Naruto [Kakashi/Obito/Rin] Starman
Theme: #4/SURPRISES
Fandom/Pairing: NARUTO / KAKAOBIRIN
Title: STARMAN
Author: NATE
Rating: PG13
Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN NARUTO OR THE SONG STARMAN BY DAVID BOWIE. bitches.
Note: PART ONE OF SEVERAL. INSPIRED BY this log from no_air, particularly the whole idea of the Kakashi/Ayame interaction. Also, VERY LITTLE checking of errors, less than usual. Point them out if you see them to save me time later on, if you like ^^
STARMAN
Part One
Obito brought up his jacket collar, trying to shield his face from the biting cold that was assaulting his face. He hated walking home in windy weather like this, where everything seemed bleak and blurred because of the tears in his eyes. You couldn’t walk the streets anymore without finding yourself crying, it seemed.
“Don’t know what time it was, the lights were low-oh-oh,” the voice drawled in a low, almost bored way. Obito wasn’t unused to these sorts of noises on the streets at this time; there were always people with the desire for easy money, so they’d pluck at their guitars and warble out some odd lyrics. This was different.
The words slipped out confidently from his lips, like he were just expressing himself rather than reciting. His voice continued calmly, “I lean back on my radio-oh-oh,” as his eyes seemed the travel lethargically from person to person. When Obito stopped, he wasn’t the only one. There was a small congregation of people surrounding the singing guitarist, watching his mouth and fingers in perfect harmony. All of them stood transfixed, under the spell of a magician.
“Starman, waiting in the sky. He’d like to come and meet us, but he thinks he’d blow our minds . . .”
He didn’t want to watch this man, feeling his jealousy evened out by the mere awe he felt at the complete ease he emitted. His own bass was half-unused in his room, leaned against the side of his closet collecting dust. When the song ended, the crowd remained silent, without even a clap of appreciation. They fully expected more, more magic weaved to help them forget their sad little lives a little while longer.
The magician only leaned over to flick the switch on his amp off and began to unplug his guitar. A woman then emerged from the crowd, her blonde hair hanging limply and her eyes red and glazed. Still, she did her task whole-heartedly, gathering the extension cord that led into the inside of a store to her, like a bright orange umbilical cord. She cradled the wound cord in her arms as she stumbled through the door and disappeared.
The man paid her no mind.
Most people had gotten the message by this point, and had scattered, returning to the path they had briefly paused on to listen to a man sing about the stars. Obito didn’t move, though, and he noticed one other woman didn’t either. Her hair was fiery and wild, the wind blowing and it this way an that so that her face was as mysterious as if she’d been wearing a mask. He began to feel foolish, though, standing there like some loyal fan awaiting recognition.
He heard her speak as soon as he turned to go, and he stopped short. “Kakashi? Hayate Kakashi?” she said in a soft, halting voice. “Um, I don’t know if you remember me, but I’m Takano Rin. From high school.”
Obito spun around to look at both of them, glad that neither of them had seemed to notice him. The guitarist paused in his work, and glanced up at the redhead with shielded eyes. “Rin, huh?” he replied noncommittally, and seemed to be evaluating her silently. Obito saw her fidget slightly in his direct gaze, but she didn’t do anything to cover herself, like crossing her arms or slouching over.
“You remember me?” the guitarist, Kakashi, replied finally, going back to what he’d been doing before she’d interrupted. He made it seem as if he weren’t listening, but when the woman continued, his fingers slowed as if to concentrate on her words.
“Of could I do! Your voice, I mean, it reminded me. You’ve changed so much I don’t think I would have recognized you otherwise. Your voice, on the other hand, is exactly the same. Raspier, maybe.” She stepped closer to him, and became noticeably more comfortable.
She’d changed too, Obito thought to himself. She’d always been a calm girl. She’d had her own ideas, but had rarely expressed them, inclined to keep to herself for the most part.
Except for in the Music Club.
It was such a pathetic name, and even when they’d been a part of it, they’d known it. The Breakfast Club, much? The sad result of too many 80s movies and too little social life.
Still, everyone had been a different person in that small band room that smelled so strongly of B.O. Kakashi, for one, had been that arrogant son of a bitch senior that Obito had hated on sight only because he’d wanted to be him so badly. Everyone knew he was practically perfect, with his goddamed messy good looks and his intelligence. He hadn’t played sports, but only because he didn’t want to. He wasn’t in band because playing his own gigs took up too much time.
