Akira walked to Kaede's with a spring in her step, trying with great effort to hide her joy as she talked with Kaname and Eri. The sun shone brightly on the way to Kaede's tower, giving the surrounding forest a vibrant glow to reflect Akira's emotions.
She could not wait to begin researching with Kaede that afternoon. The only downside would be keeping this from Kaname and Eri, but not because she didn't trust them. Rather, she'd made a promise to Itachi not to tell anyone else, and his trust was not something she wanted to lose.
Again, today's lesson passed with relative ease, but this time Akira actually managed to retain more information with much of her defeatist attitude gone. She'd brought along all of her notes on Itachi, concealed in her shoulder bag behind her other school-related books, as well as a few extra tests she'd managed to run last night: a sketch of the current condition of Itachi's lungs according to her byakugan and a blood sample, much to Itachi's chagrin.
"Staying late again today, Akira?" Eri inquired, gathering up her notes while Kaname did the same.
"Sorry, guess all this is just not making sense to me!" Akira laughed nervously. "See you later?"
"If you must," Kaname said, her expression more suspicious than Akira would have liked. "Are you sure you're alright?"
"Not to worry. See you guys tomorrow!"
"You didn't tell them?" Kaede inquired once her teammates left.
Akira shook her head. "I promised my patient I wouldn't. He was displeased enough to know you were helping me, which I appreciate by the way."
"He sounds like a prideful man."
Lavender eyes rolled. "You have no idea."
Akira headed home that that evening around dinnertime, but the spring in her step was long gone. She needed to get home. She needed to talk to Itachi.
She discovered the Uchiha in the study reading some of her old textbooks on strategy and weaponry this time, topics in which he was definitely more knowledgeable than her. With a friendly wave, she made her presence known as she entered the room.
He sat in his usual manner near the edge of the sofa, despite being its only occupant. One leg rested sideways on the other with his hands positioned so that one was holding the book he read while the other rested on his right knee.
She knew he detected her, despite not looking up.
"How did it go today?" he inquired.
Akira stared back at him wordlessly.
Sensing the mood, Itachi closed the book and laid it aside before standing up to face her.
"Is it worse than expected?" he finally said. For once, he saw no point in being indirect.
Akira nodded.
"How much time do I have left?"
"A year at most, from what we can tell."
Itachi silently stared, waiting for her to continue.
"We may be able to lengthen your time. Double it even."
Appearing pleased with this much, Itachi inquired, albeit it dubiously, "Any chance at a complete recovery?"
"Not that we can see. I'm sorry."
It took every ounce of self-control Akira had to keep her voice from cracking. Nonetheless, she tried to reassure, "It's not set in stone, though. We could be mistaken or missing something or maybe—"
"Akira," Itachi silenced her with a surprising gentleness to his voice. "It's all right. I know."
Biting her lip, Akira jumped forward and embraced him before she could think too hard and convince herself otherwise.
How was Itachi unfazed by all this?
It was one thing to die from wounds on a mission or in the midst of a fight, but this was a terminal illness. As tacky as it sounded, it just wasn't fair.
"I don't need forever, Akira," Itachi murmured, and she felt the soft touch of Itachi's arms surrounding her. "I just need a little more time than that."
Akira smiled into Itachi shoulder, choking back her tears.
"Don't give up yet, Itachi," she murmured, "We're not finished."
From that day on, Akira ceased merely researching when she found the time. She returned to working tirelessly at producing Itachi's new medicine. It was like the ordeal with his eyesight all over again, except this time a true matter of life and death. And she wanted to save him—she wanted to save him so badly.
Kaede-sensei again noted her sudden shift in attitude, remarking that Akira should really "Make up her mind" about whether this would work or not. Akira just smiled and kept reading as she made lists of potential new mixtures to try against the seal.
The after-class work lasted for the entirely of that week and into the next, but, even with her sensei's help, it was difficult. Nothing they did seemed to completely work, today was Friday and neither of them particularly wanted to work on this for another weekend.
Thankfully, her friends had stopped asking questions at this point. They probably assumed Kaede had resorted to privately tutoring her on the material, but Akira held some pride in how wrong they were.
"Akira, I'm going to the stock room for some extra supplies," Kaede stated, holding up one of the empty herb bottles. Akira sat at one of the desks in the lab, intently pouring over a chakra microscope. She offered a "Hn" of acknowledgement, but didn't bother to look up as Kaede left the room.
