Zetsu had never been a man of faith, religious or otherwise. He had come to terms with the world's cruel tendencies long ago, and was by now content to watch life pass him by. Enlisted as a spy for the Akatsuki's various needs, he'd witnessed the horrors of mankind at its worst, and caught rare glimpses of human kindness at its best. He preferred the latter, but it truly was a rare find in a world such as his own. Life wasn't like the stories you read in books. As a child, he'd seen the world through paper and parchment, in novels and in scrolls. But by then, the world had changed—they were in a time of war, and the printed words had outgrown their use and no longer spoke the truth. He'd been born into a family of nobles, and had once led a less than modest lifestyle; a lifestyle of which Kakuzu would have greatly approved—surrounded by riches and bathed in luxury. He'd been a normal child back then, but had kept mostly to himself.
He had fostered a love for literature which had rivaled that of even a prodigy such as Itachi himself, and would read for hours at a time, for the portentous life he led was far less interesting than what lie between the faded pages of his favorite adventure novel. He's always loved the villains more than the heroes, even though he'd never seen true villainy in practice. They seemed far more realistic in character—penchant men with tragic histories and scars to show for it—than the heroes who came from a life of splendor and wealth. People such as himself. He had always been such an insightful young man, but painfully naïveto the world's ever-changing ways. War now plagued the countryside, and he knew little of warfare. He'd read books that told of war before, but in books, the wars were always fought for a noble cause. Always. Innocents never died, and the war only really lasted for one night, when the major battle was fought. Civilians were never targeted, for it was not the way of a warrior to harm an innocent.
He learned otherwise the night his family was killed.
They were Suna nin, the men that attacked his home. That was all he remembered about that night, aside from the murder they had committed. They had slain his father and his mother…and he'd had a brother as well, he distantly recalled, whom had been very young at the time. They had not killed him, nor his younger brother. Instead, they had taken them hostage that night, bound and gagged on the back of a horse loaded with whatever they had stolen from the house. Neither of them knew what to expect, and Aeiyu (his brother), cried for the first time in years that night. His tears, not the kidnapping itself, was what drove fear into Zetsu's heart. They were separated the next morning as the group of murderers split into two segments, for reasons unknown. That was the last time he ever saw his brother, and a part of him would always remember Aeiyu's tearstained face. Whatever became of him, Zetsu did not know. But he himself became an experiment of war.
"We need a weapon," they had said, "a human weapon. One like nothing that has ever been seen before!"
And so, he was put through rigorous training at the age of eleven, and trained as a spy for an organization known as ANBU. He'd always known them to be the heroes of society, but they were not nearly as saintly as they would have you believe. In fact, they were anything but. The government in Suna, as well as neighboring regions in Konoha and Amegakure, was corrupt and unstable.
It wasn't uncommon to hear rumors of a coup d'état—behind closed doors, of course. Trust was hard to come by these days. So were decent fighters. That was why, in addition to Zetsu's normal training regimen, they initiated him into chemical enhancement procedures. Later in life, he witnessed similar experiments carried out by Orochimaru, whom often dabbled in DNA mixing and other such forbidden jutsu. The same had been done to him—but it was not animal DNA that he received. Three years into the treatment, he developed an alter ego, known today as "dark Zetsu". He feared his other half immensely in the beginning, but after a while it became the closest thing he had to a friend, though they always disagreed. Dark Zetsu refused to agree with him on anything, be it the simplest matter of who to eat for lunch, or critical ones that involved a level head, such as which way a target had gone. He'd developed cannibalism, ironically characterized by the venus flytrap appendage surrounding his head. He was in no way an innocent young boy anymore. He had seen far too much, had done things that haunted him in his sleep. He no longer feared death—he feared pain far more, and was forced to face that fear every day of his life.
So it was no surprise that, when he found the opportunity to escape in the midst of an attack on their home base, he grasped it, and fled to the furthest reaches of Konoha's outlying territory. It was no man's land, but not for long. No one could deny that the war would soon find its way here as well. As much as he longed for peace, Zetsu was no longer naïve enough to believe the war would stop anytime soon, simply because of a small strip of land they were supposedly "forbidden" to tread. But Zetsu could not stay here. He bore the mark of the enemy, for he wore their clothes and had nothing else to wear—and here he was, residing in the territory of the opposing village, well-known to be a spy. How convenient.
And then he met them. An assortment of freaks who, like him, were no longer quite as sane as they used to be. And each of them had a story behind them, like any good villain. Except, these men weren't really villains—their actions, however questionable, aimed for the acquisition peace. Akatsuki. His new home. His new family.
A new beginning.
Pein took him in graciously, making good use of his former training. He traveled freely throughout the country on various scouting missions, uncovering vital information, retrieving scrolls, and disposing of bodies. It was a life he was content to live. In the back of his mind, he felt as though he was reliving one of his favorite books. He was content—but not happy. He still saw the world for what it was. He longed to go back to knowing it as it had been when he was young—a place to be explored, a place to love and be loved. Pure and noble, as he'd always read it to be. But he only saw it now through scarlet lenses, stained with blood. There had always been something missing, something that every good novel had, even if it was only faintly mentioned. Romance. His story was not complete without it. Once, he'd felt that love was infinitely far out of reach—back when he was a testing subject—for who could love a monster in a world so cruel as this?
