Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

World's Greatest Ninja

Chapter one.

I Have Seen Much.

Obito was so done with this place it wasn't even funny.

Yes. He had admittedly suffered through the Honeymoon period of his culture shock first. Through the general all encompassing numbness and apathy he had been impressed by the buildings. By the funny clothes. All the different kind of shoes and socks people here felt the need to wear. And behold, a souvenir shop!

This happy pediod of awe and wonder had lasted roughly eight minutes. Then the frustration and rage had set in.

The trees were wrong! The air was wrong! Even his chakra felt wrong. But he really didn't feel like examining that further in such an open place. People here were all dumb fucks so at least that one thing had stayed the same.

But still it needed repeating people here were so very stupid. And weak. There was no politer way of phrasing it.

Obito had not been in any particular mood to disguise himself as a harmless civilian as he had examined his raggedy (and tragically alive) appearance. Both of his hands busy tugging at his hair which was not familiar, inky black nor was it chalky white but bright purple of all the damn possible colours. It made Obito idly wonder if he was being pranked. He certainly felt like a punchline of some giant cosmic joke.

Obito had settled on grimacing and resisting the urge to rip it all of his hair off.

It had only gotten better when he had tried to haul his exhausted ass up only to promptly fall on his face. In a puddle.

His limbs felt cold and shaky and about three sizes too small. His breathing was shallow and his head Felt dizzy. All classic signs of impeding chakra exhaustion. No matter. Recovery could wait, he wanted to get his bearings first. And he was used to bullying himself through pain and suffering. This was less than nothing.

He managed to walk out of the alleyway that had been his temporal haven and put on a passive enough face to not let out how shitty he was feeling.

That was when the stupidity of the general populace became painfully apparent.

Flocks of random people started whispering around him. Trying to steal glances at him in a ''subtle manner. '' Some just outright staring.

Then some random Mr.Civilian had stepped next to him, and the idiotic questions had started.

'' Was he alright? Did he need any help? Would he like to, perhaps, call someone? " Obito had just stared.

Obito was currently exhausted and dirty and purple, yes. But he was still a damn Ninja. Even without forehead protector, even the most dimwitted civilian child should be able to tell just by looking at his general appearance. His feet made no sound as he walked. He had obviously been in a battle. And half of his face was covered by an ugly scar. He was missing an eye! So that was a rather big hint for the otherwise oblivious idioits. Civilians rarely received scars quite like his. Or had missing eyes.

They should know better than walk up to a ninja without forehead protector. Know better than to start chatting. Better than to regard him with pity.

But apparently not. The dumb questions kept on coming. Obito took a long look at the man's feet. Some sort of leather shoes and socks. He would bet that they all wore socks. Obito fucking hated this place.

It was humiliating that it actually took some effort on his part to get rid of the flock of noisy idiots. Those were sixty seconds that he would never get back again.

Now then. First things first. He needed to go higher to asses his current location. So he naturally finds the tallest building and starts climbing. This turns out to be even more humiliating exercise than escaping from dimwitted civilians.

His chakra feels slippery. Slippery and heavy and unwieldy in a way it hasn't Felt since he first learned how to mold chakra. It suddenly takes actual concentration to direct it to his arms and legs. To make it move.

Instead of smoothly jumping to a wall and sticking there, he ends up sliding down and almost falling on his ass. His second attempt is more successful although instead of his feet he is hanging on the wall by his arms alone. Like some first year academy student.

He grits his teeth and tries to will the red on his cheeks away. Somewhere in the infinity of time and space. Eight-year old Kakashi is sneering at him, he just knows it.  

He swiftly climbs higher and higher like a stupid civilian-born academy student. He is not sure if he can blame the nearing chakra exhaustion for this utterly humiliating need to use his hands to climb. He has chakra. Little. And it's being uncooperative.

He's half heartedly trying to solve the mystery of it when people get loud down on the ground.

When he glances down, he can't help but raise an eyebrow at the fuss people are making for some reason. The hell are they pointing for? Have they never seen a grown ass Ninja scale a building on the oldfashioned way before? Trying not to look too embarrassed, he swings his way from one balcony to higher one. Someone actually screams at that. And people keep 'aah' and 'ooh' ing at him. They are either making fun of him or folks here are just that bored that his stupid spectacle is enough to impress them.

He does not for a moment stop to consider that perhaps they have never seen an actual Shinobi before.

Setting his feet on the roof doesn't reveal much new info. Unfamiliar place with unfamiliar buildings and people. This city is like Ame. If Ame had more greenery and was ruled by boring civilians with dull imagination. Not a one metal statue sticking their tongue out in sight. No seals. No random platforms to land on. No ropes for ninja to walk on between the buildings. It's all very… dull.

Obito gets distracted when someone starts screaming at him on the ground level.

Some man who looks like he might be police officer of some kind is waving his fist at Obito. Clearly gesturing for him to come the fuck down. Obito ignores him and watches in mild interest as the man's face turns alarming shade of red and the fist waving intensifies.

He waits a moment. The police Officer doesn't climb after him. No one does. They all stay on the ground and stare like Obito has done something highly unusual and extraordinarily dangerous.

Something that feels distantly like worry starts to creep in. A city like this should have a sizeable ninja population but Obito can't spot any who look like they'd fit the part. That means they are all so well hidden that Obito can not spot even one or there are no Ninja here in the first Place.

Both options have their good and bad sides. And both options give him a sense of paranoia that makes him want to retreat somewhere relatively quiet and safe.

Making his way over the rooftops is another exercise in constant frustration. He needs to watch himself and his footing when he jumps. The distance his weary muscles propel him over, much smaller than he is used to, the roof tiles unexpectedly slippery when he can't stick to them with the usual amount of chakra. People keep flinching when his shadow glides over them. Even though usually civilians rarely even bother to lift their heads when a Ninja jumps over them.

"They are not used to this," Obito muses and runs.

It takes him roughly thirty-six minutes to realise that he's in a different World. That's when the apathy and crazier cousin of amusement set in.

It's quite different. This World. This reality. And just as shitty as his old one. Just in a new shining way. Obito is filled with disgust towards the human race.

This World is better in some ways. There are massive amounts of free information for anyone to just take and learn as much as they wished. For Obito who had been born in a World where any kind of useful information was hoarded and hidden, or destroyed or falsified if at all possible, this was mind blowing.

It also felt like a huge mistake just waiting to happen but perhaps his upbringing had made him biased toward the subject. All the free information did make it much easier to understand this World. How assimilate himself into it. How to act normal.

There was a fuckton of things that kept surprising him. Apparently there were multiple different languages. Like that was a thing.

The language he spoke was apparently called japanese here. Which was spoken in Japan. An Island country in some sea that Obito couldn't bother to remember the name of.

That he could only speak to a small population of this world's people felt pitifully little when he was used to being able to do it with everyone old enought to speak.

After Small amount of research, he concluded that a language called English seemed to be in very wide amount of use. That and Mandarin chinese. Which seemed to be related to the language he was already speaking… somehow? There was nothing much left to do than to shut up and study. Not his greatest talent if his hazy memories of Academy days were to be believed. He made sure to cheat with his Sharingan as much as possible.

Which was not as much as he wished for because his chakra worked like shit in this World.

It had taken him over a month to recover from his chakra exhaustion. Over. A fucking. Month.

He remembers dying. Distantly. Vaguely. But he remembers falling into tiny pieces and dying as someone held him.

"Kakashi"

He had sat down and started to mold chakra in his stomach. An act so familiar and easier than breathing. He should have been able to do it in his sleep.

Instead his chakra Network system… had gone positively wonky. He wrestles with chakra exercises for an panicked hour. Prods and pokes at the familiar energy inside his coils. It's subtle but after some searching he notices something strange. Something extra that wasn't there before.

His physical chakra feels normal. It acts normal. It moves to his stomach to be molded as normal. But his spiritual chakra… It has gone slightly weird.

Like it's on fire.

He tries to make it move. And it does but it's sluggish. Out of whack and sharper somehow. Like a familiar song, sung in a different tempo. Obito has difficulties keeping up.

But still. This is such a vital part of him. Part that has stayed with him when all the rest have gone broken or disappeared.

He coaxes and wrestles with it. The energy moves better inside of him when he is resolute. It seems to respond to strong feelings best.

So he pushed down the familiar cold apathy in his chest and remembers at the familiar faces he saw in the war. The very last- The last face he saw-

He'd like to see it again.

It takes him a whole slow second to realize he has set himself on fire.

He flinches like some idiot genin. The fire doesn't hurt, and that's generally bad. That means the nerves are too dead to feel anything.

But he does feel something. The flames are warm where they lick his fingers without hurting him. All mixed shades of purple and orange.

More purple. Fine. Fuck it. He can deal with purple. Color his whole damn World purple, why don't you. Obito can deal with it.

But Orange.

This shade is not like fire. Not really. It's more like a young man's jacket. More like a dead child's goggles. And it burns Obito inside so much more than real fire ever could.

Yeah. He does not care for orange.

His current apartment is a Small and dark and painfully modest place. He has not bothered with comfort items but there is a medium sized mirror that came with the apartment hanging on a wall.

