Scar Tissue

Chapter Eighteen

Two weeks passed, and each evening Obito watched Kakashi and, less intently, his friends, trying to commit the way they looked and moved to memory. Each night he remembered the things he'd seen that day, recalling a smile or the way light fell through the windows. Each morning he woke and held his breath while he opened his eye, afraid that the small tunnel that had been his vision would be gone, and relieved when it wasn't.

Smaller, each day. But not gone.

One day poured into another, blissfully happy and laughingly silly and occasionally heart stoppingly painful. But it was life, and he was free.

When the blue-haired Jounin started spending large amounts of time in his bar, Obito noticed the man and didn't think anything about it. It was days before he mentioned the man to Kakashi, and only then realized they were never there at the same time. And Kakashi didn't seem to have missions that took him away overnight anymore; his clothes had somehow migrated to Obito's studio apartment behind the bar, as had his toiletries and Pakkun--who was there when neither Kakashi nor the blue haired Jounin was.

That night, when Kakashi sauntered into the bar still wearing most of his ANBU uniform--minus the mask, and thankfully clean--the blue haired Jounin tucked his book away and left.

Obito watched him go, narrow eyed. "Kash?" he asked mildly when his lover came behind the bar to greet him with a kiss that didn't turn heads anymore.

"Hm?"

"What's going on?"

Kakashi smiled, tipping his head. "What are you talking about?"

Obito looked toward the door, searching it out, and frowned when he couldn't see the Jounin anymore. "Nothing," he said, watching as the door opened and Ibiki came wandering in. Kakashi could be frustratingly closed-mouthed when he wanted to be; he elevated not-speaking to an art form. Obito had found ways around him, though.

Ways that involved other ninja, mostly. Like Ibiki.

"Hey, Ibiki," Obito said, loudly enough for Kakashi to hear. "What's with the blue-haired Jounin?"

Ibiki glanced between the two men behind the bar, then locked gazes with Obito. "Who, your guard?"

Obito's eyebrows rose, making his eyepatch shift. He heard Kakashi curse softly. When he turned to look, Kakashi was leaning against the bar, looking annoyed.

"Maybe someone else should tend bar for a little while," Kakashi murmured, staring at the rows of bottles behind the counter.

"I don't--" Obito began, but then Ibiki wandered around the back.

The scarred man paused at Kakashi, murmuring, "Dumbass," then turned to a customer and offered another drink.

Kakashi gave the man a bland look, then turned and headed toward the back and the bedroom. Obito followed, leaning on his cane in a pattern he'd grown used to. Step lean, step lean. He closed the door behind him when they got into his apartment. Kakashi was pacing in his not-pacing way, as if he were really just wandering the room, relaxed and bored and looking at things. A step here, another there, a pause to eye the table.

Obito waited.

Finally, Kakashi turned to him. "Someone thought they saw Akatsuki robes not too far away."

Obito frowned. It meant almost nothing to him; he knew about the problems with the group from Kakashi, but little else.

"We're worried that it could have been Itachi."

Uchiha Itachi. His stomach grew heavy. Cold. "The man who killed my clan."

Kakashi gave one short nod.

"Oh." The word fell from his lips, landing softly on the floor. He took the two steps he needed to get to the big chair, and sat heavily. "You think... he's back to finish off the rest?" Which was only Obito, now.

"We don't even know if it's him," Kakashi said softly. "We're just taking the precaution."

"So you... and blue hair... and Pakkun?" he asked.

Kakashi put his hands in his pockets, standing beside the chair. "Guards. Just to keep an eye on things."

"But it's just a precaution?" Obito asked, even as the remnants of his ninja self whispered that they didn't need Jounin to act as guards.

"Just a precaution," Kakashi confirmed soothingly. "Until we confirm if the Akatsuki have left the area."

Obito nodded. "Dead-last," he muttered darkly. "Let me know when things like this happen, all right?"

Kakashi smiled brightly, his visible eye arcing. "Sure thing, cry-baby."

Obito gave a weak little laugh. "I'm a ninja, you know," he said firmly.

"Of course."

"And an Uchiha."

Kakashi nodded solemnly. "Prickly."

