An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Obito isn't someone to talk about his feelings. But he's working on things, especially when talking about his nightmares. And it gets easier.
~ X ~
Heya ^^
A second fic for @obito-week, and two prompts fulfilled with this one. Hope you all enjoy this fic as much as I did while writing it! :D
Prompt: Buried and Family
TW: Guilt, Self-Hatred with really dark thoughts
~ X ~
Darkness swallowed everything around him. Teeth gnawed away at his flesh, but he couldn’t swat those teeth away. Every cell of his body was frozen into place, all cold and icy, while his insides burned with the fury of the dead.
Why? Why did you do this to me?
Why aren’t you suffering like I did?
Why are you still alive?
More and more voices echoed around him, hollow and creeping into his mind like invisible poison, burning him from the inside. He tried to breathe, but there were fingers, too, pushing into his mouth the second he tried to open it. Fingers pulled at his lips, hurting him, tearing him apart while choking him in the endless darkness of the void. There was blood and pain, sharp and dull at the same time, and more hands ripping into his flesh.
You killed me.
You killed us.
You deserve to die.
Hands pressed onto his eyes, onto his chest, onto his entire body. He couldn’t move. More and more hands joined the others, until it felt like he was buried under a mass of hands, pressing him down and down… and further down. The void became even darker, until even the black of his surroundings creeped into every crevice of his mind and body. There was nothing but the hands and the darkness for him. That and the voices still whispering to him:
You need to die.
You don’t deserve happiness.
You don’t deserve your life when you have taken mine away from me.
A first deep breath in, and Obito awoke. For a split second, he merely stared into the darkness of the room, just to sit up straight and breathe again. In and out, as the imaginary weight of his nightmare faded ever so slowly back into the hellscape of his own mind. Every fresh wave of air breezing through his lungs made the load of the nightmare a little bit lighter, just a little bit more bearable. But it wasn’t enough, couldn’t be enough.
Bending forward, Obito leaned his head against his bended knees, soles planted onto the mattress. His hand was shaky as he combed through his sweaty hair, the skin ever so slightly feverish and damp.
Fuck. A nightmare, still, after all those years… No matter what he dreamed about, the things his mind conjured were always leaving him in the dust, all disturbed and a complete mess. Again, Obito scrubbed through his hair, so hard he could feel some loose hairs between his fingers when he pulled his hand away. With his eyes closed, you tried to breathe more, maybe even calm down, if that was possible.
But he didn’t expect for another hand to sleepily reach out to his side, melting against his body when the small fingers made contact with his skin.
“... ‘bito?”
He nodded weakly. No way he could talk now, with how breathy and heavy he still was. So, he waited, waited and felt how the smaller hand traced the last bow of his ribs towards his sternum, all gentle yet insistent to reach more skin, before the belonging body had to edge closer and bump into his side.
“Obito?” the voice called out again. And fuck, even in his nightmare-fueled state in between terror and anxiety, Obito couldn’t help but swoon a little bit. He knew every little nuance of that voice by now. After years of knowing them, months of going out, weeks of living together, it was to be expected. Still, this sleep-riddled mumble was kind of new to him, but nevertheless, it made his heart bloom.
“I’m okay.”
“You’re lying.” The hand creeped further over his chest, only to rest over his heart. The palm flattened completely against his chest, checking on him with touch and sound alone. “What’s wrong?”
Obito opened his mouth, but didn’t say anything. He couldn’t. Nothing would come out, his tongue refusing to move in the ways he willed it to, so, he just stayed silent and shook his head.
Silence followed, which was simply heaven after the hateful voices of his dreams. The hand was still pressed flatly against his chest, warming up his skin and his side, where the body connected with his. It helped, so much so, he couldn’t help but reach up and interlace the fingers at his chest with his own. He sighed as the contact strengthened, prolonged and the warmth of their love seeping into his weary bones.
Closing his eyes, he tried to concentrate on the surrounding sounds. He found that this helped, more than any nice words or comforting touches did (though, those were a close second). He listened to his own breathing, still shallow and a bit labored, like he had run the distance between Konohagakure and Sunagakure without a break. He listened to the weak whistle of the heaters around the flat, working away to keep the cold of a Konoha Autumn out of their shared space. And he listened to the person beside him: their breathing, deep and slow, to their heartbeat, just as slow and calm, and to the weak shuffles of a naked body rubbing against the slightly coarse fabric of the blankets.
They knew how he worked through these nightmares. So, they let him, and he was eternally grateful for that. It took ages, or maybe only minutes, until his heart calmed down the tiniest bit and his mind wasn’t racing any longer with scary scenarios, but their presence and the hand in his own, still pressed against his chest, helped so much.
“Thanks,” he mumbled quietly, when his jaw wasn’t so tense anymore he couldn’t speak up. “This was… intense.”
“And I already told you,” the sleepy voice beside him mumbled, “making jokes isn’t the way to go.”
“But that’s how I cope”, he laughed. Turning his head, he could barely make out the silhouette of his partner in the darkness, all entwined with the blanket, pillow and himself. A temptation, born from reality and not from his dark and disturbed mind.
“What happened?”
Obito sighed; a heavy sigh which came from deep within his stomach, rose into his chest and came out as nothing but a sound and a small wave of wind, smelling ever so faintly of toothpaste. “Not… not much,” he said, while his thumb started to tap against the back of their hand, “just… you know, the usual.”
“The usual?”
“Mhm.”
“So… lots of guilt, shadow-y figures trying to bury you alongside them, lots of whispering about how you don’t deserve anything?”
Obito nodded. Talking about his nightmares once sounded so silly and insignificant, so stupid overall. Those were just bad dreams, right? No matter if he refused to sleep afterward and preferred to stare into the endless dark of his bedroom ceiling, or if he cried his eyes out and screamed his throat raw, or if he just drank himself into a stupor to fucking forget, those were just dreams. And every reaction he paid to them made them… bigger and more, and so much worse.
Talking with his partner, though, had helped. Oddly enough. Even about the recurring nightmares of being fucking buried alive under a mountain of souls he reaped before their time, all his guilt and shame out in the open and for them to judge.
But they didn’t judge. Or at least, didn’t judge too harshly. So, like this, he allowed them to pull him into their embrace, down into the cushions and on top of them.
It was so easy to close his eyes and breathe their smell in. Home and safety, an important part of his small family, right here in his arms. Right here, in this very second. Instinctively, his arms closed more around them, dragging them closer even though he couldn’t possibly get even closer to them. He buried them beneath his body, but they didn’t mind. Never minded, never had.
Their hands spread over his back, fingers twitching and discovering the planes of his skin anew. Carefully, they followed the lines of his ribs, fingertips sliding across the scars and rough texture of the artificial surface. A path they often took, whenever they embraced like this.
“Maybe,” they spoke up, their soft whisper muffled in his hair, “we need to amp up the therapy sessions.”
“Mhmm.”
“It could help.”
“Probably.”
“Want to talk about it?”
“No,” Obito sighed as he buried his face in their neck, breathing in the scent and relishing in it, “not now. Tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow, then”, they agreed. But even when the silence fell over them, with the darkness once more becoming a comfortable blanket to wrap himself in, he listened to their quickly slowing breath until the weak snoring he loved so much disturbed the air in the room again.
Yeah, this was still the best way to calm down after such a nightmare. With another low sigh, Obito closed his eyes. Maybe, he might even be able to catch a bit more sleep.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
You wake up from a terribly real dream. A battlefield, drowning in blood and broken bones. At first, you have no idea where you even are. Slowly, with the help of your lover, you make way back into reality.
Or do you?
~ X ~
Hey there!
Just something short and bitter-sweet. It was really fun to try something else for a bit, as you will see in the writing style as well as in the overall genre... I guess this counts as a small Whump?
But there is a small ray of hope at the ending as well? Even though it's kind of sad in my opinion... eeh, you guys will see ;D
Thank you all for reading this fic! Hope you enjoy it! :D
~ X ~
Darkness surrounds all of you. It pushes down your throat — a living, breathing snake, presses onto your eyes and creeps into your skull. There are no sounds or smells or anything to navigate the darkness, and like that, you’re left blind and deaf, drifting through the realm like you were lost at sea. You want to scream for help, but your tongue refuses to move.
But there are pictures in your head; pictures you crave and fear alike. You want to turn around and flee, but like a terrible nightmare, the pictures start to move, and you are unable to escape them.
So much blood. Blood on your hands, blood on your clothes and blood in your eyes. So much blood, and none of it is your own. Not even the blood of the enemies, no. They don’t even bleed.
It’s the blood of your friends and comrades. One by one you try to patch them up to send them back out to fight the bloodless enemies, until your comrades come back with another wound in need of fixing or just in another bag.
Sometimes, they also just die right under your hands. Some die with screams of unimaginable pain tearing from their lips while you try to hold them down and still when pushing a bone into the correct position to allow your chakra to heal the damage. Some die all of a sudden, quietly, dozing off inside the recovery tent only to never wake again. But there are also others, waking up with terror in their eyes and duty in their hearts, when they dress and stumble back out into the world again.
A world of blood and death. Outside your tent and inside, as well.
There’s no time to think and stop for a second, mourning the many fallen soldiers all around you. There’s always another person close to the doors of death. No time to think, just another wound to mend. Just another piece of meat laying right in front of you, all bloody, broken and raw. Just another last breath a few hours later, after you fought for so long only to ultimately fail.
You breathe in, you breathe out. Disinfection and burned meat fills your lungs and even though your insides recoil at the smell, you take another deep breath in. And move to the next patient, who is already waiting for you.
You struggle. Struggle to breathe. Sucking in air like a goldfish out of water, trying to escape from the darkness. The binds holding your arms loosen, your legs kick out, and you scream. Try to, as there’s still no sound coming from your lips. More binds fall away, some completely vanish, and some continue to stick to your body like a second skin, coated in cold sweat.
Some fabric.
Blanket. A blanket.
It’s a blanket.
The confused thought process breaks through the darkness and the overbearing drumming of your heartbeat. You choke, and the tears in your eyes roll down your face as you try again to call out for help. Your mouth forms a single word, just a few syllables, a single name, but no sounds come out, just as the next wave of nightmarish real images wash over your mind.
The ghoulish white trees raised its blank twigs into the sky. You’re so far away you can’t make out details, but at the sight of something so clearly unnatural, a cold shudder wandered down your back. This thing shouldn’t exist. It shouldn’t be here, threatening with its very presence to life and dreams and development. Higher than the next mountain, with a blood-red flower growing on top. The petals were still closed. Thank the gods. You already knew something catastrophic would happen if the flower would come to bloom.
And you also knew who would be close to that flower. You have seen him in the few minutes you were connected to Naruto over the chakra of the Nine-Tails. You saw him and listened to the voice of the powerful beast and Naruto explaining the entire situation. Believed dead yet buried beneath a boulder, and yet. Without asking for permission from your platoon leader, you break formation. Slipping out of the medical tent is easy enough, and leaving the protected area of the Shinobi Alliance just as much. As you run towards the tree, you slip out of the garbs, marking you as a medic nin. Where you would go, those clothes would just paint a gigantic mark on your back.
Finally. A small sound rips itself from your lips. High and whiny, nothing more than a pitiful whimper. But it’s a start. Still clawing at the confusing, confining tangle of linen and sweat-soaked clothes, you try again.
“O-!”
Still too high, still too whiny, still too weak. Your hands subconsciously reach over the vastness of the bed, where he is supposed to be. But there’s nothing. Nothing but emptiness, and the realization he isn’t where he is supposed to be makes you drown in the sea of panic.
You are barely keeping afloat, anyway.
Out on the battlefield, it was even worse. Inside your tent, working away to keep some cannon-fodder alive, there was controlled chaos. Out here, there was not even an inkling of order in any shape or form. People fought bleach-white creatures, undead reanimated people wreak havoc among the living, and some people even attacked anything or anyone, so blinded by the fever of war they no longer can distinguish between friend or foe.
You push all of that aside. Your goal is right ahead of you, cutting through the sky and looming over everything. Dodging and ducking, you weave through the lines of enemies and comrades like water. Almost no one attacked you, and if they do, you redirect their attacks elsewhere. There was no one able to stay in your path, as incredible as that was. You just had to get there, fast enough, quick enough, in time to save-!
“Love?”
His familiar voice breaks through the confused haze. Warm hands touch your shoulders, his skin cold and soothing against your fever-wrecked body. His fingers, gentle and light as a feather, knead your shoulder, digging into the tense muscle and trying to help. He tries to ground you in the here and now.
“Love,” his voice is closer than before, a lifeline you blindly reach out to, “Love… What is going on? Talk to me, please.”
Nothing but the tongue-tied whining and whimpering rolls out of your mouth. Like there’s no air left in your lungs, you heave and gasp, sucking in air while tears continue to fall. The nightmare is still too vivid, too colorful, too gruesome to break free from its grasp that easily.
His grip on your shoulder tightens. He rolls you around, bringing you closer to the edge. You feel the cooler air, then the clash of his body against your side. Out of sheer instinct, you curl up, knees nearly hitting his chest as you hide away in his. You can feel him breathe, once the chest pressing against your shins and second, the warm waves of the air leaving his lungs hitting the side of your body. It’s cooling down the sweat sticking to your skin, a small blessing in all this mess.
His elbows dig into the mattress. You can feel it dip under the added weight, just enough to roll your body more into him. The grip on your shoulder changes, loosens, slides up and his fingers land easily in your hair. A few strands are curled around his fingers before you can even try to speak to him, while his other hand pushes itself between your body and the mattress. He drags you closer, closer and closer until all you breathe in is him, until you’re all safe and sound in his arms, and he can shield you a bit from the impact of the horrible imagery still haunting your mind.
There. You can see them now. See them all, but only he lived in your vision. He was the only one in colors, the only one to move full of grace, the crystal-clearness of all the details outshining everyone else. He was the only one who matters.
Him. The one who never looked twice at you, the one who always chased after someone else, the one who you admired, adored and loved for so long without anything in return.
There he was, in a marine-blue coat covering most of his body. The infamous mask, a bright dot of orange on his dark person clipped to his belt, half of his face speckled in the same bleach-white of the creatures your comrades die to like flies.
There was no way he would ever react to your voice in any way. You never mattered to him, he probably forgot all about you, a mere phantom of the past and living in the background of his memories. Still, when you spotted him, even from afar, your mouth opened wide and his name rolled off your tongue like it was second nature.
“Obito, I-! I can’t. There were so many people dying around me, I-!”
“Ssh.” His hug around you tightens. With every soft breath moving against your face, you can feel a shred of your anxiety peeling away. “Ssh, it’s fine now. It’s all good. I’m here with you. You’re here with me. Alright?”
A sob which had been stuck in your throat lodged itself free. You shake, tremble, just a leaf in the storm of your nightmare, and you start to cry into his chest. You shake your head as you cry, the sobs plentiful and tears coming from a bottomless well.
Obito lets you cry. He always does. He understands your nightmares, listens to the terrors and soothes you back to sleep, all with the patience of a saint. He always understands when you just need to be held and silently comforted, so, he continued to hold you and comb with feather-light touches through your hair, while more and more tears fall and soak into the linen of the mattress cover.
“Not this nightmare again, huh?” He mumbles. His lips move against your temple, pressing a kiss to your skin there. Another deep breath in and another kiss breathed to your temple, only for his hands to wander down to your waist. He drags you closer yet again, with his face shifting, so he can bury his face in the side of your neck. His breath brushes now against your rapidly beating pulse; another reassurance he is there with you. “It’s… what, the third time this month?”
You nod, while more sobs wreck through your body. “Yeah… I… Fuck.”
“Maybe another talk with Tsunade is in order?”
“She has no idea either. And I won’t…” You sniffle, a pitiful creature all around. “I don’t want to take any medicine. Not for this.”
Medicine which would muddle your senses and drag you down.
Your heart pounded in your chest like war drums. The scream nearly tore your voice cords, but as you already thought, none of the important figures took notice of you. They were too high above you in reputation and skill for your lowly voice to reach them. They didn’t even glance into your direction, and as their fight continued, the earth shook and the sky crumbled. At least, the chakra of all those powerful characters made you shiver and shake like the ant you were.
Your eyes were glued to him, to Obito, how he fought and hurt and tried to kill. Even though he was the enemy, your heart cheered whenever he managed to outplay his enemies. Your allies. Your friends. Your comrades by duty, honor and blood.
Your mere feelings betrayed them all.
If you were stronger, maybe Obito would have noticed. If you were stronger, you could have been able to chase after him. If you were fucking stronger, you could have been with him. But you simply weren’t.
“Love? Hey, love. You’re drifting off…”
“Obito?”
“Yeah, I’m here.”
“I’m sorry, I should have… I’m weak. Too weak for you. I could have done something to help you, to bring you back to Konoha, to save you.”
“Love, what are you…?”
“Obito, I never told you…” You breathe in, your heart still thundering in your ears and chest. “I love you. Loved you since we were children. I never said anything out of respect for Rin, but I can’t let you continue like-!”
“Love, I know. I know that.”
That ripped you out of the daze. You stutter, pause, and blink. Your vision returns, finally. Two visions overlap: once the battlefield with the tree covering half of the sky, on the other hand the solitude and peace of your bedroom - the bedroom you share with Obito.
Obito. The guy you met on a mission, years after you two drifted apart during childhood. The guy who was always late for everything, the guy who saved your ass when you were out of chakra. The one guy who came to visit you in the hospital, always with flowers or some silly little trinket as a gift. The guy who always smiled at you like you were the moon hanging upon the night sky, like you were his personal north star, like you truly meant something to him. All the dates and meetings came back to you, together with all the times you two shared - happy memories, not so happy ones, and everything in between.
Your Obito is there. Blinking once and twice, you try to clear your vision from the tears still rolling down your face.
“You’re here…” you whisper, “oh gods, Obito…”
“I’m here, my love. Still all yours.”
“I thought… for just a moment, I… That dream, it was so real this time…” You close your eyes, trying to erase the pictures still. “I really thought there was a war. That you went rogue. That you tried to…”
“Hey. Hey, hey, hey.” His voice rumbles in his chest, and you sob. Sob because he is really there, with you. “Love of my life, my sun and stars, my lovely little pumpkin seed, I’m here with you. You’re here with me. Like last night, like the night before, and all the other times. I’m not going anywhere.” His nose rubs over the side over your neck, more and more kisses peppering up and down your skin. Then, you can feel a grin form. “You’re not getting rid of me so easily.”
“I just…” For the first time since you woke up, you breathe in fully. It feels like a blanket is lifted off your chest and shoulders, even the surrounding details become more and more prominent, even in the darkness of the night. There was the half-open wardrobe, your clothes neatly folded and Obito’s barely stuffed into the belonging compartments. There are the pictures hanging on the walls and pictures on the nightstand: on his there is a picture of his old team with Minato Kamikaze, Rin and Kakashi; on yours is a picture of your family and your own old team. The big plant in the corner of the room is where you left it, just like the basket with the dirty laundry. His sweaty uniform peeks out of the basket, it needs washing. Desperately so. You know his toothbrush in the bathroom would be only half-heartedly cleaned, while yours is carefully stored away. You know there are two to three meals frozen in the freezer; all cooked by Obito and placed into the containers by you. You know all those details, because this is your life with him.
More tears fill your eyes as the reality filters in, covering up the nightmare like a blanket. “Oh gods… Obito…”
He hugs you closer, his embrace as secure and comforting as always. “No worries, love. No worries. Nothing happened.”
“It’s just… the dream felt so real this time.”
“Yeah? What happened?”
“You were…” You tried to swallow the ball of anxiety in your throat. “You fought against an allied force.”
You can feel his smile more than you hear it in his voice. “Really? What allied forces?”
“All Shinobi nations? Brought together by your plan to enslave the entire world in an illusion to ensure…”
His arms around you tighten. For a second, you choke, sputter, cough out. His arms feel like iron, pressing down on you and making it hard to breathe. Then, just in the blink of an eye, the feeling is gone in an instant, and you cuddle into his arms and chest. “To ensure that there would be world peace from now on.”
One of his hands slides up your waist. It draws a long line, from your hip to your waist up to your neck, and even further. You allow Obito to tip your face back, so you have no choice but to come out of your shell and the hiding place against his chest. In the soft moonlight falling through the window, you can make out the precious details of his face. Rough scars on one side, the other wrinkled by worry, care and love. His lips descend upon yours. The gentle kiss clears your mind even more so of the fog of a dark nightmare, chasing away the terrible pictures like it was nothing.
His thumb caresses your cheek, the rough and scarred skin stroking over your cheekbones with such obvious admiration it takes your breath away. “I would never,” his forehead bumps into yours, “never ever betray Konoha like that. You know me. Sure, there were many hardships in my life, but which shinobi hasn’t suffered one or two times during their career? Did I have you in that dream of yours?”
“No.” Slowly, to not break the precious contact between the two of you, you shake your head. “You never looked at me.”
“See? I must have been crazy to not notice how awesome you are. Was there someone by my side?”
“Uhm… Does Madara Uchiha count?”
That, somehow, stuns him into silence. His entire body stiffens, only for him to nod. Nod and close his eyes, wrinkles forming in the corners. And his mouth…
You gasped. “Are you seriously laughing at me?”
“No, love.” A muffled chortle laced every word, though. “Absolutely… Madara Uchiha, you say?”
“Don’t make fun of me!”
“I’m not… but… it is kind of funny.”
Before you could even think of struggling your way out of his embrace, Obito’s low laughter rolled through his chest. He doesn’t allow you to look away, his forehead pressing a bit harder into yours as he continued to explain, all the while his teeth flash from time to time in the darkness. “I’m feeling honored that you think I could keep up with that old dirtbag, but I’m certainly not that strong. That dude apparently leveled mountains? I can maybe put a decently sized hole in one, but not flatten one.”
Still, the pout continued to live on your face. Obito noticed after a few more seconds of silence, and his boyish grin faded. “Listen,” the tip of his nose brushed over yours, “the guy is nothing but a rotting skeleton by now. There’s no way he survived time. But,” he raised his lips to your forehead, pressing a gentle smooch there, “I’m feeling very, very honored you have such high expectations of me when it comes to treason.”
He just knew what to do to reassure you. The dream had been more real than the last ones, so he gently guided you through reality. Of course, Obito wasn’t as strong as Madara. Very strong by himself, and fighting alongside Kakashi they were nearly invincible, but no one but Hashirama would ever reach the level of his ancestor. His reality check helped; the coldness in your limbs eased away and made space for the love and comfort tingling in every fingertip and toe.
But he wasn’t done yet. His eyes flickered in the soft darkness, drinking in every detail of your face, all the while his mouth moved and his words made you relax more and more. “Listen here, love. I’m right here with you, and I won’t ever leave willingly. That Obito in your dream, he was a dumbass. He had no one but an old fossil to probably misguide him into that stupid world domination plan of his.” His mouth moved, pressed a silly little kiss to the tip of your nose. A giggle broke from, and his grin returned. “Aah, there you are. Where was I…? Aah.” Another breathy kiss, eliciting another giggle of yours. Suddenly, Obito grows serious again, his voice unbearably soft and gentle. “You anchor me, ground me, lift me up. I want nothing else but to wake up beside you every day of my life. I could never run off and do whatever I did in your dream, because it would mean that I would betray you. It would lead me away from your side, and I won’t ever do that.” Finally, his mouth found yours. Just a quick peck, sweet and short, only for another to follow. And another, each kiss lingering longer than the one before, right until your lips parted, and his tongue delved into your mouth. You sunk into the sea of love and lust for him, but just when the emotions threatened to overwhelm you, Obito pulled back.
His breath is labored, each wave brushing over your heated face as a promise. “Damn,” he sighs, “let us definitely go back to that in the morning. Right now, I just want to hold you. Make sure you know for sure that I will never leave you, because I love you.”