He does not care for mirrors. Does not like looking into them. Is often unsettled by what he sees and thus he avoids them whenever he can. But this is more important than silly feelings like comfort and so he forces himself look at his mangled face. How it's same and different.

He looks younger, he's fairly sure. His age stopped mattering countless years ago, but he can't deny his cheeks look little softer and rounder. His single eye is slightly wider and the same purple shade as his hair. He pokes at his scarred cheek with a finger and looks at the limb. How it's shorter more willowy. While the fingers are still as callused and scarred as they have ever been. But the color of the skin while pale is not the disgusting paper white of Zetsu's.

He has not tried to use Mokuton. He has not had enough chakra for it and now he doubts if he even can anymore.

He forces his wildfire of a chakra into his eye and shuts it in pain. There's salt water on his cheek, falling down, he ignores it with dignity.

The eye staring back at him in the mirror is red with a single tomoe. Like an eye of a child who died long ago.

There's blank moment in time where he doesn't move. Doesn't think of anything. Just exist in this horrible reality.

Then he takes the mirror from the Wall, opens a window and hurls the damn thing out. There's a sharp cry of pain from below and someone starts swearing. It makes him feel only minimally better.

Fuck this all. Fuck all the character growth and personal breakthroughs he made during the war. They just got hurled out of the window alongside with his mirror. He can't stand being himself right now. He doesn't want to be anyone.

So he wastes his meager, infernally slowly growing chakra suply on a minor genjutsu. He wraps it around himself. Just a Black hooded robe and a dull colorless mask. No need for any designs or swirls or clouds. He just wants to disappear.

He slumps down on the floor and contemplates about death.

Then his door is kicked in with a loud 'bang' and in marches a pissed off looking, blue-eyed clone of Minato-sensei (because-of-fucking-course!).

"Oi, Kora! Were you the bastard who threw a fucking mirror at me!"

His shattered mirror is being waved angrily above him in a very threatening manner. It's cracked beyond repair but he can still see his masked face being reflected back.

Obito wonders if he just ignores this person hard enough, will he go away?

"Oi, Fuckface! I'm talking to you! Don't ignore me, kora!"The stupid blue eyes glare down at him. Trying to catch his eye(s) behind his mask.

This blond moran obviously has a stupid verbal tick. Because when it's not a damn catchphrase, it's a stupid verbal tick. Of. Fucking. 'Course.

Obito is too busy playing that he doesn't exist to answer any of this dumb fuck's questions.

He's perhaps doing it too well when the anger starts to ebb away, replaced by disgusted concern.

"You are not dead, are you?"

Obito Still doesn't move. Not even when the tosser nudges at him with his booted foot. His meditative state of repeatedly thinking 'fuckofffuckofffuckoff''
on a loop has calming properties. How exciting.

What's less exiting is when the clone bows over him and reaches for his mask, apparently wanting to take it off.

'Yeah, nope.' It's slightly funny how the blond clone flinches when Obito grabs him by the wrist, snake quick and squeezes.

"Kora! Let go bastard! The hell for are you laying on the floor for anyway?"

Obito kind of wants to snap this intruders wrist bones into pieces but just can't dig up enough energy to be bothered.

So he let's go and says, "Death and despair."

The idiot blinks. "What?"

"I was thinking death and despair." Obito pauses. "Not necessarily in that order mind."

"Riiight…" The blond squints at him, eyebrows raised, looking highly judgemental.

"You depressed or something?"

That's absurd.

"That's absurd." Obito blurts out. "Ninja don't get depressed."

"Uh-huh." Blondie raises his eyebrows higher and manages to look even more judgemental. "So you are a ninja now?"

"Of course." Obito frowns behind his illusionary mask. "Is it not obvious?"

If the clone tries to raise his eyebrows any higher Obito fears they will fly off.

"Okay. Sure. Whatever you say, kora. But this-!" The clone slams the mirror down like its a particularly heavy piece of condeming evidence.

"This is what I came to talk about, kora! What the hell did you throw a mirror at me for asshole!"

Obito is laying down in an undignified heap, and his face is hidden, so he makes extra sure his condescending tones are perfectly clear.

"I wasn't even aiming at you. How is it my problem if you can't dodge."

There's a vein throbbing on the clone's temple. And now that he looks closer, also a rather handsome sized bruise.

Obito feels slightly cheered up.

But whatever. The blondie curses at Obito long and hard and flips a bird at him before he storms off the same way he came.

But not before hurling the cracked mirror at Obito's face.

Chapter Text

Chapter Two

The mirror was cracked beyond repair. Fractured, ugly pieces hanging onto frames out of pure spite. Obito could respect that. So it was with equal amount of spite that he hinged the damn thing back on the wall, sneering at his own reflection unhappily.

What now?

As done with the world as he was and as utterly useless as it felt to keep on breathing… he wasn't really one to turn to self-slaughter.
Not in the cave and certainly not here.

Besides suicide was more of Kakashi's shtick.

This World was strange. Incomprehensible. As much as he had spent his life deluding himself of peaceful World, the reality was uncomfortable and unsettling as always.

All life is precious seemed to be the standard. In the richer, more settled countries at least. Forgive Obito but… what?

Comrade's life was precious and worth protecting. Client's life was precious because they would give you money. Random Mr. Civilian's life was "precious" the same way bird's or rabbit's life was precious. You shouldn't kill it unless you had to. Enemy's life wasn't worth even that.

Funnily enough against a strong enemy death became almost like an honor to be bestowed upon. There were very few insults greater than your enemy sparing you. Like you weren't even worth the effort it took to kill.

There was balance to it. If that old fart Third could be believed. He had liked to make the same droning speech during every Chunin Exam. About balance. About how it was akin to friendship in their bloodstained world.

That was reality. That made sense. It didn't matter if he wished otherwise. No matter how much he had labored and sacrificed it had made no difference. Only in dreams could there be peace.

And yet these idiotic, fussy, banal, run-of-the-mill civilians boldly claimed in their texts that they had achieved a peaceful world.

Obito chose to remain highly skeptical.

There were crumbled newspapers littering his floor. Books and random papers laying on every flat surface.

Knowledge was the first thing he needed to increase. He had done his best to get on the level where he knew the things that 'everyone' was supposed to know, and if all else failed, Obito could bullshit like nobody's business. In the civilian world he would manage easily enough.

But that was just the civilian world, wasn't it? All law-abiding people that did not even carry a blade upon their side. No senbon needles. Not even a tiny little shuriken. Looking at the masses of shining non-violent people made one question more and more apparent.

Where have all the troublemakers gone?

Sure there were cracks even on the surface of this peace. Petty thugs and criminals. Organisations born just for the more unsavory business. Almost like Ninja-Clans. But that would only be the tip of the icebereg wouldn't it?

Obito did not for one single second believe that this shining world did not have its own share of fucked up induviduals lurking in the shadows. All it took was one trauma. One unfortunate tragic death. And off the rails that law-abiding train would go. Obito knew. He had learned at Madara's knee how to twist those rails to his likings.

"There is darkness inside people," the old Shinobi had told Obito in nights long gone by. Both of his eyes, the seeing and the unseeing, half-lidded. "And if there is no darkness inside, you can just put it there."

And when there was one there were more. Many, many more. Darkness liked to spread. You would lovingly teach it to your children.

And between these two worlds Obito knew very well where he truly belonged.

During his plentiful spare time, Obito had taken to stalking some shady individuals across the globe in hopes of finding more of their ilk. It had not taken long for him to stumble across a gathering in a shady bub in Berlin. Full of smug looking people in fancy clothes and -even better- weapons under them!

He had eavesdropped for the better part of the night. Hidden under a low level genjustu. Just another face in the crowd. Among the mix- smash of several different languages, what he finally managed to uncover did not surprise him in the least.

This world's underground Criminal Activity was amazingly well organized and arranged almost like a separate culture, hidden under the layer of normality. There did seem to be some special requirements to be part of this 'culture'. Just general disregard for the law did not seem to be enough.

What the specific requirements were, remained a mystery. His own lack of knowledge on the local slang was frustrating. Especially when people suddenly knowingly started snickering about weather patterns and colours. A code?

There had been a mention of flames. Just a single, brief mention but it had made Obito intrigued.

Resolving to put his extensive knowledge of stalki- espionage into better use in the future, he had slipped away into the night before his pathetic amount of chakra started to be in danger of running out.

Laying on his apartment's dusty floor, he came to a single conclusion.

Work. He would need to find work. More for the sake of gathering information than money. But both were always welcome and pickpocketing was starting to get tedious as hell.

Finding work would not be a problem. Life as a Ninja left you with multiple skills, varying from babysitting to assassination.

Finding work that would be worth his time as well as tolerably profitable would be little more challenging. Not to mention that in order to cover as much ground as possible on his self-appointed recon mission, he would need to get two jobs.

One normal, civilian one. And one not so normal civilian one. Naturally, he would wear a disguise for both of them. No need to get sloppy just because he wasn't in Elemental nations anymore.

Paper rustling, Obito narrowed his eye in annoyance.

The job offering selection in the civilian sector fucking sucked. D-Rank after D-Rank. Sure he could clean and wait on tables but how long before he murdered someone out of sheer boredom and apathy.