Obito jabbed at him with his cane. "Jerk."

Kakashi beamed.

**

"Again."

"I can't do it again, Ibiki," Obito panted, slim focus on his hands, braced on the grass in front of him.

"Of course you can. Do it again."

He hadn't expected that Ibiki would be a *slave driver.* Obito looked up, searching for Ibiki, wanting to narrow his eyes and glare but afraid that it would cut down on what vision he had. "I *can't.*" He found Ibiki's feet and swept his gaze up, over the heavy coat, up to the scarred face and the hitai-ate covering his head.

All Obito could see was Ibiki's face, once his gaze landed there. He remembered the arms folded across the man's chest, though, and he didn't think Ibiki had shifted. Obito bit back the frustrated shout, shaking his head when hair fell in his face. It only moved a little, but that little was enough to let him see again.

Screaming didn't work on Ibiki. He'd learned that the hard way. But sometimes, if he explained, Ibiki would listen.

"My arms burn," he said through gritted teeth, feeling his face go red. He hated to admit it, hated the weakness.

Ibiki scowled--he never did anything so mild as frowning. "Let me see." The man moved closer, and Obito sat back and held out his arms, trying not to be humiliated.

He felt hands on his wrists, pulling his arms straighter, and then the soft, soothing glow of someone else's chakra ghosting over his. Ibiki made an annoyed little noise.

"The scarring is fighting the way you're trying to shape your chakra. Hiashi-san, what do you think?"

Obito jumped and looked around quickly, previously unaware that someone had arrived. He couldn't *see* Hiashi, though, no matter how fast he quartered the area.

"I think I'm not a nursemaid," Hiashi said dryly, giving Obito an idea of where he was.

Obito grabbed his cane--always near his right knee--and struggled up to his feet, angry. "I don't need a nursemaid," he snapped, still unable to find the other man, even knowing where he stood. Frustrated, he let the Sharingan spiral up. The world went gray and red, though it seemed to be darker at the edges than it once had.

He tried to believe that was just his imagination.

Hiashi's chakra was bright, like a beacon in the red world. Obito focused on him and let the Sharingan fade. He glared furiously.

The Hyuuga only gave him a mild look and turned slightly, including both Obito and Ibiki in his next words. "The Akatsuki were sighted again, closer. Tsunade has ordered that Obito have a close guard. She'll be sending Jiro later, and until then you're to stay in close contact. When Kakashi returns from his mission, he'll take over."

Obito took a deep breath, trying to appear calm and unconcerned even if he really wasn't. "Do they know which Akatsuki were seen?"

Hiashi turned to look at him, long hair sliding over his shoulders. "One of them was a giant, and had a blue face. The only Akatsuki we know who fits that description is Hoshigaki Kisame, who accompanies Uchiha Itachi. But we don't know most of the Akatsuki, so it could be nothing."

Obito nodded silently.

"Even if they are here," Ibiki said, "it doesn't mean they're after you. They move around. They're looking for Naruto."

Obito turned, grateful that Ibiki hadn't moved and he was easy to find. "Who?"

"The kyuubi," Hiashi interjected.

Obito let his gaze wander a little, searching his mind and all the new information he'd had crammed in over the last several months. The important things were never talked about, and often harder to remember for it. But Kyuubi... he felt that one he should know.

Hiashi started to speak; Obito heard the intake of breath, and then sudden quiet. Obito assumed Ibiki had silenced the other man.

"The demon that killed the Fourth," he said finally, remembering. "It was stuffed into a kid, right? Kakashi's student." Right. Naruto. He nodded firmly. "So… they might be looking for him?" He felt a little relieved that it might not be him they were after, and guilty for feeling relieved. It was just a kid. Or a demon? He wasn't sure how that worked. "Will Naruto be okay?" he asked, if only to assuage his guilt.

"He has one of the Sannin watching over him," Ibiki said.

"And I have three of you watching over me," Obito said, forcing a smile.

"It'll be fine," Ibiki said quietly.

Obito tightened and relaxed his grip on his cane. Itachi couldn't be that bad, could he? The Jounin here were amazing; surely Obito wasn't important enough for Itachi to come through all of them just to get him.

