Hey, I'm back after a few years. Hopefully with some better writing.
Some think it's a hindrance. The long fabric is a shade of red that never blends in with the forests. And it stands out against the monotone of the snow and sand. The first thought is that he'd be spotted, attacked instantly. But he's always known what he's doing, and sinks into the ground until his heart stops beating and he is part of the earth.
He likes to think that he picked such a vibrant shade because of Obito. That the violent red matches the sharingan, but he knows that it isn't true. The shade is deeper, matching the blood he can never wash out of the crevices in his hands. It fascinates him.
The red is convenient. When he hangs the mangled bodies of those not yet dead, their lifeblood is soaked up, and dyes the scarf in an ever more lovely shade. And when he ties it back around his neck, he can feel it tighten, waiting for the day when he'll be the one dangling from it.
So no, it's not a hindrance. And when he sees the body squirming, the stubs that used to be hands rubbing at the noose, he smiles as the color blooms, until his left eye starts crying. But he pushes it away. He did not choose the red for Obito. He chose it for himself.
And one day, he'll be looking at it so he won't ever be like this again.
Yeah, kind of ordinary. But I couldn't find one about his scarf during his time as an ANBU, so here's one.
