For TobiDei Week 2018 - Day 4. I texted the wrong number, you humored me and now we're getting along too well.
Obito sighs when he steps into his apartment. He turns around to shut the door, sliding the lock into place. He takes off his shoes at the entrance before he steps onto the flooring, glancing down at his phone.
"Nice work today," Madara had sent him a message while he was on his way home. "The old man filed a report on you saying that you're a lousy cop who won't chase after kids."
He stifles a scoff and puts his keys down on the dinner table, shucking off his jacket along the way. He heads straight into the kitchen, not even bothering to turn on the light. He opens the fridge and glances around to see if there are any leftovers.
There aren't.
He goes to the cupboard instead, grabbing a cup noodle from a little pyramid he made and digs his nail into the plastic, ripping it open.
As he does all of this – preparing the instant meal – he types a response.
"Chasing after kids sounds like it's a bad thing for a cop to do."
"L.O.L.!"
God, he hates texting old people.
"I'm granting you two extra holidays," Madara sends. "Paid."
He suddenly has no opinion on the ages of people he texts.
"Thanks, sir," he responds.
He locks his phone when the water finishes boiling. Obito places it on the counter and peels the lid open slightly, pouring the hot water into the cup. He grabs a pair of chopsticks from the drawer and places it on top, pressing the lid down, and carries the entire thing to the living room.
Obito switches on the light and puts the cup on the coffee table. He reaches for his remote and turns the TV on.
There's nothing interesting on the news that he hasn't heard of before in the station. He breathes out heavily.
Three minutes later, he reaches for his cup and begins to dig in.
Obito glances at the time – nine – and switches the channel to watch a game show.
His life has become such a boring routine, he thinks to himself as he drinks the broth. He would finish the meal and toss the cup away, wash the chopsticks, and then take a shower. After the shower, he'll probably read three more pages of that stupid horror book he picked up last week and then head to bed before twelve.
Predictable.
He wishes something would change.
As if on cue, out of the corner of his eye, he sees his phone screen light up in the darkened kitchen.
He forgot it on the counter.
Obito quickly finishes the broth – oh, how unhealthy, he hears his grandmother's voice chide him – and stands to head to the kitchen. The TV is loud enough for him to still hear the program as he steps into the other room, tossing the cup away and placing the chopsticks into the sink.
He glances at his phone.
At first, the green app icon of the notification makes him think that it's his supervisor texting him again – but when he pays attention to the name, he realizes that it's from an unknown number who had chosen a bomb emoji as their display name.
Interesting.
He quickly rinses the chopsticks and reaches for his phone. He leans his entire weight on the counter as he unlocks the phone.
"Bitch, why'd you change your number again?" the bomb emoji had sent. The person is still typing. "I had to get it from Akatsuchi, haha."
Obito goes to his fridge and rummages for a drink. He unscrews the cap and takes a sip as he continues watching the screen.
"Anyway, you won't believe what happened to me today!"
Is this what it feels like to get a wrong number text? Obito has always thought it was a myth to get wrong number texts only because it never really happens to him, or to anyone around him.
"Bitch, tell me," Obito replies, deciding to play along. He hopes he's doing this right. This person sounds young and Obito is painfully aware of the constant change of young people lingo.
"Okay, okay," the person sends. Right, they're not suspecting anything. He's doing it right. "So I was painting today, right? In that fucking neighborhood."
No way.
"This fucking cop comes over and then he just starts talking to me."
There's no way.
"No way," he decides to send.
"Right?" the person – it has to be the kid from today, right? It has to be – sends quickly. "He was saying the weirdest shit, telling me how to vandalize and how to start my own business.
"I basically just told him to mind his own business because what kind of cop tells a criminal how to break the law?"
Deidara – it has to be Deidara, that's his name – takes a while to type so he decides to take advantage of it to write a reply. Obito takes another sip of his drink as he does.
"What a weirdo, but you know, I kind of agree with him. You're way better than just petty vandalism."
"Come on, man, stop flirting with me. You know I don't go that way. Besides, no one would be fucked up enough to like my art."
"Uh, I disagree?"
"Shut up. Anyway, he asked me my name and where I worked, and, yeah, I know you're probably going to say that I shouldn't have told him – yes, I did tell him - but like," he sends, "the main point is that he was kind of cute."
Obito chokes on his drink. He presses the back of his hand against his mouth as he coughs into it, unable to believe what he's reading.
"Wait, don't send anything, and let me explain."
Obito screws the cap back on and hurries to the living room. He shuts off the TV and watches the bubble intently.
