Didn't anyone ever tell you? Nothing appropriate ever happens in hot springs." You glided forward through the water, moving closer to the bamboo divider. Your vectors preceded you, sliding through the gaps like curious fingers, testing the barrier between you.

Obito watched your approach with an intensity that belied his feigned indifference. His Sharingan spun slowly, almost hypnotically, as if trying to predict your next move in this strange game neither of you had acknowledged starting. "You're playing with fire," he warned softly, though whether he was cautioning you or himself remained unclear. The water rippled around him as he too moved closer to the divider, drawn by some force he seemed reluctant to name.

Chapter Text

"Are you scared to get burned?" You leaned against the bamboo divider, your voice a low purr that seemed to vibrate through the steaming water between you. The barrier creaked slightly under your weight, thin and fragile like the restraint holding you both back.

Your hormones were getting the best of you. The adrenaline from battle, the intimate setting of the hot springs, the way Obito's scarred body glistened in the fading light-it all combined into a pulsing need that overrode common sense. You really didn't care if it was appropriate or not. You enjoyed having a good time... even at the expense of others.

You pressed harder against the bamboo screen, feeling it bend dangerously under your weight. Through the gaps, you could see Obito's mismatched eyes widen slightly, his body tensing as he realized your intention seconds before it happened. With a sharp crack, the divider gave way, sending you splashing into his side of the hot spring with a victorious laugh.

Obito moved back instinctively, water sloshing around his scarred torso as he created distance between you. His Sharingan spun faster, a warning sign like the bright colors of a venomous creature. "This isn't a game, Raven," he said, voice tight with something that wasn't quite anger. "We're allies of convenience, nothing more."

You floated closer despite his warning, your naked body gliding through the steaming water with predatory grace. Your vectors swirled around you both now, creating gentle currents that pushed you inexorably toward him. "Allies can't have fun?" Your hand brushed against his knee beneath the water, feeling the interesting texture where artificial Hashirama cells met his original flesh. "Besides, I've seen how you look at me when you think I'm not paying attention."

Obito's jaw tightened, but he didn't move away this time, caught between conflicting desires that played across his face like shadows. The steam rose between you, caressing your skin like invisible fingers as the tension thickened. For all his talk of remaking the world, recreating reality itself, he seemed completely unprepared for the simple reality of your body so close to his. Your vectors coiled around his wrist beneath the water, not restraining, merely suggesting. The choice was still his, but you'd made your intentions crystal clear.

"I promise not to make it a habit," you said with a playful smile, drawing closer in the steaming water. The heat had turned your skin a delicate pink, droplets running down your collarbone and disappearing beneath the surface. Your vectors remained loosely wrapped around his wrist, neither constraining nor directing, simply connecting.

Your hand caught his jaw, fingers gentle but insistent as you tilted his face toward yours. His scars felt different under your touch-textured ridges mapping a history of pain across his skin. "Your scars," you murmured, studying the damaged tissue with genuine fascination rather than disgust or pity. They made him uniquely attractive, telling a story of survival that ordinary beauty never could.

Obito remained perfectly still under your touch, his mismatched eyes studying your face with an intensity that would have been unnerving from anyone else. "What are you doing?" he asked quietly, his voice barely audible over the gentle bubbling of the hot spring. Despite his words, he made no attempt to pull away, his body betraying what his voice tried to deny.

You traced the edge of a particularly deep scar that ran from his temple to his jaw, your touch featherlight against the sensitive tissue. "Exploring," you answered simply. The steam swirled between you, creating a private world where only the two of you existed-killers finding an unexpected moment of connection in the midst of bloodshed and chaos.

"And when you're done exploring?" he asked, his scarred hand finally rising to cover yours. The contact sent a small jolt through your system-his skin surprisingly warm against yours. "What happens then? Is this just another ability you want to... study?" There was something vulnerable in the question, hidden beneath layers of practiced indifference.

You smiled enigmatically, letting your thumb brush across his bottom lip. "Maybe," you whispered, your vectors coiling more tightly around his wrist as you leaned forward, closing the last few inches between you. The water rippled around your bodies, steam rising to obscure you both from the world outside this moment of unexpected intimacy.

"I like you, Obito," you purred, the words slipping out between your parted lips. The playful lilt in your voice couldn't quite mask the genuine sentiment behind them. Steam curled around your faces, creating an intimate pocket within the already secluded hot spring.

You studied his scarred face, fascinated by the contradictions embodied in the man before you. "It sounds like I'm teasing, but I'm serious. You're an enigma - mysterious, calculating, brutal and cold." Your fingers traced the ridge where artificial tissue met his natural skin, the unique texture sending pleasant tingles through your fingertips. "Yet I see these glimpses of peace in you. And the warmth of your skin betrays that coldness you try so hard to project."

Obito's mismatched eyes widened slightly, his composure cracking just enough to reveal genuine surprise. He remained motionless under your touch, as if any movement might shatter this strange moment between killers. "You don't know what you're talking about," he finally murmured, but his body betrayed him - he leaned almost imperceptibly into your touch, starved for connection he wouldn't admit to craving.

Your vectors swirled lazily around both your bodies beneath the water, creating gentle currents that pushed you closer together. The heat had turned your skin flushed and sensitive, every point of near-contact between you charged with electric possibility. Through your connection, you could sense the conflict raging within him - desire warring against purpose, loneliness fighting discipline.

"This changes nothing," Obito whispered, even as his scarred hand rose to cup your cheek, the touch hesitant as if he'd forgotten how simple human contact worked. The calluses on his palm scraped deliciously against your skin. "Tomorrow we continue as planned. The Raikage will fall next."

You smiled against his palm, enjoying how his breathing quickened when you turned your head to press your lips against his wrist. The pulse there jumped beneath your mouth, betraying what his words tried to deny. "Of course," you agreed with mock seriousness. "Business first. But tonight..." Your hand slid beneath the water to rest on his thigh, feeling the interesting contrast between human flesh and Hashirama cells. "Tonight we can pretend we're just two people enjoying a hot spring, not two monsters planning to reshape the world."

A charged silence followed your words, broken only by the gentle bubbling of the hot spring and the soft sound of water lapping against skin. You leaned closer to Obito, your eyes locked with his mismatched pair. His breathing had grown shallow, the rise and fall of his scarred chest quickening as the distance between you diminished.

"You're playing a dangerous game," he whispered, but made no move to create distance between you. His Sharingan spun lazily, hypnotically, reflecting the steam rising from the water's surface.

You smiled, closing the final inches between you. "I've never been afraid of danger." Your lips pressed against his, feeling the strange textural contrast where smooth skin met scarred tissue. The small crack at the boundary felt oddly intimate beneath your mouth, a physical manifestation of his divided self. One side smooth and whole, the other strange and damaged - yet you found both equally fascinating.

He froze at the contact, his body going rigid with surprise. For one breathless moment, you thought he might push you away or phase through your touch entirely. Then his scarred hand rose to cup the back of your neck, hesitant at first, then with growing confidence as he returned the kiss. There was an almost desperate quality to the way his mouth moved against yours, like a man who'd forgotten what human connection felt like suddenly remembering all at once.

Your vectors swirled around you both beneath the water, creating gentle currents that pushed your bodies closer together. The heat of the spring paled in comparison to the warmth building between you, a different kind of tension than the deadly variety you usually shared on the battlefield. Obito's other hand found your waist, his fingers tracing the curve of your hip with cautious exploration.

"This changes nothing," he murmured against your lips, though the tremor in his voice suggested otherwise. His forehead came to rest against yours, your breaths mingling in the small space between you. "Tomorrow, we continue as planned." Yet even as he spoke, his fingers tangled in your hair, holding you close as if afraid you might disappear if he let go.

Chapter Text

"You're the boss," you agreed breathlessly, your vectors rippling with excitement beneath the water's surface. The steam rose around you both, creating a private world where only the two of you existed. You pulled him back into a kiss, more confident this time as your lips pressed against his scarred mouth.

You shifted your body forward, the water creating gentle resistance as you brought yourself into his lap. Your thighs straddled his hips beneath the steaming water, bodies pressed flush against each other in delicious contact. The contrast between his skin textures fascinated you - smooth human flesh on one side, the strange roughness of Hashirama cells on the other.

Obito inhaled sharply, his hands finding your waist to steady you in your new position. "This is...unexpected," he murmured against your lips, his voice rough with an emotion you couldn't quite name. His mismatched eyes studied your face with burning intensity, as if memorizing every detail.

You rolled your hips experimentally, feeling his body's immediate response beneath you. His fingers tightened on your waist, the pressure just shy of painful in a way that sent shivers down your spine. For all his talk of illusions and perfect worlds, there was nothing illusory about the way his body reacted to yours - raw and honest in a way his words rarely were.

Your vectors coiled around both your bodies, creating a cocoon of gentle pressure that pushed you even closer together. The connection between you deepened as one of his hands slid up your back, fingers tracing the curve of your spine with surprising tenderness. For a man whose hands had ended countless lives, his touch carried an unexpected gentleness that made your skin tingle.

You broke the kiss to study his face, fascinated by the conflict playing across his features - desire warring with purpose, the human struggling against the monster he'd made himself become. "This changes everything," he whispered, contradicting his earlier statement, and you smiled against his lips as he pulled you back in, surrendering to the moment as the hot spring water lapped gently around your entwined bodies.

The heat between you intensified as your hand slid beneath the water, fingers finding and lacing around his erection. His hardness surprised you - the contrast between his hesitant words and his body's unmistakable response was delicious. You felt his muscles flex and tighten beneath you as your fingers began a gentle, exploratory stroke.

His breath caught sharply, his mismatched eyes widening at your boldness. The scarred side of his face twitched slightly as you established a rhythm, your fingers working him with deliberate precision. Steam curled around your faces, creating an intimate cocoon in the already secluded hot spring.

You leaned forward, your predatory desires impossible to disguise. The water lapped gently between your bodies as you caught his bottom lip between your teeth, applying just enough pressure to feel him tense beneath you. His hands gripped your waist tighter, fingers digging into your flesh in a way that sent shivers down your spine.

"Will you let me?" you whispered against his mouth, your voice low and thick with desire. Your vectors coiled lazily around his thighs beneath the water, not restraining, merely suggesting. You continued stroking him, your pace deliberately slow as you waited for his answer, enjoying the power of this moment - the fearsome Obito Uchiha, architect of chaos, undone by your touch.

Obito's breathing had grown ragged, his control visibly slipping with each stroke of your hand. The legendary shinobi trembled beneath you, caught between desire and the last vestiges of his carefully constructed walls. "Yes," he finally growled, the single word sounding as though it had been torn from somewhere deep within him. "But remember-this is temporary. A moment stolen from fate."

You smiled against his scarred cheek, your free hand tangling in his wet hair as you pulled his head back to expose his neck. "I'll take what I can get," you murmured against his skin, your teeth grazing the sensitive spot where his pulse hammered wildly. The contrast between the cold night air above the water and the heat below created a delicious sensory experience as your bodies pressed together in the steaming spring, the outside world forgotten in this moment of unexpected connection.

You shifted your position, water rippling around your bodies as you aligned yourself perfectly above him. Your eyes locked with his mismatched pair, witnessing the raw hunger that had replaced his usual calculating coldness.

You sank down onto his aching length with deliberate slowness, a soft sigh of relief escaping your lips as you enveloped him completely. The sensation was exquisite - your body stretching to accommodate him as the hot water swirled around your joined forms. "Finally," you breathed against his lips, your vectors coiling with pleasure beneath the water.

Your hips began a sensual rolling motion, finding a rhythm that made his breath catch. The water amplified each movement, creating gentle waves that lapped against the edges of the spring. You buried one hand in his thick black hair, gripping tightly as you claimed his mouth in a series of deep, demanding kisses. Each connection of your lips felt like a battle, neither willing to surrender control completely.

Obito groaned against your mouth, his scarred hands finding purchase on your hips. His fingers dug into your flesh with bruising intensity, guiding your movements to match his upward thrusts. "This changes nothing," he insisted breathlessly, even as his body betrayed his words. The contradiction between what he said and how desperately he clung to you only intensified your satisfaction.

You broke the kiss to study his face, fascinated by how pleasure transformed his usually guarded features. His scars seemed less harsh in the golden light of sunset, his mismatched eyes hazed with desire rather than calculation. "Keep telling yourself that," you whispered, rolling your hips more insistently. The water bubbled and churned around your joined bodies, steam rising to obscure you both from the world.

Your vectors wrapped around his wrists and thighs beneath the water, adding another layer of sensation as you maintained your steady rhythm. Through this connection, you could feel his pleasure building alongside your own, a feedback loop of sensation that made your skin tingle with electricity. "Just enjoy the moment, Obito," you murmured against his ear, nipping at the sensitive skin below it. "Tomorrow we can go back to reshaping the world."

Your movements grew more desperate against him, the water churning around your joined bodies as your pace quickened. The steam created a dreamlike haze, turning Obito's scarred face ethereal in the fading light. Your lips found his ear, teeth nipping and grazing along the sensitive shell. His breath hitched, hands tightening on your hips hard enough to bruise.

You lifted slightly away from his face, studying the rare vulnerability in his expression. His usual mask of cold calculation had crumbled completely, replaced by something raw and almost human. His mismatched eyes were half-lidded, lips parted as shallow breaths escaped between them. You smiled knowingly before lowering your mouth back to his ear, your vectors tightening their grip on his wrists beneath the water.

"You look so good like this," you whispered, your voice a sensual purr that made him shudder beneath you. Your hips maintained their relentless rhythm, each downward motion sending ripples across the steaming water. The contrast between the hot spring and the cool night air created goosebumps across your exposed skin above the waterline.

"Let go of all your inhibitions," you urged, your lips trailing along the sharp line of his jaw. You could feel him struggling with the last remnants of his control, his body fighting against years of rigid discipline. Your vectors coiled more tightly around him, pulling an involuntary groan from deep in his chest as you increased your pace.

You began chasing your own release with single-minded determination, your movements growing erratic as pleasure built to an unbearable peak. Obito's hands guided your frantic rhythm, his own control finally shattering as he thrust upward to meet each of your downward motions. "Raven," he gasped, your name sounding like both a prayer and a curse on his lips.

You finally crashed down on him one last time, your back arching as intense waves of pleasure radiated through your body. Your release washed over him before diluting into the hot spring water that surrounded you both. Through your connection, you felt Obito follow you over the edge, his body tensing beneath yours as he surrendered completely to the moment. "This changes everything," he admitted breathlessly, his forehead coming to rest against yours as the last aftershocks of pleasure rippled through your joined bodies.

"Mmm," you hummed softly against his skin, your body still trembling as waves of pleasure gradually subsided. The water lapped gently around your joined bodies, steam rising to envelop you both in a dreamlike haze as you continued to move slowly against him.

Your movements became languid and tender as you melted into his lap, the frantic desperation of moments before giving way to something unexpectedly intimate. The heat of the spring had nothing on the warmth radiating between your bodies as you gazed up at his face, studying the rare vulnerability etched across his scarred features. His usual mask of cold calculation had vanished completely, replaced by something raw and almost human that made your chest tighten with an unfamiliar emotion.

You leaned forward and pressed your lips to his, the kiss different from the hungry ones you'd shared before - softer, almost reverent. His scarred hand came up to cup your cheek, the rough texture of his palm sending pleasant shivers down your spine as his thumb traced gentle circles against your skin. Through your connection, you could sense his conflicted emotions - desire, confusion, and something dangerously close to tenderness swirling together in a chaotic blend.

A strange sense of relief washed over you as you cradled his face between your hands, your vectors coiling lazily around his body beneath the water. You'd seen the darkness in him - the cold, calculating monster who planned to reshape reality itself - and you'd recognized a kindred spirit. But this moment had revealed something else, something human buried beneath layers of trauma and hatred, and it fascinated you just as much as his power had.

You broke the kiss to rest your forehead against his, your breathing syncing with his in the small space between you. The knowledge that this might be the first and last time hung heavily in the air - tomorrow would bring a return to your mission, to the cold efficiency of your partnership. The Eye of the Moon plan wouldn't wait for romantic entanglements, and Obito wouldn't allow himself this vulnerability again. You traced the line where normal skin met scar tissue, memorizing the unique texture under your fingertips.

"We should get some rest," Obito finally murmured, though he made no move to disentangle himself from you. His mismatched eyes studied your face with an intensity that belied his casual tone, as if he too was committing this moment to memory. You nodded against him, savoring these final moments of connection before reality reasserted itself. The water continued to bubble gently around you, washing away the evidence of your coupling as the stars emerged overhead, indifferent witnesses to the momentary truce between two monsters.

You reluctantly moved back, sliding away from his body with a small sigh. The water between you seemed colder somehow, despite the spring's consistent heat. Neither of you spoke as you made your way to opposite edges of the broken pool, the weight of what had just happened hanging in the steam-filled air.

You climbed out of the hot spring, water cascading down your naked form. Night had fully fallen, the air cool against your wet skin as you grabbed a cloth from near the edge to dry yourself. Obito emerged from the water as well, his scarred body glistening in the moonlight. The silence between you grew heavier with each passing moment, filled with all the things you wanted to say but couldn't find the words for.

