Beneath the mask, Uchiha Obito's face tightened. Bloodshot veins spread across the white of his right eye.
'Why?' The question echoed in his mind.
Kamui was his greatest power and deepest secret ever since he took the name Uchiha Madara.
Only one person had ever seen it used in battle... the Fourth Hokage, Minato Namikaze, during the Nine-Tails attack twelve years ago.
In that fight, Minato used the Flying Thunder God Technique's speed and insight to exploit the split-second vulnerability when Kamui transitioned.
But Minato was dead. Obito was certain his old teacher never had the chance to pass on Kamui's weakness to Konoha.
After all, the village elders had immediately placed the blame for the Nine-Tails attack on the Uchiha clan.
So, how did Shinichi know? The boy was only twelve years old. He hadn't even been born during the rampage.
How could he possibly know Kamui's weakness? Unless… Obito's single visible eye widened as an absurd thought surfaced...
Unless the boy had seen it with his own eyes, or... got the information from someone who absolutely shouldn't know.
The realization made Obito's stomach drop.
He had swooped onto this battlefield as "Uchiha Madara," aiming to crush his opponent with overwhelming power and mystery. But it was a miscalculation from the start.
The information gap had reversed. Now he was the one being seen through.
Shinichi held a giant Rasengan in one hand, his eyes locked on Obito's right eye. The mask hid Obito's face, but that bloodshot Mangekyo Sharingan said it all.
Shinichi's smile faded into a cold line. "Now…" His amber eyes reflected the frantic red veins in Obito's eye. "You should finally recognize who you really are."
Obito flinched beneath his mask.
Shinichi continued, his voice cold and mocking. "Uchiha Madara?"
"If the ghost of Madara were truly standing before me, I might pause for a moment." Chakra surged from his arm.
The roaring Rasengan expanded another inch, a violent gale ripping the rubble apart.
"But you? All you do is hide your real body in another dimension and scurry around like a rat. Your strength is a joke. You aren't even worth my full power."
Obito's breath hitched. The veins in his eye bulged. From the start, this boy had never seen him as a threat.
'Scurrying like a rat? A joke? Not worth it?'
Every word crushed the disguise and pride he'd carefully built over twelve years as the legendary Uchiha ghost
"Hmph… even so… what of it?" Knowing his mask was broken, Obito dropped the deep, imposing voice.
"My phasing ability is a strength in itself! With this eye, I stand on invincible ground! No matter how strong your attacks are, they're meaningless!"
"Invincible, you say?" Shinichi echoed calmly. "Then tell me... when your five-minute limit runs out and you have to face my attack head-on… how do you plan to survive? "
"Or will you just burn another Sharingan on Izanagi and rewrite your own death?"
He paused, his eyes fixed firmly on Obito's rigid form.
Obito fell silent. Blow after blow of revelations had left his mind sluggish. He couldn't guess what impossible secret the boy would expose next.
After a long pause, he closed his eye and formed a single hand seal. Chakra surged to his left eye socket, fueling the spare Sharingan he'd recently transplanted from his stash.
The three-tomoe pattern spun madly, then its crimson light went out forever, leaving a milky, blind eye.
Izanagi....activated.
In the next instant, Obito vanished from the crushing path of the humming blue Rasengan.
Shinichi's expression didn't change. He casually dispersed the massive chakra sphere, shifted the unconscious Fu over his shoulder, and turned to face Obito, who had reformed over twenty meters behind.
The two faced each other in tense silence.
Shinichi's eyes reflected absolute detachment.
"The shinobi world is no longer the era of your memories. It cannot be manipulated at will by a few pairs of Sharingan and a handful of forbidden jutsu."
He raised his chin slightly.
"Soon, I will be the strongest shinobi in this world. Anyone who attempts to snatch a Tailed Beast from my hands, or harbors the slightest ill intent toward my village..."
His voice turned cold and steady.
"...had better be prepared to be crushed."
His gaze sharpened.
Boom!
A massive wave of chakra erupted from him like an active volcano. The pressure turned into a tidal wave of raw energy, sweeping across the riverbank and slamming into Obito.
Caught fully in the physical realm, Obito's knees buckled under the crushing weight. Cracks spiderwebbed beneath his boots, sending chunks of earth floating into the air.
The violent gust whipped his black hair back and plastered his Akatsuki cloak to his body. The fabric snapped wildly, threatening to tear.
Hundreds of meters downriver, Black Zetsu and White Zetsu emerged from an ancient tree trunk, their upper halves sticking out of the bark as they watched.
Even from that distance, the shockwaves of Shinichi's chakra made the forest canopy thrash and rustle violently.
"Whoa! So scary!" White Zetsu shrieked, dramatically shrinking into his shoulders.
"What's with this chakra?! Is it this terrifying just by passively releasing it?! Obito looks like he's about to be flattened!"
Blanketed by the shadow of their pitcher-plant trap, Black Zetsu stayed silent, his yellow eyes dark and brooding.
Shinichi stared at Obito, immobilized within the chakra tide. The intensity in his eyes faded back to perfect calm. He had lost interest.
Whoosh!
Like a receding tide, the suffocating pressure rolled back, withdrawing into Shinichi's core. The gale died abruptly, and the suspended debris clattered to the ground.
Only the rushing river and White Zetsu's distant squawking filled the air. Freed from the weight, Obito swayed, dislodging loose soil into the newly carved crater beneath his feet.