He was a one-man show. What he was doing at the Music Club was anyone’s guess.
Rin had been the typical chick there. She'd had the slight motivation for actually playing music, but her tastes had probably run more towards listening to others play it. The Music Club was just one more title on her college application.
And who had he been? He’d been the guy there to show off the few chords he knew, and hopefully pick up some chicks.
How they’d done what they’d had was surprising as hell. They hadn’t even known each other beforehand, even though all three of them had gone to the same school since they were sophomores, and Rin had come to Obito’s middle school in seventh.
“It’s been a good seven years,” Kakashi explained simply, his eyes still downcast and intent on his guitar. Kakashi really hadn’t changed much, had he? He still wore his face like a mask, hiding everything that was Kakashi from the outside world. He still spoke so directly and yet there were few things more subtle than Kakashi’s meanings.
“Yeah,” Rin murmured, her gaze following his. She watched him lift the guitar and slip it neatly in its case. Obito noticed with surprise that Rin wasn’t the only one.
The blonde had come out from store, who knew how long before. She hadn’t said anything to Kakashi yet, her eyes locked onto prematurely grayed locks and that limber frame he hadn’t lost. Even now, Kakashi still got all the chicks. For some reason he wasn’t as envious of that as he had been in high school. Had little Uchiha Obito grown up, too?
Or was he just too apathetic by this time to care about some stupid high school rivalry? Either way it was a change, he supposed.
“You’re still an asshole, y’know that?” Obito called out suddenly, and the two of them turned their heads to look at him. The blonde pressing herself against the show window of the store only glanced in his direction.
“Obito?” Rin whispered, while Kakashi’s questions were only expressed through his slight frown.
“Yeah,” he responded and swaggered over to plop himself down on Kakashi’s amp. It was an immediate invasion of personal space. That was such an Obito thing to do. “Your girlfriend’s back, by the way.”
He pushed some of that thick hair away from his face, and glanced over his shoulder. The woman stared back with wide eyes, but she didn’t say anything. Then Kakashi eyes turned to Obito, and he was shocked by how cold they looked. Dead. Fish floating on the surface, eye pointed to the ceiling.
“She’s not my girlfriend,” was his reply, and his tone was as emotionless as his eyes. Obito lifted his gaze to glance over at Rin questioningly, and she met it with her own perplexed expression. Good, so he wasn’t the only one in this boat.
The words were on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn’t just say them. It wouldn’t do to so frankly question his relationship with the girl without knowing how either of them might react. For all he knew she could be his step-daughter or something. Who knew what kind of life Kakashi led now?
Rin also seemed to be generally lost for words, also. Her eyes fell on the blonde girl after several seconds of lingering on this near-stranger as if he was going to answer. “What’s your name?” she asked in a overly kind voice, taking a few steps towards her.
The answer came after a long hesitation. She bit her lip ungracefully, and seemed unsure of herself. Did she not know her own name? There was this generally odd air about her, like she was constant reverting back and forth from her world and Kakashi’s. “Ayame.”
Rin gave her this smile that Obito remembered clearly from high school. It was the first thing he ever remembered seeing on her face; a pitying smile. It was the first thing she had sent his way. “Well, Obito and I are . . . we knew Kakashi in high school.”
“We played that song once,” Obito added in an undertone, staring right at that self-alienated man, daring him to glance up and meet his gaze. He did so effortlessly, dark eyes glaring at reflections of each other.
“Oh!” Rin cried suddenly, and spun to face Obito in all her wide eyed splendor. “Do you still play bass, Obito? I sing sometimes for my friend’s band, as background. I mean, I don’t actually make a living out of that, who really can?” She was all smiles and faked enthusiasm. He just wanted to grip her shoulders and tell her to calm down. Tell her to stop faking it.
Hadn’t they gotten past that?
It had been that phony attitude of hers that had first brought them together. Her crush on Kakashi had been so obvious, but
“I really don’t have time for it anymore,” he muttered, looking past her at the tittering neon lights in the store window. We buy use-e-e-e-ed CDs, it told him.
no one had ever known the mystifying Kakashi to have had a girlfriend. In fact, no one really knew him. That was part of his intrigue, really. If his life had been easy to read, he might have just faded into the background.