"I promised not to make it a habit," you finally said, your voice sounding unnaturally loud in the quiet night. A lie. You were already yearning for a second round, your body still humming with residual pleasure and the memory of his touch. You turned away to hide the hunger in your eyes, busying yourself with the stack of clean clothes Obito had mentioned earlier.

"It's better this way," he responded, his voice betraying no emotion. He dressed quickly, efficiently, each movement precise as if trying to reassemble the cold, calculating persona that had momentarily cracked during your encounter in the spring. You watched him from the corner of your eye, noting how the vulnerability had vanished from his face, replaced once more by the mask of indifference he wore so well.

You pulled on the clean clothes, the soft fabric clinging to your slightly damp skin like a warm blanket. Though simple - just loose pants and a tunic - they provided a comforting barrier between you and the world, between you and Obito. You followed him silently into the wooden safehouse, your vectors swirling restlessly around you, reflecting the turmoil you refused to show on your face.

Inside, the safehouse was sparse but functional - a small hearth with embers still glowing, two simple futons laid out on opposite sides of the room. You settled onto one of them, watching as Obito busied himself checking the perimeter seals. The distance between you had never felt greater, despite being just moments ago as close as two people could be. You hugged your knees to your chest, thinking of all the things left unsaid between two monsters playing at being human for one brief, stolen moment.

Chapter Text

The silence in the safehouse grew heavy, broken only by the occasional pop from the dying embers in the hearth. You watched Obito through half-lidded eyes as he circled the small space, checking seals and entry points with methodical precision. His movements were fluid yet tense, like a predator unable to fully relax even in a secure den.

You broke the oppressive silence, your voice cutting through the stillness like a kunai through silk. "Tell me about the next target?" The question hung between you, an offering of sorts - a return to the comfortable territory of shared bloodshed rather than the complicated aftermath of what had happened in the springs.

Obito paused mid-step, his scarred profile illuminated by the faint orange glow of the embers. He turned toward you slowly, his mismatched eyes studying your face with renewed calculation. "The Raikage," he said finally, moving to sit cross-legged on his futon across from you. "A lightning god in human form. Faster than any shinobi alive, with a body that can withstand almost any attack."

You leaned forward with interest, your vectors swirling lazily around you like curious serpents. The thought of claiming such power made your skin tingle with anticipation. "Sounds like a challenge. I like challenges." Your lips curved into a predatory smile, already imagining the lightning abilities coursing through your vectors. "What's our approach? The same divide and conquer technique we used on the Tsuchikage?"

"No," Obito shook his head, reaching into his cloak to retrieve a small scroll which he unrolled between you. A detailed map of Kumogakure appeared, intricate lines showing entry points and patrol routes. "The Raikage is too fast for that strategy. We'll need something more... creative. Your new particle style might prove useful as a distraction while I position for the kill." His finger traced a path up the mountainside, stopping at a marked training ground. "He trains here alone at dawn. That's our window."

You cocked your head to one side, studying both the map and Obito with equal interest. There was something almost comfortable about this - planning death together after sharing pleasure. Your vectors reached out to touch the map, tracing alternative routes as you considered the challenge ahead. "Dawn it is, then," you agreed, stretching your arms above your head. The clean clothes felt strange against your skin after being so thoroughly blood-soaked earlier. "Though I'm calling dibs on his brain. That speed could be useful." The casual brutality of your words contrasted with the almost domestic scene - two killers planning tomorrow's bloodshed from the comfort of futons, like others might plan a picnic.

"Shouldn't they be expecting us though? We already killed two kage in their own turf.... how likely is it for him to continue the same schedule? How fast does word travel in the shinobi world?" You glanced up at Obito, your brow furrowing. The practical concern had suddenly struck you as you studied the map between you.

Obito's mismatched eyes flicked up to meet yours, his scarred face illuminated by the dying embers. "Fast, but not instantaneous," he replied, his finger tapping thoughtfully on the map. "It's been less than twelve hours since we eliminated the Tsuchikage. The other villages will have suspicions, but confirmation will take time. Especially with how cleanly we extracted ourselves."

You nodded slowly, not entirely convinced. Your vectors coiled restlessly around you, reflecting your unease. The idea of walking into a trap didn't bother you much - you'd survived worse - but something about Obito's confidence seemed almost reckless. "And you're sure the Raikage is that predictable? Seems like a weakness for someone supposedly so powerful." Your fingers idly traced the mountain path on the map, imagining the approach.

"Pride is often the greatest weakness of the powerful," Obito said, a hint of bitterness coloring his tone. "A is convinced of his own invincibility. Even if word has reached Kumogakure, he won't alter his routine - to do so would be to admit fear." He leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping to an intense whisper. "Besides, we have the element of surprise. No one knows what you are, what you can do. That's our true advantage."

You considered his words, a slow smile spreading across your face. He wasn't wrong - your abilities were unlike anything this world had seen. Even Obito, for all his power and knowledge, couldn't fully comprehend the extent of what you could do. You stretched out on the futon, your tired muscles aching pleasantly from the day's exertions. The hot spring had helped, but your body still carried the fatigue of battle - and other, more recent activities.

"Fair enough," you conceded with a lazy yawn. "Dawn it is. Just don't blame me if we find a welcoming committee." You turned onto your side, facing away from Obito as you settled into the thin futon. Despite your casual posture, your senses remained alert, vectors extending unseen into the corners of the room. Trust was a luxury neither of you could afford, even after what you'd shared in the springs. Perhaps especially after that.

You rolled over on your futon, facing Obito once more. Despite your exhaustion, your mind was too active for sleep, whirring with thoughts of tomorrow's hunt. "Ok. It's settled. I'll distract him and you swoop in and kill him," you stated confidently, your vectors swirling with excitement at the prospect of facing the legendary Raikage.

Obito raised an eyebrow, his scarred face half-illuminated by the dying embers. "You seem eager to face a man who's faster than lightning itself," he observed, studying you with that calculating gaze that had returned since leaving the hot spring. The intimacy you'd shared earlier felt distant now, replaced by the cold efficiency of planning death.

You sat up on your futon, crossing your legs beneath you as your vectors danced around your shoulders like eager serpents. "That'll be fine. I'm an excellent distraction," you replied with a smirk. The thought of testing yourself against such a formidable opponent sent a thrill through your body almost as potent as what you'd experienced with Obito earlier. "I'll even make my vectors visible," you added, your smile turning predatory at the thought of the Raikage's reaction to your otherworldly abilities.

Obito studied you silently for a moment, his mismatched eyes reflecting the orange glow from the hearth. "Your confidence is either your greatest strength or a fatal weakness," he finally said, though there was a hint of something almost like admiration in his tone. "But yes, your vectors should prove... distracting. The Raikage has never encountered anything like them before."

You stretched out on your futon again, a pleased smile playing on your lips. The plan was simple but effective - you would engage the Raikage with your vectors, keeping him occupied and confused with abilities he couldn't comprehend, while Obito phased through reality to deliver the killing blow. It was the same deadly dance you'd performed with the other Kage, a partnership of monsters that worked with brutal efficiency.

Your eyes grew heavy as exhaustion finally began to overcome your racing thoughts. Tomorrow would bring blood and death and power - the particle style humming in your mind would soon have lightning speed to accompany it. As sleep claimed you, your last conscious thought was of Obito watching you from across the room, his scarred face unreadable in the growing darkness. Partners in destruction, momentary lovers, and perhaps something more dangerous than either - two broken beings who recognized themselves in each other's darkness.

Golden rays of dawn crept through the small window of the safehouse, painting warm stripes across your face. You stirred from sleep, your vectors instinctively stretching around you like a cat waking from a nap. The light danced across your eyelids, gently pulling you from dreams filled with lightning and blood.

Your eyes fluttered open, immediately sliding toward the other futon. Obito was already up, his back to you as he secured weapons into hidden pockets of his fresh clothing. His movements were precise and economical, a shinobi preparing for the hunt. The scarred side of his profile caught the morning light, highlighting the textured ridges you'd traced with your fingers just hours ago.

"You're awake," he stated without turning, his senses as keen as ever despite the intimacy you'd shared. There was no softness in his voice now, no trace of the vulnerability he'd shown in the hot spring. He had rebuilt his walls overnight, becoming once again the cold, calculating predator you'd first partnered with.

You sat up slowly, stretching your arms above your head as your vectors extended fully around the room. The morning air felt cool against your skin after the warmth of the futon. "Always so observant," you yawned, studying his methodical preparations. Despite your casual tone, excitement bubbled beneath the surface. Today you would face the Raikage - today you would claim his speed.

You rose from your futon, vectors automatically straightening the bedding behind you. Outside, birds sang in the trees surrounding the safehouse, oblivious to the killers in their midst. The peaceful scene contrasted sharply with your purpose here, a jarring juxtaposition that brought a small smile to your lips. "Beautiful morning for a hunt," you remarked, moving to collect your own weapons.

Obito finally turned to face you, his mismatched eyes coldly assessing. The intimacy of the hot spring seemed a distant dream now, replaced by the businesslike partnership of two predators with a common goal. "The Raikage begins training in exactly seventeen minutes," he stated, activating his Sharingan. "Are you ready?" The question hung between you, laden with unspoken meaning - were you ready not just for the coming battle, but to return to the deadly dance you'd been performing before last night's interlude.

"100 percent," you answered without hesitation, your vectors rippling with anticipation around you. The memory of last night's intimacy still lingered on your skin, but the thrill of the coming hunt quickly overshadowed it. The Raikage's lightning speed would soon be yours.

You got to your feet in one fluid motion, stretching your limbs as the morning sunlight played across your skin. Your once blood-soaked uniform lay neatly folded nearby, now mysteriously clean. You reached for it and began dressing, not bothering to turn away from Obito's mismatched gaze. Privacy seemed a pointless concept after what you'd shared in the hot spring.

You pulled the shirt over your head, smoothing the fabric against your skin. The material felt strange without the stiffness of dried blood, almost too soft against your battle-ready nerves. Obito's eyes remained fixed on you, his expression unreadable as you dressed. The tension between you had shifted yet again - neither the cold calculation of your first meeting nor the desperate heat of last night, but something new and undefined.

You secured the last of your weapons, feeling their familiar weight against your body. Your vectors swirled excitedly around you, practically vibrating with eagerness for the coming battle. "That's better," you declared, rolling your shoulders to settle the uniform. "Ready when you are, partner." The word "partner" hung in the air between you, carrying more meaning than either of you acknowledged.

Obito gave a curt nod, his Sharingan spinning slowly as he approached you. "Remember the plan," he said, his voice all business now. "You engage and distract. I deliver the killing blow." He extended his hand toward you, the gesture oddly formal after the intimacy you'd shared. The scarred side of his face caught the morning light, highlighting the textured ridges your fingers had traced hours before.

You took his hand without hesitation, your vectors coiling around both your wrists in a physical manifestation of your deadly partnership. The sensation of Kamui activated immediately, reality warping around you as Obito transported you both to the dimension between worlds. Through this strange space, you would emerge near Kumogakure, where the Raikage awaited, blissfully unaware that two monsters were coming to claim his power. Your lips curved into an anticipatory smile as the safehouse disappeared around you, replaced by the swirling void of Obito's dimension.

The swirling patterns of Obito's dimension surrounded you briefly before reality reassembled itself. You emerged on a rocky outcropping, the crisp mountain air of Kumogakure filling your lungs. Below you stretched the training ground - a flat expanse carved into the mountainside, bordered by jagged cliffs and sparse vegetation. Obito had vanished from your side, phasing away to position himself for the kill.

Through the early morning mist, you spotted him - the Raikage, A. His massive frame was unmistakable even at this distance, muscles rippling as he performed kata with lightning crackling around his body. Unlike the other Kage you'd encountered, he trained alone, without guards or assistants. Pride or confidence, it didn't matter - it made your job easier.

You descended toward the training ground casually, making no attempt to hide your approach. Your vectors swirled visibly around you, black ribbons catching the morning light as you walked straight toward the most powerful shinobi in the Cloud Village. The Raikage stopped mid-motion, his body instantly coiling with tension as he sensed your presence.

"Who the hell are you? How did you get past the village sensors?" he demanded, lightning chakra intensifying around his massive frame. His eyes narrowed as they tracked your vectors, clearly trying to make sense of the impossible appendages dancing around your body.

You smiled pleasantly, stopping a respectful distance away and giving a small wave as if this were a casual social call rather than an assassination. "I'm Raven. Interdimensional time traveler. Or better yet, anomaly. I just killed the Mizukage 48 hours ago and Onoki less than 24 hours ago. So hi." Your vectors rippled with anticipation, ready to engage the moment Obito made his move.

The Raikage's expression shifted from confusion to rage, lightning exploding around him as he processed your words. "You dare-" He never finished the sentence. His body blurred with impossible speed, closing the distance between you faster than ordinary eyes could track. But you weren't ordinary, and neither were your vectors. As his lightning-charged fist aimed for your chest, you braced for impact, knowing this would be a worthy hunt indeed.

Chapter Text

However, in a blink of an eye, the Raikage changed trajectory. You felt your body twist unnaturally as his lightning-fast strike connected not with your chest, but with your neck. There was a sickening crack as your head snapped 180 degrees, giving you a perfect view of the scene behind you. The pain was intense but brief as your consciousness flickered.

The Raikage turned away from your crumpled form, apparently satisfied with his quick work. His footsteps echoed across the training ground as he began walking away, believing the threat eliminated. Your vectors rushed to reposition your head, twisting it back to its proper orientation with gentle but insistent force as your instant regeneration kicked in, mending shattered vertebrae and torn tissue within seconds.

You suddenly sat upright, your body already fully healed. "Whoa, you really are fast." Your casual tone echoed across the training ground, the words so incongruous with your apparent resurrection that they hung in the air like a challenge.

The Raikage froze mid-step, his massive shoulders tensing before he slowly turned to face you. His expression shifted from shock to disbelief to fury in rapid succession, lightning chakra crackling more intensely around his hulking frame. You rose to your feet with deliberate slowness, enjoying his bewilderment. He had felt your neck snap in his hands-you should be dead-yet here you stood, looking merely inconvenienced.

You manifested all hundred of your vectors simultaneously, the black ribbons unfurling from your body like a deadly flowering. This was no longer about stealth or subtlety-you wanted him to see what was coming. You sent the barrage of vectors toward him, each one visible on purpose as they tore through the air. The Raikage's reflexes were incredible; he dodged and blocked with lightning-wrapped limbs, his body becoming almost a blur as he evaded your attacks.

"You really tried to kill me?" You called out with mock offense, the hypocrisy rolling off your tongue like a bad joke. After all, you had openly introduced yourself as the killer of two Kage, and here you were, complaining about him defending himself. A part of you was aware of the absurdity, but another part genuinely enjoyed the game-the dance of predators circling each other, each waiting for the other to make a fatal mistake. You felt Obito's presence somewhere nearby, watching, waiting for the perfect moment to strike while you kept the Raikage thoroughly distracted.

You wondered if Obito had a heart attack when he saw your neck snap, or if such brutal efficiency was simply expected when dealing with Kage-level opponents. Either way, there was no time to speculate as the Raikage recovered from his shock.

"What the hell are you?" he growled, lightning intensifying around his massive frame. His eyes tracked your vectors with growing alarm as you maintained your relentless barrage, each black ribbon slashing through the air where his body had been a split second before.

You decided to try something unexpected. Drawing on Onoki's particle style that you'd claimed less than a day ago, you formed a perfect cube of white energy between your vectors. The Raikage's eyes widened in recognition as the molecular disintegration technique-signature of the Tsuchikage he believed still alive-manifested in your hands.

You launched the cube directly at him. Despite his incredible speed, the attack caught him off-guard-not from lack of reflexes, but from sheer disbelief. The cube made contact with his right arm, molecules instantly disintegrating on contact. The Raikage leapt backward with a roar of pain and rage, lightning crackling violently around what remained of his limb.

"Looking for Onoki?" You called out, your voice dripping with mock innocence as you gestured to the empty training ground. "Sorry to disappoint. It's just little old me." The Raikage's eyes darted frantically across the mountainside before returning to you, comprehension dawning on his face as he realized the implications of your wielding the Tsuchikage's power.

"Impossible!" he snarled, clutching the stump of his arm as lightning chakra cauterized the wound. The fury in his eyes was tinged with something you rarely saw in your opponents-genuine fear. You slowly formed another particle cube between your vectors, relishing his reaction. "That's what the Mizukage said too. Right before I took her brain." As you prepared to launch the second attack, you sensed Obito spiraling into existence behind the distracted Raikage, his Sharingan fixed on the perfect moment to strike.

You grinned wildly at the Raikage, your vectors swirling dramatically around the particle cube, putting on a show to ensure his attention remained fixed on you and not on the danger materializing behind him. "Now prepare for my ultimate attack!" Your voice echoed across the mountainside training ground, deliberately theatrical as you raised your hands with flourish.

The Raikage shifted his stance, lightning chakra intensifying to blinding levels around his remaining arm. His muscles tensed as he prepared to dodge what he believed would be another particle style attack. You could see calculation in his eyes - weighing whether to dodge or counter, his focus entirely on the deadly cube hovering between your vectors.

You made an elaborate motion with your hands, as if channeling immense power, but deliberately held back from launching any actual attack. The particle cube remained suspended between your vectors, its white energy humming ominously as the Raikage braced himself, ready for an assault that wasn't coming. You savored the moment of misdirection, watching as the legendary shinobi remained completely unaware of the real threat materializing behind him.

