Chapter Twenty: A Flickering Flame
Canon-Manga Info: Before I begin anything else, I'd like to point out something significant regarding Itachi and Sasuke's relationship: Kotoamatsukami (KA) is a very powerful Genjutsu. It completely overpowers the person's mind and rewrites a command over his present convictions or mental state and makes him do its bidding. This was the Genjutsu Itachi had reserved for Sasuke. Mind you, it doesn't fade away as Itachi stated, which is why Kabuto intended to rewrite the Fuda in Itachi's head; he also stated that a command ("protect Konoha") had been "overlaid" the Edo Tensai (ET) command; hence, the reason why it had to be physically rewritten by Kabuto, and which is why he tried to do so repeatedly during his battle with the Uchiha siblings.
Now, this command was active the entire time Itachi was chased by Sasuke; Naruto had already told him of Sasuke's intentions to harm Konoha and Sasuke told Itachi himself that he was going to destroy Konoha, as well. For all intents and purposes, Itachi, despite his convictions, should have struck Sasuke down no matter how much he loved him—just as ET made him do Kabuto's bidding despite his Jingoistic tendencies.
He didn't do anything. Instead, he stated that " . . . but I want to impart at least this much truth to you: you don't ever have to forgive me. And no matter what you do from here on out, know this, I will love you always." If the character himself is stating that he's telling the "truth" and will "lie" no longer, then there's no need to flip-flop around this and come up with pointless justifications. He's admitted that he values Sasuke's life far more than the zealot in him that craves Konoha's supremacy (Sasuke's free-will or mental stability is a completely different matter, of course, which he doesn't value one bit—never mind his schizophrenic tendencies to not make sense as a character!). Also, don't look at Danzō's use of KA: it was quite terrible as Sharingan will work best with an Uchiha as they are "genetically adapted" to utilise the eyes to their full capacity (Mifune broke through Danzō's KA through a simple interruption in conversation whilst Itachi's use of KA cancelled out ET; and Kabuto kept trying throughout the battle to re-write the ET Fuda inside Itachi's head).
So whatever you read in the coming chapters has been taken directly from canon material. Now, this chapter will begin a bizarre relationship between Hinata and Itachi. It mostly develops upon Itachi's take on the whole affair, and you'll begin to see Itachi's true colours—slowly but surely.
# # # # # #
The three of them stood under the vast expanse of Konoha sky—the horizon began to bleed out into a new morn; in this forest's heart, the first morning songs from blackbirds swelled and broke the stillness in the damp air.
A light rain was falling on the sides of Itachi's pale face, his eyes fixed rather impassively upon Karin as she knelt by the tunnel that had caved in last night. He had his hair in a (loose) ponytail—a habit he had not discarded ever since he grew them out more than two decades ago.
Hinata stood beside him, her face a little fearful under the smooth fringe that whipped her wet forehead. Her hands were in tiny knots at her sides as if she was ready to strike out at anyone; but she was fragile—fragile enough to feel the shower of dead leaves brush against her face when wind shook out the final bits of Spring's life from the trees, which stood tall and proud, nearly still, around them.
She remained quiet, counting and measuring her breaths as carefully as possible. The way rage broke over Sasuke this morning . . . she did not want to draw Itachi's ire, as well. She had made a terrible mistake, but she was not ready to lose the battle just yet. One more chance—that was all she wanted!
Karin's face was covered in the thinnest film of rain, the gleam of her young flesh visible through the wet blouse. She wore a black undergarment—which was soaking wet—and the cotton blouse clung to it for its dear life. Her face suggested nothing whilst she concentrated on the spot by pointing two fingers up; she was gathering chakra to sense. Hinata could not tell whether she was successful or not.
Karin looked over her shoulder, and autumn's morning mistiness broke her face into colourful patterns as the sun rose ever so slightly in the sky. She drew her lower lip slowly through her teeth and inhaled a bit loudly to speak, "I can't sense anything. Whatever it was, it's gone now."
No expression invaded Itachi's eyes. His face was like the whitest clay mask that melted into the subtlest expressions when his guard was not needed. As painfully handsome as he was, without Sasuke around, his face appeared waxen and lifeless. Hinata felt a slow shiver dance through her; was she wrong in placing her trust in him? Something about him scared the wits out of her.
He kept looking at the spot where Karin was, his Sharingan out now, scanning the area curiously. The fingers of his right hand were curled under his chin; the other, rested under his elbow as if supporting it. He maintained that deathly silence for few more seconds, and then his Sharingan finally disappeared. "The rain?" he asked and fell silent again.
Karin raised herself to her feet and dusted off the dirt caking her knees. "Doubt it. The rain isn't heavy enough and it wasn't that long ago, anyway. Sasuke immediately sent me out here, so no one could've run past me—not even a rat."
"Unless, they ran for the hills up North," Itachi spoke, his mouth suggesting the disposition of an eternal sceptic. The more Hinata looked at him, the more she realised that Sasuke, with all his passions and wildness, strove to mimic his brother; there was no emotion she had seen on Itachi that Sasuke's face did not assume with sheer delight—only with less subtlety and experience. Sasuke adored this game of mimicry; it was a sacred ritual to him!
Karin gave a little shake of her head. "I should've been able to sense it. Even if it was a Bunshin. My sensing range is accurate for thirty kilometres. It fades, afterwards, but I should've sensed something—anything," she said and rested her fists on her hips. "This tunnel was built to fool her."
Hinata made a little angry squeak of protest, but Itachi interrupted her as if he did not hear it, "break it apart," he spoke, and his voice sounded clearly strange in the wind.
With a quick nod, Karin made a hand seal. A small gasp escaped Hinata's lips before she could catch it with her hands: four sturdy-looking Chakra Chains appeared out of Karin's back; they looked ghostly—things for show; but she knew better than to be deceived by appearances. She stepped back, ignored by Itachi who knelt down, stretched his arms, and rested them on his knees. A long kunai dangled from the lazy grasp of his long, long fingers—thin and snow white, they did not make him look any less unnatural.
Stones flew out and few of them were ground to dust by the mechanical looking tips of her Chains. In seconds, she cleared out the heap of misshapen stones and revealed a space underneath. She did not look at Itachi this time and hopped in. The colour of her red hair deepened in the shadows that still gathered by large numbers in the tunnel.
After a few rustling and coughing sounds, she leapt out and landed before Itachi. His head was bent slightly to the left, and a look of mild interest crept slowly over his face; but the transformation was so sluggish that Hinata felt that his unyielding face would never catch on. It was a Theatre Show of pretence: the brothers loved to hoodwink everyone . . .
"It's like you said, Itachi-Sama. It was a tunnel—large enough for one small person to crawl through. How did you guess?" she asked, and suddenly, a mischievous smile broke her fair face. Hinata thought she was pretty, with her kittenish features, rare pink eyes, and a small button nose and a soft mouth. Deep-red freckles coloured her cheeks, giving them the illusion of a blush. Her red hair clung to her cheeks; and few, to her forehead in a naturally clumsy manner; at this moment, she gave the impression of a girl child who wore a badly cut imitation of a rose petal for a cheap theatrical drama.
