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Obi-Wan was tempted to measure the hallways now that he was the only person standing in them. If he did, he knew it would only confirm what his thoughts had been for the past week. They were excessive, a thought he would’ve never anticipated using in relation to the Jedi.
But they were. Or at least the entire floor he and Anakin were on was. Too tall, too wide, and…too empty. Too quiet.
Obi-Wan and Anakin had an entirely too-large floor of forty rooms all to themselves. Only one was occupied, and it was situated a third of the way down the hall, plenty of time to discover how much his footsteps echoed.
Sometimes Obi-Wan allowed himself to consider why it was he and Anakin were alone on the floor, and only sometimes would he allow the less-than-pleasant thoughts as to why they were isolated. Due to his answers, it was rare that he would let them linger.
Today was not one of those days, but he forced himself to walk down the hall evenly. Obi-Wan had decided to explore, see beyond the apartment they’d ended up in. Obi-Wan had never gone to this floor or the two below, which held the same number of rooms, as a youngling. There had been no reason to, not even when he and his fellow creche-mates had decided to skip lessons to play hide-and-seek.
Any one of the rooms would’ve been a good hiding place, Obi-Wan mused, passing by another empty one. None were locked, and because it had been so many years since the last occupant, none held any sort of Force echo within its walls. Obi-Wan wasn’t a Jedi adept at reading the ghosts of those gone or even differentiating between people through the Force, but he was familiar with the concepts. Quinlan Vos, a knight a few years his senior, could read the imprints left by people on objects; psychometry, it was called. He was able to sense strong emotions and memories from an item, an incredibly useful talent when tracking. But an equally burdensome one, Obi-Wan knew.
Then there were other Jedi who could sense the distinct Force presences of Jedi, which Obi-Wan could only do after a length of time knowing the person. Otherwise, he could only tell if they were Force-sensitive or not, Jedi or not.
But there was nothing in these rooms. All were cleaned to their original state with no items left behind, and not even the carpet had absorbed anything of the past tenants—something that could happen walking into someone’s home.
Like Master Qui-Gon’s room.
Obi-Wan swallowed past the lump in his throat, shaking his head. Perhaps he should be grateful for the solitude. He wouldn’t be staying in a room saturated with Master’s Force presence. Though if he really wanted that, Obi-Wan wouldn’t have brought all of Master’s plants to their current dwelling, would he?
He stopped, the eerie, delayed sound of his footsteps stopping a beat after. Silence prickled against his senses like the pointed limbs of a spider, waiting to pounce on the next sound.
Then the door to his left swiped open, and Anakin’s face poked out, making Obi-Wan blink in surprise. Obi-Wan must have stopped right near their room.
“There you are!” Anakin said, hopping out into the hall. His voice doubled from the volume bouncing off the ceiling. “You took forever!”
Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t that a little dramatic?”
“No.” And with that certainty, Anakin turned his attention toward where Obi-Wan had come from. “Did you find anything cool?”
“Only empty rooms.”
Anakin deflated, a disappointed pout pursing his lips.
Obi-Wan cast his memory back to the rooms he’d entered.
“Though…”
Anakin perked back up.
“Though I did notice,” Obi-Wan continued, “there was not a single spec of dust.”
Anakin’s brow furrowed in confusion, and Obi-Wan was tempted to follow the expression, but he did smile when Anakin brightened. Excitement seemed to fill the halls, bouncing from one surface to the next like sunlight.
“I haven’t seen a cleaning droid on this floor, have you?” Obi-Wan asked, and Anakin bounced in place.
“Not once!” he yelled, the hall yelling back, then he darted forward. “Let’s go find him!”
“No running in the halls!” Obi-Wan called. When he caught up to Anakin’s slower pace, he said, “We may not be on the typical residential floor, but I’d like us to abide by the same rules as if we were.”
Obi-Wan felt a tinge of annoyance from the boy at the request, but Anakin did as told anyway.
“Besides,” Obi-Wan continued, “we don’t want to scare the droid with your thundering footsteps now, do we?”
That seemed to brighten his mood, and Obi-Wan wondered at how quickly the boy could go from one emotion to the next so quickly. Were other children like him? Had Obi-Wan been? He worried about what those spikes would mean for his training, but Obi-Wan put it in the back of his mind for now.
“So we have to be stealthy?” Anakin asked, beaming at the idea. That, at least, was something Obi-Wan knew about initiates and padawans; hiding and tip-toeing down the hallways always seemed to be a thrilling prospect, as evidenced by his own games as a child.
Not answering verbally, Obi-Wan put a finger to his mouth, and Anakin mimicked the action, smiling behind it. Anakin crouched and shuffled across the floor, then when they made it to the corner, he pressed his back against the wall, and Obi-Wan waited for him to sneak a glance, his lips tugged up in amusement.