“Oh.” Her voice was low, hitting those notes that had sent chills up spines. There were girls that could force themselves up that scale, higher and higher until the windows shook, but Rin had never been one of them. That had been her intrigue. When she wasn’t making herself hit those high feminine octaves, she could pass for a man, if you weren’t paying enough attention.
There had been no greater pleasure than the one that flooded their minds when Rin had whispered their names in that husky voice, her lips swollen and her wild, tangled hair matted down with sweat. Her voice separated her from the masses, helped them pick her out from a crowd in an instant.
“Rin.” He stood suddenly, and faced the woman excitedly. Then, almost as an afterthought, “Kakashi. And you, Ayame. I’m free all evening, so why not have a nice little catch-up session, right?” He shot her his best grin, complete with dimples and a small cock of an eyebrow. He hoped to whatever god that she would say yes.
And that Kakashi would find his own legitimate excuse for not tagging along. Maybe some of that jealousy and dissatisfaction with himself was left over still from high school…
Rin bit her lip between slightly yellowed teeth, and Obito’s heart fell. He knew the answer before she even opened her mouth to speak. “I’m heading to work right now, but how ‘bout the three of you go ahead. Erm, let me…”she paused as she began rummaging into the bag hanging loosely from her right shoulder. The sound of papers shuffling and plastic clink clanging inside of the bag was prevalent until she finally pulled out her desired object. “…get a pen.” Then she stepped closer to the dark-haired man, reaching over and taking his hand in hers.
Did she notice how much he was sweating? Could she hear that thud in his ears as she touched him? Everything about her was reawakening memories he’d never wanted to relive. That brush of hair as she leaned over to write something on his hand. That pale glimpse of wrist from underneath her jacket.
“That’s my number. My friend’s number. I’m staying with her for a few days. Just give me a call.” Then her hands let go of his, and he missed them, but only until she wrapped her arms around his torso and pulled him to her. There she was, pressed chastely against him, but his eyes were locked on Kakashi.
He looked jealous. Jealous of Obito, who had had nothing while he’d had everything.
She pulled away and went over to Kakashi to give him a hug also. Obito watched them, and felt a wave of pride when he realized that she gave Kakashi a much shorter one than she’d given him. Maybe that had something to do with Ayame, whose eyes were still locked on
“He’d like to come and meet us, but he thinks he’d blow our minds.” Obito watched that cocky bastard sing, with the room following his every twitch with their eyes. He wanted people to see him like they did the other boy. He wanted to be loved for what he was.
on those slouched shoulders. He didn’t want to think about how Rin might have bid Kakashi farewell if Ayame hadn’t been part of the picture.
Then all there was of left of Rin was that lingering sensation of skin against skin, her body against theirs. The two males gazed at each other warily, knowing the other saw him as a threat, but unsure as to why.
“Ayame, you can get home by yourself?” Kakashi asked Ayame, his gaze flickering over her quickly, like he was unable to keep his eyes on her too long. If you stare too long at the sun, you’ll go blind.
You couldn’t miss that lost, yearning look in her eyes, glance or otherwise. It was so palpable that the burning hurt. Still, her rasping voice let out a soft, “Yeah,” and she clung to the extension cord desperately.
Kakashi didn’t say goodbye, he just stood up and slung the guitar case over his shoulder. The amp lay there on the ground, and Obito just looked at it. Was he going to drag it around with them, too?
Ayame answered his question by picking it up. He was surprised she could manage it with that too-thin frame of hers. Her fingers turned white as she gripped the handle tightly, refusing to let it go despite its every desire to fall.
Kakashi’s back was turned to them, but it was obvious he knew that Obito wasn’t following him. “You’re gonna make her carry that thing home for you?” he growled at this man he’d thought he’d known better.
He didn’t turn, but he spoke, his words nearly lost on the wind of the evening. “She’d feel worse if I told her to go home without it.”
Obito thought about that slowly, processing each word and sound of Kakashi’s separately. He’d learnt that skill back in high school, and despite being a bit rusty, seemed to work fairly well. So he cared for her, did he? Or was that just convenient denial that allowed him to think that she wanted to do him favors like this?
Still, he knew it wasn’t his place to say anything. Not really. He watched the woman as she walked off, always tilted precariously to the left as if she would just tumble over onto the floor at any second. Silent and unmoving, but judging.
When he turns back to Kakashi, he finds that the tall, lanky man is half a block down already, and not looking like he’ll be willing to slow his pace for Obito. Some things change, grow old and molder, while others retain their essence always.
