Shisui kept his arms tightly around Mina, steadying her when they arrived on the Uchiha training grounds. Teleportation over a long distance was never pleasant for the teleportee.
"Let me go," Mina growled, balling her fists around the front of his yukata.
Holding up his hands, Shisui carefully backed away. A hot, angry tear traced its way down her cheek. He shoved his hands in his pockets to keep himself from wiping it from her face.
"Now, listen," he started softly, approaching her like she was a wounded dog. He dodged the first kunai she threw at him. Where she hid such a thing, he wasn't sure in the first place. He ducked his head, neatly avoiding the three senbon she threw his way. A small tear ripped at the shoulder of his yukata. "Oh come on, please, just listen to me."
His eyes widened when she took off the painstakingly wrapped obi, folding it neatly and hanging it on the fence. Her winter yukata followed, laid on top of the obi. Shisui scrubbed a rough hand over his face while she took off the nagajuban below, revealing a pair of short shorts and a crop top.
"Fucking hell. Come on, Mina, how am I going to explain this to Kakashi? Do you know how bad this is going to look for me?"
Another kunai sailed past his face, trimming off small pieces of hair. It landed with a wet plop onto the half-frozen ground.
"Be reasonable! You're in a bra thing and shorts. It's snowing!"
The air split and cracked as lightning filled the space. Shisui skidded to the side. Ripping off his own obi and yukata. He threw them on top of the fence, left in a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt.
"Fight me! You fucking coward!" Mina screeched, coming at him again.
He held his hands in front of him again. "Mina, please. Let's just talk, okay?"
She screeched, the glint of metal passed in her hand. Chakra flooded into his vision, everything sharpening in perfect clarity. Moments passed, as he sprinted to her. Their kunai clashed against each other in a rain of sparks. His arm jerked back at the connection of the electrical current.
"You are acting like a brat," he growled when the pain of the electrical burn registered.
"You don't know me anymore!"
He aimed a shuriken at her shoulder, slow enough that he was sure she'd be able to dodge it.
"The hell I don't! You are one entitled, self-righteous—"
The barrage of kunai had him swallowing his last words, rolling on the ground in a neat somersault.
"Finish that sentence, Uchiha. I fucking dare you!"
Sprinting to him, she jumped, aiming a kick at his solar plexus. Anger burned through him.
"You think you're the only one who lost something?!"
"You didn't lose a damn thing!"
He heard enough, and wanting to end it, he kicked up, using his size to his advantage. Twining his legs against hers, he pinned her to the muddy field below. Arms trapped beneath her, he wrapped his around her, letting his full weight keep her on the ground.
"I lost my best friend, Mina," Shisui admitted quietly, resting his forehead on the back of her mud-splattered head. "I lost my parents. I almost lost Obito. I lost myself...I lost you. I lost you."
Her screams of anger changed to sobs.
Throwing her legs around him, she tried to gain the leverage to exchange their position. He let her. She half-heartedly tried to punch out, he shifted so her fist landed against the ground. With every strike, her anger fizzled. Tears were falling down her face, the mud splashed against his. Rocking up to a sitting position, he held her as she sobbed on his shoulder.
"It's all so messed up," she cried against his shoulder. "I hate all of this."
He hushed her, gently stroking her back. Vaguely aware that her legs were still wrapped around his hips, he scooted her away from his groin. "Let it out. I'm not going anywhere."
"I miss home. I miss my brother. I miss Darui. I just…I want to go home. I want my brother. And I never expected everything to become so messed up."
He kissed the top of her forehead, pulling her in closer. "It's not messed up. Maybe the Hokage can—"
"I can never go back to Konoha. For all its faults, I am proud to be from Kumo."
He squeezed his eyes shut. "You're not from Kumo. You're from Konoha. Your brother is from Konoha. I'm from Konoha. Kumo took you away from us."
"We're hiding from Obito for a reason," she tried to point out, sniffling.
"Obito could fix it, if he wanted to," Shisui mumbled, his lips against the crown of her head. "Kakashi could make him fix it."
"Shisui—"
"Just come home," he whispered with a shuddering breath. Tears froze against his cheeks as the night grew darker around them. "Please. Just come home."
"Kumo is my home."
"Konoha will always be our home. Your family is in Konoha. Your clan's estate…Kumo stole you from us."
"No. They didn't. You know the truth, even if you're too pig-headed to see it."
He held her closer against his chest, breathing in her scent, desperately trying to ground himself. "Come home."
