Tobi knew he was spoiling the girl. He took everyone out eventually, either because they were a good fit for a mission or just to see how far they had aged and whether the time dilation needed adjusting. It had been a while since he'd taken someone out permanently, before they got too old to be useful. For that matter, it had been a while since he'd gone looking for a new genin for the collection. He was just having too much fun with Kakashi's kunoichi.
At first he'd been all business, but he'd made a mistake comparing her to Rin. The scars on her cheeks never healed, and every time he looked at her he felt flustered like he hadn't since he was a kid. She wasn't Rin, of course: her hair and eyes were the wrong colour, and every time he took her out she was a little bit older than Rin had ever been allowed to get. But she was from home.
He asked her what she thought of Kakashi.
"He was late every time he met us." Her blank expression pinched into a tiny frown. "And he read dirty books."
Tobi grinned. It seemed Mr Perfect had picked up more than a few bad habits.
"I miss him," Sakura said quietly. "I didn't know him for long, but I was looking forward to being his student."
That wasn't as fun. "Tell me about Konoha."
She talked about their shared home, and her nostalgia became his nostalgia. "I miss it too," he admitted, because she wouldn't remember anyway. "I miss my family, and my teacher, and Rin. I even miss that stupid Kakashi."
She didn't respond, merely stood there in what he privately thought of as 'doll mode'. Tobi reached out to stroke her face, but once again her scars made him hesitate. She was his, completely under his control, but he still couldn't bring himself to touch her.
"Rin," he said, but of course she didn't respond. "Call yourself Rin," he ordered.
"I'm Rin."
"What's your name?"
"My name is Rin."
"Smile at me."
She smiled, obedient, and his chest fluttered.
"Call me- call me Obito."
"Obito," she said softly. He couldn't quite remember what Rin's voice sounded like, but he liked the way Kakashi's kunoichi said his name. When had someone last called him that? He closed his eyes.
"Say it again, Rin."
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Before long she had become an obsession for him. He brought her out for missions that suited others better, but mostly he simply brought her out to talk to her.
"Tell me you love me," he said once, and had been so embarrassed at himself that he sent her back before she could respond. He knew she'd say it; she'd even say it convincingly. But it would only remind him that it was a lie. If he dropped his genjutsu, she wouldn't love him at all. And she certainly wouldn't be Rin.
Still, he kept bringing her back. He asked her about her life inside the Kamui; was she happy? Did she want anything?
"My freedom," she'd replied dully.
"Anything else?" He refused to let their growing rapport be ruined by her honesty. "Something useful, like the sword you picked up in The Land of Rivers."
She paused. "Medical textbooks. Historical dramas. Romance novels."
"Books, huh?" he hadn't really thought about the enrichment of his projects when he'd started collecting them a few months ago. He glanced around the house he was currently occupying. The owners hadn't been particularly wealthy, but he was sure he'd seen a few books laying around upstairs somewhere. "Come with me."
He led her to the master bedroom, where the parents probably slept before he'd killed them. There were a couple of books on both nightstands, and he gathered them up for her.
"How does this make you feel? Be honest."
He hoped she might say she was pleased, or grateful. But instead of speaking, she leaned forward until her face was pressed to the books. She took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of old paper, and sobbed.
"Hey…" it was always awkward when girls cried in front of you, but he quickly realised her tears were happy ones. He had made her so happy she'd cried.
"Give me a hug," he told her gently, opening his arms wide.
The books fell to the floor as she dutifully folded herself against his chest. He hadn't really touched her, or told her to touch him, since he'd taken her out for her first mission. She was so much bigger now. Her head tucked perfectly under his chin.
"Love me," he breathed against her ear, and the hands around his back tightened, then slipped free as she leaned up to kiss his masked face.
Her eyes were closed, lips flushed and parted, but Tobi could see the tracks of the tears she was still crying, even now, roll down her scarred cheeks.
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The remains of Team Seven finally had an away mission, a C-rank escort trip to the Land of Waves. Apparently a bridge builder needed help getting home. Naruto and Sasuke were actually enthusiastic about it, which would have been enough for Kakashi to fight for the contract; but the Land of Waves was also closeish to the latest rumours about pink-haired girls. This time, a woman had apparently cut through half a dozen soldiers with one of their own swords. Few reliable witnesses had been left alive, and there seemed to be some debate as to whether the person's hair was actually pink or just stained with blood, but a lead was a lead. Once they got Tazuna the bridge builder back to the Land of Waves, he could suggest they take the long way home to Konoha.
The mission went wrong almost immediately. It seemed their client hadn't been entirely truthful about how many enemies he actually had, or how rich they were. Mercenaries dogged them all the way south, on the orders of someone named Gatou. Kakashi wanted to press them for information, but it was all he could do to keep them off Tazuna and the boys' backs.
