Chapter 17 – Shinobi

The obi came undone. A pale shoulder came into view as she shrugged, the kimono's silk whispering against her skin. He swallowed, drinking in the very picture of perfection unfolding before him as he leaned back on the bed invitingly. But his kitten was in the mood to play tonight, and she turned with her back to him, peeling off the layers of silk one after another. She let them drape enticingly midway down, before slipping out of them completely.

"Kakashi-sensei!"

Swathed in moonlight, her skin glowed with a silver sheen. He licked his lips at the sight, only to find his throat suddenly getting dry as she sashayed towards him: a naked goddess, coming to bind him to her will, coming to-

"Ka-ka-shi-senseeeei!"

Kakashi sighed and peered over his book. "Yes, Naruto?" he asked, eyeing him impassively. The blond was glaring daggers at him, while pointing at Sasuke in the same agitated way someone would be swatting with at a particularly annoying fly.

"You said taijutsu training today, but all Sasuke-teme does is trip me up and cramp my style!"

"Whose fault is it that you keep falling for the same trick, dobe?"

Kakashi lowered the Icha Icha volume and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Tripping your opponent is still taijutsu, Naruto. It's not against the rules. Why don't you try to work with Sakura, like I asked you to, instead of charging in by yourself?"

Naruto made a face and begrudgingly turned to face Sasuke, who eased into a defensive posture. Kakashi watched his three students for a while, making sure they resumed their training rather than their bickering, before returning to his book. He lowered his eye to the pages, ready to delve back in for the good part of the chapter, when a gust of wind turned the page he was currently at. Kakashi sighed again and turned to greet the shinobi who had just used a transportation jutsu to appear beside him in a whirl of leaves.

"Yo, Itachi."

"Hello, Kakashi-san," Itachi said, balancing himself on the balls of his feet on the edge of the rooftop overlooking the training ground. He was in full ANBU outfit, and only his sharingan glowed red from the dark slits in his mask.

"Mission?" Kakashi asked.

"Applied tactics training."

"Mm," he said, turning his attention back to the three figures darting through the fallen leaves carpeting the training ground. "How did that go?"

"We're adapting well enough, considering we're a five-man squad now. It occurred to me that I didn't get to thank you for talking to Akane."

"You're welcome, but that was months ago," Kakashi pointed out nonchalantly. "Why are you really here, Itachi?" He did not have to see Itachi's face to sense his hesitation.

"Will they be entering the chuunin exams?" he asked, after a telltale pause.

So, Sasuke had not told him. Kakashi went on a limb and assumed this to mean things were not going well between him and Itachi. It would certainly explain a lot about the youngster's demeanor over the past couple of months. While his skills had seen a vast improvement in light of his newfound training drive, Sasuke had become rather closed off, bordering on unreceptive to his input, as well as downright hard on his teammates for being unable to keep up.

My name is Sasuke Uchiha. I hate a lot of things, and I don't particularly like anything. What I have is not a dream, because I will make it a reality.

Now, more than ever, Sasuke seemed determined to make those words come true. "The first stage is tomorrow," he said. "They've already signed up for it."

Itachi said nothing, swallowing the bitter pill without giving away his distaste. After a long deliberation, he had preferred coming to Kakashi instead of asking Mikoto, in order to avoid an unpleasant discussion with her on the exact reason Sasuke had not told him himself. It was no less unpleasant to find out from Kakashi, however, and he was grateful for the cover of his ANBU mask.

Especially when Sasuke glanced in their direction and spotted him. Itachi watched his younger brother parry a blow from Naruto, and then another, using the grip he had attained to unceremoniously spin and throw him away. Sakura hesitated and decided not to charge without Naruto, backing up a few steps. Sasuke then turned his full attention to him, and Itachi felt something coil tightly in his stomach.

"Come down here, Itachi," Sasuke said, his glaring eyes already red with his nascent sharingan. Naruto and Sakura peered up curiously, following his gaze to the strange ANBU member sitting beside their sensei.

Sasuke was getting riled up just at the sight of his older brother, Kakashi noted. Another point supporting his earlier assumption. Beside him, Itachi remained still and impassive – at least on the surface. Deep down, he was no doubt entertaining the thought of obliging the demand. Before, perhaps, sparring with Itachi would have served as a motivator. Now, Kakashi was not so certain it would have a desirable effect on the young Uchiha.

"My name is Sasuke Uchiha," Kakashi recited in a low voice, ensuring no one but Itachi would hear. "What I have is not a dream, because I will make it a reality. I'm going to surpass my older brother."

I'm going to make you see me.

