XXXXX
"So, Itachi-kun," Cat said, his arms tucked behind his head as he walked down the street, "do you want to do the report now, or wait until tomorrow or something?"
"I've already completed the summarized account of what transpired during the mission and am sound in both mind and body, thus delaying would be most unreasonable, if not treasonous."
"And there went my hope that you had developed your conversation skills," Kakashi intoned forlornly, walking alongside the ANBU team. Humor licked at his expression. "I had seen such potential while we traveled here, too..." He said dramatically, sniffling a bit.
"It is your own fault for fostering such implausible desires to begin with." Itachi kept his voice neutral and his face blank, carefully uncaring. He tactfully ignored how his teammates shared wry smirks between them.
"Eh, I like to think of it as an 'unattainable dream'." He smirked, before turning to look at his young friend. "Regardless, I must take my leave. You have much catching up to do with your team, and I saw you only a few months ago. It was enough to tide me over for a while, but do you need me to stay?" He waggled his eyebrows. "To hold your hand, or carry your luggage, Itachi-waitchi?"
Itachi glared, bristling at the hated nickname. "I rue the day that you met the Weasley twins," he hissed venomously. However, underneath the underneath, he was gladdened at the offer his old teacher gave him, to stick by for Itachi to adjust back into the ninja village, this time with all the emotions of one befitting his age. But he was no mere child, lost in the wide world for the first time, so the offer was declined. "Now go, you smelly dog, before I turn you into one." He positioned his hand over the pouch where the cherry wood wand was kept, threateningly.
Backing off with exaggerated pleading motions, the scarecrow ninja walked off in the general direction of his apartment, his nose already buried into his orange book.
"So, off to the Tower it is then," Yuu nodded decisively, as if it was upon his own order they were dealing on. His nose rose somewhat in a theatrically snooty manner, and he began to strut as he walked, leading the group. He probably would have maintained this airs all the way, had it not been for Dragon smacking him soundly on the back of his head.
Surprisingly, to Itachi, she didn't add a sharp comment to her violence, as had always been common before he left. He focused his attention to the pair, intently interested on how this familiar occurrence had changed in his absence.
Yuu yelped in surprised pain at the injury, and he turned a pouting, watery-eyed stare onto Shiina. The woman in question just snorted in disgust, rolling her eyes and turning away from the hurt puppy-dog look.
Cat, however, wasn't deterred. Focusing the whole of his attentions on the female member of the party, he shamelessly flirted and teased, getting right up into her personal space. Instead of turning him into a red smear on the concrete—which Itachi knew for certain she could do, if she ever caught the ninjutsu specialist—she just returned his comments with snarky ones, accompanied by much exasperations and snorts. When a particularly brash remark came, she actually blushed and shoved him away, but not hard enough to send him stumbling and tripping.
Itachi was fascinated.
"Amazing, isn't it," Hawk said, to Itachi's right. "How much they changed since you've been gone."
Itachi nodded slowly, "How long have they been like this?"
"Oh, depends. They came together for the first time three months after you left. It wasn't something either of them were expecting or accepting of at the time, so they ignored one another for the next month and a half—you have no idea how bothersome that was during missions and training sessions. However, once they finally accepted it, the relationship was rocky at best. They broke up after only a handful of weeks, but their relationship smoothed out over the course of the next month or so, until it finally progressed back into dating, and such it has remained since."
"Ah, I see." Itachi paused a moment, not moving his gaze, then silently he raised his palm to his tactical expert. Hiaji sighed before fishing out his wallet.
"I had hoped you'd forgotten," he remorse said in remorse as he placed the total amount of the betting pool into his Captain's hand, as it had been his duty to keep track of it.
"'Grudges and vengeance may be lost to the wind, but money owed is money due.'"
The Hyuuga smiled humorously, "I never knew you were one to quote the 'great' Nidaime Kazekage." The very Kage who was disowned upon being found wearing a dress and makeup and entertaining... interesting guests.
