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Obito slammed his fists into the ground, crying out in frustration, feeling the hot burn of tears behind his eyes. He shoved his goggles off of his head entirely and dropped them on the ground, angrily wiping at his face with muddy hands.
He had spent the past three hours trying to will a wooden clone into existence, following the notes on the scroll that Tsunade-baa-chan gave him earlier after going on a scarily enthusiastic treasure hunt through all of the empty houses in Senju compound. He was pretty sure baa-chan broke through a couple of doors at some point when she was unable to open them by conventional means.
It was Shodaime’s scroll, parchment dusty and stuck together as Obito struggled to unroll it after Tsunade-baa-chan appeared out of one of the buildings with a triumphant "yes!" and a wild gleam in her eyes. She went to ruffle his hair and he tried to duck from under her hand, but he was aware it was futile–he couldn’t escape baa-chan even if he tried really hard.
After turning one of the streets of the Senju compound into a field of pink petals, stunned and pinned to the ground by the flowers attached to his legs, it was decided by the three Senju (not that Tsunade-baa-chan was aware of ghosts of dead Hokage that kept haunting him) to keep his Mokuton secret. Obito was only mildly aware of why he had to stay silent about it but he was not as dumb as Bakashi had always insisted–he knew that no one but Shodaime could use Wood Release. It was a very powerful kekkei genkai, feared by many enemies of Konoha since its founding. Having Obito awaken it, an Uchiha child with a possibility to develop a Sharingan too, was like stuff out of Nidaime’s nightmares, Tsunade had told him (Nidaime, lounging next to Obito, scoffed at that and rolled his eyes but didn’t deny it).
So, no one knew of the shibazakura flowers' outburst in the Senju compound. Except Minato-sensei, and Kushina-nee, and Shodaime and Nidaime.
Tsunade told Minato-sensei about it after inviting him over to discuss Obito’s training and Nidaime had a look of mad triumph on his face throughout the entire meeting, looking so proud of Tsunade-baa-chan’s aggressive hovering over sensei’s shrunken form. Obito knew Nidaime didn’t like how Minato-sensei had trained them, him, spending lots of time focusing on Bakashi and little to no time outside of combined training hours on Obito and Rin.
Obito had argued once that it was because Bakashi was the strongest out of the three of them, no matter how pissed off he was to admit it, and if their team was in danger Bakashi would be the one to fight hardest with Rin and Obito supporting him on the sides. Insisted that if he or Rin would get into trouble, Bakashi would be the one strong enough to save them.
Nidaime looked doubtful at him after Obito’s outburst (whether the doubt was in Bakashi’s abilities or him saving Obito and Rin, he didn’t know), Uchiha suddenly feeling stupid even if he didn’t know what was wrong with what he said. Nidaime put his warm hand on Obito’s shoulder then (he was always warm despite being a ghost, or a vision, or whatever he was), crouching in front of him, his fuzzy white collar soft and smelling of cherry blossoms.
“The team of shinobi is always a team of equals,” he had said then, searching for something in Obito’s face. “All of you have to be strong for each other. No one should be denied the opportunity to become strong just because one of their comrades is easier to teach.”
Obito didn’t really know what it meant but nodded anyway, Nidaime placing a gentle kiss on his forehead (Tsunade-baa-chan was doing that a lot as of late, too) before rising to his feet, muttering about ‘inside which fucking hole did Saru shove my recommended notes on teaching after I died’ and disappearing into the kitchen to observe the pot that Shodaime was fussing over.
Tsunade talked to Minato-sensei about Obito's Wood Release and despite looking terrified of her, sensei smiled at Obito like he was so proud of him. Obito did nothing to deserve that look. He just touched a stupid flower and had to throw out his pants afterward because the fabric up to his knees was pierced through like soil by growing and spurting flowers.
Kushina-nee almost killed Obito when she came to the compound, eyes wide and happy, arms locked in a chokehold on his neck as she jumped up and down in excitement and called him little cousin and little flower and my favourite of Minato’s students .
