Summary: Obi Wan Kenobi left his hometown the day after his high school graduation and never returned, until now. Ten years on, Obi wan comes home to bury his father, but there may be more unfinished business than meets the eye. As Obi Wan struggles to understand his father's violent passing, reconnect with his younger siblings, and see where he fits in with town that thought he had disappeared, he also has to rectify with a traumatic high school incident and the man who made his life a misery.
Chief Cody Fett, a one-time high school bully and football star, now can't seem to stop popping up everywhere and when Obi Wan agrees to help him with his father's case, things take an unexpected turn.
Obi Wan turned the wipers up as he passed the “Welcome to Kamino” sign. He heaved out a sigh and tried to keep his eyes on the road even as they wanted to look at the town he had left almost ten years ago now.
It was no surprise that it was raining. It always rained here. Something the locals had taken to with aplomb, the wettest town in the United States. Obi Wan was thankful to have escaped the cloud, finding solace and a home in Coruscant when he certainly hadn’t been able to find one here.
He pushed the thought out of his mind, his eyes lingering on the high school as he drove past. It looked the same, looming on the top of the hill like an institution, and he supposed, in a way, it was.
He felt the weight of a heavy fist on his nose, tasted the blood in his mouth and felt his anger surge out of him like a wave as he lashed out, shoving the boy back and instantly regretting it. Tensing up as he saw him hit the glass trophy cabinet, watching in horror as his face connected, causing it to shatter. And blood. So much blood.
Obi Wan almost collided with the truck in front as he blinked the memory away. It was a long time ago. He huffed out another sigh and shook his head. That’s not why he was here. That’s not what had brought him back after all these years of self-imposed exile. He turned left down a narrow dirt road and into a subdivision that had been promised paved roads when he was fifteen. At twenty-eight now, he assumed they would never come. He heard the wet mud fly up from his tires and stick to the side of his car. God, he hated this place.
He pulled into the driveway as if he’d just gone to the store getting milk. It looked the same. Perhaps a little more run down. A few panels of siding were sliding off, likely letting water in. Yellow police tape decorated the front lawn. He would have assumed it was left over from Halloween, had his brother not told him the news.
The house was dark. He didn’t know what he had expected. No one was left to leave the light on for him. He grabbed his bag off the passenger seat and pulled his hood up over his hair, running to the front stoop and pressing himself against the door to escape the deluge. He reached for the right key instinctively. It had hung on his keychain like a weight around his neck all these years. It should have meant something to finally use it again. But not like this, never like this.
The door swung open with a creak, and he tossed the bag over the threshold, turning back to the spot on the front lawn. He stared at it. So innocuous. He’d never have known to look at it, just another part of the saturated lawn. He couldn’t see the blood. Somehow, he thought that might help to make it real somehow, to make it true.
Unable to stop himself, he walked out into the rain, his feet squelching in the mud until he stood in front of a homemade vigil. That must have been the neighbors, and maybe Anakin. It was waterlogged now, wet teddy bears and soaked candles left in memory of a man who would have seen it as the height of sentimentality.
Obi Wan bowed his head at the spot where his father had died, sighed once more and trekked back into the darkness of the house.
The place still smelled the same. He flicked on the light switch to his right, casting the entryway in a warm, nostalgic glow. There were still pictures on the wall leading up the stairs to the right and more littering the credenza under the mirror to the left.
He picked up the picture closest to him, him as a young boy, a mop of copper hair, a missing front tooth and a wide grin from his father who held him playfully in his arms, his long hair pulled back, away from his face, his eyes crinkled with laughter and happiness.
Obi Wan put down the picture and pulled off his jacket and boots, leaving them in a puddle on the floor. He pulled out his phone and prodded the most recent call. Anakin picked up on the first right.
“You here?” he asked, the sound of a tv blaring in the background.
“Yes. I just got in.” Obi Wan replied, making his way to the kitchen and flicking on more lights.
“You want to come over? Padme’s making dinner.”
Obi Wan smiled at the phone, “Thanks, but I have to get a few things in. Maybe another night?”