You sigh as well. Right. Obito loves you. There’s no more doubt in your mind when you lean your temple against his shoulder and close your eyes, enjoying his presence and embrace alike.
“I love you, too,” you mumble. You can feel one of his hands cup your face, holding onto you and making sure your sleep wouldn’t be disturbed again.
Everything is alright. Obito is with you, by your side, not having left the village. He loved you, you loved him. That nightmare didn’t matter at all, as it wasn’t reality.
Because this here, you being in Obito’s arms, this was real.
The Tsukuyomi-plan was a full success. As Obito looked down on the people he fought just a few minutes ago, all of them encompassed by the strings of the chakra-fruit-tree and starting their own dreams, he faintly wondered why they would struggle so much against the inevitable. Besides, it was peaceful on earth from here on out. Why did it matter which way it was achieved?
Madara had left the battlefield some time ago. Obito didn’t care where the old grunt went. Time to search for his own place to lie down and escape from this hell. As he wandered over the flattened surface, his naked feet with the scales of the Juubi scuffling through the ash and dirt, he paid no mind to the freed people left and right. They all led now happier, more carefree lives, without any hurt or pain or torture.
The fight had formed a small crater. When he reached the top of the rim, he could overlook the wide fields around. So many more people, but none of them laid close enough…
Wait. There was one cocoon, so close that the inhabitant must have been able to watch the battle up close. Obito remembered faintly an unknown voice calling out his name, but the chakra source had been so insignificant he hadn’t bothered. None of the others reacted to the shrill voice, as well.
Now, he had the time to inspect the source. A last act of curiosity before he would be with Rin again. Removing the cocoon around the face was nothing but child’s play to him. But when he looked into the face of the person inside, there was nothing. Not a memory coming back to him, not a sudden flash of a realization, nothing. This person had no business calling out to him in the middle of a fight — like they worried about him, his brain chimed in. Maybe their Tsukuyomi would help him understand.
“Hey. Hey, hey, hey. Love of my life, my sun and stars, my lovely little pumpkin seed, I’m here with you. You’re here with me. Like last night, like the night before, and all the other times. I’m not going anywhere. You’re not getting rid of me so easily.”
“I’m feeling honored that you think I could keep up with that old dirtbag, but I’m certainly not that strong. That dude apparently leveled mountains? I can maybe put a decently sized hole in one, but not flatten one.”
“Listen here, love. I’m right here with you, and I won’t ever leave willingly. That Obito in your dream, he was a dumbass. He had no one but an old fossil to probably misguide him into that stupid world domination plan of his. Aah, there you are. You anchor me, ground me, lift me up. I want nothing else but to wake up beside you every day of my life. I could never run off and do whatever I did in your dream, because it would mean that I would betray you. It would lead me away from your side, and I won’t ever do that.”
“Damn, let us definitely go back to that in the morning. Right now, I just want to hold you. Make sure you know for sure that I will never leave you, because I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
The weak spark of interest in his chest turned into dull pain. A lance of unknown emotions piercing right through his skin and bones, bothering him so much he actually reached up to massage the spot where his heart continued to drone on and on and on.
Someone had loved him from the shadows. For so long without receiving anything in return, right down to the point they were freed by the Tsukuyomi. And now, they dreamed of a peaceful life with him. A life in which they loved each other.
It was a decision made in the spur of the moment, but Obito couldn’t care less. The scales of the Juubi rustled along his body like dead leaves in Autumn as he lowered himself into the dirt. What better place to fall asleep than beside a person who at least cared about him in some way?
Even though he had no idea who that person was. Still, it was nice, Obito thought to himself as he closed his eyes, his mind already slowing down and the first pictures appearing in front of his inner eye, to know that there was someone beside his real body who had always loved him. A small reassurance, right before he drifted off.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
You spend your last days preparing for the inevitable. Meanwhile, Obito finds his resolve.
~ X ~
Hey there!
I'm so sorry for the huge delay on the last chapter. It grew and grew and grew. Sometimes, I wasn't even sure how I would finish this fic properly, because Obito was indeed a shitty friend through and through, and even when the epiphany hit me, I had no idea how I would properly execute the ending I imagined. It was hard, but I'm now very happy with the fic in itself and as a whole.
Thank you all for patiently waiting for me to wrap this up! Thank you for the support, the comments and likes you left, and for suffering through the angst with me >-<
Anyway, enough said. Enjoy the last chapter! :D
~ X ~
“You’re incredibly stupid.”
“I know.”
Anko scowled at you, arms crossed over her chest, then turned to stare out of the window of your small, cozy bedroom. Rain splattered against the glass, and the gray clouds covered the entire sky for as far as you could look from your bed.
“You,” she hissed, “are so fucking stupid, I wish I would’ve washed your head more thoroughly.”
You wanted to answer, but a few more petals blocked your throat. Coughing them up, you tried to breathe, but the plant probably grew another inch overnight. A quick breath from the oxygen tank sitting beside your bed later, your hand with the mask fell back onto the bed as you smiled weakly at her back. “I know, Anko. I know.”
Just a few days after the failed date with Obito, your health declined rapidly. One day, you were occasionally coughing up one or two petals and threw them away. Out of sight, out of mind, right? Now, you were bedridden and could barely stand up because you couldn’t breathe around the obnoxious flowers growing higher and higher. Sometimes you thought you could feel the plant grow, the roots digging deeper into your lungs and the blossom tickling at your throat. And the petals, oh, the petals. Sickly sweet on your tongue, the smell of flowers constantly in your nose between the cold retching and emptying out your stomach over the toilet or a nearby bucket. It was hell, and even though Anko visited with nothing but weak insults, it took your mind off of the inevitable.
You would die soon.
At the speed at which the disease progressed, it could happen tomorrow or next week. Not months like you hoped for. Weeks, days even. Not much longer to live, but you took it in stride. Some leftovers from the emotionlessness were your saving grace, making it… easier, somehow. Easier to accept your fault in this situation, and even deal with the reactions of the people around you.
Anko was actually the easiest to deal with. She masked her own weakened emotions with insults. Iruka visited the day before, and the entire time, his eyes swam with not spilled tears. He was the exact opposite of Anko. All emotions, worried fiddling, and asking if you were alright. When you were coughing up a storm, he looked even more worried, with his soft brown eyes going wide and staring at you like you would die right there and then. And Kakashi… Kakashi was the worst. At the message that your disease progressed quicker than initially believed, he turned into a ghost. Not a word of him since then. He never had been good at dealing with sudden tragedies, which you understood to an extent.
Again, petals choked you and every cough hurt like hell as you tried to dislodge the petals. You were only dimly aware of Anko, how she instantly went to your side to pat your back and rub your shoulders, trying to give you some comfort as you struggled to just breathe. Only when another lump of petals and spit fell onto the blanket, you were able to smile weakly at her. “Thanks, Anko.”
Your friend merely scoffed. “Do not thank me for this. Do not say anything to me. I’m fucking pissed at you.”
“I know.”
“You shouldn’t have to die.”
Still smiling, you closed your eyes. “I know.”
“You shouldn’t…” The mattress by your side dipped down as Anko settled her weight fully onto it. “You shouldn’t have to struggle like this.”
“I know that.”
Automatically, you made some space for her. Without looking at you, Anko slid further onto the bed, until she could sit by your side and lean her head against your shoulder. You let her, still smiling and with your mind drifting off to nicer topics.
For a while, you two sat together like that. Nothing like the silence comforting you, only disturbed by the weak wheezes of your breath and the rustling deep within your lungs. Minutes passed by like hours, or hours like minutes. The timeless bubble burst when the soft vibrations of your phone started to rattle the nightstand.
You didn’t react, just let Anko look at the display and figure things out. Her irritated scoff told you exactly who was trying to call, and only when she accepted the call to blow a fart noise through the speaker, you cracked a small smile at her antics.
“Let me guess,” you mumbled, some syllables already wheezing again, “it was him.”
“You should block his number.” But instead of doing it herself, the woman dropped the phone into your lap. “Seriously. He won’t do you any good.”
Weakly, you grasped for the phone. Strange, how fast your strength seeped away in just a few days. Maybe another sigh how much you fucked yourself over. When you saw the screen and the many messages Obito left, together with the notifications of several missed calls, you sighed and let the phone drop back into your lap.
“I know.” The familiar phrase fell easily from your lips. Maybe, one day, you might even start to believe that you learned your lesson and truly “knew”.
~ X ~
Obito wanted to trash and shout. He wanted to cry and weep. He wanted to hear your voice, to touch your hand, to see if you were alright. But he could do neither of these things, because you wouldn’t let him. But even worse, he couldn’t because he was so fucking blind and stupid to not see what was going on until it was way too late.
Just a few fucking days. A few days since he saw you hacking up flowers like there was no tomorrow and the terrible realization that he was at fault.
Yet again. At fault yet again.
Another realization which came to him in the dead of the night, making him sit up straight and groan out in raw despair like a wounded animal. You changed so much during the last months, right after the supposed “harmless, small” surgery. Right after the fight he had with you, the one where he told you about Rin finally accepting his proposal. It always had been him triggering Hanahaki in you.
He was the one to bring you so much suffering. And now knowing you were suffering, he drove in more and more needles with his behavior. Telling you all the struggles he had with the relationship with Rin. Him glorifying as well as complaining about her to you all the time, making you listen to him and give him advice. So many times, he had hurt you, and so many times, you just continued to smile and offer and hand out.
And he took so much from you.
Another sleepless night, and Obito laid again awake. The ceiling was awfully familiar these days, but whenever some anxious part of him would scream at him to go to sleep, he denied himself. He could only do that. As some small repentance for all the pain he caused you.
But it’s incredibly self-serving, isn’t it?
She isn’t seeing it. She will never know. This is only to make yourself feel better.
Like always, you’re looking for the simple way out, for yourself. You selfish fuck.
Obito turned onto the side, still staring blindly into the darkness. It was. He knew that it was. He knew he was a “selfish fuck”, knew it, knew it, knew it. A disgusting prick, dumb and stupid and foolish, and blind on top of that.
You’re repeating yourself.
How typical. Wallowing in your misery like a pig basking in mud.
What else do you want to do? Cry yourself to sleep as another service for you and yourself and your sake only?
Again, Obito turned in his bed. The sheets felt way too heavy on his skin, scratching and itching him to the point that he believed that ants were crawling right beneath the surface. What else was he supposed to do? What could he do? What did he want to do?
I want to be with her. I want to see her smile at me every day. I want to…
Love her so much.
But would that be enough? After all the shit he put you through? Probably not. Despite his daydreamer-attitude, Obito knew that real life solemnly worked that way, that problems would be magically wiped away by true love and real friendship and raw honesty. In theory, he already knew what he had to do to be worthy of you and show that he wanted you, but the path towards that goal would be hard and unforgiving. Plus, Obito had to do something he never allowed himself to do: work on himself so that he would become a better human being. And, first and foremost, also become a real human adult, not an adult-sized high schooler with the mindset of a kindergartener.
Before he could chicken out, Obito sat up and reached for his phone. He had to do it now, when the resolution was still fresh in his mind. If he pushed the matter onto tomorrow, he wouldn’t do it. Instead, he would continue to be a pathetic sack of bullshit and never forgive himself for not being there for you. Finally, after all this time, as a true friend and potentially a true partner.
The phone call went to voicemail. Once, twice, thrice. But Obito didn’t give up, selecting the same number over and over again, until the sleep-riddled voice of his childhood friend finally rasped through the connection.
“You better call me for a very good reason, Dumb-ito.”
“I fucked up.” There wasn’t another way to say it. Obito kneaded his knee as he held the phone to his ear, staring blindly at the bedroom-wall and seeing nothing but the resignation in your eyes as you came up from throwing up petals into the trash bin right outside the cinema. “Kakashi, I need your help. I need to… I need to be better.”
“No shit.”
“No, you don’t… I need to do something. I need to work on myself because if I don’t, then (Y/N) won’t want to see me because I’m such a dumb fuck I didn’t notice her having Hanahaki.”
“Because of you.”
“Because of me”, he mumbled, cleared his throat, then carried onward, “because of me, she’s again in danger of dying, and I need to show her that I can change for her, so she will see me, and so I can…”
“Confess your feelings?”
“No.” His fingers stopped kneading the knee. Instead, they balled into a fist, tight and tense, but also determined. Obito breathed out, then his eyes focused. “To save her. And then it’s her decision if she even wants me. Either way, she needs to live. Nothing else matters.”
~ X ~
“Your Hanahaki is advancing really fast this time around.” Tsunade’s face didn’t portray one inch of her emotions as her stethoscope wandered over your chest. You didn’t pull a face at the unbearably cold point wandering over your sweaty, hot skin, just bore the sensations on your feverish body with stoic resignation. The doctor sighed weakly, then pulled the stethoscope away. “To be realistic, I give you a few weeks. Three, tops.”
Three weeks. Not even a full month. But the prospect of dying so soon didn’t seem that big all of a sudden. Quietly, you nodded at her estimation. “Alright. Seems reasonable.”
“Reasonable?” Tsunade snorted dryly. “I shouldn’t expect anything else from someone who already went through a Hanahaki-removal, but that’s cold.”
“It is reasonable. That time frame should give me still enough time…” You paused, coughed, and ignored the petals falling into the palm of your hand. Rolling over your bed, you dropped them in the trashcan right by your side, then turned and watched how Tsunade straightened to her full impressive height. “Should give me enough time to get my affairs in order.”
“You could try surgery again,” Tsunade said as she packed her stethoscope away, “I know, chances of success are slim and if it helps, you will still have trouble breathing, but you wouldn’t have to die.”
“No.” A weak breath in, and another cough shook your body to the very core. “No more surgeries. No more remedies. I made the same mistake twice, and if this goes on, I might make it a third time.”
“What?”
“Hanahaki? I believe,” still wheezing and coughing, you sat up, ignoring Tsunade’s helping hands and her attempts to help you, “I believe it’s punishment. I didn’t dare to confess my feelings, kept quiet about it, and got the receipt for that. I paid my debt and tried to move on, but was dumb enough to get back into contact with Obito. I made the same mistake twice and this…” You gestured around, to the trash can filled almost to the brim with more or less bloody petals, to the oxygen tank Anko brought with her “just in case”, and to Tsunade herself. “This is my punishment. I could have avoided this by confessing, this long and dreadful suffering through breathlessness and pain. It’s alright. It… It has to be.”
At your explanation, Tsunade merely scoffed. “A quite metaphorical explanation. And not what I believe in.”
“What do you believe in, then?”
“In medicine. In the ability of humans to do better. Maybe even a bit in love.”
Only now, you noticed the thin gold band around her ring finger. While she spoke, the doctor subconsciously touched the connection to her partner, letting her thumb and index finger run over the ring like she touched some part of her lover.
At the sight, you had to smile, despite the faint pain still running through your lungs. “Seems like you’re pretty smitten with them.”
“Unfortunately so.” Tsunade sighed. “He’s a terrible pervert and absolutely asinine most of the time, but he’s… he cares. Especially after the death of my first husband.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Don’t be. It has been years, and it was an accident. Now, with Jiraiya, it feels like…” She fell silent, thinking obviously very carefully about her next words. “I… I didn’t want to be together with someone else ever again. Plus, Jiraiya was, and sometimes still is, an incredibly lousy person. But he got so much better, worked on himself, and is definitely a better person than he was when we first met.”
“That sounds…” Another harsh cough wrecked through your body. When you pulled your hand away from your mouth again, there were some specks of blood clinging to your skin. With a low sigh, you reached for the nightstand and grabbed a tissue from the tissue box to wipe your hand clean. “Sounds like you went through a lot. Thanks for telling me.”
“I’m not telling you this because you’re supposed to feel sorry for me.” And back was the harsh and unforgiving Doctor Senju. “You’re supposed to learn from my terrible sob story of a life. Especially when you’re throwing your life away like this.”
“That might be true, but ultimately, it’s my life to throw away.” This time, the cough didn’t leave your body easily. You wretched, you coughed, you doubled over while clutching one hand desperately over your mouth, while more and more petals forced their way up your throat, to the point tears streamed down your face as there was simply no air left in your lungs.
Without a word, Tsunade helped. A gentle yet strong hand stroked over your back, while also preparing wads and wads of tissue to be placed in your overflowing, bloody hands. Hours of agony, compressed into just a few minutes. There was simply no air, with your throat constricting around petals and roots.
“Doesn’t feel like I will make it to the Three-Week-Mark,” you joked weakly as you finally calmed down enough to even be able to speak, “more like I will die tomorrow.”
“Not tomorrow, no.” But you saw it in her eyes. She had to reevaluate her prognosis, so you weren’t surprised when she shortened your estimated time to two weeks. It was just the consequences of your actions finally catching up to you. For being too scared to ruin a friendship, for being stubborn enough to hold onto these feelings instead of letting them go, for being careless to bring yourself into the same situation twice.
Two weeks. Still enough time to clear things up.
~ X ~
Obito definitely felt out of place. The waiting room didn’t make it one bit better, despite all the supposed to be calming artwork and different shades of green and blue. Mint green walls, a light turquoise couch with sea-green… or sea-blue pillows sitting in each corner, and Obito tried very hard to not think about the many other people having sat on the same sofa, in the same waiting room, in the same predicament as him. Or a similar one, at least.
For the tenth time or so, he dried his sweaty palms in his jeans. Fuck, the last time he had been this nervous was probably the day he asked out Rin for the very last time.
No, not really. He had been so sure of rejection that it came as a shock when she actually agreed to go on one date with him. No, the last time he had been this nervous… that had been telling you about the date.
Obito could still remember it as clear as the sun outside. Out of reasons unknown to him, Rin said yes to his proposal, which only left him to tell you. And oh boy, that had been more nerve wracking than anything he did in a long while. His tongue had been stuck to the roof of his mouth, his palms had been just as sweaty as they were now, and the words barely came out when he said them to you that day inside the café.
What did that mean? Obito had a faint clue, but couldn’t finish the thought at all. A door to his right opened, and he looked up, his hands still pressed to his jean-cladded thighs.
“Well, who do we have here?”
Obito was first and foremost a man. Even though he was pretty unhappy with himself at the moment and didn’t even find the strength to properly shave his minimal stubble prickling around his jawline, he could admit that the therapist was a very beautiful woman. Red flames of hair cascaded down her back and was tied into a high top knot, with bloody red lips to match the hair. Her costume clung to her body like a second skin, while also looking as professional as one could be. With her bright green eyes, she mustered Obito, how he sat there in her office, feeling all small and shabby and insignificant in comparison to her.
A little smile flashed over her face. “Obito Uchiha? Are you my next appointment?”
He nodded. He couldn’t do more, not when his throat clamped basically shut.
“Alright, then come up and in. After all, a therapy session is better handled in private.” Not waiting for him, she turned around and walked back into the office. There was nothing else left to do but follow her.
The office of the therapist looked just as sophisticated as the woman herself. Two comfy armchairs faced each other in a sunlit corner of the room, with a wide oak desk sitting right across the room. Deep earthy and wooden tones mixed with rich red and blue, only to be subtly complimented by a glass table sitting between the two armchairs with a box of tissues waiting there like a promise.
Obito swallowed thickly. This was really happening. He was really here, trying to do… something. The tiny wave of relief eased the knot of anxiety curling in the deepest pit of his stomach. Only when the therapist waved at him to drop some of his things onto a nearby stool, he followed the suggestion.
For a few seconds, she continued to scribble something onto a notepad. More time for Obito to look around and inspect his surroundings, which did wonders for his nerves. His hands, now hanging loosely at his side, relaxed a tiny bit more and even the constant flow of sweat eased up for just a few minutes.
Just until the woman slammed the pencil onto her notepad. Her fierce eyes found him easily, and as she narrowed her eyes to muster him thoroughly, Obito believed to be scanned inside and out. An unsettling feeling, to be honest. Like she could see right through him, peer into the core of his soul and decipher his own complicated emotions with just a blink of her eyes.
Then, she cocked her head to the side, and the little bubble burst. “My name is Mei Terumi. As you know, I’m a licensed therapist. If I understand correctly from the call you made with my secretary, you want to work on yourself.”
Again, Obito wiped his sweaty hands off at his jeans. “Yeah. I want to… I feel like I have… I don’t know, like I’m not good enough. At all.”
“Ah. And how did you come to that conclusion?”
“I’m…” Again, Obito sighed, so heavy his entire body moved alongside the sound. “I didn’t pay attention to a close friend. There was a girl involved which I crushed on for a long time, and I neglected my friend for so long that they blew up on me. Rightfully so. I pushed her aside when she needed me, only to dump all of my troubles on her. I… I was just a huge asshole to her and now…”
“What changed?”
“What?”
“I asked,” Mei leaned back into her chair, “what changed your perspective? Something must have happened.”
All of it happened. Obito’s thoughts immediately flew back to the first time he saw you after the long break. He had instantly recognized you. He remembered the moment, so clearly, he had no problem recalling that split second in which your eyes met. Even after the terrible fight you two had, it all had been forgotten. Then eating ice cream together, drawing your boundaries for the first time, visiting you so many times Obito lost count, while Rin nagged him about spending so much time with you. All of a sudden, the situation reversed: with him scrambling to see you every chance he got and his new relationship becoming more and more a prison.
But was he ready to reveal the true extent of his mistakes to this woman? A stranger, even though she was supposed to help him?
Mei was still merely looking at him. Unending patience laid in her eyes, so much so that Obito mentally slapped himself.
I’m doing this for (Y/N). She suffered so much that the least I can do is this.
“When I met her again after… a fallout”, he started, “and I… I think I realized that I missed her so much. That I had feelings for her which I was blind to.”
“And did you act on those feelings at all?”
“Later on. Not immediately.”
“And what now?”
“She has… I think it’s Hanahaki. And I suspect,” the slump in the pit of his stomach deepened, “that she had it before too. She… changed a lot over the period we didn’t see each other. And she mentioned a surgery, said it was her appendix, but… it was like she was never really there.”
“And how come you now want to work on yourself? How does that come into play?” The thunder of a pen clicking reached his ears, bursting the little bubble around him.
Obito nibbled only for a few more seconds on the inside of his cheek before he answered. “I want to be better. I know I’m a shitty friend and have terrible habits, and I want to learn how to overcome that. Then, I hope, I can be a partner to rely on, instead of a flaky, unsteady friend.”
Mei scribbled something on her notepad. Gods, he just hoped it was something positive. Maybe something along the lines of “not a total lost cause”.
“That is…” She clicked her tongue, only for her intense eyes to pierce right through his soul. “That is a satisfactory answer. For a man, that is. Definitely something I can work with.”
That sounded suspiciously like… “You will work with me?”
The smile the therapist gave him would have been scary if Obito wouldn’t be so desperate. “For now. Maybe we can dive a bit deeper into your issues with priorities for the rest of the session…?”
~ X ~
The days bled into each other the longer you laid in bed. And the longer you laid in bed, the weaker you got, and the harder it became to simply breathe. Except for the few times you threw up from the roots and stem tickling your lungs on the inside, nothing else happened. Your parents came by to help you organize a few things, mostly figuring out which part of your things could be donated and storing more personal items for themselves. Then, Anko showed up a lot, visiting nearly every second day or whenever her job allowed it.
“I have letters for all of you.”
One late evening, you were actually sitting in your big armchair, with Anko lounging on the nearby couch. Your eyes constantly fluttered over to the spot where Obito sat just a few weeks ago, in his tank top and thick jacket, preferring to sweat away in the summer heat than showing you the scars of his accident you already knew like the back of your hand.
The woman perked up. Even her hand holding onto a paper fan stopped for a few seconds, only to pick up just as lazily as before. “Letters? On paper?”
“That’s how you write letters. Or so I have been told.” You were proud that you could bring out those two sentences without coughing too much. Still, you took a quick breath from the oxygen container right beside you, before you could continue. “Yeah, letters. They’re in the drawer in my nightstand. Every letter is already addressed. I just want you to hand them over.”
