How many people noticed that all the chapter titles for the Venture Arc were James Bond rip-offs?

And now, Shisui loses his temper. Big time. Hoo boy. He wrested the plot away from me and now it's full speed ahead.

Poison: Whispers in the Walls

Kakashi carefully braced the tekko-kagi in the make-shift vice and slowly began scratching away at the Maker's Mark with a freshly-sharpened engraving stylus. It had been foolish of him not to erase it before giving it over to Kimimaro, but he had completely forgotten.

A grid of lines now lay over and through the small symbol; picking up a small file, he began scraping off the evidence, metallic mote by metallic dust mote. It wouldn't disguise the metal to those who knew such things. Indeed, the only reason he was making any headway at his task at all was the fact that the tools had been specifically made and treated to work on this particular metal. That he was using tools for making these weapons in order to deface one was probably just cause for his ancestors to roll in their graves. Certainly, he was going to keep this from his several people for as long as possible.

But this Maker's Mark had put Kimimaro in danger, so defacing an heirloom was a small price to pay if it meant the boy would be that little bit safer. And besides, he didn't deserve to be dragged into the...into another Clan's problems.
Striking a character from the Clan Name had done much to hide all of them. Splitting into Main and Retainer Families had helped too. Hatake was a farmer's name, once you stripped away the context added by the other character, and the four centuries of the Warring Clans Era had done much to erase or distort any records.

Kakashi was fairly certain that the Sandaime Hokage had figure out the truth, or at least a substantial part of it. The man wasn't a genius in the strictest sense, but had the uncanny ability to put the most scattered of clues together. The Nidaime had known too; for a different reason entirely but that was an...uncertain topic to think upon.

Blowing the last few specks of metal of the now fairly-smooth surface, Kakashi put it to one side and reached for the other.

Only for the proximity alarm to ring.

Not overly worried, but still cautious, Kakashi exited the armoury and sealed the door behind him, the blood-seals flashing once as they activated. Now that he was past the various protective and privacy seals that lined the room, he could sense who was on his property. No need to worry.

"What seems to be the problem?" He hailed politely from the doorway. Inoichi, looking a little tense, shot a Look at him.

"Kakashi, tell me honestly...are you okay?" Eyes ran Kakashi up and down, flicked to hands and the doorway, Kakashi's casual clothes, conveying all the questions that went unvoiced but perfectly understood.
This is your Clan Compound, but what are you doing here? This is where your father died, are you working through some things or do you need me to book an appointment again? If it is the former, do you need to vent, or can I leave you alone safely?

"I remembered my parents and grandparents having a few boxes of things stowed away and I've been sorting through them to see if there's anything useful," Kakashi answered. It was not Inoichi's place to know about the true extent of the armoury. "A bit too much nostalgia, but no ghosts at my back," he reassured, watching as the Yamanaka's expression cleared. "What did you need me for?"

"Ah, yes," Inoichi's face fell into what seemed to be it's default mode these days: exasperation.
"The update for the Bingo Book arrived mid-morning and we need to go over the mission report again. Preferably now, before my aspirin wears off."

Back in the safety of her bedroom, Yuyu Aburame stripped off her heavy coat, before reaching for the bundle of leather and straps she had hastily carried home. Holding it up, she adjusted her grip a few times before she understood which way up it was meant to go, before slipping it on and cinching the buckles tight.

The knee-length skirt was open-fronted, as Kimimaro had said, and held by a thick belt that was more of a sarashi than anything. Thankfully, the boy had used his brain and realised that merely clipping on pouches and letting them hang would lead to a lot of buffeting and annoyance during any form of mildly strenuous activity. Instead, there were three large oval-shaped bags that hooked onto the sarashi at each of their ends.
The harness was a little more complex, having more buckles. But it turned out to fit over the back and shoulders, fastening under the arms and with two straps fastening horizontally at the front; one across her breastbone and the other at the top of her abdomen. Three more bags of the same design were hooked on, and there were two more that fell loose to the ground. Spares, no doubt.

Hurrying to the mirror in the adjoining bathroom, Yuyu drank in what she could see of herself. She looked...she felt like a real shinobi, someone who anyone below Jonin-rank would turn and flee from. More than just an Intelligence shinobi.

With a thought, some of her Devourer kikaichu left her body through the holes on her collarbone and upper arms, acquainting themselves with the pouches on her torso. Another thought, and a hive of honey bee-based kikaichu she'd just gotten out of it's starter phase and had yet to name began to scout out one of the bags on the sarashi.

On a level that would be near-impossible to describe to anyone but an Aburame, the various kikaichu queens within and anchored in her chakra network communicated their approval. The best way to summarise it, was that they even if they didn't understand clothing or the complex contexts of supporting future goals, they were advanced enough to understand gift, ally to the hive, strength gained and happy. And if their Host-Partner was happy, that was ideal.

happy happy? happy!
They communicated, and Yuyu soothed them with thought-concepts of content in return.

