A report, again. If he's not away for a mission, he trains on ANBU training grounds. I he doesn't train, he sharpens his weapon. If he doesn't sharpen it, he sleeps. And if he doesn't sleep, he fills mission reports for the Hokage.

What a wonderful life of a ninja he has. Woo-hoo.

With eyes narrowed from weariness, he looks dreamily at a piece of paper under the scroll he's supposed to fill. It's been already ten minutes since he lost his concentration. A proof for that is looking at him right now: one little crow he painted with the paintbrush. The tiny bird sitting on a thin branch of a small tree… A shade of smile dances in the corner of his lips. He likes painting. He managed to create at least a hundred of paintings in his short life. Not that anybody knows about his secret hobby (apart from Shisui). After all, he's supposed to be a shinobi, not an artist. But honestly, both of them have a lot in common…

He looks up lazily when he registers steps in the corridor. He hides his little piece of art in a closet on his right and pretends to focus on the scroll in front of him. But he doesn't really. A knock on his doorframe is heard just five seconds later and he spares a slow look in its direction.

"Busy?" Uchiha Mikoto smiles at him softly from behind half-open door.

"I am" he mutters.

"I'm not going to disturb you, then" she shrugs. "I just want you to know that I have some errands to run…"

"It's ten in the evening, kaa-san" Itachi says hesitantly and puts down the paintbrush.

"It is. But still, I'm out for a couple of hours."

"Is everything-"

"Yes" she interrupts before he gets a chance to finish. "Your father isn't back home yet, so I need you to take care of your brother. Nothing much, I just still feel uneasy when I leave him home alone, so please, try to stay here tonight. Will you?"

"I will" he murmurs, looking away from her.

"You wanted to-"

"No. I'll stay home. I don't want him to be here alone either" he assures. He hears her quiet steps and a moment later he is pulled in a warm hug. He wants to protest at first, but when a hand caresses the back of his neck, his words die in his throat and he relaxes. He does.

"Thank you" his mother's whisper sounds just next to his ear. He mumbles something in response and pulls away from her reluctantly. But he smiles a little when he feels a quick kiss on his cheek. "My little hero."

No, he isn't a hero. There's nothing heroic in what he's doing. He's an ANBU. A killer, literally. He leaves on one mission after another and the majority of them consists on killing. He's a tool in his superiors' hands. A necessary tool for Konoha to exist. But there is nothing heroic about it. It's just sad and he can't understand why nobody seems to share his opinion. Even his own mother. Not that he talked to her about it… But she was an ANBU too before she gave birth of him. Did she feel the same disgust as he does when she headed out for S-ranks? He hopes she did, but he isn't sure.

Maybe he's not meant to be an ANBU agent. Fine, of COURSE he isn't. But it's not like he has a choice. His clan needs him. Though with every passing day Itachi doubts it more and more.

He was happy when he got an offer to join the Black Ops. It was everything he ever wanted: at the age of eleven he, Uchiha Itachi, joined the most elite formation in the Leaf. Everybody was so proud of him. His father smiled and squeezed his shoulder the whole day. His mother hugged him every morning, telling him how proud she was. Shisui couldn't stop talking about his little cousin's success… And look at him now. A twelve years old boy, who's hardly supposed to be able to walk on water, almost achieving the top of his shinobi career.

Pitiful.

How much he wishes now that he didn't graduate from the Academy early. Maybe then the whole village wouldn't look at him with such a ridiculous awe in eyes. All these people… So blind. Too blind to see a screaming child inside of him.

He misses his childhood. The careless moments with his mother, the peaceful mornings when he was helping her with preparing breakfast. The happy evenings when his father sat with them in the kitchen and was looking at him fondly, not caring that Itachi babbled non-stop for hours. The moments when he was leaning on his mother's belly to feel his little brother's movements… And then everything changed. Because he was too talented to ignore it, so everybody decided they would exploit it. And he was too naïve to understand their logic back then, so he didn't resist. And look at him now.

He hears the door closing behind his mother, but at the same time, some foot pats are audible from the corridor. They don't belong to Sasuke, he's sure of that. He recognizes them just a second before his door open once again and a young man gazes at him with a tired smile.

"Yo" he raises a hand in a greeting gesture. Itachi only blinks in response. "I'm back" he announces and with no restraints, he falls down to Itachi's bed. "Man, I'm exhausted" he moans, wiping his eyes. "Is there something left from dinner?"

"I guess" he mumbles, playing with the corner of the scroll. "Just make sure not to eat everything, father hasn't eaten yet."