"'Even a stone jutsu can find its use while one is out on the ocean,'" Itachi quoted airily, this time from the much gruffer Sandaime Kazekage, who brutally overthrew the Nidaime to get the position. However, it was rumored that he, too, went to the Nidaime party's.
Hawk laughed.
Soon enough, they were finally upon the Hokage tower. It looked exactly the same as when Itachi had left over nine months previous, and looking upon it, he suddenly let out a breath he didn't know he had held. It was over; he was back in Konoha. There was to be would be no more wizards; no more moving staircases; no more ghosts, werewolves, living pictures, flying sports equipment, rats that transformed into men, potions, or crystal balls. They were gone, and he was home.
Home.
For the first time in all that he could remember, he felt as if he could legitimately use the word. The knowledge left him almost breathless, and almost scared. He knew he shouldn't be so deeply affected by such a thing, a mere word, but he couldn't truly shake the feeling.
Before he knew it, he was standing before the Sandaime, at attention, and was delivering his report. His team stood behind him in exactly similar identical poses, masks carefully placed over their faces. Sasuke, though not required to do so, was mimicking his brother, standing at his left side, and answering the questions asked of him to his best ability.
As his body and mouth dealt with the somewhat lengthy summary of the occurrences during the mission, so that the Hokage can deal with the much longer detailed scroll at urgency rather than be immediately swamped by it out of necessity to finish off the operation the necessity of finishing off the operation, Itachi's thoughts wandered to the differences and similarities the old wizard and the old ninja had in common.
The thing they had most in common was the strange reverence each of them evoked for their kind, grandfatherly ways. Both of them could be trusted to love and protect your children for a night, if not longer. Both of them expressed aged, time-tried and true abilities of large proportions. Both of them, despite their age, dealt with life with a keen and firm mind, set to the greater good of their chosen residence.
And yet, they were not carbon copies of the other. Dumbledore, for one, would not even think about taking 'children from their mother's teat' and teaching them how to kill and destroy. Sandaime, however, would not even think of sending his forces out into war without the necessary training. The wizard thought the war should be fought only by those old enough to know the entirety of which they dealt with. Sarutobi thought anyone with the ability should fight for those who could not. The Headmaster believed emotion was essential to fighting the darkside. The ninja knew that emotions only hindered a battle.
Itachi would kill Dumbledore before ever touching a hair on the Sandaime. And yet he would first crawl, broken and bleeding, before the Headmaster for refuge rather than Sarutobi.
"...And there were no complications on the way back to Konoha," he finished crisply, completing his brief summary.
"And have you the ending payment?"
Wordlessly, Itachi retrieved the sack from his waist band and tossed it onto the table, making it slide to a perfect stop right before his leader.
The Sandaime looked neither nervous nor impressed with the tossing trick like so many wizards would have, and indeed even a genin could perform it without blinking. Casually, he picked up the bag, opened it, and upturned it onto the desk. With a clatter, a barrage of multi-colored jewels spilled across the wooden exterior, dancing away as their perfectly cut exteriors struck the hard surface. No one in the room twitched or moved a muscle as the ninja leader almost absently counted out the jewels. Nodding to himself as he completed the count, Sandaime took out a piece of paper from the left side of his drawer, scribbled a number on it, marked it with his seal, and handed it to the ninja before him.
"Here is your note for your services, Itachi-kun." He smiled humorously, and shared a joke only the ANBU present would understand, "Don't spend it all in one place."
Bowing sharply at the waist, Itachi took his payment. He tucked the piece of paper down into his vest, pressed up against the flesh of his chest, the safest place for it. After all, it was enough money guaranteed—in cash—to buy a small house.
Then, in time with everyone standing in the room, including his brother, he bowed once more to their leader before sharply turning away and almost marching out of the room. After all, the Hokage was a very busy man and didn't need to waste time on the useless pleasantries civilians partake in.
