Obito felt his heart stop then get ripped away from his cage of bones as time slowed with horror and misery. One he had never seen fallen nor drop her swords had crumbled to the dirt, bloody and unconscious. Her blades by her sides but without her grip on them any longer.

It was all the same.

Just like that one time, he couldn't save the one he cared about.

He had been telling her he loved her and wanted to protect her at any cost, even if it was his life that is needed to spare hers. The man promised that as long as he could bring a smile on her face, remove that weight she's been carrying for too long—and maybe, just maybe, get her that peace she deserved. But again he was helpless to keep her safe, away from harm's way. How could he blame himself though? Why should he, a man who kept the other man at bay, blame himself for leaving the woman he loved with another man to battle?

His breath was stolen from his lips as he rushed to Yoshie's side. Not caring whether the two assassins were there; he just had to make sure that Yoshie was still alive and that at least he would be there to protect her when she's unable to fend for herself. Rushing rewarded him with scraped knees and blood on his legs, but the man didn't care. He pulled Yoshies head up to his chest, hiding her face from the glare of the noontime sun. Her black raven hair clung to her face with blood, while an ominous pallor came over her face.

The hole left in her abdomen was clean, but blood continued to seep from it. Obito pressed against it, trying to keep her blood in; a useless endeavor though. Her hair was soaked in her own blood, whatever it touched left a deep red. It was crazy, especially that her kimono was a little brighter than the liquid escaping her body. Still, it left deep stains. Her chest was barely ebbing, and they came in slow intervals. It relieved Obito to know she was alive—

But just barely.

It opened a pit inside the man.

Wood panels creaked softly against the eastern wind. That gust carried the salty smell of the sea, proving that the coast was not too far any longer. Just a bit more and Yoshie could return home.  Her plan was that they find that sailor that brought her here to the Land of Fire in the first place, and Obito prayed they find him. The man wanted to whisper to Yoshie that he had brought her home. He wanted to show her he could be a man who's worthy of standing by her side.

The villagers have vanished with the wind, leaving only the corpses the ax wielder had left on the ground. Such bodies quickly gathered many flies as pungent the air became with the scent of iron and blood. The state left behind was beyond horrifying, war seemed to have come to butcher the unfortunate. That war was brought by only two people, particularly the man who challenged Yoshie. The memory of this horror will forever remember here.

There was one thing to be thankful for, however, because their lack of presence will free him. There was no need to hold back.

Beware—!

To those who knew of the Uchiha name know certain emotions bring out a demon of the shinobi clan members. Thus it created a silent avoidance; becoming their enemy often does not come with good omen. People were wise to know that the red glow in their eyes stemmed from a curse of past generations—triggered by anger growing into hate. But the people from the Land of the Rising Sun were ignorant of such lore.

Now an aura began to emit from Obito, tongues of malicious red flames engulfed him. The tomoe in his eyes transformed into more narrow disks on his pupils. His mouth opened with tightly clenched teeth, bearing whatever sense of vengeance grew inside of him. Pulling Yoshie closer, Obito swung out his arm with his hand to his face. He made a hand sign that got his opponents to still in their places. The ground beside Obito slithered in a creepy yet graceful motion, gathering mass in sludges. Slowly it until it began to mimic a man's figure. Before long, the mud turned into Obito himself.

But this version of him had pale skin and hair that matched, both pale as ivory. Both his eyes were red just like the original's. His arms though were as black as coal, opposite to the pale color most of him was. If not as menacing, the clone was more menacing compared to the shinobi.

"Why did your Emperor want her? What crimes has she done to deserve this?!" The man's voice came out like the roar of a lion. Impressive, however, not worthy to flinch at.

The spear wielder, pitying him at his state, stepped forward. His companion, Tsuyoshi, though only snickered amusedly at all this drama. "This is gonna be good," he dared chuckle under his breath.

"That woman. . she is responsible for the thousands that have died. The spread of the undead waking from their slumber began with her. We have reasons to believe that the gods wish for her blood to amen for this ensuing chaos. With her sacrifice for this crime against the Land of the Rising Sun. . peace will be restored and people may feel safe once again. . Now, I wouldn't know what your relationship is with Yoshie Masashi, but she'll have to die so others may live." Compared to his bloodthirsty companions, the spear wielder proved to have a kinder spirit. A calm disposition veiled his true intentions, however, and Obito made sure he would not fall for such tactics.

"She came here with hope to help your country, find some way to stop the shikabane from spreading, but you bastards decide to kill her like some sacrifice?!"

"Our leader has decreed it," the man replied calmly. "We have no choice but to obey. I'm sure you know how that works, shinobi."