"Obito?"

He jumped and turned to look at Ibiki.

"Ready to practice?"

Obito nodded, pushing the thoughts of one of the last Uchiha out of his mind.

**

Kakashi didn't really think Obito was in any danger. If he thought Obito was in danger, he'd never be able to leave.

But days were passing, and while the sightings continued nothing more happened. Ibiki and Jiro watched over Obito while Kakashi was gone, and Tsunade saw to it that Kakashi was never gone for long periods at a time.

He was grateful the Sharingan bloodline was important to protect. He had no delusions that it was Obito himself earning this protection. Tsunade liked the Uchiha, but the village came first, and they were struggling--they needed all their Jounin working, not playing watchdog. The Sharingan, however, was important enough to guard.

It reassured Kakashi. It made it possible for him to go out on missions, to leave his sleeping lover at midnight hours and fade into the night, sure that Obito would still be there when he returned.

He fled off over rooftops, checking first to be sure Jiro was in the bar, certain in Obito's security.

It surprised him how much his life had changed in the last months. The vague dissatisfaction was gone, and he looked forward to his days again. He looked forward to Obito's laugh, his smile, even the face that went red with anger and the quick flashes of temper.

It surprised him how much he liked Obito. He didn't like the thought of living alone anymore; he'd practically moved into Obito's bar apartment. The very memory of the other man made him smile.

He had someone in his life again, and it made all the difference in the world.

**

Obito spent the day with Ibiki, practicing henge and bunshin and trying to re-learn kawarimi. Once upon a time, he'd been a master at these things--now, they were a struggle, pulling chakra through twisted pathways. But it was a struggle he was winning.

Afterward, Ibiki waited around while he opened the bar. The Jounin sat and did paperwork at a table, aides coming and going. As the night drew to a close, Jiro arrived and Ibiki left, and a few hours after that Obito closed the bar.

Over the last days he'd gotten to know Jiro fairly well; he gave the man tea--Jiro didn't drink on the job--and started up a conversation, glancing out the windows occasionally. He was expecting Kakashi back at any moment, though it could be morning before his lover returned.

His lover. That felt so strange. It made him grin.

"You look happy tonight," Jiro noted, tipping his head and letting blue hair fall, long and shaggy, into teal green eyes.

Obito shrugged, still smiling as he washed the last of the glasses. "Kakashi's pretty much moved in. I was at his apartment with him to get something the other day, and I realized he's got furniture in there still, but not much else."

Jiro laughed, sipping tea. "That makes you happy? You enjoy being with him, don't you?"

Obito dried the glasses, feeling a blush climb his cheeks. "I do. He's... not what I remembered. I think--" he paused, locking the words behind his lips.

"You're in love?" Jiro asked wistfully.

Obito glanced up, blushing brighter. "Maybe." He laughed, picking up bowls of pretzels and carrying them out back, into the bar's kitchen. "It's funny, you know. I hated him for so long... sometimes I still feel it, but it goes away now."

"That's normal," Jiro's voice called from the darkness behind Obito. "Does Kakashi get upset?"

Obito shook his head, putting the bowls away, checking to make sure he had food for the next day. He needed to hire a cook. And a band, according to Raidou. Maybe. He'd think about it. "He seems to understand. It never lasts very long, and he seems to know when I need time and when I need him." Everything was sorted for the next day. Obito pulled cold chicken wings from the fridge before closing it and hobbling back into the bar, eyes carefully on where he was going. "I mean, he left me. And even though I know now what happened, it hurt for so long..." He paused at the bar, setting the plate on the counter. "My therapist said it just takes time, and I should talk to Kakashi about it as often as possible. It's still not easy, though. She says my inner child still feels abandoned." He rolled his eyes, laughing.

Jiro didn't laugh back.

Obito glanced toward the bar, trying to share in the joke, hoping he hadn't just alienated the Jounin. He liked Jiro.

But the barstools were empty. Obito frowned. Bathroom? Except Jiro wasn't supposed to even do that without telling Obito first, and besides, it was just plain rude, leaving someone and letting them prattle on, unaware you'd left--

He leaned over the bar, and froze.

