[TD]: Y'all thought I was dead and never updating again, didn't you? (Looking at you, reviewer that commented 'The End' on the last chapter.) Well surprise! I LIVE! In regards to my last a/n: I have not updated anything, so don't go back and re-read all that unless you've forgotten everything that's happened up until this point. Although I actually kinda strongly advise doing that because a) it's cringey and b) there are a heck ton of things that I really do need to change. A/N continued at the bottom!
Obito stared at the swaying girl with wide eyes, unable to believe what he was seeing. For so long―even that phrase was subjectable, considering that time seemed irrelevant in this place―he hadn't seen a single living soul aside from the ancient relic he called an ancestor and synthetic clones. But could they really be considered living? Were shells alive? He couldn't really say, having become half of one himself, with only the comfort of vivid memories to keep him from losing his mind. But here she was, one of his memories, one of his friends, alive, breathing, just a few paces in front of him.
He couldn't believe it, afraid that if he did and tried to reach out to her, she would simply vanish like fine mist, or even like the dust that still choked the air.
Yet as the child teetered dangerously forward, her staff slipping from her grasp to clatter on the rubble below, Obito found himself moving to meet her. Everything went through his mind slowly, the information only relaying itself to his brain one fragment at a time; the feel of broken rock and pebble beneath his feet, the heavy sensation in his limbs as he took ginger steps towards the new entrance in the cave, the lethargic way Ame placed one foot forward. Her legs collapsed beneath her and she fell―she fell as if from time and into empty space itself.
The bewitchment he had placed upon himself broke the moment he blinked, realizing that Ame was actually falling. Obito's next step happened in a flash, and he was at the child's side in an instant. Feeling her pressed against his side―the way her small form almost seemed to fit perfectly between the grooves of his slowly growing body and his arm, with the rough, stained fabric prickling against his skin the same way an old memory would tempt him to dream―Obito thought it would have been all he needed to prove that she was real, that he wasn't just dreaming. But Ame was cold. Ame was never cold.
Humans were never cold unless they were dead.
Up close, even in the poor lighting, the child looked like something reserved for only his worst nightmares; her skin contrasted all too clearly against the gloom of the room, sallow and sickly, with dark bruises around her eyes that betrayed a lack of sleep―or something worse. Sweat trickled from her brow and down her cheeks, collecting at the the sharp edges of her jawline until the droplets became too heavy and fell away from her skin. She hardly seemed to breathe as something wet and warm dribbled from her mouth and onto his bare side.
He wiped the liquids away from her mouth, praying that what he'd find would only be excess drool. He held up his hand, eyes widening in horror.
'Blood.'
Quickly, Obito hoisted the child into his arms so that he was completely carrying her. She was light in his arms―lighter than he remembered―and he hurried towards the bed he had only just started seeing as his own. The young Uchiha may not have been a medical-nin, or even an expert at taking care of himself considering all the injuries he had ever received, but he recognized the symptoms of advanced chakra depletion when he saw it. It was one thing the Academy had made sure to teach its students, aside from how to fight a war. He had no clue how long Ame had been dragging herself along like this, but her time was finally running on nothing, and if he didn't do something soon then her time wouldn't be running at all.
Reaching the bed, he carefully laid her down and wrapped the large blanket around her in an attempt to warm the child up; she was so cold, too cold. Obito looked around desperately, dark eyes roaming over the empty surfaces of the cavern, over his two clone companions, over his antique predecessor who watched his every move with an unreadable calculative expression. There was nothing here that could help him. The place was barren, all simply because there had been no need for food, water, or even a basic first aid kit. Not when all that was needed to survive came from the Gedō Mazō.
And then it clicked. 'The statue!'
Obito bolted around the bed and right up to the old man and the statue. He remembered Madara explaining to him how it was he had survived for so long, all of it having to do with the first Hokage's DNA. Having stolen away with some of the First's flesh, which contained incredible regenerative abilities, Madara had used it to heal himself. Towards the end of all natural life then he'd awakened the Rinnegan and had summoned the statue. To extend his life the older Uchiha had used the statue as a way to cultivate Hashirama's cells―thus allowing him to remain alive so long as he was connected to the Gedō Mazō, as well as producing clones such as Zetsu and Guruguru.
If the statue could save someone like Madara, and even more so someone like himself, then it may very well be the only thing that could save his little friend.
"Your cord? Are there more like it?" he asked, hardly stopping to catch his breath as he scanned the gigantic structure for another cord.
