When the world’s two most betrayed, confused and furious teenagers meet by a chance of fate, hell’s gates are about to swing open.
Summer was a fairly morbid affair, and the sheer glare of the sun’s rays felt like burning coals on his bare back. Sixteen year old Obito ran a hand through his inky hair, a clear coating of sweat on his darkened, uneven skin: a pasty pale half, and a more natural tan on the other side. The rushing water of the waterfall drowned out the chirping of possibly dehydrated birds resting in the cover of the trees nearby. Obito shook his head, ridding his hair of the moisture, and stepped under the heavy downpour, the water heated from days and days of unbearable humidity.
Not more than a few minutes later, he heard the clacking of sandals on stone. The rocky cave that was now their impromptu residence was located not too far off from Iwa’s border, and that showed in the terrain that surrounded them. Steep hills, dense foliage, sweltering temperature, and an utter lack of cool wind was the typical definition, and Obito couldn’t agree more. He found himself missing Konoha’s almost perfect weather.
“What do you want?” he finally asked, feeling the man’s gaze on the back of his head. He sat with his face turned away from the mouth of the cave, his eyes shut.
It was always Obito who initiated any conversation between them. Never Madara, with his now faded grey mane of hair, or his imposing height, even in his old age. Never him, no. The Uchiha clan’s ex-leader would never lower himself to that; he commanded respect and attention, regardless of the people around him.
Madara didn’t deem him good enough to converse with, even though he, Obito, was good enough to use as a pawn.
He knew he would be discarded sooner or later, but that was still far off in the future. For now, he would play Madara’s game.