AN: When the summary says "eventual" that means "The author is probably asexual and doesn't give a rat's ass what you find boring" (kidding, partially. I really am asexual.)

The next chapter deals with Itachi.

Remember, Valbino is now on Twitter...as Valbino! What a shocker!(but in all seriousness, I've had a twitter since...uh...forever?)

000

IV: The Tempest

Mizuki burst into the room with a small leather case the next day. There was a strange spark in her dark eyes that reminded Sasuke of Orochimaru. He tried to control his budding anxiety, at the same time completely frustrated with himself. He had better self control than this, didn't he? He was an Uchiha. Uchihas were the paragons of discipline and self control.

She did not say anything, just a simple hello. She set her case on the table and opened it, sorting through the many papers within. Eventually she brought out a simple rectangle of paper, totally blank on the side visible to Sasuke. He could see the silhouette of whatever was printed on the other side. She placed it on the table face-down.

"Turn it over," Mizuki said, slipping out of the room when Sasuke bent down to pick it up.

He flipped it over. It was a photograph of Itachi, probably taken when he was a member of ANBU. His eyes were dark, their natural brown. Sasuke crumpled it in his hand. He couldn't breathe; he felt like he had been slammed in the gut and the wind knocked out of him. Why would Mizuki do this? She even left the room.

Without thinking, Sasuke activated Sharingan, shaking. Suddenly he was seven years old again, and staring at Itachi's retreating back, and wondering why his brother wouldn't train with him even one time. The photograph was ripped to shreds. Itachi was killing their parents. The paper drifted to the floor. Sasuke cast a fireball jutsu and turned the shreds of paper into ash; the tile floor had a burn mark, but was otherwise unharmed. So the chakra suppressor didn't last more than a few hours; he had been given round the clock injections previously.

Mizuki slipped back into the room with one eyebrow raised. "I was expecting a slightly less...violent reaction."

"You took me off the chakra suppressor."

She nodded. "Yes. I figure if we're going to get you in a position to deal with your PTSD, some trust is in order. I trust you not to attack me, you trust me not to drug you. Fair?"

He considered this for a few seconds. "I hope you aren't going to pull anything like that again."

"I don't think I will for awhile." She pushed her glasses further up her nose. "Deal or no deal?"

"...Deal," Sasuke said. "Why did you show me that?"

"To gauge your reaction time and find a starting point."

"I thought that was the stupid writing exercise." Sasuke deactivated the Sharingan and frowned.

"No, not really. I didn't look at what you wrote; actually, I destroyed it. Was it helpful at all?"

"No."

"Alrighty then. What do you like to do?" she asked, black eyes staring at him keenly.

"Train. Take walks."

"That's it?"

"Yeah?" It was Sasuke's turn to raise an eyebrow.

"Do you think training would help you deal with your current mental state?"

He was quiet, mentally turning it over in his head. "I think so."

"Now we're getting somewhere. Although, I will warn you, you're going to eventually have to learn how to deal with it properly. You can't find a log to punch every time you feel upset."

"I know."

Mizuki pulled a file folder out of her case and skimmed through it. Her fingernails were long and painted red. She hummed idly as she read.

"So, Mizuki."

"No Mizuki-san?"

"Mizuki. Why were you assigned to me?"

"I know some of your family," she said, giving Sasuke a wary look. "They were sometimes a bit...odd, but not bad."

"You mean Itachi, don't you?" he spat out.

"I mean your parents." Mizuki's glasses slid down her nose a fraction. "I am privy to certain facts. Such facts don't really concern you at this moment. Let's deal with your current frame of mind."

"What about Itachi?"

"He's not entirely sane. You are my concern at the moment, though."

Sasuke's nostrils flared, but he did not give any other indication of his frustration.

"Let's take a walk. Fresh air will probably do you some good," she said. "I already cleared it with security."

000

Sasuke dug his hands into the pockets of the scrubs he had been forced to wear as deeply as the pockets went. He had asked Mizuki if he was allowed to stop by his apartment and pick up his clothes. She had cocked an eyebrow and nodded. They walked mostly though the older, narrower streets. Mizuki noticed that as he walked, the tension in his posture lessened.

The pair achieved an uneasy coexistence as they walked under the trees. Periodically, Sasuke would activate Sharingan, making sure it was still working, to be certain of Mizuki's honesty. She glanced up at the trees, remembering the one time she had visited her acquaintances. The Uchihas.

She had met Sasuke when he was only a toddler; he probably didn't remember her at all. She had recently become a jonin. Mikoto Uchiha, upon hearing the news, invited Mizuki over to their home for a little celebration. Itachi had been there, only an eight-year-old. Barely a genin. Itachi was a quiet, polite, pleasant boy, only speaking when spoken to.

He had read in the corner during Mizuki's stay, with little Sasuke on his lap. Sasuke was getting in the way of his reading, but Itachi paid no mind, simply moving his little book whenever Sasuke obstructed his view. Mizuki asked if she could hold Sasuke for a bit, and Itachi hesitated before passing the little boy over to her. She gently sat him on her lap and stroked his soft hair.

"Ah, Mizuki-chan, what are you going into exactly?" Mikoto asked. "I know you mentioned medicine."

"Oh, yes. I'm going to work with Ibiki Morino, I believe, in psychological research."

"How fascinating!"

"Hm. Do you have any further ambitions?" Fugaku Uchiha had asked. His mouth was in a perpetual frown.

"I would like to help victims of psychological trauma if I am able to," she said, with a shy smile. Sasuke made a burble of joy when Itachi picked him up again.

"What do you mean by that?" Itachi asked, with a guilty glance toward his parents.

"Well, say...if someone sees another person get hurt, they might need me to help getting over that, or just someone to talk to. I'm not much of a fighter." She grinned.

"Grow out your hair and get different glasses," Itachi said, with the wide eyes of someone trying to be innocent. "People will want to talk to you more."

Mizuki touched her jaw-length hair self-consciously, and her very large, very round glasses slid down her nose a bit. Mikoto scolded Itachi in a low hiss, telling him to be more polite. Fugaku raised an eyebrow and almost seemed to approve of the comment.

"Heh. Out of the mouths of babes, huh?" Mikoto said. Her cheeks were flushed with embarrassment. "Itachi, what did I tell you to say?"

"I'm sorry, Mizuki-san." He glanced down at Sasuke's downy head.

"It's alright, Itachi-kun. I'm not mad. I don't usually give a whole lot of thought to my appearance." She took her glasses off and couldn't tell one Uchiha from another. "Any better?"

"Yeah. You have pretty eyes, Mizuki-san." Itachi smiled shyly up at her from his seat on the floor. "They're really dark."

"I can't see, though, so I'll have to put these back on." Mizuki smiled and replaced her glasses.

Soon after, they shared parting words and Mizuki left, to see her peers in the big jonin exam celebration.

Mizuki sighed and looked at Sasuke. He was heading stolidly to the small apartment he had mentioned before. It wasn't a part of the Uchiha complex, that much she knew. It was a good thing. Keeping him in that place would simply be asking for him to go on a rampage; being near things that reminded one of the traumas they encountered tended to exacerbate the symptoms of PTSD. Perhaps once he improved enough to function outside of the realm of his private room in the mental ward without supervision.

Sasuke nodded at her as he stepped into his home. He returned with a bag full of clothing, which he tossed into her arms.

"I didn't put any weapons in there. A deal's a deal. You can check anyway."

Mizuki let Sasuke walk ahead of her before using one hand to shuffle through his clothes. He had been honest. There were no weapons. Not even a single senbon. She decided to trust him more often, if a second opportunity arose.