Obi-Wan could tell there was nothing there when he felt Anakin’s disappointment. Not having started lessons in the Force yet, Anakin didn’t know how to construct and maintain mental shields yet like the other Jedi, only using the natural barriers one developed growing up. Typically, the environment reflected the amount of shielding; in a trustworthy, safe world, shielding would be lesser than individuals growing up with their defenses raised.
Considering where Anakin was when Master Qui-Gon found him, Anakin’s natural shields were actually quite strong—which said infinitely more about his Force presence that his emotions could still leak through.
Obi-Wan wondered what Anakin would be projecting when he was older, stronger in the Force even without training, and concern made him frown. When Obi-Wan had pushed to train Anakin, his desire was fueled by the promise he made, but thinking it over, Obi-Wan couldn’t imagine leaving a child with such a monstrously high power alone when there were Sith lurking in the galaxy. By the time he was eighteen, Anakin would likely be a bright beacon calling other Force-sensitives to his location—likely with ill intentions.
The prospect of training him made Obi-Wan’s stomach squirm—and not for the first time.
“Maybe it only comes down here when it needs to,” Anakin whispered, shifting Obi-Wan’s attention back to their search.
“Perhaps.” Obi-Wan paused, tilting his head to see past Anakin. “Or perhaps it’s right there.”
Anakin whirled around, and there it was, swirling its brushes around to buff the floor, and Obi-Wan didn’t have enough time to warn Anakin of the slippery solution before he lunged forward. Obi-Wan could only wince as Anakin whirled his arms around to keep balance as he slipped then fell overtop of the boxy droid.
“Ow, that hurt,” Anakin whined, pulling himself up from the droid beeping his alarm at the boy. Obi-Wan reached out a hand to help him up, but Anakin merely shifted so he was sitting on the floor. The droid’s noises sounded aggravated.
“I’m sorry I messed up your floor,” Anakin said to it. Then the droid beeped back, Anakin nodding. Bewildered as he was every time he watched Anakin talk to a droid, Obi-Wan listened as they conversed.
“Yeah, we live on this floor now!”
An inquisitive beep.
“We’re in the eighth on the right side.”
A lot of beeping.
“Oh, okay! Yeah, sure, we’ll be careful.”
Obi-Wan had no idea what that sound was supposed to be, so he soon tuned out their back-and-forth, only able to follow Anakin’s side. What a bizarre talent, but Obi-Wan would admit it would be useful.
He leaned against the wall where Anakin had propped himself up, legs straight out in front of him, and Obi-Wan cast his eyes around the hallway. Still empty.
Around the corner as they were, he couldn’t see their room, but he was familiar with where it was now. After a week of living there, he could point out which of the identical thirty-nine it was.
Obi-Wan imagined himself getting accustomed to the billets just one month ago, running into Bant or Quinlan in the common room, discussing their latest missions. Bant would tell him about her newfound interest in healing and Quinlan would annoy him with a story of his latest mission in the Outer Rim underworld.
Yet Obi-Wan was here, on an abandoned floor with only a droid as company to him and his padawan.
Uncharitably, he wondered whether Master Qui-Gon would’ve been assigned his new rooms if he had been the one to train Anakin. When his brain produced an equally uncharitable answer, he shook his head and lifted himself from the wall.
The movement caused Anakin to turn to him with a furrowed brow, and Obi-Wan sent reassurance to him through the Force. Anakin continued to look puzzled.
Right, he thought. Anakin didn’t understand yet, likely not unless Obi-Wan broadcasted more than he was willing to.
“Just a little restless,” he told the boy.
“Oh, okay.” His expression cleared up, and he smiled. “We can keep walking then!”
“It’s alright…” But Anakin appeared not to have heard him, for he was already saying goodbye to the droid, who immediately went over where they had been standing as soon as they left.
“What did our resident droid have to say?” he asked.
“Oh, right!” Anakin, already slightly ahead of Obi-Wan, then turned to walk backward. “He cleans here twice a week—once in the middle, the other at the end of the week. Not always the same days, though. He said it depends on how dirty everything else is. But he’s glad I told him where we live. Now he’ll make sure it’s extra clean for us, which is super nice! He just says to be careful and not to run on the floors at the end of the month. That’s when he uses, like, this wax stuff—or maybe it was oil—but anyway, it’s supposed to keep the floors from cracking or something like that when it gets dry.”
Obi-Wan blinked. “Well, he was certainly informative.”
“Sure was!” Anakin turned back around, then after a few more steps, he started to slow, now paced equally with Obi-Wan. Anakin was looking down at the floor.
Again, Anakin went from excitement to something else he couldn’t place so quickly, and Obi-Wan didn’t really know what to do. So he waited instead. He counted footsteps, both his and Anakin’s, as they made their way back.
On the twenty-second, Anakin spoke.
“He said it’s quieter here than the other floors.”
Obi-Wan nodded. “I would imagine so.”
“I thought there’d be more Jedi.”
