Obi didn't believe in needing another person, because all of the people that he came to know disappointed him too much, left something behind; they were lacking. Perhaps, that's harsh to say, but Obi didn't really hang out with many people and usually only tolerated people for business. He'd also rather do things on his own, take care of stuff by himself, rather than work among a team.
He'd always been more of a loner; circumstance kept friends far from his mind. People had scarred him as much as he'd probably scarred others. It was normal for him. And even now, he's pretty sure he doesn't need them or her more precisely. He isn't broken without her or rather not necessarily fixed by her. He's still just as broken as always, and yet, there's something here that he doesn't quite have the words for.
It isn't easy to say, like those words that she'd spoken so long ago shouldn't have been easy for her to say. They should have been impossible to say; her tongue should have been tied into knots at the absurdity of it all. She shouldn't have spoken so clearly, so genuinely, so confidently, nor should she have taken any time at all to consider them, to test them out in her mind, like she had.
She should have hated him. Anyone else would have. And Obi's okay with that. He's never been a huge fan of friends or commitments that last longer than his next paycheck, his next job. He wouldn't have seen Haruka after having scared her off or rather attempted to, because Shirayuki should have felt threatened and ran off, instead of staying her ground.
It's all an impossibility with her. Then again, it's always been. But when she'd looked up at him, not afraid of the man that had threatened to end her life, had prepared for any means necessary to scare her off, even if she wound up in a grave for it, she looked at him, not trusting him fully yet. But ready and willing to forgive, to learn to trust him.
And that act of mercy had penetrated his heart so thoroughly that Obi isn't entirely sure there isn't an arrow lodged inside, shot from her hand. Really, he doesn't need her, like he doesn't need Zen or Mitsuhide or Kiki or anyone else. He doesn't need her, but he longs to be around her in a way that he feels like he shouldn't.
He already knows that she's in love with Master, and he knows that that's better for her than anything else, better than someone trained to kill, with no real idea how to keep permanence with someone else, who has always ran from anything that seemed a threat and falling in love is it's own kind of threat, a kind that he couldn't avoid somehow.
And maybe she felt some kind of compassion for him back then or maybe she merely forgave him to avoid holding a grudge or maybe she saw something in him that day that she felt she should reach out to. It was odd. Catching her had not been something that she have erased what it did, and maybe she did so out of the cunning within her, but she was so genuine with those words. Yes, she'd been a bit guarded, and he understood why all too well.
But, she'd looked at him, forgave him, and gave him a chance to be a part of her life in a way that felt more permanent. Obi's pretty sure that he's never deserved her forgiveness, and yet she reached out and forgave him, let him know that maybe he hadn't done something with cruel intent for once in his life. Maybe he was worthy of forgiveness.
He's still pretty sure that no words have ever meant that much to him before, that nothing had ever reached his heart so cleanly that it was as if nothing could block them off or ward them off. Those words snuck in, and it made him freer somehow, while also binding him more to her than he feels that he should be.
Obi's never been the kind of person to be merciful, to readily forgive, just as he hasn't been the type to hold grudges. He never let himself care enough for people to be upset with them for more than a few seconds, and he's never cared enough to forgive them either. Instead, he just lets jobs be jobs and forgets them with practiced ease.
And yet, Shirayuki sort of makes him want to be better, makes him sort of want to earn what he's never earned. Her forgiveness came so readily, and already, Obi feels it's imprint on his life, as easily as if it's always been there. Maybe it's hard to find the words for how much her words meant to him that day, or impossible to really express. It's as if she held a key to a part of him that had never before been unlocked and chose that day to finally use it. And then, he found himself unsure of exactly where he was going, except that it likely would be at her side from here on out.