Sorry for the wait for the new chapter. My creative juices just up and left me for a little while there. I'll leave a bit of a longer note at the end of the chapter for those that are interested. At any rate, thank you guys so much for all the reviews, favourites, and follows.

Also: I am sad to report that while so far, no angst has managed to wiggle its way in, a bit of edge has. I have failed. Thankfully though, Omakes exist.

Chapter 5: Villainy

Quirks.

Quirks were weird. Their most dangerous aspect was not in power, nor in versatility, but in sheer unpredictability. On average, most were useful for neither combat nor espionage.

It was those wildcard quirks that mattered, and made Obito infinitely appreciative of this world's "search engine".

Not all quirks were created equally and therein lay the problem. Alongside Obito's inability to sense their presence due to their lack of chakra, it was nearly impossible to predict what any potential opponent's ability could be. Sure, some quirks were obvious at first glance, and the vast majority were simply random mutations.

Feet for hands. Sharper vision. Slightly enhanced finger manipulation. Increased strength. Greatly increased perception. Elemental control.

All of these were well and good, and made up more than ninety-nine point nine percent of all quirks. But it was the less obvious ones that gave Obito pause. Those pesky, less than one-tenth of one percent quirks.

What if there's a tracking quirk? Or a telepathic quirk? A mind reading quirk?

Forget the weaker quirks. If there's anyone here that's truly powerful, of course their quirk will match it. Even if they make up less than a percent of all known quirks, I am guaranteed to meet people with them if I am seen as a threat.

It was similar to shinobi, in a way. While the vast majority of shinobi were genin—one did not prepare to meet genin on the field.

Obito sighed as he stopped himself from slamming his head on the library desk. When he first arrived, he wondered if perhaps he hadn't been paranoid enough. The rather pathetic showing of this world's heroes hadn't helped curb his disdain.

As things stood, it seemed more paranoia was necessary.

What an odd world this is.

Obito had spent a good deal of time mingling among the general populace, returning regularly to the same library to use their computer.

This world, while weaker, was also more peaceful, which led to one thing that this world held in abundance compared to his own: technological and economic advancement.

There was no comparison. Obito still struggled to wrap his mind around the difference between the two. The average person here led a life of luxury even the Kage of the hidden villages could never hope to experience.

Obito languished as he stayed among the ordinary folks in his henge, pausing to gaze through the window at one of the many hero merchandise stores that inhabited this world. An All Might figurine stared back at him with eyes as fake as his own.

So obsessed with their heroes.

They had been so disappointing, too. For all of their posturing, they did not seem to be all that powerful. Any jounin level shinobi would be more than a match for the majority of heroes.

That being said, perhaps their lower-than-average power levels are a boon.

The closest thing he had had to a hero was the Fourth Hokage—Minato Namikaze. The fastest man alive, and a hero of the Third Shinobi War. Even as an academy student, there was an understanding that a "heroic" shinobi was still a shinobi.

And no shinobi was a hero in the proper sense of the word.

The Fourth, a hero to all in Konoha, was a curse to other nations; to invoke his name was to put a curse. His name carried with it the same infamy that the name of Itachi Uchiha did to those from his home village of Konoha. To shinobi, it was simply a matter of perspective—your hero was another man's villain, and vice versa.

Here, it seemed that this world's heroes were beloved by all. All Might was the best example of this. Figures of heroism, of hope, of strength and security, they stood in the breach and held back those who dared stand against the social order.

Petty criminals and other, lower profile villains made up the majority of that bunch, if the press were to be believed. Villains of that calibre could surely be handled by just the police. Which begged the question: who opposed the heroes? If they were not needed, they would not exist.

I have a decent idea of what the heroes of this world are like. It's time to find some villains.

Turning, he left the display and wondered what the best way of doing that would be.

Safe once more within his Kamui dimension, Obito dropped his henge. Lying down on his newly-repaired hammock, he pondered the problem as he snacked on some dango.

I'll have to keep my identities separate.

So far, he had two personas in this world: Tobi, and grumpy-civilian-man. Here, it was only possible for a person to have one ability, which meant he would have to give each a "quirk" and do his best to only use that one ability while in-character.

For grumpy-civilian-man, he'd need something simple, something easy to use while under henge. Something nondescript, innocuous.

Water and wall walking fit perfectly. But what about Tobi?

