I'll leave the previous AN there because it does hold some information. In any case, I have seriously edited this story to try and make Itachi less of an OOC. It's been a year since I have even put anything up here but that isn't to say I was doing nothing... I've re-written this story so many times I've lost count (I've even changed the main character to Naruto once xD) in the end I decided to stick close to what I was doing before but if you find any weird tidbits in the story that might be because of all the editing...
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Heyguys: I know it's probably an idea that's been used over and over but I couldn't get it out of my head. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it but I'd like to warn you: I'm not the best writer around and some parts were rather rushed. But let's not keep you from the story! I'll write down some information below about chapter length and updates but you are not required to read it!
- Chapters will each be between the 5k and 6k words, I believe longer chapters read more comfortable
- A new chapter will be released ever two to three weeks (sorry about that)
- This is not a romance story or a 'hey I wanna write about that situation' story. The catch has an actual plot
- Should I be warning you about stuff... I don't know, I believe my writing to be reasonable mellow though it holds some violence that comes hand in hand with the shinobi life style
- I do not own Naruto (Duh!)
"Sorry Sasuke, there won't be a next time."
He fell, his brother the last image he'd ever see before he sank into the bliss of not existing anymore. Being dead was almost like dreaming, Itachi noted. Things happened around you, with you and you were aware they were happening, even going along with it but you could never pin down what it was. He was incapable of remembering what had passed after a while, only a blurred and vague impression of it stayed with him.
At first it didn't raise many questions in him but then the feeling of dreaming left and was replaced with nothing. Then many questions followed. Was it right to not remember what death was like if he was supposed to be dead? Was is right to think? To know he was Itachi Uchiha when he wasn't supposed to be at all?
And when a massive flow of chakra that he couldn't and didn't want to identify flooded the emptiness of death he realised that no, it definitely wasn't right. Nothing was ever right with him.
He fell again, the feeling far more intense without a body to keep him together. His senses sharpened and dulled at the same time and something awakened in him, something he hadn't missed nor desired.
The scent was all wrong…
There was nothing familiar in the air, a fact that unsettled him. He smelled people he didn't know, a breeze he didn't recognise and most disconcerting of all he breathed in his own scent and it was nothing like how he used to smell.
Where was he? He opened his eyes and was greeted with the sight of an open window that revealed signs of a rising sun. Light blue walls surrounded the window or were they grey? He couldn't tell. Turning his eyes away he focused on keeping his breathing silent. This made him notice it… He could breath. The obstruction in his lungs that had always accompanied him was gone and somehow he felt off without it, empty. The pain that had flared through his lungs with every breath had been a constant throughout his adult years. Something he could always trust to be there, a rare thing for someone with his lifestyle. It had been comforting, in a way. He very nearly missed it.
Why wasn't he dead?
For pondering if he was dead at all was far beyond pointless: he could smell and see and even feel the irritated skin that had been burned by Sasuke's last attack. He was alive but that didn't take away the lingering suspicion that he wasn't supposed to be. If his illness hadn't been the end of him of like he had originally thought then surely Sasuke would have finished him off? Unless… Sasuke was somehow unable to do so. His brother hadn't been in the best of states when he last saw him. If that was the case then who had found him? Konoha or Akatsuki or other less important individuals?
He startled when a loud noise invaded his ears something shifted in the corner of his eyes, a someone to be more precise. A girl, only in her early teens slowly rose from a small futon placed to his bottom right. Two others, also laying on small and rickety futons moved, showed signs of waking, but didn't bother to get up. Indiscreetly, his gaze followed the walking girl who made her way over to a simple closet, standing on her toes to grab something laying on top of it. It was an old-fashioned clock, he realised, a very old-fashioned clock. And through its rapidly moving pendulum it was making a whole lot of noise. She turned it off and returned to her futon.
The others now started rising and he pretended to close his eyes, allowing himself to see through very small slits. They moved around, appearing to get ready for the day and he felt like a leopard walking in on a lion pride devouring its kill, misplaced, an accidental intruder surrounded by an enemy predator that would tear him to shreds should he be seen. He did not belong in that room and it would show the moment he did anything besides pretending to sleep.