Obito emerged fully from his spiral dimension, his movement utterly silent as he materialized directly behind the Raikage. The Uchiha's expression remained cold and focused, his Sharingan spinning hypnotically as he thrust his hand directly through the Lightning Shadow's back. The attack was perfectly timed, catching the Raikage in that split second where his attention was entirely fixed on your supposed "ultimate attack."

Blood sprayed across the training ground as Obito's hand emerged from the front of the Raikage's chest, clutching his still-beating heart. A's eyes widened in shock and rage, his lightning chakra flickering wildly before beginning to fade. "How-" he choked, blood bubbling from his lips as he tried to turn his head to see his killer.

You let the particle cube dissolve, your vectors returning to swirl lazily around your body as you watched Obito complete the assassination. "Your arrogance was your downfall," Obito stated emotionlessly, withdrawing his blood-soaked arm as the Raikage's massive body crumpled to the stone ground. The Lightning Shadow's eyes dulled, fixed on you with a final look of confusion and fury before the light behind them extinguished completely. "As promised," Obito said quietly, stepping back from the body, "his head remains intact."

"Oooh. You take them down with style I'm impressed obi-one," you said with a playful smile, approaching the Raikage's fallen form. The massive body lay sprawled across the stone, blood still pooling beneath the gaping wound in his chest. His eyes remained open, fixed in that final moment of shocked realization.

You began moving around the body in an improvised victory dance, your vectors swirling in celebration as you circled the fallen Kage. Your movements were oddly graceful yet disturbing - a predator's dance after a successful hunt. With deliberate flair, you positioned yourself directly above the Raikage's head, planting both feet firmly on either side of his skull.

Obito leaned against a nearby boulder, his mismatched eyes watching your macabre performance with clinical detachment. "That was careless," he remarked coldly, crossing his arms over his chest. "Allowing your neck to be snapped like that. Had you been anyone else, this would have been a solo mission for me."

You barely acknowledged his criticism, too focused on your prize as your vectors descended toward the Raikage's head. With surgical precision, they removed the top portion of his skull, peeling it away like the rind of fruit to reveal the pinkish-gray matter beneath. The brain - still warm - pulsed with residual electrical energy, tiny sparks dancing across neural pathways that were rapidly shutting down.

Your vectors plunged into the exposed tissue, searching with practiced efficiency for the source of his legendary speed. You could feel it - that unique neural architecture that had allowed him to move faster than almost any living being. Your intuitive aptitude worked to comprehend and absorb the complex ability, breaking it down to its fundamental components before integrating it into your own neural pathways.

A surge of raw electricity suddenly coursed through your body, causing your back to arch as lightning chakra crackled briefly across your skin. The sensation was intense but fleeting - a flash of pure power that settled into your cells like new knowledge. You stepped back from the corpse, feeling lighter, your reactions already noticeably sharper. "That's three down," you whispered, flexing your fingers as residual electricity danced between them. "I wonder who's next on our little hit list?"

"He caught me off guard ok?" You said defensively, noting Obito's judgmental stare. Your vectors rippled with residual lightning chakra, the newly acquired power still settling into your neural pathways. The sensation was exhilarating - like every cell in your body had been supercharged, making even the mountain air feel electric against your skin.

You stood up and looked over at Obito. His orange spiral mask was something else - a stark contrast to the face you'd explored so intimately in the hot spring just hours ago. Hidden behind that swirled facade was the scarred visage you'd traced with your fingertips, the vulnerability you'd briefly glimpsed beneath layers of calculated indifference. Now he was all business again, the mask a physical manifestation of the walls he'd rebuilt between you.

"So who's the next target? How many Kage are there?" You asked, stretching your limbs to test your newfound speed. The Raikage's ability flowed through you like liquid lightning, making your movements feel almost lazy in their effortlessness. You couldn't help but grin as your vectors whipped around you at nearly double their previous velocity, black ribbons creating a deadly blur that even Obito's Sharingan seemed to track with slightly more effort than before.

Obito stepped away from the boulder, his mismatched eyes coolly assessing the decimated corpse of the Raikage. "Five in total. Two remain - the Hokage of the Leaf and the Kazekage of the Sand," he replied, casually wiping blood from his hand with a cloth. "The Kazekage will be next. His control of sand makes him particularly vulnerable to your lightning-enhanced vectors now."

You glanced down at the Raikage's mutilated body, a strange pang of something like respect flickering through you. He had been formidable - the first opponent who had actually managed to land a killing blow on you, however temporary it had been. The sensation of your neck snapping had been unpleasant but educational. Now his power was yours, his speed integrated into your already considerable abilities. Each kill made you stronger, more versatile - a perfect weapon becoming even more perfect.

You kicked a small stone over the edge of the training ground, watching it disappear into the mist that clung to the lower slopes of the mountain. Far below, Kumogakure continued its morning routines, still unaware that its leader lay dead on his private training ground. Soon enough, someone would come looking for him. "Kazekage it is then," you said with a predatory smile. "Though I'll be a bit more careful with my neck this time."

"I'm sure you could find this neck of mine more useful alive than dead," you added with a playful lilt. The words carried an obvious suggestive undertone, your eyes locking with Obito's mismatched pair. The memory of your heated encounter in the hot spring lingered between you, an electric current beneath the practical matter of assassination.

Obito's scarred face remained impassive, though you caught the briefest flicker of something in his eyes before he turned away. "Focus on the mission," he replied curtly, already scanning the training grounds for any signs of approaching shinobi. His dismissal was expected-last night's intimacy had been carefully locked away behind his mask of indifference.

You sighed and rolled your eyes dramatically, your vectors still crackling with newfound lightning chakra. Despite the throbbing desire still pulsing through your body, you knew better than to push further. Your newfound abilities demanded attention, and the hunt still called to you both. "So who's the Kazekage?" you asked, shifting topics as you took one last glance at the Raikage's corpse.

"Gaara of the Desert," Obito replied, seeming relieved at your return to professional matters. "A monster in his own right. He controls sand with unparalleled precision-an entire desert bends to his will." He walked toward you, his Sharingan spinning lazily as it studied your lightning-enhanced vectors. "The youngest Kage in history, but don't let his age fool you. He once hosted the One-Tailed Beast."

Your vectors rippled with excitement at the prospect of claiming such a unique ability. Sand manipulation would complement your growing arsenal perfectly. You stepped closer to Obito, your newfound speed allowing you to appear at his side almost instantly. "Sounds like my kind of target." Your shoulder brushed against his, a deliberate contact that sent a small jolt through your system despite the businesslike context. "When do we leave for the Land of Wind?"

"Immediately," he said, activating his Mangekyo Sharingan. The air began to distort around you both, reality warping as his Kamui prepared to transport you. "The desert awaits." You felt his hand grip your arm, steadying you as the swirling vortex engulfed your bodies. The training ground disappeared, leaving behind only the cooling corpse of the Raikage as evidence of your deadly visit to Kumogakure.

Chapter Text

The swirling vortex of Kamui dissipated, revealing an endless expanse of golden sand beneath your feet. The harsh sunlight hit your skin like a physical blow after the cool mountain air of Kumogakure. Heat shimmered across the dunes, creating wavering mirages on the horizon. You squinted against the glare, spotting the outline of a village far in the distance - Sunagakure, home of the Kazekage.

"So we didn't make a plan for this guy like we did the first three. Are we going to just waltz up and say hey, take the targets off our back or you die?" You turned toward Obito, your vectors swirling lazily around you, already adapted to the dry desert air. The newly acquired lightning chakra made them crackle occasionally, tiny sparks dancing along their dark lengths.

Obito removed his mask, seemingly unconcerned about hiding his identity in this isolated stretch of desert. Sweat already beaded on his scarred face, though his expression remained impassive. "The Kazekage is different from the others," he said, his mismatched eyes scanning the distant village walls. "Young, powerful, but surprisingly reasonable. His sand defense is absolute - even your new speed may not be enough to penetrate it directly."

You flexed your vectors experimentally, feeling the Raikage's lightning energy pulse through them. The sand beneath your feet shifted in response, small particles rising and dancing where your electrified vectors passed close. "Interesting," you murmured. The heat was already becoming uncomfortable, making you long for the cool shadows of Obito's dimension. "So what's the plan then? Reason with him? That's new for us."

"We approach directly," Obito said after a moment's consideration. "Gaara will sense our chakra long before we reach the village walls. He'll either meet us himself or send an escort. Either way, we'll have our audience." He replaced his mask, the orange spiral once again concealing his scarred features. "If diplomacy fails, we kill him like the others. But this time, I want to hear what he has to say first."

You nodded, curiosity piqued by this change in tactics. Three Kage dead in less than two days - perhaps it was only natural that your approach would evolve. The lightning speed you'd claimed from the Raikage hummed through your body, making even standing still feel like wasted potential. "Lead the way then, partner," you said with a predatory smile. Whether this ended in blood or bargains made little difference to you - either way, you'd walk away stronger than before.

You set off across the dunes with Obito, your vectors instinctively lifting you just above the shifting sands to make travel easier. The newly acquired lightning speed from the Raikage made the journey almost laughably quick - distances that would take ordinary shinobi hours to cross passed beneath you in minutes.

As you approached the massive sandstone walls of Sunagakure, you noticed movement along the village perimeter. People were emerging from the village, filing into ordered positions along the edge. Not a chaotic evacuation or battle preparation, but something more disciplined - a reception committee, perhaps. "Looks like we've been spotted," you remarked, your vectors rippling with anticipation.

The formation wasn't aggressive - no drawn weapons or attack stances - but caution radiated from the assembled shinobi like heat from the desert sand. You squinted against the glare, making out the distinctive red hair of a figure at the center of the formation. The Kazekage himself had come to meet you, sand swirling protectively around his thin frame even from this distance.

"As expected," Obito murmured, slowing his pace. "He's been informed of what happened to the others. The Kazekage's intelligence network is surprisingly efficient." His mismatched eyes studied the defensive line with clinical detachment, assessing strengths, weaknesses, potential escape routes.

You halted about fifty yards from the assembled Sand ninja, close enough to communicate but far enough to react if things turned hostile. The Kazekage stepped forward, his pale green eyes evaluating both of you with unnerving intensity. Despite his youth, there was nothing childish about his stance or expression - this was a leader who had faced death and emerged stronger, a kindred spirit in monsterhood.

"The Akatsuki and an unknown accomplice," Gaara stated, his voice carrying clearly across the sand despite its softness. "You've killed three Kage in two days. I assume I'm next on your list." His tone held no fear, only a calm acceptance that made the hair on the back of your neck stand up. Behind him, his shinobi tensed, ready to defend their leader to the death if necessary.

"You don't have to be," you quickly stated, taking a step forward. The sand beneath your feet shifted slightly, responding to the Kazekage's chakra even at this distance.

"I want to be removed from the bingo books and live my life in peace while I'm here. The other three Kage refused. No one has to die. But I'm also not going to keep fighting every day of my life just because some stubborn leaders refuse to leave me alone," you explained, your vectors swirling visibly around you. The lightning chakra you'd absorbed from the Raikage made them crackle with energy, tiny blue sparks dancing along their dark lengths.

You sensed Obito tensing beside you, clearly surprised by your diplomatic approach. This wasn't part of the plan you'd discussed, but you'd seen enough death already. The reason this had all started was because for some unknown reason, the Mizukage had put a hit out on you both. She had classified you as an S-rank threat, then proceeded to issue a kill-on-sight order to all nations. The escalation had been unnecessary and disproportionate.

Gaara's pale green eyes narrowed slightly, studying you with unnerving intensity. "An interesting claim," he said softly, his sand swirling around him in lazy patterns. "Yet you've left a trail of dead Kage in your wake. The Raikage's body was discovered less than an hour ago." Despite his words, there was something in his expression-not quite sympathy, but understanding perhaps.

You held his gaze steadily, feeling the full weight of the desert sun beating down on your skin. Unlike the other Kage, he was listening at least. You could feel the battle-readiness of the Sand shinobi forming a defensive line behind their leader, but Gaara himself showed no fear-only careful assessment. His eyes flicked briefly to Obito, recognition flashing across his features.

"I was a monster once too," he said after a long moment of silence, his voice carrying clearly across the sand. "But killing the other Kage has only ensured that every shinobi in every village will hunt you until the end of your days. Was that truly your path to peace?" The question hung in the air between you, heavy as the desert heat, as his sand continued its defensive dance around his thin frame.

You stepped forward, your vectors rippling with crackling energy but not aggressively expanding. The sand beneath your feet shifted slightly in response to your movement, a subtle warning from the young Kazekage.

"They were already going to hunt me down till the end of my days. I'm guessing the people of your world don't take kindly to other dimensional visitors. I'm stuck in this world. If I have to go out fighting then I will. But if I don't have to then I'd make peace. I'm not a murdering machine regardless of my capabilities." Your voice carried across the desert air, steady and clear despite the tension crackling between the two groups.

Gaara's expression shifted subtly, his pale eyes narrowing as he studied you with renewed interest. "An interdimensional visitor..." he repeated softly, the sand around him momentarily stilling. "That explains the abilities my scouts couldn't identify." His gaze flicked briefly to Obito before returning to you, assessment rather than judgment in his expression.

You felt Obito tense beside you, clearly not having expected this diplomatic approach. Through your peripheral vision, you could see his Sharingan spinning slowly, prepared for any hint of betrayal. The defensive line of Sand shinobi remained motionless, awaiting their Kazekage's command.

"The Mizukage's attack on you was unprovoked?" he asked, his soft voice somehow cutting through the desert wind. Behind him, several of his advisors exchanged concerned glances, clearly uncomfortable with their leader engaging in conversation with the killers of three Kage.

You nodded firmly, your vectors swirling more calmly now as you felt the first glimmer of hope that this confrontation might not end in bloodshed. "Completely. I appeared in this world without warning, and the first thing I experienced was being labeled a threat and attacked. I defended myself." You gestured toward the village behind him. "All I want is to be left alone to figure out my place in this world. I don't need to add any more blood to my hands."

"The initial hit on me was due to the atmospheric disturbance that I carried around me. She must have sensed it and immediately labeled me a threat." You shifted your weight, the sand beneath your feet adjusting to your movement. Your vectors swirled visibly around you, their black tendrils no longer crackling with aggression but instead moving with languid curiosity.

You glanced sideways at Obito, a question forming in your mind that you hadn't considered before. That much you could say for yourself. But you weren't sure why Obito was a target? Maybe due to you being together, he simply got sucked into it? But if that was the case, he could have left. He had ulterior motives - that much was becoming increasingly clear.

Gaara's pale green eyes studied you both, his expression unreadable as sand continued to dance protectively around his thin frame. "Interdimensional travel creates ripples in chakra networks that sensitive sensors can detect," he acknowledged with a slight nod. "But that doesn't explain the Akatsuki's involvement." His gaze shifted to Obito, hardening slightly. "Your organization has been hunting jinchūriki like me. Your goals are far from peaceful."

Obito remained silent for a moment, his masked face revealing nothing of his thoughts. The tension between you grew palpable as you realized you had entered diplomatic waters without consulting him first. "My goals and Raven's temporarily align," he finally said, his deep voice carrying across the sand with calm authority. "I have no quarrel with you today, Kazekage, if you're willing to grant her request."

The desert wind picked up slightly, sending small eddies of sand swirling between the two groups. Behind Gaara, his shinobi remained in perfect formation, their tension evident in rigid postures and watchful eyes. You could feel their collective chakra humming with readiness, a wall of potential violence held back only by their leader's calm demeanor.

Gaara closed his eyes briefly, seeming to weigh his options. When he opened them again, there was a resolve in his gaze that hadn't been there before. "I will remove you from Sunagakure's bingo book and advocate for the same with the remaining villages. But in exchange, you both leave the Land of Wind immediately and pledge no harm will come to its people." His sand rose higher around him, emphasizing that this was not merely a request but a condition backed by the full might of his position. "Do we have an agreement?"

You met the Kazekage's unwavering gaze, recognizing the weight of this moment. "Agreed. And if you could... send out a warning. If the other nations don't remove me, including the ones I've already been to, then I will take decisive action to ensure my own survival." Your vectors rippled with subtle electricity, not threatening but a reminder of what you were capable of.

You stepped back, putting a respectful distance between yourself and the defensive line of Sand shinobi. Your eyes slid over to Obito, gauging his reaction to this diplomatic solution. His mask revealed nothing, but you could sense the tension in his posture.

Gaara nodded once, sand swirling back into the gourd on his back. "I will send word to the remaining villages. But understand this - I cannot force them to comply. Each Kage makes their own decisions." His pale green eyes shifted between you and Obito, a flicker of something like curiosity passing across his otherwise impassive face.

"So... what's the Akatsuki?" you asked, turning toward Obito. The question had been brewing since Gaara mentioned it, another reminder of how little you knew about your partner beyond his deadly skills and what you'd shared in the hot spring.

Obito's posture stiffened almost imperceptibly. "This isn't the time or place for such discussions," he replied coldly, his Sharingan fixed on Gaara rather than you. "Our business here is concluded, Kazekage. We accept your terms."

Gaara studied you both for another long moment before inclining his head slightly. "Then depart from the Land of Wind and do not return. I hope for all our sakes that peace can be achieved without further bloodshed." He turned back toward his village, the defensive line of shinobi parting to let their leader through while maintaining watchful eyes on you and Obito.