Instead of the proper, helpful, response he had been looking for, the elder Uchiha responded with threat guised as a curious question. "Do you intend to leave if your friend survives?"
A muscle feathered in his jaw as it tightened. Of course that's what the older Uchiha chose to focus on. Now that there was this disturbance, this flaw in his plan, Madara wanted to know where it was Obito stood. Allied with him, or with a life beyond this damn black hole. The younger Uchiha would have thought the answer obvious―it wasn't like he had spent most of his time here, when he wasn't training with the clones, letting his mouth run away with stories about every memory he could think to recall. If given the opportunity, or if he made one himself, Obito would always choose going home over staying here. Though Madara had said he could leave, his freedom wouldn't come without a price; while Obito could live with just one eye, he'd prefer to not lose the other.
'If your friend survives.'
He hated that word, "if". Moreso that it was being applied to his best friend and that she had a very real, very high chance of not living to see the both of them leave this place behind. But that if was only plausible for as long as he didn't try, and he be damned if he wasted anymore time playing into the old man's hands.
"We'll discuss that after Ame wakes up. Now is there another cord or not?"
The two Uchiha's met each other's gaze in silence, the intensity of Obito's words echoing in the cavernous room. It was bridged by the shallow wheeze that came from the child whose life was now in his hands―a life that was slipping through his fingers, though he held them together as tightly as he possibly could.
Finally, without breaking eye contact, Madara raised a knobby hand and pointed up. Without wasting another second Obito shot up the statue, following the length of the thick white cord that connected to the elder Uchiha below until he reached the heart. There was a little cluster of the cords, though most were shrunken and drawn in closer to the chest, the only one fully drawn out being the one that led to Madara. He grabbed one quickly before turning to let himself fall to the ground below, the cord following him much the way a string would when pulled out of a hood. As soon as his toes made contact with the earth then he was sprinting back to the bed, where both Zetsu and Guruguru had gathered to observe the new human arrival.
He pushed past the former, one knee bracing himself on the bed as he gingerly lifted Ame's head, brushing her hair out of the way as he connected the cord to the base of her neck. Heart pounding, Obito eased her head back onto the pillow and leaned back, an anxious bead of sweat forming along his brow. He waited seconds, minutes, hours―he didn't know how long, he never knew how long―waiting for some kind of change. Waiting for her to get better, for the little girl he remembered to pop up again with a sleepy grin and to tease him for being such a worry wart. For once he wanted to cry, wanted to be teased for his tears―he wanted so much for Ame to be alright.
Because if she wasn't then he couldn't keep his promise to her anymore.
"Come on Ame," he whispered. "Get up."
The child stirred―a twitch of irregularity in her breathing, and then a slight shift of her head. Obito held his breath, fingers itching to touch the child, to assure her that she wasn't alone in this moment, to assure himself that she would live.
But just as his small, anxious spark of hope began to thrive, a change occurred that made his blood run like ice in his veins.
Ame stiffened wholly, frozen even down to her weak breath, as if overcome by immense pain. It was only for a second but it was just like another eternity to him as he fumbled to search for a pulse. The moment his warm, almost sweaty, fingers made contact with her deathly cold skin exploded as the child was released from her paralyzed state. Obito nearly fell off the bed as she thrashed upwards with a horrid choking sound. The child coughed and spluttered until more blood began to stream from her mouth.
"Is she supposed to do that?" Obito's head whipped around in the direction of Guruguru's voice, a surge of sheer panic binding itself together with confusion racing through him.
"Of course not!" he snapped. The boy leaned forward, but could do nothing, for he knew nothing. He didn't know how to do anything other than bandage cuts and apply cold compresses to his head, he barely recalled how to put together a splint for a broken bone―he could put together a better guide on how to injure oneself than he could on how to treat the injury! He had always relied on Rin to to take care of everything, and it was only now that he regretted being so frivolous in what he prioritized. Worst of all he knew nothing about what was occurring within the child to make her react like this.
"Maybe you should lay her on her side?" suggested Zetsu, the apathy in his voice only succeeding in silently infuriating the young man. Couldn't anyone in this place be considerate of the situation?
Although his annoyance was gaining the upper hand in claiming his rational thinking, the small bit of logic Zetsu had offered made a bit of sense. If she were on her side then there was less chance of her choking on her own blood. The only problem was figuring out what had caused, or what was causing, the bleeding in the first place, and how to stop it.
