#obito x Oc

[kankuroplease]

Christmas gift for @foolishk ! She’s very sweet and I love hearing about Kaiya + I love Obito’s goofball self, so them together are a great duo 🖤

#my art #obito uchiha #obito x oc #other ppls ocs #I’m so sorry about this but at the same time I love this scene #fits them so well imo 🤣 #q #naruto crossover au #technically a triple crossover #iykyk

[pfpanimes]

⌕ naruto - obito uchiha.

like or reblog if you save/use.

#naruto #naruto icon #naruto icons #naruto layouts #naruto packs #naruto shippuden #naruto obito #obito #obito uchiha #obito uchiha icons #obito x oc #obito x y/n #obito x you #obito x reader #anime layouts #anime icons #manga icons #animes layouts #twitter layouts #manga layouts #anime packs #anime icon

[lemony-snickers]

friday flash fic fest(s)

some mini-fics written from submitted prompts:

1 - "i've got you" (kakashi x oc)

2 - "i have so much love for you i almost don't know what to do with it." (kakaobi)

3 - "could you please come and get me?" (kakashi x gn!reader)

4 - "can you read to me?" (shino x oc)

5 - "where's my goodnight kiss?" (kakashi x gn!reader)

6 - "let me help you" (kakashi x oc - tw blood)

7 - reunion kiss (kakagai)

8 - kissing to make someone jealous (kakashi x gn!reader)

9 - kissing their injuries (obito x oc)

10 - kissing to shut them up (kakashi x fem!reader)

11 - kissing their injuries (yamato x fem!reader)

12 - first kiss (tenzo x gn!readre)

13 - angry kiss (obito x fem!reader - tw blood, biting, alcohol, swearing)

14 - kissing to get their attention (kakayama)

#kakashi x reader #tenzo x reader #yamato x reader #obito x reader #shino x oc #obito x oc #kakaoc #kakaobi #kakagai #kakayama #lemony scribbles

[youngblood-182]

best fanfics I've read for the Naruto universe

OKAY OKAY SO HEAR ME OUT I got big thoughts and I have a list going on in my phone rn and I wanted to share in case I see any Obito stans

The Beach: Obito Uchiha x Fem!Reader by @sleepysnk

This fanfic lives rent free in my mind at all hours of the day, every song I listen to has somehow become a revolving door of this fanfic. Summer is amazing at describing each and every character, the relationships, the interactions are like top tier. Absolutely adore this story and will wait on hand and knee for the next chapter.

The Burnouts AU Series by @the8gates

The first book made me feel SO MANY feelings, the drama, the romance?? The intricate characters and their development. This world was so easy to fall into, and when reading these books I actually feel like I am in their world. A definite read if you enjoy modern au naruto world. I have re-read the first book multiple times, and I am waiting on the edge of my seat for what will happen next. Definitely a big Obito fan in this book. A must read.

The Butterfly Effect Series by @sunarinnies

This is another series that I have become obsessed with, this book absolutely messes me up in the best way possible. The author presents each and every character so perfectly, especially Hiruzen. I adore the way they present him in this series. Plus I love Chiyuki, she is an amazing OC and I wish this series was published as an anime. The author really said "let me just take the series and make it my own" If you like watching the timeline go in different directions this is a must read. P.S. Shikaku in this book makes my heart melt.

The White Wolf of the Woods by @pinkrelish

I legitimately love the way this author writes, I have read multiple of their stories "I Tripped and Fell In Love With You" is another amazing fic by this writer. The beautiful long chapters, the slow burn romance, the way the reader falls slowly and the way Obito does too. This book makes my heart beat out of my chest. Only one chapter left before it is done and it almost makes me sad thinking that the book is almost over. Overall, this author writes fantastic Obito content and I'm 1000% here for it!

A Lethal Weapon Series by ZariaKnox

If you are a fan of time travel, trust me this book will make you feel things. Hanako is a fantastic OC and I am eagerly awaiting the next installment of this book. It is an Itachi x OC reader fic, and it is very rare someone writes Itachi as perfectly as the author of this fanfic does.

Love Me Mercilessly by akamikazae

This fanfic is wonderfully written, it's a bit sad but I love the strong themes that are incorporated into this book. The author also updates quite regularly, and it makes me very happy when I open my browser and find another chapter of this book has been posted. Strong Kakashi x OC. Please read.

I hope this list was received well, these are just my favorite fanfics out there currently and I cannot wait for more content from each of them <3

#naruto fanficiton #obito uchiha #obito x reader #obito x oc #kakashi x oc #naruto #naruto shippuden #itachi x oc #please read these you will not be disappointed #modern obito is my favorite #stoner obito

[pinkrelish]

The White Wolf of the Woods

💌 Mail Carrier!Reader x Obito!Lives AU 💌

Chapter Summary: Obito's life did not prepare him for the nuances of flirting, but that did not matter. He still denied himself the pleasure of succumbing to his desires. You deserved better than some lonely exile like him. When he pressed his knee into yours under the table while having dinner, he convinced himself it was nonchalant, despite his racing heart. When he had you wrapped in his arms, it was to teach you a cooking lesson. When he almost kissed you on the couch on movie night--twice--it was an accident.

At least, that's what he told himself, even as you let it slip you were seeing someone else, and the jealousy he felt was anything but appropriate for a friend.

Chapter: 3/4

Words: 21k

Read: AO3 / FFnet

Chapter 3: Autumn

You weren’t the most observant person. Not the best at puzzles. Not the greatest discerner when it came to those “spot the difference” hidden image books as a kid, but even you could tell the picture on the seed packet staked into the soil wasn’t quite what was growing in front of you. “Can you come here?”

The top half of Obito’s face peeked from over a bushel of wide floppy leaves one row over. His hair was dusted in golden pollen from the yellow flowers shaking under the stress of his blade as he sawed through the stem of a summer squash. “Is it another spider?”

“You’ll find one in your bed tonight if you keep it up.”

Grunting, he pushed himself to his feet and came around to your side. He crouched to your level, and in doing so, placed himself peering over your shoulder; to where his frustrated exhale hit your cheek and his knee was a pleasant pressure on the small of your back.

The corner of Obito’s mouth sloped into his usual frown and it was all you could do to not learn each intricate curve of the scars engraved into his cheek when he leaned forward and plucked the laminated paper from the garden bed, mulling over the large, orange, spherical pumpkins in the photo, and the measly, flat, sickly white one fitting into the palm of your hand.

“There must’ve been a mix up with the seeds at the store,” he sighed. “All that work to grow that little thing.”

“I think it’s cute. It’ll be the perfect decoration for the table, don’t you think?”

He agreed, but remained unswayed. “I wanted the big pumpkins though.”

“How come? Either way they’re not edible, right?”

He readied himself to correct you on their edibility, but he clammed up. He couldn’t explain why he wanted them. Couldn’t explain why he encountered difficulties recovering his composure when he discovered your proximity, biting his tongue when your nose came into focus after almost colliding with it. Couldn’t get a hold of his emotions long enough to stop his staring. Couldn’t help himself from diverting his attention from your eyes, to your nose, to your plump, precious grin.

“They make good jack-o-lanterns,” you filled in where he left off, in the beckoning space between your mouths. Snapping him out of his intrigue and severing his blatant wonderment at the softness of your lips.

“That’s an activity for children.” He was back to his usual self.

“Maybe, yeah. But if it’s one you never got to do as a kid and wanted to do it now, that’s okay too.”

Heat crawled up his throat under your rapt surveillance. “I-I forgot my knife. Over there.” Expelling a flustered swear, he dropped the marker and shook his head, returning to the row he was working on and nearly flattening himself to the dirt to escape your view, mumbling something about caterpillars on the spinach again. Providing you the perfect opportunity to tuck the picture of the pumpkin into your notebook for later.

Once you harvested the rest of the ripe vegetables without a single word exchanged, Obito hoisted the woven basket onto his hip and opened the door for you, placing the bounty on the countertop beside the sink while you laid out his old towel to dry off the produce after he washed it. The tattered towel had been demoted for causes like since you replaced it with a new set last week.

You tried your best not to fall into the trap of watching his capable hands work the brush across the russet potatoes, turning the water earthly brown with the same organic matter outlining his manicured fingernails, but, lost in your admiration, you dried the same eggplant over, and over again. His nails were kept short. Practical. Water dripped down his muscular forearms, flowing over his veins as he inspected the tomatoes; appreciating the effort it took to create life from scratch, like you appreciated the steady rise and fall of his chest as your breaths synced.

Visit by visit you grew closer, and with the first bloom of friendship, you lost yourself to his unintentional charm. A fact you stopped denying three weeks ago when you attempted to hold his hand and he did not refuse you any longer.

Disrupting him in the middle of rinsing a cucumber, you caught sight of the time and gasped. “I should get going!” He looked at the clock too, schooling the pinch between his brows.

“Already?”

“Sorry,” you said, rolling down the sleeves of your cardigan, “but I’ll be back for dinner.”

Pulling himself from scrutinizing the time, Obito ran his wet, calloused palm over the back of his neck and kept his gaze down. He passed a sweeping glance over the vegetables left to clean and shifted his weight, turning to you slowly. Stalling as if he needed to prepare himself. Leaning back on the counter, crossing his arms, observing you from under his heavy brows only when you were about to leave.

“Did you eat lunch yet?” he blurted out.

You shrugged. “I had a protein bar.”

“Protein bars are not a meal,” he scolded; a deep rasp present in his voice matching the irked creases on his forehead. “Give me a second.”

Quick like it was routine, he grabbed ingredients from the fridge. Lecturing you at each swipe of the butterknife across the bread, spreading mayonnaise. Folding the ham slices in the precise fashion he knew you preferred. “That’s nowhere near enough nutrition for your level of activity. You really need to take better care of yourself. What about those recipes I gave you for simple meals to make on the weekends so you had easy food to microwave in the breakroom before coming here? And what about those snacks I sent you home with? Don’t tell me you ate those for dinner–” He smashed the sandwich closed and handed it to you. “Why are you smiling like that?”

Smirking wider, you accepted your free lunch and made a swift backwards exit out his kitchen door. “You see, if I did all those things, I wouldn’t be able to keep tricking you into making me a sandwich. Bye, sucker.”

“You’re insufferable,” he muttered to himself, trudging to the front window of his cabin to glare at you. And wave goodbye. Because you always turned around to wave at him right as you reached the bend in his driveway. It felt like bad luck if you didn’t.

“Bye,” he mouthed, watching your lips form the word too as you waved the sandwich at him with an all-too-wry grin at his defeated face in the window. His expression could be taken as him being jaded at your antics, but with the high sunbeams and low shadows of his deteriorating porch roof obscuring him, his features subdued to something much more forlorn when you escaped his view.

Obito walked back to the kitchen. Passing by your knick-knacks, your chair at his table, your framed decor, your calendar. He picked the rooster themed kitchen towel off the floor and wrung the damp fabric between his fingers. Twisting it and twisting it.

This is how it should be. This is what he knew would happen when he suggested you come here less often, seeing him a few times a week when your schedule allowed. It was better this way. Establishing a healthier work-life balance to ensure you had more energy for yourself.

But..

The clock’s minute hand ticked far too soon for you to be leaving. You looked at the time and departed before he was ready. Cutting the days shorter and shorter, magnifying the hours between stays longer and longer.

This is how it should be, but..

The slow withdrawal of your attention devoured his thoughts in the overbearing absence of your presence in his house. Inciting a craving like no other to keep you there when he should not. Wanting you to take up space in his cabin with all the seconds you could spare, but not knowing how to be so blunt in asking for this favor when it was clear you had other–better–things to do.

“Is this my punishment?” he asked the ceiling at complete opposites with himself from months ago. “I can’t have one thing go my way?”

~~~

You opened the door to your apartment and immediately considered its worth as a shield, scurrying behind it and daring to spy a single glimpse at the shadowy creature within, and his glowing eyes of immeasurable disappointment aimed in your direction.

“I know, I know. I’m sorry,” you apologized to him, ”today was an Obito day.”

Approaching the hurdle seated on your sofa with a bowed head and clasped hands, you addressed your unamused orange tabby cat with utmost respect. At his cranky command, you sprinkled a few extra kibble in his nearly-full bowl and offered him a mouse toy stuffed with catnip.

“I’ll be with Obito tonight, too, so you won’t see me for a while.” Your heart raced hearing yourself say it out loud. Speaking a not-date into existence.

Surely, it wasn’t a date when it had become so regular. People didn’t call what you’ve been doing “dates”, right? Temporarily living with someone as their caregiver, then making it a point to eat at least one meal with them every few days since.

It was practical. You were hungry. And it was.. nice to spend an evening not alone in your apartment.

He staggered on his three legs and batted the mouse for you to toss, which you obliged. He chased it down the hallway amongst mounds of dirty laundry and precariously stacked magazines. “Maybe I should clean up before I go..” you said, just as a crash sounded from the bathroom and he came trotting out with a face displaying pure innocence despite the tube of lip gloss rolling behind him.

~~~

“I can’t believe you made me do all the cooking when you’re this good.”

“I’m not that much better than you. I follow the recipe.. and don’t burn things.”

“But look how thin you’re slicing the bell pepper!”

Obito looked at the red pepper he was cutting for the stir fry and compared it to the green one you were mangling, for lack of a better word. Throughout your stay over the summer your dishes improved in quality and flavor, but one thing was consistent: your bad habits. Having never learned proper techniques, your work was inefficient and unsightly at best.

About to correct you, he debated the best way to phrase his remarks without letting his exasperation slip through in regards to you being a grown adult in dire need of basic kitchen skills. However, his animosity dissipated the second your face appeared around his bicep. Situating your chin in the crook of his elbow to watch his amateur method; honed over two decades of wandering the earth utterly alone with no other options than to fend for himself, and all it took was one woman’s curiosity to make his confidence crumble.

The knife in his hand trembled. Any ill feelings towards you escaped in the faint breath he held watching your eyelashes flutter as you examined the placement of his suddenly inept fingers losing their grip on the slick vegetable peel.

“If-If you could–uh–back up,” Obito pleaded, swallowing thickly when you gave him a questioning glance.

Years he spent training dignity into his body. Grace, eloquence, charisma. All to undertake the name of a shinobi greater than himself: Madara.

Years forgotten in the turn of a clock and a dwindling facade. Regret, impatience, a sense of loss. Obito crumbled witnessing your friendly resolve contort to an aura of dejection. Shrinking away from him and going back to your pepper with an unreadable expression.

He knew why your change in demeanor bothered him, and for once, he didn’t loathe his intrinsic urge to soothe you. The words, “I’ll show you,” tumbled from his clumsy mouth, and the simultaneous sparks of understanding–of picturing exactly what he meant by his proposition–stunned you both. You stood still replaying the scene like a movie. He blushed darker, and darker still, realizing what he said.

Obito moved behind you. Standing in a way you didn’t have to look each other in the eye. This was preferable. At your back, he inched closer, to where your skin tickled from his shirt touching yours. Inching more; dragging his knitted socks along the sides of your feet, broaching the idea of his hips meeting your spine. His arms enveloped you, tilting his head to see over your shoulder while his hands found your wrists. Curving his chest to take you into his hold the same as his fingers fit themselves over yours. Discovering every ridge, every wrinkle, every soft tissue under the joints, every harsh scar winding down his pallid white skin. Thrilled to be embarking on an adventure unsuitable for mere acquaintances. Instead of admiring the rise and fall of his chest from afar, you were the cause of it. Swallowed into him whole. Becoming aware of the nervous pounding in his rib cage, huddled against the secret of his body bending to yours.

“Pinch the blade between your thumb and index. Lighter.” Under his guide, he slid your thumb into place. Your forefinger followed his lead. You lessened your grip as instructed. Made the mistake of turning your head, seeking his approval.. It had been so long since you had come to know the vulnerability of a man’s throat.

Obito never knew the enlightenment of a woman’s head resting on the crook of his neck, thus revealing an excruciating ache to keep you there until he was no more. Exposing a vicious yearning in his soul that would not rest until he succeeded, and the desire to do so struck him so candidly, water sprang to his eyes. He did not explain the surfacing emotions away, for you did not ask him to. Understanding the hitch in his breath like you understood your needs were the same as his. Melding into the comfort of his arms to nurture your shared interests.

“And my other hand?” you prompted him from his thoughts, sending your words to graze the edge of his jaw with a momentous degree of gentleness.

“Right,” he said in a voice barely above a whisper. He flipped the pepper so it was skin side down and clawed your fingers out of harm’s way. “It’s easier to cut this way.” Working as one, he steered your hands, ordering the pepper into neat slices while his lips were parted in concentration, gifting you with soft exhales brushing past the baby hairs curled around your ear.

All too soon, you moved on to the onion, the garlic, and the chicken. Separating when necessary to wash your hands, but joining again when the distance became too unbearable. Asking him to show you how to dice things as finely as he did, and never paying attention long enough to learn. He articulated the lesson in a thorough manner, but your gaze was elsewhere. Prioritizing the way his mouth moved over whatever he was saying.

“Where did you learn to cook?” you unintentionally interrupted him.

The shrug he gave enclosed you for a blissful, prolonged moment. “I’ve been alone most of my life, even as a kid. I taught myself through trial and error.” From the corner of your eye, you saw him staring at his white hand. “Even when I didn’t need to eat, sometimes it was nice to have something to do.”

“Did you have other hobbies before we met?”

Before we met. Like it was a significant event in both your lives where they changed for the better.

You liked the sound of it. Before we met. He liked it as well.

“No,” he answered, “and now you keep me busy enough I don’t have the time.” He gave another wry grin to stave off your hunger for a true smile.

Coming to terms with the fact the pale pink strips of chicken had been sitting on the cutting board for a length of time neither of you would address–considering it would be admitting how long Obito continued to hold you without reason–he stepped away from you and adjusted the burner on the stove. Distracting himself with the skillet, giving you the grace to fan your face and reign in your thoughts about your favorite customer.

~~~

While the chef himself put the finishing touches on dinner, you set the table and pulled out his chair for him as he walked the skillet over. He made your plate. You filled the water glasses. When he reached over for another helping of chicken and bumped your knee under the table, it had advanced from an accident. Over the days it became habitual. A subconscious decision to a solid choice. This was it. This was the routine. Having dinner with Obito in comfortable silence. A nice silence; broken by hums of enjoyment, compliments, and the occasional question. Awkward at first, like it always was, but as you fixed your eyes on your plates, and focused on anything besides the scorching embrace minutes ago, you settled into the new ordinary together.

His leg relaxed against yours. No longer did he jerk away. No longer did he check your reaction and jolt. He kept it there. Unlike the first few anxious meals together–full of nervous sweating and vapid musings–you maintained your heart rate, and he maintained his position.

“So, how did you get all this furniture up here anyway?” you asked. You learned a while ago to approach topics with care. Obito lived a vastly different life from you and finding common things to discuss was difficult. Of course, he didn’t shy away from his past, but relating to you when it came to anything beyond the last two years usually ended with him clearing his throat and picking at his callouses as he meandered his way through a dreadful sentence.

His life was hapless, but you were happy to be sitting next to him. You said, “I hope you don’t expect me to haul you a new mattress up this mountain.”

“Most of what’s here was from the last owner.” He wiped the corner of his mouth on his sleeve, surveying the barren den. “I didn’t need much else delivered besides the washing machine–which Kakashi brought himself. But.. I have been thinking of ordering a few things.”

“Very light weight things, I hope.”

He cocked his head at your frightful stare and waved you off like you owned all the muscle in the world. “A small side table to put at the end of the couch for a lamp or something. And maybe a coffee table.” It was obvious he was covering his mild enthusiasm, squirming in his seat and checking your face. “That’s it. Is that too much?”

“I’ll bring you anything you ask for.”

And you meant that. Truly. You’d make it happen.. Within reason.

Avoiding your reverent eye contact, Obito pushed his chopsticks around his plate. Wrestling his inner turmoil to the point of bouncing his knee against your outer thigh. “I apologize if I came off as rude earlier. You’ve far exceeded what was expected of you since we met. You cooked for me. Cleaned for me. Dedicated your time to taking care of me over the summer. Your food was amazing. Delicious, even, and I needed it. So what if you didn’t know how to cut an onion. That doesn’t make you any less competent-”

“Obito?” He looked up from his muttering, hosting a pitiful frown tugging at his scared lip. “You didn’t say anything like that out loud..” You narrowed your eyes. “Were you thinking it?”

“I.. Maybe.” Knotting his fingers on the table brought them closer to yours resting around your drinking glass. “What I’m trying to say is I appreciated you cooking for me when I was..” Tapping your knuckles on the back of his hand caused his jaw to flex in the dim light coming from the kitchen. “Earlier I was also thinking about how much you improved. I mean it, and I should’ve led with that instead.”

What an interesting man you’ve made him into. His past wasn’t alleged, but seeing him in his current state, the juxtaposition was great.

“Aw, am I melting your little heart, Obi?”

Oh, what a wicked spell you cast on him. Adding a wink to your teasing grin. Adding a wink to his name, cutting it short. Though, the raw sincerity in his praise turned you into the flustered one. “Maybe you are.” A truth neither of you were equipped to deal with at present.

Quickly shoving the rest of the cold food in your mouth and pushing back from the table with a loud screech from your chair, you rushed to excuse yourself. “I should get going. Dai needs his dinner, too.”

“D–?” Obito froze. You moved around him; picking up your plates, putting on your shoes, pulling on your sweater and untucking your hair from the collar. Still, he sat at the table. Blank faced. Processing. Motionless in the stark reality of you saying someone else’s name.

“My route is busy tomorrow, so I won’t be able to stop by the store and pick out a side table until Monday. Is that okay?” Maybe he nodded. You were already turning in the doorway to wave at him. “Bye, Obi!” You giggled at the nickname and disappeared beyond the small porch light.

Dai needs his dinner, too.

Dai needs his dinner, too.

Dai.. His.

“Who’s Dai?” Obito mumbled in the direction of your empty chair.

~~~

Monday couldn’t come soon enough.

After a grueling weekend of overtime with your coworkers helping sort packages following a mishap at the distribution center, you were more than grateful to have a quick route of only letter mail in the morning and the afternoon off.