The only job that had looked even mildly interesting had been a stunt-acting gig for some never-heard-who-cares-action movie.

The job requirements in a nutshell were: Try not to die while we do our best to make it look like you get maimed, set on fire and hurled off a Cliff among many other fine and fun things. :D

There was actual smiley face at the end. Obito was mildly impressed.

If it had been a regular acting gig, he would have ignored it completely but as far as he knew stunt acting would require him to keep his face hidden and turned away from the cameras, which suited him perfectly.

He made a decision to actually show up for the audition.

But first he needs a civilian disguise.

He does not want to be Tobi for this but… maybe something little similar? Loud mouthed fools got underestimated and overlooked so wonderfully easily.

His wildly misbehaving chakra limits him further. In the good old days he could have easily gone as fucking first Hokage, if he had so fancied. Not so much anymore.

It was not the smaller amount of chakra that was the problem. Academy students could pull off a decent henge, at least for a little while.

His control, while slightly better than in the beginning, was still absolutely pathetic. His twelve-year old self could have done better. The fire kept messing things up. It kept contaminating his pure chakra!

As long as he made only minor changes in his appearance he would be able to make the disguise last longer. He would need to experiment more with the colorful fire to make sure just how to keep it under control.

The only useful thing he had discovered so far, was that the purple fire could make objects grow bigger at rapid speed when inserted. The effect was temporary and the objects would return back to original size once the flames were removed.

Very interesting. If nothing else he could use them for bukinjutsu. He had gotten used to fighting with Madara's ridiculously sized Gunbai. If he acquired a normal sized one and only made it large for battles… Carrying it around would be much easier not to mention there would be the delicious element of surprise. He could do the same with a scythe. Disguise it as jewelry perhaps?

The orange could make stuff turn to stone. Rather brittle stone at that. He would use it more if he wasn't so put out by its general existence. It made him feel better to leave the orange alone.

It was fairly well behaved fire anyway. More mellow than his damn purple one, easier to keep under the lid, if you will.

Closing off that line of thought Obito considered his civilian disguise.

A smooth pretty face of course. Bright-eyed civilian boys didn't have faces like his.

And speaking of eyes, he could get an eyepatch. It would be easier in the long run than waste effort on moving an eye that was not there. If his lack of an eye became a problem, he could bullshit his way out and claim he wore it for fashion and such nonsense. God knew none of the people Obito had seen to wear eyepatches had actually been missing eyes in the end. Crafty fucks all of them. Danzo most of all.

He could make a small Seal to store chakra into and keep the genjutsu on place without conscious effort. Like a tattoo. It would have to be simple as hell. Seals were not his strong suite.

That would have to do for the face. As for the clothes… what did young people these days like to wear?

This was starting to get annoying. Obito resolved to get something cringe worthy that Deidara or Hidan would like to wear and call it a day. A loudmouthed moron was the goal here and both of them had certainly been that. Add in some emo jewelry while he was at it. Even Itachi had liked his stupid necklace. There was clearly something wrong with their age-group.

And lastly a name. No need for anything deep or meaningful. There was no one here who would get his inside jokes and simple was the way to go. Something Punk bitches like Deidara or Hidan might think is cool.

He cooed at his cracked reflection. "Skull is a good boy-."

He may have overdone it with the bling. And the clothes. Aaand the lipstick. Just a little bit.

He wasn't in the mood to regret it, however. The disturbed glances he kept getting from the ''fellow stunt actors'' were hilarious. Few even kept side-eyeing his eyepatch in disgust. They were so amusing!

And that was before he opened his mouth and pitched his voice shrill and loud.

The flinches were beautiful.

"YEEEEES, SKULL-SAMA IS PRESENT! READY TO GET MAIMED! READY TO BE SET ON FIRE! READY TO-"

"That's the right attitude young man!" A portly looking man. The director(?) praises and flashed a thumb up in Skull's general direction. Not at all flustered by his flailing.

"That's the right kind of enthusiasm that we are looking for! None of the unsafe work environment whiny shit I have been hearing all day!"

Turns out the director(?) is an utter lunatic. The civilians are actually in all reality getting hurled off a Cliff (among other fun things) and Skull ends up getting the job by the process of elimination as the paramedics cart his fellow actors away. The sobbing is honestly grating and many didn't even fall from that high.

Skull has been having time of his life, running around like dog among pigeons. Jumping and climbing and dodging whenever it became necessary but mostly out of sheer single-minded need to show off. Even if never fully. Skull was bit of braggart it seems.

"Well, that's that then." The director claps his hands together apparently satisfied with the days work.

"You can get your work schedule from the front desk. Tomorrow will be a great day. We'll start with a car chase!"

"Yes Sir!" Skull waves his hands happily in the air, like an excited child. At last minute, he even remembers to smile. "Skull-sama will be the best Stuntman there ever was!"

Obito has never been inside a car in his life but Skull, he decides, would drive like a ingenious maniac. No one would notice the difference.

It was a promising beginning for Skull's career in Stunt acting. It's so easy. He's good at it. Exceptionally good. And the praise it heaps towards him makes him preen in and out of character. Uchiha are all vainglorious bastards, and he was certainly no different.

(They even ask him to moonlight in the nearby Circus! With motorbikes!)

Money is good as well. They pay very well for such delightful work. Apparently there's civilian version of danger pay.

Makes sense. Even with how ridiculous it all is. You show some Chunin level competence and suddenly everyone is calling you The Immortal Stuntman. It's so silly it's endearing.

On that note he had made an interesting discovery when he had slipped slightly while jumping out of a speeding car. He had skinned his knees and hands. Tiny insignificant scratches that had strangely disappeared within seconds. Leaving his skin burning warm.

This had naturally demanded more experimenting. In the privacy of his own home he had casually stabbed at his left hand. Leaving a shallow but ugly wound from his wrist to elbow.

Without any conscious effort on his part, the purple fire started to dance around his wound. The skin knitting together faster than your common med-nin could heal it with iryojutsu. Leaving nothing but smooth warm undamaged skin.

Now that made even Obito stare.

He had turned his hand this way and that way. Glenched his hand into a tight fist before releasing the tension in his fingers, letting them go lax.

It did not hurt at all.

Again!

Stabbing his right thigh gave him the same results. Slightly slower but that could have been caused by the size of the wound being bigger and deeper.

Self-regeneration. And so effortless! It was a welcome surprise after all the shit. This purple flame was really so very useful.

If he could use it internally without much conscious effort on his part, did that mean he could use it on others if he just tried?

Being a Medic had never been a career path for him. Uchiha had too much fire. Better at turning living things to ashes than healing.

But that didn't apply here huh. Healing with fire. How funny. Like a Kekkei Genkai.

He would need to study this aspect of his abilities more. He already knew he could increase things. Was this the same. Was he just increasing the skin to close the wound?

A lifetime ago he had crammed medical texts with Rin to help her prepare for Field medic exams. Perhaps... it was time to start doing that again. Just for his own sake mind.

These powers were truly very mysterious. Better increase his snooping in the more fun parts of the World.

But first. For science! Obito grins widely and stabs himself in the throat.

Staring at the ceiling while his skin burns itself merrily back together he muses that maybe that silly title of his has more truth in it than he knew.

Steali- Buying a Motorcycle had become an unfortunate necessarity.

While he had managed to increase his chakra reserves by half they were still pitifully small and difficult to control. This made the tried and true way of running everywhere… impractical.

Still. Sitting on his new motorbike felt like defeat, somehow. It shouldn't. It was just a useful tool but the fact that he even needed one was… infuriating. Like he was somehow even more of a cripple.

(Well you kind of are, aren't you?)

Skull liked motorbikes, but he wasn't Skull now.

He wasn't Obito either. Nor was he Tobi. Some strange mix between perhaps. With his Akatsuki robes twirling around his ankles and his inky new (old) Black hair framing his masked face.

Perhaps he was Madara now. He didn't know.

No matter. He was here on business. And Madara had such a deep, serious voice. Perfect for shaking information out of weaklings. A useful tool, nothing more.

Parking his motorbike and then hiding it under a genjutsu was only slightly taxing now. His control was getting better and better with time and practice.

It was a mantra he kept telling himself every night.

Thanks to his mask he didn't need to hide his facial expressions and thus let his lips rise in a silent sneer.

Fancy looking Office Building with lights on, on the top floor. He didn't need to see more to know this client was going to be the annoying pompous kind that liked to toss money at problems.

Ah well, that was Still pretty standard in this business and nothing to get his panties in twist. Even in Akatsuki they had done customer Service... to a point (A very sharp point!). Their prices could have been a lot higher if the lot of them hadn't had enough infamy between them to fill entire Fire Country and then some.

But fuck it all if he was going to take the stairs. Letting chakra pool underneath his, sadly toe covering shoes, he jumped and made his way towards the top most window.

It was humiliating enough that he had to go to the client. Clients used to send them their requests from a safe distance away and keep the social aspect at minimum.

But no. He was a newbie in the business, if you can believe it.

It was the young looking face; he suspected. He had made the mistake of taking his first Mission without a mask on, as a some vague notion towards repentance and self-acceptance and such nonsense. THAT had been a mistake.

