Rise

by wenwenwrites

Seven years after the Sandaime Hokage's assassination, a group of children are dragged into the war for the homes they barely remember. In which Kakashi is forced to the forefront of yet another war, Itachi is given to maudlin internal monologues, Shisui alternates between coping and dissociating, and Zabuza wonders why he couldn't have left the honor to the fucking samurai.

11. Chapter 11

Pack codename cheat sheet:

Team Suzaku (overall oldest):
Rei = 0 = Temari (oldest)
Ichi = 1 = Haku
Ni = 2 = Neji (N for Neji)
Team Byakko
Shi = 4 = Sasuke (means death)
Go = 5 = Sakura (like Gogo Tomago from Big Hero 6)
Roku = 6 = Naruto
Team Genbu
Shichi = 7 = Gaara (longest name, also shortest child)
Hachi = 8 = Sai (like that really loyal dog)
Kyuu = 9 = Hinata (biggest number, youngest child)

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Chapter 11: Itachi Really, Really, Positively Does Not Like Blood

Does anyone ask him what he likes though? No. No they don't.

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MISSION REPORT D-90

Operative Cat-15 and target AT2 achieved rendezvous with targets AT1, AT3, AT4, allied noncombatant ANHS and allied combatants ACHN and ACNS, who had begun cohabitation with identification: Sabaku no Gaara, jinchuuriki, and identification: Sabaku no Temari, heiress to the Sandaime Kazekage. Designated as allied combatants ACSG and ACST. Both are battle-tested and exhibit no aggression towards targets AT1, AT3, AT4; allied combatants ACHN and ACNS, or allied noncombatant ANHS.

ACSG and ACST reported pursuit from Sunagakure probable; however, all past aggressors were subdued with prejudice. Cat-15 recommends continued alliance for better protection of targets.

Status of all: insufficient nutrition, otherwise normal.

Course of action: proceed to and establish new base of operations. Evade all pursuers if possible. Evaluate and monitor current abilities of all targets and allies. Provide critique and techniques to improve as necessary, including: techniques for acquiring food covertly or in an uninhabited environment; concealment in urban and uninhabited environments; defensive and offensive maneuvers.

No contact with enemy combatants.

END REPORT

-Operative Cat-15

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Itachi reached up to touch his mask. His fingers came away sticky and red-stained and he heaved an inward sigh. He seemed to spend just as much time cleaning off the mask as he did sharpening his kunai or oiling his sword. He crouched and apologetically reached for the nearest downed shinobi's shirt. Hanabi-ha barely had the supplies for feeding its shinobi, let alone extravagences like cloth for cleaning blood off blades.

He stood and flipped the katana back up into its sheath. He surveyed the scene carefully. Clean white sand had turned grey and red, with bits of glass and charred wood scattered among the churned-up dunes. The treeline had been burned back twenty meters, and plumes of smoke still twined lazily into the sky. The beach was pitted with large craters, and an entire sandspit had been blown away entirely, its remains swallowed by the unrelenting waves. Twelve crumpled bodies lay haphazardly on the shore or half submerged in the water, as if a careless child had discarded his dolls on his bedroom floor. He glanced back down at the nearest. The ends of the man's Kiri hitai-ate stirred limply in the wind, half-soaked in the blood seeping steadily from the wound in his chest where Itachi had stabbed him not a minute earlier.

He turned his back on it all and walked back towards the open water. There was nothing left for him to do here.

The waves were ablaze with the setting sun when he slowed his sprint just outside the camp. He paused to sign the passcode at the sentry before continuing in. Shinobi in battered armor and clothing stained by mud and blood glanced up and back down quickly as he passed on noiseless feet. He knew what they said: what shinobi wore his mask even among his own comrades? In a war such as this, where men slept head to foot and shared the same razors to shave, who was he to hide even his name? But Itachi's name was a weapon and a weakness in itself, and so he ghosted through the camp silently. Nobody called out to him, and he acknowledged nobody.

The command tent sat in the center of the camp, a healthy ten meters apart from the next nearest structures; Itachi sensed six chakra sources inside. He flared his chakra gently and entered without preamble. Six faces looked up with varying degrees of annoyance, but at the head of the table, jounin-in-charge Haraguni Aimi straightened.

"Take a break," she ordered. "We'll finish this in ten."

Haraguni was a no-nonsense jounin who had worked her way up through the General Forces until her promotion to jounin, after which she had automatically been reclassified to Command Corps. For that, she had Itachi's respect. Though she was only nominally in charge while Itachi was here, this was her first major wartime command, but she was no stranger to overseeing strategic engagements. She clasped her hands behind her back as the rest of the jounin filed out.

"Sector 37-25-E is clear again," said Itachi as soon as the tent was empty. "Twelve total enemy combatants eliminated; prediction of one jounin, five chuunin, six genin. Status here?"

Haraguni nudged a trio of small markers, two light blue and one a darker blue, off the map on the table. It did little to dent the number of the hundreds of similar markers carefully scattered across the table in a rainbow of colors. "Stable," she said. "Our teams have pushed the front to the islands at 35-24-N, but unless the loyalists withdraw, we'll have to put in more troops to hold them down. I'm sending in Kitajima and Yamanoha's teams later tonight."

Itachi nodded once in acknowledgement. "You have this well in hand," he observed. "I am returning to headquarters in eight hours, and will bring your report. Have you anything else you wish to convey to Command?"

Haraguni tossed him the paper report and ran a hand through short-cropped hair. "Just that we're ready and awaiting orders," she said. "But if you run into the quartermaster, rip him a new one. The last food shipment was entirely beans. These shinobi can't fight on beans ."

"Noted," said Itachi. "I will notify you when I leave. Until then, I will be in my quarters."

"Copy that," acknowledged Haraguni, fatigue weighing down her shoulders. "Have a good rest, captain."

Itachi slipped back out of the tent, and the jounin squad leaders clustered too-casually near the entrance shot him glances ranging from curious to wary to hostile. Though he knew each of them by name and through observation, they had little to do with him directly. As far as they were concerned, Itachi was a hunter-nin from the Kiri Hanran independently stationed at the Hanabi-ha base. He tipped his head up as he passed them, padding towards the small shack erected at the corner of the camp.

His quarters, as they were, were small enough that they could use it as a coffin to bury him if he died unexpectedly in his sleep. The lowest side of the slanted ceiling just barely brushed the top of his head, and there was room enough for a bedroll, a small side table, his equipment, and little else.

He pressed the tip of his finger to the wall and ignited his alarm seals with a spark of chakra. Only then did he reach up to pry the mask off his face. He flipped it over. Dried blood marred its smooth red-and-white surface, caked in the grooves of the Kiri symbol.

He closed his eyes briefly and set the mask aside. That would be a problem for six-hours-later Itachi. He pulled the bulky armor over his head next, tossing it down next to the table. Weapons pouch, holster, and sandals followed. He lay back at last, letting his aching muscles relax, and covered his eyes with one arm. He slept the sleep of the wartime shinobi: immediately, lightly, and insufficiently.

When he woke, he spent an hour cleaning his armor, oiling his sword, and taking careful inventory of his supplies. When he finished, he put everything away methodically and strapped on his equipment. He pushed out the door into the night.

Even good shinobi feared the dark when he knew what lay waiting; it was wise of him to do so. Itachi did not let such a fear consume him, but held it gently in the corner of his mind. The moon sent shimmering ripples across the ocean as Itachi stepped out onto the waves.

Jounin Haraguni's forward base was located at a particularly precarious position in the overall war effort, having been once been attacked thrice in a single day and consistently as it pushed every closer to Kirigakure. However, one would generally be attacked fewer times travelling backwards to Command than if one were scouting forward.

His trip today was uneventful. About six hours in, he slipped aboard the stern of a merchant ship, unaffiliated with either side, and for a full hour ignored both the crew and the Kiri jounin who stared at him suspiciously from the bow. This war still had rules; civilian crafts were strictly off limits for battle or even benign contact. He finished off a ration bar in efficient bites, then folded the wrapper and shoved it back into his back pouch. He left the passing fare in an envelope in the captain's door and dropped back over the side of the ship. He sank into the water and swam until the ship was out of sight, then surfaced and ran the rest of the way to Uzushio.

Uzushio no Kuni, after Uzushiogakure had quite literally been blasted off the map by Kiri, held nothing more than sleepy fishing hamlets, rice plantations, farmland, and one and a half functioning ports. Out of respect for the spirits of the dead, the Hidden Village itself had been left unmolested and sat abandoned on the northern tip of the southern island. Naturally, as shinobi were equally superstitious but far less fearful than civilians, this is where the Kiri Hanran chose to make its headquarters.

Itachi's instincts flared to life, and he twisted out of the way as the water erupted next to him. He landed in a crouch, one hand on the hilt of his katana.

"Stop. No further," demanded the insurgent, rising out of the water. He wore a rebreather over his nose and mouth that distorted his words, and his hair was done up in a bun. A sheathed katana rested at his waist. "Identify yourself."

"Hana-An-141, captain," Itachi replied, letting his hand drop slowly. "And you?"

The insurgent glared, wariness in the set of his shoulders. "Hana-An, my ass," he muttered under his breath. "Hanran-Gun-419, chuunin." Hanran - from the Kiri insurgency; Gun - from Guntai, a member of the General Forces.

"Reporting in to Command from 30-20 Forward Base 025," said Itachi. "Passcode 4-7-Nexus-8-9-9-Raven-Quota-Raven." He stepped forward, but the other shinobi drew his blade in a flash of steel, and Itachi lunged backwards, landing just out of reach. He narrowed his eyes.

"I'm going to need to confirm that," Hanran-Gun-419 said coldly, leveling the tip of the blade at Itachi. "Wait here. Don't move." He signalled with his free hand, and a seagull swooped out of the air far over his head and winged back towards land.

Itachi slowly moved his hand back and straightened from his ready crouch, keeping his attention on the insurgent. The sun sparked against the water, boring into his eyes, though he could not and would not close them. Though he would not let his posture show the how the day's long travel wore on him after days of non-stop combat, he very sincerely wanted to be horizontal for four hours, if not twelve.

Eventually, he sensed a burst of chakra, and the broad figure of Senzaki Ao, designation Hanran-An-046, commander in the Kiri Hanran, stepped out of a shunshin behind Hanran-Gun-419. "What's the situation?" he said without preamble.

Hanran-Gun-419 stiffened. "Commander," he greeted without taking his eyes off Itachi. "Just a routine identity check, sir."

Itachi waited patiently as the veins around Ao's covered eye briefly bunched with a surge of chakra, then relaxed. "Come with me, captain," the older man said brusquely, turning abruptly in a swirl of his haori. "As you were, chuunin."

"Apologies for the inconvenience," said Itachi as he fell in step with Ao back towards the island. "I did not expect you would be requested for something so trivial."

Ao gave him a critical once-over with his exposed eye. "You're wanted in a briefing," he said gruffly.

Itachi held back a grimace. Any briefing with the Kiri Hanran involved Terumi Mei making overtures at either him or Kakashi-taichou or both, Hanran shinobi glaring from just outside the room, and severe tests on his patience. "Very well," he said, and pragmatically let go of his longing for his bunk.

The Kiri Hanran headquarters sprawled out on top of the ruins of Uzushiogakure in a mishmash of makeshift wooden structures and tents. Shinobi in various states of preparedness, from fully armed and armored to simple Kiri chuunin-jounin greys and the bare minimum kunai holster, stared openly or subtly as they made their way to the command center. Salvaged from the sprawling Academy complex, the command center stood as a tragic and ominous reminder of the village that once had been. Wooden boards were nailed over gaping holes open to the rooms below, and the holes in most of the doors were papered over.

In the center of the complex, the teachers' office has been fortified and converted into main control room. As Itachi padded after Ao, he felt the gazes of dozens of shinobi boring into his back - guards lounged in nearby rooms and perched in the rafters, and to the one glared at Itachi with suspicious eyes.

"Captain Hana-An-141 is here," Ao announced drolly, pushing open the door. Itachi followed him in.

"Captain," Terumi Mei purred, lifting her head slowly from the mess of maps and reports on the mass of tables pushed together in the center of the room and regarding him beneath her eyelashes. She snapped her fingers dismissively at her less-than-impressed Hanran captains ringing the room. "Give us a minute boys, ladies," she ordered, and her shinobi slipped out without complaint. Ao closed the door behind the last and leaned against it, arms crossed over his chest.

Itachi touched his fingers to his mask in a silent salute when Kakashi-taichou looked up at him, and the other man nodded back once in acknowledgement. His hands were shoved casually in his pockets as he leaned back against an errant desk, keeping the entirety of the table's contents in his field of vision. "It's been a while since your last check-in, captain," Kakashi-taichou noted, returning his attention to the map.

"Hai," said Itachi simply. His report was not for their allies' ears. Kakashi-taichou nodded almost absently.

Across the room, Fukaya Maiko, designation Hanran-An-593, Mei's third-in-command, tilted her chin up challengingly. "How goes the north, captain?"

"It holds," Itachi said politely. "And the east, commander?"

Fukaya narrowed her eyes at him, but deigned to answer. "The Mizukage holds the east close to his chest," she said begrudgingly.

Itachi nodded, unsurprised. In a war where neither side possessed the shinobi necessary to patrol captured territory, Itachi's north front was prone to guerilla raids by either side, while the eastern front saw the brunt of the pitched battles.

Mei hummed. "Come, now, surely we needn't be so formal," she said. "It's only us, and I've even sent my captains out. I would love to see my allies face to face."

Kakashi-taichou ducked his head to peel his mask off, hooking it to his belt. He flicked a glance at Itachi, and only then did he follow suit. "I'd like to bring my captain up to speed," he said.

Mei flicked a dismissive hand. "Go ahead," she said. "Ao, come here."

"We're moving headquarters," Kakashi-taichou said without preamble as the Hanran shinobi clustered on the opposite side of the room. "Kiri Hanran and Hanabi-Ha both."

Itachi absorbed this silently. "Uzushio no Kuni is far from the frontlines," he said, both a statement and question in one.

"Aa," said Kakashi-taichou. "We've gained ground. We're too far away not to make effective battle decisions or respond to crises, and keeping our leadership away from the fighting takes some of our strongest shinobi off the board."

Itachi tilted his head in a silent question, and Kakashi-taichou shook his. Not the right time or place. "Very well," said Itachi. "Am I being reassigned?"

"Yes," replied Kakashi-taichou, eye crossing back over to the map. "Your partner as well."

"Ooh," said Mei brightly, giving up the pretense of not eavesdropping. "Will we finally meet this mysterious partner of yours at last? How is he? Or she?"

"My partner and I have been working separate missions," Itachi deflected blandly.

"Hana-An-031, wasn't it?" Mei mused, tapping delicate fingers against her lips. "Mmm. I'm sure our paths will cross soon enough." She clapped her hands together. "Now: the two of you are the official Hanabi-ha representatives for coordinating this strategic relocation, correct?"

"Aa," agreed Kakashi-taichou. "We're here with the confidence of Commander Nara and Tsunade-hime."

"Good, good," said Mei thoughtfully, after a just too-long hesitation. "Quite busy, are they?"

"Hm," said Kakashi-taichou noncommittally. "Commander Nara is triaging the most urgent intelligence reports, and Tsunade-hime is in the hospital today. A pair of chuunin got a little too friendly with some shark summons."

"A pity," Mei said. "Ao?"

"Moving our men and equipment will be a challenge," the older shinobi said grimly. "We'd like to propose a clear split in responsibilities between Kiri Hanran and Hanabi-ha to make the move more efficient."

