"It turned out to be Lord Madara…"
Orochimaru licked his lips. His golden snake-like eyes narrowed slightly, a flicker of unease surfacing as he realized Obito had appeared silently behind him without even a ripple of chakra to give him away.
"Orochimaru," Obito's scarlet Sharingan locked onto him coldly. His voice was calm, yet carried a weight that pressed down on the air.
"You've set your sights on my prey."
"Oh? How rude of me," Orochimaru replied, his tone respectful but his expression betraying a twitch of irritation.
That annoyance lasted only a moment. The instant Obito's killing intent grazed him, a chill spread down his spine. He smothered his anger and instead let out a low, twisted chuckle.
"Since the Kaguya clan is Lord Madara's prey, then I suppose I shouldn't interfere,"
Orochimaru said with a smile that revealed sharp teeth. He stepped forward slowly, brushing past Obito.
"Well then, I'll be looking forward to our next encounter… Lord Madara."
With those words, Orochimaru slithered away, his gait oddly stiff, lips pressed thin as if chewing on his own resentment.
His face contorted into something eerie fangs grinding, eyes burning but he forced himself to retreat.
"Heh… don't forget to keep moving," Obito said faintly, almost in amusement.
When Orochimaru's figure finally vanished into the thick Mist, Obito turned his head slightly, crimson eyes narrowing.
"Tch. He really is a man who aims for great things. To suppress his fury that easily… that takes some nerve."
His gaze drifted back toward the battlefield below. The flames reflected in his eyes as he whispered:
"Kaguya clan…"
The Kaguya, muscle-brained berserkers, infamous for their bloodlust. Their only joy lay in battle, their only pride in slaughter.
They fought recklessly, desperately, simply to affirm their existence.
Obito smiled inwardly.
What meaning is there in living like that?
In contrast, one boy... Kimimaro stood out like a gem buried in filth. For such a child to be born into this clan was nothing short of irony.
The clash below reached its climax. Smoke and blood mingled as Mist-ninja forces tightened the encirclement.
Only a dozen Kaguya still stood, their bodies cut, blood dripping, yet their grins remained feral.
"There are only a few of us left alive," the Kaguya patriarch rasped. His face was a mask of cruelty, teeth stained red, eyes gleaming with manic delight.
"Looks like we're surrounded," one of his clansmen replied, laughing even as his chest heaved from exhaustion.
"The defenses of Kirigakure were stronger than we expected."
Despite their dwindling numbers, none, save for the small figure among them showed fear.
Every last one still wore a smile. Not the smile of hope, but the crazed smirk of men who saw death as nothing more than the next battle.
They looked like lunatics… and that was exactly what they were.
"In that case… kill them all! Kill one more while you're at it!"
The Kaguya patriarch howled with manic laughter, blood dripping from his blade.
"Hey, hey—hahaha!"
"At least let us enjoy ourselves!"
The adults of the Kaguya clan echoed him, their voices deranged, every word dripping with madness.
Only one figure among them didn't fit—Kimimaro.
The boy's pale face showed only confusion, his eyes hollow as he cut down enemy after enemy.
Since childhood, his clan had locked him away in a dark cell. He never knew why he was alive, nor for whom he fought. When the patriarch finally released him, it was with only one command: fight.
And so, Kimimaro fought.
Not for glory, not for survival...only because he was told to. Until even his heart grew numb.
A genius, Obito thought to himself, his Sharingan following the boy's movements.
Kimimaro's technique was raw, completely untrained, yet his body moved with frightening precision. Every strike was instinctive, efficient, and lethal.
One by one, the bloodthirsty Kaguya fell. Eventually, only Kimimaro remained, his small figure drenched in blood as he broke through the encirclement and vanished into the thick Mist.
The battlefield was left in silence, littered with corpses, his clan's corpses, stacked like mountains.
Obito's gaze didn't linger. He knew the Fourth Mizukage had already ordered the bodies collected. They would be delivered to him in due time.
Silently, he turned away and followed Kimimaro's trail.
Through the haze, the boy wandered alone until he came upon a small stream.
Kimimaro paused, staring at his own reflection in the water. His voice was flat, almost mechanical:
"I'm alone again."
No sadness, no anger. Just emptiness.