“Alright.” Anko returned to her lounging, with her hair wildly curling around her head. “For whom are the letters?”
“Oh, the usual suspects.” You shrugged while taking another breath of oxygen. “You, Kakashi, Iruka. My Parents. Obito.”
“Dumb-ito!?” Your friend shot up from the couch. “Seriously?”
“Yeah, seriously. He deserves one, too.” With a glare which could freeze hell over, you leveled Anko, who was in the process of starting up a discussion. “I have no more shits left to give, Anko. I don’t care if you think he doesn’t deserve one, that he’s at fault for my… I simply do not care. You will give him the letter, you will let him read it without making any comments, and you will not rip it away from him. If his letter doesn’t make it to him after I’m not there, I will come back to haunt you. Got it?”
“Jeez, alright.” You could hear her rolling her eyes from your position. Anko never had been subtle. “The letter will find him. One way or another.”
“Anko…”
“Fine, urgh. Dumb-ito will get his letter. Pull the stick out of your ass.”
“Not in this life anymore, no.” Another cough and another labored breath with the oxygen only giving a small relief, and you leaned back into your armchair. “Good. Another thing crossed-off my list.”
Silence laid again over the two of you, only interrupted by your occasional dry coughing. Through a slightly opened window, the hot summer air could stream in and fill the air with something akin to a cool breeze, not that it helped much. Even though you could feel the sweat running down your temples and sticking your clothes to your skin, you didn’t feel hot. Just… numb. Every feeling was overshadowed by the scraping of the flowers against the inner sides of your windpipe.
Closing your eyes, you just tried to breathe. Breathed and relaxed when another cough rattled through your body, shaking you to the very core. Every nerve felt like it tensed and unclenched, your stomach trying to decide if you needed air more than to give in to the urge to vomit.
“Everything alright?” Anko’s voice had the decency to sound worried. “You sound like you want to cough up a wet opossum right there.”
“As alright as one can be”, you rasped, only for another cough to break through. Somehow, this one was even worse than before, and when you were done, with tears standing in your eyes, there was blood speckled across the palm of your hand. Thick, dark red blood, which was bad.
For once, Anko didn’t make a comment about your state. You could feel her eyes following your every movement closely as you reached over to the coffee table, where a box with wet wipes stood. You didn’t have to look at your hand as you wiped it clean, you just slumped back into your chair with your eyes closed.
“At this point,” you mumbled, “I would actually prefer dying sooner than later. I don’t know for how long I can do this.”
“Don’t talk like that.”
“What else is there left to say?” Still with your eyes closed, you shrugged weakly. Gods, you were fucking tired. Maybe a little nap would finally release you from this suffering. “I have most of my stuff in order, prepared my final goodbyes, even selected my urn. I’m done with this life, Anko. The only thing I’m waiting on is my dea-!”
“Shut the fuck up.”
Honestly, you half expected Anko to interrupt your negative rant. Seriously, some part of you hated yourself for being so casual about your own departure from this world. It wasn’t right, but the only thing left in your control. You could never really tell what Anko thought, but one thing you learned for sure over the last months: she was adamantly against all negativity on your part.
And talking about your own death definitely counted as negative.
Cracking one eye open, you looked at her. Despite the heat and her earlier lax attitude, your friend was sitting upright like someone rammed a steel rod right through her spine. Her eyes nearly shot lightning at you as a scowl came to life on her face, all hard lines and angry wrinkles.
“Never,” she abruptly stood up, only to squeeze yourself into the small space on your armchair, “ever talk shit like that again. Do you think your death won’t leave an empty spot behind? We all will grieve! We all will miss you like crazy! You had an impact on us, if you want it or not, and we will miss you. I…” The woman paused for a second, swallowed dryly before shaking her head. “I will miss you. You’re… probably the only friend with whom I didn’t have to hide anything. Not being the only one… is a relief.”
Not the only one in their friend group. Not the only one faking some emotions while lying through your teeth. Not the only one hiding some small part of yourself still. Looking into her eyes, you knew with sudden clarity that Anko had been feeling lonely all this time, when no one knew her secret. So incredibly lonely, just a spark of something living deep down in the pit of her stomach, but yet gnawing at her for years.
Anko always portrayed herself as the hard, tough, sharp woman who didn’t care and definitely didn’t ask anyone about their opinion. And yet, she was there, a bit awkward and concerned, but still trying to cuddle into your side like she was seeking comfort and companionship. And she probably was, in her own, very thorny and special way.
Slowly, you raised your arm so Anko could press her temple to your shoulder. She accepted the unspoken invitation, one of her legs dangling over the armrest of the chair, the other half of her body molded into your side.
You wanted to say something, just anything, but no words would come out of your mouth. So, you let your mouth fall close again, and instead just enjoyed the simple contact between your friend and you.
There wouldn’t be much of that in the future, after all.
~ X ~
Obito was in the middle of writing down a happy childhood memory with his grandma when his front door was nearly knocked down by furious knocking. Well, he certainly only knew one person who would be that brash to stop by around… he checked the clock and closed his eyes for a few seconds. At around eleven in the evening.
I could let her stand there. Just let her stand there and climb out of the window.
Right. She will probably break the door down and jump right after me.
Anko always had no sense of self-preservation.
“Open this stupid door, you thickheaded idiot!”
He could still pretend to simply not be there. Stay silent and sit with his pen clutched between his fingers until his knuckles turned white, right at the small kitchen table, and hope that Anko wouldn’t dare to really break the door down. There was a chance that she would just… leave. Maybe.
“I said,” more knocking and Obito swore he could hear the wood of the door groaning, “open the door you scared dumb fuck with pissed pants! I can smell the shit from out here!”
For a few moments, Obito continued to sit tight. Just a bit of hope he had left that he could maybe get away with it, only for a boom resounding through his entire flat. Fuck, he swore he could hear the bones of his upstairs neighbor rattling!
“Open,” another, rather polite knock, “the fucking,” another kick, “door!”
“Stop it, you crazy nutcase!” There they went, his dreams of spending a quiet evening and working away on the task his therapist gave to him. “I’m coming to the door, but don’t kick it down!”
Thankfully, the banging stopped. Still, Obito couldn’t help but diddle a bit around on his way towards the front door, stopping for a few moments now and then in his small and cramped apartment. But he couldn’t stretch time out into eternity, and like that, he found himself with the hand on the handle of his front door and with a pounding heart. He really, really didn’t want to face Anko, not like this, but apparently, she decided to kill him now. Or something.
One last breath in, and he opened the door with a wide gesture and more courage than he actually had. “What do you want? Except for making sure I totally do not get my security deposit back?”
Anko’s grimace at his sight would have scared others, but lately Obito didn’t see any other face on her. “I do not fucking care about your security deposit, you dimwit.” Not waiting for him to invite her in, she pushed past him. Her elbows were as sharp as ever as they were pushed into his stomach. Obito didn’t believe in coincidences anymore when it came to Anko. But he didn’t say anything, just rubbed the small bruise above his navel and closed the door.
Of course, she also didn’t have the decency to take off her shoes before she stomped into his living room.
“Whoever is there above,” Obito mumbled while pinching the bridge of his nose, “please. Give me strength. Give me fucking strength.”
When he followed Anko into his living room, he was mildly surprised to find her still standing. Usually, she would instantly throw herself into the next best couch or armchair, whichever she felt like, but now she just stood there, with her hands not even in the hands of the pockets of her usual brown trench coat. No, instead her hands were balled up, hanging by her sides, with her shoulders tense and drawn up.
Obito didn’t dare to go near her. Who knows what she might-!
“She’s dying.”
It took him a moment to realize who Anko was talking about. Only when she turned around, her face as cold as ice, he knew. His stomach turned upside down, and he felt like puking his guts out.
“(Y/N)?” He had to ask. Maybe there was a tiny bit of hope that she meant someone else.
But Anko only had to nod, and the small spark of hope faded. “It’s bad. She’s… getting weaker every fucking minute I spend with her.”
“How is she now?”
“Barely able to breathe without coughing. I think,” for just a second, Obito believed to see the hint of a tear shimmering in her eyes, “I think she’s dying soon, Obito. A few days, max.”
A few days. Just a few days and (Y/N) would be gone forever. Just an empty shell left behind, for good this time. The nauseous feeling in his stomach turned into a block of ice at the realization that there was simply not enough time.
Anko turned around, the flaps of her coat swishing through the air. With her arms crossed over her chest and her stony face, she really was a scary sight to see. Only this time, Obito couldn’t find it in him to be scared of her, when there were more important things to worry about.
He knew what was about to come even before Anko opened her mouth again. Still with her arms crossed, she stepped closer, so close he could see the frustration at the hopelessness of the situation burning in her eyes. “Just tell me: do you have some kind of romantic feeling for her? Just an inkling? A tiny-!”
“I do love her.” The answer was so easy, yet a huge weight lifted from his shoulders. Admitting it for the first time out loud felt… right. “I love her romantically. Loved her for a long time now.”
“Then why even let it come this far?” She threw her hands up. “Why even get together with Rin, why even chase after her when (Y/N) was right there? Always waiting, always looking after you, always caring for your ungrateful, blind ass?”
He shrugged. “Something to do with the security and familiarity of Rin as a childhood friend as well as a subconscious longing for more innocent and better times, according to my therapist.”
“A therapist?” Anko echoed. Both of her eyebrows shot upwards, nearly vanishing in her hairline. “Why the hell do you have a therapist now?”
“Because I obviously wouldn’t get better on my own. Besides,” he leveled a glare at her, “someone always said I should get some professional help because I probably fell on my head as a kid one too many times.”
“I still stand behind that statement.”
“The point is,” Obito breathed in, trying to not let his own anger at Anko get the better of him, “(Y/N) deserves some who is… good. Someone who isn’t like me.”
“But,” the woman crossed her arms over her chest, glaring at him, “you’re the only chance she has.”
Just in time, he could stop himself from spouting the entire speech he already had half-written in his head. For the big moment when he could face you again. Anko would probably just make fun of him for the speech, anyway. So, he kept quiet, shook his head, and just asked: “What do you want now from me, Anko? Because you made it very clear you don’t like me for exactly that reason. Because I’m not good enough for her, and I fucking agree for once with you.” His stomach turned into a tight knot, while he tried to spit out the words which had been rolling around in his head for so long. Even longer than he had known Anko, you or even Rin. “I’m not good enough. I’m a fucking piece of shit. Is that what you want to hear? There, I said it! I’m a dumb loser who isn’t able to show up on time, who forgets and overlooks stuff, who can’t concentrate, who is so dumb and blind that he can’t even see when one of his friends is struggling so much that she’s on the verge of dying. I don’t deserve (Y/N)’s love, and she doesn’t deserve to suffer because of a brick like me.”
Silence reigned the space between them. Only his labored breath echoed way too loud in between the walls, and Obito could hear his heart beat thunder in his ears. All of his insecurities, bared to a person he would have never thought to open himself up to.
Anko didn’t answer immediately. Her face scrunched up like she smelled something nasty, only to hiss straight through her teeth like a feral cat. “Good. Because you are a dumb idiot. But out of reasons which are beyond me, she needs you more than anyone else right now. So go, save her! I don’t care how you do it, but at least save her life, you selfish baby!”
His heart jumped into his throat. Did Anko really…? “What?”
“You understood me well enough! Save her, you selfish prick! I need my friend, and for that, she needs you to pull your head out of your ass, get out of that fucking door and spill the truth to her!”
“Now?”
“The sooner, the better!” Her grim expression would have fit a battlefield more than this situation. “The flower is so close to choking her. Her coughs are… like her lungs want to jump out of her mouth at any moment.”
He could only imagine. The wet yet painfully dry cough he remembered from the last time he saw you was branded into his brain. It haunted him not only in his nightmares, but in his waking state as well. So hurtful, so hard your entire body shook, so harsh even his ears had bled. If the coughing only worsened since then…
“Come on!” Fingers wrapped themselves like steel around his wrist. Anko had taken a hold of him and obviously didn’t plan to let go of him. “Hurry up! This can be solved so easily now.”
But even though her fingers tried to tug him into the direction of the front door, Obito resisted. His brain thought all scenarios through, one more terrible than the other. What if you would reject him? What if you were already gone? What if you didn’t love him…
You know that the last one is bullshit.
You have the physical proof right there, under your nose.
Don’t be even stupider than you usually are.
Anko noticed his doubts. But for once, she didn’t say anything, just let him figure it out himself. And after all this time of doubts and running after a mere illusion of happiness, he was definitely ready to chase after the right person.
Screw his doubts. As he half stumbled, half fell out of the door of his messy flat, barely able to pull on shoes, he had an epiphany. He would never be truly ready to face you. Never be good enough in his own eyes. Never live up to his own expectations. He could only keep on trying, and try to be better than the day before.
He could only hope that he wasn’t too late for once.
~ X ~
Before your small nap, Anko had been right there with you, still cuddled up to your side, with sweat sticking to your skin. When you woke up, with blood coating your tongue and a cough wrecking through your entire body, she wasn’t there anymore.
Probably left to grab some food.
There isn’t much left.
That’s completely fine. I won’t need a fridge soon anyway.
Again, you closed your eyes. Nothing to do but try and try again to fall into a rough sleep. Maybe you were even lucky enough to finally pass away during that nap. That would solve a few of your problems, at least.
A deep breath in, rattling in your lungs, and you snuggled a bit deeper into the armchair. Tomorrow, Tsunade wanted to stop by again and check up on you, maybe even try to convince you to take your chance on confessing to Obito-!
The front door of your flat opened. Anko had the keys, so you weren’t concerned, but when you barely made out some hushed whispers and at least two pairs of shoes being discarded in the entrance area, your eyes popped open once more.
You tried to peer through the dim darkness. One look at a nearby clock told you that it was just twelve minutes before midnight. Maybe Anko got drunk and picked up a stranger, only to do the dirty deed now on your poor couch? Who knew.
“Hello?” Gods, your voice was so terribly weak and croaky. You tried to clear your throat, only for new petals to block the path into your lungs. Choking and coughing, you at first didn’t notice how the light was switched on and how the living room was entered. You first found yourself leaning forward in your armchair, hands clutched to your mouth and speckled with blood as they slowly fell back into your lap. Then, and only then, you looked up to see…
Obito.
The plant inside your lungs throbbed. You had no other words, but there was some kind of surge as your eyes found his, and you started coughing again. More petals flooded your palms, fell into your lap, blood-red streaks over innocent white petals. Tears burned in your eyes, too many to stop them from overflowing. But there were hands; incredibly gentle and familiar hands there in an instant. Those hands touched your shoulder, wandered down to your back, patted you with a tenderness you always missed during the last week to alleviate some of your struggle.
“Sssh.” His low baritone was unmistakable. His voice rumbled through your body like a small earthquake with its epicenter right by your side. “It’s alright. Get it out. Get it all out.”
There was no chance of “getting it out”, but the petals and the roots made it impossible to speak. Your fingers turned into claws as the coughing just wouldn’t stop, more wetness spreading over your palms, mixed with spittle and so, so many petals. But through all the pain flashing through your veins, Obito was there by your side. His hands never left your body, trying to soothe the hurt he involuntarily and unknowingly caused.
Only when the cough subsided, and you could breathe relatively freely, you were able to actually think.
Obito. Obito in my flat. Obito in my flat and trying to make me relax, helping me through a petal attack.
One look up and past Obito, and you knew who the culprit was. Anko, the meddlesome woman who couldn’t just let you die in peace, seemed way too innocent. She apparently decided to try and fade into the background, which was so untypical for her that you actually snorted.
“Really, Anko? Fucking really?”
The traitor didn’t even seem guilty. She shrugged while inspecting her fingernails. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“You know exactly that this,” you gestured vaguely into Obito’s direction, “was exactly what I didn’t want. For him to see me like this, for him to pity me, for him to…” You didn’t want to look into his eyes. You couldn’t. There would be distaste at your state, with your messy clothes, the disheveled and unwashed hair, the dark bags beneath your eyes, the sweat and blood staining your entire body, the damned cough every few strained breaths. Nothing you could do about it but hide away from him, so he didn’t have to see what kind of creature you had been reduced to. You clicked your tongue while still not trying to arch too much into his hand still pressed to your shoulder. “I wanted to avoid this, Anko.”
“Too bad you have given up, but I sure as hell didn’t.” Again, the other woman shrugged. “Alright, have fun kids, and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”
“Anko, you fucking-!” But like a Tasmanian devil, your friend was already gone, with the front door closing with a final, resounding ‘snap’. With a deep sigh and another quick cough, you breathed in. “Great.”
“I expected a lot,” his voice was soothing the lingering ache better than any cough syrup could, “but certainly not this.”
Any words you wanted to say to him died on your tongue. His touch was still just there, gentle fingers on your shoulder, with his scent washing over you. Dammit, why couldn’t you just stay strong for a bit? No, you had to melt at his touch, his presence and his voice, familiar and wonderfully soft and warm. Like dried linen, fresh out of the dryer. Or more like a fireplace in a stormy night, a single beacon of comfort for you after weeks of silently suffering.
Truly pathetic.
“What did you expect then?” You couldn’t look him in the eyes. You just couldn’t. Instead, you let your head hang low, eyes transfixed to the mess of blood smears and petals in your lap. “Me laying prettily in bed and coughing a bit occasionally? This isn’t a movie, Obito.”
“I’m very much aware of that, thank you very much.” His low grunt as he kneeled down beside your armchair hit the side of your face. “Now, let’s talk.”
“Talk about what?”
“Talk about this here,” he pointed at the mess in your lap, “and about this.” He gestured vaguely into the space between the two of you. “You know? The important stuff.”
“As eloquent as always.”
The hand finally slipped from your shoulder to your forearm. You watched with bated breath how Obito picked one petal up, inspecting the delicate yet wet flower, while his forearm rested against yours.
“No,” you weakly swatted at his hand, trying to make him lose his grip on the petal, “it’s disgusting. Don’t touch that.”
But he didn’t let go, just continued to study the petal like it was the most interesting thing in the world. “What is this? Roses?”
“I don’t know.”
“Maybe tulips.”
“I don’t know,” you echoed, “and it doesn’t matter. It’s killing me slowly. That’s all I need to know.”
He hummed under his breath. Another few seconds passed, in which he studied the petal to the very last detail. Turning and twisting it, not caring about the mix of blood and saliva on his fingertips. Then, and you could only feel it, he looked at the side of your face. “You really didn’t want to tell me about this, huh?”
“Not really, no.”
“Nearly fooled me there, not going to lie.”
With a deep, rattling cough, you leaned back into the armchair and closed your eyes. Less possibility to meet him, after all. “That was the point of it. Plus, the surgery made it easier.”
“Your supposed appendix removal?”
“That one.”
“Well, they removed something, alright.” You heard and felt how he shifted around, adjusting his kneel the tiniest bit. “And then… what happened then?”
“What am I supposed to say?” Still with your eyes closed, you shrugged. “That I was fine afterwards? That I didn’t care about anything? Or that the first time I saw you again after my surgery, it felt like someone tried to rip out my heart and burned through my bones?”
Silence. Finally, some silence. Except for your labored breathing as well as the occasional cough, nothing was said inside the living room. That was for the best, probably.
“I’m sorry.”
You certainly didn’t expect an apology. Not like this, not in this tone, all pained and tense and sounding like he was about to cry. Your eyes fluttered open, and you were so tempted to take a quick peek. But you didn’t, just continued to stare at the ceiling as his fingers trailed the inside of your forearm.
“I’m sorry for… making you suffer. You, out of all people, don’t deserve this. I never… I never wanted to hurt you.”
“This sounds awfully familiar to me.”
“I know. And get used to it. This won’t be the last apology for the night.”
Before you realized what he meant with that, Obito sighed. Another shift of his body and movements around your legs told you that he was now kneeling right in front of you, looking up into your face like a sinner would look up at a statue of a god.
“Look at me. Please”, he begged.
You just shook your head. No, absolutely not. If you looked at Obito, right into his dark eyes, you would succumb to the emotions which had only grown and festered in your chest. There was no way in hell you would look him in the eyes, not when…
“Please,” he asked again, “I just want to see you.”
Fuck. Still, you hesitated. What if the flower would suddenly grow out of your mouth when you looked at him? Would you look Obito in the eyes, only to die a split second afterwards? Or would you continue to suffer until death finally claimed you?
But nothing of that happened when you finally dared to lower your head so far you met his eyes. There was just blissful peace in your heart, enough so to let his voice filter into your brain and not recognize any of his words for what they were.
“I’m a terrible person. A bad friend, a bad listener, just a bad person all around. But with you…” He swallowed so loudly even you could hear it over the rustling of your own breath. How he kneeled there in front of you, with his dark eyes shining like pearls and with his hands tenderly threading your fingers together… You didn’t dare to hope up until now. And yet.
“With you,” he continued, and to your surprise, you noticed a small tear glimmering in the corners of his eyes, “I can’t bear to look at myself anymore when I see you now like this. To know that I’m at fault and for not even seeing what I did to you…”
“It’s not…”
“It is,” he gently chastised, “it is completely my fault. I should have been there for you, but was so self-centered that I couldn’t look past my own insignificant struggles. You told me so many times that I shouldn’t bother you with my problems, and yet I still burdened you.”
“Obito, that wasn’t-!”
“No. It was shitty. Do not excuse my actions when I need to take full responsibility for them.”
You could only blink at that. Sure, Obito tended to say those things a lot, apologizing and yet going on with the same old behavior the next day, but this time… This time, you saw the raw pain in his eyes as he kneeled there in front of you. Pain and regret and doubt. So, so much doubt. In himself, the word, but not in you, because as he continued, there was a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I realized something important over the last months. Even before finding out about your Hanahaki. Thanks for washing my head, by the way. That kick-started everything for me. That I want to better myself, become a better human being for you. And for once, I mean it. I’m seeing a therapist now to deal with my attention issues, to learn to be… just better.” The first tear rolled down his cheek, quickly followed by another one. But Obito didn’t seem to notice, just continued to talk with an intensity you had never witnessed on him. “Seeing you cough up those petals… terrified me. I thought I had all the time in the world, but this shit happened and… yeah. And I don’t care that your emotions might not be fully there, after your first surgery. I still want… Want to see all of you, all the time.”
“Obito, you’re…” Leaning forward, you touched his right cheek, right where one of his tears had rolled down. “You’re crying.”
“I am, huh?” Another, wet smile flashed over his face. “That’s nothing. Just showing how much I… how much you mean to me.”
“Mean to you? I don’t understand…”
“I hope you will. And I hope I’m not too much of a chicken to suddenly back out now.” His chuckle was muffled in the sleeve of his jacket as he wiped some of his tears away. But there were new ones already glistening in the corners of his eyes when he continued, eyes full of… adoration and fascination as they got lost in your features. “I just… I swear, I prepared a whole speech, but I completely forgot about it. You have to trust me that it was a fantastic speech, full of hyperboles and metaphors and… other fancy stuff. But now, seeing you… my brain is empty.”
“Definitely not something new.” A small smile flashed over your face. Leaning further in, you could feel something swell in your chest, as your brain finally caught up with his words and the meaning behind them. You flattened your hand against his cheek, noting the familiar rifts and swells of his scars pressing against your palm. “But I’m definitely willing to listen to that awesome speech.”
At that, Obito brightened up. “Really?”
“Yeah. Some other time, though.”
“Some other… oh right.” You just had to cough weakly once to remind him of the situation you were in. Obito suddenly straightened out, with your hands clutched in his, and his dark eyes intently set on you, and only you. His face was barely a few inches apart, enough to darken some of his features, but not enough to totally obscure them.
