a/n: Hi! If you'd like to talk about this story, I made a discord. Feel free to bug me on there, if you have questions or want to leave feedback more personally. Here's the link: discord . gg / brR55CP


Chapter Three
Eternal

Itachi sat, nervously, on the bed. This was not the hideout where they typically took refuge, because Zetsu was here, sitting across from her, and watching her hungrily. Not for the first time, she wondered how true Obito's declaration was that he did not, in fact, want to eat her, because of the Hashirama cells.

He certainly looked like he wanted to eat her.

"Can you, uh, stop staring?" she asked, nervously. It was just the two of them, waiting for Obito to come back.

"Sorry," he grunted, averting his mismatched eyes. "You have an interesting face. Reminds me of someone."

"Oh," she said, feeling dumb. "I just - forget about it. What were they like?"

"Beautiful," he replied, smiling. "As beautiful as the moon." He looked deranged, as he leaned forward. Itachi was slowly realizing that he looked deranged, no matter what he did. Perhaps it was just his natural appearance. "She was everything to me, once. Strong, capable, intelligent. I mean it as a compliment," he said, grinning wider.

"Well, thank you," she said, unsure. "Like Madara?"

"Yes," he replied. He was half-snarling, half unsettled. Itachi had begun to think that he was deeply unwell - or more inhuman than she'd thought. "Like Madara-sama. Mother… I loved her."

"I'm sorry she's gone, then."

"Well…" He twitched. "Not gone, completely. I think I'll be seeing her again, soon."

"I'm glad," she told him, forcing herself to smile awkwardly.

Obito popped into existence, then, and she was very relieved, not to have to deal with Zetsu and his clear insanity, anymore. Did he even have a mother? He was supposed to be made of Madara's will, wasn't he?

"Zetsu, stop bothering Itachi," Obito ordered. Zetsu leaned back, and straightened up, immediately. Obito turned to her. "You ready?"

"Yes," she said.

"Okay, Zetsu," he said, taking off his mask, and showing his other eye. "You got everything?"

"Yes," Zetsu said, softly, running his hands over the table, where he had bandages, a syringe, and a number of glass jars arranged. "We are."

"And the eyes?"

Itachi produced the scroll, and opened it up, stepping forward and dropping them into one of the vials. They spun, gently, as the blood diffused gently into the clear liquid.

"The girl first?" Zetsu asked, calmly.

"Yes," Itachi said. "I can do it myself."

"Itachi-"

"I've done it before," Itachi protested.

"Not on yourself!"

"So?" she asked. "I did it on a very realistic clone of myself. I remember doing it, and having it done."

Obito blinked, harshly. "What?"

Itachi sighed. "I can make a very realistic clone, with memories that feel real, so I tortured her to death many times, to fuel hyper-realistic genjutsu."

"That's like, genuinely fucked-up, Itachi. I want you to know that."

She huffed, and crossed her arms. "How come everyone flips out when I tell them that?"

"Because that's like - most people don't want to know what it's like to be tortured, techniques or no."

"Most people have weak genjutsu," she returned, sneering. "Either way, I did it. It doesn't matter what you think."

"Okay, okay," he agreed. "If you want to take out your own eyes, be my guest."

"I'll be gentle," Zetsu promised. "I have prepared an injection, to stimulate the optic nerve to accept new eyes. My usual method is to sever the eyeball at the base of the optic nerve itself, to make the cleanest replacement. I have replaced Madara-sama's eyes many times."

"You promise?" she asked, activating her eyes to ensure he told the truth.

"Yes," he said, bowing slightly. "I will be gentle." He was odd, two-toned in the web, with a lingering malevolence about him, but he wasn't lying.

"Fine," she agreed. All of her new allies were disturbing in that vision, even Obito, a little. It was just something she'd have to get used to.

She lay down on the bed, and allowed him to lean over. As he promised, the touch of his black hand was surprisingly gentle, and the roots he produced through his fingers were razor-sharp.