So, he eased himself in a position that was likely to be one of a sleeping person, slowed his breathing to an easy, deep rhythm and parted his lips just so that it looked like there were no muscles working to shape them. Soon he made himself appear like he was deep into dreamland with practised ease. At home, he had often feigned sleep when his mother wanted to talk to him about his well-being.
Still a person approached him, he could sense her chakra signature getting closer, small but crystal clear on his senses. Strange, one had to use chakra to sense yet he could not recall summoning the foreign chakra running through his network.
A hand touched his shoulders and he let his eyes flutter fully open. There was no point in feigning sleep when somebody was obviously trying to wake you. It was the girl who had woke up first to put off the alarm. She had crouched down to shake his uninjured shoulder and Itachi took a moment to appreciate she had not just nudged him with her toe.
"Chie, we're going to be late. Dress yourself." She said. Only because he had no grasp on the situation he was in, did he nod.
Satisfied, the girl stood up and turned his back on him. And there it was, like the vilest nightmare it jumped in his sight, cracking his calm facade and shattering his indifference all together. His mind screamed bloody murder as the symbol on her back glared at him, filling his vision with nothing but the sight of it.
The Uchiha insignia, in all its glory.
Never before had Itachi found himself unable to comprehend a situation. Being unable to process one or cope with one, yes it could happen, but he had been sharp enough to understand what was happening around him even if he didn't want to know. But right then and there his mental prowess left him, keeping his mind empty. All he could do was dress himself and follow along.
XXXXXX
The symbol was everywhere and there were so many Uchiha's running around. How was this possible? Was he truly that far in the future for so many descendants of Sasuke to exist? His mind played with the idea of him inhabiting the body of a great great great great grandchild of his little brother.
There were other options of course. He could have finally gone crazy and all of this only really existed in his head. But rebirth was also not impossible. Ideas flooded his head, one more absurd than the other, yet still he felt strangely apathetic towards the whole ordeal. This life did not interest him, and he had completed his goals in the other one.
Yes, he had questions. Such as why was the clan untied to a village? Surely no ninja village would leave one of the most powerful dojutsu to live by themselves. No matter he could not find the will inside himself to go looking for the answer and yet he picked up on information anyway as a deformation that his profession had created. By just being there, doing chores for the clan he had learned a list of things. They were orphans. It was quite clear when them and three boys had been served a meagre breakfast by two elderly women. They all wore the same navy blue uniform and the empty, hopeless eyes of the other kids told him enough.
He inhabited the body of Chie and he learned some things about the girl as well since the other girls were a chatty bunch, twelve, he was currently twelve years old, untrained in the art of the ninja and totally unremarkable. He and the other girls got burned by a high-levelled exploding tag when the clan got attacked. It was just a matter of being in the wrong place at the wrong time but he lost a good deal of his skin for it. His right arm and most of his back carried the worst injuries, lighter wounds went down his legs. The pain was hard to swallow once the numbness of sleep had gone away and Itachi wondered why the medics hadn't just healed it. Perhaps he was not important enough at times like these.
Because the clan was facing hard times, try as they might to hide it. There were men sharpening their kunai, women fixing tattered clothes and no children were seen playing, only training. War. The Uchiha were either at war, or preparing for one.
All the while he ran around doing the simplest of chores, or rather watching the other orphans do those chores while he was excused from any physical labor.
Orphans were put to work in the Uchiha system, given tasks like feeding the stock animals or sweeping the public roads. It was a productive way to deal with them he supposed but the kids themselves found it rather unjust.
"Chie, are you feeling alright? It's a hot day today, which must be really annoying for your burns. Don't forget to see the nurse tonight." The girl that woke him up that morning was the only one to try and make a conversation with him every now and then but Itachi rarely responded with more than a nod or a 'hn'. Chie had apparently been a quiet child as well since the other didn't really seem to expect him to talk. The one that did was called Fuji and she was the mother hen amongst them, ordering them around, making sure they were all well. Some would think of this as annoying but Itachi thought it was no more than necessary. The other two would be an unorganized, clueless mess without her instructions and would never get any work done. Fuji told them what to do and how to do it in such a way that everybody could work effectively. She would have made a great squad leader.
After his silence the three girls started talking among themselves again. While he didn't really want to listen in, he had nothing else to focus on and well… it was just so easy.
