Naruto One Shots

Little Lady #1 (Obito Uchiha)

[Artwork is not mine! Credit to mocca1226]

Requested by: Anonymous

Word Count: 4,024

Warnings and/or Pre-Notes:
- Injuries/Stab Wounds/Blood
- Sorry but you're request is going to be a two-parter

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      "Daku?" I call for my cat after the sound of the fruit bowl getting knocked over - again - wakes me up. As I shift in bed, the feeling of my cat fast asleep on my chest is very apparent. My movements wake up Daku, making him stand up before he stretches himself out. "Daku?" I call quietly this time, panic brewing in my chest.
My cat ignores me, jumping off the bed, and strutting across the room before nuzzling my door open. "Daku?" I call again, trying to keep my panic out of it. If the cat didn't knock over the fruit bowl, what or who did?
     I stay silent, slowly crawling to the end of my bed. My eyes bounce around my room as I move, looking for any kind of weapon. My sights fall on my knitting needles poking out of the basket of yarn resting by the door. Not the best choice but still sharp and deadly with enough intent behind them.
     "Hello Kitty," a soft voice filters into my room, followed by the sound of my cabinets squeaking opening. "Is your human still asleep? I hope so. What's your name?" The imposer continues to coo over my cat, the bell on his collar ringing from being moved.
     I keep my movements slow as I climb out of my bed, inching toward my door left cracked open by Daku. I tug the needles out of the basket too, keeping a good grip on them. I continue to inch to the side, taking a peak outside my door. Limited information is better than no information in this situation.
     Sat on my kitchen floor is a man... I think? He's seated criss-cross, Daku lying in his lap enjoying the petting he's receiving. The man's shirt is off, hanging off the countertop. Random patches of pure white coats his shoulder, the same whiteness painted across his hands, and different dotting across his chest.
     I shift backward, resting against the wall as I think over what to do. What the hell? Who's in my kitchen? What's in my kitchen? Why my kitchen? Why my cat? What can I do? Wait and see what he does? There's not much to steal, so maybe he'll leave easily.
     "Come back, kitty cat," the intruder calls, Daku's bell ringing again, this time paired with footsteps.
     I take another peak around the door frame, my cat bee-lining for me with the intruder trudging after him, making me panic. I try to shoo him away, my fear growing more the closer Daku gets. Daku, being as black cat as ever, ignores me, shoving the door wider before climbing into my lap.
     I scoop him up, keeping him trapped against me as I point the sharp ends of the needles towards the burglar making his way towards us. He slowly pushes the door further open, his sights instantly locked on me. The intruder blinks slowly, cutting off the sights of his weird eyes. They're both swirled, one is purple with multiple swirls, and the other red with a single swirl and a boomerang-like symbol stamped into it. The skin surrounding the red eye covered in scars, easily fifteen to twenty scars decorating half his face. "Hello," he whispers, his voice low and husky instead of the soft cooing like before.
     "Hello," I whisper back, trying to keep my voice strong instead of shaky. I do good at disguising my voice, not so much my hands. They shake as I point my needles at the man, the tips swaying from my nerves.
     The man tilts his head a bit, eyes bouncing from the knitting needles to my face. "Do you... not have any real weapons?" He asks, the softer voice spilling out this time. What the hell is up with this voice change? A personality disorder maybe?
     "Yes, I do," I lie through my teeth, the crack in my voice causing the man to giggle.
     "I don't think you do," he continues to whisper, slowly shifting down so he's closer to my level, knees bent almost to his chest, hands on the ground to help him balance, and only an inch or two away from sitting on the floor. "I'm pretty sure you live by yourself too. A lady should be trained on self-defense if she's alone."
     "Maybe I am trained," I race out, shifting the needle position so they're pointed at his neck. His neck is also half coated in pure white... flesh? "Maybe I'm a shinobi."
     "You have terrible posture. You are not a shinobi," the deeper voice rings out, the silence left after it filled by a soft smile. "My apologies, I..." he giggles, closing his eyes as he tilts his head again, sending another smile my way. "I don't mean you any harm," he adds on, opening his eyes again, his smile less bright now. "I am a bit ill at the moment. I - demand," the deeper voice bargains in, making the man snap his mouth shut as he slowly blinks his eyes. "Apologies, again ma'am. I would appreciate medical aid and some food perhaps. Then I'll be on my way. No harm will be done to you... or your cat."
     "Medical aid?" I mutter, glancing around his bare skin. There's a lacerations littered across the man, some shallow, some deep, some on his chest, and some on his arms. All of which are leaking blood. "I... I can do that."
     "Great! What a lovely lady!" He cheers, snatching the needles from me. He looks around, tossing the needles into the yarn basket. "Let us stitch me up," he continues, scooping up Daku in one arm while he uses the other to tug me to my feet.
     I'm dragged out of my bedroom and tugged into the kitchen. What the hell is going on? Why did I agree to give this man medical attention? Because I'm a nurse and it's my job. Because I don't know what this man will do if I say no. Because I'm a flight-er, not a fighter.
     "Alright, do your thing little lady," the Intruder chirps, releasing my arm from his. He jumps onto the counter, placing Daku in his lap. My cat willingly - and happily - lays down, enjoying the belly rubs he's receiving once again.
     I stand frozen for a moment, my mind split between the situation in front of me and the items I need to patch up my intruder. Wash my hands. That's the first step. I need to wash my hands.
     My body jumps into action, moving forward, toward the sink. I quickly wash my hands, shaking them instead of wiping them off on the dish towel since I'm not sure the last time it's been washed. Pressure, clean, ointment, bandage. I repeat the steps in my head as I bend down, pulling out the box I use as a first aid kit.
     "I should have guessed that," the man mutters, pulling my attention back toward him. "One of these days I'm going to learn to check under the sink," he says to my cat, dangling Daku before setting him on the counter.
     My mind seems to be off as I start the steps, heading towards the intruder on my countertop. After setting the box down, I snap it open, taking out a good chunk of gauze to start adding pressure to one of his wounds.
     The man looks down at me, his sight intense as he watches me slowly stop the bleeding from his multiple wounds. "You're making me nervous," I whisper, dropping the blood-soaked gauze on the counter to cut off a clean chunk, three or four wounds left still trickling with blood.
     "Why are you nervous?" The man asks, his hand raising and resting on my shoulder. I jerk away from the touch, quickly blinking my eyes to try and calm myself down. "Don't do that. That's not how you treat a friend."
     "We're not friends," I whisper, lifting the gauze to check the wound.
     "Of course we are. How aren't we friends?"
     "You broke into my house. You could murder me... or worse. You don't know anything about me and I sure don't know anything about you."
     The man falls quiet, his eyes locked on me as I toss out the pile of blood-soaked gauze before I shift my attention to wetting a rag. "My name is... Obito," he mutters, stalling for a moment. "They call me Tobi at work though. I work for the Akatsuki." The confusion sends shivers down my spine, packing on another layer of fear. "Don't be scared, little lady. No harm will come to you."
     "It's hard to believe that," I whisper, turning around and slowly making my way back toward him. "You work for a terrorist group. Are you going to kill me?" The question feels heavy falling from my mouth, but it feels heavier hanging in the air. Somehow, patting the man - Obito - with the washcloth, cleaning his wounds and the blood covering his two shaded skin keeps me calm.
     "Little Lady," he coos, the same softness he used on Daku. Obito's hand settles on my shoulder again, only for a moment before it's cupping my neck. "I wish for peace in the world. Hurting someone helping me, someone not in my way, or defying me would not bring peace. Don't worry your pretty mind, Little Lady."
     That doesn't help any.