Chapter Text
He wakes up. It is disorientating.
He doesn’t recall closing his eyes in the first place, nor did the need for sleep consume him. What he does recall is this: the rough surface of the crumbling apartment walls, the uneven surface of the ground- marred by age, the striking blue eyes of a sorcerer that trailed after his back.
And with a blink-
He finds himself on his back.
The scent around him is familiar, that of nature and incense. But in the same vein, it is utterly unfamiliar. There’s something soft upon his back, like the fine clothes from the nobles of Kiri. He hadn’t slept in this fine of bedding in a long, long while- nor has he had the need to.
There is no one that he can see around him, but he feels their presence interspersed around where he’d found himself in regardless. They are unfamiliar to him. At least- most of them are. He can still feel some similarities here and there. Like Gojo Satoru’s signature, for example..
He sits up slowly, feeling tense and wary.
The room is a small thing, less like an apartment complex and more like a dorm or some such. The kind that Kakashi holed himself up in after the death of his father and the abandonment of his clan compound.
There’s a bed next to him, he’s not sure why he’s been playing atop a futon instead. But there’s two types of blankets scattered atop the surface of the bed. One is in a vibrant green shade, the other- a gentle blue. He touches upon them. They’re still warm. The occupant- or occupants of them have probably not left for long.
He studies the rest of the room. It’s not quite cluttered as it is organized albeit a bit crowded. There are small containers that line the shelves. With ivy falling off the edges and other vegetation vying for his attention. Some are put near the window sill, others left in the shade. There’s traces of a candle upon the table, having been put out the night previous- perhaps. There’s a childish drawing tapered upon the wall, depicting that of three figures and many others. Though Obito doesn’t know much about the child’s life to start attempting at a guess of who those figures are. There’s more drawings like such that litter the wall. They’re more professional, though, the artwork depicted is still clearly leaning towards a younger audience.
There’s no one around him, but he feels surrounded, still.
He’s still not sure why he’s here. He’s not sure why he’s sent here to some room. But that’s about on par with his life now, Obito supposes. Not that this time is any familiar to the previous. He hadn’t died this time, or at least he doesn’t think so.
The Juubi is silent, though. And this makes Obito grow even more wary.
Obito stands up. He inspects the outside of the room.
The scenery is familiar, he thinks. He definitely is familiar with those treeline and the entire compound as a whole.
He isn’t familiar with the sight in daytime, though, he thinks. And the treeline does look different here and there. But it’s the same.
It’s where Itadori Yuuji lives. Or at least, sleep.
Had he ended up in one of Itadori’s companion’s room?
It does seem likely, and Obito still does not know why he’s here. But that’s at least a reassuring thought. It centers him, somewhat.
The matter of why he’s here is still perplexing, though, and he hadn’t the faintest clue of how he ended up here. Tucked atop a fine futon and laying next to someone’s bed. The room around him feels unfamiliar and yet familiar in the same breath. He doesn’t know why he feels compelled to let down his guard here.
Perhaps it’s the scent of incense. Of burned wood and a pyre- it feels familiar. Like that of the old Uchiha clan.
Familiar, if only because Obito can’t quite remember the exact scent.
He hears the sound of footsteps, but he sensed their approaching before he did so.
There’s the familiarity of Gojo Satoru’s signature, and four more unknowns. One of which is distantly familiar, but not quite to what Obito remembers last.
Kamui doesn’t obey him.
He hears them before he sees them.
“Are you sure you’re not playing a prank on us?” Gojo Satoru asks, his voice is unfamiliar, though. It sounds like that of higher-pitched, slightly more childish. Though it does retain most of what Obito knows of the man. But the fact is-
It sounds different.
Kamui still does not heed him. Obito has figured out why. His chakra is strangely weak- as though awakening from a slumber. It has nowhere near the precision and nowhere near the strength to invoke Kamui. It’s somewhat like getting used to even having chakra again. As though a chakra limiter has been placed on him and his body hasn’t still gotten used to having chakra flow through his veins.
“We’re not!” someone says, their voice is younger, still. That of a child’s. “Nii-san looks all different now. And Maki says she can’t see him!”
“That’s weird, do you think it’s one of those pranks?” Gojo Satoru, again. “Like, surprise! We lured you here to your secret birthday party or something.”
There’s a sigh, coming from someone Obito isn’t quite familiar with.
“It doesn’t seem likely, Satoru.”
“You sound like you’re a part of it.” A laugh, it’s Gojo’s.
“I’m not.”
“That’s exactly what a secret party planner would say.”
