The Lost Family (Uchiha, Obito Story)

Chapter III

Chapter Three:

I think he thought I was Rin. Okay, yeah, that hurt, but what could I say? Oh well, I wonder why he was blushing? Maybe it’s just my tired eyes playing tricks on me. Stupid eyes, they should decive me like that.

It think he was going to answer me, but instead something over my shoulder caught his eye, probably my posters of him. Oh Kami, now I’m an official stalker. I stood up, to get away from him and turn off the alarm, but he reached out and pulled me back down, much to my surprise.

“What?” I asked in a squeak, the squeak showing the worry I felt. Did he feel okay? Or was this about the posters? Oh, please tell me he didn't see the posters.

“Where did you...” His eyes trailed slowly from the poster to mine, then went back to the poster. Ah shit.

Avoiding the question I pried his hand off my arm and put the covers back around him, “What posters? Go back to sleep, you’re still tired.” I choked out, trying my best not to let a stutter fall from my lips.

Confusion seemed to fill his dark eyes and he shook his head. Nodding, he let me go and closed his eyes. I watched silently for a minute as if he was my father, as if I wasn’t allowed to leave until his breathing was even and he was deep asleep. The stepbitch took her kids to school, I had to walk. I checked the time, 5:26. I had enough time to eat, check on my dad, feed my dad and maybe leave food for Obito, then head out and get to school on time. Oh, the fun of having responsibilities.

When his breathing became even and he didn’t open his eyes when I waved my hand in front of his face, I got up and checked the clock, 5:35. I walked quickly out of my room and, avoiding the stupid toys my spoiled step childs had strewn all over thier playroom floor, I went down stairs and made myself a beagle, a semi lunch that consisted of a voltage and sandwich, and got out my dad’s food. While heating my dad’s food, my beagle pronounced itself done and I buttered it, like a boss. Yes, I say that, mostly because it is true and it helps with selfesteem.

I checked the clock again and saw that it was 5:57 so I scooped my father’s food into a bowl and brought it to him. Gently waking him up, he greeted me with a, “Ah, my precious, what have you got me today?” His voice was scratchy and sounded as if he had been recently choked

“Dad, open wide.” I started to feed him and he complied easily, his nerve for trying to do things by himself now gone when he sucked up his pride as he realized that the more he put strain on his body, the less years he will have to live and be with his awesome daughter. I scooped the last bit of his food into his mouth and then planted a kiss on his forehead. “I’ll be at school, call if you really need anything, okay? Winter break will be soon, so it’s not like I’m missing much anyway.”

He gave me a crooked smile, his black eyes and hair contrasting greatly with his smooth, pale skin. My dad made us all the money, but with him being so sick you might wonder how. Well, sometimes he defies me and goes, let me say, he does clean up nicely. But that’s not my point, its the fact that he has a high pain tolerance and likes to defy me, though he does mostly comply and listen.

“If you go to work again today, I’m going to tie you to this bed.” I informed him with a smile as I watched him fiddle with the hem of his bed sheets, glancing at the clock then the closet.

He cleared his throat and closed his eyes, he reopened them and gave me a charming smirk while sitting up smoothly, “Really? I don’t think you’re fast enough, mom.” He chuckled, rubbing the hair on my head. The rawness in his voice was gone and his features were soft, relaxed, not tense with pain. The sight made tears come to my eyes, but I blinked them away.