If, a couple of hours ago, I'd known I'd be the target for cruel and unusual experimentation instead of Rin, I probably would have hyperventilated for a minute or two.

As it was, I didn't have time to do that.

Patrol with Kakashi should have been boring. We didn't have dogs on the route, which means that it was just me and him, giving each other the silent treatment followed by field sign language. Much as I hate to admit to sometimes, we work very well together and understand each other's tendencies on missions. Kakashi may have to rely on Obito's eye more than Obito did when he was around, but natural genius also bridged the gap formed by several years of cooperative combat.

Anyway, back to the point.

Much like the rest of the Land of Fire, this particular chunk of territory was heavily forested. The trees were a lot smaller than they were in Konoha itself. The First Hokage probably had something to do with that particular ecological quirk. Out here, where presumably he'd never bothered to get in a tree-based fight with anyone, the trees were normal. Twenty, thirty meters.

Just small enough that some branches would break under our weight. Not exactly conducive to stealth, that.

We were, in fact, eventually confronted by Kiri-nin. That was something I'd expected, since a conspiracy ended up being the thing that ended Team Minato in the old timeline. I'd known Kiri-nin were in the area, at least theoretically.

The fight was short and we ended up running, but not before I breathed in some kind of yellowish gas that made it harder and harder for me to move on my own.

Should have seen that coming. It was yellow and just…ugh.

At least it was some kind of muscle relaxant and not acid. The things I learned from Pokémon

I ended up being dragged by Kakashi. Thankfully, I could run long enough that he didn't need to slow down too much, at least until he hit the camp. Increased respiration through physical activity finally caught up to me about when I met up with Rin again, which just so happened to be when the camp was under attack by our pursuers. At least I didn't face-plant, right?

Speaking of, one of the things we ended up getting hit with was Wood Release. I could see that much, even while being lugged around like a sack of potatoes. It's kind of hard to miss the roots, to be honest, when they're towering over the camp and reaching down and smashing the hell out of every structure taller than a thirteen-year-old girl.

Wood Release, at that time and place, could only mean one thing.

Zetsu.

(Okay, so technically Yamato could have been involved. Theoretically. But generally speaking, Konoha tends not to allow ten-year-olds to run assault missions against our own bases, no matter how powerful Wood Release might be. Also, Yamato didn't have the chakra capacity for that scale of chaos, even as an adult.)

The green medic-drone picked me up when Rin got distracted, supposedly to carry me off to Medical, but that didn't work out that way.

Since I was still perfectly conscious, I got to watch as medic-drone dragged me out of camp and handed my useless carcass off to a Kiri-ANBU before turning into a Zetsu and melting into the ground. His chakra entirely disappeared, which struck me as kind of unusual, to say the least. This, for some reason, didn't prompt any comment from the Kiri-nin, which was setting all kinds of alarms off.

My tone was off, by the way. I had managed, through some finagling on the parts of enemy ninjas, to pass through anger and terror entirely and into the kind of Zen calm on the other side. The stabby sort of Zen, really. You know, if I could move.

Basically, I was a little bit out of my mind.

Zetsu, from what I remembered, would serve Madara's goals over all others. That included Tobi's, toward the end—I remember something to do with a Black Zetsu takeover, as far as that goes. And If Madara was involved…well, I was fucked. That's the long and short of it.

I wouldn't give up just yet.

Joking.

The Kiri-ANBU carried me for what seemed like a long time. I wasn't exactly able to complain about it, since the paralytic hadn't worn off yet.

Four other masked Kiri-nin arrived to meet my captor, just outside of some weird cave. Two of them took me from Asshole Alpha, hoisting me into the air between them. It probably wasn't necessary, though there was the chance of the paralytic conveniently wearing off to worry about, on their parts. While I hoped that'd be the case, it wasn't.

At best, I was able to glare up at them with a growl building in my throat.

"This the one?" the Evil Bookend on the Left asked.

"The other was too fast," said Asshole Alpha, leading the way. Probably talking about Kakashi. Only other idiot in the field and all. "We'll take what we can get."

When I got out of this, I was going to kill them. I was going to pop Left and Right's heads off and kick them across a field. I was going to cut Asshole down to size, too. Even if I didn't know what they wanted, there was a good chance it'd be revenge-worthy and I'd be obligated to repay them tenfold for the slight on my honor. Like a good Uchiha (which I wasn't, but revenge had always been something solidly Uchiha in my mind).

I refused to consider the possibility that I was going to die down there.

Still, my heart pounded and I could feel sweat break out on my forehead, under Obito's headband. As the goon squad manhandled me down a sloping tunnel, I was getting more and more certain that the entire situation was going to end a certain way. As in, I'd end up a Tailed Beast time bomb and have to avoid the huge bloody pitfall known as That One Time Kakashi Punched a Hole in Rin. Or not avoid it, and save Obito a mental breakdown.