But, just as Obito made a move, Ame's eyes snapped open. He gasped in surprise, but not because she had awoken.
Ame's eyes had always been a pretty shade of brown―a color that strongly reminded him of the woods in autumn, with flecks of amber shining through the grey-brown forest to give them an almost hypnotic appearance.
The right eye remained as he remembered, but the other was completely foreign to him; a blue that resembled a brightly polished gem, with touches of an ethereal source of clear water swirling beneath it. Obito knew about her Kekkei Genkai―Henzuru―and that it could allow for her to transform her physical shape at will, but he had never witnessed anything more than a few, cute, animal transformations. A shudder ran through him as his gaze remained resolutely transfixed on that blue eye as it threatened to roll to the back of her head. Henzuru may have changed the color, but something about it told him that they eye didn't belong to Ame anymore.
The child raised her left hand to her neck and desperately fumbled around until it latched onto the cord.
She ripped it off, choking on blood and screams.
'She― Why'd she do that?!' he thought wildly, watching as Ame shoved the cord away before flopping onto her back, unconscious yet again. 'That was her chance of surviving! Without it she could die! Unless…'
Unless the cord, which delivered chakra straight from the Gedō Mazō, had actually been doing her more harm than good. But how else was he supposed to help her? Rest, lots and lots of rest, and food, as well as an actual professional medical-nin were the only other things he knew of that could help a person recover from extreme chakra depletion. But he had none of those things―Ame probably didn't have the time for rest with that unknown wound inside of her, and he couldn't trust Guruguru or Zetsu to go out and find something that might be edible, and as he was constantly being reminded, he was no professional medical ninja.
If only he possessed the means of being able to transfer his chakra instead of using the statue's.
'What if I could apply the same theory of attaching myself to surfaces to a medical jutsu?' he thought. 'I may not be able to mold my chakra in such a precise way, but the chakra I release should still go through Ame.'
Obito bit his lower lip before steeling his nerves. All he would have to do was concentrate his chakra to the palm of his hand and place it on Ame's chest. The chakra that he released would then be recycled through the child and would not only replenish her stores, but also fix whatever problems were occurring inside of her―or so he hoped.
He briefly flexed his hand and then stilled, focusing on the center of his palm, visualizing the chakra pooling into that one spot and growing larger, until his whole hand gave off a faint and blueish glow. The sudden rush as the chakra left his body dizzied him as he placed his hand over Ame's heart; Obito had felt the sensation before, when he had first started learning to focus his chakra to certain points, but the feeling had eventually faded as the ability came more naturally, and it had never been so strong. It was a miracle, he would later come to realize, that medical-nin had such perfect control over their chakra, and as a result were resilient against the drain of their own jutsus.
But time only continued to move slowly for him as he tired without knowing if he was succeeding or failing. Even in that time, if he had had the moment to spare from his concentration, Obito promised himself that he would do learn everything he could about first aid and medical jutsus, berating himself for being such a trivial fool in his conquest to surpass Kakashi before.
It was only when Ame took her first deep breath―that steady rise and fall, interrupted by small coughs that produce more blood, but not nearly as much as before―that Obito allowed for himself to edge his way into relief. The young Uchiha continued to produce a steady flow of chakra to the little girl until he felt that, if he gave anymore, he would collapse then and there. Cutting the energy off, Obito hurried as best as he could to sit Ame up and lean her over the edge of the bed, making sure that no more blood remained in her mouth as he pried it open; a steady red dribble fell to the floor eventually turning pink, and then clear, ordinary saliva. He wiped away the excess smears as best as he could before laying her down, tucking the blanket around her until she looked peacefully snug.
Seconds later his head hit the pillow next to her and he curled on his side with eyes growing heavier and heavier the longer he tried to delay the inevitable. Obito sighed deeply through his nose before letting the darkness embrace him, one hand resting against the child's shoulder as a form of comfort for the both of them.
As sleep wrapped its powerful grip around him Obito dreamt for the first time in while of something other than happy memories; a woman with sapphire blue eyes following the girl with autumn woods, never once falling a step behind.
The young girl awoke with a jolt, startling from her slumber with a pained jerk upright, falling backwards seconds later as a wave of nausea rolled through her. She blinked and squinted against the dark interior of the room, trying to place her whereabouts.
'Where am I? What was I doing? Why do I feel so… off?'
