Thank you for your support! You're giving me life~

Beta-read by the lovely Sanatoria! She helped me make this readable yo

(Chapter title from twenty one pilots' "Chlorine")

Chapter II - poisonous vibration help my body run

Even with his suppressed chakra signature that he was certain no one could sense, Obito still opted to travel a considerable distance from the clearing before finally choosing to stop and assess the situation more clearly (only then did he realize he could have used Kamui. His thoughts were a mess). Now that he was away from the battlefield, the gravity of the situation was beginning to catch up to him. Not to mention the lingering feeling of Rin's stiff body, that did wonders in tangling his mind up. It had certainly been awhile since he had been in such a disheveled state—he could barely focus on his surroundings. Despite that, his careful, calculated thinking, honed over years of strategizing, fortunately hadn't completely abandoned him, and was now whispering him rational instructions. So even though the better part of him was beginning to drown in a chaos that was his heart, he forced his mind to somewhat focus.

He leaned against the lean trunk of the tree he was perched on and inhaled deeply, closing his eye.

First task—calming down.

Obito once again extended his senses and willed his rapid heartbeat to at least slightly slow down. There was no immediate danger. He was alone (more or less) and no one was after him. So there was no actual reason to be this on edge.

(apart from Rin's blood on your hands, knees, chest—)

Obito steeled himself, taking another rather shaky breath.

(He pushed the whispers down.)

Assess. Make observations.

It was early morning. The location seemed to be... near the Country of Fire, if memory served. He bore only one eye and his body was encased in Tobi's. He had just left the place where his old life had ended and a new one had begun (breathe breathe breathe). Those, and other smaller details, pointed towards one irrefutable fact—this appeared to be a recreation of a certain period of his past.

Obito clenched his trembling fists. It might have been painful. He didn't register it.

Don't lose focus.

Now, from that conclusion, Obito could stem two theories so far. Either this was his cruelly twisted afterworld, and he did, in fact, die when he was supposed to, or he had somehow avoided death and was actually in the past.

The mere thought of the latter elicited a bone-deep shiver, and he felt his breath hitch. Light nausea welled up in his stomach, but Obito disregarded it. Or attempted to, at least. While he did have experience in dealing with colorful, cutting thoughts, never before had they been quite this sharp. They pierced through skin and flesh, threatening to rip old wounds open, digging without mercy. But Obito was nothing if not stubborn. He gripped the wheel tightly and steered his mind back, away from far-too-dangerous waters and back to what he did best, what sheltered him (and what he despised).

Continue.

Obito listened.

The idea of this being the Infinite Tsukuyomi had also briefly occurred to him, but he quickly disregarded that thought, since, one, he didn't doubt he really did die, and two, even if he had somehow survived, being forced to relive his most devastating moment was light-years away from what he imagined a perfect world would be. A consequential notion followed that perhaps it was simply a genjutsu then, but that was also quite improbable, given that Obito wasn't exactly known for being easily trapped in one, much less being unable to leave it.

Which left him with only two explanations, both equally distressing, though in their own ways.

He could already feel a tearing headache closing in.

Explore them.

Desperately, Obito grasped at the thin threads of reason and pushed the incoming shudder down. Focus, focus, focus.

He bit his lower lip in concentration.

The first theory about this being his hell had, in the beginning, seemed almost undeniable. The last thing he could remember was sacrificing himself to save a child he put all his hopes into, and a long-lost friend. As he had turned to ash, he could vaguely recall a bright Rin meeting him in what he thought had been the Pure Land. But after that... He wasn't sure how much time had passed before he had blinked into consciousness again and found the same girl's departed form in his arms.

Naturally, the first thing he had assumed after such a chain of events could only be eternal damnation. And for awhile, it made perfect sense (since you're damned damned damned). It, however, began being gradually dubious as time actually progressed. Obito had stayed unmoving with her body for far longer than the first time, and so certain things had begun occurring that were not part of his memory. As if the forever he had believed he was destined to was not quite as everlasting. Moments passed, and night had slowly begun to pass. While Obito could never claim he knew how the afterlife worked, he was rather certain it wasn't supposed to be like this.

