[ Obito stubbornly refuses to acknowledge the fact that Kakashi points out. While it's still a bit awkward between them, it almost feels natural to snap something back at him. He always did hate letting Kakashi get the last word. But after so many years without talking, he isn't able to discern what natural really is to them.
They can't go back to how they used to be, though a part of him yearns for something familiar, something to hold onto while they clumsily try to find footing with one another. ]
What does it matter? [ He produces a kunai from his pocket as he makes his way down to the river, feet treading over water and supporting his weight by a layer of chakra sticking to his heels. The least he can do is gut and prepare the fish for Kakashi. ]
How hard can it be? [ He flips the bladed weapon over his hand expertly as his eyes flash, shifting from their normal, deep black colour to a vivid red. A little dramatic for cooking fish, but the Uchiha have a flare for theatrics. ] I'll catch my own to start off with. And then I'll copy your technique.
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They can't go back to how they used to be, though a part of him yearns for something familiar, something to hold onto while they clumsily try to find footing with one another. ]
What does it matter? [ He produces a kunai from his pocket as he makes his way down to the river, feet treading over water and supporting his weight by a layer of chakra sticking to his heels. The least he can do is gut and prepare the fish for Kakashi. ]
How hard can it be? [ He flips the bladed weapon over his hand expertly as his eyes flash, shifting from their normal, deep black colour to a vivid red. A little dramatic for cooking fish, but the Uchiha have a flare for theatrics. ] I'll catch my own to start off with. And then I'll copy your technique.