He was kind of offended at the little flower bit, too afraid to do much more than pout because Kushina’s fists were a deadly thing.
She really reminded him of Shodaime. He was like a less violent, less likely to punch him into tomorrow version of her.
Which is why he was training his stupid Wood Release from a stupid Mokuton scroll on a stupid training ground on the outskirts of the compound. He only had ever used it unconsciously, making the flowers bloom or plants grow (he had ruined 6 bonsai this way before Tsunade-baa-chan reluctantly banned him from going into that part of the greenhouse). The only time Obito didn’t feel like a magic gardener was when he had caught baa-chan’s cup that she got from someone special to her (she looked so sad when talking about it so he never pressed). Obito was clumsy and a dunce, and he had wandered around baa-chan’s office in the hospital, poking at different things while waiting for her to go to sensei’s and Kushina-nee’s house for dinner. He stumbled over nothing, and an anatomical lungs dummy he was inspecting flew out of his hands in an arch, crashing into the table and making the small cup fall down.
Obito barely had time to screech out a terrified ‘NO!’, arm outstretched when a tiny vine had grown out of the wooden ground, swiftly catching the handle and letting the cup dangle on a strong sprout that grew out of the ground.
Obito untangled the cup from the vine with barely bending fingers, still vibrating with adrenalin, and precariously put it at the centre of a table.
When baa-chan came back from the meeting she was having with the hospital staff, scoffing, the vine had grown to envelop her entire desk, Obito's frantic pleas silent to plant’s nonexistent ears where he was crouching near it, hands hovering over curly tendrils.
He thought she would be mad at him, but instead had just barked out a laugh, smacking her lips on his forehead (Obito grumbled and made a show out of rubbing his jacket’s sleeve over the supposed kiss spot), and whisked him away, hand firm on his shoulder the entire time.
On the training ground, Obito looked at the dirt below his feet, fists still clenched and dirt smeared over his nose, eyes still burning, dumb stupid weak booming in his head. He screamed out, enraged, and went to kick his goggles that laid nearby.
His foot missed, catching on the grass instead, making it grow taller, the scent of it wild in his nose. Obito was crying now, angry at himself, at stupid grass, at stupid Mokuton , and bent over, plucking his goggles out of the ground as he screeched and threw them across the field.
STUPID. WEAK.
He didn’t stand a chance against an Iwa nin’s kunai, how could he stand a chance against any other threat to his team, to his clan, to Senju, to his family?! Why did they all kept coming to him, relying on him, when he was so weak and stupid and would let them down when the danger comes. When they will see that he is a no-good, dead-last stupid idiot that was kicked out of his own clan, that can’t hold any Katon jutsu to save his life, that cries and is a disgrace to shinobi code–
“Kawarama-chan, are you okay?”
Obito bites his lip and stands still, dirty sleeves of blue and orange stained with both mud and tears. He goes to wipe his eyes again, lips still trembling and body shaking in occasional heaves. He hunches over, tugging at his jacket that he refuses to remove, trying to disappear from the spot.
(Tsunade-baa-chan told him at that some point he’d have to wear something else–she even offered some clothes with a Senju crest, the ones still unworn by dead Child Soldiers from the Second War; Obito doesn’t care, it’s his jacket, the one he had saved money on for months, the only thing he has left of his clan that doesn’t want him; the clan that let him be taken away, and despite Tsunade-baa-chan being so nice and Shodaime and Nidaime being here with him he misses Uchiha compound’s streets like a lost limb, crying himself to sleep because even if he can go there nothing will ever be the same and they stare like he betrayed them, like he did something bad, like him having a family made them despise him and it hurts even if it’s stupid and Obito is stupid and–)
“Kawarama,” Shodaime crouches in front of him, looking concerned, presence big and warm and smelling of an old oak. “What happened?”
“Why do you keep calling me that,” Obito’s voice is hoarse and pathetic as he finally looks Shodaime in the eyes, suddenly looking determined and defensive and wanting to hurt and drive the man away from him.
