The first time Nohara Rin saw death, she was four.
She was hiding in the closet of her mother’s "room" when the screams started, followed by the smell of blood.
Huddled in the corner, her body shook as she tried to stay quiet. The noise was too much. She covered her ears, lip trembling.
She didn’t know how long she stayed there, in that closet that seemed to shrink around her.
A shinobi found her. Tall, with blonde hair and cold blue eyes.
She didn’t trust him for a second.
He pulled her out and pressed her against his chest, cooing at her with mocking eyes.
(She’d seen those eyes before, in the men her mother brought home when there was no food.)
The redheaded girl with him rolled her eyes, huffing.
“Put the poor girl down, dattebane!”
The blonde whined, holding Rin tighter.
(She wanted to rip his throat out and watch the light fade from his eyes.)
“But, Kushina-chan~, she’s just so cute!”
Rin frowned.
(Her teeth were sharp. She knew she could do it.)
The redhead blushed and screeched something at him, smacking the back of his head before storming off.
He chuckled.
When he looked at Rin, her heart pounded. The way he stared at her made her sick. She wanted to claw his eyes out.
"You'll do well," he muttered, his gaze distant, as if weighing her worth.
(She never saw her mother again. They sent her to the orphanage and forced her into the Ninja Academy.)
(She tried not to think about who signed her up. The orphanage matron hated Shinobi even more than she hated the children under her care.)
When she attended the academy, Rin sat in the back with a serene smile.
(“Smile, Rin-Rin,” her mother had said, her own smile cracked by a split lip. “Smile, so they can’t see your pain.”)
(What her mother never understood was that Rin didn’t smile to hide pain—she smiled to hide her rage. )
A small boy entered the room, black hair, pale skin, and wide eyes. Her heart pounded at the sight of his chubby cheeks. She wanted to coo.
When his eyes nervously scanned the room, they stopped on her. He blushed and shuffled over.
“C-Can I sit with you?” he stammered.
She smiled wider, making sure to keep her lips closed.
(No need to scare her new toy.)
“Of course!”
(She learned his name was Obito.)
(She also learned that maybe, just maybe, she could feel something other than rage.)
The man was back again.
He only ever came at night, always rambling on about the love of his life. He annoyed the hell out of her, but what could she do? She’d found out he was a Jounin.
Tonight, though, he looked different. More sinister. More manic.
She sat on her bed as he approached.
His sky-blue eyes were dark, filled with a twisted desire. He stared at her in a way that made her skin crawl.
(She tried not to fear him, though he looked just like the men her mother used to bring home.)
He grabbed her arm, turning her around, forcing her face into the pillow.
(Her heart pounded. She wanted to throw up.)
“You look like him, in this light,” he muttered, voice thick with something vile.
(Please, no.)
Her mind went blank. She started to struggle as he slid her pajama pants down.
“You’ll have to do.”
(She finally understood why her mother always seemed to be in pain.)
She stared at her team, a closed-mouth smile on her lips.
Her Obito was lively as always, but that Kakashi—he looked like a brat.
(She didn’t know why her instincts screamed at her to claw at him, to tear him apart.)
(She understood when she saw his summons.)
When she saw the way Minato looked at Obito, her blood froze.
She wanted to snarl, to rage.
(She wanted to tear Minato apart, leaving nothing but shredded flesh.)
(She always did prefer her meat bloody.)
Minato came over again, ranting, as usual.
He sighed when he noticed she wasn’t paying him any attention.
“I will train you today,” he said.
She glanced up from her homework, wrinkling her nose.
“Go away,” she growled, a noise rumbling from her chest.
He didn’t. Instead, he looked pleased, that manic gleam still in his eyes.
“It’s either this, or I spend time with my Obi-chan,” he sing-songed.
She froze, slowly turning to face him.
(Predator vs. Predator.)
She didn’t know what expression she wore, but it made him pause. He stared at her with something unreadable in his eyes before his lips stretched into a wide smile, and he laughed.