Obito runs after, yelling ineffectually for the guitarist to slow the hell down.
Fandom/Pairing: NARUTO / KAKAOBIRIN
Title: STARMAN
Author: NATE
Rating: PG13
Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN NARUTO OR THE SONG STARMAN BY DAVID BOWIE. bitches.
Note: PART ONE OF SEVERAL. INSPIRED BY this log from no_air, particularly the whole idea of the Kakashi/Ayame interaction. Also, VERY LITTLE checking of errors, less than usual. Point them out if you see them to save me time later on, if you like ^^
STARMAN
Part One
Obito brought up his jacket collar, trying to shield his face from the biting cold that was assaulting his face. He hated walking home in windy weather like this, where everything seemed bleak and blurred because of the tears in his eyes. You couldn’t walk the streets anymore without finding yourself crying, it seemed.
“Don’t know what time it was, the lights were low-oh-oh,” the voice drawled in a low, almost bored way. Obito wasn’t unused to these sorts of noises on the streets at this time; there were always people with the desire for easy money, so they’d pluck at their guitars and warble out some odd lyrics. This was different.
The words slipped out confidently from his lips, like he were just expressing himself rather than reciting. His voice continued calmly, “I lean back on my radio-oh-oh,” as his eyes seemed the travel lethargically from person to person. When Obito stopped, he wasn’t the only one. There was a small congregation of people surrounding the singing guitarist, watching his mouth and fingers in perfect harmony. All of them stood transfixed, under the spell of a magician.
“Starman, waiting in the sky. He’d like to come and meet us, but he thinks he’d blow our minds . . .”
He didn’t want to watch this man, feeling his jealousy evened out by the mere awe he felt at the complete ease he emitted. His own bass was half-unused in his room, leaned against the side of his closet collecting dust. When the song ended, the crowd remained silent, without even a clap of appreciation. They fully expected more, more magic weaved to help them forget their sad little lives a little while longer.
The magician only leaned over to flick the switch on his amp off and began to unplug his guitar. A woman then emerged from the crowd, her blonde hair hanging limply and her eyes red and glazed. Still, she did her task whole-heartedly, gathering the extension cord that led into the inside of a store to her, like a bright orange umbilical cord. She cradled the wound cord in her arms as she stumbled through the door and disappeared.
The man paid her no mind.
Most people had gotten the message by this point, and had scattered, returning to the path they had briefly paused on to listen to a man sing about the stars. Obito didn’t move, though, and he noticed one other woman didn’t either. Her hair was fiery and wild, the wind blowing and it this way an that so that her face was as mysterious as if she’d been wearing a mask. He began to feel foolish, though, standing there like some loyal fan awaiting recognition.
He heard her speak as soon as he turned to go, and he stopped short. “Kakashi? Hayate Kakashi?” she said in a soft, halting voice. “Um, I don’t know if you remember me, but I’m Takano Rin. From high school.”
Obito spun around to look at both of them, glad that neither of them had seemed to notice him. The guitarist paused in his work, and glanced up at the redhead with shielded eyes. “Rin, huh?” he replied noncommittally, and seemed to be evaluating her silently. Obito saw her fidget slightly in his direct gaze, but she didn’t do anything to cover herself, like crossing her arms or slouching over.
“You remember me?” the guitarist, Kakashi, replied finally, going back to what he’d been doing before she’d interrupted. He made it seem as if he weren’t listening, but when the woman continued, his fingers slowed as if to concentrate on her words.
“Of could I do! Your voice, I mean, it reminded me. You’ve changed so much I don’t think I would have recognized you otherwise. Your voice, on the other hand, is exactly the same. Raspier, maybe.” She stepped closer to him, and became noticeably more comfortable.
She’d changed too, Obito thought to himself. She’d always been a calm girl. She’d had her own ideas, but had rarely expressed them, inclined to keep to herself for the most part.
Except for in the Music Club.
It was such a pathetic name, and even when they’d been a part of it, they’d known it. The Breakfast Club, much? The sad result of too many 80s movies and too little social life.
Still, everyone had been a different person in that small band room that smelled so strongly of B.O. Kakashi, for one, had been that arrogant son of a bitch senior that Obito had hated on sight only because he’d wanted to be him so badly. Everyone knew he was practically perfect, with his goddamed messy good looks and his intelligence. He hadn’t played sports, but only because he didn’t want to. He wasn’t in band because playing his own gigs took up too much time.
