Tobi's Tale

Obito jolted awake, his mind racing, almost throbbing with all the thoughts swirling through his mind like they were determined to force their way out and make his head burst. His breathing was frantic, his heart thudded loudly in his chest, and he was tangled in his bedsheets, clutching at them with a white knuckled grip. Shudders of fear and the jitters of paranoia ran through his fatigued, sleep deprived body causing his eyes to light up with glowing red and scan the room for threats. Nothing. It was just another nightmare.

He lay awake in bed trying to determine whether he wanted to risk going back to sleep or suffer and leave the comfort of his warm bed. His breathing had returned to normal and his body wasn’t quivering in terror so there seemed no point in getting up. He glanced up the clock on the far wall and huffed. It was nearly three in the morning. He had only slept nearly two and a half hours after he had abandoned Konan and to be honest, he felt he probably deserved the restlessness.

“Ugh. No sugar before bed,” he groaned curling up further into the bedsheets. The man maneuvered to try and get comfortable again, pulling the blanket up from around his legs to cover himself and nestle soundly into it. He sighed dreamily and nuzzled the ridiculously fuzzy, orange blanket only to find himself too jittery to sleep. He huffed in annoyance and sat up in the bed, draping the blanket over his shoulders and yawning thunderously in the tiny quarters.

The Uchiha decided to get up and do something, anything to calm himself down. He could meditate but he didn’t quite feel like meditating. He couldn’t quite put his finger on why, but after experiencing one of his night terrors, he decided he didn’t want to stay in the tiny room for very much longer. Food helped and interacting with other people helped, but mainly Deidara. Obito quite enjoyed watching the blond man boil over with rage at his remarks and quips towards the artist. World domination and death couldn’t change that and the Iwa nin’s reactions were infinitely more satisfying than Kakashi’s, though he never had been able to quite pull the wool over the arrogant prodigy’s eye. At this point though, the artist was likely asleep but most of the Akatsuki kept strange hours regardless of that. Food it is then.

Obito got dressed in record time, forgoing his cloak and wearing his black clothing instead. It would warm quickly to his skin, thankfully. On a cool autumn night, you needed warm clothes.

The determined shinobi went into the kitchen with the intent to raid it of sugary goodness. He checked the cupboards and was greeted by a loaf of bread and various knickknacks. Really? What kind of dinglehopper is this? With dissatisfaction marring his face behind his mask he shut the door and moved on to the pantry. There were no sugary snacks to be found. He narrowed his eyes, glaring heatedly at the shelves of boxes and can neatly organized and obviously mocking him and his lack of junk food. He stood there for a moment, trying to shoot lasers or some version of Itachi’s Amaterasu to destroy the evil dry goods, but unfortunately, he was limited to one awesome eye ability. He slammed the pantry shut almost forceful and snarled angrily before whipping around and checking the fridge.

“Fish. Meat. Something that looks like clay, or something? Ew, broccoli. Milk,” he lifted his mask and whiffed it quickly, gagging. “Even more disgusting!” He closed the door, removing the rotten milk and indifferently depositing it in the trash can. Obito was frustrated, he knew they had to have junk food around there somewhere, but where? He crossed his arms and tapped his foot as he contemplated what he should do to get his fix, as if he was addicted to a narcotic. In his defense, having a considerable sweet tooth ran in the Uchiha family, yet it didn’t make them any sweeter, unfortunately.

The gears turned and clicked into place, unlocking a brilliant idea, he could bake something. It had been ages, well not that long, but it had been a lengthy amount of time since he had baked anything at all. He could remember the first time he had baked anything, enthusiastically ‘helping’ his kindly grandmother around the kitchen. She had allowed him to help by pouring in ingredients, getting to be the taster, and to stand around squinting at the oven as if it would speed up the process. He chuckled softly in his reminiscing. It would have been so much cleanlier if Obito hadn’t helped his granny with her chores, but he assumed that he got his fondness for helping people from that and the warm, open heart that his granny had possessed. Yes, he was much like her in his youth and oh how far he had veered from that path since then. That time was seemingly a lifetime ago.

It was settled; he was definitely going to bake something sweet! Hopefully, that’d get his mind off of the darkness and monsters and junk food-thieving co-workers. Although, it was possible he had eaten it all before he went to bed, but a box of cookies or two, or possibly half a dozen, wasn’t really that concerning, even if he had conveniently forgotten. Regardless of the fact he should have a raging stomachache, determination flared within the ex-Konoha nin, blazing within him, pushing towards his ambition, to bake sweets!