Her stomach churned, only adding but a fraction to the rest of the pain that circulated throughout her muscles. Everything felt heavy; her limbs were ever deadening weights that pressed her further into the mattress beneath her, and her lungs, though they felt as if something had reached inside and scraped them until they were thin, were uncomfortably tight and made each breath a new kind of labor. A slow, needle-like headache chipped away at the back of her skull while her eyelids threatened to shut themselves once again. Even the surrounding air had accumulated a strange denseness while she had been unconscious, and it strangled her.
She couldn't remember a thing about how she came to be like this. She couldn't really remember much of anything pertaining to herself. Even her own name was avoiding her.
And yet, as much as she thought she should have been panicking, the only thing she actually felt was exasperated, the oh-not-again sensation filling up her head.
"So it seems that the uninvited house guest has finally awoken."
Shifting, the girl attempted to turn her head towards the source of the eery voice―a feat that only further confused her, since the speaker seemed to come from every direction in the dark room. She tried to open her mouth, to speak, but the best she could manage was to part dry lips and give a rattling sigh.
"His friend is awake now? I thought she'd never wake up!" An even higher, more obnoxious voice pierced the quiet from her right, and she turned her gaze to see something large emerge from the gloom. It was a foreign creature to her―even if she were to have her memories about her she was certain she wouldn't know what to call it―and so pale that it nearly glowed in the awful lighting. It looked like a man, save for it's face, which resembled a lollipop with a black hole in the center. Something about it struck her as familiar, a shift in the back of her mind that seemed to be waking from a slumber of its own.
"The both of you sure are deep sleepers," the creature noted in a cheerful manner. She blinked in response before turning her head again at the sound of yet another new, sluggish voice.
"A chakra drain and transfer is evidently an exhausting thing, Guruguru. As are near death experiences."
The body that this voice belonged to was similar in complexion and build as the other creature, although this one had the face of a man instead.
"And how would you know? You can just regenerate every time you're about to die." The first creature―Guruguru―childishly argued back.
His companion sighed. "It was just an observation."
'They mentioned something about a chakra drain. That would explain all the pain,' the child thought idly as the two began to bicker, all but forgetting about the very first voice that had spoken. 'But they keep mentioning some other person. I wonder if he looks like these weirdos as well.'
"Oh." The little girl blinked as the two strange beings ceased squabbling. The peppier one then stated, "Looks like he's starting to come to as well."
She craned her head to the right as far as her neck would allow for, muscles screaming in protest, to look where Guruguru was pointing at. It was only then that she noticed the rather large and warm mass that lay barely a few inches away from her. A shiver raced up her spine to provoke the slowly waking beast with a zap. As the figure began budge with the low sounds of awakening groans the child struggled to move herself into an upright position, an overwhelming desire to properly greet this person overriding the throbbing in her muscles and sickness that threateningly coiled in her stomach.
With many small, pained gasps the young girl managed to force herself against the headboard in a sitting position, though haphazardly slouched seemed to be the more appropriate definition. She blinked rapidly to clear the blur away from her vision as well as to help her eyes adjust to the dimness of the room, looking down at the figure that now clearly resembled a boy―and a human one at that. Though his hair was long, and an incorrigible looking rat's nest, with half of his face a sagging, scarred mess, she found the sight of him a familiar one.
Hesitantly she reached out to him with a little hand and poked his cheek; he was definitely real, she wasn't dreaming.
The action startled the boy, and he awoke with a snort followed by a few incoherent words. He rubbed his eyes and sat up with a yawn before suddenly stopping to search around him in a panic, as if he'd lost something. It was only when he sharply whipped around in her direction that he stopped, frozen. For a long time the two simply stared at each other, only the sound of silence and slow breathing flowing between them.
Slowly the boy raised a hand and lightly brushed the tips of his fingers against her cheek. Large tears bubbled in his good eye, while the other trickled without shame or hinderance, dampening his cheek. Before she could catch the tears falling from his other eye the boy hooked his arm around her neck and pulled her forward and buried his face on the top of her messy head. He smelled like dirt with a muted, salty tang of sweat clinging to him, and the tears that reached her scalp were startling as well as warm.
She felt like weeping as well. Not because she was sad, or because the boy's tears were almost infectious, but because something about this moment was so perfectly happy that it filled her up with every intention of overflowing. The sensation continued to rowse what was sleeping in her mind, adding to the joy a sense of anticipation. She was so close to so many things at once that it was starting to overwhelm her.