Itachi rose to his feet and stood erect, his face blank. "A hunch," he spoke, "it appeared to have been created to trick Dōjutsu users. How many seals?"
"I counted eight on both sides before the debris blocked my path. I'll bet they run all the way to the opening I found near the compound," she explained and turned her head to look south.
"I underestimated this matter. How foolish of me," Itachi spoke and put away the long, odd-shaped kunai, "but how unlucky for you, Hinata."
Hinata looked away, her small mouth, a blur of its former hue, twisting down in worry. Yes, how unlucky for her: Sasuke threw her out of the squad this very morning, after he had spent his rage and shouted himself hoarse. Had Itachi not been there, she would have been amongst the walls of her lonely home by now—the silent walls that ate away at her joy and drove her mad—slowly.
Itachi reasoned with Sasuke, and, reluctantly, he came around—all because of the simple fact that she saw the prisoner. Sasuke told her to get out of his sight. She still remembered the sting of his voice, rising with violence, that nearly shattered the passions they shared together.
She felt a lump come up to her throat, but she swallowed it down, hastily. Itachi saw the soft movement of her throat and spoke, "now, what to do with you?" His voice, still gentle, seduced her white eyes, and, timidly, she raised them to look through the strands of her hair. "Karin, go and report to Sasuke. He needs to know what we have found here."
Hinata did not look in Karin's direction, but she knew Karin was running away as the soft splashing sounds of her feet dimmed in the pitter-patter. "I asked you something, Hinata?" Itachi asked again, his voice quite flat.
She looked up and stared into Itachi's eyes that did not hold any human emotion. They were empty, cold, and strange, and despite herself, she felt fear at Karin's absence. "I-I'm sorry," she said softly, her lips forming each word with care. "I don't know w-what came over me. I can't apologise enough."
"You disobeyed me when I told you not to leave your position unless it became a necessity. You made a foolish error of getting the flare wet. You did not heed the crow's caws. Tell me something with utmost honesty, do you enjoy being coddled like a child with no sense whatsoever?" he spoke so slowly and in such a deliberately torturous manner that she felt his every word wound the little will left in her. Still his face was cold, void of the touch of anything soft and human.
Hinata's eyes grew bigger and bigger and her mouth opened in shock. She did not know what to say. The tone of his voice was humiliating. His face was the same: it suggested nothing, yet it was that lack of suggestion, that lack of expression that made her fear him. How had she imagined that she would have (any) sway over the Anbu Captain? How foolish that small reassurance seemed to her now.
Her lips moved but nothing came out. "Sasuke can be rash, unreasonable even—but he was right this time, and I had to go back on my words when I told you I would not challenge his decisions again. Do you have any idea what you have done? I have shamed myself. The prisoner is dead, and we have a full-scale inquiry on our hands," Itachi spoke, his manner of speaking exquisitely frigid, each word whipping her pride raw.
"I . . . " she made a small sound but nothing more flowed from her mouth to accompany it. She dropped her gaze and looked at her feet; she felt nothing but shame.
"Look at me when I speak to you," a cool voice came from his lips that drew her gaze quickly to his eyes. "It is always the eyes that give a man away. I do not like it when people hide their eyes from me. It is as though they are playing a game right under my nose." His eyes were narrow and cold—so cold that she felt something sinister come out of him. She did not know what it was, but it made every bit of her shudder with fright. Sasuke was just a coarse imitation of his anger and passions: they ran deep and thick inside this older one.
He pressed a thumb to his lips, moved it across them harshly, and wiped away the raindrops with haste. Blood rose in his lips the next moment—warm blood that suggested life on his waxen face that had the same odd beauty Sasuke possessed. "I doubt you have any idea, you foolish damned-girl," he spoke. "You will obey now, and you will do exactly as I say. This matter runs deep, and I warn you not to do anything that is not asked of you."
He fell silent, and in that stillness, his face passed into an expression of curiosity for just a mere second before that, too, disappeared. He looked less natural, too lovely now. Hinata did not like him—he mocked her; but she knew she had it coming since last night. She had braced herself for this humiliation, and so far, she was proud of herself. She had not broken down before them; she had not spilt any unneeded tears. Her pride was still hers!
"For now," he began in a surprisingly soft tone, "I want you gone to the Trainee Ninja Lodgings. You will not leave the grounds unless I tell you to. You will not talk to anyone, not even Sasuke. You will not speak of anything unless I ask it of you. I will send Yuu to train you every day for the whole week. You will have to pull through the trials, because as it stands, you are unfit for any field missions. Is that clear?"
Hinata nodded and looked at the light breaking the greyness in the sky behind him. Rain had stopped and light shone through his hair, his face soft and calm under the ink-black hair. He looked so like Sasuke that it broke her heart to hear the indifference in his voice. He did not say anything and stepped around her; he did not stop and kept walking towards the denser trees; then he simply disappeared, a dark blur in the forest.
Convinced that he was finally gone, she let out the loudest sigh and slumped down to the ground. She wiped her face on her sleeve and smiled. It was tough facing these two daemons, but she had conquered her faltering will today, and that made her happy!
Light was still breaking the sky apart, flooding upon the cluster of Konoha buildings, when Hinata made it to the Lodgings. Several people were smoothing the ground churned to mud by the persistent rains and countless steps.
She looked at the slightly ajar gate slick with rain and stepped through it. Several eyes fell upon her, and then came a steady sound of whisperings from the workers. She had become a topic of discussion amongst many women and workers: a married woman who defied her in-laws and father to become a Shinobi again. Miyuki had told her as much in her letters: people were talking, their tongues wagging behind her back, but people always liked talking.
She was glad that Miyuki had told her. "Word gets around," she said in her letter a few days ago. "Don't let it discourage you, Hinata-Sama. You're an inspiration to all women who can't escape their domestic burdens. I wish you all the strength and happiness in the world."
Hinata had sent her off to her relatives, with full pay for a few months. She needed to spend time with her family in another village in the Fire country. The image of her own house flashed through her mind: she had not been there for days. The flowers in her window must have rotted away by now—pots overflowing with rainwater. Did she close the window when she left? Her kimono, her lamp drawings, camellia . . . all of them must be ruined, soaked through with water—damp and useless. She breathed a deep sigh, her eyes catching sight of Yuu marching towards her.
He was the same, his countenance calm and cheerful. He greeted Hinata with a warm smile and stopped close to her. Then he bent his head sharply down when his sandal landed in the mud, and he winched. "You got here in one piece?" he asked and the smile returned as he slowly raised his face. "Itachi-Sama just sent me a hawk from his office. All the official details are here." He held out a scroll in his hand, with a soft smile on his softer face.
"Where will I stay?" she asked and looked around at the long line of quarters stretched from end to end at the edge of the vast, misty grounds.
"Yes, I should show you your quarter. Itachi-Sama won't be here until a couple of more minutes," he said as if talking to himself and then he turned around. "Follow me." He gestured and Hinata started walking behind him.
Raindrops dotted her cheeks and traced the puzzled contours of her face: Itachi had more to say to her? She did not raise her head as wind drove the clouds south. They were letting go of the final bits of their strength on Leaf.