He forced her eyes open with roots, and dug into her right eyeball, steady in reality, and in the web. Her eye popped out, and she felt the low, dull pain behind it, as her vision blurred. He pulled, just a little bit, with a very soft touch, on her sensitive eyeball itself, and severed the nerve. It took a second, before it was scaldingly painful.

She watched him with only her left as he placed that eye into a new jar, and repeated the same process with her left eye.

"I'm going to inject you now," he said, and his cool fingers brushed her neck, twisting it to find a vein. The world was dark, but his clear, gentle touches were enough to keep her from panicking.

His voice, too, low and dangerous, was pitched oddly gently, calmly. It was strange, but Itachi was just grateful for it as he injected her neck with the syringe. It felt like liquid ice, spreading through her veins and freezing them solid.

He did not wait long, and she could feel the roots forcing her left eye open again, and a smooth, cold orb was inserted to replace it. Zetsu snuck a digit in, to seal the ocular nerve to the eyeball itself with cool, minty medical chakra, and then closed her eye, gently. It burned, but not badly.

She kept it closed, and he did the same with her right. The burning was almost soothing, and the ice of the injection soon reached her eyes, and they soothed, almost immediately. She kept her eyes closed, as he wrapped cloth around her face, tightly.

"All done," he pronounced. "Would you like a sedative?"

"Yes," she said, in a small voice. Another injection, and then she was out like a light.


Ibiki waited, calmly, in the office. The low whir of the heater to his left and the clacking of the secretary's nails on the desk were the only sounds. It was unseasonably cold, in Konoha today, at the advent of winter. Konoha was usually very warm, particularly during the summer, but its distance from the coast made for cooler winters than expected - they sometimes even got snow, which was unusual this far south.

He was briefly grateful for the headscarf forehead protector that he wore, as he buckled his coat around him.

The secretary finally called his name, and he stepped up, grabbed his file, and opened the door, into the wide room behind. It was long, with windows, and a high ceiling. And, it was very cold. He pulled the coat further around himself, and settled into the chair.

The Hokage, bundled in what looked like a number of blankets, blinked at him with old eyes.

"Morino-san," he said, warmly.

"Hokage-sama," he greeted. "I wanted to bring this to your attention personally."

"Oh?" he asked, gently, holding out a hand. Ibiki placed the file in it.

He frowned. He didn't particularly relish this job.

"I was invested in this incident, so I looked into it on my own, and I am afraid that the results aren't promising."

The Hokage opened the file, and he made a noise of assent. "I thought it might have been this," he said. He sighed. "I'm not going to enjoy reading this, am I?"

"I want you to know that I believe your judgement was sound, Hokage-sama," Ibiki said, firmly.

"Oh?"

"I have been looking at this case, and while the complete picture is one thing, the limited view you had the day you made the judgement to confine her was just that: limited. So you deferred making a judgement, and allowed more data to be collected," he said. He believed this, too. "But the village had rot in it."

"You are speaking of Shimura Danzou-san, then?" the Hokage asked, paging through the files.

"Respectfully, Hokage-sama, I am. I have interviewed a number of people in an official capacity that were not interviewed at the time that we had Uchiha Itachi detained, including her cousin, Uchiha Shisui, and the last surviving Uchiha clan council member, Uchiha Osamu. They have painted a worrying picture about the esteemed Danzou-sama. Shisui-san confirmed Itachi-san's accusation of attempted eye theft, and they both testified the coup was indeed real."

He folded his hands, and gravely intoned, "Thus, I believe he was intentionally deceiving you, likely with the intent to gain control of Uchiha Itachi. What he intended her for, I can only speculate. But I believe that she did not remove herself from captivity. Instead, I believe that it was Danzou-sama's Root division that murdered her guard, and took her from her cell."

"That is a worrying accusation, Morino-san."

