Title: Sincerely Me
Description: Forget insomnia pills, Tobi has a newfangled way of curing sleepless nights. Tobito theory implied.
Pairings: None intended.
Rating: K+
Warnings: None really except for theory rumors

Disclaimer: If I owned Naruto (which I don't, sadly), the Kakashi gaiden would've been aired instead of hideous fillers, KakaSaku innuendos would be overwhelming, and Hayate would be resurrected to frolic with Genma. And maybe Raidou as well...


I don't think I can deal with the things you said

It just won't go away

oOo

Tobi was never one to question his senpai. The blonde-haired artist was one who he trusted his life with, even when the older man seemed to not care in the least for him and regularly told his orange-masked partner to 'stick an exploding tag to his ass and see what happens'. Tobi, in all honesty, was tempted to try just that if it meant his senpai would accept him that much more. He'd gotten as far as attaching the paper explosive to the end of his cloak before Zetsu, bless the autotrophic man, convinced him otherwise.

Tobi didn't know what to do to earn his craving for acceptance. Not even now as he lay in the dark on a standard-issue cot that was pushed against the left side of the wall. He turned his one-eyed gaze from the ceiling to where his senpai dozed on the cot across the room, pushed up against the right side of the wall. The black-haired Akatsuki tried many times to push his bed closer to his dear senpai, to fill up that desolate space between them, but the short-tempered Iwa-nin pushed him right back rather forcefully.

It seemed it would another sleepless night for naive, little Tobi. Insomnia had cursed him for the past few months, creating dark bruises under his hidden eyes. Memories from a past life had plagued him, causing abrupt confusion as images of a silver-haired preteen lectured him for being late, a sepia-haired kunoichi tending his battle wounds and a golden-haired man who told him 'good job'. The visages never lasted long and Tobi knew how to push the dreadful apparitions to the far back of his mind. He didn't like feeling the suffocating befuddlement that the supposed 'memories' stirred. So he ignored them. Or tried to.

Tobi sighed softly, tapping his fingers against the blue sheets he rested upon. He did not want to wake his senpai, fearing that a punishment would come henceforth, but was urged to tell his faithful superior of the faded memories. Tobi rolled over quietly onto his stomach and cupped his hands over his covered mouth and whispered, "Deidara-senpai..."

No response.

A little louder this time, "Deidara-senpai."

A rustle of sheets, but still no response.

Turning up the volume a smidgen, "Deidara-sen – "

"WHAT."

Tobi quickly covered his mouth (despite the swirled mask that already had that taken care of) with a small squeak and cringed slightly, awaiting the evident beating to commence for disturbing his senpai's beauty sleep. Much to Tobi's relief, Deidara only glared at his eye-hole from way across the room. Finally obtaining his senpai's attention, Tobi shyly twiddled his thumbs, "I can't sleep."

Smoldering silently, Deidara seethed. He gripped his blue sheets in balled fists, trying not to fling himself across the room to wring the unlucky masked man's neck. Instead, taking the high road (and the advice from his anger management group), the clay artist slowly exhaled and tried to ignore the throbbing vein upon his temple.

Knowing he'd be told sooner or later, Deidara ran a hand down his face as he halfheartedly asked, "And why is that, un?"

Tobi, elated that his senpai was so direly concerned for his well-being, exuberantly flounced upon his back, folding his hands behind his head, ready to pour out his heart, "These people won't leave me alone and I don't know who they are! They keep coming each night and I can't sleep 'cause of it."

Deidara rolled his eyes, not understanding his partner's prattling one bit.

But then again, who really did understand Tobi?

Trying to salvage as much sleep as he could, the missing-nin monotonously suggested, "Write a complaint letter."

Completely oblivious to his senpai's mocking, Tobi eagerly sat up, "A letter?"

The blonde-haired ninja twisted in his earplugs and absently nodded, "Yeah, yeah. Just shut up and let me get some sleep, dumbass."

Never to question his senpai, Tobi shot off the cot and hurried toward the small desk where pen and paper lay. Gathering his supplies, the orange-masked nin bounced back into his bed and grabbed hold of his blue-inked pen and set it to the parchment.

