Hey guys! I'm sorry that this update is coming later than I initially suggested… I'm a rotten liar. Gomen ne. It's the worst when you know how the plot will progress but don't know how to get it there. And I had to take some time to emotionally recover from rereading Wisteria by Gone-15535. It's sooo good, and if you're interested in the Konoha Founders' era at all, you need to go read it. It's long and the romance develops painfully (and perfectly) slowly, but it's completely worth it. At least I think so, since HashiMada is my OTP. OTP! OTP!

Anyway, tally ho!

Meadie out.

{Amity}

{Chapter Four}

"Itachi… help…." Minato's low voice croaked from behind his office door, the blatant distress echoing through the plea causing panic to prickle along the back of said Anbu's neck. In a silent flutter of shadow and pale skin, the Uchiha stormed into the office, the tomoe of his Sharingan already unfurling behind his weasel-faced mask, ready for an assault.

"Hokage-sa… ma?" he queried with urgency before skittering to a halt, his eyes returning to their typical obsidian hue as he removed his mask with a sigh, scarcely fighting to conceal the disapproval that crept over his features. The Yondaime sat with his cheek resting pitifully against the desktop and arms hanging limply at his sides, fingers nearly dragging the floor, as he pouted like a child, flanked by two immense stacks of paperwork. Mild amusement tugged at the blond's lips as a smile flickered in the Anbu's gaze for a fleeting moment, a miniscule expression of affection that the Uchiha permitted him to see, rather than let escape through a crack in his defenses. It had become a game of sorts, exclusively played between the two of them, and strictly off-limits to other prying eyes. But as soon as it began, their bout ended, and Itachi promptly reaffixed his mask of stern indifference, his low voice neutral and unapologetic. "Hokage-sama, please do not summon me using that tone unless you are truly in distress."

Golden hair fell across a wounded cerulean gaze as Minato raised his head for a moment, only to let it drop back to the desk with a resolute thud. "I am in distress. How can there be so much work built up when I only took one day off to spend time with my family?" he whined.

"Family"? Itachi thought, swallowing the single violent beat of his heart inspired by the elder man's casually spoken words. Is that what this is supposed to be? Because I don't deserve one anymore.

"Help me out here, Itachi. Cover for me while I take a break."

"Lord Fourth," the onyx-eyed shinobi scolded in the same tone he often used to discipline Sasuke, "your sabbatical for lunch ended not even thirty minutes ago. I will fetch you tea so that you may continue with your work."

His words were clearly too much of an order – rather than suggestion – for Minato to decline, and so the blond simply frowned at the younger man's back as he excused himself and slipped silently back into the hall. Huffing and rubbing his eyes, the Hokage conceded to his lover's demands, collecting several reports from one of the two immense stacks that adorned his desk and beginning to work, feigning diligence. When Itachi returned several moments later, the elder shuffled the papers sprawled over the table top, grabbing his brush and dousing it in ink, only to flush slightly upon realizing that he had absolutely no idea what he was pretending to write.

Nice try, Itachi thought smugly, carefully placing the tray of tea on the edge of the desk without a word. He looks like a child shoving the food he hates most around on his plate. Sasuke used to do that with… what was it? Nattō? That's right, he used to hide it under his rice so that father wouldn't see.

"What are you smiling about?" Minato asked, snaking his arms around the Anbu's slender waist and tugging him into his lap, placing gentle kisses along pale, aristocratic cheekbones. "See? There, right at the corners of your eyes."

"Nothing at all, Hokage-sama. Please return to your work," the Uchiha replied coolly, standing to stride silently to the far side of the desk, ever aware of the lustful gaze that lingered on each of his movements. "Lord Fourth, I will be taking my leave soon. My clan's elders have summoned me for a gathering this afternoon and I must collect Shisui as well."

"I remember, you told me this morning. You're excused at your own convenience for today," the blond said, gaze and tone growing bitter.

With a shallow bow, the dark-haired shinobi turned to leave. "Hai. Arigatō gosaimasu."

"Be careful."

"Hai, Yondaime-sama."

