A/N: Word count is ~5k.

Rating: T

Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto. But I do own a package of the stuff.

Chapter 18 - Blind

"Alright, that's enough."

Rin and Obito paused to look over at their sensei with confused looks. Kakashi, who was standing next to the blonde, did the same.

"… Sensei?" Rin called out, still in her defensive stance. Her eyes darted between Minato and Obito. "… Er, did I do something wrong…?"

Minato shook his head and motioned for the two to walk over. "No, you were both doing well. It isn't necessary to continue the spar, and I have something to announce."

The Uchiha and brunette shared a look before shrugging, signaling the end of the spar with the seal of reconciliation for formality's sake. They walked over to where their teammate and sensei stood, the latter lacking the usual cheer he usually had.

Kakashi's brow furrowed as he looked up at the blonde. "Why'd you stop them, Minato-sensei? What do you have to announce?"

Rin chuckled. "This is… What, the third or fourth time already? I think we're all getting used to it now, with all of the announcements, sensei."

Obito had to agree. He had long since stopped worrying over these "announcements," what with the frequency of them lately. Besides, the war had already started, and he was fairly certain that the Kannabi Bridge mission wasn't going to be happening for a while—if it even happened for them, that is.

"Well," the blonde began, eyeing each of his students. "We've been spending the last handful of weeks training. I'm releasing you guys early so you guys can go home and prepare, because tomorrow, we're going to be taking on our first C-Rank in a while."

'… Never mind,' Obito thought with some veiled irritation. A C-Rank… No, there was no way it was the Kannabi Bridge Mission. It had only been a handful of weeks since the announcement of the war, and Obito was fairly certain that last time it had been more like a couple months. Not to mention, Kakashi was not yet a Jōnin—even if that wasn't particularly the most trustworthy factor to determine it.

"What's the mission?" He was still worried that, somehow, it was the Kannabi bridge mission, and that he had somehow sped up the timeline of the war. He had yet to complete his Senju cell treatment, and though he could probably rush the last portion to be prepared for the next day… If it didn't work, then he wouldn't be able to handle Madara and the man's veritable army of Zetsu clones. Especially with Kaguya's annoying emissary hovering around the man, too.

Minato turned to the Uchiha. "It's a delivery mission to an outpost bordering Yu no Kuni and Shimo no Kuni. The rations there have been dwindling and we need to replenish their stores."

"Hmm… So, we should pack for cold weather," Rin commented, tapping her chin. "What time are we meeting at the gate?"

"We'll be meeting at o-five-hundred hours, and we'll depart shortly thereafter."

Inwardly, Obito gave a sigh of relief. Not the Kannabi Bridge mission… But he knew for a fact that, last time, they hadn't gone on this mission, either. That meant that he had no foresight (hindsight?) to rely on regarding it. And considering how close they were to Kumo, chances of things going sour were actually rather high. He had to finish the Senju cell treatment, tonight.

"Anyway, I'll see you guys tomorrow. Come prepared." With those final words and a parting nod, the blonde disappeared in a blur.

Kakashi turned to his teammates, his brow still furrowed. "… Is it just me, or… Does Minato-sensei seem… Tired?"

He did. Obito had noticed the dark circles under the Jōnin's eyes as soon as he arrived at the training ground, and had been worried—especially what with how the frequency of seeing him at his house was dwindling.

"I agree," Rin replied with a frown. "He seemed tired, high-strung, and not to mention his chakra levels were lower than usual… Usually symptoms of people that have been out on the battlefield for too long."

"But sensei has been here in the village with us," the silver-haired Chūnin commented. "He hasn't taken any missions, since we haven't, either—he's been present to all of our team meets except a few, and for those he explicitly told us it was because he had to speak to the Hokage." Kakashi turned to Obito. "You live with him and Kushina-san, what's been going on at the house? Do you know anything?"

Obito crossed his arms. He'd noticed, a while ago, that Minato had slowly distanced himself from his own house. He was absent at meals more often, and on occasion, so was Kushina. Sometimes they didn't even come home until late when Obito was in his room dozing off, and their signatures always seemed drained and distressed—especially Minato's. He'd been wondering what they were doing, but had assumed it was regarding Orochimaru or some other important business. It wasn't as if Obito knew everything that his sensei had done (especially not at this time, when he was still rather ignorant) around this time, so he had taken the information in stride.