"I hope the deliveries coming in won't be too big today, I hate to spend time in that creepy warehouse." A girl with light freckles, Ayama he recalled, commented.
"I hope that war will break out soon so there will be a little bit of peace around here for once." Ren snickered at her own joke while pulling out plucks of grass from the field they were sitting on. She was a spiteful girl with a big mouth, a dangerous combination.
Fuji her chest rose suddenly, which was accompanied by a sharp inhale. "Don't say stuff like that!" The girl looked over her shoulder as if she expected someone to spy on them. "You know how much they hear. Do you want to get in trouble?"
With a frown Ayama sat up to look at the huge clock on the sentry tower. "Stop bickering, the break's almost over. Only five more minutes and we'll have to help unpack the new deliveries." Two girls groaned out loud and Itachi thought he'd much rather unpack recourses for the Uchiha all his life then be a ninja for one more day.
XXXXXX
"Ugh I hate chickens!" Ren, by far the most temperamental one of their group, lashed out with her foot when another chicken pecked in her unprotected, sandaled feet. Like usual Itachi offered no reply and returned to filling the water reservoirs of the chickens. Her spiking chakra had made him turn to her in curiosity but it turned out it had been nothing but her irritation. It was said that people born as sensors – and he was beginning to suspect Chie/he was one of them – could even sense the emotions of people after hard and relentless training. Though Chie probably never had any training he could sense something in the chakra of people, something he never felt before.
When he sensed Ren move sharply to the right he turned to her again. Chickens were running from her and it looked like she had just kicked one while proceeding to harshly throw their food at them. Briefly, Itachi entertained the idea of telling her to calm down as he didn't appreciate animal violence, or any violence for that matter, but chose to keep silent regardless.
"Ugh, I just want this to be over with. Ayama and Fuji are probably having so much fun together and I'm stuck here with you." She said looking disgruntled. While her comment was certainly not a friendly one, Itachi knew Ren had a softer spot than she wouldn't care to admit. It showed in the way she reserved food for Itachi when the other orphans tried to eat everything or in how she always looked over her shoulder to make sure Itachi was still following them. So, he wasn't bothered by her less then kind words, the girl had been through a lot to make her like she was.
Three days had passed already, three full days without fighting for his life and taking that of others. Seventy-two hours without worries. Even though he tried to fight it, his guard fell allowing him to enjoy this life and relax for the first time since his childhood shattered in the war. Salvation had come to him in a rather strange form but it had come to him anyway. His burdens were gone and there were no more expectations to weight him down. Yes, there was a war raging on and the Uchiha's were part of it but he had no attachments here, war couldn't strike him as it had done in his previous life.
Maybe, just maybe, his three roommates had started to grow on him despite the fact that he hardly communicated with them but he had found out that in this Uchiha clan women generally didn't fight. It didn't surprise him, the Uchiha were always a more traditional clan and kunoichi were a rarity among them. However, there was never an explicit rule saying they couldn't become a ninja back in his days but here it was simply not accepted. It was almost like the clan had gone back in time. Old fashioned or not it spared him from participating in yet another war. 'Never again.' He thought. No, he would just settle for enjoying it here.
It was possible that this wasn't even real. But he did not think such an elaborate genjutsu was a realistic possibility and this was certainly not how he had imagined his afterlife, that had included a lot more redeeming for his sins and a lot less running around like a teenage girl.
Sweat dampened his heavy clothes as he emptied the last bucket of water in the reservoir. His skin protested with every movement he made and while he was excused from physical labour he got tired of watching others work after a while. Still he sighed in relief when he heard the bells and dropped the empty bucket. Ren who had been opening a sack of grain with a utility knife threw it aside and stretched her arms. "Oh yes, Break time!"
She started making her way to the chicken pen to alert the others but Itachi couldn't keep his attention on her. Instead he was staring at the knife. 'To take or not to take?' Swam in his mind. It was the only weapon girls were allowed to handle aside from kitchen knives and thus he could have it with him as an emergency defence. His old deep seeded habit of having weapons with him at all times begged him to take the knife but another part of him wanted nothing to do with his shinobi life anymore and revolted at the thought of taking up a weapon ever again.