Obito grinned and rushed to the fridge to grab… he paused. “Damn it. I need milk,” he grumbled haplessly, still trifling through the fridge to check for ingredients. He pouted and huffed as he backed out of the fridge, “No, I need everything!” He grunted in frustration and muttered angrily to himself before he made a mental checklist on what he would need, recalling a shop that was open around the clock.

The Uchiha decided it couldn’t be helped and went to his room to grab his cloak and fastened it on before searching around for his wallet. It had to be in his room somewhere! After several minutes of searching, he came up emptyhanded. He whimpered disdainfully, but you don’t understand, Tobi is sweet so Tobi needs sweets to obtain his sweet, perky persona. Dango and cakes definitely worked better than coffee or tea, of any variety, even the foreign black tea that he had grown fond of.

The shinobi decided to backtrack and extend his search perimeter further into the base. He wandered around, looking under tables, digging within cushions, and searching every nook, corner, and cranny. The Uchiha pouted more prominently, “Oooooh! I need to find my wallet!”

“Tobi, what the hell are you doing, un,” a blond grumbled from behind him, surprising the Uchiha which caused the masked man to hit his head against the top of the dining room table.

The masked man sat up and rubbed the top of his injured skull and sniffled exaggeratedly before directing his attention to the ex-Iwagakure shinobi. “Ah, senpai! Er, Tobi lost his wallet,” he muttered softly, reverting back to ‘giant man-child’ mode around the blond man.

Tobi’s senpai crossed his arms over his chest and scoffed, “Is it the one sitting on the kitchen counter from earlier?”

Tobi’s eyes lit up and the masked man leapt off the floor and in the blink of an eye, he returned with the small brown leather wallet, worn around the corners with age and years of riding around in the Uchiha’s pocket. “Thank you, senpai! You’re such a good senpai; the best senpai,” Tobi cried with glee, rushing over to hug the shorter blond man who immediately went on the defensive.

“Touch me and you’re dead,” he hissed, effectively repelling the masked man. The blond relaxed and raised a brow in annoyance, “What the hell are you doing up so late and looking for your wallet? All of your running around has put Master Sasori in a sour mood and unlike you, I have to room with him, un. I’d rather not experience his temper, Tobi.”

Tobi tilted his head and observed the blond shinobi before he happily quipped up, “Sorry, Deidara-senpai! Tobi wanted to go shopping to make dango!” He grinned vibrantly behind his mask and added, “Because dango is sweet just like Tobi, but Tobi also wants to make cakes because Tobi is a good boy, senpai!”

Deidara groaned, “It’s too late to be so loud, idiot. You already woke me up, un, but I think I’d like some dango to make up for it.” Obito noticed that the blond was in a grey shirt, black sweatpants, and his Akatsuki robe, hurriedly put over the top. He made note to avoid Sasori as well.

“Will senpai help me shop,” Tobi asked softly, pleading, “please senpai? I’ll make you dango too!” Obito only went out when it was absolutely necessary, especially since he was so uncomfortable about the way people stared at him. You could probably attribute it to anxiety or paranoia or whatever you’d like, but whenever he left the hideout and was around people, he’d still try to put on a good façade and be just as courteous and attentive as ever but the feeling that people would see his face and shun him in terror or that they would recognize him as the man that tried to destroy the world, well, that feeling never went away, just like the feeling of eyes burning into him wherever he went. He didn’t sweat that one so much though because he’d eventually remedy that problem.

Deidara glanced behind him, back in the directions of the Akatsuki dorms, then back to Tobi. He seemed to be weighing his options. Which one was the worse evil, an angry Sasori trying to work, or a socially inept man-child that can’t shop by himself without causing some kind of issue (usually embarrassment on Deidara’s part)? “So you mentioned dango, un,” Deidara mused, his lip twitching as if he wasn’t sure whether to grin and bear it or he wanted to blow something up. Possibly both.

“Yup.”

“Hmph. Alright, I’ll go, but I’m in charge,” Deidara commanded with ease and began heading for the stairwell door with Tobi happily trailing behind him.

By the time they made it down Pein’s Tower and to the grocery, it was about a quarter past the hour. Tobi gazed at the flashing neon sign stating ‘open’ in bright kanji, the red and blue light shining and blinking over his mask that hid his discomfort and alarm. The blond glanced at the taller man, annoyed with his hesitation.

“Tobi, what are you waiting for, un? We made it here, so let’s go already,” he groaned with a scowl.

The Uchiha just stood there idly. “Go… inside, senpai,” he murmured questionably, paling and unsure.

