Tobi paused, seriously considering going after Kakashi and ripping the child from his arms and killing it in front of him just to watch him suffer despite the damage that doing such would do to Madara's plans. Kakashi deserved to suffer for what he'd done, and considering how Jinchuriki were usually treated, the kid would be better off dead. Seeing Kakashi make his way to one of his former sensei's safe houses had torn him in two directions, part of him wanted to kill his father, and another part of him wanted to kill the kid. The kid who shall remain nameless since the name that he had discarded would never belong to him was important for future plans though, and his father wasn't, and that was what had finally decided it for him.
Though he hadn't been back to Konoha since the night of the failed Kyuubi attack, he had received a number of highly accurate intelligence reports on the current events of the village in which he'd been born in the three years since then. He still felt pangs of guilt when he thought about what he'd done to Kushina-nee that night, and how she hadn't died instantly despite the fact that the Kyuubi had literally ripped itself out of her, but he swiftly squashed them before they could go beyond the level of guilt one would feel for killing say a bandit or an enemy combatant one encountered across the battlefield as he always did. His former Sensei had left him to die, and soon afterward let Rin whom he'd loved more than life itself die, and so deserved to lose everything he'd held dear, just as Kakashi who'd actually murdered Rin now did.
It had been one of the intelligence reports he occasionally received that had sent him to Konoha at top speed several years earlier than he had planned, despite the fact that several things were up in the air at the moment, and the fact that his control over the Mizukage was tenuous at best. According to what he'd heard from one of his confidential informants who'd sent the information via a summons, the Kyuubi Jinchuriki had been adopted by a member of the Uchiha clan. Not just any member of the Uchiha clan, but his own father who had named the boy Obito in an attempt to replace him. Despite the fact that his father was dead to him, and Obito was dead as well, he'd discovered much to his surprise that it still stung.
Obito had died the day Rin did, back in the days when he had still been recovering and had not yet been well enough to make his way back to Konoha. Tobi had been born from what little was left of Obito after Rin's passing, when the knowledge that he hadn't been able to save her had caused his Mangekyo to manifest, reforging him into someone, something else, that might survive in a world without Rin. Where Obito would have gone along with Madara's plans out of a sense of gratitude, and done his best to minimalize the number of sacrifices it would take to cause them to come to fruition as he did so, Madara's plans were Tobi's reason for living. With the completion of the Moon's Eye Plan as his life's only goal, Tobi was willing to do whatever it took and kill whoever it took to insure success.
Despite Tobi's best efforts, not all of Obito was gone though. There was still that inclination towards silliness when the situation didn't warrant absolute focus and/or absolute ruthlessness, and there was that burning desire to get revenge against those who had hurt him, those who had betrayed him that he'd quashed for most of his life until Rin's death had set it all free. On that list was all of Konoha, including and most especially the entire Uchiha Clan. His former sensei's son who would have merely been one of nine who would have to die in order for the world to be remade had been added to that list under the category of "It's Personal" through no fault of his own. When the time came, he would show the child why he had to die personally by his hand rather than through an agent, and exactly who was responsible for his demise before he killed him. He would preferably be killing his former sensei's son in front of Kakashi who would be forced to live with the fact that he'd once again been responsible for the death of someone else who was supposedly dear to him as he watched, unable to do anything else.
After making his way into the village, Tobi ghosted his way through the streets of the Uchiha District which hadn't existed when he had lived here as a child, passing by former clansmen who frantically raced from house to house carefully counting the few Uchiha children that had been born that generation and checking to make sure that none of them had been taken. Many of the houses from the old Uchiha neighborhood which hadn't been walled in to keep the world out like this place was had been moved here, and laid out in a mockery of the old neighborhood. Passing the family home of his little cousin Shisui with whom he used to play Ninja while little Itachi toddled along behind them begging to be allowed to join in, he made his way towards what should be his childhood home based on the way this place was laid out.
When he got to where his former home should have been according to his internal map, there it was, tucked in a back corner of the district, near a wall where an alley should have been. Considering who Kakashi had taken, it was no surprise that the house was the center of activity at the moment. It just went to show how inattentive the members of his former clan really were when he'd managed to skirt around the group that was comforting some fat slob who should have died years ago and make his way into his old home to look for his father who would not be seeing another sunrise.