Four hours passed in the preliminary planning session before Kakashi-taichou politely but firmly excused himself and Itachi out with the pretense of reporting to Tsunade-sama. Kakashi-taichou eyed him carefully as they wove their way back out of the Hanran command center. "When's the last time you ate?"

"Twelve hours ago," replied Itachi without hesitation.

Wordlessly, Kakashi-taichou steered them towards the mess tent. "Eat first. Debrief later."

Itachi lowered his voice to a register only the other shinobi's sensitive ears would hear. "Tsunade-sama?"

Kakashi-taichou shook his head. "In the hospital," he murmured. "But Shizune's doing the rounds today."

Ah.

As nominal second-in-command of Hanabi-ha, a title he shared with Nara Shikaku, Kakashi-taichou had been issued his own quarters in a dilapidated apartment complex that housed other former members of the Konoha Command Corps, the Shirei-bu. They took their meals from the mess tent to his apartment's living room. A flash of chakra lit the perimeter seals, and Itachi took his mask off, mirroring Kakashi-taichou.

"I know it's been a while since you took a break," Kakashi-taichou said, breaking the silence as they settled around his low table. "I wanted to tell you something before you hear it in the official briefing."

Itachi paused, rice halfway to his mouth.

"We're recalling Shisui," said Kakashi-taichou. "We're bringing in the kids. The war's reaching critical mass; we're closing in on Kirigakure, and all combat-ready shinobi are heading to the front."

Itachi set his rice down. "The plan was to keep them away from the war," he said mildly, even as the first waves of anger and panic sent fire spiking through his veins.

In response, Kakashi-taichou reached behind him and pulled a stack of paper from under the half-rotted couch. Itachi spared a moment to give the piece of furniture a wary glance before the other shinobi slapped one of the papers down on the table.

Itachi leaned over it and stopped breathing.

'Yorozuku,' the poster read. 'Organization of 6-12 individuals wanted for espionage, robbery, and other criminal activity.' Below the words was a crude ink drawing, but Itachi recognized the bone-masks San had carved for each of the children, the 'pack,' and the furred cloaks Shisui had bought when they found the children for the first time. Kakashi-taichou set down another, then another, all with slightly different words and illustrations but the same meaning: even with the Konoha-Kumo war, even with Danzo's attention diverted, Itachi's brother was no longer safe in Kitakyushu. The last few were not Yorozuku posters, but of a rogue Anbu. Itachi grimaced. "There is no need to bring them to the war," he argued. "There is always Tetsu."

Kakashi-taichou shook his head. "Staying half a year in samurai territory was risky enough," he said. "And San is not part of this war, but the kids are. They're genin now. They've infiltrated and evaded capture in a Konoha-held city; they're not helpless."

"They are still children," said Itachi, very carefully not balling his free hand into a fist. "Surely nine children will not affect the war overmuch."

"Maybe not," said Kakashi-taichou, his one dark eye fixed on Itachi. "But nine children - including one former Anbu trainee, one former hunter-nin, and two jinchuuriki - and Shunshin no Shisui will."

Itachi stared at his food and examined Kakashi-taichou from his peripheral for a long moment. "You did not want to bring Shisui back before," he noted.

The captain did not move, but he suddenly seemed far more tired than the steely-eyed commander he had been in Mei's command center. "We'll ease him in slowly. This war is not something I can protect him from any longer," he admitted quietly. "Tsunade-hime can't justify his missions any longer without revealing why she's keeping a top jounin and nine genin on the mainland, not when his primary mission hasn't yielded results." He took a swig of his water like it was something stronger. "And he's still a good shinobi. That hasn't changed."

No, but Shisui had.

"He will not be happy," Itachi warned. More than anyone else on their team, Shisui had wanted to keep the children away from the shinobi life for as long as possible, and doubly so for a war such as this.

"We're taking full precautions to keep all of their identities secret," assured Kakashi. "Shisui included. The masks San carved for the kids? That'll hide their faces from even Ao's Byakugan."

Itachi narrowed his eyes. "How?"

"Well," said Kakashi-taichou. "San is a witch."

Itachi stared at him blankly.

"Maa," Kakashi-taichou amended. "Some sort of priestess, probably. And she carved the same sort of privacy runes into the masks that she uses to keep her forest safe. Apparently her mother taught them to her."

"Her mother," Itachi repeated. "The...wolf goddess?"

"Yes," said Kakashi-taichou, equally nonplussed. "The runes have a blurring effect on the wearer, so no one can tell who they are as long as they keep those masks on. Pretty much like the standard Anbu masks. "

Itachi bleakly wondered how Naruto could be convinced to keep a mask on for more than two hours. "And Shisui? He has met Ao in battle before. He will recognize Shisui's chakra."

Kakashi-taichou grimaced. "I called in a favor," he said, and reached under the couch again. This time he produced a porcelain Anbu mask, like his own, but smooth and clean, painted with a smattering of feline grey-black spots. When he flipped it over, seals inked and carved spiderwebbed from the center.

There was only two men alive with enough knowledge in sealwork to completely disguise a shinobi's chakra. "What did this cost you?" Itachi asked at last.

Kakashi-taichou stared at the mask grimly before tossing it over to Itachi, who caught it automatically. "Too much," he said. "Let him know that if he breaks it, he owes me his firstborn. Your next mission is to take that - and his next set of orders - to him in Kitakyushu. Think of it as a vacation."

"Understood," said Itachi, tucking it away in his pack. He straightened his back slightly; it screamed in protest at his continued ramrod-straight position.

Kakashi-taichou eyed him knowingly. "The next briefing is not one you are required to attend, but I expect you in the briefing center at 1800 hours," he said. "Get some rest, Itachi."

"Hai," said Itachi, letting himself slump just a little.

"Your old quarters were reassigned," Kakashi-taichou informed him. "You're welcome to sleep here, though." He patted the couch. A chunk of rotted stuffing came away in his hand.

"Thank you for the offer, Taichou," said Itachi, giving the couch a wary glance. "I will sleep on the floor."

Kakashi-taichou's visible eye crinkled. "Nonsense," he said, casually tossing the stuffing off to the side of the couch. "What sort of host would I be if I let a guest sleep on the floor?"

Itachi blinked once, slowly, and followed the only viable course of action: he ignored him.

Itachi was glad to leave the Kiri Hanran-Hanabi-ha headquarters and its stifling animosity behind. The red-orange rays of the sun skipped over the waves as he set off, and by the time he reached the coast of the mainland, twenty kilometers north of Kitakyushu, the sun was rising at his back.

He picked his through the shadows where the sand turned into cliffs, towering high above the beach, hyper-aware of his bone-white armor and porcelain mask, but he sensed no one of significant chakra prowess, and the few on the beaches - fishermen, an elderly couple on a morning stroll - did not notice him as he ghosted behind them.

Itachi turned into the tunnels that would lead to the abandoned mine designated as Outpost 013 and came face to face with a battered Anbu cat-mask.

"Cousin," Shisui greeted.

"How is the cat-herding?" Itachi asked politely.

"Please," scoffed Shisui, rolling his eye. "You and I both know herding cats is much easier than keeping these brats in line. Come in. What are you doing here in person? Don't think I haven't noticed Kombu flying in and out of here," he warned.

Itachi shrugged one shoulder. "I could hardly sneak away from the frontlines to visit Sasuke myself," he defended.

"It's not like Kombu talks," said Shisui. "How's he even supposed to know that big-ass bird is from you? You've never pulled him out in front of Sasuke-kun. I haven't summoned a single crow myself."

"He knows," Itachi said simply.

Shisui shrugged and then glanced at Itachi suspiciously. "Really, what are you doing here? Gods know Hatake-taichou'd never send you on a milk run courier mission."

Itachi hesitated, and Shisui came to a full stop to face him, his exposed eye searching Itachi's face. "Taichou had a message for you," Itachi said at last. "He thought it best it came from me."

Shisui's shoulders slumped, and Itachi regretted the bitter understanding he saw in his cousin's gaze. "Hit me," Shisui said tiredly.

Itachi stared at him blankly and punched him in the shoulder. It was not a light blow.

"Ow!" Shisui yowled, rearing back. "You little shit! Who gave you permission to have a sense of humor?"

"Perhaps I have had too many katon sent my way while being told to 'lighten up,'" Itachi suggested.

"It's my sworn duty as your older cousin to prepare you for the realities of the world," Shisui sniffed. "And it is yours to respect your elders." He waved his hand at Itachi. "Come on, what's the message?"

Itachi heaved an inward sigh. "Operatives Hana-An-010 and Hana-Shi-000, -001, -002, -004, -005, -006, -007, -008, and -009 are to establish Forward Base 25-35W and await further instruction."

Shisui absorbed the information silently. "That sounds pretty close to the front," he said at last.

"It is the front," said Itachi mercilessly.

Shisui closed his eye and sighed, scrubbing one hand through his hair. "I understand," he said. "Captain."

Itachi instantly frowned, but Shisui held a hand up, forestalling him.

"Don't," he said quietly. "Orders I can take, but not from you. Not from my cousin." Itachi stayed silent for a long moment, and Shisui grimaced. "Sorry," he said wryly. "That's not fair to you. I know how you feel about this."

Itachi tilted his head in acknowledgement. He would not begrudge Shisui this sentiment. "You're being reclassified to take a forward command," he added.

"Yeah, I know, jounin-in-charge," said Shisui.

"Ah," Itachi said dryly. "It appears I have been remiss in conveying the message accurately. 'Operatives Hana-An-010 and Hana-Shi-000, -001, -002, -004, -005, -006, -007, -008, and -009 are to establish Forward Base 25-35W, whereupon Operative Hana-An-010 is to assume the title and rank of captain and await further instruction.'"

Shisui shoved him, sending him stumbling forward a step. "You ass ," he complained.

The corner of Itachi's mouth lifted in a victorious smirk. "Kakashi-taichou would never send me on a milk run courier mission," he reminded.

"I don't want a damned promotion," scowled Shisui.

"That is likely why Kakashi-taichou sent me to tell you," Itachi said reasonably. He slid the mask and scroll with Shisui's orders out of his back pouch and passed them both over to his cousin. "A shinobi employs any tool necessary, up to and including your goodwill towards your favorite cousin."

"You better watch your back," Shisui muttered. "I'm about to demote you to second favorite. Sasuke-kun hasn't set anything on fire for ten whole days." He opened the scroll first. "You know," he said, skimming its contents, "When she was scraping me back together, Tsunade-sama said she would never put me back in the field without consulting me first."

"You are already in the field," Itachi pointed out. "There are wanted posters of you that prove so. But in this case, I believe she may have simply signed a scroll Kakashi-taichou put in front of her."

"That bastard," Shisui grumbled without much heat. He flipped the mask up for a better look. "I take it this is for protection against an old friend?"

"Aa," said Itachi. "Kakashi-taichou would like me to convey to you that should this be damaged, he will marry your heir."

Shisui shuddered. "Good gods," he muttered. "He really sold his soul for this thing." He hooked the mask onto his belt. "All right, come on back to the mess," he said. "The kids'll get curious if I'm gone too long, and Neji-kun can read lips through the back of peoples' skulls now, the little terror."

The tunnels were nearly pitch black, but Itachi followed Shisui as he wound unerringly through the corridors until a faint flicker of light appeared ahead. Damp air turned a little fresher, cutting through the murkiness of the caves.

"Look alive, everyone, we have a visitor," Shisui announced, pushing his way through a rough-hewn wooden door. Itachi padded in after him and found himself in a relatively large, low-ceilinged room with a makeshift kitchen ensemble on one side - a large ice box, several large tables clustered in an approximation of counters, and crates of food or portable stoves - and a pair of long tables ringed by benches on the other side. At the tables, nine pairs of eyes moved between Shisui and Itachi, eight unimpressed and one eager. Itachi swallowed a fond smile.

"You can cut the act, Sensei, we know who that is," said Temari, propping her chin in one hand. Naruto and Hinata nodded agreement - the former empathetically, the later timidly.

Shisui threw up his hands in disgust and flipped up his mask. "Whatever, you brats," he growled. "Naruto, go get Itachi-sensei some food. Itachi, sit."

Naruto swung his legs over the bench and trotted off towards the pot steaming gently on the far counter, and Itachi slid neatly into his vacated seat and tucked his mask back onto his belt. "Otouto," he said serenely.

Sasuke's head jerked like he'd wanted to duck his head but stopped himself at the last second. "Hi, Aniki," he said shyly.

"I trust your training and missions have been going well?" Itachi prompted.

"We have successfully completed several missions," answered Sai from across the table. Beside him, Hinata shrank into her seat, face turning bright red, and Gaara narrowed his eyes slightly. "Last night - " He cut himself off as Temari jabbed an unsubtle elbow into his side. "Oh. I see," he said. "Disregard that."

"No matter," said Itachi, even as he felt rather than saw Sasuke bristling next to him. His baby brother was rather cute when he was territorial. "I am glad to hear you are doing well. He tilted his head back towards Sasuke. "I hope Kombu reached you well."

Sasuke's brow crinkled. "Kombu - oh! Yes, he did," he corrected himself, a faint dusting of red across his cheeks.

"Here's your food, Itachi-sensei!" Naruto interrupted cheerfully, plopping down a bowl and chopsticks in front of Itachi. He hopped over the bench to sit on Itachi's other side. "You're lucky, 'cause Haku made this, and if you came tomorrow you'd've had to eat Sakura-chan's slop - "

"Hey!" Sakura snapped, lunging to her feet and slamming her fists on the table. "You're one to talk!"

Haku reflexively covered his mouth to hide a tiny smile. Neji wrinkled his nose as the soup slopped over the side of his bowl. His Byakugan was active, and distracted as he was, he made no great protest.

"We can just say that Sasuke is the best cook in Team Byakko," Temari cut in with a warning glare at Naruto before the fight could escalate. Sakura sat back down.

"I look forward to trying his meals," said Itachi genuinely, and Sasuke ducked his head bashfully.

"Will you be staying at the base for a while, Itachi-sensei?" inquired Sai.

Itachi paused, setting down his chopsticks. Across the table, Shisui glanced up, eye whirling red, and caught him up in a genjutsu.

"No mission talk over breakfast," his cousin warned, words reaching Itachi alone through the illusion. "There's time to break the news later, in the briefing room."

"Hn," said Itachi noncommittally as Neji's eyes flickered between him and Shisui. "I will not be here long."

"So, whatcha talkin' about?" Naruto piped up. "Neji's doing the thing, so he sees Shisui-sensei using chakra and also his eye's red so he's doing that thing where he makes you see things nobody else can see cuz Shisui-sensei says you can't jump into a genjutsu if the person making it doesn't make you see it."

"They're called Byakugan and Sharingan," Neji muttered under his breath.

"LastnightNarutoandSasukeaccidentallykissed," Shisui said in a rush, projecting a split-second snapshot of the memory with mischief glinting in his eye before he broke the genjutsu.

"Shisui has a fondness for telling stories at inopportune moments," Itachi said blankly. "He detailed an incident last night in which you defiled my younger brother."

Haku choked on his rice and coughed as Sakura outright cackled. Sasuke turned bright red and froze stiff.

"I did not!" Naruto yowled. "That bastard wasn't watching where he was going!"

"We were sparring!" Sasuke snapped. "You were the one who tripped into my face. "

"You didn't dodge!" Naruto retorted, the tips of his ears blushing crimson.