Walking the streets of downtown Konoha, you adjusted Obito’s unassembled side table under your arm, and slowed your pace in awe to gander up at the municipal workers stringing orange lanterns across the cozy shop’s walkway. A banner above you whipped in the wind, welcoming all to the upcoming celebration. The alleys were decked with twinkly lights and hung charms spouting good fortune for the turn of season. You hadn’t attended a festival in years, and upon remembering them, your brain filled in the blank space of going alone. Coloring in a visual of someone standing next to you with his haori’s sleeve draped over your linked hands.

Sighing wistfully, you veered onto a side street towards Obito’s cabin, ready to give him the first thing he rightfully asked you for.

Rather, you dragged yourself up the mountainside to dump a burden into his outstretched arms.

“You’re really just going to sit there and watch?” Obito gestured to the many slabs of wood circling where he sat on the floor in front of the fireplace.

“I’m tired.” To prove so, you yawned and slouched further into the recesses of the couch, pouting extra hard the longer he adorned his face with a bored expression. You prodded his shoulder with your toe. “Don’t you have an extra blanket and pillow? I seem to remember bringing them a few weeks ago..”

It was a simple request expelled in a compelling lilt, Obito knew that. An ordinary ask between friends. An implication. An expectation. A desire to rest your eyes. Perhaps you had taken naps in many homes, but this was an intimacy foreign to him. No one had ever found peace and comfort and safety at his side long enough to nap.

“You want to sleep on my couch?” he repeated with a heaviness in his tone. An infinite depth in his intense stare.

Your voice escaped in a feathery exhale, “If that’s alright.”

It must’ve been alright with the way he jumped up and slid to his doorway in his socks. Yanking open the dresser, testing the strength of the last remaining handle. He was quick to return, but it wasn’t until you laid your head down, and he averted his gaze, did you realize it was his pillow. Not the extra you bought. His one pillow. From his bed. His pillow. You’d recognize the scent anywhere.

Cuddling the fuzzy blanket to your chin, you thanked him. “It’s been a long couple of days.” Your explanation was sealed with an abating, drowsy will to keep your eyes open. Blinking up at him standing in the middle of the room; an unsure sway in his stance, of which you consoled by nuzzling into the pillow like he did that one day at the end of summer.

The conflict in his eyes subsided. “Get some rest.”

~~~

Obito did his best to quiet his nerves. Wincing when he dropped a single screw. Gritting his teeth when he had to hammer a nail into place. Whipping around to check you were still asleep after he knocked his knee on a sharp corner and let loose a curse. He did his best to smother his unrighteous indulgences, and yet, as he completed another step on the instructions by sliding the drawer into place and thus finishing the project, he grew aware he was leaning against the couch again. Far from the first time he found himself magnetically drawn to your presence. Lord knows he felt the tug in his heart from the very first time you met. But this? What he was doing while you were asleep? He shouldn’t.. It was wrong. You were taken.. Unless he misheard.

Dai? Die? Dye? You could’ve said a different sentence entirely.

At least, that’s what he told himself when he thought about you having someone to go home to. To wake up to.

He tried to suffocate the ripple of envy, convincing himself in some twisted sense of joy that you chose to spend your half-day with him, which meant you valued him more than whoever you were seeing. If you were seeing someone.

Regardless, Obito felt like a king when he sidled up to the couch, pressed himself firmly against the side, and rested his temple on your exposed forearm. His eyelashes grazed just above your wrist, neighbors to your hand. And when your fingers curled–maybe on instinct, maybe seeking another to complete their circle–he became the champion of the gentleness of your palm. Beholding the demure brush of his jaw along the heel of your hand. Drowning in his impulses. Stopping once his lips reached your thumb.

Enraptured, he listened for your dreamlike inhales. Your faint exhales on the back of his neck.

Accepting his fate as a tempted man, he achieved his need for physical touch, and left it at that. A fleeting caress while you were sleeping. You weren’t even touching him–he was touching you–but it was a semblance of what he could have had if he were born of a different fate. If he had led the honorable existence you deserved; and if you were undoubtedly single, this is what he could have had. If he were brave enough to ask and receive.

Even so, with the little skin contact he earned, his worries relaxed into thoughts of optimism.

Even so, he sighed into your palm and tore himself from his longing before he had a lapse in judgment and discovered just how considerate your fingers were cupping his cheek.

Even so, with his back turned, he did not bear witness to your eyes screwed closed, steeling yourself against the yearn to smooth down his hair from tickling your arm. He did not see the slight twitch of your forefinger in the direction of his nape. Did not notice the sympathy in your eyes, nor your poor performance of pretending to wake right then.

You stirred into a sitting position and awed over the finished side table. “Oh, nice! It’ll look good next to the couch. Not too out of place with the other wood furniture.” You tried to sound as natural as possible, but with Obito’s shyness under your observance, and your urge to rub the spot on your arm where the heat from his cheek was dissipating, the air in the room changed from amiable to awkward.

Still, you smiled through the adversity taking your heart hostage, aching with a need to gather him in your arms and tell him it was okay to want to be held. 

“It’s–yeah–it’s fine there,” Obito said, finally, standing back while you walked the side table next to the armrest where he usually sat, facing the blank wall next to the fireplace; you’d caught him more than once sitting there alone in the dark with a mug of cold coffee in his hand.

That reminded you. “Your coffee table will be next, I think.” You tapped your chin. “Just need to find one I can carry.”

“You don’t have to go through the trouble..” He was already wringing his arm. “The side table is big enough, my coffee can go there,” he mumbled his way through another meek excuse to evade your generosity.

“Stop acting like a bother,” you bulldozed over his self-doubt. “I can start looking for one today while I’m out shopping. Dai didn’t like the salmon I bought him, so it’s back to the canned chicken, I guess.” You snorted and gave an elaborate shrug after letting go of the doorframe to slip on your shoes, opening the front door to bright red roses blooming between the gaps in the porch railing. “I tried to spoil him with the fancy stuff, and that’s what I get.”

You turned to wave goodbye and caught the tail end of Obito rearranging his face from an expression so glum it caused your stomach to clench. You couldn’t understand what was wrong, so you assumed the worst: you were too harsh on him earlier, using a curt tone when telling him to stop calling himself a bother. Yes, that must’ve been what soured his feelings.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you, but you should know..” you started. His interest was piqued. Obito was visibly hanging onto your every word, leaning towards you with a greediness in his undivided, unwavering, blatant attention. It was all-consuming, and flattering to be fully engrossed by him. “You’re not a burden. Never have been, never will be. Whatever you need, I’ll get it.”

“I know.” He jerked his chin at his voice cracking.

“Do you, I wonder?” Throwing on your hat, out you went. To your life. To your city. To your grocery store. To your familiar faces on your way home. To your bed. To your.. someone.

Leaving him alone. Alone in his cabin that was only cozy when you helped warm it. Alone with his thoughts when you waved right before the bend in his driveway and ducked under the branch of yellowing leaves blocking his line of sight.

It was all but confirmed. You have someone waiting for you at home. Maybe?

Obito hung his head and released a frustrated growl through the tightness in his throat. With his hands covering his face, he groaned, “I’m so fucked.”

~~~

Sitting across from Obito at his dining table, you flipped through the hardback cookbook you ordered a few days ago in preparation to plan out dinners for the week. It had become a frequent occurrence that you’d pick out a meal and were missing exactly one ingredient, so you suggested having an afternoon where you sat together and made a list to take to the grocery store because whoever writes these recipes really thinks the average person has ungrated nutmeg and four different cheeses on hand–

However, Obito was once again vying for your input before you could read another line of the page you were on.

“Should we choose one from here?” Obito’s large hand encroached your peripheral as he slid the infantalyzing Cookbook for Singles towards you. You gave him nary a glance, much less a chance of consideration. You returned your nose to the book you already had open in an attempt to re-read the same sentence for the third time.

“Don’t you think we can handle something more advanced?”

He hesitated. “Is it not still.. relevant?”

“Uh, I mean, those recipes are a little too simple in that one, don’t you think? Here, why don’t you pick out one of the other magazines I got from the bookstore. They were expensive. And use more than just salt and pepper as seasoning.”

Running his fingers over the trenches of scars on his forearm, cheeks red with shame, he conceded and put the cookbook away, choosing to unwrap a magazine sealed in plastic to bury his woes in. Mind too unfocused to realize it was upside down until you got up to leave–early–and teased him about it.

~~~

It took you a week, but you were proud of the coffee table you found. You brought it to Obito almost in one piece, leaning the tabletop against the porch banister, handing him the legs and screws from your mail bag. You expected him to appreciate the furniture, yet he seemed less than enthused; lips thinned into a grimace whereas the corners of his eyes were crinkled with disappointment.

“Is something wrong?” you asked, standing near the steps. He was across from you idling in the doorway, fiddling with his sleeve cuff, gaze drifting anywhere except at you. You waited for him to respond to your question, but he continued his indecisive movements. Obito had been in a strange mood lately, and this was no exception.

Patiently, you raised your eyebrows and gave him room to sort out his thoughts. Etching the image of him rubbing his hand over the back of his neck and squeezing his nape into your mind palace, along with the subtle flex of his chest under his gray t-shirt as he struggled to speak, yet remained silent. There was a question in his eyes, but he refused to ask it. You knew him well enough to understand that much.

In fact, you knew his tendencies as well as your own. You were also awfully cognizant of the fact you had trouble voicing the things on your mind as of late when it came to the man who graduated from modest daydreams to obsessive cyclical notions of more. He was never not who you were thinking about when the girls in the breakroom were talking about dates and crushes. Stammering nonsense when your coworkers asked about your mysterious customer at the end of your route who took all your free time. If they knew the truth, that you were serving Obito Uchiha, they would faint. You quite liked the idea of that.

He was so silly, not telling you what was worrying him, just like you were silly bottling these feelings and locking them away. There was no reason to deny what you’ve known for months, but you couldn’t confess. The fear of rejection, of ruining his progress, of muddying his trust, halted you. You had to suppress yourself until it was clear he was ready to hear them. Until he made the first move. A real move. Like asking you on a date. Or outright kissing you. Something neither of you could misinterpret.

To preserve what you had, you would wait until he made a move. If he ever made a move.

“Dai’s appointment is at 2 o’clock, so I should-”

“Should get going,” he finished, a bitter sadness in his tone. He didn’t say it in a spiteful way, but the host of emotions overtaking his speech were difficult to parse. A certain hardness to his words cutting you like stone, then a soft exhale of apology in his sagging shoulders.

“I’m sorry.” You twisted the strap of your mail bag. “I’ll make it up to you tomorrow, I promise. With a big surprise!” Excitement rushed in your veins as you remembered what day it was, knowing your week of coordination behind his back would soon pay off.

“A surprise?”

“A big surprise,” you said, holding your arms out wide, roughly the size of a large gourd. He did not get it. But, whatever was distressing him lessened its strength, allowing him to step onto the planks of his porch to see you off. Walking into the dappled light, if only briefly.

You said, “I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow.”

And he questioned, “Early?”

“Early,” you replied, not giving him any more clues.

It was hard leaving him there, but if you wanted to make Daidai’s neutering appointment on time and finish your coworker’s route to ensure you scored his day off tomorrow in exchange for him doing your route, you needed to say goodbye to Obito.

It was never easy. You supposed at one point it might have been, but not anymore. Not for a long time has it been easy to walk the bend in his driveway aware you wouldn’t see him until the sun rose again.

~~~

The jean jacket you hugged around yourself was a poor replacement for your bed. It hardly stopped your teeth from clacking, or your frosty breath from showing. It did not warm the crisp air stinging your lungs, nor did it provide shelter from the bits of hay floating in the wind. You were up bright and early, as promised, waiting for the Autumn Festival to open.

Dai’s surgery went well and was spending most of the day recovering at the vet’s office. He was in good hands, though, that didn’t stop you from tossing and turning the entire night, no matter how much he scratched you when you hustled him into a carrier.

And yet, your fatigue was forgotten the moment a man dressed in a jonin vest got one word deep into his speech about the history of the festival. You were off! Sprinting for the older woman’s booth at the front and skidding to a halt, wrapping your arms around the biggest pumpkin available. So large your fingers could not touch when you strained to lift it. Others must’ve spotted it last night as well, for they too scrambled from their spots at the beginning of the street and raced for your pumpkin, but you defended your territory, baring your teeth at anyone who dared reach for it.

“I’ll take this one!” you exclaimed at the baffled woman behind the cash register, raising your chin high and mighty against the adults around you muttering about your score and how their precious children deserved it more.

~~~

Shocked awake in a cold sweat, Obito acted on instinct. He threw off his covers and ran to the front yard in a state of disarray, ripping the door open so hard it slammed against the wall and swung on its hinges. He tripped. A twig snagged his pajama pants. One of his house shoes was left on the porch step like a princess’ glass slipper, the other was lost to a pile of crunchy orange leaves he barreled through as he yelled a heroic “I’m here!” after your first cry for help.

“What’s wrong?” Heart in his throat, he looked you over in a panic, jumping his gaze from one body part to another until he reached your dirty loafers and found nothing out of the ordinary. Once more for good measure, he visually assessed you for injuries, pausing at certain points–his favorite points–lauding the special way your lips lifted in a scoff. Observing your windswept hair and experiencing the rush of want in his muscles, reaching forward to brush the loose strands from your face, wishing to replace the breeze with his fingers combing gently through it.

He’d only been near you for seconds, and already his convictions were forgotten.

“Are you going to take this stupid thing or keep gawking at me?”

Confused, he panned down to the object pressed into his stomach and spoke with all the airy mystification of a child receiving an unprompted gift. “A pumpkin?” It was a gasp of awe. “You bought me a pumpkin.”

“Hurry,” you pleaded, fingers squeaking on the rind as it slipped from your hands, not seeing his were outstretched in the first place.

Obito whispered relief between his teeth at the divine intervention of a pumpkin of all things stopping him from acting the fool. Instead of your head cradled to his chest as his ridiculous mind ought to do, he held the pumpkin tighter to his middle than necessary, grasping at your fleeting body heat sinking through the long sleeves of the thin shirt he slept in.

“Phew!” You shook out your arms and patted the gourd he had a death grip on, sending a swell of vibrations to his core while you amused yourself at the hollow smacking sound it made. You glanced up at him for his reaction. The joy was shared, even if he didn’t smile; he was sure to highlight the ardency in his wide eyes when he regarded you, so there was no doubt your gift went underappreciated.

It was the least he could do. It was the most he could do.

You smoothed your hand along the grooves of the pumpkin, committing to the accidental clasp of your palm over the back of his fingers. Investing in an intimate touch he longed for. “It’s the exact variety you wanted to grow for carving.”

“You didn’t–This is too much–and–you don’t have one–” His denials came as they usually did, as a cumbersome and mopey spew of minimizing his feelings. You were being tender with him again. Valuing him. Showering him in more affection than he’d experienced in a lifetime combined. You were too sweet to him, especially considering the sinful themes of his daydreams keeping him awake last night. Someone like him did not deserve your gentleness.

“Just accept it and invite me inside, Obito.”

Not for the first time, he shut up and listened to you. Followed your lead. Embraced the impressive pumpkin and watched you unfold newspapers from your mailbag with numb fingers, bending over to where he could catch a glimpse under your jacket and see you were wearing a cable knit sweater with your standard pantyhose and tight skirt. He was beginning to wonder if you owned any other clothes, even as he changed into his standard navy blue cotton pants and white t-shirt himself.

“Were you working today?”

“Nope,” you said, snapping your fingers as something occurred to you, and heading to the kitchen to gather a random assortment of knives for him to carve with. “Got the entire day off. I’m yours.”

As casual as you made it sound–I’m yours–it was anything but when you set up his place at the end of the coffee table and made eye contact for what was meant to be a passing second.

Tension was held in the slight tic of his eyebrow. His parted lips. An impalpable whisper confining his tongue. An unspeakable luxury.

You were his for the day.

Obito failed to speak, so you supplied a distraction from your coy choice of words. “There’s no way I could’ve carried another pumpkin with me, so I’m gonna write letters to my friends back in Iwa.” You sat at the other end of the table and shook out your mail bag, dumping your stationary around you. Rolls of washi tape bounced, stickers sprinkled like snow, an assortment of lovely cards spilled from the table to the floor, and pens clattered wherever there was room left.

“I’ll start a fire for us,” he said.

Us.

You were his for the day.

~~~

Time passed in crackling logs and glowing embers tumbling to the stone hearth. In folded paper and seeds plunked onto a baking tray. Of black ink and stringy orange pulp smeared onto palms. Laughter and quiet. Noise and reflection. Mindlessness and thoughtfulness. It crept in introducing parts of one another’s past. In shins brushing under the table. In feet touching through pantyhose and socks. Time revealed itself in the culmination of hours spent agonizing over silly crushes.

Time crawled as Obito wiggled the knife into the same shape he’d been cutting out since he started. Eyes trained above the stem of the pumpkin, watching you lick envelope seals, press them closed, and add them to the top of the growing pile.

“It’s not like growing up as a civilian was always awful,” you said, carrying on the conversation. “Iwa’s Shinobi Academy was giant, and we attended a class of fifteen people near the back entrance to help protect us. Avoiding bullies really brought us together. Most of us worked in the government buildings downtown, so we were able to stay in touch everyday. Between my school friends and my post office friends, we made our own little close knit family. A lot of us became roommates after being emancipated from our families. But,” –you tapped the pink gel pen on your bottom lip– “that did make the dating pool incredibly small. We all ended up swapping spit with each other at some point. Oh–!”

Jealousy stung the pit of Obito’s stomach, inadvertently causing his hand to act on instinct.

A branch popped in the fire, lighting the scarred half of his face in haunting shadows, illuminating an unsettling glint in his heavy-lidded gaze. He extracted the knife from the Jack-o-Lantern’s eye socket. Pulling rind and guts. Dragging seeds out like macabre bugs to litter the newspaper on the coffee table. Triangle eye cutout on the tip of his kitchen knife like a head on a spike.

And as menacing as he appeared to others, you laughed.

“I didn’t date any of the people I’m writing to,” you teased, thinking his reaction was in jest, ignorant to the true resentment influencing his foul mood. “It’s not my thing to keep in touch with past flings, anyway. I like the present, and the future, much better. You know that.” He did. But he liked hearing you say it more. Your affirmations helped settle the beast within him. Tame him. Charm him into complying. Enticing him to unfold his legs so you could stretch yours out at the first nudge of your heel on his knee. Placing your legs in between his like you belonged there, as if his feet on either side of your thighs would protect you from harm.

“I take it you didn’t meet your Prince Charming?”

“Nope. Just a bunch of frogs.” You intended it to be a joke, but of course his mouth kept it’s tight line, turned down at the corners despite his best effort to keep his bad temper at bay.

“What’s it like.. dating in Iwa?”

You waffled, holding your hand out flat and rocking it back and forth. “As bad as Konoha, I imagine.”

Obito noticed your pause and glanced up at you, hearing your expectation for him to agree, but he shook his head and gave a small shrug, returning to his carving. Using his white hair and black eyelashes to shield the dullness in his eyes. “Do I strike you as the type of man who dates?” Even saying the word had his heart pounding in his ears, muffling your response which he sorely required to quell his anxiety.

“Are you?” you ventured.

“Kind of hard for someone like me to do that.” It was an easy answer. One he could physically, and practically, dismiss with a flash of his knife at his exiled life in a cabin in the woods on top of a mountain. A default response that gave nothing else away. Not his longing, not his hurt, not his raging grudge against anyone who had the pleasure of having you in their arms and taking it for granted.

“Do you have any interest in dating?”

“It’s not something I ever considered for myself.” To keep his mind busy, Obito slapped his palm on the pumpkin head to steady it and drove the knife into the stenciled gap-toothed smile, sawing at the jagged edges. But in the midst of getting out his frustrations, he missed the sudden way your face fell.

“Dating strangers sucks,” you said to fill the silence. “I got stood up a lot, even when it was my friends trying to set me up with someone they knew. It was just as awkward if they showed up, regardless. You’d think meeting someone for the first time would lend to talking about literally anything, but I rarely felt a connection with them. They were so boring; I’d rather be sitting at home watching TV.” Twiddling your pen in your fingers, you sighed at the miserable memories. “I’ve had long term relationships in the past, but the dating part wasn’t all it lived up to be. Maybe I watch too many romcoms, but I think it’s much more romantic to be friends first. Fall in love slowly. Deeply. Settle down with one another without realizing it, like it was the next natural step of the relationship.”

Your grin was one of godlike loveliness, and Obito fumed from across the table, unable to read your mind if the twinkle in your eye was attributed to the card in your hand decorated with glittery butterflies, or if it was for him? Or if it was for him?

Even now, Obito couldn’t do it. Couldn’t get the words out. Who’s Dai? Is he your boyfriend? Do you go home to him every night? Do you share a bed? Are you in love with him?

Clutching onto what little hope he had left, he worded his question innocuous enough to deny what he really wanted to know, “Have you made friends since moving to Konoha?” A friend like him. Or Dai. Someone you could.. see yourself with..

“I think so.”

He twisted the knife deeper, deeper into the heart of the pumpkin. Juices weeping like blood over his blade. Staring straight ahead and clenching his jaw due to what you did to him.

Under the table you were shaking your foot. He had the same nervous habit, but with how you were positioned, the movement rubbed his inner thigh. A spot no one else had touched except for him. A high, dangerous spot near the crease of his pants. Sensitive, so sensitive it had his nerves praising each quick graze. Stimulating a stir of motives he had trouble ignoring.

To save himself further embarrassment, he cleared his throat and suggested you start lunch, feigning interest in finishing his carving before getting up from the table and tiptoeing down the hall to the bathroom only once he heard you slicing radishes in the kitchen.

And it was as you placed the finished salad on the table, he returned to the den with flushed cheeks, sitting next to you like any other day. Except, today was different. Today you were his, and you had another treat in store.

“Can I come over Saturday night?”

“At this point you could show up unannounced and I wouldn’t throw you out.”