Eventually his cautious, paranoid part won the battle and he bent down to pick up the box cutter, mindful of his searing skin. The thing just disappeared in a deep pocket before three girls emerged from the chicken pen. Two of them looked ruffled and feathers were stuck in their hair and the third was laughing, it appeared like, incredibly loudly.
"Good, it's finally time for our noon break then." Fuji's mounth barely moved when she murmured that. Judging from her dishevelled appearance, the chickens did not take kindly to egg thieves.
It was no surprise that they opted to march towards the fence at top speed and leave the chickens behind them. Itachi followed suit also eager to get away even though he had no problems with chickens.
"You know, I want more than this for us." Fuji all but sighed when she flopped down on the grass. They took their break in the garden of the orphanage.
Ayama nodded with silent agreement but Ren just Shrugged.
"Like what?" She demanded to know.
Fuji, who had busied herself with rearranging her braid didn't bother to look towards her but answered nonetheless. "Like high society stuff, the parties and fancy getups. A good marriage with a good man."
"Sounds dreadfully boring." Ren responded quickly, without pause and Itachi had to agree with her. He'd been there – except for the marriage part – and found none of it worthwhile.
"No more than this is." Fuji shot back, frown in place. "I thought it was your dream to become a successful tailor."
Ren shrugged again. "I changed my mind from all that girly stuff," She plucked at her short burned off hair as if losing it meant losing her girly-ness, perhaps it did. Her hair had caught fire in the explosion that made Itachi lose his skin and while it was put out relatively quickly, the damage had been done and her hair barely reached passed her chin. "I want to be a shinobi."
Both Ayama and Fuji inhaled sharply and sputtered out things like 'are you crazy' and 'that's insane' but Ren looked like she didn't even hear the comments and said, "I don't care." The three of them started arguing about it while Itachi stretched himself out on the grass, relaxing his tired limps. Once those three got going it would take a while before it was resolved
Ayama's freckled nose scrunched up when they all calmed down a bit. Itachi felt rather than saw her pointing at him. He lifted his head. "It's your turn to get water."
"Ayama, her injuries, she can't possi-" Fuji started but stopped when she saw Itachi pushing himself from the ground and ambled towards the orphanage. "I'll do it." He mumbled with his hoarse and rather deep voice. Itachi saw the girls starting an argument again but he wasn't interested enough to 'listen in'.
While they were fed rather little as orphans the weather was hot enough to be dangerous with too little water. So, it always available, put into glass cans on a table in the entrance hall.
Itachi grabbed one that still seemed reasonably cooled and took a few sips himself, the advantage of being the one to get it, then shuffled back towards the exit. By the time he felt it he was almost out the door. It made him stop dead in his tracks. He recognised that sensation… It was a feeling that had haunted him in his worst nightmares and still send shivers down his spine. He didn't even need to use any sensing to feel the horrendous vibe of hormonal fan girls.
He could recognise that energy from anywhere and almost cowered back into the building. Oh, he had had them following him, gushing over him and stalking him even when he had been an s-ranked criminal and even more so when he hadn't been. Back then hours had been lost on hiding and detouring to avoid them and it was still an instinctual reaction to flee while he still could. But Itachi did not cower and pressed forward with the knowledge that he was safe in his current condition.
A notable group of girls had collected on the road aside the orphanage and it was disappointing to find his companions among them. Ayama he could understand, she seemed like that kind of person but he had never expected Fuji or Ren to giggle like crazed hyenas. He didn't really want to go to them but he was still holding the water he promised to Ayama. There was no choice, he would just have to deliver it quickly and then get the hell out of there to enjoy the rest of the break. His eyes caught the boy who was the catalyst of this disaster, a handsome young lad who reminded him of Sasuke but with slightly longer and wilder hair. That should have been his first warning. The boy looked increasingly uncomfortable as he tried to squeeze past the group.
Itachi tapped on Ayama's shoulder when he made it to her. She turned to him. 'Wha-' her eyes moved to the water can and a mischievous light shone in them. "Oh Chie, what a great idea I can give it Madara-kun. He must be thirsty in this weather." And she pulled it out of his hands.