And...she was. Content. Somewhat, at least.

And...giddiness? Was that the right word? Because this was the first time someone had actively supported her dream instead of telling her she was better suited to other things, or useless platitudes of 'well, if you put your mind to it'. If this was how all her predecessors had felt about their First Soldier, no wonder her grandmother was so lenient about Kimimaro being...well, totally infuriating.

Not to mention, utterly oblivious. Everyone else had a healthy respect for her abilities, except for him! Instead of staying away, he...treated her like a normal person.
When it was very obvious that she wasn't. And he knew she wasn't!

...Ugh, humans were so needlessly confusing. And even by human standards, Kimimaro was insane. Hence the need for him to be protected, which was where her status as his Queen came in.

And that was enough posing in front of the mirror for the rest of her life.

She left the bathroom and stood at her work desk, surveying the lightly-bubbling vat on it and reaching for a very specialized type of scroll, one of many in a stack. She had work to do.

Sasuke was on the verge of sleep, head nodding even as he hid beneath the bedcovers with a small torch and his favourite book, Itachi curled up next to him.

Itachi remembered this book; it had been his, a few years ago. He had bequeathed it to Sasuke when his brother had taken such a liking to the stories within it. A collection of historical tales in a more fiction-like form, it was fully illustrated and with soft, fluffy edges to the paper where the volume had been well-thumbed.
Right now, it was open on the tale of the Fall of The Raijuu, with a particularly striking double-page spread of the monstrous Kirin formed from lightning crashing into a snowy mountain peak and sending a pack of wolves, mere specks against the blast, flying.

The Kirin crashed down upon the mountain, killing the wolves that were not already dead and splitting the ground apart.
was printed neatly in a mere corner of the page, the image left to dominate.

Yes, Itachi remembered reading this himself, when he was younger. He had always preferred the gentler, bittersweet tales like The Iron Heron or Comet Chaser. But Sasuke preferred giant beasts and bloody battles, and had adored the lizard-like umibōzu in Lion's Rage so much that someone had found him a plush toy of a green and plate-backed bipedal dinosaur. It was a close enough approximation of the pictures in the book to be immediately accepted.
He should ask it's whereabouts at some point, really.

Looking at his little brother, Itachi saw that Sasuke was now fast asleep and still hunched over the open book. Thankful for his larger-than-the-average-cat size, Itachi nudged him onto his back and arranged the covers as much as he could.

It really was strange how people venerated the world of yore, long before the Sage. Back when Primordials and Primals would roam freely, back before Clans and Active Chakra...those stories were historical for a reason. Most described, probably relatively accurately, the origins of old, old genetic abilities. Descendants of the Samebito were still around today, Kisame Hoshigaki currently the most infamous as one of Kirigakure's heavy hitters. The Houzuki and their water forms, as well as their near-translucent skin and sharp teeth, descendants of Amemasu. And...Itachi glanced back at the book, where pages had flipped over.

The Dragons, arriving to find the Raijuu distraught and their Wishing Pearls vanished, became furious beyond measure. In their malice, they seized the Raijuu and thrust them into the dead wolves.

Their minds too numb with shock to fight back, they merged with flesh and bone until they were only a little more than mortal. Grey fur became white and teeth like shattered crystal, lightning crashing over their tongues.

Well, Itachi was pretty sure that those wolves had vanished long ago, obliterated in some great battle with the Dragons that had cursed them.

And what was the use of dwelling on the past? The time for heroes, giant monsters and epic quests was centuries upon centuries ago, even if Primordials like the Dragons and Tengu were still around. It was best to focus on the here and now.

With a press of his paw, Itachi clicked off Sasuke's torch. He only had a few hours left, Kimimaro had said eight but hadn't been definite, until this accursed jutsu wore off.

Time to do a little lurking.

"'-so, she says that I'm the one to blame because-'"

"'-I know she's your mother, but do I have to go?-'"

"'-order will be in by next week-'"

"'-that's half his body weight in cabbage, there's no way-'"

"'-it off, I'll put it in the wash tomorrow-'"

"'-what happened in Suna? Sources say it was their Jinchuuriki-'"

"'-having a girl's night out, but you know-'"

It was the usual gossip as the Uchiha Clan settled for the night, bits and pieces floating by as Itachi wound his way through the Compound, gradually making his way to the Naka Shrine. If he remembered correctly, the roof beams of the underground room weren't well lit and definitely not wide enough to support a human and remain unseen. But a black cat...this would be the first time he had eavesdropped on a meeting instead of either attending or just simply skipping.