We're close. We have to be! They'd figured out that Itachi's disease was autoimmune, which explained why it wasn't contagious. For whatever reason, his white blood cells were attacking his lungs, and, like every disease out there, stress only made it worse. She and Kaede had collaborated on ingredients that helped slow the process, but if they wanted something to make a long-term difference, they needed something stronger.
Letting out a frustrated sigh, Akira leaned away from the microscope and pushed back her chair.
They were definitely missing something, but what could possibly be strong enough to slow the effects of a rapidly progressing disease like this? The only thing that had seemed to help in the slightest when Itachi had been coughing was her healing chakra!
Akira paused. Her index finger brushed across her chin in a thinking pose.
What a second... Was that even possible? Could it work?
Her left hand lit up with green healing chakra.
In the least, it was worth a shot.
"Itachi?" Akira tiptoed into the house, knowing how late it was. By now, it was customary for her to be home after dark, but it was past midnight.
She removed her shoes at the door and headed through the kitchen and dining room toward the hallway leading to her bedroom and the study.
Maybe he's asleep. It would make sense, but where was he? She hadn't seen him near the door.
"Akira?" a familiar deep voice sounded behind her. She turned around, knowing better than to ask where he'd been, and silently hoped the bags under her eyes weren't too prominent.
"I'm back." She offered a small wave and smiled tiredly.
"Awfully late." He looked suspicious in his own Itachi-like way, but Akira held no qualms about where she'd been.
"We were packing capsules," Akira stated. Itachi raised an eyebrow and, barely able to contain herself, Akira reached into the bag slung across her shoulder.
"As promised." She grinned fully this time as she offered the Uchiha an opaque brown bottle with a pale cap.
Curious, Itachi unscrewed the lid to examine the capsules inside and, with a slight bend of his slender fingers, maneuvered one of the pills into the palm of his hand.
"Chakra?" Even with its encasement, the capsule glowed green.
"Mixed in with the other ingredients for extra strength," she explained. "It's mine."
Although he didn't say it, Itachi looked impressed. Replacing the pill back into the bottle, Itachi screwed the cap shut.
"That's all we have for today, but Kaede-sensei and I should be putting together another bottle tomorrow, just in case something happens," Akira added.
"Recommended dosage?"
"Just two a day. Evening and night."
He wasn't smiling, but Akira knew Itachi was pleased. She'd upheld her end of the bargain, and now Itachi had the extra time he needed.
"Thank you, Akira."
Her lips formed a playfully wry expression. "Careful. You've been saying that an awful lot lately."
This time, he actually smiled back.
"So no hot, steamy romance yet?" Kaname remarked with a smirk, lightly elbowing Akira in the ribs as they walked to class the following morning. Three days had passed since Akira had given Itachi the medicine, and so far, he said it was helping.
By now, Akira had stopped blushing at her friends' teasing and allowed herself a sigh instead.
"I don't know what's keeping him here now," she admitted. "We'll see."
Itachi knew Akira was back when he heard a string of coughs break the silence of the formerly empty house.
After closing the book he'd been reading, Itachi got up to check on her. When he arrived in the kitchen, she was already starting dinner.
"Hey, Itachi," she greeted. "How's the medicine working today?"
"Fine," he assured. "You asked me that this morning."
"True. But it could change between then and now." She was making soup. The pot had already been removed from the cabinet above the stove and she now alternated between the refrigerator and pantry to procure the necessary ingredients.
Just as she brought out two cans, she sneezed and then started coughing again, dropping both objects she had been holding.
Swiftly catching the cans before they hit the ground, Itachi replaced them on the counter and positioned a hand on her shoulder before she could do any more.
"It would be wise for you to rest." By the look in her eye, he could tell she had a nasty headache, too. This morning her voice had sounded congested and by now it was much worse. All the late nights she'd endured researching for his sake were finally catching up with her.
"I'm fine," she assured, knocking away his hand. "Besides, dinner won't make itself, and this stuff takes a long time to make."
She walked away to fetch something in the far pantry, but as she did so, her step wavered. Midway next stride, she faltered even more, and Itachi could tell she was about to faint.
"Akira!" Itachi rushed forward to catch her. She slumped against him, her back colliding with his shoulder before he gently lowered her to the floor.