A spreading stain, dark, nearly black. He let his gaze travel around it, finding the edges, tracing them back.

Saw a pale foot in a sandal. Traced it up. Up a lax leg, clad in black pants that shone wetly. Up a torso, lying in the black puddle. Up to the face, eyes open and unseeing, blood spreading from eyes and ears and mouth, more blood than Obito had ever seen--as if it had escaped the horror of the man's head.

"Oh, gods," Obito breathed, and looked up and around, but his vision was too narrow. He could see nothing, just feel the heavy silence. His Sharingan spiraled up, his sight opening suddenly.

Jiro had no chakra. Jiro was dead. But behind him were two forms, one sprawled in a chair, the other standing silently. He blinked, forcing the Sharingan stronger, and saw them in blood red and black as well as he might have in color.

A thin, slight man with long hair and dead eyes watched him, completely still. The sprawling man was huge, with great muscles and hungry eyes. He had a mouthful of sharp teeth, and a giant sword rested behind him.

"Well, Itachi? You certain it's him, now?" the monster asked, lazily tracing a pattern on the tabletop.

Obito couldn't breathe. Itachi blinked slowly, regarding him. His lip lifted in the barest of sneers. Obito watched chakra gather in the man's eyes.

"Yes," Itachi said, and that single word carried all the disdain and disgust of the world.

And he was going to die. Obito felt himself nearly laugh. Of course he was going to die. It should have happened years ago, when the rocks fell on him. He took a moment, a breath, to give thanks that he'd had a chance. A chance to live again, a chance to have friends and a life and--and Kakashi.

And he wasn't ready to die.

For a moment, he prepared to fight--but he'd last no time at all doing that. The jutsu he'd painfully learned over the last few days couldn't help him against Itachi. He wasn't a ninja anymore, and while he'd said that many times over the last while, he suddenly understood it: he wasn't a ninja. He was crippled, and he was alive, and his life was good despite--no, because of everything. Because if he hadn't been crippled, he wouldn't have the things he did now.

He stopped fighting reality, and felt acceptance settle on his shoulders. He wasn't a ninja. Obito took a deep breath, shaking, and tried to buy time. "Will this hurt?"

The words made the Uchiha pause. "It doesn't have to."

Obito let his Sharingan fade, shaking with terror he didn't have to feign.

"Ita-kun, hurry it up. We've got a schedule to keep."

Obito didn't take his gaze off his clan member, ignoring the monster in the corner in favor of the one right in front of him. "I've been waiting for you," Obito blurted out, stalling. "You can see how I'm living--no Uchiha should live like this. Nearly blind, watching the man who stole my eye live in luxury, having to live with him in my house, my bed--" he let his voice rise, willing the anger he'd lived with for so long to rise again. "I can't be a ninja, I can't walk--" He circled the bar, leaning heavily on his cane, nearly stumbling as he walked toward Itachi, watching the disgust grow.

He fed it, not knowing if the gamble would work. People had fought Itachi and died; no one had agreed with him about their own slaughter.

Itachi took a step away from him, as if he were diseased. Obito kept stumbling forward.

"You killed everyone else," Obito nearly shouted, letting his desperation show through. "You killed them and left me--kill me! Let me out of this damned half life!" He'd forgotten Jiro's body. He caught the leg and fell hard, the world spinning out of control.

"You're pathetic," Itachi hissed. "Get up."

"This is the last of your infamous clan, Itachi? Hm," came the voice from the chair.

Obito pulled himself off Jiro's body, sliding through blood. He couldn't find his cane. He searched for it and talked at once. "You're right. I'm pathetic. You have to kill me. It's practically a promise," he begged, feeling around the floor. "You can't leave me like this."

"You're shaming our entire clan," Itachi murmured, voice cold.

"I know," Obito said, sick and quivering and hoping that the man would *leave.*

"Itachi, company's on the way," the monster said.

"Kill me," Obito said, lunging forward, grabbing at the edge of Itachi's robe and clinging. "Quickly. Don't leave me like this." A hand grabbed the back of his shirt and hauled, lifting him up off the floor. He rose past Itachi's hands, realized it was the monster who'd pulled up him.