“Good! Be sure to wear your gray sweatshirt and sweatpants.”

~~~

Eager children pushed their way up cobbled streets, dashing from one game stall to the next, burlap sacks stuffed with candy bouncing on their hip, eyes shining under their masks from the festive lanterns hung above bales of hay. Spindly trees with gnarled fingers stole the moon, clinging onto the last of their brown leaves fluttering in the pitch black night. Somewhere, in a deep forest, a single hollowed pumpkin’s ghoulish face flared from the waxy candle in its mouth, acting as a beacon for the companionless girl roving the sylvan domain, and once she found her way inside the Home of the Lonely, the shuttered windows flickered with life.

“See! Now we match!” You spun in an unnecessary circle to show off your gray set of sweatshirt and sweatpants with the stripe down the side and logo embroidered on the chest just like his.

Obito was about as unamused as ever. “You bought the same clothes as me. Great.”

“We look cute together,” you baited him, laying your hints on thick by holding out your arm along his so he could see the stripes were the exact shade of blue and everything, as if it weren’t obvious. But to you, it was simply a ploy to be near him. To touch him through the layers of fabric. To play into your height difference, giggling at his dark eyes feasting on how you were dressed.

“They look better on you.”

“Wow. An actual compliment. This truly is a special occasion. I might just faint.” You put your hand on your forehead and tipped backwards, earning a groan from him at your antics.

“I’ve never seen you in casual clothes,” he said. “It’s different.. You look nice.” Maybe your glee was too obvious, clasping your hands to your face and cooing over him. He unintentionally copied you at first, bringing his hand to his cheek, unaware he was running his fingers over his scars while fixing his gaze on your hair. You wore it styled down for the first time, and when he detected he was staring again, he failed to eliminate his stutter. “S-So, why did you want to come over so late?”

You offered him a pitying, snarky titter. An evil cackle. A devious twirl on your foot and brandishing of your night of entertainment in your hands. On a dime, you stopped spinning, reached into your mailbag, and deadpanned, “We’re celebrating.” 

He squinted at the thin plastic packages. “Movies?” He scanned the array of titles you fanned in your left hand, lifting his features in an impressed way at your selection. “Horror movies.”

“I didn’t know what you preferred, so I brought some slashers, some thrillers, a true crime documentary or two, and uh..” you trailed off, grabbing a few more from your bag, sheepishly avoiding eye contact at the pretty pink cases next to the black and red ones. “Some romcoms. You know, in case you get scared or whatever and want to watch something lighthearted before bed.”

“Uh-huh.”

You didn’t need to see him to know he was suspicious. “Anyway! Do you drink?”

Obito took the six pack from your right hand, then another, then a third, wondering what else your bottomless bag could hold. “It’s been years since I’ve drank, but the better question is how are we going to watch any of these? In case you weren’t aware, I was denied a TV, so my house isn’t up to date on state of the art technology.”

“Would you stop bringing that up,” you muttered. “Pardon me for not carrying an entire TV up a thousand stairs. I have my projector with me. Now, go make yourself useful and put the beer in the fridge while I set it up.”

Smirking to himself, he did as you told him. Besides, he needed the break. The time to open the freezer and let the artificial icy air compete with the heat on his throat. Cooling his skin, and his mind. He needed to keep a level head for this night to go smoothly. Gray sweatpants were not forgiving when he let his thoughts wander.

Carrying one of the six packs, he rounded the corner to the den at the exact moment you bent over to adjust the device on the coffee table, rocking your hips side to side as you lined up a white image on the wall in front of his spot on the couch.

Obito set the drinks on the side table and immediately opened one.

This would be a long night.

“Okay! Let’s pick the movies.” You clapped and gestured for him to sit on the couch with you. Digging through your mailbag, you found the rest of the DVDs and began reciting the synopsis on the back to him, snickering at the bad grammar on the B-movies, and waggling your eyebrows at the half naked ladies on the covers. Eventually Obito relaxed his hunched posture; unfolding his arms from his lap to help flip through the collection, musing about how when he was kid the only movies he saw were in theaters on the rare occasion he could afford it. He didn’t realize how convenient they were to watch nowadays.

“This one, I guess?”

You ‘ooh’ed. “Night Terrors III. That’s a good one. And how about one from this pile over here?”

“The romantic comedy pile,” he supplied, giving you a hard stare.

“Like I said, it’s to lighten the mood in case it gets too scary.”

“You mean to watch before you walk home alone in the dark.”

“No!” you huffed.

“Then–if you’re not afraid–pick whatever’s on top and we’ll watch that first.”

“First?” Your voice was but the squeak of a mouse. It was quite late and you only planned to watch two or three movies at most. A nail-biting horror, then an upbeat romantic comedy to make you laugh and soothe the paranoia before walking out into a creepy forest at the witching hour. Horror, then comedy. That’s the order you always watched them in. You supposed you could do comedy, horror, comedy–but then Dai might worry when you came home late.

“Unless..” His breath tickled your hair standing on end. “You’re too scared.”

Obito couldn’t be serious, teasing you like this. With Night Terrors III’s egregious run time, it had to be horror, then comedy, that’s all you had time for.

You made up your mind.

The horror DVDs in your lap slid to the floor and the stack of comedies tumbled into the projector as you scrambled for it with the Night Terrors III disc in your hand, intent on playing it first.

“Oh, no you don’t!” Obito laughed–maybe even smiled–when he grabbed the back of your sweatshirt and pulled you to the couch. But his sudden bout of silliness was knocked from him. He misjudged his strength and tugged you too hard. Again.

Your feet slipped from under you and a blur of gray rose to your face. You latched onto the solid object breaking your fall and slowly drew your gaze upwards: over the dizzying rise and fall of the embroidered logo, the divided tan and white column of a neck, observing a cheek marred with pinkened scar tissue peppered with grains of freshly shaved stubble, and a set of persuasive lips waiting for you to notice them. Obito sighed what oxygen was in his lungs, and you watched him do it, just as he watched you inhale the smallest gasp.

Intoxicating heart beats surged under your flattened palms. You squirmed to relieve the pain of his hip prodding your waist, serving only to bring you closer. He had you draped over him, using his body to break your fall, but his presence did not subdue the heady rush of excitement turning your world upside down.

His lips were most definitely trembling. You witnessed their every tic. Every motion of his tongue wetting them. Their dull shine, for which you had the remedy.

“Sorry–” He struggled to speak, voice quiet like a suppressed secret.

“It’s okay,” you said, shaking your head an imperceptible amount. It took all your strength to command your gaze up, away from his lips, to his eyes. His eyes. Oh, his ravenous eyes; devouring you the indecent way a friend shouldn’t. Fanning flames in places it shouldn’t. Clenching your thighs when it shouldn’t.

But, God, was it exhilarating being ravished by him.

With his arm pinned between you and the couch, you felt the flex of his bicep drawing you in. Fingers of steel letting go of your top to spread over your shoulder blades. Traveling the length of your spine to the curve of your lower back with purpose. With courage. A blissful endeavor.

“We can watch the slasher first,” he whispered, and you experienced every vowel, every constant, every wistful letter; the vibrations, the hums, the pauses. He could order you to do anything and you would comply.

He was powerful, he was strong, and he made you weak.

“No, no,” you soothed him. “We’ll watch the comedy first.”

You meant for your next move to be consoling, if not a bit flirtatious. You rubbed his chest back and forth in an arc from pec to pec, batting your eyelashes, glancing down at his lips and lingering there. The motion was intended to convey an absolute avalanche of hints, but instead of reading between the lines, he added a quick, “If you’re sure,” and stopped exploring your body before he entered the territory of more than friends.

Maybe Obito was the least observant man on the planet. Or he wasn’t ready. Or he was inexperienced. Or he was nervous. Or he wasn’t all that into you. He was difficult to read, especially when he coughed into his fist and ran his palm over his thigh as if your compromising position was something to be ashamed of.

Alas, you ducked under his arm and followed suit, finding your own section of the couch to dominate. Took your first breath not solely comprised of the minty scent of his toothpaste and reached past him to grab a beer for yourself.

This would be a long night.

Audibly swallowing, he began to say, “Really, we can watch Terrible Nights or whatever–”

“Shut up.” He shut up. “We’ll watch It Happened One Winter.”

Sitting an appropriate distance apart for casual acquaintances, you put the disc in and forced yourself to sink into the cushions after pressing play. The speakers funneled tinny music over the opening credits, suspending your stilted conversation in lieu of the title screen. The air of nonchalance you both emitted was apparent–sipping on your beers, heads facing forward, eyes strictly on the actress blotting her running mascara–but the separation between your bodies was a grievous error. Wide enough for two hands to fit.

Dust motes drifted past the projector’s beam of light. Around you, the den was illuminated by the story of a woman arguing with her boyfriend, of her not being treated right so she left their apartment in tears and bumped into an attractive stranger on the street, and his coffee bumped into her new coat. Soon, he would offer to pay for a replacement and she–frazzled from her boyfriend’s degrading words–would offer to buy him a new coffee. They would both laugh off the blundering first impression and agree to go inside the coffee shop and thus begin the start of their relationship. You knew the plot well, having watched this film hundreds of times when you lived alone in Iwa. Obito, however, was thoroughly engaged.

The scene transitioned from bright city lights to a quaint cafe for the actors to sell their witty banter while the man gathered napkins to dry off her coat. Obito leaned forward and rested his beer can on his knee; his other hand gripped the armrest, running his thumbnail over the fabric. His eyebrows were tucked in concentration, absorbed in the fictional couple’s first meeting. Wringing his mouth when the male lead touched the woman's hand from across the table and her inner monologue revealed how tender it was in comparison to her boyfriend’s.

“Does that actually happen?” he blurted, pointing at the screen.

“Does what happen?”

“Her leaving her boyfriend for the guy she just met. That’s where this is going, right? Does that happen in real life? Breaking up to pursue someone else?”

You shrugged, hoping to alleviate his bizarre hounding. “Sure. It happens. Sometimes you don’t realize how unhappy you are in a relationship until someone else shows you. She ruined his suit too, but instead of getting mad like her boyfriend would, he understood it was a mistake. He’s kind, and patient, and clearly in love with her from the start. See, he’s putting his arm around the back of her chair and giving her that lovey-dovey look you give someone when you feel the spark. That’s a clear sign he’s interested in her, but is respecting her boundaries. It’s very romantic.”

“In conclusion, she’s willing to leave her boyfriend–who she shares an apartment with–for this stranger because she feels a romantic connection.”

“Yes.”

“So, he has a chance with her.”

“Yes.”

“She’s leaving her boyfriend because she likes the other guy better.”

“Yes, Obito.”

“Okay,” he grunted and downed the rest of his beer, getting another for himself and cracking open the tab for yours before handing it over.

For the first time in weeks, he could relax.

Empathetic music swelled during the messy break up scene, then the mood shifted to smooth jazz once the couple reunited and the woman confessed her feelings. You repeated the lines quietly to yourself, whispering words of grandeur to no one. But Obito listened. He watched. He learned.

The couple arrived at her apartment door and Obito was captivated. The camera closed in and they tilted their heads. On the couch, he did the same. He leaned his head to the side, as did you. The movie went quiet, only the sound of their moans when, at last, they kissed. He heard you sigh, but he couldn’t look away. Not when the woman invited the man inside and Obito discovered another thing he was unfamiliar with.

Most people would find watching sex scenes together awkward, but not Obito. He was enamored. Viewing it like research. Fascinated by the actor’s ability to undress another person with ease, unhooking her bra like it was nothing and tossing it to the floor along with her blouse. Noticing where the man put his hands and what sort of response it gave. Following where he decided to put his mouth on her and storing the information for later, if needed. He may never get the chance to use it, but he could dream.

“You look like you’re watching a nature documentary!”

Obito whipped around and glared. Your hand was clasped over your mouth, trying your best to cover your snort, but it was futile. The more his face turned sour, the more you doubled over with another round of belly laughs.

“Whatever,” he moped, rousing a hiccup from you as you reigned in control over your mouth and what came out of it.

“Sorry,” you said, positioning yourself to where you faced him, bringing your knee onto the couch. “You’re so adorable, I couldn’t help it.”

He knocked his knee into yours. “Sounds like a strange way to admit you enjoy teasing me.”

“So you can read between the lines.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” you answered. You stood up to go to the bathroom, pointing out you were leaving him so he could watch the rest of the sex scene in private, provoking him with a sly, knowing smile, to which he sneered.

~~~

You frowned at the bathroom mirror above the sink. Boring into your own image. Picturing what he saw. What he didn’t see.

Running your hand through your hair, it was still cold on your scalp from where it sat on your thigh, fingers open and palm towards the ceiling in hopes of being noticed. You left it there, overt and obvious, for an embarrassing amount of time, but it remained overlooked in favor of the picture-perfect romance happening before his eyes.

Maybe he saw your desperation and politely ignored it to save you the humiliation. Maybe he didn’t think your hand needed to be completed by another.

“Or maybe,” you spoke aloud to your hand, “he’s just an idiot.”

You blew out a long breath and leaned over the sink. Willing positivity to flow in and fight the negativity bringing down your night. Invoking the alcohol to quiet your thoughts about you being the one who could not take a hint.. “He did say this looked better on me.” You pulled at the cuffs of your sweatshirt and stepped back to truly appreciate the compliment. When he said it earlier, it came out of his mouth so swiftly, you babbled whatever came to mind first to dispel his sudden affability. But you had to admit, seeing yourself dressed down out of work clothes had a special sort of allure to it. Perhaps more so to him, who had never seen you this way; the way you would be dressed if this were a normal day and you two lived together. “He said I looked nice.” And you did. He thought so.

Accepting your fate, you finished freshening yourself up with a swipe of his chapstick across your lips, and left the bathroom in time to recognize the ending credits music.

“Ah, perfect,” he goaded you from across the room, holding something in his hand. “I was about to play this and didn’t want you to miss a second of it.”

“Great.”

Obito took the initiative to put the disc in this time, ensuring there were no tricks up your sleeve to play another sappy movie. The tray on the projector closed and haunting ambient noise rolled out like a fog over the room. You perched on the edge of the couch and wiped your clammy hands on your sweatpants. A vivid green forest played on the cabin wall; its cheerful colors in dissonance with the eerie chords.

“Relax.”

You flicked your gaze to the owner of the voice and could do anything but relax. Obito had sat forward to get a better look at you, his elbows on his knees and chin in his palm, eyes half closed from booze. He looked.. sweet. Not smiling, but nearly. So sweet. Until he opened his mouth again.

“Unless you want me to shut it off because you’re too scared.”

“I’m not scared,” you said and heeded his annoying advice by relaxing your tense muscles. He turned the volume up a notch on the projector and flopped on the couch, and like the oaf he was, he brought you with him.

The gap was no longer between your two bodies. It was defeated. Vanquished by Obito, who sat closer to the seam of the cushion separating you, causing you to dip towards his weight. You slanted until you were fully supported by him, the length of his body cozied to yours. The roundness of his shoulder at your cheek. His strong upper thigh bracing under the impact of your hand accidentally landing there.

His heart skipped a beat, but yours more than made up for it, hammering a sweltering flush to your skin. You let go of him and sputtered a lightning fast apology, praying you could save the rest of your dignity by wiggling into a better position, but it was useless. No matter how much you squirmed, you would eventually come to rely on him to keep you upright, slouching until you were curled into him, with his arm and leg too close to call this anything other than what it was. Cuddling.

Your hints were working. You had to believe your hints were working. You needed your hints to be working, because if this was an inebriated accident, you’d never recover from the tragedy of embracing him from afar.

~~~

Thirteen minutes into the runtime and you were making your second excuse to leave the room.

“Do we need more beer? I’ll get us more beer.”

“Remember to turn off the kitchen light this time.”

You grumbled choice words and flipped the switch, shuffling into the jet black den with a fresh six pack. You settled into your spot on the couch and swore he sat unfathomably closer. His legs were spread as well, taking up the space you depended on to not fall prey to your inclinations. Annoying.

~~~

By complete happenstance, you needed to wash melted chocolate off your fingers from the candy bar you ate. The blood-chilling, heart-racing suspenseful plucky violin strings playing as the murderer walked into the room of a sleeping girl with a knife behind his back had nothing to do with your sudden absence.

~~~

“Just gonna–” You pointed at the bathroom and got up.

“I know what you’re doing,” Obito called after you, ever observant. “You’re leaving right when things get scary.”

“No, I’m not,” you shouted from behind the closed door.

Alone, Obito finished another beer to avoid acknowledging the murder happening on screen. For a while he was critiquing the inaccuracies. How the victim should be gasping for their last breaths, not screaming. The sound effect of a blade slicing through skin when it should be a pop. Too much blood in some areas, too little in others. It wasn’t real. He reminded himself again; it wasn’t real. But it was hard to remember it wasn’t real when you were gone, leaving him to fend for himself. That’s why he needed you beside him. To bring him into the present.

His mail carrier. His reluctant acquaintance. His friend. His best friend.

No–you were more. You had to be, because if you weren’t, he’d never forgive himself for losing the opportunity to call you the best thing that has ever happened to him.

~~~

It was a coincidence you paced in the bathroom until the music died down and the shrieks ceased.

Opening and closing the door behind you, you crossed your arms and prepared to sit for an average of seven to eight minutes until the next killing, but when you hunkered into place next to Obito, you knew you belonged there for longer.

It started cautiously. Escalating minute by minute towards the climax. First, fingertips brushed a gray sweatshirt. Next, they bent to catch the material between the forefinger and thumb. Curling more to take it into their grasp. To feel the person underneath shudder out a breath, and wince. In the movie, the girl with chin length brown hair awoke, but instead of her nightmare disappearing, he stood before her, and she released a blood-curdling scream.

All at once, you clutched onto Obito’s arm and he, in turn, closed his eyes to the chase scene, his painful grip on your thigh wrinkling your sweats where his fingers dug in. Your stomach flipped at the thrills overtaking you–the fright, the giggly rush of endorphins, the relief–but being so near, you discerned Obito’s stifled panting and alarming pulse.

You lifted your face from where you childishly ducked it into his shoulder and kept your tone light, asking, “Are you okay?”

“It’s.. bad memories,” he said, blinking rapidly at the image of the killer’s pool of blood oozing on his cabin wall.

“Oh! Oh my God, I’m such an idiot.” You sprang forward and paused the movie on the black screen with tiny white names scrolling by. For him, it could end on a good note. The little girl won. He didn’t need to see the after credits scene. “I’m so sorry, Obito. I wasn’t thinking, playing something so insensitive.”

He shushed you in a croaky voice, “It bothers me less than you think, but.. it’s better when you’re here. Easier to deal with. And it’s better when I’m here too, right? You’re less scared.”

A statement lost on two people who dare not confess to its accuracy.

“Yes. I’m less scared when you’re here.”

Obito seemed to be lost in his thoughts. Retrograding to his former self. Hunching into his chest, nodding subtly to something you couldn’t hear, tracing the edge of the beer can with his thumb. You weren’t sure he was listening, but after taking a few sips he spoke again. “Can we watch another movie together?”

Time was of no consequence when it came to comforting him. “Of course.”

~~~

Romantic comedy. That was the genre name even when it leaned heavily into the romance and the jokes didn’t land. Obito was under the impression these were your favorites, considering you knew all the cheesy lines by heart, but when your temple came into contact with his shoulder, he was surprised to find you asleep. Though, at the same time, he was more than happy to practice the butterfly-inducing venture of putting his arm around you without the pressure of judgment. He could always remove it before you stirred, anyway.

He was learning. At his own pace. This was the second movie where they showed this sort of gesture happening. It had to be romantic, his heart told him so, skyrocketing when he cupped your chin to help raise your head. A delicate moment, entrusting himself to maintain composure with your face tipped back and your available lips a fraction away from his. This was romantic, his fumbling told him so. The charismatic men in the movies made it look so effortless. So easy. Obito meant to lift you gently, but in his tipsy blundering, he shoved you, and upon teetering on falling in the wrong direction, he threw his arm around your shoulders in effort to reel you back to him.

A sea of metal cans glinted around the projector; it was no wonder you couldn’t keep your eyes open, and he couldn’t keep his urges in check.

He was a boy again.

Carefree, whimsy, and proud of his juvenile accomplishments.

Your head rested where he felt it belonged, in the pocket his arm created stretched in a protective hold over you, your cheek on his chest. If you were to smile, your lips would graze the scars of who he was. Obito Uchiha. No better than the horrors in the movies you proclaimed scared you, yet, here you were, gifting him the luxury of pretending he deserved a happy ending.

He was a boy again. Lonely in this world that didn’t want him. Pathetic in his ways of stealing affection. Grieving what he did not know.

But as you snaked your arm around his belly and gathered his sweatshirt into your fingers, you released a dreamy sigh despite being in close quarters with an unredeemable monster. He was a boy, a teenager, a young man, an adult exploring a brief glimpse into a better life. One he could not bear giving up on.

The handsome man in the romcom held his lady tight. Hands formed to her waist and foreheads together, swaying to music. Dancing in a lavish living room teeming with velvets and tapestries, alerting Obito to another hurdle between him and the suave man he wished he was. He didn’t know how to dance, much less swoon you over his scratchy hand-me-down couch or his creaky wooden floors. Not to mention, if you were to fawn over him like the lady was, you would be wise to his scarred body for the first time.

He broke out in a cold sweat. You tucked your legs under you and bound his shirt tighter, warning him of your rousing. Dread sloshed in the pit of his stomach. Not only did you have impeccable timing waking up during the explicit sex scene, he hadn’t come up with an explanation for why his arm was around you.

Thankfully, mercy was granted. Instead of accusing him of being a creep towards his assigned civil servant, you nuzzled harder at his solid chest and continued to sleep. This could not have been a finer outcome. In his bout of drunken unholiness, he polished the beer he was holding and set it on the side table, freeing his hand for better purposes. He slid his palm along your fist, cradling it. Slotting his pinky around yours and crooking it slightly. Almost holding your hand again. Smirking at the actor’s orgasm face plastered across his den. He may be enjoying himself, but Obito was elated beyond a quick release. He was the hero in his own movie.

“I just–! Felt the spark with you the first time we met,” the woman in the movie raved. Another running theme Obito noticed.

The spark. At first Obito questioned what they were talking about, what it felt like, and the importance of this innate sixth sense. Did it hurt? Was it obvious? Did he feel it the first time you met? Or the second?

Did one know when they felt the spark if they’ve grown accustomed to living with it day after day, slowly, deeply, like it was the next natural step in the relationship?

~~~

The old cabin stretched its bones and groaned; its two inhabitants inside mimicked its fuss and noises of working through drowsy disorientation. The room had been bathed in black for several loud ticks of the clock in the kitchen. After the credits ran their course, the projector defaulted to stand-by mode, flashing nothing but a logo in the center.

“Obito,” you shook the dozing man who was putting a crick in your neck. “‘Bito,” you huffed, rubbing his stomach until he cut his snore short.

He sucked in the drool threatening to pour over his bottom lip and lifted his head, confused as to what was going on. “Did I–?”