Lost in thoughts, she had no idea when Yuu paused in his steps by a locked door. Then he unlocked it with a heavy-looking iron key and swung it open. The room was small, and there was only one window above the side-table. It opened into the garden at the back, with flowers growing in the sunlight. There was enough space in the room to walk around. A thick mattress filled with cotton was laid out on the bed, raised above the chalk-white floor by legs longer than six inches, she imagined.
She saw a clear stream beyond the window that ran alongside a cluster of stems sticking out of the ground. Only one that grew in the shade had a bud on a fresh and pliant stalk: a budding Purple Lily—Sasuke's favourite! A smell of pleasure descended over her, so sweet and pleasant, but it disappeared quickly. Maybe she drove it away herself. She did not know. She turned her gaze and saw a cupboard in front of the bed. The room was sunny and well-kempt—comfortable enough.
Hinata did not mind that she would be here for a week. She had no desire to go back home. She did not care if rainwater flooded her home and splashed onto the stone-pathway to ruin the pots there; she did not care if it destroyed the fake splendour of her garden; and she did not feel anything for the overgrowing moors. She was done. Her strength was gone for those chores.
Just when the thought pulled out a delicate thread from the web, she heard noises behind her. Turning around, she saw Itachi standing near a group of Trainee Shinobis—all of them bowed, shouted honorifics and morning greetings. He still bore the cruel signs of the same expression on his face. It was always the same face, day after day, subtly and cleverly managed by meagre emotions. He said something to the ninjas and they scattered, and she found herself jogging towards him.
She came to a clumsy halt and bent her head low in a courteous bow and whispered a quick greeting he did not answer. He was still angry or as angry he could have been in his own bizarre way.
"Go and explain the details to the group. They will have their tests for the night's Field Missions tonight. I need to speak with this girl," he commanded and Yuu walked away, leaving her alone with a man who really did stir the worst kind of panic in her.
Hinata raised her eyes this time, remembering his cold words: the eyes, they tell a man's tale. And what did his eyes tell her? Nothing. He was too clever; no, his eyes were too clever to become weak and mist over with pesky emotions; no, they were at his command and she at his. How ironic were his words when his own gaze told her of no memories from his past.
Itachi closed his eyes for just a moment, and she unwillingly found her own gaze lingering on his face. She looked at a few raindrops clinging to the rich dark fringe of his lashes. In that small serene moment, he reminded her of Sasuke again. O' darling eyes, tell me your tales, she thought of the folktale's words again—not of him, but of Sasuke; but when he opened them, the same emotion blazed in his eyes, red with his clan's mark.
She saw his lips move and got forcefully thrown out of her memories of her childhood . . . and of Sasuke. "The matter is settled . . . for now," he began as he stood straight—his expression, a veil of mysteriousness again, did not delight her, "we made a yarn of a self-destruct seal on the heart. Mist tricked us. The lie was bound to go in our favour. What would they have said? We lied to you? Made fools out of you? His memories are lost to us forever—and to them, as well." He let out a weary sigh.
As true his words were, Hinata could not understand why a lowly prisoner was of such value to him; and as if he had read her willing and open mind, he threw her a hard look of reproach. "You are not being informed out of some misplaced notion that you are a trained shinobi, privy to everything," he spoke, "no, you are told things so that you would not end up jeopardising my brother, for you have left no stone unturned to ruin him in the darkness of cold nights."
"Itachi-Sama, I—"
"Kindly, let me finish," he cut across her icily. "You are as hasty in your speech as you are in your mannerisms. And let me tell you, that is never a good combination. Sasuke should not have dismissed you. I knew he would have come around by nightfall, but it was necessary that I protected his pride. You see, I did not want to see him cringe before you—before anyone. It was one of the reasons why I stepped in."
Hinata nodded and felt a sob swell painfully in her throat. She sucked it in and clasped her fingers together. He could not have made their intimacy more obvious. The curves of her cheeks were red with shame, but she stayed quiet. He was not going to tell. It was still a secret. Why did it matter? She thought stubbornly, cutting the threads of her clan's honour. It was a just a tale to her now.
He continued, "as clever, brilliant, and dexterous as he is, he is still a child—my child. I have been everything to him ever since we lost our parents. I have to guide him whenever and wherever he falters, missteps as a child would. And this was that moment. There was a chance someone could have murdered you before you even made it to the threshold of your house. You had seen the prisoner, and you lack discipline and are too naïve to do enough to even save your own life."
He bent his head and wiped his eyes on the back of his hand, ridding himself of the droplets hanging from his lashes. "Imagine the mess," he sighed and appeared to look at something beyond her, "a defiant Hyūga girl, taken in by my brother, murdered in the dead of the night. The scandal would have ruined him. I could not let that happen. Part of the blame lies with him, as well. He was hasty, and in his eagerness to prove the Hokage wrong, he pushed you—and you crashed, foolishly, as I knew you would."
Wind picked up the pace and forced her well-combed hair to shake loose from the ponytail she had made. In the daylight, Hinata gave the appearance of a ruined young woman, fighting and struggling to maintain her calm. She did not cry. She did not flinch. She stood calmly and looked back at his eyes as he had asked of her—the eyes told a man's tale. What do they say about me? she wanted to ask, but they were not that frank . . .
"Karin has placed a seal on you," he spoke, drawing out a fearful expression on her face, "but do not worry yourself. It is a Memory Seal. Your head would be safe from others forever. I think you should consider it a blessing, given the nature of the nightly mishaps that stalk your steps."
There—it was that taunt again, wrapped beautifully in his voice's smoothest tone. There was no use lying before him. Yes, she wanted Sasuke. Let him know—let him try to read my eyes. He knows everything . . . what was left to read from her now? Hinata cared little for his taunts. She tucked loose strands carefully behind her ear and waited for him to resume. He seemed to be distracted by something, with his head turned to his right.
Without looking at Hinata, Itachi reached to his back and locked his hand to the hilt of a Kunai and unsheathed it. He held it out and spoke, "keep it. Consider it a gift from me."
Timidly, Hinata reached out and took it from his hand. She ran her eyes over the sharp hilt that glistened with droplets as they slipped off its surface. It was unusually long for a Kunai and looked more like a dagger. Then she remembered that Sasuke and he carried one similar to this one, too, though theirs were longer. "Thank you," she said in a small voice and looked up at him, noticing no change in his demeanour.
"It is made by the kunai makers in my Clan. I am giving it to you as a sign of good faith that you will work hard and pull through. It is imperative that you do," he spoke and looked away for a second at the group again. "Yuu will train you and I will come by every evening to evaluate your progress. If need be, I may train you a bit myself, but do not be foolish enough to count on it. I do not have spare time for anyone but my brother these days."
She muttered out a weaker 'thank you' again and clasped the kunai firmly in her right hand. Then, just like that, he left the grounds, without looking behind him. Her gaze, whose soft texture was thick with anxiety, followed him till she could see him no more . . .