Then, something caught his eye. A small white flower blooming by the stream's edge.
Kimimaro stepped closer, crouched down, and gazed at it.
"Why would you bloom in such a place?" he whispered.
The flower swayed gently in the wind.
Kimimaro stared, then narrowed his eyes. For a moment, killing intent flickered in his gaze.
"Why don't you answer?" he muttered coldly.
…
Flower: Bro, I don't even have a mouth. Why don't you come closer and catch these hands?
Flower: …oh right, I don't have hands either.
Obito, standing in the shadows, almost twitched.
This kid… he's seriously messed up in the head.
After another moment of silence, Kimimaro's face twisted.
"Are you ignoring me?" he barked, his voice louder this time. Having beef with a flower is crazy, yet here he was, glaring at it like it had personally insulted him.
The flower: "…"
"Blooming in such a place… no one will ever see you!"
He raised the bone blade protruding from his arm, muscles tensing as he prepared to strike.
But just as he was about to bring it down, a voice cut through the Mist:
"I saw it, you know…"
Kimimaro froze. His head snapped around, startled, to find a masked man standing behind him, when had he even arrived?
"Not only did I see it," the man continued, his voice low and calm, "but you also saw it."
Obito's eyes curved faintly.
"That's why it's blooming here."
"Meaning…?" Kimimaro asked, his confusion breaking through the coldness of his tone.
Obito studied him quietly. A child with an empty heart, no direction, no reason to live. For a moment, something like sympathy flickered behind the mask.
Then let me fill that void, he thought.
He chuckled softly.
"People might not know the meaning of living while they're alive," Obito said slowly.
"But if you keep living, you might find something interesting."
He gestured to the small white flower.
"Just like you found that flower."
Then his finger turned, pointing straight at Kimimaro.
"And just like I found you."
With that, Obito extended his gloved hand toward the boy.
"Since you can't find the meaning of life," his voice dropped to a murmur, warm yet commanding,
"let me give you one."
"Come with me. How about it?"
After Obito's words, something in Kimimaro changed. Light crept into his eyes where there had been only blankness before, and an almost-childish smile curved his lips for the first time.
Slowly, almost reverently, he raised his hand and placed it on Obito's outstretched palm.
Obito's mouth twitched into the faintest smile.
"So...let's go."
"Hmm!" Kimimaro answered, voice small but steady.
The following day, Obito collected the scrolls from Kirigakure, the records of the Kaguya corpses and the clan's inheritance scroll and together with Kimimaro he returned to the Snow Country.
Inside the fortress, Terumi Mei caught sight of the boy and blinked in surprise.
"Kaguya?" she asked.
"That's right," Obito replied, inclining his head. Then he introduced the child. "This is the new boy, Kimimaro."
Chihori stepped forward, gentle as ever. She reached out and patted the boy's head with a smile. "So… Kimimaro, is it?"
Kimimaro's face flushed faintly at the soft touch. He looked awkward and a little overwhelmed, but there was a strange warmth behind his eyes.
Obito observed him, then spoke in a low, steady voice. "Kimimaro, this place will be your home from now on. These people will be your family."
He paused, letting the words settle. "Your purpose is to protect my family and to help me accomplish my ambitions."
At those words something long dormant in Kimimaro stirred. The numbness in his chest cracked, and a fierce little ember bloomed into flame. He straightened, eyes bright with resolve.
"Yes, Madara-sama!" he answered, voice ringing.
After Chihori took Kimimaro to get him settled, Obito walked to his study carrying the inheritance scroll. He set it away, then sank into a chair and let his thoughts drift.
He didn't notice immediately how long he'd been staring into nothing. A gentle scent reached him, and then warm hands rested on his shoulders.
"What's on your mind?" Terumi Mei's voice came from behind.
"Nothing important," Obito replied softly. "Just thinking about Kimimaro."
Mei cocked her head, concerned. "What's wrong with him?"
Obito exhaled once, the weight of it quiet. "He awakened too early. The level of his awakening is too high, and he was malnourished. His body has issues."
He had already checked the boy on the way back. There were signs of overuse, deficits...his physiology had been pushed and neglected.
Obito had been turning the problem over in his head: could fusing him with red items fix it?
Kimimaro was an obedient, gifted weapon in human form. If he died young… it would be a waste.
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