Hello readers! This is my first post-warring era fic, and I'm attempting a different writing style from my usual (you will note if you are familiar with my work). The pairing is undecided, either Kakashi or Yamato, as the story progresses! Also there will be many mentions of Obito.

Reviews are much appreciated, and hoped for!

Enjoy!

Konoha is a sight to behold after sundown. Lanterns bob here and there, and the village is more or less lit by several different shades of yellow. People loiter through the streets, the hustle and bustle of night-life is audible till the very gates. Near the outskirts of the village, the Uchiha compound is responsible for its own share of noise. It's a fitting cacophony to the disoriented and tipsy emotional lives of the shinobi that call Konohagukare home.

A recently created poll that's been carried out since the most recent shinobi war, reveals that the shinobi of Konoha claim to have the most fulfilling lives out of all professionals in the village. These shinobi are also reportedly the unhappiest of the village folk.

Who would have thought? Considering how much patriotism the village inspires, it's almost as if everyone who lives here would be willing to die for it. Then of course, there is the long list of people that have already died for it. This list is always in the present. Always expanding, always growing.

-Flashback-

"How many clans do you think live in this village?"

"How am I supposed to know?!" my cousin always responds to my questions with the same irritation.

"27, recorded clans at least." I grin at the random fact, proud of my knowledge. Maybe one day I'll be Hokage.

"Nobody cares, Michiko." He flicks my forehead, and I frown at him. "That all you got Asuma-nii?"

He flinches at my mockery, crunching the lollipop in his mouth and breaking it free of the stick.

"You've got some serious problems with oral fixation, niisan."

It's not unusual for me to make awkward insults.

"Shut up monkey."

Successfully angered, I frown. The nickname is commonly used to bully me at the Academy and when he uses it against me, it annoys me greatly.

Slouching in my spot on the foyer, I grumble and pick at the old wood beneath me.

"Asuma! Michiko! I'm home!" Biwako Sarutobi, my aunt, calls from somewhere inside the house. Asuma-nii shoots up and runs in, stepping on my hand in the process. I yelp.

2 years later.

Third Person p.o.v

"Michiko is nearly 11 years old and if she has anything in her genetic material from her mother, it's her stubborn attitude and resilience."

The conversation between Biwako and Hiruzen lulls into a comfortable silence as they sit down to have their tea after dinner, waiting for their niece to return home.

Michiko's p.o.v

I wipe my hands one last time on the faded, orange towel by the sink before stepping out, yelling goodnight to the owner of the little ramen shop. My arms don't feel too exhausted, but I can't wait to get to my ho- my uncle's house so I can go to bed and get some delicious, delectable sleep.

"Hey, Michiko-chan!" A slightly high-pitched, boyish voice calls out from somewhere to my right. I turn my head as I drop the curtain to the entrance, shadowing my face, my legs lit by the light streaming out from under the short strips.

"Obito-kun!" I wave, feeling a grin make its way onto my face "How come you're out so late?"

The boy stops in front of me, palms on his knees as he catches his breath, "I was helping someone walk home! What about you? I thought your aunt said you didn't need to come here anymore…"

In the dim lighting I can barely see his eyes through the goggles.

He gestures with his thumb at the little restaurant as he speaks and I shrug, "She says what she likes, I feel better doing things."

Obito laughs and the sound makes my stomach flip, I feel nervous and resist the urge to twiddle my fingers.

"You'll be a genin soon, with all the training you do…" He grins almost obnoxiously and I'm sure he's winking under those irritating goggles. This entices an angry reaction from me: my cheeks redden slightly, I can feel the heat rising to my face. I shove him.

"H..Hey! How do you know about that?!" I yell, trying to school my defensive voice into a whisper.

Obito laughs and does something I hate- he ruffles my hair.

"G…G…Go hide in a cave Obito-kun."

He makes me stutter whenever he comes too close, I can never decide whether it's nerves or discomfort. I'm not used to physical proximity. I turn on my heel, deciding to walk away from him, glaring out into the street as I march away.

"Ne, Michiko-chan!" Obito calls out teasingly, "You're going the wrong way!"