"Masks up," Neji interrupted suddenly. "Team Morita inbound."

A general shuffle ensued as the children all reached for their bone wolf masks with well-rehearsed motions, Sasuke with perhaps more haste than strictly necessary. Shisui pulled his down from the top of his head, and Itachi followed suit.

"Bowls are on the counter, Morita," Shisui called as the man stepped through the doorway.

"Thanks - " Morita jerked to a halt when he caught sight of Itachi sitting in the midst of the masked, cloaked children. His team peered around him and immediately straightened.

"This is Hana-An-141, captain," Shisui introduced. "He'll be here for a couple of days."

The one-eared kunoichi - Akikio - behind Morita hissed something in his ear and he snapped to attention. "Captain!" he stammered. "Sir - what are you - I mean - "

"At ease," said Itachi. "This is not a briefing."

"Uh, yes, sir," said Morita, and reluctantly edged into the room when Akiko prodded him insistently in the back.

"Welcome to the back alley of the war, captain," said Nobu gruffly, pushing past Morita impatiently. "Nothing here but rubbish and a rat infestation. We getting moved or something, sir?" Behind him, Morita swallowed visibly.

"No," Itachi said honestly. He remembered the report on Morita's team and the brutalization of its members in the name of interrogation. It would be another month yet before Command sent for them to return to active combat, if they could be spared for so long.

"Team Genbu, up and at 'em," said Shisui, and Gaara, Hinata, and Sai stood obediently, clearing space for the new team to sit down. "Routine intel mission," he explained to Itachi. "Care to join them?"

Itachi had been running all night, but he did wish to know how his students fared. "I believe I will," he said, and very carefully did not react to Sasuke's slightly disappointed slump beside him. "If it will not jeopardize your mission, Operative Hachi?"

"No, captain," said Sai. "Kyuu will be aboveground, but you are welcome to accompany Shichi in active surveillance or myself in the onsite control center."

Itachi soon discovered that the 'onsite control center' was in fact an abandoned grocery store, from which Sai sent ink creatures scuttling in every direction, and 'active surveillance' involved mirroring Hinata's movements from underground, in the sewer. He followed Gaara as the boy wandered through the maze of tunnels, eyes half-lidded as he chose turns seemingly at random. Itachi sent out his chakra-sense, but he could not differentiate Hinata's from the faint press of thousands above them. "How are you following her?" he asked, breaking the silence for the first time since he and Gaara had left the rest of the team.

Gaara blinked, as if confused, and peered at him out of the corner of one black-rimmed eye. "Our - my sand," he said. "There is some in her pockets. It calls to me."

Itachi filed the fumble away for later consideration. "That is clever," he offered. Gaara shot him a somewhat alarmed glance but otherwise did not acknowledge his comment. "What is your purpose in following Kyuu?"

"Get her out alive if she is injured or captured," the jinchuuriki answered after a pause.

"Would Hachi not be better suited for an extraction?" Itachi prodded carefully.

Another long pause. Gaara shook his head slightly, a tiny jerk in response to something Itachi could not hear. "He uses too much chakra. For his scouts. He needs to save it to report back. I get her out."

"Hm," said Itachi thoughtfully. It seemed to be a functional system, though likely not one that had needed to be tested. Hinata's preparations had been thorough, from contacts to clothing to a complete personality transplant. Her alias 'Moe' was unlikely to be ruled suspicious by the Konoha shinobi that swarmed the city, as Nobu had worded it, like a rat infestation, because 'Moe' herself did not think herself suspicious. And it seemed Danzou's men were far too preoccupied with the war effort to be bothered with policing the city, considering the lackluster response to even a rogue Anbu in Kitakyushu.

The pair lapsed into silence once again. Itachi observed Gaara even as they turned down a slime-encrusted corridor. He held himself with a strange self-assurance, at odds with the barely-hidden agitation of his chakra shifting and roiling beneath his skin. He was not so feral as the defensive creature he had been when Taichou had corralled him back with the other children that first night in Tsuchi, whose very chakra had growled as he hunched back against his sister in the dark of the forest. His behavior had been exactly while jinchuuriki were commonly chosen from the kage's family, though clearly nobody had thought to account for Temari.

Gaara had grown, since the three seasons since their first meeting. He was comfortable here, in Kitakyushu, with his role as silent, unseen protector, comfortable with his team and not just with Temari. Itachi was proud of that, and sincerely regretted that he would upend that.

A small black shadow swooped over their heads. Gaara paused and regarded it thoughtfully. A tendril of sand slithered from his pack into his hand, and when he offered it to the ink-bird, it was small and round and solid. "Hachi wants something tracked," he explained briefly, watching the bird wing away. "He will drop the sand there for me to follow."

"Hm," Itachi responded, and Gaara sent him an unfathomable look out of the corner of his eye before continuing down the pipeline.

Itachi considered Gaara's retreating back. Dissatisfaction, irritability, desire. He was missing something here, something not mission-related. Sasuke had always been an easy child for him to read but Gaara particularly difficult with the Ichibi factored in. Sasuke's woes were easily enough assuaged with the offer of training. Perhaps that was applicable here as well?

"It has been three months since I last saw your team spar," he said. "I look forward to seeing how your skills have grown." No reaction but for a slight relaxing of the shoulders. Itachi decided to count that as a positive response. Shinobi children perhaps were not so different across the board.

One debriefing and one briefing later, Itachi stood with Shisui outside the briefing room as inside, nine shinobi children exploded into chaos over the prospect of going to war. Itachi had been awake for over thirty hours, and given that the briefing room was not in fact soundproof, the noise was beginning to hammer distractingly at the inside of his skull. Shisui glanced over at him wryly. "Let's find you somewhere to crash," he said. "I think you've caused enough of an uproar for today, hm?"

"I did no such thing," Itachi protested. The words sounded very far away.

"'You have all been ordered to position 25-35, west of Kirigakure, effective immediately. Please have all equipment ready to move by 0800 tomorrow,'" Shisui quoted sardonically. "And then you walked out when they started yelling."

In retrospect, Itachi perhaps could have worded that differently, but he was quite tired and no longer in an active combat zone.

Shisui slung an arm over his shoulder, carefully projecting the movement. "Come on," he said. "Let's find you a bunk. We don't really have a spare room in the north wing - that's where the pack and I crash - but there's an empty room in the south wing where Morita's team is - "

"No," Itachi interrupted. "Your room is fine."

Shisui stopped. "Sure," he said affectionately. "My room it is."

Shisui's room boasted only slightly slimy walls and one wooden deck spanning half the floor area, on which he kept both his equipment and his bedroll. Itachi took half a second to appreciate this before he let his mind short-circuit. He dropped his equipment next to Shisui's, shucked his sandals, and tugged the blanket over himself.

"Okay," Shisui said above him, amused. "Steal my blankets, no problem."

Itachi closed his eyes, deliberately ignoring him. After a moment, the deck shifted as Shisui climbed up as well, settling down with his back against Itachi's. "Sleep well, cousin," he murmured, his voice reverberating through Itachi's own chest. "I've got your back."

Itachi would have punched him again, but he was already mostly asleep.

When he awoke, he felt relaxed, which instantly put him on edge. He gently shifted Shisui's arm off his chest and sat up. The one other dorming room in the north side of the base, down the rough-hewn tunnel about three meters, rattled with the sound of shinobi children packing their clothes and equipment with what sounded like varying shades of panic. Comparatively, as Shisui never kept anything unpacked that he couldn't leave behind and Itachi hadn't needed to take anything out the night before, Itachi felt no great compulsion to do anything other than sit and savor the calm.

Behind him, Shisui shifted and sat up. "Hey," he murmured, scruffing a hand through his hair.

Itachi glanced over. His cousin was not wearing the bandages he'd taken to swathing his face with, and both eyelids slit open to reveal one grey-black eye and a hint of the glass that had replaced the missing one. "It is morning," Itachi noted.

"Yep." Shisui patted him on the head absentmindedly. "That's why they call you genius. Want some breakfast?"

Itachi paused, remembering Naruto's attempt at dinner the night before. "Who's cooking?" he asked cautiously.

Shisui huffed a laugh. "No need to worry. I am."

"Oh gods," Itachi said dryly, and sidestepped his cousin's jab.

Despite his needling, Shisui, given his seven-to-ten year advantage over the children, was a better cook than most of the pack. Itachi leaned against the counter and occasionally passed him a bowl or knife, but mostly just watched as he filleted a handful of fish, sliced a bundle of scallions, and julientined gobu root. He moved with an ease Itachi recognized from the battlefield, his shoulders loose and relaxed as he swept a rack of fish over the open flame. Shisui may have been bred for battle, but in another life, peace would have suited him well.

Temari shuffled into the kitchen first, hair tied up hastily and eyes half closed. "Morning, Itachi-sensei, Shisui-sensei," she said, and wandered over the benches to slouch over the table.

"Morning, Temari-chan," greeted Shisui cheerfully, scooping rice into a bowl. "Who's on watch?"

"Gaara," she yawned, resting her head on crossed arms.

Haku drifted in next, every stitch of clothing perfectly in place. "Good morning, Shisui-san," he said. "Good morning, Itachi-san." Itachi cracked an egg over the first bowl of rice and nodded back at him. "Do you need any help?"

"No, but thanks, Haku-kun," Shisui called over his shoulder. "Are you all packed?"

"Aa." Haku drew closer to the counter. "I believe everyone except Naruto and Sakura are finished. Sasuke is spectating, Hinata is attempting to help, and Sai and Neji are silently judging their efforts."

"Hm," said Shisui, transferring the fish to a platter. "That does sound about right."

Haku reached over for the finished rice-egg bowls. "Yesterday, at the briefing," he began hesitantly. "You said we were going to the front lines, Itachi-san."

"Yes," Itachi agreed implacably, even as Shisui hesitated for just a split second. "The war will be approaching Kirigakure itself very soon, and all active forces are being called to the front."

"Will we see Zabuza-san?" asked Haku a little too casually to not sound hopeful.

"Yes," said Itachi, and Haku tilted his head down to hide a smile. "I believe we will."

The beginnings of conversation were lost as the rest of the pack and the low-grade chaos Naruto trailed behind him like a cloak spilled into the kitchen, and Itachi turned back to his self appointed task of cracking eggs into rice. Gaara drifted in as Sai and Sakura carried the rest of the food to the table, and Itachi handed him the last bowl of rice.

"Status on Morita's team?" asked Shisui as he slid down next to Itachi.

"Late night training session. They are all still sleeping," Neji reported, letting his Byakugan fade.

"No mask meal! No mask meal!" Naruto chanted, stabbing for the fish with his chopsticks. Sakura elbowed him neatly in the ribs and stole the fish when he flinched.

Shisui rolled his eye fondly. Naruto would never be, as they said, a typical shinobi.

"How will we reach position 25-35?" asked Sai, passing the platter of gobu to Haku. "Logically, we cannot run the entire way, as Naruto would surely drown - "

"Hey!" Naruto interjected indignantly.

" - but stealing a ship from a Konoha port while Konoha is at war with Kumo is highly risky."

"We could disguise ourselves as Konoha shinobi," Sakura suggested, a mad glint in her eye.

"Pirate attacks are not uncommon," Neji contributed.

"Whoa, whoa." Shisui frowned, holding up one hand bemusedly. "Nobody's stealing a ship. We're just going to board one like regular passengers."

Nine pairs of eyes swung from Shisui to Itachi dubiously. "Really?" asked Sasuke.

"Yes," said Itachi.

Shisui rolled his eye. "You can't just trust Shisui-sensei, who's pulled your collective asses out of too many fires to count?"

"Sorry, sensei," Temari said, not the least bit repentant.

"Aren't you not supposed to say that word?" Naruto piped up.

"It is uncough," agreed Neji, wrinkling his nose.

"No, F-I-R-E," Sakura corrected. "Because of what happened last time with Sasuke and the sausage cart. Shisui-sensei thinks it'll give him more ideas."

"That was an accident," Sasuke scowled, slinking down in his seat a little.

Itachi had a feeling that was a story he would like to hear at greater length at a later time. "We will all disguise ourselves as regular civilians, and board the Okamaru, bound for islands off the south coast of Uzushio no Kuni," he said instead. "A hundred kilometers away from the destination, we will disembark and make out way on foot." He paused. "Yes?" he said to Sakura's hesitantly raised hand.

"Can we fly?" she asked hopefully. "Temari has her fan and Sai made this really giant bird one time."

Itachi glanced at Shisui, who nodded longsufferingly. There was another story not yet told there. "If San and Temari can spare the chakra, we may fly for a short distance after disembarking the ship," he allowed.

"Yes!" Naruto hissed gleefully, and even Hinata perked up. Itachi briefly wondered if he had made a grave mistake.

"I should not have to remind you how dangerous this will be," Itachi said quietly. "But I will do so anyways." The table grew abruptly silent as hands stilled on chopsticks. "You are entering real war - an active warzone," he said. "Everyone you meet out there will actively strive to kill you or subject you to an even worse fate. Here, in Kitakyushu, you have had the luxury of a distracted enemy and unaware targets, but in the battles for Kiri, you will have neither." He met each of their eyes, reading the fear and defiance and determination and resolve in each if them. "Trust each other, and trust your sensei," he finished. "There is no one who would rather see you survive this than we."

"Don't worry about us, sensei," Naruto chirped. "We'll kick their butts!"

"We have trained for this," agreed Neji.

"W-we're ready," Hinata added, raising her eyes to Itachi's.

"We'll make you proud," said Temari with fierce conviction.

"Senseeei!" Naruto whined, and Itachi wondered if he couldn't simply disappear over the side of the ship and leave Shisui to herd the children. He must have gotten quite good at it with three months' worth under his belt.

"Yes?" he asked patiently, keeping his eyes on the far horizon.

Naruto squinted at him suspiciously from over the bandages swathing his lower face. His sun-bright hair had been dyed a deep red-brown, and he had attempted to wear colored contacts, only to poke his eyeball too many times by mistake, and had so given up. His eye was still red and puffy. "Are we there yet?"

Itachi could just genjutsu him into silence, and no one would be the wiser. "No," he said with remarkable patience. Then, struck by sudden genius, "Why don't you ask the other sensei what we will be having for lunch?"

Naruto perked up. "Ooh," he said, and pattered off to the opposite side of the ship. Itachi watched him go remorselessly before turning back to the vast sea.

After a moment, a more unobtrusive presence replaced him. Itachi allowed himself a small smile as Sasuke leaned against the rail beside him. "I didn't know you had crows," his brother said gruffly, conscious of the prying ears aboard the ship. His voice was still too high for Itachi to take him seriously.

"My cousin kept them," Itachi said. "After he died, he left them to me." Except he didn't die, or he didn't stay dead. Itachi remembered the first time Kombu and his flock had come to him, perching like gargoyles in his favored training ground until he was surrounded by the death-omens, the vise that squeezed his chest when Shisui's favored Mirin had presented their summoning scroll, his cousin's name faded into grey just as their contract had faded after his death. Shisui was now the only summoner in the crows' contract to appear twice.

Sasuke absorbed that quietly. "I've never seen them before." Sasuke had been five when Itachi inherited the crows, but Itachi had never summoned the flock in Konoha or on a team mission. He'd kept the flock and what they represented a secret, buried down in his ribcage next to his heart.

Itachi did not like to think of what Orochimaru had done to Shisui, how he must have chased his cousin's spirit from his mortal body long enough to severe a summons contract before dragging him back. He had never liked summoning the crows those first months because of what they meant, but gradually the flock became his as much as Shisui's. "My cousin did not keep them out in the open, and neither did I," he answered.

