Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto anymore than you do, Naruto belongs to Kishimoto-sensei. He's stingy and just won't share, so I can only use my imigination and come up with Fan Fics. (Cause I can't draw.) Therefore, I'm only borrowing his characters for creative purposes. How's that for a disclaimer?
A/N: I've been itching to write a Samurai story, so here it is. ^^ I was reminded by the idea and inspired by fallenkarma, who drew a beautiful picture of Naruto and Sasuke in a Samurai setting. So yeah, this story is dedicated to her.
"If a man does not investigate into the matter of Bushido daily, it will be difficult for him to die a brave and manly death. Thus it is essential to engrave this business of the warrior into one's mind well." Kato Kiyomasa
Chapter One
1225 Kamakura, Japan
One young man, of only twelve, covered from head to toe in grime and dirt, and wearing tattered, greyed, filthy, torn clothes watched the warriors and the Daimo depart on horseback. There was a yellowish tint to his hair beneath the grime and dirt, three scars on each of his cheeks, and stunning blue eyes that watched with curious wonder. He jumped at the sound of an annoyed female voice.
"Naru-chan, what are you doing, get in here this instant and wash up for dinner."
"Hai, Okasan!" He said with a cheeky grin before running into the ragged home and past the slender, pale, red haired, green eyed woman. She was wearing a faded, plain, red kimono and her hair was tied loosely in a bun. She smiled kindly after him as he tossed off his shoes before stepping onto the old, and worn out, hardwood floor she had polished that afternoon.
She turned around letting the curtain that was their front door fall and made her way down the short walkway. She stopped in front of the first door to her right to see her husband sitting on the beaten and ragged pillows situated against the left corner of the sitting room with a scroll in his hands. He had shocking blond hair, tan skin, was muscular, broad shouldered, handsome, and had the same stunning eyes that his son had inherited. He was wearing his usual blue yakama over a simple, white shirt and had on white pants. His spiky blond hair framed his face and stuck up at different angles and there was a short amount of hair tied back at the base of his neck and a necklace with a crystal blue jewel that looked much like the blade of a dagger around his neck secured with a thick, hand braided, string.
She smiled as she leaned against the door frame and watched him as he intently read through the scroll, "You're son needs new clothes Minato, he's nearly turned his current ones into rags."
"Hmm," he said with a slight nod.
She scowled, "Did you even hear me?"
"Yes, I heard you Kushina."
"What was it I said then?"
"Naruto needs new clothes, he's outgrown and torn his current ones to nothing but rags."
"Ah, you are paying attention, what are you reading so intently?"
"The latest report on the murder case in Matsue."
"Really now? And why on earth are you reading that?"
"You know I plan to figure out who is doing such a thing."
"OKASAN!!!"
Kushina jumped at the loud shout of her son from down the hall. Minato dropped the scroll and followed her to the room at the end of the hallway and both of them ran into the room on the left to be greeted by a grinning, nude, richly tanned, blond haired, blue eyed twelve year old holding a garden snake in his hands. Minato started laughing as Kushina glared at her son, "Now, was that called for Naru-chan? You scared me half to death."
"I wanted to show you the snake I caught, it fell right on my head and was inside the bucket."
"Well, that's wonderful, will you please finish washing up so you can help me with dinner?"
"Hai!" She playfully hit Minato lightly on the chest when she turned and walked out of the room because he was still chuckling. He looked at his son, "Hurry up and next time don't try to give us a heart attack, alright son?"
Naruto grinned, "Hai!" Minato walked out of the room and heard his son splashing water around as he made his way into the small kitchen just across the hall. He came up behind his wife and hugged her from behind before placing a kiss on the back of her neck and resting his chin on her right shoulder.
"That son of yours . . . "
Minato raised his chin, "Son of mine? He's only my son when he's done something childish."
"Exactly, because both of you are completely immature, childish, incorrigible, pains."
Minato laughed and Kushina smiled at the light sound of his laughter, she loved his laugh, his smile, which his son had inherited, and couldn't help but to laugh with him. He kissed neck again then raised his head to whisper in her ear, "That may be so, but you love us or you wouldn't put up with us. Of course, we love you just as much for doing so."