"Indeed. The base that Team Phi found underneath the village was very worrying, as well. They had a number of Uchiha corpses from the massacre, lacking any dojutsu, and a wealth of documents that implied that they took them through mostly-legal means. It seems that Shimura Danzou-sama was running a secret branch of the ANBU under your nose, Hokage-sama. I confirmed that you ordered him to disband it, years ago, after the defection of Orochimaru."

The Hokage leaned back, rubbing his forehead, looking old and weary. "Yes, that is true. The treachery of my old friend goes very deep."

"I am sorry to inform you of this," Ibiki said.

"It is not something I have not suspected myself, Morino-san," the Hokage said, gently. "Thank you for having the courage to bring this to me."

"Unfortunately, I'm not done yet." Ibiki crossed his legs, and rested his hands on them. "During my interview of Uchiha Shisui, he said that Itachi-san suspected Danzou-sama long before the attempted eye theft, because she believed that he was systematically attempting to oppress the Uchiha, going all the way back to the night of the Kyuubi attack. He said that since you, Hokage-sama, had no choice but to suspect the Uchiha for the attack, you did not prevent Danzou-sama from slowly marginalizing and taking the freedoms from the Uchiha, which was one of the big reasons for the coup in the first place."

"I see," the Hokage said, showing no emotion.

"I did indeed find a pattern, in the edicts concerning the Uchiha, in the last ten years. I do not believe that they were malicious on your part, but the evidence does not favor Danzou-sama. Itachi-san's and Shisui-san's accusations of eye theft, in this light, make some sense. It is my professional opinion that the current crisis was engineered in no small way by your former friend and advisor, possibly with the intent of stealing the Sharingan.

"I would recommend, in this case, moves to counteract these edicts. For starters, integrating non-Uchiha into the Police Force and allowing them to police the entirety of Fire Country, not just the village, would go a long way to make positive change in this direction."

"The law that created the Police Force was put down by my predecessor, Senju Tobirama," the Third Hokage said, slowly. "It would be… a break in tradition, to undo it."

"Respectfully, age is not a reason not to consider whether something is just. Had the First Hokage and Uchiha Madara been unwilling to attempt to build something new, none of us would be sitting here, and all of us would be worse off." He leaned forward, and softened his face. "I believe that this is best for the village, and it would show the Uchiha that you have not forgotten about them. Having spoken closely with their leaders, they believe that you have."

"I will consider it," Sarutobi Hiruzen promised, looking every one of his sixty-five years. "Thank you for your advice, Morino-san."

"I have one thing left to say," he said, quickly. "I believe that Uchiha Itachi is associated with a dangerous individual, one that Shisui called the masked man. Reports have not sighted either of them, not since the night that Itachi-san killed Shimura Danzou-sama. Hatake Kakashi is restless, and very unhappy with how everything went down. If you hear of either of their whereabouts, please send Kakashi-san's ANBU team. I believe that it will be best if he is the one who pursues."

"I can see your reasoning. Thank you, Morino-san."

"Of course, Hokage-sama. I am happy to serve," he said, bowing. He was obviously dismissed.

It was out of his hands now, but he had done what he could.


Itachi gave herself a long, hard look in the mirror. Her eyes were the slightest bit darker. In the right light, her eyes showed themselves to be the brown that they were. Fugaku's eyes had always been slightly darker than hers.

Now, hers were the ones that were darker. She could see, if anything, better than before. When she activated her Mangekyo Sharingan, she could see the normal, eight-pointed flower pattern, but now it had thin rings, crossing the petals. It was beautiful, she thought. Everything she was made, by her father. She only hoped that he looked down on her, proudly, from the Pure World.

She even felt better - stronger, and more resilient. Maybe it was the second dose of Hashirama cells that Zetsu had given her. She had regained her sight faster than Obito had, at least. Almost a day earlier.

She looked pale, in the mirror. Pale and thin. Her cuts from the night of the massacre had well and truly scarred, by now, but the burn was barely healed, red and livid on her pale skin. She probably needed more sun. She hadn't been outside much, lately, and although she'd always been pale, she was looking positively ghostly, next to the inky-black of her hair.

