Obito: I Will Create a World with Rin

Under the cold moonlight, Uchiha Izumi's shadow swayed slightly against the wall, the droplets of water clinging to her hair tips refracting tiny glimmers of light.

Uchiha Ao swallowed the last mouthful of porridge, his peripheral vision catching a red, heat-scalded mark on his sister's wrist, looking like a winding, thin thread.

"Sister Izumi, your hand..." He suddenly reached out to grab it, but Uchiha Izumi dodged him with ease.

She flicked his forehead with her fingertip, her voice laced with a smile, "Little brother, focus on your meal."

The night wind outside the window made the leaves rustle. Uchiha Ao opened his mouth, but ultimately obeyed and lowered his head to continue drinking his porridge.

Hmph, to think they actually let my dear Sister Izumi get hurt.

Itachi, Obito, I'm not done with you!

Uchiha Ao thought to himself while drinking his porridge.

On the other side, Uchiha Itachi had just returned home after completing his mission.

The moment he thought about seeing his adorable little brother, a rare, soft expression flickered across his usually stoic face.

Uchiha Itachi pushed open the front door, and the warm light from inside spilled out, dyeing his long black robe a caramel hue.

He habitually lightened his footsteps, his gaze sweeping over the two pairs of wooden sandals neatly arranged at the entryway—Sasuke's pair still had mud from the previous day's training clinging to them, the edges slightly curled. He couldn't help but reach out to gently brush over them, the curve of his lips deepening.

Suddenly, the sound of light footsteps came from the kitchen. Itachi quickly pulled his hand back, his expression returning to its cold, rigid state.

Sasuke walked around the corner carrying a stack of bowls and dishes, his black hair sticking up in a messy tangle, a grain of rice still clinging to the tip of his nose.

"Brother! Why are you only just getting back!" Sasuke huffed, slamming the dishes onto the table with enough force to splash a few drops of broth, "The miso soup is stone cold!"

Watching his little brother's bristling appearance, a soft chuckle escaped Itachi's throat. He reached out, intending to ruffle that tuft of hair, but paused in mid-air.

Sasuke dodged back warily, his cheeks flushing red, "You're trying to mess up my hair again!"

"My apologies." Itachi withdrew his hand, lowering his eyes to hide the smile in them. His gaze caught the steaming rice balls on the table; their lopsided shapes clearly betrayed Sasuke's clumsy handiwork. "Did you save these for me?"

Sasuke turned his face away, the tips of his ears burning red, "W-who saved them for you! I just made too many!"

He suddenly remembered something, turned abruptly, and pulled a package from the cupboard, shoving it into Itachi's arms while muttering, "Saw it on the way, just bought it."

Itachi unwrapped the coarse cloth, revealing a brand-new kunai holster inside. The stitching was crooked, and the edges were still stained with uncleaned pigment.

"The stitching is too uneven; it will chafe your hands." Itachi's fingertips brushed over the bumpy fabric, but his voice was gentler than the moonlight.

Sasuke bristled suddenly, "If you don't like it, then don't take it!" Before he could finish, he was pulled gently into Itachi's embrace.

The familiar scent, wrapped in a gentle warmth, enveloped him. Sasuke's struggle gradually subsided as he heard a low voice from above, "Thank you, Sasuke."

Suddenly, Itachi felt an itch at the tip of his nose. He rubbed it instinctively, but the strange, tingling sensation wouldn't fade.

An uncontrollable itch rose in his throat. He jerked his head to the side, intending to sneeze, but noticed the miso soup Sasuke had saved for him on the table. It was already too late to dodge.

Itachi could only pray that Sasuke would forgive him.

"Achoo!"

Warm droplets mixed with fine mist sprayed out, instantly exploding into dense ripples on the previously calm surface of the soup.

The room fell into sudden, dead silence.

Sasuke stiffened as he lifted his head from Itachi's chest, his eyes locked onto the miso soup that had "met such a tragic end," his ear tips turning bright red at a visible rate.

"Brother!" His voice carried a hint of a sob. He shoved Itachi away and pointed a trembling finger at the bowl, "That was something I saved specifically for you!"

On the other side, in the Hidden Mist Village.

Thick fog shrouded the entire village.

Inside the office on the top floor of the Mizukage Building, the crystal chandelier tinkled in the invisible tremors.

"Ugh..." A baby-faced man knelt on the floor, trembling all over, beads of sweat the size of beans rolling down his forehead.

A strange vortex slowly emerged behind him, followed by the appearance of a figure wearing a mustard-yellow mask.

"Obito, what have you done? Why did the genjutsu suddenly fail?"

Black, asphalt-like ripples suddenly appeared on the floor, and a creature resembling a Venus flytrap broke through the ground.

Half was black, and half was white.

"This is part of my plan; you don't need to worry about it." The voice behind the mask was gravelly. Obito's scarlet Sharingan swept over the struggling Fourth Mizukage, Yagura, before him.

A moment later, Yagura stopped struggling. His eyes completely lost focus, and his entire body went limp like a marionette.

"Heh." Black Zetsu didn't believe a single word of what Obito said.

What did he mean, this was part of his plan?

Even though he, Black Zetsu, was just a mass of black liquid, he wasn't blind.

Yagura had almost released the Three-Tails.

"Obito, you need to understand the consequences of Yagura breaking free from the genjutsu." Black Zetsu decided to remind the idiot in front of him, "The Eye of the Moon Plan cannot afford any mistakes."

"Black Zetsu, the real Madara is already dead. Now, I am the one executing this plan." Did Obito not know the consequences of Yagura breaking free?

But a mere manifestation of a dead man's will dared to try and ride on his head, barking orders?

If not for the fact that Black Zetsu's ability to gather intelligence was peerless, he would have killed him long ago.

"..." Black Zetsu no longer wished to speak with this arrogant fool.

A person blinded by hatred could not listen to any advice.

"Hmph." Although Black Zetsu's entire body was pitch black, Obito still read the undisguised contempt in his eyes.

Everyone only knows how to mock me; only Rin would reserve her gentleness for me.

Just wait. The day the Eye of the Moon Plan is completed, I will create a world where Rin exists.

And you, Black Zetsu, along with Madara, will only be stepping stones on the path to my success!

The space around Obito suddenly twisted. His figure transformed into a black vortex and vanished into it in an instant.

"Useless thing." Seeing Obito leave, Black Zetsu sank into the ground with White Zetsu, leaving only pitch-like black traces that were quickly swallowed by the mist.

The next day.

Uchiha Ao didn't wake up until nearly noon. He had spent too long memorizing acupuncture points last night, only falling into a deep sleep when the sky began to pale.

Uchiha Ao pushed open his bedroom door. The house was quiet; Sister Izumi and his aunt were nowhere to be seen, only the aroma of food wafting from the table.

A note was pressed down next to the meal, written in elegant handwriting: "Little brother, remember to eat - (✿◠‿◠)"

Uchiha Ao shook his head, tucked the note away, and began to eat.

He had taxed his brain all night, and the energy expenditure was indeed significant. He picked up a chopstick of the greens Sister Izumi had stir-fried; the crisp, tender texture mingled with a savory saltiness on his tongue, yet as he chewed, he always felt something was missing.

While eating the breakfast Sister Izumi had prepared, Uchiha Ao pondered his next move.

Now that Hinata's main quest was complete.

Judging by the system's temperament, triggering main quests required interacting with plot-critical characters from the original story.

But why didn't his system react when he interacted with Guy earlier? Could there be a specific order to it?

Uchiha Ao tapped the rim of his bowl with his chopsticks, producing a crisp sound, his brow furrowing even tighter.