She felt her cheeks heat up and she stopped washing the dishes in the small sink to place both of her arms on his around her waist and pull them tighter around her. "Yes, I love you both and will never want nothing more than to have to 'put up' with both of you forever."
She turned her head to kiss him lightly and chastely on the lips before she pulled his arms from around her waist, turned and pushed at him in the chest, "Now go and find something for him to wear, he can't put those tattered, filthy clothes back on after taking a bath."
Minato leaned forward, kissed her on the forehead, tucked her hair behind her ears and then grinned, "Of course not," he said as he pulled away from her. He walked to the end of the short hallway and turned left at the end then walked about ten steps to the door at the end. He opened the door to his and his wife's room then to the stack of clean clothes folded and stacked along the floor on the far left side of the room. The barely large enough bed he shared with his wife was placed against the right wall to give them as much room as possible in the small home. He thumbed through the clothes until he came across an orange yakama. He pulled it out and looked at it before draping it over his arm, it would be a little too big for his growing son, but he would grow into it and it was too small for him to wear anymore. He then grabbed a plain, black shirt to be worn beneath the yakama and an old pair of black hakama pants from his days as a warrior.
He did not have a choice to discontinue living as a warrior, it was a way of life, but he no longer had the status as one because he was among the few to speak out about the actions of the Daimo. He had even brought the Daimo's character to question as well as his loyalty and he was immediately ordered to give up his status, wealth, and his rank. He was not among those many called 'samurai' he was a shinobi and one of high rank and skill, an elite who once worked directly for the Emperor during his late teens and early twenties. But now, he was nothing more than common police officer and held little status of influence. None the less, he had his family, and they were comfortable and not starving, so he was content with that.
He stood up after locating the red obi, since he knew the hakama's would be a little baggy on his son and made his way out of the room, closing the hand made wooden door on his way out. He entered the wash room to find his son whistling cheerfully while he used one of the old curtains they often used as towels to dry himself off. Minato cleared his throat and at once his son's eyes met his own and a smile illuminated his eyes as he grinned from ear to ear. Minato held out the clothes and said in as much of a serious tone as he could manage, which wasn't much with his son smiling like that; "These are my old clothes, and they are good clothes that you need to try to keep from tearing up or getting dirty. They will be a little big, but you'll grow into them. Your mother wishes for me to take you to get some more clothes, so these are only to be worn on special occasions and at dinner, alright?"
Naruto nodded, "Hai!" Minato sighed at the enthusiasm in his voice as well as the excited look on his face. Minato turned to get back to the kitchen and said over his shoulder, "I mean it Naruto, don't tear those clothes up, they have history."
"Hai. I understand." Minato nodded and waved over his shoulder as he left his son to get dressed. He hoped his son would be more careful with those clothes, they did mean a lot to him as they were clothes he could no longer afford to buy. He trusted his son to know the difference between the clothes he gave him and those he usually tore up, but Naruto had proved on too many occastions to be reckless, tactless, and often got himself into more than enough trouble. It didn't help that all those who were among the authorities knew him, not just because Minato was one of the police force, but because they often had to bring him in for one thing or another.
He kneeled before the low set table with a sigh, "What do you think of the young man the Daimo is bringing here?"
"I think nothing of him, as I don't know him," Kushina said as she kneeled before the small pot where she was currently stirring rice over the fire. There was a five foot by five foot hole in the floor where they usually built a small fire to cook. She had already set fresh tea on the table with glasses and sugar. Minato fixed himself a glass and took a sip before he propped his elbow up on the table and leaned his cheek against his hand.
"They say that he's an Uchiha."
"Yes, I heard," she replied absently. Minato smirked, his wife was never one for rumors of gossip, she was nonjudgmental, compassionate, kind, intelligent, and she had such a big heart. It was something he often saw in his son and something many disliked about his family. They were outspoken and to everyone else they were outsiders, disgraceful, disrespectful, and many disliked them. Minato knew that it had to do with Kushina being Irish and Japanese, and of course he was raised in Japan, she had traveled, on her own to Japan, wanting to study.