Tazuna's enemy had their ace lying in wait mere minutes from the man's house. This was no grunt, but a seasoned shinobi with the sort of sword that nobody would carry unless they knew how to use it. His forehead protector was marked with the Hidden Mist symbol – a bad sign – and then slashed through to show that this particular had gone rogue – an even worse sign.
"Protect Tazuna," he ordered the boys, because this opponent was a true killer and there was no way he was letting anyone else go. One was enough. One was too many.
They fought, and Kakashi's assumptions about the man's skills were proven correct. He fingered the plate of his own forehead protector, the perfect unmarked Konoha leaf he'd be prepared to die wearing. He slid it up to reveal his left eye.
The missing-nin, who surprisingly politely introduced himself as Zabusa, clearly recognised the sharingan.
"I'll consider it a great reflection of my skills if I manage to kill you."
Kakashi prepared a series of seals, using the nearby lake to his advantage. The kids couldn't walk on water yet, so they wouldn't feel obliged to follow him into danger.
The jaws of his Water Dragon Release opened wide to swallow Zabusa whole. He expected the man to dodge, and Kakashi was ready for a follow-up action; but the man simply allowed the chakra to break over him, slashing through the worst with his monstrous sword. It would have hurt, taking elemental chakra head on like that, but Zabusa's riposte was immediate and unflinching. He fought like a man with nothing to lose, and Kakashi couldn't do the same.
Horse, ram, monkey, rat. He was going to die, wasn't he? If he did, would the mercenary just kill the builder and leave the boys alone? No, Naruto and Sasuke would never let him get close to their client without a fight, even if it was certain death for them at this level. So Kakashi couldn't afford to die. Too many people were counting on him. Sakura was still out there somewhere, waiting for him to find her. Everyone else had given her up for dead. Even her parents had approached him just the other day, before he and the boys left for this awful mission. It had been a month, they'd said. They had to accept the truth for their own sanity. The truth? He'd asked, and they'd shared an expression that broke his heart all over again. She's gone. Our little girl is dead.
He'd failed her, then. He'd waited too long, played it too careful, and by the time he got back home, if he got back home, there would be a piece of carved stone where a girl should be.
The grief he'd pushed back for thirty days mobbed him in his moment of weakness. It stole his speed, and Zabusa's sword bit deep into his side before he could parry. It stole his energy, and as Zabusa spun into his blind spot it took precious extra seconds for Kakashi to turn and raise his weapon. It stole his resolve, and when the killing blow came for him it was almost a relief that he wouldn't watch the others die too. Was this similar to what Sakura saw, in her own last moments?
And then, finally, the grief gave something back.
His sharingan exploded in pain, enhanced vision going dark in sickening speed. Blackness whorled in his vision, and without Zabusa's grunt of surprise he might have assumed it was his own personal hallucination, the last flicker of movement before complete blindness.
The spinning blackness coalesced into a wall of grey that Kakashi realised, after desperately focusing his one working eye, was the back of a long hooded coat.
The figure stumbled, sinking to their knees in the lake before their chakra could compensate. They turned, seemed to take in the scene: two masked men, one with dark hair and camouflage pants, one with light hair and a green vest. Two people on the far bank.
The newcomer was wearing goggles and had the bottom half of their face hidden under so many shabby scarves that he couldn't even tell their gender, but he could still see the fear in their posture, and guess at the calculations they were making. Their hand was tense on the hilt of a sword at their hip. Fight, or flee?
"Sensei!" Naruto yelled, throwing a kunai at the newcomer. They drew the sword and knocked it wide in one fluid movement. The decision had been made for them.
Zabusa made a lunge at them as they passed, more of a test than a genuine attempt to harm them. The newcomer side-stepped it with ease, their own sword disappearing into the man's side almost too quickly for Kakashi's damaged vision. And then they were moving again, making a beeline for Naruto and Sasuke.
"Stop!" Kakashi cried out, partly begging the stranger for mercy, or at least to change their target, and partly hoping that the boys would stop trying to be so damn brave. Sasuke was already forming the seals for a fireball and Naruto had left a cluster of shadow clones with the builder so that he could meet the attacker head-on.
Greenish chakra glowed from their bare feet as they raced across the water, finally reaching the bank. Sasuke's fireball sizzled the mud where they had been standing, but they simply increased the output and used the burst to catapult over the top. Kakashi was already running of course, ignoring Zabusa, ignoring his depleted chakra and the pain in his side and left eye.
The newcomer landed behind Naruto, sword raised, ready to make a perfect arc toward, through, and then past the boy's neck. The boy made an inarticulate yelp, once again freezing, certainly unable to save himself. He turned, facing into the sword, blue eyes wide.
The sword hesitated, then lowered as its owner used their off-hand to grab the shoulder of their almost-victim's orange jacket.
"Naruto?"