"I'm serious, Itachi."

Studying the other's darkening expression intently, the Anbu softly sighed, his muscular shoulders slackening slightly as he faced the agitated Hokage once more. "I doubt that anything will happen; I'm certain that this meeting was called in regard to the succession of the position of clan head. If something should occur, Shisui will be with me. No one can rival his power and speed within the clan, even in his current condition. Everything will be fine – they are still my clansmen after all."

Reluctantly, the blond nodded, softening his expression. "Very well. I trust you."

"Hai, Minato," Itachi soothed with a flicker of a gentle smile in his otherwise lifeless black eyes, "I'll be back in time for dinner."

{{{Amity}}}

Itachi swallowed a silent chuckle as he glanced casually to his left, amused by Shisui's poorly concealed frustration at the incessant lecturing of the clan elders, whose conversations seemed bound to some absurd circular singularity. The older man briefly returned the Anbu's look, his formal posture wilting for an instant as he soundlessly expressed his irritation to his younger cousin. In return, Itachi did little more than shake his head, straining to return his attention to the matter at hand.

The elders appear not to suspect my involvement in my father's death, it seems. Madara's name alone was enough to capture their attention, he thought, recalling an earlier discussion when he and Shisui had been rather aggressively prompted to provide explanations regarding recent events. Façade firmly in place, the elder of the two had effortlessly woven a mirage of the truth with his confidently spoken words; expressing that a man who claimed himself to be none other than Uchiha Madara had attacked him and stolen his eyes before striking down the former clan head. Assuring that this intruder did in fact possess the Mangekyō Sharingan and was skillful enough to defeat Shisui was sufficient proof of the truth, it seemed, and Itachi pondered whether the elders were too trusting or simply stupid. However, as soon as he asserted that it was Namikaze Minato who helped to prevent any further harm from befalling the clan, the simmerings of discontent that had calmed with the suppression of the coup and his father's death began once more to boil.

"One act of half-hearted contrition is not enough to reverse decades of oppression against the Uchiha," an elder croaked, his voice cracking beneath the strain of age and arrogance. "The Hokage certainly was only protecting the village, and the threat just so happened to appear within the Uchiha compound. His assistance was a mere coincidence. He has no concern for us!"

A chorus of accord rose within the room, making it feel far too cloistered and suffocating for Itachi's liking, his frustration invisible on his features though it pounded fiercely in his veins, just below the surface. "If I may," the Anbu interjected calmly, serene authority woven through his tone, "Yondaime-sama aided Shisui and protected myself – going so far as to shield me from a poisoned kunai after I had exhausted much of my chakra during my battle with Madara. Given that, as well as my own observation of him, I believe that he would be open to any discussion regarding the status of the Uchiha."

"Certainly not!" came an enthusiastic cry from across the space, "He may appear reasonable, but Namikaze Minato is still the Hokage and will never listen! The Fourth Hokage will dismiss us just like the Third and the Second. There is no end to it!"

"Or has he ensnared you as well, Itachi?" another voice retorted bitterly. "We sent you to obtain information on Konoha and to monitor the scheming of those who lead it, not to become the Hokage's pet! Even residing with him… how unnatural. You've done your job too well, it seems."

Gaze narrowing, Itachi hardened his features as he spoke in a steady monotone, disregarding the warning grip that Shisui had on his knee. "Lord Fourth suggested the current arrangement out of concern for my brother's wellbeing, and out of guilt that he was not able to prevent my parents' deaths. If that does not offer testament to his openness, then I am not sure what else will. Unless, of course, it is you who do not wish to find a diplomatic solution to the issues that plague the Uchiha."

"Itachi," Shisui cautioned lowly, growing wary of the cracks that were beginning to appear in the younger man's mask of stern indifference. "That's enough."

"Are you not an Uchiha as well?! Do you not wish for the best for your clan?!" an elder questioned angrily. "What would Fugaku say?!"