Dear ...

Tobi pouted at his predicament. He didn't know who they were, so who was this letter to? 'Strangers' sounded so cold. Sure, he was a little miffed at the black circles under his eyes every night, but there was no need to be rude. 'Acquaintances' was too friendly. He had never met these people before, had he? He must've or why else would they manifest in his conscience? Tobi scratched his head in absolute puzzlement. This was not going well.

A lightbulb flashed above the Akatsuki's head as inspiration struck gold.

The night was silent all the way through, much to Deidara's happiness, save for the light scribbling upon crisp paper.

oOo

Tobi had to deliver it. He knew deep in his heart that the sleepless nights would continue if he failed to present the precious letter to those who it inscribed. Tobi, again, was at another loss as to what address he should mail it to. Were the people still alive? Were they shinobi? Enemies? Even real? Tobi nodded his head firmly at the latter. Yes, they were real. Something in his deep sub-conscience assured him that they were very real. But where to send it...?

"Tobi! Hurry the hell up! Leader-sama will skin us both alive if we don't get that information on the Kyuubi, un."

The masked Akatsuki gazed at the letter in his hands fondly before folding it into his kunai holster within his cloak. "Coming, Deidara-senpai!"

As the two partners sprinted through the condensed forest, Tobi only half-listened to the briefing Deidara gave containing the details of their mission. His mind was too preoccupied with the process of getting the letter to its recipient. He couldn't just waltz into a post office, could he? He needed a confirmed address. Tobi dodged a branch that was haphazardly hanging in his path. Maybe he could –

"OI! Are you listening to me at all, un?"

Tobi snapped up his head and managed to look sheepish despite the swirled mask covering his facial expressions, "What was that, Deidara-senpai?"

Deidara groaned, knowing the day was going to be an assuredly long one, "I was saying that the Kyuubi brat is on a mission with his team. We'll ambush them and see what we find, un."

Tobi only nodded distractedly. His senpai quirked an eyebrow at his subordinate's lack of enthusiasm or general pain-in-the-ass chatter. Quiet never fit Tobi. It was disconcerting, to say the least. Deidara tore his smoky-blue gaze off his partner and back to the unmarked path ahead, trying to convince himself that it wasn't worry that was nibbling at his insides.

The two Akatsuki dropped from the trees into a dense brush that hid their physical bodies well. Deidara smirked, "We'll wait here. They're coming right for us, un."

Tobi wasn't listening. Quietly, he thumbed the letter in his kunai pouch, imagining the words he'd scrawled only hours before. He wished desperately that it would work. It had to. Deidara-senpai was always right – he should never question the artist's judgement. Tobi reprimanded himself softly in his head, not hearing his blonde-haired accomplice whisper excitedly that the Kyuubi brat was alone, save his sensei.

"...old man. Rumors and legends are just that, Tobi. We'll see if he's as good as they say, un. On my count, we'll..."

Tobi still wasn't listening. He was staring intently at the man who had just entered the thicket with a golden-haired teen in tow. The supposed 'Kyuubi brat' looked too familiar somehow, but Tobi was sure he'd never seen him before (despite Deidara-senpai's many rants on how annoying the fifteen-year-old was). It wasn't the blue-eyed nin who caught his immediate attention, however, even though he was their target. The man, the boy's sensei. The silver hair that ignored gravity and shimmered in the bright noon sun, illuminating white glimmers here and there and the mask that hid his lower features intrigued Tobi, setting off his mind into overdrive.

Too familiar, too familiar.

The orange-masked Akatsuki could feel Deidara tense beside him, probably about to fling some explosives for a surprise entrance.

"I call the brat. You handle the old man."

Tobi could feel himself nod at the command, but he couldn't take his eyes off the silver-haired ninja. The way he walked with an almost haughty air, and yet still seemed so casual (dare he say lazy) – it sent a convulsion of familiarity, of memory. Tobi knew this man. Tobi was sure he'd been in his presence before. Perhaps in younger days, though. The alleged 'old man' seemed taller than Tobi remembered.