“You fell asleep on me.” Selling your complaint, you rolled your neck back and forth, groaning about the pain of his head slumping on top of yours when he nodded off. You put your best acting skills into raising your arms above your head and yawning.

Taking it as his out, he removed his arm from around you, leaving behind a trace of his warmth like a ghost of the hug you wanted it to be. He didn’t try to justify why it was there, he just acted like it never happened. “It’s really late, isn’t it?”

“Super late.”

“Will you be okay walking home alone?”

“I know how to protect myself.” You made chopping motions with your hands, somehow kicking the coffee table in the process. Both of you cringed at the clanging ruckus of cans falling over to the floor.

“You sure do.” He stood. “I’ll take you through the woods.”

“As an escort? I’m so charmed, Mr. Uchiha.”

He scoffed and hurried you out the door to the chilly night. Try as he might to regress into the grump he was, you knew better. You knew the weight of those arms lifting branches out of your way. You knew the tempo of his gait as he paved your path. You knew the flutter of his heart as he stole another glance at you. You knew the complexities of his fingers pointing out a spider web to avoid. Their strengths and weaknesses. How he revealed his fears in his brutal grip when he became vulnerable to his memories, and his kindness when locking pinkies in the midst of a tender love confession happening in the fake world of the movie reflecting in his eyes.

His treasured touch reserved only for you. And only when you pretended to be asleep.

At the forest’s edge a grassy cliff and train tracks divided your and Obito’s lives from one another. Tree roots wove under the earth where you waited alongside him, blowing out puffs of air fogging the dome of twinkling lights radiating from Konoha like a premature dawn. During your last not-date he said he’d never gone this far. Not a single step into the trimmed cliffside maintained by the odd landscaper who regretted their job toeing the line of what lies beyond the whispering boughs.

“Do you want to walk me to the top of the stairs?”

Obito’s posture stiffened. His Adam's apple bobbed with a visible gulp. Plunging and leaping from the stored breath he refused to release. One foot outside his reclusion, that’s what you asked for. One step towards the train tracks. Nothing to you, everything to him; and as you dragged your knuckles down his forearm, he was taking more than one step. Borrowing your courage to complete something people took for granted.

Frozen manicured blades of grass crunched. Lumber train tracks thudded under the treads of his sneakers. Icy metal burned his hands wrenched around the handrail at the landing atop his mountain. The city he helped raze to the ground now stood tall, grand. Crowded with buildings full of families resting in the morning hour.

“Wow,” he whispered.

“You did it, Obi,” you congratulated him, matching his quiet amazement. Screaming internally at yourself for nearly ruining his moment with a hug.

“It’s so different from when I was little,” he said. “Where do you live?”

You pointed to the eastern sector. “Over there. Tiny building, can’t see it from here. One bedroom, one bath. Way too much rent.”

His face changed, losing his youthful awe for discovering what existed outside his secluded exile. “Is Dai waiting for you?”

“He’s probably asleep.”

“Mm,” he answered. A reserved response alluding to his white-knuckled grasp relinquishing the hand rail. Squaring his shoulders and addressing you with restraint present in his nuances. Clenching his fist, flexing his jaw, working through the morals which kept him from acting upon what was obvious.

You gazed up at him with hopeful, wanton desire in your eyes. This is where he should lean in and kiss you. It happened in both movies he watched. The man walked the woman home and kissed her goodnight. You weren’t exactly home, but there was no way he’d miss the hint. Your expectation was evident.

He did not take the hint.

“We forgot to pack up your projector and movies,” he said.

“Oh, it’s okay. I can get them some other time. Feel free to watch whatever you want.” You rocked onto your toes, throwing in a giggle at your forgetfulness. Adorable as you could be for him. Swishing your hips like the pretty girls in the movies. Still.. he nagged you about your well-being instead of taking the damn hint.

“I didn’t know how long your walk home was. Will you be safe?”

Again, you shrugged at the cityscape. “I’ll be careful. Do you normally worry this much about me–?”

“Yes.” It came sharp and without complexities. “Yes.”

“Don’t.” You smothered your months-long yearning and clapped your hand over his bicep in a friendly manner. As friendly as one could get when imagining their best friend’s lips on theirs. “But you can watch me go if you want.”

“I will,” he stated, “to make sure you’re safe. I’ll stay here until you’re home.”

“What a gentleman.”

You waited. And waited. He did nothing, so you left. Stair by stair, reminiscing on your night. Walking to your apartment unaccompanied. Ignoring the spike in awareness nagging you to fix your eyes on the top of the southern staircase at the person who haunted you most. Closing your door and locking it to symbolize pushing Obito out of your mind. Though, it never worked.

“Daidai!” Dai scurried from the bedroom and performed figure eights around your ankles, tangling your legs as you shuffled to the bathroom to run a makeup wipe over your face before crashing in your bed.

“Sorry I’m home so late,” you said in breathless earnest, grunting at his little paws stabbing your ribs, climbing on top of you to lay on your chest. “I cracked the code, I think.” You cupped his cheeks and doled out circles of pets along his scent glands. Your lungs vibrated with the intensity of his purrs. “Obito doesn’t like me after all.”

Dai gave a cranky meow.

“Or maybe he does! I don’t know. Maybe he does, maybe he doesn’t. He’s just so–so–ugh!”

Dai gave a more positive meow and headbutted your nose.

“I know you missed me, Buddy, I’m sorry,” you said, halting your habitual rant. Once Dai acclimated to being an indoor cat, he became extremely affectionate and attached at your side. Ripping your heart to shreds when you had to leave him for such long periods of time. “It’s funny, if you were Obito’s cat, I’d see you all the time.” Between your normal route, your extended route from your coworker on maternity leave, and keeping up with who you owed what favors to, you were hardly home. Your free time was spent at Obito’s. “If you were Obito’s..”

Obito was lonely. You were too, but less so. Daidai needed a true caretaker. Someone who could dedicate their time to showering him with the love he truly deserved.

“If you were Obito’s cat..”

~~~

“Thanks for helping me out.”

Kakashi shifted the bag of litter higher on his shoulder and climbed the stairs ahead of you, smiling. His mask obscured the pleasantry, but his warm eyes told the story. “I was more than happy to assist you,” he said. “In actuality, I’ve been searching for a purpose to disappear from my desk all afternoon.”

“It’s a wonder you have your job with how often I pass by the creek and see you taking a nap under a tree.”

“Ha, you’ve caught me, huh?” He tilted his head. “Being Hokage isn’t a particularly difficult job, but I enjoy my time away when I can. Though, Shikamaru usually finds me before I fall asleep.”

You narrowed your eyes. “What did you tell him you were doing to be away this long?”

The sudden lack of eye contact was apparent.

“Oh, you know.. Aiding a damsel in distress, or something.”

“Am I the damsel, or is Obito?”

“Either!” he surmised after a pause. “I haven’t been able to escape my invaluable duties of signing papers approving of a third ramen shop on the main street long enough to visit Obito in a while. I’m looking forward to seeing him.”

“When was,” –Dai meowed from his carrier– “I know, Buddy, just a little longer,” you babied him, then spoke to Kakashi, “When was the last time you saw Obito?”

Kakashi turned at the last landing at the top of the staircase, allowing you a brief glimpse at the switch in his demeanor. Losing the sagely crinkles of joy at the outer corners of his eyes, a glint of time flying by in his dull stare. “Months? No. Nearly a year.”

“Oh.”

“Tell me,” he continued, starting on the footpath, “has he said anything concerning in front of you?”

There was no need to clarify. “He.. has. But I think his mental health has improved since the last time you visited. It’s too bad you’re coming here so late into the season, we’ve already covered the roses for the winter. He takes such good care of them. And yeah, he still struggles with finding a purpose, but I think me coming around so often gives him something to do.” You sighed fondly at the memories. Until your brain caught up with your mouth. “Not like that! Uh, anyway. He doesn’t sleep in anymore. He takes care of his house, and himself, without me asking. He cooks meals for us. I have lunch or dinner with him most days. Or both. I really shouldn’t because it affects my sleep schedule, and interferes with taking care of my own apartment–oh yeah, and it cuts into my routes, but I just can’t help it. I like hanging out with him. Obito has grown so much, I think he’s responsible enough to take care of Daidai. They need each other. And in a weird way, they’re a lot alike. They’ll be a good fit.” You almost bumped into Kakashi, who stopped mid stride. “Lord Sixth?”

In truth, he had been giving you a strange look for the entire last leg of your journey to Obito’s front yard. “Did you say you have lunch and dinner with him?”

“Yeah, totally! He’s really good at cooking and likes teaching me. We pick vegetables from his garden and he shows me how to slice them up. I have so many cookbooks from when I was taking care of him over the summer, it’s nice to choose recipes together. We talk–well, I talk–while we eat. We’ve learned a lot about each other, and yeah.” You hiked up your shoulders and moved past Kakashi before he could analyze your toothy grin. “He’s nice to be around once you get to know him. Even if he does grimace when I mix wet and dry ingredients together in the same bowl.”

“I was aware you came here often over the summer, but you still take those stairs every day during or after your mail route?”

“Yes, sir. So if you’d like to build me an elevator, I’d appreciate it.”

“Duly noted.. Er, are we not going through the front?” Kakashi asked as you veered off course to the side of the cabin, stepping over beds of reedy plants laying dormant until next spring.

“It’s usually locked. I always go through the back.” Resituating the bag of dry cat food on your hip, you opened the door without knocking and placed what you could on the kitchen counter. He lifted his eyebrows at this piece of information.

“No knocking?”

“He doesn’t mind. Obito!” You shouted his name, but no answer came. “Maybe he took a nap. Obito, wake up!” You called louder, entering the den with Kakashi standing beside you, peering into the hallway. “You have two special guests who have come to see you! Kakashi and Dai are waiting.”

The bathroom door ripped open.

Obito loomed taller than he had any right to be. Glistening from his shower. Tanned skin billowing with steam from the heat of his glare. Slick white hair stuck to his forehead. Harsh scars running rivers over his abs with lustrous droplets winding their way to the too-small towel slung loosely about the muscular contours above his hips, stunning his audience with a peek at the thick black hair trailing his stomach to the arousing flash of his upper thigh. He was posed forward like a threat, jaw set to intimidate, hands wrenched into fists. Ready and willing to fight for what was his.

His chest heaved with rage. Obito looked from you, to Kakashi, to the luggage in your hand. He blinked. He looked from your gaped mouth, to his friend’s coy expression, to the oddly shaped luggage in your hand, and the yellow eyes beyond its mesh paneling.

Kakashi spoke first, “I didn’t realize you two were this close.”

You slapped your hand over your eyes and spun around. “Put some damn clothes on!”

Obito yelped and shut the door.

You apologized to Kakashi. He just laughed it off, which was somehow worse than his teasing and did not help ease the tension when Obito reemerged wearing a pair of light wash jeans, a black shirt, and red flannel. Exceedingly handsome. Approaching you with a lightness in his steps, a friendliness to his aura. Confident. Like a great weight had been lifted from his chest.

“Sorry, I, uhm, thought there was an intruder and I–” Obito tsked at Kakashi’s egregious chuckling. “I really did. But.. Dai?”

The airy gentleness in his tone when focusing on you was one you’d never forget. Gone was the hoarse, scratchy voice he normally asserted when grousing at Kakashi. When looking at you, he softened. You were infatuated with both versions, naturally, but it was flattering being the special one he let his guard down for.

You knelt, and he did too, crouching to his knees in front of the carrier you placed on the floor. “Do you want to meet him?” Obito nodded. His face was blank from emotion. You dragged the zipper framing the door and his splendid lips parted with a gasp.

Out sauntered an orange tabby with one eye and three legs.

“This is Daidai, the stray cat I rescued a few months back.”

“Dai,” he whispered the name for the first time without anger. “This is Dai.”

Keen, Dai sniffed his surroundings, bobbing his head and twitching his tail, getting a feel of this new place with only one step out of the comfort of his carrier, pupils growing to big black lakes taking in the crowd of humans. Cautious, he swiveled his ears, listening to you instruct Obito on how to coax a grumpy cat like him, but your directions were cut short. Daidai plowed into his awaiting fingers. Rubbing his cheeks back and forth, driving them into the wood floor and trapping his knuckles, forcing Obito to pet him until he was satisfied.

“Ow,” he said.

“Yeah, he’s a cuddle bug when he wants to be.”

Obito made the mistake of sitting with his legs crossed. Also known as the perfect position to display an available lap for a cat to curl into.

Dai’s wobbly balance was endearing, earnings ‘aww’s from around the room. He plodded in a few circles on Obito’s calves to knead him into the ideal bed and laid down in a purring heap. Flumping like the chubby king he was, nuzzling into the warmth. Though, Obito was less than excited for the orange cat hair clinging to his clothes, muttering, “His claws hurt.”

You unhooked them from his pants leg. “It’s called making biscuits. It’s a sign he’s happy.” He snorted at that.

Petting the base of Daidai’s tail, the backs of your fingers brushed Obito’s stomach through his shirt, drawing his gaze away from the cat, to you, who was leaning into his arm.

“I’m not home a lot,” you spoke as gingerly as your touch. “Dai deserves more attention than I can give him. He’s older. A little grumpy, but a sweetheart, too. Once he trusts you he wants to be at your side all the time, and.. he already trusts you. He eats wet food for breakfast and dinner, and likes a bowl of dry food to be out for him to graze at whenever he wants. His litter box needs to be cleaned once a day. I brought all his favorite toys and scratching posts.” It was your greatest act of restraint to refrain from kissing his scarred cheek smelling of aftershave. “Can you take care of him for me?”

He uttered his answer as if the wind were knocked from him. “Yes.”

You may have responded with gratitude. Maybe you nodded, thanked him, and pinched your arm to see if you were dreaming; you don’t know, the pleasantness of his face was a reverie in itself.

However, in reality, Kakashi observed you two lock gazes and stare into each other’s eyes like two ripe lovebirds on their first date for an agonizing amount of time without committing to something more entertaining. It was as wholesome as it was awkward.

“So,” Kakashi cleared his throat.

“Right!” You flinched, remembering there was a third person in the room. “I’ll go find a spot in the bathroom and set up the litter box.” Collecting the aforementioned items from Kakashi, you scurried out of the den, dropping the bag of litter in the hallway not once, but twice, before he could convince you to come back.

“Well.. Okay.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s good to see you, Obito.”

Meekly, he responded in kind, “It’s good to see you, too.”

Kakashi folded his legs under him and sat next to Obito, holding out his hand out for Dai to smell. His Highness turned his nose up at the musty canine scent, then accepted a few scratches between the ears, anyway. “How have you been?”

How could one summarize how one has been in an entire calendar year to a friend who felt like a stranger?

“Good, I guess.” Obito straightened up and rolled his shoulders. “You?”

“Busy.” It wasn’t an excuse, but it sounded like one.

“Figured as much.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Obito said. “You’re Konoha’s Hokage and I live out here in the woods. You’re busy. It happens.” No malice was meant, yet the sting hurt all the same.

Kakashi withdrew his hand to his lap and sighed into his chest. Lackadaisical, lazy, unbothered. That’s what he appeared to be when he put up his shield. And he may be those things, but they did not account for the overwhelming amount of guilt slowing him down, causing him to sleep at his desk, to lose time reminiscing on where he went wrong, missing what he once held dear.

Shaking his head, a grayed silver hair bounced against his forehead as he jerked his chin in the direction of the bathroom. “You two seem to get along well.”

Obito sneaked a glance at him from under his lashes. “Yeah, she’s nice.” He used his mangled hand of healed scars and Hashirama’s cells to trace the edge where Dai’s own right arm was amputated. “I’ve told her some of my past, but she doesn’t know why I look like this. She never asked. She’s kind like that.”

Doing his due diligence to steer the conversation away from the areas of Obito’s life which ended in disaster, Kakashi surveyed the abundance of art covering the walls. “You’ve certainly decorated the place since I last came by.”

It’s funny, Obito had grown used to the grandma style decor after a while. He’d hardly noticed it anymore. In fact, he couldn’t remember when you dressed up the dining table in the ugliest floral needlepoint tablecloth he’d ever seen. There’s no way he would’ve approved of it, even if he did think the colors were complementary, and the handiwork was truly masterful, and there was a particular rose he ran his pinky over when you both reached for the butterknife and grabbed hands on accident. “It’s all her stuff,” he mumbled. “She kept bringing it over the summer when I was sick. Felt like I had no choice but to keep them since she was doing so much for me.”

“It makes your place look lived in. Like a home.”

“Yeah,” he breathed. “It does.”

From the unlit hallway, you made yourself known, attracting the interests of both men by saying, “Litter box is ready to go. Kakashi, did you want to stay for dinner?”

His stomach rumbled. “If that’s alright with you two.”

Obito rolled his eyes. “Of course it is.”

You cheered, “Of course it is!” After a pause you squinted in thought. “What should I make?”

“I have enough leftovers in the fridge from last night’s dinner if you want to heat them up on the stove,” Obito said and turned to Kakashi. “If leftovers are okay.. Or we could make something fresh. Or..” Poor Obito, he’d never had to entertain multiple guests before. He was working himself up into a worry over the smallest things, glancing from you to Kakashi, imploring one of you to make a decision for him.

“I’m just happy to eat anything that’s cooked for me,” Kakashi said.

“Leftovers is it, then! And Obito?” He blinked at you. You clasped your hands in front of you and swayed your hips cutely, pouting your bottom lip. “Can you start a fire for me? I’m cold.”

He was up and throwing logs onto the metal grate before Dai could land on his feet.

~~~

Night fell early. Tips of evening sun fanned above the bottle brush pine trees, bidding the mountain farewell too soon after rising. You were sitting on the floor at the coffee table, your bowl of soup half empty, a spoon on its way to your mouth forgotten about mid-air, besotted by the rekindling friendship between the two men on the couch.

“Did he ever–” Kakashi laughed. “Did he ever tell you about the old granny panties he stole?”

“Shut up!” Obito begged, face in his hands.

“He swears he was hanging up some old lady’s laundry, but when I passed by her house on the way to team sparring–which he was late for, might I add–he was running at me with them on his head, yelling about birds or something.”

Obito revealed his burning red cheeks. “I told you,” he enunciated. “While I was hanging them up there was a big gust of wind and they fell off the clothes line and landed on my face, and yes, I screamed, which startled the mockingbirds into diving-bombing me! You know what? I’m really regretting you being here.”

You patted Obito’s knee twice. Smoothing your hand over the slope of his thigh and leaving it there after the final consoling gesture. “Aw, it’s okay, Obi. I still like you even if you do steal old lady’s under–”

“Hush it.” The playful ferocity in his narrow-eyed glare sealed your coquettish lips. “How about I tell you the story of Kakashi catching a kunai with his left asscheck.”

“Still have the scar too!” Kakashi quipped.

The rest of dinner was shared rotating stories, each of you taking a turn to reflect on the silly things in your lives which used to be tremendous deals at the time, now serving as mindless fun. Obito knew most of yours–a byproduct from how much time you spent together–but he nodded at the appropriate beats and added tidbits to Kakashi about your coworkers to fill in the gaps you left out. To someone else this may seem boring. Not to Obito. He earned the right to know you better than anyone else. Besides, your gracious hand on his leg when he spoke was more than enough motivation to participate.

Winding down the party, Kakashi hooked a finger around the folds of fabric gathered around his neck and slipped his mask over the lower half of his face. You understood the cue and stopped fiddling with the hem of Obito’s jeans and pushed yourself to your feet, rubbing the aches you collected from sitting on the floor for so long. A third chair for the dining table was next on the house’s list of needs.

“I’ll take that,” you said as you stacked Obito’s bowl and spoon on top of yours, rounding the back of the couch to add Kakashi’s to the teetering tower balanced in your palm.

You spun to take them to the kitchen when Obito reached over and caught you by the cardigan. A small latch and tug at your sleeve for an hour, it felt, with how long you waited for his eyebrows to unfurrow and for him to speak in that gossamer voice he manifested only for you. It was so gentle, Kakashi held his breath.

“Don’t wash them by yourself,” Obito said, barely above a whisper. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

One did not require a trained eye to see Obito’s fingers skim the curve of your palm, nor the adoring light you regarded him in when he made sure to include you in stories from their youth, welcoming you into their old friendship like you welcomed them to the home of your heart.

“Take your time,” you requested of him and walked away. Obito watched you leave, engrossed in your movements until you left his sight, and even then, he immersed himself in your shadow cast outside the kitchen doorway.

Icha Icha did not compare. The insurmountable reverence passing over Obito’s face far eclipsed Jaraiya’s poetry. Lewd rhymes ending in titillating adventures held no candle to his friend’s unguarded expression.

“Have you thought more on your future?” Kakashi asked.

It was clear from his reflexive scowl he knew where this was going. “No. I haven’t.”

“Not even with–”

“Don’t.” Obito ended the discussion before it began. He closed off his body language from further investigation and fixated on the fire, daring it, too, to prod into the dark place it did not belong.

The mood flipped to the bleakness of Obito’s outlook on life. The mismatched hands he wrung were not souvenirs of his past, they were his future. Marked for eternity by his mistakes. The rough palms he wiped on his jeans were not from the honor of protecting people, they were the result of manual labor to keep himself fed. The white hair he combed through was not the fruit of growing old, with his scars acting as merry wrinkles from an endless amount of smiles, it was all shit. All a disservice to those he cared about most.

He wanted more. He craved more. By the searing light of hope at the end of the tunnel, he needed more.

Yet, his brain mocked him.

Antsier and antsier, Obito fidgeted, until at last, he broke. He used his thumb and index to pinch the bridge of his nose out of desperation to alleviate his throbbing headache and confessed, “I thought Dai was her boyfriend.”

Kakashi slid his gaze to the napping cat on the coffee table, then back to Obito. “You’ll have to explain that one to me.”

Expelling an exhaustive sigh at his own cowardice, he clarified, “Every time she came over she’d talk about “Dai this” and “Dai that.” Never once did she say he was a cat. When she’d leave me to go home early, she’d say she needed to feed Dai. I thought that meant she was having dinner with her boyfriend and didn’t want me to know.”

“Do you normally think someone would phrase having dinner with the loved one as “having to feed them?””

Obito groaned. “I know how stupid it sounds. You don’t have to rub it in.”

“On the bright side, now you know she’s single, so why not make a move?”

“Because–because.. I can’t.” He ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek. “I just–can’t.” Bowing forward, he curled his shoulders in to make himself as small as possible, picking at the flaky skin around his fingernails, focusing on anything but the impending doom swelling in his chest making it impossible to breathe through the tightness in his throat.