Keeping one arm behind the Hyuuga girl's back to steady her, Itachi used his free hand to check her temperature. Heat radiated from her skin to the back of his hand. She was worse than this morning.
She coughed slightly, but her consciousness did not return.
Sensing the futility, Itachi positioned his free hand beneath the Hyuuga girl's legs and hoisted her off the floor. He carried her into what was technically her room rather than the study, knowing she would be far more comfortable in her own bed rather than lying on a couch.
To help with the fever, Itachi retrieved a cloth from beneath the sink in Akira's bathroom and ran it under cold water. He ventured back out into her room where she lay on the bed, still unconscious. Placing the cloth on her forehead, Itachi felt her temperature again and then took a seat near the edge of the bed and waited.
He waited a whole half an hour before she finally opened her eyes, blinked a few times, and sat up, the cloth on her forehead sliding down her face.
"Wha… what happened?" she stuttered, confused. She stared at the damp cloth in her lap.
"You fainted."
"Dammit," Akira swore and laid back down on the soft pillows, replacing the cloth on her forehead. She turned her head toward Itachi. "Did you carry me all the way here?"
He didn't answer, but she knew. Her pale fingers brushed across the cloth on her forehead.
"Thanks," she managed.
"You're welcome," he replied shortly. He remained unaccustomed to the concept of being thanked, although he was getting better at saying it.
"Where did you learn to take care of a sick person?" Akira inquired, laughing at the irony of it all. "Usually our roles are reversed."
"I did have a younger brother once," he reminded, almost to himself. There were many times when Sasuke had been sick and Itachi had taken care of the boy since their parents were almost always busy. The same had been true during the boy's infancy. He'd been especially careful not to let his brother wake up alone, as Itachi had been forced to do many times growing up.
"Oh, right," Akira recalled as she tucked both her hands beneath the covers for extra warmth. "He must have been a very lucky brother."
"Not entirely." With that, Itachi stood up to leave the room. "You need your rest, Akira." And he didn't want to talk about Sasuke anymore.
"Fine," Akira mumbled, closing her eyes. She coughed a few more times.
Despite it being afternoon, Akira did not wake up until much later that evening, and by then, she merely glanced at the time, looked out the window and went back to sleep.
The following day, Itachi was the one to explain to Akira's friends that she was ill and would not be attending classes that day. Her friends nodded in understanding and Kaname made sure to demand that he "Take good care of her!" while they were away.
"She just needs rest." He hoped.
Two days later, she was well enough to attempt going to classes, and she returned later that afternoon looking tired, but not faint. The most she had left was a minor headache and a stubborn cough.
"You should really take some cough medicine," Itachi remarked as she hacked another string of throat-retching coughs. She glared at him. "It may help."
"Don't have any," she replied curtly. "I don't get colds very often."
"Hn." That was certainly odd. This girl had more plants and herbs than he could count, but no cough medicine?
"I suppose Kaname and Eri could get me some, but I need to go—cough cough—grocery shopping anyway," she continued, not skipping a beat.
"Right this moment?"
"I'm—cough cough—well enough!" she countered.
"Right."
"Well, then what do you suggest? We're out of soy sauce, shampoo, and probably a few other things I'm not remembering."
"You're in no condition to go anywhere, Akira."
"Then why don't you come with me?" she suggested. "You haven't seen the village since the hanabi festival."
Itachi hesitated. Would it really be wise to show his face in public again? He thought back to Akira fainting, and the slight, momentary panic he had felt. And the coughing—he knew only too well what it felt like to cough uncontrollably.
But what if someone recognized him? Was he willing to risk Akira's safety for that?
"Fine. As long as we're not too long." He hoped not to regret this. But how mistaken he was.
The air of the Whirlpool Village's market was cool and crisp, smelling of restaurant food and autumn leaves.
I've been here over a month, Itachi realized. For any normal person it wasn't long, but for him, S ranked criminal and ninja extraordinaire, to remain in one place for that long was unbelievable.
Despite her cold, Akira walked around just fine. She bought things here and there from this stand and that stand, using a list as accountability. At the moment, he was just along for the ride.
"Itachi!" Akira's voice broke him out of his thoughts. She stood a good ten yards away waving her arms. His way filled with a bustle of villagers and a few shinobi he didn't recognize. "Come on, I don't want to lose you!"
I can sense your chakra, Itachi mentally countered, but held his tongue, reminding himself why he had come. From then on, he followed a little more closely, trying to honor the girl's wishes.