Chapter Text

"I can only guarantee that for you, Kazekage," you called after him, your voice carrying clearly across the desert air. The words hung between you like a promise wrapped in a threat - protection for him personally, but not necessarily extended to others.

Gaara paused mid-step, his red hair shifting slightly in the desert breeze. He turned his head, fixing you with those pale green eyes that seemed to hold the weight of a lifetime of suffering despite his youth. He gave a single, understanding nod before continuing toward his village, sand swirling protectively around him as he walked.

Obito's hand found your shoulder, his grip firm as reality began to warp around you both. The spiral of his Kamui technique pulled you from the physical world, the desert landscape and watchful Sand shinobi blurring into streaks of color before disappearing completely. The brief sensation of weightlessness accompanied your journey through dimensions before you emerged on a rocky outcropping several miles from Sunagakure, the village now just a distant smudge on the horizon.

"That was unexpected," Obito said, removing his mask. His scarred face looked even more severe in the harsh desert sunlight, his mismatched eyes studying you with renewed calculation. "Diplomacy isn't typically how I handle these situations."

You shrugged, your vectors swirling lazily around you as the Raikage's lightning chakra continued to crackle through your system, making even your smallest movements feel charged with energy. "Four out of five dead Kage seemed excessive even for me. Besides, he was different from the others. I recognized something in him - he understands what it means to be feared for what you are rather than what you've done."

Obito's expression shifted slightly, something unreadable flickering across his features as he considered your words. "Perhaps. But don't mistake temporary alignment for true understanding. In this world, monsters rarely find peace - they simply find more effective ways to wage war." He replaced his mask, the spiral pattern once again concealing whatever vulnerability might have been glimpsed in his scarred features. "Now, we should move. The Hokage remains, and Konoha won't be as easily reasoned with."

"Who's the Hokage?" you asked, your vectors lazily tracing patterns in the sand at your feet. The residual lightning chakra from the Raikage still crackled through your system, making even small movements feel charged with excess energy.

Obito tilted his masked face toward you, the single eyehole revealing nothing of his expression. "Tsunade Senju, one of the legendary Sannin. A master of medical ninjutsu with inhuman strength," he replied, his voice cool and measured. "She can shatter mountains with a single finger. Her healing abilities are... problematic for our usual methods."

Your interest piqued at the challenge. A medical ninja with super strength sounded like an intriguing combination of abilities to potentially add to your arsenal. Your vectors rippled with anticipation, the black tendrils now occasionally sparking with blue electricity.

You gazed out at the distant smudge of Sunagakure, considering the implications of your diplomatic success with Gaara. Perhaps there was another way forward with this Tsunade as well. "Think she'd be reasonable like the Kazekage? Or is she more like the others?" You rolled your shoulders, feeling the pleasant hum of power coursing through your body as you tested your newfound speed.

Obito scoffed slightly, the sound muffled behind his mask. "Tsunade is stubborn and fiercely protective of Konoha. She won't back down, especially after what we did to the other Kage," he stated flatly. "She also has a personal connection to Gaara. When she learns we confronted him, she'll be preparing for us, diplomatic resolution or not."

You nodded thoughtfully, watching as a hawk circled overhead in the clear desert sky. The simplicity of its predatory nature reminded you of your own - adapting, hunting, surviving. Whatever came next with this Hokage, you would face it as you had everything else in this strange world. "Well, I guess we'll find out soon enough what kind of reception we'll get in Konoha," you said, stretching your limbs. The sun beat down mercilessly on your exposed skin, making you eager to leave this scorching desert behind.

"And who are the Akatsuki? Do I have to worry about a whole other group? Or should you be my only concern?" You asked, brushing sand from your clothes. The question had been brewing ever since Gaara brought it up. Despite your partnership with Obito, there was still so much you didn't know about him or this world you were trapped in.

Obito stiffened visibly, his masked face turning toward you with deliberate slowness. The single eyehole revealed nothing of his expression, but the tension in his shoulders spoke volumes. "The Akatsuki is an organization with... specific goals. Goals that align temporarily with our partnership," he said carefully. "You need not concern yourself with them at the moment."

You crossed your arms, your vectors swirling more aggressively around you as irritation sparked through your system like the Raikage's lightning. "That's not an answer, Obito. I've killed three Kage at your side. I think I deserve to know whose agenda I'm actually serving." The memory of his body against yours in the hot spring flashed through your mind - intimacy without trust was a dangerous game.

He turned away from you, looking out across the vast desert expanse. "The Akatsuki collects tailed beasts from jinchūriki like Gaara once was. Our ultimate goal is ambitious - to end war and bring true peace to this world through means others find... unacceptable." His voice dropped lower, taking on a quality you hadn't heard before. "The details are complex, and not relevant to your immediate survival."

You stepped closer to him, sand shifting beneath your feet as your vectors extended toward his masked face. "And what happens when our goals no longer align? When I've eliminated the threats to my existence here only to find I've helped you achieve something I might not agree with?" The vectors hovered just inches from his mask, not threatening but making it clear you weren't satisfied with his evasion.

Obito caught your vector with his gloved hand, his Sharingan spinning slowly behind his mask. "Then we'll face that conflict when it comes. For now, we both benefit from this arrangement." He released your vector, his voice softening slightly. "We should move. Konoha's legendary sensors could detect us even at this distance. The Hokage awaits." The swirling pattern of his Kamui began to form between you, effectively ending the conversation as reality warped around your bodies.

The distorting vortex of Kamui faded, revealing a lush forest landscape that contrasted sharply with the barren desert. Towering trees surrounded you, their thick canopies filtering the sunlight into dappled patterns on the ground. The air felt pleasantly cool and humid after the scorching heat of the Land of Wind.

"This was the most we did in one day," you remarked, stretching your limbs as your vectors swirled lazily around you. Three Kage confrontations in less than 24 hours was pushing even your extraordinary capabilities. "The Hokage's healing ability doesn't interest me much since I have my own, but super strength to match this new speed wouldn't be bad."

You gazed toward the distant gates of Konoha, visible through a break in the trees. Unlike your approach to Sunagakure, this time there was already a welcoming committee. Several figures stood positioned strategically by the massive wooden gates, their stance alert but not yet openly hostile. "If we have to fight, it'll be long and drawn out because of her stamina and healing. I'd rather she go peacefully, but..." Your voice trailed off as you studied the distant shinobi.

Obito's masked face turned toward the village gates, his Sharingan undoubtedly analyzing the reception waiting for you. "They're expecting us," he stated flatly. "Word travels fast in the shinobi world, especially when it concerns three dead Kage and one diplomatic resolution."

You moved closer to the village with deliberate steps, your vectors spreading wide in a defensive formation around you. As you approached, you could make out more details of the waiting shinobi. A tall man with gravity-defying gray hair stood at the center, his face partially covered by a mask that revealed only a single, watchful eye. Flanking him were other ninja of various builds, all radiating quiet readiness for whatever might transpire.

"That doesn't exactly scream peaceful negotiation," you muttered as you drew closer to the gates. You could feel the Raikage's lightning chakra humming through your system, ready to unleash speed beyond mortal comprehension if needed. But something in the gray-haired ninja's stance-alert yet not aggressive-made you hesitate to initiate hostilities. Perhaps there was still a chance to resolve this without adding a fourth Kage to your list.

Chapter Text

You stopped a respectful distance from the gates, your vectors swirling visibly but non-threateningly around your body. The lightning chakra you'd absorbed from the Raikage crackled occasionally along their dark lengths, a subtle reminder of what you were capable of. The gray-haired ninja at the center of the welcoming committee straightened slightly, his single visible eye narrowing as he assessed your unusual abilities.

"I need to speak with your leader," you called out clearly, your voice carrying across the distance between you and the gates. Your tone was neither hostile nor particularly friendly-simply direct, the voice of someone who had business to conduct and expected to be taken seriously.

"I'm afraid I'm not up for taking unscheduled meetings today," he replied evenly, his voice carrying a hint of dry humor despite the tension in the air. "Especially not from those associated with three dead Kage and the Akatsuki. Though I admit, your diplomatic resolution with the Kazekage has us... curious."

You narrowed your eyes, your vectors flaring with crackling lightning energy around your body. The electric blue sparks danced along the black tendrils as they expanded outward, not attacking but certainly making a statement.

"If you can't give an entire village orders then you're useless to me. Unscheduled or not, my business is serious. I don't need to follow your shinobi rules. Name yourself and bring me your leader. I will not leave." Your voice carried across the clearing, firm and unyielding. Behind you, Obito stood in silent observation, his orange spiral mask revealing nothing as he assessed the standoff developing before Konoha's gates

The gray-haired ninja's single visible eye studied you with renewed intensity, his relaxed posture shifting almost imperceptibly as he processed your words. Behind him, the other shinobi tensed at your display of power, hands moving closer to their weapons.

"I am Kakashi Hatake, Sixth Hokage of Konohagakure," he stated calmly, his voice carrying the authority of his position despite his casual demeanor. "And you would be the interdimensional visitor who's been... reshaping the political landscape of our world."

His eye flicked past you to Obito's masked form, and you felt the temperature drop several degrees despite the warm forest air. The recognition was instant and devastating-decades of pain, betrayal, and loss flickering across Kakashi's visible features in the span of a heartbeat before his professional mask reasserted itself.

"As for bringing you our leader-you're looking at him," Kakashi continued, though his voice had taken on a harder edge. "But I'm afraid your... companion there won't be permitted past these gates under any circumstances. Obito Uchiha is a war criminal of the highest order."

Behind you, Obito remained perfectly still, his orange mask betraying nothing of whatever emotions might be coursing through him at hearing his real name spoken by his former teammate. The silence stretched taut between the two men, heavy with unspoken history and unhealed wounds.

"However," Kakashi added, his visible eye never leaving Obito even as he addressed you, "if you're genuinely seeking peaceful resolution as you did with the Kazekage, I'm willing to hear what you have to say. But you'll need to come alone. He waits outside the village-or this conversation ends now."

The weight of decades of shared tragedy hung in the air between the former teammates, making your diplomatic mission suddenly feel like stepping into the middle of a very personal war.

The weight of decades of shared tragedy hung in the air between the former teammates, making your diplomatic mission suddenly feel like stepping into the middle of a very personal war.

"Your diplomatic approach with the Kazekage was... unexpected," Kakashi said after a long moment, his visible eye shifting back to you. He tilted his head slightly, studying you with that single, penetrating gaze. "Perhaps we can continue that tradition."

You felt a flicker of hope at his words, though the tension between him and Obito remained thick enough to cut with a kunai. "Take me off your bingo book," you demanded, your serious tone carrying across the clearing. "That's all I want. Peace."

Kakashi's eye curved in what seemed to be amusement, though his guard never dropped. "Direct. I can appreciate that quality." He glanced once more at Obito's silent form before making his decision. "This way. And your... friend stays here under guard."

As if summoned by his words, several ANBU materialized from the shadows around the gates, their porcelain animal masks gleaming in the dappled forest light. You could feel Obito's tension spike behind you, but he made no move to interfere.

"You lead, I follow," you said to Kakashi, retracting your vectors closer to your body as a show of temporary compliance. The lightning chakra still crackled along their dark lengths, a reminder of your lethal capabilities despite your current diplomatic approach.

Kakashi nodded once, signaling to his team before turning toward the village gates. As you passed through the massive wooden barriers, you couldn't help but gawk at what lay beyond.

"So, this is like the suburbs of the shinobi world?" you said, more to yourself than to Kakashi. Despite the deadly ninja watching your every move, there was something almost quaint about the village-children playing in parks, civilians shopping at market stalls, the everyday bustle of a community that somehow managed to exist alongside trained killers.

"Missing an eyeball? You a pirate?" you asked, glancing sideways at Kakashi's covered eye as you walked, trying to break the awkward silence that had settled between you.

Kakashi gave you what appeared to be an amused look, though with three-quarters of his face covered, it was hard to be certain. "Not a pirate, no. Just a souvenir from an old mission." He tapped his headband lightly before returning his attention to the path ahead. "And Konoha isn't exactly the suburbs. We're one of the five great shinobi villages-though I suppose after taking down three Kage, that distinction might not mean much to you."

You shrugged, feeling oddly normal despite being led through enemy territory toward a potentially hostile leader. There was something refreshing about simple conversation after days of bloodshed and Obito's cryptic machinations. "It's just... peaceful. Didn't expect that." Your gaze drifted to a group of academy students practicing shuriken throws in a nearby training ground, their faces screwed up in concentration.

Kakashi led you up a winding staircase toward the circular building at the center of the village, his posture casual yet alert. "Peace is what we fight to protect," he said simply, his tone carrying the weight of someone who had seen too much war. "Perhaps that's something we can both understand."

Kakashi led you up a winding staircase toward the circular building at the center of the village, his posture casual yet alert. "Peace is what we fight to protect," he said simply, his tone carrying the weight of someone who had seen too much war. "Perhaps that's something we can both understand."

The Hokage's office was impressive in its simplicity-a large wooden desk positioned to take advantage of the panoramic view of Konoha spread out below. Sunlight streamed through the massive windows, illuminating the village in golden hues that made it look almost idyllic. Kakashi moved behind the desk with practiced ease, settling into his chair while maintaining that watchful eye on you.

Your eyes methodically took in the room, cataloging potential escape routes-the large windows overlooking the village, the doorway you'd just entered, and what appeared to be a hidden passage behind a bookshelf. Old habits died hard, and despite the diplomatic nature of this meeting, you remained ready for violence if negotiations failed.

Kakashi reached into a desk drawer and withdrew a thick folder, flipping through the pages with deliberate slowness. You caught glimpses of photographs, mission reports, and what looked like detailed analysis sheets. The folder was surprisingly comprehensive for someone who had supposedly appeared in their world only days ago.

"Quite an impressive file for such a short visit to our dimension," Kakashi observed, his visible eye scanning the documents. You noticed him lingering on certain pages-detailed reports on your activities that made your skin crawl with their precision. The kills of the three Kage were documented with clinical accuracy, with particular attention to the unusual removal of the Raikage's and Onoki's skull caps. Your apparent acquisition of their abilities was noted as "inexplicable replication of bloodline traits"-a phenomenon that seemed to baffle their intelligence division.

"One hundred shinobi neutralized in under a second," he read aloud, his one eye flicking up to study your vectors with renewed interest. "Those would be these black appendages, I presume?" His gaze was analytical, connecting the reports to the living weapon standing before him. You weren't just an S-rank threat to him-you were something entirely new, something that defied their understanding of how power worked in this world.

The weight of being so thoroughly documented settled uncomfortably on your shoulders as you realized just how closely you'd been watched since your arrival.

Chapter Text

He turned another page, revealing the initial hit order from the Mizukage. The interdimensional disturbance that had surrounded your arrival was highlighted in red ink - "Anomaly requiring immediate extermination" according to the Mizukage's assessment. The irony wasn't lost on either of you - that hasty judgment had directly led to three Kage deaths.

"So," he said, closing the folder with deliberate slowness, his visible eye never leaving your face. "You're seeking removal from the bingo books. A diplomatic solution rather than more bloodshed." He leaned back in his chair, fingers interlaced behind his head in a deceptively casual pose. "Convince me."

"Convince you? Should I start tap dancing?" you replied with a sardonic smile. Your vectors unfurled behind you in an exaggerated display, twirling and spinning in mocking pirouettes. The dark tendrils moved with theatrical flair, crackling occasionally with blue electricity as they performed their sarcastic ballet.

Kakashi's eye curved in what might have been amusement. "Maa, that would certainly be... unexpected. Though I think I'll pass on the entertainment."

"I'm fighting for my life. I'm tired. Remove me. The request is simple. If you do, I'll leave and never return." You let your vectors drop the charade, pulling them closer to your body as exhaustion suddenly swept through you.

"Tired?" Kakashi tilted his head slightly, studying you with that penetrating gaze. "The Mizukage's hasty judgment cost her life. Gaara seems to think you're reasonable... when not provoked." He tapped the folder with one finger. "Though I notice your 'reasonableness' didn't extend to the Tsuchikage or Raikage. Something about removing their skulls? How very... thorough of you."

You crossed your arms defensively. "They attacked first. I defended myself."

"Maa, self-defense." Kakashi's tone was perfectly neutral, but something in his eye suggested he wasn't entirely buying your version of events. "Here's my counteroffer," he said, pulling out a blank document. "I remove you from Konoha's bingo book. You leave Fire Country immediately. And-this is non-negotiable-you tell me everything you know about the Akatsuki and your masked friend outside."

"I don't know anything about the Akatsuki. I've been in this world for little over a week." You met his gaze steadily. "As for Obi-one, he's transportation. If you want him, he remains outside your gate."

Kakashi was quiet for a long moment, his visible eye studying you with uncomfortable intensity. "A week in our world and already three Kage dead," he said finally, his voice carrying a hint of that dry humor. "Quite the introduction. You know, most visitors try the local cuisine first, maybe visit some hot springs..." His tone grew more serious. "And you expect me to believe you know nothing about the organization your 'transportation' belongs to?"

You shifted uncomfortably under his scrutiny. "Believe what you want. My offer stands."

