Chapter 3
Reincarnation.
The concept wasn’t foreign to Obito. In fact, he had known several people who were literal reincarnations. Uchiha Madara, for example, had been a reincarnation of Ōtsutsuki Indra, the first Uchiha. Uchiha Sasuke, too, carried Indra’s legacy. Meanwhile, Senju Hashirama and Uzumaki Naruto had been reincarnations of Ashura, the younger son of Ōtsutsuki Hagoromo.
It had been a cycle—a cursed one. Indra and Ashura’s unresolved conflict over Hagoromo’s choice of Ashura as his successor perpetuated their reincarnations. Their clashing ideologies created what people called the “Curse of Hatred,” ensuring they remained enemies across generations. Hagoromo had hoped his sons’ reincarnations would one day reconcile and end the cycle, but their contrasting philosophies only prolonged the conflict.
It was fascinating in a detached way—until Zetsu explained it to him. Obito had listened, astonished, as Zetsu detailed reincarnation’s intricacies. For a fleeting moment, he imagined himself reborn, living a quiet life where he could finally find Rin. Maybe we could be happy together this time.
But Zetsu had crushed that dream. “Reincarnation isn’t for everyone,” Zetsu had said coldly. “It’s limited to Hagoromo’s sons, Indra and Ashura. Normal people like you? You die, and that’s it.”
Yet here he was.
A reincarnated person. In another world (although he doesn’t know it yet because he was sure reincarnation works in the same universe.)
Obito floated in darkness, his thoughts scattered and incoherent. So, this is what it means to be reborn. A blank slate, no memories. That was the deal, right? No memories meant true freedom. A new start.
Except… that wasn’t what happened.
Memories. He still had them. All of them.
The rockfall. The Sharingan. Rin’s death. The Fourth Ninja War. His atrocities. His regrets.
At first, the memories had been distant and fragmented, blurred around the edges. But as time passed, they sharpened, slipping into his tiny, fragile mind like shards of glass. It was agonizingly slow, as though his new brain couldn’t bear the weight of everything he’d experienced.
He had to find Joy Boy. That was his mission. He would find this supposed king, put him on the throne, and finally earn peace. Finally return to Rin.
But who was Joy Boy? Was it even a real name or just a title? Was it someone he already knew? He snorted inwardly at the idea that it could be Naruto or Sasuke’s descendants. That would be real funny.
Time crawled as an infant. There wasn’t much to do but sleep, cry, eat, and stare blankly at the ceiling. It was mind-numbing. The highlight of his day—if it could even be called that—was his battle against his new mother, who was insistent on breastfeeding him.
But Obito refused. Flatly. He was a man, damn it! A shinobi! An Uchiha! The indignity was unbearable.
His only consolation was that he still had his old name: Obito. It seemed oddly fitting, even for a new life. He shuddered at the thought of retaining his old face as well. A fresh start with that would’ve driven him insane.
It wasn’t long before he realized something was… off.
His father—if the enormous man who loomed over him could be called that—was huge. No, more than huge: colossal. His shoulders were broader than any doorway Obito had seen, his muscles bulging like mountains under his skin.
And the horns.
Obito stared, wide-eyed, the first time he saw the man. Those horns weren’t just for decoration. He’d seen his mother grab one in fury once, and it hadn’t budged an inch. Humans don’t have horns. Right?
He racked his brain for an explanation. He’d traveled far and wide as a ninja, encountering many unusual creatures, but humans with horns? That was new. Well, maybe Kisame was an exception, but… no. This was different.
Even stranger was the fact that his new family seemed to live on a ship. The ground constantly rocked beneath him, the creaking of wood and the crash of waves a constant backdrop to his existence. Who the hell lives on a ship?
One day, he managed to open his eyes fully and take in the faces of his parents. His mother, Kiyō, was striking, with her sharp black eyes and an aura that screamed don’t mess with me. She seemed perpetually irritated, but her touch was gentle when it came to him.
His father, on the other hand…
The man—no, the beast—was as loud as he was enormous. Kaido. That’s what they called him. Obito had learned that much from the constant yelling. Kaido’s booming voice could probably scare off a tailed beast.
Kaido’s attempts to play with him were clumsy and overbearing. He’d dangle some ridiculous toy in front of Obito, laughing uproariously, but Obito would just stare, unimpressed. Kaido was clearly frustrated by this, but Obito didn’t care. He refused to acknowledge the man as anything more than an annoyance.