“Yes, I chose well!” he declared, his voice tinged with madness.
He waved her over. She growled.
He chuckled, low and dark.
(She went.)
(She fell asleep satisfied, knowing he went home with fresh scars.)
She stared into the mirror.
At her brown hair, honey-colored eyes, and the purple stripes on her cheeks.
She frowned.
(She looked nothing like Obito.)
She found Obito sitting alone on the edge of the village, his shoulders hunched as he fiddled with something in his hands.
She sat down beside him without a word. He looked over, surprised, and then grinned, his usual bright smile.
“Rin! You’re up late,” he said, laughing. “Couldn’t sleep?”
She shrugged, glancing at the small, handmade bracelet in his hands. Dark beads and uneven knots, all strung together clumsily. He reddened under her gaze.
“It’s, uh… nothing special,” he muttered, scratching the back of his head. “I… made it for you.”
Her eyebrows raised as she took it, the threads rough against her fingers.
“It’s… nice,” she said, sliding it onto her wrist. “Thank you, Obito.”
He grinned, his smile softer now, shy. They sat in silence for a moment, her gaze tracing the faint scars on his throat.
(She wanted him. All of him. Like a precious thing kept safe in the dark.)
“It’s just… something to make you happy,” he said, voice barely above a whisper.
She leaned her head on his shoulder, feeling him stiffen, before relaxing, beside her.
(She loved how he melted under her touch.)
“It does,” she whispered.
She pretended to sleep, heart lodged in her throat.
Kakashi lay on her chest, asleep.
(She wanted to throw up at the low groans and pained whimpers.)
She had kissed Kakashi first.
It was soft, nothing like that single night with Minato.
Kakashi was shy and attentive, always leaving her room to pull away. She had giggled, thinking him silly.
They were at her house, the one she made sensei buy as a gift, beneath the sakura tree.
(Trying not to think about how Obito had gone missing again, skipping another lesson.)
Kakashi looked at her with shy eyes, a blush dusting his masked cheeks.
She no longer felt the overwhelming urge to tear him limb from limb and leave his body for the crows and worms.
(Though she wouldn’t mind feasting on his warm, still-beating heart.)
She blushed when he bashfully removed his mask, finally showing her his face.
He was beautiful, she thought.
When he kissed her, all she felt was hunger.
(She wondered if his heart tasted as sweet as his lips.)
Her baby was sick.
She watched, concerned, as Obito threw up his lunch, his face pale and body trembling.
She glanced at Kakashi.
His dark eyes were fixed on Obito, filled with worry.
(She couldn’t fault him for that—Obito had that effect on people.)
She ran a comforting hand over Obito’s back, murmuring soothing words.
(She wanted to snarl at the faint heartbeat.)
Her fingers tightened just slightly.
"Obito, please," Rin pleaded, her voice soft, her eyes filled with concern.
"I'm fine, Rin," Obito muttered.
She wasn't convinced.
Her lips were pursed as she walked beside Kakashi, grocery shopping.
She didn’t smile anymore; she no longer felt the need to.
Kakashi was quieter, more uncertain, his confidence fraying. She could feel his sadness and anger clinging to him like a sickness.
Obito’s death had left a hole in both of them.
She was devastated. They’d lost their baby, the love of their lives.
Every day felt like a chore without him.
She sighed, fiddling with her bracelet, as they reached one of the Uchiha-owned stores, where they always got a discount, though they weren’t actually Uchiha.
In her search for the perfect tomato, she saw Mikoto-hime.
(Obito had loved tomatoes most of all.)
—And froze.
Kakashi glanced at her, concerned. “Are you alright, Rin?”
She started, then nodded, giving him a small smile. “Yes, just thought I saw something.”
Kakashi hummed and nodded, understanding what it was to see the ghosts of the past.
The moment his back was turned, her eyes narrowed, a frown tightening her lips.
(Why did Mikoto’s newborn smell exactly like Obito?)