Something was clearly bothering their sensei, however. And now, it couldn't be attributed to Orochimaru, since the man was no longer in the village.

"I… I don't know," Obito gave a half-lie, "I don't really know what's going on, either."

Kakashi rolled his eyes. "Figures you wouldn't." Despite the words themselves, they were said without an ounce of contempt.

"… I just hope sensei will be okay," Rin whispered quietly.

The Uchiha could only nod. He hoped so, too.

Obito tilted his head to the side as a kunai zipped past him. He brought up a hand to block and deflect the two kicks that followed, one after the other, and threw the attacking figure to the side with practiced ease.

"Good," he commented lightly, eyeing Itachi as the boy just barely caught himself before falling flat on his face. "Your reaction time has improved. I can tell that you have been training."

The clan heir stood up and dusted himself off, nodding.

"But, you have a grave disadvantage," the time-traveler continued, earning him a confused look from his student. He smiled as he pat the younger Uchiha on the head. "You're too predictable. Your moves are mechanical, clearly trained and beaten into your reflexes, but because of that they are extremely readable. For practice and friendly sparring it's fine, but try and incorporate unexpected moves, don't go by the book all of the time. That'll be what saves you, once you're of the age to go out on the battlefield."

Itachi nodded again, giving Obito a rare smile. "Right. Thank you for teaching me, Obito-niisama."

The older Uchiha gripped his shirt near his heart and feigned hurt, as though struck by a painful blow. "Itachi, how could you? I've told you many times to not call me that!"

"… But—"

"My little cousin is so impersonal, he doesn't wish to be associated with me!" Obito ignored the widened eyes of the younger boy and continued his exaggerated tirade, placing the back of his free hand to his forehead. "I am deeply wounded!"

For all the world, he looked like he had been gravely wounded... Or drunk.

"But, respect is still supposed to be displayed because you are my teacher," Itachi commented quietly, confusion evident in his tone and look. "I—I had thought that you didn't want me to refer to you as 'Obito-san' anymore, and 'sensei' doesn't quite work either. 'Obito-niisama' is the only—"

Obito laughed, ruffling the hair of the younger Uchiha again with a chuckle. He had managed to get rather close to the boy, and it was a nice change of pace from the unreadable, serious looks he had been graced with in the beginning of their acquaintance. Honestly, had it lasted any longer, Obito might've wondered if he had slighted the boy in some manner and earned his animosity.

"'Niisama' is better than 'san', but it's still a hell of a lot stiffer than 'niisan'. You really need to relax. I'm going to correct my previous critique; you need to randomize your life, not just your fighting style."

Itachi's brow furrowed as he looked up at his sensei/brother. "… I… I'll attempt… To do that," he stated quietly, with clear difficulty. The poor kid couldn't even imagine stepping out of whatever boundaries the clan had set for him, and it honestly made Obito rather sad.

Instead of letting his discontent show, he smiled. "You do that. We're done for the day, so prepare for the next lesson." He turned to the veranda of the house. "I'm going on a C-Rank with my team tomorrow, a delivery mission, so I probably won't be back for a week or two. You'll have time to relax a bit."

Itachi nodded, stepping back to give a small bow. "I understand. Thank you for your direction, Obito-niisam—…san."

Obito smiled at the attempt, and after saying his goodbyes, walked into the house to exit from the front door. He had planned on Shunshin-ing straight to his home from there, but had the unfortunate pleasure of locking eyes with… Two disgruntled-looking Uchiha Elders, that began walking over as soon as they noticed him. He repressed the urge to roll his eyes; he recognized one, a mild-mannered, somewhat kind if not ignorant individual that had, on occasion, treated Obito amicably. Of course, that was his opinion when he was a child—and he hadn't noticed the underlying condescension at the time. What he had noticed at the time was that the man was always right (in his own mind) and was beyond reasoning with. Not all of the elders were like that, as this man was… Particularly stubborn and self-righteous, even for an Uchiha elder. The man's gray hairs clashed with the few black, giving him a distinct sign of age. The other that Obito didn't recognize, on the other hand, had hair that was entirely gray and with stress lines to match.