Still, the way his mother interacted with Kaido was… intriguing. She didn’t seem to fear him, and Obito often saw her throwing objects at his head when she was annoyed. Kaido would dodge with infuriating ease, laughing as though it were all a game.
The more time Obito spent observing, the more questions he had. What kind of family is this?
But no matter how bizarre his circumstances, one thought kept him grounded.
Find Joy Boy. Put him on the throne. Then, I can finally rest.
He just had to figure out where he was—and who he was supposed to be helping.
For now, though, he’d endure. He was Uchiha Obito. He’d been through worse.
Walking. Simple enough, right? Not when you’re an infant on a swaying ship.
Obito clung to the wooden mast, his tiny hands trembling as he steadied himself. His legs—short and pudgy—wobbled under him, and every step forward felt like navigating a battlefield. The ship rocked with the waves, adding an extra layer of difficulty, but this was Uchiha Obito, the great shinobi. He could do this.
He lifted his gaze from his unsteady feet, glancing at the two people kneeling a few feet ahead of him. His parents. Both were crouched, their hands outstretched, calling to him with identical expressions of excitement and anticipation.
To his right sat Kaido, his father—a colossal man whose very presence seemed to shake the deck. His hulking frame, gray horns, tan skin, and piercing yellow eyes made him look more beast than human. Kaido was loud, overbearing, and an endless source of annoyance in Obito’s life. A drunk most of the time, Kaido wasn’t even allowed near him if he’d been drinking (a rule strictly enforced by his mother).
Speaking of his mother—Kiyō knelt on the left. Gentle, smiling, with her long black hair cascading over her shoulders and her dark eyes filled with warmth, she was the exact opposite of Kaido. She reminded Obito of the Uchiha women, which unnerved him. He knew no Uchiha survived the massacre except Sasuke, so who was she? Could she be Sasuke’s descendant? No way…
Kiyō was strikingly tall compared to the other crew members on the ship, though still much shorter than Kaido’s massive frame. Obito tried not to dwell on how such an extreme size difference resulted in him, but it was impossible not to wonder.
“Obito-chan, come here,” Kiyō called softly, her hands extended.
Before Obito could respond, Kaido butted in. “No, come to me!” He leaned forward, grinning, his sharp teeth glinting.
Kiyō shot him a glare. “You wish. Obito loves me more.”
Kaido scoffed. “That’s not true! Boys always love their amazing dads!” To prove his point, Kaido flexed his enormous muscles, the veins bulging under his skin.
Obito barely restrained a sigh. His parents were so loud. But It was a good change, he never had a living parents before.
He hesitated, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. His parents watched him intently, waiting for him to make his choice. On one side, Kaido, a mountain of a man who was more intimidating than comforting. On the other, Kiyō, warm and gentle—but prone to fits of rage, usually aimed at Kaido.
It wasn’t a hard decision.
Step by unsteady step, Obito wobbled toward Kiyō. The deck creaked under his tiny feet, but he pressed forward, determined. Kiyō’s face lit up with joy as he reached her, falling into her waiting arms. She scooped him up, spinning him in a celebratory hug.
“You did it!” she cheered, her smile radiant.
Kaido, on the other hand, looked utterly deflated. His shoulders sagged, and he muttered something under his breath. Then, in a fit of frustration, he kicked the nearest object—a crew member who had been standing too close.
Obito watched as the unfortunate man screamed, flailing as he flew over the ship’s railing and into the ocean. Yeah… I’m going to ignore that.
“This isn’t fair!” Kaido protested, folding his arms.
Kiyō, still holding Obito, smirked triumphantly. She pressed her cheek to Obito’s chubby face. “Of course, he came to me. He’s my son, after all.”
Kaido’s frown deepened. “He’s my son too! Just you wait. One day, everyone will know him as Obito, son of Kaido!”
Kiyō’s smile vanished. She turned a sharp glare on him, her voice dripping with disdain. “Excuse me? That’s not happening. He’ll be known as Rocks D. Obito!”
Kaido’s brow twitched. “Why the hell would he carry that name? He’s not Xebec’s kid!”
“He’s my kid,” Kiyō snapped. “Rocks D. is my name too. Don’t blame me because you’re a nameless orphan with no family name!”
