A/N: Do you guys actually want to see the conversation between Kurama and Kushina? I guess I can write it up and post is somewhere if you guys want, but I honestly didn't think you guys would want to see that conversation. Also, there is a silly/stupid Omake on my Ao3 (same handle) that my friend requested, if you want to read. It's under "To Be Lost on the Road of Life - Omake and Extras," the third chapter. (The Omake from chapters twelve and fifteen are respectively chapters 1 and 2 on Ao3) Word count is ~8.7k.

Rating: T

Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.

Chapter 30 - Full Circle

The Gedo Mazo.

It was the key so to speak, even more so than the tailed beasts, in Madara and Black Zetsu's plans.

For even without the tailed beasts themselves, it was possible to revive the Jūbi with the presence of a few and the chakra of the rest—at least, until the beast captured the remaining bijū itself. Whereas having the tailed beasts alone would do nothing (aside from result in a headache of epic proportions to keep them detained), having the Jūbi's husk was everything.

With a single technique, not only would Obito remove the key to the world's end, but he would be severing Madara's lifeline. A single technique, and one of the world's greatest threats would be dealt with indefinitely, while the other would be delayed greatly.

And yet, Obito still had one last thing to make sure of.

With a calm he didn't quite feel, the Uchiha placed his hand on the gnarled surface of the statue, his eye boring a hole into it's affixed spot. He drew a steadying breath before focusing, honing his chakra and sense to the husk before him.

Obito could not say it enough. He was no sensor, never was, and would never be cut out for the position no matter how much he tried to hone his senses. His minor sensing ability was only slightly greater than that of the average Jōnin, and that was due to the nature chakra that swelled within him.

And yet, as he probed the shell with his chakra and strained his senses, he knew that the chakra he was looking for was absent. That void-like, all-encompassing, almost suffocating chakra that he had felt during the Fourth Shinobi War was not there.

Black Zetsu was not within the statue.

Obito abruptly severed the connection with a sour grimace. He had been right in his earlier assumption, then—Black Zetsu could and had exited whenever he wished. Clearly not to Madara's knowledge, for the man had been convinced that Black Zetsu was his will when he introduced the being to Obito prior to his death.

But what did it mean for the past? The future? Neither Obito or Madara actually knew of the shadow's true motives until it was too late; had Black Zetsu been absent at this point before? Had there been a time before Obito was "rescued," that Madara had been unable to "create" the Zetsu clones? Or had something he had done in the current timeline changed this?

Shaking his head, Obito ignored the faint thrum of confusion (hope?) within him that left him reeling. Instead, he refocused his thoughts outwards and his chakra shifted to accommodate his morphed eye. He held his chakra tightly reined as he used it on the statue, but this time, for a different purpose. Slowly, agonizingly so, the faint lines of distortion appeared as the Gedo Mazo was being transported. It twisted and shifted, swirling into the focal point where Obito's eye was transfixed. It took herculean effort to accomplish on such a large object with depleted chakra stores, but with a final push the statue finally twisted out of existence.

'… There,' he thought quietly as he steadied his breaths, slightly winded. He blinked back the dryness of his eye and fought against the encroaching headache. 'Even if I don't make it out of here, their plans will be delayed greatly.'

It was a true enough statement. As it stood, only three people in existence could summon or retrieve the Gedo Mazo, one being Obito himself. Unless he left remains for Black Zetsu to come back and identify, his identity would be safe—therefore meaning that Kakashi, who held his other eye (and one of the methods of regaining the statue) was safe as well, especially since he likely wouldn't realize the full extent of the gift until later on in life. Never, Obito would hope, because gaining the Mangekyō would consequently mean the loss of someone important to the both of them, again.

On the other hand, the only remaining method (and the one that Black Zetsu would be most likely to attempt) would be through Nagato. While Obito was unsure if his words would be fully taken to heart, the Ame trio were no fools—they would likely recognize a manipulator with unsavory goals from the moment they met. At the very least, Obito had done all he could to warn them about the Rinnegan's coveters and ensure their safety, if only because he himself had come off as a suspicious individual in their eyes.

… If anything, if he even managed to evolve it, Sasuke would be the most worrying, for he cared little for manipulators and morals, so long as it suited his own gains. While Obito would like to think that the Uchiha Massacre was what created the boy shrouded in darkness that he had seen, he couldn't say that with certainty. Not to mention, he had done nothing (or at the most, very little) to try and prevent the massacre. It was too far into the future for him to accurately judge the outcome, even in the case that Minato did not die at Naruto's birth.

The thought made a small, rueful smile form underneath his mask. He had broken many promises before, but somehow, being unable to fulfill Kurama's—being unable to reunite the fox and his only true friend, the Child of Prophecy, Naruto—left a bitter taste that weighed with more guilt than previous unfulfilled vows.

But he had little doubt that they would be reunited regardless. Not by his hand, perhaps, but Kurama would take matters into his own hands (claws?) most likely, and inform Kushina about the future as Obito had advised. Even if they were hesitant in the beginning, he had a feeling that the fox would manage to strong arm Minato and Kushina into transferring him to Naruto, someway or another.

His thoughts were disrupted as a gravelly voice, rough from lack of use, called out to address him.

"Who are you?"

It was time.

Slowly, with a strange, almost eerie calm, Obito turned around.

Kushina stared up at the fox with an inscrutable expression.

Kurama merely stared back, waiting for a response of any kind or sort. It was strange seeing the usually boisterous redhead so… Blank.