"Idiot." The boy began to mumble, his hot breath blowing through her hair. "I know I don't have much right to say this but you scared me! I thought I was going to lose you! Then how would I have been able to keep my promise to you?"
The girl opened her mouth without any words to accompany her action. Talk of a promise sent little bells ringing throughout her mind, but she wasn't there yet; she wasn't awake. So instead she let the boy continue to talk, and cry, all in hopes that he would somehow have the one answer she knew she needed.
'My name… My name is…'
The boy sniffled loudly and hugged her tighter. More quietly he said, "I have so many questions, and I'm so mad at you for putting yourself in danger, but most importantly I'm so relieved that you're alright."
She held her breath.
"Ame."
'Ah. There it is.' His words, her name―it all seemed to bring balance to her in the form of peace of mind. It surged through her, unstopping the invisible plug that had been damming up the tears, and they welled fresh and hot in her eyes before spilling down her cheeks and onto the boy's shoulder.
"D-dummy," she croaked. "Where do you get off lecturing me for being an idiot, huh, Obito?"
It all came back to her, the memories now awake. Who she was, where she was from, the friends she had made, and the strange woman that had known Obito was alive. Her trip to the graveyard, the strain of going against the universe, and a blinding pain that had threatened to rip her apart from the inside out with fingers like fire. And yet the one it all seemed to be connected to was nowhere to be found, the blank wall within her mind somehow more tightly fortified than ever before.
"She is awake now. Do you have an answer for me, Obito?" The eery voice from when she had first woken up was like a pin popping a balloon, piercing the joy brought about by their reunion to replace fill the atmosphere with something colder, more threatening. The duo turned their heads towards the voice, tightening their hold on each other as if they expected to be torn apart.
Finally having adjusted to the gloom, Ame was finally able to place a face to the extra voice. A haggard face with long, matted white hair and a sharp eye returned her wary gaze with added scrutiny. 'Familiar, yet unknown and dangerous,' was all she could think in regards to the old man as he leaned forward in his chair, heavily resting himself upon the the bottom end of a large scythe. The weapon concerned her, a sudden realization that her own weapon, Akuma, was nowhere to be found hitting her.
"You already know what I'm going to do. You even told me yourself that I could go if I could move." Obito's voice was hard as he addressed the creepy elder, and the arm that had been around her shoulders moved until it was tucked perfectly under her arms. Without having to look at him Ame knew he was preparing to move, and quickly.
"Then do you remember the other thing I said?" A shiver raced down her spine as the temperature plummeted in the span of a few words. Obito nodded once, slowly, and the old man returned the gesture before raising his hand in command. The young Uchiha quickly sprang off the bed just as the two mysterious creatures from earlier lunged from either side. Ame clung to the boy with a loud yelp as the lollipop faced creature tried to grab her ankle. She kicked at it, but missed as Obito leapt away towards the cave's entrance.
The two creatures chased after them; the plant-like one ran as if trudging through sludge, but the lollipop face was quick, and without any warning he disappeared into the ground. Before Ame could shout in warning a stark white hand shot out from the dirt and yanked Obito's foot out from beneath him. The boy tumbled to the ground, sending Ame rolling out of his grasp and painfully into a pile of rocks.
"Sorry Obito, but Madara-sama did tell you. It'll be quick though, okay?" Despite the cheer in the creature's voice there was an underlying tone of regret as it started to open its body and drag Obito inside. Ame wrapped her hand around the the first stone she could and threw it at the creature. It did nothing more than harmlessly bounce off.
The child looked and felt around desperately for her staff. If she lost it anywhere then it had to have been at the entrance of the cave, right?!
Meanwhile Obito had managed to jerk his foot out of the creature's grasp and right himself into a fighting stance. He tucked in his left arm and threw a right hook. The lollipop ducked to the side, snatching the outstretched appendage and absorbed it into his own. Obito cried out, shocked, and Ame frantically picked up the pace of her search, mentally screaming the staff's name in hopes that it would somehow respond to her. On opposite spectrums the two fought, but it was in the middle where they met, and in the middle where they shared the same goal: Freedom, together.
The tips of her fingers brushed over something that was colder and more refined than the rough surface of the rocks, and even in the dimness Ame caught a glimmer of ore.
'Akuma!' she shouted in her thoughts, snatching the weapon off the ground. A spurt of adrenaline coursed through her veins, mixing with the steady growth of alertness that came with being awake to override the pain in her limbs as she staggered upright and towards the battle. With a flick of the staff the blade at the end swung out and she lunged at the pure white lollipop, bringing Akuma above her head and down with a heavy sweep.