You expected him to say more and clear out the last bits of confusion surrounding his behavior, but like always, Obito didn’t do what was expected of him. Suddenly, you found his lips on yours, all chapped, insistent yet unbearably gentle. The kiss didn’t last longer than a few seconds, and yet. Yet, there were butterflies in your stomach, fluttering and tingling and making your entire body feel lighter than air.
“With you,” he murmured, lips wet and salty from his tears, “with you, I’m not… I’m not as terrible anymore. I see you and the sun is shining a bit brighter, and I want to make it shine, so you will smile. Want to be kinder, smarter, more attentive. I want to be better, I want to become better for you.” He swallowed, with the tip of his nose rubbing against yours with that little motion. “I love you.”
You didn’t really need to hear those words anymore. His entire improvised speech had led up to this confession, but it was still great to be sure. To know for certain what was up. Instinctively, you kissed him again, a silent reassurance that his words were accepted. Only for you to break out into a cough, all saliva and more petals filling your mouth.
Sure, you had read some texts about how Hanahaki was cured when the object of the previously unrequited affection confessed their honest and true feelings. Though, you completely pushed that information out of your mind, as it had never occurred to you that Obito would be able to love you like you loved him.
Now, with the flower which had thrived in your lungs suddenly wilting away and wanting out yesterday, all of that repressed information came back. But there was no time to warn Obito, who was still kneeling right in front of you, way too close and right in the splash zone. The first cough came with a wad of petals, all of them connected by saliva. You spat them right at him, and Obito had no time to evade. There was no time to apologize, either, as a new wave of petals and some roots forced its way up your throat. It hurt, hurt so much, and tears flowed down your face, brought forth by the raw feeling of an entire fucking flower being rejected by your body.
It wasn’t pretty. It wasn’t nice. Just as invasive as the sickness itself, the flower wouldn’t free itself quietly, and you were merely along for the ride. It felt like vomiting, only with something hard and scratchy coming out of your mouth, while you tried to simply breathe around more petals, some blood and spittle.
Only in the back of your mind, you were aware of Obito. Of his hands on your back, patting and trying to soothe you. Him trying to handle all the petals falling out of your mouth, and failing spectacularly. And his words; his words, muffled in your hair as he tried to hug and support you through this mess.
Thankfully, your brain had some mercy on you. Maybe you blacked out, or maybe your brain forcefully made you forget how coughing up the massive stem felt like, but when you again came to your senses, there was a bloodstained white tulip in your lap, with Obito fussing over you like a worried mother hen.
“Oh, fuck… Fuck, that was… Do you hear me? Is everything alright? Are you alright now?”
A quick kiss to your cheek, to your forehead, his nose nuzzling into the crown of your head for just a split second, and then, a kiss to your bloody lips followed. “Please, fuck. Please, don’t die. Don’t die when I just realized how much you truly mean to me. Please, (Y/N)... Oh fuck, please…” Another kiss pressed to your lips, interrupted by his panicked mumbles and a weak cough which produced another, smaller wave of petals. “Can’t let you… So blind, so dumb… Don’t die on me, I wouldn’t-!”
“I’m not dying anymore,” you croaked, “though at the moment, I would prefer that. My throat is killing me.” You blinked a few times, trying to clear the rest of the tears, but only a wipe with the already dirty sleeves of Obito’s jacket managed to clear your vision. And you groaned when you spotted the mess you made, all over your own lap as well as Obito’s chest.
“Shit, I’m so sorry. This is… this is such a disgusting mess, I’m so sorry.”
“Oh, no worries. This is nothing,” his cheeky grin was still visible in the darkness of the late night, “and you definitely have to do more to get rid of me. A lot more.”
“This is not a joke,” a weak smile graced your lips as you pointed at the huge and root-rich tulip in your lap, “and this stupid thing smells not as good as the flowers in the shop.”
“Yeah…” He really leaned over your lap to smell the flower, only to flinch backwards. “Yeah, that stinks. I was thinking for a moment about keeping it as a reminder for myself to not fuck up again, but the scent is unbearable.”
“Keeping it?” Still as weak as you were, you swatted at him. “You’re insane. Nobody would want to keep a Hanahaki-flower.”
“I mean, maybe… maybe there’s some way to preserve part of it, I don’t know…”
“Oh gods, no. You’re actually considering it. Please, stuff that thing back into me, so you don’t have the chance to get your hands on it.”
You attempted to indeed grab the flower, but before you could even move a single muscle in your hands, Obito was there. His hands caught yours, with your fingers interlacing. Such a simple touch, and yet it made your heart race, because you knew now that there were true feelings standing behind that gesture.
“I wouldn’t want you to swallow that thing again,” he said, still ignoring the mess of your surroundings, “it hurt you too much. No, this…” And without a hint of hesitation, he picked the tulip, the proof of your long not answered feelings for him, up and walked off with it. Turning your head, you watched how he vanished in the kitchen, rummaged around, only to return with a triumphant expression on his face.
“There,” he said,” all thrown out and taken care of. No worries about creepy framed white tulips, I swear.”
“Good. Because if I see just one dumb white tulip in my life ever again…”
“I get it, I get it.” With a sigh, he dropped onto the couch right across your armchair. Strange. Not even a few hours ago, Anko sat there on nearly the exact same spot, barely moving and sweating like a pig in her thick clothes. Now, there was Obito, sweating as well, but now also with some of your blood and saliva mixed into his dark clothes. Only now, you noticed the state of him: wearing a set of pajamas you had once gifted him for Christmas. Now it was all ruined, the pretty shade of sky-blue speckled with dark red spots, even some wayward white petals were still stuck to the fabric.
He noticed your look. He followed your gaze, only to groan at the discoloration. “Aah, dammit. This was my favorite set.”
“Really?”
“Yeah? Where did you find it? I have to get it again now.”
“Let’s see if we get the blood out first, alright?”
A smile flashed over his face. “Alright. But first…” He patted the spot on the couch beside him. “Come over here.”
When you moved out of your armchair, you breathed in deeply for the first time in ages. Free of any petals and roots, with your throat still sore and your knees still a bit weak, you stood up and finally fell into Obito’s arms, like you had dreamed so many times.
“Hey,” he muttered and kissed your forehead.
“Hey,” you whispered back. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” Another kiss to your forehead and more peppering down your temple, cheek and jaw. “But now, try to sleep for a bit. I’ll be here.”
“Okay.” Closing your eyes, you cuddled up to Obito. You could hear his heart beat quickly right beneath you as you pressed your head into his chest. He seemed to enjoy himself as well, measured at the deep hum and his arms which wrapped itself around you.
~ X ~
Tsunade didn’t seem too surprised at seeing you completely cough-free and Obito being in your flat when you opened the door for her. She probably knew the deal already; having seen lots of last-minute confessions and spontaneous recoveries from Hanahaki. She only raised her eyebrows at your sleeping clothes, which were only hastily cleaned from all the spittle, blood and leftover petals.
“We’re still going to do a check-up,” she said and pushed past you, a bag with her utensils dangling from her shoulder, “and we will talk about aftercare. This isn’t over just because of your lover finally getting his head out of his ass.”
“I’m present, you know?” Obito exclaimed. He was on his knees and tried to clean the armchair which had suffered in the earlier incident. Armed with paper towels, lemon slices as well as carbonated water, he kneeled there and pouted up to Tsunade, who just dumped her bag onto the couch.
“And the only reason why you’re still present is, that you can help her,” the woman gestured towards you, “with going through the necessary steps to recover properly. As you can imagine, she has been a rather troublesome patient.”
Things weren’t perfect. There would still be problems ahead of you, including your emotional state being completely out of place now, with Obito still doing some things which were out of line and having to apologize, with both of you misunderstanding each other like any couple sometimes did.
But it was alright. It would be alright. Because you two were on the same page now, and would work together on each other to become better versions of yourself. For each other.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
The newly awakened Hanahaki grows more and more the more time you spent with Obito.
~ X ~
Hello there! Welcome back! :D
I'm glad that I finally got this chapter out ^^ Thank you all so much for your lovely comments and the support, I'm so glad to be finally able to wrap this fic up in a timely manner.
I hope you guys enjoy this chapter. See you all for the next and last one soon! :D
~ X ~
The sickness didn’t move as fast as last time. Maybe it was the muted state of your returned feelings hindering Hanahaki from advancing quicker, and you were grateful for that. It meant more time; more time you could spend with Obito without asking yourself when the dreaded moment would come: the moment when you would cough up the first petal, when you would know for certain that it was Hanahaki once more.
And it took nearly five months.
It was five months of suppressing the cough whenever Obito was close enough to touch you… until the very first flower petal emerged. It was in the middle of a dinner with Anko, Iruka and Kakashi in a busy restaurant. You felt the petal creeping up your throat, quietly got up and walked over to the toilet. Only when you were locked into one of the stalls, you allowed the cough to break through your calm demeanor. Everything hurt: your throat, your lungs, your heart, but then the petal fell out of your mouth and into the palm of your hand.
You had wished that it wouldn’t come to this. Still, despite your heart still aching at the realness of the situation, of your fears being true, despite your very situation, you merely dropped the single, bright—red petal into the porcelain bowl of the toilet and watched how it sank to the very bottom. Only then, you flushed and unlocked the stall to wash your hands and return to your friends.
Only to be stopped by Anko, with her arms crossed over her chest and a stern, even pissed look on her face.
“You’re hiding something,” she growled.
You brushed past her to wash your hands. Even though there was some anxiety trembling deep inside your chest, your hands were calm as you turned the tap on. “I’m not.”
“Don’t you dare fucking lie to me!”
“I’m not.”
“You are,” the woman growled like an enraged lioness, “I can smell it on you!”
“Must be quite some sense of smell you have. Though, I ask you to please not assume things just because,” you turned around, the wet and trembling hands secured on the white porcelain of the sink, “you think I’m hiding something. I’m not. How could I?”
“Being without emotions turns even the worst liars into blank slates,” Anko hissed. “But you can’t fool me. You can’t fucking fool me and tell me you don’t have…”
“What?” Turning away, unable to face the wrath of your… of your best friend while reaching over to dry your hands with one of the cheap paper towels. The paper easily ripped between your fingers as you pulled at the suspenser and you were only able to earn some ripped pieces which you had to dry your hands with. “What do I have?”
“You know what I mean!”
“I don’t.”
“Playing dumb won’t make it vanish.”
“What exactly?” Out of morbid curiosity, you wanted Anko to say it. Wanted her to utter her true suspicion out loud, calling the reality into the dingy bathroom of his restaurant, and call you out on your lie. No idea why, but the urge was there. “What exactly am I hiding? Say it out loud.”
Anko knew the game you were playing. Deep down, she recognized it and in the way her look hardened, you knew she would play along. “Your Hanahaki flared up again. You just choked up some petals. You met Obito and fell in love with him, again!”
“That,” with a long sigh, you threw the ripped apart paper towels into the trash bin, “is true. Can’t deny that.”
Steps echoed between the dirty-white bathroom walls and Anko’s rough hand on your shoulder tugged you around. “What the fuck, (Y/N)? What the fuck? You had strict orders from Tsunade, and you had to go against them to fucking catch it again! Why do you have to make this stupid mistake of falling in love with him twice?”
“I don’t know,” you answered truthfully, “I really don’t know.”
“Then why…?”
“I had to, Anko.” Suddenly feeling exhausted, you slumped back against the sink and smiled at her. Tried to smile, but you knew that your smile was worth nothing. “I just… had to. Meeting up with him, talking to him. The moment I saw him again in front of Kakashi’s flat…” One hand rose to rub over your forehead. “Before my world was… hollow. Scooped out, by a full spoon. When I saw him again, the pain was immeasurable, but… my world wasn’t… empty anymore. There was… something. And we met again, accidentally. I didn’t seek him out, I swear. It was…”
“An accident.” At least Anko didn’t sound angry anymore. Just tensed, which was possibly even worse. “An unfortunate accident.”
“At the start, yes.”
“And then?”
“Then…” you breathed in, tried to think and breathed out, “I thought nothing happened. That I was over him, that I was over Hanahaki and I continued. Because I felt… something. Just something when I was with him.”
“Because when you felt something, only then you realized how empty you truly were.”
“Yes.” At least, Anko understood. The last bits of frustration and anger at you faded away, giving way to hopeless resignation. Your friend sighed as well, the sound echoing between the walls, then leaned against the other sink, arms crossed over her chest and her usual brown trench coat fluttering around her.
The sudden realization popped unwanted into your head. Anko must feel something. Anything. Maybe small sparks like you did, maybe just the occasional flicker of a now foreign, forgotten emotion. Or maybe something entirely else. She couldn’t fake it the entire time, not when the anger at your silence burned so brightly in her eyes.
“You also feel something,” you stated.
Beside you, the woman nodded. Slowly, like a puppet with its strings cut, before shaking her head. “I don’t know. Sometimes, I think it’s… something. Just… Yeah. I guess so.”
“Met your trigger person sometime?”
“Never again after I had my surgery.”
“Mhm…”
“Maybe time. Maybe, every Hanahaki-survivor regains some kind of emotional afterimage or phantoms back. Who knows? It’s such a mysterious disease, after all.”
“Indeed.”
“But this isn’t about me. This is about the shitshow you’re pulling, deliberately going against doctor’s orders. You know they can’t cut you open a second time.”
Just as slowly as Anko, you nodded. “I know. At least, it’s unlikely they will manage to extract it completely.”
“So… You made up your mind?”
You realized what she was truly asking when you turned your head to look into her eyes. Anko challenged you, her cold, hard eyes unusually soft and worrying, like you had never seen her before. Her hands were hidden in the pockets of her coat, but you truly believed that she had balled them into fists, her fingernails digging into the palm and soft skin. It was a question you had heard her ask before, to people who were still suffering from Hanahaki and stood in front of a difficult choice: confess or keep silent.
“I did,” you answered, knowing full well what she actually meant, “and until that point, I want to spend as much time as I can with him.”
Anko nodded once more. “Fine. But don’t come crying to me.”
“I won’t.”
“Alright.” No soft, fluffy words and no sorry feelings. Anko was just like that, brash and straightforward, and you appreciated her character even more so as you watched her leave the bathroom quickly, also knowing that despite her usual emotionless state, that she had to wipe away one lonely tear from the corner of her eyes before rejoining your friends at the table.
It was true. You accepted the inevitable outcome of this mess you got yourself into. What else was there left to do? Obito still mourned his relationship with Rin like it had just been yesterday they broke up, despite the days passing without remorse. Day for day, he stopped by your apartment and day for day, you listened to him ramble about this and that. All of his worries, his insecurities, his fears of the future. He would die alone, who else would love him, he was a loser without any perspectives in life…
And no matter how many times you told him that all of that wasn’t true, it just wouldn’t stop.
~ X ~
“And you know…” Obito sighed for the fourth time in one minute. “I just think I will die all alone, with just 12 cats around me who will slowly eat away at my corpse.”
At his dramatics, you merely raised your eyebrows as you sipped your midnight tea. “I would find you before that happens. Your hypothetical cats don’t have to eat you.”
“Still, my point stands.” He was pouting. In the weak orange light of the nearby lamp, you watched how he dramatically flailed around on his favorite spot on your couch, legs covered with a fuzzy blanket. His open hoodie revealed a sweaty tank top that was a little bit too tight. You knew because Obito’s arms flew up and down with his exaggerated motions, revealing more than once during his whining how much the summer still affected him. Why he was insisting on the blanket and hoodie, you had no idea.
A little break in his whining and you took your chance. “Why aren’t you getting more comfortable?”
Suddenly, Obito stopped all movement, eyes blinking owlishly. “Huh?”
“You’re sweating like crazy. Take off your jacket or something. I’m starting to feel hot as well just looking at you.”
Any other day, Obito would’ve happily thrown off his jacket. Hell, he probably would’ve thrown it into your direction, joking that you would probably look better in his hoodie too, but not today. Instead of doing a number of things, the man froze, before slowly shaking his head while trying to avoid looking into your face.
“Naaaah,” he drawled out, “I think… uhm, I think I keep it that way, thanks.”
“Why? You’re sweating like crazy.”
“I’m fine, I’m fine.”
That kind of evasive behavior was strange. Obito maybe was blind and a bit slow sometimes, but never this evasive, especially not with you. And he never hesitated to get comfortable before. Hell, he hated being sweaty!
“Just throw off your jacket, Obito.” Rolling your eyes, you settled back into your armchair, tugging your legs close and sipping at your tea once more. “If you’re really shy in my presence, then I will even look away until you’re decent again.”
That caused him to blush even harder. “(Y/N)! You can’t just… You can’t just say that!”
“Why not?”
“Because… Because we’re friends?”
“That literally makes no sense,” rolling your eyes, you shook your head, “but please. Whatever floats your boat.”
If Obito wanted to act like a child, well, then you certainly wouldn’t stop him. Still sipping at your tea, you half-heartedly listened to his weak grumbling before your friend started to carefully maneuver out of his hoodie.
“Was that so hard?” you asked after he carefully folded his jacket and placed it onto the nearest armrest, “Why again did you struggle so much with that?”
Only when Obito leaned back into the couch, arms crossed in front of his chest and one hand protectively wrapped over the scarred one, you noticed two important details. One, his arms were a bit thicker, a bit more muscular, a bit more defined. Second, the hand wrapped around his scarred forearm trembled ever so faintly and the longer you stared, the more Obito seemed to withdraw from you and your eyes.
“Obito…” you started, suspicious of the entire situation, “did you… work out?”
A pause, then he nodded. Quick and sharp motions, but he nodded.
“And you’re hugging yourself because…?”
“Ah, nothing.”
“You have to lie better than that to fool me.”
“It’s nothing, I tell you.”
“Doesn’t seem like nothing to me.”
Why was he avoiding you still? It just didn’t make any sense. A tinge of worry started to blossom deep down in your stomach as you continued to watch him, how he wiggled on the sofa, fidgeted around, tried not to meet your eyes. What was going on here?
“She didn’t like them,” he finally blurted out when the silence grew heavier and heavier, “Rin. She… She didn’t like my scars.”
“So…?”
“I wore long clothing. All the time.” A half-hearted smile thrown into your direction, then his eyes dropped again to the ground. “It wasn’t that bad.”
“It is,” you softly objected, “That is pretty bad, Obito. Rin was your girlfriend and was supposed to love all of you. Not just the part which is nice to look at.”
“Well, she is kind of right.” Obito laughed, but it wasn’t his usual cheerful laugh, the one which could lighten up an entire room. Now, his laughter was stifled, not as loud, not as vibrant, and definitely not as powerful as before. And you had a distinct feeling why he was stifling himself so much.
That couldn’t be it. After all those months of listening to Obito ramble about Rin, her beauty and kindness and whatever, she managed to suppress parts of his personality. Maybe not even out of malicious intent, but him giving in to be liked by her even more. Changing himself to be loved, just for her.
Your heart grew heavy and a single petal came crawling up your throat. Only barely, you muffled the cough in your hand before swallowing it down, then looked again at Obito, who was staring at you with the same look in his eyes you imagined sad, kicked puppies to have when they were thrown out of the car into the next ditch. “Oh, Obito.”
Blinking rapidly, he nodded. “I know.”
“You’re fine, just the way you are. Do not change for anyone in a relationship.”
“I know, I know.” He still sat there, all curled up and arms slung around him. All alone on that wide couch.
There was only one choice. Moving out of your armchair, you walked over and gestured towards him as Obito looked up to you with his puppy-dog eyes. “Scoot over. I will not ask twice.”
“But—!”
“I will not,” one of your feet nudged against his, “ask twice. Move your ass.”
Finally, he did and you were already rewarded with a small ray of light flashing over his hopeless, dejected expression. That still wasn’t enough, however, so as you slipped into the small space Obito made for you, your arms reached over and wrapped themselves around his shoulders, pulling him into your chest.
Thankfully, he didn’t shy away from your touch. Like a toy, he merely went pliant, closed his eyes and huffed as his forehead bumped into your own shoulder, before weakly responding to your hug with a loose one of his own. His arms forced themselves into the space in your back and over your stomach, dragging himself closer to your body and searching for more contact. Even though it was way too warm to be so close together like this, you willingly accepted the uncomfortable feeling of two sweaty bodies tightly fitted against each other—as Obito needed comfort.
One hand of yours flew up and stroked over the back of his neck. Small curls of his dark hair tickled the palm of your hand, sweat staining your skin. His breath brushing over your shoulder was the only stream of cool air in the room as you continued to stroke up and down his neck, sometimes with your entire hand, sometimes merely with the tips of your fingers.
You had no idea for how long you two stayed like this. Obito needed the comfort. You enjoyed the closeness. A win-win situation. Closing your eyes, you sighed just when Obito cleared his throat. You could feel the sound more than hear it because of the sheer proximity.
“Thank you, (Y/N).” Another rumble deep in his chest rummaged through his body. “You’re… you’re the best friend someone could wish for.”
Another petal creeped up, but again, you managed to suppress the cough and swallow the traitorous sign of your disease before anything could show. “Hey, that’s what friends are there for, right?”
“No.” Still snuggled into your shoulder, he shook his head. “No, not many friends would go that far for a bum like me.”
“You’re not a bum.”
“I am. A bum, a bad friend, depressing to be around even. Unable to change…”
“Then change that,” you whispered, “change being unable to change. And go from there.”
“It’s not that easy,” he mumbled back, “it’s not that easy to change.”
“Nobody said that. But you can start small. Do something unexpected to yourself, something different. Something you would’ve never ever imagined you would do. And then,” you smiled in the weak light, “you can become the best version of yourself. The version I see already in you.”
More silence followed. Neither of you moved, just stayed huddled together on the couch; you stroked over the back of his neck and fingers combing through the wisps of sticky hair, while Obito buried his face harder and harder into the curve of your shoulder.
The closeness counted. The comfort. The security of knowing you would always be there.
Unfortunately, I won’t always be there.
But you didn’t have the heart to tell him that. Especially that it was the second time you made that particular mistake of falling in love with him.
~ X ~
Honestly, you didn’t expect Obito to actually change. Way too many times he had promised to do just that; to change drastically, but never did. After the long hug, the friendly cuddling and the small reassurances, he in fact did change.
Meeting him became way more frequent. Before, you maybe met up once or twice a week. Now, Obito amped it up to three or four times, sometimes even stopping by every evening on all seven days. Every time, he carried a small gift with him. Sometimes a small potted plant, sometimes a small snack he knew you would like. Two times, he dropped small bags with books in your lap, which he knew you wanted to read. Bath bombs, little self-care items after you absentmindedly mentioned you were stressed at work, little silly trinkets in the form of key chain accessories, stickers or bookmarks. Plus, at least once a week, he would come to your workplace and pick you up for lunch break.
That wasn’t everything though. You could read it in the way his nose scrunched up, in the way he stopped himself when he was about to ramble for another five minutes about one of his hobbies, and in the way he would ask you more often how your day had been.
“You did it,” you finally said over a bowl of ramen, sitting in a booth in “Ichiraku’s." “You changed a lot over the last weeks.”
“Aah,” he waved you off, “it’s not that much.”
“And still, I see your efforts. I think it’s good.”
Strangely enough, Obito didn’t answer, just mumbled something incomprehensible and slurped another mouthful of noodles and soup. Fine, if he didn’t want to talk about it, then he didn’t have to. Silently, you continued to eat your own noodles while in the back of your head, you waited for him to come back with something. Just anything, as Obito wasn’t someone to let something like this just stand in the room—!
“It’s all thanks to you,” he grunted around another bite of noodles, “and I feel… better. Think I can soon face Kakashi, Iruka and Anko again.”
“You’re not talking with them at the moment?”
“No. As in, they didn’t answer my calls a few weeks back when Rin broke up with me. Only Anko replied and she sent me a middle finger emoji.”
For a second, you closed your eyes. Still, your friends were loyal to you, but that had to stop. When you were dead, Obito would need all the support he could get and with Rin gone, your friends would need to help out, even if they didn't want to. You made that a point on your mental checklist before returning again to reality.