Obito did well with kindly, intelligent elders of the village. Not to say that the Uchiha clan Elders were unintelligent or lacking in cognitive functions, not at all, but they were often poor judges of character—due almost entirely to their incessant pride and unwillingness to see their own faults. It was never a pleasant affair when one gained the attention of an Uchiha clan Elder as it usually entailed a breach of law, a personal offense done to their person, or something "uncouth" that they felt should be addressed.

Whatever was the case, the encounter was very likely to end poorly.

"Uchiha Obito," the one of the left (the one Obito didn't recognize) stated more than asked in a demeaning tone. He sounded entirely as though someone had taken a shit in his tea that morning.

Obito nodded, not caring to give the customary bow. "Elders."

The one on the left, now dubbed cranky in the younger Uchiha's mind, scowled. "… Why do you not wear your clan's insignia?"

The time traveler almost raised an eyebrow. Almost. Just because he no longer wore the damn thing on his sleeve or on the breast of his jacket didn't mean he wasn't wearing it—after all, how did they know if he was wearing it on his back? It wasn't as if they were looking there… Though, to be fair, he truly wasn't wearing the Uchiwa fan emblem.

Besides, the question, from what Obito could tell, wasn't so much about the proud insignia itself so much as the reason behind his not wearing it—he could hear the underlying words of, 'why have you not begged to join the clan, yet?'

He sighed, already feeling drained from the encounter. "Because I don't want to be your pawn."

Cranky's eye twitched, but before he could reply, the elder on the right (now dubbed vapid-idiot) interjected with his own words. "Pawn…? No, you are mistaken, Obito-kun." The raven shivered at the honorific. "The Uchiha blood runs strong in you, something proven by the fact that you have a fully matured Sharingan. It is because of this achievement that you are a full-fledged Uchiha, and that you should be recognized as such."

"That's what I said," Obito stated exasperatedly. "I'm a pawn, a tool, and a particularly powerful one because I've 'proven my worth' in your eyes. I'm saying I don't want to be involved in that."

Vapid-idiot shook his head in a near-vexed manner. As though dealing with a particularly stubborn, unreasonable child. "I understand that you are still a child in both mind and body, but you must realize that you are thinking with a narrowed, innocent view." The time traveler repressed a snort. Cranky must've noticed, because his eyes narrowed imperceptibly, through the sagging folds of his pasty skin. "You are a Chūnin and have a fully matured Sharingan, and as such, you must act accordingly as well. You are wanted back in the clan because that is where you belong, with your family and people that can help you understand the power that is held within your eyes—"

"Oh?" Obito asked, inwardly thinking that he was already a master of his Kamui eyes, and that it was likely that the clan wouldn't even know the first thing to do regarding his Mangekyō. "My family? And where was the clan, then, all these years?"

Cranky scowled. "Blood is thicker than water, even with the separation of time. And do not speak back to your elders, boy. Know that you do not stand on equal ground as us, as your ego and lack of decorum likely makes you assume. You should be happy that the clan is willing to have you reintegrated to join with our prestige."

Uchiha Obito may've been a bit of a problem child when he was younger. He was ignorant, he was prideful (though not to a harmful degree) and he did indeed lack the Uchiha "decorum." However, let it not be said that he was ever a particularly poor judge of character, because even at that age, he knew to avoid his clan's elders like the plague.

He spun on his heel and began walking towards his house, sensing the way cranky bristled slightly, and vapid-idiot looked on disapprovingly. He turned when he was a comfortable distance from them, a powerful glare in place.

Let it also not be said the Uchiha Obito didn't know how to hold grudges. He was feeling especially spiteful, at the moment.

"This power-play is nothing but a bunch of bullshit, your pride is nothing but bullshit, and your brains have clearly melted into mush from years of roasting in your stubborn idiocy. I only have respect for three… No, four people in this clan, and I can guarantee that you two aren't amongst them."

And then, he Shunshin'd away.

… He may or may not have activated his Sharingan in the middle of his small rant, but that mattered little to him. What mattered was the indignant, insulted, and obvious look of injured-pride that had taken residence in their eyes, and Obito took a sort of sadistic pleasure in seeing it.

The Uchiha clan respected power. If, what it took, was a blatant display of unwillingness to conform to their outdated ideals, coupled with his own strength, Obito was more than happy to oblige.

After all, he could acquiesce to the truth of one of the things cranky had said—he was still an Uchiha.