Sarcasm as a defense mechanism: exhibit A.

Alpha said to one of the others, who I privately called Squiggly-Line Guy, "Get the monster."

…Fuck, it was what I thought it was.

Just my luck.

Left and Right Bookends lowered me to the rough dirt floor, and I ended up with my head turned to the side a little, even as I'm spread-eagled on the ground and unable to do anything about it. It didn't help—the cave was dark, the walls were bare aside from mold and one lousy lantern, and the floor had ink scrawled up and down every surface. I couldn't see what the entire seal looks like, but I could make a guess—spiraling, since of course Kiri would rip some of their sealing techniques off of old Uzushio.

Right Bookend pulled one of my sleeves up and drew a line of black ink down my arm, from the inside of my elbow to the end of my middle finger. He looped the line around my hand, before leaving a big dab of ink in the center of my palm. I could feel Left Bookend doing the same thing with my other arm. In both cases, my forearm scroll holsters were removed.

Speaking of, my hip and thigh pouches were also gone. I forced down a brief flare of panic. Not that I'd be able to do anything with them, what with the security detail, but I wanted them around. That was where I'd put my backup plan.

So much for that.

And then Squiggly started pulling my jacket zipper down.

I made a keening noise, alarm klaxons in my head already blaring. I didn't have enough motor function to move, much less punch him in the face and run, and my jaw clenched and unclenched almost at random. My heart hammered against my ribs as I heard the little teeth scrape, cycling the poison through my bloodstream still faster.

Stay calm!

How the fuck am I supposed to stay calm?!

Just as Squiggly sliced my mesh shirt open halfway down to the bottom seam, Left and Right Bookends' knees slammed down on my wrists, cutting off what little feeling I was starting to get back. Purple light flared from the ink all around the chamber, and then it…well. The poison wasn't an issue. The fact that I was stuck to the floor like a fly to a spider web—that was a problem. The Bookends got off, and disappeared out the tunnel as far as I could tell.

Alpha was holding something. Just barely, I can twist my head to get a better look at it.

It was an ancient clay jug, with ceremonial rope twisted around the neck. The rope itself was red and trailing little paper tags, like they had on shrines. On the jar, in ink that shouldn't be fading, was a paper seal that runs from the front of the vessel and up, over the cork, and back down to make a solid binding. There were also bells tied to it that jingled faintly as Alpha steps closer.

The less obvious problem with it, perhaps, is the fact that Alpha's hand was channeling chakra directly into the seal.

And a certain something inside was reacting.

Squiggly stood over me, then pricked his exposed thumb with the tip of a kunai. A tiny bead of blood welled from the cut.

…He's going to be the dead guy, then? The Dead Demon Consuming Seal required one sacrifice mostly because it invoked the Shinigami, but whatever Chiyo had done to seal Shukaku into Gaara hadn't done the same. And I had no idea about the Iron Seal.

To be perfectly honest, I was hoping that he'd get eaten.

Then Squiggly held his hand over my face, with his bloodied thumb presumably leaving a red mark between my eyebrows. Once he pulled back, he drew a straight line from there, down my face, chin, and throat to the middle of my sternum, though there was no way a blood smear had lasted that long. I tried to glare, but it wasn't terribly effective.

"Is the Three-Tails ready, captain?"

"Yes. Complete your seal." Alpha ordered.

Squiggly placed his right hand across my forehead, and two fingers poked just above my heart. I could feel the chakra building in his core, spreading outward.

What—

"Puppet-Master Seal!"

The best analogy I can make to what it felt like involves steel bands. Or maybe someone was reaching inside my chest, wrapping his fingers around my heart, and squeezing. Or maybe a heart attack.

The Dreamer shrieked, What the hell is this thing?

It…whatever it was, it took up space in my head with a sensation like the hum of distant power lines, after the first wave of pain subsided. The chakra leaking from it started from my heart, even as I was gasping for air. I could feel it sending out little feeler tendrils, anchoring itself into my system. The weight in my chest didn't dissipate—if anything, the mass of evil chakra sank its hooks in deeper and got comfortable. It was like it was building a lair, like it'd hollow me out and wear my skin like a suit.

There was no suppressing the exhausted, terrified shudder that followed.

Still, I could follow the trail of breadcrumbs when it was right in front of my face.

Ergo: Evil chakra in me. Evil chakra in Squiggly's arm. Evil chakra not in the rest of Squiggly, or in the ominous glowing sake jug.