"Three Kage in two days. One diplomatic resolution with Gaara. And now you're here, asking for the same courtesy." Kakashi leaned forward slightly, his elbows resting on the desk. "What happens when you leave here? More Kage to hunt? More abilities to... acquire?" The way he said 'acquire' made it clear he'd read the reports about your skull examinations.

"Only if I find it necessary to my survival. I'm very keen on self-preservation."

"Self-preservation," he repeated thoughtfully, resting his chin on his interlaced fingers. "A principle I understand quite well. Though most people who seek only to survive don't leave quite such a... distinctive calling card." There was something almost conversational in his tone, as if discussing the weather rather than mass murder.

"I didn't start this fight. But I'll finish it if I have to."

Kakashi's expression grew contemplative as he noticed your exhaustion. "Maa, you look tired. Fighting for your life is exhausting work, I imagine." He reached for a pen and pulled out an official document. "I'll remove you from Konoha's bingo book under two conditions. First - you leave Fire Country immediately and don't return without formal permission. Second - this alliance with the Akatsuki ends now."

"What makes you think I have any alliance with them?"

Kakashi's eye curved again, though this time there was no humor in it. "Call it intuition. But I've been around long enough to recognize when someone's being used." He stamped the paper with an official seal and slid it across the desk. "Consider yourself removed from our bingo book. I suggest you make your exit quickly - my generosity has been known to have a very short shelf life."

You stood up, your vectors coiling around you like restless snakes as you turned to leave. Agreement reached, mission accomplished-removal from the bingo book achieved without further bloodshed. That was a win in your exhausted state.

You paused mid-step, a thought suddenly crystallizing in your mind. Without turning around, your vectors stilled as if holding their breath. "Tell me, Hokage, if I hadn't killed the first three Kage... would you have removed me?"

The silence stretched between you, broken only by the soft rustle of papers as Kakashi presumably shuffled through his files. When he finally spoke, his voice carried that familiar lazy drawl. "Maa, that's quite the hypothetical question."

You could practically hear the shrug in his voice. "You know, in my experience, people don't usually get what they want by asking nicely. Especially not when they're classified as interdimensional anomalies requiring immediate extermination." There was a pause, and you imagined him tilting his head in that characteristic way. "Funny how a little demonstration of capability can change perspectives, isn't it?"

The casual tone didn't mask the underlying message-he was confirming what you both already knew. Without the violent display of power, without the three dead Kage as evidence of your capabilities, you would have remained hunted until they finally managed to kill you or seal you away.

"Though I have to say," Kakashi continued conversationally, "your approach was certainly... direct. Most people start with filing formal complaints. You went straight to removing the complaint department entirely."

You didn't need to turn around to know he was probably giving you one of those infuriating eye-smiles. Your vectors swirled lazily around you as you walked to the door, his point made without having to voice the uncomfortable truth directly.

You closed the door behind you with a soft click, your vectors automatically sensing a presence in the hallway.

You closed the door behind you with a soft click, your vectors automatically sensing a presence in the hallway.

A man with dark hair and kind eyes stepped forward from where he'd been waiting against the wall.

Unlike the ANBU guards you'd seen earlier, this one wore the standard Konoha flak jacket and had an almost gentle demeanor that seemed at odds with his obvious shinobi training.

"I'm Yamato," he said simply, his voice calm and measured. "The Hokage asked me to escort you to the village gates."

There was no hostility in his tone, just professional courtesy tinged with wariness as his eyes tracked the movement of your vectors.

You nodded, falling into step beside him as he began walking down the corridor. The silence between you was comfortable rather than tense-this man seemed more interested in completing his duty efficiently than in making small talk or veiled threats.

As you descended the stairs and moved through the village streets, you noticed how Yamato's presence seemed to ease the tension of passing civilians.

They recognized him, trusted him, which made your own passage through their home less threatening. Children still stared at your vectors with wide eyes, but their parents didn't immediately pull them away.

"The Hokage made the right choice," Yamato said quietly as the village gates came into view. "Sometimes peace requires difficult decisions."

You glanced at him, surprised by the observation. "You think so?""Experience has taught me that fighting only breeds more fighting," he replied, his eyes distant.

"If there's a chance to end a cycle of violence..." He shrugged slightly. "It's worth taking that chance."Ahead, you could see Obito's masked figure waiting exactly where you'd left him, ANBU guards maintaining a respectful but vigilant distance.

Your unconventional partnership was about to resume, but something had shifted during your time in the Hokage's office-a seed of doubt about the path you'd been walking.

Chapter Text

Yamato escorted you through the village gates where Obito stood waiting, the ANBU guards maintaining their vigilant distance. Without a word, he fell into step beside you as you both disappeared into the forest. Once you were safely away from prying eyes, reality warped around you as Obito activated his Kamui, transporting you both back to the familiar geometric void of his dimension.

The moment you materialized on the floating platform, Obito's demeanor shifted. Gone was the patient ally who had waited silently outside Konoha's gates.

"Did you think I wouldn't hear your conversation with Kakashi?" He stepped closer, his voice carrying a dangerous edge. "Your suggestion to abandon our partnership?"

You felt a chill despite the dimensional void's strange warmth. "Maybe if you'd been straight with me about the Akatsuki instead of playing games, I wouldn't have considered it." Your vectors rippled defensively, creating a barrier between you.

"They can't just take you anyway," you added, crossing your arms. Despite your bold words, being trapped in this void with an increasingly hostile Obito put you at a distinct disadvantage.

"Is that what you think of me?" Obito's scarred face remained impassive, though something flickered in his mismatched eyes. "You have no idea what I'm capable of. What I've survived. What I've done."

"Then tell me," you shot back, frustration building. "Stop with the games. If we're partners, I deserve to know who I'm actually working with."

Obito turned away, his gaze sweeping the endless void. "Partners?" He laughed bitterly. "You tried to trade me to Konoha. You've made it clear you're only interested in your own survival." His Sharingan spun slowly as he glanced back. "Which is exactly why I chose you. Self-preservation is a powerful motivator."

"And what about you? What's your motivation in all this?"

"You want honesty? Fine." He faced you fully. "I need your power. The Akatsuki's goals align with mine – to create a world of truth, not the lie we currently live in." He stepped closer until he was mere inches away. "And despite your attempts to abandon me, I still believe you're useful. For now."

"You want to know the truth?" Your vectors flared with electric sparks. "This world IS the truth. Your people's truth. You just can't accept it, so you want to create a fantasy and live in it."

Obito's eyes narrowed dangerously. "You understand nothing. This world is built on lies. Endless conflict, meaningless death, children sent to slaughter each other for old men's ambitions."

As he spoke, you became aware of something subtle happening to your vectors. The longer you remained in his presence, the more they seemed to resonate with his dimensional abilities – studying, adapting, learning without your conscious direction.

"And now you won't let me out of here," you said quietly, the reality of your situation becoming clear. "I pissed you off."

"You think I brought you here to trap you?" Obito let out a soft, bitter laugh. "I could have done that at any time. But understand this: our partnership continues on my terms."

"Then you're willing to undo everything I worked for?" You fought the urge to lash out, aware that your vectors were somehow mapping his abilities through proximity alone.

"What I'm doing will create a world without suffering," he said, stepping closer. "Your 'work' means nothing compared to what I'm trying to accomplish."

Despite the threat in his words, you sensed opportunity. Your vectors continued their subtle analysis of his dimensional signatures, slowly unraveling the secrets of Kamui through extended exposure.

"You have two choices," Obito continued. "Continue working with me, on my terms. Or find yourself stranded where no one will ever find you."

You stepped closer, placing your hand on his shoulder. His eyes widened slightly at the unexpected contact. "Fine. I'll continue working with you. But we need ground rules if this partnership is going to work."

"Ground rules?" He laughed humorlessly. "This isn't a negotiation."

"You tell me the truth. About everything," you countered, tightening your grip. "And no more threatening to strand me. We're either partners or we're not."

Something like respect flashed across his face. "Very well. I won't threaten to abandon you – as long as you don't try to abandon me again." He placed his scarred hand over yours. "Now, shall we continue? We have preparations to make."

"*Two* Kage Summit," you corrected, pulling your hand away. "Three are dead now, remember?"

Obito's eyes studied you with renewed interest. "Yes. Three dead Kage. Your power continues to impress me." He began pacing the platform. "We've disrupted their system, but there's still work to be done. The remaining Kage will be more cautious now, more prepared. That makes them more dangerous – but also more predictable."

Obito began pacing the platform, his movements more agitated than you'd seen before. "The situation has changed dramatically since your... diplomatic successes." He gestured sharply, and the void around you shimmered, displaying images like a twisted slideshow—burning buildings, panicked civilians, emergency council meetings.

"Kirigakure is in economic collapse," he continued, his voice taking on a clinical tone. "Half their infrastructure was destroyed when you killed the Mizukage in her own residence. The resulting power vacuum has three different clans vying for control." The image shifted to show Iwagakure's mountain fortress, sections of it clearly damaged. "The Tsuchikage's death left Iwa without their primary defensive strategist. They're pulling back all external operations to protect what remains."

You watched the scenes unfold with a mixture of satisfaction and unease. The destruction was more extensive than you'd realized. "And the others?"

"Kumogakure has sealed their borders entirely. They're too busy establishing a new Raikage and rebuilding their military hierarchy to threaten anyone." Obito's Sharingan spun as he pulled up what appeared to be intercepted intelligence reports. "All three villages have issued the same directive—Strategic Kill Directive Level Omega. You're no longer hunted by squads or bounty hunters. You're treated like a walking natural disaster."

The images faded, leaving you both in the gray void once more. "They've learned that targeting you means their leaders die and their villages burn," Obito said, something like pride in his voice. "Konoha's diplomatic approach was the only intelligent response. The others chose differently and paid the price."

You felt a strange mix of relief and hollowness at his words. The constant threat from three of the five great nations was gone, but through fear rather than understanding. "So we're untouchable now?"

Obito's expression hardened, his scarred face taking on a look of cold determination that sent a chill through you. "From conventional threats, yes. But this world still exists. The cycle of hatred continues, just with new players." He stopped pacing, fixing you with that intense mismatched gaze. "But I've discovered something. Five ancient relics, artifacts from before the Sage of Six Paths. They're said to be keys to a world without chakra—a reality where the endless conflicts of shinobi cannot exist."

Your vectors stilled around you as you processed this new information. "More artifacts? More power to collect?"

"More than that." Obito's voice dropped to an almost reverent whisper. "These relics are different. They predate the chakra system entirely. If I can gather all five, I can rewrite reality itself—create the perfect world I've always envisioned, but through a path that even the current Naruto cannot interfere with."

Something in his tone made your skin crawl. This wasn't the calculating strategist you'd been working with—this was obsession given form. "And you want me to help you collect them?"

"I need you to help me," he corrected, the distinction important to him. "Your abilities make you uniquely suited to claiming these artifacts. Each one is sealed away, protected by guardians and traps that conventional shinobi cannot overcome."

You studied his face, noting the barely contained desperation lurking behind his cold facade. The three peaceful resolutions—Gaara's understanding, Kakashi's pragmatism, and your own diplomatic growth—meant nothing to him. He still saw only a world that needed to be unmade.

"The first relic is located in the ruins of Uzushiogakure," he continued. "We leave immediately."

As reality began to warp around you once more, you couldn't shake the feeling that you were stepping deeper into something far more dangerous than hunting Kage. But perhaps, in these ancient artifacts, you might find something for yourself as well.

Chapter Text

The swirling vortex of Kamui deposited you both on a desolate coastline, where the skeletal remains of what had once been a great village jutted from the earth like broken teeth. Uzushiogakure-the Village Hidden in Whirlpools-had been reduced to crumbling stone foundations and twisted metal that groaned in the salt-laden wind.

"The Uzumaki clan's former stronghold," Obito said, his voice carrying across the ruins. "Destroyed during the Third Great War when the other villages feared their sealing techniques." He gestured toward the center of the devastation, where a partially collapsed tower still stood. "The first relic is sealed within their most sacred vault."

You followed him through the rubble-strewn streets, your vectors unconsciously mapping the destruction around you. This place felt different from the other battle sites you'd visited-older, more profound in its loss. The very air seemed to hum with residual energy, though you couldn't identify its source.

"What exactly are we looking for?" you asked, stepping over a chunk of carved stone that might have once been part of a memorial.

"According to the ancient texts, it's called the Heart of Resonance," Obito replied, his Sharingan scanning the ruins for threats. "Said to be a crystalline artifact that can amplify spiritual energy beyond normal limitations." He paused at the base of the damaged tower, examining strange symbols carved into its foundation. "The Uzumaki used it to power their most advanced sealing jutsu."

As you approached the tower's entrance, something stirred in your chest-not quite recognition, but a familiar warmth that had nothing to do with the coastal climate. Your vectors began to move restlessly around you, their movements taking on patterns you didn't consciously direct.

The entrance to the vault lay behind a massive stone door covered in spiral seals that still pulsed with faint energy. Obito placed his hand against the barrier, his chakra probing for weaknesses. "The seals are still active after all these years. Impressive."

You stepped closer, and the moment your vectors came within range of the door, the seals flared to brilliant life. But instead of repelling you, they seemed to... welcome you. The stone door groaned and began to slide open on its own, ancient mechanisms responding to something in your presence.

Obito's eyes widened behind his mask. "Impossible. Those seals should only respond to Uzumaki blood." He studied you with renewed suspicion. "What aren't you telling me about your abilities?"

"I'm as surprised as you are," you replied, which was mostly true. The door's response to your vectors was unexpected, but the growing warmth in your chest suggested something deeper was happening.

The vault beyond was a circular chamber carved from living rock, its walls covered in spiraling patterns that seemed to move in your peripheral vision. At the center, on a pedestal of black stone, sat a crystal unlike anything you'd ever seen. It was roughly the size of your fist, multifaceted and translucent, with veins of silver light running through its core like captured lightning.

But the moment you laid eyes on it, your world tilted.

The crystal wasn't just glowing-it was singing, a harmony that resonated in frequencies your vectors recognized but your conscious mind had forgotten. The warmth in your chest exploded into recognition so powerful it drove you to your knees.

*Nen.*

Pure, undiluted nen energy flowed from the artifact in waves, washing over you like a tide from home. Your vectors went wild, extending to their full range and writhing with an excitement you'd never felt before. This wasn't chakra-this was the life force you'd been born to manipulate, the energy that had defined your existence before you'd been ripped from your world.

"What's happening?" Obito's voice seemed to come from very far away as you struggled to process what you were experiencing.

The crystal pulsed brighter, and suddenly the air above it shimmered like heat waves. For just a moment-barely a heartbeat-you saw through the distortion to another place entirely. Rolling green hills stretched to the horizon, dotted with strange creatures and impossible architecture. The Hunter Association's symbol gleamed on a distant building, and you could swear you heard the faint echo of familiar voices carried on an alien wind.

Home.

The vision faded, leaving you gasping on the vault floor while Obito knelt beside you, his scarred face creased with concern and suspicion. "Raven! What did you see?"

You forced yourself to breathe normally, your mind racing as you processed the implications. These artifacts weren't keys to Obito's perfect world-they were anchors, beacons from your own dimension that had somehow found their way into this reality. Five pieces of home, scattered across a world that didn't understand their true nature.

"I'm... I'm fine," you managed, pushing yourself back to your feet. Your vectors had calmed but remained extended toward the crystal, drawn to it like moths to flame. "The artifact is more powerful than we expected. I think... I think we need all five before we can safely use any of them."

It was a lie, but one Obito needed to believe. You couldn't let him know what you'd really discovered-that these relics weren't his salvation, but potentially yours.

"The energy signature is unlike anything I've encountered," you continued, stepping closer to the pedestal. "If we try to use just one, it might destabilize the entire network. We need the complete set to achieve the correct phase for your genjutsu."

Obito studied the crystal with renewed interest, his Sharingan spinning as he analyzed its properties. "Fascinating. The energy patterns are completely foreign to this world's chakra system." He looked at you sharply. "How did you know that without studying it?"

"Intuitive aptitude," you replied smoothly. "Same way I understand other abilities. This one just... resonates differently."

The explanation seemed to satisfy him, though you caught the way his eyes lingered on your vectors as they continued their subtle dance around the artifact. You reached out carefully and grasped the crystal, gasping as another wave of nen energy washed through you. For a moment, your connection to your original world felt almost tangible.

*These aren't his salvation,* you thought as you secured the relic. *They're mine.*

A distant rumble echoed through the vault, followed by the sound of footsteps on stone. Obito's head snapped toward the entrance, his body tensing as his Sharingan detected approaching chakra signatures.

"We're not alone," he said grimly. "Three signatures, all familiar. It seems the other surviving Akatsuki members have found us."

You clutched the crystal tighter, feeling its nen energy pulse against your palm like a second heartbeat. Whatever was coming, you now had something worth fighting for beyond mere survival-you had hope.

Chapter Text

The Land of Demons lived up to its ominous name. Jagged black rocks pierced the landscape like obsidian spears, and the very air seemed to hum with malevolent energy. The Sealed Caverns lay carved into the face of a cliff that looked as though it had been torn open by some massive claw.

"The Mirror of Truth is deep within the mountain," Obito explained as you both approached the shrine ruins that marked the entrance. Ancient sealing tags fluttered in the wind like prayer flags, their ink faded but still pulsing with residual power. "The priestess who bound the demons here used it to show them their true nature-something so horrific that even they couldn't bear to look."