Tobi was best personified as an incompetent fool—he'd need an ability that reflected that. Teleportation and other such space-time related abilities were supposedly very, very rare, and with this world's proclivity for tracking such things (apparently, most quirks were recorded, something that baffled his shinobi instincts), using Kamui freely could become troublesome down the line.

Kamui is one of my most powerful abilities.

He had quite the selection. Intangibility, teleportation, wood manipulation, fire manipulation, minor earth manipulation, cloning—and more—were all in his repertoire, and those didn't include his physical shinobi skills.

Note to self: test limits of genjutsu. I have no idea how the people here would react to foreign chakra being injected into their bodies.

Suddenly, it came to him.

This world is obsessed with quirks.

In the shinobi world—it was Tobi's apparent incompetence that drove everyone mad. 'How could such a buffoon be among the Akatsuki?', they would ask themselves. Every shinobi prided themselves on their abilities, whether ninjutsu, taijutsu, or genjutsu. To see a fool among the elite was irritating to any shinobi with a sliver of pride.

Here? Nobody would care. Tobi would just be another freak, born with a lucky power.

What would drive anyone more mad than not knowing what Tobi's quirk is? It's perfect.

Obito was now sitting up, his dango finished as he envisioned it.

They'd go insane, asking themselves over and over, 'What is his quirk?'.

Standing, his eye morphed to the red and black shuriken of his Mangekyou Sharingan.

After all, simple taijutsu and shurikenjutsu should be more than enough to deal with any fool here.

Tobi laughed out loud.

"I hope they'll be accommodating for poor old Tobi… now, if I were a bad boy, where would I hide…?"

The void of Kamui did not answer. It never did.

Emerging quickly and quietly from a hole in reality, Tobi began his hunt for those of a more villainous nature. He had armed himself with several kunai, wires, and shuriken, each concealed beneath both the folds of his robes and a veneer of stupidity.

It was dark, and the moon was once again new; it had been a month since his molestation of the local heroes. Crisp, yet filthy air assaulted his senses through his orange mask as he descended upon the poorer areas of Musutafu.

Tobi hummed a merry tune as he skipped between alleyways, a slow breeze rustling his Akatsuki garb as he did.

In this part of town, it's just a matter of time until I meet someone of a more villainous nature.

His deductions were proven correct not thirty minutes later.

"Well, well, looks like we've caught ourselves a freak."

"Doesn't he know this is Yakuza territory? We can't let masked weirdos prance around."

Tobi had soon found himself surrounded by a mix of riff raff and street trash. In a tried and true ambush tactic—one of their kin had followed him and marked him as an easy target, and the others boxed him in as he hit a dead end. There were five in total, and each wore a cheap animal mask to conceal their identity.

Obito felt a small smile form behind his own mask as they sprung their trap.

Efficient. They've obviously done this before.

"W-what do you want? Tobi doesn't want any trouble!" Tobi said, voice full of fear. Their leader grinned. He was unassuming—if not for his mask, one would not have expected him to be part of a gang. Slightly below average height and size, he and his gang of four members sported short haircuts as they brandished their weapons.

The sound of metal rubbing metal rang out as the leader's nails grew long and sharp, invisible in the dark to all but Obito's Mangekyou Sharingan.

"Tobi? Is that your name?" he drawled.

"Yes! Yes! I'm Tobi and I'm a good boy, and I don't want any trouble!" Tobi exclaimed as the man approached. He fell backwards, hitting the alleyway wall behind him before sliding down the length until he was seated.

"That's nice. I'd like to be a good boy, too. Why don't you give me your coat and wallet so we can both be good boys together?" he asked as he crouched down to Tobi's level, his makeshift claws near Tobi's face.

His friends snickered to themselves. Clearly, their target was a coward or a freak.

"B-but this is Tobi's robe!" he cried, fidgeting nervously, his hands shaking as he tried to hide his face away.

"Well, unless you'd like to make me be a 'bad boy'..." he said, cocking his head to the side.

Tobi gulped audibly as he looked up at the man that was trying to mug him. His sharingan began to spin lazily—his gaze meeting directly with that of his prey—chakra ensnaring the man in his genjutsu.

Nothing happened.

"You gave yourself a pinkeye? What kind of shit quirk is that?"

Tobi stood up slowly as a slight chill went through his attempted muggers.

"Interesting, most interesting…" Obito's rough yet even voice pierced through the dark. Tobi had all but disappeared.

"To think the genjutsu that destroyed a nation is all but useless here. How disappointing," he continued as the gang and their leader collectively took a step back.