As he made his way through the place he'd called home for the first thirteen years of his life in search of his father who was nowhere to be found, he flinched as memories came unbidden. There were far more unhappy ones than there were happy ones, but that had been par for the course in his life. His father had been a cold bastard, and his mother, who had been kind but weak willed had constantly urged him to appease the bastard, rather than encouraging him to follow his own path in his own time the way a mother shoud. But, that was the Uchiha clan for you, anyone who didn't quite fit the mold were cut to size until they did. Either that, or they died in the process.
When he reached his room, it had been to find that it had been re-arranged for someone else, someone who had been playing with his old toys, all of which his mother had bought for him since his father had considered such things to be useless. He nearly punched out the nearest wall when he'd realized who it had been who'd been staying in his room and playing with his things. The son of the bastard who had rescued Kakashi and left him behind to die, buried alive as the pain overwhelmed him and the air slowly ran out with him still alive, the boy his father had chosen to replace him, had been pawing through things that he had absolutely no right to touch.
He barely managed to rein in his temper and put it in check before any walls were destroyed and any of the people outside were alerted to his presence. Instead of throwing a temper tantrum like he would have done a little more than four years ago, he sat down on what had once been his bed to wait for his father to return from wherever the hell he was and do his usual check of the house before he went to sleep. As he waited, he played with one of the wooden kunai that he associated with the one good memory he'd had of the man before he'd turned cold and decided that he was a disgrace who wasn't worth his time because he wasn't developing fast enough for his tastes.
He ended up waiting for over an hour before the group outside broke up and the front door to his former home was opened. As he heard his father shuffle through the house and make his way towards his room, he considered and rejected any number of dramatic lines as he tried to decide on one with which he would make his presence known and clearly convey the message to the man who'd sired and replaced him that he was dead. As the door to his room slid open, his heart began to beat faster, and adrenaline flooded his system in preparation of the epic fight that was to come.
The "Tadaima" he'd finally settled on died in his throat when the fat slob who'd been out on the porch entered the room and he'd recognized a number of features he'd previously disregarded on his way past him since many of them were common to members of the clan. He said nothing as he threw the bastard who should have been the cold man who had shown little to no emotion towards or around him rather than this overweight creature that smelled vaguely of booze that had tear tracks running down his face onto the floor and started hitting him. It wasn't fair. The bastard was supposed to be at the top of his game when he killed him. There should have been an epic battle, and he should have been satisfied when he killed the bastard who'd sired him and took his eyes to use for the final stage of the Mangekyo.
There was no enjoyment as he pummeled the man who didn't bother to fight back, the man who should have loved him, not that little brat he'd replaced him with. In fact, he wanted nothing more than to get out of there rather than continue this travesty. Hitting the half-dead creature that had been his father one last time, he got up. It shouldn't have been like this, there should have been a fight, a struggle in which he could have proven himself.
He gave the man who could barely be considered such a firm kick to the ribs before he turned to leave, feeling no satisfaction as one of those ribs broke beneath his foot. As he departed planning on leaving this waste of space that his father had turned into behind him without a second glance, he was hit with an idea which turned into a plan which may work out and allow him to have the fight he had wanted if he was patient.
"Worthless scum." he said as he paused in the doorway. "You're lucky that that Hatake bastard took the brat tonight. The next time I can fit it into my busy schedule, I will be killing the Yondaime's son as planned, and since you seem to value him so highly, I'll do it right in front of you."
There, that should do it, since he'd given the paranoid bastard just enough reason not to question why he'd targeted his home out of all the houses in the district or even the village for that matter, and enough reason to train relentlessly in order to get back into top fighting shape. Give him a year, maybe two, and he would have the fight he'd wanted. That, and his bastard sensei's brat would be just old enough to understand loss, and the pain of losing a parent as the bastard who had used the brat to replace him was killed right in front of him.
"Who are you?" the fat slob who used to be his father asked.
"I am nobody." he replied before vanishing into the other dimension that his eye either created or could access and departing.
Edited 4/13/13
