Chapter Twenty-Three: The Tides Change
Canon-Manga Info: The Sharingan not only grants a variety of different colours to different chakras but it can also zoom in on far-off objects. The Byakugan also gives the chakra colour, but it's in the monochromatic range. That's the reason why Hinata couldn't tell Obito's chakra apart from the chakra inside Shino's bugs when he'd slipped into the tree.
Sasuke saw Deidara's nano-sized bombs (Obito, Toruné's tiny poisonous parasites inside himself) inside his own blood-stream. The Sharingan can also see chakra deep inside the earth (Deidara battle), behind solid stone (Kabuto battle), and the chakra network (various remarks, along with visual confirmations, from Sasuke, Itachi, Obito, and Madara confirm that). It can also see the Bijū and its chakra and suppress it by going deep into the Jinchūriki's consciousness. That's something the Byakugan can't do. In fact, at the Valley of the End, Sasuke could see Kyūbi's chakra more clearly than Neji while his Sharingan had only mutated to 2-Tomoe (his Sharingan progressed to 3-Tomoe right at the end). After mastering his Cursed Seal of Heaven, Sasuke saw Senjutsu Chakra in the cave very clearly during his battle with Kabuto (Itachi couldn't). That's another thing the Byakugan can't do. This shows that the Sharingan is astronomically more chakra-sensitive than the Byakugan that can only see far (with an added element of x-ray vision, which is rather pointless as the Sharingan can see through pretty much everything).
The "seeing through" advantage the Sharingan has isn't limited to Chakra alone; it extends to Genjutsu (illusion), as well. The Sharingan can see through any illusion with ease and render it completely ineffective (the only reason Sasuke and Itachi couldn't overcome the Sound Genjutsu from Kabuto is that he'd enhanced it with Senjutsu; even then, both of them broke through it by superimposing Sharingan Genjutsu over the Sound Genjutsu). Kurenai's best Genjutsu was reflected back by a 3-Tomoe wielding Itachi. That's something the Sharingan did automatically as it deemed the illusion to be . . . well, fairly weak (whilst it simultaneously made the Genjutsu ineffective for Kisame). Kurenai had to break through her own Genjutsu. Same thing happened to Shī when Sasuke saw through his best Genjutsu and nullified it for Jūgo, too. Kurenai and Shī both are Genjutsu prodigies. The Byakugan users can fight with their eyes closed, but they can't see through Genjutsu.
Keeping all the aforementioned factors in mind, it's fair to say that the Sharingan's far more effective in varied situations, unlike the limited range offered by the Hyūga Dōjutsu.
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Red stared down at her face, close, filling up the space between them. Then it drained away, and the room waxed into existence, his face gaining the clear contours, hazy and obscure a moment ago. Calm, yet a little whiter today, his face was still so like his younger sibling's that it haunted her even when she was wide awake.
When he spoke, a voice came from his lips, venomous words tripping from his tongue: "it is a little mark. Shinobis are accustomed to violence. You should steel yourself. It will not get better." He stretched his hand and moved her hair aside to look at her bruised neck again, red fingerprints on the fair throat—wings pinned to the wall.
"There is no need to call in a Medic. It will heal itself." He brushed his finger against the healing skin, drawing a hiss from her, and then he drew his hand back.
"Itachi-Sama, I . . . " Hinata whispered, unsure of what to say, and fell silent again, and helpless tears threatened her composure; Sasuke attacked her, even if she had told him of her love. Her lower lip shuddered, and she felt a hard knot of pain in her heart. He really did not care . . .
"You came in late today," Itachi spoke slowly and folded his arms across his breast. Her worries were not enough to penetrate the perfect-white stone his body was sculpted from. "Perhaps you are taking advantage of the leverage you have?"
She raised her head, confusion settling upon her face. "I-I don't under—" she stopped and looked beyond the weak light of autumn sun, which came in through the window on the right.