"'-doubts about-'"

"'-not enough time to-'"

"'-barrier surrounding the Village-'"

"Can't you just leave him alone?!"

Shisui's voice broke through the murmuring, silencing the other voices. Itachi sped up his pace, picking a way through gaps and odd corners in the ventilation until he came out right above the underground meeting room, peering down on the crowd of conspirators through the criss-cross of narrow rafters.

Fugaku and two of the coup's most supportive Elders sat between the braziers, in front of the Stone Tablet. Shisui stood staunch before them, a wide circle of space around him as his clansmen distanced themselves.
"If you're going to fucking insult my cousin, you could at least have the decency to do it to his face and prove to him what he's needed to get through his head for over a year; none of you give a shit about what he actually thinks and feels!" He was oozing Killing Intent, practically spitting tacks, eyes flickering in and out of the Sharingan.

A few opened their mouths as if to speak, but he cut them off again.

"No! None of you have any right to defend yourselves because we all know it would be fucking lies, both because you never took the time to know him and because deep down you only think of him as an asset to be used as you see fit."

Several shot ashamed glances at each other, but then Fugaku opened his mouth. "Itachi has a duty to this Clan as it's Heir, and I will not allow you to degrade this Council Shisui! Know your place!"

Shisui merely quirked his head, brow furrowed and lips curling in a disbelieving smile. "Heh," he huffed, face suddenly smoothing over and his tone light. "Know my place; yeah, okay, I can do that, no it's fine, fine, no problem OR HOW ABOUT I TELL YOU MY PLACE?!"

Even up in the rafters, Itachi was caught in the area-effect genjutsu as the world became a kaleidoscope of crimson and black swirls. Every Uchiha had their Sharingan activated, desperately probing at the illusion but to no avail. Only Itachi had ever matched Shisui in genjutsu in terms of power, but Shisui was absolutely unparalleled when it came to long-range and wide-range. That, and this was more Killing Intent made manifest than a true genjutsu.

"Oh, I'll tell you my place," Shisui purred malevolently. "I am grand-nephew of Kagami Uchiha, and was in the Bingo Book with the name Shunshin no Shisui before I even became Chunin." His voice was low, quiet.
"I am the fastest shinobi to set foot on the land since the Fourth Hokage and Third Raikage, whole squads of ANBU have turned and fled at the mention of my name and as you can see, my genjutsu is on another level even without the much-vaunted Mangekyo Sharingan I possess. Not to mention, I am an ANBU myself, holder of a Family-level Summon Contract and am more than capable of killing every single person in this room before any of you draw your next breath."

Despite never raising his voice above a low murmur, every word was sharp and clear, the illusion-shadows swarming around him in a wreath of dark fire lined with eyes and teeth. And then, it all dissipated in a rush of light, back into walls of stone and warmly-lit braziers casting stark silhouettes. Every eye was on him, all of them tense and wary.

"Let me make myself transparently clear," he folded his arms over his chest. "I care for Itachi as much as he does for Sasuke. And you have been abusing Itachi for nearly two years, endlessly pushing him, treating him like an object. What does it say that a half-insane, brutally tortured refugee has taught him more about self-respect and self-esteem in the past year than any of you have his whole life? And then you try and separate them both, push Itachi into ANBU, onto more and more missions, on track to the rank of Captain. Then when he tries to push back, you keep him from Sasuke, start pushing Sasuke down the same path and it makes me sick. Not once have you ever asked him what he wants to do with his life and you keep forcing him to do things I know he hates because I actually know him."

"What is the point Shisui; what do you want?" One of the Elders said, resigned.

Shisui's eyes spun, and settled into a new pattern.

Up above, Itachi sucked in a nervous breath. No no no no no. He and Shisui had talked about Kotoamatsukami and using it to stop the coup but it was only supposed to be used as a last-ditch resort!

"You will search for other ways to regain the Clan's standing than a coup de tat, which would have been doomed from the start anyway."

It was done.

One sentence, one casual sentence.

Shisui's eyes faded to their usual black and his shoulders slumped slightly. All the conspirators blinked a glazed look from their own eyes, before looking around at each other in a considering manner.

Mind still frozen with dread and shock, Itachi turned and ran through the vents, and away into the night.

Damp and shivering, black fur snagged and tangled from running headlong into one too many bushes, a lone cat ignored the squirming, cramped sensation under his skin and pushed open a window.

Halfway between sill and carpet, there was a twist and a blur, and a very human Itachi lay on the floor.

"This was not the outcome I envisioned when I told you to take a break," came a retrospective mutter above his head, before Kimimaro put his arms around him and somewhat roughly manhandled him onto something soft. His sense were still settling, so Itachi couldn't tell if it was the sofa or the bed.

