New Chances - (Reformed!Obito x Oc) - (Complete)

VI

"Get a hold of yourself!" Kakashi gripped his best friend by the arms, the man starting to almost boil under his fingertips. He was like a wild animal, his dark hair stood on end, his eye widened, Sharingan switching between 3 tomoe and Mangekyou and back rapidly. Luckily, the cool night air was starting to take effect on him, as after a few excruciatingly long moments, Obito began to breathe more deeply, his eye closing and his shoulders slumping into his friend's grasp. Kakashi was worried now. What Obito had done to protect his new life in Konoha would more than likely lead to his downfall anyway. His emotions were spiraling and bouncing back and forth between nonexistent and full blast. Kakashi's mind wandered to Sasuke. The young man had often had the same problems. Not that Obito was a cookie-cutter Uchiha, that was far from the truth, but still, he could not escape the 'curse of hatred' that lingered in the brains of Uchihas.

When Obito's breathing relaxed and he deactivated his visual jutsu, Kakashi loosened his grip. He was shaking where he stood. Panic was starting to set in now. He knew it wouldn't be easy for Obito to settle into a new life, not after his entire teen and adult life being manipulated by Madara for the soul purpose of bringing him back to life and executing the Tsukuyomi. In fact, Obito had went through some very difficult first years, learning to control his paranoia and his outbursts, the panic attacks (mostly at night), the inner struggle on who he really was and how he could reconcile what he had done with who he had an opportunity to be. Obito had really gotten settled kind of nicely about a year or two ago, finding some dark humor as a way to connect with Kakashi. Though the man was no more like the young happy Obito he knew as a child, Kakashi still loved him. He had become far too serious, a molded Uchiha, as his best friend would reference. With Kri though, Obito was letting himself be more true. He would crack terrible jokes, snicker, and make sarcastic remarks at Kakashi. He'd smile more and get excited to see her, although not as excited as the young boy he used to be. Kakashi had understood, Obito could never go back to what he was, but he could find more of himself in pieces of his past, to create who he wanted to be today.

It all changed again when he got terrified of Kri's actions, what she might think, or how disgusted he thought she would be when she saw his face...or if he told her the truth. He dropped her out of nowhere, and Kakashi couldn't blame her or her friends for being cold to Obito for it. But what she did in the restaurant was downright vicious. It hurt him to see his friend all messed up like this again.

"Obito." He whispered, the dark alley granting them a bit of privacy. Ragged breathing was his answer, strong hands on his shoulders. When Obito opened his eye again, Kakashi tried to give him an empathetic smile. "Let's just go home."

Obito said nothing the remainder of the night, trying to regain some sort of dignity. Instead, he opted to go to bed early instead.

Something was off. This nightmare was different than the normal nightly one. There was no Rin. No blood. No screaming. No. It was something else. Darkness. Moans. Where? Where is it coming from? More moans, louder, sweeter. That voice. "Kri?" Obito tried to speak, unable to call out. Is she hurt? Darkness, the sounds of shifting, the smell of sweat and heat. More moans, sweet calls, making Obito's heart seize. He moved, searching in the darkness, unable to see. Try as he might, he could not activate his Sharingan. He could not find her. The sounds continued in the darkness. It unnerved him but he continued to move, trying to find her. Then a grunt. Male. His blood rushed. He knew what was happening and he had no power to stop it. Darkness opened up, his vision burnt by the sight of another man taking Kri in full, her perfect form arching and clawing at him, being desecrated by him. Obito's heart shattered, his blood running cold, forced to watch this scene, to listen to it, to see her beautiful blue eyes flutter at the touch of another. He couldn't move, frozen in his own nightmare. He trashed, trying to move his body as much as his will would let him, only jerky and sporadic movements reacted to his brain. But there was nothing he could do. He tried to scream, to move, to do anything but he couldn't for agonizing, blazing, painful moments he trashed. A loud noise jarred him awake.