*This is the prequel to the actual story which isn't finished yet.
Latest Update:COMPLETE
Summary: Her home didn't have tatami mat flooring, sliding doors, and wooden verandas. Her home did not look like this, with its open screens and off white colors and natural wooden furniture. Her home was busy and loud and full, she remembered that much, not this quiet stillness that was only ever interrupted by large dark eyes and hair and a smile that only ever grew when she looked at it and –
"Hi Aya-chan," He was quiet when he spoke to her, always quiet, as if there was something wrong with speaking any louder. "I found a frog today." And off he went, telling her all about his day – yesterday he had found a bird's nest in one of the trees he climbed at the park – and just as she had then, she just watched him and listened. She would hum when he'd stop, prompting him to talk more.
It was the most noise she would get each day and she hated the quiet stillness that surrounded her. The only other interaction she had with a person was the elderly woman that would look after her. But even she couldn't talk all day long. Not like Obito could.
Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20161321?view_full_work=true
Word count:25k
Chapters:10
Chapter 1
Chapter Text
She knew she wasn't supposed to be there; she still remembered TVs and video games and music videos, though her memory of what was on them was fuzzy, but she knew. This was not her home. Her home had cheap wood floors that shoes trampled on day in and day out; her home had plastered half-ass painted walls and old ceiling fans and store-bought brass door knobs and locks.
Her home didn't have tatami mat flooring, sliding doors, and wooden verandas. Her home did not look like this, with its open screens and off white colors and natural wooden furniture. Her home was busy and loud and full, she remembered that much, not this quiet stillness that was only ever interrupted by large dark eyes and hair and a smile that only ever grew when she looked at it and –
"Hi Aya-chan," He was quiet when he spoke to her, always quiet, as if there was something wrong with speaking any louder. "I found a frog today." And off he went, telling her all about his day – yesterday he had found a bird's nest in one of the trees he climbed at the park – and just as she had then, she just watched him and listened. She would hum when he'd stop, prompting him to talk more.
It was the most noise she would get each day and she hated the quiet stillness that surrounded her. The only other interaction she had with a person was the elderly woman that would look after her. But even she couldn't talk all day long. Not like Obito could.
~~
Obito was barely older than her, a few years if she was to compare their similarly small sizes to one another – an opportunity she was given quite often when Obito decided he was going to put her hair in sloppy pigtails and sat them both in front of the old woman's full mirror. They looked alike, with their pale complexions and dark hair and eyes and oh… the eyes… She missed her color – couldn't remember what it had been – but these eyes were pretty; long lashes and an endless pool of ink.
She missed writing, too, nearly as much as she missed reading, but Obito was enough. Obito, for so long, was enough.
And then Obito had to start school. He looked about the age, so she wouldn't complain too much about it. He was in tears the morning he had to go, squishing her face to his and nuzzling it and talking about how he didn't want to go without her and was going to come back as soon as he could to tell her all about his day.
Obito really was her favorite person.
Walking through the house before had always seemed like an adventure with Obito holding her hand and chattering away and making everything seem much more fanciful and new and exciting than it really was; the reminder of his absence made her feel cold and everything dull.
She had seen the living room, with its simply-placed furniture and sparsely decorated area – not the grand arena Obito swore it was with battles and victories and historic legends.
The kitchen was plain, too, everything in its proper place and tucked away if not out in the open – not Obito's feast hall with delicacies and platters from near and far and with difficult to pronounce names and ingredients he had made up himself.
The bedroom, the hallway, the bathroom even; none of it was the same as it was when Obito was there. It was almost depressing. She knew he'd be back though, he said he would be, and he would tell her all about his day and the Academy he had just started and what his teacher was like and his classmates and…
She missed him so much when he was gone.
~~
Her mind was still as it had been before, not that she could remember fine details but she remembered the broader subjects, like drawing and staying in the lines and how long it had taken her to learn how to get everything just right because she wasn't the artistic one in the family and struggled constantly to put thoughts to paper enough as it was and –
Obito loved her drawings, though; shitty as she thought they were. He thought they were the greatest things ever. Treasure maps and secret ninja scrolls and sly hidden messages and wanted posters – there was never an end to any of the things she made him. Even when they were actually fairly normal things.
He kept them all, though; she watched him tuck each and every one into a drawer by his bed and she'd smile.
~~
She was a newly turned two, Obito had been at the Academy for a year and had turned five a while prior, when she first met one of his friends. She was pretty, brown hair and lighter brown eyes, with purple markings on her face. There was something about them that she had found odd but she overlooked it because Obito was happy and showing her off and the old woman he called 'Obaa-san' was teasing him about giving her great-grandkids.
Insanity. The lot of it.
Her name was Rin – pretty name – and she was on her very best behavior for her Obi-nii-san. With her not acting like other kids her age, she had overheard 'Obaa-san' say so herself, she was a proper little child in front of her brother's crush. And watching him shift and stutter and blush was just as amusing as she had thought it would be.
She liked Rin… so long as she didn't hurt Obito, she wouldn't have to change her opinion of her.
~~
"Do you want to play ninja with us?" He was adorable. He wasn't pale like everyone else she had met, but had a beautifull dark tan, with dark-ish brown hair and even darker brown eyes. He had a wide grin on his face and had his hand held out to her. Normally, she didn't play with the kids – she knew, physically, that she was one but mentally she was older… so much older… but how old? – but there was just something about him that told her it would be alright.
She reached out and grabbed his hand and he tugged her with him over to a group of other kids, most of which she had turned down once before. She could see some of them starting to snub her, to turn their noses up and away and pointedly ignore her. But the boy that dragged her closer said, "She's going to play ninja with us too!"
Hell if she even knew what playing ninja was.
"My name's Iruka!" The grin never left his face and she was reminded of Obito for just the briefest of moments. "What's your name?"
"Ayame."
Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20161321?view_full_work=true