Warning: alcohol abuse & suicidal ideation secondary to depression
Two bottles of whiskey were consumed and Asuka was a happy woman. Drunk, yes. But happy. And a little loopy if she was being honest.
"Tora... you bitch, hic, stop scratching my furniture!" She drunkenly slurred, glazed eyes glaring at the unwanted guest in her home. The damn cat ignored her. It was rather focused, making mince out of her poor couch cushion, as it had done the entire time here. "How am I, hic, going to get back my deposit if you keep, hic, ruining the shit in my crib... oh, wait... you're technically not a bitch bitch. What do they call a, hic, female cat again...? Do demon kitties even have genders?"
Asuka knew she wasn't making much sense in her rumbling, but she was too blissed out to care. With a huff, she leaped from the coffee table (why was she even on the table?) and landed wobbly next to the demonic creature that was pretending to be a cat.
"Should I get a, hic, tattoo of a cat demon?" she pondered aloud whilst staring at Tora.
Too out to mind her own safety, Asuka pulled the feline into her arms and dropped onto the couch with the grace of an elephant. Whilst ignoring Tora's yowls as she cuddles the beast to the best of her drunken abilities, Asuka wondered if it had been a good idea to start binge drinking since noon sans food.
Ah, well. Chakra should help with any adverse effects on her health. Besides, there was nobody here to judge her drinking habits.
After all, she was a transmigrator.
That reminder caused a spike of gender dysphoria to appear, which then made some of her happiness fade, which she was not having. Releasing Tora from her clutches, she fished out a fresh cancer stick and made her way to the kitchen. With a lit cigarette dangling in between her moist lips, she opened a new bottle (vodka this time) and poured a glass.
Just as she was about to down it in one go, the glass disappeared from her numb fingers. Asuka stared at her digits in confusion. She turned them this and that way with a frown on her face. She then peeked under the kitchen table whilst blinking slowly. "Huh, where'd it go?" she slurred, baffled.
"Just how wasted are you?" A masculine voice spoke judgingly from above her. "No, never mind. I don't care enough to know."
Asuka straightened to see Obito in his full Akatsuki glory, standing in her modest kitchen, dripping blood onto her wooden floor. "That'll be a bitch to clean," she bemoaned in her drunken stupefaction.
Obito, surprisingly, removed his mask and gave her a look, completely unimpressed by her drinking habits. Well, sucks to be him (literally), but a girl's gotta cope somehow. And the most familiar way to do so in this unfamiliar world was to binge the day away. This hadn't been her first rodeo since her arrival to this world (and probably not gonna be her last).
"So..." she indolently slumped against the fridge. "Why're you here?"
Obito ignored her query and walked deeper into her home. Him ignoring her was going to turn into a habit, wasn't it? Traumatized, adult Obito wasn't fun at all, her drunken self-decided.
Rolling her eyes, she forwent getting another glass and simply grabbed the whole bottle to go as she followed the blood trail, akin to Hansel and Gretel with their breadcrumbs... but more sinister.
The trail went on and continued underneath a closed, locked door. The only reason why she knew it was locked was because she couldn't get her clumsy fingers to open the damn thing.
Asuka's buzzed mind needed a whole minute to realize that she was standing in front of her bathroom and that Obito had probably wanted to use her shower in privacy – just like he had used her wardrobe in their shared space in Kamui.
With that knowledge secured, Asuka finally stopped trying to pry the door open and returned to the living room, drinking vodka straight from the bottle along the way. Somewhen, Tora had left, but not before it had finished mutilating her entire couch. Bastard. Now it needed to be replaced rather than repaired. There went more of her savings.
"... Should I steal some money from the Uchiha compound? I mean, they don't need it, and it's not like they'll rise from their graves to nag at me for being unethical. Oh, wait. I'm pretty sure they've been criminated. Even better. But what if I meet their damned, angry spirits? Uchiha ghosts with Sharingan eyes... Nooo, get out of my head! That's too darn scary of a picture... Are ghosts real, though? Am I real? Is this world real? We're all just ink on paper, ink on paper, ink on paper~ Or are we words typed into word docs. Wait, I don't think I'm real. Am I real? I feel real. But do I, really? What's an illusion and what's reality? How do we differentiate such a thing? Ah, tis the question of life... But I don't know if I'm alive enough to question the question of life... Should I stab myself to check if I'm alive? No, what if I accidentally killed myself. Ah, but what if the answer to getting back is the kill myself? Is it worth a shot? Eh, should I try gambling? My luck's pretty crap though... I mean, I swear someone out there wanted me to be crushed by boulders. Or was it eaten alive? I seriously thought I'd go crazy there... especially when that damn memory of Ri- no, I need another drink. Stop remembering stupid shit. Drink drink drink. Bottoms up up up."