But he was free now, was he not? Besides, even the Akatsuki organization had found lovers within headquarters. He frequently saw Sasori and Deidara together, and there was no denying that Hidan made an ass of himself more than usual in Kakuzu's presence. Pein and Konan spoke for themselves, as neither one was ever seen without the other, and even Itachi and Kisame seemed to get along quite well with one another. The two-man teams were uneven on his end—there were currently nine members. Zestu briefly mused that Deidara would have been his partner if Orochimaru had not left. So Zetsu worked alone, and found that being alone was, ironically, a lonely experience.
He found the cure for his isolation one day in the form of an impish stranger; a man who read maps sideways and was thoroughly convinced that women did indeed hail from Venus. One whose temper was short, and possessed an attention span the size of a grape seed. That man was Tobi. It was a chance encounter, in which Zetsu lost a lemon pastry, only to have it replaced by an empty platter and an unannounced guest (to this day, Zetsu grieves the loss of his lemon tart). The masked stranger was seated complacently amongst Zetsu's few belongings, face concealed but exuding an air of satisfaction. Zetsu just stared at him for an agonizingly long period of time. Just as his stare was about to pierce a hole through the newcomer's forehead, said man finally found his voice.
"He started it," he said simply, finger pointed accusingly at the empty platter. Zetsu took a moment to process the stranger's odd comment, if only to assure himself that he'd heard him correctly.
"The pastry…is of the male persuasion?"
"Was of the male persuasion, he means. Bitch ate it all." his dark half complained. Zetsu's light half scrambled to make amends for it, but the masked man was seemingly unphased by this sudden outburst. If anything, it almost looked as if he'd just nodded in agreement with the schizo's darker half.
"It was a boy pastry, and it's his own fault for looking so tasty. It's such a pity—such a young soul; he barely got to see the world before he met his tragic end." the stranger pondered solemnly, head bent as if in genuine sorrow. Zetsu found himself staring again, out of sheer disbelief.
"I'm Tobi, by the way," the masked nin announced abruptly, wrapping his arms around his knees and rocking forward. He rested his chin on his folded arms, a posture that indicated he was in no hurry to leave. Clearly, he hadn't come to eat and run. But if this was the case, what was he doing here?
"Well, Tobi," his dark half sneered, "You owe me. And don't think I won't remember! I never forget".
Those last three words hung uncomfortably between them. Simple words that, for Zetsu, held a much greater meaning than in the way he'd just spoken them. No, Zetsu would never forget…he would always remember. The good and the bad, the memories and the nightmares. Apparitions that haunted him in the waking realm as well as in sleep. No event was small enough to escape his notice, not even one so trivial as this. Silence fell between them.
The masked man—Tobi's— tilted his head to one side, and Zetsu mentally pictured the face of an inquisitive puppy behind the swirled clay mask the odd man was wearing. He took this opportunity to fully take in his appearance. Along with the mask that shrouded his features, he donned a scarf that was such a dark green that it appeared black, and it swathed languidly over his shoulder. He wore a suit that greatly resembled battle armor, with black metal platelets that lined the sides of his body. His hair was a prickly mass of black, and his current posture suggested that he was content. And why not? He'd enjoyed a free breakfast at Zetsu's expense.
"Tobi has no money, but he can make it up to you. What is it that you want, other than money?"
The masked nin's tone was formal and sincere, a polar opposite of his petulant whining from earlier. He'd referred to himself in third person. Unusual, but not unheard of—Zetsu had heard this type of speech before. It was more common near the fishing ports and loading docks in major trading hubs—mostly villages such Kirigakure and its neighboring territories. Zetsu saw no headband on Tobi to tell of his origins, but he was willing to bet that the dialect he spoke was of that region. The man's formality on the other hand was certainly not a trait one could pick up in Kirigakure. The nation was poor and somewhat destitute, and they often spoke with slurring syllables and with a gravelly edge to their voice—of course, most of these villagers were fisherman who lived a difficult, often penniless lifestyle.
Somehow, Zetsu could not quite place the man before him in a setting such as that. He was too keen and lively, whereas the citizens at the ports were broken and restless.
"None of us has money these days," he conceded bleakly, "so it's not like I don't understand your motives for stealing my breakfast. Not that it makes me any happier for my loss, but…" he ended his statement with a shrug.
"Hey, I told you. He started it."
"You're still going on about that, then?" his voice was just short of incredulous. Tobi gave what sounded like an irritated huff in response. Zetsu suppressed a smile. The kid had guts, that was for sure. He was fearless, if not stupid.
"Tell you what, here's what we'll do. My boss sent me out here to this dismal middle of nowhere to find…a certain something. I'm not sure why he wants it, but it's important to him—and I have no idea where to start looking. Since you know the area better than I do, perhaps you may be able to help me. This something I'm looking for…it's a scroll of sorts, but it…well…" Zetsu hesitated, not sure where the idea to confide top secret business to a complete stranger had come from. He pushed on, deciding that if worse came to worse, he'd kill the bastard anyway.
"The scroll is sealed with a demon's curse. Orochimaru's seal, actually. And I've been sent to retrieve it. He's dangerous with this scroll, you see, and he has threatened to declare war on all the villages many times before. Our goal is to keep him from gaining anymore power. If you help me find it…then we're even."
"That sounds kind of hazardous to Tobi's health. After all, I'm only indebted to you over a pastry. Tobi isn't sure if this is such a fair trade."
"It was my pastry. That changes everything! Have we got a deal?"
"…Okay. Tobi agrees. But only if you throw in lunch as a bonus. Something this dangerous earns me at least two meals."
Zetsu's eyes narrowed, but he reluctantly extended his hand in agreement. And so, an alliance was formed…