"… So the world was threatened by Obito, who was manipulated by Madara," she finally began, her voice toneless.

Kurama nodded, eyeing the redheaded woman.

"And… Obito only realized that he was wrong during the fourth war because of a blond boy that happened to be the Child of Prophecy."

He lifted an eyebrow, and nodded, again.

"…Madara was betrayed by some shadow thing that resurrected the Kaguya bitch that Obito and Minato talked about."

Kurama's eye twitched.

"…. And Obito died and was sent to the past."

He sent her a deadpan stare.

"… And now, he is probably on some self-assigned suicide mission to kill Madara, and—"

"Yes, for the last time, yes," Kurama groaned irritably, glaring at the woman.

Kushina suddenly stirred from her daze as she scowled, face almost as red as her hair in fury. "What the HELL, dattebane!? You should have told me this sooner! We have to go stop him!"

She closed her eyes and tried to focus her mind to the outer world, but blinked when her surroundings did not shift. She was still ankle-deep in water, standing in front of a fox. Kushina sent a potent glare at said fox that promised absolute pain, regardless of the receiver.

"Why can't I leave?" She questioned, eyes accusing. "Did you do something?"

Kurama snorted, watching the woman with equal amusement and irritation. "Yes, I did. You aren't leaving while you're likely to cause trouble."

His words only caused her glare to deepen, and she fumed angrily. "Let. Me. GO! You can't do this, you can't make me abandon him like this! The idiot—you can't just—I need to go smack some sense into that idiotic—I'm going to kick your furry ass if you don't—just—GAH!" She fisted her hands in her hair and tugged angrily unsure of what to do with herself. "How are you—how can you do this, anyway!? This seal isn't supposed to give you any freedom like this!"

Kurama only gave a bored yawn as he gently settled his paw over the incensed woman so as to keep her restrained but unharmed. He easily ignored her colorful blasphemes and threats to his genitals with the ease of a veteran.

"The moment I arrived here, your seal burst," he informed her with a sly, toothy grin, causing her to freeze abruptly. "As in, while I am contained, it is merely because I wish it. Our forced 'bond' broke the moment I became the fox in your seal."

He watched as realization and abject horror dawned on her face, before slowly shifting to speculation and confusion.

"… Why didn't you leave, then?"

Her tone was almost innocent and childlike, and Kurama had to repress a snort at the similarities between mother and son. "Because, even if our bond had broken, my removal would have been detrimental to the both of us." His grin widened, showing his gleaming rows of teeth larger than her. "I have no intention of wiping my future Jinchūriki from existence before getting to meet him again."

Kushina looked down at the claw that trapped her, absentmindedly gazing at the copper fur that bristled with energy. "… You really care for him, dattebane. Your future Jinchūriki."

"Yes." His answer held no hesitation.

The redhead looked back up, irritation still obvious in her features, but softer. "But what does that have to do with me? Is it so you aren't recaptured before he is born?" She shook her head in exasperation. "Look, me going out there to save Obito isn't going to threaten you personally, so let me go."

The fox stared at her for a disbelieving moment before mumbling, "… Kami save us, it's hereditary."

Kushina huffed. "Whatever. Just let me go."

"Trust your Blondaime," the fox said resignedly, wishing the human would just cooperate. "It's all we can do at this poin—"

"Why?" She interrupted, gaze accusing. "Why is it all we can do, when there is actually so much that we can do to help—"

"If you haven't noticed, my forcefully dragging you into your mind-scape isn't exactly healthy for you. At the moment, you are unconscious in the real world, and have been or a while. There's nothing you can do without injuring yourself in the process." He sighed irritably. "My priority is your wellbeing, and I will not let you jeopardize that just because you're naturally a compulsive idiot."

She sent a harsh glare up at the millennia-old being. "Again, why!? What does my health, of all things, have to do with anything!?"

Kurama sent his own glare back, patience spent. "Maybe because your future son is the Child of Prophecy and my future Jinchūriki, woman!"

Kushina froze mid-retort, staring up at the fox with disbelief and shock written on her face. Slowly, she sunk down to the shallow waters, her mouth agape and a dazed look in her violet eyes.

She blinked. "… My son is your Jinchūriki. My son… Is…?"

Recollection of a past conversation with the fox sprung forth, in the presence of her husband and Jiraiya. The Kyūbi had said that he wanted their child…

She jumped up and pointed at the fox with a gleam of realization shining in her violet eyes. "THAT'S what you meant, dattebane!"

Kurama simply rolled his eyes, cradling his head as he fought back a stupidity-induced migraine.

"… Why do I have a penchant for the idiots."

As Obito observed the man, he realized that his calm was not feigned or forced.

He knew, from his own future past, that the only thing that had been keeping Madara alive was the Gedo Mazo. From where he stood, he could see the severed cables trailing behind his ancestor, and they both knew that his demise was fast approaching.

And yet, being Uchiha Madara, he showed not a hint of the panic that should have been present.

Obito's mindset shifted as he realized that the man was still waiting for an answer. He waved his hands giddily and grinned beneath his mask, though the expression was unseen.

"Hi, hi! I'm Tobi, nice to meet you! You can also call me Madara if ya want," he stated cheerfully, arms gesticulating randomly to convey boundless energy. He paused abruptly, tilting his head to the side. "… Actually, that might be confusing, huh?"

He watched as Madara's eyes narrowed. "… Your words are nothing more than lies with false airs. I ask again: who are you?"