“Why not?” Kakashi asked delicately, keeping his voice below the sound of the running faucet. “It’s obvious she likes you as more than a friend, and you’ve devoted yourself to the very ground she walks on. Why not give it a chance?”

With the exact, nagging question he wanted to avoid being asked, everything crashed.

Obito bit back the pained noise escaping past his gritted teeth. The type of whimper a man made when struck with the fears he swore he’d never confront.

Emotions surged. His shoulders shook in bursts, as did his hands. He sniffed and turned away to swipe his knuckles under his eyes, pretending he could hide it. Once in denial, twice to fight the truth, a third and fourth time when he accepted this punishment was his repentance. He scrubbed the harsh cotton of his sleeve over his cheeks until they were matching scarlet and pleaded with Kakashi to understand the water lining his lashes. To drop this once and for all. “She deserves better.”

“And what does that mean to you?”

He spoke towards the armrest. “She deserves to live in the city. To settle down and start a family. To have a house, and a yard, and children that get to live a normal life. She deserves to find someone who can take her out on dates. Who can show her off and walk her down the aisle in front of her friends. Someone who s-she can love and–f-fuck.”

Who knew a fractured person could wallow so deep in their own misery they could not see the shattered pieces for what they were.

Kakashi closed the distance and laid a warm hand on his friend’s back. “Has she ever actually mentioned these things to you?”

“No.”

“Then have you considered these things you imagined as her dealbreakers never crossed her mind in the first place?”

“No, but..” Kakashi considered cutting him off, but Obito was moving more frantically now. Shrugging and looking around desperately. Slapping his hands on his thighs and lifting them, utterly hopeless. Stressed and at his ends frustrated with Kakashi’s lack of comprehension.

With effort, Obito managed to reign in his voice to a seething timbre, looking him directly in the eyes. “I can’t do anything for her, Kakashi.” His tears spilt to his shirt without care. “I can’t get a job. I can’t provide for her. I can’t leave my fucking house. I can’t visit her in Konoha. I can’t give her anything she wants. Don’t you get it? Don’t you think I want to spend every fucking second of my day paying her back for everything she’s done for me, but can’t? She doesn’t deserve my future. She’s too good a person for that.”

“She doesn’t care about those things.” He didn’t say it as a question to guide Obito to the correct answer; he was direct, intending to get through to him. “Don’t you get it? She doesn’t come here nearly every day, twice a day, with or without delivering you mail because it’s her job. She does it to see you, because she wants to spend every second of her day being your friend because that’s all you’ll let her be, and still, she convinces herself she’ll be okay with that because, at the very least, she gets to watch you grow into the man I knew you would become.”

“Kakashi–” he choked on a sob.

“Give her a chance. Give yourself a chance. You both deserve to know the potential to be happy.”

“I can’t.”

“Try.”

“She’ll say no.”

“She won’t.”

For minutes, they argued in the bathroom whilst Kakashi expressed regret for missing out on Obito’s progress under your care, and Obito washed his face with cold water, pondering the potential of his words.

Obito looked at his lifelong friend in the mirror. Someone who witnessed the worst parts of who he was as a human and forgave him. Someone who had more mercy than necessary. Someone who praised his smallest victories like he wasn’t a fuck up. Someone similar to.. you.

He imbued his voice with the raw sincerity he felt in his heart upon realizing his house was full, full of guests come to see him specifically. “It was good seeing you again, Kakashi.”

~~~

Kakashi’s head, shoulders, and hand poked from around the kitchen door frame. “I’m taking off,” he said. “The food was delicious; don’t let Obito take all the credit, he already admitted you baked the bread.”

Bubbling with laughter, you waved, sending a cascade of water dripping from your yellow dishwashing gloves. “Take care, Kakashi. And please,” you emphasized with a truer smile, “Please come by again. I think it really helped him.”

Nodding, he agreed, “I will,” and left.

The front door opened and closed. You picked up the cutting board Obito used earlier in the day and started scrubbing, passing the rag over the stained orange splotch in the center from a few weeks ago when you chopped more carrots than rabbits could dream of. You washed Obito’s spoon, his bowl; sloshing liquid in a trance, searching for his coffee mug, when you sensed a presence approaching you.

“Come to help me, Obi?” you asked, rinsing off a plate.

He didn’t respond, but you recognized the sound of his feet dragging, and the scent of his soap in your nose as he neared your side.

“I got most of it done already, but you can..”

His sleeve caressed your hair, alerting you in delightful tingles to his arm being draped along the shelf of your shoulders.

In the reflection of the midnight-black window, you watched him wrap his other arm around you. Weak at first, crossing it over your chest to your waist, the other rested behind your neck. He stood stock still. The grand scope of his embrace relaxed. Taking it in. Slowly. Deeply. Feeling you breathe against him. Learning the significance of your frame fitting into his. Indulging in his fantasy.

You were facing forward, he was turned to the side. His glassy-eyed stare was set above your head, boring into the clock above the stove. Keeping calm as the minute hand ticked by. Waiting. Waiting. Resisting the urge until.. until he gave himself permission.

He brought you in for the first hug he’d given since boyhood.

Euphoria bloomed. Giving into the visceral relief of him acting on his desires, of him submitting to you, of losing himself in the pleasure of his hands admiring you wherever he was allowed to. Overlapping his arms to pull you in. Tighter and tighter, digging your shoulder into his sternum.

“Thank you,” Obito murmured above you. You tipped back to study the marvelous way his mouth formed those words, and what a treat it was to be swept into the uncontrolled vulnerability of his actions. “For everything,” he finished as he lifted his chin, using the entirety of his palm to guide your head to the hollow space it created, tucking you against his chest. Entrusting you with the power you had over him.

Locked as one, he swayed you slightly. Rocking you, almost, in the echoey room away from the fire you depended on for warmth. Coping with the fact his stomach shouldn’t be this twisted in knots over hugging a friend. Just a friend. So deep in denial, he convinced himself you were just a friend.

The water on your gloves glided over the rubber to the metal sink you gripped to keep steady. You whispered as if he were an animal about to startle, “Do you want me to hug you back?”

He shook his head, messing up your hair sticking to his damp cheeks. “No,” he said. His fingers danced on your skin, increasing their limp strength upon his brain telling him this was wrong, that he should stop before he became too attached, that this was all he could have and he should be grateful for it. You may have been single, but it was obvious in your stance you did not wish to reciprocate. It was a harsh lesson he should’ve picked up on long ago. Kakashi was wrong about you. An unsurprising revelation, truly, and Obito felt stupid for believing it for the split second he considered you would settle for someone like him.

“No,” he repeated, on the verge of tears evident in his trembling. “I wouldn’t know how to let go if you did.”

“What if I’m okay with that?”

All tension left his body. His chest collapsed like the wind was knocked from him. “What?”

Tugging finger by finger, you removed your dishwashing gloves and placed them on the counter. With your head sitting on his chest at an odd angle, he realized you were looking at your reflections, making eye contact with him through the window. He roamed your expression with urgency, disbelieving the sight of your hands snaring his forearm.

Instead of rejection, he was met with your glorious face, encouraging and hopeful for more.

He could give you more.

He shifted his palm from the base of your neck, up, catching your hair between his fingers. Strumming his thumb along your cheek, he tested the newness of the sensation and craved reassurance, and in return, you closed your eyes and sank into the touch.

You gave him all the validation he needed.

Released to his vices, his yearnings escalated in desperation. His other hand climbed your body to join the one supporting your head; brazenly flowing over your hip, your waist, to the soft flesh of your shoulder, to your neck, grazing his knuckles along your jaw to your chin, tilting it up, and up until you rose to your tiptoes to meet him.

Your lips curled into the radiant smile you wore only for him.

His imposing stature faltered. Relying on you to keep him upright. Depending on you to support him as you reached into the abyss of his suffering and grasped whatever you deemed worth saving.

He cradled you to his throat. Your world went dark in exchange for the heat of his pulse covering your eyes. The bridge of your nose stroked the edge of his jaw, back and forth, nudging the palace beneath his ear and residing there, your new home. You held him. Winding your arms around one of his, confining him to your embrace with strength honed from carrying packages, and groceries, and gardening supplies up a mountain for the one man you sought refuge in day after day.

His arms crushed you beautifully. Your face was enveloped in the entirety of his palms, stretching the expanse of his obsession to touch you from your temple downwards, gliding his thumb along the curve of your lips. His chin rested atop your head, springing goosebumps where he pressed his nose to your scalp, and hummed a sigh along your skin.

Except, his fingers stopped moving. Then he breathed deeper, filling his chest, once, twice.

“Why do you smell like me?”

“I use the same shampoo as you. Conditioner and soap, too.”

A warm tear streaked down your temple.

Obito worshiped you for his epiphany by burying his lips in your wet hair, expressing his rejoice in simple words like delicate kisses to your forehead, “Of course you do.”

He was so close to performing the sign you were looking for. A hug was not a kiss. Dragging his lips across your skin was not a kiss. You could not assume them as so. You had to wait until he made the first move. It was too great a risk losing him if you confessed too soon.

But, none of that mattered at this moment. In his arms. In your arms. Praising you between the brows. Venerating him along the pale column of his neck. Both of you careful to disguise your true motives, to make the actions as small as possible, to have excuses at the ready if one were to ask..

Neither of you asked. Both of you too spineless.

~~~

At the top of the staircase, you descended a step, expecting him to stay on the landing to say his goodbyes, but of course, he was full of surprises tonight.

“Are you sure?” you asked.

Obito scanned the horizon and shrugged. It wasn’t so scary when you were here. “I want to.”

He joined your step, and took the next one of his own accord, eliminating some of your height difference. You sized him up and descended further than him, two steps this time. His ego accepted the challenge, moving past you, daring you to keep up.

And when you couldn’t keep up with his stride, you grasped his sleeve above the wrist and he waited. He waited for you to catch up, for you to shove his shoulder, for you to call him a jerk for being faster than you, and he waited until you were pointing out the buildings you were naming to close his eyes and imagine this was a future he could obtain.

At the halfway point, he stalled, and you stopped with him. He shrank away from the handrail to a nook in the mountainside protected by the stairwell where the city’s illumination did not reach. There was a noticeable lack of streetlights near this side of town. You managed your way home through the dilapidated houses on familiarity alone. The reason why this section of Konoha remained abandoned stood beside you, and he was well aware of his reputation, seeing the stark wilt he caused in person for the first time.

“Right here is fine,” he said, tugging you an irrefutable fraction closer to the alcove.

Your bad habit of swaying back and forth when given the opportunity to earn his attention reemerged. You slipped your fingers under his sleeve cuff and grinned. God, you’d never grow tired of flirting with him. When Obito blushed, it was as if your world was complete. More so, when he learned the importance of reciprocation and rotated to where his thumb and forefinger entwined yours, capturing you for a beat of his heart, and letting go.

You wondered if he also knew the importance of your left ring finger as he squeezed it. The tic of awareness in his eyebrows said he did.

“Remember to feed Dai again when you get back,” you whispered. There was no need to talk louder.

He placed his hands in his pockets, arms tight against his sides, shuffling his feet to expel his nerves. “I will.”

Silence clung to the space between your teeth. You didn’t want to leave yet, but couldn’t form a conversation to keep you there. Obito didn’t mind. He cherished the periods where you distracted yourself. How else would he get away with staring at your lips this long?

You yawned. “Well, it’s past my bedtime, I think. Early shift tomorrow.”

“Will you actually eat breakfast this time?”

“No promises.”

“Thought not.”

You forced what laughter came, and positioned yourself to leave. Granting him a second chance to sweep you off your feet, confess his undying love, and kiss you under the canopy of stars.

Regretfully, he did not stop you. He nodded goodbye and turned away, heading up the stairs to his cabin in the woods.

You curled your fingers inward from a wave he didn’t care to see and dropped your hand to your side, disappointed despite the tender embrace he gave you in his kitchen.

Feeling the weight of his indifference sagging your shoulders, you continued traveling in the opposite direction of him.

“Oh yeah,” he said. You spun around. “I meant to give Kakashi a letter earlier, but forgot.. I guess you’ll have to come by tomorrow.”

“Guess I will,” you drawled coyly, already smiling. “Lunch or dinner?”

“Both. I.. really want to see you again for both.”

No question at the end of his statement. No stuttering in his demand. No second guessing if he should ask for less. He knew what he wanted, and he posed it with the brave lift of his chin, thankful your eyesight could not discern how badly he was sweating at this distance.

“Both, huh?” You pretended to think about it. “I think I can do both.”

“Good. Uh, great, I mean. Bye.” He couldn’t leap up the stairs fast enough.