You nodded absently, more interested in the way your first relic was humming with increasing intensity the closer you got to the caverns. The Heart of Resonance, wrapped safely in your vectors, seemed to be resonating with something deeper in the mountain-another piece of home calling to its companion.

The entrance to the caverns yawned before you, carved symbols warning away intruders in a dozen dead languages. But as you and Obito stepped forward, a clay spider suddenly exploded across the entrance in a shower of rock and smoke.

"Miss me, Tobi?"

Deidara descended from above like some demented angel, arms crossed and that familiar manic grin splitting his face. His blonde hair whipped in the wind as he landed on a chunk of debris, clay birds already forming in his palms.

Kisame materialized beside him with predatory grace, Samehada twitching eagerly on his back as his shark-like grin revealed rows of pointed teeth. "Well, well. The infamous interdimensional killer and our dear departed comrade."

Hidan sauntered up last, dragging his three-bladed scythe behind him with deliberate casualness. His violet eyes locked onto you with religious fervor. "Fresh blood for Jashin. I've been *so* looking forward to this sacrifice."

"The relics belong to Akatsuki," Deidara declared, more clay creatures taking shape around his position. "Hand them over, or we'll take them from your corpses. Art is eternal, after all."

You felt Obito tense beside you, his Sharingan already spinning as he calculated the threat. Three against two weren't terrible odds, but these weren't ordinary opponents-these were S-rank criminals who had survived the Fourth Great War.

"I don't think so," you replied calmly, your vectors unfurling around you like deadly petals. The lightning chakra you'd absorbed from the Raikage crackled along their dark lengths, and you could feel the nen energy from the first relic responding to your emotional state.

Hidan's grin widened as he raised his scythe. "This is going to be *fun*."

The Jashinist lunged forward with surprising speed, his blade whistling through the air toward your neck. You sidestepped easily, but he managed to nick your arm with the scythe's tip, drawing a thin line of blood across your skin.

"Got you!" Hidan cackled as he licked the blood from his weapon. His skin immediately began to shift, taking on the familiar black and white skeletal pattern of his ritual. "Lord Jashin, accept this sacrifice!"

Without hesitation, he drove his scythe deep into his own chest, piercing his heart with a wet squelch. His eyes rolled back in religious ecstasy as he waited for you to collapse in shared agony.

You didn't even flinch.

"Regeneration," you said softly, watching as the small cut on your arm sealed itself completely. "Faster than your god can blink."

Hidan's expression shifted from triumph to confusion to rage in the span of a heartbeat. "What? That's impossible! The ritual is perfect!"

Your vectors slammed into him before he could pull the scythe from his chest. The first one took his right arm clean off at the shoulder. The second removed his left leg at the knee. You dismembered him methodically, clinically, leaving him conscious but completely immobilized.

"You stay here," you said, tossing his screaming, writhing torso into a nearby sealing alcove where the ancient wards would keep him contained.

Obito watched the entire exchange without comment, but you caught the way his mismatched eyes lingered on Hidan's severed but still-living body parts. He'd noted that you hadn't killed the Jashinist-only neutralized him.

"One down," Deidara called from above, apparently unconcerned about his partner's fate. "But I'm just getting warmed up! Art is an explosion!"

Clay birds erupted from his palms, diving toward you and Obito like guided missiles. You could see the chakra-infused explosive tags attached to each one, turning them into living bombs that adjusted their flight paths to follow your movements.

Obito immediately began phasing through the explosions, his Kamui allowing him to slip between dimensions as the birds detonated around him. But Kisame was already moving, appearing behind him with Samehada raised for a devastating strike.

Your vectors shot out instinctively, coiling around the massive sword before it could make contact with Obito's back. Samehada thrashed in your grip like a living thing, its scales scraping against your vectors as it tried to drain your energy.

"Interesting," Kisame grinned, pulling back on his weapon. "Your chakra tastes... foreign. Almost like it's not from this world at all."

More clay birds screamed down from above. Deidara had taken position on a high outcropping, launching a seemingly endless stream of explosive sculptures. You saw him forming hand seals for something larger, more dangerous.

"C3!" he shouted, and a massive clay owl materialized above him, its belly swollen with enough explosive power to level the entire shrine.

The owl dove straight for Obito, who was still locked in Kamui-assisted evasion patterns. You realized with crystal clarity that he wouldn't be able to phase fast enough to avoid the blast radius entirely.

Without thinking, you threw yourself between Obito and the descending bomb, your vectors forming a protective wall around both of you. The explosion was tremendous-a pillar of fire and force that shook the mountain itself. Your vector shield cracked under the assault, and you felt the heat scorch your skin even through your supernatural defenses.

When the smoke cleared, you were on one knee, ash coating your clothes and small burns marking your exposed skin. But you were alive, and more importantly, so was Obito.

"Why would you-" he started, staring at you with something between confusion and suspicion.

"Didn't I say I'm invested now?" you replied, brushing ash from your sleeve as you stood. Your regeneration was already working on the minor burns, healing them faster than they could properly form.

Obito didn't reply, just continued staring at you with those mismatched eyes. You could practically see the gears turning in his head, trying to understand why someone who had openly considered abandoning him would risk injury to protect him.

"Enough games!" Deidara snarled from above, clearly frustrated that his masterpiece hadn't achieved the desired results. "If you won't die properly, I'll just have to get more creative!"

Kisame hefted Samehada again, but his movements were more cautious now. He'd seen what your vectors could do to Hidan, and he wasn't eager to test them against his own regenerative abilities.

"This isn't over," the shark-man called as he began backing toward the cliff face. "But perhaps discretion is the better part of valor today."

Deidara cursed colorfully but followed his partner's lead, his clay birds forming a protective screen around their retreat. "You can't guard him forever, interdimensional freak! Next time, I'll make sure my art reaches its full potential!"

As the two Akatsuki members disappeared into the mountain peaks, you felt Obito's Kamui activate once more. The familiar sensation of dimensional travel washed over you, and your vectors automatically mapped another 25% of his technique. You were at 75% now-close enough to taste complete mastery of his ability.

*Just a little more,* you thought as reality reformed around you in the safety of his pocket dimension. *Soon I'll have everything I need.*

In your vectors, both relics hummed with nen energy, their combined resonance creating harmonics that made your skin tingle with anticipation. Two down, three to go-and with each acquisition, your path home became clearer.

But first, you had to address the growing suspicion in Obito's eyes as he watched you with new wariness, clearly trying to understand why you'd protected him so fiercely.

As the smoke cleared from Deidara's retreat, you noticed something glinting in the rubble-a torn piece of black fabric with red clouds embroidered across its surface.

The explosion had been close enough to shred part of his Akatsuki cloak, leaving behind a sizable section that had caught on the shrine's broken stonework.

You walked over and picked up the fabric, examining the distinctive pattern with genuine appreciation. The material was surprisingly high quality, and the red clouds were hand-stitched with expert precision.

"I like your Akatsuki fit," you called after Deidara's retreating form, though he was already too far away to hear you clearly. You wrapped the torn cloak section around your shoulders like a half-cape, the black fabric contrasting nicely with your usual attire.

Obito watched your impromptu fashion choice with one raised eyebrow. "That's... unexpectedly practical of you," he said, though something in his tone suggested he found your casual appropriation of Akatsuki regalia either amusing or mildly concerning.

"What? It's a good look," you replied with a shrug, adjusting the fabric so the red cloud pattern was clearly visible. "Besides, if we're going to keep running into your old teammates, I might as well look the part."

The torn cloak fluttered dramatically in the mountain wind as you turned back toward the cavern entrance, giving you an unexpectedly theatrical silhouette against the dark stone.

There was something satisfying about wearing a piece of the organization that had been hunting these relics-like claiming a trophy from a worthy opponent.

"The Mirror of Truth awaits," you said, gesturing toward the yawning cavern mouth with newfound style. The black and red fabric rippled with your movement, making you look every inch the dangerous rogue ninja you'd somehow become.

Obito shook his head slightly, but you caught what might have been the ghost of a smile beneath his mask as he followed you into the depths of the Sealed Caverns.

Chapter Text

The familiar geometric void of Kamui materialized around you both, its silence a stark contrast to the explosive chaos you'd just escaped.

You touched down on the floating platform with practiced ease, though dust and soot still clung to your clothes from Deidara's artistic tantrum.

The torn Akatsuki cloak fluttered around your shoulders like a battle standard.The air here felt strangely calm-almost oppressive in its stillness after the adrenaline-fueled confrontation.

You tried to shake off the residual tension, rolling your shoulders and stretching your vectors experimentally. Just another day at the office, right?But the two relics wrapped safely in your vectors had other ideas.

The Heart of Resonance and the Mirror of Truth pulsed with increasing intensity, their combined nen energy creating harmonics that made your very bones vibrate.

Too loud, too alive for anything chakra-based.Obito hadn't spoken since your arrival. Instead, he paced the platform with unusual restlessness, his Sharingan occasionally flickering toward the relics with calculating interest.

The silence stretched between you like a taut wire, heavy with unspoken questions.You forced a casual laugh, trying to break the tension. "Well, that was fun. Nothing like a good explosion to get the blood pumping."

You attempted to sound nonchalant, as if facing three S-rank criminals was just another Tuesday. "Though I have to say, Deidara's artistic vision could use some work, un yeah."

The mimicry of his verbal tics brought a small smile to your lips.Still, Obito said nothing. He continued his methodical pacing, the soft sound of his footsteps echoing strangely in the dimensional void.

You settled cross-legged on the platform, trying to project an air of relaxed confidence even as the relics' energy thrummed through your system like a drug.

The sensation was intoxicating-each pulse bringing with it flashes of something that felt like home. Green hills, impossible architecture, the distant echo of familiar voices...

"You know," you said, your voice softer now, "this whole interdimensional adventure thing gets old fast. Sometimes I miss..." You paused, surprised by the sudden tightness in your throat.

"I miss my old crew. The Phantom Troupe. We were a family, in our own twisted way."

The admission slipped out before you could stop it, homesickness washing over you in an unexpected wave.

"Especially my little mouse, Feitan. Violent little bastard with a torture fetish, but he had this way of..." You trailed off, shaking your head. "Never mind. Point is, at least I knew where I stood with them."

Obito finally stopped pacing, his mismatched eyes fixing on you with unsettling intensity. "Interesting," he said quietly. "The Phantom Troupe. A criminal organization from your world, I assume?"

His Sharingan spun slowly, analyzing every micro-expression on your face. "And yet you speak of them with genuine affection. How... telling."

You shrugged, trying to recapture your casual demeanor. "What can I say? Shared trauma bonds people."

"Indeed it does." Obito moved closer, his gaze never leaving the relics pulsing within your vectors. "Speaking of bonds... I couldn't help but notice something interesting during our recent acquisition."

His voice carried a dangerous edge now, the careful neutrality of someone about to spring a trap.Your vectors tightened protectively around the artifacts, an unconscious response that didn't go unnoticed by his spinning Sharingan.

"The relics," Obito continued, stepping within arm's reach now. "They respond to you in a way that defies conventional understanding. My Sharingan can see the energy patterns they emit-and they're unlike anything in this world."

His scarred face remained impassive, but his voice dropped to a whisper. "They resonate with your very essence, Raven. Almost as if... they recognize you."

The accusation hung in the air between you like a blade waiting to fall. You could feel your heart rate spike, though you fought to keep your expression neutral. The relics pulsed stronger now, as if responding to your emotional state.

"I'm not sure what you're implying," you said carefully, though the words felt hollow even to your own ears.Obito's lips curved into a cold smile.

"I'm not implying anything. I'm stating a fact." He leaned closer, his Sharingan fixed on your face with laser focus. "These artifacts aren't keys to my perfect world, are they? They're something else entirely. Something... personal to you."

The silence that followed was deafening. In the distance, geometric shapes continued their eternal dance through the void, indifferent to the tension crackling between two killers who had just discovered they might not be on the same side after all.

"So tell me, Raven," Obito said, his voice carrying the weight of certainty now. "What exactly are these relics? And what do you really plan to do with them once we've collected all five?"

"Put them together piece by piece and see what happens," you replied with a casual shrug, meeting his gaze steadily. It was a half-truth, but a truth nonetheless-you genuinely didn't know exactly what would happen when all five relics were combined, only that they would likely open a path home.

Obito studied your face for a long moment, his Sharingan spinning as it analyzed every micro-expression. The relics continued their harmonic pulsing within your vectors, their nen energy creating subtle distortions in the dimensional space around you.

"See what happens," he repeated slowly, his tone suggesting he found your answer both truthful and inadequate. "How very... scientific of you." He stepped back, resuming his pacing but keeping you within his peripheral vision. "And you have no theories about their true nature? No hypotheses about why they respond so strongly to your presence?"

You stretched your legs out in front of you, projecting an air of relaxed honesty. "Look, I've been yanked through dimensions more times than I can count. I've learned not to make assumptions about mysterious artifacts." You gestured toward the pulsing relics. "These things clearly predate your chakra system. Maybe they're from my world originally. Maybe they're from somewhere else entirely. Won't know until we have the complete set."

The explanation had the virtue of being mostly true, even if it omitted your growing certainty about their origin. Obito's Sharingan continued its lazy rotation, but you could see the calculation behind his mismatched eyes.

"Pragmatic," he acknowledged after a moment. "Though I notice you didn't deny the possibility of them being connected to your dimension." His scarred face remained impassive. "Tell me, what would you do if collecting all five relics opened a path back to your Phantom Troupe? Back to your 'little mouse' Feitan?"

The question hit closer to home than you were comfortable with, sending another wave of unexpected homesickness through your system. The thought of seeing Feitan again, of returning to the familiar chaos of the Troupe, made your chest tighten with longing you hadn't allowed yourself to feel.

"Hypothetically?" you asked, buying time as you considered how much truth to reveal. "I suppose I'd have a choice to make, wouldn't I?"

Obito stopped pacing entirely, his full attention now focused on you with predatory intensity. "Yes," he said quietly. "You would indeed."

"Are you jealous of my mouse? Why did you say it like that?" you asked, deliberately shifting the conversation away from dangerous territory. Your tone carried a teasing edge as you tilted your head, studying Obito's scarred face with mock curiosity.

Obito's Sharingan stopped spinning for just a moment, caught off guard by the sudden change in direction. "Jealous?" The word seemed to taste foreign on his tongue, as if he hadn't considered the emotion in years. "Of a criminal from another dimension whom I've never met?"

You grinned, enjoying the way his carefully controlled facade flickered with confusion. "You got all intense when I mentioned him. 'Your little mouse Feitan,'" you mimicked his tone, making it sound unnecessarily dramatic. "Almost like you don't like the idea of me having attachments elsewhere."

The accusation hung in the dimensional void between you, and you watched with satisfaction as something unreadable flashed across Obito's features. He resumed his pacing, but his movements were more agitated now, less controlled.

"Your personal attachments are irrelevant to our mission," he said, his voice returning to its usual cold neutrality. But there was something forced about the indifference, as if he was trying to convince himself as much as you.

"Uh-huh." You stretched out on the platform, using your vectors to prop yourself up comfortably. "That's why you're pacing around like a caged animal. Because you don't care at all." The relics continued their gentle pulsing within your vectors, their nen energy creating a soothing background hum that contrasted sharply with the tension radiating from your companion.

Obito's mismatched eyes snapped to yours, something dangerous flickering in their depths. "I don't-" He stopped himself, jaw clenching as he fought for composure. "Your past connections have no bearing on our current partnership."

"Partnership," you repeated with amusement. "Is that what we're calling it? Because from where I'm sitting, it looks more like you're bothered by the idea that I might choose someone else over you." You let the observation settle between you like a challenge, curious to see how he'd respond.

The silence stretched uncomfortably long, broken only by the distant echo of your words in the vast dimensional space. Obito had stopped pacing entirely now, his body rigid with an emotion he seemed unwilling to name.

"Perhaps," he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper, "I've simply grown... accustomed to having a reliable partner. Nothing more."

The admission was carefully neutral, but you caught the slight hesitation before 'accustomed,' the way his scarred fingers clenched and unclenched at his sides. For all his talk of cold pragmatism, the idea of you leaving-of choosing your old life over whatever strange dynamic had developed between you-clearly affected him more than he wanted to admit.

You filed that information away for later use, a small smile playing at your lips. "Relax, Obi-one. I'm not going anywhere just yet. We still have three more relics to collect, remember?"

It remained silent for a long beat, till you broke it for even more awkward tension. The kind of tension you thrived in.

"Then it's settled. You're madly in love with me," you declared suddenly with absolute certainty, as if you'd just solved a complex mathematical equation.

Obito went completely still. The only movement was his Sharingan, which began spinning noticeably faster, the tomoe blurring into rapid rotations.

"No." His voice was flat, clipped. "That assessment is incorrect."

You grinned, watching the hypnotic spiral of his eye pick up even more speed. "Oh really? Because your Sharingan seems to disagree."

"My Sharingan responds to perceived threats and tactical analysis." His tone remained perfectly controlled, almost bored. "Nothing more."

The red in his eye was spinning so fast now it looked like a crimson whirlpool, but his voice never wavered from that maddeningly calm delivery.

"Uh-huh. So I'm a threat now?"