That, too, was longer than normal, and hard to keep control of. Part of her wanted to cut it all off, but she refrained, at least until the Rinnegan thing happened. She had it in a messy, long tail that tickled her neck.

She stared at herself, naked, in the mirror, and found that she didn't wholly dislike the way she looked. Sure, her hips were slim, but her shoulders were thin, too, and while she had no breasts to speak of, her body was thin and androgynous, in that way.

Her legs were thin, too, but covered in muscle, and the thigh-high leggings made them look nicely feminine. It could have been much worse.

It was also a thirteen-year-old body, and there was something to be said for the fact that most girls, at thirteen, disliked something about their bodies. Depending on the girl, it was sometimes many somethings.

Her scars were many, but she could not say she terribly minded. Her face was bare. She had two bad scars: there was the burn from Fugaku's White Pillar on her neck, as well as the Hashirama-cell filled hole in her chest from Madara-Obito's Mokuton. They were disfiguring scars, but she was not vain in that way, and she had been a ninja for six years at this point. That was more than nothing.

She shrugged back into her go-to outfit these days, now that the black and gold yukata had been thoroughly ruined: her oversized hoodie and shorts. She tied the scratched forehead protector around her head, and went to go visit Obito.

Zetsu had gone off to do Zetsu things hours ago, and Obito was lounging around in bed.

"Wake up, sleepy," she murmured, prodding him. "I want to go outside."

"Outside?" he asked. "Why? It's cold outside."

"I need sunlight," she informed him, dryly. "I'm like, super pale."

He grunted, and rolled over. "Since when were you like, an actual girl?"

"Since always," she retorted, kicking his bed. "I'm bored, Obito. There's nothing to do in this hideout, and I practiced jutsu and my fans and played with the Mangekyo all morning. I need stimulation. I'm bored. Do you at least have any prisoners, or anything?"

"No," he said, surly. "Zetsu eats them."

"Gross," she commented. "But not really a surprise. Maybe I should ask him to save me one, so I have something to do."

"It's so weird that I think he actually would. How is it that he actually likes you? I swear, he doesn't like anyone."

"I don't know."

"It's even weirder to see you acting like a teenager."

"I have all this energy," Itachi said. "I don't know what's gotten into me. And I'm free! I have literally nothing to do. No responsibilities, nothing but hanging out and training. And no one to play with. Both in the literal sense and the euphemistic one. So yeah, you're getting up, and you're taking me out, even just outside this base."

"It's cold outside this base."

"You're the one with the space-time ninjutsu," she protested. "Take us somewhere warm."

"It's warm in bed," he pointed out. "I'm warm now."

"You're a lazy, shitty old man," she told him. "How old even are you? Like forty?"

"Forty?" he protested. "I'm twenty-three!"

"Well, you've got the energy of a forty-year-old. C'mon, let's do something!"

He grunted, and she grabbed his arm and yanked, and he tumbled out of bed. He had a loose shirt on, and sleep pants, and the shirt rode up, exposing flesh that looked oddly similar to Zetsu's - his left half was normal, if a little tan for an Uchiha, and his right was all that white, waxy, half-melted skin.

She averted her eyes, and chose not to comment. He had a pale white arm, too, but she didn't want to pry. She had her own body issues, and he would share them in his own time, or not at all.

He made an indecipherable noise, and huffed at her. "You gonna wear something for the cold?"

"These are like, the only clothes I have," she pointed out, slightly miffed.

"Oh," he said, sobering immediately. "Shit. I had no idea! Man, you should have told me. Fuck. I'm a huge asshole. I've been just assuming this whole time and you, well, you had nothing to wear. I just thought you - nevermind."

"Don't beat yourself up too much," she protested. "I like this outfit. And this is expensive ninja-grade clothing. Can't exactly go out and buy these anywhere."