There was silence on the end of the line for a moment. “You’re staying there?”
Obi Wan sighed down the line and sank into one of the well-worn stools at the kitchen island. “Yes, for now.”
“Is it…strange? I haven’t been able to go in yet.” Anakin said softly, as though hoping no one would hear him.
Obi Wan looked around the house. “It’s…fine, I suppose. It feels like stepping back in time. But then, you’ve likely been here more recently than I have.”
Anakin laughed halfheartedly. “Yeah, we were over last week. Dad watched the kids while we had a date night…he was good like that.”
Obi Wan nodded before realizing Anakin couldn’t see him and hummed an affirmative down the line. “He was something all right.” He said evasively.
“Seriously? You can’t say anything nice even when he’s dead?” Anakin spat.
Obi Wan pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head. He didn’t have the strength for this conversation. Not now. Not today. “We had very different experiences of our father, Anakin. I’m very glad for the person you were able to see in him. But I’m afraid I didn’t see the same…”
“He just died, Obi Wan. What’s wrong with you?”
Obi Wan sighed again, “Nothing is wrong with me. I’m doing the job of a dutiful son, am I not?”
“Yeah, maybe. But with an attitude.”
Obi Wan scowled at the phone as he heard a knock at the door. “Look, someone’s at the door. I’ll call you later.”
“Yeah, whatever.” Anakin grumbled as the line went dead.
Obi Wan grabbed a pillow off the nearby couch and screamed into it before gathering himself once more and walking back towards the door. He supposed it shouldn’t have surprised him that someone was keeping tabs on the house. As always with this town, you were under a microscope. Everyone knew everyone and your business was no longer your own.
He yanked open the door and felt his breath catch. He’d been warned that he was the chief of police now, and yet, nothing could have prepared Obi Wan to see the one person in all of Kamino he had absolutely no desire to see.
“Mr. Kenobi.” Cody Fett said with a tip of his hat.
Obi Wan couldn’t help but feel like a seventeen-year-old again, pushed up against a wall. He glared at the Chief of police as if he could set him on fire with the mere thought of it.
“What do you want?” Obi Wan asked. He would never dream of addressing anyone else on the planet like this. His father had always promoted politeness to the point of apologizing when someone bumped into you. He would be appalled by Obi Wan’s behavior. But then, he wasn’t around to care anymore.
Cody Fett sighed and took off his hat, letting it drip at his side. “I wanted to offer the condolences of the Kamino Police Department.”
Obi Wan glared at him. “And?”
He noticed Fett’s eyes flash in annoyance, as though trying to keep it professional but hanging by and thread. “And…” he replied through gritted teeth, “your father’s death is an open investigation. We need to speak to you about your whereabouts and any conversations you may have had with him before Tuesday.”
Obi Wan hung onto the door, not letting Fett gain any footing over the threshold. “Well, that’s easy, I hadn’t spoken to him in ten years.”
“Really?” Fett asked, seemingly unconvinced.
Obi Wan’s eyes flicked to the thick scar that arched over his eyebrow and down to his cheek. “Really. So, if there isn’t anything else…” Obi Wan started to shut the door on him.
Chief Fett jammed his foot in the door and glared at him. “I’m afraid our questioning is more extensive than that. You can invite me in, or I can take you down to the station. Your choice.”
Obi Wan heaved a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose again. “Look, I’ve been driving for five hours and just got in. I have some things to do around here. Can I come to the station tomorrow for whatever questions you may have?”
Fett looked him up and down, his eyes flicking to the bag just inside the doorway. “You’re not planning on leaving town?”
Obi Wan rolled his eyes. “I just got here to bury my father, as soon as you release his body. So, no.”
Fett removed his boot from the door and nodded. “Fine. Nine AM tomorrow. If you don’t show up I’ll have the boys searching for you.”
“Fine.” Obi Wan slammed to door and locked it for good measure. He sank back against the door and cradled his head in his hands. He should have just stayed away, he thought before pressing himself up and going back to the kitchen.
areudirty
izzy806
kaledo-art
2087
prguitarman
vaporwave
jacobvanloon