He kept getting stupid C-Rank missions after that. Which, if you didn't know, are only slightly less inane than D-Ranks.

His mission highlights had included escorting some old tosser from the point A to point B and having to fight some girly-boy who had fancied himself a Taijutsu Master. The bastard had set his fists on red fire (which had been little interesting) and broken Obito's arm.

Obito had retaliated by kicking the ass-hole in the head and taking him by his stupid braid and slamming his face against a wall until he fell unconscious. Lucky for him Obito had a tight Schedule to keep or he would have merrily drowned the girly-boy in a puddle.

The other shining highlight had been when he had been asked to steal military secrets from some no-name-who-cares organization. It had been a relatively simple mission but due to his unfamiliarity with this world's technology he had triggered an alarm when he was leaving and had to use half-a-night to lose some blue haired rabid woman off his tail.

His poor Gunbai was riddled with bullet holes afterwards, and Obito had learned to hate guns with burning passion. The trigger-happy harlot had given him some serious Konan flashbacks.

And never mind that the sudden inclusion of hostile parties would upgrade his mission into a higher grade in normal pricing system (and thus more money) because that would be common sense and that, apparently, was not tolerated here.

He should have included danger pay before the mission. And apparently the prices were fixed once he put them down and he couldn't change them for at least a year. He should have known about such things before hand. And so no extra pay for Obito. Such was how the business was done in the Mafia.

This World sucked so fucking much.

But he was getting lost in his own head, back to present. He slipped inside the dark Office Building and made his way silently towards the dim light. While Kamui would have made slipping in and out so much easier, sneaking in the dark was an ingrained skill that had been hammered in Obito's body the moment he could walk.

So it was no surprise that the grim looking man sitting behind a sturdy desk and the even sturdier looking man behind him, -whose looks practically screamed Bodyguard!-, didn't notice him. A few seconds of observation informed him both men were carrying guns. The boss man was fiddling some papers between his fingers. Most likely containing relevant information towards the mission aaaaand he owned a white cat judging by the state of his coat.

Getting bored to observing Obito slipped from the shadows like he had always been here. "Hewwo."

The flinches, as always, were beautiful.

There were hilarious three seconds when both men went from startled to flustered and back to schooling their faces into a studied indifference. As the case always was with these criminal types, his potential client's eyes traced at the red clouds on his cloak for a moment before lifting them to his mask."Ah, yes. And you must be… was it Mr. Madara?"

Obito had kept switching names on his past missions so the confusion wasn't entirely faked powerplay. Just mostly.

"Suuuure. That name is... it's fine." Obito said sadly, causing the two men to blink at him in confusion. Now if they only would ask what was the matter with him. He had about sixteen different backstories prepared, each one more ridiculous than the other.

Sadly his client was the boring sort. "Well, then, let's get straight to business, shall we? I have heard of you from Mr. Marsh. He praised you deeply for your martial arts and being I quote "A fucking ruthless bastard, that one." I have an assassination job that requires just such a person. Would you be interested?"

Mr. Who? Oh, right. The old tosser. Kept making Obito carry his luggage for him.

Obito tilted his head. His blank mask giving nothing away. "That depends…" Obito trailed off.

There was a moment of silence as both men waited for Obito to continue. When he did no such things, the boss man said leadingly, "Depends on...?"

"If you can afford me!" Obito chirped and was gratified by the disbelieving looks. Obito's prices were ridiculously low.

Oh, now the boss man was doing that thin smiling thing where he tried very hard not to sneer. Obito gave him points for politeness.

"I'm sure I can arrange some form of payment for your help." He even managed to keep the condencing in moderation. What a nice man.

"I'd like to know more about the target first, if you don't mind." Obito smiled sweetly behind his mask "Cos' it could be The Pope. I don't want to kill the Pope!"

There was a silence and then, "It's not the Pope," came the strangled reply.

"Oh, good. Then I don't mind taking a look." Obito took a step forward and waved at his fingers in a 'gimme' gesture."

His client was clearly having second thoughts and it was with great reluctance that Obito was given a folder with a blurry Picture on it.

"Renato Sinclair. 'Was that fear Obito was hearing?' He is an Hitman that has been ordered to kill me. I would like you kill him first, if at all possible."

Obito peered at the blurry Picture. Black hair. Back eyes. Handsome face. Guy looked like an Uchiha in a stupid hat.

"Wouldn't it be easier to assassinate the one who ordered the Hit?" Obito asked tilting his head to another direction, bringing one finger up to where his mouth would be. A ''puzzled'' expression on his ''face''.

"That would be simpler." His client replied, eyes sifting. "But there are politics involved and that is not possible just yet. There is no time limit. As long as you manage to kill him before he kills me you will get paid. Do we have a deal?"

Hiring a newbie to kill a seasoned Hitman? Suspicious- Obito was 99% sure he was going to get stabbed in the back.

"It's a deal!"

Mr. Client was now giving him a very stern look. "I trust that you will act with utmost discretion."

Oh, he doesn't want the dumb cannon fodder to spread around who hired him. Obito smiled behind his mask and slapped a hand against his chest confidently.

"No need to worry. No one does discretion quite like I do!"

Ah, this was going to be so much fun.

Chapter Text

Chapter Three

That Blue, Blue Sky

Obito decided he had been going at this from the wrong angle all along.

He no longer had any reliable spy Network (of Zetsus) worth mentioning nor were Bingo books apparently a thing here. (Which, why the fuck not!?")

But Still, as long as you had money you could buy pretty much anything. Including information. And Obito had so many things he wanted to know.

His Information Broker unfortunately, was being a little shit.

"It's ten-thousand for the Flame lore information and fifty-thousand for any reliable information concerning Renato Sinclair."

The little shit pursed his(her?) lips in thought. "You need to also tell me your real name and show me your face." The little shit thought a little more. "Also give me your contact information. I can sell it forward to highest bidder."

Kakuzu is that you?

Obito sneered freely behind the safety of his mask. "How about I just pay you." Obito drawled his last words. "With more money."

This argument seemed to have impressed the little indigo shit enough to make him go silent for a moment.

Obito took this moment to silently observe the other. Dark robes. Hood over the top part of their face. Lower part had Clan Markings. Almost like Inuzukas. Slight build under it all. Not a taijutsu user by any stretch of imagination. So either poison or genjutsu user. Perhaps both?

In any case Obito was confident enough in his current abilities that he could in a tight spot simply shake out all this little shit knew by dangling them by their ankles.

"Mou, more money is fine as well." The other said, fingers twitching greelidy under the long sleeves. "But you need to tell me something useful about yourself. Something I can sell. Because even though you are not particularly important or skilled, people think Clouds are interesting."

The other threw what felt like a resentful glare at his Akatsuki robes. Particularly at the red clouds Obito had painstakingly sewn on them.

Clouds? Like the village? Obito was starting to feel vaguely offended.

They had dragged dangerous criminals from all over the Elemental Nations to join Akatsuki but none from Kumo. Even Obito knew how to draw a line somewhere. Creepy single letter-named, child-kidnaping fanatics the whole lot of them.

"How about no." Obito scoffed. "Let's forget the whole Renato Sinclair info. I changed my mind. I don't need it. I'll just pay you ten-thousand for the Flame lore and be done with it."

"You don't need it?" The blank condecend the other managed to coat their voice with was amazing. "You are planing to assasinate Renato Sinclair without any info. Just go blank?"

"Who says I'm going to assasinate them?" Obito blinked innocently behind his mask. Voice as sweet as sugar.

"No one ever buys info on that man for any other reason." The other shifted their head in dismissive manner. "And they all usually die, making room for new customers. The man is a small goldmine."

"But assasination is not neccesarily the only reason I could be buying info on him." Obito rocked back on his heels and tapped his mask with his forefinger. "You shouldn't jump into conclusions like that. You don't have all the facts."

"Such as?"

"Maybe I'm in love with him!"

The other stared at him. "...are you?"

"Does it count as interesting fact about me if I say yes?"

"...sure."

"Then yes!" Obito nodded his head happily.

"...what did you say your name was again?"

"Uchiha Madara!" Obito said joyfully.

"...right. Okay. Even if what you said turns out to be complete bullshit. Love always sells, mou."

"Good for you." Obito was already growing bored with this line of conversation. "Now do you have the book or not?"

The other reached out into their robes and conjured up a rather dull looking grey book with absolute gibberish in the cover.

"You need to use your flames on it to uncover what's been written on it" The other kept a firm hold of the book but presented it for Obito to look at. "A safety measure to protect Omerta."

Obito had no idea what Omerta was but he had a suspicion he was about to break it anyway. He shook his sleeve down and tapped the book-cover with one purple flame covered finger.

The words immediatly started jumping around until they formed English words. Obito had to blind at the flamboiant cursive letters a moment to make sense of them.

Flame Lore for Dumbass Newbies written by Professor Arc en Ciel

"Riiiight. Okay, so-" Obito looked at the other. "Was it ten-thousand?"

"Did I say that?" The other briskly asked, "I meant fifteen."

...this was one of the reasons Obito did not miss Kakuzu at all. "You are ripping me off then?"

"Not at all. You are free to take your business elsewhere if you don't like it."

Little shit. Well Obito could take his business elsewhere, but then again he was lazy and he had money now.