He was a one-man show. What he was doing at the Music Club was anyone’s guess.
Rin had been the typical chick there. She'd had the slight motivation for actually playing music, but her tastes had probably run more towards listening to others play it. The Music Club was just one more title on her college application.
And who had he been? He’d been the guy there to show off the few chords he knew, and hopefully pick up some chicks.
How they’d done what they’d had was surprising as hell. They hadn’t even known each other beforehand, even though all three of them had gone to the same school since they were sophomores, and Rin had come to Obito’s middle school in seventh.
“It’s been a good seven years,” Kakashi explained simply, his eyes still downcast and intent on his guitar. Kakashi really hadn’t changed much, had he? He still wore his face like a mask, hiding everything that was Kakashi from the outside world. He still spoke so directly and yet there were few things more subtle than Kakashi’s meanings.
“Yeah,” Rin murmured, her gaze following his. She watched him lift the guitar and slip it neatly in its case. Obito noticed with surprise that Rin wasn’t the only one.
The blonde had come out from store, who knew how long before. She hadn’t said anything to Kakashi yet, her eyes locked onto prematurely grayed locks and that limber frame he hadn’t lost. Even now, Kakashi still got all the chicks. For some reason he wasn’t as envious of that as he had been in high school. Had little Uchiha Obito grown up, too?
Or was he just too apathetic by this time to care about some stupid high school rivalry? Either way it was a change, he supposed.
“You’re still an asshole, y’know that?” Obito called out suddenly, and the two of them turned their heads to look at him. The blonde pressing herself against the show window of the store only glanced in his direction.
“Obito?” Rin whispered, while Kakashi’s questions were only expressed through his slight frown.
“Yeah,” he responded and swaggered over to plop himself down on Kakashi’s amp. It was an immediate invasion of personal space. That was such an Obito thing to do. “Your girlfriend’s back, by the way.”
He pushed some of that thick hair away from his face, and glanced over his shoulder. The woman stared back with wide eyes, but she didn’t say anything. Then Kakashi eyes turned to Obito, and he was shocked by how cold they looked. Dead. Fish floating on the surface, eye pointed to the ceiling.
“She’s not my girlfriend,” was his reply, and his tone was as emotionless as his eyes. Obito lifted his gaze to glance over at Rin questioningly, and she met it with her own perplexed expression. Good, so he wasn’t the only one in this boat.
The words were on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn’t just say them. It wouldn’t do to so frankly question his relationship with the girl without knowing how either of them might react. For all he knew she could be his step-daughter or something. Who knew what kind of life Kakashi led now?
Rin also seemed to be generally lost for words, also. Her eyes fell on the blonde girl after several seconds of lingering on this near-stranger as if he was going to answer. “What’s your name?” she asked in a overly kind voice, taking a few steps towards her.
The answer came after a long hesitation. She bit her lip ungracefully, and seemed unsure of herself. Did she not know her own name? There was this generally odd air about her, like she was constant reverting back and forth from her world and Kakashi’s. “Ayame.”
Rin gave her this smile that Obito remembered clearly from high school. It was the first thing he ever remembered seeing on her face; a pitying smile. It was the first thing she had sent his way. “Well, Obito and I are . . . we knew Kakashi in high school.”
“We played that song once,” Obito added in an undertone, staring right at that self-alienated man, daring him to glance up and meet his gaze. He did so effortlessly, dark eyes glaring at reflections of each other.
“Oh!” Rin cried suddenly, and spun to face Obito in all her wide eyed splendor. “Do you still play bass, Obito? I sing sometimes for my friend’s band, as background. I mean, I don’t actually make a living out of that, who really can?” She was all smiles and faked enthusiasm. He just wanted to grip her shoulders and tell her to calm down. Tell her to stop faking it.
Hadn’t they gotten past that?
It had been that phony attitude of hers that had first brought them together. Her crush on Kakashi had been so obvious, but
“I really don’t have time for it anymore,” he muttered, looking past her at the tittering neon lights in the store window. We buy use-e-e-e-ed CDs, it told him.
no one had ever known the mystifying Kakashi to have had a girlfriend. In fact, no one really knew him. That was part of his intrigue, really. If his life had been easy to read, he might have just faded into the background.
“Oh.” Her voice was low, hitting those notes that had sent chills up spines. There were girls that could force themselves up that scale, higher and higher until the windows shook, but Rin had never been one of them. That had been her intrigue. When she wasn’t making herself hit those high feminine octaves, she could pass for a man, if you weren’t paying enough attention.
