Obito didn't waste time.
The next day, after another grueling training session with Minato, he made his move. Instead of heading home, he doubled back through the village, slipping into the crowded market district. He kept his movements casual, blending into the late afternoon rush. If Root had someone tailing him, they'd have to work to keep up.
And sure enough, after a few careful glances, he spotted them.
A shadow at the edge of an alley. A flicker of movement on the rooftops.
They weren't being *obvious*, but they also weren't trying that hard to stay hidden. That meant they weren't worried about him noticing. They were confident.
Too confident.
Obito let them follow him for a while, weaving through the village in a winding, nonsensical route. A food stall, a smithy, a detour through the training grounds. He kept his pace steady, never once looking over his shoulder.
Then, when the timing was right—
He vanished.
A single well-timed Body Flicker sent him into the canopy of the nearest trees. He moved quickly, silently, circling around *them*.
And there they were.
The Root operative stood on a rooftop, head tilted slightly, scanning the area. Their mask was plain, and featureless except for the standard ANBU design. But Obito knew the difference. This wasn't just ANBU.
This was *Danzo's* ANBU.
His pulse pounded in his ears as he watched from the shadows.
*What do you want from me?*
For a split second, Obito considered attacking. He could strike fast, take the operatives by surprise, *and force* them to tell him why they were following him.
But no. That was reckless. Stupid.
Instead, he waited.
The Root agent stood there for a moment longer, then turned and disappeared in a swirl of leaves.
Obito exhaled, tension still coiled in his limbs.
They hadn't been following him just to observe.
They had been *tracking* him.
Root didn't waste resources without a reason. They wouldn't assign an operative to tail him unless they saw something *worth* monitoring.
And that meant—
*Danzo is interested in me.*
That realization sent a chill through him.
Danzo didn't just *watch* potential assets. He *claimed* them. Molded them. Used them until they were broken beyond repair.
And if he had set his sights on Obito…
Then it was only a matter of time before he made a move.
**
That night, Obito sat on the roof of his apartment, staring at the stars.
The weight of everything pressed down on him.
He had always known changing fate wouldn't be easy. That fighting against destiny would take more than just strength.
But now, things were escalating *faster* than he expected.
The Kannabi Bridge mission was coming. Root was watching. The storm was building.
And he wasn't ready.
Not yet.
But he would be.
He *had* to be.
Because this time, he wasn't going to let them control him.
This time, he was going to win.
Obito knew he couldn't just sit and wait for Danzo to make his move.
Waiting was what got people killed.
So the next morning, after another early training session, he made a decision. He needed to get ahead of this—figure out *why* Root was interested in him before they forced his hand.
And there was only one person who might have answers.
**
The archives were heavily monitored.
Not just by shinobi, but by security seals, barriers, and a rotating roster of watchful Chunin stationed at the entrance. Only those with proper clearance—Jonin, ANBU, clan heads—could access the more classified records.
Obito didn't have that kind of clearance.
But he did have a Sharingan.
And more importantly—he had a plan.
He spent the afternoon shadowing the shinobi assigned to archive duty, memorizing their rotations. Most were predictable—brief exchanges of paperwork, and occasional meetings with their superiors. The only time they truly let their guard down was during shift changes.
Which meant that was when he had to move.
That evening, under the cover of dusk, Obito activated his Sharingan and slipped inside.
He moved quickly, scanning the rows of documents, searching for anything that might tell him why Root was watching him.
At first, there was nothing.
Then—
*Uchiha, Obito*
His breath hitched as he pulled the scroll from the shelf. His fingers trembled slightly as he unrolled it.
What he found made his blood run cold.
### Subject: Uchiha, Obito
**Status:** Under Observation
**Assessment:** Potential Candidate for Root
**Directives:** Monitor closely for signs of advanced Sharingan development. If viable, initiate recruitment procedures.
*Recruitment procedures.*
Danzo wasn't just watching him.
He was *waiting* for him to awaken his Mangekyō.
And once he did—
Obito clenched his fists, bile rising in his throat.
Danzo must have seen his potential. Maybe it was his recent improvements in training, or maybe Root had been watching *all* Uchiha for potential candidates.
Either way, it was clear.
If he stayed on this path, if he got too strong too quickly—
Danzo would come for him.
*Just like he did with Shisui.*
Obito swallowed hard, forcing himself to stay calm. He had what he needed. Now, he just had to get out.
He carefully placed the scroll back, retracing his steps. The corridors were still empty, the guards distracted.
He was almost in the clear—
Then, suddenly—
*"You shouldn't be here."*
Obito froze.
A masked figure stood at the entrance of the archive chamber, blocking his only way out.
A Root operative.
His heartbeat thundered in his ears.
For a split second, neither of them moved.
Then—
The Root shinobi stepped forward. "Come with me."
Obito's grip tightened around the kunai hidden in his sleeve.
No.
He *refused* to let Danzo get his claws in him.
If they wanted a fight—
He'd give them one.