"Fine then. I don't feel like arguing. Is cash okay?"

"Cash is fine." The other stared happily as Obito slammed one wad of cash over another and waved his empty hand demandigly.

"The book please!" The Indigo shit tossed the book at him and was very hasty to beat his retreat after that.

"It's just some Basic information that everyone knows." The other almost laughed at him as their form wavered and vanished like Morning mist.

So definitely a genjutsu user. It shoulnd't take too long then. Obito beat just as hasty retreat while keeping his ears wide open. The screech of rage he heard echoing after him warmed the coldest parts of his empty chest.

The little shit had discovered his wad of cash were just bunch of IOU notes under C-grade genjutsu.

Obito had money now. Didn't mean he liked spending it.

After immersing himself into reading the book for over an hour Obito's head was filled with only one thought.

What the absolute fuckery was this?!

He got the general gist of it just fine. Seven types of different colored flames: Storm, Rain, Mist, blah blah blah- Apparently his purple fire was called Cloud Flame. It could propagate shit. That much Obito had pretty much figured out on his own, thank you very much. Clouds were also aloof, violent shits that liked guarding territory? Or something. That was cool.

In a moment of inspiration Obito had coated his knuckles with purple Cloud Flames. Layering the Small area with explosive Propagated strenght like in Lady Tsunade famous Taijutsu style. That particular style required meticulous chakra control that Obito never had but this-

The fire flowed like blood under his skin. Eager and bloodthirsty. More than happy to go where Obito willed it once his mind was filled with images of battle.

Trying not to loose his head Obito punches the Wall lightly while making the flames explode.

His fist sinks into the Wall with enviable ease. Pieces of Wood and stone fly all over his face and clothes, making him sneeze anf cough.

Well that was highly promising. Nothing amazing but something to work on certainly, only… now there's a huge crack on his Wall.

Ah, he'll fix that later. Somehow. Obito picks the book back up from the floor, and squints at the passage on the various abilities of the Flames.

Only question that remains is how did you go from having a weird Kekkei Genkai ability into having weirder personality types, he's not quite sure. Unless it was like those old wives-tales about chakra types. Fire Natured people were suposedly more quick to anger and Earth Natured people tended to be steady… If you believed in that sort of thing.

Obito knew for a fact that Deidara had Earth Release and you couldn't call that brat stready at the best of times. And Itachi like most Uchiha had Fire. Quick to anger? Pfft!

So Obito took all this Personality and Typical Behaviour shit with a big grain of salt.

Then there was the… Social aspect of it.

Especially with Orange.

Obito's face went from relatively blank look of concentration, to looking like a ten-year old kid reading about the specifics of sex for the first time.

Sky. Harmony. Courting. Bonds. Ewww.

The book was thin and didn't go into great detail about anything but Obito would be having none of that anyway.

It was the greatest piece of bullshit he had heard since the Will of Fire!

And this was Basic information. How do people even know if someone is a Sun or a Rain or a fucking Sky? Is everyone a bloody sensor now.

Wait a second. That girly braid boy had been dressed entirely in red. And he had red flames. So... Storm? Obito double checked with the book. Red means Storm. Storms… disintegrate. And his Information Broker had those indigo colored Clan markings so... Mist?

Not to mention the sheer attention people kept giving to his Akatsuki robes.

That's so dumb!

Why do they advertize their Flame types like that. Usually you keep that sort of Trump Cards close to your chest at any cost.

Unless it had something to do with that… Social aspect of Flames.

Is it really that important?

Feeling little speechles, Obito tried to remember his childhood. He had a feeling that child Obito would have understood much better than his current wreck of self ever could.

Ah, well. Something to experiment with later. He still had that assasination mission on stand by.

Now how to go about this?

After copious amounts of snooping Obito had discovered a relatively useful Information Source. Apparently, there were many, many beautiful women singing praises at the Hitman. Even the ones that he had brutally dumped had nothing but good things to say about him. To sum it up, the guy got game.

He was nowhere near as polite with men if the gossip could be believed. Or perhaps it was the jealousy talking? Quite few men wailed on Obito's shoulder how they had lost a girlfriend/sister/mother, to 'that damned hitman!'.

Obito pondered about the psychological implication of such a behaviour. Would it be alright to ask the Hitman 'How often did your Daddy kick around your Mommy again?'

Heh. Propably not.

Well, if the Hitman felt more at ease around women then an woman he would receive!

The matter of chakra halted him again from performing a henge and turning into look-a-like of one Uchiha Mikoto. Technically he had just enough to make it through the day in full henge but- then there would be none left to use in a fight. Hmm...

Troublesome.

Ah, but Obito was a fully qualified Ninja. He could disguise himself perfectly well without the use of chakra.

So he tied a red ribbon in his Black hair and stuffed two melons down his shirt.

He looked like Parody version of a child Tsunade Senju and some poor sod of an Uchiha that laid Still long enough had.

Perfect!

Finding the Hitman was not all that difficult. From what he had heard this guy was a genious! A Prodigy! The Strongest Hitman in the World! Obito had a mental image of an highly skilled induvidual who can fake it just fine in social situations, but doesn't actually give a fuck about others most of the time. One of Kakashi's people if you will. And Obito had Copious amounts of experience in stalking Kakashi.

Obito adjusted his melons and knocked on the door.

There was a long silence and Obito wondered if the other would even open the door. He had dynamite as a plan B. He had relieved few sticks from some skeevy Lovechild of Kabuto and Lettuce. The skeevy guy had more than enough explosives smuggled away in that silly lab of his. He wouldn't even notice that few had gone missing!

Meanwhile the door finally opened and Obito perked up.

"Good day to you sir! Would you be interested in hearing about the Word of our Lord and Saviour Lord Jashin."

The well dressed, Black haired man looked him up and down. From his familiar blank pale Orange Mask to his Akatsuki robes and finally settled on the two melons he had shoved under his shirt. The other pursed his lips at Obito like a severly dissapointed Academy Teacher. Or like some Uchiha spinster Aunt that had seen Obito just fall over his own two feet.

It was such a look of disgusted dissapointment that Obito had to pause his tirade for a minute. "...what?"

The other man blinked at him.

"Nothing just-" He waved his hand towards Obito's get up. Particularly at his melons. " Not what I was expecting."

"I get that alot!" Obito chirps. It sounds just plain weird with Madara's voice but he's a Lady right now. It Still counts as staying in character. (This may have gotten out of hand.)

" I already knew some newbie would be coming to have a go but- this!" The other hisses. He seems very offended by Obito's melons. "This is not how you do Assasination!"

This guy has never been to Konoha, has he?

"Such false accusations!" Obito screeches back. "I don't need to take this. I'll just leave this token Of Lord Jashin to you and then I will bid you good day!"

Obito offers the Hitman a lit dynamite like it's a Candle.

The other inhales.

Next something sparkles like chakra made out of sunlight. The other man throws the dynamite out of a window and punches Obito in the chest with his other hand. There's a loud explosion on the backround as Obito's poor left melon gets obliviated to bits.

Obito screeches some more as he dances out of the other man's reach. The Hitman follows him, seeming very determined to kick Obito into ditch and there's that sunlight again. If the girly braid boy was a Storm this guy is a Sun! Obito is getting the hang of this.

"You made me all lopsided! This is not how you treat a lady!" Obito spins out of the way when the other man whips out a gun and shoots at him.

He dodges safely, for the most part. But now his right melon gets hit and it explodes, leaking all over Obito's poor robes.

"Not so lopsided anymore. You are welcome." The other snarks at Obito, well aren't you adorable.

There was Sunlight in the bullet. So other people can put Flames in their weapons too. Figures. He has his Scythe hanging around his neck. Disguised as a rather cool looking nekclace. It would be a Small matter to pump Cloud Flames into it and start swinging but… He's been reluctant to show his Flames to anyone. Hide all your cards when you can. That's how he has lived his life.

But there was that damn Social Aspect and well… he needed to experiment it on someone didn't he?

Not having any idea how to do this Obito simply starts making handsigns, fills his lungs with chakra and the Orange Sky Flames. Aims and breathes out in a familiar sharp burst.

Katon: Gokakyu no Jutsu!

The other man's eyes go wide under the brim of his stupid hat. Clearly not expecting Obito to breahe fire.

There's that familiar explosion of heat and fire. And Obito breahes it in blissfully, from his safe perch on a building's wall.

Ah, but it's so nice to be able to set shit on fire again.

The Hitman has retreated several spaces to the right from the scorthed crater that Obito's Grand Fireball has caused. It's a pretty tiny crater actually, but Obito is willing to count even that as a win nowadays.

The other man doesn't seem all that hurt, just... surprised? He has gone very Still and his face is hidden under the brim of his hat so it's difficult to say what he's feeling.

But what says his experiment?

"Do you feel like you want to be my friend very badly now!" Obito hollers at the other man.

The other man stares at him.

...Is he blushing?

"You're a Sky!" The other man spits at him like Obito has commited some huge personal slight against the Hitman's whole Clan.

Maybe he has. Obito is fucking clueless about this Flame business.

Somehow Harmony doesn't come to mind when he looks at the Hitman who seems to just this side of seething.