It was only when they had left the tower, and were walking once again in the sweltering heat, that he realized he had nowhere to go. He had been told that the Uchiha complex was completely shut off to the public since the incident, and though a cleaning had been done of the area, Itachi was intelligent and sensitive enough to realize it was best if he and his brother avoided the complex, at least for now. He had not been given an apartment—such was only done so if the ninja returning in question's previous residence had been destroyed, and there were no other alternatives. The Uchiha complex, while uninhabitable to any sane person, still qualified as a livable by Konoha's council, so such was not provided. So, that left picking a hotel and moving in until an apartment or home could be found. But where to go?
However, his team stepped up immediately and offered a solution. "Come on, Itachi. We've set up a Welcome Home party at my house. Free drinks and food already there for everyone," Cat said, beginning to walk in the direction of his apartment.
Grateful for the destination, Itachi began following with nary a pause, planning on asking with the intent of asking to borrow the phone to reserve some rooms at a hotel later. He did, however, eye his team suspiciously. "Presumptuous. What would you have done with everything had I been the cold bastard I was before?"
Looking momentarily shocked by the admission from his leader, Yuu smirked almost hesitantly. "Turned it into a 'Why Does Itachi Hate Us?' party, of course."
Itachi shook his head, but couldn't help the small tug of his lips. Merlin, how he missed his home.
Soon, everyone was in the spacious bachelor's pad that was Yuu's home. Located on the upper corner of an apartment duplex, it had a wonderful view of the wall belonging to the neighboring building. However, some 'unknown' person had taken it upon themselves to graffiti the wall to resemble a beautiful view of a beach. The fact that it was best viewed from Cat's two-wall sliding glass door patio was completely disregarded.
They could never prove it, anyway.
So, regardless of random acts of vandalism on the part of the apartment owner, the place had been set up for a perfect Welcome Home slash Why Does Itachi Hate Us party. There was food, balloons, decorations, party favors, drinks, and a large stash of very expensive sake, chilling in the freezer.
Having never been beyond the entryway, Itachi was given a brief tour of the place along with his brother. Brief, meaning they stood in the living room while Cat pointed to various things, including the rooms down the hall. Dragon, being the only girl in the room, rolled her eyes and muttered something that sounded suspiciously derogatory towards the male psyche.
But, nevertheless, the 'tour' was completed with no further hassle or wasted effort, and the party began. Drinks were served, music was turned on, food was dug into, and the game console was started up with a monotypic fighting game—Sasuke promptly took it over and began ascending levels, oblivious to the world around him. However, the rest of the group munched on some wonderfully fresh sushi Itachi had missed so much, and during the meal, a surprise was brought out.
"Happy Birthday, Itachi-kun!" his team yelled happily, revealing the frosted cake. Itachi nearly choked on the sashimi he was eating.
"I beg your pardon?" he choked out; hand on his chest to help force down the tuna in the correct pipe.
"Don't tell me you've forgotten!" Yuu cried teasingly, before a settling of humiliation came over his features, "...Or, crap, did we get the wrong day? June the ninth, right?"
Clearing his throat, now fish free, Itachi almost tiredly replied, "Yes, it is."
"Then all's good and done! Man, I was worried there, for a second. That'd be embarrassing."
Itachi frowned, "But today is only the third."
Hiaji frowned right back from his spot across the table. "I assure you, Itachi, that today is the ninth." It was unlike the leader he knew to lose track of the date over a few measly days of travel. Just how much had that foreign school affected him?
"Hm." Blinking, Itachi fingered his lower lip as he counted back to the start of Hogwarts School year. "I was away from Konoha exactly 279 days. My mission started on September first. Even allotting for the twenty-four hour period it took to reach my destination, to this date, it would only be June the third."
His team was quiet for a moment, each exchanging a glance. Hiaji's frowned turned inward as he, too, counted back the days. "...Yes, it has been 279 days exactly." His face softened back to its normal serenity and he turned back to his captain, "However, today is undoubtedly the ninth, and so your mission must have started on August the twenty-sixth." The team, of course, had not been told of their leader's semi-permanent departure until well after the fact, when they were assigned to patrol under a stand-in member.