With an almost imperceptible nod to Kakashi, Itachi jumped off the rooftop and landed before his little brother, soundless as a shadow. He stood up to his full height, holding Sasuke's gaze. One tomoe in his left eye, two in his right one. One more tomoe than the last time he had peered into his sharingan. While it would have been interesting to see exactly how much his little brother had progressed, Kakashi's words had been intended as a warning. Now was not the time to test him, not with his teammates here to witness his inevitable failure.

"Stop, Sasuke," Itachi said, his own sharingan quick to notice Sasuke's muscles tensing under his skin, ready to serve. "I can't stay, I'm sorry. Maybe-"

Sasuke suddenly vanished. Itachi parried the leg hit aimed at his side from behind, where his little brother had promptly relocated before he had gotten to finish his sentence.

"No," Sasuke growled, shifting his stance for a second hit. "Not 'maybe next time'. Now."

"Now is not a good time," Itachi said, spinning on his heels to catch his fist. Sasuke was successfully forcing him into a game he did not wish to play. Itachi relinquished his hold and jumped back to disengage, only to see Sasuke charging. He had gotten faster. His sharingan caught the glint of metal and he drew his sword to parry the kunai. "Please stop this," he said.

"Not a chance."

Itachi gritted his teeth. The edge of his sword sang as it tipped away the kunai expertly, the sudden shift catching Sasuke by surprise and throwing him off-balance. His eyes widened, but his body was yet unadjusted to the sharingan's power and his reaction was not fast enough to prevent what he saw coming. Itachi twisted one arm behind his back and pushed him to the ground, quickly pinning down his other arm, as well. His knee pressed firmly between Sasuke's shoulder blades. "I just wanted to wish you good luck on the chuunin exams, otouto," he said.

"I hate you," Sasuke sputtered, managing to turn his head enough to glare at him.

Not as much as I love you, little brother, Itachi thought, a bitter smile on his lips. Maybe one day, Sasuke would understand. But not today, it seemed. He released him and formed a hand seal, vanishing in a whirl of leaves. From the hiding place he had transported himself to, he watched his little brother force himself to his feet and dust off his clothes.

Kakashi was only half listening to Naruto's chatter, as he and Sakura approached a Sasuke who most certainly did not seem in the mood to be pelleted with questions. Truth be told, the young Uchiha had at least succeeded in forcing his older brother to spar, which was a rare feat. Itachi leaving without a word would have been more upsetting than giving him a taste of the dust when he would not back down. This would inflame Sasuke for the time being, but maybe it would die down sooner, rather than later. One could only hope.

"Kakashi-senseeeei!" Naruto cried out in a rather nasal voice. "Sasuke-teme is leaving!"

When Kakashi looked up, he saw fresh blood gushing from Naruto's nose and Sasuke stalking off the grounds. This was going to be a longer day than he had originally anticipated. Alas, it seemed he would have no time to finish the chapter.

Hiashi Hyuuga pulled the fur cloak tighter around himself and warmed his hands on the steaming cup of tea in front of him. No matter the time of year or the weather, he would always enjoy his afternoon tea on the back porch, overlooking the zen garden. The silence here drew him into a meditative state, out of the mire of thoughts which usually loomed like a dark cloud over the head of a clan. Today, however, it appeared he would not have the chance to enjoy his tea in peace.

"I was wondering when you would come back," he said, not even needing the Byakugan to detect and identify the unwelcome visitor. "I was, however, hoping that you would not rile up my guards by doing so. The girl had more sense than you in this. Have a care."

Itachi stood up, keeping to the shadows behind Hiashi as three Hyuuga clansmen dashed through the garden, alerted by the unexpected presence at their leader's side.

"Hiashi-sama!" one of them cried out.

Hiashi merely raised a hand and they all came to a halt, in spite of their confusion. "It's alright," he said. "He's not an enemy."

The Hyuugas eyed Itachi from head to toe, as if to make sure, though what they could possibly glean beyond the fact that he was an ANBU member, he had no idea. Or was it that their vigilant Byakugan had identified him as an Uchiha, which had alarmed them so? There had not been a turf war between the members of their clans in ages. However, he supposed it could not be helped. The majority of Konoha's population regarded the Uchihas with suspicion, if not downright distaste. "I apologize, Hiashi-sama," Itachi said as Hiashi's guards gave them back their privacy. "I'm afraid I have less time for social visits these days."

"Business it is, then," Hiashi said, motioning for him to join him at the low, lacquered table. As if to make a point, however, he offered him no tea. "Have you found my brother?"

"We haven't found a single trace of him since our first encounter." He said not a word of Suisen being part of the criminal organization known as the Akatsuki. That was still classified information. "But this is what I came here to speak to you about. When we do find him-"

Hiashi scoffed. "So, you've finally figured out the solution to this problem, have you?"