So a failure? These damn Sky Flames are useless. Can't even string idiots along!

Down on the ground the Hitman is doing that inhaling thing again. Holding the brim of his hat little over his eyes. Seemingly calming down?

Obito throws another dynamite at him.

The following fight is fast paced and ugly. Obito runs out of explosives pretty fast and the other man seems to have unlimited amount of bullets. Obito throws his new shiny Shurinken at the Hitman. Not even aiming to kill, just trying to keep him busy while Obito jumps closer. Trying to snatch the gun away.

His gloved fingers wrap around the metal but before he can yank the damn thing away the other man snatches hold of his wrist.

Obito is being pulled. Sharingan spins as he sees the other is trying to headbutt him. Grinnig, he gives back as good as he gets and there's a rather sickening crack as their foreheads slam together.

Bam! Ah, the World is spinnig but that's nothing new with head injuries. What worries him more is the crack on his Mask. He lifts his right hand over it. Trying to keep it in one piece.

The Hitman seems little dizzy from the headbutt as well. He's Still hanging onto Obito's wrist. Not letting go even when they both end up falling on their asses, swaying little as they sit on the ground.

"So-" The Hitman says evenly. Like's he's continuing a conversation that had been put on a hold for a short moment. "How much is he paying you for this job?"

"Um," Obito thinks back for a moment. "Three hundred."

The other is silent for a long moment. "Three hundred-thousand?" He sounds almost, dare Obito say, hopeful?

Obito glows as he crushes that hope. "No,no,no. Just- you know. Three hundred."

The other is doing that inhaling thing again. Also he's trying to crush Obito's wrist but that might not be a concious decision.

"Right." The Hitman sounds like a man trying very hard not to scream at Obito. Obito is very familiar with that tone of voice.

"You're a Sky and you're an Idiot."

Obito would like to refute that badly but the front of his robe is Still soggy and there are crushed bits of melon sliding down into his pants.

This joke might have been a little poorly planned.

"Tell you what." The Hitman says through gritted teeth. "I'll pay you three hundred in cash and you can skip away to do whatever the hell it is that you do." Obito's wrist is now being crushed definitely on purpose. "Let's do that. Shall we."

Obito is Thirty-one going on Sixteen and he doesn't apreciate the condecending tones coming from this twenty-something brat.

But then again. His Mask is cracked. His robe is ruined. And he is kinda getting bored with the whole thing. It's not like he was seriously trying to kill the other man. He has been set up to fail from the beginging. There was no profit in trying to defy those expectations. Might as well set this guy loose, so he can kill his employer and be done with the whole thing.

Unethical even by Ninja standards? Most certainly. But Obito is slowly running out of Fucks to give.

"Can I watch?" Obito asks. Might be useful to get knowledge about this guy's assasination techniques.

"No." The other says flatly. Obito can read the 'Get lost' undertones there.

The Hitman shoves money in his hand, lifts him up by the back of his robe and shoves him away. He should feel humiliated at being treated like a meddlesome child but can't quite manage it. He assumes he's still a little blissed out at managing to do the Grand Fireball properly. As pathetic as that sounds at his age.

And this Shit job wasn't a complete waste. He got to do some experimenting.

But just before he leaves, he still throws his last dynamite at the Hitman out of pure spite.

His clothes get thrown into basket and the inky hair burns with purple Flames. Turning the Black dye into ashes.

His poor abused Mask is beyond salvation. He will have to get rid of it and make a new one.

That should be the end of his day. Or, so he had dearly hoped but-

There's a Masked man standing in his dingy little apartment. Looking for all the World like an invited guest, paitiently awaiting for his host.

Obito in his Skull get up doesn't even have the luxury of grimacing under the safety of his own mask, because isn't this familiar.

Karma, he thinks, is quite a bitch.

Skull widens his single eye and stutters nervously. Like a proper civilian boy whose home has been invaded by a strange bad man.

Inside Obito cackles. Because that metal hat mask thing? So lame!

First comes strange masked man.

Then comes mysterious Criminal organisation.

All for the sake of Peace!

Chapter Text

Chapter Four

Like A Rainbow Over Cracked Asphalt

Obito, apparently, has a date with destiny. He prepares accordingly and applies liberally the most violent shade of purple lipstick he can find. It goes wonderfully with his hair and eyeshadow, if he may say so himself. And he most certainly may.

There's a giddy feeling inside his stomach, but he's not entirely sure of the cause. Might be that all the parallels are giving his cracked psyche something to laugh about. A mysterious masked man has invited him to join an infamous group of criminals. Isn't that just novel. Who would have though something like this would happen? Is this even reality anymore? Skull is indeed very shocked!

Also little disappointed. The masked man had been almost polite if you ignored his generally threatening air and his rather insisted demeanour that made it Crystal clear that Skull would be attending their little criminal meeting or else.

The other man had finished their rather one-sided conversation with throwing some hooked information about Flames and exciting new powers. Skull is sure a normal confused civilian would have taken the bait eagerly.

Obito had just mentally narrowed his eyes and loudly criticized the other man's delivery.

Really, that's it? That's all you are going to do? This sort of luke-warm shit would never have worked with Akatsuki. Their modus operandi in the beginning had been to fully acknowledge that the people they were inviting were uncooperative assholes that would hardly heed polite invitations.

It was fine to spare few words of enticement and try to charm the other Missings Nins into getting interested in their little Mercenary Organisation. And when that inevitably failed, they let an ugly thug (Konan) to beat them till the Candy fell out and drag their Still somewhat live carcasses back to the headquarters by their ankles.

Worked every damn time. Like a charm! Easy diplomacy that even retards like Hidan understood. You win. You go. We win. You stay and be our slave subordinate. Easy!

"Ohohoho-" Obito laughs like a crazy person while looking at his reflection in the cracked mirror. He adjusts his eyepatch with careful consideration and admires the Skull motif over it. After all, he has an aesthetic to live up to now!

He knows somewhere Deidara-senpai is so proud of him.

Pfft-

He inks a Small seal under his other eye. Nothing impressive, his seal work had never reached high-levels. Just something low-leveled to keep his Genjutsu in Place. He's paranoid enough to assume he will get knocked out cold somewhere along the line while pretending to be a civilian and really doesn't want the ruse to be up just because of some stupid scars.

His Seal looks like a teardrop. A purple teardrop because he has an aesthetic to-

"Crybaby Obito", he hears someone say mockingly in the mirror.

His Sharingan burns.

He means to arrive early. He really means to. It's just... ah, his next-door neighbor.

"Oh, Skull. Hello dearie."

Obito tightly smiles at the tiny elderly lady that staggers over to him. Warily eyeing her shopping bags, full enough to burst.

He knows where this is going but damnit all he will fight fate. Fight till he drops!

Forty-minutes later, after helping his elderly neighbor carry her shopping bags to her house, getting bullied into drinking tea and eating cake, and being shown pictures of alarming amounts of cats that she has owned, Obito finally, with some desparation breaks free by the arrival and Swift sacrificial of the Mailman.

"He loves cats. He has told me he has two of them!" Skull ignores the betrayed looks the Mailman sends his way. Obito has done his share of being imprisoned by an obsessive, crazy old coots. No more! Someone else can take a turn.

He makes up for the lost time by abandoning his bike early on and taking it up to trees. Pitiful, tiny, withered things though they may be, Obito can Still balance himself well enough not to break any branches.

The premises are empty when he arrives. As expected. Their agreed upon meeting time is Still two-hours away.

This gives him plenty of time to discover possible traps and ambushes that might be awaiting for him. Cursory glance with Sharingan shows… nothing so far, good, good. Although soon enough another little snooper arrives and hides himself into shadows of some rather droopy pines.

Obito squints at the blond man, who is silently making a hidey-hole for himself on the forest floor and observing their designated Super Secret Criminal meeting Place with a rather heavy duty looking binoculars.

Doesn't he know this guy? Hasn't he met him somewhere before? Obito has some vague recollection of some dumbass Minato-sensei Clone breaking his perfectly serviceable door for some unknown reason.

Also violently throwing his mirror at him.

It's the same man. He is fairly certain. Not many wear that much green. He would say no one wears that much green, but… well… Gai.

In any case no need to bother with the clone. If he's been invited, they will exchange greetings again inevitably.

And if he hasn't been invited, well- That's even more fun. Unwanted Spies and lurkers are something of a norm for secret Oprations of any importance. Blondie had even twitched and thrown a glance at the tree-tops when Obito had jumped too close. Not too hopeless. The man also would seem to have some long-ranged fighting abilities if the long barreled gun- rifle?- besides him has anything to say about it.

Obito mentally adds the blondie into his Bingo Book.

As the agreed upon time ticks closer people start to arrive. Somewhat… semi-familiar looking people.

Obito squints his eyebrows at the red wearing pretty boy that walks on near silent steps and the indigo wearing little shit that appears from ether. Because really. Really? Is this World really that fucking small!?

When the trigger happy harlot and the Hitman arrive Obito has pretty much thrown his hand up in the air and given up on living.

''Is this Karma!?'' Obito mentally screams at the Heavens.

If the forces of the universe must hit him with Karma do they really have to start with such… Akatsuki related retribution.

