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Obito had grown accustomed to the strange personalities of the White Zetsu. Their odd humor and unsettling mannerisms no longer distracted him.
His thoughts were entirely focused on Menma. The young Uzumaki had taken Kakashi's Sharingan—the very eye that once belonged to him. Though it had yet to be returned to its original owner, Kakashi and Menma were different in one fundamental way.
That eye wasn't just a tool—it was a fragment of Obito's past, a reminder of the boy he used to be.
He had gifted the Sharingan to Kakashi in a moment of raw, unfiltered emotion. It symbolized the last trace of his humanity and his bond with his former comrades. Despite everything, Obito could never bring himself to reclaim it. The thought of killing Kakashi, of severing that last connection to the past, was something he could hardly bear.
The Sharingan was a power desired throughout the ninja world, a power countless others would fight for. But even after descending into darkness, Obito had left it in Kakashi's care. He'd had chances to retrieve it many times over the years, but he never acted on them. From the moment of his "fall" until the eve of the Fourth Great Ninja War, he had resisted.
But now, things had changed.
"Obito," came Black Zetsu's voice, a tinge of impatience in its tone, "I've told you before—you should have taken back that eye long ago. Didn't Madara's records clearly state that the true power of the Mangekyō Sharingan is only unlocked when both eyes are reunited? You've hesitated too long. Not only have you limited yourself, but now that brat Menma has it. He probably doesn't even know it's a Mangekyō Sharingan. If he misuses it, or worse—damages it—it'll be beyond recovery!"
Zetsu, the manifestation of Madara's will, sounded deeply irritated. As Obito's closest ally, Zetsu found his attachment to the past an ongoing frustration. Thirteen years had passed since Obito should have retrieved that eye, and Zetsu had raised the matter more times than he cared to remember.
Now, Menma Uzumaki, a dangerous unknown, possessed Kakashi's eye. If he used it as Danzō did—as nothing more than a tool—it could be destroyed.
Obito didn't have a sibling with whom he could awaken the Eternal Mangekyō Sharingan. If he lost this eye, it would be gone forever.
"If it's lost, it's lost," Obito replied coldly, though his voice betrayed the faintest hint of inner conflict. "One eye won't change the outcome of our plans. I'll manage."
Obito knew it was a mistake. Leaving the eye with Kakashi had been a sign of weakness, a flaw he couldn't purge from himself. But a single Mangekyō wouldn't alter the grand scheme. As long as the Ten-Tails was resurrected, their objective would remain secure.
"Is that truly what you believe?" Zetsu pressed. "Are you prepared to abandon that eye? You still have time. You could retrieve it now, along with the Nine-Tails. Menma can't fully control the Nine-Tails' chakra yet. If you act quickly, the Sharingan and the Nine-Tails would both be within your reach. That child wouldn't stand a chance."
Obito fell silent, pacing as he considered Zetsu's words.
Was the Akatsuki ready to strike?
Technically, yes. The organization had already begun preparations to capture the tailed beasts. If he wished, they could proceed.
Menma Uzumaki, only twelve years old, was vulnerable. If Pain—if Nagato—chose to confront him, the likelihood of success was high. With all nine tailed beasts sealed in the Gedo Statue, the Ten-Tails would rise, and Madara could be restored to complete the plan.
But Obito hesitated, sensing that the timing wasn't quite right.
"No," he replied at last, his voice resolute. "The capture of the tailed beasts must unfold slowly, with precision. Nagato won't move unless he's certain of success. The Great Nations are growing more fractured by the day. If we provoke further conflicts among them, it will weaken them, making our work even easier. We have no need to rush."
Obito exhaled, his anger at Menma simmering beneath the surface. The Sharingan mattered little in comparison to the Moon Eye Plan.
In that new world—a world of dreams and peace—Rin would live on forever.
"It's possible Menma has already destroyed the eye," Obito continued, his tone hardening. "And launching the plan early only for it to fail would be far worse than losing one eye."
Black Zetsu's gaze darkened. "Then the eye is likely lost for good."
Obito's expression tightened behind his mask. "If it is, it is. It won't alter our destiny."
"But," Obito added, voice chilling, "keep close watch on Orochimaru and Menma. I want to know their every move. If an opportunity arises, I'll reclaim the Sharingan—and the Nine-Tails along with it."
Zetsu inclined its head, a strange smile crossing its face. "As you wish, Obito."
"No," Obito corrected, his voice a cold whisper. "I am Madara."
For a moment, Black Zetsu hesitated, then bowed deeply. "Of course, Madara-sama."
With a fluid motion, Zetsu sank into the ground, vanishing from sight.