Itachi's eyes narrowed at the older man's derision. "I assure you, Hiashi-sama, that my team is more than capable of taking him down," he said, keeping his tone level and polite, although it had gained a cold edge to it. "However, Hokage-sama would prefer it if we took as few risks as possible, and hopes that we may be able to bring him in alive. The last time I was here, you offered us your help."

"Still insolent, I see," Hiashi said, sipping calmly from his tea.

"Forgive me, Hiashi-sama, but you would not be the first person whose day I've ruined. I must know: do you plan to go back on your word?"

Hiashi's nostrils flared as the trap sprung shut around him. The woman's presence had tempered the Uchiha boy the last time they had been here. Now there was nothing holding him back, and he had had the leverage to back him into a corner. More the fool he, for having allowed it. As much as he detested Fugaku, he had to give it to him: he had raised a clever, competent son and heir. The boy knew when to hold back and when to press his advantage. "Careful where you throw your accusations," he said.

"It was only a question, Hiashi-sama, whatever you believe it may have implied, and you still haven't provided me with an answer to it."

Hiashi shoved his hands into the sleeves of his kimono to keep warm. Though lightly dressed, the Uchiha did not seem to feel the biting cold. He was sitting still as a statue, and no doubt even his face was made of stone behind that painted mask. A prodigy, indeed. One who, in a matter of minutes, had managed to play on his nerves more than others who had actually tried. To think Hinata would be the one to deal with him, when they would eventually take his and Fugaku's place as heads of their respective clan. If only Hanabi had been born first, he would have had no doubts about the future of the Hyuuga clan. The least he could do was deal with this stain on their name.

"I gave you my word freely, Uchiha," he said, his tone losing some of its hardness. "Do you hold so little trust in your heart that you would question it?"

There was a moment of silence before the Uchiha's slightly bowed head straightened up. Hiashi met the sharingan's eerie glow.

"When I wear this mask, I cannot keep my heart."

Hiashi felt a cold shiver run down his spine at the dark words that came out from the boy's mouth. This boy… this mere boy was more than just another haughty Uchiha. He was a shinobi, in the true sense of the word. The notion which most of them sought to grasp and encompass, what they could only flail at all their lives without ever realizing the extent of their failure… this boy embodied that. But whatever admiration that realization stirred within him was quickly drowned by pity. He was too young to carry this darkness. Was this what he wanted Hinata to become? For the first time, the answer frightened him.

"Hiashi-sama."

Hiashi looked up, surprised to find himself so shaken and distraught. It was an unsightly display and he had difficulty recomposing himself. He had stood before the mirror and it had shown him a true reflection, shattering the illusion of his existence.

"Yes, Uchiha," he said, though his voice no longer carried the strength and superiority he had so proudly thought warranted. "I will come with you myself, when the time comes. Is that what you wanted to hear?"

He was the only one who could do this. His father was too old, the grudge Suisen held against him likely too great to risk sending him. No, it was his duty now, as the head of the Hyuuga clan and Suisen's older brother to put him in his place. Deep down, he had known it would come to this from the moment he had learned he was alive. Activating the juinjutsu Suisen had been branded with as a child was the only means to subdue him before he could cause more damage. What would it be like, he wondered, to look into the face of a brother he had thought dead all these years?

"You will be well protected, Hiashi-sama," the Uchiha said, standing up to leave, now that he had obtained a satisfactory answer from him. He was stopped short by Hiashi's next words.

"You have a little brother, don't you?"

The ANBU turned his head slightly. There, a crack in the mask, Hiashi thought ruefully. A well-guarded heart was still a heart, no matter how many walls one put up around it. "What would you do if you were in my place?" he asked.

But the crack was gone, as quickly as it had appeared. "Whatever I had to."

To save him or to stop him? Hiashi wondered, but that question remained unasked and unanswered as the Uchiha vanished, leaving him alone on the veranda, with nothing a cup of cold tea and a mouthful of bitterness for company.

I hate you.

Itachi pushed too much chakra into his feet and the shingle on the roof cracked when he stepped on it.

What would you do if you were in my place?

The half-truth burned on his lips as much as any lie, because the whole truth was that he did not know what he would do if Sasuke were to go down that path. My duty, some part of him whispered, strangled by the pain the very thought brought on. How far did one have to go to be beyond redemption, beyond salvation? For all the blood on his hands, could he honestly say he would do his duty if it ever came down to that?

His stomach turned violently and he stopped by the side of a dark alley to vomit, though nothing came out of him. He crumpled in the bushes, clutching at his chest as the breath hitched in his throat. When it finally came out, he could not stop. The air went in an out at an alarming rate and he found himself unable to regain control over it.