Asuka mumbled to herself as she twirled wobbly around the living room like a demented penguin. The bottle in her hand was almost empty as she chugged it down like water. Before she could manage to drain it dry, however, her bottle disappeared, and she was bodily thrown over a shoulder.
The world became blurry and swirly, and just as she was getting used to it, vertigo hit her as she was manhandled to stand. Oh, why was the floor so unsteady, she inwardly moaned.
"Get your shit together, Asuka." Was all the warning she received before something slammed hard against her gut. She immediately fell onto her hands and knees and abruptly spewed.
"Noooo," she bemoaned even as she continued to hurl all undigested liquor and gastric fluids onto the floor. "What a, urp, waste of a, blegh, good drink, hurp."
It took a long time for her to stop vomiting and dry heaving after the initial go, but she eventually did, thank Jashin for small mercies. Before she could even contemplate a celebratory cheer, the voice of the devil whispered into her ears, "Fool." she heard as fingers start to plunge past her lips and poke roughly against the back of her throat.
Aaaaaand... There went her gag reflex.
Obito scrunched his nose in disgust as his... alternate self, Asuka, gagged and continued round two of spilling his guts onto the toilet's tiled floors.
This was damn degrading, considering they were the same person. When he disregards the Hashirama cells in him, their DNA matched perfectly (he checked it thrice, just to be on the safe side, too). This damn fool, who was practically suicidal if he heard those drunken ramblings correctly, was a hundred percent Uchiha Obito.
Obito wasn't sure why he was still here, nor why he was stopping a suicidal idiot from dying via alcohol poisoning. It wasn't any of his business if Asuka wanted to drown himself in alcohol. But seeing a version of him so pathetic in grief... It angered him.
Obito hadn't meant to appear in front of Asuka. He was still in the midst of figuring a plan to deal with this unexpected and unpleasant surprise called Itsuaki Asuka. However, the Akatsuki hideout didn't come with a shower, and if he could be clean, he'd rather not stay filthy. Hence his decision to drop by for a quick wash.
It, obviously, didn't go as planned. The heavy smell of burnt tobacco mixed with alcohol clued him on it.
The first thing he saw when he stepped out of Kamui was a drunk Asuka pouring himself another glass. Obito did a quick scan of the house (was that Tora?) and saw two other empty bottles on the messy floor, along with extinguished cigarette butts everywhere. The second was Asuka's intention of chugging down 200mls of vodka in one go.
Obito reacted on instinct, he snatched the glass away from the crybaby's hand and poured the contents down the sink. When he turned back to glare at Asuka, an insult on the tip of his tongue, this pathetic mess who dared to be his alternate self was dazedly searching for his cup as if it had mysterious grown a pair of legs and skittled underneath the table.
Obito could feel the veins on his forehead throb with the need to correct this disappointment of an Uchiha (was this what Madara felt when he first met a younger, undisciplined Obito?). Even at his lowest, he wasn't a drinker. Alcohol distorted one's mind and fixed nothing. It was a fool's medicine.
With a hefty sigh, Obito thoroughly made sure that there was nothing left inside Asuka's stomach before he was satisfied with knocking out his alternate self and throwing him in the bed. Afterward, he removed all evidence of his presence (including the vomit, just to return the favor for letting him use the shower), and returned to Zetsu's side in the Akatsuki base.
Obito, whilst ignoring Zetsu's annoying questions, inwardly told himself to keep an extra eye on Asuka, lest the suicidal fool actually went ahead and offed himself. Of course, Obito wasn't concerned about the other's wellbeing or anything akin to that, he simply was a man who couldn't stand an unpredictable chess piece on his board. He couldn't miss the opportunity to groom a malleable tool after it had fallen straight into his hands.
After all, despite how weak and unstable his alternate self appeared to be, he was still, undeniably Uchiha Obito. And an Uchiha Obito with both eyes had potential (and if the other turned out to be a disappointment, he could always take those eyes for himself).