Can we please have the Obitos from all your different stories meeting? It would be soooo much fun.
Oh god. I was not prepared for this level of crack.
So! Obito = crimanals ‘verse!Obito, Angry = reverse!Obito, Vagabond = Stormborn!Obito, Long-Hair = Stepping Stones!Obito, and Green Thumb = soulmate HashiObi drabble!Obito, bc why not.
“What the actual fuck.”
“Language,” Kakashi says mildly, but he’s half a step behind and practically breathing down Obito’s neck, one hand on his Glock and both eyes narrowed.
“Fuck you,” Obito retorts. “We just got sucked into some kind of alternate fucking dimension, okay, I am fuckin entitled to whatever goddamn cursing I want. Now I’m late for meeting Rin at the FBI, and I don’t think she’s going to accept alternate dimensions as an excuse.”
“A crossover point, not a separate dimension,” a dark voice corrects, and Obito spins around to find himself staring at…
Well, that’s fucking awkward.
Granted, it’s not an outright copy. This version of him is dressed in a long black cloak with a high collar, decorated with red clouds, and has a purple-patterned white mask on his belt. His expression is tight with anger, and his two eyes are burning.
He looks a hell of a lot like the man Obito used to see in the mirror, and it’s no comfort at all.
Even less of a comfort is the big man looming just behind him, who is eerily familiar but also very much not, and before Obito can help himself he blurts, “Kisame?”
Kisame—with the addition of blue skin, a matching cloak, and a massive sword covered in scales—chuckles, apparently abashed at being recognized. “Hey,” he answers, grinning, and casts a look up and down Obito’s body. Coming from his Kisame, Obito would probably return the look with a knife, but this one doesn’t seem to have quite the edge of cheerfully menacing lechery he’s familiar with.
Before he can say anything, though, Kakashi takes a step to the side, then one in front of him, and warns in his politest voice, “If you keep looking at my husband like you want to eat him, I might take offense.”
Blue Kisame blinks, eyes widening, even as Angry Obito stops dead, eyes widening. “Husband?” he repeats incredulously, and black eyes flicker between Obito and Kakashi like he doesn’t know whether to be appalled or baffled.
“Maa, maa, there are other people here who could take offense at that as well, you know,” a mild—and familiar—voice says, and another Kakashi—this one in a dark blue outfit with a green flak jacket on top—steps out from behind one of the square pillars littering the space. Next to him is another version of Obito, this one with long hair in a braid and the same uniform as his companion.
He takes one look at Angry and blanches, falling back with a hand going to the short sword he’s carrying on his back, and snaps, “Akatsuki?! What the hell am I doing in Akatsuki?”
Uniformed Kakashi casts an assessing glance at Angry, then over at Obito (who feels rather like he should start calling himself Terrorist Obito just to keep things straight) and his Kakashi, and raises a brow. He only has one eye, the other covered by the slanted headband he’s wearing, but the book he pulls out of the pocket of his vest is all too familiar. “I think—” he starts.
“The better question would be what am I still doing in Akatsuki?” yet another Obito cuts in, this one dusty-looking and travel-worn. He also has a Kakashi double with him, this one wrapped in an equally dusty cloak, headband slanted down across his eye and Icha Icha also in hand. Vagabond eyes Angry with something that’s halfway between contempt and pity.
Long-Haired splutters. “No! No, I think the absolute best question is why am I in Akatsuki?”
“Because we’re clearly morons,” a fifth Obito says drolly, tucked back in the shadows of another column. It makes Obito twitch and turn sharply, but this one, in a dark green yukata, sporting a twist of ivy curled around his wrist and a rose twined in his hair, just gives him a faintly amused look and leans back into the hold of the man behind him. Very unfortunately, Obito recognizes him, even in a matching brown yukata instead of a neatly pressed suit. As the mayor.
God, what the hell happened for him to end up with Hashirama?
Apparently he isn’t the only one weirded out, because Angry, Vagabond, and Long-Hair are all gaping. Green Thumb just raises a brow at all of them, amused in a very familiar “I’m having fun watching your brains leak out your ears” way, and folds his arms over his chest. One of the sleeves of his yukata falls back enough to show a long string of zeroes inked into his forearm, and when Hashirama reaches around to touch his wrist gently, wise eyes flickering between the different groups, Obito can see there’s a matching tattoo on his skin. Weird.
“I take it you know where we are, then?” Hashirama asks Angry courteously, with a polite smile Obito’s seen him use when bullshitting Madara, who always fails to notice.
Thankfully for Obito’s own sanity, Angry doesn’t seem to fall for it. He scoffs, short and sharp, and takes a step back like he’s trying to get them all in his sights. “I can guess,” he growls, and Obito is detecting one or two anger management issues here. Maybe also a desperate need for therapy.
Kisame chuckles again, patting his massive scaled sword almost fondly, and says, “We were headed somewhere else. Guess we got sidetracked.”
Long-Hair is still eyeing them warily, but he straightens slowly, releasing his tantō, and tips his head in agreement. “We were on our way back from a mission and something went…sideways when I tried to use Kamui.”
Vagabond just narrows his eyes at them, and it’s Vagabond Kakashi who offers, without looking up from his Icha Icha, “Same, right, my cheerful little unicorn? We were on our way from Uzushio to Suna and ended up here.”
An entirely relatable expression of intent to murder flashes across Vagabond’s face, and he turns with a growl, slapping the book to the side, then throwing a blinding-quick punch at Vagabond Kakashi’s stomach. Vagabond Kakashi catches it with one hand, and uses his grip to twirl Vagabond around and pull him into a loose approximation of the hold Hashirama has on Green Thumb.
Obito is entirely unsurprised when Vagabond elbows Vagabond Kakashi in the gut, smacks him over the head, and pointedly steps three paces away.