Which led him to his second theory. He wasn't dead and had somehow ended up in the past. Or an alternative dimension altogether.

His lips curved downwards at the calm assessment.

Time-travel was certainly not entirely unheard of. Though there weren't people who could truly testify that they had journeyed through time, the idea in general had been mentioned on a few scarce occasions in Obito's information-gathering, though he had always dismissed it with a scoff. Why waste precious time and energy on such a delicate and unpredictable notion, when one could create a world of his deepest desires without any risk? In hindsight, even if he had paid more attention to it, he doubted it would have been of much help in this particular situation, seeing as how he certainly hadn't performed any jutsu or seal that would have placed him here. The same went for space travel, even if he was more familiar with that particular subfield. Obito could travel through dimensions, sure, but never alternative realities.

After evaluating these two theories, the rational part of his mind concluded that there wasn't, in fact, enough data to come to a definitive answer. Even if he confirmed either, they both were too broad to accurately explain his predicament.

So in the end, Obito decided that he had no idea what was going on.

That was definitely something new.

His right eye fluttered open and he exhaled a soft sigh. Either way, he couldn't remain here. Whatever the situation was, being idle was never his forte. He had to act based on one theory. His disheveled state of mind was offering no help (he could barely keep it at bay as it was), so Obito grasped at his carefully sharpened skill to shove all distracting thoughts or feelings away so his consciousness wouldn't be rendered useless. The cold and calculating part of his mind reasoned that it would best to follow a belief that he was indeed in the past or an alternative reality. In that case, he'd be able to gather enough information quickly enough to come to an actual conclusion.

(Sometimes, Obito hated the unnatural part of his brain—sometimes, very rarely, almost never.)

His shoulders slumped downwards.

Was a simple death really too much to ask?

''Let's go already, it's not safe here.''

Zetsu's voice broke him out of his thoughts. Right. Now that he had sort of decided to follow one idea, he had to form a plan of action. First of all—where should he go?

Obito's mind immediately flashed him pictures of Konoha. The faded colors trickled unpleasantly behind his eyes, and he tried to blink away the rising smoke, demolished buildings, and streets littered with bodies. For years he had associated his (former, always and forever) village with despair and tragedy, the feeling slowly fading into sheer indifference over time, yet his heartstrings still tugged ever-so-rarely as unwelcome memories rose during certain times. Obito had always written the twinging feeling off as a twisted form of anger or hate; nothing more, nothing less. A sense of longing for the reality he had discarded as beyond saving, a mere illusion, had been lost to him for far too long, and had to be literally beaten back into him. Now, however, when his heart could pour a colorful variety of emotions mostly unfiltered, Obito thought he'd choke on the painful ache.

No, Obito couldn't go back there, not like this, (never at all), not when he had betrayed it in a beat, not when he had wreaked havoc upon it on more than one occasion, not when—

Madara, his mind suddenly hissed in urgency. Black Zetsu. They're still...

Obito clung to the fleeting thought desperately, as if someone drowning to a lifeline.

This timeline... This period, in it, he was still... Madara and Zetsu, they...

Calm down calm down calm down—

A mild shiver ran down his spine and Obito clenched his fists tightly (not his, this is wrong, out outout). He forced his chaotic mind to settle again (when did control become so difficult?), pushing down any scattered thoughts, and tried to focus only on Madara and Zetsu. The cave. This time.

Regardless of what this was, Obito vehemently refused to follow the same path. It had taken him so long (far too long, far too late) to realize he didn't want it, not really, and admit he could have chosen a much brighter a path, and not litter it with bodies of people he once cared about, and not believe they would be alive and real in his own world instead of these fakes these lies these—

Calm down.

Obito steeled himself. And willed himself to concentrate on one thought only.

Madara. Black Zetsu.

At that moment, it didn't matter what he would do later. In the future, if there was actually one. Obito didn't deserve it, not any prospect of it, not after throwing it away for an illusion but. He allowed himself to have one goal in whatever fucked up world this was—Madara and Black Zetsu could not continue living under any circumstances. Especially the demonic parasite.

Focus on that, just focus, don't think, focus and focus

Right now, they were expecting him. And at the same time, someone completely different. If he could manage to catch them off guard...