“That’s why we’re here, isn’t it, idiot,” Deidara growled, beginning to lose his patience with the orange-masked man. He had already been woken up by the obnoxious shinobi’s antics and was more than ready to wash his hands of him. The only reasons he even ventured out were firstly, to avoid Danna’s temper and secondly, he rather enjoyed a warm meal that he didn’t have to pay for, even if he wasn’t overly fond of sweets. He personally preferred savory meals and spicy, enticing dishes, his favorite meal being bakudan.

Tobi became flustered and shuddered before shakily answering, “O-Okay, senpai.” He timidly followed Deidara into the store, slipping in the door before it could close on him. It wasn’t an act, oh no! Obito was a people person. People liked him for his ability to keep up a conversation and smile so brightly that the clouds of gloom dissipated into nothingness. That wasn’t really the case now that he had gotten older. He may be in his thirties in this lifetime, and maybe he went through another lifetime already, but he never went shopping and he always worried about people seeing his hideously scarred face and prosthetics. He wasn’t exactly easy on the eyes anymore and coupled with not having gone shopping in years, since joining the Akatsuki, a little anxiety was called for. Well, that and he was still worried that somehow people would discover who he was.

The bells above the door chimed whimsically and a clerk looked up from her unpacking, failing when she saw the pair. Deidara calmly carried on, taking notice but more determined to get the Uchiha out of the store. Tobi stood stock-still as the clerk approached.

“Good evening, Mask-san,” the clerk greeted, bowing in acknowledgement causing the shinobi to bow back, albeit, unspeaking. “I apologize,” she stated softly, “but it’s not permitted to wear your mask inside the store. I’m going to have to ask you to, um, take it off?”

Tobi flinched slightly. Off? Take the mask off? “Er, sorry! Um, Tobi is a good boy,” he chimed, pointing to himself with his raised thumb. “Tobi won’t do naughty things, but he wears the mask because Tobi isn’t nearly as pretty as you, Ten’in-san!”

The young sales person flushed and crossed her arms stubbornly. “I’m sorry, but you have to take it off. It’s the rules, Mask-san,” she said more firmly, making the Uchiha’s flirtation fall flat.

The Uchiha stared at the tiny sales clerk for a moment, making her bristle with nervousness. Deidara turned back and watched the exchange, raising his eyebrow with interest, observing the masked man with anticipation. Would he do it? He decided to push him, “Just take off the damn mask, Tobi, un!”

The Uchiha turned to look at the blond, pouting behind his orange mask. He imagined himself slapping the blond like he himself has been assaulted by the ex-Iwa shinobi. He huffed in displeasure and bowed again to the cute store clerk. “Okay! I’ll be right back,” he chirped and headed back out the entry door.

Deidara groaned in disgust and followed after the orange masked man. Annoying masked idiot! Why did I bother?

He searched the sidewalk for the man, but he wasn’t outside the immediate storefront. “Tobi? Tobi where the hell did you go, un,” he snarled in frustration, not wanting to put in much effort. He heard the sound of a jutsu activating around the corner of the building and immediately rounded it in curiosity, only to see the back of Tobi’s dark head with no sign of a strap wrapping around it. His breath stilled. The blond had been curious to know what the masked man’s face looked like ever since he had met the guy. Now seemed to be the moment of truth.

“Tobi,” he murmured, beholding the previously masked man.

Tobi whipped around to face the blond, a grin plastered on his lips. “Hey, senpai! How do I look,” he beamed, rubbing the back of his head in nervousness. Only, there were no horrendous scars or even black Uchiha eyes. He had used a transformation jutsu.

“If you look like that, why’d you hide you face to begin with, un? It seems rather pointless,” Deidara stated blandly. He could hardly blink as he absorbed the man’s expression and gorgeously effeminate facial features.

Tobi screwed up his face and pouted, “Well, actually, funny story, senpai. This… isn’t Tobi’s face.” The corner of his lips twitched, the small mole above his chin making the expression on the borrowed visage appear endearing and somewhat adorable. Especially with clear blue eyes.

Deidara suspected he wouldn’t be winning that argument with Hidan. “Okay… why the face then, un?”

Tobi looked pensive for a moment, making Deidara feel even more suspicious, “A good tradesman never reveals his secrets. I can’t tell you.” He beamed once more at the blond who became increasingly more annoyed.

“Fine whatever, Tobi. Let’s just get this over with. I want to go home, un,” the blond snarled, leading the taller man back into the store. He wasn’t disappointed, well, too much. He’d find out what the man looked like eventually.

Tobi waved cheerfully at the tiny store clerk and picked up a hand basket, “’Kay, senpai! Let’s shop!” The pair wandered through the store, the masked man picking up the ingredients he needed for his baking spree. The store was relatively small so it shouldn’t have taken very long, but Deidara was rather amused by the turn of events.