Puzzlement ringing in his ears, Tobi poked Deidara hard in the ribs, whispering, "Who's he, senpai?"

Deidara scowled at the poke before turning his head towards Tobi, eyeing him incredulously, "Copy-cat Kakashi. Kakashi of the Sharingan. Konoha White Fang's son. Kakashi. I know you're a little..well okay, really stupid, but I would've thought you'd known that, un."

Kakashi. It sounded so familiar. Tobi pondered the name as Deidara continued, "But that doesn't matter now. We're gonna rush in approximately three seconds after the explosion. I go after the kid, you stick by the jounin."

Tobi only half-listened, still trying to find where Kakashi connected within his life. He was pulled out of his reverie as a harsh pull on his Akatsuki cloak tugged him towards Deidara's menacing face, "Don't screw up."

Tobi smiled at his senpai and cheekily replied, "Hai, hai. Tobi's a good boy."

Deidara rolled his eyes as he began molding explosive clay within his hands, "Yeah, yeah. Whatever, un"

Tobi resumed staring at the copy-nin, fully focused on how the jounin moved lithely, talked softly in a low murmur with the teen and how his lone, grey iris gave away nothing, staring straight into his mask's eye-hole. No emotions, it appeared. Tobi tilted his head slightly in wonder. Was he a stickler for rules? That seemed right, somehow...

Tobi jumped when he heard the explosion of clay and watched, dazed and still slightly alarmed, as Deidara began to crouch, fisting a few shuriken within his hands.

"One.."

Tobi glanced back at the two ninja as the smoke enveloped their bodies.

"Two.."

Something clicked. The silver-hair, the mask... Could it be?

"Three!"

Deidara disappeared from Tobi's side and commenced with ambushing the Kyuubi container, leading the boy away from his protective and powerful sensei. Tobi watched from the sidelines as the smoke and his senpai eventually separated the two, leaving Kakashi alone in the clearing, a kunai in hand and a battle stance ready. He knew Tobi was there, the black-haired Akatsuki was positive. He knew he had to move quickly or Deidara would snap his neck for abandoning him in battle.

But Tobi was still reeling. Kakashi.. He was the silver-haired boy that kept sleep at bay. Tobi had no time to wonder where the golden-haired man and the sepia-haired kunoichi were. The masked missing-nin fingered the letter in his pouch once again. He had to give it to him.

"There's no point in hiding."

Tobi snapped his head back up from where it was gazing at his kunai pouch. Kakashi was staring right into his eye-hole, even with the measurable distance between them. He was skilled, not rushing in irrationally, but waiting for his opponent to make the first move. Tobi sighed softly and gripped the letter. Now or never.

Slowly, the Akatsuki rose from the brush and stepped into the clearing. The sun pounded upon his tall form, creating waves of heat due to his heavy cloaking. The air was crisp and cool, betraying the sun's warmth. Tobi halted a good ten feet away from his target, set about remaining peaceful with the man so he could deliver the paper without incident. He should've been planning his means of attack, he should've been manning his defensive zones. Something in his deep conscience, however, urged him that Kakashi wasn't an enemy. He never had been.

Kakashi tensed only slightly, barely noticeable, when the orange-masked foe stepped out of his cover. Peculiarly, the copy-nin felt no spikes in chakra, no killing intent, nothing that would ever depict this fellow as an actual Akatsuki member. The black-haired nin's stance was nonthreatening, casual in a guarded way. Kakashi raised an eyebrow while waiting for his opponent to begin the evident fight.

Tobi could feel the sharingan user's intense, one-eyed gaze upon his figure, calculating every breath and each pulse. Slowly, like handling a frightened dog, Tobi reached into his kunai pouch and drew out the folded letter. The naive ninja only had seconds to duck from a whizzing kunai. Apparently, it seemed that the piece of paper looked more like an explosive tag than a friendly correspondent. Tobi swallowed the adrenaline that egged him on to throw in a good punch or two and focused upon his sub-conscience's reassurance that the famed copy-nin was no enemy. Just confused. Just like him.