Kaido’s vein pulsed visibly on his forehead as his anger boiled over. “What did you just say?! He’s taking my name, and that’s final!”
The tension between them thickened, the air crackling as if a storm were brewing.
Obito, meanwhile, didn’t care about his surname. In fact, he didn’t care about any names. Names are nothing and over time, he carried a couple meaningless ones, like: Uchiha Obito, Uchiha Madara, Tobi and now, apparently Rocks D./Kaido’s son? He’ll Settle with just Obito, thank you very much (in the future, he mourns for having an extra name)
He decided this was his cue to leave. As Kiyō and Kaido launched into yet another argument, he wriggled out of Kiyō’s grasp and crawled away, ignoring the rising volume of their shouting.
They’re always fighting.
It was exhausting. Were they really in love? Or was this their bizarre way of expressing affection? Either way, it didn’t seem healthy. Obito wasn’t even a real child, yet he felt secondhand embarrassment for them.
For now, he’d keep his distance. After all, being raised by these two lunatics was going to be a long, long journey.
No chakra.
The realization hit Obito like a kunai to the chest, sharp and unforgiving. It wasn’t something he could ignore anymore, though he really wished he could. Maybe he should’ve figured it out earlier—like when he was born. But no, he’d been too distracted by Kiyō’s warmth, her softness, her motherly kindness.
He hated how much he liked it.
He had never had a mother before. How could he not be curious about what everyone said was so great about them? For what it was worth, it wasn’t bad. Mothers are fine, I guess, he thought grudgingly.
But back to the point. No chakra. None at all.
It had seemed impossible at first. Everything in the shinobi world had chakra. The rocks, the trees, the animals—everything. It was as natural as breathing. But here? Not a flicker.
He remembered brushing it off when he first arrived in this new body. He’d thought he was too weak, too undeveloped to sense it. Surely, his baby brain and tiny body were to blame.
But as time passed, the truth became undeniable. He’d tried to feel it, tried to summon even the faintest spark of energy within himself. Nothing.
Obito’s heart had sunk into his stomach that day.
What kind of world is this? Is it not my world?!
No chakra meant no Sharingan. No Kamui. No jutsu. Nothing. It was like trying to breathe without air. His mind spiraled every time he thought about it. What was this place where his father was the size of a mountain with horns to match, his family lived on a perpetually swaying ship, and they only occasionally stopped on land for supplies?
That night, as the ship groaned softly under the waves, Obito tossed and turned in his bed, his thoughts racing.
Hagoromo.
Where was he? Shouldn’t he appear in a dream or something? Offer some cryptic wisdom, or at least an explanation loke the sage he is? But there was nothing. It was like shouting into the void, and the silence only deepened his unease.
I was reborn for a purpose, Obito reminded himself. He had one mission: find Joy Boy and put him on his throne. Simple enough. Except how was he supposed to do that without chakra? Without his Sharingan? Without Kamui?
His hand shot to his head, tugging at his hair in frustration. His fingers brushed against something sharp.
He froze.
Slowly, Obito ran his fingers over the strange protrusions on either side of his head. They were small but unmistakably there—hard, sharp, and smooth. A horrible thought crept into his mind, and he shoved it away, his breath quickening.
No. No, no, no.
He bolted upright, his tiny legs carrying him across the room as fast as they could. Kiyō was asleep, her breathing soft and steady, but he didn’t care. He needed answers.
The hallway was dark, the rocking of the ship making his steps unsteady, but he pressed on. His destination: the bathroom mirror.
Clambering up onto the sink, Obito stared at his reflection, his heart pounding.
The face staring back at him was… familiar. His face—Uchiha Obito’s face.
Or at least a younger version of it. Chubby with baby fat, black spiky hair, small nose, dark eyes. It was him, just… smaller.
But then there were the horns.
Tiny, white, and pointed, they jutted out from either side of his head like mocking reminders of his new reality.
Obito stared, a mix of awe and disgust twisting in his chest. He reached up, touching them hesitantly. They were real. Solid. Permanent.
Horns. Actual horns.
A small, bitter laugh escaped him. Of course, I have horns. Why wouldn’t he? His biological father, Kaido, had giant ones—practically monuments on his head. And now, apparently, Obito was cursed with them too.