"You are many things. A tactical asset. A useful ally. A means to an end." Each word was delivered with surgical precision, devoid of emotion. "Love is a weakness I eliminated long ago."

His Sharingan was practically vibrating in its socket now, the speed of rotation almost violent, but his scarred face remained an impassive mask.

"That's a lot of words to say 'no,'" you observed with amusement.

"Efficiency of communication is irrelevant when correcting fundamental misunderstandings." His response was immediate, automatic. "Emotional attachments compromise tactical decision-making. I have no use for them."

The contrast was absolutely fascinating-his voice like ice, his posture rigid with control, while his Sharingan spun with the intensity of a buzzsaw. It was the only thing betraying him, the only crack in his perfect facade of indifference.

"Your eye's going to fall out if it spins any faster," you pointed out helpfully.

"My ocular function is optimal." Clipped. Professional. Completely unconvincing when paired with the frantic rotation of his Sharingan. "Your observation is noted and dismissed."

You settled back on the platform, thoroughly entertained. "Right. Well, this has been enlightening. Should we discuss the next relic, or do you need more time to not-love me?"

His Sharingan gave one final, almost violent spin before he turned away entirely. "The third relic is located in the ruins of the Gelel mines. We leave immediately."

Professional. Efficient. Absolutely desperate to change the subject while his eye continued its telltale spinning behind his mask.

Chapter Text

The Gelel Mines lay buried beneath layers of black sand and twisted stone, their entrance barely visible through the collapsed rubble. What had once been a thriving excavation site now resembled a crystalline tomb, with jagged formations jutting from the earth like the ribs of some massive beast.

"The Eye of Time," Obito explained as you both descended into the unstable labyrinth. "Legends say it shows those who gaze upon it alternate timelines-what could have been, what might still be." His voice echoed strangely in the crystal corridors, the sound fracturing and multiplying until it seemed like dozens of conversations were happening at once.

You nodded, though your attention was more focused on the way your vectors were mapping every twist and turn of the tunnels. With each use of Obito's Kamui to reach this place, your understanding of his technique had grown more complete. You were at 98% now-so close to perfect replication you could taste it.

The deeper you went, the stranger the mines became. Chakra warped oddly here, creating pockets of distorted reality where past and present seemed to bleed together. Through the translucent crystal walls, you caught glimpses of figures that might have been memories or might have been ghosts-miners long dead, still swinging their picks in endless repetition.

"There," Obito said, pointing ahead to where a massive obsidian statue dominated a circular chamber. Embedded in its forehead was a golden, multifaceted gem that pulsed with the same familiar energy as your other relics. "The Eye of Time."

As you approached the statue, the gem began to glow brighter, responding to your presence just as the others had. But this time, something else happened. The air around the relic shimmered like heat waves, and suddenly you were looking at-

*Yourself. But different.*

In one flickering vision, you saw yourself still with the Phantom Troupe, laughing as Feitan demonstrated a new torture technique. In another, you stood over his broken body, tears streaming down your face as you held his cooling corpse. And in a third-perhaps the most disturbing of all-you saw yourself and Obito standing together in a world without conflict, his scarred face peaceful as he reached for your hand.

The visions vanished as quickly as they'd come, leaving you breathless and shaken. You didn't say what you'd seen-couldn't say what you'd seen-but the weight of possibility pressed down on you like a physical thing.

Obito stepped forward, reaching for the relic himself. The moment his fingers made contact, his expression shifted from expectation to confusion to something approaching alarm.

"Nothing," he said quietly, pulling his hand back as if burned. "It shows me nothing."

*Because it's not meant for you,* you thought but didn't say. Instead, you carefully extracted the Eye of Time from its housing, feeling the familiar surge of nen energy as it joined its companions in your vectors. That made three-over halfway to whatever destiny awaited you.

"We should return," Obito said, his voice tight with an emotion you couldn't identify. "The mines are unstable."

He raised his hand to activate Kamui, the familiar distortion beginning to form around his Sharingan. But before he could complete the technique, you casually raised your own hand and opened a portal of your own.

The dimensional rift tore open with a sound like silk being ripped, revealing the familiar geometric landscape of the Kamui dimension beyond. But this portal was yours-crafted not from chakra and Sharingan, but from pure understanding and nen-enhanced intuition.

Obito went completely still, his own portal flickering and dying as he stared at yours with undisguised shock.

"What are you doing?" His voice was stiff, controlled, but you caught the underlying tension.

"Oh, nothing. Just opening my own personal Kamui dimension." You stepped through your portal with casual confidence, gesturing for him to follow. "Figured I'd finally put all that observation to good use."

Obito followed you through, but his movements were mechanical, his Sharingan spinning rapidly as he processed what had just happened. "You copied it."

"Well, you keep using it like an Uber. I took notes." You grinned at his expression, enjoying the way his carefully maintained composure was starting to crack. "Besides, I needed somewhere to store all my emotional damage, extra pool floats, and tacos."

His Sharingan flared bright red, the tomoe spinning with violent intensity. "You disgrace the space-time technique. Using it for snacks?"

"It's got great temperature control, okay? My burritos won't get soggy in there. Don't be jealous." You manifested a small portal and pulled out an imaginary taco, taking a deliberately exaggerated bite. "Mmm. Interdimensional preservation really locks in the flavor."

"You're an amateur," Obito said through gritted teeth. "You think a dimensional rift is a toy?"

"Please. It's better than you using it to ghost through arguments and steal corpses." You closed your portal with a casual wave. "At least my version has practical applications."

Obito stared at you for a long moment, his visible eye searching your face as if seeing you for the first time. "Your learning curve," he said finally, his voice carrying a mix of grudging respect and deep unease, "is impressive."

"I get that a lot," you replied with a shrug. "Don't worry though-I'm still willing to work with you. Partnership and all that." You settled onto one of the floating platforms, the three relics pulsing gently within your vectors. "Besides, someone has to keep you from taking yourself too seriously."

The look he gave you suggested he was rapidly reassessing everything he thought he knew about your capabilities-and your intentions. You'd just proven you no longer needed him for transportation, no longer depended on his abilities to navigate between dimensions.

The question hanging unspoken in the void between you was simple: if you didn't need him anymore, why were you still here?

Three relics down. Two to go. And with each acquisition, the path home grew clearer-even as the relationship with your reluctant partner grew more complicated.

Obito's Sharingan slowed its frantic spinning, settling into a more analytical rotation as he studied you with renewed intensity. "How?" he asked, his voice sharp with suspicion.

"From what I've observed, you've only been able to copy kekkei genkai through brain examinations that required your targets of ability acquisition to be... dead."

The question hung in the dimensional void like a blade waiting to fall. You could see the gears turning behind his mismatched eyes, connecting dots he hadn't noticed before.

"Emotional aptitude is the secondary method," you explained, trying to keep your tone casual despite the way his gaze seemed to pierce straight through you.

"It requires a genuine bond, and for you to remain alive... or I'll lose the ability."

The silence that followed was deafening. You watched as understanding dawned across Obito's scarred features, his Sharingan spinning slowly as he processed the implications.

Your protective displays during the fights, your willingness to shield him from attacks, your insistence on working together despite having other options-suddenly it all made sense to him.

His expression shifted, something between realization and calculation flickering across his face as he connected the dots.

"So you've been protecting me," he said slowly, "because you need me alive to maintain the ability."

"Exactly," you replied, then grinned wickedly as another thought struck you. "Which proves you're madly in love with me."

Obito's brain seemed to short-circuit at the complete non-sequitur. "What? That makes no sense whatsoever. Your need to keep me alive for your ability has nothing to do with my-"

"Think about it," you interrupted, gesturing dramatically with your vectors. "I could have stolen any technique from anyone. But I chose yours. Out of all the abilities in this world, I formed an emotional bond strong enough to copy the legendary Kamui."

You tapped your temple with one finger. "That means on some subconscious level, you wanted me to have it. You wanted to share something intimate and personal with me."

"That's not-that's completely-" Obito sputtered, his Sharingan spinning faster again. "That's not how emotional bonds work!"

"Isn't it though?" You leaned back against a floating cube, thoroughly enjoying his flustered reaction. "I mean, it takes two to tango, right? If you didn't have feelings for me, my emotional aptitude wouldn't have been able to latch onto your technique. Face it, Obi-one-you're head over heels."

"I am NOT-" He caught himself, forcing his voice back to its usual controlled tone. "Your logic is fundamentally flawed."

"My logic is flawless," you declared with mock seriousness. "You're just in denial because you can't handle being madly in love with an interdimensional chaos gremlin.

"The look of pure exasperation that crossed his scarred features was absolutely priceless, especially when his Sharingan gave another telltale spin of agitation.

Chapter Text

The cracked forest dimension felt unstable beneath your feet, branches warping where Obito's Kamui had torn through reality one too many times. The very air seemed fractured here, split between what was and what could be, making it the perfect gateway to the fourth relic's location. But Obito had been silent for the past hour, his usual calculated commentary replaced by brooding contemplation.

You stretched your arms lazily, trying to break the oppressive quiet that had settled between you like a living thing. "Y'know, for a guy with a pocket dimension full of dead things, you're really bad at being fun."

"You copied Kamui." His voice was flat, emotionless-the tone he used when discussing tactical failures.

You grinned, enjoying the way those three words carried so much weight. "I did. Was hoping you'd say something more like 'I'm proud of you.' Maybe even a 'Wow Raven, you broke an Uchiha monopoly-let's go get celebratory drinks.'"

Obito stopped walking entirely, his mismatched eyes fixing on you with laser intensity. "You shouldn't have been able to. You shouldn't have wanted to."

"Is that... jealousy?" you asked with mock gasps, delighting in the way his jaw tightened. "Did I violate your sacred space-time honor code?"

"You don't understand what it costs to wield it." His voice dropped to a dangerous whisper, each word carefully controlled. "You're parading around with something meant for war, like it's a storage space."

"Technically it is," you replied with a smirk, manifesting a small portal just to watch his Sharingan spin faster. "Can't wait to store tacos, pool floats. Also a beach chair. Wanna see?"

"Shut. Up."

The words carried such venom that for a moment, you actually considered it. But where was the fun in that? "Make me."

The air shifted between you, charged with something far more dangerous than your usual banter. He didn't take the bait, didn't rise to the challenge. Instead, he turned away entirely, resuming his march toward the relic site with mechanical precision. But you caught the twitch in his jaw, the way his scarred fingers clenched and unclenched at his sides. This wasn't flirting anymore-this was power friction, raw and unforgiving.

The fourth relic's resting place turned out to be a massive crystalline temple buried deep within a mountain range that existed between dimensions. The structure itself seemed to pulse with life, its faceted walls reflecting not light but memories-fragments of conversations, battles, moments of joy and sorrow from across the multiverse.

"The Mirror of Souls," Obito explained as you both approached the entrance, his voice returning to its usual clinical detachment. "Said to reveal the true nature of anyone who approaches it. The fourth relic lies at its heart."

You nodded, though your attention was more focused on the way the temple's energy signature felt familiar-another piece of home calling to its scattered siblings. Three relics hummed within your vectors, their combined resonance making your skin tingle with anticipation.

The moment you both stepped across the threshold, reality folded in on itself.

Suddenly, you were facing yourself-but wrong. This other Raven moved with predatory grace, her vectors writhing around her like hungry serpents. Her eyes held a cruel light you recognized but had never fully acknowledged, the part of yourself that enjoyed the hunt, the kill, the absolute domination over others. She smiled, and it was beautiful and terrible.

"Finally," your doppelgänger purred, "someone who understands the joy of taking what you want."

Beside you, Obito faced his own reflection-but this one wore no mask, and worse, it smiled with genuine warmth. This other Obito moved with fluid grace, unmarked by scars, untouched by loss. He was everything Obito might have been if pain hadn't carved him into a weapon.

"You could have chosen differently," the other Obito said softly, extending a scarred hand in offering. "You still can."

The battle that followed was chaos incarnate. Your doppelgänger fought with gleeful brutality, using every dirty trick and cruel innovation your mind had ever conceived. She was everything you were when you stopped pretending to care about collateral damage, about consequences, about the people around you.

When she launched herself at Obito with vectors aimed for his heart, you moved without thinking. Your own vectors intercepted hers, the clash sending shockwaves through the crystalline chamber. The impact threw you backward, but you landed laughing-actual, genuine laughter that surprised even you.

"Saved your sulking ass," you called out, blocking another attack meant for him. "You're welcome."

Obito didn't even look at you as he phased through his doppelgänger's embrace. "You didn't need to. I had it handled."

"Aw, no thanks? No dramatic handhold or temporary truce of war gods?" You dispatched your other self with a brutal efficiency that would have impressed her, vectors shredding through her defenses like paper.

Obito finally faced you, his voice harder than you'd ever heard it. "You're using power you don't respect. You don't know what it means to survive Kamui. To live in it. To lose yourself to it. I carved myself into that space. You just waltzed in and took what was never meant for you."

The accusation stung more than you wanted to admit. You kept your voice soft, almost too calm. "Maybe I don't want to live in it. Maybe I want to bend it to my will."

"You can't." His Sharingan spun violently, reflecting fractal patterns in the temple's crystalline walls. "That's the problem. You think everything's a game until the rules kill you."

The doppelgängers dissolved like morning mist, leaving you both standing in sudden, oppressive silence. At the chamber's heart, the fourth relic waited-a perfect sphere of what looked like crystallized starlight, pulsing with the same nen energy that had become as familiar to you as breathing.

But as you approached, the sphere began to speak.

"What compels you toward the flame of power?" The voice was ancient, genderless, carrying the weight of eons in each syllable.

You stepped forward first, driven by an impulse you couldn't name. The truth sat on your tongue like a living thing, demanding release.

"Dammit... because... I want to collect the relics to help the love of my life, Obi-one."

The sphere dimmed, its light flickering with what felt like disappointment. Access rejected.

"Fuck. OK ok..." You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to acknowledge what you'd been avoiding. "Because it's my ticket home."

The sphere blazed to life, its radiance washing over you in waves of pure acceptance. Glyphs bloomed across your forearm, burning themselves into your skin with pleasant warmth rather than pain. Another piece of the puzzle, another step closer to the phantom troup, to Feitan, Chrollo, Machi, to the life you'd been torn from.

Obito's eyes narrowed as he watched the marks appear on your skin. "Finally... an actual truth from you. I knew your motives didn't align with mine... I knew I couldn't trust you the moment I laid eyes on you."

You shrugged, unable to suppress the amused smile that tugged at your lips. The relief of finally being honest-even partially-was intoxicating. "We're still madly in love," you said, just to watch his expression twist with dismay.

Now it was Obito's turn.

He stepped forward, his movement slow and reluctant. The sphere waited, patient as stone, as he struggled with words that seemed to catch in his throat.

"And you?" the ancient voice prompted.

"I..." Obito's mouth tightened, his eyes flicking to you. His Sharingan spun faster, reflecting too much in your expression-defiance, teasing, affection, all wrapped in the kind of unpredictability that made him want to both protect and destroy you.

The silence stretched. The sphere waited. You waited. The entire temple seemed to hold its breath.

And he did not speak.

The sphere's light dimmed to nothing, rejecting his silence with finality that made the walls tremble. The temple began to shake, reality fracturing around the edges as the relic's power destabilized without proper offering.

"Move!" you shouted, grabbing the inert sphere as the ceiling began to collapse. Your vectors wrapped around both of you, pulling Obito through a hasty portal just as the crystalline temple imploded behind you.

You emerged in the safety of your own Kamui dimension-still strange to think of it that way-breathing hard from the close call. The fourth relic pulsed weakly in your grip, its power diminished but still recognizable as another piece of home.

Obito stood apart from you, his face a mask of cold fury and something that might have been shame. The silence between you was deafening.

Finally, you looked up at him, your expression smug despite everything that had just happened. "So now you know the truth. These relics run on nen... they won't help you with your Eye of the Moon plan... but they will help me open a portal."

You stood slowly, the fourth relic joining its siblings in the protective embrace of your vectors. "I don't belong in this world, Obi-one. Me just being here destabilizes the very structure of this dimension. If I stay here any longer, keep killing possible key players... this reality could collapse."

The weight of that truth settled between you like a physical thing. You were a virus in the system, an anomaly that bent reality around your presence until it threatened to snap back with devastating force.

"So," you said, meeting his gaze directly, "where's the final relic?"

Obito was quiet for a long moment, his Sharingan finally still as he processed everything-your honesty, his failure, the revelation that his perfect world was built on a lie. When he spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper.

"The Valley of the End. Where it all began... and where it will all end."

The words carried the weight of prophecy, of destiny finally coming full circle. One more relic. One more truth to face. And then... then you could go home.

But as you looked at Obito's defeated posture, at the way his scarred shoulders sagged with the weight of shattered dreams, you found yourself wondering if going home was really what you wanted anymore.

The thought terrified you more than any enemy you'd ever faced.

The words carried the weight of prophecy, of destiny finally coming full circle. One more relic. One more truth to face. And then... then you could go home.

But as you looked at Obito's defeated posture, at the way his scarred shoulders sagged with the weight of shattered dreams, you found yourself wondering if going home was really what you wanted anymore.

The thought terrified you more than any enemy you'd ever faced.