"You can't just blindly follow someone's orders!" He yelled.

"That is not my concern."

Tsuyoshi, the maniac he was, dared to add wood to the flames in Obito's heart by saying the worst: "How does it feel to be useless, eh?"

Obito's clone instantly charged at the men in such fierce speed they barely managed to react. Twisting his body, he torpedoed his legs into ax wielder's face—sending the man crashing into the ground so violently the earth shook and tore itself apart. His friend managed to witness it but nearly failed to sense the clone's presence behind him. 

He noticed too late and whirled around, but again the clone wasn't there. Surprise took the spear wielder by his ankles as Shin's eyes scoured around himself in panic and soon realized a shadow hovering over his head. A ton of pressure slammed over him without warning, and it Shin hadn't used his arm as a shield his face would've been smashed into the ground. But the powerful impact created a crater underneath his feet. It was as though the ocean decided to bury him in. 

Rocks and stone and dirt flew into the air, burying whatever was underneath them. Windows were smashed in, columns snapping like sticks. Smaller craters were made and Obito had to carry Yoshie out from danger while carrying her blades. He knew how important they were, as she had emphasized their importance more than once. Forgetting them might earn him hatred from her. Obito didn't want that. He quickly removed the scabbards tied around Yoshie's waist and transferred them to his back. There he placed the swords in before running off with the woman.

* * * * * * * * 

For a clone, he was as good as the original, maybe better even. He was mostly a blur in the wind, but sometimes his speed allowed him to disappear and become air itself. His feet were light, barely leaving footprints on the ground he treads over. A hundred cuts tore against the spear wielder's skin, forcing out loud grunts from him. Blood trickled down his arms and legs, forming mud under his feet.

But the time to analyze was over for the spear wielder. 

Ganking from the left, Obito's clone dashed to cut the man's tendons. But a blade came towards his face, diverting the clone away from his target. He somersaulted in the air and landed on his feet, careful for his opponent's next move. The heavy footsteps from before were replaced by light ones the moment the spear wielder unfastened his cloak from his chest. 

"Not bad, shinobi," boomed Shin, finally throwing off his cloak. It looked heavy, seeing how thick the cloak turned out to be. Yet it flew with the wind as clouds began to approach the area with an ominous visage. They began to gather, and without a doubt a storm is brewing.

"I see your kind also makes clones, I've faced a few. Pretty entertaining. Now. . come at me!"

"You don't need to tell me," the clone declared with a smirk on his face. 

Their blades sparked each time they met. Each moment though got the blades chipping from the force the opponents yielded. The toned spear wielder proved himself to be a scary foe. He waved his spear around like it was nothing, but the clone felt a tremendous strength each time their blades clashed. If he isn't careful with his footing, he could go flying with the next blow the man would deliver.

"You're good shinobi! No man has managed to withstand against me with barely any injuries. I applaud you!" Shin whirled his weapon around and danced with Obito, threatening to jab him in vital places. Even the clone realized the difficulty, but he couldn't escape a flew slashes here and there.

"Oh, yeah? Let's see if I could kill you and your partner!"

"You're the one who's dying today!" An arrogant voice tore through the air. 

The ax blade wielder appeared from behind the shinobi, his blades pulled back for a fatal blow. Eyes flashed menacingly as the man cackled evilly, knowing that he had the element of surprise. With all his strength, he buried down his blades into the clone's shoulder, all the way down to his lung.

A horrifying sensation suddenly sliced through him, sharp and blunt in feeling. It cut through his skin, his flesh, and down through his bone. His veins went on red alert for him and for a moment the man couldn't breathe. An indescribable numbness followed soon after but quickly replaced with pounding pain that got the man screaming. He dropped his blades as blood sprayed out of him like a fountain. Even Shin could only gape in surprise. 

The shinobi now stood where the ax wielder was: they had switched places. Now, Shin only saw the whole scene play very briefly—the clone was standing where his companion now stood. He saw the blade travel through the shoulder all the way to the chest. But they both suddenly blurred and the second later it was his companion suffering.

Horrifying.

But the man only smiled, feeling adrenaline rushing through his veins. Even when his companion toppled over while clutching his arm, blood oozing out of him like a broken egg, Shin only had one thing in mind: destroy the shinobi before him and forever have the pride of crushing a strong opponent. By far, Obito's clone had not displayed any fancy moves, yet he took down Tsuyoshi with ease. They didn't even get to spar!