Thankfully, no one verbally paired them together as a couple this time, but he could tell by the looks people gave him that they presumed as much.
"Here, hold this," Akira said, and, before he could comment, she thrust four new shopping bags into his hands. While he adjusted his grip on the bags, Akira whipped out her list. "All right, we've got all the foodstuffs as well as soap and cough medicine, so…" she trailed off, catching Itachi's gaze, "I guess we're ready to go back then!"
"I'm amazed you said all that without coughing," Itachi remarked.
Cough cough
Spoke too soon, Itachi mentally sighed. "Lead the… way…" Itachi trailed off. A chakra presence flicked to life on his radar—a presence he hadn't felt in a long time.
"Itachi?" Akira looked at him questioningly, but for once Itachi's attention was not focused on the Hyuuga girl, but rather on a mysterious figure trailing a good distance away from her.
The figure was tall, standing a head and then some above the the crowd. A straw hat sat atop his head with paper streamers surrounding the brim, covering the man's face, except for small glimpse of slitted silver eyes.
As he walked, the tail and sleeves of his cloak trailed behind him—a black cloak decorated with red clouds outlined in white. A large neckband adorned the top of the uniform and also concealed most of the figure's neck and face. And, most obviously of all, a giant sword adorned the man's back, making every other shinobi's weapon in the marketplace seem like cookware.
Itachi couldn't believe his eyes, even with all their improvements.
It was Kisame.
As a precaution, Itachi had cloaked his chakra upon leaving the house. Not completely, because it would be far too obvious of his hiding if he were walking around with no presence. Rather, he'd made sure to lessen it, as to throw off any potential sensors who may recognize him. But Kisame knew his chakra, and he knew it well.
Itachi's eyes darted about his surroundings. He always tried to be aware of them, in case the time arose to plot some method of escape. As an S ranked criminal and especially a member of Akatsuki, this was standard. Approximately two meters back they'd passed an alley way. There wasn't much time, and he couldn't let Kisame see them. Not here, not now.
"Itachi!" Akira raised her voice, breaking the Uchiha out of his thoughts. "What's wrong?"
Without explanation, Itachi shifted all the shopping bags to one hand and seized Akira's wrist with the other. She fought back.
"Itachi—"
"Just trust me," he silenced and began to drag her back to the alley way, all the while subtly glancing back and forth between his path and Kisame's location and using his peripherals so as not to turn his head.
Still confused, Akira followed his gaze. She, like many of the other villagers, could not help but stare at Kisame. Even with his blue skin and shark-like features covered up, his mere height caused the Akatsuki to stick out.
"Itachi, his cloak," Akira breathed as he continued to usher her on. "It's like…"
"Mine, yes." He finished, now focusing fully on the area in front of them. Finally dodging the last villager, an elderly bald man in loose clothes moving at a snail's pace, Itachi disappeared with Akira into the alleyway.
"What the hell is going on?" Akira demanded.
Itachi paid her no attention, his eyes remaining glued to Kisame. Undoubtedly, the man had sensed him, despite Itachi snuffing out his chakra mere seconds after detecting him.
"Itachi…" Akira was about to make a scene. He could hear it in her voice. He had to do something fast.
Confused could only begin to describe Akira's emotions. One second Itachi was his normal, moody-albeit-somewhat-sweet self, and the next he acted like a fugitive. Clearly it had something to do with the tall man with enormous chakra, but what? What the hell was going on?
Akira readied her lungs to scream. She was now about to stand here and cower like some silly victim. But, before she could get out so much as a syllable, an odd sensation cut her off. A soft, wet but inviting presence quieted her lips.
It took a second to register that Itachi had just kissed her, using not his hand, but his mouth to silence her.
At first, Akira couldn't bring herself to move. She'd never expected anything like this, especially not from Itachi. He'd lived alone with her for nearly five weeks, and he picked now of all times to sexually assault her?
She tried fighting him. At some point, he'd dropped the shopping bags and now pinned both her hands against her chest. Akira knew she stood no chance of out-muscling him, but dammit she was going to try! Muffled gasps escaped her lips as she squirmed, struggling to regain control of her wrists and, more importantly, her mouth, but she couldn't. She wasn't going anywhere, unless Itachi wanted her to.