You giggled. “Bye, Obi.”

~~~

That night, Obito slid his arms through the cool, silken sleeves of his clan’s haori, tying it at his waist and climbing into bed. Draping himself in opulence tantamount to your own touch on his naked skin. He wore the collar cuddled to his face, inhaling the scent of him. And you. Sleeping peacefully for the first time in weeks.

Taglist: @wind-becomes-lightning @hkzv @royaltywidows @uchihashisuii @hatakebabys @smutteedreams @revefantastique @skeletxncrew @nocturnal-onlooker @sharingangirl @theirony-of-choking-on-this-dick @candyopala @reeplaysvideogames @animepickle7 @mrsbakashi @glass-grapes @whatshernameis 

#obito x reader #obito #obito uchiha #naruto #uchiha obito #obito smut #obito uchiha x reader #obito x y/n #obito uchiha x y/n #obito x oc #reader insert #akatsuki #x reader #naruto fanfic #naruto smut #naruto fanfiction #fanfiction

[uchihashisuii]

at the end of all things. | Obito/OFC

Summary: The name of the person most suited to mirror your heart is scarred clear upon your skin. Sometimes, this eases the path to fate. Sometimes, it does not. | Soulmate AU

Pairing: Uchiha Obito/Nara Akari | Uchiha Shisui/Nara Akari (Past)

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 3336

Prompt: Any AU + Identity

Content warning for introspection and a huge character and relationship study. one instance of a non-graphic attempted suicide

Author’s Note: this is just 3k word vomit abt my oc akari for @obito-week

Ao3

-----

The name of the person most suited to mirror your heart is scarred clear upon your skin. Sometimes, this eases the path to fate.

Sometimes, it does not.

-----

A misstep, a novel indulgence of rain-soaked branches and two people crashing into one another high in the trees. Brown eyes meet black eyes and it is both the beginning and the end.

Akari meets Shisui, and things slot easily into place.

-----

They're young, yet not unburdened. Soul marks are a flight of fancy, not something one such as a shinobi needs fret over. A fairy tale, a warning. Shisui teaches her there is more to life than her black-and-white existence as a weapon for ROOT, and Akari knows there cannot possibly be another out there more suited for her hidden heart.

There is danger in their lives, blood and fear and no room for anything other than village. And yet -

And yet.

-----

Akari and Shisui grow together, fumbling hands of nervous teenagers discovering a budding love and affection. There comes the day when both anticipate and yet dread the appearance of their soul marks - what do they do if it isn't each other?

What do they do if it is?

-----

When her name does come, it curves over the jagged scars against the side of her throat. An almost delicate contrast, in thin lines and artful kanji of a name she recognizes, and yet does not.

Horror blooms bright on Akari's tongue as she traces the rounded edge of the first character with the tip of a trembling finger, sitting right above her pulse-point. It almost seems to chase her touch, this familiar-yet-not name, her heart skipping a beat as her lips part, forming the name of the one she is destined to love.

 Uchiha Obito

She covers it with her palm. Her hand does not move until she pulls on a high-collared shirt, and runs with feet as quick as wings to the Uchiha compound.

-----

Mikoto is quick to school her incredulity into the gentle and encouraging smile of a supportive mother. She reads the name on Akari's tender neck, reads it once more, and reads it again. Shares a look with Fugaku; impossible the word that wavers on the tip of her tongue. Death parts everyone, and when it happens the names left behind fade on skin until there is naught but an old and silver scar of a promise once kept.

If she tilts her head and squints, it does indeed look as though the kanji for Obito is fading away, lighter than the rest. Mikoto feels her heart begin to ache at the thought; a little girl bearing the burden of a name most have forgotten, a name of a child's sacrifice lost to history, embedded in the memorial stone and the mournful remembrance of friends.

Akari's whisper is barely a breath, vulnerability palpable as the fifteen-year-old bites down her sadness, her shame. "Take it away."

Ah, Mikoto sighs, and kneels before the young girl, holding her small hands between both of her own. It is not a thing to be taken, not by anyone; not by jutsu or blade or fire. To cut it away will bring it back in another place; to mar it with ink will change its shape for maybe a day.

"I want to choose for myself," Akari murmurs into the silence, steeling her resolve and lifting her chin, challenging fate with hardened eyes and clenched fists. She had chosen, already; heart belonging utterly to Shisui, and unable to accept the fact that whatever force had cursed mortals with knowledge of their soulmate had decreed him unworthy of her heart. Shisui is hers as much as she is his, and nothing will tear them apart.

Mikoto feels her mouth quirk into a small smile, nodding her head as she squeezes Akari's hands, and tells her the truth: that there is always a choice.

She is still smiling, albeit sadly, when she imparts the other facet of truth: that she only knows of one person with that name, and he has been gone from them for too long. Taken from them in an act of selflessness, gone in the name of kindness and friendship and something almost like cruelty. Children deserve to live, not fight wars.

Akari blinks wide brown eyes up at her, small and guarded heart already beginning to tighten. She grieves anew that her name is lost to most - only immortalized in stone and the mournful memories of those who called him a friend.

If nothing else, Uchiha Obito will have her. She is Shisui's as much as he is hers, in differing facets of love and connection. She doesn't need the gentle encouragement from Mikoto to remember that Itachi is hers, too; a different love but love all the same. The black-eyed Uchihas who had welcomed Akari with open arms and minds, who had helped along the path to learning what love could mean.

And now, young and nearly afraid, oddly grieved and chest heavy from a distant sadness - Akari resolves that she will be Obito's, too; and he will be hers. If no one else, she will remember. There is a choice, always; and she has chosen and will continue to choose who it is she loves, who she allows to be branded upon her heart as well as her skin.

-----

Shisui's soul mark never appeared. Not unheard of, but unusual nonetheless. A gift, perhaps; fate decrying that just as there is destiny, so too is there choice. His skin remains scarred and bruised from his tireless work as shinobi, and even without the physical manifestation of love still he wears his heart on his sleeve, openly affectionate and caring and charming and oh, Akari loves him so.

Itachi begins wearing his long hair in a low tail, soft strands falling gracefully down his back. There are a few months where he casually slips a palm to the back of his neck, as though ensuring something is covered.

Akari notices, and does not ask. Itachi offers no explanation. She gives herself no time to agonize over it, doesn't have the strength to face head-on her suspicions that he now bears Shisui's name. He loves them both, as they both love him; and nothing will tear their dynamic to shreds, not even one of them.

-----

She questions fate once more, when her world topples for the second time around her shoulders. The first, that day she met her other half. The second, the day he leaves her permanently.

Shisui is gone, and she is adrift. Love everlasting, even in a memory. Even in a dream.

She doesn't sleep, doesn't mourn. Pushes herself that much harder, in some misguided attempt to flee from her own shattered heart. He's gone, by his own hand, and she will be forced to confront the childish idea she'd clung to that her ill-fated love hadnt been enough to keep his hand in hers.

-----

Soulmates aren't worth this, surely? This ache, ever-present and digging sharp fingers into her too-full chest. A day dawns and she nearly takes a blade to the name that's followed her for just shy of ten years, jaw set and tears misting her vision. Be rid of it, be rid of the shackles and the pain and the startling lack of choice.

She'd loved Shisui, and it hadnt been enough. Because he wasn't hers, wasn't etched into her skin as he had been in her heart. The blade kisses her pulse, a sharp sting of reality that tells her she dances on the edge of something terrible.

She needs to let go. Must accept. Shisui would want her to live, and in the small and half-mad part of her subconscious she thinks Obito would want that, too. Would want suffering to end, would want life to flourish despite hardship.

The knife falls, and she doesn't even have a grave to apologize to for nearly losing herself to hysteric grief.

-----

Akari had wondered, more often than she'd ever admit, if she would have loved him. Uchiha Obito. Fingertips dancing over the name, where it hides beneath a high collar; she wonders if they'd have been friends. The name is faded, but not enough; a mystery that keeps her awake more often that she would care to admit. Death parts, but his name is still dark as ink amidst the tattered tangle of her scarred neck. He's not - alive, but he isn't dead, either. Does she even have the right to - to what? To hope? She hadnt known him. Would never have known him, save for fate and the gods above deciding on a whim that they were destined to entwine.

(A gift, they call the marks. A curse, others. Akari still doesn't know, tells herself she doesn't care. She'd been given the name of a dead child, and had chosen to love a different boy who would still die. It aches, deep in her bones.)

She'd gotten the odd story from Kakashi over the years, of a little boy who yearned to prove himself. Bright orange goggles perched on his nose, perpetually late because he would never say no to anyone needing a helping hand.

Together with Kakashi they mourned of opportunities and friends lost, too many to count. And Akari indulged herself in small and idle fantasies of finding a friend, of bonding with a sweet boy with a resolve to topple mountains; of kindness freely offered and a heart that she really would have liked to call her own.

-----

A half-dozen people have Naruto's name somewhere in their skin, with the jinchuriki's own body dusted from neck to ankle in twice as many. It takes the unending confidence and warmth of a hyper-active teenager to make Akari realize that soulmates are two hearts calling out to one another and finding a kindred spirit. It is romance, and friendship, and brotherhood, and a million differing facets of love. Bonds come in every form, multitudes of colours and shapes. Fate can be embraced, as readily as it can be ignored. She is marked with the name of a dead little boy, and still she had loved and been loved in return by a man who bore no name. She had seen soulmates come together and fall apart, had borne witness to an intrinsic bond that never once turned to anything other than familial. A woman's name belonging to an older woman who embraced her as a child. A man with two names whose hands were never empty of either. One of the Sannin, name long gone from her fair skin, only to have a new one appear nearly two decades later.

Fate is cruel as well as kind, and none can define with often fallible words just what sort of bond awaits you.

Akari sets aside romantic tales of true love and holds tight to those she'd loved and lost. She will carry Shisui, Itachi, and Obito in her heart, and offers silent prayers that they will find one another in the next life.

She has the children she looks after, the orphans who call her okasan when she isn't around to listen. She has her friends, who bolster her heart and help her to stand when she wavers. She has the love she feels for her village, her clan, and her people. They all each take up space in her heart, and Akari feels the tender and warm realization of fulfillment.

-----

And then once more fate decides to make her life a cruel irony. The Fourth War rages and the adrenaline and the fear give way to something far more cruel. Akari fights alongside Sai -her heart, her hope, her son- and stands tall amidst the certainty of her life and where she had decided it would go. There is always a choice. And she'd decided to break the shackles of a past filled with horror, fight free of the torture and the iron grip of Danzo. To remember those she had loved and lost, and find strength in loving again. To choose to fight for a future she has decided she will be a part of.

It still hurts, like hell most days. But still she fights. Remembers who she fights for -herself, her friends, two dead boys that linger in her heart- and stands tall amidst a threat that could take it all away in a blink.

Akari resolves not to let that happen. Tightens her fist around the pommel of Shisui's tanto, and strides toward death.

-----

Obito sees her, the kunoichi at Kakashi’s side, with shoulder-length brown hair that hides half her face as she swings her lithe body, leg thrown out in a side kick. The pale sash tied at her waist billows with the movement, reminiscent of a medic's apron. He's frozen, locked in a vision of a bygone age; his indiscretion allows the woman to come close enough that he can see his own panicked expression, reflected back at him in her dark eyes.

Rin, he thinks to himself, something stark and empty weighing down his chest.

The kunoichi's hair whips across her forehead as she kicks out her leg, teeth bared and dried blood smeared down her cheek. Her grin is feral, and Obito sees the clear sign of protector writ across her expression, her body language. He's too stunned to even utilize kamui, still hopelessly locked in a genjutsu of his own creation as the woman's features blur into those of his first friend, his first love. His arms move out of pure instinct as her body twists, catching her kick with his gunbai; it rattles his arm, and her eyes narrow before shoving away. Her body arcs back, landing in a low stance and pulling free her blade.

-----

Not the most romantic way one meets their soulmate, but Akari thinks it's all rather par for the course in the life of a shinobi. She doesn't have time to digest her own feelings on the matter; they are at war, and Kakashi is still helplessly aggrieved at her six and the fate of the world still hinges on this one night.

She can worry about the name on her neck in a few hours.

-----

Obito's soul mark is in the middle of his back. No matter how hard he shifts and moves he can never reach it, left only grasping at the whispered promise of what if? He can only catch glimpses of it in the mirror, fleeting and blurry and hard to read. A given name, no last name. Strange occurrence, to be sure, but - he doesn't care.

He'd never cared for it. Knew it wasn't - who he might have wanted it to be, once. Before the cave. Before Madara. Before.

It still comes as a shock when the girl he'd seen fight beside Kakashi all but shoves her tanto into the holster at the small of her back, march over to him with something unreadable in her eyes, and forcefully shove his shoulder until he turns.

He bristles, because of course he does. Rudely handled, and showing his back to an enemy. (His mind works faster than his heart, for once; are they enemy? they are not allies, not as of this moment. He's still lurching from the vertigo of a forgotten-and-remembered heart, of deciding to walk tall as Obito and not as no one. He has a name. Someone else bears his name. He's not thinking about it)

His shoulders bunch somewhere near his ears, that old petulance shining through in the pout he knows he wears. Her fingers are cold on his naked back, and Obito fights back the urge to snap at her to fuck off when he realizes she traces his name.

He's distracted by laughter. Hers, he surmises; this odd slip of a girl that pokes and prods and he lets her because what other choice is there? He's wrung out and exhausted and so much had transpired this one single night that he doesn't even have any remaining brain capacity to care that a stranger is pressing her nose against his soul mark.

"At least we match," she says between bubbles of laughter, dancing on the edge of hysteric. And Obito is mystified because - what?

"What?" He says, intelligently, voice more gruff and tone more annoyed that he'd intended. But -point of order- they're still in the middle of a battlefield, threat to entirety of the shinobi world still looming large despite his choice to turncoat and remember who he once was.

Curiosity wills out, and he turns. Meets her eye. Hands wringing together, dirt and bruises across her face. Up close, she looks nothing like Rin - but that stubborn, warm and open fire in her eyes. She's - familiar isnt the right word. He'd never met her, had maybe seen her once or twice during his reconnaissance in Konoha before the outbreak of the war. Just another shinobi, just another nameless blade.

She lifts a hand and he tenses, ready for a fight, as instinctive as breathing. They are allied for only a moment, and he isn't sure if he had been the one to bring the knife down on those she loved.

But she only hooks a finger into the hem of her shirt, yanking down the high collar and exposing her throat to him. Head tilted to the side, flush of red colouring her cheeks, she says not a word.

He sucks in a breath, brows furrowed in incredulity. It isn't difficult to make out, over the dappled skin. For a moment he thinks she mocks him, the scarred skin so reminiscent of his own. But - he sees it. Clear as day. His name, staring him in the face from the tender neck of someone he'd tried to kill.

He's found miss no-last-name. At the end of all things. And then he's laughing with her.

To be intrinsically tied to him? Him? He almost apologizes to her for the inconvenience.

They share the same hysterics, the sheer irony of fate. For a moment, he thinks she looks lovely when she laughs.

-----

The sky bleeds red, and Akari dreams. Or had she been dreaming? At last, at last - fate defies all odds once again. She meets Obito and he's an ass but he's kind, too, in this last hour since he'd decided to fix what he'd wrought. He was witty and strong and he'd helped her stand when she'd nearly buckled from being overwhelmed. A hand reaching out, tentative and very nearly hopeful. When this is - over, can we talk?

Yes. Of course. She had smiled through the daze, and promised him a conversation.

And now she dreams. Of Obito, of Shisui. Of all she'd lost and found and hoped for, all of it bleeding together into one simple weaving of her heart's desire. Happiness, of those around her. And if there's some left over, then, well. Maybe some for her, too.

(In her dream, she is laughing. There are no names, there is only warmth.)

-----

Akari wakes, and the world is quiet. For a moment, panic seizes her chest. They had lost, and everyone is -

A steadying breath, and then another. Her eyes slowly open, and in the far distance she can see the sun begin to crest over the horizon. Much closer, Obito sits at her side, in silent vigil. She's - disoriented. Touched, nervous, excited. Definitely just disoriented.

"Hey," she whispers into the gloom of morning, throat burning and skull pounding from the effort of clinging to consciousness. She'll not let herself miss this moment, this calm between storms. Things are quiet, and he is here, and she's going to allow herself to be happy for that.

"Hey," Obito says back, something tentative in the way he turns towards her. Almost shy, with his hunched shoulders and wringing hands. But still he smiles, very nearly teasing, and offers his hand for her to stand. "Miss no-last-name."

Her neck burns, her name beckons. Akari smiles, and takes his hand.

#obito uchiha #obito x oc #uchiha obito #naruto #naruto oc #akari #obikari #shikari #jules writes

[empressofthesunwriter]

Nothing is True

… Everything is permitted.

What is real?

What is not?

Is she just turning crazy or are other powers at work?

One thing is clear Kohana will get to the bottom of this and maybe change the whole Ninja-World at the same time.

S.I. Third Shinobi World War 

!PLEASE READ AND REVIEW!

I thought long and heard what should be the next chapter.

I was unsure if I could write more original chapters since the secrets I wanted to reveal like where Carina/Sakuya Piece of Eden is come after Kannabi Bridge.

I thought of making a chapter about how Kohana gets her summons, but that would be a big revelation of a few things and it needs to happen after Kanabi Bridge.

So I thought let's just tackle that mission!

So enjoy Kannabi Bridge :D

Chapter 11: The Kannabi Bridge

Four years later...on the border to Kusagakura

"See Rin how simple it is?", said Kohana to her best friend, while the twirling orb of chakra rested on her right hand. "You completed already the three steps for the Rasegan, now it's just a matter of combining them."

The Medical-Nin locked frustrated at her own hand.

"I try Kohana-Chan, really do. Maybe Rasegan is not for me.", she signed.

"Now Rin.", joined Minato-Sensei the two girls. "Anyone gets Rasegan down at their own time, I needed four years to perfect it and Kohana bet me in completing it in two weeks."

This made Kohana blush and rub her neck.

"Only because I had Eagle-Vision to help me and I had you Minato-Sensei to tell me when I did something wrong."

Minato-Sensei tutted at her and gently patted her head.

"You have great talent Kohana, you didn't become Jonin for nothing."

"Thanks, Sensei."

She still felt it was too much praise since she didn't only have Eagle Vision and Minato-Sensei's help but also the visions of how his future son, Naruto would learn Rasegan.

It did feel a bit like cheating.

Even if she was now 13 years old, like her friends and team members, Kohana still had some Vision from the future. It wasn't as often as it was in the beginning, but they were still here.

And now the day she had feared the most had come.

The Kanabi Bridge Mission where Obito would sacrifice himself for their team and Uchiha Madara and Black Zetsu would get him in their grappy hands, which would start a reaction that would leave all her team besides Kakashi and Obito dead and Minato and Kushina's unborn son Naruto on orphan and jailer of the Kyuubi.

Not gonna lie, Kohana was nearly pissing her pants.

Today would show if she could change the future.

Or was doomed to see this all unfold as her ancestor Haruno Sakuya did with the betrayal of her lover Uchiha Madara.

How she had trained for this day, become even a Jonin with Kakashi at the least Jonin-Exams in Konoha.

She hoped with all her heart that all the training and the new techniques she had learned would be enough.

That's when all heard someone fall on the ground hard.

They turned and saw Obito on the ground with Kakashi over him.

"Did I make it?!", asked the Uchiha breathless.

"No Obito you are late.", told him Kakashi with crossed arms. "Where did you think we would meet? As a true Ninja, you must follow the rules."

"Ah, whatever. I was on my way when an old lady asked me for directions. And I have something in my eye."

"Right, that's a lie!"

Rin and Kohana looked at each other and rolled their eyes. There they go again.

Thankful Minato-Sensei intervene.

"That's enough Kakashi. Obito just showed the old lady the way, right?"

"I also carried her bags!", added Obito and put his eye drobs in.

"You are too lenient, Sensei.", deadpanned the Hatake. "Besides it's impossible that Obito always meets people in need of help. Who doesn't follow the rules isn't worth being seen as Ninja. Isn't it so?"

This made Minato-Sensei laugh nervously, while Kohana handed Rin 5000 Ryo.

They both had a bet if Kakashi would today say his standard spiel of ruling obedient ninja. He had gotten into this habit after he and Kohana became Chuunin.

Next time Kohana would bet on it!

"Don't you have an ounce of goodness in your heart?", asked Obito, while he rubbed his eyes, at Kakashi. "You talk always about the rules. The main thing is your own self-control."

Before an argument broke out Rin pipped in: "Now stop it, both of you. We're all on the same team, right Kohana-Chan?"

The Haruno crossed her arms and kicked a hip out, which showed her black shorts from under her long split on both sides pink skirt.

"For me, you are both idiots right now. We have this discussion like any time we meet, it's getting old!"

"Kohana-Chan how could you betray me like that!", whined Obito.

"You're too easy on Obito, Rin-Chan.", said Kakashi to her, before he turned to Kohana. "We wouldn't have this discussion every time if Obito was punctually Kohana-San."

"What I'm saying, Rin-Chan!", waved Kohana at the two boys. "Idiots."

This made both idiots sweatdrop.

"Must this "Idiot" remind you that today is an important day for us, Kohana-San?"

Kakashi and Kohana stared at each other. In the end, the girl signed.

Well, it was true.

A while later they walked through the grasslands of Kusagakure.

Minato-Sensei told them full of pride: "As of today, Kakashi and Kohana are Jonin like me. And in order to increase our efficiency, we'll be splitting into two teams. After all, presently the Leaf Village is at an unprecedented low on military strength."

"Splitting up?", repeats Obito. "Then..."

"Yes, that's right. Kakashi will be captain of the four-man squad with Kohana, Obito and Rin. I will be working alone."

"Remember, we talked about this the other day, Obito...", reminded Rin. "About getting Kakashi-Kun and Kohana-Chan a gift."

Obito made a face but sent a smile to Kohana as she looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"I remember doing something for Kohana-Chan, the other part I must have missed..."

"Sure, Obito-Kun.", chorused Kohana and Rin not believing it one bit.

Now it was time for the gifts, both new Jonin got from Minato-Sensei one of his Flying Thunder God Kunai.

They thanked him and Rin handed Kakashi a personalized special medkit, the boy gave his thanks.

The brunette handed Kohana a beautiful necklace with a mental red rose pendant.

Both missed the look of panic in Obito's face as Kohana gushed over her gift.

"My favourite flower, thank you Rin-Chan it's beautiful, I love you!"

"I love you more and you are welcome."

The best friends hugged each other tight and Rin gave her a kiss on the cheek, which made Kohana giggle and blush.

The cute moment was ruined as Kakashi held out his hand to Obito demanding his gift.

"W-What's with this hand?! I don't have anything to give you!"

"Whatever, but what a good friend are you not having one for your best friend."

Ashamed Obito looked at the sad-looking Kohana (and a murders-looking Rin, oh god he is going to get it, won't he?!) and felt the gift he had for her formally burning in his pocket.

But...after Rin's pretty gift...his seemed so blank.

The Uchiha bowed to Kohana.

"I'm so sorry, Kohana-Chan. I forgot your gift at home. When we will return to Konoha, I will give it to you.", he lied swiftly.

He so would buy her something new and trash his stupid little gift!

"It's okay Obito-Kun, you don't have to bow before me."

"It's probably for the best that we don't get anything from you.", mussed Kakashi. "It would be useless and would only get in the way."

Of course, this made Obito angry.

"I get why Kohana-Chan is a Jonin but how you became one I still can't figure out."

"You should talk."

"I'm Uchiha Obito of the Uchiha Clan! I'll surpass you someday! The minute my Sharingan awakens!"

"Everyone in the Uchiha Can be elite, right? So you shouldn't have to rely on something like that."

"What?!"

"Kohana-San beat me at the Jonin-Exams without her Kekkai Genkai after I blinded her temporarily. Only with her Fuin Jutsus and the Rasegan. You should take an example from her."

Having enough both girls stepped between the boys. Rin held Kakashi on the shoulders, while Kohana did the same with Obito.

"Stop it, you two!", begged Rin.

"Guys we have since a good four years being a team!", reminded Kohana. "Isn't it already time to let go of these stupid childish arguments?! We aren't only teammates but friends!"

Finally, Minato-Sensei intervened and led them to a flat boulder where he could explain their mission with the help of a map.

Talking and discussing it it seemed simple, yet no one knew that it wasn't the case. Mostly Kohana who was starting to get a bit of anxiety.

This was it.

Team Kakashi, must travel through Kusagakure in the midst of a conflict between Iwagakure and Konohagakure to destroy the Kannabi Bridge so as to stop Iwagakure from receiving their supplies, while Minato-Sensei would join the battlefront and kill as many ninjas he can. He would create a diversion for them.

With all discussed, they made their way to the border, before they would split up for their missions.

They walked through a forest with big-ass mushrooms, till Kakashi made them stop. Kohana wasn't far behind and activated her Eagle-Vision.

There!

An Iwa-Nin hid in a tree, she could see the red of the enemy colour clearly.

Kohana made hidden hand-sings to tell her team where the ninja was hiding.

Minato-Sensei signed a good job to her and gave his team instructions on how to proceed.