What would come next, Obito didn't know. Couldn't think about it. Couldn't let himself—

''Obito, are you listening to me?''

A wave of chilling water washed over him at the reminder that he was not actually alone. Obito spared a glance at his body. With Tobi wrapped around him, it would prove very difficult attacking anyone Madara didn't approve of. And if he asked the creature to release him (he didn't doubt it wouldn't complain) and killed Tobi beforehand, he was certain his actions would be quickly reported, and his tentative element of surprise would be thrown out the window. This revelation left him in quite the bind.

Obito chewed on his lip as he joggled his mind for any possible solution, something, anything that would give him the upper hand...

And as a certain thought occurred to him, he contemplated slapping himself.

He was an idiot.

There was no need to overthink. No need to come up with an intricate plan that would certainly have too many risks—all he had to do was for a short while pretend he was their Obito. If he recalled correctly, not long after his return, Madara had chosen to leave the world of the living, entrusting everything, including Black Zetsu, to him. So really, half of his work would be done for him. He would figure out what to do with the shadow later. For now, not much action was required.

Obito wasn't sure how to feel about it.

''Alright,'' he murmured finally, breaking the silence. ''Let's go.''

~.~

Right. Whoever was orchestrating fate's tune obviously found great pleasure in Obito's suffering.

The man's trembling hands clenched into fists as a venomous glare was cast over the area in front of him.

''Guruguru...'' He willed his sandpaper-like tongue to move, despite the name feeling bitter. His voice was laced with false calm, only barely concealing the shaking. ''Where is Madara?''

At the moment, he was standing still in the cave that had been his and his ancestor's hideout for many years—and yet it was noticeably absent of said ancestor. Or anyone and anything, for that matter. After flaring his senses, Obito concluded that he was, in fact, alone in this vast cavern.

This certainly had not happened the first time around. Even the Gedo Statue was missing, which was beyond odd. Even if Madara had left, how the hell would he have summoned that thing with him? At this point in time the elder couldn't even stand on his own, much less bring the shell of the Juubi with him. Which shouldn't even be damn possible, considering the Rinnegan was required for the summon, and Obito was rather certain Madara was not in possession of said doujutsu in this time period.

This whole mess just kept spiraling down into chaos, and once again Obito was left dumbfounded. Only due to exceptional control over his body (not mind?) did he not shake from frustration.

''Ah-ah, well this is definitely weird,'' Tobi hummed. ''They left us behind! Why would they be so rude?''

The Uchiha carefully examined the creature's words. While he couldn't decipher any concrete tones that would betray what the artificial human was feeling, his comments were enough to get a vague idea.

Tobi appeared to be just as confused, which meant he really didn't know anything.

And that was more than mildly concerning.

Alright, alright, calm down. First step? Is there any danger present?

Actually... Obito couldn't tell. While there didn't seem to be anyone around, that didn't mean the place was safe. Until he found out why exactly it had been deserted, the man couldn't give a conclusive answer.

Fantastic. He was already failing.

Ideas, ideas, ideas... Obviously Mountain's Graveyard in this world or time was still the right place, since Tobi would have pointed out if it wasn't, so that theory was no good. Then why would Madara suddenly decide to leave, abandoning his protégé? Didn't his whole plan hinge on Obito succeeding him? And at such a crucial time, too? It didn't make any sense, unless he somehow, which should not damn possible, knew that Obito was returning with less than cooperative intentions. But that was absurd, how the hell would he—

Obito's heart plummeted to his feet as a certain thought occured.

Unless he had indeed ended up in the past (or an alternative dimension, he reminded himself), and he wasn't the only one. There was a possibility, however implausible, that somehow someone else also traveled with him.

That left him with either Madara or Black Zetsu.

If the elder had journeyed back, too, then Obito doubted this course of action would be the one he would have taken. He would have know that he was being deceived by the shadow and would have most likely abandoned his initial plan. Madara in his current state definitely wouldn't be able to outright kill the damned parasite, but he would still do something, and wouldn't outright leave Obito like this. So Madara being the one who accompanied him was an improbable option.

That left him with Black Zetsu.