She was a scholar, and though she spoke fluent Japanese an had only a slight accent, many saw her outspokenness, her intellect, her independent nature as unbecoming of a Japanese woman. He admired her for it, when he first saw her he was determined to speak with her, to get to know her. She came to speak with the Emperor asking permission to study in Japan, and though the Emperor was startled and insulted, he allowed it, but said that should she remain in Japan for longer than three months and wished to stay she would have to marry.
She had agreed and planned to leave, until the two of them met. That was fourteen years ago, she had been twenty-two and he twenty-three. They were older than most were when they married, but many seemed relieved that he had married her as they didn't see her as fitting and many detested his ways. "Well what do you think of what everyone is saying about the Uchiha clan?"
She sighed and stood, wrapping a rag around the handle of the pot and picking it up to pour the cooked rice in the bowl she set out on the small counter before she set to cooking the noodles and diced meat and peppers. "Well, as I have never been able to meet or converse with anyone from the Uchiha family, I cannot say I have any opinion. You know I don't care for rumors or gossip."
He smirked, "Yes, I know this."
"Then why are you asking me all these questions when you already know the answer?" Minato smiled, That is something everyone has always found disgraceful about her, she questions me and has her own opinions and they still can't get over the idea that a woman is capable of thinking for herself and questioning anyone. I love that about her.
"Why in the world are you smiling at me like that?"
"Because I love you, I love that you can think for yourself, and that you have your own opinions. I love that you are very unlike most women in this country and are not afraid to speak your mind."
She sighed and did not smile, "Very well, I can see why that catches your interests. However, it is not that Japanese women are any less intelligent or thoughtful. It is a difference in tradition, in how you are are brought up. I was brought up to speak my mind, to voice my opinions, to learn, to become educated and stand on my own. It is not so here, but it cannot be so here as many believe in their traditions and change cannot occur quickly, it must be gradual."
Minato nodded with a gentle smile, Again, she completely takes my breath away. How can she be so understanding when the women as well as the men here are so bias and judgmental towards her? He broke out of his train of thought when Naruto walked into the room. Minato grinned to see that the outfit actually fit his son quite well. The hakama's were a little lose around his hips but the obi managed to hold them in place. The haori fit well thanks to his broadening shoulders but the sleeves were a little too long. Even though the clothes were a little too big, it wasn't to the point that made it entirely obvious.
"Kushina," Minato called and she turned to look at him but stopped at a half turn to gaze at her son who was standing in the doorway looking a little sheepish. She smiled brightly, "Oh my, I can see your face now. That fits you quite well, it looks as if you've grown more than I thought!"
The sheepish look vanished at his mother's words and he grinned cheekily which made his smile brighten and Minato's face split into a grin that mirrored his son's. She stood up from where she'd knelt down to cook and wiped her hands on the thin apron she'd tied around her waist, "You look really handsome Naruto."
"Arigato Okasan," he said with a blush on his cheeks. She stepped up to him and leaned down the few inches so she could kiss him on the forehead. She pulled away only to tilt his chin up so she could gaze into his bright blue eyes, "You clean up well. Now," she let go of his chin, "Try not to dirty that nice outfit up and make sure you take good care of it. You'll grow into it fully soon and it may prove to be helpful should you need to look sharp."
Naruto nodded, "Hai," he said as she tugged on his hand and led him to sit down at the table across from his dad. She finished cooking shortly and then she set the plates, bowls of food, and three pairs of chopsticks in front of them. Naruto poured her and himself a glass of tea. Once they said their daily prayer they ate in silence, as per usual. Then of course, Minato looked to his son once they finished. Naruto was getting to his feet to wash the dishes as he usually did when he was too late taking a bath to help his mom cook.
"You should take off the haori first, to make sure you don't get soap water on it."
Naruto nodded, "Hai, umm . . . "
Minato looked up as Naruto was standing before the sink washing the dishes while Kushina dried them with the same rag she'd used earlier to grab the handle of the cooking pot.
"What is it son?"
"I saw the Daimo leaving, is he going to get that Uchiha kid everyone has been talking about?"
"It would seem so, why do you ask?"
Naruto looked down and stared at the water in the sink blankly, Kushina looked over at Minato questioningly to which Minato shook his head slightly and looked back at Naruto.
"Well . . . I was wondering if you knew how old he is, or what he's like."