"I got a guy," he said, standing up, and moving away, towards his room. "A smuggler, in Lightning Country. He gets me clothes. I can get him a message. Can't get stuff today, but with time, he does it. You got anything you want?"

"Stuff like this, I guess." She thought about it, following him. "I like it, and I'm done caring about what other people think of me. And," she mused, "if people underestimate me because of my age, that's good. I've spent my entire life trying to get people to take me seriously, and now, that can work to my advantage."

"Mhmmm," he called, from inside his closet.

"Hey, are you listening?" she called. "If you're not, I'm going to punch you into next week."

"Sounds good," he said.

"You're not listening!"

"What?"

"I said," she shouted, "You're not listening!"

"I am," he said, coming out of the closet. "You don't care about being taken seriously anymore, and you're going to try to punch me into next week."

She sneered at him.

"Right." He was wearing a cloak, now, a big black one with a deep hood. "Okay, I'm ready. Where do you want to go?"

"I think you owe me dango," she informed him, primly. "So fire up the swirly eye thing. Let's go."

"It's not a swirly eye thing! It's called Kamui," he protested.

Just then, Zetsu popped up, out of the ground of the chamber in a shower of dirt.

Itachi jumped back, but Obito was covered in dirt.

"Thanks, you inconsiderate plant."

Zetsu cocked his head. "Orochimaru-san gave me the plans. Would you like to see?"

"Yes," Itachi agreed, immediately. "I would."

"Oh, alright," Obito grumbled. "In the main room, though. Not here."

"Why?" Zetsu asked. "You mean you don't like holes dug into your personal space?"

"When did you get this sassy?" Obito asked. "Itachi, I'm blaming you. Somehow, you've corrupted my plant friends, too."

"I'm nice to Zetsu," she said, primly. "He likes me because I'm not a shitty old man."

Zetsu glanced at both of them, let out a wheezing noise that could have been laughter, and popped back into the ground.

"Sage, he's so weird," Obito commented.

"See, this is why he likes me more than you," Itachi pointed out, wisely.

He stepped forward, and grabbed her hand, and then they were back in the common room. The base was made up of a long hallway, a large common room, a small bathroom, and a few personal rooms, mostly used by Obito and Zetsu. She'd gotten her own, but she mostly just used it for sleeping, as she owned very few possessions.

The common room had the two makeshift cots from their eye surgery, and a table. Zetsu had deposited a scroll there, and he was waiting impatiently.

"Very interesting," Zetsu commented. "Your Orochimaru has some fascinating ideas."

Itachi looked over the scroll. A body was outlined, and it was fascinating. Orochimaru had spent hours on this, clearly, and it showed. Most of the lower abdomen was totally alien, excluding most of the digestive system, including a long, thin organ that was labeled 'venom sac' and another, round-looking one that was labeled 'sage chakra enzyme production, filtered.'

That wasn't all - there were two hearts, four lungs, and two stomachs, and the brain stem was thick with cartilage. In fact, Orochimaru's model had bones that were half-cartilage, allowing for greater flexibility. From the venom sac, there were vessels to the fingernails and mouth, with modifications for fangs, and claw-like fingernails; and the sage chakra enzyme seemed to feed directly into the bloodstream.

Itachi might have been jealous, if Orochimaru didn't plan to help give her most of these upgrades, anyway. And Obito had her left eye, which meant he'd see the chakra involved in any deception.

She was ready.

"Shall I begin?" Zetsu asked.

"As you wish," Obito said, coolly. "Do not forget the failsafe within our gift for Orochimaru. We are empowering him significantly. It would not do for him to turn on us."

"As you say, Madara-sama," he said. "Itachi-sama." He took the scroll, and retreated back into the ground.

"Why are you Itachi-sama?" he asked, indignantly. "He only calls me Madara-sama because the actual Madara told him to. That doesn't seem fair."

"Maybe he just realizes how much of a dork you are, now that he's seen a stylish human being like myself," Itachi replied.