“I’m sure they will come around,” you said, before reaching over and laying one hand on top of his, “don’t worry too much. They will see what I see, promise.”
Your hand closed around his, laying over the back of his hand and fingers curling into his palm. Instantly, his fingers curled over yours, answering the weak squeeze you gifted your friend.
“It will be alright,” you murmured, watching as he closed his eyes and nodded weakly alongside your words, “everything will be alright in the end.”
It had to be. Obito would mourn your death, but surrounded by the friends he knew for years, he would be able to overcome his sadness soon. You were sure of it. Again, you squeezed his hand before letting go. Tried to, as Obito’s fingers clamped around yours, denying you from pulling away.
A weak smile flashed over your lips. “Obito? I want to eat my ramen.”
“Your fault for grabbing my hand.” When you looked into his unusually serious face, your stomach lurched upward and your heart… your heart jumped the tiniest bit. Dark, meaningful eyes, strong nose, sharp jawline… Obito didn’t consider himself handsome, but you would always, anytime of the day, deny that. Sure, with his scars he wasn’t conventionally attractive, but he had grown into his rugged appearance. With the new muscles gained through regular physical exercise, the few inches of hair hanging a bit lower and curling around his ears, and the new shadow in his eyes due to the sadness of the broken relationship with Rin gave Obito more depth than before. The depth he had so desperately needed to grow up.
“Right.” With a weary yet satisfied sigh, you gave up your futile struggle and allowed him to keep holding your hand, and as you picked up the chopsticks once more, you couldn’t help but grin with the fluttering of your stomach at the sweet touch. “Go on, steal my hand. Fine by me.”
“Good.” There was no hesitation in his voice, and strangely enough, that made your heart pound even louder. “Because I won’t let go of you anymore.”
~ X ~
When you spoke to your circle of friends, they were more than a bit hesitant. Of course, you didn’t mention your impending death to them, merely said that Obito was suffering enough already and needed some of his friends to help him. That he had changed, significantly so, and that he was willing to make amends. Only Anko knew and she kept on watching with observant eyes how you set up your friend circle to care for Obito when you wouldn’t be able to do so any longer.
To make a point, the next meeting would happen in Obito’s flat. He looked nervous when you arrived, opening the door with a grand smile which instantly deflated when he saw you. Not because he was disappointed to see you, but because the grin instantly made space for worry and anxiety. “Thank fuck you’re the first. I wouldn’t know what I would’ve done if it was that Anko showed up.”
“You would have been prepared to die, obviously.” Not waiting, you stepped inside and kicked off your shoes. They landed in their usual spot, right between Obito’s sneakers and a pair of worn-out flip-flops. “Because Anko surely would have killed you, if with words or actions.”
“Thank gods then you’re here first.” He wrung his hands together, an untypical sign of his nervousness. “And I think I put too much salt into my bread? Can you try it, please?”
“With pleasure.” You knew the layout of his flat by heart, knew the door led into a small, chaotic but clean kitchen, and knew the kitchen itself well enough to open a single cabinet to find the bread knife and a fitting wooden board to place the bread on.
“What did you do to it?” You mused as you opened the oven to spot the perfectly fine, delicious smelling bread. “Looks like you tortured it before burning the poor thing alive.”
“What? It burned?” Obito was by your side in an instance, but when he saw your grin and the perfect, unmarred crust, his panic dissolved into a deadpan expression which made you grin. “Ha-ha, really funny. You’re mean to me.”
“Just because I’m jealous of your bread-baking skills.” And it was true. When you cut off a tiny piece of the bread, you already spotted the bits of cheese and ham embedded into it. Like usual, Obito did some magic to bake one of the most delicious breads you ever tasted and you let him know with a single satisfied moan. “Gods, this is divine. Really, it’s great. Don’t worry.”
“Good.” You turned your head to smile at him, still weakly chewing at the next bite, as you spotted this strange expression again on his face. Somehow focused, somehow blank, but eyes settled onto your features. Like he was trying to commit your face to his memory forever. From any other person, that stare would be annoying. From Obito though, it made your heart pound a little bit harder.
Scratch that, a lot harder.
“Do I have something on my face?” you joked. “Some cheese? A crumb of ham? What?”
That seemed to break him out of his stupor. A short, confused smile flashed over his face, only for Obito to turn around and shake his head.
“No, there’s… nothing. Nothing, sorry.” The doorbell rang and he weaseled out, leaving you behind beside the wide open oven with the bread resting on the rack. What was lately wrong with Obito? He always seemed to stare holes into the air or stare at your face in the strangest moments. Did he notice something? At the thought of Obito finding out about your renewed sickness, the light smile on your face died. You couldn’t let that happen. Right until the very end, Obito shouldn’t find out what was happening to you again, because he would tear himself apart with guilt.
From the entrance, you could hear the voices of your other friends. They arrived in a bigger group apparently. Time to greet them. Quickly, you pulled the bread out of the oven and turned it off before wiping your hands at a nearby towel and walking out to greet them too. The mystery of Obito’s stares could be solved later on. The evening with your friends was way more important.
Anko was the first to spot you just as she was busy peeling off her sandy-brown trench coat. Her face lit up and she threw her coat into Obito’s arms only to jump and hug you tight; so tight in fact you feared for your ribs.
“(Y/N)! You’re looking great!” For anyone else, it was merely an overly affectionate greeting from Anko, but for you, it was so much more. Between Hanahaki survivors, between friends with a secret, between the knowledge and helpless acceptance of the situation, her simple greeting meant so much more.
“Of course, I do.” Your answer came naturally, dropping as easy from your lips as the surely coming flower petal. But not here, not now. Anko laughed weakly, the sound vibrating against your chest, before loosening her hug and stepping backwards. Another secretive, knowing smile was shared, then she stormed past Obito, not even acknowledging his presence.
It was a testament to his guilt that Obito simply hung her coat on a hanger instead of starting to whine about Anko ignoring him. Still, there was a sheen of sadness at her behavior, which was to be expected. Quickly, you stepped closer and touched his elbow just when he had hung the coat into the row of jackets and coats Obito possessed himself.
“She will come around,” you murmured, knowing Kakashi and Iruka were listening, “she just needs time.”
He nodded weakly, only for a small smile to flash over his face. “Right. Thanks.”
Obito followed Anko into the living room, which left you alone with Kakashi and Iruka alike. The teacher started, still trying to act like he was heeling off his shoes. “That… doesn’t look like he knows what you have been through.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Does he know that you had…” Iruka jerked his head, the expression suddenly tense and somehow panicked. “Hanahaki?”
He said it like the sickness would sneak up on him too. Like it waited just around the corner, infecting everyone around if the word so much as fell from your lips. If he only knew that you contracted it again, then Iruka maybe would leave the small get-together under some pretense.
“No,” you shook your head, “he doesn’t. And I want to keep it that way. No need to stir the pot any further.”
Still, Iruka’s eyebrows were drawn together in worry. “This isn’t an issue about stirring the pot or anything, but an issue of speaking the truth.”
“He knows enough.”
“Let it be,” Kakashi patted Iruka’s shoulder, who looked like he wanted to argue more, “(Y/N) will handle it her way. And if it involves a little bit of deception to keep Obito as a friend, who will it truly hurt?”
The brunet man snorted, again shaking his head. “Where would we be today if everyone before us had that kind of attitude, Kakashi? Seriously, one day, lying by omission will break your neck. The truth always comes out, you know?”
“No, I don’t,” Kakashi cheerfully retorted, “and before you hold a lecture about morality and such, better go into the living room. It’s awfully quiet in there and who else would lecture Anko better over murdering Obito than you?”
But when you three stepped into the living room of Obito’s flat, there was no murder scene to inspect and no blood to clean up. Instead, Anko excitedly talked to the man, gesturing around with her hands and feet in her usually lively manner. Like nothing ever happened between them, but if one looked closely enough, one would notice the slight tension in Anko’s shoulders or the weak twitch of Obito, every time her hands came a little bit too close for comfort.
Small steps, but important steps forward. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself. Yes, this was good; for Obito, for Anko, as well as for Kakashi and Iruka, who walked around you to scatter over the place, getting comfortable on the couch and armchair.
A beautiful picture of friendship, without you in it. They would need to grow accustomed to it. Soon.
~ X ~
“Thanks for being here,” Obito mumbled when Kakashi let the door fall close, before slumping against the nearest wall. “Oh man, that was stressful.”
His heavy sigh of relief made you smile weakly. “But it went well, and that’s everything that matters.”
“Right, right.” For a few more seconds, Obito continued to slump against his spot at the wall, then straightened himself out. “Okay, okay. I will get to cleaning. Want anything to drink?”
“No, thanks.” You followed him into the living room. The seating area looked exactly like one would imagine after hours and hours of five people sitting together, talking with each other over this and that and all in between. Lots of small plates, glasses, bottles of alcohol standing around the small coffee table, some crumbs of chips and crackers spread over the couch, and the occasional fallen drop of a drink. Obito sighed when he saw the chaos without anything to hinder his gaze. “We’re quite a rowdy bunch, aren’t we?”
“You could say so.” You watched how Obito paused for another long moment, maybe wishing the living room would clean up itself, before nodding to himself and getting down to work, assembling plates and glasses in his hands to carry them into the kitchen. Your sign to jump in and help out.
But just when you wanted to reach towards the table and pick up some glasses, you heard the faint click of a tongue and Obito’s voice echoing over from the kitchen. “Do not touch anything. You sit down and relax. You already did way too much.”
“I didn’t.”
“You did, always serving people when it was my job to do so.”
“But when I was on my way to the kitchen already…?”
Obito stuck his head out of the door, throwing a playful-evil glare into your direction. “You shouldn’t. Now, sit down and be a guest for once, will you?”
Shrugging, you brushed off some crumbs off the couch and dropped into the cushions. “Well, if you insist…”
Still, it felt uncomfortable to just sit there and watch Obito clean up. You tried to chase away that strange emotion, tried to sit still as you watched how the glasses and plates dwindled away, tried to not interfere when he worked around you in brushing off more crumbs off the couch, and tried not to jump up and help when he wiped down the table and put away the last bits of the created mess.
Only when Obito finally came back from the kitchen and dropped into the cushions right by your side, you moved and made some space for him. “Thanks,” he groaned lowly, and let his head fall backwards against the backrest. “That’s always the worst part about hosting. Cleaning up after my friends.”
“I could’ve helped”, you offered, only for him to wave you off again.
“No worries. I’m just whining. I already told you, you already did way too much. Lay back and relax for a while, alright? You deserve it.”
Silence settled over the two of you. Comfortable, easy silence. Nothing more than that, and yet, it meant so much. For a few moments, you dared to close your eyes and enjoy the closeness, familiarity and ease of the situation. Your heart was loudly thumping in your chest and your lungs would soon force you to take a “bathroom break” to throw up some petals, but it would be worth it. Worth it to be this close to Obito and give him some solace before you would be gone.
His hand bumped into your side. Maybe an accident, but you doubted it, as he didn’t sit that close for his touch to accidentally come close enough. Your suspicions were confirmed when his hand again bumped into your side, this time more demanding and poking your side.
You smiled without opening your eyes. “Who dares to disturb my sleep?”
“Me.” More poking, little annoyances which were welcomed. “(Y/N)...”
“Yes?”
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For being here for me.”
His tone wasn’t light anymore. Obito was serious, so serious that you opened your eyes to find the man looking at you. Closer than you expected, but not close enough for your quickly beating heart to the point that it was detrimental. He breathed in, his chest rising, only to let out a flood of words. “You’re always there for me, helping me out, supporting me. It’s… it’s insane if you think about it, that I never noticed that you care so much about me when I basically kicked your feelings the entire time. When you had every right to be angry, you were still there. The more I think about it, the guiltier I feel for not… for being blind.”
“You don’t have to.”
“But I should! And I’m glad my eyes are open now to see how great you are.”
Heat creeped over your neck and face, but you decided to ignore that. He was merely thanking you, no need to roll over and be all happy about it. That was normal. That was alright. Nothing else needed to happen. Obito was your very good friend and you would continue to be good friends until the very end.
When he scooted closer, his flank pressing into yours, you nearly choked at the next petals crawling up your throat. Barely, you muffled your cough in the crook of your elbow, still feeling how Obito nestled up beside you. He had to notice, with the way your body strained to fight against the nasty cough.
“Everything alright?”
“Yeah, yeah.” You waved him off, while also trying to push the few petals crawling up your throat into the small space between teeth and cheek. “Nothing serious, probably just a nasty summer flu.”
“Hm…” It didn’t seem like Obito fully believed you, but he kept quiet about the whole ordeal, and in the moment, you were happy with that outcome. What you couldn’t predict though was him fully closing the hug.
His hands sneaked across your back and stomach, coming only to a rest when they hugged you close to him. His face nestled itself into the crook of your neck, his nose and cheek pressing into your collarbone. Frozen into your place, you could only blink and try not to be too overwhelmed by the sheer sensation of him being so close.
Sure, you two had been friends for a long time and hugs were regular too, but not… not like this. Not this close, not meant to last, just a quick “hello” or “goodbye." It was not like Obito to want to stay close, fluttering from place to place and always straying more towards Rin. But not anymore, apparently. Before you could even attempt to free yourself, his breath hitting the side of your neck made your paralysis complete.
“This…” he sighed again, more warm-cold breath brushing over your skin. “This feels nice.”
Unable to open your mouth, you nodded. Your heart thumbed in your chest, so loud you definitely believed him to be able to hear the steady, quick drum. It was hard, so hard to not move your head to look if this was really happening. If Obito really was leaning against you, hugging your body close, his breath hitting your skin in the calm, rhythmic waves you felt right now ghosting over your neck.
Only after endless minutes, you tried to do… something. You were basically caged by Obito, unable to do much more than lift a hand and pat his arm. Which you promptly did. In your position, it was hard to do, but when your fingers stroked over his forearm crossing your stomach, Obito grumbled deep within his chest. Was he satisfied in some way? Maybe. So, you continued to stroke back and forth, only able to move your wrist around a bit, but Obito snuggled closer and obviously enjoyed the contact to the point he didn’t let go.
It was nice. More than that. This hug was everything you ever wanted and even though it would’ve been great if Obito hugged you with another intent than to show that he was grateful for your presence, you would take it. Fuck, you couldn’t be choosy here. So, over time, you relaxed more and more into it, even allowed yourself to close your eyes again, with your muscles easing up and the tension leaving your body. Even the pesky petals and cough calmed down for a few blissful minutes, allowing you this little reverie from the emotional torture.
A sigh bubbled up, light and breathy. Like an echo, Obito sighed as well, snuggling closer in the process. Just for a little while, you decided, you could stay like this. But soon, you had to get up.
It was way after midnight when you finally walked out of Obito’s apartment. You had no idea for how long you hugged and snuggled, but you didn’t care. You were on cloud nine, nothing less than that despite the nagging feeling in the back of your head that this wouldn’t last.
~ X ~
“He’s getting handsy with you.” Anko’s sharp eyes followed every single one of Obito’s moves as he walked over to the counter of the diner to order desserts. “I don’t like it.”
You ignored the last comment with the practice of a few weeks, while dipping your fries into the small cup of aioli sauce. “I don’t know, he's been hanging all over me since we met up.”
“Yeah.” Anko snorted, leaned back into the dingy booth, her eyes still throwing daggers at Obito’s back. “Something smells fishy in here.”
“I think it’s sweet,” you countered, taking a bite of your fries. Their taste uncomfortably mingled with the habitual smell of flowers constantly permenating your tongue. You grimaced before quickly taking another bite, this time with more aioli sauce. “And it’s not like he does anything bad.”
“Yeah, sure. Because you’re already sick again. Can’t get worse than that, right?”
You nodded, ignoring the thick layer of sarcasm in Anko’s voice. “Exactly. So, I will just enjoy it for as long as it lasts.”
Sitting in the booth of the nearby diner close to your workplace, you spent your lunch break with Obito and Anko. Despite the slightly dirty and worn-down look of the place, they served possibly the best burgers and fries in town, and their cheesecake was a close contender for the best one in Konoha, only surpassed by the cheesecake made by the café you used to frequent a lot with Obito. Before your Hanahaki, before the surgery, before… well, everything.
Again, you shrugged, just before the man returned to the booth and squeezed himself into the seat right next to you. His thigh pressed against yours and his flank was flush with your body. The new normal; after that night at Obito’s flat. Wherever you would go, no matter what, Obito would be so close by your side you sometimes felt like he wanted to crawl into your skin. His hands would brush against yours more often than not when you two walked side by side, and the usual hugs lasted longer and longer, with Obito dragging you closer whenever you tried to escape his octopus-like grip. You definitely weren’t complaining, and yet the sudden change since that night was… strange, to say the least.
Was he that needy for physical contact since he broke up with Rin? Your heart grew heavy at the thought. The possibility of you being the only relief he had to turn to, to feel like he was accepted and held wholeheartedly by someone he could trust…
Pushing your thigh against his, you picked up another fry and dipped it deeply into the sauce, watching how the white cream dripped off the processed potato. “How is your work doing, Anko? Everything alright?”
She snorted, but rolled with your change of topic. “Work is going well. These kids in the dojo don’t know what hits them when I step onto the mattress.”
The fact that Anko called fully-grown men “kids” was one more sign how little her missing emotions affected her. No sign of remorse, just the confident grin of someone who had found their middle, no matter how disturbing that middle was or made them act.
Without a word, Obito raised his arm and draped it across your shoulders. There was no chance to escape and you also wouldn’t have taken it, but you saw how Anko’s eyes squinted and took on an evil glint.
“So…” The other woman leaned back, arms crossed over her chest. “You two, huh?”
Before you could say anything, Obito shrugged. “Us two. Yes.”
“You’re pretty close.”
“Always have been.”
“I meant the new, physical part.”
“Oh.” Again, Obito shrugged, before stuffing some fries into his mouth. “It’s nice.”
“Sure. Nice.” For a moment, Anko continued to glare at the man, only to suddenly drop her act and show a big, evil, mischievous grin. “Heyyyy, I just remembered. Got some tickets for some stupid movie I can’t attend. Two tickets. Do you want them?” Strangely enough, her sugary-sweet tone wasn’t directed at you, but at Obito, topped off by the fakest, most terrifying smile you had ever witnessed on her. Immediately, your stomach plummeted through the ground. She was planning something and you definitely didn’t like it.
Though, Obito didn’t have any preservation-skills or was brave enough to ignore the obvious warning coming from her smile, as he just nodded, answering with a honest smile of his own. “Sure thing! Has been some time since I visited the cinema. Hey, (Y/N), want to come with me tonight?”
You knew Obito fell right into Anko’s trap. Her smile was too vicious, too satisfied, and too cat-like, like someone who had eaten the canary right out of its cage for it to mean anything else. For a short second, your inner need to be with Obito as much as you could battled against the dislike of being played by Anko like a puppet. The former won by a margin, aided by a reassuring squeeze of your shoulder and the way Obito’s mouth crinkled as he waited for your answer.
“Sure,” you heard yourself say, “sounds like fun.”
I’m a weak woman.
~ X ~
The same day, you met with Obito in front of the cinema. Even though you technically knew Anko wasn’t insane enough to come as well, you couldn’t help it and checked your surroundings constantly, to the point even Obito picked up on it.
“What’s the matter?” he mused. “Already searching for a way out?”
“Of course,” you joked weakly, throwing a last glance over your shoulder before concentrating again onto him, “I’m just dying to get out of here.”
The middle of a cinema line wasn’t probably the best place to start with morbid inside jokes only you would get, but you didn’t care too much about that. Obito was way too close, his arm brushing against your shoulder. He was so close you could smell him even over the overbearing smell of popcorn, day-old sweat and cheap deodorant all around.
He was… warm. So warm and comforting you wanted to lean more into him. A dangerous thought. But with the increased physical contact between the two of you lately, it just seemed natural, so you couldn’t bring yourself to do the right thing and shy away. No, right here, in the line inside the cinema, with all the chatter around and the smell of buttery popcorn hanging in the air, it felt… right.
Taking a step forward as the line moved didn’t break the contact of your arms. In fact, it seemed like Obito was even closer, his arm pressing against yours in such an intimate way. His hand brushed against yours, his shoulder comfortably leaning against your body, and when a bunch of rowdy kids ran past the line, giggling and nearly spilling their drinks on the way, Obito automatically stepped into the space between you and the commotion. Such an old-fashioned gesture, but also earnest and natural on his part that you couldn’t do anything else but smile up at him. As the laughter of the kids was swept away, you picked up the conversation again. “Anko was really nice to give us those tickets, right? I hope it’s a good one. Last time, she wanted to drag me into a movie with lots of gore and don’t get me wrong, occasionally that’s good too, but I wasn’t really in the mood for that.”
“Yeah, she has a knack for the more disturbing ones.” Obito shook his head and snorted. “But color me surprised: it’s not the super gorey, bloody, senselessly-brutal one, but the more popular choice with great reviews and lots of jumpscares.”
“Sounds like you did your research.”
“Of course! I had to know what I got myself into!”
You would’ve continued to banter, if not for the advancing of the line. A very stressed-looking young guy with bags beneath his eyes took the tickets Obito handed to him without a sign of emotion, before asking about your choice of snacks.
Obito went all out. “One medium popcorn bag, some nachos would be great too, with cheesy sauce, please… Ah, and some soft drinks. Want anything, (Y/N)?”
“I will pay for myself, thanks.” You were already scrambling through your bag, searching for your money. “Go ahead and order, the poor guy is probably already overwhelmed with all the food.”
But Obito wasn’t easily disheartened. “Go on, order. Today is on me.”
“I couldn’t possibly…”
“Oh, you can. Come on,” he leaned in, a secretive grin on his face, “just rob me in cold blood. Go full out. I don’t mind, because it’s what you deserve, to be treated properly.”
For a long moment, you continued to stare into his dark eyes, ignoring the slight annoyance of the cashier who had to wait for you two to end your discussion, but then nodded weakly. “Fine. I will take all your money, then.”
Obito huffed, before straightening himself out. “Good. Your usual, then? Or some extra stuff?”
“Well, you offered, so… Extra stuff.”
With both of your arms full with snacks and drinks, you wandered into the movie theatre, still chatting away. A nice, relaxed atmosphere, comforting and familiar. It hurt a bit; a deep, unsettling ache you hid behind easy smiles and casual jokes, light like feathers on your tongue. Scooting through the rows and searching for the numbers of your seats in the dim light, you allowed yourself to watch and take in his broad back. The physical exercise did him good. No longer a scrawny teenager, no longer a lanky adult, but fitter, resting in himself. Hopefully, he would keep the exercise up when you were dead.
“Here we are,” suddenly, Obito stopped and turned to look over his shoulder, the same boyish grin on his face you knew for years now, “Damn, Anko paid really well for those!”
Indeed. The seats were right in the middle of the movie theatre, and the row sat a bit higher than the ones before, creating more leg room and a more comfortable sight onto the big screen. Also, the seats were a bit wider, so you didn’t have to squeeze yourself into an abysmal space or worry someone would stumble over your legs if they had to go to the toilet. Anko really spent more money than necessary on those seats.
When Obito stepped aside to drop his packages of snacks into the next seat to strip his light jacket off, you got a good look at the seats and realized with a sudden jump of your heart that those weren’t seats. But a single seat. A love-seat, with no armrest parting the space. Immediately, you felt the blood rush from your face.
A horror movie, already paid seats, Anko paying for a love-seat… The woman planned this. But why? Why would she want to torture you like this?
“Hey, earth to (Y/N)!” Obito settled into the seat, leaving more than enough space for you. “Everything alright? You’re spacing out there.”
“Just asking myself what kind of hot date Anko cancelled on to give up this… seat.” Vaguely, you gestured to the love-seat, still not able to face his look head-on. “Cuddling on here while the gorey, bloody, miserable horror movie plays in the other room? You know she wanted to impress someone desperately.”