"Oh," was all the lollipop said, voice reaching her in disjointed waves, before his grip on Obito went lax and the boy was able to pull himself free. He cast a sad glance at the creature before spinning around to snatch her by the wrist and start running. It was then, of all times, that Ame came to terms with the new height difference that separated her from the raven haired boy as his longer legs propelled them faster than her shorter ones could keep up with―she might as well have been a kite for all the effort she was putting into running away!
Ame dared to look behind her as they passed through the cave's entrance and her eyes grew wide. Several more of the white clones had appeared from somewhere unknown, exact copies of the plant guy, all of them chasing after her and Obito.
'How many creatures does this guy have?!' she thought in bewilderment, turning away from the scene quickly to focus on the path ahead; if only something hadn't caught her eye.
It happened in the blink of an eye, and she wasn't sure she had seen anything at all, but Ame could have sworn a boy wearing a fanged mask had been hiding in the shadows. Yet before she could say or question anything then she and Obito vaulted further down the path, away from what she had been told was a pre-destined fate.
Obito was free to have the future that 'could have been', and not even fate could take that away from him.
Hisoka was beginning to think that all he was good for was waiting.
He had waited for periods at a time with no seeable end in sight for his target to make some kind of move, often in places that had the worst conditions possible. He had waited to figure out the child's motive. He had waited to see if she would drop dead pursuing an unknown objective in her condition, a hidden agenda that had nothing to do with Konoha and its people. He had waited for this now senseless mission to come to an end. He had waited to follow the girl into the eerie tunnel with skeletons of long dead beasts marking it like a grave. He had waited and waited for something to happen, and of all the things he felt the most, he was disappointed.
Waiting had been something Hisoka was forced to become good at, but there was only so much patience that the young ROOT agent could exert before succumbing to his own irritation.
The young man cursed, kicking at the stone wall that split in two different directions. Exhausted, annoyed, and frustrated. That's what he was. And all because one kid had to come to some obscure graveyard in the mountains just so she could die, effectively wasting his time.
Only a few minutes ago had he heard a bone-chilling scream reverberate through the tunnels, preceded before that by the sound of a cave-in. It was a safe bet to assume that she had run into some terrible creature that dwelled in places like this and had met her end through the sharpness of deadly claws and fangs. Perhaps it was entirely possible the child had encountered some kind of monstrous snake, even,and was swallowed whole without a second thought. Orochimaru-sama had told him that such creatures like that lived outside of the world of a summons; much more feral and hungry, no sense of human like logic to dictate whether they killed or not. Hisoka found himself wishing that were the case. It would be easier than having to dispose of the Hiroshi girl's body himself.
Even so, he knew that he would have to go check for remains. Anyone that possessed any form of a kekkei genkai, or a special doujutsu, or some other kind of secret weapon that would be of a potential danger in the wrong hands had to be properly disposed of to ensure it properly died off with the rest of the deceased.
But it was unlikely that anyone would be curious (*read: stupid) enough to come down here, no matter the reason, so Hisoka was free to take however long he liked.
Letting a heavy sigh blow through his nose, the boy settled himself against a wall that lead down the left side of the fork in the road. Gravity settled heavily into his bones, infiltrating his very being―as pathetically vacant as it was―and weighing him down until it felt like he was being molded into the very stone he sat on itself. It caused a familiarly recurring ache to blossom in his chest and Hisoka reached between the folds of his coat and shirt to massage the area, fingers gliding over the scar that ran directly through the center of him.
Another boy had done this to his body. Another boy had used himself as a shield to protect someone else, instead of preserving himself, as he ought to have done from the beginning. That boy had been simple and naïve.
That boy was dead, leaving Hisoka and only Hisoka behind.
But Hisoka was just a tool; tools weren't meant to feel, tools were just meant to serve and be used. Yet he was a bitter for a tool, rusted and already breaking down. It would only be a matter of time before his usefulness came to an end for Danzō-sama―yet Hisoka couldn't help but think that perhaps it was beginning to be the other way around. The aging man had hardly done anything of worth in Hisoka's eyes. The brush that Danzō was supposed to be guiding around for him had long since gone brittle with dried paint, and barely even a corner of his canvas had been used; his potential being squashed in place of a pathetic assignment.
'Disappointing,' he tsked to himself. There was more he was meant to do, more that he could do, but he was being wasted away much like his own body was trying to waste away on him.