To Black Zetsu, the eye was of little concern; the real objective was resurrecting the Ten-Tails and casting the Infinite Tsukuyomi. Everything else could be managed along the way.
For now, the Sharingan was gone. In the current world, none understood the true potential of the Mangekyō Sharingan.
But neither Obito nor Zetsu knew that Menma was a time traveler—someone who already knew how the story would unfold. And that Sharingan would eventually lead Obito to a reckoning he couldn't foresee.
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Menma, still operating in the Land of Grass, was unaware that he might be able to sidestep a potential confrontation with Obito.
When he had taken Kakashi's Sharingan, Menma had anticipated the risks. He knew that Obito's Kamui was a formidable technique—while not invincible, it was notoriously difficult to counter. Menma's strategy focused on gaining control of the Mangekyō Sharingan Obito had gifted to Kakashi, providing him with an edge.
The Kamui dimension connected through both eyes, giving Menma a unique opportunity. If he could learn to manipulate this shared space, Obito's ability to phase through attacks would become meaningless.
Without Kamui, what would Obito have left? In Menma's mind, Obito was just an elite Jōnin, perhaps bordering on Kage level, but hardly the unstoppable force he seemed with his Mangekyō. Without both his Mangekyō Sharingan, Obito couldn't even activate Susano'o.
After all, even Minato Namikaze had managed to seriously injure Obito by deciphering the mechanics of Kamui. And this was back when Obito's mastery of his Mangekyō Sharingan was less refined. Later, in his battle with Konan, Obito had been forced to rely on Izanagi, sacrificing an eye to escape—a clear sign of his limitations.
As for his rumored defeat of Yagura, the Fourth Mizukage and perfect Jinchūriki of the Three-Tails, Menma suspected Nagato, through Pain, had done most of the heavy lifting. Obito had likely swooped in afterward, using his Sharingan to control Yagura.
If Obito could truly defeat a Jinchūriki on his own, would he have resorted to Izanagi against a non-Jinchūriki like Konan? Would he have allowed her the time to set up her Paper Ocean technique? If he were that powerful, he could have immobilized her with a simple genjutsu.
In short, Obito wasn't invincible. With the level of mastery Menma had over the Nine-Tails' chakra—enough to access four or even five tails—he felt confident he could face Obito head-on. He held an invaluable advantage: knowledge of Obito's true identity, techniques, and vulnerabilities.
While Obito believed himself to be the master manipulator pulling the strings, Menma, with his foresight, was the true wildcard lurking in the shadows.
An early confrontation didn't bother Menma; in fact, he welcomed it. The risks were worth it. Capturing Obito's Mangekyō Sharingan was an opportunity too valuable to pass up.
Three days passed swiftly. The day of the meeting had arrived.
"We're meeting there?" Menma gave Orochimaru a questioning glance as they exited their hidden base. "I thought you'd set it up closer to one of our strongholds."
Orochimaru chuckled, his raspy voice carrying a hint of amusement. "The Third Tsuchikage has shown goodwill, Menma-kun. Shouldn't we do the same? Although, if you'd prefer somewhere else, I'm sure Lord Ōnoki would be open to adjusting the location."
Menma raised an eyebrow, studying Orochimaru's face. "No need. Just making an observation."
Orochimaru's lips curled into a wider grin, his snake-like eyes glinting with hidden amusement. "Very well. Shall we go, then? We wouldn't want to keep our… guests waiting."
"Guests? I see." Menma smirked, catching the hint in Orochimaru's tone. "Let's not keep them waiting, then."
With that, Menma and Orochimaru set out, making their way toward the designated meeting point near Kannabi Bridge—an iconic landmark in the original timeline where Uchiha Obito had "died" and Kakashi had inherited the Sharingan.
The location carried symbolic weight for both Konoha and Iwagakure, making it a suitable place for a clandestine meeting between two factions with their own agendas.
"Kannabi Bridge, huh? This should be interesting," Menma mused as they neared their destination.
Meanwhile, in a different part of the Land of Earth, Onoki, the Third Tsuchikage, and his son Kitsuchi were gliding across the terrain. Onoki, utilizing his Flight Technique, made the journey appear effortless despite his age.
As the longest-reigning Kage, Onoki's chakra reserves were formidable, allowing him to cover vast distances with ease. Within hours, they had crossed the Land of Earth's border and were nearing the meeting spot.
Soon enough, Onoki spotted two figures waiting ahead. His sharp eyes fell upon the younger of the two—Uzumaki Menma. The sight of the red-haired shinobi stirred a flicker of curiosity in the old Tsuchikage.
"So, that's Uzumaki Menma," Onoki muttered, his eyes narrowing as he assessed the figure ahead.
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