"Yugara was strong, and you… well, the less said about you, the better. Why then, doesn't it also work on you, you who are so beneath him?"

"What are you talking about? Shut the fuck up you freak!" the leader exclaimed, his breath and heart rate picking up slightly. He was unable to feel Obito's wicked chakra, but the sudden shift in demeanour was enough to trigger his basic survival instincts.

What the fuck is wrong with this guy?

To his credit—he and his friends quickly rebounded from their fear, anger now bristling at the forefront of their minds. They had felt fight or flight and had chosen fight.

"Last chance! Give us your shit, or we'll take it from you!"

Obito ignored their ultimatum and took a step forward, easily catching the arm of the leader who so rudely tried to stab him in the face in retaliation. In a single motion, Obito broke his arm before resting his other hand on the man's head, sucking him into Kamui in an instant.

"What? What the fuck!" one of his friends shouted, eyes wide.

"Kikuchi! What did you do to him? Give him back!"

Their cries fell on deaf ears as Obito's eye shone red from behind his mask, a confident yet lazy demeanour supplanting his earlier cowardice as he slowly lowered his hand. At the sight, one broke away and turned to run.

Folding his hands into a single seal, Obito shunshinned in front of the man, blocking the only entrance and trapping the entire gang in the alley they had tried to rob him in.

"Now now, I can't let any of you go," he rebuked mockingly as he slowly pulled out a single kunai from beneath his robes.

"Please!"

Obito paused.

His eye seemed to shine even more menacingly.

"No."

Omake—Codes (1)

Obito frowned.

As he had come to understand, those small pieces of paper that were given out were a form of receipt—a way to denote the total charge for a purchase. It was convenient, and very useful. With a glance, anyone could tell what amount was spent on taxes, what was spent on the product itself, and so on.

Very useful.

However, something was different about this receipt in particular.

Now, as grumpy-civilian-man (he had yet to come up with a name for this persona) he had begun to haunt more places than just the library. After casually pickpocketing more than a few unwitting civilians, he had a modest income—enough to frivolously indulge on some minor expenses.

The coffee shop across the road from his library was his first victim. He cared not for the coffee—but they did make a mean dango. Everyday or every other day, he would indulge in at least one stick.

It was good enough for him to begin stocking up on the stuff after the incident with Kakashi that had destroyed his previous stash.

Stupid bastard. Even in another dimension he manages to fuck me over.

What was different about this receipt, you might ask?

Below the part that denoted the total owed, there was something written on a napkin in clear blue ink. A random nine-digit code alongside the phrase 'call me', which were accompanied by what he could only guess was some sort of face and a symbol for a heart.

Obviously, it's some sort of code.

Hunching over his table, he glared at the code, wondering who could have written it, and what it could possibly mean.

The waitress, most likely. In my experience, the same person always gives me my receipt. But why a code? And why now? What does it mean?

He turned to look to the back of the shop, where said waitress was not-so-discreetly trying to watch him. She turned slightly red at Obito's serious face before hurrying to the kitchen.

It could be dangerous. An assassination attempt?

His paranoia flared at the idea of carrying something like this.

It could also serve some sort of social function.

Against his better nature, he discreetly sealed the napkin into a small wristband to examine later.

Chapter End

rntobi: Well, here's an Obito-only chapter! I hope you enjoy it.

The new god of shinobi: Sorry for the wait, but here's the fifth chapter.

guest reader: Unfortunately, I don't plan on doing too much with the main cast of MHA (although that may change as my plans for this are nearly entirely, "throw obito in and see what happens"). It's a cool idea though.

Ok, so here's a bit of a longer note than normal. Sorry for the long wait, but like I said, my creativity just up and vanished on me. I do have some work-related travel coming up soon as well, so it might be a while before I update again. Let me know if the edge is too much, I can always dial it back a bit if enough people feel it's a bit extra.

As far as power levels go, I've watched Naruto and MHA, and I think most would agree that Obito scales higher than anyone in the MHA verse (in the anime, at least. I haven't read the manga). If you have any questions about Obito's genjutsu, feel free to PM or leave a review—it will also be covered in the next chapter. Also, I ask that you keep in mind this is Obito's perspective on the MHA world. He hasn't seen any quirks properly in action just yet.

As always, feel free to leave a review or to PM me if you have any thoughts or critiques. I'd love to hear them.

Have a good day!