Escalating Conflict

"Wait."

Danzo's voice came from behind him. Obito stopped, but did not turn around.

"What do you take my subordinates for? Decorations?" Danzo's tone changed. It was no longer the probing tone of negotiation, but something colder. "You come when you please and leave when you please. Uchiha Madara—even you should understand the most basic rules."

Obito fell silent for a moment.

Then he laughed.

The laugh was soft, so soft it was almost inaudible, yet everyone in the hall heard it. It was not the kind of laugh a living person should make—more like the sound of wind passing through dry bones.

"Rules?" Obito slowly turned around. "You're talking to me about rules?"

Behind his mask, his Sharingan slowly spun. The three tomoe merged into one, forming the shape of a massive shuriken.

"Danzo, you seem to have misunderstood something." Obito's voice was neither loud nor soft, every word sounding like a statement of fact. "I didn't come here to ask you for anything. I came to inform you."

At that moment, Yamanaka Fū moved.

There was no warning—no hand signs, no drawn blade, not even a change in his breathing. His body shot out from Danzo's side like a released spring, the fingers of his right hand pressed together like a blade as he thrust straight for Obito's throat.

Aburame Torune moved at the same time. He did not approach. Instead, he crouched down and pressed both hands against the floor. Countless tiny black insect eggs poured from his sleeves and silently spread across the ground like a creeping shadow.

The owl-masked man and the other two Root members retreated at the same time, surrounding Obito in a triangular formation. Each drew ninja tools, sealing every possible escape route.

Five people, five directions, five different methods of attack.