White couldn’t help but giggle despite himself, Black wouldn’t see anything funny about this situation but then, he rarely ever saw the humour in anything.

It was just his luck, he’d waited patiently all day, eavesdropping relentlessly on the Mizukage, itching to release his plant jaw and gulp the young man whole.

But White wasn’t that stupid. The Fourth Mizukage would have destroyed his clone body before he even had a chance to taste his scalp, he felt that fact deep. And so he waited, agonizingly long, boring hours watching the fools bet on their own spilt blood and suffer the Mizukage’s flirting attempts.

Those attempts did lead to delicious little nuggets of information, a heads up on current events he could use to potentially bring the Hidden Mist to total ruin! Hahah, what was the Mizukage thinking? The Princess was a foolish, cloistered child playing adult, but there were many other ears near and ready to betray his blatant threatening of the Water Daimyo.

White could do enough mental maths to imagine that this could merely be a bluff and there even if it weren’t it wasn’t exactly infeasible to accomplish. The Hidden Mist would struggle against the Daimyo should word of their Mizukage’s blasphemous tongue get out before they organize, but they would surely triumph against peasant armies, even the best of Samurai could hardly compare to a qualified Chuunin.

But…should Kumogakure learn of such a vulnerability. It’ll be over for the Mist! War aplenty, War aplenty! Ack-!

A cannon ball of water smashed into White, slamming him against a tree bark and snapping his thoughts back to reality. His pursuers were almost upon him, he cracked his disguised neck back into place and leaped away just as the pesky one with the Byakugan crashed a palm into the tree’s base, shattering its roots and felling it at once.

Sheezh…just my luck.

Despite overcoming his impatience and bad ideas, White was not rewarded for his hard work. He didn’t understand where it went wrong really and he’s sure it’ll all be hilarious once Black points it out. But for now, he couldn’t fathom how the Mizukage had arrive so quickly, or why he even bothered saving the Old man, they were at odds weren’t they?

He thought he’d caught a break when the Mizukage left the pursuit to his ANBU and was prepared to deceive them with his mimicry, only for the Byakugan Killer to be leading the charge. There was no losing him, Zetsu wasn’t fast enough to even keep good distance from the man much less contend with his ever watchful Byakyugan.

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I can’t be caught. Self-destruct! White giggled, about to plant his foot on a broad tree branch and reverse his momentum; he would engage the Byakugan Killer or one of his mate, snatch their pouch and self-destruct in their faces with their own bombs!

Except his foot slipped into the branch, taking the rest of him as gravity tilted, startling him for a moment before he slammed face first into one of the very familiar obelisks in Obito’s pocket dimension.

“Ahaha!” He lifted his head and released his mimicry to display a carnivorous grin, “It all worked out after all.”

“Idiot.” Black said, stood beside Obito with his original being the only one to reflect his grin. White slithered back to himself, attaching and devouring until he was whole again.

“That was reckless, Zetsu.” Obito grumbled behind his mask. His hair had grown out again and wore a simple, purple lined kimono and bare sandals. His body beneath was covered in bandages, even extending to his visible arm and hands.

“What’s the hurt? Seemed like a good idea? Kill the Old man, get his kid to-”

“It doesn’t matter what you thought,” the swirled orange mask and the ethereal light of his pocket dimension menaced White more so as he imagined the glare behind the piercing voice. “What matters now is that you’ve failed and the Mizukage caught you no less.”

He stuttered his epiphany about the Mizukage’s insolence against his Daimyo but swallowed the first syllable of a word as Obito’s spiralling Sharingan dug through him.

It gave but a moment’s respite as it turned to the other half of his face, “I thought you could control him.”

Black was ever brave and unfazed, “It was your will to see them suffer, failure or not, there was an attempt. I have already explained the oddity of this Mizukage, he will continue to be a pest.”

White felt like nodding in agreement but still dared not move. Obito bit back a growl, his hate of Kirigakure was a near second on the list of things and people he loathed. But Black knew where he would always seek to demolish the first, punishing Kirigakure was the least they could do to lighten his burden and they were failing.

“Indeed, you have even compared me to him, a dreamer.” Obito snarled, he clenched his fist, fingernails biting through the bandages, “You should know better than I, dreams, dreamers are dangerous. You underestimated him but our dream will be the one to usurp this ill reality, I will see to him personally but only after priority objectives are met.” He turned and sat at the edge of the abyss of obelisk, there was a world more of the platforms below, mirroring themselves to infinity.

“Is it time then?” Zetsu asked together, eager to do his part.

“No, but soon. Mere months, an infinite amount of time to prepare but do not waste it. We’ll refocus our efforts on destroying Konoha first, Yondaime Mizukage can wait until after, he will bow then and the Akatsuki will flourish on the blood coin.”

Zetsu trembled with glee, “Just tell me when.”