“I didn’t know you could bake, or cook at all for that matter, un,” Deidara remarked as the other man compared brands of rice flour.

The other man raised an eyebrow but didn’t turn around, too preoccupied to take a gander at his companion’s expression. “Why’s that, senpai? I’m a great cook,” the Uchiha murmured, the pitch slightly lowered from his Tobi persona.

“Because you’re usually an idiot, un,” the blond stated bluntly.

Obito held in his laughter and steeled his face, “Ah, but being an idiot in one thing leaves Tobi more room to think about other things, senpai!” He carefully deposited one of the bags into his hand basket and smirked at the blond who was caught off-guard by the masked man’s cleverness.

Deidara rolled his eyes, “Whatever. How’d you learn how to cook then, un?” “I learned a long time ago, but I pick up things here and there,” he answered vaguely as they went down the aisle, stealthily snagging a bag of katakuriko without pausing down the aisle and slipping it into the basket.

“Funny,” Deidara remarked begrudgingly, catching on with the masked man’s humor. Tobi and puns went hand-in-hand.

Tobi stopped and tapped his chin as if in thought, humming. “Should I make cakes for breakfast, senpai?”

“Only if you want to be the one making them, un. I don’t think anyone else can cook, just you, unfortunately,” Deidara replied. Tobi popped a bag of regular flour into the basket. “Why’d you learn how to cook, un? Don’t they usually just teach girls?”

Tobi hummed and glanced over his shoulder at the blond, “Isn’t that a little rude to say, senpai?” The taller man frowned and raised a brow, waiting for the ex-Iwa nin’s response.

“What? No, I didn’t mean that. One of my teammates couldn’t cook anything without burning it, un. I suspect she still can’t,” Deidara belted back at the Uchiha. “My question is why you wanted to learn. Cooking isn’t exactly very cool, un,” he inquired more softly.

“Oh! Tobi can answer that, senpai,” Tobi chirped as they rounded a corner, passing by another store clerk. “Well, senpai, think of it like your art,” he stated, much to Deidara’s chagrin. The blond gritted his teeth and clenched his fists, his eyes livid in his fury, but before he could reprimand the Uchiha, he cut in, “Cooking and baking are kind of like your art too, they’re um…” He snapped his fingers as he fished for the word, “Ah! Fleeting! I like to cook because you can make it different every time and it’s beneficial, oh and Tobi likes sweets! Tobi is sweet!” He purred and went onto the next aisle to get syrup and jams for the cakes. It was amazing how understocked they were. He wondered what his comrades planned to do with the food in fridge and cupboards, but it was best not to ponder that. They had servants anyways that could cook on a different floor, so maybe that was the plan?

Deidara calmed down and huffed away his excess anger as he chewed over that new bit of information and mumbled something, probably swearing before he responded, “I guess you’re right, but that remains to be seen! An artist is proud of his art and I’ve never seen you cook, un.”

The Uchiha shrugged, “I guess you’ll have to see then, eh, senpai?”

The pair finished up shortly after that, Tobi carrying all the bags on his own whilst holding the receipt in his hand, making concerned sounds while Deidara hummed and chuckled in amusement. “Maybe you’ll think twice about being ‘Mister Nice Guy’ next time, un,” he smirked at the Uchiha.

“Ugh… senpai, I think Kakuzu might just kill me,” the masked man said deflatedly, his arms laden with bags of ingredients and snacks. He hung his head, his expression once again unreadable behind his mask.

“I never spend anything on them, un. At least Kakuzu probably won’t chase you for spending your own money, Tobi,” the blond remarked.

“Yeah,” the masked man sighed. “Wait, what do you mean, probably?!”

The pair managed to make it back, without being mauled by tentacled misers, to Tobi’s relief and Deidara’s amusement. The moment they had gotten to the dormitory floor of Pein’s Tower, Tobi slipped off his cloak and got to work. He began by un-bagging all of his ingredients as Deidara took up residence by the door.

“Wouldn’t it be easier to take your mask off, Tobi,” he mused as the masked man hunted for a steamer. He knew there was one in this kitchen somewhere.

“I wouldn’t be Tobi if I took off the mask, senpai. For all you know, the mask is ‘Tobi’ and I am no one but a ‘masked’ man,” the Uchiha stated, pulling out a steamer and setting it on the counter before getting to work.

“That’s a stupid reason, un,” the teen fumed, crossing his arms and watching as the Uchiha began the process of bringing out all the equipment and tools he needed.