Everyone nodded and got ready, the Iwa-Nin not the wiser.

After years of using and training them with Kushina-Nee, Kohana made a Shadow Clone in her place and replaced herself at the exact moment with a log.

The Iwa-Nin was so concreted at Kakashi and his new technique, that he didn't realize that Kohana knew where his true self was hiding before he suddenly felt a sharp pain in his neck and how a body landed on him.

Over him was kneeling a green-haired girl with swirling golden eyes behind a pair of glasses.

He coughed up blood as Kohana Hidden Blade sunk deeper into his throat.

With a last pathetic groan, he dies.

Kohana flicked her Hidden Blade back into the arm guard and got into a prayer position.

"Requiescat in Pace.", she mumbled to the corpse and joined up with her team.

No one seemed hurt.

From her visions, Kohana knows that Kakashi should have been wounded on the shoulder.

So she already changed the course of destiny.

Good.

"Good work Kohana-Chan.", praised her Minato-Sensei and gave her a head pat. "You killed the Iwa-Nin before he could do significant damage. Kakashi be thankful for Kohana, your Chidori you shouldn't use that jutsu anymore. From what I could see, your focal point concentrated attack undoubtedly has power and speed, but it makes you move too fast to ascertain the opponent's counterattack. It's still on imperfect jutsu. Before we split, I'll tell you one more thing. For a ninja, the most important thing is teamwork."

***

It was now night and Team Minato made camp under a big tree.

Rin and Kohana slept facing each other, Kakashi with his back to Rin, while Obito talked with Minato-Sensei about Kakashi and his stubbornness with the rules.

No one saw how Kohana was frowning in her sleep.

Where was she?

Kohana looked confused around in the darkness she was in.

What was going on?

A bit unsure she started to walk, standing around wouldn't solve this problem.

Then slowly she saw a little light before her.

She walked up to it, till she saw something really strange.

It was a DNA-Helix.

But not only one, there were three Helixes.

How could this be possible?

"What kind of fucked up dream is this?", mumbled Kohana to herself.

This only could be a dream, so why didn't she wake up?

"The calculation showed this to be one of the many times we would meet.", said an unknown female voice. "I'm glad it's this version. It shows that you changed a signification amount."

Scarred Kohana turned around and her mouth fell to the floor.

Before her was a young woman.

Probably in her late twenties.

She had long green hair.

Blue Eyes.

And was clothed in Miko robes.

What Kohana shocked the most, it was like she looked into a mirror that made her look older!

"The fuck?!", she cursed.

What was going on?

The older doppelganger smiled.

"Are you surprised? Can't you guess who I am?"

Frowning Kohana looked from the three DNA-Helixes to the Miko.

Could it be...?

"You are...Sakuya."

"Here in the Shinobi Nations I was.", told her Sakuya, before she twitched and looked different. Now a woman with short brunette hair and brown eyes was before her. She wore glasses, a simple white hoodie with red accents, some plain dark blue pants and brown boots. On both her arms were Hidden Blades! What was freacking she also looked like an older version of Kohana, if she had brown hair and eyes."But in my birthplace, I was Carina Auditore. Anyway, I'm your ancestor and so much more."

"What do you mean by that, Sakuya eh Carina-San?", asked Kohana totally confused.

Carina stepped towards her and pointed at the DNA-Helix.

"Do you know why we possess a third Helix? It's because long ago the Isu, the true enemy, mated with us humans and we hybrids came to be. That's why you can use Eagle-Vision. The blood of people who consider themselves gods ran in our veins."

"That doesn't really answer my question."

Carina laughed.

"No, it doesn't. Sadly we don't have much time, my Piece of Eden, Hermes Cross, can only do as much. I hope this meeting will help you to find out the truth. I can give you a clue. It's not a coincidence that we look the same. Good luck on your way little me, may you have more success in our mission than I did as Sakuya and oh, if you get together with Obito give him a good kiss for me."

With a laugh, Carina pushed her.

The ground under Kohana broke in and she descended into darkness...

"Kohana-Chan are you okay?", asked her the next morning Rin worried.

They had split up from Minato-Sensei and were following Kakashi to their mission destination.

Currently, they took a lunch break.

"It's okay.", grumbled Kohana, rubbing an eye. "I just had...a nightmare."

"What did you dream?", wanted Obito to know.

Well, she couldn't tell them the truth, now, could she?

What should she say?

Her mouth was faster than her brain.

"Food eat people!"

This earned her WTF-Looks from Obito and Rin and even a raised eyebrow from Kakashi.

Yeah, she had no idea how she came to say this, but something in her told her that it was a reference from Carina's world.

"Damn, that's terrific.", agreed Obito shuddering, staring at his Bento-Box like it was gonna eat him alive.

"It was just a dream, let's finish eating and then go on with the mission.", told Kakashi.

They all agreed with a Yes captain.

After lunch, Kohana knew they were now in the Bamboo Forest where Rin would get kidnapped.

Golden swirled her Eagle Vision in her eyes, looking out for the Iwa-Nins when they would attack.

Their stupid Camouflage Jutsu wouldn't work on her Kekkei Genkai.

She saw them before Kakashi gave them the signal to stop since he smelled them.

Kohana already made two Shadow Clones. One stayed with Rin, while she made a Rasegan and her second Clone added Wind Chakra to it.

"Wind Release: Rasenshuriken!", she shouted and trowed the Jutsu at the incoming Bamboos.

The Rasenshuriken shredder them and flow into the direction of one of the Iwa-Nin turning him into bloody shredds.

The Haruno send a silent thanks to the beborn Naruto. Thanks to the vision of him creating Rasenshuriken she got it down. When he was finally born into this world she would give the cute baby a lot of kisses.

"Rasegan!", she heard her other clone shout.

She saw how it attacked the Iwa-Nin who would have grasped Rin, that Iwa-Nin was no more too.

A loud sign left Kohana.

She had done it.

She had done it!

She had changed the future!

Rin was safe!

Yes!

"Good reflexes, Kohana-San.", praised her Kakashi.

Obito and Rin agreed loudly with him.

"That new Rasegan was awesome! You need me to teach that!", begged Obito.

Feeling light and free since she hadn't in years the Haruno laughed goodhearted. "But first you have to learn normal Rasegan and Kagebushin before I can teach you it."

However, they celebrated too fast.

It was Rin who pointed out screaming: "I don't see the body of the big one!"

That's when Kohana felt how something hit her hard on her head.

As she fainted, the last she saw was Obito running up to her screaming her name.

***

Her head felt like it was split open like a coconut. Kohana groaned from the pain.

This headache was killing her.

"Ah our guest has woken up.", greeted her in the voice of the big Iwa-Nin.

The one she thought her clone had taken care of.

Damn it!

She was so fixed on saving Rin that she didn't think that someone else could become a prisoner!

And it had been her.

Under pain, she activates her Eagle Vision.

Okay besides the big guy, there was only another Iwa-Nin. If she was smart she could handle them.

"Now look at this, Aoki, the bitch who killed Kakko, has a Kekkei Genkai.", growled the big Iwa-Nin, gripping her by the ponytail, making her bite her lips.

She wouldn't give them the satisfaction of screaming.

This Aoki joined him. "I think I heard of it, Taiseki. It's from a new Clan Eagle Vision or something like that. Genjutsu is useless against her."

"So how should we get the information from her?"

"A good old torture session loses any tongue.", reminded Aoki with an evil grin.

Not gonna lie, Kohana was pissing herself, but she wouldn't give up.

She still had one trump card.

Slowly she started to rotate the chakra in her palms to destroy the robes that bonded her.

That's when they heard the sound of a clap.

The girl's heart beat faster. This was surely Obito and she bet Rin was with him.

This also meant Kakashi was turning up soon too.

She could turn this around for good!

"I'll take care of it.", said Taiseki. "In the meantime, lose the tongue of the bitch to get the information from her. But don't destroy her too much Tsuchikage-Sama would surely like having a new Kekkai Genkai for our village."

Aoki laughed and promised he would try.

The moment Taiseki left Aoki received a surprise, sadly not an enjoyable one.

"Rasegan!", shouted Kohana and thrilled her chakra sphere through his whole head.

It was disgusting.

Brain matter landed on her and she was bloody everywhere.

At least this time the enemy ninja was dead.

Slowly Kohana stood up and gripped her head.

All was spinning.

Not a second later she puked.

Did she have a concussion? It felt like it.

And using her chakra to free herself and then making a Rasegan didn't help at all.

"I-I have to move.", she mumbled, carefully walking towards the exit. "I-I need to get out of this Death Trap."

"Kohana-Chan!", shouted Rin's voice.

Blinking Kohana looked up and saw her three teammates.

"Guys..."

Her best friend ran up to her and started to heal her right away.

"It's okay Kohana-Chan you are safe now!", cooed the brunette.

Obito and Kakashi joined them.

The Uchiha had his Sharingan Eyes and was crying.

"I'm so glad you are okay!", he told her, gripping her shoulder.

"Did you kill the other Iwa-Nin?", asked Kakashi wearing a bandage over his left eye. "You did good Kohana-Chan."

"Guys...", Kohana tried again.

Why didn't her mouth work with her right now!?

"Just a little more Kohana-Chan.", reassured Rin. "You have a heavy concussion."

"We need to get out NOW!", finally Kohana shouted.

With her Eagle Vision, she had seen the Fuin Jutsu marking on the cave. It was probably a failsafe if the Iwa-Nin lost to an enemy in their hide-out.

No one would leave this place alive.

The Fuin Jutsu marking became visible and the whole cave started to shake!

"Dammit! Everybody, let's get out of here!", commanded Kakashi.

The green-haired girl couldn't even look that fast as Obito picked her bridal style and ran after Kakashi and Rin towards the exit.

Oh Kami would they make it?

Would destiny change its course?

Aren't I evil?

This is probably the worst cliffhanger I ever made! :D

I am so proud of myself XD

I can't wait for you to throw tomatoes at me and hear your thoughts!

Until next time ;D

!!!!PLEASE READ AND REVIEW!!!

#Naruto FF: Nothing is True #kakashi gaiden #haruno clan #assassin's creed #isu #piece of eden #kakarin #team minato #obitoxoc #self insert #kakashi hatake #rin nohara #obito uchiha #minato namikaze #kushina uzumaki #minakushi #haruno kizashi #haruno mebuki #obito x oc #crack treated seriously

[the8gates]

Chapters: 10/? Fandom: Naruto Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Hatake Kakashi/Reader, Hatake Kakashi/Original Female Character(s), Nohara Rin/Uchiha Obito, Uchiha Obito/Reader, Uchiha Obito/Original Female Character(s)

Hey team! I just posted a new chapter of Come As You Are (Part Two of Burnouts). Go give it a read and let me know what you think! It hurts!

#come as you are #burnouts #burnouts au #atsuko #atsuko kamiyama #kakashi x reader #kakashi x y/n #kakashi x oc #obito x oc #obito x reader #obito x y/n #akatsuki #akatsuki au #naruto au #the8gates #kakashi hatake #obito uchiha #jiraiya #hidan #anko #naruto fanfiction #ao3 #anime #anime fanfiction

[koshimomo]

Who is Kakashi's wife?

Her name is Lily Uchiha.

She is Uchiha Obito's bastard daughter.

His mother and grandfather were the artisans who made ninja masks.

Lily went to live in Konoha when she discovered her parentage.

At first, it was believed that the power of Lily's eye made her lucky. But actually, this power creates a powerful genjutsu that warps reality around her. Changing the odds, making her able to do whatever she wants without taking damage.

She never revealed how she awakened the Sharingan and Mangekyou.

She and Kakashi fell in love and got married, even though they have a huge age gap.

She had triplets. Having two of the children inherit the appearance of the Uchiha and the other having gray hair and needing to wear an eye patch, due to poor eyesight.

Lily suffered an aneurysm years before, due to the excessive use of the Sharingan, where she needed to undergo numerous treatments, as she lost part of the movements on the right side of her body.

Although she has recovered, she still has some sequelae.

She became a Konoha ninja and everyone likes her a lot.

Her best friend is Hanabi Hyuuga.

She and Kakashi live a quiet, reclusive life, away from any problems after he retires.

#naruto #boruto #kakashi #naruto oc #boruto oc #hatake kakashi #kakashi hatake headcanons #artwork #boruto fanart #naruto fanart #naruto uzumaki #obito headcanons #obito uchiha #obito x oc #kakashi x oc

[wind-becomes-lightning]

So I didn't request anything for a while so... I thought maybe some Obito x reader? Or if you really really really really want... Maybe my OC, Nariko x Obito? 👀

I leave the genre for you, whatever you have an inspiration for. Whatever hits you 😘

And happy bday, in advance this time ;)

my dear!! Thank you for sending such a nice request! I enjoyed writing for those two very much and pretty much had an idea from the beginning. I love your little girl and her grumpy bulky man so much, she is so much fun <3 <3 I hope this is alright!

Uchiha Obito x OC

warning: this includes a panic attack.

2308 words.

Post war Obito is living like a hermit in Nariko's apartment, too afraid to go out and face other humans. Nariko likes that as it stops her from worrying. One day, however, she comes home and Obito is not there.

After the war had ended and Obito Uchiha had miraculously survived, Nariko took him in. She didn’t have much, just recently dismissed from her ANBU position as someone who was too close to a declared war criminal, but it was alright for the both of them. Neither of them knew yet how to make this relationship-thing  work and Obito needed a lot of help, too much had happened to him in his past, too many things were also happening to him in the present, with people speaking in hushed tones when he came by or went anywhere.

His prison sentence had been brief, maybe shorter than he would have gotten if the hokage didn’t happen to be his best friend, and right after that he only went out at Nariko's side, when she specifically asked him to, otherwise he stayed inside. There were demons haunting him still, obviously and there was nobody there to cure him of it, least of all Nariko, even though she loved him, that could not heal all his wounds. Kakashi came by too, of course, long talks between the former best friends, but it could only soothe Obito’s soul so much. He stayed inside if he could, the world was shut outside.

When Kakashi was visiting he often joked about how cramped Nariko must feel with Obito by her side every second of every day. “It might be fine for a while as long as you are still head over heels”, he laughed a little, “but soon you’ll possibly be annoyed by him being around.” She laughed with him, quietly, but the reality was very different. Nariko was glad Obito was always around, she wanted to know him safe and sound always within her reach. She loved that she came home with groceries and he was already there.

Because Obito was not the only one battling demons in their relationship, Nariko had a few of her own hot on her heels. Years of ANBU work had left her souls scarred just as much as the other ANBU members she was friends with and Kakashi would have probably understood that if she’d told him, but more so than that Nariko had loved and lost before. And she was terrified of a repeat. Another partner dead in front of her eyes, another ten years of wounds that were without healing. She was sure she couldn’t survive the pain again, not with Obito, not with the way they were around each other.

So she cherished the fact that when she woke up he was right there, by her side, each time. NIghtmares couldn’t scare her because no matter where she went or how long, Obito was there when she came back. I stayed at home, in safety, away from the world that could cause him harm, that could take him away from Nariko and she liked that, as wrong as it was obviously. Kakashi was right, Obito needed to start living again, but he could take his time, at least in Nariko’s eyes.

Weeks passed without Obito ever taking a step outside. His many tries early on at Nariko’s side had left him anxious and nervous, so he stayed back in the dark shaded apartment. He was ashamed and worried about other people in Konoha, he assumed, not without reason, that they’d point and talk about him behind his back. Nariko knew it to be true, she could hear them talk behind her back too. Not that she cared. Old people didn’t matter. 

But gradually Obito improved, laughing more, being awake more, he freely talked about his time in Akatsuki now, even joked about it. When Kakashi came by, the friends were now spending hours together reminiscing with Nariko just sitting with her head leaned against Obito’s legs and listening. He was getting better and she was happy to see him getting better. Still, there was this lingering fear that she could not shake. In time, he’d get so much better than he’d want to go outside. Maybe with her at first again, but then alone. The outside brought the danger back into their relationship and though Nariko kept the anxiety pushed to the back of her mind, it was still there.

One day then, about half a year after Obito’s release from prison, Nariko came home to find the apartment empty. She had told Obito in the morning that she was going to run some errands and be back by dinner time, he’d kissed her and seemed in an especially good mood. After getting a small mission done - someone needed to pay the bills after all- she had rushed back home to him and noticed right away when she opened the doors that he wasn’t there. No shoes in the hallway where they had been for months. No jacket on the hanger. 

She dropped her bag and jumped forward without taking her own shoes off. Her apartment wasn’t big, it wasn’t hard to see that Obito wasn’t there. “Obito”, she called for him and ran a circle around the couch as if he was hiding behind it, which he wasn’t. “Obito!” She felt the panic lick at her neck like a flame and hurried from the kitchen into the small bathroom, he wasn’t there. There was only the bedroom left. She walked over slowly, mumbling his name over and over again as if that would change anything. Deep in her mind she already knew he wasn’t home, she had known since she had entered.

The bedroom was empty. The bedsheets were as messy as they had been in the morning and there was still the tea cup of the tea she had brought Obito in the morning. Before she could think better of it she let herself fall to her knees and looked under the bed, which was ridiculous of course, Obito wasn’t there either. He wasn’t hiding in the closet or behind it or on top of, of course he wasn’t. He was not there. She ran back into the kitchen to check if he had left a note, he had not. The scenery before her eyes started spinning.

Before she could help it the memories flooded in. A dead body, blood, a sharp pain in her chest. She could feel it again, now, in her chest, as if she was there. She grabbed her hand and noticed how it was shaking, her whole body was shaking. Where had Obito gone? Had he left her.. forever? Her legs were too shaky to carry her longer so she staggered back to fall on her couch. Nariko’s heart was beating a loud, fast drum in her ears and she felt hot and too cold at the same time. She knew what it was instantly, she’d seen it too much on other colleagues during her time in ANBU. Panic had grabbed her and was putting her to the brink of passing out.

Shallow breath, shaking hands, sweat on her forehead and the eyes burning and spinning. She grabbed her own heart as it was aching, she gasped for air and then when the moment came in which she was sure she would drown any minute now, that was when the door opened again and Obito walked in, carrying two large shopping bags. When he saw her laying on the couch holding her chest the way she did, his face turned white almost immediately.

He dropped what he was holding and was with her in a matter of seconds. “Nariko”, he touched her cheek and she could feel him, but the panic was still ruling her body so she couldn’t force her eyes to open clear enough. “What is going on?” He seemed helpless, moving to entwine his fingers with hers to press her hand in support. She could not speak or reply to him, her eyes pressed shut again to keep spinning away. Apparently unhappy with just watching, Obito wrapped his free hand around her shoulders and pulled her into him, pressing her shaking body against his sturdy one. Kisses against her cheek and hair. “I’m here.” The expression broke her flood gates.

It was curious really, how much panic could have you in its grasp and how just crying could loosen it up immediately. Nariko cried a waterfall into Obito’s shirt, crawling herself into the fabric as if it was the lifeline to bring her back to reality. He was here, it was reality. He was right here, his arms warm and protective, his voice soft and loving, his face beautiful and alive. He was here, he’d never left, everything was alright. Obito just held her through her sobs, he didn’t even ask again, just pressing her body as close to his as he could.

Finally, her shaking stilled and she could wipe the tears away. With a few deep breaths Nariko felt like herself again. “I’m sorry,” she said weakly to Obito, too embarrassed by her outburst to look into his eyes. “You shouldn’t have needed to see this.”

“On the contrary, I’m really glad I did.” As always when Obito was speaking, all of the words out of his mouth sounded truthful. Even when he’d been a criminal his intentions had been his truth, as misguided as they were. Nariko had always kind of liked that about him, even if she shouldn’t. “I didn’t know you could get panic attacks like that and I think I should know.”

She wanted to argue, tell him that she had it under control, but it was clear that she hadn’t. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Obito watch her and the question he wanted to ask was written all over his face. He took another minute to get himself to finally say it: “What triggered this?” Quickly he added: “If I know the trigger we can try to avoid it next time” as if to excuse his prying into her private issues.

“You” she said, voice still weak. His eyes went wide. “More so..that you weren’t here when I got back.” And then the words just poured out of her, the story she had never found the strength to tell him about. How a love previously had left her broken (she added the words “beyond repair”) and how it had taken her ages to get over it all. How she’d been glad he’d been inside her apartment at all times because it was a space she could control., that was safe and how the reaction came about when she noticed he wasn’t home without leaving a note.

When she was done Obito had his eyes wide open, one hand going through his hair. “Shit” he muttered under his breath. “If I had known…”

“It’s not your fault.” Nariko pressed his hand. 

“It is!” He lifted her hand up to press it against his cheek. “I - I just wanted to go out and buy some things for dinner. I thought I would surprise you, but I haven’t been out in so long that I got lost - Konoha really expanded quickly!- and so it took me way too long. I should have seen this coming, I should have left a note. I’m sorry, I promise it won’t happen again.”

She needed all her best mental strength not to start crying again. He’d wanted to do something good for her, that was all, he hadn’t meant to cause her so much turmoil, of course he hadn’t. If only she’d kept her usual calm and collected mind instead of being taken over by the panic. She bit her lower lip and looked away in embarrassment, but Obito softly tipped her cheek with his pointer finger so they could look at each other again.

“I love you”, he said without blinking, which left her speechless. It wasn’t the first time Obito told her that, but it had not lost any of its magic on Nariko. “From the moment I met you I felt like I’ve known you for years already, that you and I spent a million different lives in a million different worlds by each other’s side and always loved one another. I knew that I needed to be with you, no matter how difficult that could get. You took me in, you loved me when I was nothing but a ghost of myself and for the last months you’ve taken care of me like I wasn’t just a burden..”

Nariko interjected “You weren’t-” but Obito continued.

“I will never leave you. Never, not until we are old and time has run its course. When we are both too tired to get up in the morning and complain about young people. When technology passes us by. Until then I’ll be by your side. Now that I have you I will not let this world allow it to take you away from me, or me from you. I will never leave, I promise you this.”

“I don’t think you can promise such a thing..” There they were again, the tears burning in the side of her eyes.

“I promise.” Obito repeated and the look in his eyes showed her that he was serious about it. She couldn’t help himself, she leaned forward and kissed him, throwing both her hands around his neck to draw him in, closer to where she was, where he was always supposed to be.

His words were hard to believe in her messed up mind, but she wanted to. “I believe you”, she said, eyes shining at Obito. “I want to believe you at least.” He beamed and kissed her nose. Her eyes wandered to the shopping bags and back. “But please, next time you go away without telling me, at least leave a note, for my mental health’s sake.”

Obito leaned forward again to kiss her. “That is included in my promise.”

#fanfiction things #nisi turns 30 #uchiha obito #obito x oc #this is the eighteenth story i finish #it is the 20th of august #we are going towards the end my friiienndss

[lemony-snickers]

19 kissing their injuries / ObiKai for @foolishk <3 eheheh

Kaiya shivered in the sunlight, batting her eyes against it. It felt like an entire lifetime had passed since she'd last tilted her face toward the sky to enjoy the sun's warmth.

The chirping of birds felt loud enough to shatter glass, the wind like it might be strong enough to pull her apart.

At least then she wouldn't have to feel the ragged tug of shackles against her wrists as the two ANBU guards who flanked her led her through the village.

"Where are we going?" she asked again.

No answer. Same as last time.

She didn't mind, really. Being outside was a vast improvement over the quarters she'd been given in the bowels of T&I, with a dirt floor and a flimsy futon directly next to the toilet built into the wall.

Kaiya wondered what she would be doing in her Tsukuyomi dream if she'd been allowed to enjoy Obito's perfect world as she'd always wanted.

She noticed they were reaching the edge of the village and panic rose in Kaiya's throat. Her arms tensed as she turned to each of the ANBU and asked again, "Please, where are you taking me?"

The only answer was silence and one sharp tug from the ANBU on her right, who wore a mask that looked more like a frog than anything, though hardly that.

Kaiya's lower lip trembled and she bit down hard on it to stiffle the wobbly sob that crawled its way out of her chest. She trained her eyes on the ground, watching her sandaled feet as they scraped their way through the dry Konoha dirt.

If this was an execution, surely there would be more people, right?

Despite knowing that, she couldn't bring herself to look where she was going and Kaiya didn't look up again until the ANBU escorting her finally came to a halt. She stumbled a little, but managed to remain upright despite the sharp tug of the shackles when she took one too many steps.

When she glanced ahead, it was to find a small, squat building and the Sixth Hokage standing before the door.

Kakashi looked strange in the flowing white robes of his new position, but Kaiya could not help but smile in return when she saw the way his eyes creased at the corners.

Kakashi had always been so kind. She was certain that without him, without the power he wielded within the village, she would not have survived this long.

"Good morning," he said, walking toward her. "How are you feeling?"

Kaiya shook her wrists in their restraints in answer.

"Yes, well," Kakashi gestured for the ANBU to release her and they did so after only a brief hesitation.

As if Kaiya could overpower them. Especially with Kakashi there. The thought was so ludicrous she almost laughed.

"Come," Kakashi said once she'd rolled her newly-freed wrists, and Kaiya followed him to the door of the building. He paused, hand on the knob, as he whispered, "If it were up to only me, things would be different. But this was a compromise I was able to come to with the Elders."