Tobi tapped his masked chin in consideration. "Hmm, y'know, that's a reeeaaallly good question, in a weird mind-stuff way. But Tobi isn't lying!" He threw his arms up in the air in an exaggerated, open motion. "I'm the lovable and amazing Tobi, super-powerful ninja extraordinaire with all the whoosh and booms in the background!" Colorful paper scraps fluttered to the ground at his declaration, though Madara remained unmoved and unimpressed. Tobi chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his neck with a sheepishness he hadn't shown before. "… But I guess that doesn't really answer your question, huh? Tobi may be happy and silly but he can still tell that his answer wasn't good. Hehe, oops, Tobi is sorry."

His demeanor shifted once again, reverting back to boisterous cheer. "Oh, but hey! I have a question! Can you make the weird white things? Tobi saw a bunch on the way in and they felt like nature and stuff! I wonder how you make them? Why do you seem constipated, huh? It's the cave isn't it? Sun is very important for the health, y'know! Oh, and you look like you're about to die, jijii." He leaned forward to examine the silent Madara, his left hand on his hip as he rubbed the chin of his mask contemplatively.

He straightened as he threw his two hands in a mock-celebratory fashion. "Yeah. Yeah, definitely! Tobi probably doesn't even need to do anything!"

Madara's eyes narrowed as the decrepit man essentially growled, patience spent. "Enough of this tomfoolery. Tell me who you are and your purpose here, now, or you will die."

Tobi sighed dramatically. Inwardly, Obito had been cataloguing each minor reaction from the old man, and the breaking point had been the mention of the clones, meaning that Obito had his answer: Madara couldn't make more. Even if his time spent with the elder was minimal, he still knew enough about the man's telling signs to emulate him in the future past. It only further confirmed the lack of Black Zetsu's presence… But why? Why was he not here, when he was there last time? Or, maybe, had there been a time in his past where Madara could not create the clones?

He hummed nonchalantly as he eyed Madara, his thoughts considering. The new revelation called for a change of plans.

Considering the man's physical state and the fact that his only lifeline had already been severed, Obito really only needed to stall (as he was) until Madara died from natural causes. And even if he couldn't exactly go back to Konoha as it was, he certainly had more tasks to handle—specifically, tracking down Black Zetsu. It hadn't been in his original plans, but originally, he had expected the shadowed being to remain within the statue.

And maybe, just maybe, he could return to Konoha.

Not immediately, of course. And not until he eliminated the threats that he knew existed. Ensuring Konoha's safety (and subsequently the safety of his team) was his priority, and he couldn't allow himself to forget that.

But once all was said and done, he could return to Konoha.

He could return home.

"Don't," he warned with contrasting cheer, his Tobi persona in place. He tilted his head at the now-frozen Zetsu clones that hid in the shadows but his eye remained fixed on Madara. "Trying to escape won't work, y'know, and those pasty things can't help you."

Madara regarded Tobi warily, showing only the barest unease. "… What is your aim?"

"I'll answer you in a couple minutes," Tobi replied simply with a shrug. But his lone eye narrowed as he observed the line of his ancestor's shoulders, monitored the man's even breathing. His face, while of a sickly pallor, was no worse than when he had first appeared.

Doubt twisted in his gut as he came to a realization.

Madara wasn't dying.

"… You're not dead, Jijii," he stated with a lightness he did not feel.

He watched as Madara shifted to an easier stance, his eyes narrowed. "… You expected otherwise." It was not a question.

Tobi remained silent for a moment, considering, before nodding imperceptibly. "… You are very, very old. Tobi is not stupid, not really. That weird statue thing was the only thing keeping you alive!" He shook his head and huffed petulantly. "You really shouldn't be anymore, y'know. And it's weird."

"… We are at an impasse, then. But not for long." Tobi lifted an eyebrow at the surety of the statement, but his eye remained transfixed to the arm that had shifted. Madara slowly lifted his hand with his palm upturned, and for a moment, Obito wasn't certain what the man's aim was.

But then, his eye caught the sight of two, glowing yellow orbs within the darkness, and his world froze.

It was there. It was there. Right there, within the shade of Madara's sleeve, were hauntingly yellow orbs that he recognized.

Black Zetsu.

Obito paled beneath his mask as he fought to keep his composure. Black Zetsu was there, and he realized what that meant. The shadowed being was keeping Madara alive as he had kept Obito alive once, meaning that if it didn't want Madara to die—then he wouldn't.

A chance. Obito realized that, not only did he have to make sure that all of the White Zetsu there were obliterated, but now he also had a chance to rid the world of Black Zetsu. Of Kaguya, conversely, if he managed to successfully detain or destroy the being.

At the palpable disappointment that resulted from the realization, Obito mentally berated himself. This was a good thing. Even if it meant that he would likely have to go with his original plan, it wasn't as if he had expected any different. No, he had entered without the expectation of returning home, with the very real expectation of this place being his grave, and with this second shift he was merely returning to the original plan.

"This," Madara stated coolly, glancing to the sleeve where Black Zetsu resided, "is the embodiment of my will. And my will is to remain alive, to see the fruition of my plans. I have no time for the likes of you." His eyes narrowed into threatening slits as he glared at Obito. "You will return the statue that you erroneously stole."

Three worn figures stumbled into a clearing in a flash, disturbing the calm reverie of the forest.

"Kakashi," Minato turned to his silver-haired student, who snapped to attention. "Search for trails with your pack around the vicinity."