Conclusion: Squiggly's arm was an anomaly. Alternately, chakra transfusion. Theory: Chakra transfusion provided by the evilest crotchety old bastard this side of Kakuzu—one Madara Uchiha, since everything else seemed to be courtesy of his schemes.

The day was just getting better and better, I thought dizzily.

"Next." Alpha said sharply, though Squiggly was a little slow to react this time around.

Alpha ripped the seal off and, to my chakra sense, that was the moment when all hell broke loose.

The Nine-Tailed Fox was the only Tailed Beast I'd ever sensed before this, and even then he'd been bound up in Kushina's stomach somewhere. His chakra had been compressed and hardly any of it was circulating in her system due to the difference in seal designs between the Uzumaki seal and the Dead Demon Consuming Seal. If I stood by Naruto, some ten years from now, and he had the fox sealed inside him, I probably would have been much more conscious of the kaiju in his guts. Kushina's seal was older, as well as the sort that could be created over years of patient experimentation with Uzumaki methods.

Mito had had that time. Sensei and Kushina hadn't.

Wouldn't.

The Three-Tails wasn't the biggest or baddest of his siblings. Not by a long shot. But in close quarters, I felt like the mouse that had just brushed the barn cat's whiskers. If I could move I would have run, and damn whoever got in my way. I needed to get away.

I suspected even before then that humans in this world were predisposed to a primal fear of giant chakra monsters. It just sucked to have it confirmed in the worst way.

The next thought that hit me between the eyes was this: It won't fit.

The Three-Tailed Turtle might not have been the most powerful of its siblings, but even the weakest Tailed Beast had way more chakra than a human did. They were living chakra—energy made solid, even, if human chakra could be compared to a gas in a lot of really tiny tubes. Only the most exceptional human beings ever came anywhere near attaining a chakra capacity comparable with a Tailed Beast.

I was in no way exceptional. And even half-depleted, my chakra coils had never had room for that much energy.

The Puppet-Master Seal hasn't been activated yet, the Dreamer was saying, distractedly. Anti-suicide, anti-deviation, chakra hooks for some…thing

Shut up!

Squiggly starts making seals: Rat, Dog, Bird, Ram, Dog. The transferred chakra is staying put—it looks like this one is going to be all him.

I am so fucked.

I honestly think my ears popped from the change in air pressure in that room. The jar was open and I swear I could see a face peeking out of the hazy cloud of red, lined with spikes and scales and one glowing golden eye. The red chakra bloomed, like algae or a cloud of radiation, saturating the air with stuff that honestly hurt to breath. If I squinted, I could see the skin of Alpha's hand start to warp under something that wasn't heat but burned all the same.

"Spiraling Blood Seal!"

There was red. Then white. Then ringing, and then silence.

And then I landed on my head, on a couch, and bounced into ankle-deep ice-water.

Woo, mindscape.

"Get up!" the Dreamer buzzed by my head, almost invisible in a cloud of frantic gold and blue sparks. I sat up, sputtering, and looked around.

Um.

My mindscape was bigger, I think, but that was an adaptation to circumstances. Our little therapy setup was still sitting on top of an ice shelf next to a glacier-blocked lake. Two glaciers meeting tends to involve a couple hundred thousand tons of ice, which is enough to stop the water from moving. I remember something about a prehistoric ice lake, back home, and the effects when the dam broke. The bowl of ice was keeping the water from rushing out and possibly destroying the ever-present memory-cloud, which was hovering around below us rather than above, like a particularly stupid flock of birds.

They'd been shunted out of their usual place by a massive cloud of red energy, which was more like an actual cloud in terms of size and behavior than the memories were. Over the crack where the two glaciers met, straining upward at the cloud, was a gigantic black thing that looked as much like a Hell-octopus as anything. Only it lacked features, other than four long, barbed tentacle limbs around a central round bulge, which contained a purplish-gray Rinnegan eye. Its hooks were dug deep into the ice.

Just looking at it made me sick.

The Dreamer floated by, prodding at the hooks with her Yin-aligned chakra and watching them dig in deeper. The ice started to fracture, just a bit.

Instead of helping her, I focused on the solidifying, angry cloud of red chakra as I floated away from the Freud couch. And on physics.

Let's just say you don't drop a giant demon turtle into a lake any more than you drop a moderate-sized car in a swimming pool. At a hundred and twenty miles per hour. From a cargo helicopter.

The memory-cloud was preemptively getting out of the way.

Also, where was Id?

CRACK.

FSSSSSSSSSH!

"Elvis is in the building!" shouted an unfamiliar, slightly squeaky voice from what seemed like far away.

…Well. Id was also awake, and had manifested somewhere on the Three-Tailed Beast's back. Speaking of which, apparently displaced air makes a noise like a gigantic firecracker going off.