There had been no greater pleasure than the one that flooded their minds when Rin had whispered their names in that husky voice, her lips swollen and her wild, tangled hair matted down with sweat. Her voice separated her from the masses, helped them pick her out from a crowd in an instant.
“Rin.” He stood suddenly, and faced the woman excitedly. Then, almost as an afterthought, “Kakashi. And you, Ayame. I’m free all evening, so why not have a nice little catch-up session, right?” He shot her his best grin, complete with dimples and a small cock of an eyebrow. He hoped to whatever god that she would say yes.
And that Kakashi would find his own legitimate excuse for not tagging along. Maybe some of that jealousy and dissatisfaction with himself was left over still from high school…
Rin bit her lip between slightly yellowed teeth, and Obito’s heart fell. He knew the answer before she even opened her mouth to speak. “I’m heading to work right now, but how ‘bout the three of you go ahead. Erm, let me…”she paused as she began rummaging into the bag hanging loosely from her right shoulder. The sound of papers shuffling and plastic clink clanging inside of the bag was prevalent until she finally pulled out her desired object. “…get a pen.” Then she stepped closer to the dark-haired man, reaching over and taking his hand in hers.
Did she notice how much he was sweating? Could she hear that thud in his ears as she touched him? Everything about her was reawakening memories he’d never wanted to relive. That brush of hair as she leaned over to write something on his hand. That pale glimpse of wrist from underneath her jacket.
“That’s my number. My friend’s number. I’m staying with her for a few days. Just give me a call.” Then her hands let go of his, and he missed them, but only until she wrapped her arms around his torso and pulled him to her. There she was, pressed chastely against him, but his eyes were locked on Kakashi.
He looked jealous. Jealous of Obito, who had had nothing while he’d had everything.
She pulled away and went over to Kakashi to give him a hug also. Obito watched them, and felt a wave of pride when he realized that she gave Kakashi a much shorter one than she’d given him. Maybe that had something to do with Ayame, whose eyes were still locked on
“He’d like to come and meet us, but he thinks he’d blow our minds.” Obito watched that cocky bastard sing, with the room following his every twitch with their eyes. He wanted people to see him like they did the other boy. He wanted to be loved for what he was.
on those slouched shoulders. He didn’t want to think about how Rin might have bid Kakashi farewell if Ayame hadn’t been part of the picture.
Then all there was of left of Rin was that lingering sensation of skin against skin, her body against theirs. The two males gazed at each other warily, knowing the other saw him as a threat, but unsure as to why.
“Ayame, you can get home by yourself?” Kakashi asked Ayame, his gaze flickering over her quickly, like he was unable to keep his eyes on her too long. If you stare too long at the sun, you’ll go blind.
You couldn’t miss that lost, yearning look in her eyes, glance or otherwise. It was so palpable that the burning hurt. Still, her rasping voice let out a soft, “Yeah,” and she clung to the extension cord desperately.
Kakashi didn’t say goodbye, he just stood up and slung the guitar case over his shoulder. The amp lay there on the ground, and Obito just looked at it. Was he going to drag it around with them, too?
Ayame answered his question by picking it up. He was surprised she could manage it with that too-thin frame of hers. Her fingers turned white as she gripped the handle tightly, refusing to let it go despite its every desire to fall.
Kakashi’s back was turned to them, but it was obvious he knew that Obito wasn’t following him. “You’re gonna make her carry that thing home for you?” he growled at this man he’d thought he’d known better.
He didn’t turn, but he spoke, his words nearly lost on the wind of the evening. “She’d feel worse if I told her to go home without it.”
Obito thought about that slowly, processing each word and sound of Kakashi’s separately. He’d learnt that skill back in high school, and despite being a bit rusty, seemed to work fairly well. So he cared for her, did he? Or was that just convenient denial that allowed him to think that she wanted to do him favors like this?
Still, he knew it wasn’t his place to say anything. Not really. He watched the woman as she walked off, always tilted precariously to the left as if she would just tumble over onto the floor at any second. Silent and unmoving, but judging.
When he turns back to Kakashi, he finds that the tall, lanky man is half a block down already, and not looking like he’ll be willing to slow his pace for Obito. Some things change, grow old and molder, while others retain their essence always.
Obito runs after, yelling ineffectually for the guitarist to slow the hell down.