They reminded him, in some twisted way, of his Ten-Tails Jinchūriki transformation. The horns had been bigger then, more grotesque, but the resemblance was there.
He sighed, his shoulders slumping. The horns were small now, barely noticeable unless you looked closely. But what about later? Would they grow? Would they become like Kaido’s massive monstrosities?
The thought sent a shiver down his spine. He imagined the weight pulling at his head, his neck straining under the burden.
No, thanks.
Obito hopped down from the sink, his tiny feet making soft thuds on the wooden floor. He leaned against the doorframe, staring into the dark hallway.
No chakra. Horns. A world he didn’t understand.
The great Uchiha Obito, reduced to this.
He made his way back to the room he shared with Kiyō, crawling into his small bed. She didn’t stir, and for a moment, he envied her ability to sleep so soundly.
Staring at the ceiling, Obito’s thoughts churned.
Fine. No chakra. Horns. A strange world. I’ll deal with it. Hagomoro.
Because no matter what, he had a mission. And no horns—or lack of chakra—would stop him from spending eternity with his Rin.
It was a calm day—unusually so. The sea stretched endlessly under the soft warmth of the sun, and the ship swayed gently with the waves. Obito stood on deck, idly kicking a ball Kaido had bought him during their last stop. The simple act helped him pass the time, though his mind was far from simple games.
Nearby, his parents sat at a makeshift table, something the crew had begrudgingly set up for them. Kiyō sipped tea and nibbled on small cakes, while Kaido downed bottle after bottle of sake, his massive frame slumped but still somehow commanding. Between them sat a newspaper, held delicately in Kiyō’s hands as she scanned its contents intently.
Delivered by a seagull, Obito thought, his brow furrowing in disbelief. A paid delivery service by a bird? That has to be the strangest thing in this world.
But strangeness had become his new normal.
The ball rolled to a stop as Obito’s attention shifted. His curiosity bubbled to the surface. He needed answers. This world was unlike anything he had ever known. No chakra. No shinobi. A bizarre crew of giants and misfits. It all felt surreal.
He had tried before to get information, sneaking peeks at the newspapers his parents left behind. But the strange, unfamiliar language had thwarted him at every turn.
Not today.
Gripping the ball tightly, Obito marched toward the table, determination in every wobbly step. He stopped beside Kiyō, who was absorbed in the paper, too focused to notice him. Kaido, however, leaned back, swigging his drink and laughing.
“How can someone live with a head like that?” he snorted, gesturing to the newspaper.
Kiyō didn’t even look up. “The same way you live with your brain lodged in your ass.”
Obito stifled a chuckle, but his patience was wearing thin. He tugged on Kiyō’s sleeve and let out a frustrated huff.
She lowered the paper, startled, her dark eyes meeting his pouty face. “What’s the matter, sweetheart?” she asked, a warm smile spreading across her lips.
Kaido chuckled, leaning closer. “The little brat probably just wants attention.”
Kiyō elbowed him sharply without breaking eye contact with Obito.
Obito pointed to the newspaper and attempted to say, as clearly as a child barely three years old could, “I… want to see.”
Kiyō’s eyes lit up with pride. “Look at you! So curious and smart, just like your mama!” She scooped him up with ease, settling him on her lap and positioning the paper so he could see.
This time, Obito had a perfect view of the headlines.
The letters meant nothing to him. Still incomprehensible. But the pictures caught his attention.
One in particular stood out—a man with impossibly long limbs and cheeks so red they looked painted. His head was absurdly elongated, his forehead wide, and his brown hair messy. He had a potato-shaped nose and wore a garish Hawaiian shirt and goggles. Most disturbingly, his tongue was extended unnaturally, nearly reaching his thigh.
Obito stared, wide-eyed, unable to suppress a gasp.
Kaido barked a laugh. “Great. Now he’s scared of the ugly nerd guy,” he said, gesturing to the photo. He leaned forward, his tone turning serious. “Listen up, kid. You don’t fear people like him. Fear is for the weak. And nerd guys like that? They’re the weakest of all. You’ve got to be strong, like me.”
Kiyō groaned. “Stop filling his head with your nonsense.” She turned to Obito, brushing a stray lock of hair from his face. “What do you want to know, sweetheart? I’ll read it to you.”
The joy of taking him seriously fleeting as Kaido cut in with a sneer. “He’s two years old. What’s he going to understand?”