I probably should have been more interested in the fact that Id was awake for the first time I could remember, or maybe I should have been paying attention the fact that she'd talked in more than sleepy mumbles. But there was a gigantic demonic turtle hanging out in the glacial lake like the ultimate rubber duck, which sort of took up most of my attention.

"This is in no way what I signed on for." I said, as Id danced through the air in front of the Three-Tailed Beast's nose.

"Look out!" the Dreamer called to me, and I dove out of the path of a long black tentacle. I threw the couch in the way, and watched things get smashed to bits. Even the coffee table.

I leapt off the side of the glacial wall and flew out over the thrashing Three-Tails. Overhead, huge red cracks had started to form in the sky.

"What the hell is going on?" I said to the Dreamer, hanging in midair.

"The seal is after you. She" and this seemed to indicate Id, "can get close to Isobu without being burned." The Dreamer seemed to be fading—half of her sparks had disappeared, and so had her left arm and leg. Her face was following suit. Id, meanwhile, actually seemed to be getting stronger. Though I couldn't be sure, what with the layer of agitated spray between us and the turtle monster, it seemed she hadn't let go of the spike yet. That was a good sign, if weird.

"I assume the seal will rip you right in half, then." I said, thinking aloud for a given value thereof. I paused and swooped away from another attempted tentacle strike. As I rejoined the Dreamer, I went on, "Okay. The seal wants to grab me, which means I'm the target personality. It's ignoring you, and Isobu is…"

Isobu was roaring and trying to shake Id off by diving. I could have told him that he'd have to do better than that to dislodge a freakishly determined mental construct while splashing around in my mindscape, but I didn't. Not that he would have heard me.

"Isobu is busy. I'm a tentacle-magnet—and I'm aware how wrong that sounds. You're literally half dead and I have no idea how that happened!" I summed up. "Do you think you can, I don't know, take over for me so I can concentrate?"

"Take over?" the Dreamer repeated, stunned. "Now?"

And then another of the tentacles shot toward me. We shot out of the way.

"Yes, now, because I really don't want to see what that does if it goes active and it does what I think it does." I said really quickly.

Like mind-controlling me into exploding in Konoha. That would just ruin everyone's day.

"You're not a target." I told her, spinning out of the way of another strike. But every time, the spindly hell-tentacle was getting closer. It was learning my movements. "I'm delegating!"

"I'm not sure I support the kind of delegation that has me on the front line." The Dreamer scowled, despite the fact that her head was half missing. "In fact, I'm sure I don't."

"Too bad! Remember, right-left-right!" I said, just as one of the purple-black tentacles hooked around my left ankle. "Oh, shit."

"Good luck!" The Dreamer called.

And down I went, screaming all the way.


Blink. Blink.

Motor function: Limited. Outside interference: Yes. Nature of interference: Seal.

Masked Kiri ANBU detected: designated Tango 1 through Tango 5. Tango 1 designation reassigned—addendum, Tango Alpha.

Blink. Inhale. Exhale.

Recalibrating…

…Ouch.

"Go to Konoha," whispers Tango Alpha.

Verbal target designation? Assumption of cognitive susceptibility. Inefficient. Impractical.

Ineffective.

"Break the seal," he continues.

Assessing seal strength…

Moderate and gaining, but misused. Target of seal: designated primary personality. Threat assessment: High.

Conclusion: Break binding seal. Creative reinterpretation required…

Tango Alpha leaves. Tango 1 through 4 follow. Tango 5 stays, kneeling.

Target in range.

Engaging remaining Yin chakra. Shoulder, bicep, elbow, forearm, palm, index finger…

Never needed to move before. Don't now.

Seal broken. Hand up, to Tango 5's throat. Black chakra lines spread. Tango 5 falls, chokes.

Explodes.

Blood splatter. Main seal lines broken.

Close enough.

Query: Remnants of seal in Tango 5? Analyzing… Conclusion: Tango 5 carrying related mind-altering seal. Query: Other Kiri-nin?

Not important right now. Filing it away as evidence.

Flagged for further review: Multiple instances of Puppet-Master Seal. Self-replicating?

Stand up. Stagger. Rebound off wall.

Recalibrating…

Fluidity is the goal here. Motor control is the goal.

Accessing…

Combat protocol engaged. Speech protocol loading…

Priority: Combat protocol.

Priority order processed.

…Okay. Time to kill our way out of here.


Holy crap it's dark in here.

Like, really, really, really dark. I not only can't see my hand in front of my face, but I can't even be sure I have a hand. I'm even trying to kick my legs and snap my fingers and…nothing.

Wait.

…Crap. Where am I?

…Is there even a 'me'?

This is the weirdest version of an out-of-body experience ever.