The silver-haired Jōnin nodded briefly before going through the familiar motions of the summoning jutsu. His ninken appeared in a plume of smoke, and after a brief explanation, the boy and his pack dispersed in opposing directions.

Minato turned to his remaining student who looked up at him with hopeful eyes. "For now, stay back, Rin."

She stiffened. "… But there has to be something I can do." Her chocolate brown eyes glanced to the collapsed cave for a moment as she inhaled a steadying breath. "We still need to check to see if Obito is even there, right? Tsunade-shishō prepared me for this kind of thing. I can help clear the rubble. I can help. I can—"

"No," Minato intoned, his voice quickly turning gentle at Rin's defensive posture. "… You're right. There is something that you can do. But just let me check, okay?"

Rin shook her head. "But—"

"You'll need to save your chakra."

The brunette went deathly quiet, and Minato disappeared from her side. She silently watched as he gave a quick chakra scan of the vicinity, before getting to work clearing the rubble. Her mind was focused on his words, understanding the implications.

She needed to save her chakra. Whether it was in the case that Minato uncovered their teammate's very dead body under the rubble or they found a trail and therefore found Obito, alive, she would need to save her chakra. For healing or an autopsy, a preservation jutsu—either were possible.

Rin flinched as Minato slowly made his way closer and closer to the bottom of the wreckage, a worrisome anxiety eating at her. She bit her lip as her head dipped, her hands fisting into the material of her skirt. He would either find Obito, dead, or find nothing. It was as simple as that. But the wait for the morbid reveal was horrifying. The inevitable.

It never came.

"Minato-sensei!" Both Rin and Minato turned to the familiar voice, alert and prepared for an attack. Kakashi stumbled into the clearing with his only visible eye wide, clearly gasping for air. "I—Pakkun, he f-found…"

Minato shunshin'd over to his students as Rin's heart leapt to her throat.

Kakashi shook his head, grasping at composure before looking back at Minato and Rin. And his eye betrayed the faintest glimmer of excitement.

Of hope.

"He found Obito's trail!"

Minato's eyes hardened. "What direction?"

"Northeastward. They're waiting for us over there."

"Let's go."

Both Rin and Kakashi stumbled to chase after their sensei, who had immediately darted off with a speed they had only seen on the battlefield. Technically they were, and the three of them were on a mission that decided their teammate's fate.

Not a word was exchanged, but their goal was shared and understood.

Madara observed the strange masked individual with narrowed eyes.

It had certainly been an unexpected oddity when the being known as "Black Zetsu" revealed itself to him prior to his current dilemma. Alarm and tension, however veiled, were his immediate reaction to the strange darkened figure. The shadowed being seemed to sense this, and revealed it's origin's without preamble.

"I am the physical manifestation, the embodiment, of your will," it had said in a dry, toneless reverberation that suited the inhuman creature. Madara had been far from convinced by the being's proclamation, and when a few of his Zetsu creations sought to verify the shadow's statement, he had been far from pleased. Suspicion nagged at the back of his mind, telling him that something had gone gravely wrong and that he was not quite as secure as he had once thought.

The shadow then introduced itself, saying that it could be referred to as "Black Zetsu" for propriety's sake. It also stated it's intentions for suddenly revealing itself now, and not previously—it had emerged to warn Madara, apparently having sensed a very powerful chakra several kilometers out from the base.

The explanation seemed plausible, but the Uchiha was still far from convinced. Even as he had stood in front of the shadow, surrounded by the Zetsu clones that suddenly set him on edge, he could feel the "presence" Black Zetsu was speaking of—had felt it's approach for a time already. He could admit that it felt different from the average, though not necessarily in power. Familiar, Madara almost wanted to say, similar to his own with the same sharp edge of honed steel and grave determination. Still, however powerful the presence was, Madara was convinced that it was merely a passing patrol at the most. War was still weighing heavily in the air surrounding the nations involved, after all, and his priority was judging Black Zetsu—figuring out whether or not the being was one to be trusted. For as much as Madara believed it possible for the Gedo Mazo to physically manifest his will, this shadowed being seemed awfully independent for having just been conjured.

And yet, almost as soon as he had determined that the true threat was not the approaching chakra signature but Black Zetsu, it vanished. For such a presence, however concealed, to suddenly vanish mere kilometers from the base spoke clearly of the source's intentions, strength. And Madara had been forced to make a decision.

"What is it that you have planned?" he had questioned the being in a frigid, biting tone. "If you deem this approaching presence such a threat and thought it prudent to reveal yourself to me, you must have a more plausible reason beyond mere pleasantries."

Black Zetsu had gone quiet, considering. Then, it stated that it had the ability to prolong the life of those it bonded to—a precaution, the shadow had called it. For considering the presence that promised power and the clear intent of the individual, the army of Zetsu clones would not be enough. Madara himself would need to be mobile. Remaining dependent on the Gedo Mazo would only result in death for him, the shadow had stated with bland yet sure conviction. Madara had been skeptical.

But Black Zetsu had been right.

Madara silently admitted this as he glanced disdainfully at the severed cables that once connected him to the Gedo Mazo. Black Zetsu had taken the necessary precautions needed, and had it not been for the shadowy being he would most certainly have been dead.

And yet, the fact remained that he was at the masked individual's mercy. Though he was likely a mere ant to Madara in his prime, the fact was that he was no longer in any shape for true battle. While he had no illusions that he was, at the moment, as powerful as he once was, if what Black Zetsu had told him was true he should be able to force the interloper to return the statue.