Another sigh, someone twists at the door handle.
Obito doesn’t feel threatened, exactly. Seeing as Gojo Satoru hasn’t been out for his life so far. But he does feel disconcerted at the man’s strange voice alongside the strangers with him that he does not know. Including at least one child.
It’s a strange ensemble. One that Obito isn’t sure why is gathered outside his door.
“He does feel different, though,” Gojo Satoru says, the man’s voice taking a slightly more serious turn. “It doesn’t feel good.”
“You think he’s sick?” Another voice asks, this one is more feminine leaning. Though they sound bored, Obito can pick up on the slight hint of urgency belaying their tone.
“No, I’m saying-”
The door creaks open.
Three teenagers and two children look at him.
It’s during one of Satoru’s daily visits to his dear past teacher that it happened. He’s busy leaving his feet upon tables and chewing through Yaga-sensei's basket of snacks all the while giving quick one sentence summaries in lieu of a report.
His dear past teacher looks tired, he’s rubbing circles near his eyes as though in great pain.
Satoru has no idea why.
“So you’re saying that you ‘wham, bam’-ed the curse.” More rubbing of the ridge behind his eyes. The man has even taken off his sunglasses- which Satoru doesn’t get why he wears indoors.
Well, it’s not like Satoru can talk. He wears a blindfold. Though Satoru is of the opinion that a blindfold is infinitely more stylish, even if Nobara can’t understand it and Megumi more than often expresses his opinions on it.
Yuuji, the sweet soul that he is, agrees with Satoru that it’s stylish. And no, that answer wasn’t bribed contrary to Nanami’s beliefs.
“Yep,” Satoru answers eagerly. Chewing loudly on the hard candies. “Did a quick one-two, you know?”
Yaga-sensei sighs. It sounds more like a sound from a kettle than a human. Satoru thinks it’s awfully delightful.
“Then explain why it damaged the Kamo clan’s estate.”
Ah, so this was why he was called to the principal’s room like some misbehaving delinquent.
“It was just there,” Satoru explains easily. Throwing in a shrug while he’s at it. “Can’t let it get away, what about my reputation?”
Yaga-sensei looks at him, there are no sunglasses to block his condemning gaze now.
“You punted it into the estate.”
“Work mishap.” Again, another shrug. Yaga-sensei looks ready to strangle Satoru at any moment. Maybe put poison in those candy wrappers.
The conversation, in fact, does not end in an attempted murder and another chokehold. And it doesn’t end in an extended scolding on how Satoru can’t just ‘take out his anger at the Kamo by destroying their estate in the name of exorcism.’ A scolding which Satoru would forget the moment he exits this room.
The conversation ends as Satoru tips his head up slightly, sensing something from far away.
It feels familiar, though Satoru hasn’t the faintest clue as to why.
“Unknown sorcerer at the gates,” Satoru informs, dusting his hands of imaginary crumbs. “I’ll go see what’s up.”
Yaga-sensei doesn’t argue, perhaps he’s way past that point. He’s beyond a middle aged man. Walking too far would probably break his back or something. Though Satoru is of the opinion that Yaga-sensei would, again, kill him if Satoru says such. And Shoko and Nanami would cover it up.
Satoru leaves before Yaga-sensei can sense his less than favorable thoughts about the man’s bones.
When he arrives at the gates, there’s someone awaiting him. Their back turned against him, as they survey their surroundings, almost in confusion.
“You’re not supposed to be here, you know,” Satoru says conversationally. They don’t jolt like most do. Perhaps they’re too shocked? “Authorized personnel only, and my cute students.”
They don’t seem to react for a moment, as though digesting his words.
“I thought I could be here,” they eventually say. Their voice is familiar, but not. Satoru can place it this time, but it’s-
Uchiha Obito turns to face him. Wearing the thin cloths of a cheap nagagi upon his frame.
His eyes are dark, and more importantly-
His hair is dyed in ink, his face is untouched by scars. There’s still the childish fat of youth clinging onto his cheeks. His voice is lighter than when he’s grown. A mix between child and teenager. One that hasn’t yet dipped into the deep, raspy range that he’d grow up into.
He breathes and Satoru knows, instinctively, that his heart beats and it’s not the facsimile of one.
For Uchiha Obito is a curse no longer.
Uchiha Obito looks at him and his expression, and he seems nowhere as perplexed.
“What’s wrong?” Uchiha Obito- a human teenager with a beating heart, red blood, black hair, and unscarred face- asks.
You, Satoru thinks distantly. You’re wrong.