It was a strange life on the Training Grounds. She had never eaten breakfast with so many strangers. She had to stand in a long line and hold out a plate to get a freshly baked loaf of bread, rice balls, a nice omelette with berries, and that necessary cup of milk. The Dining Hall was just outside the grounds, and it was noisy.
Ninjas around her chatted, laughed, and discussed the coming examinations. It was difficult to weave a thought in that din. Hinata did not mind. It excited her. No one was curious about her. No one bothered her with questions. Here, she was not a wife who escaped her domestic life: she was a woman training to be a shinobi.
Many ninjas were not even from Konoha but other villages in the Fire Country. They would be stationed in the police, guard, and military-unit squads throughout the country. Konoha was the centre of Fire Country's military, and every ninja came here to brave through the trials and return to their own villages, with emblems of honour on their foreheads and backs.
She did not see Naruto anywhere in the Hall. No one from Sasuke's team ate breakfast here. Jōnin-led squads were not allowed to occupy the quarters and crowd the hall; those were the rules; but Neji came from home and ate breakfast with her. His pale face, framed in deep-brown hair, was ruddy with excitement. He told her all about the examinations, trials, and the life of being a shinobi on the grounds. She could not have been happier.
He did not hurt her with questions, and she did not ask anything about her family. She wanted to be reticent, and silently, he understood. Their eyes met for the briefest moment, white looking into white, and something in his face changed. It was as though he could pull at a loose string from her heart (just like a Romance Folktale, exciting!); but the moment faded, not to return again in the little hour. He left quickly, abandoning her in a flood of memories and spicy smells intruding her private thoughts. It was a confusing, ambivalent atmosphere.
Sun broke through the last clouds with force, its rays shimmering on the countless droplets scattered about the ground and corrugated roofs. When she stepped out of her room, after wearing her Genin uniform, she was asked by Yuu to stand in front of an orderly line of ninjas to the far right. Everyone was scrambling to form a line: it was like being back in the Ninja Academy!
Hinata stood with her legs slightly apart and hands clasped behind her back. She chose to assume the same posture as everyone else. What would Itachi say if he found her standing like a timid girl with hands at war with one another, anxious and sweaty? Probably nothing kind . . . ninjas poured into the ground, and within minutes, the stone-path in the middle was flanked by hundreds of ninjas on both sides.
The Squads' Jōnins stood in front of their teams—at a short distance from the other Jōnins. The teams behind them assumed the same posture. As the sun hung in the sky, their shadows stretched out long behind them on the drying ground. Hinata's gaze roved along the lines of ninjas standing stiff under the sky that was equal to all Men—she thought.
Sai lead the Sensor Squad: he looked so sickly pale in the light; his hair, tar-black against his complexion. Some six feet away stood Shikamaru in front of the Strategic Squad; his features were quite subtly transformed to reveal boredom (it was an old story for the character of his features).
Shizune stood opposite her: she had been leading the Medic Squad ever since her appointment as a Jōnin Medic few years back. Rumours filled the academies a year ago that Sakura would take over and Shizune would be promoted to lead the Medic Trainees' Academy, but nothing big happened. She was a capable young woman who was from the same Chūnin-class Itachi and Hinata's uncle attended in the past.
It was in the past now as Itachi was their superior. Sometimes, Hinata wondered: how did Itachi's peers feel about being led and whipped into action at his slightest whims? They probably would never be comfortable with shrugging off their frankness to cringe before their peer. An unsettling feeling weighed down upon her heart; did all of them feel that way about Itachi, feel about him the way she did—afraid and curious and anxious before the rarest prodigy Konoha had ever produced? She took in a deep breath. For now, it really did not matter to her.
Hinata's eyes wandered right: there stood Sasuke, his countenance tight, from extreme control he exerted over his face and body, as he faced east, leading the Espionage Squad. Just behind him was Neji. Itachi's eyes shifted subtly to another nameless emotion for a moment when he passed by his sibling. It did not miss her eyes. Her heart took to thudding, putting out such noise. It could never be tamed by her when Sasuke was around. She felt weak, so far away from the shores of reason; but it did not matter; these irksome thoughts of rationality seemed foreign as longing rose in her again like an old habit, cherished by her body.
She wanted him to look her way, challenge her eyes, maul the passion in their depths; and perhaps, share it with her like a meal just to bring her heart joy; but his red was cold today. He still had not forgiven her for her mistake. It angered her. It was his fault, too. Why should she bear that onus alone? It was his to share, too; but his gaze did not want to leave the sun, which rose to its godly perch to the East.
Disappointed, she pulled her eyes away. She did not want to keep looking at the face that was devoid of warmth and woe. Itachi began to say something to the teams' leaders, but his words were like buzzing flies in her ears—her mind lost and defeated before passion's assault. It had been many nights since she had last seen her home and felt the heated touch her body was so eager to experience again.
When would his rage blow over? It had not followed in the wake of yesterday's storm. She never really expected it to; but she foolishly hoped and prayed for it to thaw on its own, somehow. She was turning into this selfish child who eagerly wanted him to be available to her whims now. Was it wrong to be this way? She clenched her teeth, narrowing her eyes in anger upon the yellow flowers that quivered by her feet. She would take anything now, even a touch of fantasy to soothe her anxiety. He was beyond her reach . . . for now . . .
Sensing a calm reach her spirit, Hinata closed her eyes and breathed in the air. Then, opening her eyes back up to the morning light, she resigned herself willingly to the fates. First, she had to overcome this hurdle life had thrown at her. Sasuke lay far beyond that steeple of her desires. She would climb to the peak when the time was right. She could not let herself be carried away upon the ebb and flow of her own tides. She would not, or else, it would be the end of her.
The meeting lasted for several minutes. Itachi droned on about missions and teams; honesty and integrity; and whatnot; his words meant nothing to her as she was just a bystander amongst them, waiting to be picked up from the sidelines. She should never have given up this life. The shame of being on the outside felt more pitiful than she had hoped. She never wanted to taste this again.
Everyone scattered when Itachi was through with them. Sasuke and the other team leaders disappeared, too. Itachi treated her with the same disdain as before and passed by her without giving her a glance. He, too, left the grounds after giving Yuu some instructions. Then it began, the impossible morning training! She ran several laps around the ground. By the time she stopped, her body ached all over.
Hinata placed her hand on the tree when Yuu gave the trainees a break. Her shoulders bent—she was winded. Even in the chill that came straight from Autumn's bosom, her skin burnt with the new ordeal it experienced. Warmth unleashed a scarlet blush upon her cheeks. Blood went hotly through her body and to her heart that beat erratically and without rest. She could hear it pound everywhere inside, but she did not stop.
When the time was right, Yuu gave her a little chakra that was hopelessly weak compared to Sasuke's. She wondered: is he even an Uchiha? But at that moment, it did not really matter. She focused her chakra and created a dagger-like aura that still lacked the evenness Sasuke always required from her. It looked no better than before, but she would sharpen and hone it with courage and skill. She re-created the daggers; and so it began yet again, the gruelling exercise of repeating the same task over and over again . . .
She kept at it all morning, stopping at lunch to take an afternoon nap, afterwards. The window was open, and before leaving, she espied the closed bud of the Lily, which stood aloof whilst her nights ached, still young and swaying and shaking in the breeze. It would bloom in a week or two. She could not say for sure . . .