"Here."

Kakashi felt his fingers twitch and his other eyebrow raise to join its twin brother when the Akatsuki before him stretched his arm out, a folded piece of parchment in hand. The silver-haired copy-nin had been on the receiving end of many clever tricks the enemy tried to pull (some more clever than others), but never before had he been offered a piece of paper. Just when Kakashi was reaching for another kunai, the Akatsuki persisted.

"Please. Take it. I promise it's nothing bad."

Tobi kept his arm steady even as his heart pounded sporadically in his chest cavity. He needed Kakashi to take the letter. The masked missing-nin wanted to sleep again and not ache from memories that seemed so foreign. Cautiously, Tobi took another step towards the elite jounin. Wrong move.

Tobi's vision blurred as the copy-nin suddenly sprang from his position. Instinctually, the Akatsuki retrieved and held up a kunai just in time, blocking an otherwise deadly blow by the infamous sharingan user. Kakashi pressed his own kunai against Tobi's, trying to achieve the upper hand. He stared into the blackened hole in the tall man's mask, trying to find the eye he was sure lay beneath it.

Tobi caught his breath, gazing into Kakashi's mismatched irises. The scarlet left orb made his head ache with remembrance, those spinning tomoes representing so much more than just death and danger. Tobi never struggled against the silver-maned Konoha ninja, his bolted right arm contributing much into the heated battle of endurance.

Tobi stared pleadingly into Kakashi's intense eyes, trying to convey his message that was so urgent, "Please."

The orange-masked Akatsuki released his left hand's grip upon the kunai to transfer the now crumpled letter into that hand from his right. Kakashi kept his stare steady with Tobi's own. Tobi rubbed the creases of his precious paper with his thumb before offering it again to the copy-nin, "Take it, please? Would you take it if I left it on the ground and went away? If I stopped Deidara's fight with the Kyuubi boy? Anything."

He was insane, Kakashi concluded. An Akatsuki betraying one of his own for the enemy? Over a mere scrap of paper? Despite Kakash's strict hold on his self-control, he couldn't help the sudden peek of his curiosity at just what the paper inscribed. He loosened his grip upon his kunai just slightly. Tobi took it as acceptance.

The black-haired ninja pushed off Kakashi's dagger, skidding away about a decent eleven feet, enough space between the two foes. Kakashi was left standing alone with a scratched kunai, a bit dumbfounded. Tobi took his letter into both his hands and gazed at it longingly before meeting the familiar man's eye once more.

Tobi smiled and let the paper flutter to the ground, "Thank you, Kakashi."

His mind feeling that much more settled, Tobi dashed off to where his senpai fought the blonde and blue-eyed kid in a swirl of leaves. Kakashi watched the spot where the Akatsuki disappeared until he could no longer detect any chakra for miles. He knew that he shouldn't trust an enemy (an Akatsuki no less) with the life of his student, one of his last remaining precious people.

But somehow, his deep sub-conscience assured him that he could. Naruto would be safe.

Kakashi slowly sauntered over to where the forgotten paper laid and stood before it, observing it's numerous crinkles and folded creases. He bent down and picked it up and began unfolding, revealing a letter.

Kakashi bit the inside of his cheek.

The penmanship shouldn't have looked so familiar.

Dear silver-haired boy, golden-haired man and sepia-haired girl,

For the past couple months, you've been keeping me awake at night, showing me memories that I just can't remember, no matter how hard I try to. I've tried to block them out, but you all are just so stubborn. I maybe wouldn't mind so much if the memories and images were always happy, but a lot of them are so painful to watch. It makes my heart ache and I don't know why. I don't want to see them anymore. I'm sorry if that upsets you, but I want to sleep.

I can't sleep. I have such black circles under my eyes and Deidara-senpai is getting mad. I try to tell him about you all, but he doesn't understand even though I think he sometimes tries to. He says to write a complaint letter to you guys, but I don't want to be rude and I don't want to complain. I just want to understand and perhaps make the images stop.

