This is another ficlet about Obito and my OC, Sayuri. And I guess her parents too!
Minor spoilers for my long-running fic, Sayuri.
I've had problems with posting WIP to this site so 'Sayuri' is just being updated to Ao3 for now if you would like to check it out.
Uzumaki Yumi didn't always cook.
In her youth, she is too busy running through the waves, like lots of children her age, or rolling about in the long grass, much to the despair of her mother, who moans about the stains.
In kunoichi lessons she listens eagerly when the teacher talks about flowers and ikebana, and her arrangements are often touted as fine examples of work.
For cookery she gets an acceptable pass. Edible. Nothing to write home about.
"Hmm," the teacher chews thoughtfully, "a little tough. Needs more salt."
"I don't see what I need to cook for," she retorts, "I can just buy from the store."
"And what stores will you find in the middle of the field?"
"Well, uh, I'll find one," she replies, cheeks warm.
And then, the war starts, so she is dodging smoke bombs and projectiles, and finding the best way to patch up wounds when there is no medic nearby, and eating riceballs and protein bars on the go.
But sometimes protein bars are not enough and she has to learn how to cook, so if her teammates, her friends are to survive to the evening, they sure wouldn't die from food poisoning.
And then, as the city crumbles, fleeing with her husband, Kenta, who says nothing of the subpar stews that she concocts, although she sees how he grimaces as he chews his way through overcooked venison.
At a civilian village in the Land of Fire, she sees a poster at the village hall.
'Home cooking class, for all your family needs by Pan Keiko.'
"Do you want to have a go?" Kenta says, once he had doubled back after seeing his wife was not behind him, "We could stop here for a while."
"We can't," Yumi shakes her head, already pulling away, "it's far too expensive. We only have so much, and it's got to last. Who knows how long we'll be here for?"
"What's wrong with right here? It seems safe enough."
"Well, if you think so..."
"Besides you'll be needing to eat well soon enough, for the little one," he touches her stomach, at the subtle swell of her belly underneath her clothes.
"If you're sure…"
"Go on," he finishes with a kiss to her cheek, " I'll find a place for us to stay."
The class consists of making a katsu curry from scratch, and, surprisingly, pancakes.
Yumi is sure her curry sauce doesn't taste quite right, and finds herself growing increasingly flustered as she tries to fix it with the numerous spices available.
Here dear," the elderly woman leans over from the table next to her, and works adding a bit of this and a bit of that—so it resembles something closer to the example.
"Thank you," Yumi replies easily, "I shall have to remember more how to do the blends."
"You're welcome dear. But between you and me, you can easily just buy the packet roux from the shops. It tastes just as good. Of course Keiko would argue differently."
"So you know Pan-san do you?" Yumi asks as they prepare the ingredients for pancakes. It is an odd choice, but Yumi is glad that the recipe seems simple enough.
"Oh we go way back. But what about you? You come from far?"
"We were just passing through," Yumi says guardedly. This elderly lady looks kindly enough, but they can never be too careful.
"Little one on the way?"
"Oh, yes," Yumi confirms, consciously putting her arm protectively over her stomach. She is barely showing and this lady has noticed already?
"It's nice when they're small," the lady muses, "I take care of my grandson. Growing lad he is, I seem to forever find myself getting more food for him. Always getting himself in trouble, fighting with his friends. But what can I do? I just make sure he's got enough, and he's happy, it's the best I can do."
Yumi nods and smiles, hoping to herself that there will not be too much trouble ahead for her child.
—
Uchiha Rina arrives home to Konoha late that evening. Her grandson is waiting on the steps, still in his mission gear, which looks rather like it need a wash. He scrambles to his feet when he sees her.
"Grandma you're back! You should let me escort you going that far!"
"Pah!" She brushes off his hand trying to help her in—she was proud of her grandson for always being so caring, always willing to give a hand, but she is hardly an invalid—"I'm perfectly fine thank you! The road's safe enough."
The next morning Rina tries out the pancake recipe, seeing if she can replicate what she had done in the class.
Her grandson comes down the stairs sniffing the air. He had taken a shower thankfully, as evidenced by his hair being more unruly than it usually was. Rina always had to resist the urge to tame his locks, as whenever she tried to get a hairbrush near him, he would squirm away with a wail of "Grandma!"
"What're you doing?"
"Trying out this recipe I got from Keiko. If you stay and help you might get some."
"Oh no thanks! I gotta train! Gotta work hard and then I can finally beat Kakashi!"