By evening, the sky grew purple and sombre; the crescent grew in the sky. The clouds were gone and the grounds, lit with torches. Flames crackled and burnt tall. She stood with other ninjas on the grounds. Some practised Shuriken-Jutsu, others Ninjutsu and Genjutsu dispelling techniques. She was left with the same task, and by the time night fell upon them and the sounds from Leaf turned dull, Yuu asked her to make the daggers one more time: they were a bit better shaped than before.
Then Hinata heard the clang of the closing gates and caught a glimpse of Itachi leaving the grounds. How long had he been standing there? She did not care. Yuu let her off for the night. She ate dinner at the dining hall and left for her room before anyone would ask her of her progress. She did not see Neji at dinner, so there was no point in staying there any longer. When she reached her room, she was so tired that she fell down on her bed and fell asleep . . .
Next day was the same, but Jōnin Team Captains were not called to the grounds. "Mondays are Report Days," Yuu told her. A steady stream of ninjas came and went. She was invisible. No one stopped to ask her anything. It was heaven. Time passed by quickly here.
Soon, the whole thing became a habit: she would wake up in the morning, eat breakfast, train, and take a few breaks and crash on her bed at night. Itachi would come by in the evening to see her progress, but he never bothered to interact with her.
When the week came to a close, her daggers started to gain more shape. They were no longer horrible looking; the tips were slightly round and their edges smoother than before.
"This is fantastic!" Yuu said, smiling as she sat down on the bench with him on the edge of the grounds. The forest in front whispered, angered by the lights that disturbed its sleep . . .
She smiled in return and stopped the chakra flow; but was it enough? Monday was only a day away, and she was not prepared for the test. The thought sucked the joy out of her face, and she looked away to hide her embarrassment.
"Don't worry. Itachi-Sama has extended the tests' date. You've been given two more weeks, along with the rest of the ninjas," he explained. "Rains made the training difficult for a lot of trainees—many couldn't make it here in time because of the deluges."
Hinata's spirits lifted and a smile broke the melancholy on her face. Lifting her head, she looked skyward, but something dampened her spirits and spoiled her happiness: Sasuke had been to the grounds twice today to recruit ninjas for C-Rank missions. He acted as if she was not even there. She wanted him to say something to her . . . be angry with her, show disappointed in her, shout at her even; but her heart could not bear his indifference. She turned her head sharply towards the glinting stars in the sky. The glaze over her eyes broke into tears. She quickly wiped them away, but Yuu saw it.
She felt his hand on her shoulder. "You'll be fine. It's normal for people to break down before the tests. I've seen many ninjas run away. You're stronger than most," he assured her and wore a kind smile.
"Thank you," she said weakly, not wanting to share her heart's burdens with him. She hated this weakness. She had learnt not to show others her shame; but this—this longing without an answer from him—seemed beyond her spirit, her control.
"You'll become a part of the team soon. Sasuke-Sama can be strict, but he makes sure that everyone gets a fair chance," Yuu said and took a drink of his sake.
"You speak highly of him," Hinata said, her voice coloured with curiosity—a part of her wanted to know more about him still.
Yuu let out a little laugh and scratched the back of his head. "I used to be his attendant. I'm only a year older than him. We used to play together as children. He changed a lot after his parents were killed, but he made sure I received education in the academy—make a life for myself." He took another sip and looked up, lost in thought. "I'm only half Uchiha, you see. Women rarely have Sharingan in the Clan and my mother didn't have one. She belonged to the lower ranks. She also married into a poor family in Rain. I was left an orphan in my childhood."
"I . . . I'm sorry," Hinata said and a look of genuine remorse came into her eyes. She never knew the man before her had faced so much and still conquered life. It gave her hope, strength that she could be him in the future. (It was just one of those small moments in life that really touch one and become one's anchor: a universal tale of courage and hope in the face of impossible odds.)
Yuu shook his head and turned to look at her. "No, it's a'right. It was a long time ago. I never knew my parents. Mikoto-Sama took care of me, and after she died, Sasuke-Sama took that responsibility. He paid for my education. Now, I've got a home in the Uchiha village and 'am his assistant. He worked hard to reduce the caste differences between our clansmen. He's a great man. Still—we are forbidden to marry outside our clan by law now. Well, you win some, you lose some," he said, smiling as he took a final swig of his sake.
"Really? Why?" she asked, hesitant.
"It divides the Clan's wealth—many clans are greedy for our name. It protects the Sharingan's legacy. In the Shinobi world, secrets, bloodlines, and name are everything. It was wise of the council to make this decision. I'm not against it. The young brothers are carrying on the tradition. Maybe Itachi-Sama will change it, but who knows? It's a small matter in my eyes," he said and placed the empty cup down by his feet.
Hinata did not know what to say. He might change it—a heartless man like Itachi? Her throat hurt and it was not from the sake Yuu had just offered her . . .
Days went by quicker than she had hoped. She caught glimpses of Sasuke from time to time, but she was invisible to him. She did not let his frigid attitude cloud her judgement. She had begun working on her Byakugan skills and improved them a bit. Every time day turned into night, she would sit on her bed and look at the bud. The stem had grown a little now. It would take it a few more nights to bloom into the young purple lily when the moon would grow round and full, high up in the sky!
When the final five days were upon her, anxiety found a terrible home in her heart. Itachi came by as usual. Out of habit or simply to check upon her? She could not say. He came to her when the last four days were left and asked her to demonstrate her Shuriken-Jutsu skills. She used her Byakugan and threw shurikens close to the middle dot in the bullseye. He was not impressed. He told her of a neat trick: she was to twist her wrist a bit and focus on the middle point with her Byakugan and use Air-Palm together with Shuriken-Jutsu to make it work.
Hinata tried it a few times, and on the fifth try, it pierced the middle. Itachi's face remained blank, and he did not say a word. Everything about him felt mundane and habitual. He came and went, unnoticed on daily basis—life as an Anbu Captain had hardened him? He was just an enigma to her. She could tell that he really despised her because of the affair. It hurt her when she thought that he would be happy to know that Sasuke had almost completely abandoned her.
What was she to Sasuke now, a lover he had discarded? Her lips trembled, and she wept silently in the light of moon that was nearly full, distinctly visible. It was the final night—the fateful night—and, tomorrow, her fate would be decided. Yuu had assured her that she would make it as a full-fledged Genin. She had done all that she could; she really gave it her all. Bringing her hands close to her face, she gazed at the scars from the hard work that dimmed her fate lines. They would heal come tomorrow, but the wound Sasuke left in her heart . . . would it heal? She let out a defeated sigh and left for her room . . .
# # # # # #
Sun rose up in the sky, high and golden like every other day, but it was not the same for every Man today. Hinata was to be put to the ultimate test! When she stepped out of her room, ready for today's battle, the ground was teeming with ninjas. They were told not to eat anything for the tests. She saw a few men slumped over fallen trees, vomiting out thin streams of yesterday's dinner on the grass. She turned her head away. It was making her sick!