And in the event he wasn't able to, it was merely a matter of escaping and biding his time once more, wherein he could track down his true eyes or find an avatar to handle the task for him.

But he knew nothing about this interloper, aside from the fact that he was not one to be underestimated. Madara did not yet have a true grasp on the full extent of the individual's strength, and he simply was not the type to charge in recklessly without the appropriate information gathered.

Opening discussion would be the most likely method of regaining the Gedo Mazo, he realized. That in mind, he lifted his arm in what constituted as a peaceful, non-threatening gesture.

Or rather, attempted to. Because he came to the realization that he was immobilized… Completely.

His eyes glanced down at his arms, noting that he couldn't so much as twitch. "… What have you done?" He questioned tonelessly, correcting his earlier assumption. He was physically immobilized, but he was allowed speech and vision, it seemed.

A White Zetsu clone charged, tree-like appendages elongating, reaching towards the masked individual with the intent to pierce and kill. Madara watched as the man swiftly dodged the deadly brambles with the ease of a powerful shinobi, letting his hand brush against the wooden creature.

In a blink, the Zetsu's arms disappeared, and it stumbled at the sudden shift of momentum and equilibrium, the loss of weight. It continued charging, however, letting out an inhuman keen as the masked man reached out to grab the creature's head with an iron grip.

As quickly as before, the Zetsu clone twisted out of existence, leaving not a single trace of it's presence.

Silence permeated the dark corridors as the White Zetsu observed the man, near cowered (something that Madara couldn't quite wrap his head around; for he hadn't known the strange beings were capable of such an emotion as fear) as he casually clapped his hands together and straightened.

He tilted his head and waggled a finger. "You really shouldn't do that."

Madara's earlier irritation rose. He could not place the man before him, his strange mood swings and metaphors. The Uchiha was convinced the masked man was insane, or at least some variant of it—it would make sense, as most powerful shinobi were not without their mental cracks and skews. And yet, this man took it beyond that, with an intensity in both behaviors that he seemed to believe.

"What is your purpose here?" Madara threatened, repeating his earlier question. He wasn't about to allow himself to be absorbed into the interloper's mind games.

For a moment, the two of them simply stood where they were, and the Uchiha ancestor had the vague impression that the masked man just might turn and leave in a bout of capriciousness, interest in the current location gone. But he did no such thing, instead rocking on his heels in an infuriatingly child-like manner.

"Hmm… You see, I came here for a reason, a very good reason." He clapped his hands together, his arms held horizontally in front of him. "Because in story books, the good guys are supposed to win, y'know? And the bad guys are supposed to go away. Disappear."

Madara absentmindedly replied as he tested his limbs, only to find that he was still paralyzed. "Good? Bad? How oblique and rudimentary," he stated, a mocking tone laced in his words. "You are naive if you truly think and believe such drivel. The world isn't so simpl—"

"Oh, I think you'll find that it actually is, Madara."

The old man tensed imperceptibly. Tobi's voice had taken on an uncharacteristically low tone, far different from his previous cheerful lilt. And yet, that fact within itself wasn't what surprised Madara—he had already known that the man before him was a threat, however foolish a mask he wore, literal and figurative—but the vast shift from almost unassuming boy to this was unexpected, even to him.

Tobi's previous relaxed, flippant posture was now straightened, unreadable. Blank. "… There are the good, who fight and train to protect their loved ones, untouched by the cycle of hatred. Conversely, there are the bad, who aim to kill those loved ones, only furthering the progression of the damning cycle. I think you will find the concepts rather simple. Sure, there are no absolute truths, but to each individual… There are." His voice turned to a low growl. "To me, there are, and the moment you threatened the people I loved, you became the bad guy. My enemy."

Madara eyed the only opening on the orange mask, searching. "… And you fancy yourself to be 'good'?"

Tobi tapped his chin contemplatively, before shrugging simply. "Eh… I dunno, maybe. I guess so, yeah." He nodded to himself as though affirming his own answer.

The interloper's strange mood changes baffled Madara. One moment he was an idiotic jokester, the next he held the presence of a foe that could rival Madara himself, and just now he was something in-between—with the flippancy of the former, but without the childish, contrived lilt.

"You aim to kill me, most likely in a fit of vengeance. How can you consider that 'good'? Are you so blinded by your own ideals and false dreams that you cannot see the hypocrisy of your words?"

He had just barely been able to finish his statement before a searing pain in Madara's upper arm alerted him that something was wrong—when he looked, he had no arm.

"Do not talk to me about false dreams and hypocrisy, Madara," the masked being near-growled, yet another shift from what had been presented in the exchange. He calmed immediately, however, and the tense line of his shoulders relaxed. "… You want to know the truth, why my actions are not entirely that of a hypocrite? Killing you will not progress the cycle of hatred. There exists no one who would miss your presence here, and your death would in fact bring a much brighter future. You are dead, Madara, and your continued existence threatens the tentative peace of the world in ways you could not imagine."

"You picture me as the villain to further your own gains," Madara sneered, having had enough of the man's foolish ramblings. The conversation was going nowhere, and he could feel his paralysis waning. "You know nothing, you are simply a child of astonishing naïveté that—"

"Shut up."

He hadn't seen him move, even with his borrowed Sharingan activated. All Madara knew was that he was suddenly on the ground like a puppet whose strings were severed, gasping for air as his remaining hand clawed at the ground. Tobi walked over and kneeled, and Madara noticed for the first time that the man had the Sharingan. The Mangekyō.