What unnerved her the most, however, was Itachi's eyes. Not the color, and not even the expression, but the way he kept them glued on the tall man, waiting, more patiently than she would have liked, for him to walk out of sight.
An odd emptiness lingered when his lips left hers. She had felt his body pressed against hers before during training and of course that one accidental time in the bathroom, but never quite like that. Their lips had never touched.
I didn't actually enjoy that, did I? Akira felt disgusted at even entertaining the idea. She'd certainly had boys interested in her before, but she'd never kissed one of them.
Only more confused, she desperately searched the Uchiha's eyes for answers. All she got was an offset stare, still in the direction of the tall man whose presence she didn't even feel anymore. All she could think about was Itachi's weight pressed against her.
The trance broke when he looked back at her. Somehow, she could tell it hadn't been his intent to kiss her. She couldn't really explain how, she just knew. Whoever's fault it was—hers, Itachi's, the tall man's or whatever—that didn't change the fact that it had happened, and she was angry.
Pressing her palms against the Uchiha's chest, Akira pushed him away. Not hard, but enough to regain a few inches of personal space. A million different things she could say raced through her head, all seeming justified in their own regard. But, much to both of their surprise, she didn't say anything.
She just didn't see the point.
Akira stooped to pick up the shopping bags Itachi had dropped. Itachi stood there, staring blankly. He seemed to expect some sort of strike, snide comment, or anything, really. Honestly, Akira expected herself to suddenly lash out, but nothing happened.
Akira broke into another coughing fit. Somehow, amid the excitement, her malfunctioning respiratory system had decided to take a vacation, but now it was back, and the silence was broken.
"Let's go home." Her voice was barely a whisper.
Kisame glanced around, confused at what he had just sensed.
That had been Itachi's chakra, no doubt. That tiny little glimpse—that was him!
But it had disappeared as quickly as it'd come, like a tiny little fire. Had he just imagined it?
What are you playing at, Itachi-san? Kisame wondered, shaking his head as he continued down the street, still the drawing stares of various villagers and Whirlpool shinobi. It just didn't make sense.
Then again, Itachi never was a man who quite made sense.
Itachi and Akira walked back to the house in silence. Akira put the groceries away, and Itachi stood waiting for her to finish. It was evening now.
He could have used genjutsu to make her forget, but it wasn't worth it. Why use a genjutsu and deny Akira her freedom? He'd put her through enough as it was. Besides, he didn't need the extra eye strain after all the work she'd done.
"The bedroom is yours tonight," he said stoically, "you're still sick."
"Thanks for noticing," her voice cut. Had Itachi been anyone else, he probably would have winced.
She stormed past him, rounding the corner toward her bedroom with clear lack of intention to make dinner before slamming the door behind her.
It didn't matter. He needed to pack while Kisame was still here. At last, it was time to leave.
First, Itachi sought out his clothing. Honestly, Akira had purchased far more for him than he realized. Nothing extravagant, given the Hyuuga girl's budget, but she had certainly provided. It took a few minutes, but once Itachi was positive he had gathered every article of clothing ever worn, using an empty sealing scroll he'd located on Akira's book shelf, he performed the necessary hand signs and used the scroll as his own personal suitcase.
Next he gathered toiletries, a few trinkets here and there such as the wolf mask from Akira's hanabi festival, and, of course, his medicine. Both bottles glowed green with Akira's chakra, promising prolonged health. He sealed those items as well, not wanting to filch more than one sealing scroll after all he'd already taken.
He located the tattered remains of his Akatsuki uniform in Akira's washroom, honestly surprised she'd kept it. His original shoes were there, too, and of course his headband, which he quickly tied to his forehead. Akira had thrown away everything else. He'd be unable to wear his full familiar garb until he returned to Akatsuki, but in the least, he could don his forehead protector and the necklace he maintained since day one here. Other than that, he didn't have much left to pack.
Except the notes. All those lovely little writings, tests and samples Akira had taken while trying to heal his diminishing health and eyesight. They were proof of his existence here, and he had to steal them to stay secret from anyone else.
Itachi doubled back to the dining room where he knew Akira's shoulder bag lay leaned against the table. At his request, she'd taken every piece of her work regarding him home with her every night she returned from Kaede's. It was annoying and most certainly heavy for her, but it also prepared for this time.
