You may have noticed I'm updating this story again! I'm glad to be back. Please leave reviews!
Note: This IS a OC x Kakashi story, but there will be Obito nostalgia, and a brief OC x Shisui to build on the OC x Kakashi relationship.
Enjoy!
Michiko's arm is hot with pain. She is certain the cut will reopen if she continues to walk.
Cut? It's a damn fucking SLICE.
Some language for a 15-year-old.
She doesn't stop walking. The pain in her arm feels similar to a tooth being sliced out of her gums. She clenches her jaw.
The trek from Anbu HQ to the Uchiha compound is long, and winding. Rain has made the ground muddy, and the lanterns glitter dizzily in the rough wind.
There's a storm coming.
She walks faster, shoving past many of her fellow villagers. The clouds are so dark that the moon is hidden.
Michiko wipes her eyes with the back of a damp and cold hand. She feels as if her entire body is wet, as if she has been freshly rung out. She feels cold, her arms are bare.
As she roughly pushes and shoves her way through the throng of people, many turn their head to watch her go, annoyed and offended.
At this point, she has broken into a sweat and her breath is in puffs. Her lungs ache.
Her tears turn to little prickles of cold as they travel down her cheeks. Her hair grows damp. It's drizzling.
People are having dinner with their family, some with their friends and they begin to rush under the nearest roof. Some already have umbrellas on hand.
She walks briskly past a group preoccupied with loud banter. They are nearly wasted, and their loud laughter booms in her ears as she all but sprints past them.
Somewhere else in the village, Kakashi has sullenly made his way to the war memorial, suspecting that Michiko will be at Obito's grave.
He glares at the stone, blaming it for his behaviour, blaming it for Michiko's reaction. A light breeze blows some fallen leaves and they dance around his feet. Drops of rain lightly tickle his toes.
Regretfully, he sighs.
The Nakano Shrine glows in the night, a warm bright beacon in the centre of the compound, slightly blurred in the smattering of raindrops.
It's tiled walls smoulder with reflections, dotted, of the lanterns bobbing earnestly in the wind. There is a crisp scent in the air, fresh autumn mixed with the scent of the damp, dying earth.
It's always like autumn in here.
Michiko's observation is an attempt at distracting herself for a moment- but another sob wreaks through her. Her shoulders shake and she clamps a hand to her mouth, ducks her head and walks even faster.
It's a wonder she doesn't collide with anyone.
She brings herself to the bottom of the Shrine's steps and looks up at the entrance. She assumed earlier that it would be shut to visitors, but people are still arriving and leaving.
She stands outside, looking up, feeling the cold air on her ears.
Time feels like it has ebbed here. Her hurried walk was the roar of a river, but this is the gentle ripple the wind makes on the pond. For a silent second, she feels the serenity and then, she feels it slip from her hands.
Shisui has been strolling through the drizzle, enjoying his night off.
He has left his fore-head protector at home, relishing the cool air on his face. As he passes the Nakano Shrine, he spots a familiar slim, dark figure at the bottom of the steps, looking up.
It is unusual for any other than Uchiha to wander around his clan's compound at night, unless they have friends or relatives.
Michiko Sarutobi is alone.
She stands very still, staring up at the building, wondering if it will lend her any comfort.
I wish you were still here, Obito.
Up above her, the shrine and the clouds, the stars wink watchfully, hidden away in the never-ending dark that surrounds the sky.
A thick vein of blood and rainwater runs down her arm and drips incessantly from her elbow. Shisui only spots it as he approaches her from behind.
'Her arms are bare, she must be freezing.' Concern tints his thoughts. Michiko is still dressed in standard Anbu under-clothing: a fitted vest-top and dark pants. She is, oddly, barefoot.
Perplexed, he questions whether she has abandoned a mission, or if something terrible has happened.
She begins to slowly climbs up the steps, when she hears a voice behind her.
"You don't want to go into the Shrine bleeding."
'Or barefoot,' He muses.
Unsure if she is being addressed, she glances over her shoulder.
Shisui Uchiha stands at the bottom of the stairs. He has his hands in his pockets as he looks up at her. The absence of smugness in his expression confuses Michiko. She has reservations about him from what she has heard, but presently, he seems out-of-character.
"I just mean you'll dirty the place." He says to her. Immediately, he regrets his words.
'Smooth, Shisui. Real smooth.'
It's bad enough that he has knocked her over. It's also bad enough that she has probably heard many unpleasant things about him.
Abruptly, a thought streaks across his mind faster than he catch it.
'What's wrong with her face?'