Only now, Obito looked at the seat, truly looked like he opened his eyes for the very first time, before looking back up to you with a bashful grin stretching his features. “To be honest, I really didn’t think about that… It is strange that she gave up this seat.”
But he didn’t comment on the true strangeness of the situation: that Anko didn’t even tell you about that special seat and that you were now “forced” to sit like this.
Cuddling was still relatively new, only exhibited in the security of either of your homes. This was out in the open, only protected by the darkness of the cinema, and you would look like a couple in doing this.
By now, the petals just forced their way up your throat, without much of a cough. Used to suddenly tasting plant and iron, you pushed the few petals into the space between teeth and cheek, before carefully sliding into the empty space beside Obito. He was so close. So, so close and the darkness made it even worse. You were so aware of his presence. All of the small motions you didn’t even notice in broad daylight anymore: his elbow brushing over your side as he reached for his snacks, the nudge of his thighs against yours as he settled deeper into the cushions, his breath brushing over your skin as he leaned over to whisper into your ear. “Is this alright with you? We can still go. I’m not that eager to watch a horror movie anyway.”
“It’s fine,” you automatically answered, just as hushed as him, “and maybe I want to see this movie? Desperately so?”
His laugh vibrated in your chest. “Alright, alright. We stay.”
The movie theatre filled up slowly. Even though the movie received high critics, it already ran for a few weeks at the cinema, so not many more people were joining the viewing. Thankfully, the other people apparently paid for other generic seats and like that, you were almost alone in your row and general vicinity. Your muscles relaxed when the lights went out and the ads started to play, and even the occasional late guests quickly went to their seats that were far, far away from your love-seat. Almost like this was a private viewing. Almost like you two were all alone in this wide room. Almost like this was a date, and watching the other few visitors around only underlined that you two looked like a couple on a date-night, even though only two others had invested in some love-seats and were already cuddling rather intimately with each other.
Thankfully, Obito didn’t seem to notice the general atmosphere around the room. He was way too engrossed in the ads and trailers for upcoming movies playing, and already ruffling through his snacks and absentmindedly picking up some popcorn to throw into his mouth.
“Hey, that one looks good!” Suddenly, he poked your side, pulling you back to reality. Like a small child, he pointed at the screen, where the last bits of the trailer were still showing on the screen. “Want to watch it with me when it comes out?”
“Sure…” Just then, the date for the movie was announced and your voice drifted off. Next summer. It was highly unlikely you would make it until then. Sneakily, you coughed into your hand, coming back with some wet, spittle-rich petals, stuffing them quickly into the space between seats. “Yeah, sure. We can watch it together.”
“Nice!” Again, his elbow brushed over your side, a lot less sudden and yet still sending a little jolt down your spine. “I can’t wait! It will be really cool, just like old times!”
“Sssh.” Even though it was just the trailers, you already could feel some people turning around at Obito’s enthusiastic exclamations. They worried he would keep it up over the duration of the movie, which was understandable. “Yeah, just like old times.”
There would be no cinema visits. No revisit of the “good old times”. No meetings late at night.
Don’t live in the future. Live in the moment. Enjoy this as long as it lasts.
You continued to stare at the screen without seeing anything for as long as the trailers ran, not even even the first moments of the movie. Only when Obito squeaked, your attention returned to the big screen, just in time to watch the first victim getting mercilessly slaughtered, accompanied by a high, female-pitched scream. Of course.
Suddenly, you found yourself with an armful of shaking, heaving Obito. His arms wrapped around your neck, body pressing close, whispering hastily into your ear. “Sorry, sorry…”
“Don’t be.” With a low sigh, you adjusted your posture to allow him more access to seek shelter in your arms, all the while your throat constricted around a few more petals. Just like you expected, the movie would be emotional torture for you. Obito used apparently every small jumpscare, even the tiniest ones, to snuggle into you like a small child using their stuffed toy to calm themselves. You doubted he even saw one bit of the fake blood splattering all over the screen with every kill, as his eyes were pressed close and obviously hidden in the crook of your neck.
You resigned to your fate. After all, there was nothing else you can do but let Obito huff into your skin every time he heard the terrible screams and splatters of death and murder. Some of the emotionless state still clouded your mind and your own controlled fear was muted as you continued to watch without even a hitch in your breath.
“How can you be this calm?” Obito whimpered when there was a rare moment of silence in which some exposition about the killers’ powers was squeezed in, “How can you be this unfazed?”
You shrugged weakly, eyes fixated on the screen and yet not seeing one bit of the gore and horror. “I don’t think it’s that shocking, to be honest.”
Obito shuffled, his nose bumping into your jawline. When another puff of air brushed over your collarbone and his words were a bit clearer, you realized that he had turned his head the tiniest bit. “I should be ashamed for being scared, right?”
With a low sigh, you raised one hand and patted his back. “Don’t be. I like you, just the way you are.”
Obito stilled. Then, with another low huff, squeezed his arms around your body to hug you back. Your heart fluttered and for just a moment, you relaxed into his arms. Even dreamed about impossible things for a few minutes. The movie progressed further, right up until the point the killer was in a deadly fight with the last girl of the original group of young, horny young adults (how wonderfully cliché). Suddenly, Obito perked up and even straightened himself out enough to sit properly in the seat, still terribly, wonderfully close and with his mouth close enough to fantasize about your dreams coming to reality.
“I like you too. Just the way you are.”
Above the screams and dramatic music, you nearly didn’t hear him. Then, you tried to wrap your head around what he just said. He liked you. Just like you were. Which…
As a friend. He liked you as a friend.
And nothing else.
For a moment, nothing happened. Then, there was no air. You heaved, choked, pushed Obito off of you. In the back of your mind, you heard him protest and ask what was wrong, but you ignored everything. His questions, the protests of the few people at the noise level, the pain as you stumbled down the stairs and through the exit. The only thing which mattered was the desperate need to breathe. Tears blurred your vision. More shouts in the cinema lobby echoed in your ears, faint and far away yet terribly close. You stumbled forward, pain surging through your lungs like the tide, ebbing away only to return with a vengeance. You couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t do more than gasp for air as you clutched at your shirt and neck.
The light of the streetlamps hit you like a sledgehammer as you finally stumbled outside. Your throat itched, burned, and constricted around a swat of flower petals. Running to a nearby trash bin, you doubled over and wretched the first wave of flower petals into the bin. Your lungs were pulled out of your body, the pain being unimaginable, and with every following wave, you cried silent tears that burned on your face.
It hurt. Hurt so much. But this was the price you had to pay for falling silently in love with Obito for a second time, without him being aware of your feelings. And you had to accept your own personal faults and mistakes for this.
You were dimly aware of the hand on your back and the calming presence by your side. Though, heaving wave after wave of bloody, spit-riddled petals took all your concentration. Your nose stung, tears ran down your face, and your throat kept on spasming around the intruders growing inside your own body.
Only slowly, the waves ebbed away. It took another few minutes to be able to stand up without your throat and lungs protesting against the movement, and when you looked up to Obito, whose eyebrows had furrowed in worry at your antics, you wished it would’ve taken even more time to regain your composure.
“What is…” His eyes flitted to the bottom of the trash bin, and you saw how the surprise flashed over his face when he spotted the bloody petals. “But… (Y/N)...”
“I guess I don’t need to explain anything to you.” Still a bit shaky on your feet, you wiped with the back of your hand over your mouth. A speckle of blood clung to your skin and for just a second, you inspected the translucent pearl a bit closer. “It’s pretty self-explanatory.”
There were actual tears in Obito’s eyes as he looked at you, fully took you in, like he was seeing you for the very first time. “(Y/N)... What…?”
“I will go home now,” you shook your head, avoiding looking into his eyes, “Sorry for ruining this.”
“You didn’t! Wait, (Y/N), just wait for a few minutes, I—!”
“I don’t,” you interrupted him, “wait for anyone. Not at this point. I will go home and stay there for the time being. Have a nice evening.” Without waiting for Obito, you turned and walked away, just another cough away from running and possibly, breaking into tears.
Hanahaki was coming sooner to you than you thought.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Hello, everyone, and welcome to the next installment of the story! I want to apologize for such a long break, but life hits too hard sometimes… But, this chapter is slightly longer than the previous ones, and I'll try to update the next one asap! And that can mean after the Naruto Smut Monday, May part, and probably after the OC week… Buuuut we will see ^^'
For now, I hope you'll enjoy :D
Pairings: Kakashi Hatake/Reader, Obito Uchiha/Reader
TW: Modern AU, Hurt/Comfort, mentioned cheating, Obito is still a good friend, and Kakashi turns to be even worse
Chapter: 3/5
Word count: 6108
Chapter summary: Chapter in which (Y/n) receives a specific phone call and it seems like the situation is clarifying, enough for making the most crucial decision. Especially, when she starts to notice the reasons behind her friend's behavior.
SFW, under the cut
***
Behind darkness
Beneath candles
Whispers waltz
Around our dreams
Between Two Points - Glitch Mob || Spotify || Youtube ||
***
You have spent some really good time with Obito in the past three days and yet, the morning wake-ups are still a dreadful thing; lonely and cold, with an empty apartment. You felt even more abandoned than before. The path from his place to yours took a while, especially since he’d always bring something good to eat and brighten your mood with some local delicious food - to the point where you felt stupid, that he was always making breakfast or bringing it home, freshly prepared. There was no point in doing it now, as Obito was already on his way to your place, but you promised yourself that this time, it will be you who will prepare breakfast. Right now you needed a shower like it was necessary after a night filled with nightmares and sweat.
Because the thoughts of your boyfriend didn’t want to let you go. Inducing suffocating guilt, making you wonder where did you go wrong, how did this relationship go all the way down, and bringing you worst dreams at night. Luckily for you, you didn’t remember much; the only thing that you could remember were Kakashi and Obito’s faces, looking down at you, a sudden lack of air in your lungs that eventually made you awake, panting heavily.
You were conflicted, to put it lightly. Even if every day, this relationship you still had, in theory, looked like a lost cause, some part of you felt it’s right to put up a fight, to try to fix the relationship between you and Kakashi once again… But the other part screamed loudly, jamming every thought of saving what you had, trying to convince you that it’s time to take care of yourself and move on, find a new path to your life. And that part made you turn your eyes to Obito, look at your friend closer, and wonder how it would be if he would be your partner instead of Kakashi.
With your hair still forming a dripping mess, you opened the doors to see the always-smiling and bright face of Obito.
“Good morning, how are you this fine and sunny morning?” Obito’s carefree attitude made you smile instantly, and it looked like your whole apartment became brighter once he got inside.
“I’m- Well, I guess “okay” would be the right word to put it?”
“Okay”? Well that’s better than the past few days!” He smiled, showing the even teeth, and put groceries on the countertop, immediately unpacking them in the order he planned to cook, “a few more days and we’ll get to the ”good”.”
“Yeah, I wish…”
“I promise, everything will be good. There is no situation without an exit.”
You had no idea if you could resist a smile having him around; that optimistic attitude was like a bright spark in the world full of suffocating darkness, “you're an improper optimist, you know?”
“That’s what people tell me so,” he chuckled, firing up the stove, “so, soft or boiled eggs?”
Again, Obito didn’t let you move a finger while he made the breakfast. Even coffee - he was the one to prepare it. When it was ready, the table looked almost exactly like in these Instagram photos of breakfast taken in some exclusive hotel, with a great view in the distance - juice, coffee, slices of various breads, effs, hams, cheeses, or like in these romantic movies, even having some music playing in the background. You were sure it would take you the whole day to eat it, but when your stomach grumbled at the sight, demanding food, you realized one thing - since yesterday’s lunch, you had nothing to eat. And now with an “okay” mood, you definitely felt like eating.
“I could get used to this…” you mumbled, once you sat down, still looking with wonderment at the table.
“Oh, you know, it’s not imposs- Uhm I- I could make that every d- once in a while-” The man stuttered, cheeks visibly growing red, avoiding looking at you, focused on his own plate.
He just… Implied that he could be here every day, right? Trying to conceal that with a “once in a while” thing. That was surprising for you, although for a brief moment your heart started to beat faster, excited and somehow happy.
“Y-yeah once in a while-” You didn’t want to deepen his sudden embarrassment, so you just played along, and it made him look a little bit relieved.
Almost the whole breakfast passed in a light mood. You both managed to let that little weird thing slip and pass, not inflicting the atmosphere and not making it awkward. Yet, the thought you had planted in your head for a few days, suggesting that Obito might feel something for you and you could just feel a tiny bit of that “more than friends” chemistry between you, started to bloom.
But you were not given the opportunity to think more about it, as the pleasant chit-chat about nothing was interrupted by the ringtone.
Your telephone rang, and you rushed to pick it up.
“Huh? Oh, it’s yours-” Obito started to smile but faded away as quickly as it appeared, seeing your concerned frown. “It’s him?”
“No,” you mumbled and put the phone in front of his eyes to see the caller.
Hatake, Sakumo, the screen shown. Kakashi’s father, the last person you thought you’d hear from these days. It wasn’t like you had bad relations with Sakumo; the single father liked you very much and every visit he made you feel welcomed, but you knew that his son was everything to him.
You looked at Obito, confused what was going on, and for sure, scared. What would he want from you? In the days when you and his son were going through a crisis and Kakashi was there. He probably already spilled everything to his father already, and you were the one to blame.
“Shit- What I should-”
“Pick it up,” Obito remained calm, “put it on a speaker?”
“Alright,” you took a deep breath. The thought that he could be here made you feel more comfortable. You put the phone on the table, and opened the call, turning the speaker on, “um, hi, Mr. Hatake.”
“Hello, (Y/n),” the voice on the other side of the phone was calm,”how are you?”
“I’m-” What you were supposed to say? ‘Hey, I feel like shit thanks to your son but other than that it's the same old stuff!’? Or just lie that everything is fine? Would he know already? No… Kakashi wasn’t the type to tell that something is going on and if Sakumo would suspect something…
The loud sigh on the other side of the speaker only made you sure that your own suspicion was right.
“Is it that bad?”
“I- I don’t know what to say-” you looked at Obito, looking for some rescue, but the man only shrugged, slowly chewing on a croissant, listening carefully to every word you said and each that came from the speaker.
“Truth would be the best,” Sakumo’s voice was still calm and somehow warm, as it always used to be when your someday-might-have-been-father-in-law was talking to you, “even if it’s harsh.”
You took a deep breath. That wasn’t the kind of a talk you wanted to make, but Sakumo might be the only person that had any impact on Kakashi - on a rare occasion you were turning to your boyfriend’s father, to get some not so brilliant idea from his head, or persuade something that this stubborn idiot didn’t want to accept.
So at least, you owed the man the truth.
“(Y/n), are you there?”
“Yes, I- I’m sorry, I just… Need a second. I wasn’t expecting you to call me…”
“I can hear that,” you could hear in the voice how the person on the other side smiled, and you could imagine how this smile was warm as usual, “I just want to know what’s going on. Kakashi didn’t say a word to me, and is constantly avoiding your subject.”
“Yeah, it’s… Not well between us,” you sighed, and Obito rolled his eyes with clear annoyance and disapproval.
“That I figured. I was surprised when he came here without announcing himself and without you. When I asked him if everything was fine, Kakashi only said that nothing happened and you just wanted to stay at home for some reason.”
An angry grimace bloomed on Obito’s face. He stood up quickly, sliding the chair loudly and almost tumbling it. Now, it was your time to roll your eyes and look at him with disapproval, for making such noise while you were on the phone. He started to throw his hands in the air like he was about to scream, but you stopped him with your hand.
“S-sorry. To be fair, Kakashi said that you were nagging him that he didn’t want to visit you recently,” the images from the morning when he left were still fresh and hurting. Like a wound that just started to heal, but every time your boyfriend’s name came up in the conversation, “and when I offered to come with him, he said that he wanted to talk with you about something and that I would be bored.”
“I see,” Sakumo sighed. You could feel in his voice some kind of disappointment, buried under a load of sadness. “Can I ask you about something? It’s rather intimate, and I understand if you will refuse to answer. I probably know what you’re going to say, but just want to be sure about this… So may I?”
“Sure…?”
“Are you truly happy with my son?”
Of all the questions you could expect, from being cheated on through financial problems to pregnancy subjects, that wasn’t the first one you could expect. Instead of digging and searching for the cause of the whole situation, instead of pushing you to reveal what was underneath the relationship looking for the rotten roots, he went straight to the outcome of the few past months - were you really happy with Kakashi?
And to be fair, you couldn’t answer this one positively. For the past few days, you were assured you can have more attention and affection, even from just a friend, than from your boyfriend the past few months. You had more fun with Obito, going on walks, to the museums, and gardens, watching movies, playing board games, and talking than with Kakashi who only worked and rarely spoke to you when he was home.
The prolonging silence started to ring in your ears. Sakumo was very patient, but you needed to say it out loud.
“No,” you whispered like you just betrayed a secret that shouldn’t be spoken out loud. One word that could destroy worlds, affirmation of the start of an inevitable end.
“I was afraid I would hear that,” Sakumo sighed, “I could tell by his behavior. I’ve seen it before.”
“Before? What do you mean? Was he like that with others?”
“I’m not talking about Kakashi. I’m talking about his mother.”
“Mother?”
At that moment Obito sat down on the chair and leaned closer to the phone like he wanted to be sure to hear every word. And so did you. Kakashi never spoke about his mother, nor Sakumo. You never saw any picture of the woman, as the subject of her was a taboo among the family. The person that seemed to never exist for some mysterious reason, and for the first time you were about to hear a secret that has lied buried deep under layers of sadness and pain.
“I guess you wondered why we never talked about her… It was always too painful to bring her subject up but seeing what’s going on between you two… I can’t help but think that somehow Kakashi is going the same way as her, even if he more than once assured that he doesn’t want to be like her.”
“Going the same way- Mr. Hatake, I don’t know if telling me this will change anything… And I don’t want to cause trouble-”
“If anyone is causing trouble now,” Sakumo interrupted you, “it’s my son. And you deserve to know and decide what to do. At least, I can warn you.”
“This sounds even more concerning if I’m being honest…”
“Well, it’s not an easy subject, for sure. Me and my ex-wife, we had… Problems.” Sakumo sighed, and this one was filled with torment, you felt bad you didn’t hang up, “at the beginning, I felt like our relationship was something else, like true love. She felt like my soulmate, understanding me without a word… But after a few years, before we were married she suddenly started to act differently. Growing suddenly cold, hiding behind the facade of work and tiredness. Does it ring a bell already?”
“Unfortunately,” you already had tears in your eyes and fought to not let your voice break. Obito already caught your hand in his, gently brushing his thumb over the suddenly cold skin, trying to steal your attention away, at least for one small second. Just do not let the tears start falling down your cheeks.
Sakumo sighed again, “we almost broke up back then. Almost. Then, I very quickly asked her to marry me, as a few months later Kakashi was brought into the world. And it all seemed like she would be a wonderful mother at the beginning like the crisis was over and we were over every bad thing that happened between us. That the appearance of our son just wonderfully fixed everything.”
“It didn’t?”
“No. Unfortunately. Kakashi was less than 3 years old when she left. It wasn’t a nice end to a marriage, and now I’m sure it somehow got imprinted on my son, in a very harmful and destructive way.”
“What… What happened?”
“We fought. A lot,” you were positive the man on the other side of the phone had tears in his eyes too, keeping them tamed only because of his will. “Every evening was filled with screams, about… Everything, really. Until she admitted that before we were even married she was seeing someone else.”
Both of you were shocked to hear that, squeezing each other’s hands not realizing the nervous gesture. Sakumo continued.
“I was ready to forgive her. I really was. For our son’s sake. But then she…” That was it, Sakumo’s voice broke. The memory was painful, even if years and years had passed, and more details were clear to you - why there was no picture of this woman, why Kakashi acted like he always despised and denied her existence, even if he acted more or less in a similar way, aware about it or not. A few moments had passed, before Sakumo was able to hold back the sob, and pick up the talk, “forgive me it’s… It’s still so painful to remember how the person you would give the whole world just coldly says that she doesn’t love you anymore, and she loves someone else… So, she left Kakashi and me and went her own way. And the more I talked with our mutual friends, the more lies came out that she weaved since the beginning of our relationship…”
“Why are you telling me all of this?” You finally asked, when from Sakumo's side didn’t come any more word.
“Because I know where it is going. You’re a decent person, and I don’t want you to go through what I had to go through.”
“W-wait. Are you telling me I should break up with Kakashi before that all would… Happen…?”
“I’m rather suggesting,” he sighed, “that you shouldn't follow what the heart wants, and do what your head is suggesting to you. If it’s breakup and freedom from my son you need… Maybe a cold shower will clear his mind a bit. That’s if he will be concerned about it.”
“But what if… What if I still love him? '' Obito squeezed your hand a little bit tighter, but his face showed nothing but pure focus on the telephone's screen.
“Do you? Or it burned out long ago and it’s just a habit to be together?” Somehow you were sure that Sakumo smiled, sadly and with remorse. Somewhere in the background, an intercom beeped, announcing that someone entered the code to the apartment. The man took a deep breath before speaking again, “Kakashi’s coming back… (Y/n), please, don’t make the same mistake I did. Promise, you will not pursue something that you know won’t make you happy.”
“I-” the man’s voice still rang in your head. What if indeed, it’s just a habit? Didn’t the last few days already show it? “I promise-”
“Good. Take care, (Y/n),” and without waiting for your farewell Sakumo hung up the call.
It left you both silent, and without an idea how to comment on the odd phone call. Your hands were still entwined, and a few seconds passed before you withdrew it, making both of you blush, realizing that you held hands for almost most of the call. And for you, it certainly wasn’t a bad feeling - it was warm and so intimate; you craved more, starved for any affection for the past few months.
“Well now, adding to a shitshow…” you mumbled, standing up. The full meaning of Sakumo’s words started to hit you like a train going at full speed. You were literally told that you should finish it if you’re not happy. The father of your boyfriend suggested that the way out is the break-up. Those things didn’t happen even in movies…
“I think the man has a point,” Obito shrugged, chewing on another big bite of a croissant, making his cheeks puffy.
“Oh, right, because apparently everyone around and even his father tells me that it’s wrong to be stuck in this relationship! Maybe Sakumo’s dog will suddenly start speaking and will tell me that- And don’t you dare to speak with your mouth full!” You pointed at Obito, seeing that despite the mouth filled with pastry he takes a deep breath.
He swallowed, growing red, throwing thunders from his eyes at you, “you don’t need to shout at me…”
“Sorry…” You huffed falling back on the chair, “I’m just-”
“I know.”
“You do?”
“I mean- I don’t really know how you are feeling, but I can imagine.”
“Don’t. It’s an awful feeling,” you sighed, playing with a spoon sitting in your tea, “and I know what to do, but I don’t think I have the guts to do it.”
“Oh please,” Obito snarled. He really was annoyed today, since Sakumo called, and it has been some time since you have seen him like that, “it’s Kakashi who doesn’t have the guts to take an interest in his own relationship! Why even should you care about that asshole? You will be hurt over and over- you’ve heard what his own father said! And you’re suddenly saying that you don’t have the guts- what’s wrong with you?!”
“I know what everyone says! It’s just me, a dumb little woman that can’t accept the fact that her relationship is already over because I’m afraid of being alone! Because I deprived myself of the ability to be alone through the years, and now I’m on the thin fucking ice and I have no idea what to do!” It wasn’t usual either for Obito to raise his voice at you, nor say something like that. Combined with the fear, and with the odd phone call, the suffocating feeling started to spread through your chest, bringing tears to your eyes.
“Oh dear,” in one second, the man’s face changed from anger to dread and remorse. In that one second he appeared just near you, and grabbing you in his arms he put you on your feet, hugging you tightly enough to take away the air from your lungs, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to scream and make you cry.”