For all that Shisui had been the Uchiha's prized dark horse until his disappearance and presumed death, his known idiosyncrasies - many friendships outside the clan, no particular predilection for katon jutsu, use of a tanto instead of a full katana - had been outnumbered by those he kept secret, including his crow summons when the Uchiha's favored contract was with the ninneko.

"I like them," Sasuke said decisively, dragging Itachi's attention back to the present.

"I am glad," said Itachi, glancing down fondly at his brother's now short-cropped brown-blond hair. "I did not mean to be separated from you for so long." He paused. "Perhaps you can show me what you have learned in that time, later," he suggested.

Sasuke straightened slightly before forcibly relaxing. "Yeah, maybe," he said, keeping up the pretense of disinterest.

" Fellow sensei, " Shisui gritted out behind him.

Itachi turned to see a wide, fixed smile plastered on his cousin's face. In the background, Naruto peered at them, waving his hands animatedly as he chattered at a stonefaced Gaara. Like vultures sensing a dying animal, the rest of the pack perched casually in their vicinity. "No," Itachi said politely. "We two do not require food at this time."

Shisui glowered at him, and had they been on dry land Itachi was quite sure he would have attempted to incinerate him with the force of his glare alone. "I will get you," Shisui promised, and stalked towards the stairs that would lead below deck. The pack trailed him down in twos and threes.

Itachi did not watch them go, but instead stretched out his chakra-sense as far as it would go. Civilian ships had been neutral ground since the war began, but the oceans were not.

By the time the ship reached the drop point, night had fallen. The ever present ocean wind streaked sticky fingers through Itachi's hair, and he was glad to be able to bundle it back into its customary ponytail.

"Over, over, over," Shisui urged, chivvying the pack over the side one at a time. Once again swathed in their fur cloaks and bone-masks, they vaulted over the railing silently and lightly. Shisui hopped over after them, and Itachi followed last of all, hunter-nin mask over his face once again. The Okamaru plowed past, showering the eleven crouched atop the surface of the water with seaspray in its wake.

"Hachi, you're up," ordered Shisui.

Sai nodded acknowledgement and swept out a scroll as long as his arm. His brush danced over the surface, and a great seahawk bloomed in black and white. He lifted his hand into a seal, and in a bust of air and chakra, the creature peeled off the paper and took wing under their feet, growing ever larger until its wingspan rivaled the Okamaru's length. Sai staggered as his foot slipped, unbalanced by the loss of the chakra he'd used to will his bird to life, and sand snaked around his arm to haul him back upright.

"Good to go?" asked Shisui, watching him balance himself on the neck of his creature.

"Hai," said Sai, rolling up his scroll and sliding it back under his cloak. "Until the chakra in this construct is fully used, it will bear all of our weights." On a silent signal, the construct beat its wings powerfully and swept them high above the waves.

Itachi had leapt and run through trees, but flying was an entirely new experience. His crows were minor summons, nowhere near large or strong enough to bear him on their backs as Sai's ink hawk did now. Had anyone asked, he would have professed no great love or hatred for the experience, but in truth, after just one minute in the air, Itachi would not have chosen to fly if it were not the most efficient option. Each stroke of the wings jarred his entire body, and Itachi appreciated for perhaps the first time the intimate knowledge Sai must have for the mechanics involved in keeping such a creature aloft.

Nevertheless, he settled in a loose crouch on the bird's back. Neji knelt at his side, his doujutsu active as he fixed unseeing and all-seeing eyes on the horizon.

Itachi watched as the ocean flashed by, mentally checking off landmarks on his mental map as Shisui directed Sai at the bird's head and the pack settled in alertly between them and himself. The ink construct was admittedly much faster than the Okamaru, and as he discovered as they both overtook and dwarfed a flock of seagulls, much faster than an ordinary animal. Time and waves alike sped past.

"Ah," said Sai abruptly when the moon had long passed its zenith. "I believe - "

The rush of air muffled Sakura's surprised shriek as the ink-creature dispelled with a soft puff. Itachi's stomach slammed into his lungs, ripping his breath away as the ground suddenly dropped out from beneath his feet, plunging him into a freefall. He twisted midair, grabbing for Neji, who was nearest, and bleakly indulged his justification in his distaste for flying.

"Hinata-sama," Neji gasped, even as he hooked one arm around Itachi's shoulder. The ocean sparkled ever closer beneath him, but the roar of wind and vastness of the blue-black sky battered his senses and he took a precious few seconds to consider his options.

A whirl of movement caught his eye as Temari whipped the fan off her back and snapped it open instinctively, catching her fall and bearing her back up. She leaned over the edge and snagged Hinata by the back of the cloak, dragging the smaller girl up behind her. Haku threw out his hand and slammed feet-first into the ice mirror that appeared in a flash of light.

Itachi could brace his own fall from any height, and he knew Shisui could as well. However, the children would not have had much opportunity to perfect the technique, and Itachi would greatly prefer they not attempt it for the first time from four hundred meters above the ocean. Shisui threw himself into a midair shunshin, tackling Sasuke out of his tumble, and Itachi felt a rush of relief and gratefulness and guilt.

Five meters below Itachi, Gaara's eyes closed. They had fallen far enough now that through the stinging of his eyes and hair whipping in his face, Itachi could see the ocean churning beneath them. A curious circle frothed directly beneath them, and from this erupted a massive fountain of sand. Like branches towards the sun, the pillar streamed upwards, reaching for Gaara and the others with grasping claws. Too fast.

"Gently!" Shisui shouted, the word nearly carried away by the wind.

Gaara bared his teeth in a snarl of concentration, eyes slitting open, and Itachi could not tell if the green glow of his eyes was chakra or just a trick of the light. Naruto hit first in a plume of sand, then Sakura and Sai to either side of him with audible thumps. Gaara alighted behind the three, the sand cradling him as it collapsed in on itself, carrying them down to the water.

Itachi twisted away to the side of the sand-tree for a cleaner impact on the ocean's surface and gripped the back of Neji's neck with a stabilizing hand. He landed in a crouch, and the force of his landing sent a shockwave blasting through the water beneath his feet. Not a second later, a second ripped through the waves as Shisui hit the water.

Cautiously, Itachi let go of Neji, who wobbled before finding his feet. He eyed the boy carefully. "Are you unhurt?"

"Aa. Thank you," Neji said grudgingly, stepping away hastily. His roughly-cut hair stuck out at odd angles behind his mask, and Itachi forced down the sudden urge to smooth his hair down. Neji had never quite seemed one for gestures of affection.

"Oh, man, that was awesome!" Naruto breathed, stumbling off the sand onto the choppy waves. "That was super cool. Gaara, you're so cool!" Gaara's mask had been knocked askew and his face had turned red, but from embarrassment or the wind Itachi was not sure.

"That was crazy," said Sakura, voice still shrill. "I can't believe we didn't die."

Shisui stepped over the remains of Gaara's sand as it sank back below the waves. "That was a close one," he said unconcernedly. His new mask still sat perfectly in place, hair wind-tousled as ever. Behind him, Sasuke did an unwitting impression of a cat that had been caught out during a windstorm. "Good catch, Gaara-kun." He peered up at the sky to see Temari's fan still circling above them, but drifting lower.

Moonlight glinted off the ice mirror that grew laboriously from the sea spray, and presently Haku's image appeared before the younger shinobi himself stepped out. Like Shisui, he appeared entirely unruffled, mask still firmly in place and cloak draped about his shoulders as if he had gone on a midnight stroll. "That was unexpected," he noted placidly. "I will have to suggest that we run the rest of the way."

"I do not have the chakra to animate another construct of that size, in any case," Sai admitted, grabbing absently for Naruto's shoulder for support.

"We are within fifty kilometers of the target site," said Itachi, scrutinizing the waves. "Continuing on foot should prove no great obstacle. However, we should move quickly. A chakra output of that magnitude would not have gone unnoticed."

Temari's fan tipped to deposit her and Hinata atop the sea foam. She landed in a crouch, swinging the fan back shut. "What does that mean?" she demanded.

"Gaara-kun used a lot of chakra to catch our people here," said Shisui, patting Sakura on the head. "In this kind of war, Kiri will probably send a scouting party to find out where we set up a base, and if they think we're a big enough threat, they'll send a squad to take us out."

"They're going to try and kill us?" Naruto yelped.

"It's a war, idiot, of course they're trying to kill us," Sasuke snipped back, eyes still wild behind his mask.

"Yeah, but - " Naruto waved an expansive hand at the ocean around them. "Now?"

"Kiri shinobi are more at home in the water than shinobi of any other nation," Haku interjected helpfully. "It is easier to catch you off guard when you are exposed like this."

"What do you mean, 'you?'" Sasuke said slowly.

"I did used to be a hunter-nin of Kirigakure," Haku pointed out. He glanced at them apologetically. "Konoha shinobi were the easiest to take down on open water."

Naruto looked mortally offended. "What about Suna?" he complained. "They don't even have any water!"

Temari shrugged. "There's the elemental disadvantage to consider, too. Suna shinobi don't do much water-walking, but it's not too different from sand-walking."

"As much as this self-education thrills me as your sensei," Shisui interrupted, "we really need to go. Itachi?"

Although this was technically Shisui's command, Itachi's sense of urgency did not have time to politely and respectfully argue his cousin into making the decisions. "Ichi will take point with me," he said, nodding at Haku, who inclined his head gracefully. "Rei and Ni will follow. Shi, Go, and Roku after, then Shichi and Kyuu. Hachi and Juu, rearguard." He paused, and Naruto raised his hand. Itachi resisted the urge to sigh. "Yes?"

"Do you have a cool codename?" Naruto chirped.

Itachi stared blankly. "Hana-An-141, captain," he said, and turned. "Ni and Kyuu, trade off keeping watch," he ordered, and took off in a sprint across the waves, Haku by his side.

"We can't call him that," Naruto huffed distantly behind him. "That's way too long."

"Logically, we can use his identifying number, as the rest of us do," suggested Sai.

"141? Hyaku-shi-juu-ichi is way too long," Temari disagreed from five meters back. "And if we use Ichi-shi-ichi it just sounds like you're calling Ichi and Shi." Itachi did not sigh or pinch the bridge of his nose, though he was beginning to see the appeal. If Temari joined the conversation, it legitimized the topic of discussion.

"He's a captain," Sasuke contributed. "Just call him 'captain.'"

"We can't call him captain, the captain's captain," Naruto argued.

"What about just 'sensei?'" asked Sakura, sounding slightly out of breath.

"Not your sensei," Gaara grumbled, the words nearly carried away by the wind.

"Enemy territory, kids," Shisui reminded from the back. "Let's cut the chatter."

A shinobi knew better than to gamble on one's luck. The gods would surely strike down such presumption, and barring that, an enemy would simply find a hapless prey who had let their guard down to indulge a flight of whimsy. Hope, however, had sustained all sorts of lives through innumerable trials, and did in part fuel Hanabi-ha at large. Thus, Itachi was both unsurprised and disappointed when Hinata called, in Kyuu's unwavering voice, that a team of four shinobi each was approaching from the front on either side.

An excellent sensor could report four shinobi with well-developed chakra systems, two with mildly developed chakra systems, and another five with the ability to manipulate chakra. A merely good sensor would sense nine child-sized chakra sources and two muted adult-sized chakra sources and and the execution of a chuunin-level jutsu.

Several possibilities, then, for the approaching Kiri shinobi: eight shinobi of upper Guntai caliber judged to be able to handle eleven assorted Guntai genin and chuunin; eight shinobi of both the Guntai and Shirei-bu capable of taking down suspected Shirei-bu genin teams; or a fully Shirei-bu squad capable of completely eradicating other chuunin-jounin teams.

No chances.

Itachi glanced over his shoulder and met Shisui's eye. His cousin nodded once.

"Kyuu, north team. Ni, south. Tell me everything you can about the shinobi - weapons, chakra systems, body build," Shisui ordered.

"North side - three male, one female," Hinata reported. "Estimate three chuunin, one jounin from chakra system development. Female and jounin male are slight and carry basic weaponry. One male medium build with a katana, one male heavy build, wrapped hands."

"South side, also three male, one female," said Neji. "I predict all four are jounin with well-developed chakra systems. One male, one female carry katana. Based on body language, the female is the leader. One other man is medium build and carries basic weaponry, the other carries fuuma shuriken."

"Team Suzaku, we're going in hard and fast," Shisui decided calmly. "Target the north team only. Ichi, get your team in, then Rei and Ni, you have the swordsman. I'll meet you there; I'll take the jounin. Ichi, box the last two in until Team Byakko gets there."

"Hai," Haku acknowledged, his voice gone cold and hard. Temari and Neji echoed him, exchanging glances.

"Team Byakko, you're in charge of the heavy male," Shisui continued. "You're not as fast as Ichi or I, but get in as quickly as you can and either take him down or stall until Ichi is done with his target."

"We got this!" Naruto reassured.

"We won't let you down," Sasuke agreed, voice low.

"Team Genbu - " Shisui hesitated for a moment. "Once we go after the north team, we'll have a team of four jounin who are going to do their damndest to get to the fighting. Your job is to stop them, because if a single one of them gets to us before our battles are over, the chances of one of us dying triples. Itachi will engage the jounin, and hold as many as he can for as long as he can when they pursue, but he can't be everywhere, and neither can I. You don't need to face them directly, just deflect. Got it?"

"Hai," Sai responded crisply.

Itachi's hand ached for the hilt of his katana. He settled for training his eyes to the side, towards his four targets. By himself, he would take his time and pick them off one at a time, but the circumstances and the stakes were different today.

"One kilometer and closing," Neji reported.

Most shinobi could effectively shunshin half a kilometer into or out of battle and still have the wherewithal to fight, while gaining the distance or element of surprise to do so effectively. As far as Itachi knew, Shisui had once performed a shunshin six kilometers into battle and single-handedly extracted a besieged genin team. Although Shisui had skirmished in the streets of Kitakyushu, he had not fought in a pitched battle since the night his eye had been stolen, but Itachi recognized the hard set in his cousin's eye. Like many of his comrades who had seen death young, the war had never truly left him.

"On my mark." Shisui's voice took on the hunter's purr Itachi had not heard in five years, the promise of danger that other shinobi had literally fled from after realizing who had spoken.

"Five hundred meters," Hinata said.

"Go!" Shisui snapped, and vanished in a burst of chakra. A surprised shout broke the silence in the distance as he landed in the middle of the Kiri team, blade first.

Immediately, Haku dragged Temari and Neji through the mirror that materialized in a flash of ice and chakra. A twinkle of light across the water answered, and the team exploded out the mirror on the far side.

"Charge!" roared Naruto, barrelling across the water, Sasuke and Sakura at his heels. Itachi perhaps needed to have a conversation with him regarding the wisdom of letting the enemy know one's intentions.

"Team Genbu, intercept!" Itachi ordered as the south team broke into a run, and darted forward.

He threw out a wide genjutsu first, snaring the entire team in a sensation of the water beneath their feet growing thick and sticky, dragging them down. One stumbled; the rest barely paused before shaking off the illusion. "Suiton: Mizuame Nabara," he muttered, and this time the water that sucked them down was no illusion.

The ocean rumbled, and a wall of sand breached the waves. Hinata dashed behind him on light feet and leapt up on top, drawing both her fans in one smooth movement as she sank into a ready crouch on the crest of the rising wall. High above, Sai circled on a small ink bird.