Flipping through every book, folder and notebook, Itachi gradually made a pile consisting of two medical seals, several test tubes and countless papers, scribbles and drawings. This was their time together in a nutshell. Despite skipping tonight, his eyesight had improved considerably with the last week of healing sessions, and, although not perfect, it was far better than anything he dealt with at Akatsuki.
After sealing the papers and things in the scroll, he strapped the container to his side, and, out of obligation, stopped to tidy her study. Just the basic picking up books and putting them back on the shelves, making the room look a little less lived in. Also, he folded the blanket Akira had been using on the sofa and neatly placed her spare pillow on top.
It'd be rude to leave the place looking like a dump, he reasoned. Although after today, he was certainly one to talk.
But that was everything. He'd finished the dishes this afternoon, unaware of the day's events, and he'd already double-checked the washroom for any renegade clothing or toiletries.
All that was left was goodbye.
Kaname and Eri would forget him soon enough. They'd probably be glad to be rid of him. Same for Saito and Misaki. Akira's Kaede-sensei had never seen his face, and Itachi had never met the healer woman he heard so much about. All she knew was his first name. That was as much as most of the villgers here knew.
The day's events washed over him as he walked through the study toward Akira's room. Itachi had no intention to wake her. He hadn't wanted things to go the way they had today. He hadn't meant to kiss her—he of all people, child prodigy and master of strategy, couldn't have thought of another way to conceal himself from Kisame.
Even now, he remained at a loss about what else he could have done, worsening his frustration and adding to the shame. But, like everything else in his life, he couldn't change it. Best to allow Akira to hate him for it and hopefully make it easier for her in the morning when she woke up and he wasn't there.
He walked into the Hyuuga girl's room, her steady breathing the only noise. She still sounded congested. Sadly, there was nothing he could do. Nothing more than stand here and whisper his thanks to her sleeping face.
He inched closer until he stood directly over her. Even in the dark, the moonlight spilled through Akira's window, illuminating the girl's face as she lay on her back, face tilted toward the ceiling.
She was so beautiful. So innocent. He'd never really dwelled upon it until now. She'd saved his life, housed him, helped him, put up with his antics, followed his training… so many things he'd never expected. Despite his typical gloom and doom demeanor, he'd really enjoyed himself.
He was going to miss it here. The people, the food, the freedom—but most of all, he was going to miss her.
Every ounce of logic he possessed screamed in protest as he reached out his hand to brush the hair from her face. He lingered, unable to pull away.
He would repay her kindness with finances upon returning to Akatsuki, and after that they'd be even. Their lives would continue, and her memories of him would fade. It would be like it never happened, and he could finally go back to saving Sasuke. But he would never forget, even if she did. He'd never forget her kindness to him.
"Thank you for everything, Akira," Itachi whispered, finally tucking the pale golden strand behind her ear. So silky, so soft. She barely stirred.
"Sayonara."
And with that, he was gone.
Kisame roamed the village streets that night, still on the prowl for Itachi. The afternoon's event persisted to bother him. He had definitely felt Itachi's presence.
As the shark continued on, most people in the town now accustomed to his tall frame and menacing-looking sword, he had the oddest sensation. A new presence flickered to life on his radar, among all the other villagers and shinobi.
It was Itachi. He had not been mistaken.
Kisame quickened his pace, growling silently to himself. Had things gone his way, he would have just rounded up a few villagers and tortured them until one of them spilled some information about a man matching his partner's description. However, it would draw unnecessary attention, which Pein despised and punished greatly, and it would be pointless. Itachi had a way with remaining unnoticed—except when it came to the ladies of course, and most of the time, Kisame, on the other hand, tended to intimidate the opposite sex, cutting off any chance of normal, non-violent communication.
Kisame followed the presence to the grassy outskirts of the village and past the village gate where both guards were asleep, under a temporary genjutsu.
Itachi's work, undoubtedly. Kisame grinned widely when he recognized a pair of glowing crimson orbs.
"I thought you were dead!" the shark called, finally face to face with the notorious Uchiha.
"Hn." It was definitely Itachi. "The delay was less than ideal."
"I'll say," Kisame scoffed. "How the hell did you survive a fall like that?"
No answer. Just narrowed eyes.
"Anyway," Kisame continued, "I guess this means we head back now. I finished the mission while you were doing… well, I got the scroll."
"Thank you."
"It was around here, anyway."
The two began walking. It would be a long journey back.