Sasuke's downward spiral… he could see it all too clearly. The kunai he had drawn against him earlier today had carried the weight of an intent to hurt, to kill even. While with or without that, Sasuke had not stood a chance today, someday he might. Then that same kunai would pierce his heart without fail and cause him the same unbearable pain which was tearing through him now.

Stop. Get a hold of yourself.

He drew in air to the point where his lungs felt like bursting. It came out slowly, and shakily. Pause. Breathe in. Pause. Breathe out. Control. He could not afford to come down over this now. Over nothing.

The ANBU mask was cold to the touch and heavy in his hand, the string hanging loosely in the frost-touched grass, having snapped in Itachi's rush to rip the damn thing off his face. He shivered in the cold air. A tickling sensation in his throat turned into a sudden fit of coughing. The pain in his chest bloomed anew, searing with every hungry intake of cold air. It took a few minutes for it to subside, and when he lowered the hand from his mouth, there were specks of blood in his palm. The sight of his own blood made him dizzy.

Well, shit. That's what Tsume would have said of it, he thought, running his clean hand through the hair plastered on his forehead. As if this day could not get any worse. There was plenty of it left, and still no time for him to hang on the verge of yet another breakdown, regardless. He picked up his now useless mask, and pushed himself off the ground and into the night.

Sasuke picked at his food, absentmindedly pushing a pea around his plate with the chopsticks. His head was propped up on the other arm. He could care less about manners right now, with his shoulder still sore from having been twisted. Part of him knew Itachi could have done far worse, which only served to further infuriate him. Itachi still did not take him seriously. How could he, when it had taken him under a minute to immobilize him? His attempt to stab the pea with the bamboo chopsticks caught his father's attention, but only for a moment.

"Where's Itachi?" Fugaku asked Mikoto.

Sasuke bristled, and this time, the blunt end of the chopsticks turned the pea into green mush. Both Fugaku and Mikoto turned their heads to him. "You don't like your food?" Mikoto asked, a soft trace of concern in her voice.

"You know I hate peas," Sasuke said.

"Well, we can have something else tomorrow evening. How does ramen sound?"

The chopsticks came down harder against the table than he would have liked, but either way, there was no taking it back now. "May I be excused?" he asked, struggling to keep his voice steady.

Mikoto's eyes darted to her husband, an unspoken panic surging in them. He failed to grasp her meaning in due time and Sasuke took their silence for the answer he wanted to hear. His chair scraped against the floor, and she listened to his footsteps along the hall, until the door to his room slammed shut. With each of those sounds, something in her died. She felt her heart turn to stone and slumped into a chair, running a hand through her hair with a sigh.

"Damn it, Fugaku," she said in a low, deceptively calm voice. "Damn it to the seven hells."

"What?" he asked, only to realize as she raised her head to glare at him. How many years had it been since he had seen her using the sharingan? He had forgotten its sinister edge. Had forgotten its existence altogether. All these years since she had given up the shinobi life to bear and then raise their sons, he had forgotten that she was the kunoichi who had once bested him in a sparring match.

This was her scoffing at him now. "For all your visual prowess, you are hopelessly blind, I swear. You-"

Fortunately for him, the sound of the front door opening and closing put a stop to it all before it even really began. Once that sweet temperament came down crashing, Mikoto was a force to be reckoned with.

"Tadaima," came Itachi's voice from the hallway.

The sharingan faded to black in Mikoto's eyes, though her glare held Fugaku in its grip for another moment before she rose from the chair to welcome their oldest son home. Fugaku leaned into his hand, feeling both guilty and uncertain at the same time. Where had it all gone wrong?

"Okaerinasai," Mikoto said, putting on a smile as she stepped into the hallway. Itachi finished removing his sandals and stood up. He looked pale and weary, and it broke her heart to see him like this. He had only returned from his vacation two days before. "Dinner is still warm. Would you like to eat?"

"Thank you, but I'd rather go to sleep."

Mikoto hesitated, her lips parting with no sound coming out. Itachi noticed and paused. The tensions in their family were bearing down hard on her, as well. It could not have been easy to walk on eggshells every day, knowing that she remained the one member of the family keeping them all together. Their one, common ground.

"You don't look so well," she said, feeling a pang of sadness that he would not even look at her. She had failed him, too, she knew all too well. She could see it every time she looked in his eyes, and now he would not even meet her gaze. "Are you feeling alright?"

"Just tired," he said. If he kept spinning this web of lies around him, he would soon be trapped in it, Itachi thought. After all, he had learned from the best spider, he thought with no little amount of distaste. The web would bleed him dry, eventually, but it could not be helped. He would protect his mother from the truth if it meant one less thing for her to worry about. Is it her you're protecting, though, or is it yourself? He swallowed the guilt which accompanied that thought. Sometimes, it felt like he did not really take off the ANBU mask at the end of the day.