Published: 10/11/2015
Obito: Hell is a Door
Obito takes a deep breath. He molds his energies in his stomach and is pleased to see it does not dissipate. Triumphantly, he guides the chakra up his arm, channels it into his fist, and lets it fly at the wall of his cell.
Then it hisses right out of him.
"Shit!" His knuckles smash into the stone unprotected. The flesh over his fingers tears and scrapes back; the bones crunch together with painful, horrifying loudness. Obito yanks his hand back and swears profusely.
He pants disbelievingly as he holds his bleeding hand to his chest, blinking away the bright flashes of pain dancing across his vision. He had been sure that he'd found a circumvent for the chakra suppressor that time… but most evidently he had not.
And then he hears the door creak open.
Great. A ferocious scowl immediately takes over his face as he hears the loathsome tap-tap-tap of sandals soles against hard concrete. It is their courtesy to him, he knows, the way they make their steps so loud and deliberate, but he does not appreciate their goodwill.
"Get out of here," he snarls at the wall when the footsteps come to a stop behind him, still clutching his hand. He refuses to turn and look the fake Rin in the face. He will not be swayed by this illusion Konoha has crafted for him. He will never spit on her memory like that again.
"Are you alright?" not-Rin's voice immediately queries. The sound is so familiar, so warm, so concerned—
"What business of it is yours?" he snaps, deigning now to throw a wicked glare over his shoulder. He catches a glimpse of Kakashi's masked face and the imposter's worried expression, but he quickly looks away again before eye contact can be made. It is a trick. They had fooled him before, but not this time.
He ignores the aching in his heart. It's been months. Maybe even a year. He's lasted this long against her—he won't give in now.
Resolving to ignore her like he always does—ignore both of them—he instead paces away and examines his hand grimly. The bones are broken, of that there is no doubt; he had held nothing back. Obito sighs at his miscalculation. He should have used his other hand—that would have repaired itself. Now he needs to find a way to set this and make sure it heals properly…
"Rin?"
Kakashi's voice, low and startled, suddenly cuts through the frigid silence. The sound of metal creaking and then sliding to the side meets Obito's ears. Shocked, he whirls around.
For a moment, he is so flabbergasted by the fact that the cell door is open that he does not realize the imposter girl is marching forward determinedly. Kakashi rushes to cover the opening, single eye wide.
"Rin, what are you doing?" he demands, though he keeps his voice pitched at an urgent whisper. "The guards won't let us come back if they catch you in there!"
"He's hurt," Rin—no, no, not Rin—replies, and Obito finds his injured arm suddenly seized in a grip that is simultaneously gentle and made of steel. "...You've broken it."
"What are you—" Obito immediately tries to draw back, but her strength is almost supernatural. "Let go—"
Warm green chakra suddenly sinks into his skin, soothing the pain and mending the tears in his flesh. Against his will, a sigh of utter relief escapes Obito's lips.
"I can't tell you not to act tough anymore," she murmurs, brows knitting just slightly as she weaves the bones his hand back together. "You are tough now. I'm sure you'd be able to take care of yourself if it came down to it… you don't need me." Her voice cracks a bit. "But just remember I'm watching you anyway, okay? Even… even if you don't want me to."
Obito refuses to look her in the face.
The prisoner status report for that day noted an unexplained crying fit in the night.
Alternate title: Locked From Inside.
Takes place a little more than a year before the start of the Fire Country Court arc. No, Suzu does not know that this happened. She's more out of the loop than she thinks.
Dedicated to Pretend Fiction, who wrote the very long, very thoughtful, and extremely helpful review from which the idea of Obito and an "imposter" came.