"What happened to your cloak?" Kisame finally asked. It had been years since he'd seen Itachi in civilian clothes. Save for the occasional under-cover mission, he always wore the standard black and red garb.
"Destroyed in the fall. Irreparably."
"Oh." Kisame could tell by his tone he was getting nothing out of this guy. As usual. "Well, at least we killed the bastards who did it."
"Hn."
"Oh, and one more thing…" Kisame reached into his pocket and pulled out Itachi's Akatsuki ring. Catching the Uchiha's gaze, he tossed it to him. Through some miracle, the nearly blind Uchiha caught it.
"Found it where you fell."
"Hn. Thank you."
"You're welcome." Shaking his head, Kisame gave a small smile as Itachi, still maintaining his stride, replaced the ring on his right hand.
Even with the cold reunion, he was glad Itachi wasn't dead.
Akira grudgingly opened her eyes that morning, no alarm sounding but the gentle sunshine through her window. Yawning, she sat up and stretched her arms, eyes still heavy. In the least, her headache was gone. All she needed to cure her cold was sleep.
"Can't be getting too used to sleeping in my own bed now," she muttered, grudgingly sloughing off the covers and allowing her feet to make contact with the floor. It was cold, but someone needed to start breakfast.
I wonder if Itachi's awake. That was odd. She didn't sense his chakra. He was almost always up before her.
Admittedly, she was still mad at him about yesterday, but she felt more confused than angry. If he had truly wanted to do that, he would have done it long ago when they were alone at her house. There had to be a logical explanation. She just needed to talk to him.
Gotta find him first, I guess. It was beginning to bother her that she couldn't sense his chakra.
The Hyuuga girl rose from her room and headed to the study, but he wasn't there… and all the books were all tidied.
Oh no. Akira's eyes widened in realization, and she bolted in desperation to the bathroom cabinet where she stored his extra medicine bottle.
Gone. She doubled-checked the living room, the dining room, and even the study a second time, but to no avail.
Her last resort lay in the washroom: his tattered cloak and forehead protector.
They were gone, too.
"Akira?"
Kaname and Eri waited outside Akira's door to accompany her to the day's lesson. She said she would be better by today, but no one answered the door.
"Maybe she's still sick?" Eri suggested.
"Then Itachi would have answered." Kaname reasoned. The door was unlocked.
"Akira?" It didn't look like she was awake yet. The duo quickly located Akira in her bedroom.
"Where's Uchiha-san?" Eri inquired. Akira lay on her bed with her back facing them as she watched her prize goldfish swim about.
"Who knows?" Akira muttered, clearly upset.
Kaname spoke, "So, he's not here right now?"
"He's gone. He left somewhere between last night and this morning."
"Oh…" Kaname and Eri looked at each other helplessly.
"Are you coming?" Kaname inquired after a short period of silence.
"No." For once, Akira just wanted to stay home and brood. The last thing she wanted to do right now was learn how to heal people. And all that overtime last week must have counted for something, right?
"We'll tell Kaede-sensei," Eri said gently.
"Fine." Akira still didn't bother facing her friends. She just wanted to be alone. Her friends finally left, but she remained motionless. To be honest, her physical body felt fine. It was her spirit that was crushed.
Akira blinked back tears she'd been hoping to avoid. She'd actually been getting used to living with him. It had been fun—waking up and knowing that she had another person to sit down and eat with, or coming home from a lesson with Kaede-sensei knowing someone was waiting for her. Hell, just being able to train with him had been enough! She knew it couldn't have lasted forever, but why hadn't he said anything?
Now sitting up and wrapped in her blanket, her eyes wandered to her nightstand and rested on a third picture she'd recently added: the one of her and Itachi at the hanabi festival. She reached out and took it from the nightstand, her delicate fingers wrapping around its polished wooden frame.
There she stood, grinning like an idiot and clinging to his arm like an obsessed freak. She'd only been posing. He looked back at her, dark eyes, no smile. An emotionless face.
It infuriated her. How dare he? How dare he just stare blankly back at her when she'd done so much, tried so hard, and, dare she say it, grown so attached?
Had he ever even cared?
Crunch!
The frame's glass shattered beneath her knuckles as the picture's remains fluttered through the air and landed on the ground. Blood dripped from her hand and the tears finally began to spill.
Akira pulled the blanket tighter around herself, desperately seeking comfort.
Why, Itachi? Why…?
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