Obito's head lifted slowly, his mismatched eyes fixing on you with an intensity that made your vectors instinctively coil closer. When he spoke, his voice carried a finality that cut through the dimensional void like a blade.

"When we collect this final relic, and you leave..." He paused, his Sharingan spinning slowly, hypnotically. "I pray you never return. Because if you do, I'll kill you myself."

The threat hung in the air between you, delivered with such cold certainty that it sent a chill down your spine. This wasn't the passionate anger of a spurned lover or the tactical calculation of a betrayed ally. This was something far more dangerous-the promise of a man who had just watched his entire worldview crumble, who had nothing left to lose and everything to hate.

You stared at him, searching his scarred face for any trace of the man who had shared quiet moments with you in hot springs, who had fought beside you against impossible odds. But that person seemed as distant as the relics' home dimension now, buried beneath layers of renewed bitterness and cold resolve.

"Noted," you said finally, your voice carefully neutral despite the way your heart hammered against your ribs. The fourth relic pulsed within your vectors, its nen energy suddenly feeling less like salvation and more like a countdown timer.

One more relic. One more truth. And then you'd discover whether Obito's promise was mere posturing or a vow he intended to keep.

The Valley of the End awaited, and with it, the final chapter of whatever strange story had begun the moment you'd crashed into this world of shinobi and shadows.

Chapter Text

The journey to the Valley of the End stretched in oppressive silence, broken only by the sound of your footsteps on cracked earth and the occasional whisper of wind through barren trees. Obito walked several paces ahead, his posture rigid with barely contained tension. His threat still hung between you like a sword waiting to fall, transforming what should have been your moment of triumph into something that felt dangerously close to a funeral march.

You'd tried dimensional travel, but Obito had refused to use his Kamui, claiming he needed to "conserve chakra for what's coming." You suspected it was really because he couldn't bear the thought of sharing that intimate space with you again, knowing what you now knew about each other.

The silence was driving you insane.

"So," you said, injecting false cheer into your voice as you jogged to catch up with him, "this is fun. Very dramatic. Very 'final boss approaching' energy." Your vectors swirled nervously around you, four relics pulsing within their protective embrace. "Are we going for brooding and mysterious, or should I start making apocalypse jokes?"

Obito didn't respond, his scarred profile set in stone as he continued his methodical march toward destiny.

"Come on, Obi-one. At least give me something to work with here." You walked backward in front of him, forcing him to either acknowledge you or walk through you. "The strong silent type only works if you're actually strong and not just having an emotional breakdown in slow motion."

His Sharingan flickered once—the only indication he'd heard you at all.

You sighed dramatically, switching tactics. "Before I leave, can we have one more round? Like the hot spring?" The question came out more vulnerable than you'd intended, memories of steam and scarred skin and unexpected tenderness making your chest tight.

Obito stiffened, his footsteps faltering for just a moment before resuming their steady rhythm. "That was a mistake."

"No, it wasn't." The certainty in your voice surprised even you.

"It changed nothing."

You studied his profile, noting the way his jaw clenched, the slight tremor in his scarred fingers. "Clearly."

The Valley of the End opened before you like a wound in the earth—two massive statues facing each other across a churning waterfall, their stone faces worn by time but still radiating the power of legends. Madara and Hashirama, locked in eternal combat, their battle serving as the perfect backdrop for whatever final confrontation awaited.

At the base of Madara's statue, a crystalline shrine similar to the others but somehow more complete, more final, caught your attention. The fifth relic waited within, its nen energy calling to its scattered siblings with increasing urgency.

But you weren't alone.

"Well, well," Deidara's voice echoed across the valley as he descended from above, clay birds swirling around him like deadly confetti. "Looks like we all had the same idea, un yeah!"

Kisame emerged from the waterfall itself, water streaming from his massive form as Samehada twitched eagerly on his back. "The final relic. How poetic that it should be here, where legends are born and die."

Hidan sauntered out from behind Hashirama's statue, dragging his scythe with casual menace. "About fucking time! Lord Jashin's been getting impatient for more sacrifices!"

Obito's posture shifted subtly, his Sharingan already analyzing threats and calculating responses. "You're too late. The relic belongs to us."

"Belongs to you?" Deidara laughed, his hands already working clay into familiar shapes. "Art doesn't belong to anyone, Tobi! It exists to be appreciated in the moment of its destruction, un!"

"Actually," Kisame said with his shark-like grin, "I think it belongs to whoever can take it. Survival of the fittest and all that."

The battle erupted without further warning.

Deidara's clay birds screamed through the air in coordinated waves, each one a miniature work of explosive art. Hidan charged with berserker fury, his scythe carving wild arcs as he sought blood for his ritual. Kisame moved with fluid precision, Samehada extending toward Obito with hungry intent.

But Obito was ready.

He phased through Hidan's wild swing with contemptuous ease, allowing the Jashinist to crash face-first into solid stone. Deidara's explosions passed harmlessly through his intangible form, detonating against the valley walls in spectacular but ineffective displays. Even Kisame's chakra-draining strikes found only empty air as Obito danced between dimensions with practiced grace.

"Is that all?" Obito asked coolly, materializing behind Kisame and forcing the shark-man to twist away from a kunai that appeared from nowhere. "I expected more from Akatsuki's survivors."

While he handled the three with insulting ease, you had eyes only for the shrine. The fifth relic pulsed within, its nen signature so familiar it made your heart ache. Time to end this.

You raised your hands, feeling for the iron in blood, the liquid that carried life through every body. Deidara was mid-laugh, preparing another massive explosion. Kisame was circling for another attack. Hidan was picking himself up from the rubble, cursing creatively.

"Stop," you said simply.

And they did.

Your blood-bending wrapped around them like invisible chains, seizing control of the very fluid that kept them alive. Deidara's clay birds fell from suddenly nerveless fingers as you forced him to his knees, his body betraying him at the cellular level. Kisame's eyes widened in professional appreciation even as his massive frame crumpled under your control. Hidan fought the hardest, his immortal constitution raging against the constraint, but even he eventually submitted.

"What the fuck is this?" Hidan snarled, spittle flying from his lips as he struggled against your hold. "Some kind of heretical bloodline bullshit?"

"This is actually quite impressive," Kisame admitted, his voice strained but respectful. "I can feel you in my very veins. A predator's technique if I've ever experienced one."

"Un yeah! This is totally unfair!" Deidara protested, though his usual manic energy was dampened by the uncomfortable realization that his body was no longer his own. "Art is supposed to be free! You can't just control the artist like clay!"

You walked past them toward the shrine, maintaining your hold with casual ease. The final relic called to you—a sphere of crystallized starlight that pulsed with the rhythm of your own heartbeat.

"Why are you even after these things?" you asked as you grasped the fifth relic. "What do you think they'll do for you?"

"Power, obviously!" Hidan spat, still fighting your control. "Ultimate authority over life and death!"

"Wishes," Kisame said pragmatically. "The legends speak of artifacts that grant the holder's deepest desire."

"Art!" Deidara declared with passion. "The ultimate explosion, un! A canvas that encompasses all of reality, yeah!"

You looked back at them with something approaching pity. "You're all wrong. They don't grant power or wishes or cosmic art. They open a portal back to my world. That's it. A way home for someone who doesn't belong here."

The silence was deafening. Even their hostility seemed to deflate at the mundane reality.

"A... portal?" Deidara's voice was small, deflated. "That's it, un?"

"How disappointingly mundane," Kisame sighed.

Hidan just screamed incoherently.

Satisfied they were no longer hostile, you released your blood-bending hold. The three Akatsuki members slumped but made no move to attack, too stunned by the anticlimactic truth.

"Obito," you called. "The other four relics."

His Kamui opened, depositing the remaining artifacts at your feet. As the five relics came together, they began to resonate in perfect harmony, their combined nen energy tearing a hole in reality itself.

The portal that formed was breathtaking—a swirling vortex of impossible colors showing a bird's eye view of a sprawling city far below. Towering skyscrapers reached toward a sky that held familiar constellations, and somewhere in that urban maze, the life you'd lost waited.

York New City. Home.

"Well," you said, turning to face your unlikely audience, "goodbye, I guess."

You walked over to Deidara  "I'm keeping the cloak, by the way. It goes with everything."

"The hell you are!" Deidara protested, but didn't move to stop you.

"If you ever come back," Kisame said quietly, "we'll kill you. Nothing personal."

"Same goes for me, you heretical bitch!" Hidan added with feeling.

"Gotcha," you replied cheerfully.

Finally, you turned to Obito. His mismatched eyes watched you with an intensity that made your chest tight. "I'm going to miss you," you said, the words coming out more sarcastic and teasing than truthful, though the truth lurked beneath. "Try not to destroy the world while I'm gone, yeah?"

"Don't ever come back," he said, his voice carrying that familiar cold finality. "I meant what I said. If you return, I'll kill you myself."

You grinned, backing toward the portal as its pull grew stronger. "I love you too, Obi-one."

Without waiting for his reaction, you fell backward into the swirling vortex, still facing them as the portal began to close. The last thing you saw was Obito's shocked expression, Deidara and Hidan's confused faces, and Kisame's amused grin.

Then you were falling through open sky, the portal sealing itself above you as the five relics crumbled to dust in the wind.

"Well, that was dramatic," you muttered, flipping around to face the rapidly approaching cityscape below. Your vectors shot out, latching onto the nearest skyscraper and swinging you down toward the streets in a controlled descent that would have made Spider-Man jealous.

Your feet touched concrete for the first time in what felt like years, and immediately your phone began buzzing incessantly. Signal. Glorious, wonderful signal.

The notifications flooded in—messages dating back to your disappearance. Mission schedules from Chrollo. Increasingly angry group texts asking why you were skipping heists. Worried messages when you failed to respond. And finally, resignation as the Troupe assumed you were dead.

The final message was recent—a rendezvous point for tonight, coordinates to an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of the city.

You smiled, adjusting Deidara's stolen Akatsuki cloak around your shoulders. A surprise visit to the Phantom Troupe sounded perfect. After all, you had quite a story to tell—and a certain little mouse named Feitan to properly greet.

Time to go home.

Chapter Text

The abandoned warehouse squatted in the industrial district like a concrete tumor, its broken windows staring out at the neon-lit cityscape beyond. You approached through the shadows, Deidara's stolen Akatsuki cloak billowing dramatically behind you as your vectors mapped the familiar energy signatures inside. All of them. The entire surviving Phantom Troupe, gathered in one place.

Your heart hammered against your ribs—not from fear, but from an anticipation so sharp it was almost painful. After months in a world of chakra and shinobi politics, after fighting Kage and stealing abilities and falling for a scarred terrorist, you were finally back where you belonged.

The warehouse door creaked as you pushed it open, revealing the makeshift meeting space within. Shipping containers had been arranged into a rough circle, with old crates serving as seats. In the center, a single fluorescent light cast harsh shadows across faces you'd thought you might never see again.

Machi looked up first, her pink hair catching the light as those sharp blue eyes fixed on you with characteristic directness. "Look who's not dead," she said dryly, though you caught the faintest hint of relief beneath her usual stoicism.

Feitan's head snapped toward the entrance, his dark eyes narrowing as he took in your disheveled appearance. The Akatsuki cloak, the way you moved with new confidence, the subtle changes that months in another dimension had wrought. "You're late," he said simply, though his hand rested on the hilt of his sword with familiar readiness.

You grinned, striding into the circle with exaggerated casualness. "Did you miss me, mouse?" The pet name rolled off your tongue like honey, sweet and deliberately provocative.

"Don't call me that," Feitan sneered, but you caught the way his shoulders relaxed fractionally. He'd missed you, even if admitting it would probably kill him.

Franklin's massive frame shifted on his makeshift seat, the gentle giant's scarred face showing rare emotion. "We thought you were dead. You've been gone for eight months."

"Eight months?" You blinked in surprise. Time flowed differently between dimensions, apparently. What had felt like weeks in the shinobi world had been the better part of a year here.

Phinks cracked his knuckles, the sound echoing in the warehouse.

"Thought you decided to go solo," Bonolenov added from his position near the wall, his wrapped form radiating quiet accusation.

Kalluto sat perfectly still, his  eyes studying you with unnerving intensity. "Your nen feels... different. Contaminated."

Before you could respond to that particularly accurate observation, Chrollo cleared his throat. The sound was soft, but it commanded immediate attention. Every member of the Troupe turned toward their leader, and you felt the familiar weight of his presence settle over the room like a blanket.

He didn't ask where you'd been. Didn't demand explanations or express relief at your return. He simply looked at you with those dark, depthless eyes and waited. The silent question hung in the air like incense: *Where have you been?*

And that's when you launched into the most epic rant of your entire existence.

"Oh boy, do I have a story for you!" You began pacing around the circle, your vectors unconsciously extending as excitement took hold. "So get this—I got sucked into another dimension. A whole different world with these things called shinobi who use this energy called chakra and they have these really stupid politics and—"

"Another dimension?" Shizuka's soft voice interrupted, though she was immediately shushed by the others who wanted to hear the full story.

"Yes! A dimension with ninjas! Real ninjas, not the historical kind. And they had these leaders called Kage who were super powerful, so naturally I had to kill three of them." You gestured dramatically, loving the way Phinks' eyebrows shot up. "I got the Raikage's lightning jutsu—" Blue electricity crackled along your vectors to demonstrate. "—and Ōnoki's cube molecular disintegration thing that can turn people into dust."

Machi leaned forward slightly, her professional interest piqued. "Molecular disintegration?"

"Oh yeah, super useful for cleanup. But wait, there's more!" You practically bounced with excitement. "I also stole my most favoritest, favoritest stolen ability ever!" Without warning, you leaned heavily on Feitan's head, using him as an armrest while he sat perfectly still with murderous intent radiating from every pore.

"Don't touch me," he snarled, his sword clearing its sheath in a silver blur aimed directly at your torso.

The blade passed harmlessly through your body as if you were made of mist, even though you remained perfectly visible. Feitan's eyes widened in shock as his attack found nothing but air.

"KAMUI!" you sang in a voice full of glee, doing a little spin that made Deidara's stolen cloak flutter. "I can become intangible now! Isn't that amazing?"

A collective groan rose from several Troupe members. Phinks buried his face in his hands. "Just great. That's exactly what we need," he said with heavy sarcasm, clearly imagining all the chaos you could cause with such an ability. "As if you weren't already impossible to catch when you decide to cause trouble."

"It *is* great!" you protested, manifesting a small portal in the air above your palm. "I can open portals to the Kamui dimension now! We can store our booty there—because we're like pirates, you know?"

Chrollo's lips twitched upward in what might have been amusement. "Pirates," he repeated thoughtfully. "An interesting analogy." His dark eyes gleamed with the kind of calculation that usually preceded spectacular heists. "Speaking of dimensions..."

He reached into his coat and withdrew something that made your blood run cold. A crystalline relic, roughly the size of your fist, pulsing with an energy signature that was sickeningly familiar. Not nen—something else. Something that definitely didn't belong in this world.

"We recently acquired this during a heist in the ancient ruins beneath Yorknew," Chrollo continued conversationally, turning the relic over in his pale hands. "The previous owner claimed it was a portal device of some kind. Rather coincidental timing, wouldn't you say?"

You stiffened, your vectors unconsciously coiling into defensive positions. "That's... that's bad luck," you said quietly, memories of five similar relics and their devastating power flooding back. "Chrollo, you need to put that down. Right now."

But even as the words left your mouth, you felt it—the subtle shift in the air that meant imminent violence. A presence that made your skin crawl with recognition and unwanted familiarity.

"Oh my," a silky voice purred from the shadows near the warehouse entrance. "How delightfully unexpected."

Hisoka stepped into the light like a predator emerging from tall grass, his colorful outfit a jarring contrast to the industrial setting. In his hand, a playing card spun lazily between his fingers—but this wasn't his usual casual flourish. His golden eyes were fixed on the relic in Chrollo's hand with an intensity that made your stomach clench.

"I do so hate to interrupt a reunion," Hisoka continued, his voice dripping with false courtesy, "but I'm afraid I simply must have that little trinket."

The card left his fingers with inhuman speed, slicing through the air toward its target. Time seemed to slow as you watched it arc toward the relic, your enhanced reflexes screaming warnings that came too late to matter.

"NO!" you shouted, lunging forward with vectors extended, but the distance was too great.

The card struck the crystalline surface with a sound like breaking glass.

And the world exploded into light.

The relic's stored energy erupted outward in a blinding cascade of interdimensional power, washing over the assembled Phantom Troupe like a tsunami of pure force. You felt reality fracture around the edges, dimensional barriers growing thin as the artifact's power sought an outlet.

Through the chaos of light and energy, you caught fragmentary glimpses of your fellow Troupe members—Feitan's shocked expression, Machi's instinctive defensive stance, Chrollo's calm acceptance even as chaos consumed his carefully ordered world.

The last thing you saw before the light consumed everything was Hisoka's maniacal grin, his golden eyes bright with anticipation as the dimensional rift expanded to engulf them all.

*Not again,* you thought desperately as consciousness faded. *Please, not again.*

But the universe, it seemed, had other plans.

The warehouse dissolved into brilliant white nothingness, taking the Phantom Troupe—and you—into whatever strange new reality awaited on the other side of Hisoka's impulsive violence.

Some things, apparently, never changed.

And some adventures were just beginning.

**THE END**

---

*To be continued in the next dimension...*