And that was certainly the less preferable option.

Obito didn't know how the final fight between Kaguya and Naruto along with Sasuke had ended, but if the pair had managed (he prayed to all gods they did) to defeat the goddess, then no doubt Zetsu would try anything to prevent that from happening if given the chance. But it still didn't explain why the cave was deserted, since up until the very end Obito had executed their plan to the letter marvelously, so it would only be in the shadow's best interest to leave that unchanged. However, since Zetsu had decided to run from the Uchiha instead, that left Obito with only one plausible theory.

Not only had Black Zetsu traveled back with him, he was aware that Obito had, too.

In such a case his predicament would very much become hell regardless of reality.

It was hysterically ironic how quickly power was slipping from Obito's grasp when he actually decided to do something for the world that didn't include attempting to take it over.

Either way...

''Hey, Guruguru,'' Obito once again addressed the creature, this time his voice considerably more controlled. ''Could you get off?''

''Eh? But you're way stronger this way!'' the other protested, but Obito could hear that it was rather light-hearted.

''Just for a short while.''

''Aaah, fine, I'll try to find out where they all went in the meantime,'' Tobi mentally shrugged and unwrapped himself from the Uchiha.

Obito glanced down at his much-younger-than-he-was-used-to body. Sure, all the scarring and bruising was still there, but in other aspect his new form felt so... strange. Which was another point in favor to the time-or-dimensional travel, since if this was actually Hell, it wouldn't matter in what body he was, and here it did. These hands had already taken lives, but not ones he loved, not ones that believed he was dead, not thousands of former enemies and allies alike. These hands—

No, wait, scratch that—hand. Obito blinked once in momentary confusion as he stared at the paper white stump that had been his right arm. It took him a short while to find the certain memory—he had somehow destroyed it while attempting to break out of this cave, hadn't he? This slightly complicated things. He would prefer to have two hands, but seeing as how there were no White Zetsu around—

His eyes flickered to the artificial figure next to him, which seemed to be stalling and observing Obito with interest. Initially he had planned on killing the creature on the first occasion, that being now, since evidently Madara didn't want the younger Uchiha anywhere close anyway, but given his condition...

I suppose you'll get to live awhile yet.

''Hey, why are ya looking at me like—''

Tobi didn't get to finish his sentence before Obito's hand shot to grab him and in a moment's notice transported him to his personal dimension. From there, the creature wouldn't cause any troubles until Obito decided to use him—for one reason or another. Perhaps he would prove to be an asset beyond providing him with a prosthetic.

Obito's musings were, unfortunately, rudely interrupted quickly after he was left alone in the premise. As if the gods didn't hate him enough.

A couple of things happened all at once.

Loud, thunderous noises broke through the eerie silence and the whole cave shook violently. Obito's eye widened as he shot it upwards only to find the ceiling collapsing along with a wave of small papers fluttering down.

Explosives!

Before he could activate his Kamui, a sharp, piercing pain cut directly through his heart, causing him to gasp violently, hand shooting to his chest. Scorching daggers dug into his chakra coils, seemingly ripping them apart. With great horror, Obito realized that he could not access any chakra, not to mention the agony from attempting to do so. He had absolutely no idea how that was possible, but at the moment he was facing a much deadlier problem.

Quite literally.

The rocks and explosive tags were closing in and it would take them only a moment to reach him, most likely sending him into the afterlife for certain.

(Before he could attempt anything, though, dark thoughts flooded his mind, the idea of this being pointless suddenly making itself loudly known. Perhaps he should allow fate to correct its course, perhaps he should just stop fighting and dismiss any treacherous, silent musings that had begun to brew inside his mind at the notion that maybe he wasn't dead, perhaps—)

Despite the growing hesitation, Obito's hand almost involuntarily formed the Tiger seal and tore through the burning pain, desperately reaching for his cut-off chakra reserves. He only needed a little, a small drop, just a speck, just for a measly shunshin, because he was not going to die here, he would not allow that. Black began dancing in his vision, conflicting thoughts screeched louder than the explosives that began burning his body, but he ignored it all. Survival instincts kicked desperately, harder than his dark, inky emotions so he fought and fought and fought—

—and found himself falling down just outside the collapsing cave.