Itachi's brows furrowed slightly, "No, I assure you, it started on September first. At Hogwarts, it is tradition to start the school year on the first, no matter what day that is, so I am certain of the date."
"Well," Shiina spoke up from her spot, munching on some chips and dip, "are you sure the dates are the same in both places? I mean, six days isn't a lot of difference, and who knows how backwards those foreigners are."
Both blinking owlishly, Hiaji and Itachi turned and smirked over at one another, almost embarrassed, but taking note of the humor. The simplest answer is most often the correct one, went the English saying.
So, the newly realized new fourteen year old recieved a slice of cake after he diligently blew out the 'magically appearing' candles. It wasn't too bad, he had to admit. Must have been another professional buy—or a box cake—since none of his team had any skills in baking, and it was quite good.
Eventually, everyone either finished before making their way to the couch, or grabbed some more to take with them (coughYuucough). After a few rounds of watching the surprisingly adept preteen punch and kick his way through various opponents, a slight argument between Yuu and Shiina over the correct way to throw someone against the ring's walling after slamming them onto the ground, a contest was set up.
Surprisingly, to himself at least, Itachi wasn't the best at the game, or even second. That coveted spot went to Shiina, then Yuu. Itachi came next, followed by Sasuke, and Hiaji brought up the confused end. No matter how many games the eldest watched, or played, he never could seemingly hit the right buttons at the right time to get his desired affects, and it left him in a state of bewilderment. Hyuuga were, after all, the masters of finger movements and hand-eye coordination required for the Gentle Fist style. Thankfully, at least the calmness that went hand in hand with the Byakugan bloodline never left Hawk's person...
"ARGH!" ...Or maybe not.
"Haha! You can't beat me, you can't beat me, nah-nah-nah!" Sasuke cheered in triumph once again. He was ecstatic over beating one of his brother's ANBU teammates so badly, and he relished the feeling.
"Sasuke-chan," Hiaji turned a slightly madly gleaming eye on the youngest in the room, "I challenge you to another match."
"Again?" Surely, after the sixth time, you'd think he'd just give up already.
The gleam glittered almost dangerously. "Yes."
"Er, ok." Apparently not. Oh well. "Prepare to have your butt beat again!"
"I assure you, it will not be like that," The controller in his hands creaked ominously as his grip tightened.
Itachi, from his seat on the plush leather chair, gave a small sigh as he continued to watch his tactician expert get his ass handed back to him by a nine year old. Well, it was a good mark for his brother, at least. Silently, he watched as Shiina, perched almost precariously on the couch's arm rest, gave occasional pointers for her game-challenged teammate.
Yuu, leaning against the back of Itachi's chair, smirked at the sight. "I can just see the Hyuuga clan's reaction to their precious ANBU member getting trumped by an Academy student."
Itachi nodded slightly in agreement.
"Hope he doesn't break my game controller, though."
"Hn."
"If he does, he buys me a new one, dammit."
They stayed in companionable silence for a while, each thinking along their own lines of thought. Then, seemingly randomly at random, Yuu spoke up again. "You do realize you and Sasuke can stay here for as long as you need. Or, if you'd prefer, you can bunk with Shiina or Mr. Frustrated over there. But, as she hasn't seen her floor in over three months, and he lives with his entire extended family in a single building, my place is probably the best choice."
Ironically, the youngest recorded ANBU captain had been contemplating just which long-term residential hotels would be best to stay at until a house or apartment could be secured for permanent use. Silently, he turned to see Yuu still watching the other team members bicker, not looking at him. Itachi followed the gaze and silently viewed those he was in charge of, for some reason surprised by the offer.
"Yes," he finally replied, just as Hiaji lost—again—and stood up, challenging the smirking child again. "That is the best choice."