They were Missing-Nins! The ultimate bad guys! In a World where the bar for evil wasn't exactly low. Ninja-Villages considered murderers for pay a perfectly good Profession and Missing-Nins Still managed to get the shameless criminal asshat stamped on their records. That took some actual talent. What did Obito ever do to them to deserve this!?

Except... you know. Sacrificing most of them in the altar of his non-existent love life.

''...''

''Heh''

Good times.

Obito idly kept pumping chakra to his optic nerves to keep the Sharingan active. Better press these people into his memory, for his Bingo Book if nothing else.

After a woman in the most ridiculous and ugly looking puffy hat that Obito has ever seen enters, no one else seems to be coming.

Just in case Obito Waits for a while. And a little while more.

It's only after the blondie start shifting nervously in the bushes that Obito decides to make an entrance. Silently jumping down from his tree and letting his Sharingan fade.

Backtracking some two-hundred meters from the entrance and ruffling his hair to look extra messy -and even adding a fallen leaf in the mix, he forces a sunny, excited smile on his face.

Here we go then.

Skull starts running.

There's a rather obvious tripwire running across the doorway. Skull naturally takes an eager step and trips over it in his hurry, all the while waving his arms around like a pinwheel and screeching loudly as he goes down.

He falls on his face with a loud Oofh!"

He doesn't need to be a Yamanaka mindreader, to know the thought of every single person in the room at that moment. They are loud and clear in the cutting silence.

Pathetic.

Skull mentally pats himself on the back for the job well done. First impressions were so important.

"Sorry I'm late!" Skull dusts himself and grins at the strangers seated around a big, wooden table. "I got lost on the road of life!"

Eyes of many colors stare at him. Taking in his hair, his eyepatch and the teardrop tattoo, his biker gear, everything. Some eyes suddenly seems to Flash with brighter hues, different from the original, ordinary eye-color, which is interesting.

It's quite surprising. All these semi-familiar faces. It makes him think someone has managed to manipulate him somewhere along the line.

He does not care for it at all and mentally adds double S danger ranking on the masked man's page in his shiny new (Coming soon) Bingo Book.

They are all sitting in varying shades of tense silence. No one seems willing to make any sort of contact other than brief evaluating glares and stares and fake smiles.

Ah, how this reminds him of Chunin-Exams. All this infantile posturing.

Skull half hesitantly, half eagerly makes his way to the only chair left free. (The blondie is not coming then?) The legs make screeching sounds as Skull drags it away from the table and slumps down on it.

The blue haired bitch on his right is glaring at him in a very hostile manner. Skull moves nervously few inches away from her and tries to smile winningly at the whole room.

"Hi! Did I miss Anything?"

The ugly hat lady smiles back. So very warmly that, it comes across as fake and almost disinterested.

"You came only a little late. We were just starting to introduce ourselves and wondering who would like to go first." Her tone is even and self-assured. In control.

Yikes. Benevolent leader type in a big ugly hat. Why do they always have such ridiculous headwear? Hello Sarutobi! Didn't expect to see you with boobs.'

Not that Obito can criticise on that front anymore… But Skull can! Skull has never been foolish enough to stuff melons down his shirt- yet.

He grins and decides to go first.

"Hiya! My name is Skull! The Immortal Stuntman. I like riding on my motorbike and doing stunts! I don't like mean people. And my dream for the future… I don't have one! Who goes next?"

The following startled silence is broken by the puffy-hat woman. She's fucking giggling. Like he said something funny.

Obito kind of hates her. It's not an unfamiliar feeling. Sort of comforting in its familiality, actually.

"That was very good. I'll go next then, shall I?" She gives another one of those warm benevolent smiles and Obito wants to hit her.

"My name is Luce. I am the Boss of Giglio Nero. I like baking and drinking tea. Hmm... there are not many things I dislike?"

Others take their turns, surprisingly following Skull's beat and giving the same ridiculous team seven introductions. Good grief.

It ends with the Hitman being the last to introduce himself. The man gives a vaguely disinterested look at the whole room and in the end only reveals just his name. His stupid fake name Reborn. What even is that supposed to be? Skull is so much better.

And really. Technically Skull is likely the only one who gave his real name in their little get together. Skull has all the paperwork and workplace full of colleges to prove it!

Skull is a civilian after all. He doesn't know any better.

He beams at the others happily, his single eye narrowing into crescent. Aren't we getting along well? At Akatsuki HQ someone would be bleeding at this point.

Obito distractedly watches as the puffy head lady leaves and comes back. Luce brings out cookies. Obito feels awfully wronged somehow. This is how she is going to run the show. Fucking cookies!?

When she asks if anyone wants to eat some, Skull waves his powdery hand eagerly. Begging for one.

There's some feeble hope that they are poisoned in some manner. Even as a greeting test to see what they would do. That would be tolerable. And he has not yet managed to test his new hearty constitution against toxins.

Eating is a chore and half he has noticed. Going so long without needing to eat had spoiled him. During his first week in this World, it took him three days to realise that the pain in his stomach meant hunger. After that he almost managed to choke on bread and die. Somehow his brain had managed to forget how swallowing food worked. Because that was how his life always went.

Even now he had to concentrate, taking only small mouthfuls and carefully chewing.

It was annoying. He made sure to eat with his mouth open just to share some of his suffering.

From the blue haired woman's- Lal's- glare, he was succeeding.

Throwing his head back in satisfaction he burbed and grinned. "Delicious!" And not even hint of the grainy texture of poison you useless, idiotically dressed-

Something pokes at him. In a weird incorporeal manner, Obito retaliates almost on instinct by setting the whole Place on fire but manages to stop himself even before making the first hand-seal. This makes it seem like he's squirming and wringing his hands in discomfort, which is fine. Still in character! Skull is a restless person, after all. Ahaha. And something pokes at him again. Obito has just managed to wrestle his defensive fury back down when it flares again, this time his Flames want to join the party too. Obito hastily manages control and push down his Orange Flame but the Purple one is having none of that shit.

It takes wrestling with his own Flames to notice that his are not the only ones in the room, freely mulling about. He doesn't see them. Not with his eyes anyway but he knows they are here. Flowing around him like water, occasionally brushing against his own bristling fire.

His Sharingan is begging to be used but that would be a horribly stupid idea. The whirling of chakra near his retina makes eye water. He uses that to make himself to look scared enough to tear up and shrinks into himself.

It's not difficult to act like startled ignorant moran because that is precisely what he is at the moment. When someone else's(!) Flames reach out and poke at him again he does nothing to hide the resulting flinch.

The braid boy, Fon, is watching him from the other side of the table. He's the one doing this? When Skull's single violet eye catches his the other looks at him carefully and-

His eyes turn red. Motherfu-! It's a testament of ultimate willpower that Obito doesn't punch him in the face right then and there.

No tomoe. Let's focus on that. No tomoe and the shade is all wrong. Not Sharingan. Not an Uchiha.

Different World. Right. Right.

But what's with the eye color changing? What for?

There's a memory at the back of his mind. Years and years ago his older cousins did something similar. When they met up after separation and didn't feel like giving out their entire ninja registeration number, they would Flash their Sharingans' at each others as a proof of identity. No enemies here.

Testily he lets his Purple Cloud Flames flare behind his eye. Making iris glow dimly with the same color.

The braid boy quirks his lips and finally turn his gaze away from Skull, apparently satisfied.

Was that... how they say hello?

They have stopped with the freezing silence and started to tentatively chat with each others. Obito answers questions while paying only half-attention. The other half is used to track all the invisible fire filling the room.

Holy shit. There's quite alot of it. In all the colours of the rainbow.

He's freaking out. Just a little. But he doesn't like it. How all these other people keep lightly brushing and prodding his own Flames. It's making him irritated and unsure. It's giving him weird sensations and feelings that are not his own in the least.

So apparently Flames are used in non-verbal communication. Good to know. Too bad Obito doesn't speak the language. It's hard enough to trying to differentiate which one of these losers is pushingproddingpoking at him in turn to actually focus on what they are trying to convey with it.

His Cloud Flames keep wanting to fight these people. And nothing civilised like sparring but a good old fashioned let's keep going until one of us drops dead, okay, kind of fighting.

He's keeping a lid on the violence, but It's giving him such a headache.

The puffy-head lady Luce is the worst. She's somehow all over the place. Like a fog. All of her Orange Fire making him antsy as hell.

But there's an opprtunity in her fire. It's burning so brightly and so very obviously. No one would notice a thing if he inserts some his own Orange Flames in the mix.

...probably...

It's an experiment! For Science! He has been hoping for more test subjects. The first experiment with Renato-Reborn was such a flop.

Orange Sky Flames are some sort of Brainwashing power, right? Right! Some kind of Friendship Bond Scam thing.

Obito misses having people to boss around!

Making his Sky Flame as thin as one of Sasori's puppet strings is difficult. The damn thing keeps wanting to Flare up for some reason but Obito is nothing but stubborn in face of an objective. Come on now, be good fire and behave.

The end result is... eh good enough. Skull yawns and looks around the room, trying to find a suitable test-subject.

Ah-ha. Bingo! There's the green haired one- washisname-Verde is quietly chatting with puffy-hat Luce. Both of their Flames swirling around not touching but not far off either.