I need to get out of here. The Dreamer can't do shit for me in here, and I don't even know if handing the controls over to her is the right choice. Maybe Id would be better—she has Isobu's ear. Er. "Skull protrusion that conducts sound," anyway. His chakra would be enough to save everyone!

…And also probably kill everyone. Bad plan. Not handing reins of giant monster over to someone with the emotional maturity of an actual thirteen-year-old might have been a better one. Too late now, though.

I really need to get out of here.

And there's only one way to do that.

Hey, Madara-based jerkwad! Fight me!

Quiet.

It was like someone, somewhere, said, "LET THERE BE SOME DAMN LIGHT IN HERE."

I turned my head as soon as I was sure I had one again, watching as my arms and legs rematerialized. By the way, don't do that if you have a chance. It's creepy in the kind of way that makes a little voice in the back of my head scream. And I was also naked, which was kind of par for the course for this stupid literalized extended metaphor.

As soon as I thought that, a gray hoodie and pair of jeans materialized on me. Out of habit, I stuffed my hands into the shirt's central pocket. It made me look like a social shut-in, which was really rather nostalgic. You know, despite the fact that I really talk a lot. Or at least it seems like it…

Well.

Well, well, well.

I stood on a tiny gray island in a brilliant white vista that was, as usual for my mind, also an ocean. The gray dipped into water that was blinding via reflection, and I was alone. I was also pretty sure that if I wanted, I'd be able to shout and never hear an echo. The space was just that big, on top of being bereft of macroscopic life aside from me.

…Who am I kidding?

I'm never alone in here.

"Oi." I said.

Somewhere in the distance, something huge and black exploded out of the water.

"Yay, hell-squid." I muttered. I wished I still had Obito's headband in here, but since I didn't and it didn't appear when I thought of it, I shrugged and moved on. I was so far past freaking out over all of the events today that I'd gone right into a Zen mode of calm, and it hadn't worn off yet. "Today is just getting better and better. First the kidnapping, then the demon…"

There was a bulge in the water indicating that something very large was moving very, very fast right below the surface. It was heading my way.

When it hit my little island full-force, the water leading the charge split in front of my face like there was an invisible wedge in the way. And in that moment, I got a better look at the thing that had infested the open ocean of my mind.

…It was a parallelogram with a great, pulsating Rinnegan eyeball on it, with four stringy tentacles wiggling on the end of each corner. Given that the rest of the world was kind of in three dimensions, it was, effectively, like looking at a cardboard cutout the size of a billboard. It was not, in fact, a squid. It would have had to evolve another plane of existence before it would get close to qualifying as a squid.

"Somehow, I figured your avatar would be a little less literal." I informed the thing looming over me, with a tone that could have been used as a knife.

Silence.

"I'm Kei." I said with a shrug, ignoring its mandate. "The first. Probably also the last, barring shenanigans."

Submit.

"Nope." I said. For once, I was the spare. The distraction. And if that meant holding a conversation with a non-sapient seal, possibly while getting squashed—an imminent possibility—then I would keep it up.

Metaphysics. This whole situation was such bullshit.

I sighed. "So. What am I supposed to be doing here?"

Submit.

"Shut up." I said, tucking stray strands of hair behind my ears. I needed something to do with my hands…

Obey.

I glanced at the monster looming over me, as though it was an afterthought. I didn't give a flying fuck about it since it didn't do anything. It wasn't Madara. It couldn't even think. "Fuck off."

The black abomination shuddered, folding inward. I caught little sparks of red, flashing in the white void. The red reached down, falling like dust, and surrounded the burgeoning cube. The Rinnegan eye was still looking at me.

…I may have pissed off a tiny, artificial, but nonetheless existent eldritch abomination.

Or maybe the Tailed Beast had co-opted the seal. Needed to make a note about that. You know, if I got out of this.

…I also probably needed to remember to make a will.

The black stuff swirled like a tornado, twisting with enough force to toss me off the little gravel island and into the water.

If I hadn't already known the trick to water-walking, I probably would have had a very splashy landing. It would have been undignified and probably would have resulted in my immediate death.

Crouching on the water's surface, I watched as the tornado of darkness reformatted itself.

When the water was finally calm again, there was a figure standing in the middle of the gravel island where I'd been.

It was entirely normal, aside from the glowing eyes with red irises on black sclera. From head to toe, it appeared to be my height, my rough configuration, and wearing my clothes.

It looked like an older version of my physical body, complete with scars and accessories and swords.

I, on the other hand, pretty much felt like my old physical body. The one with long hair, a retainer, and stupidly thick glasses.

(Speaking of glasses, a pair appeared on my nose. Boop.)