Golden-haired man: Thanks for your encouragement and always believing in me, but I think you've got the wrong guy. Whenever you stare at me with your bright blue eyes, I feel you staring at someone else, someone who isn't me. Not anymore, at least. I want to believe you so bad when you say you're proud of me, but I know the person you're talking to isn't here right now. I'm sorry, but please don't smile at me like that anymore. Save it for the person you're really smiling for. It's a very nice smile and I want the person you meant it for to receive it.

Sepia-haired girl: Don't be so sad. Whenever you cry like that, staring at me like I'm going to die, it makes me cry too. You're just like the golden-haired man. You're not really looking at me, but someone else and I'm not sure who. I hope he's okay, whoever he is. I don't want him to die or be dead, not if it makes you cry like that. You look so much more prettier when tears aren't clouding your eyes. I don't want you to cry, especially for me, 'cause it's not me you're really crying for. It's for someone else, someone really special, I can tell. I hope he's okay 'cause he sure is lucky to have someone like you care so deeply for him.

Silver-haired boy: You don't understand anything and don't stare at me like that. It's not your fault, not any of it. I want to say that I don't blame you for anything, but I know it's not me your yelling at, berating, and crying for (yes, you were crying – accept it). I'm not responsible for the anguish in your eyes as you stare down at me (but not really me), not believing anything you're seeing. It's someone else, someone you didn't know you cared for, not until it was too late. That makes me sad. Didn't you ever think that he may care for you too? Maybe he wanted to be your friend, despite being childish and rash? But it's not my place, even though I sometimes believe it is when you look at me like that. But what I really want to ask you is to not look so alone. Be happy, for once don't follow rules so strictly, and don't always think that you know someone. You make me want to hug you when you're staring off into the distance, seeing something that isn't there. Like me. Like the boy you call "Obito" . You look so cold, so dreadfully shaken that I just want you to let someone in, anyone. You can't be alone in this world and despite all the rules and codes, you do need someone beside you. I want to be that person sometimes, when you are looking down at me, tears streaming down only one side of your hidden face from your crimson eye. But I can't be because it isn't me who you are staring at, but someone you just realized was your friend. I hope you become friends with him. He seems nice, even though you really should stop calling him a crybaby. Please stop staring at me with your anguished eyes, filled with so much repressed remorse and pain. It makes me think that it's really me that you're staring at. I don't want to think that, because I know it's not true.

I hope my letter wasn't pushy or filled with complaints. Deidara-senpai says that I need to be aggressive and assertive when writing a complaint letter, but I don't think this is a complaint letter anymore. It's just a letter asking for something. That sounds nicer. Please try and not pop into my head and make me toss and turn every night. I need to be a good boy for senpai and I can't do that if I'm dead on my feet all the time.

I hope you all find this "Obito" person. He deserves you, not me.

Best wishes and love,

Tobi

oOo

A/N: A slightly more 'happy' version of my other fic Height Difference. Tobi is such a loveable character and I can imagine him writing a letter to someone in full honesty. I hope I explained the situation well – how Kakashi doesn't go after Naruto and how Tobi doesn't feel that Kakashi is an enemy. This is most definitely a Tobito theory in its prime. I can only wish that it's true.

I reread Tobi's letter and I find that the individual sub-letters to "the golden-haired man", "sepia-haired girl" and "silver-haired boy" may be a bit hazy with just exactly what memories were conveyed. Yondaime-sensei is pretty self-explanatory. Rin is basically when Obito is trapped under the rocks and she's knelt beside him in tears. Kakashi is a thorough roundabout of his character but mostly just after the eye transplant. Tobi didn't lie when he said that a good portion of the images were painful to watch.

I was going to add a little more to the end, after the letter, with Kakashi's reaction, but I left it open-ended and up for grabs. I'm confident that you fellow fanfic-writers/readers can stir up enough imagination and fill in the blanks. : )

I hope you all enjoyed and please review! Your opinions, suggestions and comments help me to become a better writer (and that's beneficial to all of us).

- - H. 92