"Well?" the monster asked, breath hot on Obito's neck. Obito shuddered.

"Leave him," Itachi murmured. "He's not an Uchiha. We'll give my little brother something else to hate me for--allowing our clan this shame."

Obito didn't have a chance to be relieved. His stomach lurched and suddenly he was flying through the air, smashing into a table, crashing down into wooden chairs, closing his eyes and trying to protect his head but not managing it, shoulders and arms slamming into edges before he hit the floor, and then crying out when the furniture landed on him, smashing in.

He lay, afraid to move, not knowing if Itachi and Kisame were still there, not wanting to attract attention. Finally, he activated the Sharingan and looked around, shoving chairs off him, ignoring the pain of new injuries and newly injured old ones.

No chakra. The room was empty. He took a breath, and another, shaking. He was alive. He was alive, and they were gone--

Windows shattered. Obito screamed, feeling himself channel chakra instinctively, ripping through scarred pathways--

"That way! Go!" a voice shouted, and two Jounin leapt past Obito and out the open door. The bells didn't even chime. "Kakashi--" the voice said, and Obito saw his lover kneel in front of him, throwing the table to one side.

"I have Obito," Kakashi said, looking over Obito's head. "Go."

Fast movement, too fast for Obito to follow, and then the room was empty except for him and Kakashi and a corpse.

"Oh, gods," Obito breathed, shaking. "Jiro--"

"He's home now," Kakashi said, running steady hands over Obito's arms and legs, checking him rapidly for injury.

"Itachi--" Obito began.

"Gone. They're going to try to catch him..." Kakashi stooped, scooping Obito up off the floor and sprinting for the window they'd come through.

"They won't," Obito whispered, wrapping his arms around Kakashi's neck and closing his eyes.

"No," Kakashi said. "But you're safe. I have you."

Obito nodded, adrenaline coursing through him, making him tremble, making the pain of his crash edge into the background. "He didn't kill me," Obito breathed, realizing it was true. He was alive.

They landed somewhere--Obito couldn't tell--and Kakashi pulled him down to the floor, forcing him to lay and be still while those sure hands went over him again. "No. He didn't kill you." Then strong fingers held his chin, and Kakashi was hovering over him, both eyes searching Obito's single one. "What happened?"

Obito shivered, skin chilling as shock set in. "I--I told him to kill me. I disgusted him." He'd disgusted himself. "I made him hate me, and he let me live--"

"Thank you," Kakashi whispered, leaning in, pressing his face to Obito's neck. "Thank you, thank you--"

Kakashi was shaking. Obito felt his own breath hitch, wrapping his arms up around the slim man above him, clinging. He was baffled, frightened, relieved--too many things to put a name on one. He hadn't realized Kakashi was rattled until just that moment.

"Thank you for not dying. Thank you for doing what you had to to live. Thank you."

It shook him. Obito shuddered. Itachi was gone. Itachi had come to kill him, and now Obito was safe in Kakashi's arms. Kakashi had come for him. He was alive.

"Thank you," Kakashi whispered again, "I love you. Stay alive. Don't leave again."

"No," Obito whispered, holding the man above him tightly. "I won't. If I do, you have to come for me." His voice broke, tears gathering in his single eye. "You have to come."

He felt Kakashi nod, slid a hand through his hair, picking him up slightly and holding him closer. "Always."

"I love you," Obito whispered, grip tightening.

A door opened. Obito jumped, looking around half desperately, fear making his gut clench. His gaze darting, the Sharingan activated so he could see better.

He was in the mission office. Ibiki stood in the doorway, looking frustrated. "He's gone."

"Of course he is," Kakashi murmured, pulling Obito close and sliding them both over to the wall. They remained on the floor, Obito pressing himself to Kakashi's chest, strong arms around him, feeling Kakashi lean against the wall.

"Obito? How are you?"

"Bruised," Obito said, letting the Sharingan fade. "But I'm all right. I'm alive." He shook, feeling shock steal up on him. "I'm alive." Kakashi's grip tightened.

The two men spoke further, but Obito stopped listening. He curled into his lover, letting himself crash, listening to the rise and fall of voices without hearing the words.

He was alive. Gods. He was alive.

********