And despite the script I'd just walked into, I was more annoyed then afraid. Isobu, it seemed, was sufficiently on board with the "squash Konoha" plan that he'd gone so far as to reinforce Madara's mind control. Maybe it was a Rinnegan or Sharingan thing. Maybe it was a Tailed Beast thing. Maybe the concentrated power of my self-loathing had decided to take the mental attack weaponry for a spin.

Or maybe I was reading the situation wrong and the existence of a Dark Kei was somehow analogous to something else I'd never heard of.

…Though Dark Naruto was related to the boy's suppressed resentment after a lifetime of neglect by his hometown, apparently common with all Tailed Beast Hosts. Like I was, now. For about five minutes.

What did I have that was so devastating?

And then she opened her mouth.

"Useless."

I blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Four years of planning, and it amounts to nothing," she hissed, stalking toward me. I backed up, confidence neatly punctured. "Training. Fighting. Making friends. And nothing you did kept him safe."

…Oh hell.

"He nearly died. He should have died. You had the fate of the world in your hands and you let him live." Dark Kei snarled.

I skittered backward. "Obito is my friend!"

"What is one life in the face of those he'd kill if he grew up? The formation of Akatsuki, the Nine Tails attack? The Uchiha massacre, the fall of Kirigakure into the Bloody Mist, the Fourth Shinobi World War? How does the life of one teenage boy match up to the deaths of half a continent?" She was furious. "Why let him live? Why not slit his throat the minute he's squashed? Why didn't you kill him?"

"Oh, so we're going around killing kids now?" I snapped back, anger boiling in my chest. "You want me to kill my best friend, because he might be a monster?"

Dark Kei circled around me, hissing, "He is one!"

"Not yet!" I didn't lash out. I could have lashed out. But old-me had only ever slapped bugs. Dark Kei was very, very different. "Obito isn't a monster yet. And if I have anything to say about it, he won't be."

"Then you should have killed him when he was helpless." Dark Kei scoffed. "Could you even kill him now?"

I scowled. "So this is what it comes down to? Why I haven't punched Fate in the face? Or why I'm still friends with Obito?"

"You have done nothing." Dark Kei repeated, eyes glowing.

"Excuse me? Canon looks like the fucking Flying Spaghetti monster from where I'm sitting." I snapped. "Madara is to Obito as Darth Sidious is to Anakin goddamn Skywalker. But he hasn't crossed the threshold. Rin isn't dead." He hasn't started killing kids.

"How long do you think you can keep it that way?"

"A hell of a lot longer if you would let me!" I shouted.

"And if you fail?" Dark Kei asked quietly, beguiling.

Fucking bitch. "Then I'll…"

Then I'll…what?

Fear stabbed at the core of me, like an ice pick to the chest.

When it came to the Plot, Obito was the equivalent of a nuclear bomb over Hiroshima. Everything short of Madara's manipulations could be traced back to him. Or more specifically, it could be traced back to a combination of Rin's death, the patented Uchiha genetic psychological and physiological vulnerability to insanity, social isolation, broken promises, and skilled emotional manipulation by a geriatric nihilist. Obito simply acted, based on the busted hamster wheel in his head. It was also becoming clear that Madara's spider-web was broader and more subtle than I'd expected, which was another nail in our collective coffin.

And yet at the same time, his massive body count could have been even more devastating. He could have neatly sidestepped any need for the Akatsuki just via his Kamui ability. He could have just grabbed Naruto ten or fifteen years before the Fourth Shinobi World War and kept him in a box, and never had to fight a war. It wasn't like fucking dimension hopping was a thing anyone but Kakashi would be able to fight on the level. And he hadn't been able to do that until he was thirty.

And Obito, even as early as age fourteen, could have reduced Kakashi to compost in two seconds flat.

I pressed my lips together in a thin, whitening line.

And yet he hadn't. He'd displayed a bizarre mix of villainous competence and childish amusement in screwing with everyone from his subordinates to the Five Kages. He could have stolen every Tailed Beast host in approximately an hour, barring shenanigans.

He could have crushed the world under his heel.

…And he didn't.

I could just say that he was a moron no matter how old or evil he got, but that didn't feel right.

…Though it'd be accurate for a couple of people I knew…

"We haven't hit the point of no return yet." I said quietly. "If I fail to protect Rin, I'll still try to bring Obito back."

"Why? Why not kill him and save yourself the trouble?"

Because I had to start as I meant to go on.

Premise: I kind of want to keep the world from getting more fucked up, or even fixing it a little.

Okay. So. How do you bring about a kinder world, without using really freaky methods such as the Eternal Tsukuyomi, which are reflective of a profound disillusionment with reality? How do you change people? How do you make things better?