"Do not try and play clever with me. You know why you were kept and under which circumstances you re-gained your post. There is no reason for me to make you recall any theatrical show of your mishaps," he spoke, the rancour of his words hidden behind the workings of his sweetest tongue.
Hinata's cheeks burnt raw with embarrassment. It was no surprise that he loathed her with all his heart. No matter how smooth his face, how controlled his passions, his words were enough to shame her. She raised her gaze a bit to look at the same uncaring visage of arrogance look back at her—unflinching and unsympathetic; but there was no use arguing with the Commander of all Jōnin squads. No, even she was not that foolish!
"You have gained much arrogance overnight that a small explanation and an apology are beyond the horizon of your reasons?" he asked in the same smooth tone as if it was a tangible leech that remained glued to his tongue, feeding off his arrogance to give off more arrogance and venom in delicious, rippling waves.
"I—" Hinata stopped, and her heart tripped like a bird in a trap, "—I was afraid. Y-Your brother—he nearly killed me yesterday!" She grasped at her breast with both her hands as though stopping her heart from leaping out of her body—that needy thing that made her lust beyond reason for Sasuke; it was truly never under her control. She staggered back to catch her breath as if something knocked the wind out of her.
Itachi walked through the light, and it parted open like obedient curtains that flowed to the rhythms of morning breeze. He stopped and moved down his right glove and showed her a scar that ran all the way up his arm before disappearing under the sleeve.
"I received this when I was fourteen," he explained and moved his fingers over the scar, evoking long forgotten memories left behind in the marks of old stitches. "It was during one of my missions. The man nearly wrested my arm off. He could have succeeded had I not been swift. One misstep can throw you so far down. I can even lift my shirt and show you more on my breast, but this is not an exhibition and nor are we that . . . intimate." He pulled his glove back up over his healed injury and regarded her with impassive eyes.
"But—" she began breathlessly, her eyes brimming full with tears now.
"But? Is that a defence for your unbecoming and arrogant attitude?" he asked, his voice thick with anger, yet smooth and unchanging. "With whose permission did you cross the boundary of my chamber to disturb my ailing brother? You were told to leave, yet you, it seems, have taken it upon yourself to cross me, disobey me, show me a persistent display of your ever-inflating ego—repeatedly," he spoke, and his exquisite eyes glimmered with the Sharingan's fiercest fires that revealed the furies of his pride and passion.
"Itachi-Sama, t-that's not true—" she stuttered like a child and squirmed under his hard-as-stone gaze.
"Is it not? You have such power over me that you think yourself to have me under your little thumb," he paused and created a smile on his face that merely made a crack in his hard countenance, "let me make something very plain, Hyūga girl, I tend to prune the branches that cause me worry." He stepped away from her and leant back against his large office table.
Hinata's eyes grew wider; her eyes misted over as a tears materialised across them. She blinked and felt them crawl down her face. Her cheeks were itchy; and, hastily, she raised her hand to wipe them away. "I-It won't happen again—I promise you," she said with sincerity and gave a bow.
"Your sincerity is without merit. It is as fickle as a greedy man's pride," he spoke and pressed his finger to his lips, thinking; his mouth had lost that insincere smile. "Do not bring up that little mishap in front of my brother. He does not need to know."
Colour flew from her lips. He could not be this cruel, this unjust, this blind to his love for Sasuke? "You can't be—? Your brother could've killed me! And you—you ask so much of me, Itachi-Sama," she whispered the final words and bowed her head to hide her anguish.
"You are a strange girl. You ask for much, yet have little to offer—other than your persistence to shame me," he spoke, his manner of speaking no less frigid; he cared little for her troubles. In fact, he did not care for her at all. She could rot and burn from the coldest cold in the darkest pits of his gaze's hell for all he cared. "He attacked you for he was delirious and ill. He thought you to be someone else. The Sharingan can play tricks on the mind if its chakra is disturbed."
"He thought I was . . . someone else?" she said, her voice tiny, to herself, her face growing uncertain.