“Because you are,” Shodaime smiles and Obito hates that smile because it was soft and trusting and knowing, and Obito was none of those things. “You are my little brother.”
“I’m not!” Obito screams, suddenly brave enough to go against the God of Shinobi, wanting to hurt him or make Shodaime hurt Obito; to let him see that Obito is weak and unworthy; to get an excuse to distance himself from him just so he wouldn’t disappoint all of them later. “My name is Obito! I don’t have a brother and my clan hates me and I don’t know what you want from me .”
Shodaime looks–hurt, and Obito is reeling from that because yes, Shodaime sees it, finally, now they will all go away and leave him alone and won’t get hurt when–when–when they find out he is stupid and weak.
“Just tell me what do you want from me, why are you doing this ,” he keeps repeating, body jerking as Shodaime extends a hand towards him.
He takes a step back just out of the man’s reach, trembling with sorrow and anger, eyes furious and burning.
Shodaime looks like he was punched in the face.
“I don’t understand,” dead Hokage gulps as if he also wants to cry, which is–ridiculous, why would he cry over stupid weak Obito that can’t master a single jutsu out of a stupid scroll, the only thing that made him valuable to them not manifesting well enough for them to want to keep him around for longer.
“I can’t do this,” Obito thinks he is crying, “I can’t do anything . You and baa-chan and Nidaime-nee gave me the scroll and I can’t do anything with it. Just tell them I can’t do this , I don’t want to do this, I can’t use Mokuton, I don’t know how long I have untilyougettiredofme .”
Shodaime looks stricken, eyes wide and wet, and he is crying, too, looking at Obito like he wants to hug him and keep him near his chest for the rest of Obito’s life.
“Kawarama.”
“My name is Obito ,” he bites back, tears streaming down his face uncontrollably now, and Obito wants to hit himself, to make himself hurt.
“It is now,” Shodaime says and cautiously extends an arm forward watching Obito flinch before taking it back, “but it wasn’t before. I came to know you as Kawarama first. My little brother. So smart and good and strong , always have been and always will be. You went through so much , Kawarama, in both of your lives, and you have always been so kind to everyone, so untainted by the darkness of our world.”
Shodaime seems to swallow around a dry lump in his throat.
“I always wanted to be like you,” he admits and Obito’s eyes widen, his body frozen like a deer in front of bright light. “I wanted to reshape the world where no child would have to survive through things you and I and our brothers had to live through. No child soldiers, no clan feuds, no fights, no wars.”
Shodaime’s face twists into something painful.
“I’m so sorry I failed you, Kawarama,” and he sounds so sincere that Obito desperately wants to trust him. “You are always enough . We don’t expect anything from you. Me and Tobi and Tsuna-chan and your sensei with the Uzumaki girl–we all want you safe and close to us just because we all care. Please, little brother, you have to believe me.”
To have Shodaime, a Hokage that founded the village, sit in front of him on his knees and beg Obito for forgiveness, to apologize for failing him–Obito didn’t know what to do.
He was just so tired.
He throws himself at Shodaime, sobbing openly now, arms curling in man's shinobi dress, feeling instantly surrounded by the warmth and soft smell of greenery as Shodaime bends in half and cries into Obito’s hair, rocking back and forth, squeezing Obito’s useless stupid body like what he was saying was true, before, and Obito desperately wanted to believe it despite the whispers, the lies, the unknown still blaring red in his head.
He lets himself not listen to that for now, wiping his runny nose on Shodaime’s chest, rubbing his face over the man’s shirt.
He doesn’t believe anything Shodaime has said, but he will try because he wants to, he wants to, he wants them to want him, he wants to want them in return .
They forget about the Mokuton scroll afterward, both similarly exhausted and red-faced, and when Obito briefly mentions it Shodaime waves him off, a watery smile on his face, promising to teach Obito himself without the need of texts if Obito decides he wants to train .
They leave then, a ghost and a kid, a field of overgrown gladiolus and hyacinths in their wake where both of them had kneeled and wept.