"Obviously I was going to act disgusted because it's a goddamn copper, but he had these scars all over his face and even down to his neck and I can't help but assume maybe his whole right side is all fucked up?"
He should have known the kid is gay.
"On its own, this wasn't like, a big deal, or anything, but then he started talking and he told me he wasn't going to arrest me or get me in trouble and started to say all this cute stuff. And I just… A rugged looking guy with a sweet personality? Damn!"
Obito doesn't know if he should be flattered or not.
"Right up your ally," Obito decides to write.
"Hell yeah," Deidara replies.
"So did you get a number?"
"No, and I'm sad because of it! I kind of regret not giving him my ID too."
The kid sends a bunch of crying face emoji.
"Did you catch his name, at least?" Obito types carefully.
"Uh, yeah, Officer Uchiha," the kid sends back. "I actually tried looking for him on the website but there's apparently a bunch of Uchiha's working as police."
Yeah, it's a family tradition. It's strange to always see his cousins around.
"Didn't your grandfather work as law enforcement or whatever? Can you ask him?"
Obito leans back against the couch, weighing his options. He has no idea who he's pretending to be – Deidara begins to send a barrage of messages including "please" and "I'll owe you one" and "Kurotsuchi."
Okay, so he's pretending to be Kurotsuchi, whose name sounds familiar but he has no idea who she is. He presses his lips into a tight line, rubbing his temple with the first knuckle of his pointer finger.
Well, if he wants to change things up a bit in his routine…
"I can do you one better," he types out and hits send.
"What?" Deidara sends. "What? What do you mean? Kurotsuchi, don't play with me."
"Deidara," he sends, just to be sure.
"Yeah?" comes the reply. "Yeah, what is it?" He sends another reply that quotes his earlier message. "What does this mean? Dude, don't play."
He takes a picture of himself and sends it to him.
Deidara starts typing, and then he stops, and then he starts typing again. It takes him a full two minutes to respond.
"Oh."
Disappointing.
"Hi," Obito sends, adding a smiling emoji for safe measure.
"Hi."
Obito can sense the awkwardness through the message.
"I would say that you got the wrong number, but I think you were looking for it anyway," he sends.
"I've been texting the wrong number this whole time."
"Yes," Obito types, confused. "I thought you knew."
"Great. So you read all of that?"
"Technically, you sent it for me read."
"You pretended to be my friend."
"To be fair, I didn't pretend to be anybody. I just didn't agree or deny and that's not a crime. You willingly sent me all that information and I responded appropriately, you know?"
"This better not be a prank," Deidara sends after a minute.
"I promise it's not," Obito replies.
"You really are a weird cop."
"And a cute one at that, apparently."
He gets a bunch of middle-finger emoji in response.
"Best not to threaten an officer."
"This isn't a threat."
"A promise, then? I don't mind. I go both ways."
"Fuck you."
"You already said that earlier?" Obito snickers to himself as he types. "Want me to get you dinner first? I get off work at seven."
"Um? I didn't ask?"
Obito sends a shrugging emoji.
"Please delete my number."
"That's very rude, I think."
Deidara takes too long to reply. Obito sets his phone down on the coffee table and goes to the bathroom, carrying on his routine. When he reemerges from the bathroom, he is fresh-faced and clean. Smelling like lemongrass and soap, his autopilot sends him to his bedroom.
"Ah, shit," he says to himself when he realizes he doesn't have his phone on him. Obito gets up from his bed and heads back outside, taking his phone from the table and shutting off the living room light as he does so. He presses on the power button and is surprised to see that Deidara had sent him multiple messages.
"Sorry" and "I didn't mean it" and "Are you actually mad?"
He unlocks his phone and finds Deidara is still typing.
"I do think you're cute," a message pops up when he enters the chat box.
"Thanks," Obito replies.
"Fuck."
Obito can't stop himself from laughing out loud.
"Ha," he sends. "Dinner?"
"Are you actually serious about that?"
"Why not?"
"Well, I mean… I did break the law."
"It's not really a great idea," Obito sends. "But I do think you have heart. Maybe you can do what I can't even start."
"Oh, haha," Deidara sends. "You're really weird, you know?"
"But I'm cute."
"Shut up. I'll be at the station at seven tomorrow. You better not overtime."
Obito rereads the message again and again.
Scratch the whole cartoon idea. He's living in a goddamn movie.
Hey guys, Red here!
This is beta'd by AO3 user Dani_ATN.
For the fourth day of TobiDei week.
I really like this one. I really do. I hope you do too.
Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed reading it and if you did (or didn't), please remember to leave a comment telling me why (or why not)!
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