A/N: Hello, all!! I finally have a new idea to work with, so I hope y'all like it. Be warned, this will contain many things people may find offensive: blood, death, psychopathic and/or illogical thoughts and internal conversations, sexual relations between two men, violent sexual relations between two men, possibly non-consensual violent sexual relations between two (or more) men, character bashing, severe out-of-character-ness… oh, and did I forget to mention original characters? And hot, smexy, lewd, erotically redundant yaoiness? I think you get the point XD
This is what could have happened, what should have happened to Itachi. Instead of that whole mess with killing his family (I'll try to avoid spoiling it for those of you who haven't read that far, but they sort of deserved it), Itachi continued as ANBU. His family is alive and well, including Sasuke (who isn't quite the angsty Sasu-chan we all know, since he doesn't really have anything to angst over). Everything else is pretty much the same, although Kakashi's still in ANBU, at least as an investigator, so I can have him interact with Itachi *giggles* No, not in a sexual way! If you want that, you'll have to wait for me to work more on "Windows to the Soul".
I apologize for this first chapter's shortness-- I just wanted to get it done and out of the way so I could work on the next one! Which, by the way, will be much longer. I'll try to get it posted soon, but that part isn't a promise :P
Anyways, I own nothing in this story except for the plot and my beautifully unoriginal original character(s). Naruto is obviously not mine. Please don't sue me, Kishimoto-san, wherever your gloriousness is…!!
Chapter 1: Mistake
He'd screwed up. Somehow, the target had heard him coming, had been prepared for a fight. He'd still finished the job, but not nearly as cleanly as he usually did. The mark had made too much noise before he'd silenced it, drawing attention to the scene so he'd been forced to run off without cleaning up after the kill. It wouldn't do to be caught over a corpse, covered in blood and carrying knives that were identical to the one buried hilt-deep in cooling flesh.
It wasn't until he was back in the place he'd chosen as his base for this job, a small cave deep in the forest surrounding the odd little village of fighters he'd been hired to terrorize, that he realized he'd been cut by the target's knife. Only as the adrenaline wore off did the pain come to the surface, making him gasp softly as he carefully peeled the slashed, blood-soaked cloth away from the wound. It wasn't that deep, but the gash went from his collarbone to his left hipbone and bled a steady stream down his pant leg. Looking down at his foot, he cursed under his breath and sat abruptly, craning his neck to look back the way he'd come.
There was a clear line of crimson footprints, leading out the entrance of the cave and into the forest, in the direction of the ninja village. He'd been so careful sneaking past the guards to get within the high walls, so cautious cornering his prey in an alley the moonlight didn't quite reach, but one mistake had most likely ruined everything. The trail he'd left was so obvious, a two year old could have followed it. If he didn't hurry, there would undoubtedly be men on his trail to do to him what he'd done to his target.
He had to clean up and leave as quickly as possible. Rummaging through the meager supplies he'd brought with him, he pulled out bandages and stripped off the ruined, bloodstained rags of his shirt. Gritting his teeth and dizzy from the pain and blood loss, he proceeded to wrap the wound as tightly as he could. Tying the gauze off, he let out the breath he'd been holding and got shakily to his feet. Determined to end the trail here, he kicked off his shoes, rolled up the legs of his pants, and wiped off his feet the best he could.
Pausing for a second, he debated leaving his bags there to throw off the trail, but he needed the medicines and food for the journey back to his home land. Reluctantly, he shouldered the heavy sacks and headed out into the trees.
He didn't get far before exhaustion and blood loss overwhelmed self-control. Staggering a few more steps, he dropped his packs and slumped against a nearby tree, breathing heavily as the darkness spun around him. He fought off the weakness long enough to rip a chain from his neck and toss it—and the small charm that hung from it—away from him. There… now, even if they found him, they wouldn't be able to tell who he was, where he was from, and who had hired him to kill one of the most prominent members of Konoha's Research and Development Team. Finally, he couldn't fight it anymore.
He passed out.
Uchiha Itachi, prodigal son of the Uchiha Clan and one of the youngest Jounin to ever become ANBU, pulled off his mask and crouched down beside the cooling body of Izumi Masaharu. Such a waste of knowledge... A wave of anger slid through his mind as he surveyed the defensive wounds on the man's hands, one of which was still clutching a bloodied kunai. He left it alone for the moment, his attention caught instead by the knife handle sticking out of Izumi's neck. The raven-haired teen reached forward and took hold of the sticky metal, slowly drawing it from its fleshly prison.
"Well, would you look at that? Designs, in the blade...." A deep voice behind him made the teen turn his head, acknowledging Kakashi Hatake's approach. The silver haired, masked man came to a stop a few feet away, shoving his hands in his pockets and inclining his head towards the object in Itachi's hand. Itachi shifted his gaze to the blood-spattered metal, using the Sharingan to look even more closely. The blade had been engraved in lacy, complex patterns-- it was beautiful. A deadly piece of art, and nothing like Itachi had seen before.
His red eyes raised to look at Kakashi, a wry smile upturning the corner of his mouth. "This... is different. What's the significance?"
"I'm pretty sure that isn't just fanciful decoration. I've seen something like it-- not the exact design, but similar." The older man rummaged in a pocket for a but before pulling out a small, stiletto-like knife. He held it out to Itachi. The younger man looked, but didn't take it-- he had blood on his hands, after all. Sure enough, there was a slightly more geometric pattern worked into the metal. Not something done by the same hand, but it was the same idea. Itachi raised his eyes from the knife to the masked man's. "Where did you get that one?"
With a chuckle, Kakashi twirled the knife between his fingers before slipping it back into his pocket. "It was my father's. From a mission he did, way back when. He was sent out to gather information on the countries beyond those we generally deal with, and he bought that in one of them. I don't know any specifics, but I'm pretty sure it was nearly halfway around the world."
Itachi's eyebrow raised slightly at that, and he looked down at the blade he held. The blood was already congealing. "So, we're dealing with something unknown, huh?" Kakashi nodded, although the gesture was unseen since the younger man had already turned his attention to the object he held. Itachi turned it over in his hands, admiring the attention to detail. Something new... a challenge. Perfect. "That's interesting..."
Both ninja looked up as a third ANBU, still masked, appeared in the clearing. "We've found the assassin, and he's in bad shape. En route to Konoha Hospital-- we'll clean things up here. We need you two to be there when he wakes up, especially Itachi. Hokage-sama wants to see if you can get any information out of him while he's off-guard. Cleared to use any means necessary, short of violence. We don't want to risk him dying before we find out who sent him." A gloved finger tapped at the mask's eye, obliquely suggesting that they use their Sharingan.
Kakashi nodded, slipping his ANBU mask back on as Itachi quickly wiped the knife clean and slipped it into a pocket before doing the same. "Alright, we're going."
Their hands moved in almost-perfect unison, forming seals before the two abruptly vanished.