"He's not back yet?"

"No."

"Daaaamn. Troublesome clan" he stretches lazily and wraps up in the coverlet. "I changed my mind, I'm staying here" he mutters quietly.

"Go take a shower, you have mud on your clothes" he doesn't get an answer. "Shisui."

"Tomorrow."

"You're not going to sleep in my bed like this."

"Have some mercy for a tired cousin" Shisui sighs deeply and closes his eyes, turning his back to Itachi.

"Get up."

Everything he gets from him is a snore.

Itachi rolls his eyes with annoyance, but gives up and glances once again at the scroll. Three minutes of concentration and he's done with his report. He abandons it immediately in the corner of his desk and wipes his eyes to get rid of sleepiness. He observes sleeping Shisui for a while, already wondering where he put a spare mattress one week ago, when his dear cousin stayed overnight. It was so common for Shisui to sleep in his room, it's been for years now. There was a time in the past when he almost lived here, but it ended around two years ago, when he turned sixteen. Still, until then, he managed to become a permanent element of the main Uchiha family's life. And if Itachi was honest with himself, he missed him sometimes. It was nice to talk to someone in the middle of the night when he couldn't sleep.

But they grew up and the childish happiness was over now. Oh, how he missed it.

As silently as he can, he slips into Sasuke's room and opens his wardrobe. He removes a mattress from the highest shelf, standing on his tiptoes. Just then he notices a pair of black innocent eyes observing him quietly in darkness.

"Did I wake you?" He asks softly.

"No. Shisui did" Sasuke mumbles. "He's back from his mission?"

"He is" Itachi nods and sits next to his brother's bed. "He's covered with dust, mud and I don't even know what else and he's asleep in my bed."

"Why didn't he took a bath first?"

"Ask him" Itachi sighs and a flame of happiness lights in his heart, when he hears Sasuke giggles.

"Will you make him clean up tomorrow?"

"Of course I will" he shrugs.

"He won't listen to you."

"I'll make him."

"You're funny, nii-san" Sasuke smiles widely and so, a shade of smile appears on Itachi's lips too.

"Mother is out. She said she had something to do" he informs lightly.

"Oh… But she's gonna be back in the morning, isn't she?"

"I guess" he nods and, for a short moment, he tangles his fingers in Sasuke's hair. "You should be sleeping right now" he thinks aloud.

"I don't want to sleep if I can talk to you instead."

"Okay, I'm out then" he stands up and waves his hand to his pouting little brother. "Oyasumi, otouto."

"Oyasumi" Sasuke mumbles a little unhappy, but wraps up in his blanket anyway. "But you'll train me tomorrow…"

"I will."

"Yey" he smiles victoriously and yawns widely, when Itachi closes the door.

When he's back in his room, he abandons the mattress on the floor and seats down behind his desk again. He is not tired enough yet. So he takes a shit of paper from a drawer and, holding a pencil in his right hand, he starts to create a picture of sleeping Shisui, who's now asleep with his legs on the floor. A slight smirk appears on Itachi's lips, when he sketches his cousin's wide-open mouth and his face covered with dust. He can't wait to show it to him in the morning. You thought Uchiha Itachi has no sense of humor? Well, he does. But he reveals it very rarely. When you are an Uchiha heir, you have to be careful with any kind of jokes you make.

He leaves the painting to dry overnight and goes to the bathroom to take a quick shower and change his clothes. He's back a couple of minutes later. He sets a spare mattress with visible ease and finally lies down with his face turned to the window. He tries to find stars on the sky, but doesn't notice any even with his sharingan. He falls asleep a little disappointed.

An hour later a fierce thunder wakes him so suddenly that he sits up. He groans under his breath and looks at the sky with reproach. But heavens don't care about his preferences and raindrops continue to fall down from dark clouds, when he once again tries to fall asleep. Unsuccessfully.

So he gets up and leaves his room quietly, only to find himself entering through Sasuke's door. His little brother isn't afraid of storms. Itachi isn't either, not anymore. But he doesn't like thunders and lightning. So he crouches down and, pushing Sasuke to the right side of his bed, he lies down behind him and covers himself with the small blanket.

And he drops off a minute later. Like always.

A/N: This story takes place one year before the massacre, when Itachi isn't that stressed and cornered by everyone. He's not as mature as he is one year later. He spends much more time with Sasuke, Shisui and with his parents. Their relationship isn't that tensed yet.

And I don't believe Sasuke was afraid of storms. But Itachi? Why not?;)

I hope you liked it. Please, let me know what you think!