That almost made Obi-Wan stutter in his steps, but he kept even, licking his lips before answering.
“Does that…bother you?”
This time, Anakin lifted his head up to cast his eyes around, and Obi-Wan wondered what he was seeing—or wished he was. Anakin shrugged.
“I don’t know. It’s just kind of…weird. Like being in a big cave.”
“I’m not sure I understand.”
In answer, Obi-Wan nearly jumped to the ceiling in surprise when Anakin let out a high-pitched noise from his mouth.
“It’s like that,” Anakin said, Obi-Wan’s heart still recovering. “All echo-like.”
“R-Right.” Obi-Wan ran his hand through his hair. “A little warning would be beneficial next time.”
“Sorry,” he said, sheepish. “But it’s like that, like being in a cave. It’s also…”
“Yes?”
“Well, I kind of like caves too, so it’s—I don’t know—it’s weird.”
As Obi-Wan was quickly discovering, conversations with Anakin were a whirlwind, and he had to strain to catch up or hold on.
“So you both like and dislike caves.”
Anakin shrugged. “I guess.”
If not for the topic of the conversation—Anakin’s feelings about their isolation—Obi-Wan probably would’ve given up on trying to follow, but he paused, running a hand down his face. He thought a moment.
“Why do you like caves?”
A strange reluctance to answer lingered in the air until Obi-Wan felt something like resolve shift. “There was this one cave, just past the Boonta track, that I would go to. When I need—wanted to hide. I liked it there.” Something more was left unsaid. Obi-Wan didn’t know what, but he didn’t pry. He thought he had more of an understanding about what Anakin meant, anyway.
Anakin not sleeping, propped up against his wall and staring at the door blinked into his mind.
“The Jedi,” Obi-Wan said, “do they make you uncomfortable?”
“Lots of people do.” The confession was quiet, but the benefit of an empty hallway was that Obi-Wan could hear it clearly.
Obi-Wan’s heart ached for the boy, especially with how his shoulders were hunched and he twiddled with the end of his shirt.
Eerie, empty, unfamiliar hallways as opposed to overwhelming amounts of strangers in a strange new home.
Obi-Wan wasn’t sure which he would prefer either.
He remembered the pitying glances of the other knights once he returned from Naboo and wondered if it wasn’t just Anakin who didn’t know which option he preferred.
“I think I both like and dislike caves, too,” he said, and Anakin blinked up at him with those wide blue eyes of his.
“Really?” His voice was hopeful.
Obi-Wan just smiled.
The air around Anakin lightened, and his pace once more sped ahead of Obi-Wan’s.
“I don’t think you looked hard enough before,” Anakin said to Obi-Wan’s confusion.
“We’re in a cave. There’s gotta be something else in here,” he continued.
Obi-Wan’s lips twitched up. “Oh?”
This time, Obi-Wan was ready for the loud noise which reached out through the entire hallway.
“See?” Anakin said. “There’s something in here!”
“Sounds very monstrous.”
“Yeah?”
“Oh, yes. I imagine it has scales, don’t you?”
“Definitely! Big teeth, too!”
“No doubt.”
Anakin twiddled with his shirt again. “It…probaby has a friend too, right?”
“Oh, um…” Obi-Wan ignored the urge to fiddle with his own sleeves. He cleared his throat, face reddening.
Something similar to a chirp escaped his lips.
Anakin stared at him, and Obi-Wan’s face reddened even further.
Then Anakin was laughing.
“You sounded like a womp rat!”
Obi-Wan huffed.
“Like a little baby one!” Anakin mimicked the noise, and if Obi-Wan wasn’t so thoroughly embarrassed, he would’ve been impressed at how much it did indeed sound like a womp rat.
“I revise my description earlier,” Obi-Wan said. “The first creature sounded quite ugly.”
“Uglier than a womp rat?”
Obi-Wan’s lip twitched up. “Much uglier. Smellier, too.”
“Hey! I can’t be both!”
“The world is full of many possibilities, my young padawan.” He ruffled Anakin’s hair, who ducked down with a scowl. “And disappointments.”
Obi-Wan jumped when Anakin released an even louder sound this time, and his padawan only cackled in response.
He wished the unamused glower he sent Anakin would echo too.
“Sounds even smellier now,” he said, then patted Anakin on the back, directing him toward their rooms. “Speaking of, you are due for a shower.”
Anakin groaned as they went inside. “Do I have to?”
“Yes.”
Anakin’s bottom lip came out in a pout, and he trudged toward the restroom. Obi-Wan shuffled away from him to grab him a towel, but when he turned back, Anakin was gone.
His bedroom door whooshed shut.
“The world’s full of disappointments!” Anakin called from his closed door.
Obi-Wan shook his head and sighed, towel hanging limply from his arm. What had he gotten himself into?
But, he thought, the hallways didn’t seem so quiet anymore.