Itachi stepped forward unhurriedly as the Kiri team escaped his trap one by one.

"Four against one, traitor," the leader said coldly, drawing her katana in a hiss of steel. "Tell your genin to come home before they are labelled the same."

Itachi tilted his head, the stolen hunter-nin mask still covering his face. "I cannot do that," he admitted. "I will end this quickly."

"Damnit, we don't have time for this," snarled one of the shinobi behind him.

"Hirai and Yoshida, go help Ibuka's team," the kunoichi directed without taking her eyes off Itachi. "We can take care of this."

The two shinobi nodded sharply, but as they leapt forward, Itachi brought his hands up in a seal, and a mizu bunshin blurred up out of the water to block their path. "I'm afraid I cannot let you do that," he said, and drew his sword with his bunshin in tandem.

The kunoichi lunged to attack, and Itachi sank into calm. He deflected the first slash and flicked his own blade backwards, but she twirled out of the way. Movement flashed in the corner of his eye, and he threw himself into a backwards shunshin as the second swordsman bisected the air where he'd been standing.

One of the shinobi facing Itachi's mizu bunshin ducked its slash and slammed a kunai through its chest, dispelling it in a splash of water. The other leapt over Gaara for the top of the wall, and shouted in surprise as the wall stretched reaching claws back towards him. Hinata dropped down to dart along the sand arm towards him.

Itachi activated his Sharingan in a split second and hurled another genjutsu at the second shinobi leaping for the wall before blinking the doujutsu away as the other man froze. He turned in time to sidestep the kunoichi's pounce and whirled out of the way of the second swordsman. Itachi would have to trust the children to keep the jounin busy for now.

"Kage bunshin no jutsu!" Naruto's faint shout rose above the clash of metal, and a brief burst of fire bloomed from beyond Gaara's wall. A shriek cut off midway.

"You bastards!" the swordsman snarled, swinging hard and fast at Itachi's neck.

Itachi executed a neat shunshin, then another in quick succession to evade the swordsman and kunoichi's blows. "Suiton: Suidan no Jutsu," snapped the shinobi who'd been caught in Itachi's genjutsu, and Itachi leaped up high as the suiton tore through the air, leaving deep divots in the ocean's surface.

"Suiton: Suiryūdan no Jutsu," Itachi countered, flashing through the seals one-handed, and his dragon reared up out of the water and lunged towards all three with a fanged maw. He chanced a glance backwards at his team, besieging the Kiri shinobi. Spikes of sand shot out of the wall, dogging the shinobi's steps as he swung his folded fuuma shuriken at Hinata, who countered with a battle-fan. Ink birds dove at his eyes, and he swiped at them with the kunai in his free hand.

Itachi's attention snapped back abruptly as the kunoichi erupted out of the water directly in front of him. He deflected her, slipping out of her path, when she whirled back towards him. He ducked her next blow, reversed his grip on the hilt of his katana, and took three quick steps back to stab it backwards into the swordsman charging at him from behind. The tip sank cleanly into the shinobi's chest and straight out his back. The man choked. Itachi yanked the blade back out in one smooth movement, and blood splattered on his cloak as the man tipped forward, motionless, the sword dropping out of one nerveless hand and sinking below the waves. Itachi brought his katana, still dripping blood, back down to his side and carefully eyed the kunoichi who had pulled up short.

The kunoichi stared at the body of her teammate, eyes narrow and mouth twisted into a disgusted grimace. "How dare you," she said softly.

Itachi said nothing, as there was nothing to be said. He knew what he was; war made monsters of every man.

The kunoichi swept her blade behind her. " Dance of the Cicadas ," she snarled, and blurred forward until first two, then four of her and her clones streaked towards him.

He could not move backwards; Gaara's wall would box him in. Lightning-fast, Itachi drew a kunai to block the blade whistling towards his left side and deflected a strike at his throat before flicking his sword down, catching another blade on his katana's and another on its hilt. He shoved, desperation lending him extra strength, and hurled his kunai as he dove under a swinging blade. It flew true, and then Itachi faced three of the relentless kunoichi.

"Incoming!" Hinata's nervousness bled into Kyuu's breathless voice. "Team of four jounin towards the north team!"

None of them had the ability to help their teammates in the other battle. "Hold position!" Itachi ordered, spinning out of the way of the kunoichi's assault. It was time to end this fight. He substituted out of the way of a water tendril lashing through the air from the other shinobi. He substituted again almost immediately, out of another of the kunoichi's two-point attacks, and landed with his back to open water.

"You're done for, now," sneered the ninjutsu specialist, hands already flickering through another set of seals. "You and your little kiddies over there."

Itachi narrowed his eyes in response. Hinata gasped behind him, high and panicked, and he glanced up to see her stumbling backwards from the Kiri jounin as he leaped above Gaara's grasping sand. With a snap of his wrist, the fuuma shuriken extended and he hurled it, knocking one of the fans out of her hand. Sai's bird dove in a sharp arc, but a second shuriken clipped its wing and splattered the construct in a spray of ink.

Then Itachi had no time to look, because the water rose up around him like snake heads ready to strike, and he leaped out of the way, straight into the blades of two of the kunoichi. He swung his katana up and released the chakra buoying his feet, diving into the water beneath her; at the same time, he wove his chakra into a potent genjutsu so she would see him charging her.

She froze, and her bunshin dispelled one after the other as she watched them meet their end under Itachi's genjutsu. She would see her death, too, and Itachi's illusion would make it reality.

Now to deal with the ninjutsu specialist.

A shunshin put him behind the man, who swung around with a snarl on his face, and the water beneath Itachi's feet erupted in a geyser. Itachi let the momentum carry him up, flipping sideways, and darted forward. His katana met a kunai, his backswing hit wood as the shinobi substituted out of the way, but Itachi knew where he'd be and snared him in another genjutsu when the shinobi alighted behind him. It took only a second for the shinobi to rip himself free of the hastily-constructed illusion, but Itachi only needed the one second to slide his blade beneath the man's ribcage.

Hinata cried out. Malevolence surged behind him, and Itachi glanced up sharply to see Gaara's sand snare the last hapless Kiri jounin, crawling up his ankle and up the struggling shinobi's chest as Hinata stumbled backwards along the sinking wall, red-stained hand clutched to her arm. Sai dragged himself out onto the water's surface. Itachi ran.

Sand closed over the shinobi's face. "Shichi!" Itachi barked, but Gaara's eyes glowed golden beneath his mask and he clenched his hand into a fist.

Hinata let out a muffled yelp as blood rained through the air, splattering her liberally. "Come down," Sai urged her, darting frantic glances at their teammate, who stood stock still, staring at the sand cocoon that had once held a man. Around him, the sand shifted, as if waking from a long sleep.

"Hachi, get her out of there," Itachi commanded, waking the Sharingan in his eyes. The Ichibi did not care whether Gaara considered them friend or foe. Sai leapt up, wrapping an arm around Hinata to carry her off the collapsing sand and over the other side, and Itachi landed in a crouch, face to face with Gaara. The jinchuuriki's eyes snapped to his, the beginnings of a snarl carving sharp furrows around his eyes. "The threat is gone," Itachi said. "Calm down, Gaara."

At the sound of his name, Gaara's eyes flickered, losing their acidic edge and fading back to green, but at once he shook his head savagely, and the gold flared.

"Calm!" Itachi repeated insistently, this time layering the word with genjutsu. He preferred visual genjutsu; he had never been as proficient as Shisui in the realm of suggestive genjutsu. Gaara swayed, blinking confusedly as his eyes settled back towards their natural color. "Calm," Itachi said one more time for good measure, pouring as much chakra as he dared into the genjutsu, and Gaara stared back at him placidly, the sand around him slowly sinking back into the ocean.

With the sand gone, Itachi could see the clash of light and metal as the other battle raged. Across the open water Sakura was thrown backwards, and she skidded across the surface on her side as Naruto dove at their opponent, fists first.

Out of the corner of his eye, Hinata stumbled, and Sai reached out a steadying arm when her foot broke through the water's surface.

"Status?" Itachi said sharply, glancing sideways at them.

"I-it's a m-minor i-injury," Hinata panted without releasing her death grip on her arm. Blood trickled from beneath her hand, but it indeed did not seem life threatening.

"My chakra reserves are low," added Sai.

"T-the new j-jounin have a-almost r-reached the o-other t-teams," Hinata whispered. Her face was pale - from blood loss or fright Itachi could not be sure.

Itachi's eyes slid briefly to Gaara before a spike in chakra heralded a plume of fire in the distant battle. Out of time. "Stay back. Your priority now is evasion. Watch out for your team." He tilted his head towards Gaara, swaying unsteadily now.

"Understood," said Sai.

Itachi broke into a sprint, streaking across the surface of the water with renewed urgency. He stretched out his chakra sense and his heart sank as the four new shinobi's chakra collided with the tangle of chakra that comprised the current battle.

Metal flashed. Sakura shrieked, high and anguished. Shisui's chakra spiked, enraged.

Wait, said Itachi's caution, so he did not immediately throw himself into the furthest shunshin he could manage. There was more at stake here than any single one of them. Instead he gathered his chakra as he ran, held it just below his breastbone so that just a flash of chakra would ignite his eyes, and with them a genjutsu.

Itachi blinked and his doujutsu burned into existence and in that moment in time immortalized the tableau: Haku's senbon held like claws protruding from one shinobi's chest through his flak jacket; Temari swinging her fan grimly over Neji's head as he skidded backwards; Shisui with his burning fury and the path he would rip through three shinobi with fire chakra sharpening his blade; Naruto face up in the water, eyes closed and the hilt of a katana emerging from his abdomen; Sakura with crimson splattered on her mask as she lunged over his prone form; an answering bloody glow from Sasuke's eyes. Then Itachi cast his genjutsu and with it dissipated his Sharingan and the world sped back to real time. He landed behind the jounin facing his brother who turned too late, still entangled in Itachi's genjutsu, and with a dispassionate jerk of his katana cut the man's throat before he could speak.

Shisui landed behind him in a spray of water, blood splattering his blade where he had scored his enemy. "Cover me!" He snapped, and whirled. He skidded into a crouch at Naruto's side as Sakura and Sasuke hovered above him, terrified and furious at once.

Chakra swelled; Itachi recognized it, and so did the Kiri shinobi. The man charging at him pulled up short, eyes going wide, and was promptly bisected at the waist by one Kubikiribocho.

Zabuza landed in a crouch among the three remaining shinobi like a fox among chickens, one hand wielding his massive blade with ease, and they scattered. "Pursue?" The older man growled, eyes flickering after the fleeing jounin.

Itachi calculated the chances of one of them recognizing Sasuke's nascent Sharingan for what they were. "No survivors," he said, heart heavy.

"Suzaku, with me," Zabuza snarled and charged.

In the wake of his uncharacteristic brutality, Haku's mask too dripped blood. He reached out imperiously and his ice responded to his call. He took Temari by the shoulder and dragged her into the mirror, and she in turn gripped Neji by the arm. An answering twinkle in the distance, and the three vanished from the surface of the ice.

Ahead of Zabuza, mist rose from the surface of the ocean, caging the three jounin between the team that exploded from the mirror ahead of them and the vengeful jounin behind. Zabuza was fresh. The Kiri shinobi had already been in battle, were already wounded. Itachi turned away. The mist would be bloodied soon enough.

Shisui's hands were steady as he cupped a handful of chakra above Naruto's stomach. Sakura leaned in closer to get a better look.

"Shi and Go, stand guard," Itachi ordered. "Allow Juu space to work." Sakura backed up immediately, but Sasuke remained frozen, staring at Naruto with the tomoe in his eyes spinning, spinning, spinning.

Itachi regretted that this would be the first scene that his younger brother remembered with crystal clarity for the rest of his life. He crouched in front of Sasuke and reached out carefully with his chakra-sense, but there was nobody near but them. "Sasuke," he said insistently, and his brother's unfocused eyes snapped to him.

"It hurts," his otouto whispered, more surprised than anything else. His fingers clenched, bunching the fabric over his heart.

"I know," Itachi said. "You need to cease the chakra to your eyes."

Sasuke blinked, but his Sharingan whirled in his eyes still.

"Sasuke," Itachi repeated. "The battle is over." He reached up and poked his brother's forehead, like he had not done since, he realized, before the night of the Fall. The familiarity of the motion was enough to jar Sasuke out of his panic and battle haze, and his Sharingan died away with one last whirl. Itachi swallowed down both relief and pride.

Pure malice billowed up from behind him like a spark caught by wind, and he tensed, spinning around and positioning himself between Sasuke and its source. Shisui let out a surprised huff and jumped backwards. Naruto's eyes slid open slowly and locked on Shisui, considering him with slitted red eyes.

"Shit," Shisui muttered succinctly, voice a mixture of awe and apprehension.

Itachi's memory jolted with flashes of a half-remembered night of fear and the press of hatred, far more potent than even the Ichibi's chakra the day Gaara had lost control in San's forest. Naruto's lips peeled back in a snarl, and Itachi caught a glimpse of pointed fang as he sat up. In one sudden motion, the jinchuuriki reached down to the sword with a clawed hand and ripped it free.

"Hey!" Shisui snapped, lunging back forwards, but the wound was already sealing over with a bubbling miasma of raw, red chakra.

"That's super useful," Sakura said from behind him. The curiosity in her voice overshadowed her trepidation.

Shisui hummed agreement, leaning back in with careful movements as Itachi watched warily. "Okay, Naruto. Battle's over, bud, let's turn it back down, hmm?"

For a long moment, the eerie gaze swept across each of them. Then Naruto blinked, and almost immediately the red in his eyes faded to violet, then its regular brilliant blue. "Turn what down?" he slurred. "I wa'nt talking." He glanced down at the katana in his hand, regarding it bemusedly. "Uh, you gave me a sword?"

Shisui, for his part, was remarkably unfazed. "No," he said empathetically. "You just pulled that out of your kidneys, probably."

"Cool," said Naruto.

"Idiot," Sasuke snarled with particular vitriol and whirled, stalking away a few steps towards the distant mist.

"You're covered in blood," Sakura pointed out, morbidly fascinated.

Naruto looked down at his blood-soaked shirt. "Huh," he said. "That's kind of cool. You, uh, want this?" He waved the sword, and Shisui leaned back as it swayed dangerously close to his face.

Sakura wrinkled her nose. "No," she said. "Sasuke?"

Sasuke glanced over his shoulder, and Itachi could tell he did want it. Longing warred with irritation and won. "Yeah, fine," he said, and stalked over to take the hilt from his teammate gingerly.

"Still in a warzone, kids," said Shisui. He craned his neck. "Where's Team Genbu?"

"They are recovering," Itachi responded, tilting his head back towards the south. Shisui blinked at him once, slowly. Itachi frowned. "They are not in danger. Relatively speaking." His cousin continued to stare at him, exasperation bleeding into his eye. "Ah," said Itachi at last. Shisui believed that particular team required what he called a 'lighter touch,' to which Itachi freely admitted that save Sai, the team did not handle much like a traditional shinobi unit - Gaara was too volatile, Hinata too delicate. Shisui liked to apply what he called 'proximity and affirmation' and what Zabuza called 'godsdamned coddling' - but never to their faces - in order to keep them and their mental states in optimal condition, to which neither he nor Itachi could not contribute from half a kilometer away.

"Ah," Shisui agreed dryly. "I'll fetch them." He stepped into a shunshin before Itachi could respond. From an objective standpoint, Itachi was best suited to instruct Team Genbu considering his extensive undercover work in Anbu, but Shisui's easygoing nature elicited the best results from its members.

