Chapter 3: Hatred Toward Uchiha Clan

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Truth be told, Obito didn't know where this immense hatred for his own clan came from.

Sure, he had felt betrayed by them; he had felt they were a clan with outdated ideals that deserved death.

But he had played a hand in their extermination, and that had been enough to douse whatever anger he held towards them.

That's what he believed anyway. But something felt irrevocably wrong that the damnable clan was still alive, functioning, and in Konoha.

To him, the only Uchiha that were alive… were Madara, Itachi, Sasuke, and himself. Even then, he wanted Madara dead, Itachi was dead, and Sasuke was most likely dead as well.

And now, he wanted to die, entering that eternal reprieve—or eternal hell—that his oh-so beloved relatives were currently experiencing.

Perhaps it stemmed from his self-loathing. The belief that, aside from very, very few, all Uchiha were destined to be consumed by hatred. Cursed to make the lives of others utterly miserable, including those who they loved and cared for.

It was a horribly convoluted cycle, one that very few managed to escape from. And it was all centered around the clan. The clan, the clan, always the clan. The curse was ever present in the clan, along with false pride and self-entitlement.

Years and years of festering, growing with power but also growing with hatred, only tightening the metaphorical noose around their necks. The only thing the Uchiha clan was entitled to was destruction, and that was a dish best served cold and with their precious eyes on a silver platter.

Considering the fact that their dōjutsu was one well known for seeing the future, descendants with Uchiha blood were awfully blind in everything unrelated to power and revenge. With a path like that, it should've been obvious that self-destruction was all that awaited them at the end.

And yes, everything was about the clan. Everything that was done was for the clan. Everything pointed towards the clan. Maybe, in some manner, Obito truly did believe that, despite how much he had loathed the concept as a child.

It certainly made it a hell of a lot easier to hate the clan; shoving his own mistakes and sins as a responsibility of the clan as a whole. His mistakes were the mistakes of the Uchiha. The lives he ended were at the hands of the Uchiha. And most of all, the destruction of the world was at the hands of the damned Uchiha.

… Yes, that was the reason. Obito believed, deep, deep down in his heart, that the Uchiha clan should be eradicated. That the world would be a better place if the power-hungry bastards like them were wiped from the face of the earth.

There were some, a select few, only a few, who truly had good intentions. Those that would suffer or sacrifice themselves to save and protect that which was truly important or truly important to them. Those, like Uchiha Itachi and Uchiha Shisui. But people like them were few, very-very few between the damn power hungry clans, especially in a clan such as the Uchiha.

In conclusion, yes. Yes, Obito hated the Uchiha clan. He hated their dōjutsu. Their pride. Their inability to accept or conform to change. He hated it all with a burning passion.

So why, why was this man, the leader of the Uchiha clan, standing before him in his dream? Why was the Uchiha clan still standing, why did it still exist?

If he truly were in the Infinite Tsukuyomi, as he reasoned before, the Uchiha clan would not exist. It would be gone, dead, eradicated. It simply would be a forgotten element to Konoha that was left ignored.

The fact that the Uchiha clan still existed here only pointed to one thing: he was not in the Infinite Tsukuyomi. None of this was a Genjutsu.

But then, if he wasn't in a Genjutsu, where was he? What did all of this mean? Why was he put in a situation that was very much like he had been sent to the past?

It was a hypothesis he hadn't wanted to entertain when he first woke up. Hence, his immediate assumption about everything was being a Genjutsu, the Infinite Tsukuyomi.

But it wasn't. He wasn't in the Infinite Tsukuyomi, and there was still a chance that Naruto had actually succeeded. Obito found that, despite the circumstances, he liked that idea better.

So where did that leave him? A misplaced soul, one of a 31-year-old war-hardened man who had once lost everything, in the body of his 12-year-old self?

The idea was laughable. But the glaring facts kept him from doing so, kept him from brushing off the idea as a simple hope. As a dream. Because it wasn't. No, this was the truth, and the truth left Obito speechless.

Time travel.

Somehow, in some way, he had ended up almost twenty years in the past. And he was trapped in his own, considerably younger body.

'Why me?' He thought with no small amount of spite. 'Why not Naruto?' Naruto was the child of prophecy. He was a glowing ball of sunshine, lighting up the darkness of friend and foe alike.

He would've been the best candidate to send into the past, and kami knew the boy deserved to see his parents more than Obito deserved to see his team. Had fate been on his side, it would've been so.

Obito would've been left to his peaceful death, while Naruto would've been given the chance of a lifetime. Perhaps the boy could've liberated even more people, righted Obito before he started down the path of self-destruction.

Obito was not suited to this. He was not the type of person that was needed to correct the past, to change everything for the better. Of course he liked the idea, of course he wanted to see his precious people again, but he was not the one to be tasked with the monumental goal of rewriting history.

Perhaps, in some long-forgotten past, he had once been the perfect one for the task. But that young boy died long ago, and no longer was Obito the type of person to happily charge headfirst into problems that he saw no end to.

To blindly fight with only the goal to protect those precious to him was not a path Obito would take, not now. He shouldn't have been the one shot years into the past, not Uchiha Obito, the man scarred by past grievances and deaths of loved ones.

A ruined man would be the brewing storm of an already dreary day, not the ray of sunshine that the past needed.

But fate had a way of playing with him. It always did. Always teasing him, forcing him to submit, forcing him to live a life of hell. Of course he would be the one sent into the past.

What was he to do, though? He wasn't Uzumaki Naruto, the praised Child of Prophecy. Was there anything he could do? Was it really worth it to even try?

He was not partial to the idea of having to relive the moment of his death, the moment of Rin's death, and the moment he became an S-Class missing-nin that wanted the essential destruction of the world.

Should he try and change things for the better? Could he? It was already obvious that, whatever higher power existed if any at all, was not partial to him. He was not favored by any God or demon, and clearly not by the Shinigami, either.

A curt cough withdrew the Obito from his time-traveler thoughts, and he slowly turned to face the other two figures in the room.

He stared blankly at no particular man, deciding to rest his eyes on the empty space between them.

He didn't want to meet the cold, hard gaze of Uchiha Fugaku, but he was even more hesitant and afraid to meet the worried gaze of Namikaze Minato. His sensei. And the man he had technically killed, failed, stepped on the grave of, and failed again by possibly letting his son die.

Obito could do little more than stare at the spot that he had decided to focus on, waiting for whatever judgment awaited him. He was in the middle of a war.

He was saved by Uzumaki Naruto. He sacrificed his life for Naruto. And then, he woke up to find that he wasn't nearly as dead as he had assumed, and had somehow landed himself in the past. He didn't know what to do.

Because Uchiha Obito, while on his way to the nulling embrace of death, found himself lost on the road of life instead.

… And he simply didn't know what to do.

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Thank you for reading this story.

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