He pulled his hand away from his chest and held it in front of him, scowling at the way his pale skin somewhat glowed in gloomy lighting. Eyes narrowing, his breathing slowed until they were long and deep breaths. He focused on the rhythm of his heartbeat as it pounded to the tune of each breath―and slowly, slowly, his hand turned pitch black and disappeared from his sight. The scowl morphed upon his face until he was smirking, watching as his original pallor returned.
All of this and more was being taken for granted by Danzō.
Hisoka only had his own thoughts and old memories to feed his emotions, but no motives or ideas to fill his canvas on his own. Yet he was certain that he would encounter someone with a great purpose in need of a fresh canvas like his, all in the near future…
His eyes snapped open and the boy startled forward. Had he been asleep? It hadn't felt like it―he hadn't even realized he had closed his eyes. Hisoka rubbed his face vigorously, a stream of silent curses filing through his brain at the one who had brought him to such a state of exhaustion in the first place.
'Speaking of which…,' The young man was on his feet in a few seconds, already rushing down the tunnel to finish his job. 'Enough time must have passed. I can probably dispose of her body and not get eaten myself―if there's even a body to begin with.'
He hoped not, simply because he just wanted get out of here and find a better place to sleep.
Rushing down the tunnel allowed him to feel the push and pull of the air current through his hair; the way it ran between individual strands and tugged at his roots was familiar, but no less agitating. It was only after traveling for what felt like an eternity in this darkness that he finally found some semblance of a light at the the end of the tunnel―or rather, just a bigger whole.
The silence was broken by a yelp, not long followed by another. His brows cinched together, noting the differences in pitches between the cries; one was more boyish, verging on an invisible scale between deepening and being high pitched. The other was younger and more feminine. It was all he needed to know in order to confirm that Hiroshi Ame was not, in fact, dead. But that did nothing to account for the other voice.
As Hisoka drew closer a new set began to lay itself before him. Beyond a large, scattered pile of rubble was a boy with thick, dark hair fighting off attacks from some bizarre, white creature that almost appeared like it was trying to… eat him. Crawling around in the rocks was a smaller figure, desperately searching for something. It was only moments later that the child found what she was looking for―pulling up a long staff like object and swinging it around to unleash a hidden device within it. She lunged the white monster with a downward swing, cutting it in half as if it were made out of some incredibly soft substance. The boy wasted no time, whirling around and grabbing child by the hand as they sprinted away.
Hisoka leaped to the side as soon as he realized that they were actually moving in his direction. The other boy was fast on his feet though, and Hisoka barely managed to get himself into the shadows, never once noticing that the child flying behind had caught a glimpse of him in this gloom. Not long after a herd of even more white monstrosities―these ones different from the first one he had seen―came rushing after, though they were notably slower in an odd sort of way, as if they weren't used to moving around too quickly.
When they had passed the silence encompassed him yet again. Hisoka placed a foot back in the direction he had just come from, ready to follow after since his target was clearly still alive, but stopped short as a shiver traveled down his spine and forced him to roll his shoulders. The young man looked towards the cave entrance once again. It looked no different to him until he spotted the old man sitting in a chair, hands resting atop the handle of a large scythe. Hisoka knew without needing any kind of confirmation that both parties were aware of each other.
The old man raised a hand, motioning with a single finger for Hisoka to come to him.
He found himself compelled to oblige, feet moving not in the direction of his target, but towards this new entity―whereins the silence called his name, both true and false.
Hisoka didn't take his time, though almost mystified he was. In just a few powerful bounds he had crossed the open space that separated the two until they were barely a few meters apart, long coat silently swishing around his legs. They studied each other and questions spun round and round in endless circles through Hisoka's mind. Who was he? What was his connection to the other boy and his target?
But most importantly, what was Hisoka expecting―hoping―to get out of this encounter?
"You are discontent with where you are at, are you not?"
His eyes widened behind his mask as the old man finally spoke. For a moment he didn't respond, stunned that the first thing said to him was something he had been thinking about not all that long ago, but eventually he gave a slow, yet wary nod. The old man returned the gesture in a more sagely manner.
"I've been sensing your contempt since you stepped foot in this graveyard," the elder continued, his voice lowering bit by bit. "You've been treated unfairly by many, haven't you? Given the shorter end of the stick without much chance to show your strengths and skills. Treated like a spare; disposable."
Each accusation struck the boy like a nail being driven through the heart.