Obito makes his little flame string go under Luce's gently flowing Flames. This would be so much easier with a Sharingan but no-one gets alarmed or seems to notice anything so, one win for the Ninja!

If Obito jabs the green haired man's Flames more forcefully than he intends, he can only blame this roomful of ''Teachers'' for showing him such crude way of doing things.

Just like Skull earlier, the green-haired man flinches. Hah! Not so fun, when it's happening to you, is it. Obito intends to reel his Flame back a little and give it a another go but-

The fucking thing is stuck!

Oh fu- He forgot that the Orange Flame is a clingy shit!

No time for subtlety. Obito simply wrenches his Flames back, ignoring how Small few embers get separated and stay in the green-haired man's Flames.

Skull starts happily chirping at Lal like butter wouldn't melt in his mouth. Nothing to see here. No Sir. All is normal and well.

"Hey, do you know if I can ask Luce to serve booze with the cookies? I kinda want to drink now."

"Dunno." Lal doesn't even pretend to be interested in this line of conversation. Rude!

Side-eyeing the green-haired man gives him full view of the others' vaguely constipated expression before it smoothes out. Verde in turn frowns at the table before narrowing his eyes at Luce, lips thinning but not saying anything.

Obito is off the hook! Who told Luce to flare her Flames so strongly. All orange fire related incidents are obviously related to her.

It's good to be bad. Obito lets his attention sift around from person to person. Trying to glance under the Mist Flames User- Viper's- hood without the other noticing. Luce giggles again and starts a new conversation. This time with their resident Hitman.

Skull gets little distracted over Observing the Hitman's seduction tactics. They are very smooth. Top Class really, as far as he can tell. There's just the right amount of distant coldness paired with only you can melt it vibes. Making their interaction seem very natural and almost warm.

Obito never took any seduction classes. Those had been available for boys during war-time but one needed to be recommended by their Academy teacher first before applying. Kakashi had been recommended of course. Obito had noted then that most of the boys chosen had belonged to the pretty boy category or had been otherwise accomplished.

Obito does not know if he should feel relieved or disturbed that his Academy Teacher had apparenty taken a good, long look at him and decided that, "Nobody will ever want to tap that."

Obito decides to settle for feeling relieved. He had a distant memory of snooping around Konoha's sealed Records and discovering by accident that their most successful Ninja in Seduction Missions had been Orochimaru of all people. For six years in a row!

That just says it all, doesn't it?

Skull stuffs his mouth full of cookies once more and narrows his eye in contempt that he disguises as enjoyment.

Giving a quick glance from under his lashes at the people present, he comes to a firm conclusion.

I don't like you, idiots ,at all.

So they get their own house. A Mansion really. A big-ass one. Middle of a forest. There are wallpapers lining the walls. Very tasteful Wallpapers.

Obito tries not to think disloyal thoughts about Akatsuki hideout when compared to The Mansion. But.. this house has natural lighting.

Fuck it. They were an Organization of Missing-Ninjas. They weren't that big on loyalty in the first Place.

Akatsuki HeadQuarters are such a shit-hole compared to this.

It promises nothing good of course. That they are getting shoved with such riches from the get go buuut-

So what if this ends badly?

So what.

It's just Karma in the end.

Skull pounces around the hou- Mansion! Calling dibs on the biggest room. Getting booted out of it by Reborn and settling for finding a new one.

Luce is calling for another little meeting. They are expected do missions. For a mysterious man Called Checkerfce. Luce expects good team-work from all of them. She has Sky Flames so she's their Team-leader.

This is going to be such a shit-show. Skull can't even wait.

Great news though. As it gets closer to evening Luce brings out bottles of alcohol to keep them relatively friendly and chatty.

Skull is a morose drunk. Obito decides. For no other reason that he has no energy left to be so damn chirpy all the time.

Skull has no objections and briefly lifts his class in a salute for that poor blond sucker, probably Still hiding in the bushes somewhere nearby.

Why does other people's misery feel so good when you are sitting on a comfy, warm sofa, glass full of spirits in hand.

Ah cannot be helped. Laughing at poor suckers is his new Ninja-way.

The old one was rubbish.

"So, Skull." Obito blinks at the blue haired woman who is talking to him. "Where were you from exactly? We've already figured out that Verde is from France and Reborn is painfully Italian."

Obito mulls that question for a moment and slurs much more drunkenly than he really is.

"I grew in a Small Village middle of a Forest." Skull lets his single eye mist over. "It is gone now. Just like my childhood."

Lal stares at him. "That was the most russian thing I have ever heard."

It's good enough answer it seems. Skull is from Russia now.

It comes up soon enough. The glaringly obvious fact that Skull is an innocent civilian with zero experience in crime. Certainly not part of any Mafia famiglia or Organization of any repute. Not even a freelancer!

Skull shifts around awkwardly while others glare and shake their heads at him.

"Then what use are you?" The Hitman asks, not really expecting response.

"Umm, I can drive really well." Skull taps his fingers together uncertainly. "So there is that…"

Obito thinks he drives well anyway. He doesn't have a real licence but then again none of his paperwork is exactly real so...

He can understand their ire: he really can. No one would have liked a civilian in Akatsuki. Even if the poor sod had some amazing Kekkei-Genkai to make up for the lack of any useful training, it still would not be nowhere near good enough.

It's what separated them from the civilians after all. Not just random powers but the knowledge how to use them and will to train years to perfect their craft. Their Nindou.

And Obito suspected that this Arcobaleno Organization was a little more… well respected, in their mafia community than Akatsuki ever was in Elemental Nations.

Both had Criminals but no one had betrayed anyone to be here. Or if they had then loyalty to their Village was certainly lesser deal here than it had been at home.

They all held their heads up like they were proud to be here. It was bizarre.

"No one has time to teach you the basics." The older (Hah!) man drones. Eyes narrowed.

Is Obito just imagining or does he dislike Skull little more than the others? All this hostility. Something to look into he supposes.

"So we are sending you to Carcassa."

Carcassa Famiglia, turns out to be a Small time Mafia Family. They deal in drug trafficking, smuggling, skin-trade and other deplorable activities. All in all, a very weak no-name family that is treated pretty much as every ones bitch.

So local Genin-Corps. And they send Skull there.

He knows his character is supposed to be a doofus civilian but C'mon!

"Have fun with the weaklings." The Hitman shoves Skull towards the trembling people who are not hiding their fear all that well from anyone.

Genin-Corps. He being forced to join Genin-Corps! No matter how temporarily, no one must ever know about this!

"Hi! My name is Skull!" Skull waves happily, purple nails glinting in sunlight. "I'm here to learn so lets get along, okay!"

Obito keeps up the cheerful appearance until the Hitman disappears from the view. The minute he can no longer sense him Skull's smile drops.

"Also heads-up! I'm taking over this operation. Starting now."

None of the Carcassa people have seemed all that happy to see him in the first Place and now their faces pale even further.

Some red headed person scowls at him. Likely 'the Boss'. "You can't just take over our Famiglia like that!"

"I can't?" Obito lets his Cloud Flames Flare. Mixes some bloodlust in the raging fire as well. They go perfectly together. "Are you sure?"

The other holds Still for three seconds before crumbling. "Please don't kill us!"

Cloud Flames. So damn useful. Skull gives them a Naruto smile as a reward.

"Don't worry, I have some use for you lot so you can live." Skull tilts his head. "For now at least."

They truly are submissive weakling that don't even try put up much of a fight after feeling his Flames and seeing his coloring. Obito is feeling like one of Orochimaru's bright scaled, extremely toxic snakes here!

It's not a bad feeling.

"So does anyone here have any experience in spying?" Skull claps his hand to get their attention. Unnecessary they were all staring at him in thinly veiled unease and fear from the beginning. Few of them raise their trembling hands, like they are in a classroom. Cute!

"Because you'll be doing that whole a lot more."

Ah, how Obito has missed having minions to boss around!

A sneak-peak for the next chapter.

There's a... thing. On his bed. A red blob really.

Obito despises it on sight.

The blob waves its tentacles at him in a cheerful manner.

Obito brandishes kunai at it. Even pokes at it with the tip of his blade threateningly. It jiggles, like jello!

"Get out."

The blob's IQ doesn't seem to be high enough to understand him. Or maybe it just wants to get stabbed some more. Obito is willing to oblige.

The tentacles reach out to him and tap at his hand and fingers gently, almost curiously. Then the blob pokes at his kunai and tries to clumsily pry it away from Obito's grasp.

It's not using much strenght, or maybe it just is that weak? The point is, it wants to steal a leathal weapon from the hands of S-class Missing-ninja and Obito-

Obito fucking lets go. Curious, not at all fearing death by blob. It won't be permanent anyway.

The blob is letting out happy squeeing noises. Shifting the Kunai from one tentacle to another and even spinning it around.

Then it suddenly throws the blade at the Wall and the damn thing sinks to handle,

The happy noises increase.

"This thing is so cute!" Skull fucking loves it.

Grinning, Skull fishes out couple of Shuriken for the blob to try. It seems to like hurling sharp objects at breakneck speed, which is very endearing

Skull claps his hands in aplause. "Well make a Nin-Octopus out of you yet!"