Minato smiled sadly, another reason he didn't like the way most treated his family, his son couldn't make friends because of his personality. He often got into fights, that was why he usually returned home covered in dirt and grime, there were times when he would return with cuts and bruises from the fights. Minato wished he could leave, could take his family somewhere else where they wouldn't be treated so poorly, but he couldn't. He used to be a shinobi, used to serve the emperor directly, and therefore he could not leave the country of Japan, he knew too much and they would suspect him of turning into a spy. It was mostly because he would have to cross through China should he wish to leave Japan. And their country was still at volatile odds with China.
Kushina also smiled sadly at her son and placed an arm around his shoulders and hugged him close, "From what I have heard he is your age. But I don't want you to get your hopes up Naru-chan, he is from another village, but he is to work directly for the Daimo."
"Your mother is right son. We also couldn't tell you much about him as we don't know him."
Naruto nodded and sniffed, he made quick work of the dishes and Minato and Kushina were startled by the grin he turned to them, "Well, when he gets here then I will just have to get to know him then."
Kushina laughed and ruffled his hair, "Of course Naru-chan," Naruto turned his smile to her and hugged her tight.
"Skidaiyo okasan." She hugged him close with tears glistening in her eyes and kissed the top of his head, "Skidaiyo."
Naruto released her and then nearly tackled Minato as he hugged him and muttered into his shirt, "Skidaiyo."
Minato hugged him back and ruffled his hair with an affectionate smile, "Skidaiyo, now go to bed son."
Naruto released him with the same bright grin on his face, "Hai!" The energetic boy ran from the room and down the hall towards the front door, his room was the first room on the left, right across the hall from the sitting room. His room had a door and was the same size as that of his parents' room. His room, however, was scattered with clothes, scrolls, a few books Kushina had given him, and old clothes and toy swords and childhood toys. His bed was never made and no matter how many times he was told to clean his room, which he had to do every morning, it always ended up looking as though a tornado had run through his room.
Minato sighed at seeing the orange haori left next to where Naruto was seated for dinner. He got to his feet and picked it up then walked into his sons room to find him sprawled on his bed, already fast asleep and lightly snoring. He looked around the messy room with a shake of his head and set the haori on the only folded stack of clothes to the left of the door. He closed the door softly behind him and made his back towards his own room. Kushina was lighting one of the few paper lanterns they had in the kitchen so she could put up the dishes in the darkening home. Minato helped her silently then they both made their way to their room for the night.
Kurume, Japan
He was finally coming of age, finally becoming a man and a true Samurai like his father, and his ancestors before him. It was a privelege that had been stressed was to be taken seriously, he was to instill Bushido in his daily life with as much vigor as those before him and as he had been raised to possess. He was feeling excited, prideful, but as he sat in his room kneeling before the altar to honor his ancestors he began to calm his thoughts as he was taught to do all his life.
One does not take in responsibility and honor like that of an excited and spoiled child, discipline is as important as honor, loyalty, honesty, respect, benevolence, bravery, and justice. The seven virtues of a Samurai, he focused more on his prayers honoring those of his family that had passed and blessed him with existing and being born a warrior so that he may one day become a warrior and serve and proctect his family as well as the village itself. His father and brother had told him before that one day someone among the village may be granted the utmost honor of serving the Daimo.
It would truly be an honor to any who would be blessed to serve the daimyo in anyway. He finished his prayer and pushed himself back with his hands from the altar, careful not to stand fully while in view of the altar itself. It would be dishonorable as well as disrespectful to stand taller than that of his families ancestors. He made his way to the straw sliding door that was common to every room while scooting on his knees before it. The very dim lighting of the paper lantern in the hallway came into the room as he slid the door open, partially illuminating his smooth features.
Much like those of his clan that inhabited the village he was pale skinned with ink black hair and though his father and elder brother had sharper features his were softened to the point of envious beauty for one so young. At only thirteen he was coming into his own gracefully. Through his years training as a warrior he had a defined physique, but some of his features that were softened effected his build as well. He was slim in his build and though little to no body fat existed from his rigorous training to hone his skills many underestimated his strength because of his size. His sliken black hair was untamable and stood up in the back when not tied in the customary top knot. His bangs were long and spiked unevenly but added a mysterious effect to his face since if he hung his head or bowed to an elder his bangs would obscure his piercing black eyes and thin black eyebrows.