You wanted to say something, but your mouth was blocked by the muscular chest.
“I’m so sorry,” he continued, this time kissing the side of your head, “I’m awful, I shouldn’t do it, please forgive me, please, please, please-”
“You’re crushing me-” You finally mumbled, being able to part just a little from the man.
Obito let go of you, catching black hair strands in his hands, like he was about to pull them off his head, “no! I’m a terrible, terrible friend! I’m so, so sorry-”
“Relax! I’m fine!” You rolled your eyes, massaging your neck. It was quite a hug he pulled you into. And that kiss on the side of your head, why did it feel somehow intimate, good, and yet it didn’t feel like it was a bad thing? Just like that hand-holding, and that old couple calling you a pair the other day? Why did you feel like having Obito around on a daily basis wouldn’t be that bad? “Since when do you have this grip of steel? “You asked, blushing and brushing off the thought.
“I work out,” Obito grinned, but his smile disappeared as quickly as it bloomed, “oh no- I hurt you-”
“You didn’t. I don’t recall you going to the gym and packing up like that…”
“Oh, it’s been some time,” tingled by the interest in that, and by the comment about his strength and appearance, he seemed like he flexed his muscles a bit, like a proud peacock that was showing off the colorful and long feathers. “I thought it might take my mind off some things, and unload some anger and nerves that I had.”
“Did it work?”
“Mhm, like a miracle- Hey, how about we go to the gym now?”
The gym? You hadn’t been in one since… Ages, really. Every time you went, and you were positively sure you would be attending it more, something came up. Just unlucky events, too much work, Kakashi making arguments about another thing you’ll be spending money on and not doing it eventually… Yeah, it would kill your spirit on the spot.
“If I do, you will need to go easy on me.”
“Easy? Oh hell no, I will make you sweat out that sadness and stupid ideas,” he chuckled, and his cheeks got a little pink-ish tint and immediately pointed to the sports bag he brought with him, “Come on. I was going to go there in the evening anyway. Gym and then dinner is on me. It will be fun, I promise!”
“Fine,” maybe a little movement will be good actually? That would be - more move than just walking. And you were just sure that Obito wouldn’t go easy on you, “let me find my gym suit…”
***
As expected, Obito did absolutely everything to make you barely breathe and walk, making you exercise on so many machines you were sure that there wasn’t one where you didn’t leave your sweat on. But on the other hand, during brief moments when he allowed you to catch your breath, or just to show you how to exercise properly, you had a chance to look closer at him, and the way his body worked. And it would be shameful, an obvious lie if you’d say you didn’t enjoy the view - his muscles were not overgrown, and it was rather clear that he was training to maintain that muscle mass and condition. He moved swiftly, he was strong and really good-looking with sweat on his forehead… You were staring. Oh dear god, you were staring. To the point you caught yourself staring instead of exercising, and it was a mystery for you if he noticed the glance or not; every time he turned to you, to check if you were not slacking off you tried your best to not show the panic, and pretend you’re fully invested in squeezing the last sweat out of you.
And the dinner - pleasant and filling, nothing too fancy, with a nice view and place to sit. And this time Obito didn’t have to bother to take your thoughts away from your boyfriend. Somehow you felt free, your mind drifted off from the subject of a certain man, letting you focus on the other, more enjoyable things. Like talking with your friend, actually admiring him; the way he was, the way he spoke with you, the way he took interest in you.
Just as… If he wasn’t just your friend. The vision of Obito being with you instead of being in a rotten, pointless relationship was wandering in the back of your head.
And it occurred to you - Obito was always a nice guy, a loyal friend, always there when you needed him. All the shy smiles, blushes, casual and innocent talks… Was he liking you in a more intimate way? In a “more than a friend” manner? Was his care a sign of hidden desire, buried deep down under the layers of friendship?
Years stuck with Kakashi deprived you of the ability to see such things, emotionally stunned you, and all signs of care you have sought only in your boyfriend, not in other people.
And maybe you should.
Evening came surprisingly fast when you two were just walking through the alleys of the park, eating ice creams. Like the gentleman he was, Obito insisted on carrying your sports bag as well as his.
“It’s late…” The man said once you’ve reached the gate and stepped on the empty sidewalk, “I would invite you over, but my place is a mess… I'd better walk you home, not gonna let you walk alone and I’ll be heading to mine place.”
“How about you sleep at my place?” You blurted out, not really thinking before you spoke and before you could bite your tongue. A sleepover has been on your mind for some time now, as it would be nice to wake up in not an empty apartment, but it seemed that somehow it could be seen as inappropriate, especially by Obito. And Kakashi, but you didn’t care much about his opinion, not anymore.
“Huh?”
“Yeah, you know… A sleepover. Oh, come on, it would be nice having some company to have a late-night talk or morning laziness, or chat while still half asleep or nag about loud neighbors instead of… Nothing.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yeah, why not?” Shrugging you turned around, walking now backward. It gave you a good view of the man, now looking at you with his eyes wide, and again with a pink tint on his cheeks, barely visible in the light of sodium lamps, “wouldn’t be the first time. We have had sleepovers since college.”
“Yeah, I just th-” Obito swallowed and shook his head with a smile, “alright I’d actually love to! But we’ll have to go through my apartment, I need a few things. Unless you want to share your toothbrush.”
“Sure.”
“You’ll let me use your toothbrush?”
“No-! I was talking about going through your apartment-!”
“Pffff-” A deep, whole-hearted laugh escaped his chest, and Obito’s arm wrapped around your shoulders, “so it’s not yet the stage when we use the same toothbrush?”
Here it was. A joke that made your cheeks turn to the color of a ripe tomato, but buried under the joke lay the hope you were always reading as a sign of being just a good friend. Since when was he like that? Were you just blind to it, and Obito liked you this way for way longer than he would admit? And most importantly - was this your chance for a normal relationship, where every part is equally caring for each other?
Or was it just your longing for human contact and a little bit of sympathy, and you misinterpreted all the signs, giving yourself a false hope?
“Hey, I was just joking,” his voice dragged you out from your thoughts, and clearly was a reaction to your blush. “Come on, I’m dying to have some lemonade,” he quickly changed the subject.
“I- I don’t have lemonade-”
“I know. That's why I will make one, once we reach your place,” he winked, and still holding a hand around your shoulders, Obito walked with you down the sidewalk.
It was truly a riddle, you wanted to solve - was Obito Uchiha having a crush on you, or was it just your imagination?
***
Sadly, no shops were open, there were no lemons in Obito’s apartment and the man seemed to be devastated when you said that he wouldn’t find them at your place either. Besides, it was after midnight already, and the sound of a blender or of the cooking that was usually loud in the case of Obito, the neighbors would just hate you.
“Well, your couch always looked comfortable,” Obito threw his bag on the given furniture, looking at the little worn-out upholstery and too soft pillows.
“You won’t sleep on the couch,” your answer was quick. Maybe a little too quick because Obito looked at you with surprise.
“Huh?”
“That’s where…” What was the point of hiding the fact you were not even sleeping with Kakashi in one bed, and most of his nights he spends sleeping in the living room? “He sleeps.”
The ravenette blinked a few times, processing what you just said. He pinched the bridge of his nose, “wait. Hold on. You’re telling me you’re not even sleeping in one room? In one bed as other couples do?”
“Since months.”
“Why are you still with him, remind me?”
“I honestly have no idea. At least not anymore.”
“I can tell,” the man sighed, but there was no annoyance or anger in this. Just disappointment and resignation, “alright, but it doesn’t mean we’re gonna sleep together in one bed, right?”
Well… It would be nice… Having someone to spoon with while sleeping, feeling the warmth of another person next to you, listening to someone’s breath. But it would be wrong, right? At least… Until everything is not resolved, “I should have the inflatable mattress, so we’ll just put that on the bedroom floor, and you’ll take the bed.”
“O hell no, you’re sleeping in bed.”
“But you’re my guest-!”
“Bed - you,” his finger touched your arm and pushed very gently. You knew that grimace he put on, the face of a man who won’t allow a different answer to be accepted, or will give you a hard time changing his mind. As well you could agree to his demand now, “mattress - me.”
“Alright, fine, fine… I'll just take the water from the-” as you entered the kitchen you stood a moment on the threshold, looking into the darkened room. The slow, sweet melody reverberated in the air, apparently coming from the device standing on the windowsill. “Oh? The radio is still on?”
Obito was next to you instantly, “is it? Ah, we must’ve left it on when we went out.”
“Weird. I could swear I turned it off…”
“So do I,” his voice echoed, “do you like that song?”
“Yeah, I haven’t heard it for a while,” indeed, this was a song that brought some nice thoughts, memories warm like a fluffy blanket. But it always annoyed Kakashi. So you stopped listening to it, “you know, he doesn't-”
“I wasn’t asking about that idiot,” Obito’s voice sounded somewhere near your ear giving you chills. His palm found yours and wrapped gently around your fingers, pulling you to the center of a room. You could barely see his features in the vague light of street lamps, and a lamp that was lit in a nearby room “can I ask for one dance?”
A dance. A slow dance, to be exact. It’s been years since Obito asked you to do it, and the last time, it was the graduation party in college. He actually had a small quarrel about that with Kakashi but after that… It seemed normal between them. So what harm could just one dance do now?
“Sure. I just might be a little out of practice.”
“I have toes of steel, I will be fine,” he chuckled. Palms gently settled in the curve of your waist, thumbs wandered on your shirt, stroking your sides - not too bravely, hesitating at first if he should do it, but enough to make you feel the tender touch.
He waited for a second or two, for you to put your palms on the broad shoulders, before he started to lead, spinning the two of you slowly, swaying you to the rhythm of a slow song.
He was close. So, so close you could almost hear the rapid heartbeat of a man. And he tries to keep himself calm, you knew it - but his hands trembled a little, and he was controlling his breath, deliberately taking deep whiffs through his nose, and exhaling slowly through his mouth.
But that didn’t stop you from getting closer. You had no idea if this was intentional, or your bodies were just drawn to each other, eager to feel the warmth and closure evidently craved by you both. You couldn’t say at what moment you noticed that his hands were resting on the small of your back, hugging you closer to his body, and yours were wrapped around Obito’s neck, stroking with thumb the skin and short soft hair on the nape.
Maybe when your foreheads met? Or maybe, when in the semi-darkness you looked in each other’s eyes, longer than just friends would do?
And you could feel his breath crashing over your skin, so close to your lips. All it would take was to stand on your tiptoes and press your lips to his, embrace into the kiss and sink into the warmth of the man. Even the thoughts of Kakashi wouldn’t stop you. The hell with him. He was the last one to deserve being fair and honest!
Balancing on your tiptoes, you leaned closer to him, closer to Obito’s lips. And you would swear he leaned to you too. All you needed to do was to catch the soft flesh and embrace the kiss. You closed your eyes. His smell was nice. A mix of mint with vanilla, and a shower gel. Your lips quivered, feeling how close he was. You leaned further, expecting to feel the wet and soft and little scarred lips…
But you felt something else, definitely not lips. A rough texture, and stingy bristles.
You opened your eyes to see the side of his face. He turned his cheek to you, preventing you from giving him a full, intimate kiss.
You parted away, enough to see his face. So… Did you misread the signs? Was he not giving you any in that matter? You were just so lonely and desperately looking for a closure you thought your friend would-
“We shouldn’t-” He breathed out suddenly, voice full of sadness, almost breaking. “We shouldn’t. Not now. I- I don’t want you to have regrets that you’re not- Settled yet and- Maybe then-”
“Oh- Y-yeah-” Regrets? How could you regret that? So this was the last evidence to tell you that Obito was into you, that he wanted- But, oh the gentleman he was. Even if you were quite sure that your relationship with Kakashi had ended, and there was no point in dragging it, prolonging your misery, Obito didn’t want you to do something you might regret somehow. Still, you didn’t say to your boyfriend that your relationship was over, so technically… Kissing Obito would be cheating, right? Oh, silly, dear gentleman… “Thank you.”
“Let’s… Go to sleep, shall we? We’re both tired and- Yeah.”
“Totally. I will- Fall asleep in a few minutes,” you chuckled, trying to brush away the perplexity of the moment.
Obito nodded and mumbled something about using the bathroom before he left the room. The song ended a long time ago, and the radio chimed some joyful music that died in the silence once you pushed the on/off button on the device. You haven't spoken much, later on, only a chit-chat that wasn’t really easy to keep up, and dreamy goodnight on both sides, before you turned off the light.
You couldn’t stop thinking. Your thoughts raced, bringing you imaginations of Obito and you, together, spending days, months, years… Would it be different if you paid more attention to the little gestures? Would your life be less miserable, if you would take interest in Obito before you were starved almost to death for another loving human being in your life?
Because now it was clear. Obito had a crush on you.
The fuzzy warm feeling that settled in your chest, and an alarm that started to pound in the back of your head.
***
Proofread by: @kissmekakashi
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An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Hello and welcome to my first fic this year! :D I'm so sorry it took so long, but Christmas Event drained a lot of my energy and I needed to get some rest, plus the Naruto Smut Monday is an OC story... It wasn't easy to write the first chapter but it's ready and will be up on the 31st of January :D
So without further ado, I give you this, and I want to warn you all! It's fic where KAKASHI is the bad one :D I'm so sorry all Kakashi fans, but I needed to do it, I needed destroyed friendships and broken hearts :D
Pairings: Kakashi Hatake/Reader, Obito Uchiha/Reader
TW: Modern AU, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Kakashi is an ass, Obito is a sweetheart, mentioned breakups
Chapter: 1/4
Word count: 4748
Work summary: Your relationship with Kakashi wasn't the happiest one - after years of being together, some crisis you've been through, you've found yourself on the crossroads, torn which way to follow. Luckily, you had a good friend to rely on, yet, you were not aware of what role Obito would play in your life.
Proofread by: @kissmekakashi
SFW, under the cut
***
We've got forever
Slipping through our hands
We've got more time
To never understand
Between Two Points - Glitch Mob || Spotify || Youtube ||
***
The rain was tirelessly knocking on the window of the small kitchen in your apartment. It was another afternoon, not different from the ones you saw in the past few weeks when you were sitting at the kitchen table, warming your hands with a mug full of warm tea. Usually alone with your thoughts, sometimes accompanied by a book or screen of your phone.
With each passing day, the silence grew more depressing, getting on your nerves, causing you to feel like you were the only one to give love and receive love here. And that was the problem. Or rather, he was the problem. Lately, your boyfriend had a hard time finding any time that you two could spend together.
In the beginning, you thought that he simply had more work to do, staying late at the office, so you were not bringing it up. You hoped that it was a temporary situation, after all, the deadlines in the corporation he was working at were tight and the analysis wouldn’t write themselves. Nevertheless, it was just a bit weird - usually, he was just bringing work home, staying up late. Maybe finally your complaining hit him when you said you can’t sleep with him working on the laptop in your bedroom?
Maybe it wasn’t exactly every day, but for most days of the week, it happened and during the weekends, asking him to go somewhere out, just the two of you was nearly impossible; he would rather stay and watch some movies, or do something on PC with headphones tightly glued to his ears.
The situation was repeating for months now, and every time you have asked him, his answer was ‘I’m working. Is there something wrong with it?’ or ‘I’m sorry, but I’m too tired. Another time?’. But ‘another time’ never came, leaving you with thousands of thoughts racing through your head, putting you in a very unpleasant point, and digging down your self-esteem. You wouldn’t ever think that he could have an affair, no, Kakashi wasn’t the one to be like that. But it would be a lie if you’d say that this thought didn’t pass through your mind.
The rattle of the key opening the doors to your apartment brought you back into reality, forcing you to turn your eyes from the gray city landscape behind the clear glass.
But you didn’t move from your spot, waiting for him to pass through the kitchen. You could hear some grumble coming from the hall, complaining about the weather and that he should take the umbrella with him. He looked a bit surprised, seeing you at the kitchen table.
“Hi,” you started, softly, but with exhaustion in your voice.
“Yeah, hey,” his response was blunt, without any emotions that would show that he is at least happy to see you.
“How was work?”
“Okay,” he shrugged, pouring water into a glass, and drinking it down. He didn’t even ask how was your day. It would be nice to hear ‘and how was yours?’ at least once in response, like it was just some time ago.
“Are you hungry? I made dinner…” Trying to keep the almost nonexistent conversation, you waved your hand at the stove, pointing at the pot with some soup ready, “the noodles will be a little later tho.”
Kakashi didn’t even look at it. “I had dinner at work.”
“Oh…- What did you have?”
“Miso.”
“Right. Why am I even asking?” You huffed, starting to feel a little bit irritated by the short and emotionless answers.
“How am I supposed to know?” He shrugged again as nothing happened.
“Yeah, you don’t read in my mind…” You echoed the one thing that he was repeating a lot these times, “fine… Maybe we can eat it in the evening? It’s Friday, you know, no work tomorrow… We put on some movie, cuddle on the couch…” Again, you were trying to suggest spending at least a little bit together, for the n-th time, even if you knew it was futile.
“Sorry, I can’t, pup” he sighed, getting a bit irritated too for some reason. The pet name sounded more like an angry and sarcastic one, not a loving tone you associated it with, “I’m leaving soon.”
“Leaving?”
“Yeah.”
“Work again?”
“No,” you raised your eyebrows hearing the answer different from what you’d expected.
“Then what?”
“Why do you want to know?”
“Because maybe I am your girlfriend?!” Fed up, irritated and on the verge of crying, you slammed your hand on the table out of pure frustration seeking to find the way out. “And excuse me that I’m interested in what you do Kakashi, I thought that’s how relationships work!”
“Tsk, don’t scream,” he sighed, finally looking at you. “You’re right, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. There is a company meeting.”
“So, work.”
“Not exactly. It’s a company party. You know, there are funds to spend, better throw some parties before they are gone.”
“So… You’re going out, drinking with friends? Is it an obligatory party?”
“Well, no…-”
“Can’t you just bail out from it?” You pleaded, putting your hands to a prayer, “can’t you say that you don’t feel well and just stay with me this evening?”
“If I could, I would,” he sighed again, washing the glass and putting it on the drying rack, “but higher-ups will be there, and they don’t like to see that people are refusing such generous proposals.”
“Bullshit…”
“I know it sounds like one, but it’s how it is,” for a moment you thought, or rather, had hope that he will come to you, hug you, kiss the top of your head - do anything that would have an indication of any feelings towards you. But as he moved, you realized, he was heading towards the exit from a small kitchen. “Sorry. I’d stay to talk with you more, but I need to get ready…” You sat back down on the chair, tears pricking in your eyes as he left the room, leaving you heartbroken again. Suddenly his head appeared on the doors for a moment, “maybe tomorrow we can eat your dinner? I’ll try to not have so much work in the evening, okay?” He asked before disappearing again.
“Yeah, sure,” you exhaled, doubting in his words.
***
As Kakashi left the apartment, leaving you alone, he threw only a short ‘don’t wait for me’ before closing the doors behind him.
He was more likely to come back late in the middle of the night when you’d be sleeping already.
Your evening was pretty much the same as other evenings lately - a bit of crying, tired eyes, watching something on TV, reading a book, going through social media and random pages… Anything just to keep your mind occupied by something other than thinking how Kakashi is out there, having fun without you, laughing with his co-workers, friends… Maybe indeed he met someone, but it wasn’t yet so serious to define if it’s worth taking a shot. Still, the thought that your years-long relationship was a temporary thing, was horrifying.
As you switched the channels, for the third time seeing the same absurd program about how aliens have built the pyramids, your phone buzzed out of the blue, the jingle of a message popping up on a chat echoed in the room, hurting your ears from too high volume settings.
For a moment you hoped that maybe it was Kakashi, checking up on you, writing to make sure you are okay or just… Showing any affection towards you.
You were a little surprised to see the name of the sender at that moment.
[Obito]: Hey!
[Obito]: You there?
Obito was a friend to Kakashi and you since college. You were part of a bigger group that parted after studies, you managed to keep in touch and stay on friendly terms. Or maybe it was because Obito was hired at the same time, in the same company as Kakashi.
He should be at the same party as your boyfriend, so it was a little unexpected that he had time to write to you, instead of enjoying himself.
[Me]: Yeah, what’s up?
[Obito]: Nothing much really
[Obito]: This party sucks
[Me]: Oh really?
[Obito]: Yeah, it’s boring af
[Obito]: But I’m surprised you’re not here
[Me]: Why would I? It’s a company party.
[Obito]: I mean…
[Obito]: We’ve been told that we can take +1 today
[Obito]: I wonder why Kakashi didn’t take you here
[Obito]: Not like I’m nosy, just…
[Obito]: Curious
Something shrunk in your chest, for a moment leaving you breathless. So… Kakashi could have taken you on that stupid event, yet he has chosen not to for some reason. Despite whatever reason, he will come up with, you were bitter, disappointed, and angry. Maybe it was just a stupid go-out, but you felt like he was avoiding admitting that he even is with you.
[Me]: Well I wonder too
[Obito]: Yamato came with his new girlfriend
[Obito]: I think you might like her
[Me]: Good for him
[Obito]: I screwed up, didn’t I?
[Me]: WIth what?
[Obito]: Telling you all of this
[Me]: Not really
[Me]: I mean, I’m not surprised
[Me]: I’m just…
[Me]: Nevermind, I don’t want to drag you into this
[Obito]: Hey, we've known each other for a long while now. And I know Kakashi too not since today
[Obito]: It’s not good between you guys, right?
[Me]: Is it so easy to tell?
[Obito]: Yeah, kinda
[Obito]: It’s not the best thing to talk over the chat
[Me]: I don’t know if I want to talk about it at all you know?
[Obito]: I probably wouldn’t be too
[Obito]: But you’re both my friends, and I hate to see that there is something bad going on
[Obito]: When was the last time you were out to eat something?
You had to put a longer thought into it. Since Kakashi started acting weird you could hardly remember when you were out with anyone, to be fair. It wasn’t like you were not invited to such, just didn’t want to go without your boyfriend. It scared you when you reminded yourself just how long it had been.
[Me]: Uhm… 5 months ago? Something like that?
[Obito]: Wow
[Obito]: So it is bad
[Obito]: I assume you have tomorrow’s evening free? Or the day after tomorrow?
[Me]: Well he said that maybe we could eat dinner together tomorrow but…
[Obito]: I understand, just let me know, okay?
[Obito]: We’ll drag you out from this gloomy house
[Obito]: Like the old times ;)
[Me]: Yeah, sure
[Obito]: Okay, I’m going back to the crowd
[Obito]: I’m here if you need to talk! :)
[Me]: I know
[Me]: Thank you for taking care of me
[Obito]: Someone has to ;)
You didn’t respond to that one, not sure how should you anyway.
“Like the old times”, you couldn’t stop the little smile that bloomed in the corner of your lips upon the memories of last year at college. He was always great support for both of you, never complaining when you wanted to vent about anything, and often taking Kakashi onto the long escapades when you felt he was again closing inside him.
But it all changed since they got their job in the corporation. There was no more time to have long weekends playing board games, with whatever girl Obito had tried his luck with, no more time to have movie marathons, sleepovers, common travels… There was just no space anymore for these things.
The movie you’ve been watching was ending anyway, so it was the right time to make a batch, and head to bed. Maybe read some books.
As you sunk your body in the hot water you started once again you stuck your eyes to the screen of your phone, watching any video that was supposed to make you smile. Funny cats, human fails, cooking failures, sheer stupidity, some edits… Anything but the dogs.
Kakashi always liked dogs, he even thought of getting one but the landlord wasn’t happy on the news, so you, or rather he postponed the decision to when you would have your own place. The funny videos and cute pics of dogs were a big part of your conversations on any social media. But, he just lost any interest in them, not saying anything when you tried to connect and show him some. He too stopped sending you anything.
So now, this particular subject was more irritating than bringing you any joy.