The day began normally. Or well, it was normal. Satoru had woken up to both Shoko and Suguru gone. Presumably already headed to the dining room or so. His room is blissfully silent but there’s still the traces of strewn blankets and tossed about comic books lying about his room. Yaga-sensei would have a field day during his surprise inspection if Satoru doesn’t clean up the mess.
But then again, that’s a problem for future-Satoru to tackle, Satoru decides. Picking himself up from his own pile of blankets.
Today’s a break day, presumably suggested by Yaga-sensei who saw how ragged the three of them were after traveling all about Japan for consecutives missions that left them yearning for the comfort of their dorm. That’s a thing that future-Satoru won’t have to worry about, once he gets the hang of reverse curse energy. Or, as Shoko puts it, ‘fwoosh and fwish’, whatever the hell that means.
But current-Satoru is a sleep deprived thing that yearns for the comfort of free time and won’t be denied. Not that Yaga-sensei has the heart to deny them, anyways, after seeing just how tired the three of them were.
Satoru glances at the clock, he’s woken up a bit late today. Leaning towards the evening and not the usual mornings that he should show. But it’s not like there’d be class today either.
The spaces next to him are still warm with heat, presumably meaning that Shoko and Suguru hadn’t left for long. That’s nice, it’d mean that Satoru would have someone to eat breakfast- lunch?- with.
He makes his way towards the dining hall. None too fast because neither Suguru or Shoko are fast eaters. They’re rather slow, actually, the perks of growing up being taught social norms or whatever. Clearly they haven’t eaten once with someone like Obito’s cousin, Toji, who’s the embodiment of ‘petty adult’ who’d eat all your share of food within a second of you letting your guard down.
What he comes to is the sight of both Shoko and Suguru peering over the twins, who should very much not be here right now and rather at their little kiddy school.
“What’s up?” Satoru asks as he approaches, letting both his arms wrap around Shoko and Suguru’s neck. They both jolt a bit at his approach. Suguru apparently isn’t in the mood to make a fuss about it, and neither is Shoko. Which means that they’re either tired out of their mind or something else is taking precedent.
Considering that they’ve had a very healthy sleep, it’d only mean one thing:
Something the twins say is important enough for them to dismiss their usual antics with Satoru.
Which means nothing good. Considering that this feels awfully out of the twin’s schedule. The twins are still dressed in their colorful pajamas and their hair is still messy- sticking up here and there. Meaning that Obito hadn’t woken up in time to tell them to get dressed and ready for their school.
The twins don’t seem sick, from what he sees, and neither does it seem like it’s one of those rest days. If it were, then the twins would most likely be in Obito’s dorm now with him idling his day away with them.
Instead their faces are pinched and frustrated. There’s some intense confusion on Mai’s features and something like mullish stubbornness in Maki’s.
“Mai says that Obito didn’t wake them up today,” Suguru explains. Both his hands are absentmindedly trying to calm down the girls’ hair.
“And Mai says that Maki can’t see him,” Shoko adds, chewing on one candy or another. “So Mai thinks that Maki’s playing a trick on her.”
“I’m not,” Maki protests petulantly. Satoru’s starting to get the picture now. But he doesn't get what the picture means.
“Well, I see him,” Mai says, her features wrapped up into a frown. Making it clear that this will devolve into a rare incident of the twins arguing when they’re normally as attached and cohesive as glue and more glue. “And nii-san looks all different now! But Maki says she can’t see it, so they’re both playing a prank on me right?”
“I’m not,” Maki repeats, her frown getting worse by the second.
“Alright, alright.” Shoko pats both of their cheeks, kneading away their frowns. Clearly she knows where this road is here, and clearly neither she nor anyone here wants to see the twins get into an altercation when it’s clear that there’s something about and Obito isn’t the type to both let the twins miss school while also changing up his appearance without notice.
Satoru knows at least that much about him.
“Let’s go check up on Obito then, alright?” Suguru placates, his smile soothing. It’s the nice kind of smile that isn’t the distant kind reserved for strangers. It’s also slightly helpless as though he’s just as desperate to get the twins to not argue.
“And I’ll get them back for you if they’re really tricking you,” Satoru teases, just to get the twins to smile. Mai doesn’t quite get there, but Maki does frown at him comically, as though trying to intimidate him into taking his words back. It doesn’t work.
“Alright, alright, let’s go.” Shoko’s hands move in a herding gesture, shooing the twins back towards the dorms.
The twins both eagerly begin to walk back- as though trying to one-up one another. It's rare to see them like this. But Satoru supposes that it’s probably been a confusing morning for them. He’s not sure what’s got them worked up like this, but it must be something for both of them to miss school and for Obito to not help comb through their hair- breaking from a morning ritual that he never has quite done before.