(And failed to notice the absence of a certain shadowed being.)

"Let me tell you a story, Madara. A story about a foolish boy starved for attention, with a penchant for making mistakes." He stood up and took a step back, tilting his head upwards as he fell into his story. Madara could only stare up at the man, a fact that left him inwardly seething and disgusted.

"He graduated at the last of his class, considered the idiot of the year while his two teammates and sensei were the pride of the generation. He lived in their shadow constantly, and no level of determination and hard work seemed to measure up to his team's prowess. 'I won't give up,' he told himself every night he looked in the mirror, wearing a wan expression that he revealed to no one. 'I will become the best, no matter what.'"

Tobi tilted his head. "And to an extent, he did. He never gave up, he stuck to his morals, up to the point where he gave up his eye and his life to save his teammates. His teammates who he loved—one that had held his deepest affection since childhood, the other that held his respect and pride despite their rivalry. He had been content to die as it was, die as a hero that managed to do the right thing."

"But he had been offered a chance, a chance to go back and continue his life. He had taken it, gratefully, from his benefactor, a man he had grown to respect." Tobi paused for a moment, and when he resumed his voice was quiet, dangerous, expressing a darkness that made Madara narrow his eyes. "… The foolish boy had watched when she died. Watched, when his rival stabbed her, the girl he loved, watched as the life drained from her eyes. It was then that the foolish boy had realized that there was no other alternative, and he decided to take the path his benefactor provided, the path to the reality he wanted. For years after his benefactor died, he carried out his will from the shadows, silently vowing to bring back the girl he loved. Silently vowing to destroy this world that would force people to suffer such pains, such loss, to reconstruct an ideal world where peace was not a mere foolish dream. He had done all that he needed to do; he had killed, manipulated, betrayed, any and all that he managed to get his hands on, all for the purpose of his goal. Everything was going to plan, and his goal was close, he could almost feel it. People rebelled against the idea, of course, but it was simply a matter of erasing their useless existances in order to continue his plans."

Tobi trailed off as he crossed his arms, looking off to the side. "… But there was one boy. A blond boy, who had caught his eye. A blond boy that he had a connection with, one that could have been like family had he returned to his home. But he had a calling, he reasoned, and this was a fake world. There was no point in befriending those who belonged in a fake world. But time and time again, the foolish boy, man, would find himself encountering this blond boy, sometimes as an enemy, sometimes as a mere observer. He watched as the boy with a past similar to his own grew, never giving up, never turning to the darkness, even after losing his friend to the promise of power. Before long, the foolish man found his plans on the cusp of completion. The last hurdle that stood between his dream and himself was, ironically, the blond boy. And with the blond boy was the entire world, united against the foolish man as one, with a single purpose. It was ironically like the world that the foolish man wanted—and yet, it was a world he was not apart of."

"He had watched the blond boy, who had an upbringing not unlike his own, and a personality near identical. And yet, they had turned out so differently—for while the blond boy walked in the light and gathered the love and trust of many, the foolish man had no one. 'Why?' He couldn't help but wonder, as he gazed upon the millions that opposed him. 'Why had we ended up so differently? What had I done wrong?'"

Tobi's arms dropped, and his voice took on an almost nostalgic pained tone. "… The reason for our difference… It was actually quite simple."

Madara had managed to stand back up at this point, and he kept his gaze on the individual. Tobi suddenly turned to him, alertness clear in his presence and tone steely once again. "Let me tell you something that you yourself may not realize. I am one thing to you: I am Madara. For Madara is he who rejects the world. To you, I am not Uchiha Obito, who challenged Hatake Kakashi, yearned for Rin, and dreamt of becoming Hokage, who's power was false and resulted in the ultimate loss."

His tone became wistful, yearning. "… And yet, I reject that idea, that useless thought you have, because… I am. I am Uchiha Obito, the boy who challenged Hatake Kakashi, who yearned for Nohara Rin, who looked up to Namikaze Minato and Uzumaki Kushina, who zealously lived according to his ideals, and who dreamt of becoming Hokage."

"However, I am also Uchiha Obito, the man who defied the world, who lived as your shadow, who carried on your plans after your death, who went against the child of prophecy, and who defied you in the very end for what was truly important all along. I was never a savior, and I shouldn't have ever though myself as such, precisely because I am and always will be Uchiha Obito who walked the path of Uchiha Madara.

He lifted his hand a pointed at the aged Uchiha, his voice quiet but with an undercurrent of anger. "You, a fool who thinks himself as the savior of this world."

Obito allowed his hand to fall back to his side as he watched Madara, watched as the man's eyes betrayed far more than he had ever seen.

"… You… You say that I am the fool, but you are no better than I," the ancestor growled, gripping his bleeding stub. "You are just as 'evil' as I, and yet, you wish to proclaim yourself on the side of 'good'? You claim that you have honest intentions, that you changed in the end which therefore exempts your actions—"

Obito scoffed, cutting off the man's words. "I never explicitly said that, now, did I?"

Madara's eyes narrowed. "… What is your point?"

"Considering what history says about you, you aren't very sharp, huh? Analyze our conversation. I agreed and said that I wished to be good, but it's a blatant truth that I know better than anyone: I am not. If anything, I am the epitome of evil, an individual that can match you on that front." Obito grimaced. "… We are selfish, self-serving, delusional fools with a penchant for power. We are both what the world deigns as 'evil,' Madara."

The elder Uchiha shook his head. "Good, evil. Again, you cannot simply judge based on those two simple sides."