But you couldn’t find anything that would catch your eye, so the little device landed on the edge of the bath, and you sank deeper, so only your face protruded over the water surface.
How long could you live like this? Your feelings and needs were neglected, and your boyfriend was reluctant in showing you any interest or emotions.
Maybe it was time to reevaluate your life? Find what’s really important? There was no denying, your life was awfully repeatable and boring like you were caught in a downward spiral - get up, eat breakfast, work, then dinner, some tv, bath, book - all these things were constant, dragging you down, having your mood and self-esteem reaching so low you never thought it would be possible. And you were afraid you were running out of options on how to solve it.
Having a talk with Kakashi was pointless - you’ve tried that one many times, and it was like talking to a wall - he seemed to reject your point of view. Always busy with work, always busy with every other thing, but you.
You were once on the brink of breaking up, and that one time he reflected, sat down with you. Back then he assured you that you mean everything to him, and he would do everything to change the way you two are but… A week and a half later you came back to his usual ‘I-have-no-time-for-you’ schedule.
You could try to do that once again, as a last resort of saving this, but you had doubts if the situation wouldn’t repeat.
Talking to friends was out of option. Except for maybe three people, you had no more common friends, as Kakashi never seemed to need more. Not like he had a lot of them anyway, he was just… Having a hard time connecting and keeping in touch with someone who potentially could be seen as a friend.
You could tell him you need a break. Few days without him, to think in solitude. No friends, no phone, just you and a hotel room in a small town with a nice view - you would just sit on the windowsill and admire the landscapes, and by the evening-
That made you realize, for how long you were sitting in your apartment, in your town. The last time you were anywhere was to visit his father on Christmas. Two years ago. 29 months ago. He was visiting him, on his own, but he wasn’t even mentioning taking you with him.
And the last option; the one you didn’t want to think about, pushing it away like it was the worst, immoral thought you ever had - breaking up with him. But you loved him, you always did since you laid your eyes on him. Since the day you two were put for the same project at classes, and something between you clicked, you were inseparable.
At least, you thought so. Seems like life verified it on its own, putting you in an awkward, and quite painful situation.
Torn, not having any more strength to gather your thoughts, it was time for you to sleep. It was 2 am already, and Kakashi said ‘don’t wait for me’ so… Why should you? You were tired, embittered… Just a few more checks on social media, light screens burning your eyes in the darkness.
The message from Obito was unexpected, but again, gave you a little smile. It wasn’t much, just a stupid gif showing two small kittens, one hugging another, and a message.
[Obito]: Good night! Tomorrow will be better ;)
[Me]: Good night to you too!
As incorrigible optimist as he was, he did put a smile on your face before you managed to fall into an uneven dream.
***
Even if you woke up quite early, the sun was up, and the air was filled with the pleasant smell of freshly brewed coffee. The alarm clock showed 7:30 am. So Kakashi was home, yet you didn’t remember him coming to bed and waking you at any point.
Still in your pajamas, with hair ruffles stylishly from sleep and still rubbing your eyes you stepped out from the bedroom, to see your boyfriend sitting in yesterday’s t-shirt and underwear, drinking coffee at the kitchen table. You put on a false smile and headed to him, a bit disappointed that he didn’t wake you up anyway.
“Good morning,” you greeted him with a hoarse voice.
“Hey,” the man sighed, clearly tired, waiting for the caffeine to kick in.
“I didn’t remember you coming back.”
“Yeah, I slept on the couch.”
Ah, right. He didn’t want to wake you up, so he slept on the couch. You tried to estimate how many nights were like this already but you lost count about a month ago. While you started to make yourself some coffee (killing the thought that somehow he did make one for you too), he was simply reading something on his phone.
Morning routine, going through the world news, solving some morning sudoku, doing anything really to jump-start his brain.
With a steaming cup of your own drink, you sat down on the chair in front of him. The silence between you felt heavy, uncomfortable, almost choking you. Even if the decision wasn’t yet made if you really want that, you knew what was the right thing to do. Talking with him… And tell him that you might need a break.
Just… If you could open your mouth and squeeze any words out of your throat… yeah, that would be great.
Surprisingly, Kakashi was the first to say, “so, any plans for today?”
Your chest swelled, and warm thoughts covered the fact that his tone was the same as yesterday, the day before, the day before that one… So maybe it was a good thing you didn’t start to speak. The glimpses of hope that it was just a hard time, and you’re gonna be over it started to grow roots in your heart.
“Not really,” you chirped, putting on a more sincere smile. “I- I was hoping that maybe we could spend some time together?”
“I’m afraid it’s not possible.”
And here it was, his words crushing the little bits of hope that grew inside you, throwing you back to a cold and aching state. “What?”
“Yeah, I want to visit my father,” she drank down his coffee and stood up, “he was nagging me that he doesn’t see me.”
“But, I can go with you-” you tried to protest, desperately clawing to the hope that he would take you with him.
“You have work, besides, I need to speak to him about some things. You would be bored anyway,” Kakashi shrugged, standing up and cleaning the cup.
“Then why do you ask if I have plans?”
“Hm,” for a moment he was standing, looking at you, looking for an answer to your question Yet in his eyes you couldn’t see the warmth and love you were so used to. “I don’t know. I’m sorry it’s morning, I don’t think straight.”
“I see,” you were close to crying, holding back the tears with the last bits of will. “When are you leaving?”
“Soon. I’ll pack some things and go, the forecast is awful, and I want to be there before evening.”
“Right… It’s a few-hour drive… For how long are you going?”
“Few days. I’ll be back next weekend.”
“And work?”
“I’ll work from there,” he shrugged, taking the travel bag from the wardrobe. He turned to you, only to see tears streaming down your cheeks, suppressing sobs and the shiver that was going through your body. “Oh, don’t be such a crybaby, it’s only a few days.”
Really? He thought your tears were caused by him leaving? Well, partially, yes. But more in it was the fact that you couldn’t just bear it anymore.
He didn’t care for you, or your feelings. He didn’t even include your presence in his plans. Like you were just an addition to his life when it was good to have one. A burden that could be left home.
“It’s not that you’re leaving,” you whispered, having problems with speaking.
“Then what?”
“I think…”
“You think what? For god’s sake, speak louder…”
The air you caught in a deep breath burned your throat and lungs, “I think we should take a break.”
Suddenly, he stood there, looking thunderstruck, disbelieving what he just heard. “Take a break? Why? What are you talking about?”
“We should take a break,” you repeated. It puzzled you, how he didn’t see that one coming? After all this time… “I think there are major problems between us, and we should,” you wiped off your face, “we should take a break and both think where this relationship is heading.”
“Wait… This is a breakup?” For the first time, he looked concerned. Finally, he looked like he cared, after months of insensitivity. Even if you hoped there was still something to rebuild your relations, start over and be together like you used to be, you were afraid there will not be enough will to pick up the scraps and put them together. And you were not sure which one of you would give up first.
“No. This is ‘we need to think if we want to be together”, Kakashi.” You stood up from your chair, facing him, “can’t you see it? We’re falling apart. We were so in love, we spent almost every second together and now-”
“Well, I’m sorry I have work,” he interrupted, but turned back, beginning packing of his things for that leave.
The bitter laugh escaped your throat, “oh please cut that crap. You could have taken me yesterday with you!”
“Why should I take you? You would be bored anyway and would like to come back home earlier. You always do that to me-” Kakashi tried to somehow defend himself, but you interrupted him, close to grabbing the porcelain cup and throwing it at him.
“I always do that to you? Oh, I’m sorry, mister, it's important that I dare to exist in your world and breathe the same air!”
“Okay, you know what?” He huffed, throwing the bag on the ground and taking a step towards you. It has been some time since you have seen him this angry, with little mimic wrinkles all across his features, eyebrows knitted together, and that deep, fast breathing… “Good thing I’m going to my dad’s. At least you’ll have some time to think.”
“Oh be sure I will!”
“Good! Just remember to not leave me hanging, like you already once did!”
“Already once- That was years ago, and you still bring it up!” With an irritated exhale you sat back down on the chair. Was there a point in rebuilding it again? “Just go.”
“Yeah, I was going to, but you keep interrupting me with some nonsense,” his bag was almost full of clothes and personal belongings, almost ready to leave. All he needed more was a quick shower, a change of clothes, and he was ready to go. And just before he opened the doors, just before he left your apartment, he stopped to look at you. And you knew that one so well. The sadness in his eyes, the glimpses of guilt… Yet, you were not sure if they were real, or it was just an act to induce the guilty feeling in you. “Later,” he waved his hand, and left the apartment, without waiting for your answer.
“Yeah, later,” you echoed, speaking to the closed doors before you burst with a cry again.
***
It was coming close to 10 am when you finally stopped sobbing and got yourself to eat really anything. Just cold milk with some cereal, as you were not in the state to do something more sophisticated. This was enough to fill your stomach, so it would stop grumbling.
There was a lot to think about, a lot to reconsider. Huge decisions to be made, and courses you had to keep. But for now, you felt you needed someone to at least talk to, someone who would at least listen, and let you throw everything out from you. And there was one friend you knew you could count on, and he knew that there was something bad going around.
You unlocked your phone and picked the conversation with Obito from the list.
[Me]: Hey ugh…
[Me]: That dinner is still actual?
He read that one within a few seconds, but instead of typing back his answer, his phone number popped up on your screen.
“Of course, it is,” he started before you could say ‘hello’. He sounded concerned - and this was an honest friendly worry, “what happened?”
“Well…” There was no point in hiding anything. Probably Kakashi would tell him later anyway. “I told him that I don’t know where we are heading and we should take a break, and he said that it’s good he is going to his father, so I’ll have some time to think. We fought…” You quickly summarize the whole morning, trying to not leave any details out.
“Wow,” he sighed on the other side. “I just- I don’t know what to say (Y/n), really.”
“I wish I could know, what to say”
“What an asshole,” you could almost hear how he was gritting his teeth. Funny, how he automatically stood on your side. “Okay, but that means you have a few days free?”
“Well, he’ll be back next weekend.”
“Okay, and can you take a few days off at work?”
“Ummm,” well, this was a bit of a weird question to ask, but maybe… Well, you could use some rest, and work in a state, when you would scratch the fresh wounds, wouldn’t be the most productive state. “Yeah? I still have some overdue vacation days, and HR is really bugging me about it…”
“Your boss be okay with it?”
“Well, I’ll ask girls from HR to deal with it. They will know what to do.”
“Perfect. Don’t make any plans, I’ll be at your place in an hour, alright?”
Don’t make any plans, but I have one for you already. The plan was all about how to cheer you up and make you forget about problems at least for a moment. That was Obito, always eager to help, and ready to give his arms to cry. A friend you could truly count on. “Yeah, sure. I’ll call my HR then.”
Your manager was quite easy to reach - the poor guy was an insomniac, and not catching him on the phone was a miracle. He didn’t have anything against the unexpected leave - moreover, he said that you need some rest, and maybe you’ll take it finally. If you could speak with HR and convince them to do so, he was okay with that. Despite it being Saturday morning, one of the HR girls - Sakura was online, so you gave it a shot and called her with the vacation days matter. Maybe she wasn’t pleased with the early call and was at first hesitant to acknowledge your vacation without prior notice… But you did as your manager told you to deal with it - make some emotional story, and emphasize how this is vital for your productivity.
Well, you were already sniffing, and having a broken voice - you fold it down on some private, family problems. Well, that wasn’t far from the truth, after all, Kakashi and you were almost like family. Yeah, almost…
Surprisingly, it went fairly easy. The HR said she will pull some strings and arrange everything, so you should not worry, rest properly, and come back whenever you’re ready. You were very effusive, thanking her for that, and she apparently was pleased with your reaction, saying that it’s nothing, but you could hear the pride and self-satisfaction in her voice.
You managed to take a shower, and change your clothes, before Obito, of course being late, as always, rang your doors.
***
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An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Hello :D Day 19th is here, and I hope you are good on this gloomy Sunday. Christmas tree is made, gingerbread is being baked... So how about we dive into another Obito story? :D Hope you'll enjoy it! ♥️
Prompt: Snowman
Pairing: Obito Uchiha x fem!Reader
TW: College AU, friends to lovers, first kiss, fluff, little but if swearing, stupid earworm song :D
Word count: 2431
Summary: Studying for the exam was already hard and tiring, but you didn't expect that someone could distract you even more with an unusual offer.
Proofread by @wind-becomes-lightning, than you for your help!
And also @clearlyjustchlyri for helping with making a little cover of the song ;)
SFW, enjoy!
December welcomed you with an unbelievable amount of snow, and an insane amount of exams. Last year of your studies, last few months of learning, the torture of writing your master’s thesis, and hopefully you’ll leave this place with a master’s degree.
And speaking of exams, you just had to prepare for one tomorrow. The third hour passed, your back hurt like hell, and your eyes were already itchy from constantly looking at the screen and notes, re-writing the required material once again. Your wrist was sore begging for some break from holding the pen, even a small one. But you were already by the end of the section and it would surely reduce your productivity if you’d pause now.
But unfortunately, someone had a little bit different plan.
Your phone chimed, replaying the annoying jingle of a message incoming, distracting your focus and the remains of the attention you had.
The name on the screen didn’t surprise you at all - Obito was one of the classmates from the year and often asked you for your help in his studies. Maybe he was not the top one in class, but he had a will to learn and was quite nice to you, so it was enough for you to aid him.
[Obito]: (Y/n)?
[Me]: What’s up?
[Obito]: Do you wanna build a snowman?
[Obito]: C'mon, let's go and play
[Obito]: I never see you anymore
Well, this one made you genuinely smile. A friendly offer, utilizing the ear-worm song. Sadly, you had to decline the offer - firstly, it was late and dark already, secondly that exam was really important.
[Me]: Thanks, but I need to prepare for the exam
[Obito]: Okay, but~!
[Obito]: Do you wanna build a snowman?
[Obito]: It doesn't have to be a snowman…
[Me]: No, I really can’t go out now
[Me]: Sorry
[Obito]: Okay, bye…
[Obito]: :(
That was… surprising, given that Obito didn’t ask for any notes for tomorrow. He usually asked for the whole material you’d prepared and which sections would be most probable to be asked.
And you couldn’t lie, using that earworm song from a child movie was quite funny, and puzzling if Obito knew only the song or he watched the whole-
You shook off the thoughts that distracted you too much from your studies already. Coffee, you needed coffee desperately at this point. And a miracle to focus back on your work.
Luckily, your telephone sat silent for the rest of the evening.
***
Usually, in the morning the alarm was the one to wake you up with its sharp and annoying sound, breaking away from any blissful dream you had been having.
But this time, it wasn’t your alarm. It wasn’t a social media notification. It wasn’t a youtube video that you paused before you fell asleep and played it in the morning by accident. It was a ringtone and someone who tried to call you 5 minutes before your alarm was supposed to ring.
“Obito,” you let out a sleepy and displeased groan, answering the phone, “why do you call me at this ungodly hour?”
“I woke you up?”
“Yes.”
“Shit, I’m so sorry (Y/n)... Should I call later?”
“No,” you sat up on the bed, rubbing your eyes with one hand, “what happened? Something important that you call me by 6:55?”
“Nothing in particular,” he cheered into the mic, “have you seen the outside?”
“No, I just woke up,” annoyed and in desperate need of more caffeine circling in your veins as soon as possible, you had little tolerance to anything. “What’s outside?”
“Perfect weather for a building snowman!”
“And you wake me up, on Friday, just to tell me this?”
“Well…-”
“Oh for fucks sake…” you hung up, annoyed, not letting him finish.
And with the same exasperation, you went for the exam, almost sure that your chances to pass it with the top score were close to 0. You were sure the main cause of it was the fact that you’d studied to a very late hour. Too late hours of sleep were not enough for your tired brain, and no amount of coffee or energy drinks could fix it.
And the fact that you were angry from the very start of the day had only been added by the unwanted early phone call.
But, at least there was nothing that could make your day worse, right? Well if you wouldn’t be wrong, it would be great.
You were sure that you put your phone on silent mode, you’d swear it. Yet, in the middle of the exam, and of course, the moment the professor was near your desk, lurking at your work, the device in your pocket had to chime. It wouldn’t have been a problem if it happened once. Or even twice.
But that stupid message jingle echoed through the room 8 times. 8-fucking-times, making every eye pair present look in your direction, making you nervous and embarrassed on a whole new level.
Like you were suddenly forced to act in front of everyone and had only five minutes to learn a whole page of texts.
Was getting your phone taken by the professor, for the rest of the whole exam, the worst thing? Not really. Much worse was the talk after, with witnesses in the form of the other attendants, about how cheating wasn’t profitable in many more aspects of life, not only in an exam.
So if you thought that this day couldn’t get worse - well, that escalated quickly.
Although, you didn’t even check who it was, trying to get your attention. You knew, you just knew.
Storming through the halls, having people step away at seeing your face, you found him after a few minutes. Sitting with headphones on his head listening to music. At first, he smiled when he noticed you, but that one faded away rather quickly seeing the anger in your eyes.
“What the heck?!” you almost screamed, dragging the attention of people around. “I had an exam, and you knew about it! If I’ll only have a grade decrease, I will be lucky!”
“Okay,” and just now he realized what he had done. “I’m sorry…-”
“Yes!” You wanted to scream at him more, but the sudden change of his mood, sudden unexpected pain in his eyes beat you off track. “Just… Don’t do it? Okay? Especially during an exam.”
“Okay, I won’t anymore. I’m sorry to bug you, I got fixated on that absurd thing.”
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t blow up like that,” you sighed, feeling worse with every word of his.
“No, no. You have all the right to do it. I’m not mad or anything, you are right here.”
“Okay, okay… So…” You wanted to say something, to ease the mood a little, but someone nudged Obito’s arm by accident, making him drop the stack of papers he had in his hand, scattering them around. Like a good friend, you jumped to help, only to get sheerly stunned. “Obito these are notes for tomorrow’s exam, but- It’s your writing? You did it by yourself?”
“Look… For some time I’ve managed to make notes by myself, and learn from them quite well. I just… I asked you for notes because I still wanted to have a reason to see you, and talk to you,” he sighed like he just dropped a huge weight off his chest, yet it didn’t make him feel any better. “You have no idea what it took for me to ask you to go to… Build that idiotic snowman. I’m sorry that I bothered you.”
He was about to turn around and go, but you grabbed his wrist and held him in place. The curiosity had grown inside you, the guilt that you screamed at him, and the possibility that you missed some kind of a sign from him was also strong, stinging you in your chest.
“Why were you asking me to build that snowman? The way you said it… Obito, what did you mean?”
“Isn’t it obvious?”
“I have my theories. But I want to hear from you.”
“Fine. I wanted to ask you out, okay? Like, a… Date,” he yanked your hand away and turned, avoiding your eyes at all cost.
“Why didn't you just say?”
“Because I wanted just… to see if you’re interested. And if not, keep it as a friendly, non-binding meeting, still having you around and just enjoy that until the college would- soon end… But, well. Seems like it was a stupid idea. I’ll see you- sometime,” and with that he left, walking swiftly, maneuvering between the other people that threw curious stares.
And you were sure the man started crying the moment he turned his back on you.
***
The day was heading to an end and the only thing that you were able to do was to lay down in your bed, wondering if things could have gone differently, if you’d acted calmer, if the first thing you had done wouldn’t have been getting pissed off at him.
Well, you had your reasons. But what he said got you thinking - he really did spend a lot of time around you, whatever the excuse was. Sometimes without excuse even, when it just happened that you met outside the dorm or classes. And well… You had missed the very obvious signs that had been there for months.
Obito was a good friend, a trustworthy one, but it never occurred to you that he maybe wanted something more.
Would a date with him be that bad? Or even a relationship? He was always nice to you, and probably that’s why he never tried to do “the move”. He could easily be at the top of your class - he was smart, just not focused on the right things. Tall, handsome, funny… Surprisingly, mainly to yourself, you could go on.
Now it got you thinking how it would be, the festival of considering every possible outcome of this situation in your head had begun. All good and bad, every “yes”, “no” and “what if” were running through your head with the speed of light showing you images from not speaking to you anymore up to the point where… well, you should stop yourself at the “established relationship” part, before you’d start to overthink it hard.
Yet, the “good” and “yes” things were overwhelming, making you soft somewhere inside, and even smile when you thought about the possibility of going out together, holding hands, and doing whatever couples would…-
Well, that settled it. You reached for your phone, disappointment stung you unpleasantly somewhere in your guts that there were no messages whatsoever, but instead of giving in the feeling you opened the messaging app and chose his name from the list.
[Me]: Obito?
The answer came… Very quickly. Was he waiting for it?
[Obito]: Yeah?
[Me]: Ask me for a date, not if I’d like to build a snowman
[Obito]: Wait what
[Obito]: I mean
[Obito]: Just… Ask you? Just like “hey you wanna go out?”
[Me]: Well, you can get creative if you want
[Obito]: Okay, hold on
[Obito]: I have an idea
[Obito]: It will take a while I need to type it all
[Me]: I’m not going anywhere
[Obito]: Do you wanna go on a date?
Plain and simple. But the jumping dots indicated that there was more to receive.
[Obito]: I promise it will be fun
[Obito]: We'll be hanging out like we're just friends
[Obito]: But we'll be holding hands
[Obito]: And won't stop until we're done
[Obito]: I really, really like you
[Obito]: It's plain to see
[Obito]: You don't have to even guess
[Obito]: Do you wanna go on a date?
[Obito]: Even if it's only one date...
[Obito]: Please say yes…
Well, that was… unexpected, but funny and somehow charming. Kudos to the creativity as he climbed to the pinnacle of it, changing the irritating, earwormy song from a kid’s movie into an actual cute thing. And of course, in your head, you read it to the melody of that cursed tune.
[Me]: Oh wow
[Obito]: Too much again?
[Me]: I mean, I said creative, but this one
[Me]: Wow
[Me]: Expectations exceeded
[Me]: How can I refuse you now? ;)
[Obito]: Well, you can if you don’t want to
[Me]: Obito
[Me]: I just said that I will go
[Me]: You don’t need to search for the second-bottom :)
[Me]: When and where?
[Obito]: There is a lot of fresh snow tonight
[Obito]: We could… Like in 20 minutes, I’ll pick you up?
[Me]: Sounds good!
[Me]: I’ll be waiting :)
[Obito]: Not for long :)
For the first time in the years that you had known Obito, he wasn’t late, being there much earlier than the promised time. Standing at your door, wrapped loosely in his scarf and winter jacket, panting like he was fighting for every breath; his cheeks were pink from frost and some snowflakes that had not yet melted, were still visible in his black hair.
“Obito?” You gasped, seeing him in a state like that, standing in your opened door.
“I just- I wanted- Not to- Be late-” he panted out, sentence broken by loud gasps like he was fighting for air.
“Hey, hey. Easy there, Obito. Breathe,” gently, your hands grabbed his jacket intending to guide him to the chair in your room, “you want to come in and sit down?”
“No, no. I’m good-” He smiled, showing you a sow of white teeth. “Ready?”
“Yes, we can go,” you nodded, still concerned seeing how he was fighting to take every other breath. He really must’ve run as fast as his body allowed him to, “but please, catch your breath first.”
He raised his eyebrows and snickered, “and waste time? Are you kidding?”
“You don’t want to waste time, huh?” Mimicking the eyebrow move you asked, teasing a little, hoping that he’d catch a… suggestion you had in mind. Not wasting any time, to kiss each other, already too impatient to wait.
“Not a second,” he moved closer, cupping your cheeks in his hands, while his eyes stuck on yours studying every little glimpse like he was trying to read your mind, digging into your soul.
If anyone would ask you who was the first to break - did he lean in, pulling you to kiss, or if you stood on your tiptoes and sealed your lips - you both would point to the other, thanking each other in the depths of your hearts and souls that the other had the courage and didn’t waste any more time.
***
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