Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto or any characters therein.
A/N: Warnings-ShiIta, mentioned NaruSasuNaru, and utter AU.
*Please read* I copied the rules of Ninja from a YT vid. They are as follows: "1: You can only make one movement NO MATTER HOW BIG! and you can try to hit andmove at the same time. 2:After you dodge, your hand MUST stay in the same place.
3. GOAL: Eliminate other players by hitting any part of their hand."
Enjoy!
:Of Presents and Practicality
The first half of Itachi's nineteenth birthday was as normal as every one preceding it had been. The ritual for such days had long since been firmly established within the Uchiha household, and nobody was going to deviate from it now (well, almost nobody…but Itachi knew nothing of that yet).
Mikoto hugged him when he got up in the morning and wished him a happy birthday. Sasuke did the same, minus the hugging (he was fourteen, after all, and thanks to his celebrated lineage had an 'emo-esque' image and reputation to uphold). Fugaku, never one for sentimental words or physical contact beyond a manly backslap, gave Itachi one of said backslaps and that was that.
After breakfast came the quietly awkward affair of gift-giving. It was a tradition Itachi was none too fond of, not least because he knew he wasn't an easy person to buy for and an overwhelming percentage of his birthday gifts were never used beyond what was strictly polite. But he was aware that his mother would probably find it even more awkward if her son requested the birthday present tradition be stopped altogether in his case, so he suffered-for lack of a less dramatic term-in silence.
Aforementioned presents, one from each immediate family member, were nothing unexpected.
Mikoto gave him a dress shirt she'd thought/hoped he might like, which Itachi calculated (five seconds before he even opened it) would be worn on Christmas and Easter to avoid hurt feelings and strategically placed in the back of his closet at all other times.
Sasuke had long since figured out what became of most of his gift-for-Itachi efforts, and at some point had given up. Thus, Itachi received a book, selected at random. The only criteria, he suspected, was that Sasuke himself be incapable of reading it (whether that was due to the volume of the book, its content or the language it was written in). Which made some sense, he supposed.
Fugaku was by far the easiest. His was in the same vein as Sasuke's, except more generic: A gift card to the nearest bookstore. It was a gift one tended to give only to second cousins of whom one knows absolutely nothing, but despite the fact that he rarely found books he liked enough to buy, Itachi appreciated the impartialness. It made for far less chances of upsetting someone, although Fugaku probably didn't care about such things anyway.
The birthday traditions, being few, had very nearly worn themselves out; now all that remained was the phone call from Shisui.
Uchiha Shisui was an obscure relative of both Itachi's and Sasuke's, and had been dubbed by the two as "cousin" when they were children in order to keep things simple. Not one of the three was clear on whether he was even a blood relation or not, but it didn't matter.
Shisui had been an omnipresent figure in the brother's lives when they were younger. Two years Itachi's elder, he had decided at a very tender age to "take them under his wing". Whatever he had originally intended by this was quickly lost to the sands of time as he dragged the smaller boys into episode after episode of ever more inventive trouble.
He and Sasuke had gotten along well enough, but it had been Itachi he really took a shine to. He went from big brother figure to best friend as Itachi got older, and things got to a point where one was hardly ever seen without the other.
And then Fugaku got the news of his promotion. The word became synonymous with 'upheaval' for his children, who were informed that they were going to have to move far away from the majority of their extended family.
It had been difficult at first, Itachi mused as he refolded his new shirt (one word: fluorescent), but they'd gotten used to it, more or less. They'd been able to see Shisui when holidays and family reunions came around, at least, and the older boy had kept in contact via phone. A few years back, however, Shisui had moved out, picked a college that-as luck would have it-resided at nearly the opposite end of the country, and essentially vanished from the face of the planet. Not even family reunions were graced with his presence now, and it would probably remain that way until he graduated.
So needless to say, Itachi rather looked forward to the one reliable bit of contact he had anymore with his cousin. The call came once a year, June ninth, and at noon. Always.
Until today, Itachi realized, having glanced up and noted the time as nearly twenty minutes past. Shisui bordered on freakishly (Sasuke's words, not his) punctual; it was the sole trait of neatness Nature had seen fit to bestow upon him, so this was unusual.
Itachi decided that tacking the adjective 'extremely' onto the beginning of 'unusual' wouldn't be unwarranted when, another twenty minutes later, Shisui still hadn't seen fit to pick up a phone. Vaguely Itachi was aware of a slight jilted feeling-that one phone call was the only thing, if he was being honest with himself, that he truly looked forward to on birthdays. And Shisui was never late about it. Was something wrong?