At the mention of his father's name, Itachi felt his anger and resentment and despair bubble into a singular urge to be heard, and he raised his voice, Mangekyō Sharingan boring into the astonished expressions of everyone present as it unfurled like a livid rose. "It is because I am an Uchiha that I wish to resolve our differences peacefully, with words and not violence!" he huffed, pausing a moment to calm the tremor in his tone. "Why should we risk the lives of children in a war that we cannot win? To simply prove a point? For obstinate pride? It is because I wish for the best for my clan that I will not permit such a thing to occur. The fate of the Uchiha does not have to be written in blood as in the past."

"Itachi, please. Stop this," Shisui pled in a whisper, the urgency in his words the only thing betraying his rather placid countenance. "Hide your Sharingan."

Obeying his cousin's order, the younger Uchiha promptly permitted his gaze to fade back into a soulless shade of obsidian as he lowered his head respectfully. "Moushiwake arimasen deshita," he stated to the rattled elders in a rather unapologetic tone, "my outburst was extremely inappropriate."

"M—Mangekyō…" someone murmured vaguely.

"Hai," Itachi bluntly replied. "It awakened following my parents' murders, when I faced Madara and he threatened to dispose of the Uchiha." Sensing the tension that his cousin plainly held at bay, he sighed in apology, frowning to himself as a dense, contemplative silence draped itself over the room like a wool cloak.

"With this, Konohagakure could be defeated," the belligerent elder from before concluded, settling the Uchiha prodigy with a demanding crimson stare. "With the Mangeky—"

"I respectfully decline."

"Are you turning against the Uchiha in favor of that Senju-borne mockery of a village, Itachi?"

"Certainly not," the Anbu stated firmly, giving a shallow bow before rising to his feet, preparing to leave. "I will defend the clan and Konoha with this kekkei genkai, and as such, I will not use it as a weapon against either. Now if you will excuse me…."

The room fell hauntingly quiet as Itachi departed, grateful that Shisui's presence followed closely at his back, not speaking a word. Stepping into the cold evening, the younger man sucked in a deep breath, holding the icy air diligently in his lungs until it warmed to the temperature of his body before releasing it back into the night in a gust of white. The streets of the compound remained as usual, wholly unaffected by the discussions that took place behind closed doors between angry old men. And as those he passed addressed him warmly as 'clan-head' – an admittedly bizarre occurrence that still managed to startle him beneath his mask of indifference – Itachi hoped dearly that his impulsively spoken words had held some effect. At last Shisui broke the silence between them with a small smile, his tone surprisingly light despite the intensity of the atmosphere which they had just left.

"Well, it could have been worse."

"I'm sorry?"

The elder Uchiha chuckled to himself, pleased with the confusion that scarcely etched itself onto Itachi's stoic face. "I don't think anyone will doubt that you have the authority to be the head of the clan, not anymore. Your little outburst scared me for a second there, but at least no one is under the impression that you're a pushover. Though you shouldn't have let your Mangekyō show."

"Hai," the Anbu admitted reluctantly, ashamed, "gomen nasai."

"Don't worry about it. I doubt that any of the elders will be letting Danzō know, since he is their 'enemy' after all," Shisui soothed, clapping a brawny hand on his cousin's shoulder. "But I understand why you got angry. They wouldn't listen to reason, condemning Hokage-sama despite all that he has done. Though what you said about his aiding us for the sake of the Uchiha wasn't quite true, was it?"

"You think he was working for the safety of the village alone, as well?"

"No. I think that he helped the Uchiha for you."

For me? That's absurd. Minato was doing his duty as the Hokage, nothing more, Itachi thought, casting aside the ridiculous notion as the pair neared the imposing gates of the Uchiha compound. He could sense the elder shinobi's scrutinizing gaze through the encroaching darkness, but disregarded his cousin's words as yet another of his jests – though the new clan head could not help but be soothed by the normalcy of their conversation. Shisui had flawlessly assumed the role of Itachi's right hand within the clan; a position which he had somewhat claimed, rather than been appointed to. For that, the younger man was grateful beyond words, as there was no other to whom he would have offered the job anyway. He refused to trust anyone as deeply he did Uchiha Shisui.

