Obito trudged down the Street, utterly dejected...
Feeling his empty pockets, he opened his phone and stared at the mere six-digit balance on the screen. His face turned ashen, as though his life had lost all hope in that instant.
A gentle breeze brushed Obito's face, and he parted his lips slightly.
"So this is what Grandpa always meant by living on air." Obito closed his eyes slightly, tasting the faint bitterness as the breeze entered his mouth.
Having a balance that didn't even reach seven digits made Obito feel terribly insecure all of a sudden.
A bitter scent drifted through the wind. It was Obito's departed sense of security.
"Sigh."
"Sigh."
"Huh? Why are you sighing?" they both asked.
At the corner of the street, an adult and a youngster stared at each other, wide-eyed.
"You're Dave's grandson? The Obito kid?" Mu, who was squatting on the ground smoking miserably, broke the silence first. He looked up at Obito in confusion.
"You're my grandpa's close friend, Uncle Mu?" Obito stared at him, equally stunned.
Mu took a melancholy drag on his cigarette. Exhaling a thick cloud of smoke, he gazed toward the nearby horizon with a heart as cold as dead ashes.
"Uncle Mu, why do you look so miserable?" Obito asked in confusion, sitting down beside him.
Obito didn't know why he'd sat down beside Mu to talk to him, either.
Perhaps that seemingly unparalleled air of melancholy had drawn Obito over for a chat.
"What do people live their whole lives for, anyway? And what about you, kid? At your age, shouldn't you be carefree? Why are you sighing when you're still so young?" Mu exhaled a cloud of smoke and asked softly.
"A future, and love too, I guess?" A faint sadness showed between Obito's brows