Chapter 9 The Ticking Curse edited

The night held its breath.

React. NOW.

Obito's Sharingan snapped wide open, the swirling red eye burning through the darkness. Kaito was already in front of him—no, behind—no, everywhere at once.

A flicker of motion. A kunai aimed straight for his heart.

Kamui—

Obito's instincts screamed as he activated his space-time intangibility, the kunai phasing through his chest just as it would have pierced him.

But something was wrong.

A sharp jolt pulsed through his body—a fraction of a second too slow. His Kamui had activated, but the process felt delayed, as if his mind and body were out of sync.

Obito twisted, staggering back, his grip tightening around his scythe as he landed several meters away. The impact had already happened, but his body was still catching up.

"What… was that?"

The realization sent a chill down his spine.

Kaito stood casually, flipping the kunai in his fingers, his crimson Mangekyō Sharingan burning like twin eclipses.

Then he smirked.

"Why would the famed 'Ghost of the Uchiha' consider running away like a lost dog?"

He deliberately emphasized the title, Uchiha Madara, throwing it at Obito like a dagger aimed at his pride.

Beneath his half-mask, Obito's mouth twitched. Kaito's words clawed at something buried deep inside him—the weight of a name he had stolen, the shadow of a man he could never fully become.

But now wasn't the time to let emotions cloud his mind. He needed a plan.

"My Izanagi can last for 7 minutes," he calculated. "During this time, I can use its 'immortality' to handle Kaito. If I can't find a solution by then, it's not too late to retreat."

His grip tightened around his scythe, the darkened steel reflecting the moonlight.

The battlefield stood as a war-torn graveyard around them—craters from past jutsu marred the land, smoke coiling in the night air, and shattered trees whispering against the wind. Each breath carried the scent of scorched earth and battle-worn steel.

Snorting coldly, Obito finally replied, "I admit your strength is beyond expectations, but that doesn't give you the right to be arrogant in front of me!"

Kaito merely shrugged, unbothered.

"If that's the case, then I'll continue playing with you."

Without another word, his Mangekyō Sharingan ignited.

A crimson glow flickered in his eyes, illuminating the battlefield with an eerie, mesmerizing light.

Obito's eye widened.

This is…!

For a brief moment, time itself seemed to warp around Kaito's gaze. The black vortex at the center of his eyes twisted—spiraling inward like a collapsing star. The three tomoe, shaped like curved clock hands, ticked ever so slightly as if counting down unseen seconds.

The thin, glowing ring around his iris pulsed—divided into three sections, as if symbolizing separate dimensions. The outer edges of the design shifted subtly, fragmented like the moving gears of a grand celestial machine. It was an optical illusion, but it felt real—like time itself was unraveling in Kaito's stare.

A Mangekyō unlike any I've seen…

For the first time in this battle, Obito felt a flicker of unease. This wasn't Kamui. This wasn't Flying Thunder God. This was something else entirely.

Still, he steadied himself. "So the time-space ninjutsu you used earlier is the visual technique that comes with your Mangekyō Sharingan, right?"

Kaito's smirk deepened, his glowing eyes narrowing in amusement.

"Even if you know about them, you can't do anything about it."

The confidence in his voice sent a chill down Obito's spine.

He wasn't bluffing. Kaito knew exactly how to counter him.

Obito had faced powerful Sharingan users before—but Kaito's felt fundamentally different. His movements were too unpredictable, too refined. If Kamui was like slipping through reality itself, Kaito's ability felt like reality breaking apart and rearranging at his will.

Even worse—Obito could tell Kaito wasn't showing everything yet.

"There's something more to his Mangekyō… something I haven't seen."

The wind howled through the battlefield, carrying the scent of dust and blood. The tension thickened. Neither of them spoke, but the next move was already in motion.

A flicker.

Kaito vanished.

Obito barely had time to react before—CLANG!

A burst of sparks as scythe met blade. Kaito had reappeared behind him, striking with a black-tinted kunai aimed at his ribs. Obito twisted his weapon, deflecting just in time.

"Tch." Obito clicked his tongue and phased slightly with Kamui, shifting his torso to avoid a follow-up strike. But—something was wrong.

He felt a split-second delay.

His Kamui had activated… slower than usual.

"What—?"

Kaito's Sharingan gleamed, and in that instant, Obito realized the horrifying truth.

His perception of time had been altered.

Kaito wasn't just teleporting—he was manipulating the flow of time itself.

Even if Obito phased through attacks, he might be a fraction of a second too slow to counterattack. And in battle, a fraction of a second meant death.

Kaito stepped back casually, flipping the kunai in his fingers. "Something wrong?"

Obito masked his unease. "You're relying too much on tricks."

"And you're relying too much on Izanagi."

Obito stiffened.

Kaito's smirk didn't falter. "I know exactly how long it lasts. Seven minutes, right? That means… only six left."

Obito's grip on his scythe tightened.

He's stalling.

Kaito was testing him. Forcing him to waste time until Izanagi ran out.

Obito wasn't about to let that happen.

Without hesitation, he surged forward. His scythe slashed through the air, cutting through the shadows—but Kaito was already gone.

A flicker.

Kaito reappeared at his side, a blade sweeping toward his throat.

Obito spun—but again, that strange delay. His Kamui activation felt off.

Damn it.

Kaito's Mangekyō spun rapidly, the clock-hand tomoe ticking once.

Obito barely phased in time as the blade whizzed past his throat, but the unsettling realization settled deep in his gut—

He wasn't just fighting Kaito. He was fighting against time itself.