“Would you look at that,” Kakashi murmurs in Obito’s ear, sounding far too amused for having just watched his double get beaten up. “It looks like some things are innate.”
Obito rolls his eye. “If you ever even think about calling me your cheerful little unicorn, I’m murdering you. Sasuke will help me.”
Kakashi makes a face. “Using your cousin against me isn’t playing fair, Obito.”
“You say that like any version of him would play fair,” Uniformed Kakashi says cheerfully, and casts a glance at Green Thumb and Hashirama. “I take it you were traveling too, then?”
Hashirama flushes faintly, ducking his head sheepishly as he rubs at the back of his neck, but Green Thumb just rolls his eyes. “Hardly. Madara walked in on us having sex last week and now he’s on a mission to never let us be alone together. We came here to fuck.”
Hashirama makes a noise like he’s dying and drops his head to bury his face in Green Thumb’s shoulder. “Obito,” he whines.
“I’m feeling out of place,” Kisame says cheerfully to Angry. “Just a little.”
“Don’t,” Angry tells him flatly, eyeing Green Thumb like he’s wondering if their double has lost his mind. “Clearly I’m the only one in this room with taste.”
“Excuse you,” Long-Hair says, deeply offended. “My sexual preference isn’t fish, so I think I’m doing just fine.”
“You’re with Bakashi,” Green Thumb and Angry retort in stereo, then glance at each other.
Obito snorts. “That’s fair,” he allows, and ignores the wounded noise Kakashi makes behind him. When Long-Hair looks like he’s going to protest, he meets his double’s eye and arches an eloquent brow.
Long-Hair deflates with a sigh. “Yeah, no, that is fair.”
“Maa,” Uniformed Kakashi objects, finally lowering his book. “Obito, I think you’re being very rude to your husband—”
There’s a very loud splutter, and Long-Hair rounds on Uniformed Kakashi, flailing. “WHAT. We’re not married! You’re not my husband!”
“Well, we’ll fix that as soon as we get back,” Uniformed Kakashi says cheerfully. “But as I was saying, rude—”
Obito turns to give his Kakashi a dark look, only for the man to raise his hands. “Clearly, Obito,” he says, tone trying for innocence, “I’m genetically predisposed to proposals like that—”
“You’re unbelievable is what you are.” Obito rolls his eye, and turns to look at Vagabond, who’s seeming like the only semi-normal one. Well, Green Thumb seems fairly mellow and well-adjusted, but Obito can’t look straight at him without thinking about Hashirama and sex and Madara walking in, and he’s had nightmares and been in war zones that were less traumatizing. “We weren’t going anywhere, and I have no idea what Kamui is. Any chance of getting back home before Rin decides to call in the army? Or worse, Kagami?”
Something raw and painful flickers in Vagabond’s expression, and Vagabond Kakashi lays a hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently. Vagabond casts him a faint smile before turning back, and says, “There was probably resonance, with so many versions of Kamui in one place, and you had just enough chakra that it pulled you in as well. I can get you back, though, don’t worry.”
Angry snorts quietly, turning on his heel. “Kisame, let’s go. I’ve had more than enough of the selfless hero types.”
Kisame chuckles, even as he turns to follow Angry into the darkness of their surroundings. “Kurama’s hard to top as far as hero types go,” he agrees, offering a careless wave before a vortex in the air swallows them.
“And we’re going home to talk about this!” Long-Hair hisses at Uniformed Kakashi.
Uniformed Kakashi looks nothing less than cheerful. “I have a ring, if that helps.”
“NO IT DOESN’T. If you have a ring, why ask me like that?”
Vagabond rolls his eyes and steps away, tipping his head to make Obito follow. “They’re probably going to be there for a while.” Half a glance at Green Thumb, like it’s hard for him to look at the way he’s wrapped up with Hashirama too, and he asks reluctantly, “You’re staying?”
“Madara,” Green Thumb says, like that explains everything, and Obito supposes that it does. “Besides, Hashirama’s been working on building the village for weeks now, and I finally convinced him to take a day off. I’m not about to waste that.”
“It was nice to meet you,” Hashirama says whimsically, offering a brief wave and a smile. “It’s good to know that Obito has people who love him in other worlds, too.”
This is apparently what it takes to make Green Thumb flush, and he elbows Hashirama lightly, only to immediately be wrapped up in an encompassing hug as the big man laughs.
Vagabond and Obito trade looks that can be summed up as well at least they’re happy but it’s still fucking weird, and then Vagabond shakes his head and turns away. His eyes flicker to red and black pinwheels, spinning lazily, and he passes a hand through the air, making another vortex bloom.
“Through there,” he says, and then pauses. A glance at Uniformed Kakashi, and he smiles, just a little. “Good luck.”
He definitely means for more than the trip through the portal. Obito smiles back, tipping his head in agreement, and returns, “You too.”
“We’ll get there.” Vagabond curls his fingers into Uniformed Kakashi’s, and Uniformed Kakashi’s visible eye crinkles in a smile as he very clearly squeezes back.
The sap is choking, even after weeks of having to put up with Rin and Konan being sickeningly sweet girlfriends. Obito hides a grimace and ducks forward, reaching for his knives automatically, and feels Kakashi right behind him. The portal is a lurching wrench, but Obito twists in midair and lands on his feet, half-crouched and ready for anything.
Anything happens to be their living room, bullet holes still in the door, his cell phone on the table and vibrating angrily. Rin’s name is on the screen, and Obito winces.
Kakashi leans forward to pick it up, eyeing it like it’s a poisonous snake, and then glances at Obito. “Was that weird enough to earn us a day off, do you think?”
Obito casts a look back at the portal as it vanishes into nothingness, and feels his original sentiment still entirely applies.
“What the actual fuck.”