Obito glanced to the man, considering, before turning away with a sigh.

"… You had good intentions," he said quietly, and he noted the suspicion veiled on Madara's visage. "I can admit this much. I can also admit that much of my hatred towards you—if it can even be called that, at this point—is because of the similarities we shared. The similarities that happen to be attributes that I have and always will dislike about myself, attributes that can be seen in you so clearly."

He turned back to Madara, a hardened look displayed beneath his mask. "Did you know that you were not as in-control as you believed? Did you know that, once you completed your goals, an entity that you would have thought to be a manifestation of your own will would betray you?" His eyes darted to Madara's sleeve. "Black Zetsu—he is not your ally."

His eye narrowed in the darkness, expecting to see the yellow orbs of the shadow, and a faint thrum of panic surged through him at the absence of them. Panic quickly shifted to realization, however, and then bitter, wry humor.

He laughed.

"… What do you find humorous?" Madara questioned, inflection betraying nothing.

Obito gestured to the man's sleeve, still humored by the irony of the situation. "Black Zetsu, what you had stated to be your 'will', is gone. You will die a meaningless death, without the Gedo Mazo or Black Zetsu. He betrayed you, as he once did already. You are alone, just like always. Just like me." He eyed the still elder, wondering if the lack of visible surprise was truthful or merely a mask. "… But perhaps you expected that."

Madara did not reply, leaving the light accusation hanging in the air.

"You know about the Rikudō Sennin, right?" Obito asked curiously, changing topics. He didn't wait for a response before continuing. "His two sons, Indra and Asura. They were reincarnated into you and Hashirama, and then after your subsequent deaths, into the blond boy and his rival. Like your relationship with Hashirama, they were allies with a dangerous friendship, leading to an almost embittered rivalry. They constantly fought, and while it was merely innocent bickering in the beginning, multiple times one had been left near-dead after their confrontations."

The time traveler closed his eye for a brief moment. "Kaguya," he intoned quietly. "The mother of the Rikudō Sennin, the origin of power. In the face of her wrath, they were able to come to a truce, rekindle their friendship and look past the hatred and bitter past they held together." He opened his eye and stared at Madara. "I wasn't there to see it, but I'm almost certain that you had been redeemed. Your friend, your brother by souls… You had finally seen the truth to his words, in the end. Even if it took two deaths to convince you."

He felt the assessing stare of the elder, and though Madara's tone betrayed nothing, he knew that the other Uchiha had not completely brushed off his words. He entertained the thought that, despite the hints, perhaps his words were too abstract for the man to understand the implications. The thought disappeared with Madara's question. "… Why have you told me this?"

Obito smiled grimly. "I hate you, Madara, and that is something that will never change. People like us don't have the capacity to forgive unless we first forgive ourselves, and as a result, it won't change. But surely you of all people should know that the Uchiha clan's hatred is brought about through love. I respected you. You, who had managed to survive a fight that would have left normal men dead multiple times over. You, who had saved me from my own seemingly definite death. You, who had educated me on the past of our clan and village. You, who had, despite also tainting my vision and manipulating me for your own goals, allowed me to see past the idyllic visions given to children my age."

He trailed off as he considered his words, realized that he hadn't actually answered the question. 'Now what?' he thought silently, wondering at his hesitance.

Obito had and always would think of Madara in a light that was not—could not—be shared by others. Whether or not that view was a positive one, or one full of hatred, loathing and deceit, he didn't know. He realized that is was most likely both… No, he was certain of it. For with his tattered respect was also the betrayal he had felt when confronted with the man again.

He paused as he realized that he was taking a note from Naruto's methods. Acceptance. He didn't quite know why, if it was because he felt he ought to in homage to the chance the boy gave him. Or perhaps because, in some twisted manner, he was probably the only one currently alive that understood Madara to such a degree.

"If you think that you, a mere child, can sway my ideals," Madara cut in, interrupting the time traveler's thoughts, "then you are sorely mistaken."

Despite himself, Obito smiled. Madara was correct in a sense; perhaps he had been thinking he could sway the older man. But to what end? Madara was dying, and would be nothing more than a corpse by the end of the day. Obito would be lying if he said he hadn't expected the aged Uchiha to ignore the ramblings of a suspicious figure he did not know.

"I hadn't expected anything, really." Obito murmured, shaking his head as he resumed a colder, detached demeanor. He gathered his chakra, feeling it swell and roil beneath his skin as he prepared the definitive destruction of the vicinity. "But regardless, it doesn't matter anymore. This world has no need for two delusional madmen."

The White Zetsu fled, no doubt having sensed the encroaching danger. Madara, though free from the paralysis seal from earlier remained where he stood, back hunched yet somehow maintaining his pride. "… You will not escape," he intoned, sounding almost (strangely) resigned. His eyes narrowed and his tone grew harsher. "Even if this is my end, you will not be allowed to roam free as well."

Obito's eye flared to life, and his smile grew bitter as the seal stored safely within his sleeve was activated, absorbing his draining chakra reserves.

"That was never my intention," he stated coolly, taking a step toward Madara as he pulled out the glowing seal. No one would be escaping from this.

No one.

His eyes creased as he smiled in aberrant humor.

"It's only fitting that the two known as Uchiha Madara who tried to bring the world's end died once and for all… Don't you think?"

They had arrived in the area about half an hour ago, each with their own expectations.

It was through the combined efforts of Kakashi's ninken and Minato's Hiraishin jutsu that they had managed to hasten their travels, but their hope had quickly turned to confusion and frustration when they arrived.