His gleeful voice makes me want to shake my fists at him.

I turn with a practiced, menacing glare, stomping my feet as I march back to him.

He backs away with his hands held in front of him and then begins to lightly sprint away, slowing a little as he turns to watch me over his shoulder.

He likes to think I wouldn't be able to keep up if he ran. I follow him easily.

But he was right all along, because I couldn't keep up with him in the end.

That sounds melodramatic. However, such thoughts suit the weather.

It's raining, the sky is grey and the clouds rage up above, thundering through the skies.

Obito is dead.

Father has been dead.

Mother is, well, gone.

I wear the customary black, tears streaking down my pudgy face. Tears and rain drops.

They can't have a proper burial ceremony because there is no body.

Crushed, someone mentions. I have nightmares that following night.

Biwako worries about me, too much. So after some days of crying, I begin withdrawing to myself. I stop going to Ichiraku's and I spend more time at the Academy. I show Biwako and Hiruzen that I am strong, that I can persevere. Which is why I train and I train until my muscles scream and I'm too sweaty to bear myself.

'There will be so much in your life, so much. I cannot bear to witness it for reasons I can't explain to you, because you're only a child.' My mother's voice rings in my mind when I think about my collection of life-experiences so far.

She could have told me that 'so much' meant lots of death. She had my hopes up for a long while after I met Obito.

I dreamt that he would be Hokage and that I would be one of his most reliable Jounin.

The dream haunts me now and it mocks me. It is a naïve internal narrative that I sometimes convince myself to live by. But Obito is very much dead, and there is nothing I can do to convince myself otherwise.

Now, a year later, I am standing at his grave and changing the flowers. Lilies always last about a week, thanks to the weather in Konoha, it's gentle on them. I can now no longer shake the sullen emotions that overcome me, and I find myself constantly questioning my actions. I wasn't happy when I became jounin, and I wasn't happy when Minato-sama asked me to join the Anbu.

I sit silently at his grave. I've already visited my fathers and told him the news.

But here. Here there is no one to address. There is no body beneath the earth, no Obito for me to speak to.

"Where did you go?" The question falls from my mouth more angrily than I would think to address him. When all I hear is silence and the cool breeze in my ears, I feel sullen again. I feel rejected. I want to leave, so I do.

A strong wind sweeps through, pushing away the dried leaves that have fallen into the graveyard.

The lilies dance cheerfully.

Third Person p.o.v

Michiko Sarutobi is twelve years old. She has no parents, but she has a doting aunt and an uncle; Biwako and Hiruzen Sarutobi. Her relationship with them is not complicated, it is full of respect and understanding. She hates to be babied, so they refrain. She likes her solitude, so they comply. And when she feels sad enough to cry, Biwako is always there to comfort her.

Their son, Asuma, is more or less a brother to her. Teasing her and pushing her buttons when he wants to amuse himself, her or both.

Michiko has loved her family, whatever has been left of it.

They aren't pleased to hear about her recruitment into the Anbu, but they congratulate her. As a present, Hiruzen gives her a pair of short-katanas that can be infused with Chakra. Considering that her chakra nature is Wind, she deems this an excellent present and wields them with pride.

Now she stands nervously within the HQ, waiting for the man on the other side of the window to give her the standard-issue of uniform and flak-jacket. The mask he hands her reminds her of a monkey. It fits.

"Hello, my name is Sarutobi Michiko. Please take care of me!" Nervously, she bows. The others within the changing room eye her with interest and greet her pleasantly. She moves to find her locker and is surprised to find that it is right next to that of an Uchiha.

She smiles slightly at him as she opens the locker, feeling jittery in the room full of strangers.

"Hey guys, sorry I'm late." The voice enters the room before the owner of it does and Michiko curiously turns to lock eyes with Hatake Kakashi.

"Michiko." He greets, closing the door shut as he slips in.

Of course, she realizes, he is aware of her joining Team Ro.

The rest of the team begin to chatter to one another, jokes and insults flying from one end to the other. Only the Uchiha is as quiet as Michiko, but she deduces that he is probably the silent type.

From this day on, Michiko's awkward venture into life beyond just death begins.