Sartoru’s not sure what the twin’s account means either, he’s sure that Maki and Mai seem certain on what happened and neither of them seemed like they’re lying. None of their usual tells are there. Mai seems genuinely confused and Maki seems just as frustrated.
He’s not sure where the pieces add up, but it’s making a bad feeling brew in his gut.
From Suguru and Shoko’s exchange of glances, they seem to feel the same.
“You think he’s sick?” Suguru asks quietly, the three of them trailing some distance after the twins.
“Maybe,” Satoru answers noncommittally.
“We’ve been gone a few days, so he could’ve gotten sick during that,” Shoko adds.
“The twins would’ve just said that,” Suguru argues, as though forgetting that he was the one who brought it up in the first place.
Both Satoru and Shoko gave him a playful punch for that one, he just rolls his eyes. His hair is still lying untied around his shoulders. Not quite as messy as the twin’s, but his first encounter on this fine morning has clearly been the twins.
“You think Obito’s just gotten into a pranking mood?” Satoru proposes.
“Anyone got something worth a surprise party coming up?” Shoko drawls, moving right past Satoru’s suggestion. Ouch.
Satoru doesn’t get why their high opinion of Obito doesn’t extend to himself. He can look the part of the honor student, he swears. And it’s not like Obito’s got a perfect record either with all of his absences and lateness- but somehow Obito’s temperament just makes you believe he’s a more serious person than he is. Which, well, is true in most cases. But Satoru thinks Obito would at least be partial to a prank if it were one of his sisters suggesting it.
Suguru seems to consider this question for a moment before shaking his head. “No.”
Shoko just sighs and chews harsher- making a cracking sound from the hard candy. If she could, no doubt she’d be smoking. But Shoko at least has her limits and one of them is not smoking in front of children.
The path is familiar, at least. So they don’t need to think too much about the path there that would take their attention off the issue at hand.
They pass around suggestions, it distracts them from the feeling of unease in their veins. It makes them feel like they’re doing something about whatever’s going on and Satoru has no doubt that Suguru already has Yaga-sensei on speed dial if need be.
Not that it should get serious, not on a day like this. Satoru hadn’t quite recalled what Obito looked like the last time they met, but it should be fine- probably? He hadn’t looked sickly or anything, and his mood was as fine as it can get with him and the twins waving the three of them off to their extended mission.
But Satoru’s gut churns with something unpleasant all the same, his nerves are constantly being set off. As though hearing a constant, miniscule sound of nails against chalkboard in the backdrop. But the sound isn’t quite there so much as Satoru’s uneasiness.
They eventually involve the twins into the conversation, seeing as they’re just about as anxious- if not more- about the situation. It serves to distract them a bit, though they still pace with frantic energy that’ll net them an earlier bedtime at this rate.
Satoru’s feeling of unease grows even stronger the more he approaches Obito’s dorm room. The sound of nails against chalkboard grows louder the more steps he takes. He feels himself tensing as though on reflex, unable to keep up his jovial tone for long.
He isn’t sure why. But it feels familiar but this familiarity is wrong.
It doesn’t belong here.
Suguru and Shoko seem to feel the same, if their uncomfortable expressions were anything to tell by. Suguru is still putting up a good front with the twins, but Satoru can tell that he’s also tensing for a battle that they shouldn’t be in for. All the while Shoko’s also getting agitated, she doesn’t speak often perhaps in fear of alerting the twins to the fact that something is wrong. Especially when they don’t know what is wrong other than the fact that it just is.
Satoru’s the first one to put his hand on the doorknob. And no stronger is the feeling of wrongness than it is here, right in front of Obito’s door.
A part of Satoru already knows why it feels familiar.
Another part of him doesn’t want to know why.
But he opens the door regardless.
And what greets them is this-
Zen’in Obito stands behind that door. He’s standing up, gazing back at them. His eyes the same dark murkiness that it’s always is, but the rest of him is wrong, wrong, wrong.
He looks older, the lines of age carved upon his features. Taking away the fat of youth and chipping down the softness of teenagehood. But what is even more wrong is the color of his hair- sapped of ink. What is even more, more wrong is his face scarred by some terrible hand. What is even more, more, more wrong is his heart, which Satoru cannot hear.
And what is the most wrong is this-
He bears the signature of a curse.
Uchiha Obito looks at him, a curse remade into human.
Zen’in Obito- from years and years later- looks at them.
A curse.