Stomping over to the clone, Shin's lips widened til they reached his ears. As it turned out, underneath that cloak was a hide full of scars. They cut across his chest and decorated his arms, as though he was some undying warrior. Perhaps he was, but his tale was not for telling. 

Gripping his metal rod loosely on his hand, Shin began to twirl it around his fingers slowly. Then it picked up speed and the wind began to howl as leaves flew off with the vortex the spear wielder was creating. He began to dance, letting both his hands twirl the spear around him. Right after, he throws it down but doesn't let it touch the ground—but it cut the wind, it cut the house and the several behind it.

"Come, shinobi, entertain me now. I'll face you seriously. After I defeat you, I'll be killing the real you and take the samurai with me," he chuckled.

"No. I'll be the one killing you!" Obito jumped back and made several hand signs for his clan's element: fire. He pointed his middle and index fingers upward and placed his lips close to the hole his remaining closed fingers made. Take a deep breath, the man blew and breathed fire. 

It chased after the spear wielder, and though he tried to redirect it with the use of his spear the heat was too immense for him to take. Shin leaped out of the way and onto the patio of the abandoned houses. Turning his weapon into a tool, he whirled his spear into the floorboards and cut them through so swiftly the debris into blades. They went after the clone who quickly bounced on his feet trying to avoid them. But a few pieces managed to burrow themselves into his arm, and the man winced in pain.

In retaliation, the clone threw back kunai each with an attached paper bomb. His opponent was smart enough to avoid them because a single one that pierced into the wall blew up the wall. The house crumbled and a column of smoke swept into the sky. More kunais came flying, blowing up the houses as they chased after Shin—unforgiving and vengeful.  It turned out to be a reckless measure when it allowed the spear wielder to hide in the dusty cloud Obito gave him.

But no matter, Obito could see him all the same.

He could sense his spirit, the power that remained dormant inside his opponent. With the sharingan activated, all of the wielder's senses heightened to the point he could hear floorboards creak and rocks shuffling on the dirt.  The clone could hear the wind shift as a dark shadow suddenly appeared over him. With the sun still shining, the spear wielder came crashing down on with his spear aimed directly over the shinobi's head. But the clone managed to pull away just in time.

But the man wasn't done. He turned his weapon into a pole and used it to gain momentum and quickly caught up to the his opponent. He had his maniacal smile: hungry for a good fight and blood. 

"Perhaps you shinobi may be ignorant of this, though some of us use elemental abilities, some of us use a power from the spirit realm," said Shin. As he said this, a blinding light glowed behind him. A man in full armor of a samurai, twice his size with eyes glowing a bright yellow, mimicked the spear user's actions. He, too, had a spear, but the blade resembled the shape of fire. 

The shinobi couldn't help but find himself surprised that someone else can summon a spirit. It peaked a curiosity for the land unknown to him, but fear lingered in it as well. So like Yoshie who could summon a dragon, this man could summon a warrior to aid him.

Perhaps he should do the same.

However, Yoshie wasn't the only one poisoned.

* * * * * * * *

The real Obito, running as fast as he could from the battlefield, suddenly stumbled over nothing. His legs grew numb for just a moment, but he knew that something was wrong. It was getting harder to breathe. 

His vision was going on and out; and even distorted in front of him. Cold sweat oozed out of his pores, his body trembled under an invisible weight. He began to cough as well, and from the mechanisms of his body blood showed itself on the ground with his spit. He only needed to guess once why, but there was no point in dwelling in it now.

While his clone distracted Shin and Tsuyoshi, Obito grabbed the opportunity to escape with the samurai. Each tree trunk was his shield and the branches above his head pointed the way to a safe haven. Looming and rumbling, the sky began to weep. It wept many tears, each going pitter-patter on the soil, the tiled roofs, the green leaves of incoming summer. They removed traces of Obito's escape, smoothing out his hard yet weak footsteps. But the ground turned slippery in turn, letting the shinobi slip in the forest. A root rudely grabbed his foot as he lost balance, causing him to stumble into the murky ground underneath his feet. 

Obito stumbled headfirst with a loud grunt and dropped Yoshie in the process. But he somehow avoided landing on top of her, thankfully. Embarrassment swept across him—if only he could laugh this off. Now this time though. The two warriors, for a moment, lay down in supine, letting the sky's tears cover their bloody faces. Due to the rain, the smell of petrichor was stronger than that of iron. 

"Why? Why does this have to happen now?" His voice croaked, recalling their moment at the diner and even the clothing store. "Please. ."