Thank goodness, she only felt a little hungry. She had eaten to her heart's content the previous night—her hunger was conquered. Yuu called her to stand in front of a long line of anxious-looking young ninjas. She did not know what kind of people stood behind her, but she soon found out when Itachi told them that they would get their Genin Licenses renewed once they demonstrated the following skills: Shuriken-Jutsu, Nin-Jutsu, and Genjutsu Kai; Shunshin no Jutsu and basic Kekkei-Genkai or Hiden if they possessed such abilities; and, finally, basic Taijutsu manoeuvres.
Sweat broke out on her red face. She was nervous. Itachi called her first to demonstrate her Shuriken-Jutsu skills. She was to throw five kunais and five shurikens right at the middle of the ten bullseyes five metres from her in fifteen seconds. She stood still for a moment to get fresh air into her lungs and took out five shurikens and kunais from the sack. When Yuu told her that her time had started, she blanked out for a second.
It was easier than she expected. She mastered the trick Itachi had told her, and with her Byakugan on, she threw two at a time and got the job done in ten seconds. The kunais and shurikens were pinned to the dot right in the middle. She felt so happy that a broad grin broke her tense face. She looked over her shoulder to find Itachi looking thoroughly uninterested next to Yuu who was waving at her energetically.
The whole ground was in a state of chaos and people shouted left and right. No Teams were allowed on the grounds today as it was reserved for tests. Everywhere she looked, Jōnins from Anbu Squad shouted orders and oversaw the proceedings. To her delight, Itachi wanted this expedited as he had an official matter to attend. He combined Ninjutsu, Taijutsu, and Genjutsu Kai for her to test out her bloodline abilities.
For this test, she was pitted against an Anbu Chūnin. Hinata bit her lower lip but steeled herself for the task. Turning on her Byakugan, she noticed that controlling her chakra made it easier to manage her reserves and command her body. He took out a wooden sword, a fake for the examinations, and charged at her. He was fast, but she had been practising for a month now. She evaded him with ease, and as he flashed by her, she saw an opening and blocked two of the big chakra points near the joints in his arm.
The arm that held the sword fell limply at his side. A stunned expression came over his face, but he took the sword in his other hand and charged again. He was much faster this time! It appeared that he was holding back as he was dealing with a Trainee Genin. He swung the sword with poise and grace, and it was impossible to out-manoeuvre him now. Hinata tried to hit his arm again, but his reactions were so much faster than hers.
He thrust his sword towards her, but she deflected his movement with Air-Palm. It knocked him back, but he landed gracefully on his feet and came at her again. Itachi was standing quietly with a blank face. He had not stopped the ninja.
"Itachi-Sama, he's testing her on Chūnin level! This is—"
Yuu fell silent when Itachi raised his hand. He did not understand why Hinata was being tested beyond what she trained for; but the training Yuu put her through was a bit advanced for Genins. He did not say anything more and looked on as Hinata dodged and swivelled around the Chūnin with difficulty, puffing and blowing, trying to land a single hit on him with everything she got.
He cast a Genjutsu on her, but she had already closed her eyes. Byakugan allowed the clan members to fight blind—its sight went beyond vision; it did not have any effect on her. That gave her a chance. She used Shunshin no Jutsu and closed the gap between them quickly and managed to brush her finger against the core chakra point in his stomach. He winced and jumped back, but not before he had knocked her back with all his might. She flew across the wide gap and crashed into the ground, hard.
He had used a large amount of his chakra and released it against a single point on her shoulder. It was dislocated. Propping herself up on the right elbow, she bent her head down and vomited; but she did not let the unbearable pain stop her. She raised herself to her shaky feet and knocked her shoulder back into place with Air-Palm. He was not completely unscathed, as well. She saw that his Chakra Network was hit. He looked a little disorientated, his eyes unfocused.
His face was knotted with humiliation and anger. He took the same stance again, but before he could lunge at her for the second time, Itachi spoke, "that is enough. Are you trying to beat her to death with a wooden stick? Goodness." O' Sage! Hinata hated the way he said that—hated it! He almost sounded amused! The man stopped, seething. Then, when he realised that it was Itachi who had spoken to him, his face caved in upon itself. He was sweating now.
"I-I apologise, Itachi-Sama, I didn't—" he stopped suddenly, staring down at his sandals.
"This is a test, not a battleground. You did not realise you were going well beyond the limits of the examination?" Itachi spoke calmly, his face betraying little. "You people are always in need of supervision—even in tests. I wonder what sort of men throng Anbu Division." The man said nothing.
"I have already seen all she has to offer. Serizawa."
A man appeared suddenly next to Itachi; his Anbu feline-mask was still in place. "Yes, Itachi-Sama."
"Conduct the rest of the tests with Kai, and bring the reports to my office in two hours. I have an urgent matter to attend," he spoke and looked down at Hinata. "Your trial has come to an end. You will receive the result by evening. Vacate the premises. Few other ninjas are coming in from the village near the Capital, and we do not have many rooms to spare."
"B-But," Hinata began and wrapped her fingers around her shoulder, "I can stay in the academy, can't I?"
Itachi slightly tilted his head and looked at her with the strangest expression that was an unholy mixture of surprise and amusement and disdain. "Things do not quite go here as you wish them to. There are rules for stay on the grounds, and you have already exhausted them. You have a house. You have no purpose here."
Hinata bent her head in disappointment and did not say anything more. He left silently. She raised her head and peered through the curtain of her hair, flopping against the forehead, to watch him leave from the grounds—his face a delightful visage of emptiness. She wheezed and slumped down onto the ground. The pain in her shoulder was unbearable. She looked at it again. The joint was mostly fine, but the pain had yet to diminish.
Yuu sat beside her and focused his chakra on the damaged tissues. Within moments, the wounds healed. She thanked him and walked away from the area. She sat on the bench there for several hours, not caring about her hunger or Itachi's words. Home . . . what did it really mean to her? Finally, unable to resist the urge to eat, she went to the dining hall.
The ninja who was to take Hinata's place was already waiting in the dining hall. He was kind enough to let her collect her things. If she were to be honest with herself, she did not want to go back. Sasuke had been kind enough to let her stay with him. She stayed for a few days at the academy after that incident. Did she really believe she would be able to escape her house forever? She sighed. No, that was foolish of her.
Quietly, she stood by the sturdy bed. Her bag was packed with meagre things she had brought with herself: a towel and few kimonos. She did not pack anything her father and husband gifted her. She hated the colourful kimonos that reminded her of her life as a neglected wife and shamed woman. These were made by herself during the nights Naruto would leave her for days.
The room was cold. Hinata's eyes and throat hurt, and before she could gather the will to silence her young emotions that had yet to be tamed and bent by the strength of age, anger and loneliness beat her to it. She was weeping, trembling all-over; she squeezed her eyes shut and felt the tears burn new paths down her cheeks. She had beaten just one hurdle today. How much more would life test her?
Standing alone in that room, Hinata really had no answer. The small window that opened into joy's garden was closed. Sasuke had left her. Did he really care, at all? She would ask him. She had to know. She would find the courage to confront him. If she wanted him, then he, too, did not rebuff her. He was just as much to blame as she was—an accomplice in her shame. Itachi and his self-righteousness be damned: his brother was no saint and neither was he!