The trail Kakashi and his ninken had detected abruptly cut off not far from the coast, leaving them in the middle of the peninsula. The natural conclusion to the end of a trail usually meant that the target was nearby.

But Obito was nowhere to be found.

It was strange, Kakashi couldn't help but say, that his trail cut off completely. Not even the most skilled infiltration experts were able to mask their presence to such a degree, leaving absolutely nothing in their wake with the exception of a dead end.

The logical conclusion they had come to was that he used his Kamui.

The trail itself was at most an hour old, and Kakashi had bitterly noted that it was possible Obito realized they were following him, and utilized his technique to throw them off of his trail. Why, though? Why would he do that? Kakashi couldn't understand why their teammate would go through all of this to begin with, and stated as much in a rare moment of candid thought.

Minato shook his head and replied that it was more than likely that Obito didn't know they were following him. Rather, his focus is likely a different goal, one existing nearby.

Both Rin and Kakashi were left confused by their sensei's statement. Clearly, the blond knew more than they did, and the fact that he was not forthcoming with said information disquieted them both.

And yet, the knowledge that their sensei seemed to have things under control also set them at ease, gave them the sense that everything was going to be alright. Something they sorely needed in light of recent events.

It was when they were walking further north, after having decided to search together, that it happened.

Suddenly, the earth trembled and shook, causing the party to halt their movement. They each scanned their surroundings warily, wondering if the tremors were a result of a technique but when they found the source they stood stock still in horrified awe.

The trio watched as a part of the nearby mountain range seemed to explode, debris, fire and charred earth hurling into the air at dangerous speeds. The resulting shockwave swept through the forests, ripping trees and foliage up from their roots, the scene epitomizing a true calamity.

"Get down!" Minato hissed, slamming his hands down on the ground to erect a small barrier.

He winced with each displaced chunk of earth and tree that battered the shield, not so much in worry of the barrier failing, but realizing exactly what had caused the explosion to begin with.

As the shockwave passed and area settled after what felt like hours, the blond allowed the barrier to fall and slowly stood up, sharp eyes surveying the scene. Destruction was obvious, and not a single tree was left standing. Craters of various sizes from fallen chunks of earth were littered around the vicinity, and at the source of the explosion, the mountainside where it originated, the earth receded into itself. Minato's mind processed the destruction and the effects, his eyes narrowed. "… That was…"

He looked down when he felt a tug at his arm, but Rin was staring off in the distance towards the epicenter of the destruction.

"Minato-sensei," she whispered, breathless. "… What if… What if Obito was really…?"

Kakashi was similarly stunned, his eyes wide as he stared past the upturned earth and focused on the line of mountains in the distance. Minato only managed a shaky smile for his students, clapping them both on the shoulder in a gesture of reassurance. "We won't know for certain until we get there. Let's go."

He received two nods and the group darted off in the direction where a faint pulse of foreign chakra could be detected.

Unbidden, a memory flashed through Minato's mind.

Burning.

The apartment was burning, and he couldn't find his student.

He darted through the rooms, ignoring the searing heat and the few abrasions he suffered from the already failing supports, and finally found himself in the boy's bedroom. His eyes glanced to and fro, looking for the familiar visage of his student—

—and settled on what appeared to be a very dead Obito.

'No,' he thought quietly with wide-eyes, his heart rate increasing in alarm. He swept through the fire and gently, gingerly, picked the young boy up—ignoring the distinct smell of burning flesh, ignoring the horrifying realization that he knew this acrid odor from war, ignoring the fact that it was his student that suffered this—and reached out for his Hiraishin seal with his chakra.

The blond grimaced as he recalled the memory. It was likely then, he realized, that the current Obito arrived. The one from the future.

He glanced to his two students who steadily paced him at his sides, both with fear equal to determination written clearly on their weary faces. A result of war and loss. Pain.

Shaking his head, Minato turned back to the steadily approaching crater, his expression inscrutable.

"… You'd better not be curled up on the floor in the middle of that, Obito."

A/N: I was way off with Madara's character, I know. I tried though, I did, but I just couldn't bring myself to read through ~200 or so chapters just for the characterization of someone who hasn't appeared until now.

I know some of you hate Madara as much as you hate Danzo (which is… a lot, more than I had expected from this fandom, to be honest) but I wanted to make a point that Obito knows that he was just as guilty as Madara for carrying out the plans. This was the whole reason for the whole suicidal bit—not because he was completely losing his mind or running away, like some of you pointed out (though both do have their truths), but because he was acknowledging his sins and trying to repent, albeit in a rather of counter-productive manner. I wanted to reference Itachi's own goal, his own martyring situation in this, and I think I did a decent job showing the dichotomy between Uchihas like Itachi and Obito vs. those thoroughly steeped in the Curse of Hatred. And yet, the curse is something that Obito does suffer from, but as someone in the series said (can't remember who, can't remember what episode) Obito, while having been subjected to the clan's Curse of Hatred, also had the Will of Fire—making him a sort of exception, a bridge between the village and the clan. (Again, another reference to Itachi's own predicament in canon)

I don't know. I think Obito is a fool, but at least as a child he was an adorable, determined little fool. There is so much about adultObito that I don't agree with, if just because much of what he did simply didn't make sense to me (aside from labeling him a drama queen outright). He's a hard worker and tries his best, but... Some of his decisions, and some of the paths he dedicates his hard work to is just... WELL, hopefully I got THAT part right.