...Well damn.

Slowly, he rolled on his back and exhaled a deep breath, wincing at the sharp pain such simple actions brought.

It was safe to say his first few hours in this world had been disastrous.

And that was saying something, knowing what kind of life he had lived.

However, Obito thought as he moved his injured hand to the still-throbbing chest, that never happened before.

What the hell is going on?

It appeared the restrictions had lifted, as he could feel the comforting flow of chakra, however little, gradually beginning to soothe his aching body. His heart still held that sharpness from before, though it was quickly diminishing. Whatever had happened had completely cut off his ability to use chakra, and Obito wasn't entirely certain whether his technique worked at the last second due to his desperate attempts or because the suppression had somehow disappeared. Perhaps a combination of both.

Whatever the case was, Obito felt warm relief seeping into him.

He was still alive. Probably.

Even if reasons for concern had just shot through the roof.

Obito knew he would have to dissect this particular very troubling issue at a later time, since that little event had somehow drained almost all of his energy, his chakra reserves edging on the brink of fatal, and he could barely stay awake as it was. Not to mention the damage he had failed to avoid—a quick observation confirmed his fears. The better part of his body was scorched and the man wasn't sure whether the wounds would ever heal, even with his enhancements.

However, he couldn't remain laying there, whatever his condition was.

Obito needed a hospital. And fast. If he passed out in this place, all his troubles to avoid his recent near-death experience would be for naught. With great distress, he realized that his best chance was Konoha. His mind screamed in anxiety at the mere idea, but even someone as stubborn as him had to admit that, in a sense of practicality, no place would be better. If nothing was drastically different in this time or world or dimension, then all Obito was was a loyal shinobi, killed in action. Or, at least, thought to be. He was certain he would receive all the necessary attention, though he feared that perhaps he would attract too much. He couldn't afford the wrong people becoming too privy and attempting to gain information while he was still unconscious. It was one thing he absolutely could not afford.

That reason alone was almost enough to decide against his hometown. However, a traitorous thought whispered that there were certain people who would not allow anyone to enter his mind so easily. There were still people who trusted him, who wanted to protect him and who had no idea how easily he had murdered them once upon a time.

That reason had almost completely solidified his resolution to not come back.

There was no way, absolutely no way in hell and back—

And yet.

Run away and never come back. Run away again. Run away like before. Abandon reality and strive for an illusion. What do you want to hear?

...He'd leave the self-damnation for a later time.

Now he had to assure there was a later time.

~.~

The serene atmosphere around their small camp was suddenly broken by a signature that slowly began flickering a small distance away. Immediately the men were on their feet, hands already tightly holding various weapons as the unknown intruder slowly approached them. They held off their attacks, choosing to simply observe first, yet ready to jump into action if need be. The chakra didn't seem threatening—in fact, it was barely flaring, which only caused confusion among the sensors within their group. Finally, a slumping figure emerged from the cloak of darkness, leaning on a nearby tree for support. Bewilderment flashed across a few younger faces at the peculiar sight. The captain of the team, however, did not faze.

''Identify yourself!'' he barked, carefully observing the what now appeared to be a young boy. He knew it would be foolish to lower one's guard because of a child, no matter how young or helpless they looked.

The newcomer was silent for a while, frozen in place, but finally he slowly lifted his head, glancing over the group. The men shared a collective sharp inhale at the sight of a blazing-red Sharingan, putting them all even higher on edge. However, only a second after, the threatening doujutsu faded into near-black. A sign of rightful ownership and a claim of peaceful intentions. A few felt their shoulders slightly relax, and they all waited for the mysterious boy to speak.

''I am...'' Soft words, soaked with exhaustion and pain, left the newcomer's trembling lips. ''Konoha's shinobi... Uchiha Obito.''

The boy didn't wait for the group's reaction. Consciousness abandoned him, and he plummeted to the hard ground.

And so it begins. I'm very excited to post the next chapter, but alas! Patience is key!

If ya can, drop down a review - it would be greatly appreciated. Any thoughts, ideas, theories, complaints, criticism - anything is welcomed! 'Till next time, folks