The words crashed into him like brick stones. His eyes sought out the boy again, the boy who would betray his village, the boy who had ran his blade through a fair share of Uchiha clan members, he who was behind the akatsuki organization. There was no question about who he was, not a single soul would consider calling their child Madara after the last one. For the first time since he was here he felt his chakra pulsing. The foreign feel of it was completely lost on Itachi when he felt his chakra boil with hatred, lashing out around with anger and spiking with intent.
He was not in the future, he was not free of burdens and this was definitely not his salvation. At the thought his chakra spiked up even more intense than before. It was enough to make Madara's head snap towards him and as their eyes connected Itachi locked his control around it. The violent chakra influx vanished so abruptly it left the air around them feeling empty, light almost. He didn't stop staring at the boy but he managed to school his expression into one of feigned indifference. His father would scoff at him for making such a show out of himself.
It sickened him to see Ayama run up to him to offer the water giddily. Slowly the boy named Madara turned his head away and absentmindedly refused the offer before he continued pushing his way through the horde of fan girls. Itachi stared after him even long after he was out of sight.
XXXXXX
After the initial shock had passed Itachi's earlier disinterest returned along with a bit of a foul mood. Again, he reasoned with himself that nothing of it mattered, his life was over. He firmly believed that the flow of time could not be altered comparable to a river's course: you could throw a rock in it and that would create a temporary disturbance but it would not change the water's destination. That rock was him, nothing but a minor flutter of disorder to be overlooked. So, he would go were fate took him and right now that was in an old ladies backyard to paint a fence. It did not lift his spirit.
He should take pleasure out of the fact that the life of a dismissible orphan should not mingle too much with that of the most despicable Uchiha known throughout history so he'd rather forgot about him. There was no true resentment towards the boy that would later grow out to be an infamous traitor his chakra's reaction was merely because it forced him to accept he was in far less safe times than he wanted to be. If only his roommates would stop babbling about how cute he was…, they hadn't stopped talking about him ever since he made his appearance.
He sat on his knees to paint the bottom end of the fence white, flattening the grass around it with his hand and pointedly ignoring the conversation around him along with the pain coming from his skin. Some of the paint had splattered on the hem of his sleeves and it gave rather ugly spots on the dark material but it was becoming hard to see clearly enough for painting with care.
Fuji voice hand suddenly touched his shoulder and he looked up to see the first reasonable thing to leave her mouth since that afternoon. 'Let's tell madam Chiharu we're calling it a day. It's getting dark and I'd rather not be late for dinner.' She signalled him to get up again, firmly convinced she didn't understand a thing from what she was saying.
Itachi cleaned the brush and closed the paint bucket as fast as he could. He wasn't hungry per se but tired, tired of being in the constant presence of others and of the unpleasant surprises that kept popping up.
'Ah, Itachi your hand!' Ayama suddenly shouted in his face. He quickly held his hands before his eyes and found… nothing wrong with them. Turning towards the girl with every intention of asking what was the matter he noticed her pulling something out of her sleeve. He tensed. It was thin, iron and ended in a somewhat sharp point. A vague memory of his mother jumped before his mind's eye. A nail file?
'You have a chipped nail. Here you go.' She held the thing in front of him. He briefly thought of turning her offer down not wanting to bother with something as silly as a chipped nail but to avoid unnecessary questions he took it with a nod.
It would be a lot easier if he knew how to use such a thing he silently cursed as he clumsily kept slipping of his nail. Ayama gave him a deadpanned look and was about to comment when they were interrupted by Fuji's appearance. 'Alright I settled things with madam Chiharu. We can go to dinner now.'
He didn't want to go with them, he felt suffocated by them. He wanted to be alone. Not sure how to convince the message without words he simply said 'Not hungry' to them while pocketing the nail file. Fuji's mount fell open since he hadn't talked in days. She tried to sputter a reply but he turned around and walked away. Vaguely he sensed her taking a few steps after her but then she stopped and went the opposite way, leaving him to himself.
His mind was spinning and he didn't know why he felt that way, although he had a feeling it was just the fact that he was trapped in a time he didn't want to be in. But he wasn't ready to confront questions he had no answer to, such as how he got here, so he pushed them away and focused on the things he did know. His name was Itachi Uchiha, he had died at the hand of his brother, Sasuke Uchiha, and he had liked it, after his death he had woken up here. That was it, all he needed to know. His predicament wasn't that bad. For all he knew he could've woken up to a family who knew their child through and through. Surely he would have been caught within minutes.