His vision began to blur again, panicking Obito who knew they weren't out of danger's grasp just yet. If only he could lay down for a moment to rest, regain some energy. The poison had affected his control over his sharingan, because in only a few minutes Obito felt red tears stream down the corner of his left eye. It throbbed so much Obito wanted to pull his eye out—it truly was tempting. But the shinobi couldn't remain on the ground much longer lest consciousness slips away from him when it shouldn't.

At this point, Obito only had will. Crying, he flipped over and pushed his torso up with all the strength he could muster. One arm pushed himself up, the other to assist while maintaining his balance. Then one leg pulled up underneath him, straightening up slowly. The branch of a shrug helped him up towards the tree trunk beside it. There, Obito pulled himself up from the ground.

Oh, how pitiful he was! So weak, so helpless!

He, with little strength he had left, carefully picked up Yoshie from the ground. There was no strength reserved to carry her like a damsel in distress, so Obito swung one arm around his neck, his other hand holding to her side, and he dragged her through the forbidden forest for their survival.

If there was any god up there, Obito prayed, save their skins that barely clung to their bones. If he needed to die to save Yoshie, so be it! His heart weighed heavily as the woman in his arms grew colder and weaker. Her breath felt like sighs against his chest. Big tears fell from the corners of his eyes, feeling his own strength leaving him faster and faster.

The woman meanwhile was bleeding profusely, giving her a pale complexion as if life was seeping out of her. Her breaths were weakening by the minute, her chest was barely ebbing. Dark circles around her eyes stained her face.

This sight of her squeezed Obito's chest

Obito wanted to scream, to cry out all his agony. But if he did that it would give away their position and the two assassins will come after them once more. So the skies cried out for him, flashing blinding lightning as his eye continuously oozed out red liquid. Breath escaped the man, feeling his arms grow numb while carrying Yoshie's limp body. He could feel them tremble under her weight. Yet somehow he managed to tie the swords to his back for her sake—such dedication from someone who didn't even know her father's name. 

For now, safety was at the tip of his fingers. Even if his clone began a good fight, the shinobi was too weak to sustain the clone for long. He was alone, poisoned, weak, and helpless; his friends were gone—missing somewhere. 

If only they were here!

Now strength was gone—

Obito fell again.

—is there still hope left?

"Damnit!" He grunted through his teeth, feeling his heart tug all the way to his stomach. He only had one eye as the other kept tearing up with blood. They had to get out, Obito knew they had to. But his legs refused to listen to him anymore. Weeping, the man begged his legs to work, he begged his arms to work. But exhaustion had completely worn him out. He could feel the effects of the poison in him as well, parasitic in nature.

There weren't any options left for him either. His chakra seemed to have depleted as well. He could only pull the girl up with him as he crawled up to the closest tree trunk there was. His arms embraced the woman first before taking off his kimono and placed it around her wound, hoping that it would slow down the bleeding.

He could only hope.

His heart squeezed harder inside of him upon realizing how cold Yoshie felt. She was like ice to his touch, but the woman still breathed but barely. Obito grew to hate himself within seconds. "Please live!" His weak voice mustered into Yoshie's ear. Still, no response and more fear crept into his lonely heart. Lips quivered violently and eyes turned hot. Without thinking about it, Obito clung to Yoshie even more tightly and pulled her to his chest. He had to keep her warm while praying for some godsent miracle.

"Let me rest a little. ." Obito's weak voice whispered into the wind. "I'll get us out of here. . Yoshie. I promise."

Albeit an unheard promise, the shinobi would only be helpless in what's about to happen next. The mud gurgled underneath footsteps, creating a sloshy sound each time the foot lifted itself from the mud. They were coming closer, cracking under fallen branches. Obito wanted to run so badly, but he didn't have any adrenaline left either. In seconds, these dreaded footsteps stopped in front of Obito.

With half-open eyes, the shinobi lifted his gaze.

~~~

Number of words: 3792

This chapter is dedicated to 1800-CRIMESTOBBERS! Thank you for all the support you've given me, Cel, hehe <3 LOVE YOU SM YOU'RE A PRECIOUS BEAN I SWEAR, I SIMP FOR YOU!!

I am sorry again for taking forever to update ; n ;;; it's been getting harder and harder for me to write this fanfic, I'm not so sure why. But please help me motivate myself in updating faster! 

Despite the chapter focusing on them still, I would love to hear some feedback from you guys! Dedicating a chapter to one of my readers is a passion, and I would love to keep at it.

1) Who do you think came to Obito and Yoshie through the rain? 

2) Have the assassins tracked them realizing they have been fooled?

3) Any speculations about the Dead Samurai King?

Thank you all so much for reading <3 (I hope to update sooner than what I did with this chapter xD)

- Rai