"What's with you today?"

She frowned, made a face, and held her stomach. "I think I'm coming down with something," she said, sharply.

"Oh! Are you alright? What's wrong? Is it something I can do?"

She laughed. "I don't have any dango."

"You're such a shit," he protested. "Fine. Whatever. I got dressed for it and everything."

He held out his hand, and she took it.


Sasuke had barely gotten through the gate into the clan compound - there was no longer anyone guarding it, now that the Uchiha had no staff for that - when a hand clamped down on his shoulder.

"Hey, now, Sasuke, where are you going?" Shisui asked. His hand came off Sasuke's shoulder, his eyes hooded.

"Home," Sasuke replied.

"Not so fast, I think."

Sasuke didn't have anything planned, anyway. It was late enough that there wasn't much point in heading off to a training ground.

He stopped, and turned to face Shisui. "What's going on?" he asked.

"Walk with me. I want to show you something," Shisui offered. "Did you eat yet?"

"I did," Sasuke said. "Why?"

"Just wanted to make sure you got fed," Shisui said, lightly. "I take my duties seriously, you know."

"You don't have any duties," he snapped back. "You're not my brother."

"No," he agreed, lightly. "But that doesn't mean I ought not to take care of you." He regarded Sasuke, calmly. "We're both Uchiha. That means something different now than it did before."

Before. What a simple word for so drastic a change. Before what? Before Itachi. The students hadn't really noticed the difference, other than Sai. Naruto certainly hadn't. But the teachers looked at him differently, with sadness, or fear, or a mix of both. He wasn't sure he liked the attention.

"So where are we going?" he asked, setting aside that comment. He couldn't very well argue, because he did want someone to look after him. His mother did, but he missed Itachi, and his father.

"Somewhere," Shisui replied, evasively. "But first, I hear you were in detention all week, for beating someone up. What would Itachi say?"

"She'd congratulate me on winning." Sasuke stuck out his jaw, challengingly. "The kid had special training, so he was a real challenge."

"I heard why, too. She doesn't need you to defend her," Shisui pointed out.

"She's my sister," Sasuke snapped. "My sister. I warned him not to talk crap about her, but he went ahead and did it anyway."

"Was any of the stuff he said untrue?"

"Yes," he said, sharply. "He called her scum."

"Sasuke," Shisui said, very carefully. "I think that you should choose your battles."

"That's exactly what Itachi would say," Sasuke shot back. "And I did choose them. I'd fight for my sister any day, any time. She's my sister. I love her."

"Then choose a battle that won't land you in a week's worth of detention," Shisui retorted. "You're right, I'm not your sister. But I'm here, and I'm older than you, so that's my advice."

They passed through the main thoroughfare, as Sasuke chewed on that. The district was chilly, and subdued in the evening light. Sasuke was used to it being more full of life, but the streets were almost empty. They passed the senbei shop, and the old man there regarded them with a cool expression, and Shisui put a hand on Sasuke's shoulder.

They walked on, towards the older part of the district. The Naka shrine was close, and the similarly-named river that flowed nearby had some of the oldest, and the biggest homes. Not Sasuke's house, which was centrally located, but some of the more important or older branches of the Uchiha lived here.

Shisui led him up the steps to one such house, and old, traditional-style complex, not quite as grand as Sasuke's, but close. There noise inside the house was oddly loud, but Shisui opened it without knocking.

Sasuke thought that was rude, but he followed anyway, toeing off his sandals.

Inside, a dark-haired little girl, looking roughly three or four, was giggling and shrieking and sprinting for all she was worth. She was quick, too, for her age.

Shisui didn't hesitate - he darted forward, and grabbed her around the waist, lifting her up and putting her over his shoulders. "Whoa there, Aiko-chan," he said, smiling. "What are you running from?"

"Nothin'," the girl muttered, sullenly.

"Oh, okay, then. You won't mind if I go find Osamu-sama, and ask him, then?"