Michiko's eyes are puffy are red.
The Sarutobi wants to feel irritated as she eyes him warily, but her mind feels exhausted.
Why is he here?
More tears continue to well up in her eyes, they blur her vision and Shisui becomes a dark blob.
She blinks to make sure she can continue to glare at him. She feels that now she is crying for absolutely no reason.
Shisui is appalled by the sight of a glaring, weeping woman and his ears become hot (and visibly, pink).
"Hey," He calls gently as he climbs up one of the steps to stand a little closer, "Are you alright?"
There are four steps between them now and his voice is brazened with concern.
Pathetically, Michiko hiccups, "I..I…n…need t…to g...go." She glances down at her feet, shying away from the concern so evident on his face.
She too is appalled; appalled at the sound of her whiny, stuttering voice.
Just then, just then she realizes that she is wearing no sandals. Her shoulders tense up in embarrassment. Her feet are covered in mud and dirt. They look disgusting.
Shisui unintentionally follows her gaze and frowns at her bare toes, climbing up one step as he does so.
"What happened?" He takes another step up. Now there are two steps between them.
Michiko watches him questioningly as he squats on the stairs.
"Aren't you cold in this weather? Doesn't Michiko look after you?"
Befuddled, it dawns upon Michiko that he is speaking to her feet.
Amidst her sobbing, she chokes out a small laugh.
Successful in his attempt, he peeks up at her, "Are my jokes so terrible that you're crying? Or are you really laughing?"
Michiko giggles again, bringing her palms to her mouth to forcibly stop herself.
To her ears, her laugh sounds horribly squawky, like a crow.
Oh my Kami, Michiko stop laughing, your feet look absolutely disgusting.
She sees the trail of blood and holds her arm out to stare at it. Her lips form into a small 'o'.
"I'm bleeding all over the place." She croaks, wiping her face with the back of her other hand.
Shisui stands and nods. He raises his eyebrows at her in an 'I-told-you-so' kind of expression.
Then he unties his Uchiha wrap from around his arm as Michiko haphazardly wipes the blood from her arm. Some of it is dry, and the cut stings.
"You can still go inside," He takes another step so that there's only one step between him and Michiko.
He is level with her face while standing on a lower step. It reminds Michiko that he is much taller than her.
"Give me your hand." His voice is gentle but commanding. She is reminded of how a father, or an older brother might be.
Wordlessly, she holds out her arm and he takes it in his large hand. His slim fingers rest just above the crook of her elbow.
"Now, let me see." He leans to the right, and then to the left. "How did you get hurt?"
He begins to fold the wrap gently around the cut, winding it around her forearm in a tight knot. His fingers brush against her skin, and they are very warm. Michiko realizes she is freezing.
As Shisui concentrates on his little task, Michiko finds his face an excellent distraction from her pain.
In the absence of his forehead protector, his dark hair falls messily above his eyes. His nose is broad, straight and sharp at the tip. Despite his hawk-like Uchiha features, the warmth of his eyes and the expressions portrayed by his malleable lips, give his character a softness that Michiko finds herself appreciating.
He glances at her, and when their eyes meet, both sets of cheeks flush deeply.
The clouds above are lighting up, flashing an eerie red. There is no thunder to break them out of their reverie.
Moments after their gazes have met, Michiko realises how thick and beautiful his eyelashes are.
"My arm-guard broke during the mission." She finally answers. Her voice cracks slightly, and she looks down at his hands that behold her arm.
"Well you need better arm-guards." He responds, finishing up the wrap. He is praying to every Uchiha patron that the flush he feels on his cheeks isn't observable.
"All done. Let me take you inside."
He releases her and climbs up the steps, past her. Two steps up, he pauses to look back at her to make sure she is behind him.
In the glow of the Shrine, Michiko looks a vision.
Someone has struck the bell inside, and its ring echoes into the air.
Her eyes are sad and shiny, her hair is free and wet, strands clinging to her skin. Shisui notes the little scar beneath her left eye, and the familiar lines of the Sarutobi that she shares with her uncle, Hiruzen.
Her lips are a supple pink, and her nose has a small ridge. She is fit, like any jounin, but the colour of her skin and the brown of her hair paint her exotic. She stands out in the compound.
He suddenly feels the need to override his thoughts.
"Hurry up, Michiko. Are you late for everything?"
He resumes climbing, and she is left staring after him, slightly startled that he knows who she is.
A wave of nostalgia wrecks her mind, and she nearly misses the next step in her hurry to race after him.
This time I can keep up.