"What a ridiculous thing to say," Itachi scolded, though his tone was light. "You've clearly gone mad."

"I am an Uchiha, after all," the elder quipped with an easy huff before patting his cousin's head as if he were some prized pet. "Go get some rest. You might have made enemies of a few elders, but I'm still proud. I'll see you later, yeah?"

Nodding silently, the Anbu dismissed himself and took to the rooftops, finding himself once again straining to comprehend the genuineness that always seemed to shine brightly through Shisui's smile. It was a seemingly impossible feat for the majority of the clan – to easily purge hatred from their hearts as Shisui did… and as Itachi himself sought to do. The Curse of Hatred many called it; and given such a grim reputation, the Uchiha prodigy could not hold fault against the residents of Konohagakure for maintaining such persistent suspicion of the clan with bloody eyes. Yet still, he permitted himself to keep lit a small ember of hope which burned somewhere in his chest, behind his heart, that yearned for peace and tempted him with sweet whispers of impending change.

Perhaps that change would come while he managed to hold the position of leader of the Uchiha clan, however brief that time may be – as he suspected that many of the elders were already working to supplant him with another, dissatisfied with where his loyalties lay. Even so, there would still be hope, as the only suitable candidate besides himself would be Shisui, whose abilities and personality made him ideal for the role. Conveniently, Itachi thought, his cousin had managed to keep his favoritism towards Konoha largely concealed from the clan as a whole, and they would be far more trusting as a result.

The dark-eyed shinobi slowed his gait as he approached the Namikaze residence and lithely dropped into the street, burying the guilt that had bubbled into his chest following his apparent scheming with Shisui's future. Opening the door and removing his sandals in his typical meticulous fashion, Itachi was greeted with warmth and light and the scent of the evening meal wafting from the kitchen. While the aroma was promising, he could not help but remain suspicious of any attempts that Minato had made at preparing an edible dinner, and so proceeded into the dining room with curious caution.

"Okaeri, clan head," the Hokage teased, though he continued to stand staring absently into a simmering pot, looking dejected and entirely helpless. "Uh, Itachi… since it was getting late, I made rice and miso, but that's as far as I got."

"That's far enough, Yondaime-sama, I will do the rest."

"Gomen," the blond chuckled, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly as the Uchiha claimed the kitchen, moving about as effortlessly as he did in battle. As soon as the younger man paused for a moment, Minato closed his arms around the slender shinobi's waist, tugging a leanly muscular back against his chest and nestling his chin in the curve between a pale neck and shoulder. "How was your first meeting as leader of the clan?" Itachi snorted slightly, but said nothing more, returning to his work and disregarding the man who clung to his body, wrapping him in soothing heat. "That bad, huh?"

Worse, the Uchiha thought bitterly, though the resentment that began to bubble in his heart was dismissed by the rather loud opening of the front door.

"Tadaima!" Sasuke's voice chimed from the hall, the melodious sound serving as an instant antidote for the dreariness that plagued the elder brother's conscience.

"You are pushing the boundaries of tardiness, otouto," Itachi scolded warmly, thumping the boy's brow. "Have a quick bath before dinner, you're filthy."

Minato smiled kindly at the dark-eyed child's insistent pout, but confusion soon slithered over his features, concern clouding his cerulean gaze. "Sasuke-kun, where is Naruto? I thought you were both training with the Nara boy."

"We were, but he ran off on his own. I thought he came back first."

"Huh, I'll track him down," the Hokage mumbled blandly, settling into stillness for several moments before reopening his eyes, cloaked in sage chakra. Feeling blindly about for the overwhelming presence of the fox sealed within his son's body, the blond frowned deeply before fixing Itachi with a frantic stare. "I can't sense him anywhere. He's gone."

The plot thickens! And I really am sorry for the late update. If anyone was curious, I based Itachi's outburst off of the canon scene where his clansmen are accusing him of having a hand in Shisui's death and he reveals his Mangekyō. So I don't think it's that OOC.

Anyway, drop a review and it'll help me update faster next time!

Meadie out.