"There is no need to repeat things after me. It is a simple matter," he spoke, his eyes upturned to look beyond the large window at the first autumn flowers blooming on the trees that stood in the well-kempt lawn. Workers hewed the wood and were cutting some parts in short sawing motions. They were building new offices for the Anbu Division: it would be completed in a few months and he would shift there. This building was to be attached to the Medical Division in the coming months—one of the many expansion projects sanctioned by the higher-ups.
"I don't understand," she said, her voice and manner timid, and her shoulders slightly stooped as if bent from his weighty gaze.
"There is nothing to understand. Forget what happened. Had you not ventured into the chamber, he would never have been roused from sleep. You suffered through your own foolishness. He attacked you for he did not know you. Shoulder the blame. It would be a healthy change of pace from your spine's natural routine that never bends out of the need to remain arrogant," he spoke and clenched his jaws, softly, as if on the verge of speech, but he did not speak another word, waiting for her to say something foolish so that he could bruise her again with more cutting retorts.
"What if he asks—attacks me again? I-I can't, Itachi-Sama—I can't!" she protested, and her eyes roamed on his face that naturally mimicked his brother's features with near perfection: he was a curse upon the younger one from Nature!
"Let me tell you a little story," Itachi began and straightened his spine, "there was once a talkative monkey who spoke of things that got a child prince into a lot of trouble. When the news reached the king, he sent out some men to deal with him. Months passed and no one heard any of his foolish stories. You know why?" he whispered and came closer, his face hidden behind the ghastly emptiness, which clung to the approaching paroxysm of a sensation, which twitched few muscles around his mouth with the final thrums of another passion. "He had no tongue."
Hinata's eyes grew wider; her face, losing the last colours of life. Sweat came oozing from her pores, and her body shuddered with the near exquisite urge to make itself known to her: it was still alive! The shuriken pattern in Itachi's eyes vanished, and he backed away—slowly. "Carry out the mission Sasuke left you. You are to make it to the border with Yuu and two more Chūnins and meet up with Suigetsu and Jūgo. Sasuke sent them out alone. They might need assistance. You may leave now," he spoke and turned around to pick up his sword from the table.
She did not need to be told anything twice. Somehow, she found the strength and resolve in her body to bow before him like a dutiful soldier; then she left in silence, her heart thundering inside her as though it had suffered a near miss from being nipped by the hell hound . . .
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Sunlight floated upon mist, and it was carried away like an enthralled lover—sounds of the release of her pent-up breaths sawed the air. Sensing was taking a lot from her strength. This was not her forte, and Itachi, Leaf's Anbu Commander, did not appear all that impressed. A crease disturbed his smooth brow; his face always fought vehemently against the nasty intrusions of emotions. "How long have you been training?" he asked, his voice several degrees colder than the indifference in his expression.
Her mouth, snapped shut like an iron-trap in concentration, parted to speak: "I think you know, Itachi-Sama." She bent her eyes and made them crawl unnecessarily around her sandals.
"Your humour does not amuse me—do you enjoy bypassing etiquettes? Sasuke treats you lot like children. Sometimes, his leniency surprises me," he spoke and reached to his back to pull out three kunais—each wedged between two fingers.
Nervously, she began to pet and pat her Chūnin Jacket. She wanted to speak, but the resolve to will her mouth to say something brash before this man was . . . a terrible idea. He flicked two of his fingers and signalled her to get behind him. His eyes, still looking over his shoulder, urged her to use sensing again, even though she was holding onto her chakra's final threads.
Sakura did not falter, pointed two fingers up, and concentrated on the spot beyond a thick clump of bushes about seventy feet away. Dry leaves stirred and Itachi threw three kunais at the tree on the right. They ricocheted off the bark and speared sharply inward. An agonizing howl struck the cold air. Itachi vanished and appeared at the spot where the ninja was hiding. Sharingan was still present in his eyes.
Sakura ran behind him and stopped short of the body. Her eyes fell upon the man's face: his forehead was stabbed through with all three of them; his face had contorted and frozen with his last battle against pain. He was dead. Her eyes travelled up to Itachi's face, who seemed to be examining the dead man's chakra as if on the verge of some amazing discovery. She did not understand why he even needed her when the Sharingan was capable of breaking through the boundaries of such distances.
