Chapter Text
Obi-Wan didn’t always hate kaf.
Anakin learns this when he’s trapped on Melida-Daan with the not-quite fourteen-year-old and they’re hunkered down in the sewers with twenty-odd younglings. Obi-Wan seems to be in charge of the children, making sure the youngest ones have milk or juice to drink when it’s available, portioning out rations to make sure that no one starves even if they’re all a bit hungry.
After, Obi-Wan sits beside him and Nield brings him a cup.
This younger version of his master cradles the cup and looks at it with utmost admiration.
It’s not hard to understand why: the Young don’t often have access to luxuries like kaf. The little tea they have access to is often hand picked, hand dried, and honestly tastes like drinking grass.
But the kaf… the kaf is good, even to Anakin’s palate.