And what was an Uchiha without blind power?

Uchiha Fugaku was… Shocked. It was the best word that described his current state, with the varying levels of disbelief, horror, and strange—not to mention misplaced—pride that he felt.

When he had walked out of his study with the intention of discussing Itachi's progress with Obito, he hadn't exactly expected to see the boy being… Hazed, by two of the Uchiha clan's most disagreeable Elders.

When Uchiha Daisuke and Uchiha Jirou began their demeaning remarks in a poor attempt to make Obito feel privileged, or at the very least obliged to join the Uchiha clan, the current clan head had expected the young thirteen-year-old to run away. Perhaps shout a few obscenities, if he was feeling particularly empowered, but then run off to avoid any resulting fallout. Even though Obito had shown potential with his training of Itachi and was clearly more than what Fugaku had once thought of him, the man had still expected the black sheep to behave as the politically-ignorant young boy he was.

He hadn't expected Obito to actually trade blows with the Elders.

Fugaku had noticed the small, calculating glint in the boy's eyes, the way he measured the Elders and caught on to the small jabs at his current status with the clan. Obito had even returned them—"I'm a pawn, a tool, and a particularly powerful one because I've 'proven my worth' in your eyes. I'm saying I don't want to be involved in that."—He knew what their aim was, to elevate the Uchiha clan even more, that they had measured his worth and deemed him an asset.

It certainly wasn't something too surprising (what the elders were attempting to do, that is) and was a common practice amongst the noble clans of Konoha. It was a normal, if not unfortunate, consequence of being labeled a clan, where status meant near everything, because status meant political power. And within the Uchiha clan, every power was sought after in their society. But still, a child wouldn't, shouldn't be able to pick up on the minute intricacies of such a political endeavor, especially not one that was essentially removed from everything.

So yes. Fugaku was surprised by the gall Obito had to reply to the Elders in such an abrasive manner… But he was also pleasantly surprised.

He had chosen his son's tutor well.

After Obito left, leaving the dumbfounded and weakened Elders, Fugaku stepped out of his house and decided to make himself known. "Daisuke-san, Jirou-san."

The two, who had just managed to regain themselves and were steadily growing in irritation, just managed to wipe away their indignation before turning to Fugaku with forced looks—Daisuke had a plastered on smile, whereas Jirou's countenance was as stern and placid as it was old and weary. "Fugaku-sama. To what do we owe the pleasure?"

The clan head raised an eyebrow. "… You are standing in front of my house."

Daisuke blinked a few times before resuming his feigned smile. "… Why, yes. Yes we are."

"I happened to overhear your conversation with Uchiha Obito," Fugaku began, and the masks the two Elders had donned immediately crumbled. Jirou grew red-faced with barely concealed anger, and Daisuke's eyes went frigid. "I need not ask, for I know, but I would like to hear what you believe you were attempting—what exactly were you trying to accomplish?"

"That boy," Jirou growled in a rough but reined in tone, "needs to understand his placement. He has an obligation to this clan, and should feel—"

Fugaku silenced them with a raised hand, his eyes narrowed with promise. "The two of you will cease this foolish behavior, immediately."

For a moment, silence reigned.

Jirou was the first to snap. "That boy is an Uchiha," he hissed quietly. "It is in his blood, and those eyes of his belong to the clan. He has an obligation—"

"You speak of obligations," Fugaku stated quietly, folding his arms under the sleeves of his kimono. "… And yet, before my appointment to this position, you were the ones that had ignored him. Did the clan not have an obligation to him as well, considering his blood?"

"It was our mistake, and we can admit to as much." Daisuke cut in before Fugaku could continue, before Jirou could grow more incensed. "A mistake, a miscalculation. One that we intend on rectifying, that we are attempting to fix." He stared at Fugaku with a hard glint. "The boy had been determined as an invalid, that he would never activate his Sharingan, but that changed the moment he not only achieved it, but advanced it to the third stage. You know as well as we do that our clan's dōjutsu is under constant threat and is sought after by many enemies, some within the village. The Sharingan is the Uchiha's, and the boy must be placed under protection."

Fugaku knew that the Elder's words were true enough, but to say it was for the boy's protection…? He might've laughed. It was more for protecting the clan's treasured eyes, and they would sooner kill the boy and burn his Sharingan than allow an enemy to gain them. "Protection? Or observation? Preservation?"