Shinichi turned his back and walked toward the treeline. Just as his silhouette was about to vanish into the forest shadows, his voice drifted back clearly.
"However… based on your performance today… you are still far from ready."
Obito stared into the dark woods where Shinichi had leisurely departed. He slowly clenched his fists, knuckles popping in the quiet air.
The earth beside him rippled. Zetsu emerged from the ground. Seeing the trembling rage in Obito's clenched fists, even they stayed silent for a moment.
The silence dragged on.
Finally, Black Zetsu spoke in a low rasp. "It seems your objective this time… has ended in complete failure." He paused, then twisted the knife. "…Obito."
Black Zetsu deliberately dropped the title "Madara." Obito visibly stiffened.
Black Zetsu continued, his tone brutally pragmatic.
"With Tejima Shinichi protecting Konoha… an unmovable mountain has been placed directly in the path of the plan. He cannot be bypassed. He cannot be avoided."
"Originally, we only had to worry about their Nine-Tails jinchuriki. Now the Seven-Tails has also fallen into his hands."
"The situation has drastically changed."
The grim assessment hung heavy over the silent riverbank....
Obito finally stirred. Slowly he turned his head to glare at Black Zetsu.
"The plan… will not stop." He pressed a hand to his chest, tracing the phantom weight of the cursed seal on his heart.
"No matter who stands in my way… no matter how many mountains I have to level…"
The memory of a girl's sweet smile flashed through his mind. The conviction Shinichi had nearly shattered hardened into iron once more.
"The Eye of the Moon Plan… I will make that world a reality."
A silent spatial vortex bloomed behind him. His figure twisted, spiraling into the dimension before vanishing entirely. Only Zetsu remained.
White Zetsu tilted his head. "Oh, he left. By the way, what are we supposed to do now?"
Black Zetsu ignored the question, his body slowly sinking back into the soil. "We wait."
The command drifted away on the night breeze.
...
The light was dim, casting long shadows over a desolate void of massive floating concrete blocks.
Kakuzu knelt heavily on one of them, left hand clutching his chest as dark blood seeped through his fingers.
Scattered nearby lay the lifeless husks of three of his Earth Grudge Fear masks.
He kept his head low, his green eyes darting around as he scanned the unnerving, endless expanse.
There was no sky, no ground...only a static, infinite array of geometric structures.
"Where is this place?" His voice was hoarse from blood loss, laced with heavy suspicion.
His last memory was a surge of Wood Release roots swallowing him whole, followed by Hidan's shocked scream. Then space warped.
When he finally opened his eyes, he was trapped here.
Suddenly, the air in front of him rippled. A vortex silently spiraled into existence, and a figure stepped out from its center, boots touching down on the concrete cube.
An orange spiral mask. A black, red-cloud cloak.
Kakuzu's eyes narrowed. Suppressing the agony of his shattered hearts, he leaped back several meters and dropped into a defensive crouch.
"Who are you?" His voice was ice, his green gaze locked firmly onto the masked man.
"What is this place? Did you bring me here?"
Obito stood near the edge of the block, studying the heavily injured immortal who had so quickly shifted into a combat stance.
He made a swift calculation. Kisame was dead...his best pawn lost. But Kakuzu…
A new plan formed. Obito stared him down, injecting an ancient, suffocating pressure into his voice.
"You may call me… Uchiha Madara."
...
"Mm... ugh..."
A tired groan broke the wooden cabin's silence. Fu's eyelids fluttered open. Daylight blurred, then slowly focused. She was staring up at a wooden ceiling.
Blinking away the haze, a deep, aching soreness washed over her. Every muscle felt heavy with fatigue, as if she'd been run into the ground.
She tested her fingers. They twitched obediently. A sharp breath brought a flood of memories crashing back.
Kōga's lifeless body falling. The sickening crunch of Haruki being slammed into the rock. Dark red chakra, twisting black threads... and then a cold hand pressing firmly against her forehead.
Fu gasped. "Ah!" She scrambled backward on the bed, throwing her hands up in a frantic defensive stance as her eyes darted wildly around the room.
A small wooden cabin. Wood-paneled walls, floor, ceiling. Sparsely furnished... a bed, a small table, two chairs.
A half-open window let in warm afternoon daylight. Dead quiet, except for her hammering heart and ragged breathing.
"What's going on?" she muttered, her voice raspy from disuse. "Where am I?"
Could it be… She swallowed hard, throat bobbing with anxiety. "Was I… captured?"
Just as she spoke, the cabin door creaked open. A tall figure stood in the doorway, backlit by the bright sun. Fu squinted until the face came into focus.
Black hair. Amber eyes. Young and frustratingly calm. She'd never seen him before, but a stray thought slipped through her panic... 'He's kind of handsome'.
"You're awake." Shinichi stepped into the cabin, pulling the door shut behind him. His gaze swept over her defensive posture with complete indifference.
"How do you feel?"
Fu didn't answer. She stared at him unblinking, her muscles coiled tight.
"Who are you?" she demanded, her voice shaking with tension.
"Where am I? Are you... are you with Kakuzu and Hidan? Did you kidnap me?"
The questions poured out in a rush, one after another.
With no headband or village insignia to prove who he was, Fū's fear spiked...she was certain she had ended up in Akatsuki's hands after all.
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