As a mother, Mikoto only ever wanted to protect her children.
She watched her boys grow up, made sure they stayed out of trouble, protected them against the obvious dangers. She taught them not to accept candy from strangers and to be home before dark and to be careful in training. ("No need to get hurt before you actually become a shinobi!") As they grew up, she protected them the best she could, making sure no one could ever hurt them. And she thought she had done a damn good job, too-until the day Itachi came home, face blank, and walked up behind her in the kitchen. He was so quiet she didn't even notice him until he said, "Can we go on vacation? Just the two of us and Sasuke." Mikoto gave him a sideways glance. "That's an unusual request. Any particular reason?" Itachi looked at the floor. "Something bad will happen if we stay here." Mikoto tried to ask what was wrong, but she couldn't get anything else out of him.
That night, he killed their clan. As he walked away, he wondered how different things would have been if Mikoto had said yes, if she had run away with them.
As a mother, Nonou only ever wanted to protect her children.
She adopted orphans of war and gave them a place to stay, treated their illnesses and injuries, told them it didn't matter who their birth parents were as long as they had each other. She kept them away from battlefields and didn't let the younger children run off on their own. As they grew up, she protected them the best she could. And she thought she had done a damn good job, too-until Kabuto knocked on her bedroom door in the middle of the night, pulling at his shirt while tears welled in his eyes. He hadn't gotten up after curfew since he first came to the orphanage, and Nonou wondered what was wrong until he hugged her tightly and her nose wrinkled at the strong scent of ammonia. "Kabuto? Did you have an accident?" After a moment, he nodded and then hid his face. "It's okay, baby, accidents happen." "Not a baby," Kabuto mumbled, and Nonou winced at her poor choice of words. "I know, I just meant… I'm sorry, I should have said something else. Let me clean you up, okay? I'm not mad at you," she added. After that, she noticed that the pictures Kabuto drew contrasted sharply with the ones drawn by her other children-where they had once been cheerful and pleasant, they now had lots of blacks and reds, and she couldn't tell what they were supposed to be. He wet the bed a few more times after that, but she just figured it was a phase. Then Danzo and his men came, demanding a child to be a shinobi.
That night, he left with them. As he walked away, he wondered why how different things would have been if Nonou had looked closer at his behavior, if she had noticed that he changed right after she sent him into town with Kanpu.
As a mother, Akemi only ever wanted to protect her children.
She gave birth to three babies, but the first was stillborn. Her next two pregnancies were spent in terror, and when both children were healthy she sobbed with relief. As they grew up, she protected them the best she could. And she thought she had done a damn good job, too-until Deidara's teacher asked if there was "any trouble at home". Apparently, her sweet little boy had started screaming in class, curling up and not responding to anyone. She watched him more closely from then on, and was forced to admit that he was very different from other children his age. She had noticed before, but pushed it to the back of her mind-the way Deidara lost his temper so easily, how violent he could be, his habit of absentmindedly tug on his hair until he had pulled out large clumps, the night terrors he suffered on occasion. When he was twelve years old, Deidara came home from meeting his team for the first time, and Akemi noticed the burns on his wrist. "Dei, honey? Did anything happen today? You're hurt." His blue eyes met her brown ones, and he opened his mouth to say something-but instead shook his head back and forth before running away. All the problems she had noticed before got worse after that. Where he had once only pulled his hair out in private, now he yanked at the long blond mass in public. He screamed at hit himself for no reason. He became obsessed with making clay sculptures. Akemi's younger child and only daughter, Kurotsuchi, didn't want to be seen with him. "Everybody thinks he's crazy, Mama." After a moment, the little girl looked down and guiltily whispered, "I think so too. I really think he's crazy." Akemi grounded her immediately, snapping that her son was perfectly sane, just a little different.
That night, he stole the village's forbidden jutsu. As he walked away, he wondered how different things would have been if Akemi had just called a therapist, taken him to a doctor, done something about the problem instead of pretending it didn't exist.
A/N: So this just popped into my head. In case you were wondering about anything-bedwetting and drawing dark pictures are signs of sexual abuse in children, and Kanpu was the male caretaker at the orphanage.