He moved outside of the altar and out into the hallway and only stood once the door was closed completely. He stood with graceful ease and turned on the ball of his foot to walk along the spotless, polished, wooden floor of the long and narrow hallway. At the end of the hallway was another hallway, to the left was where the room of his parents was and to the right would lead to his room and that of his brothers. At the other end of the hallway from where he currently stood was the way into dining area and then a smaller room where firewood and cooking was done.
The servants in the spaced home lived in a small building to the right, a deck ran along the perimeter of the home that led to the servants quarters. There home was much larger than the huts that occupied most of the village, but even the youngest son understood that was because of his ancestors' and his fathers' accomplishments. His family was blessed to need nor want for anything, but in the village and throughout most of Japan, poverty, nobility, and samurai were equal. His father always instilled in his two sons that everyone should be respected and treated honorably unless they disrespect you or dishonor themselves.
He silently, and quickly made his way to his room at the end of the hallway he had turned down to ensure that everything was in place in his room. Though he knew his mother and the servants would clean any mess left behind it was his responsibility to pick up after himself and try to keep his room as tidy as possible. He quietly opened his door and stepped inside then turned around and closed his door just a quietly behind him. His room was large enough to accommodate one his age. A good sized pallet usually lay in the cent of the room but he had folded his blankets and the pallet and set it aside against the wall in much the same way he had found it after his room had been cleaned before.
In the center of the wall on his right sat a hand crafted altar that was where his armor would rest after the ceremony today. His brother and father had given him instructions on how to build it and watched over him as he did so, but they offered no help. In the end he felt prideful of his work and confident that it was strong and sturdy enough for its' purpose. He opened the two doors and stood on the tips of his toes to take down the sword he'd been given when he was younger, today he would wear it again and when he returned home he would have the daisho set that every samurai carried. Daisho was the name given for the two swords and translated into big and small; the katana and wakizashi. Both swords stood for much and years of teaching, study, meditation, training, and discipline had finally prepared him for this day.
His hand finally closed around the charm sword covered with brocade that had a wallet attached to it. The red and white fan was embroided into the wallet, the symbol of his ancestry and clan. Genbuku was the name of the coming of age ceremony. Along with the armor, daisho, and finally becoming a true samurai in the eyes of everyone else, he would also be receiving his adult name. His brother had told him the name their father had decided to bestow upon his youngest son. The name of one of their most cunning and wisest ancestors, Sasuke. His name would no longer be Daisuke, he knew his mother had chosen his name and he would keep his childhood name as well.
His brothers' childhood name had been Tsuku, which he'd had to restrain himself from laughing at when he found out. It made it clear why his brother preferred the name Itachi, even if his name did mean weasel. His brother was cunning, talented, and highly skilled. He was among many that could see the strength in him, but he did not envy his brother, he saught to become as strong as him one day. He swept aside his thoughts on his brother as his father came to mind.
His father was a proud man who everyone in the village respected as the head of the clan. He was always to be addressed as Lord as his position demanded and he was generous enough to others to please their ancestors. He was a reserved man who hardly showed affection for either of his sons, but their mother showed enough affection for both of their parents even though mothers' were not supposed to spoil their children. Their father never complained to her about how loving she was to her sons or lenient at times, but they were often scolded should they step out of line or do something to upset the quiet of the home.
He'd grown out of his childish ways, or so he wanted to tell himself he had, so he was never scolded for anything. He often felt as though his father didn't even notice his pressence, now and then he would grunt or nod at him, but that was only when others were around and they were among the villagers, inside the home his mother and brother were the only ones to acknowledge him. He heard his door sliding open and closed the doors to the altar quickly, but careful to be silent as he turned to see who was at his door.
His elder brother stood in the hallway with one hand on the door and a smirk on his pale face. Unlike himself, his brothers' hair was smooth and straight as it said in a perfect top knot. His features sharper and more mature, and his pressence usually unsettled most as he did not speak much and always had an indifferent expression and tone of voice. He didn't find it all that unnerving as he often was the same, another thing their father had instilled in them when he took the time to speak to them. He was fully dressed in black and red armor of their family, his daisho resting on his right hip and his helmet in his left hand. His brother had agreed to walk him to the temple where the ceremony would be held but he had a task to do outside the village and would not be present for the ceremony itself.