"No!" she yelled, and tried to squirm away, but Shisui held firm.

Sasuke was flabbergasted. What was this place? He wanted to ask, but the girl caught sight of him and squeaked, hiding her face in Shisui's curly hair.

"That's just Sasuke-kun, Aiko-chan. Can you say hi?"

She shook her head, firmly, and Shisui grinned. "She's shy at first, but soon she'll be talking your ear off."

"What is this place?" Sasuke asked.

"This is Uchiha Osamu-sama's house," he declared. "He's the only member of the Council left, and acting Clan Head."

"So Aiko-chan is his daughter?" asked Sasuke.

"No," Shisui said. "This is what I mean. We're all Uchiha. Her parents aren't around, anymore, so she stays here."

"Oh," Sasuke murmured, dumbstruck.

The door to the living area slid open, then and a pretty teenage girl, another Uchiha, stepped out. "Oh, good, you're here!" she said, smiling at Shisui. "And you caught Aiko-chan. One day, I swear that girl's going to be as fast as you."

"I look forward to the competition," Shisui returned, lightly. "Izumi-san, this is Uchiha Sasuke. Sasuke, this is Uchiha Izumi. She helps out around here."

"Hello, Izumi-san," he said, politely.

"Hello, Sasuke-kun," she replied, kindly. "Why don't you both come in?"

"Sure," Shisui said, and nudged Sasuke forward. He stepped into the room, watching as a whole bunch of children played together - a sullen boy who looked to be older than Sasuke with a long face, twin boys who had to be five or six playing with blocks, a girl around his age who was reading quietly in a corner, and a little baby, in the lap of an old man who looked like a turtle.

He had to be Uchiha Osamu, and he was gently reading to the baby, smiling, and looking very soft.

Shisui came up behind him, and deposited the little girl on the carpet, near where the comfortable armchair, incongruous in the traditional setting, sat.

"Osamu-sama," Shisui said.

"Shisui-kun," he said, in his low, rumbling voice. "How lovely to see you. And Sasuke-kun, as well."

"Osamu-sama," Sasuke delicately repeated.

Shisui sat down next to him, on the carpet, and patted the spot next to him. Sasuke sat.

"I asked Shisui to bring you here today for a reason," the old man said, in that slow voice of his. "I think it may do you some good, to come here."

"Why?" Sasuke asked. He didn't see the point.

"If you do, I shall teach you what I taught your sister," Osamu rumbled, softly. "An accumulation of what the Uchiha clan knows of fuuinjutsu."

Sasuke's mouth opened, soundlessly. That was no small thing - the knowledge of sealing was jealously guarded, even among the village.

"Of course, you will have to help out around here, but that is not hard, for a young man like you, is it?" he asked.

"Sure," he said. "But I don't get why you want me. I don't know anything about taking care of kids."

"When I was eleven, and Itachi was six," Shisui piped up, next to him. "I was ordered to train her, by your father. Before then, people called me a prodigy, and I was already a genin. I thought I was the best. But then Itachi showed me that even at that age, I still had a lot to learn. I think it'd be good for you. Kids'll surprise you, and you can learn a lot by showing others what you can do."

Sasuke looked at him dubiously, but he figured that he was getting enough out of it, even if he wasn't sure he would get anything out of looking after the kids. He could probably just bring some homework, and do it in the room, and get away with it.

"Okay," he agreed, readily.

"Good!" Shisui said, grabbing him and picking him up. "Well, here's what you need to know: Aiko is trouble, so you need to keep one eye on her at all times - if you can't see her, she's up to no good. Hotaru likes to read, so just let her do her thing…"

He dragged Sasuke around, explaining the children and their habits. Sasuke, however, didn't miss the twinkle in Uchiha Osamu's eyes, nor the way he absentmindedly went back to reading.

Clearly, he was going to get more than he signed up for.


a/n: Happy Fourth of July, for all my American readers!