Capital of the Land of Fire; Shisui's Apartment
Obito hated the capital with a burning passion. Refuse covered the streets on the outskirts, giving way to the glittering opulence near the palace. Buildings were held together with nothing more than hopes and dreams, people huddled in darkened alleyways, thrown out of their hovels by ruthless landlords. Rather than simply ending their misery, the daimyo turned a blind eye.
As the captain of the daimyo's guard, and son of a noble clan, his cousin, Shisui's, apartment was in the exclusive part of town. The entrance to the building was staffed around the clock. Valets waited for visiting dignitaries and their mistresses, never their wives, to help unload their luggage into the visitor's quarters. Crystals hung in chandeliers from the ceiling, refracting their light onto the marble floors of the atrium. Exotic plants bloomed along the hallway to the elevators. Not that he or his cousin would ever use such a thing.
Shisui lived in a second-story apartment for a reason, it was easily accessible through a window. He could leave and enter without ever being seen. No doubt why he and Fugaku had chosen it. Technically, the apartment belonged to the clan, one of their many investments in the Land of Fire. His little cousin was simply its caretaker.
Raised in one of, if not the poorest families in the clan, his cousin's new accommodations were almost obscene in contrast. Obito could remember a time when his late mother's sister would cry at his grandmother's kitchen table, desperately trying to pay bills she couldn't afford. So many nights passed when he would lay in his bed with his three-year-old cousin, praying Shisui wouldn't wet the bed, while his aunt cried to their grandma. Their circumstances only improved when her useless husband finally ended his life.
God, he was glad when she died too. He had no room in his life for particularly useless people, and his Aunt Kanna was one of the worst. She was one of the few collateral deaths from the Kyuubi he was happy about.
Far from chipped butcher block, Shisui's countertops were made of quartz, mined from the Land of Wind. Comfortable furnishings in a wash of taupe and sage were in the living room. Fugaku had argued against the modernity of the space, but Shisui won with the counterargument of stepping into modern times. Plush white carpets ran seamlessly into dark walnut hardwood. A tattered Uchiwa was framed on the wall in between a matching pair of bookshelves—one of the things that had survived the third shinobi war. Shisui had always been a sentimental fool, saying he would stare at it almost every night after he heard of Obito's death.
The worst part about coming back from the dead after three years was finding out the world moved on without him. Except Rin. Never Rin. Murdered at the tender age of sixteen by their teammate, Kakashi. Murdered. Always murdered. Dead. No heartbeat against his ear. No breath tickling his cheek. Cold. Dead. Mist creeping in, chilling her stiff body.
No.
She would live again when he created a new world. She would breathe, sigh, and roll her eyes in exasperated fondness. She would smile, the slight dimple in her left cheek more prominent in adulthood. She would blush, a sweet pink that dusted her nose and the tops of her cheeks. She would be warm in his arms.
Her hand had been so warm in his, her tears wet against the palm of his hand as he lay crushed beneath the rocks. That was the last time he could feel anything. He could feel his mind slip away as he begged her to give Kakashi his sharingan. An eye for an eye, after all.
Her hand had been so cold in his, her blood warm against his ragged pants as he sat against the cliff's edge. Kakashi was unconscious, still drawing shallow breaths, his cheek in a puddle of a Kiri ANBU's blood. He deserved to bathe in blood and misery for the rest of his life. At that moment, Obito couldn't have been happier about the rumor of sweet little Kaminari's death. Kakashi didn't deserve solace. A life for a life, after all.
When the Konoha ANBU was within range, Guru-Guru demanded they return to Madara. He left Rin under Kakashi's arm, hoping the image of her dead body would be seared into the younger teen's mind. He hoped Kakashi thought about her death every day. As he set his hateful gaze upon the decrypted old man on a decaying throne, he knew he had to make sure Kakashi suffered for the rest of his life.
When the wasted space of a former conqueror finally passed a year later, Obito seized his chance. He barely remembered putting his hand through Guru-Guru's chest, nor black Zetsu's wide-eyed shock. The stone wall that blocked the cavern was easily destroyed under his hands. By the time the next Konoha ANBU patrol came around, he had dragged his body in a gesture of weakness to an open meadow.
After years in that cramped cave, the bustle of Konoha's streets was far too loud. The ANBU whispered among themselves as they carried his stretcher to Hokage Tower. They needn't of bothered, he could hear them just as well if they were shouting. He wished he could have bottled up the awe on Minato-sensei's face when he entered the cold hospital room.
Another sentimental fool, his sensei. All Obito had to do was tell him the truth: he was held captive by Madara Uchiha. And, 'Oh Sensei, I was so scared the whole time. I promised him whatever he wanted just to stay alive. He tortured me with genjutsu until I couldn't stand it anymore. Picture that, Sensei, after everything I've been through, screaming for help that never came.'