"Fugaku, you will show the respect that we deserve," Jirou hissed angrily, eyeing the clan head. "You seem to forget that though you may be clan head—a fact that has gotten to your head, it seems—you can still be removed just as easily if you prove to be unfit for the position. You wouldn't have your position if we did not wish you to be there, and you should be grateful."

"Obligation, debt, gratitude," Fugaku stated quietly, his eyes spinning. "The moment you chose me as the clan head was the moment you lost your uncontested power. You seem to forget that, while you are the council and allowed to make suggestions, I am, at the moment, still the acting head of the Uchiha clan. And you will act as such." He narrowed his eyes at the Elders. "Unless Uchiha Obito wishes to be placed back in the Uchiha clan, he will not be—coerced or otherwise."

Both Elders scowled, and Jirou opened his mouth to speak—before Daisuke placed a hand on his shoulder, and he quieted with bristling resignation. "… Of course, Fugaku-sama."

The words were spoken with barely concealed condemnation, but Fugaku nodded anyway. The two walked away, and when they were out of eyesight, the clan head allowed his eyes to deactivate and entered his house with a scowl.

The clan was being far too possessive for his liking. That, added with the fact that many of the Elders were acting even more uncooperative than before worried him to a disturbing degree. All of this, they were signs, something that Fugaku, as the clan head, had to deal with.

The Elders were growing with discontent, and becoming almost unreasonable. The previous confrontation was evidence enough; before, they had at least some semblance of reason, and despite being stubborn and prideful, had known that there were certain boundaries that were to be left undisturbed.

Fugaku's eyes narrowed as his thoughts trailed to a certain Konoha Elder.

… It likely didn't help that that man's claws were steadily sinking further and further into the political workings of the Uchiha.

Bleeding into their workings, like the poisonous roots of a parasitic plant.

Obito sat in a tree situated above the Hokage Monument, staring into the almost empty vial that once held the Senju cells.

It was with a certain anticipation and dread that he regarded the last few drops. Using the last of the mixture would mean that the treatment was done—that he might either have the boost he needed along with the Mokuton…

Or he might not.

Throughout the treatment, he had refrained from testing the effectiveness for three reasons. The less pragmatic reason was that he didn't want to worry over his progress, all the while; he preferred the idea of completing the treatment and either finding that it worked, or didn't. The other two were more logical and held true explanations that were not entirely subjective. He might've been able to use Mokuton for a period of time, but in exchange would have exhausted the chakra and lost the ability altogether. The point of this wasn't for a small, temporary boost, but for a permanent ability and lessened strain from his Mangekyō. It was also highly likely that if he attempted to use the Mokuton while the special chakra had yet to conform to his chakra system, that it would've ended up recognizing him as a foreign entity and turned him into a tree.

Whatever was the case, this was it. The deciding factor. Would he be able to use Mokuton after this? Would he be able to use his Mangekyō without fear of losing his sight?

With a steadying breath, Obito released some chakra from his hands and concentrated it on the sparse liquid. This was how the treatment worked and it was what he had been doing for the past handful of weeks—the purpose of introducing his own chakra to the concoction was to treat it and familiarize it with his own, so that, when introduced to him, it would not react violently. Madara had once explained it to him, and he hadn't fully understood it at the time even with the original Tobi's help.

The only reason (or, reasons) why the cells hadn't reacted negatively to him was because his own chakra system had been heavily damaged due to missing half of his body. He also had half of the Hashirama clone's body, which made it easier to integrate the actual chakra into his own, and with the help of Tobi and Zetsu, it had been a simple, if time consuming, process.

This time, he didn't have time. He didn't have an endless supply of the cells, either, but a complete body, he did. Even if his current body was unfamiliar with the substance, he was, and knew how to curb its more volatile tendencies.

After a few minutes of tempering the concoction, Obito released the cork and slid his hand into his kunai pouch to withdraw the knife. He cut along the soft flesh of his left arm, watching as blood beaded in small droplets along the thin incision. With a slightly unsteady hand, he tilted the vial and watched as the sparse droplets slid to the mouth.

There was a reason why this treatment was introduced intravenously as opposed through ingestion. Blood vessels ran most similarly to the chakra network, and it was easier (not to mention safer and faster) to allow one's respiratory system to do the work of transporting even measurements of the potent chakra to each of the tenketsu points with a lessened risk. It wasn't injected, either, for the forceful introduction would serve as an attack to his body.