"Rin might like it if you cooked something like these for her." Perhaps it is a little devious, but Rina is fond of Rin. She is a good influence on him. This...rivalry with Kakashi, she had hoped it was harmless childhood play, but it had only amplified once Obito had become genin.
She does worry about him.
"Oh yes, I guess she might!" Obito exclaims, interest piqued by the mention of Rin and jumps in to help.
"Well you do it like this, that's it, and pour the batter carefully, you've got to do the—watch it Obito!"
—
The village isn't suitable after all. No housing available that isn't an extortionate amount of money.
"I'm sorry Yumi," Kenta says, holding her in his arms.
—
The rainy village of high rise buildings admittedly wouldn't have been Yumi's first choice, but it is a welcome refuge, especially when her stomach is already considerably swollen.
"Everyone's welcome here," they say.
And two weeks later, she gives birth to her daughter in the room of a worn and busy hospital.
Yumi sings to her daughter in the tiny cramped apartment, rocking Sayuri in the sling as she giggles and grabs fistfuls of her hair.
It is worse when she is mobile, as she climbs over all the furniture and Yumi has to keep an eye on her at all times. She has to arrange the bulk of her cooking while Sayuri is taking a nap and then make sure to oversee as she eats from her highchair, feeding herself pancake clumsily with a fork in her pudgy little hands.
One day Sayuri manages to clamber onto the sill and knock down the vase of irises there. Yumi jumps to save it, but of course, it is too late, and she silently mourns the casualty.
Sayuri is blissfully unaware of the consequences of her actions and sits there in her napkin clad bottom, waving her little fingers.
"Buhbye."
Kenta bursts into laughter.
"You saying bye-bye to the flower Sayuri-chan?"
She stops in her waving, looks up wide-eyed at her father, and sticks her fingers in her mouth.
But then that place too becomes unsafe and once again, they have to flee.
Yumi is almost in tears as the skies burn, holding on tightly to her husband's hand, Sayuri held close against her as they escape.
"Kenta, we can't keep on running, please!"
They flit from place to place and when they hide in the cramped backroom of a store, the owner having caught sight of them and ushered them in, Yumi feeds Sayuri with cold bits of pancake to distract her, silently praying she will not cry.
Eventually, they find a place where they could rest.
It is safe. Safe and normal. It comes with a price. Renounce your old lives. Forget everything you have come from. Your family, your heritage. Shinobi create conflict. They are banned.
"Yes, of course, we're just a simple civilian family. We just want a good life for our daughter."
She can have the garden of her dreams. Roses and bluebells and chyransatheums and hydrangea.
Sayuri plays in the dirt, scooping up fistfuls of mud and forming them into flat discs.
"Pancakes! I'm making pancake!"
When she tires of playtime, she runs to her mother.
"Mummy? Can I have some pancakes?"
"Sayuri-chan, you cannot have pancakes for breakfast, lunch and dinner."
"When I grow-up I will," says Sayuri with all the wisdom of a four year old.
—
Obito learns to make pancakes properly eventually, after a few mishaps.
Rin and Kakashi come round after one failed baking session.
"Oh, Obito-kun, what are you making?"
"N-nothing!" Obito lies, glad that he has hidden the burned offerings.
Kakashi sniffs the air pointendly.
"Smells like burning."
"Shut up Bakakashi!"
"You two! Come on, I got popcorn from the store. Let's watch this movie."
Some weeks later he manages to produce something edible and presents it to Rin, eagerly waiting for her reaction.
She takes a bite.
"Hey, these are pretty good! Thanks Obito."
He tries to play it cool, though his palms are sweating.
"Ah, it's nothing."
Rin. How he loves her.
—
"Are you sure you're not hungry, Sayuri-chan. Pancakes, your favourite."
The child shakes her head.
"My tummy hurts," she complains.
At the parent-teacher meeting, Kubo-sensei talks about Sayuri's behaviour.
"Sayuri is a very vivacious young girl, we are only concerned where she is spending her energy. Does she practice her needlework at home?"
"Oh yes, I make a point of homework before play," Yumi replies. She will not be seen as an incompotent mother.
"Of course. Just to make sure, your daughter does know the law of the village? We all abide by the rules."
"You understand, don't you Sayuri-chan?"
"Yes," Sayuri says quickly, looking downcast.
Sayuri keeps up her subdued demeanour on the walk home.
"Are you okay? Did you want to speak to Kubo-sensei about something?"
