one_long_mission | how did this even happen...

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how did this even happen...

It wasn't a bad sort of place. Lots of things to do and people to see. Plenty of freedom to dart over the rooftops and down the alleys--or out of the village and into the woods and rocky wild places beyond. Obito liked Michi no Sato.

He had stopped for lunch and was eating at a table outside the restaurant, watching people walk past. The food was good. The cold breeze was nice. Ah, yes. Years and years trapped in a cave with a crazy old man and a bunch of plant monsters--it had left him really able to appreciate the little things.

[ooc: here is an AU Obito in his twenties. Got through the time with Madara, and Rin's death, but didn't go completely evil after all of it...]

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"Yes..." Itachi answered. Although he took the burden and the infamy upon himself, he did have help that night. "The real leader of the Akatsuki. He called himself Madara."

A pause. "Well, in my world that man does not lead the Akatsuki. And when Itachi found him, they came to a different sort of arrangement. There was not a genocide, but an exodus. Most of the clan left Konoha and settled elsewhere."

He looked away, and then back again. "When I said that the massacre was not entirely avoided, what I meant is that before the village and the clan settled on an agreement, many lives were lost in a single night. But most of them were not Uchiha..."

It had been, in fact, the sort of violence within the village that the massacre had been committed to avoid. Bloody, violent, awful. Though it had not lasted long. Obito had seen to that.

Itachi slumped back in his chair. His mind was spinning through this alternative scenario. Could that have actually worked? Or would it have led to more bloodshed? He wasn't sure.

"... What happened to Sasuke?"

"He's with his mother and father in the new settlement." Obito shrugged. "He'll lead the clan after Fugaku, probably."

He pictured his little brother, growing up beside his family. Someone to watch over him. Someone to protect him and care for him. He laughed a little under his breath, but it wasn't natural. It was nervous, more like crying than laughing.

It didn't even register at first that Obito hadn't included him in that mental picture. If he wasn't with Sasuke...

"... Did... I stay behind?"

After a moment, Obito shook his head. "No. You went against orders from the village, so there was no place for you there. And I believe you had... other reasons for not staying with the Uchiha. Though you never told them to me."

He looked down at the broken cup and began to pick the shattered pieces of it up with careful fingers. "You're a missing-nin, in my world. As I believe you are in yours. Just, for different reasons."

It seemed he still had much to sacrifice, regardless of the circumstances. But to know that there could have been a way to spare their lives or to spare Sasuke the pain of growing up alone and vengeful... It was still a crushing blow to a man who forcefully kept himself alive solely to finish what he started that night.

"I am... for what it's worth now."

Obito stood and flicked the pieces of the broken cup away. He swept his hands together a few times and then stood looking down at Itachi. Just observing him.

"Why did it bother you so?"

He leaned against the table, head in his hands.

"Why did it... I killed them, cousin. I killed all of them." his voice broke in points of desperation. "I broke Sasuke's heart, shattered his mind, put him through hell just so I could die at his hands."

He was shaking as he stood to face Obito.

"I did everything I could. I gave everything I had for seven years... never once questioning the decision I made. I couldn't! Couldn't! Because it had to work. It had to go according to plan... or else... or else..."

Obito stepped forward and took the other man's head in his hands. He wasn't sure if the touch would be welcome, or not. But it's what he would have done for his own Itachi. And he shushed and petted him, pushing the hair back from his face.

But he didn't have any other comfort to give, really. In his world, Itachi had had another option--because Obito had been there to give it to him. This Itachi had obviously taken the path that he thought was best. But oh, what damage it had done...

Itachi stumbled back, away from his cousin's touch. He almost fell, but caught himself against a pillar.

"If you would have lived... in my world... I would have killed you too."

It was a warning wrapped in self-loathing.

Obito stayed where he was, folding his arms across his chest, watching the other Uchiha. Would it matter if he told him the truth? ...No, he thought. In fact, he could only really see it making things worse.

"Perhaps," was all he said. "Or something else might have killed me, before or after. These things are complicated."

"The only way you wouldn't have would..."

Suddenly Itachi stopped. The color disappeared from his face, and he grabbed onto the podium to keep himself from dropping where he stood.

The one eye. The mask... with one eye... The man calling himself Madara... It was him. (Well, not him, but it was Obito.) He was the one pulling the strings in the Akatsuki. He was the one who assisted with the massacre. He was the one Itachi bargained with to ensure the village wouldn't be attacked.

"You... you're Madara..."

He didn't move, nor did his expression shift. But there was suddenly a tension in him--a dangerous edge, a slow flare of chakra. Momentarily, it was clear that he was a man who was powerful, and deadly, and cold. That he could kill easily, kill many, and feel nothing. But it was gone again, as smoothly and quickly as it had come. Hidden. He shook his head.

"I'm a version of him," he answered quietly.

Itachi noticed the subtle change in his chakra. And for that brief moment, he felt that malicious intent. His mangekyo activated on instinct, but he didn't attack.

Obito didn't move. Part of him wanted... but, no. He would fight if he was attacked, but otherwise.

"I mean no harm. We're friends, where I'm from." More or less--it was complicated, with his own Itachi.

"Where I'm from, we most certainly are not."

He knew, though, that this man was from an entirely different world, an entirely different reality. He was likely telling the truth about his motives. But there was something about him that made him very wary.

He only nodded. It was wise, after all, for this man to be cautious.

He kept his eyes fixed on Obito.

"In your world, I was merely a traitor. In mine, I was a murderer." he hissed coldly. "Do not force me to be that here... If you are anything... anything like him... "

Unfortunately, with his sharingan, Obito could probably see that the threat was empty. Itachi simply didn't have the stamina to back it up. But if pressed, he would likely try, even if it killed him.

This was interesting. A threat, a chance to fight. His own mangekyou was active and bright. This Itachi was far gone in--illness, it seemed like. Some internal hurt. And burdened by his past, on top of all of that. Hmm.

"I'll tell you a secret. I am like him." His gaze didn't shift. "Very much like him, I suspect. But my choices weren't the same. So." He shrugged.

Now, it was a staring match.

(Which, between Uchiha, is actually quite a dangerous thing.)

He watched him. Stared, waited.

"I don't want to hurt you," he said, at length. "I'm not the man you hate, Itachi. Not exactly. And even if I was, why fight him?"

It was clear Itachi wasn't going to make the first move either. That would be foolish.

"...I don't know that for certain." he insisted. And it was true. After hearing what Obito had to say, there was actually a lot he didn't know for certain anymore.

He stayed quiet and still for a moment before smirking. And, finally, taking a few steps backwards. Truly he didn't want to hurt this Itachi, if he had a choice. If only out of love for his own version.

"Well. It's wise enough of you to assume I'm lying." He said.

Itachi couldn't help but feel guilty for that assumption, no matter how wise and prudent it was. He faced the same dilemma with nearly everyone he'd met so far. A pacifistic murderer? His reputation as a missing-nin always trumped. And his real motives... They weren't exactly believable.

Now, he thought to himself, if he could have saved his family somehow... they weren't exactly forgivable either.

He met Obito's actions, step for step, slowly backing himself toward the street. His eyes, of course, never lost focus.

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