Inoiki almost smiled, tilting his head slightly as he regarded the masked man. "So let me get this straight... You just happened to appear out of thin air, right in my path, just to ask for a ride?"
Tobi placed his hands behind his head, radiating pure mischief. "Yep," he said shamelessly, "that's exactly right."
Inoiki shook his head, a faint sigh escaping him. "Unbelievable."
Without warning, the massive sword behind him lifted off the ground and shot forward like a thunderbolt, slicing through the air on a direct path toward Obito.
The blade moved with deadly precision—an attack meant to cleave the man clean in half.
And yet... it passed through him harmlessly, as if he were no more solid than mist. Obito didn't flinch. The sword continued forward, cleaving the ground behind him instead.
Inoiki, inwardly unsurprised, kept his expression composed—just another part of the performance. He knew full well who he was dealing with. He knew Obito's ability. But this was supposed to be their first meeting.
So he put on a show.
Eyes wide, he let out a mock-surprised, "Oooh... Interesting. My weapon didn't touch you. So... let's see if chakra can."
As his voice fell, the giant sword looped in the air and arced back toward Obito, this time crackling with blue lightning—pure, focused chakra energy dancing along its edge.
It struck again—faster, sharper, more violent.
And again... it passed through Obito as if he weren't really there.
No blood. No wound. No reaction.
Just silence.
Inoiki watched, unreadable. So it really is Kamui, he thought. Still untouchable. Still hiding behind intangibility.
But outwardly, he kept his tone casual, almost amused.
"Looks like I'm going to need more than a blade and chakra to make you feel anything."
Inoiki's eyes narrowed slightly. His voice was calm, but laced with a quiet edge.
"Let's see if you can phase through hundreds of blades."
The words had barely left his mouth when the massive sword hovering in the air above them began to shift. With a low hum of power, it fractured—splitting apart like a puzzle unraveling itself in midair.
In an instant, the once-great blade shattered into hundreds of smaller blades, each one sleek and sharp, resembling oversized kunai. They hovered in the sky like a storm of steel, glinting under the sun, suspended perfectly in formation.
Each blade pulsed faintly with a pale blue glow—Inoiki's psychokinesis binding them in perfect harmony.
These weren't random fragments. These were parts of a whole, designed to fit together and reform the giant sword whenever he willed it. But now, they hovered like the calm before a storm, surrounding Obito from all angles, each one poised to strike with lethal precision.
Inoiki stood below, his hand slightly raised, fingers twitching in anticipation. "Let's see how long your little trick holds up."
The air around them began to buzz with pressure.
Obito—still in his Tobi persona—threw up his hands dramatically. "Whaaat? Why are you attacking me? I just wanted a ride! You don't wanna give me one? That's fine! I'll just leave, okay? No hard feelings!"
Inoiki's smile vanished. His expression turned cold, voice flat and firm.
"Drop the act."
The air grew heavy as his tone cut through the pretense like a blade.
"If you really wanted to joke around and stall for time, you shouldn't have worn the Akatsuki cloak. Do you take me for a fool?"
His eyes locked onto the masked figure with icy precision.
"You can keep up that clown routine for other shinobi—but not me. I can feel you. While you act like an idiot, you're still tracking every one of my blades, calculating the timing of my attacks. And beneath it all, there's something else."
He paused for just a beat.
"Hatred. A lot of it. I don't know who it's aimed at, but it's there—boiling under the surface."
A long silence followed.
Then, with a subtle shift in posture, Obito dropped the pretense. No more goofy gestures, no exaggerated voice. He didn't switch into his Madara persona either—not yet. Something in him knew now wasn't the time.
He couldn't guarantee he could kill Inoiki here. And more importantly, revealing his true identity didn't fit into his plan. Not now.
But he kept his voice casual, still speaking as Tobi.
"Why don't we just... let this go?" he said smoothly. "You don't need to help Team Kakashi. We don't have to fight. It's a win-win, really."
He shrugged, as if offering a friendly deal over lunch.
"What do you say?"
Inoiki stared at him, calm and unwavering.
"You know it, and I know it," he said coldly. "There's no way I'm backing down. So if you really want to stop me... you'll have to fight me."
The instant the last word left his mouth, the air ignited with motion.
Hundreds of blades rained down from the sky like a storm of steel, whistling through the air with lethal speed—each one guided by Inoiki's will, each one aimed directly at Obito.
Obito remained where he stood, unbothered. The blades phased through him harmlessly, passing as if he were a mirage.
"It's pointless," he said calmly, not even flinching. "As you can see, none of your attacks can touch me."
Inoiki's eyes glinted with something colder than steel.
"You're absolutely right. It looks like my attacks aren't working. But I've been observing, and one thing is certain—whatever technique you're using, it's some kind of Kekkei Genkai. And to maintain that ability... you need chakra."
He stepped forward, his voice low but forceful.
"I could do this all day. Can you?"
With that, the blades that had scattered through Obito's body didn't retreat. Instead, they hovered there—suspended inside the very space he occupied. They hadn't pierced flesh, not yet. They were phased through his intangible form, held in perfect stillness by Inoiki's psychokinesis.
The pressure in the air grew.
Inoiki knew the truth. Kamui had limits. Obito couldn't remain intangible forever. Five minutes—that's all he had.
And now, with each passing second, the blades waited—just like Inoiki.
Silent. Deadly.
Counting down.
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