"No mummy, I'm fine."
—
It would be easy to just order ready made meals and takeaway, so long as she gets some form of sustenance. He doesn't have to pay that much attention to her. Just enough to make sure she doesn't wither away, not until she's fulfilled her purpose
It won't hurt to indulge, just a bit.
He makes the goofy, clumsy persona for her.
He fools around, going to drop the whisk and catching it at just the right moment, speaking in that childish voice, dancing around the kitchen.
She laughs easily at it, a childish giggle that softens the edges of his heart, just a bit. If he has a heart, that is.
"Welcome to Tobi's pancake cookery class."
She grins delightedly, eyes wide in childish curiosity.
She pushes the whisk around with a grim determination, pulling on all the strength from her inner core, which is not a lot. He has to take the bowl from her after to combine the ingredients properly.
Of course, she insists on flipping the pancakes herself and Obito has to navigate the delicate balance of catering to her innocent demands and not allowing her to injure herself. It's all for the long game of course. Seeing her expression turn to sugar-induced delight is not any indication that he actually. He just has to do enough, to get her to trust him completely.
Yes, a little bit of indulgence won't hurt.
When it becomes evident she is not what he thought, he vows not to have anything to do with her. Oh, he could keep her, as another foot soldier, she is obedient enough, but best not to pay any mind to her. Best not pay any mind to the small ache he feels when she avoids his gaze, pulling on her long sleeves.
—
When she wakes up screaming from a nightmare, he automatically goes to crack the eggs and stir in the milk and the flour.
What the hell is he doing? He isn't meant to do this. She is nothing, nothing.
And she is everything.
She forgives him of course, far too easily.
He watches her as she pushes the food around her plate, looking towards nothing.
"Aren't you hungry?"
At his words, she looks up at him, and for a moment the vacant expression flickers to something akin to what she would look at her childhood teacher with, before it reverts to a neutral expression. She takes a very small bite.
At night he can hear her crying.
—
She lazes on the sofa, feet up on the arm, munching something from a paper cone. He looks at the packaging and sees it's from the new crȇpe stand she had been talking about earlier.
"They're alright," she says, "Yours are much better."
She pivots, feet hitting the floor, then she stands, and her face gets very close.
"They're sweet. Like you."
Her smiles are becoming less of a child and more those of a woman.
—
She watches him often as he cooks, insisting that she could help. He decides to keep her far away from the stove, but that doesn't stop her from trying to peer over his shoulder. She pokes at the batter and licks it off her finger. He takes the bowl from her and she pouts at that, then moves onto the syrup bottle, eating it by the spoon.
He grimaces; how could you like that much sugar?
She grins in that impish way of hers.
"Are you going to save any of that for your pancakes?"
"Hmm, maybe."
She nestles in his lap, eating with her fingers, and every other bite she would pass up bits to his mouth. They are sickly sweet, although he is not sure if that is to do with her own preference, or the way his tastebuds have matured.
She licks the remnants from her fingers so that in the end she is very sticky. He has to insist she wash her hands afterwards to which she does under protest, berating him for bossing her around.
She kneels between his legs and he has to struggle to keep his moans quiet. One hand is between her own legs, fiddling with herself before she sinks down atop him.
She latches herself onto his neck, and not for the first time, Obito is grateful he wears things with high collars.
They sleep together peacefully for once.
—
He knows it has been a difficult mission, for she ends up in hospital afterwards. When she is let out she insists that she is fine. She follows the rule about not showing emotion as a shinobi to the letter and often tries to hide her feelings even when they are in private. Part of it is his own doing, he knows that. And although he could reassure her that it was perfectly okay for her to show her emotions more readily, he cannot force her.
He could hardly lecture her on it given his own track record.
Giving her the once over with his sharingan he deduces that she is mostly okay, although he feels that at least one night or two more in the hospital might have benefitted her. He does not voice his concerns though as the last time he did it had not gone well at all.
"So you don't want me here do you," she accuses, and flounces off.
"It is not that. I'm just thinking after your health."
"Oh," she blinks, and has the grace to look embarrassed, "But I like being with you."
He can't help but smile at that and resigns himself to let her have her way.
That night,she sobs into him as he holds her and strokes her hair. He does not ask about any details, and she does not tell him.
"Can I have something to eat?" She asks quietly after she is more settled.
"Sure. What do you want?"
"Pancakes."
He nods and heads down to the kitchen to prepare, her trailing along behind.
Pancakes it is.