It might also be the chakra he was now very aware of, it still roiled in distress but he didn't allow it to seep outside like before. The difference with his own chakra was hard to overcome and because of it he truly felt like he wasn't himself anymore. No matter how much he told himself it didn't matter and that he should be happy to have died, the loss of his most loyal companion, his chakra, shook him hard.
To clear his head he walked to the very edge of the compound his path lit by the last rays of the setting sun, staring into the forest that marked to border. A patrolling shinobi passed him without glance and that suited Itachi just fine. He didn't want people to notice him.
He passed the biggest warehouse of the compound, stood still behind it for a moment and then turned around and went back to its front. This was the place where all the weapons and armours of the Uchiha were stocked along with emergency food. While bringing his hand to his lips he wondered if taking a kunai was a good idea. Probably not. But seeing Madara Uchiha had reminded him of many things he didn't really want to remember. Like the constant vigilance he had kept up, how he had to keep his eyes even on the shadows he himself had lived in. For even they could betray him.
While previously he had basically pranced around the Uchiha compound with no worries and his guard down, now he felt on edge. He was not as safe as he thought he was and the gravity of the situation had only just started to settle in. He was weak, something he was unacquainted with. The experience was humbling and he'd rather change it. Some ninja gear would be the first step in getting rid of his current vulnerability.
He pressed his hands against the heavy steel door and before he pushed he knew there were people inside. Three of them, Uchiha checking up on the stock most likely. Common sense told him it was foolish to go in there but he wanted to see if he still had some of his previous stealth. If he would be caught the repercussion wouldn't be that grave. In their eyes he could pass as a hungry orphan stealing of their reserves, a crime worthy of a month of extra chores.
The door gave way smoothly which meant they made no noise, something Itachi was grateful for as he slunk into the dark warehouse. To fight the dark he left the door slightly open but even so the fading light of the day didn't help much and he could barely see the outline of the racks on the first row. His heart started picking up the pace, the loss of two of his most useful senses making him nervous. He tried to summon his sharingan but found that he couldn't. Another devastating blow. There were many things he disliked about his clan, the curse of hatred a prime example, but his sharingan had been dear to him, present since he became eight years old and the despite the gruesome way it was acquired the mangekyou was the last gift his cousin had imparted on him and also held a special place amongst his favoured skills.
Now he was left scrambling between artificial corridors that the high racks created. Almost had he turned on his heel and stepped back out but Itachi still had his pride, be it not so prominent as that of other members of his clan, so he went on. Uchiha's were generally perfectionists to the bone and did not appreciate disorder of any kind so even in a warehouse this size, everything was neatly stacked away in dark tightly sealed boxes. Itachi found this trait worked against him this time for it was hard read the labels and there was no other way of distinguishing the content.
His eyes were so close to the label that his forehead rested against the crate. F-l-o-u… flour. Damn it, he was in the wrong part. If it was Itachi's guess the Uchiha would exile the first person who would even think about placing weapon crates next to the food ones so there had to be some sort of divide, a logical structure.
He marched towards the main path again, were the space between the racks was wider. In the distance there was a soft light. The people he sensed before were over there at some sort of central point. He couldn't see it very clearly but he had a feeling that the main hall had a cross-shape, dividing the place in four pieces. First, he checked the one on his other side. Armour, different pieces in different sizes, lots of it. The oncoming sigh was suppressed, they were shinobi and it could take less than a frustrated breath of air in the distance to alert them, much less.
He briefly entertained the thought of using genjustu to hide his presence but it was immediately dismissed. Without his sharingan he had no idea if he could successfully cast genjutsu in this new body, the sad truth of having one from a very young age, and it was suicidal to cast genjutsu around Uchiha anyway.
So, he summoned a dainty wisp of chakra to his feet to cushion his steps, keeping a tight grip on it so it wouldn't expel into the air and alert the three ninja, and tiptoed towards the nearest path next to the main one. It was narrower and darker but he was also less likely to be seen. He struggled to keep his footing and breathing quiet, this body did not have the muscle memory to automatically be as silent as possible and. On the other hand he wondered if his chakra control had always been so precise, none of his chakra escaped his grasp. Still he was taking a great amount of risk with his loss of years spend training. But the fact that he could take the risk made him almost giddy. Never in his career had he been able to afford the risk of being caught. Now he could because he was no longer a ninja, a thought he rejoiced in.
