Chapter 279: A Lesson from Society
The stranger looked at Ryū with an expression of genuine disbelief. He'd trained for over a month specifically for this — and nothing.
One of those spinning Sharingan eyes carried something off about it. A subtle wrongness, like something slightly stiff. Not quite right for a living eye.
Ryū reached out curiously, then stopped. Observation Haki had just given him a preview of the next ten to fifteen seconds.
"Kamui? You phase part of your body into a pocket dimension to dodge physical contact. So if I reached for your head, whatever I touched would shift into that space and I'd grab nothing."
He tilted his head thoughtfully. "Interesting ability. Keeps running and almost nothing can hit you. Almost."
Before the words finished landing, the stranger was already in the air — retreating ten-plus meters in a single motion. Whatever conditioning he'd received from Uchiha Madara had sharpened his threat-sensing considerably.
He didn't know why the genjutsu hadn't worked. He didn't know how Ryū knew his technique. But he knew, with complete certainty, that this person was dangerous. Continuing to approach was not an option.
That contact said I had at least an eighty percent chance of controlling him with my eyes. What happened?
He barely had time to process the failure before something else registered.
Ryū was gone.
Not retreating. Not moving somewhere he could track. Simply gone — despite the Sharingan's ability to slow perceived motion, despite every advantage the eye should have given him, the movement hadn't been visible. No corresponding ninjutsu signature. No chakra at all.
Space-time technique? But the contact said he knew no ninjutsu.
What is Uchiha Madara feeding me?
Then a hand tapped him on the shoulder.
He moved like a cat dropped in water — straight into the air, another ten meters back, hand flying to his shoulder. The feel of the contact was unmistakable.
Cold sweat traced his face.
"How — the phasing was active the entire time. But when he touched me, it was like the space around me locked. The technique couldn't engage. No chakra. Not a jutsu. Is it possible to create that kind of spatial disruption through pure physical force and speed—?"
He stopped himself.
Ryū's earlier words. The knowledge of his technique. The apparent awareness of everything that was happening.
If this person could read minds—
His plan. Uchiha Madara. His next moves. Every secret. All of it visible.
The feeling of being seen completely was new and deeply unpleasant.
First mission. Barely out the door. And I walked straight into this.
Ryū's voice reached him again.
"Unless I'm wrong, that particular eye has a time limit. Four minutes, five minutes? Sustained full combat for that long and you're in trouble. Enormous chakra drain, too — though you've got First Hokage cells, so the consumption is lighter than it should be." A pause. "Over-relying on that one eye isn't ideal, young Obito."
The name landing made Obito's face go white. Control slipped for a fraction of a second.
"How did you—"
He caught himself. Two words out already. Too late to take them back.
And this person knew. How? He was reading thoughts. He had to be. Which meant he knew about Madara. Knew the plan. Knew everything.
Ryū's expression hadn't changed.
"Your whole clan runs on extremes. Doesn't anyone in the Uchiha bloodline stop to think before acting? What you see with your eyes, what someone tells you — it isn't always the truth. You might want to consider that." He shrugged. "Not that I have any obligation to tell you any of this. The surveillance rats in the drains are already dealt with, so Madara won't know you were here. If you want answers about Rin, ask Kakashi. Trust your former teammate over someone that old and bitter."
A short silence.
"That said, using genjutsu on me was rude. Kids who are rude need a lesson. Don't you think — little chunnibyou? Obito-kun?"
What followed was not a killing blow.
Ryū disrupted the spatial vibration in the area first — enough that Kamui couldn't activate for exit — and then he gave Obito a thorough educational experience.
Every bone that could be broken without causing death was broken. First Hokage cells or not, the healing rate for injuries at this scale was measured in weeks, not hours. The hospital was probably a two-week minimum.
There was something genuinely satisfying about this, Ryū had to admit. Punishing a glass-cannon ninjutsu specialist was deeply rewarding.
As for downstream effects on the Naruto storyline — he found he didn't particularly care. He could have killed Obito and the world wouldn't have fallen apart. But at this point in the timeline, the kid hadn't actually done anything yet. His thinking had been warped by Madara, but there was still something retrievable. Protecting the development of minors was an important social value.
Do I have any standing to say that? he wondered, looking down at the thoroughly unconscious heap on the ground.
Two real Sharingan were in his hand — removed during the process. The fake one, the little glass marble with its automatic-spinning tomoe and faint red glow, had already been disposed of in the trash. No recovery value. Novelty item at best.
Great for the dark, actually. Very chunnibyou.
He considered his options. If no one came within three hours, the level of injury was serious enough that Obito's survival wasn't guaranteed.
He dropped the consideration when Observation Haki caught two familiar signatures approaching. The commotion had apparently carried.
Ryū looked at the unconscious form on the ground and shook his head.
"Lucky timing. Kakashi lives in this neighborhood, doesn't he? That was enough noise to pull him over."
The words had barely finished when two figures rounded into view.
Hatake Kakashi.
And the ever-present Might Guy.
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