She brought her fingers to her cheeks and wiped away the tears that had stopped coming. She moved her gaze slightly and looked into the garden: finally, the purple lily had bloomed into a youth that was most beautiful, bewitching to her senses; night set it aquiver amidst the hues that danced round as though in prayer; moon shone upon the young petals. The flower shivered, its tiny veins silver like moon, which ran through it in the manner of blood.
I must know—I will know! Hinata thought to herself, eyes upon the lily still moving in the wind. Then she slung the bag over her shoulder and left the room in silence.
The walk back home was lonely, but the steps were familiar to her. They traced their path with perfection—a path she had followed for four long years from the moors to the heavy doors that trapped her inside for another day. The sounds of trees, owls, insects filled her ears; but the silence inside her was loud. She had no idea when she reached inside her home, the click of the lock behind her breaking her thoughts.
Her gaze wandered and found nothing out of place. She removed her sandals and put the bag beside the shoe-rack. When she reached her room, a rueful sight greeted her: rainwater had splashed onto her bed; the kimono she had spread out on her bed to dry had made blue stains all over the white sheets; the painted-lamps lost all colour and were left colourless—they lay plastered to the floor, ripped and dried up like leaves.
Emitting a sigh, Hinata rolled up her sleeves. She did not want to sleep in a dirty room. It took her an hour to clean up the mess. She tore up the kimono and tossed it into the sunken fireplace, along with the ruined paintings. She would make new ones. They were only clothes. When the job was done, she raised her hands to look at her palms. The wounds were healed, and her fate lines appeared clear on her palms; but her nails were dirty.
Tonight, Hinata did not have Miyuki to help her out: she had to make tea and draw a warm bath herself. When she sat down into the warm water, it was past nine p.m. This was the first time she felt that she had truly relaxed. She smiled, thinking that maybe she should go to the village and buy herself some ramen. She liked the spicy one with less pork. The ramen guy would be serving it now!
Stepping out of the bath, Hinata picked out the red kimono she had made for herself last year with Miyuki. It was made to celebrate Naruto's success in one of his missions. She never really went to the celebrations and was left behind to attend to her father's documents.
Hinata put the kimono on enthusiastically and brushed her long hair with great care; she folded them into a bun at the back of her head and stuck two ornamental combs there to make it stand out. She wrapped a brighter obi round her waist and then looked at herself in the mirror. The only thing left to do now was to turn off the stove. Hinata hurried back to the kitchen. She had just turned off the burner when a knock came upon the door.
She did not think the result would come out so soon. Her face flushed. Yuu had assured her. He told Hinata that she gave the best performance amongst the candidates vying for the Genin posts; but was it enough to sway the older, crueler brother who wanted her gone from Sasuke's life? Another knock came upon the door, and she stammered out something incoherent and scrambled to the door. She fumbled with the latch and slid open the door.
Hinata's heart stopped. Why did he have to come, now of all the times, when she wanted to discover the courage to face him? There on the doorstep stood Sasuke. His face was just as lovely, in the lantern's whitest light, as she remembered; and his eyes, which told her of the yarns of her mistakes, strange and distant. He appeared emotionless, a scroll in his hand. She stepped aside to let him in. So many things . . . she wanted to say so much, but words escaped her.
"Your license has been renewed," he spoke after a few seconds, his demeanour calm, lacking the thick exterior she had crafted for herself to hide her turmoil. "I'll send in more details tomorrow about your role in the squad. I usually don't keep Genins, but the situation is different now."
"You didn't have to come all this way to say that," she said, words springing to her lips to say something hurtful to him, and slid shut the door. His coldness and lack of love for her were driving her mad.
"I had to," Sasuke spoke, his tone unchanged, and his eyes fixed on her as he examined her dress curiously, "after the mistake you made, I think—"
And it was as though his uncaring words had finally pushed her over to the edge—she lost that calm. "It was your fault, too!" she spat back at him, her eyes set ablaze with great anger. "Don't blame me for your mistakes. If—if you hadn't sent me, I wouldn't have been humiliated. It's your fault—it's all your fault!"
A frown creased Sasuke's forehead as he looked at her. He did not say anything to counter these silly accusations. "I didn't come here to bicker with you like a child," he said calmly and placed the scroll on the shoe-rack. "I'm not your husband."
"N-No, of course not," she said, anger loud and clear in her voice, which rose steadily with each word, "you're my lover. You use me when you f-feel like it and discard me when you don't need me. You never care when—when I need you—when I want you! Have you ever told your friend that you're sleeping with his wife? I-I wonder what he'd think about you." She sniffled and wiped at her face and nose.
Silence fell all around, broken by the whistling sounds from Hinata. She stood with her fingers clenched, and her body shook with the kind of rage she had never experienced before. Her hair came loose from the perfectly made bun. One of her ornamental pins had fallen by her feet; she did not even bother to look down.
"I told you that night—this was a mistake, but you wanted this," Sasuke spoke, his voice smooth. Her words seemed to have little effect on him. "You knew what you were getting into. What happened? Did your family find out? I doubt that's the case as you seem to be ready for festivities." A smile disturbed his face, and his eyes twinkled with delight.
"You're hateful—cruel—cold," she said, her voice wavering in the heat of emotions. "It's all your fault—it's all your fault—it's—a-all—"
Sasuke sighed out, "I don't have time for this child's play." He made to turn when Hinata lunged forward and grabbed his arm.
"D-Don't walk away from me!" she shouted, and her voice sounded so unfamiliar to her—young and strained with anguish. "Why didn't you stop me? Why—I-I want to know. Tell me!"
A shocked expression graced Sasuke's countenance. His eyes locked onto her tear-stained face. Where was she taking this? "What has got into you?" he asked, keeping his voice low. "You wanted intimacy—a good time, I thought. I gave you what you asked."
"You could've stopped me. You knew it was wrong. You're sleeping with your friend's—" she stopped, wrapping her fingers around the lapels of his office jacket, her body shaking as though submerged in winter's waters. Words seemed to pour out of her. What did she want to say? "Why—why didn't you?" She looked up and stared back into his black eyes that kept the blood hidden just beneath them at bay.
"I could have . . . " he spoke and breathed in deeply " . . . but I never thought you'd take it like this. I can stop seeing you if it bothers you that much. It's not a very serious matter that—"
Hinata let out a laugh that startled him. "Is that a-all I am to you?" she asked, shock-struck, and her eyes turned red with the fresher tears over-flowing. "No matter how much I want you, you toss me away when you don't want me. I didn't have the courage to stop me—you did! You used me. I hate you!"
Sasuke's tongue was shackled to shock that ruthlessly invaded his senses. Would it really be this easy to take her under his wing? No, he would have to hear her say it—say the words that would bind her to him and make this game easy; so he waited, waited for the right words to tumble from her mouth before he would take her to the depths of betrayals, from where there would be no escape!