'Is… Is this guy clairvoyant? How does he know all this? Or is he simply just a good guesser?' Hisoka's head was reeling.
The stranger continued. "I have a plan―a plan for a different, better world in which people like you can get exactly what you want. A place where dreams become ample opportunities which are easily made into a reality."
It was ludicrous what he was suggesting―even Hisoka knew that an ideal like could only remain as such. What the old man was suggesting was far beyond what man was capable of creating, let alone maintaining. Absolute peace could only be kept by fighting wars, and then suppressing everyone until they all thought one way and one way only. Even as the elder continued to talk about such high and lofty goals Hisoka felt himself becoming disenchanted.
He couldn't care less about a peace like that, not when what he really wanted was to break each and every little thing down piece by little piece, even including himself.
"Why tell me all this?" he suddenly asked, cutting into the old man's speech.
Silence suddenly pervaded the atmosphere, but Hisoka knew how to wait. He had become very good at it after all.
"Because you are seeking a change, are you not?"
'Tricky bastard.' Despite the inward insult, Hisoka couldn't help but grin to himself on the inside.
"Explain to me, then, how you intend to make such a change come about." He wasn't sure why he was pushing for opportunities to be convinced by this old man instead of abandoning this waste of time and pursuing his target. Perhaps it was because he was tired of his routine, following a child and watching her do absolute nothing of worth. Or maybe it was because he sensed that the old man before him very well held the key to the true change that he was seeking. For all he knew the answer was both.
The old man regarded him carefully before letting his withered face morph into a satisfied smirk.
"It's called Tsukuyomi, the most powerful genjutsu that can only be enacted by one who has awakened the Rinnegan and the Juubi from its slumber." The old man leaned back in his stoney throne. "I am old though, barely living as it is. I cannot, will not, be able to live to see this plan come to fruition. And even if I could I do not have both eyes to set the jutsu into motion. The one whom I had been hoping would fulfill that role has left me."
The dots were all too easy to connect. "That boy I saw earlier. What was his purpose?"
"Only a member of the Uchiha clan, bearers of the Sharingan, can perform the genjutsu. Without the doujutsu then there is no way to obtain the Rinnegan."
The young man didn't hesitate in asking his next question. "And what is it you want from me? What do you see as my purpose?"
The elder didn't hesitate with unnecessary pauses or smirks, he didn't draw anything out. He simply took what was openly being offered before him. "Bring Uchiha Obito back to me, and together the two of you can work to achieve this new world."
Hisoka resisted the urge to scoff. It only took a fool to believe that other boy could be brought back to this place, not when it had been so apparent that he was escaping on purpose. But a seed was sprouting in the boy's mind, taking root and blossoming in the span of seconds. It wouldn't take much to get what he wanted out of this. There was just enough leverage to do what he wanted and get what he needed both at the same time. All he had to do was make this guy think he was compliant―a laughably easy feat in his case.
So he would "bring" Uchiha Obito back. He would continue to do as he was told like the mindless servant that he was. He would continue to let someone else paint his canvas for the time being. And then, when he had finally fulfilled every objective given to him, he would use it as he pleased.
It was his fate now, and nothing could persuade him otherwise.
Hisoka allowed a sharp grin to slowly work its up his face and he bowed to the old man. New colors were running down his canvas, the brush wet and paint fresh. Deep, crimson red bled onto a white backdrop, the color not unlike the vibrancy of the Uchiha's famed doujutsu, while his blackening soul curled around the edges like creeping vines ready to strangle any life that it came into contact with. And this, Hisoka realized, was what he wanted to color his canvas all along.
[TD]: Ok, so the reason I've been gone so long/don't have any edited updates for you guys is because I decided to put that off so I could finish school and not have it get in the way. Now that I'm graduated I have plenty of time to actually go back and edit stuff. However, I have an account on Wattpad (KoniaxHyasen) and have the first 7 edited chapters posted there! (That does not mean I am giving up putting stuff here though!) So for anyone that reeeeaaallly wants to read those updates then you can go there~
Thank you to everyone that has followed, favorited, and reviewed in the time that I was gone!
This chapter was brought to you by: The Haikyuu soundtrack
Next chapter: "Y-you guys should see the looks on your faces." Obito chuckled, his voice wobbling as tears gathered threateningly in his eyes. "Did you see a ghost or something?"
No one said a thing and finally the tears poured out and stained his cheeks.
"I'm home guys, just like I promised."