Kaiya didn't know what waited for her beyond the door, but if Kakashi was here, she could trust it would be better than what she was leaving behind.

"Thank you," she whispered, trying not to cry in the face of his kindness.

With a nod, Kakashi opened the door and gestured for her to step inside. "There will be ANBU guards outside twenty-four-seven," he said, "but I've instructed them not to intrude unless it's a matter of life or death."

Kaiya stared at him, eyes watery, and nodded.

"Welcome home, Kaiya," Kakashi said, offering her another smile as he pulled the door closed. She stared at the wood grain, following the intricate patterns with her eyes. When she reached out to touch it, she could feel the thrum of powerful fuinjutsu, likely seals which had been placed there to keep her inside.

"It's a lovely prison they've given us, isn't it?"

Kaiya turned so fast she tripped, smashing her hip against a table as she caught herself.

But that voice--his voice--she couldn't possibly...

When one strong hand circled her bicep, Kaiya looked up and felt relief break over her like a wave.

Obito Uchiha stared down at her, irritation plain on his face, but eyes swimming with concern. With longing, even.

Kaiya threw herself into his arms, relieved tears finally freeing themselves over the dam of her lashes. She whispered his name over and over as he tried to soothe her sudden outburst. He ran one hand over her long, tangled hair, and pressed a gentle kiss to her temple.

"It's been so long," she said through the bubbling sound of a sob. She couldn't quite articulate the rest. The I thought I'd never see you again, but it was there in her desperate grasp, in the way she shook in his embrace.

Obito led her through the little house, guided her down to the bed so he could hold her more comfortably as she cried. He didn't flinch when her tears soaked his shirt, didn't push her away when she clawed her way closer, like she was trying to fold their bodies together until they were one being.

"It's okay," he said softly, "I'm here."

Kaiya didn't know how long it took for her tears to finally subside, for air to move easily in and out of her lungs again rather than in sharp, too-shallow rasps.

She leaned up so she could look down at Obito, all the grief and fear mingling with relief and love until she was some amalgam of them all--relieved and afraid and desperately happy despite her lingering unease.

She didn't know what to say to him, and Obito didn't open his mouth, either. Instead, he reached up and tucked her long hair behind her ear, then trailed his fingers over her jaw.

"This is where you broke it, isn't it?" he asked.

Kaiya didn't like to think about it--Sayuri's rage burning in her eyes and the sharp, definitive thwack of her bo against Kaiya's cheek.

The seering pain which seemed to radiate from the damaged bone all the way to her core, burrowing in her heart as she ignored Sayuri's pleas. Her condemnation.

Kaiya leaned into Obito's touch. "The medics fixed it. My fingers, too," she added, wriggling her left hand in his face.

Something flashed in Obito's eyes, that soft part of him so few ever saw, and he drew her down, pressing his lips to the underside of her jaw, the exact spot which had bloomed purple and mottled green those first few weeks after the end of the war before Kakashi's pink-haired student had arrived to tend to her injuries.

Kaiya gasped as he sucked the skin between his teeth, then pulled away so he could drag her hand up to his mouth instead, fluttering kisses over her knuckles, her fingerprints. Two of them were still a little crooked, though it was so subtle only Kaiya noticed.

She ached with longing, overwhelmed by the tenderness of his affection.

When Obito finished, Kaiya reached out to tenderly stroke the scars along the right side of his face. And though those wounds were far from fresh, mended long ago, she leaned in and fluttered kisses over them, anyway, to remind him that she loved him, too.

Obito threaded his fingers into her hair, sighing softly at the slightest brush of her mouth. She trailed them down, over his neck to the exposed ridge of his collarbone. Her hands found their way beneath his shirt and she pushed it up, but Obito stopped her.

Kaiya was not always strong-willed. Often, she wished she had more of Sayuri or Obito in her, the ability to stand tall in the face of things, to make her voice heard.

Now, she drew on all that courage she had witnessed in both of them and fixed Obito with a resolute stare.

"I want to see."

Obito hesitated only a moment before he tugged his shirt over his head. His chest, mottled with the white scars of his ordeal at Kannabi now bore new, stark reminders of the War.

Kaiya's eyes shone with fresh tears when she saw the ragged edges of the wound in his abdomen, the white spider webbing of scars over his chest.

If she concentrated only a little, she could imagine what they'd looked like before they'd healed over, before the implanted cells in Obito's body had done their job of keeping him alive.

She didn't think before she moved, leaning down to brush her lips tentatively over each mark, like she could erase the fractured scars and replace them with all the warmth of her adoration. Her deep, unceasing belief in Obito and his dreams. Her tears ran over her cheeks, wetting his skin, and she could taste the saline of them as she continued her way up his torso.

Kaitya silently mouthed the words I love you over his skin, too afraid to say the words aloud, afraid maybe this was all part of a dream, still. That she'd reawaken in her nightmare cell underground, where there was no sunshine and no birdsong and no Obito.

They didn't talk much the rest of the day, content to lie in one another's arms, like if they let go all of this would disappear. Occasionally, Obito would comb his fingers through Kaiya's hair or she would trace idle patterns over his bare chest and arms.

Maybe she really was in the Infinite Tsukuyomi.

Eventually, Kaiya drifted to sleep as the sun began to set, the soundtrack of a song birds and Obito's breathing still loud in her ears.

#obito x oc #obito x oc fanfiction #obito lives au #wind-becomes-lighting #foolishk #oc: kaiya #thank you nisi for giving me the opportunity to write something for our dear sweet kali <3 i hope you both enjoy #lemony scribbles #friday flash fic fest #listen listen i am flying by the seat of my pants here okay i don't know as much about this au as some others so i hope my interpretation- #here is okay! #(as always thank you nisi for your help when i had au qs asd;flj)

[youngblood-182]

welcome to my blog lovie<3

Welcome to my little world that I have centered around Naruto, Jujutsu Kaisen, AOT, Chainsaw Man, Bleach, Tokyo Revengers, and Demon Slayer!

A TINSY BIT ABOUT ME

-my name is Sky, I am 25, my pronouns are she/her!

MY WORKS:

NARUTO

Unbroken Bonds located on wattpad: here or AO3: here (A book about my OC Yuna Senju and her trials throughout the Naruto universe) Not really romance centric, Yuna makes a lot of changes in this universe. Unbroken Bonds is complete 8/30/23

Random Hidan Headcanons

JUJUTSU KAISEN

My Darling, My Princess - Suguru Geto x Reader

my ship event is closed!!

Currently accepting requests!!

I am only accepting SFW requests for the following fandoms: Naruto, Jujutsu Kaisen, Chainsaw Man, Attack on Titan, Bleach, and Demon Slayer.

DO NOT UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES COPY AND PASTE MY WORK AS YOUR OWN.

#naruto writer #jjk writer #demon slayer writer #obito x oc #shisui x oc #pls send me headcannon ideas bc I love them more than anything #very nervous abt posting this aahhaha #chainsaw man #bleach #tokyo revengers

[pinkrelish]

the white wolf of the woods // winter

Pursuing him in darkness, you extended your arm outward and found his bicep, encircling your fingers there and haling him towards light. “We’re having fun tonight,” you told him, walking foot over foot en route to the first set of alleyways. Guiding him into you, your safety, not the sorrow of his faults. “I’ll be with you the entire time.” Step, step. He followed. He chased your cheerful hum. He caught up and offered his elbow for you to clutch onto with both hands, and you laughed like his happiness was a worthwhile endeavor. “I won’t let go, Obito.”

“I won’t let go, Obito.”

He sighed another soft sigh, wondering just how many of those soft sighs he could get away with before you asked him if he were alright, and how he’d have to lie, telling you he was fine hearing those excruciating words and their potential to expire when you learned his were not from the same place of innocence–

“You better not.”

#obito x reader #obito #obito uchiha #naruto #obito smut #uchiha obito #obito uchiha x reader #obito x y/n #obito uchiha x y/n #obito x oc #reader insert #akatsuki #x reader #naruto fanfic #naruto smut #naruto fanfiction #fanfiction #moodboard

[mohitrai76]

Kimetsu No Yaiba (Demon Slayer)🌟

Tanjiro❤️🔥

Hope you like and share🌟😇

#one piece #naruto #son gokū #tanjiro kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #rengoku kyojuro #obito x oc #itachi uchiha #sasuke #son gohan #god of destruction #anime layouts #anime gif #anime edit #anime icons #edit #fan edit

[amikotsu]

Chapters: 116/? Fandom: Naruto Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Hatake Kakashi/Original Female Character(s), Uchiha Obito/Original Female Character(s), Hatake Kakashi/Uchiha Obito/Original Character(s), Hatake Kakashi & Original Female Character(s), Uchiha Obito & Original Female Character(s), Hatake Kakashi/Nohara Rin/Uchiha Obito, Hatake Kakashi & Uchiha Obito, Hatake Kakashi & Nohara Rin, Hatake Kakashi & Nohara Rin & Uchiha Obito Characters: Original Female Character(s), Hatake Kakashi, Uchiha Obito, Uchiha Itachi, Kakuzu (Naruto), Nagato | Pain, Konan (Naruto), Kazahana Dotou, Yamato | Tenzou, Uzuki Yuugao, Gengo (Naruto), Kirisaki, Oyashiro En, Other Character Tags to Be Added Additional Tags: rare pair week, Polyamory, Tumblr Prompt, Rough Sex, Choking, Kinks, Murder, Canon-Typical Violence, Blood and Gore, Patricide, Matricide, Uchiha Massacre, Abandonment, Falling In Love, Idiots in Love, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Stalking, Stockholm Syndrome, Denial of Feelings, Domestic Violence, Arson, one bed trope, Anbu Hatake Kakashi, Hatake Kakashi Has Issues, BAMF Uchiha Obito, Uchiha Obito Needs a Hug, Hatake Kakashi Needs a Hug, Hatake Kakashi Needs Help, Betrayal, Mutual Pining, Lovers To Enemies, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Eventual Happy Ending, Angst and Fluff and Smut, TOBI IS A GOOD BOY, Kakashi Bingo (Naruto), OT3, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Other Ships Not Mentioned in Tags, Human Trafficking Summary:

I wasn't born to be soft and quiet. I was born to make the world shatter and shake at my fingertips.

There was nothing soft or romantic about the way his hand closed around her throat. The high was dizzying, everything she chased when she was with him. He was aggressive, dominating, and selfish with her, things she liked most about him. Behind closed doors, in the shadows of her dark loft, he was different with her. Falling in love was far from her mind. That wasn't part of the agreement.

#naruto stuff #kakashi x oc #obito x oc #polyamory #obito end game #shameless promotion #my first major story with an oc #obioc #uchiha obito #i also take requests sometimes #i don't announce it tho #nobody asks #😭 #check the tags #read the rating

[empressofthesunwriter]

Nothing is True

… Everything is permitted.

What is real?

What is not?

Is she just turning crazy or are other powers at work?

One thing is clear Kohana will get to the bottom of this and maybe change the whole Ninja-World at the same time.

S.I. Third Shinobi World War 

!!!!PLEASE READ AND REVIEW!!!

Since Obito’s Grandma doesn’t have an official name I gave her own. ^^

I hope you like it. :D

Chapter 8: New Discoveries

The next day, before it was time to meet with her team, Kohana walked into the Uchiha District.

Where else could she find information about Uchiha Madara and hopefully his lover, her ancestor, Haruno Sakuya?

Soon she reached Obito's house and knocked on the door.

Her teammate opened it after a few seconds.

“Yes, hello?”, he yawned cutely, still sleepy and in his sleepwear.

Konoha wished to have a camera to immortalize this moment.

Obito was adorable!

But she was here on business.

“Morning Obito-Kun, shouldn’t you get ready to meet up with our team?”, she couldn’t help but tease.

It was like lighting struck him, waking the Uchiha full up.

“Huah! Konoha-Chan?! Aww, don’t tell me you really will pick me up till I get my tardiness under control.”, he whined.

Gosh, he was so cute.

The urge to kiss his cheeks was strong in Konoha.

Why was her crush such a cutie?

So unfair!

“I’m also here for that.”, she told him and hid a giggle as he groaned. “But I need your help with something.”

“Huh? What is it, Konoha-Chan.”

She took a deep breath.

What she was going to ask could get Obito in trouble and that’s the last that she wanted.

Needless she said: “Uchiha Madara. I learned recently that my ancestor Haruno Sakuya was his lover did you know this?”

Obito's eyes widened at the mention of Uchiha Madara and Haruno Sakuya.

So he knows something!

That was surprising.

He quickly composed himself and replied, "Yes, I've heard about it. But it's not something we talk about openly in the district. It’s all hush-hush...Uchiha’s don’t normally date or marry outside the clan. But..."

The boy waved her over. Konoha stepped closer so that he could whisper in her ear.

She ignored the warm shower over her body as his hot breath stroked her skin.

“But...My Grandma told me that Sakuya was a special case. She was a welcomed guest in our clan since she was a Miko devoted to Amaterasu, our patron goddess. So as she and Uchiha Madara courted, the clan was okay with it. Even the Elders and they were always a pain in the ass.”

Huh, that was interesting.

“Sorry, but wasn’t Madara the Clan Head? Couldn’t he marry whoever he wanted?”, wondered Konoha.

The Uchiha shook his head.

“If you want to bring an outsider into the clan you need the permission of the Elders. Whatever just a normal shinobi or the clanhead.”

Double huh.

“Konoha-Chan do you wanna come in? Grandma knows more about this stuff than I do. She met Sakuya when she was a little girl.”

Well, if Obito's grandma personally knew her ancestor, who was she to say no?

Konoha thanked Obito for inviting her in and followed him into the kitchen.

His grandma, Uchiha Keika, was sitting on the kitchen table drinking a cup of tea.

“Obito-Chan who was it on the door?”, asked the elderly lady.

“Gran you remember my friend Konoha?”, said Obito putting a hand on Konoha’s shoulder. “She wants to ask you something.”

The Haruno bowed down.

“I hope I don’t disturb.”

That’s when Keika looked at her and blinked owlish.

“Incredible...you look exactly like her! Aren’t you a Haruno, child?”

“Yes I’m Uchiha-San.”

“Aww, any friend of my Obito can call me grandma, sweetheart.”

Now Konoha awed in her head.

Obito's grandma was as sweet as she remembers

“Alright, grandma, I look like who?”

“I met her when I was a child and she a grown woman, but you have the same face, eyes and hair colour as Sakuya-Sama.”

Konoha couldn't believe it.

She looked like her ancestor, Haruno Sakuya.

That was unbelievable!

And also strange.

Not only was she reliving the life of her ancestor, but she looked also like her.

Something was definitely not normal about that.

"Grandma, I'm so grateful for your time. I've been trying to learn more about my ancestor and her connection to Uchiha Madara for months," Konoha said eagerly.

"Of course, dear. It's always nice to see young people taking an interest in their family history.", Keika smiled kindly to her and then turned to Obito. “Take an example from your friend Obito-Chan.”

“Gran!”, whined the boy.

“Obito-Chan go make some tea for Konoha-Chan, while we talk. Sit down, dear.”

Both kids did as Keika asked them.

So while Obito heated up the tea again, Konoha sat in front of the older Uchiha.

"Can you tell me more about Sakuya's relationship with Uchiha Madara? How did they meet?" Konoha asked, leaning forward.

The old woman took a sip of her tea before answering. "Sakuya-Sama was a Miko devoted to Amaterasu, which is our patron goddess. She often visited our clan to perform purification rituals and offer blessings. That's how she first met Madara."

The old woman giggled.

“Sakuya-Sama was a real beauty. A lot of men and women in our clan crushed on her. When I saw her the first time, I thought she was some nature deity herself. I bet you will grow up to be just as beautiful.”

This made Konoha bashful, looking into the tea cup Obito placed in from of her as the boy joined them on the kitchen table.

“Really Gran?”, wondered Obito. “Some of our clansmen were crushing on Sakuya?”

Keika nodded. "Yes, but ironically it wasn’t Madara who first caught her eye. It was Izuna, Madara younger brother. They were inseparable from the moment they met. They became quite good friends, their relationship resembled the one siblings had. Madara was quite jealous that a woman spending so much time with his beloved brother and also he felt like Izuna was favouring a stranger over him. Actually Sakuya and Madara butted heads on more than one occasion, they were like cat and dog."

Keika took another sip of her tea before continuing. "But eventually Madara saw the error in his ways, after a lot of shouting matches between him and Sakuya and between Izuna and himself. It’s said that Izuna told his brother he would always be his most precious person, but he was allowed to have others too. Madara accepted their friendship, but then Izuna died at the hands of Senju Tobirama. You both truly know the story."

Both kids nodded.

“I know that Sakuya was also friends with Senju Hashirama and Senju Tobirama, I can’t image how it felt to hear your friend killed your other friend.”, mumbled Konoha.

"It was a devastating time for her and Madara. But this was the Warring States Era for you. Friends could become foes in one second, foes could become your friends.”, shared Keika with them. “In their grief for Izuna, they became friends and eventually in time Madara and Sakuya fell in love with each other.”

"Their love was a forbidden one, as Uchihas were not allowed to marry outside the clan. But Madara was the Clan Head and had some leverage, so he went against the Elders' wishes and married Sakuya in secret. They kept their marriage hidden from everyone, even their closest friends and family members."

Konoha's eyes widened in surprise. "They got married? I had no idea."

"Yes, my dear," Keika said with a smile. "Their love was strong enough to overcome any obstacle. But unfortunately, it was short-lived. Madara became consumed by hate and his desire for power. He never could forgive Senju Tobirama for killing his brother, even if it was war back then and it was killed or to be killed, then he didn’t become Hokage and our clan was tired of the fighting. Sakuya had found in her heart the power to forgive Senju Tobirama and worked with Senju Hashirama, Tobirama and Uzumaki Mito to create a peaceful village and better life for all of us. Sakuya couldn't bear to see Madara become someone she didn't recognize anymore. She tried to save him from himself, but you know it was fruitless.”

Keika sighed sadly, "It was a tragic end to their love story. Madara and Sakuya parted ways, with Madara going down a dark path that ultimately led to his downfall. Sakuya continued to work towards peace and prosperity for the village until her death. She married a civilian man, and had a son and a daughter with him. Her son, Haruno Oga is your great-grandfather, right?"

Konoha simply nodded.

Keika took a deep breath and continued, "But you know, Konoha, I always felt that Madara regretted his actions towards the end. He realized too late what he had lost in Sakuya and how much she meant to him. It's a tragedy that their love couldn't survive the turmoil of those times."

The Haruno listened intently to Keika's words, feeling a sense of sadness wash over her. She couldn't help but wonder what it would have been like if Madara had chosen differently.

Would her ancestor still be alive today?

Would their love have survived?

Obito cleared his throat, breaking the sombre mood in the room. "So, Konoha-chan, did you find out everything you wanted to know?"

Konoha nodded slowly, still lost in thought. "Yes, thank you both for sharing your knowledge with me. It means a lot."

"Anytime dear, it was lovely having you over. And Obito-chan," she turned to her grandson with a stern expression, "make sure you're not late for your team meeting again."

Obito groaned playfully as Konoha stood up from the table.

"I'll wait for you outside then, Obito," she said with a small smile.

Quickly Obito finished his tea, got dressed and joined Konoha outside.

As they walked towards their meeting spot, Konoha couldn't help but think about the tragic love story of her ancestor.

It was both beautiful and heartbreaking at the same time.

She wondered if such a forbidden love could exist in today's world, where people were more accepting of different cultures and backgrounds.

It made her think about her own feelings for Obito.

She had always found him cute and charming, but now she realized that there was something deeper there.

Maybe it was the way he talked about his grandmother and his clan with such passion, or the way he had helped her uncover the secrets of her family history.

Whatever it was, Konoha knew that she wanted to explore these feelings further.

However, at the same time, she couldn't shake off the feeling that their love would also be forbidden.

After all, they were from different clans and had different backgrounds.

Would their relationship be accepted by their families and friends?

Would they be able to overcome any obstacles that came their way?

When they approached their team, Obito turned to her with a serious expression. "Konoha-chan, I hope you won't tell anyone about what my grandma told us. It's a sensitive topic in our clan."

Konoha nodded understandingly. "Of course, Obito-kun. Your secret is safe with me."

Then Konoha was reminded again why thinking about being with Obito was useless since not even a second his eyes landed on Rin, he left her side to talk to his crush.

Something like a dying whale sound left her lips.

“I don’t get what you see in this idiot.”

Shocked Konoha turned to a deadpanning Kakashi beside her. She didn’t even hear how he had approached her.

“I-I don’t know what you mean...”

The Hatake just deadpanned harder.

“Of course.”

Konoha felt her cheeks heat up as she tried to compose herself.

She couldn't believe she had just made such a sound in front of Kakashi. But the truth was, she couldn't help it.

Watching Obito fawn over Rin was like a punch to the gut every time.

She sighed and looked away, trying to hide her embarrassment from Kakashi. However, he seemed unfazed by her outburst, almost amused even.

"You know," he said after a moment of silence, "sometimes what we see in others is not always rational or logical."

The Haruno looked back at him, confused. "What do you mean?"

Kakashi shrugged nonchalantly. "Maybe Obito sees something in Rin that we don't. And maybe you see something in Obito that he doesn't see in himself."

She felt her heart skip a beat at his words.

Was Kakashi suggesting...no, it couldn't be possible. She shook her head and tried to push the thought out of her mind.

Yet as they continued to watch Obito and Rin together, Konoha couldn't help but wonder if there was more to their relationship than meets the eye. And maybe, just maybe, there was still hope for her own feelings towards Obito after all.

“Good morning, kids.”, called them Minato-Sensei.

Surprised Konoha blinked at the beautiful red-haired woman on his side.

She seemed familiar...

Suddenly she got one of her visions!

Minato-Sensei and the woman, Kushina were her name, throwing themselves at the claws of the Kyuubi to protect a little blond baby on an altar. In their last moments, Kushina talks to the baby, Naruto, their son, giving him advice to become a good man...

With a little hiss, Konoha messaged her hurting temple.

God this was a heartbreaking vision!

What would happen if she didn’t manage to change the future?

In no way in hell would she let Minato-Sensei and Kushina get killed, leaving little precious Naruto alone in the world?

As the team gathered curious around Minato-Sensei and his guest, Konoha tried to keep her composure and focus at hand.

Sadly her mind kept drifting back to the vision she had just experienced. She couldn't let it become a reality!

“Kids, I want you to meet someone, this is Uzumaki Kushina.”, presented Minato-Sensei the grinning red-haired woman. “She is one of Konoha's best Fuin Jutsu and Kenjutsu Masters, also she is my girlfriend.”

“Nice meeting Minato-Kun cute little Genin.”, cooed Kushina at them. “He told me a lot about you, let’s see..”

The red-haired started to point at them.

“Cute brunette with lilac stripes and already a prodigy in medical Jutsu you must be Rin.”

This made Rin giggle cutely.

“Charming black-haired boy with goggles who is really good with his fire jutsu, you are Obito from the Uchiha Clan.”

The boy rubbed his nose shyly.

“Adorable green-haired girl with cool glasses, a prodigy in assassination techniques and has this cool weapon named Hidden Blade, you must be Konoha.”

Konoha couldn’t help but blush at the praise.

“And the last of you....”, dramatically Kushina stopped before she grinned even brighter. “Kashi-Kun we already know each other.”

Kakashi ignored that Obito seemed to die of laughter, hearing Kushina's nickname for him and just deadpanned at her.

“Hello Kushina-San.”

Minato-Sensei had also an amused smile on his face. “Kushina here wanted to see for herself how good you guys already are. So today you will spar against her.”

Why did Konoha have a bad feeling about this? Kushina smiled at them promising a world of hurt and pain.

“So we four against Kushina-San?”, asked Rin to clarify.

“That’s right, Rin-Chan.”

Kushina got her Katana out, heaving now an evil look on her face.

“You four need to work to together to get me, Dattebane!”

Then she started her attack!

The four Genin were no match for Kushina's skills.

She moved with such speed and grace that they could barely keep up. Also, she threw at them Fuin Jutsu traps like no tomorrow!

Kakashi tried his best to coordinate their attacks since he had already fought Kushina in several meetings, sadly it seemed like they were just getting in each other's way.

Kushina was enjoying herself immensely, laughing as she dodged their attacks effortlessly.

It was clear that she wasn't taking the fight seriously at all.

This was so frustrating.

Suddenly, Konoha had an idea. She signalled to the others to back off and let her take the lead.

They looked at her sceptically, yet she gave them a determined nod.

The Haruno actives her Eagle Vision.

The world turned into the familiar black space, highlighting the persons in a blue Aura.

Since Kushina was their opponent she was tinted in red.

And in gold were the weak points of the Fuin Jutsus Traps!

Perfect.

A little smirk formed on Konoha's face.

She totally ignored Kushina's sword slash and concreted to hit with her Hidden Blade the weak points.

The Fuin Jutsu Trap destroyed themselves with satisfied pops.

“What, Dattebane?!”, shouted Kushina shocked.

Not only she was shocked.

Anyone was.

How did Konoha do this?!

Grappling the change that Kushina was distracted, Konoha made fast handsings.

She thanked her brother Kizashi mentally that he had shown her this Jutsu.

“Earth Style! Headhunter Jutsu!”

Thanks to the Jutsu Kushina was buried to the head into the ground.

The other Genin rushed forward to help Konoha finish the job, however, Kushina just laughed and broke free from the trap with ease.

"Not bad," she said approvingly. "You kids have some potential."

Minato-Sensei clapped his hands together in admiration. "Well done! I'm impressed by your teamwork."

The four Genin beamed at them.

“I’m impressed by you Konoha-Chan. How do you find the weak spots of the Fuin Jutsu Trap and disable them like that...Are you interested in Fuin Jutsu?”, wonder Kushina.

Before Konoha could say something Obito shouted: “What the heck?! Konoha since when do you have golden eyes?!”

Oh shit, she had forgotten to deactivate Eagle Vision.

Now all looked at her interested.

“Konoha.”, said Minato-Sensei calmy. “Do you need to tell me something important...like how a new Kekkai Genkai, especially a Dojutsu, awakened in you?”

Oh shit, what should she do now?!

!!!!PLEASE READ AND REVIEW!!!

#Naruto FF: Nothing is True #kakashi gaiden #haruno clan #assassin's creed #isu #piece of eden #kakarin #team minato #obitoxoc #self insert #kakashi hatake #rin nohara #obito uchiha #minato namikaze #kushina uzumaki #minakushi #haruno kizashi #haruno mebuki #obito x oc #crack treated seriously