A troupe of unreasonable voices in the back of his mind was clamoring for him to call the authorities (which was ridiculous, of course) when the doorbell rang.
Automatically, Itachi stood and made for the front door. He had it opened no more than a crack and had a polite greeting forming in his throat when the door was suddenly flung the rest of the way open with surprising force.
The next thing he knew, Itachi had been pounced upon and was being suffocated by a multitude of thick black curls.
Extremely familiar curls. Curls that he was suddenly sure had nearly been the death of him before. And the exuberant greeting, the so-enthusiastic-it-borders-on-violent hug thing that was about three point five seconds away from tipping him over, could only have been delivered by one person.
In an understandably muffled voice, Itachi managed to get out "Sh-Shisui?"
The curly head drew away, and Itachi found himself face-to-face with his cousin for the first time in years.
"Hey, little cousin," Shisui said cheerfully, grinning like a fool. "Jeez, you've gotten tall."
Now that he was no longer suffering from oxygen deprivation, Itachi took a long look at the other man and concluded that he too had certainly changed in their time apart. Shisui had always been long and lanky, like a particularly energetic spaghetti noodle, but somewhere along the way he'd filled out and become more muscular. His hair had gotten longer, and there was a small tattoo on one of his upper arms.
Itachi raised an eyebrow upon noticing that last little detail. Correctly guessing the reason for his expression, Shisui shrugged. "I thought it looked cool. Birthday present to myself, you know? The guy said it's some kind of brand; I did some research and found out it's actually the mark of this really ancient police group-" He cut himself off mid-spiel and grinned again. "But who cares about that right now? Man, it's good to see you again."
Any response Itachi might have had for that was ended before it began by the appearance of Sasuke, who caught sight of his renegade relative and proceeded to choke on his own spit.
"Shisui?"
"In the flesh. Long time no see, squirt!"
"Don't call me that," Sasuke replied automatically. "What are you doing here?"
"I'm on break, and I'd finally saved up enough cash to come visit without, you know, not being able to eat or anything like that." He turned to Itachi. "Happy birthday, by the way."
"Thank you," Itachi said slowly.
"Oh, Shisui-kun!" Mikoto appeared out of nowhere and hugged Shisui with a smile on her face. "I was starting to worry that your plane crashed!"
"No such luck this time," Shisui joked before becoming more serious. "Thanks a lot for letting me stay overnight, Mikoto-san. I really appreciate it."
She waved him off. "You're family, Shisui-kun. Stay as long as you like."
"Careful what you say," he warned, grin making yet another appearance. "Fugaku might have different ideas on the matter."
Itachi silently agreed. Shisui and his father had never gotten on well.
"But seriously," Shisui continued, "I should be getting back sometime tomorrow. I..may..have accidentally left a load of my coursework undone. And I can only make up so many excuses." He winced.
"Well, please make yourself at home," Mikoto said warmly, and vanished into the kitchen again.
"No effort needed on my part," Shisui remarked. Itachi blinked, and his friend smiled.
"I already feel at home."
..
Once Shisui's bag had been deposited in the guest room and Itachi slowly came to the conclusion that yes, his cousin was in fact there and not a product of delirium or wishful thinking, awkwardness began to set in. Itachi couldn't remember one instance where awkwardness had been any part of being with Shisui, but then again it had been years since they'd seen each other at all. Things had changed. All that remained to be seen was just how much.
Unsurprisingly, it was Shisui himself who broke the forming ice before it had a chance to solidify. "So, how's Sasuke been? Still acting like there's something large and uncomfortable lodged in his-"
"Sasuke is fine, thank you," Itachi interrupted, not feeling any need to hear the end of that sentence.
"Just fine?"
Itachi considered. A select few incidents, spread out over the last handful of months and involving flushed faces and a mess of blond hair, rose to the surface of his mind and made his eye twitch ever so slightly. "I would say he's doing very well," he amended.
Shisui smirked, as if he had some idea of what had just crossed his cousin's mind. "Right. And how've you been?"
He gave a purposely noncommittal shrug. "I've been all right. What about yourself?"
"Hanging in there. College has been kicking my butt, though."
"Understandable."
The shallow well of polite conversation had dried. Itachi was trying not to think about what a long night this was going to be when Shisui spoke again.
"I just had a thought. Spare me the cracks, please," he added, foreseeing a deadpan remark in the immediate future. "We should play Ninja!"
Itachi stared at him. Stared a bit more. Wondered if his hearing had suddenly decided to cop out on him. Surely his cousin had not suggested that they "play" something, much less a child's backyard game. Surely not.