Obito shot his father a withering glare.
Kaido froze, staring at the child in disbelief. “What the—did you see that look? That’s your son, Kiyō. He’s got your death glare!”
Kiyō’s face lit up with pride. “Of course he does. He’s mine.”
Ignoring them both, Obito pointed at the article with the odd man.
Kiyō smiled and began reading. “This is Dr. Vegapunk,” she explained, gesturing to the man in the picture. “He and another scientist named Vinsmoke Judge discovered something called the Lineage Factor. It’s the blueprint of life itself, found in every living creature.”
Obito tilted his head, the name sparking a distant memory. Lineage Factor? Isn’t that just… DNA?
Kaido snorted, yanking the newspaper away. “Science is boring. There’s probably better stuff in here.”
As he rifled through the pages, a small sheet slipped out and fluttered to the floor. Kiyō caught it deftly, before it hit the ground.
Since Obito was sitting on her lap, he had a perfect view of the paper. It looked like… a wanted poster?
The image depicted a man with long mustaches, tan skin, and a fierce grin. He wore a red hat with a skull emblem featuring spiral mustaches. Obito couldn’t read the text, but the large numbers at the bottom caught his attention—clearly a bounty.
Kiyō’s hand trembled as she held the poster, and Obito glanced at her, curious. Her expression surprised him. It was a mix of admiration and excitement. Does she know this man?
Before Obito could ask, Kiyō exclaimed, “Hey, Kaido! Look!” She held up the poster for him to see, her voice brimming with enthusiasm.
Kaido’s face lit up with a similar excitement as he took the poster from her, examining it like a child gazing at a hero’s portrait. “Roger’s incredible,” he muttered, his grin widening. “He’d better wait for me. I’m going to surpass him one day!”
Obito tilted his head. “Roger?” he asked, the name foreign to him.
Kiyō smiled down at him and explained, “Gold Roger. He’s the most famous pirate right now.” Then, as if it were nothing, she added, “He’s also the man who killed your grandfather—my father.”
Obito blinked, his confusion deepening.
Kiyō continued, her tone casual. “Oh, Garp The Fist helped too, but Roger’s the important one. Garp’s just a filthy Marine.” She spoke with an odd lightness, as though admiring the man who had killed her father was the most natural thing in the world.
Pirates? Marines? Obito’s mind reeled. “Marine?” he repeated, trying to piece it together.
Kiyō chuckled at his confused expression. Kaido, smirking, handed the poster to Obito. “You wouldn’t understand, kid,” he said with a hint of mockery. “Captain Xebec was a real monster. Can’t decide if you’re lucky or cursed to have his blood running through your veins.”
Obito processed the words, piecing together the basics. Rocks D. Xebec was Kiyō’s father, a pirate, and Kaido’s captain… who apparently both of them hate because they’re fangirling over the man who killed him?
“Pirate,” Obito repeated, his curiosity growing. “What is it?”
Kaido blinked, then snorted. “Oh, right. You’re just a dumb kid.”
Kiyō shot him a glare. “Obito’s smarter than a million Kaidos put together!” she snapped, making Kaido visibly bristle.
Turning back to Obito, Kiyō softened her voice and smiled. “Listen carefully, sweetheart.” She held up two fingers. “The world has three main groups of people: ordinary citizens, the World Government, and pirates.”
Kaido interjected with a sneer. “Ordinary people are useless idiots. Don’t waste your time thinking about them.”
Kiyō shrugged, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. “The World Government is an alliance of over 170 nations. They control most of the world and claim to maintain justice and peace. They also have a military branch called the Marines, whose job is to enforce laws and hunt down pirates.”
Kaido scoffed loudly in the background, clearly unimpressed. Kiyō ignored him and continued, “Pirates, on the other hand, are criminals who sail the seas, raiding ships and doing whatever they please. Most pirates belong to crews—groups of like-minded outlaws.”
Kaido grinned, flexing his muscles. “Pirates like me and you mom!”
Obito’s mouth hung open as he clutched Roger’s wanted poster. The enormity of the revelation left him speechless.
Kaido glanced at him and raised a brow. “Think he understood a word of that?”
Kiyō hesitated, then nodded firmly. “Of course he did. He’s my brilliant son.”
Kaido deadpanned. “Great. Because it looks like you broke him.”