Obito watched as the concoction dripped onto the open wound and quickly sealed up the cut with a weak healing jutsu. He… Felt no different than he had a minute ago, but that was to be expected. The changes, if any, were minor and had been made over the course of time. The true question, now…

He searched within himself, finding the familiar flicker of Mokuton chakra. It was sparse, but… There.

With a breath, he stood up as he reached for the chakra and held his hand up in a Ram seal. "Mokuton: Sashiki no Jutsu."

One second passed. Five seconds. Ten. Thirty.

… One minute.

A loud crack split through the air as Obito slammed a clenched fist into the tree he stood on, easily splintering the wood from the impact. "… Damnit," he cursed, frustration bubbling up.

The treatment hadn't worked.

He couldn't use Mokuton.

There was little he could do about that, and even though it was an idea he liked to entertain that with the Six Paths Sage Chakra he'd be able to use the blood limit… That was still just a sparse hope. There was still a likely chance the Kyūbi wouldn't fulfill his end of the bargain. And even then, what did Obito know about the legendary chakra? After observing Naruto and the bijū, it was an assumption that it was all connected, that he could use it to kickstart whatever latent Senju cells he had to activate the Mokuton.

He was almost afraid to attempt to use his Kamui. What if that didn't work, either? What if he had rushed it?

The Uchiha scowled.

Then he'd just make do.

He glanced around himself, scanning for presences. When he confirmed he was well and truly alone, he sent a flicker of chakra through his body. His eyes bled to red, and swirled until the three tomoe formed the familiar pinwheel pattern of his Mangekyō Sharingan. Without stopping to contemplate the fact that the activation hadn't left him with a head-splitting headache, he activated his Kamui.

He blinked, when he found himself in a familiar gray, geometrical dimension. He blinked again, when he lifted a hand to wipe away from his face. When his hand came away, he stared…

At the pale, unblemished skin.

"… Heh." The corners of his mouth lifted. "… Heh…Ha…Haha!"

A vicious grin lit his features as he leapt across his dimension with practiced ease, landing next to a folded piece of paper. With unrestrained speed, he went through the basic handseals before calling out, "Katon: Gōkakyū no Jutsu!"

The innocent parchment, containing his notes on the future events, was incinerated before his eyes from the excessive technique. He didn't stop to regard it, and quickly switched on his heel and leapt, feeling the familiar and smooth shift of dimensions that he had yearned for. When he landed, he was no longer in his dimension but back where he had been in Konoha, atop the Hokage Monument surrounded by trees. He walked up to a tree, holding a hesitant hand out, and sighing when he could feel it.

A few seconds passed.

And then, he leapt through the tree, not even needing to reign in his chakra signature as he relished the intangibility, his eyes' greatest power.

He… Couldn't use the Mokuton. That was a grave fact that could not be ignored, and he knew he would be at a slight disadvantage without it. But, now, it wasn't so important, and he allowed himself the hope he hadn't before—if the Kyūbi came through on his end… Hypothetically, the introduction of residual and diluted Six Paths Sage Chakra should be enough to at least activate the dormant Mokuton chakra, that Obito could still feel thrumming beneath his own. And if not that, there was still the hope of awakening the Rinnegan.

Regarding his Kamui, it appeared he still had similar limitations as before. He still could not use his intangibility in conjunction with teleportation (though the cool down time was now reduced to two-three seconds) but…

He was as capable as he was during the war, when he had both of his eyes.

Obito halted his mad-dash as he landed on top of the third head of the Hokage Monument, his grin threatening to split his face. He had his Kamui back. He was powerful. He could see, everything.

The Uchiha chuckled, staring off into the west with violently spinning eyes—eyes glinted with the smallest traces of insanity.

"The snake's usefulness has expired."

A/N: I am well-aware of my supreme bull-shitting (hopefully it's somewhat convincing, though?) regarding the Senju cell treatment, but I had to wrap this up. Besides, this isn't the first time I've had to pull something out of my metaphorical arse. I had another, more plausible method of Obito going about this, but I doubt that you guys wanted me to drag all of this any longer than I have. Besides, things finally go down next chapter. :D