Only his father and three other samurai needed to be present for the ceremony along with his mother as she was also the priestess of the temple. Once his mother blessed and prayed for the gods and ancestors to welcome him as a samurai and place his name among the names of the warriors should he ever lose his life in battle then his father would present to him the katana he had the blacksmith make and the wakizashi his mother had previously blessed for him.
"Ready to go otouto?"
He nodded once to his brother and made his way to the door as his brother turned and began to make his way back down the hallway. They came to the long narrow hallway and walked the length of it in silence. As they came to the front of the house and stepped out onto the deck they both put on their geta before walking down the steps. The rising sun came upon them once they were halfway to the small temple on the other side of the village. The temple was built many years ago and towered over most of the village. Though the village was relatively small there was a wall around the perimeter to help delay invasions and protect the Uchiha clan.
The roads were still made of dirt and the homes little more than huts made of wood from trees and mud. He wore his usual blue haori and dark blue hakama with a black obi. His brother usually wore a black haori and hakama with a red obi. He found it different to have his brother walk along side him with the armor on and ready to go to battle. The yoroi he wore was a deep red while the haori and hakama beneath were a midnight black. The kabuto in his left hand was red on top and black on the bottom. He looked away from his elder brother as the elder raven turned his head slightly.
"Are you nervous otouto?"
"No," was the short reply. One of his less redeeming characteristics was how easily he could become annoying, he had a short temper about certain things. His brothers' taunting and teasing was among one of his peeves. When his brother chuckled beside him he glared at him.
"Nii-san, do you know how long you will be gone?"
Itachi looked at him, his eyes nor expression giving nothing away but he could still sense the slight amusement in his brothers' tone as he answered him; "Otouto, you should have faith in my ability to return safely."
"I do, how long Nii-san?"
"Not too long."
"Nii-san."
"Otouto. I shall return when I return."
He silenced himself as they came to stand at the bottom of the hill where the temple was built. It was more a shrine than a temple like those in the cities, but only the elder brother knew that as he was the only one between the two to have ever set foot outside the village. After today, however, that would change. The current Daimo was in need of warriors as an invasion upon all of Japan was being planned. He knew that he should be proud of his younger brother, but at the same time he did not want his brother to placed in danger. It wasn't that he was not skilled or lacked the abilities or sharp mind of a warrior, he saw no need for one of only thirteen to enter the world of battle and bloodshed.
Of course he would never voice such thoughts and concerns of his brother, he was considered a man by all those in the village and it would be disrespectful of him to say such to his brother now. But the elder brother had a plan of action, something he would carry out while he made his way to the next village where a Feudal Lord awaited the services of his clan. He, his best friend, and one of his cousins would be the only ones going. The task was one that required stealth and quick minds to accomplish. He turned and faced his brother who looked at him then stepped once to the side and turned and faced him as well.
"Today you will no longer be Daisuke of the Uchiha clan, you will be given a name fitting that of a man and that of a warrior. Be safe, wise, and strong." He let his lips curve into a rare smile as he added, "But no matter what, you're still my otouto."
As he expected his younger brother glared at him for a moment before a small smile crept onto his face. Then he bowed his head respectfully, "Arigato Nii-san."
Itachi nodded and waited until his brother raised his head again then he flicked his forehead with a chuckle, "See you soon."
He turned walked back towards the village putting his helmet on as he went before the younger raven could say anything or do more than rub his forehead with an irritated expression. He sighed and turned to face the temple before him and walked up the path towards the red roofed building. He never noticed his older brother stop and turn back to watch him until he disappeared inside the temple.
Itachi closed his eyes for a moment sending up a silent prayer his heart heavy with his knowledge of what his father had waiting as Sasuke's first mission, a mission that would take him from the village. It sickened him and pained him that his brother, one of skill, mind, and purer than anyone in their clan was being auctioned off to become the personal bodyguard and servant of the twisted Daimyo of all of Kamakura so that the clan could continue to live in the wealth of peace and ignorant bliss and not be called to defend the boarders of Japan. The Daimo had first asked for Itachi, but once he set eyes on the younger brother when he was only six years old he decided to continue feeding the clan money should their father agree to hand the younger son over to serve him when he came of age and was honored as a samurai.