In the meantime, that left Itachi with Team Byakko. Naruto pushed himself to his feet, deliberately bumping into Sasuke, who jerked the katana at him threateningly. Sakura set her hands on her hips and glared at them both. The team, true to form, bounced back rather quickly considering Naruto would most likely have died if not for the Kyuubi, whose chakra had materialized for the first time since its sealing almost ten years ago, and also that Sasuke had just activated his genkai kekkei for the first time at age nine. In fact, Itachi seemed the one most concerned by these immediate past events.

Itachi brushed these thoughts to the side and narrowed his eyes across the ocean's surface, where the mist dissipated slowly. Zabuza's hulking silhouette emerged, trailed by the three slighter figures of Team Suzaku. All four were liberally splattered in blood, and Itachi's insides clenched at the sight of the children. War seemed the universal answer to turning a blind eye, so for the time being, Itachi quashed sentiment with practicality. "I was not expecting you to join us here," he said to Zabuza. "Did you receive new orders?"

"No," drawled Zabuza. "I just wanted an excuse to spend more time with these little hellions." He rolled his eyes. "Yes, of course I have orders." His eyes slid to Sasuke, who clutched his newly acquired katana closer to his chest. "I see we're looting bodies now."

"Actually, Naruto pulled that out of his own body," Shisui corrected. He had one arm around a woozy Gaara. Hinata now had a length of bloodied cloth tied about her arm in two places and walked unassisted next to Sai.

Zabuza eyed Naruto warily, who beamed back. "Hm," said the Swordsman grudgingly. "I guess that's all right then." The older shinobi's strange code apparently decreed, among other things, that a swordsman who lost his sword did not deserve it. Even if they were now dead.

"New orders?" Itachi prompted, stretching out his chakra-sense again. Their decimation of the backup jounin squad would likely result in one of two outcomes: Kiri conceded this section of the ocean to the Hanran for the time being, having already lost three teams including at least nine Command Corps caliber shinobi; or Kiri sent a squad of Anbu or hunter-nin to take them down while they were wounded and spent.

"You and me are temporarily reassigned to this godsforsaken corner of the ocean with this lot of heathens," said Zabuza, folding his arms and mostly succeeding in appearing disgruntled. "Tell you more when the munchkins aren't around." Sasuke aimed a glower at the man, but the redirection wasn't enough for the real target.

Shisui stilled thoughtfully, and Itachi bit back a grimace. If Shisui could be called the minder for the children, it seemed Zabuza and Itachi were to be the minders for Shisui. Itachi did look forward to working with Shisui once again, but his cousin was no doubt perceptive enough to read the situation as it was.

"You're staying?" Sakura asked with some trepidation.

Zabuza snorted, tactful enough not to look at Shisui. "Unfortunately."

Unfortunate they were not, as Kiri declined to send a kill squad after all. They made landfall at dawn on a miserably muddy island, designated as Position 25-35 by the Kiri Hanran. Itachi generally preferred to remain objective, but he disliked the island almost immediately. Inland, thin trees yawned above and draped whiplike branches down into the sludge. Even classifying the island as 'land' was difficult - the swell of the tide submerged at least half the mud and licked greedy fingers at the rest.

Even Shisui paused to stare in disgust. "Is this a covert mission?" he asked.

Itachi considered the orders he'd received. "Identities, yes; our presence here, no," he concluded.

"Good. Let's at least make this dump habitable," Zabuza growled.

"This is totally gross," Naruto said gleefully, slogging along ankle-deep. "Let's just sleep in this!"

"No," said Temari empathetically.

Four hours later, all nine children had effectively been bandaged, wrapped in their cloaks, and minus Gaara, were sleeping the sleep of the post-adrenaline crash. Instead of merely mud and trees, the island now contained mud, trees, and a series of platforms raised above the former made of the branches and trunks of the latter. They were not particularly structurally sound, and Itachi was quite sure that exsanguination by splinter would have been a legitimate concern if Gaara hadn't recovered his capacity to harness his sand to smooth out the wood before lying down in the centermost platform and simply ceasing all movement.

The children slept separated by team on three of the platforms towards the center of the cluster. There were six in their little city of platforms - all completed to the bare minimum to accommodate a prone shinobi without dropping them into the mud, each with varying sizes and heights, which would need to be improved upon once their occupants regained their energy. Itachi and Shisui shared another, for now, and on the far side, Zabuza hunched over his sword. Whether because he desired to be alone or because he wished to give the cousins some time to themselves, Itachi was not sure - the Swordsman alternated between aggressively antisocial, indifferent, and grudgingly considerate.

Some conversations were best held in the light of the moon, when all was dark and quiet but for the murmur of another's voice. In a war, however, time was precious and times of peace doubly so, and Shisui - Shisui did not soften his blows when he seized the moment, below the sun trickling through the trees above and just one meter above the mud below.

"Babysitting duty, huh?" His voice held no accusation, only neutral observation, and his back against Itachi's did not so much as tense.

Itachi concentrated on scrubbing the ever present blood from his mask. "This will likely become a strategically critical position as Hanran headquarters are moved," Itachi deflected, but that in itself was an answer and they both knew it.

Yet Shisui persisted. "I'm sure there's more critical parts of this war effort that need you."

A former Anbu captain was a valuable commodity in a war like this, where the number of chuunin outnumbered the jounin ten to one, who in turn outnumbered the Anbu ten to one. They were squad-killers, one-man-armies, and now two of them languished here, in an isolated, newly-established outpost, as much as one could be considered 'in' as the island could be called an 'outpost,' with children who, for the most part, had seen only the edges of war, and one former-jounin former-Anbu who believed his recent promotion to captain was primarily granted to maintain his cover and those of the children.

This, Itachi noted with clinical detachment, was a rather ugly assessment of his cousin. One could further describe Shisui as damaged, having lost his nerve along with an eye and the year stolen from him along with other things indescribable. At night, his breathing and sleep both stuttered. He wore his cheerfulness as a mask, when it had been genuine before - and sometimes, Itachi looked through the cracks and something dark and bitter and unfamiliar stared back.

Just a hint of that had reared its head now, but Itachi stared it down calmly as he did any opponent. "As strategically unimportant as this particular island may be, its position will allow myself and Momochi to assist other bases in launching targeted strikes," he said. He hesitated. "And perhaps the teams," he redirected.

"Absolutely not," Shisui snapped, undoubtedly seeing the trap but not caring enough to avoid it.

Itachi had assessed and accepted the circumstances already. His cousin had not. "Team Suzaku is battle-ready," he murmured. "Momochi will want his apprentice at his side, and Temari and Neji are more or less capable of keeping pace."

Shisui blew out a frustrated breath. "They're not as tough as they pretend to be," he argued, sotto voce to keep the children from waking. "Haku's fine, obviously, but the others? Keep up with him and Zabuza? Haku used to be a hunter-nin, for Kami's sake. Even Temari never made it to genin until Hatake-taichou sort of slapped a rank on the kids en masse. And how will Neji match either of them? He doesn't have the stamina."

"He is younger than them both," Itachi pointed out. "He will grow. Until then, his team will guard his back." He slid his eyes sideways, though he could only make out Shisui's spiky hair in his peripheral. "They are strong - all of them - and they have each other."

Shisui tipped his head back with a sigh, craning his neck awkwardly until it rested on Itachi's shoulder. "Here I am, demanding answers from you that I already have," he said wryly, and this time his voice was tired more than anything else.

"You care," Itachi said simply, and it was true. Uchiha fought and loved fiercely, and Shisui was no different. Itachi loved his brother more than anything else, but Shisui had grown a strange attachment to all nine of the motley pack of children.

"So do you," Shisui said softly, and turned his head towards the clusters of slumbering children. "I guess I just haven't learned how to trust them yet."

When Kombu swooped down on him, Itachi was standing out on the open water, the base at 25-35W distant enough to be just a smudge in the distance; ostensibly, he and Sasuke were on patrol. He sensed nothing and took advantage of this to enjoy the gentle roil of water beneath his feet, the rare moment of stillness to speak with his brother alone.

"The Sharingan is both a strength and a burden. Guard them and they will guard you," he said, and Sasuke nodded solemnly, but not quite enough to hide the exuberant glint in his eyes. When Itachi first awakened his Sharingan, their father had given him this speech, the words bearing in them the weight of tradition. But their father was not there, so the responsibility fell to Itachi. "He who wields the Sharingan wields the power of illusion, holds the potential to master infinite jutsu, and possesses the ability to see the future itself."

Sasuke nodded again, a little impatiently. He would have heard this before a hundred times over in Konoha before he turned five.

Here, Itachi broke with tradition. "However," he said severely, and Sasuke's head snapped towards him in surprise. "The Sharingan's illusions are not infallible, copying a jutsu does not mean you are able to perform it, and if one cannot react, seeing the future - a future - is useless. Understanding these weaknesses is the key to best utilizing the Sharingan."

Sasuke paused to absorb his words. "So we train," he said at last, turning over the katana in his hands.

Itachi allowed a slight smile onto his face. "We train," he agreed, sliding his own sword out of its sheath. "Activate your - " He cut himself off abruptly, glancing up to see the black speck winging its way towards him unerringly, and lowered his blade.

Sasuke faltered, katana half-raised uncertainly. His gaze followed Itachi's up to the sky. "That's Kombu," he said with sudden realization. "You have to go, don't you." A statement, rather than a question.

"Yuruse. Forgive me, Sasuke," Itachi said regretfully, swinging his blade up and back over his shoulder. "Again, next time."

He raised his forearm for the crow to perch upon when he approached. Kombu landed, shuffling his clawed feet and beating his wings unceremoniously, and Itachi waited patiently for his summons to regain his balance. "You have flown long and far," he noted, taking the tiny scroll from Kombu's beak.

Kombu cocked his head, regarding Itachi with intelligent eyes. "Caw," he agreed. Itachi glanced back solemnly before turning his attention to the scroll. Kombu swivelled his head towards Sasuke interestedly.

The paper contained three sets of code, arranged in grids. Itachi narrowed his eyes, parsing the messages as he read them. The first contained updates to the ever-changing battle map. The second held general orders for the base. The third detailed a raid to be undertaken by himself and Zabuza. Itachi skimmed the scroll one more time and snapped it back closed. "Thank you," he told Kombu sincerely. "I will summon another for the return message when necessary."

The crow tilted back towards Itachi. "Caw," Kombu croaked. He flapped once and vanished in a cloud of white smoke.

Zabuza, once informed, smiled slowly, baring pointed teeth. "Back at it, partner," he drawled. He stood languidly, swinging Kubikiribocho back over his shoulder with indolent grace. "When do we leave?"

Itachi spared a quick glance for Shisui, still seated in seiza on the same platform. His cousin's face betrayed no emotion. "Immediately," he answered.

"Cool," said the Swordsman, and raised his voice. "Haku! Keep an eye on things while we're gone. Gods know Konoha here can't handle it by himself."

Haku glanced up, attention taken away from the coil of wire he was untangling. "Hai," he said obediently, though it was clear he had little idea of what had just transpired.

"Hey," Shisui objected, an insulted expression wiping the blankness off his face. "I'm actually in charge of this place."

Zabuza cast an pointed stare around the clearing, which had improved little besides adding improvised roofs over the platforms. "Very impressive."

"We will return tomorrow night," Itachi informed his cousin, whose glare did not leave Zabuza's smug face as the Swordsman wrapped his face with his customary bandages.

"Is this top secret or can I know what you're doing?" Shisui asked, finally turning away from Zabuza.

Itachi paused, tilting his head thoughtfully. "I would rather inform you once we have returned," he said truthfully.

Shisui shrugged. "No problem. Have fun, kids."

"We will," Zabuza promised, hooking his mask over his face.

Itachi spared one last glance for Sasuke, lingering just within hearing distance. "Practice," he said.

"Hai," said Sasuke, straightening.

Working with Zabuza again heralded a return to the strangely comfortable partnership that they had stumbled into when Zabuza had been released from Tsunade-sama's tender mercies for the first time, four weeks after a desperate Haku had staged an ambush only to beg them for help and three weeks after he and Kakashi-taichou had raided one of Orochimaru's laboratories to find a skeletal Shisui drugged out of his mind and Zabuza with half his organs outside his body. Those first few weeks of their partnership, the Swordsman had been easily irritated, wary, and defensive, but perhaps because Itachi had not sought to treat him with anything other than professionalism, he gradually relaxed into mild abrasiveness and an easy confidence.

Despite the older man's consummate bloodlust, Itachi respected him as a shinobi. If arrogance could be defined as misplaced confidence, Zabuza had very little. He was strong enough to afford to hold himself to a code of honor and did so diligently. He was, of course, exceedingly brutal and sporadically homicidal, but every person had flaws, and Zabuza's were hardly unusual for a shinobi.

Though he could not hear Itachi's internal commentary, Zabuza's eyes slid sideways to Itachi, who had been observing him only through his peripheral vision. "What?" he said gruffly.

Itachi considered the probe, dismissed it as unimportant, and declined to answer.

The waves churned under their feet as the kilometers swept past. High above them, Nori circled lazily, a barely visible speck against the blue sky.

Itachi slowed as they approached the Hanabi-ha base, and Zabuza matched his pace. This base squatted on an island significantly larger and drier than Shisui's, and easily four times as many shinobi prowled its shores or lurked in the trees. Unlike Shisui's base, the suspicious eyes followed them even when he provided the correct passcode, drawn to their Kiri hunter-nin masks. More than one shinobi twitched, or reached for their holsters, suppressing full-body flinches at their passage.

Jounin-in-charge Nishizawa glanced up when Itachi entered the command tent, Zabuza shadowing him at his shoulder. "Ah," he said, eyes darting towards the jounin and chuunin team leaders already ringing the room. "You must be the specialists from Command."

Itachi did not feel this warranted a response, so he said nothing. Zabuza sidled in next to him, folding his arms across his chest in a simultaneously comfortable and menacing movement.

The jounin-in-charge coughed. "Right. So, er, would you like the rundown of the operation?"

Nishizawa seemed surprisingly high strung for the man in charge of this military operation. Perhaps Itachi was not promoting what Shisui called 'an encouraging atmosphere.' Granted, this man had to be at least ten years older than Itachi and he was fairly certain that Shisui had intended that particular concept to be applied to the children, but he could see how he could transpose it here. "Yes," he said.

"Ah, okay," said Nishizawa, hands unconsciously going back to the map on the table. "The, uh, the objective is to capture a Kiri outpost that will give us an avenue of access to another base, which will lead to the stronghold on Amani Island. Our target is an outpost eighty-five kilometers south-southwest of Amani. Intel suggests it has a skeleton garrison of eight chuunin teams and at least ten jounin. Three teams with long-range specialists will approach from the south." He tapped different points on the map. "Here and here, teams will engage at close range and draw out the garrison."

Here, Nishizawa glanced up, as if just remembering Itachi's presence. "And, er, you and your partner can launch a strike as soon the teams come out?"

Zabuza snorted. "Long range distraction? They won't bother looking to see what the noise is." Itachi glanced over, and the other man jerked his head towards the map. Itachi dipped a shoulder.

Zabuza strode forward, and had the trio of chuunin leaders clustered at Nishizawa's left not hastily shuffled backwards, they would have been shouldered out of the way. "New plan," he growled. "I charge the front; they'll come out. Move your long range teams back and wait outside the mist for any stragglers. Close range teams penetrate the garrison as soon as they're out."