"It was our favorite game when we were kids, remember?" Shisui continued, either not noticing or just ignoring Itachi's pained look. "You would always win, though. It pissed me off like you would not believe-getting beaten by your six-year-old cousin is a real pride damager, you know?"
Itachi was still speechless.
"I know that look," Shisui observed dryly. "C'mon, we haven't played that game in ages. It'll be fun."
And then he turned on the puppy dog eyes.
The reason we haven't played it "in ages" is because it is a children's game. We are both adults. Mature adults. Mature adults do not play Ninja. It just does not happen. Furthermore, mature adults do not attempt to use puppy dog eyes in order to convince others to see their way, and they definitely do not give in to said eyes.
That was what Itachi's brain told him to say.
What came out of his mouth was, "Fine."
Damn.
..
"This time," Shisui declared as they took their places in the scrap of grass that passed for Itachi's backyard, "I will win!"
Itachi was too busy trying to ignore the pressing weight of shame to respond. He noticed his cousin staring in silence after awhile, however.
"What is it?"
"You're not posing," Shisui said as if it were the single most obvious thing in the world. "Everybody knows you have to start out by posing. It's in the rules."
At times Itachi wondered if Shisui was truly as old as he said he was.
"No," he said bluntly.
"Come on," Shisui insisted. "It's part of the game."
"An unnecessary part."
Shisui sighed. "Have it your way, then."
A new sensation had slipped in to settle alongside 'shame'. And its name was 'guilt'.
Mentally kowtowing and apologizing to every last one of his Uchiha ancestors, Itachi raised two slim fingers in front of his face in what he was reasonably sure was a ninja pose. He'd been fond of it as a child, at least.
"I would greatly appreciate getting this over with," he said through gritted teeth.
Shisui, smile blinding even at a distance, nodded. "You go first, birthday boy."
Itachi, being a believer in the saying "Pick your battles", chose to ignore the birthday comment and made a move forward. Shisui responded in kind. Itachi moved sideways. Shisui copied the move, but did it in the opposite direction. Frowning, Itachi went forward again. Shisui simply copied him again.
After nearly three minutes of being mirrored, Itachi's supply of patience was thinning. "This is never going to end," he pointed out.
"What's wrong with that?" came the cheeky reply.
Itachi appealed directly to the other's pride. "You said you would defeat me this time, did you not?"
Shisui raised an eyebrow, then nodded. "So I did." Without warning he dropped and rolled to end up crouched at Itachi's feet.
His hands were at his sides. For his part, Itachi moved his own hands out of striking range, or so it seemed. With a cry of triumph, Shisui uncoiled himself and shot upwards with impressive speed, hands moving to deliver the decisive blow.
Moving and changing positions so quickly and in such close quarters to his opponent, however, had an unintended side effect: Shisui lost his balance. As a result, due to multiple factors such as height difference and a bit of unlucky coincidence, Itachi found himself pinned to the ground and looking at his friend's face from too small a distance to be socially acceptable.
Just as unnerving as this was the fact that Shisui seemed to be making no move to right the situation.
Once more displaying his remarkable ability to read Itachi's mind, Shisui pointed out that moving before your opponent was against the rules.
Of course.
Itachi could vaguely recall something of this nature occurring a few months back between Sasuke and a blond "moron" (again, his little brother's words) named Naruto. Through some chain of events the two had ended up accidentally kissing in the middle of a classroom, and Itachi, after hearing it through the grapevine, had been unable to resist teasing Sasuke a little. It was one of his duties as big brother, after all.
Now, however, the whole situation was not nearly as funny. Maybe this was karma? Then again, Sasuke had eventually started dating the blond boy anyway, so wouldn't that cancel karma out?
He shook these ridiculous thoughts from his mind and attempted to squirm out from under his cousin. This failed abysmally; he could barely move himself an inch.
A strangely serious look flickered across Shisui's face as, for some inexplicable reason, they remained locked in the same suggestive position.
"Itachi…"
Itachi could feel a thin trickle of sweat snaking down the back of his neck. Shisui was too close. Much too close. And what on earth was he doing, saying Itachi's name like-
"I win."
-wait, what?
Looking down, Itachi saw that his hand had indeed been tapped. The game. He'd lost the game.
Shisui was smiling again. "Told you I'd win," he said as he pulled himself up.
"Itachi? What are you doing?"
Sasuke was standing in the doorway, eyebrow raised so high it appeared to be merging with his hair. Itachi pulled himself up quickly as his brother approached. Just how much had he seen?
"You shouldn't be out here if you're getting sick," Sasuke remarked. "Look at yourself, brainiac. You're burning up."