Obito contained his own annoyance but enjoyed the company, although it made him long for Kakashi’s presence. Deidara was the second best option to get him out of his current funk. He was scolding, scrutinizing, brash, and called him names, kind of like Kakashi, but Kakashi wasn’t outright violent towards him like Deidara could be when pushed far enough. Being homesick wouldn’t do though. The Uchiha sighed and went back to the mostly uncovered groceries, pulling out a can of oden among the junk food.

Deidara’s eyes lit up in wonder as the Uchiha handed it to him, the mouth on his left hand grinning, unable to contain its amusement just as its host hadn’t. “I got that for you since it’s going to take me a while and I didn’t really get much of anything else to cook for today,” the Uchiha stated sincerely.

“Ah, thanks, un?”

The Uchiha grinned behind his mask and nodded in acknowledgement, heading back to his work. It took a while, but eventually the dango was finished and setting off to the side. Obito had started the cakes which sizzled away in the pan while he waited to flip it over. He stood at the island in the middle of the kitchen, propping his chin on his hand as he waited, watching Deidara swirl the remaining liquid in the bowl he had heated his oden in with his pair of plain vinyl chopsticks.

“I’m glad Sasori doesn’t eat,” Tobi murmured, breaking the silence. Deidara glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. “He would not be happy, senpai, because this is taking forever,” he groaned.

Deidara scoffed, “Art can’t be rushed, un.” They both grinned, remembering their earlier conversation. This was the best interaction Obito had had with any of the other Akatsuki members, which made him kind of feel like a dick for having pestered Deidara all the time in his previous lifetime (and this one, but what can you do), even if his partnership with Deidara was rather short. On that note, he was rather glad Deidara hadn’t questioned his constant use of the term ‘senpai’ to refer to the blond even though he was obviously older than the ex-Iwagakure shinobi.

Obito flipped the cake in the pan and went back to his chat with the blond teen. The darkness of his anxiety and night terror had faded for now and he was grateful that he didn’t have to be all that lonesome so far away from home and the people he wanted to protect from the future of his world. Maybe he’d see them again once he cleared all of this up?

The duo heard the tell-tale signs that one of the other Akatsuki members was coming out from their slumber. They waited with bated breath to see who it’d be and fell into deathly silence. There weren’t many members of Akatsuki who’d willingly awaken this early as it was only about six in the morning, so it was a sour game they were playing to begin with.

A silver head popped in, hair sticking up in every direction, the albino priest yawning loudly, indifferent to the fact that all he wore were his pajama bottoms. Damn it, not Hidan.

“What the hell are you doing up,” he growled, sleepy eyes glancing around the kitchen and landing on the stack of cakes on the island beside Tobi. He suddenly seemed more awake and smirked.

Deidara scowled from his spot and hissed, “Don’t even think about it, un! I helped, so they’re mine!”

Hidan turned to look at the blond and chuckled, “Oh yeah, pipsqueak?”

“Yeah, that’s right, grease-head,” Deidara growled, ready to pounce and attack at a moment’s notice.

Hidan cocked his head at the blond and cawed, “Ha! I’ll forgive you this once, but I’m going to get those pancakes, Deidara-chan.”

“Hey, hey,” Tobi broke in, waving to get their attention, “there’s enough for everybody! Tobi is a good boy and thought of Hidan-san too!” Deidara glared at Tobi in disbelief that plainly stated ‘traitor’.

Hidan hummed victoriously and turned away from the blond to set his sights on the masked man. “Hey glory hole, I didn’t know you could cook,” the priest boomed brashly. Trust Hidan to get to the point.

Glory hole? Obito cringed and felt rather annoyed with the vile Jashinst, but kept up the façade of the happy-go-lucky Tobi. He waved his spatula and chuckled, “Tobi wanted to surprise his senpais!”

Hidan didn’t really look amused, in fact, as per the usual, he didn’t out rightly care at all. He went forward and grabbed the plate of cakes, much to Deidara’s disappointment, and went off with the golden stack into the dining room, snatching up the syrup with him. He didn’t even bother to grab a utensil.

Deidara huffed and glared at Tobi whom just shrugged, “I’ll make you more, senpai. Sorry!” That was the best apology the blond was going to get out him. It’s not like he couldn’t fend the Jashinist off and tell him so, but he’d rather keep up his guise as Akatsuki’s masked idiot. He ducked down behind the island and crouched there in between cooking his cakes. He heard the blond sigh, but at least the silence was calm and not filled with tensions as they had been. Hopefully the rest of the day would go more smoothly, but he didn’t see that as much of a possibility, considering what he had seen in the reports he had gotten back last night. He had to look into that today. It was ‘how’ that was the real question.