"Mist," one jounin murmured thoughtfully from across the room. In Itachi's peripheral, she regarded Zabuza with interest.

Nishizawa tapped his fingers nervously. "What, uh, what makes you think they'll all come out?"

Zabuza crossed his arms. "They'll be terrified of me," he said, voice smug.

Nishizawa glanced at Itachi for clarification, perhaps to see if he would refute the assertion.

Itachi did not see the need to correct his partner, although he could understand why Nishizawa might have concerns. Anbu thrived under covert conditions, even in times of war. Shinobi capable of dealing massive amounts of damage in an attention-attracting manner as Zabuza professed typically did not stay in black ops, instead rotating back out to the General Forces, or more likely the Command Corps, yet both he and Zabuza wore hunter-nin masks with Kiri flak jackets and held codenames identifying them as Anbu. But that was not the only reason Zabuza had altered the plan this way. "As he says," Itachi said eventually, when the silence had stretched on too long.

"Oh," said the jounin-in charge blankly. He paused and shuffled the markers on the map. "And, er. Where will you be?"

Itachi considered the map. "I will enter the tower from the top and work my way down to locate and eliminate those who stay."

Twelve pairs of eyes swung towards Itachi incredulously. Zabuza exuded an air of amusement. "Er," hazarded Nishizawa. "By - by yourself?

Itachi paused for a moment to recalculate in case he had overestimated his own abilities. He did not believe he had. "Yes," he said simply. "Your teams will enter from the bottom. Once we have reached a rendezvous, your teams will maintain control of the outpost and I will move to assist my partner."

"Okay then," said Nishizawa, clearly dubious, but when neither he nor Zabuza faltered or commented further, turned back to the room at large. "Let's, uh, let's go over individual assignments.

The nature of their operation meant that after planning, Itachi and Zabuza had roughly one hour to eat after the planning session had concluded before they would have to move into position.

Zabuza eyed the row of vats bubbling in the cooking tent perched precariously between two tall trees with a combination of curiosity and distaste. "You eating that slop?"

Itachi did not consider himself a particularly picky eater. However, even the rock-solid, dust-dry field rations did not consist of a watery soup with flakes of charred garlic and undercooked potatoes. Additionally, choosing to eat the camp meal meant he would have to pass through the rows of wary shinobi lining the walls of the tent. Normally, Itachi would not so much as twitch at the thought of dining amidst the hostility, but today he was fresh from the comfortable atmosphere of Shisui's camp and Sasuke's company and on the brink of an operation that promised copious amounts of violence and blood.

He drifted away from the tent, and perhaps sensing his mood, Zabuza did not comment as he followed him to the edge of the trees. Instead, he reached into the pocket of his flak jacket and tossed something small at Itachi, who caught it instinctively. The Swordsman flicked the mask up to his nose and tugged down the bandages swathing his mouth. "What's on your mind?" he asked gruffly

Itachi turned the ration bar over in his hands and opened it. "You think the outpost is a trap," he said without accusation.

Zabuza's eyes were hidden beneath the mask, but Itachi felt the older man regarding him with no small amusement. "Yeah? So do you."

True. "You did not mention that during the briefing," he noted, tilting his mask up slightly so he could eat.

Zabuza bared his teeth in a sharklike grin. "You didn't either," he pointed out. "Aren't you Konoha types all about sharing?"

"Transparency is encouraged when one trusts one's comrades," Itachi said neutrally.

Zabuza leaned back. "Hn. So you agree that not everyone in there's as trustworthy as me."

There was a joke in there somewhere, though Zabuza typically enjoyed and employed a more straightforward type of humor. "A secret is best kept when there are fewer to tell it," he said instead. "You and I are best equipped to deal with a potential trap."

Zabuza snorted. "The two of us are best for everything except medic and cannon fodder, kid."

Itachi knew he reminded Zabuza of Haku, who was only three years younger than Itachi himself and had fought at his side for years the way Itachi did now, albeit with a different arrangement. However, the war and the horrors Haku had witnessed or bourne at a young age had not yet stripped away his innocence the way it had Itachi's, and Zabuza most definitely did not try to train Itachi. Even still, the older shinobi seemed not to notice his slip.

Itachi let the silence stand and finished the ration bar. Zabuza unsheathed his katana and removed a whetstone from his pouch, letting it rasp over the edge of his blade. Zabuza's silent killing techniques with even a regular katana were unparalleled, and his ability to inspire fear as good as a genjutsu, so while they still concealed their identities, he generally kept Kubikiribocho's blade sealed into its hilt.

Time ticked inexorably on. A harried chuunin stuck his head out of the command tent and shouted, "Operation Bluebird, five minutes!"

Itachi rose with Zabuza as the older man slid his katana back into its sheath with a hiss. Zabuza stretched leisurely, tugging his bandages back up and his mask back down. "Let's go," he growled.

The target outpost perched atop a rocky buff, a hundred meters up from the waves that lapped at the base of the island. Itachi could not see the other teams from his position, only Nishizawa and Zabuza beside him. Nori perched on his shoulder, ruffling her feathers fussily.

"Once the operation starts, I'll, er, signal you when the garrison clears out as much as they will," said Nishizawa, squinting off in the direction of one of the other teams, who included the only sensor-nin for the operation, a chakra sensor of middling power. "You have - ten?" He glanced at Itachi.

"Ten is sufficient," Itachi agreed placidly.

"Ten minutes before I signal the rest of the teams," finished Nishizawa. "Er, Hana-An-031? Whenever you're ready."

"I'm ready," said Zabuza with malicious cheerfulness. His eyes slid over to Itachi. "Don't take too long," he added. He turned purposefully and charged.

Nishizawa huffed out a surprised breath at his abrupt departure. "He's, uh, he's a kenjutsu specialist, he said?"

Broadly speaking, that was correct, but that was not the question Nishizawa was really asking. "My partner is skilled in a variety of techniques," Itachi answered instead, watching as the ocean swelled in front of Zabuza. A massive water dragon reared out of the waves and slammed into the foremost tower, sending stone and water flying as it spent itself against the tower wall.

"Oh," said Nishizawa faintly. "That - that'll get their attention."

"I will leave now," Itachi announced. Nori croaked and hopped over to Nishizawa's shoulder, who flinched and nearly went for a kunai. "Inform Nori when you have the signal."

"Right," said the jounin, rolling his eyes to the side to stare at the crow without moving the rest of his body.

Itachi slipped across the water as another of Zabuza's jutsu battered the outpost. One after the other, tiny black figures swarmed from its walls and dropped over the side of the cliff to meet Zabuza's charge. The ocean roiled beneath them as tendrils of waters erupted to combat Zabuza's second dragon. Zabuza's chakra swelled and mist seeped upwards from the surface of the water, and soon all the combatants were lost to sight.

Itachi did not want to risk detection with undue chakra expulsion, even with Zabuza's chakra-laden mist obscuring the battlefield, so he ran atop the waves to the side of the island rather than shunshin. He paused at the base of the cliff, pressed against the rock face as unobtrusively as was feasible, and waited.

Two more chakra signatures flared as they dropped into the mist. The clash of metal on metal echoed across the water, and then Itachi's eyes caught a black shape winging into the air.

He reached out with his chakra-sense. His senses were not attuned enough to determine how many remained in the outpost, and there seemed to be a chakra dampener in effect, but he suspected there were still at least three full teams inside, and likely as many as five. He straightened and leapt up onto the rock face, sprinting up the side even as it transitioned from natural stone into the rough-hewn wall of the guard tower. He flowed over the top and unsheathed his katana in one movement, Sharingan spinning to life in his eyes.

Three shinobi stood guard, two with swords ready and one with kunai and wire; Itachi forestalled all their attacks by snaring them in a genjutsu.

The mind of the first shinobi - the oldest, with kunai already brandished - bent under his attack, and both the kunai and the coil of wire dropped from nerveless fingers. Itachi strode forward unhurriedly as the man crumbled to the ground, eyes open and unseeing. The second, a kunoichi, snarled, trembling head to toe with her sword gripped tightly in both hands as she fought to break free. Itachi brought his katana up and stabbed her through the chest with one quick, short thrust.

She choked, the breath stuttering in her lungs, and Itachi reached up to grip her shoulder as he slid his blade back out. He caught her as she fell backwards, lowered her the rest of the way to the roof. Her eyes drifted to meet his, hatred and fear and confusion in equal parts until those too faded as her life did.

Killing intent bubbled into the air as the last shinobi threw off the remaining tendrils of genjutsu. He tracked Itachi as he stood, eyes lingering briefly on his fallen teammates. "I'll kill you," he promised, sweeping his katana up.

Itachi did not justify that with a response. Instead, he darted forward, sending the blade in front of himself with lightning speed. Fall of the Mourning Dove . His katana deflected off the other shinobi's, and he whirled in a quick step and one-two flick-slash. Dawn Sparrow's Cry.

The other shinobi parried both easily, flowing easily into a waist-height slash at Itachi that he recognized from one of the more difficult styles Kiri favored - Hunt of the Northern Tiger . He flickered out of the way, but even with the foresight granted by his doujutsu Itachi had no intention of constraining the fight to kenjutsu. This close, the other man could not miss the Sharingan whirling lazily as Itachi glanced up from beneath the mask.

The other man's eyes widened in recognition as he looked him full in the eyes. "Uchiha Ita - "

Itachi's genjutsu caught hold of him, freezing his limbs and giving Itachi the opportunity to slide his blade up into the shinobi's ribcage. The man collapsed with a muted thump.

Itachi withdrew his blade and scrutinized the rest of the outpost roof. The wind blew in from the ocean, ruffling the clothing on the three crumpled bodies littering the roof. He sensed no one else near him.

The door to the stairwell hung ajar. He stepped towards it, then paused. A seal pulsed on the wall above the stairs, and he examined it carefully. Alarm seal? Trap seal? Itachi had no great experience with seals; as far as he knew, very few in Hanabi-ha were proficient enough to recognize anything other than a summoning seal or explosive seal besides Kakashi-taichou. With other seals, the structure and design varied widely, such that Itachi could only identify the seals he himself had used in the past, which had been created by an actual seal practitioner.

He tilted his head to consider the seal from a different angle. Ah. He recognized this one. He had seen it before, in a base far to the north. He gathered fire chakra in one gloved hand and touched it to the seal. The wall cracked beneath his touch, the edges of the seal itself flickering and burning away to ash. He stretched out with his chakra-sense, and this time, he could sense the chakra signatures of the Kiri teams within.

To borrow one of Zabuza's favored statements, it was time to hunt. He flicked the blood off his blade and proceeded down the stairs. The narrow hallways would hamper the swing of his sword, so he sheathed it back over his shoulder. He did not need a blade.

A flash of killing intent betrayed his first assailant, lunging out of a doorway with a shout. Itachi leaned backwards to avoid the tanto swinging for his face, batted aside the flat of the blade with one hand in a movement that must have appeared careless, and caught him in a genjutsu of licking flames and cold steel and innumerous figures stalking him from the shadows. Itachi stepped around the man, struck motionless and dumb with his blade hanging by his side, and walked onwards. Behind him, no more than three paces later, he heard the soft thud and clatter as the body hit the ground.

He opened the next door he encountered. Small and barren, it boasted a narrow window overlooking the sea. Itachi ventured over, glancing down at the heavy mist that carpeted the waves, blocking them from view. He moved on. In the hallway, the Sharingan revealed to him the glow of another seal, which faded from view when he deactivated the doujutsu.

He could sense muffled chakra signatures in the floors below him still; in conjunction with its positioning, he reasoned it could not be for privacy - more likely a trap seal. He formed a clone and retreated back down the hallway as it advanced, allowing the Sharingan to swirl in his eyes once again. He turned back into the room and closed the door. No sooner had it clicked shut than a concussive blast tore down the hallway, rattling the door. After a moment, Itachi opened it and proceeded through the smoke once again.

A gaping hole yawned where the seal had been, the walls of either side cratered, and the ceiling dripped rock and dust. Itachi paused, straining his eyes into the particle-choked air, but saw nothing. He leapt over the hole and continued down the hallway. The silence settled heavily but for the whistle of wind through the window slots, unbroken by his noiseless footsteps.

He opened three more doors and found two storage rooms and a bathroom before reaching the opposite stairwell. Three steps down, the air changed, and he twisted sharply out of the way as an oversized kunai buried itself into the wall next to his head.

Clawed hands slammed out of the stone behind him, gripping him fast and immobilizing his limbs as they pulled him into the wall. He blinked and flipped the genjutsu on its original wielder, drawing out a prolonged scream from the kunoichi as the illusionary rock crushed her legs; in the same moment, he substituted a clone that splashed to the floor as the foremost shinobi stabbed it in the neck. He alighted behind the third shinobi, whose douton went wide as he jerked in surprise. A giant boulder crashed into the opposite wall, flushing a fourth shinobi out from behind it.

Suiton: Mizurappa. Itachi inhaled and blasted the entire team backwards, the burst of water hammering them relentlessly into the stairwell. It left behind only the drip of water and the blood rushing in his ears. He stepped forward, gathering a genjutsu behind his eyes. Two bodies lay broken on the stairs - the doton and genjutsu wielders.

A figure lunged through the wall beside him as if it were merely liquid, and Itachi dodged a kunai blade the length of his arm. He snagged the shinobi by the wrist as he flew past and slammed him into the opposite wall, squeezing until he was forced to drop the blade. The other man snarled, flipping a kunai out of his holster and hurling it underhanded at Itachi, who let go and stepped back to avoid it.

The shinobi drew a kunai in either hand and lunged. At the same time, the fourth shinobi materialized out of a shunshin at his back, already swinging a katana with the intent to behead him. Itachi unleashed his genjutsu, potent from the time and chakra spent building it, and both froze in their tracks as Itachi fueled a false battle that would end in both of their deaths. He skirted them both and continued down the hallway. By his estimate, the Hanabi-ha teams would commence their approach in a little under four minutes, and if there was a trap to be sprung, Itachi needed to be present in order to neutralize it.

He tripped two more trap seals - one that launched a flurry of shuriken and senbon, another that turned the floor to molten lava - and cleared the abandoned barracks before descending the stairs once more.

Two minutes. Itachi wove another genjutsu as he turned into the mess hall, casting it out before him like a net.

Immediately, he leapt up onto the ceiling to avoid the jets of water crashing to the floor from the side, piling unmoored tables against the far wall, and ran upside down as a barrage of kunai peppered his footsteps. He reached for his katana and leapt, corkscrewing down on a kunoichi who unsheathed her sword and slashed in one fluid movement. Itachi parried, bearing down on her, but her partner flashed behind him with his own blade upraised and he was forced to jump clear.

His eyes flickered to the side and he had half a second to substitute a clone, which was promptly buried under a douton slamming a hail of boulders into the ground. He created three more clones and slipped away from the battle to the rafters.

Itachi observed the team intently. The ninjutsu specialist coordinated fluidly with the kenjutsu specialists, spitting bullets of water when Itachi's clones evaded them. One hit a clone, pinning it to the ground, and a kunai from the fourth shinobi dispelled it before Itachi's second clone pounced, scoring him from sternum to hip. As he watched, a third swordsman vaulted through the window from the kitchen, beheading the clone.

Five shinobi. Not a squad of four - two jounin trios? Itachi's eyes darted to the side.

A kunoichi leered back at him, eyes half-hidden under kelp-green bangs. "Hello, traitor," she purred, and five bunshin bubbled into existence, surrounding him. " Dance of the Moonlight Crane ."