Well, going by the previous era, cynicism and the cycle of revenge hadn't worked out for anyone. Suppose the Uchiha wiped out the Senju, or vice-versa? Different clan would pop up to take their place. Same shit, different day. Hashirama Senju's willingness to work with other clans, to take them into the fold, and to make alliances where before there was neutrality, had build Konoha. It'd built the shinobi system which, while flawed, was better than the old ways.

Madara had been a walking snag in that plan. Maybe if Hashirama had killed him properly, I wouldn't be here.

Killing Obito wouldn't prevent Madara from finding another cat's paw. And I wouldn't be able to locate Madara without Obito's help. At least I knew that Obito had been Madara's flunkie.

And unless I planned on waiting until Naruto was a teenager, I had to start now.

…The only potential snag in this was the possibility, however narrow, that Obito had died.

In which case I was probably fucked, because ANBU.

Though Madara wouldn't have needed to set all this shit up if Obito wasn't still kicking.

"I won't deny that killing certain people would make everyone's lives easier." I said after a while. "I just don't think Obito's one of them."

Dark Kei hissed, "Excuses! You saw—!"

"I saw a lot of things. And despite that, I'm on Team Minato." I said. "I was there when Obito was crushed. I was kidnapped. I was made into the Three Tails's host. All of those were things Rin was supposed to do."

I wasn't looking at things the right way. I had assumed that Obito was the same, despite the differences in our lives. But who could be? We are defined by the events in our lives and our reactions to them, and they'd gotten off-track somehow.

I met her eyes. "Thing is, I also don't remember anything about Hayate having a family. I don't remember Kakashi being kidnapped. I don't remember the Chinatsugumi." I spread my hands out, shrugging. But I got it. I understood. And the thing I understood had gotten bigger without me noticing, much to my pleasant surprise. "It might not seem like much of a difference. But it never does at the center, does it? But if I chucked a rock into a lake, the ripples end up quite a lot bigger than the rock."

I almost smiled at her. At her existence, bound up around fear and pain.

"I'm the rock."

Nearby, water started to gently flow around us.

"But still, I need to own that." I remarked, to Dark Kei's turned back. "I'm not helpless. Not useless. But I think I need to keep you on board."

Nothing good has ever come from denying parts of yourself that do, in fact, have a point.

"Or at least your advice." I hedged, lowering my arms to my sides. I didn't need to hurt her. I didn't want to hurt her anymore. I probably wasn't capable of it anyway.

"What makes you think you can change anything, after four years of nothing?" Dark Kei demanded, but her voice was so much smaller. She was less threatening, too.

I paused.

Great Man theory of history, or did I take a populist stance? Was influence over the world opportunistic, or inborn?

"I don't think that history is made solely by big names." I said carefully. Though here, it might be, there was a whole world of human beings who contributed to the way things went. Madara wouldn't have become the threat he was without the contributions of his clan and its history, or the Sage of Six Paths. The shinobi system wouldn't exist without the people in it.

And yet, what would Madara have been if he'd been born a member of the Kaguya clan? Or if he'd been born a no-name civilian child, like Rin? Clan, talent, historical placement, and luck had all been a part of his rise to notoriety.

There were astoundingly exceptional people in this world, yes. But I think that they owed something to their bloodlines, at least here. Or they owed things to the people who never made it into history books—the farmers, the soldiers, the cousins, the lovers. Everyone around them, who had a hand in their continued existence, was owed some of that credit. If not everything.

And I, reborn into the body of a child from a no-name family, had been lucky or unlucky enough to end up standing on the fulcrum on which the world balanced.

(I was holding the gun that could kill Archduke Ferdinand and his wife. Would I? And would it matter if I didn't?)

Madara's particular plot for the world would keep going if I didn't find a way to nip it in the bud. I wasn't sure I could do that alone, or at that exact moment. It didn't seem like an immediate thing.

But could I remove Obito from the line of fire?

One way to find out.

"When I get out of here, I'm going to make sure that Sensei knows what's coming." I told her, looking down at the ripples spreading below my feet.

"You aren't going to live long enough for that." Dark Kei said sharply, fists clenching.

"And you don't get to decide that." I replied. "Whether you're the Three Tails or Madara's seal or a bizarre amalgamation of both, there's enough going on right now that if I do get killed, I expect it's going to be because of the assholes outside of my head." There were probably enough of them that they outnumbered the voices bouncing around in my skull. Simple statistics and all that. "But if I can't do shit on my own, then I need to find people who can."

Though didn't I already know that?

Thanks, Rikuto.

I held up my hand. So did Dark Kei. She kind of looked like she was gonna slap me, but I was more going for a formal oath. Oh well. Hopefully, I wouldn't have to hug her—she probably would have stabbed me.

