𝐫𝐮𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐬 ; u. obito & h. kakashi

𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐱

⚠️[Abuse!! If you want you can dm me for a recap on the chap if you skip this one]⚠️

You never did have the best relationship with your dad.

Or a good one in general.

Trudging forward through the door, with your tiny thirteen-year-old body, you weren't surprised with the sight of the disgusting man -that you were, unfortunately, "blessed" with to call your father- passed out on the couch surrounded by alcoholic beverages and cigars.

He was the typical alcoholic, neglective father that one would find in some sappy movie or book. But this is different. This is real life.

The disgusting smell of the drinks and smoke was proof of that.

With a bit of a potbelly and the usual white tank with stains decorating it, he snored away. His sweatpants thankfully concealed the hairiness of his legs, though his tank top did no justice in that. With the short style of his (Diff color) hair already receding, it was messed up and improper as one would expect when sleeping.

"Welcome home, (Y/n)." Your mother silently greeted through the kitchen where she worked on dinner as quietly as possible, not wanting to wake the male up from his slumber. She would have to face his wrath if so.

Fear, you noted. The woman whom you looked up to used to be excessively bright and pretty loud. Now reduced to a more timid and silent person, it was the work of your father's horrible mistreatment.

The low bubbling of the soup in the large pot managed to enter your ears, along with the smell intensifying the closer you moved towards your mother. Greeting her with a hug and kiss to her temple, you moved away to head upstairs and work on homework.

Good grades are needed to be maintained. Dad doesn't want a halfwit of a daughter.

He doesn't want to be embarrassed with an idiotic daughter that doesn't go to college. Well, he just wants to live through you.

Dad didn't go to college because he's way too incompetent for that. A few years later he decided he regretted it after having a child, you, with mom.

So why not just force your goals onto your only child and become a lousy excuse of a human?

"Mother fucker." You sneered, angrily scribbling down answers to the questions on the sheet of paper.

Music played in the background, filling in the ringing silence. The windows that were opened provided air to breeze through your room, a pleasing chilling sensation running itself down your body.

"Vacuous, despicable, contaminated, egomaniacal, layabout, freeloader,"

Insult after insult spilled through your lips towards the one you had to call father, hate bubbling up in your normally loving and positive being.

"I sure hope that you were talking about yourself," you froze up at the unexpected sound of your father's voice. "Or else you can kiss your privileges goodbye."

Your nose scrunched up at the walking bacteria of a man when his stench reached you, infecting your room with his dirtiness as well. Gritting your teeth and clenching your fists, you nodded. "Yea..."

"'Yea' what?"

When he reached the side of your bed, you refused to make eye contact and instead stared at the homework.

"I'm vacuous, I'm despicable, I'm contaminated, I'm egomaniacal, I'm a layabout, I'm a free-loader." You muttered, highly aware of the hand that stuck itself out to you, awaiting a certain item to be dropped into his palm.