Itachi dropped from the rafters, but the bunshin followed, diving after him with blades drawn. He landed on a table in a crouch, willing two more clones into existence, and the three scattered as the kunoichi's clones landed among them in a flurry of steel.

Itachi blocked one blade with his own, but his riposte was batted aside by a second before it touched the clone. Movement flashed in the corner of his eye, and he leapt straight up as spikes of rock lanced up from the floor, then to the side as a handful of senbon hissed past. He alighted in the rafters and spat a Suiton: Sugadan . The ninjutsu user dodged, but one of the swordsman was slammed into the wall with a cry.

The green-haired kunoichi lunged over a table, cold intent in the glint of her eyes, and Itachi substituted himself across the room, burying his blade in the hapless long-rage specialist's back.

"Toguta!" cried the first swordswoman, drawing a kunai in her free hand and charging. The man choked and slid off his katana, and Itachi stepped into a short-range shunshin to avoid her.

The green-haired kunoichi's clones pounced on him in a flash, and he caught their blades on his. A sinkhole opened beneath him; Itachi leapt backwards and inhaled involuntarily as he plunged directly into a sphere of water that weighed his limbs and constricted his lungs. The kunoichi landed next to the clone that had captured him. "Gotcha," she whispered. Itachi felt the last of his clones dispel dispassionately.

The room, uniform and uncluttered at his first entry, bore the scars of their battle. Water puddled and dripped along the cracked floor. Blades protruded from broken rafters, and one shinobi knelt over the one Itachi had wounded. The first swordswoman cradled the head of the one he had killed in her lap.

Itachi watched passively beneath lidded eyes as the tallest swordsman stepped forward, twirling the hilt of his sword easily in one hand. Rage and malice festered in his eyes as he glanced around the room at his fallen teammates, and the green-haired kunoichi stepped back to give him room. "You're finished," the shinobi sneered. With a sharp thrust, he slammed his blade into the water prison, through bone and flesh alike into Itachi's chest.

"No," said Itachi, and opened his eyes, stepping out of his genjutsu.

The water vanished, the ceiling where the kunai had been embedded was smooth and unblemished. The first three shinobi stood frozen in their ambush positions, one clutching a wound that existed only in his mind; the fourth lay prone on the ground - dead. When he reached out, he sensed the chakra of the fifth in the far corner of the room, and the sixth yet in the kitchen. He glanced around, and each of the Kiri-nin met his eyes with horror in theirs.

One minute. "Let us begin," he said.

Jounin Chiaki, identification Hana-Shi-057, leader of the three incursion teams, skidded into the doorway and paused. Itachi deactivated his Sharingan at her approach and glanced up, sliding his katana out of the sixth shinobi, the green-haired kunoichi. He spared a quick look around at the rest of the room. Most of the tables had been shoved up against the edges of the room, but some still sat in neat rows. Bodies lay sprawled as if tossed by a child who no longer wanted to play, some in pools of blood and some not. Only a little water puddled in the center of the room; the ninjutsu user who had survived his genjutsu had spent too much chakra for an effective defense.

She eyed the room and then Itachi himself, standing unbloodied at the center of the carnage. "We've secured the base, uh, sir - ? Eight hostiles neutralized."

Itachi understood her confusion. He had identified himself as an operative rather than a captain, and operatives held an ambiguous position in the Hanabi-ha hierarchy - all Anbu ranked above the Guntai, and all captains ranked above the Shirei-bu, but depending on the shinobi, Anbu operatives could rank either above or below a jounin. He nodded. "Fourteen hostiles neutralized. Upper floors should be clear, but proceed with caution."

Eight neutralized, and no sign of a trap.

"Chiaki," he said, when she turned to go. "What of the battle outside?"

She hesitated. "We can't really tell what's going on inside the mist," she said. "Long range teams have eliminated a total of three shinobi when they left the mist and wounded another two who reentered."

"Understood," said Itachi, and Chiaki nodded awkwardly before vanishing into the hallway.

Where was the trap? Itachi stepped over the fallen shinobi and entered the hallway, where he passed the rest of Chiaki's team on his way to the next set of stairs. Indeed, the bottom floor was empty as the second Hanabi-ha team prowled up the stairs as he descended.

Three floors, and Itachi had yet to find the command center. In the ground floor hallway he encountered a training room, a weapons and supply room, another bathroom, and a front-facing sentry room, in which clustered the third incursion team, watching the mist intently.

He turned back out into the hallway and activated his Sharingan again for a closer examination, pacing back down towards the stairs. He paused outside the training room, his attention caught by a slight glow that vanished when he stopped. If he tilted his head just a little - there. A flicker of chakra, nearly hidden. Even a chakra-muting seal emitted chakra when active.

He stepped forward, pacing across the empty room until he reached the edge of the seal, then crouched and reached out. With a touch of chakra, he peeled it back to reveal a trapdoor and the much larger chakra lurking inside. From down the hall and the floors above, he sensed the alarmed agitation of the other teams' chakra as he dropped inside.

Explosive tags liberally wallpapered the covert command room, maps had been hastily torn from the walls and scattered across the floor, and in the center of the room, a Kiri shinobi bared his teeth at Itachi over hands already folded into the snake seal. "Boom, motherfucker," he snarled, and his chakra lit the room in a concussive blast, and even as Itachi flinched backwards, he could feel his very flesh ripping apart as the building collapsed in on top of them -

He tore himself out of the genjutsu, chest heaving as he struggled to regain his composure. In front of him, the Kiri shinobi's face froze in the rictus of a grimace, hands ready to activate the seal but his chakra dormant. Itachi walked forward, bearing down harder on the man's mind with his genjutsu. Carefully, he reached forward and beheaded him in one quick slash. The head fell one way, the body the other. With a silent sigh, he let his doujutsu fade once more.

"Good gods," breathed Chiaki behind him. Itachi turned to see her and her team crowding the opening in the ceiling. "That many explosive tags could have dropped the entire island into the sea."

Itachi nodded once in agreement, the vision of the future that could have been still lurking at the forefront of his mind.

"Suicide attack," said Chiaki's second grimly. "We can clean this up, sir."

"Go ahead," said Chiaki, casting one last glance into the room before leaning back. Her three team members dropped down, giving Itachi a wide berth as he slipped past them to leap out.

He caught up with Chiaki in the hallway, and she paused, half-turning. "I intend to assist my partner," he informed her.

The jounin nodded. "We have the base," she said. "I'll signal Nishizawa and let him know."

Itachi strode down the hallway, past the team still huddled in the sentry room, and walked straight out of the base. The wind buffeted him as he stepped foot outside, ruffling the dry, flattened grass as he stepped to the edge of the cliff. He paused for a moment, glancing over his shoulder, and caught sight of the Hanabi-ha teams perched on the outpost roof, watching, and another moving on the far side of the base.

He faced forward again, narrowing his eyes as he scrutinized the base of the cliff. Itachi crouched and leaped off the edge, flaring his chakra once sharply as he plummeted into the thick bank of mist coiled below.

Itachi did not bother to activate his Sharingan. It could not penetrate this mist, so there was no use. He landed with a light splash, having misjudged the distance to the surface with the lack of visibility, and immediately ghosted away from the site of impact. Zabuza's dominion was one of slow, deliberate movements, an unnaturally muffled silence, and oppressive, omniscient menace. Itachi slid the hilt of his sword into a backhanded grip and prowled forward.

His eyes darted to the side as they caught movement, and he forced himself not to tense as a figure loomed out of the mist. Zabuza's posture oozed satisfaction, and the blade of his katana dripped blood. "You're late, he growled, and his voice echoed. If he had not been standing in front of Itachi, he would have been hard-pressed to locate the source. "There are only two little rabbits left."

Itachi tilted his head apologetically. "You have this well in hand," he noted. "You do not need my assistance. Finish toying with your prey and end this."

Zabuza snorted and his grip on the mist loosened. "Meh. I was getting bored anyways. You can get one," he said magnanimously, and vanished into the thinning mist.

Itachi did not particularly care to 'get' one, but it seemed the fastest way to end this mission. He raised his katana grimly.

True to his word, he and Zabuza reached the welcoming muddy embrace of the base at 25-35W by the time the first stars bloomed in the infinite black. Gaara met them some forty meters out from the shore, regarding them birdlike with a tilted head. Itachi was not quite sure what the appropriate response here was, but fortunately, Zabuza had no such reservations.

"Hey, midget," he said gruffly. "Anyone else up?"

A pause. Gaara dipped his head in a slight nod.

"Shisui?" Another nod. "Anyone else?" He shook his head. "Cool," said Zabuza. "I'm beat. Have fun out here." He sauntered towards the island.

Itachi hesitated and reached out to pat Gaara's hair carefully before following the Swordsman.

Shisui did not rise at their approach, but he did set down the oiled cloth he'd been running over the blade of his tanto. "Good mission?"

Zabuza thumped down on his platform, yanking the mask off his face. "Yeah," he grunted, hooking it onto his belt. "Short and broody here foiled a suicide bomber."

Shisui coughed a surprised laugh, and Itachi frowned, reaching up to remove his own mask. "My height is within typical parameters for my age," he pointed out. "Yours is the abnormal one."

"Brat," Zabuza snapped halfheartedly.

"Settle down, children," said Shisui, eye twinkling gleefully. "Don't make me separate you."

Zabuza rolled his eyes. "Got anything to eat? That camp had jack shit."

"That camp had a serviceable soup containing salted pork and potatoes," Itachi corrected, though he had declined it as well.

"And charcoal," Zabuza muttered.

Shisui jerked his chin towards one of the other platforms, which now boasted three walls and a slanted roof. "Food supplies in there," he said. "Think the kids might have left some fish stew in the pot, but who knows? Naruto eats like a wolf in winter."

"That brat," Zabuza complained without venom, but slid off towards the supply platform anyways.

Wearily, Itachi raised his eyes to Shisui's, which reflected wry understanding back at him before movement caught his attention from the edge of his vision. "Ohaiyo, Sasuke," Itachi said quietly, watching his brother struggle upright.

"Aniki," Sasuke greeted, voice rough with sleep. "You're back."

"Aa," Itachi agreed. "The mission is over."

"I trained," Sasuke offered. "Shisui-nii helped me with the Sharingan." He paused hopefully. "Can I show you?"

Itachi hesitated. "Now?"

"Let your brother rest, Sasuke-kun," Shisui cut in kindly, and Sasuke's shoulders slumped.

"No, I don't mind," Itachi said, suddenly desperate for some sense of peace after the bloodshed of the past few days.

Shisui frowned up at him as he rose. "You ran I don't know how far after fighting I don't know how long and spending who knows how much chakra." He stopped and shook his head. "Just be careful," he said, instead of dissuading him.

Itachi widened his eyes slightly. "Of course," he said with just enough injury that Shisui rolled his visible eye. "Come, Sasuke."

Sasuke sprang up eagerly, tripping over Naruto in his haste, who rolled over and said something like, "Mushroom jungle buys midautumn turtle more sake thatch," before letting out a surprisingly quiet burp. Sasuke flushed, and Itachi strongly suspected he would have kicked his teammate if Itachi had not been present.

Itachi turned and led the way back out onto the water, stopping roughly halfway between the camp and where Gaara stood sentry, and faced his brother. "Show me what you have learned," he invited, and ignited the chakra to awaken his Sharingan.

An answering glow from Sasuke's eyes mirrored his, and he watched as his brother palmed a kunai. He charged, and Itachi let him come. He slipped to the side to avoid his first strike, but that too Sasuke could see and he twisted in a low kick meant to knock Itachi's legs from under him.

Of course, using the same doujutsu meant that Itachi could see the movements Sasuke intended to make as much as if not more than his brother could see his. This turned the spar into a choreographed dance, where each knew what the other would do some three to four moves in advance.

Sasuke's movements were fluid as he dodged Itachi's jab and retaliated with a jab - comfortable already with the foresight granted by the Sharingan. Itachi spared a moment for the fond pride that warmed his chest and then conspired to disturb his otouto's footing: he changed his mind.

The first time Sasuke stumbled, his brow furrowed. The second time, he lunged past Itachi, who had aborted a sidestep halfway instead of completing the step and parrying Sasuke's strike as he had originally intended. His eyes widened and then narrowed, and the tomoe in his eyes spun wildly as he forwent his next attack to crouch some four meters away from Itachi, watching him warily.

"The Sharingan shows you one future," said Itachi, allowing him the respite as he himself straightened. "To trust in it unconditionally is irresponsible and unwise."

Sasuke frowned thoughtfully and lunged in a burst of speed that Itachi's Sharingan had not predicted. He allowed himself a small smile - his brother was learning. The spar morphed into game of chess, an analysis of the could-be futures where either did not fight fully in the present but in the possibilities.

When Itachi felt the pull on his chakra reserves, he changed course abruptly and pulled back from the fight, raising his hand to call the fight to a stop. "Yuruse, Sasuke," he said, as his brother skidded to a halt, the bright glint in his eyes dimming slightly. "I cannot spare any more chakra."

Itachi's heart twisted as Sasuke's face fell, but his brother slid his kunai back into its holster. "I understand," he said. "Thank you for training with me, Aniki."

"Not at all," said Itachi. He turned back towards the camp, but Sasuke did not follow. He paused.

Sasuke jerked a thumb out across the water, where Gaara still stood motionless. "I'm going to go keep Gaara company," he said. "It's not really fair that he does all the guard rotations just 'cause he doesn't sleep."

"Good idea," said Itachi, slightly surprised despite himself. On impulse, he stretched out a hand and tangled it in Sasuke's hair just briefly before he left. "I will see you later."

Though Zabuza was still crashing around the food supplies remarkably quietly, Shisui had since retreated to one of the platforms clearly designated as sleeping quarters. Reminiscent of the quarters they had shared with Kakashi-taichou in Tetsu, the platform now boasted two raised racks that could comfortably hold two each. Shisui, wrapped in his sleeping bag, had laid claim to one on the top row. He had carried in Itachi's pack as well, and that sat neatly on the rack next to him.

Itachi removed his sandals before joining him, spreading his own sleeping bag to his cousin's steady breaths. He took pains to do so quietly, but Shisui rolled over nonetheless and cracked open his eye. "I did not mean to disturb you," Itachi said apologetically.

"Didn't," countered Shisui, his voice only a little sleep-rough. He watched Itachi's preparations through a slitted eye. "He's been waiting for you to do that," he informed Itachi.

Itachi slid himself into the folds of his sleeping bag. "To train him in the Sharingan?" he queried.

Shisui snorted. "No. Yeah. Sure."

Itachi blinked, but his cousin did not clarify, as was his wont.

He heaved a sigh. "These kids really look up to you, Itachi-kun," he said instead, the words half-slurred.

"I am aware," Itachi said blankly.

Shisui shook his head at him ruefully, and Itachi again felt the impression that he had missed his cousin's point. "Here. Got you something," he said, and fished something out of the blankets around him.

Itachi frowned at his outstretched hand and did not move. "Where did you put that?"

"Nowhere gross, you punk," Shisui grumbled. "C'mon take it."

Itachi proffered his hand obediently. "What is it?" he asked, examining it cautiously.

"Not much," said Shisui, rolling onto his back and draping an arm over his eyes. "I know you hate getting weapons and stuff on your birthday, so - happy sweet sixteen."

Itachi closed his fingers around it carefully, cradling its warmth in his hand. "Shisui," Itachi said seriously, and his cousin tilted his head to glance at him beneath heavy lids. "Thank you."