And then the sky started falling. As pieces fell away—like crashing wallpaper to something as big as an ant—crashing into the water a long ways off, the pattern underneath was pulsating red-orange.

Rin goes limp, head snapping back and her nose trailing blood into the air.

Then everything goes red, backed only by the sound of screaming.


I slammed back into control of my body with the rough impression that I'd been caught in an especially aggressive revolving door. I'd gone through and come out the opposite side of where I'd come in, sort of dizzy, and the Dreamer's Yin chakra left a sort of trailing line of string back through the hell-device in question. Maybe from an unraveled metaphysical sweater.

…I'm probably misusing the word "metaphysics" at this point, so I should stop.

"Kei?" said Kakashi's voice.

Also, I was on fire.

Metaphorical fire, but still. And had a couple of slash wounds I couldn't quite remember getting. The Dreamer really wasn't ready to take the old meatbag for a spin, I suppose. Push past it, push past it…

I shook my head to clear it, but it mostly made my head bang like a drum. Ow. I blinked, twice, and everything was bizarrely orange-red. Other than that, though, I could see everything more clearly than I had in some time.

And I could feel everything. Tailed Beast chakra in my coils where it bubbled and burbled where mine had been gentle to the point of being unnoticeable sometimes. I could feel other chakra signatures even without trying, pinpointing twenty normal human signatures and a bizarre seal on each one that marked each as not-us, not-ally.

It felt like the seal clamped around my heart.

I blinked again. Looked down.

Immediately, I brought up a diagnostic jutsu on the unconscious kunoichi in Kakashi's arms, as though nothing at all had changed. My chakra seemed to sputter, as though Isobu couldn't believe his chakra was being used for non-stabby purposes.

"Kei." Kakashi said again, and his hand closed around one of my wrists. I looked at him over the top of the screen—mild concussion, broken nose—and remembered.

…Yeah, I probably needed to focus on the threat. Kill everyone, then heal Rin if possible. Okay. I could do that. The hell-creature essence pounding through my chakra coils would help. I could sort of feel it bubbling along aggressively, as though pleased that I was t-minus five seconds from committing horrible violence.

I dropped the jutsu. I placed my other hand over his, just for a second, and he let go. I stood. Felt Isobu's chakra pulse. Felt someone else's chakra get close.

Lashed out with one fist and hit someone hard enough in the chest to make the rib cage give way. I could feel it when he bounced off the ground twice, and went still. And when the seal in his chest died with him.

Huh.

Kakashi still had Obito's eye trained on me. He didn't look at the guy I'd smashed. He did, however, look really surprised anyway.

"Hey." I told Kakashi, while also listening to my own voice and being surprised by how deep and guttural I sounded. "I'm…I'm back now."

"…Right." His voice was a little too confused to be truly skeptical.

"I know things have been strange lately." I said, keeping half of my attention on the enemy. "But I promise, I'll explain later. Keep Rin safe."

Kakashi's eyes narrowed and he gently eased himself out from under Rin. His chakra was slighter and more subtle than the cauldron boiling in my chest, but I could still feel it and I could see the anger in the way he moved. And aside from Rin, he was the only uncorrupted person in range.

The only person not carrying Madara's little helper around in their chest cavity. Hell if I even knew what everyone else's did.

Mine seemed to involve a possession attempt and (at the moment) an awful lot of internal screaming matches with a giant turtle.

Kakashi's hand remained on Rin's shoulder. But…

"No more suicidal heroics on this team, Kei." Kakashi informed me. Obito flashed through my head, not for the first time that day. I frowned. "We're all going home this time."

"…I'd like that." I admitted, looking down at Rin even as our enemy was busy trying to figure out the best way to flank us. "Thank you."

And if things went wrong, then…well, Kakashi's Sharingan ought to give us a measure of control. For a bit.

Then, just as I got ready to lead the way, I felt the faintest trace of a very familiar chakra signature.

Obito!

And that is exactly when I heard a wonderfully familiar voice shout, "KEI!"

…the only problem was the fact that the owner of both that chakra and that voice was also carrying around two alien presences.

One, a near-match to the thing that kidnapped me.

The other, a copy of the thing sitting in my chest.

Oh fuck.

Even as my head twisted his way, I knew we were in for a hell of a ride.


AN: AND NOW KEI IS CAUGHT UP, JUST IN TIME FOR THE FIFTY-CHAPTER MARK. :) Next chapter shall involve fighting!

Also, you can now find Catch Your Breath on Archive of Our Own. It's not going to be my main posting area-rather, I plan to use it as a mirror and as a backup in case something happens. I'm posting arc-by-arc since apparently writing fanfiction in class is a thing not to be encouraged, and there are time constraints involved.

Anyway, catch ya later. XD