When We Were Young

Her home didn’t have tatami mat flooring, sliding doors, and wooden verandas. Her home did not look like this, with its open screens and off white colors and natural wooden furniture. Her home was busy and loud and full, she remembered that much, not this quiet stillness that was only ever interrupted by large dark eyes and hair and a smile that only ever grew when she looked at it and –“Hi Aya-chan,” He was quiet when he spoke to her, always quiet, as if there was something wrong with speaking any louder. “I found a frog today.” And off he went, telling her all about his day – yesterday he had found a bird's nest in one of the trees he climbed at the park – and just as she had then, she just watched him and listened. She would hum when he’d stop, prompting him to talk more.It was the most noise she would get each day and she hated the quiet stillness that surrounded her. The only other interaction she had with a person was the elderly woman that would look after her. But even she couldn’t talk all day long. Not like Obito could.