The Daimyo would arrive in just seven more days, it would take him six to complete his mission, three days to get there and three to get back. He would not waste time with his mission and have it done without any delays, he planned to stop the Daimo from getting his hands on his younger brother at whatever cost. It was shameful that the other samurai always stressed the Bushido and yet they were breaking it by allowing another to pay the price for their continued happiness and peace. Itachi finally came to stand before the fence that held the horses upon their land.
One of the servants was finishing up saddling the pure black horse that was Itachi's when he arrived. Itachi made his way past the fence to stand before the horse whose dark brown eyes met his before snorting arrogantly at him. The servant looked to Itachi, "Itachi-sama, good morning," the servant was a mysterious man that had come to the village a decade ago. He always wore a gray haori with black hakama and dark gray obi and he had a head band that covered his right eye as well as a black mask to cover the lower half of his face. The only thing they knew of him was that he was a veteran warrior and his name was Kakashi.
It often unsettled Itachi when this man, older, more experienced, and very sharp minded even if he acted aloof most of the time, would address him with the sama honorific regardless of how many times he said that san or kun was fine with him. Kakashi would continue to address him with sama, but he would address his younger brother with kun or san, depending on his brothers' mood. Itachi nodded to the man, "Ohayo Kakashi-san."
Kakashi grinned behind his mask, "Your Okasan would most likely appreciate a farewell before you leave, not that I question your judgment or mean you disrespect." Itachi raised an eyebrow at the man, and along with the honorifics, there were times when he would speak as one who was not a servant. He would only do so when it came to himself and his brother, but it was another thing that often confused him about the man. His mother should be at the temple already for the ceremony, so why was he mentioning her, was there something she left for him inside the house?
"Hai, arigato Kakashi-san."
"Ne, ne, Itachi-sama."
He then set to finishing up and checking everything was in place before he walked over to the fence and picked up a wooden bucket set on the ground and returned to stand before the horse. Itachi made his way into the home and removed his geta at the steps before heading to the dining area where he indeed found a sealed letter sitting on the small table that had not been there earlier that morning. He knelt before the table and picked it up unsealing the letter and unfolding it.
Itachi Tsuku-kun,
I wrote this in haste, as your father would not like to know I am practiced with writing and reading as that is unbecoming of a woman. I shall pray for forgiveness for deceiving him, but I was certain you and your brother knew. I know of your thoughts towards the actions of the clansmen and I will pray for forgiveness for what I am about to say. Do not go on the mission, stay here and wait for nightfall in hiding and take your brother, whatever should fall upon the village does not concern you. I am a selfish woman and the thought of losing my son to that vile man will never be something I can live with. I may very well burn as I disgrace my family by asking this of you my son, but I beg you to do as I ask. Take him in the night and leave this village. I know that the Daimo expects our village to fight back and will bring an army with him to ensure he gets what he seeks here, but you and your brother are more important, more pure, and more worthy of living than any of us. Think of this as a tainted woman's dying request as I am certain my soul will be damned for my words, my deceit, and my thoughts.
Itachi closed his eyes for a moment in thought as he took in the contents of the letter. Though he knew well his mother would surely be damned for such words he would honor her request. It would go against everything he was raised to follow for him to do so, but could he lie to himself and say that he had not already thought of doing just as she asked? He folded the letter again and stood, placing the letter inside his haori before he turned and made his way out of the home. He returned to where his horse and Kakashi were and bowed his head to Kakashi before mounting the horse and taking the reins.
Kakashi's one grayish blue eye met his evenly, Itachi nodded once and Kakashi bowed his head in understanding.
"Good luck Itachi-san."
Itachi watched Kakashi as he turned and made his way towards the home to do the tasks of cleaning before he pulled back on the reins and turned the horse around to make his way to the outskirts of the village and set about finding a place where he could not be found until nightfall. He defined the uneasiness he felt as the effect of what he had in his mind that he was going to do later that night.