Shisui gave a suspiciously amused-sounding cough as Itachi's eye began to twitch again. Oh, no. This was not happening.
"I'm fine, Sasuke. It's only the heat."
Shisui's cough morphed into a hacking fit that resembled hysterical laughter far too much to be taken seriously. It caused Sasuke's eyebrow to migrate even higher on his forehead. Itachi had a distinct sinking feeling as he watched the metaphorical cogs turning in his brother's mind. Said feeling managed to rival the demise of the Titanic when Sasuke's eyes lit up in a disturbed lightbulb moment.
"…You know what?" he said after a few seconds of awkward (for the brothers, anyway; Shisui was still rupturing organs trying not to laugh) silence. "I don't want to know. Ever. I'm going to go back inside now."
And he did.
..
The rest of the night, to the everlasting relief of Itachi's sanity, passed without incident. Itachi got started on the book Sasuke had gotten him (meaning, in this case, that he read the same line six times before realizing he'd made no progress). Shisui announced that he had some "studying" to do and vanished into his room to do who-knows-what. Sasuke meticulously avoided them both.
Dinner came and went with nothing out of the ordinary. Everybody praised Mikoto's delicious food, polite conversation was once more made, and Sasuke and Itachi took turns kicking Shisui under the table to keep him from "surreptitiously" flicking peas at Fugaku.
Morning came and Shisui had his things together and ready to go before Itachi could blink. Mikoto made pancakes, which were promptly devoured (Shisui and Sasuke had a long-running war over who could eat more pancakes in their lifetime, and Shisui was still winning; only Itachi seemed to notice that Shisui had seven years on Sasuke and would therefore always be ahead until he died or Sasuke made a drastic diet change).
Very soon, it seemed, the goodbyes were being said at the nearby airport.
"So long, squirt," Shisui saluted Sasuke, and dodged the teenager's response (that came in the form of a fist).
Mikoto hugged him again, told him to come back and visit again as soon as he could, and that their door was always open. Shisui smiled at that and replied that he'd definitely take her up on that offer.
Mikoto then carefully herded Sasuke away in order to give her son and his friend some privacy in which to say goodbye. Neither was overly sentimental about such things, but God only knew when they'd see each other again.
The awkwardness returned full force as Itachi stood and waited for something to come to him. Despite the strangeness of the Ninja incident, Shisui was still his friend, and it would in all likelihood be another year before they spoke properly again.
"Just so you know," Shisui said out of nowhere, "the birthday visit thing may become a recurring theme, as long as I stay on top of things. And if that's not incentive for me to keep my financial act together, nothing is." He grinned. "I missed you, you know."
The strangest burning had materialized in his chest. Itachi blinked and replied, "I missed you as well" in the calmest voice he could manage…which was pretty calm until the word 'well' escaped his lips and wobbled all over the place.
Shisui said nothing about the brief lapse of control, opting instead to snap his fingers. "Wait-jeez, I can't believe I almost forgot!" He slung his knapsack off of his shoulders and began rummaging through it furiously.
An announcement came over the loudspeaker.
"Flight 207, calling passengers for flight 207…"
207, Itachi recalled, was Shisui's flight. The older male was still digging around in his knapsack like a man possessed.
"Damn, damn, damn, I know I put it-" A look of relief suddenly replaced the panic on his face. "Here it is. Okay."
He handed Itachi a thin envelope. "Happy birthday," he said with a smile.
Itachi thanked him and slid the envelope open, removing its contents.
He was holding a plane ticket.
"For you to come and visit," Shisui explained. "Something practical, to get your stick-in-the-mud seal of approval. I thought you might to come out and see me since I'm too crappy a friend to visit you as much as I'd like."
"Flight 207, all passengers for flight 207…"
Itachi stared down at the thin slip of paper. The burning sensation was slowly ebbing away.
"…Hey, Itachi?"
The voice was very close; as Itachi raised his head he had a moment to wonder whether Shisui had teleported in order to close the distance between them before said possible teleporter was kissing him.
And for what had to be the first time in his life, Itachi's mind went utterly blank.
"Last call for flight 207…"
Shisui pulled back, grinning like an idiot. "Guess I should go before they take off without me. See you around, Itachi."
He started to leave. Itachi regained control of his vocal functions just in time to call his name.
Shisui turned, questioning.
Itachi smiled a small smile. "I'll see you soon."
Eyes vanishing into little crescents of happiness, Shisui nodded, waved, and was gone.
Leaving Itachi standing in the middle of the airport, holding in his hand the one birthday gift he had no doubt he would use.
:Owari
A/N: Tanjoubi omedetou gozaimasu, Itachi–san!