'Oh, Sensei, I was so relieved when he finally died. I crawled out of the cave. Just wanting to come home. I just wanted to come home.'
Minato Namikaze paid for his sentimentality with his life and that of his wife. One of the deaths Obito regretted from unleashing the Kyuubi on Konoha. Not that it mattered, he would be alive in the end, after all, when Obito's plans came to fruition.
Kakashi made a surreptitious cough from Shisui's sofa. He raised an eyebrow at Obito, and Obito realized he was still standing in the kitchen. Two glasses of water were in his hands as he shook himself back to the present.
"What brings you all the way out here?" Kakashi asked when Obito handed him the glass of water.
Sitting across from him, Obito crossed his ankle over the top of his knee, reclining against the plush furniture. He had to admit, his little cousin had great taste. Years of patiently teaching him had shown him as much. No wonder he was so enamored with Kaminari, she certainly grew up to be a fierce beauty—like her brother.
"I wanted to make sure you were okay," Obito said simply. "You seemed upset when you submitted your request for leave."
Kakashi's eye narrowed minutely. "I see. I suppose we're here to visit the same person. Shisui needed to be told of Mina's death."
"A death that you don't believe came to pass."
Avoiding Obito's gaze, Kakashi looked out of the floor-to-ceiling windows that lined Shisui's living room.
Obito sipped his water slowly, staring at Kakashi. "What aren't you telling me?"
Kakashi's fingers flexed, he mirrored Obito's posture. Leaning back against the cushions, crossing his ankle over his knee, Kakashi pulled his mask beneath his chin. Obito was shaken by Kakashi's quiet scrutiny.
"Shisui's in on whatever it is, isn't he? Is that why he isn't here?" Obito tried again. "Let me guess. Shisui was caught fucking the daimyo's niece? Again."
Huffing a laugh, Kakashi shook his head. "Surprisingly enough, no."
Obito raised his brow, following Kakashi's gaze to the window. "What are you waiting for?"
"Aren't you inquisitive tonight? Are you going to tell me why you're here?"
"I told you, I was worried."
"Were you?"
"Things have been difficult between us lately. I'll admit, I've been under a lot of pressure from the Hokage, and perhaps haven't been the kindest to you."
Obito walked over to the other sofa and sat next to Kakashi. The top of Kakashi's yukata was warm beneath Obito's left hand as he rubbed the top of Kakashi's thigh. Small specks of melted snowflakes dotted along the dark navy cotton. A red envelope stuck out of the side of his obi, brushing against the inside of Obito's forearm.
Brushing his finger along the edge of Kakashi's cheekbone, he caressed his jaw with his thumb.
"I'm sorry," Obito said quietly. He ran his thumb gently along Kakashi's lower lip. "Forgive me?"
Kakashi sighed, leaning into the palm of Obito's hand. Soft grey eyes met Obito's. "You need to be more specific than that."
Obito wanted to roll his eyes, fist Kakashi's hair, and yank his head back: demand his undying loyalty, but brute force alone would not control such a man.
Softening his voice, Obito said, "I'm sorry for hurting you in the Land of Waves. For being so careless about your sister's death."
"She's not dead. I told you that on the bridge. I won't believe she is until I see her body."
Dipping his lips to Kakashi's, he kissed him experimentally, cautiously, aware that he would pull away at any moment. Kakashi had always been as skittish as a newborn colt. Ready to bolt if given half a chance. As much as he hated the man, his body responded so well to his own. Perhaps it was the domination, the ownership of such a powerful shinobi, that he truly enjoyed.
Long hours had passed in the quiet of his little cousin's spare bedroom, making love to a man he hated. When Kakashi had finally fallen asleep as Obito stroked his arm, Obito carefully tucked the blankets around him and left the room. Doting lover, tender lover, caring friend, he could play the roles so well. It was all a second skin to him, easily shed and put on like one would a sweater. Someday, he wouldn't have to pretend so much.
AN: Thank you for reading! If you have time, please leave a comment.
This chapter has been rewritten a few times, and I'm still not sure I'm happy with how it ended up. But it was a re-write more because of the smut in the next chapter not matching the tone that Mina and Shisui leave off on. Right now, I'm currently writing Chapter 35.
Some other current projects include hosting a fandom event in the end of December, two Itachi/Sakura/Shisui long-fics; Game of the Gods (an OC/Shisui); and various one-shots. I'm super excited about the Uchiha sandwich fics, btw. They're turning out so well! Follow me on Tumblr for updates!
Beta'ed by: CherryBerry12