Hinata's grip slackened, and her fingers trembled as her hands moved away from his jacket. Her arms limply hung at her sides. She had to say it to him. What would it be? Keep the truth from him and lose him forever, or tell him the truth and not weave yet another lie that she only needed him to satisfy her wishes? Time was running out—silence mounted upon silence. She had moments to keep him, and standing amidst the overbearing darkness, she chose truth.
"I—" Hinata stopped and gathered all of her courage to say it, "—I love you, Sasuke." She raised her eyes timidly to look upon that beautiful and cold visage, broken by disbelief: it was a sight to behold. "Why are you so hateful w-when I love you? I've loved you—e-ever since Naruto threw me away, I've always loved you. You've broken my heart. Why do you break my heart—tell me?"
Her questioning eyes, misting over by a layer of so many emotions mingling, gazed up at him and broke the string he had set up for her. A trap . . . and she had fallen in so deep that it was foolish not to taste this faerie-tale-like surrender and let it go to waste. He bent down and pressed a kiss to her lips—his tongue sweet in her mouth.
Hinata did not know when they made it to her room. Her clothes were abandoned, her body hot under the violence of passions he had denied her for days on end. He worked her harder this time, enjoying the fact that she would always be willing for him to take her. When she climaxed, he turned her over, lay upon her, and pierced her from behind, sinking his teeth into her shoulder whilst she mewled without breaths beneath him . . .
# # # # # #
It was one a.m. when Sasuke made it to the sake restaurant. His brother sat at the corner of the noisy hall. Tonight was celebration night! Several ninjas passed their examinations; they had invited Itachi to celebrate with them. He was not the celebrating type, but he gave in as an act of courtesy. He looked a little irritated—Sasuke had kept him waiting . . .
Slowly, he made it through the crowd, avoiding everyone, and took a seat opposite Itachi, after bowing to him. "I have been waiting here for the past fifteen minutes," he spoke from behind his sake cup. "You have no sense of time . . . or responsibility."
"I apologise, Nii-Sama. I was back—"
"—back from vanquishing married women?" he spoke coldly. "Shame on you." An unpleasant expression flickered across Itachi's face for a moment. Then it vanished and he gave out a sigh. "This girl will be your undoing if her family finds out about your little games. I will advise you to cut her loose, but I am the fool in this company."
"Nii-Sama, don't say that—of course you aren't!" Sasuke leant forward, looking utterly shocked as if Itachi had offended him by calling himself a fool.
"That girl is foolish, and she believes she deserves special treatment because you entertain her whims. And, clearly, you do," he paused and took a sip of his sake, "this tastes bitter." He put the cup aside and folded his arms across his breast.
"Why did you come to this place? It's not worth your time," Sasuke said and pushed the cup further away from Itachi; then he mimicked his brother's expression as if he could already taste the cheap sake in the cup put before him.
"It seems my advice is not worth your time, either," Itachi spoke and watched as an innocent frown creased Sasuke's forehead and his cheeks reddened.
Sasuke opened his mouth but Itachi forestalled him, "Root will probably look into this Mist affair. Include this profoundly dim Hyūga girl into the matter and they will know of your involvement. Is that how you want to play this little shenanigan of yours, pulling strings left and right to see which one lands a sword on your neck?"
Sasuke bent his head down and averted Itachi's eyes. Tonight, he was in the lecturing mood—again. It was best to stay quiet. "What is the matter with you? Do you want Danzō to come knocking upon your door?" Itachi asked, keeping his voice smooth.
His younger brother looked up—his eyes flooded with stains that collected together to create his Sharingans. "And you would aid them? Is that what this is about? You didn't do anything to find reasons behind Shisui's sudden death, either. Am I next on your list to scrutinise for Root's sake?" Sasuke hissed, seeing something stirring deep under the stillness upon his older brother's eyes.
"Are you mocking me?" Itachi's eyes blazed without the reds, betraying the tone of his steady voice.
Sasuke turned his head away sharply. The intensity in his brother's eyes was troubling his sanity. They held the power to pick apart his thoughts and leave him naked. Despite their seeming gentleness, they terrified him—always. He closed his eyes and let out a loud sigh. "Forgive me, Nii-Sama," he whispered, his voice barely carrying itself over the din. The noise in the hall was beginning to bother him.
"Ending the life of all your foes to give yourself a splendid future as a fugitive is not an idea of a happy life you should to aim for," Itachi spoke and turned the sake cup between his fingers, "which is why we must proceed with care."
"I wouldn't mind a life away from Konoha with you," Sasuke said in awe and bent forward with enthusiasm, a smile rendering his face appear like that of the sweetest child's.
"If only it was that simple." Itachi smiled and picked up the cup again to take a sip when Sasuke snatched it out of his hand.
"Don't drink that!" he said with disgust and threw the cup out of the window. "It could be poisoned—you can't trust these men from random villages!"
"It tasted as terrible as poison," Itachi spoke, a little amused. "You did not tell me about the culprit leaking information. I am not that familiar with your team's routine these days."
Sasuke did not reply, and his face changed with irritation at the sight of Sakura; she had walked in with Sai. "I told her not to associate with him," Sasuke said, "but she would take anyone, as long as it's the next best thing."
"Sakura is talented. You let your irritation cloud your judgement. She could be useful in gathering information regarding the prisoner," Itachi suggested.
"Her?" Sasuke asked incredulously as if his brother was tired and not in his right mind to weave a coherent thought on such a serious matter. "I might as well just buy myself a grave. I'll bet it's her. She's left no stone unturned to use Tsunade to stay on the Squad. And now look at her—she wants me to stop her absurd behaviour and create a circus-show. She's mad."
"That is quite interesting," Itachi mused and pressed his knuckle to his lips. "How long has she been around this Sensor?"
"Few weeks? I don't know. Tsunade gave her several elaborate permissions to train with him and accompany his team as a Support Medic. I never authorised it, but I'm a villain in her eyes," Sasuke said and looked away to escape the ever-ready trap of her eyes.
"She has the Hokage under her thumb," Itachi spoke, "or she enjoys playing favourites—the female touch as I call it."
Sasuke emitted the softest laugh, his cheeks sweetly red. "I never thought something like this would interest you. Are you bored?"
"Do I look bored?" he asked in a manner that was almost too curious for his nature, but Sasuke only smiled. "Has it not interested you? It should. Do you not find it strange that she is training with a Sensor Squad Captain and the Hokage is authorising it? I never received any authorisation letters. Of course, the Hokage is free to bypass all authority, but to avoid any channel altogether . . . is suspicious."
"Unluckily, I don't have your resources. She could be planning my assassination and I wouldn't know—not till she leaves me to rot in the wilderness with one of her lazily made concoctions," Sasuke said, with a wry mouth.
"Pessimism is the death of joy," Itachi spoke, smiling. "I will look into this matter."
Still amused by his older brother's sudden interest, Sasuke gave a slow shake of his head and called the serving-man to their table. Itachi turned his eyes and looked at Sakura, his expression hard. Something new came alive in his eyes and words came to his lips and he whispered, "the next best thing?" The expression on his face faded, but its raw intensity hovered in his eyes for a moment longer . . . before they, too, returned to their black and blank state . . .
# # # # # #