The light was closer and he found himself pressing his back against the cool iron of the rack towards vertical central path. The shinobi in the warehouse weren't using fire but some sort of lamp. A loss on his part because he couldn't use the flickering of the flame to mask his movements. He would have to run to the other side, briefly revealing himself, making himself vunrable, so timing it right was crucial. He had been focusing on his feet so much that he had lost track of the chakra signatures of the shinobi and he wondered if he had enough control to hold the chakra on his feet and reach for the chakra's nearby at the same time. Glancing at his sandals, he frowned. There were strange symbols on the floor, a line of characters running under his sandals and towards the central point.
Fuinjutsu. His heart hammered in his chest as he tried to decipher its purpose. Was it an alarm seal, a detection one, both? While he didn't see a visible effect of him standing on it that meant nothing. Seals could look meek as a mouse while ending up blowing you to bits. He shuffled his feet sideward and while doing so the ink smudged. His knowledge of seals wasn't anything extensive but he knew that wasn't supposed to happen. It meant that the seal hadn't been fortified yet so it wasn't complete.
A presence tickled his senses. Only his well-honed reflexes allowed him to stay perfectly still instead of startling.
It was right next to him on the main path and if his senses weren't lying to him they were getting closer.
It was not really the time to realise things but it dawned upon Itachi that the brain of this body was not nearly as brilliant as his own had been. This resulted in him coming up blank as he tried to figure out a possible escape route.
All remaining activities in his head were cut short when Itachi found himself staring into the green eyes of a man that was definitely not Uchiha with a companion that was equally un-Uchiha-like. Taken by surprise the man sluggishly reached out for the iron staff strapped on his back.
His eyes shot to a third man further down the hall who was painting on the floor. The situation then crashed into him like a ton of bricks, he had caught infiltrates trying to sabotage the Uchiha red handed and if he would live to tell the clan these three men would certainly die by painful means. And that's why, they were going to kill him.
While wondering if being killed again would bother him terribly or not, the man with the iron staff decided to take matters in his own hands and swung at Itachi. With no time to think he dove under the swing and grabbed for the utility knife in his pocket only to grab the wrong thing. He cursed when his fingers clenched around the nail file and he scrambled to the left to avoid being stubbed on the head by an iron pole. He took his time to note the unskilful way the green-eyed man handled the staff.
The other man threw a kunai his way and the thing tore into the the heavy material of his skirt as he jumped away back into the reach of the staff wielder. The kunai met the ground with a loud clang. He ducked under the swing of the weapon again but that only gave his opponent more time to advance on him. His heartbeat pounded in his ears as Itachi's arm lashed out like a whip shoving the nail file deep inside his opponent's ear. Something gave and the staff dropped out of the man's hand. his lips opened as if in slow motion.
"AAAARRRG!"
For a brief moment Itachi did nothing but watch as the man grabbed his ear and fell on the ground before he was kicked in his ribs and flew backwards against a rack. It did not budge so evidently it was Itachi who bounced of it and onto the ground. He groaned as he met the cool ground, his ribs and his back felt like they were on fire not to mention his burned skin. The man who was still standing was shouting for their third companion then ran towards Itachi. Acting way too fast for his bruised ribs to keep up he rolled out of the way when an axe kick came down on him. His hand brushed against something, the kunai from before. Another kick came his way, this time he let it hit him and it hit his stomach painfully yet he curled around the appendage and stabbed through the ankle. He saw the man scream.
They were young, he suddenly realized, and untrained in fighting probably having preferred stealth above anything else. It was the reason why they overlooked things, why he had a semblance of a chance to defeat them.
He pumped an excess amount of chakra trough his legs and let most of it escape his grip in the hope that it would alert nearby Uchiha. This boosted his jump upward and made his opponent lose his footing as his leg was violently swung into the air. They landed in an ungraceful hump with Itachi on top, a kunai firmly lodged into the now dead man's throat.