Yuu looked down at him then, grinning a Cheshire grin. Itachi returned his smile with one of his own, and then they turned back to their teammates once more.
XXXXX
"Good night, Mr. Malfoy."
The door had shut with an echoing click, he was certain. Draco wasn't too sure what happened after that, but the next thing he knew, he was staring up at his ceiling, watching the light of predawn crawl across the roof from the high, tiny window his dorm room had. He had stayed up the entire night, his body ached for sleep, but he wasn't tired. He couldn't fall asleep. His mind was both racing with thoughts, and curiously still, as if all activity was covered by a thick, protective blanket. Occasionally a thought would peak through, but it'd not last more than heartbeat before being washed away by the general muddiness.
"Er, M-Malfoy?" A voice stuttered next to his ear, and he turned to see a nervous looking third year there, poking through his partially open curtain. He blinked at the small tanned boy, all dark, mousy brown hair and big glasses, and remembered that he had been chosen to be the 'honored' morning alarm for Draco again. He was a geek—a foreigner, stuttered so much he was barely understandable, was smaller than most, and was almost never seen without a book plopped open in his lap. He was always up early, and no one important really liked him all that much, so he was continuously picked for the alarm.
"Yeah?" His voice was almost a croak, gravely tumbling past his lips. For the life of him, he couldn't remember this child's name, and yet he had been awoken by him almost since he was assigned to help with the Thestrals in place of his Care Of class.
"I-It's t-time to ge-ge-get up." Edward? Eliz? Edison? It had to be something with an E...
He cleared his throat, mindful not to wake his dorm mates—not that he could overcome their combined snores. "What's your name?"
"B-Brian Wh-Wh-Whitehorse," he stuttered, surprised at the question.
"Oh." He was wrong about his name, and oddly he felt depressed over it. He cleared his throat again, "Well, thanks for waking me." Regardless, he laboriously sat up on his bed, and realized he had spent the entire night in his school uniform, on top of the covers.
"Whitehorse," he suddenly called before the small boy could escape through the door on the opposite side of the room.
Freezing like a mouse caught in the plain sight of a cat, Brian slowly turned back around. "Y-Yes, M-M-Malfoy?"
"Why are you always up so early?" Draco eased his legs over the side of his bed, placing his socked-feet against the cold stone.
Eyes impossibly wide, magnified by the glasses he wore, he stared in complete shock at the prefect. "M-My family are f-f-farmers. I-I'm use to it."
"What do you do, after you've gotten me up?"
Wary of the sudden conversation after so long of nothing but terse curses and gruff commands, he kept a hand on the door, in case he needed to flee in an instant. "N-Normally I just s-sit an-and read. S-sometimes I-I do homework."
On impulse, without even a conscious thought, Draco asked, "Would you like to come with me to help with the Thestrals instead?"
Somehow, the eyes grew in size. "R-Really?!" he nearly whispered, his voice filled with excitement.
He shrugged, surprised but not upset for his random request. "Yeah, sure."
"S-Sure I will!" the boy gasped, suddenly much closer and almost vibrating with anticipation. "M-My family raises m-magical horses! W-We came h-h-here because we c-c-couldn't get a U-U-Unicorn l-license in A-America. W-We t-t-try to ge-get all the m-magical horses kn-known, b-b-but we've ne-never had a Th-Thestral b-before!"
"Well, go get ready, and I'll meet you in the common room. You'll need an older robe, because it can get—" Draco blinked at the child-sized white cloud that remained where Brian once stood, "—messy." He sighed and stood, going to his trunk to get his work clothes. He didn't know why he suddenly invited the Little Mouse to his chore. He wasn't even sure if it was allowed. In fact, he could get into trouble for it—trying to 'pass off' his task onto someone else. The kid was weird, stuttered, and slept with a... a 'Dream Latcher' above his bed, or whatever they were called. He grumbled quietly to himself as he stomped on his work boots.
And, for no apparent reason at all, he started to laugh softly.
XXXXX
So here you all go; take this, dead-fic!