It could only have been a few minutes later that he smelled something vaguely sweet and buttery hovering over his face, then pressing against his lips. He pursed them tight shut.
"Itachi, either eat the jam and bread or I force-feed you."

His pride; very rare now these days, he was both proud and ashamed to admit; reared it's head. He kept his mouth shut in defiance, despite the hunger pangs tearing through his stomach.

Sticky jam and buttered bread was suddenly smushed against his cheek.

He jerked upwards, scrambling upright and opening his mouth to protest, only for another slice to be rammed between his teeth. As he choked around the bread, he saw Kimimaro looking at him disappointedly. "Something bad happened, I can tell. But it's always best to take bad news on a full stomach." His gaze softened. "Please."

Sudden guilt at his own treatment of himself bubbled up through Itachi's veins and he ate.

And ate.

And ate.

Five slices of bread and jam, three apples, a tub of cold miso, some leftover chicken, an entire bottle of Kimimaro's honey-peach-tea and two slices of cheesecake later, Itachi looked up from where they were each tucking into their own separate bags of crisps.

"Shisui used his Mangekyo Sharingan on the coup conspirators, told them to abandon the coup," he explained flatly. "But before that, he...I didn't know he could lose his temper like that. He called them out for all the things they did to me, and...I realised..." He glared at Kimimaro, who was motioning for him to continue with a massive smirk on his face.
"Yes, you were right, the Clan abused me and it was wrong and I don't have to put up with it. Happy?"

Mouth full of food, Kimimaro pumped his fist in the air.

Itachi failed to suppress a laugh at the sight. Ah, it felt so good to laugh, to actually laugh, and let the sheer weight of everything he hadn't realised he'd been carrying just fall off of his shoulders. There was no coup. Not any more.

He...that meant there was no point to being an ANBU! He could literally hand in his resignation tomorrow!

All the time he could spend with Sasuke and Shisui! He'd always wanted to take Sasuke swimming in the river for the day, maybe with a picnic. And now he could.

And he'd always wanted to find an actual hobby; now he could try out some things and pick one he liked!

Oh, the future was full of endless possibilities!

The future...

Finally coming back down to earth, Itachi flopped back onto the bed and idly tapped Kimimaro's shoulder with his foot. "How will this change the future?" He made sure to ask in English, just in case. He received a balled-up crisp packet bouncing off his forehead and a large sigh in reply.

"I am not all-seeing; I don't know if the things I've done will have any affect at all," Kimimaro shrugged. "This...stopping this would be big, but there's too many players for me to predict a definitive outcome. And humans, shinobi even more so, make things unpredictable at the best of times. So, I can't say for sure. But..." his tone was suddenly deadly serious. "There's a man out there with a one-eyed swirl mask. He isn't who he says he is, but he's by no means weak, given his insanity...He went through a Snap Event, except that someone deliberately took advantage of that to rebuild his Psyche in his image. Then did it a second time for good measure.
And he has the Uchiha in his sights, especially you and Sasuke."

Itachi's spine stiffened at the mention of Sasuke, but quickly took a deep breath. "One maniac can't get through the entire Village, and the entire Uchiha Clan; it doesn't work like that."

"Exactly." Kimimaro's voice was hollow. "But you were desperate, stuck with hell or high water, and he offered you a middle road that turned out to be paved with bones. The Uchiha wanted you to turn on Konoha and end up kickstarting a war. The Hokage wanted to kill off just the ringleaders and use you and Shisui to rule the Clan with an iron fist.
The masked man gave you a choice; he would spare Konoha if you slaughtered every single Uchiha with the allowed exception of your little brother."

Itachi quickly deduced what happened. "I...I don't know what to say...'"

"Well-'"

"No, Ani-chan," Itachi interjected softly. "A year ago I would have doubted your faith in me. To be honest, I'm both glad that you trust me this much, and, uh, a little terrified! But mostly, I just feel sorry for the Original Itachi; I wonder how far he pushed himself if he did not have you beside him."

"He wallowed in self-loathing, refused to treat his own illnesses in the idea of some twisted self-harming repentance, and manipulated Sasuke into killing him."

"That was meant to be an emotional rhetorical question, Ani-chan. And even though that's the overly simplified version, I'm still horrified."

"Don't worry, I don't count you being resurrected as a regenerating zombie as you dying...ish."

"Wait, what?"

"Oh, and you still have jam on your face."

Next Time:

"That is an egg."

"..."

"Why is it green? And the size of my head?"

*smirks* Aww, happy endings, happy endings for everyone! *throws confetti*
Hm? Oh, please ignore these ominously cackling notes behind me; that's my plan for the rest of the Arc. Heheheheheh

As always, read, enjoy, and review if you can.

P.S. Constructive criticism is appreciated.

P.P.S. Random fangirling/boying is very much appreciated.