Blood coated his fingers, loosening the grip on his kunai. He rose to his feet his senses telling him it wasn't over.
Goose bumps arose on his skin like weed sprang up in a garden. His eyes trailed down the corridor and met those of the third member, the so called Daichi. He was different, Itachi realized as the man gazed upon him with practised indifference while turning a small sword around. His fluffy reddish hair and big blue eyes somehow made him seem childish and innocent but the way he stood there was not. His stance seemed relaxed but was ready to spring in action and the way his eyes calmly slid over the flailing body of his only living teammate spoke of experience with death, a lot of it.
"He has lost all sense of direction." The ninja noted as if narrating a documentary about migrating salmon. "You punctured his ear and now he's alive but can't tell up from down, pretty clever." Itachi remained quiet while trying to secure his grip on the slippery kunai.
A hand closed around his wrist while words were whispered from behind him. "I don't think so." Fingers started applying pressure and his wrist gave way with a sickening 'crack' his kunai dropped to the ground. White hot pain raced through his head. Had dislocating joints always hurt so much?
With no time to think he once again pushed chakra to his legs and threw his entire weight backwards. His head banged against that of his opponent and he heard his teeth clack against each other. He grabbed for his utility knife ready to turn around and stab the man but his opponent was faster and Itachi only just managed to avoid an impaled liver by throwing himself to the left. While his liver had been spared, he did receive a nasty cut on his side that immediately started bleeding heavily.
His opponent advanced on him again, all the while his head screamed at him to run because he knew his opponent was stronger than him, he knew he would die should he face the man in honest single combat. So, he threw himself on the ground and rolled underneath one of the racks. Emerging on the other side, he immediately took note of the lack of light.
The other man dover after him and Itachi rolled under another rack again. It turned into a game of cat and mouse, running around the warehouse, only he was an injured and tiring mousse and on the losing hand. He had to do something because, no he didn't want to die, at least not like this. Itachi had too much pride to die at the hands of such amateurs even if the redhead was slightly more trained.
Instinct told him to find higher ground, to expand his eyesight. Without even thinking about chakra control and the possible limits of his new body he latched himself on the metal of the racks with ease and started to make for the top. When he had almost reached the it, he readied himself for one final leap. Then his eye caught something red. The enemy was emerging behind the rack, also climbing it and ready to strike down Itachi, for good. It was too late to stop himself and just before his foot landed on the metal to push himself the last bit of the way, straight into the arms of the enemy, an imaged filled his head. An image of a blonde kid slipping of a tree when trying to scale it without hands and a black-haired boy whose tree splintered under the strain of his chakra. Use too much and the tree will break around the point of contact.
All his remaining chakra rushed into his foot, pulsating painfully underneath his skin. When he made contact the iron didn't splinter or anything that elaborate. Instead he felt a shock go through him and the metal dented underneath his sandal. The force send him backwards and he was barely able to see his opponent's blue eyes widen as the rack tilted backwards. A second longer and he would have made it to the top but as it was he was halfway there and his body got crushed between two heavy metal racks.
The force of the chakra output in his foot had thrown Itachi backwards. Then it was left up to gravity to make him fall down. His chin hit the ground first and he lost consciousness before his teeth clacked shut.
In between his fall and his unfortunate rendezvous with the ground Itachi realized something. He could not escape himself, he would never be anything but a shinobi.
What do you think? What can be improved? I'm taking a lot of liberties here I know.
Things that might need explaining:
Itachi mentions a genjutsu on that scale isn't possible. Here I am assuming that Itachi does not know of the moon eye plan. Alright, I know we all want to believe Itachi is an infallible god and everything but he was also undoubtedly loyal to Konoha thus he would have reported on something as big as the infinite tsukuyomi. Seeing as he didn't I think it's reasonable to say he might not have known.
I mention Itachi genjutsu prowess can solely be credited to his sharingan. While I accept that this may not be a correct or popular theory, we have rarely if never seen Itachi in action without it and since he was so young when he achieved the sharingan I believe he might have taken some shortcuts into becoming the genius we know.
Perhaps the most pressing matter: Itachi is female in my story but still sees himself as a he. Why did I write it as such? Simply because I think it's funny and it benefits my plot.
Have anymore questions? please don't be afraid to ask!