After breathing out a sigh, she lowered her eyes. It was some sort of test . . . and she failed quite miserably. Did Sasuke put him up to this? Anger made her tremble, and she pressed her lips together to bite back the curse words she had in store for him. He was used to shaming her. He liked to break her pride and remind her of how frigid his flesh was to her, which could not be affected by love—certainly not hers!
Sakura was beginning to feel like a fish that tripped by the shoreline, inches away from tasting the waters to save itself. He was close, yet impossible to feel and touch. Her body broke apart under his gaze, a gaze that kept her spirits beyond an impossible barrier he had gleefully constructed around himself. She was this intruder, a pariah, for his body that refused to relinquish itself to her . . . even for a few moments of passion that would ease her worries.
Oh, how she felt Sasuke was cruel to her. He would gladly bed women who enticed him, made him vulnerable in throes of late night passions; but her? She clenched her cold-touched fingers, nails biting harshly into the flesh of her palms. Fury went rushing into her eyes, making a home in their depths—forever trapped beneath the currents of her irrepressible lust for him.
. . . why? All she asked of him were some bits of his passion, some pieces of his lust, let them be born from dreams. She would gladly take what he would be willing to give—no more, no less. Those hours of gazing upon him, knowing that he loathed her, drove her mad and pushed her further down into the deeps of longing, and the seed of hatred for him was already sown.
Sakura could feel it sprouting out from the ground of her lust: a barren land left without a touch or kiss to soothe its ache; its dried mud, a cracked and ugly mosaic, without a drop to quench its thirst. A gluttonous need to be satisfied by him left her raw with anguish and more lust; and it grew and it spread. The reaping was at hand, and the more he pushed her away, the more it climbed, gaining heights till it would touch her heart and poison it against him. This was not how she had dreamt of things to be when she used to read folktales in her childhood . . . love was not meant to be this hard . . . every girl child wished for a prince . . .
Anger kept clinging onto Sakura's face, her eyes two wet stones. She raised them slightly to look at Itachi kneeling down beside the body. His face was affected by morning that lent softness to his features, and his countenance touched the cords in her heart. He looked almost like Sasuke—almost, with silly missteps by Nature.
Now, an ocean from her pandemonium found its calm, its tides finding that perfect rhythm, their ebb and flow musical under the pull from the moon. Closing her eyes, she took in a deep breath, and her nostrils flared with the scents of crushed flora beneath their sandals. He looked so like him, the next best thing!
"Are you lost in some paradise?" Itachi asked and Sakura snapped to attention. "I asked you a question—do you find it appropriate to continue your training as a Sensor? I have heard you are quite apt at breaking non-ocular Genjutsu."
"But this will prove useful for my team," she replied and hugged herself. The temperature seemed to have plummeted.
"Sasuke has appointed Karin as the Squad's Sensor and her skill . . . let us assume that the difference exceeds that between night and day. I am in need of a shinobi who is trained in the fields of Medics and Genjutsu Kai—a free vacancy. You can continue training with Serizawa. He may not be the best in the field, but he is apt for the job," he spoke and got to his feet, his face unreadable and cold-as-winter again.
"I'd like to continue. Sasuke might—"
"You are forbidden to contact Sai again," he cut across her, his voice had that undercurrent of barbed disdain, "if this is all you have learnt in well over a dozen missions, then your progress is unsatisfactory. You are wasting your Squad Captain's time. You did it without his knowledge, as well. Whilst you may have the Hokage's favour, you certainly will not have mine. And if she does play by the rules, she has no authority to override an Anbu Captain's verdict. If I catch you sniffing around in his Team without your Captain's approval again, it will result in a swift dismissal from your post with no recourse to entreaty. Is that clear?" He twisted his arm and pushed a scroll he had retrieved from the rogue's dead body into his pocket.
Sakura gave a weak nod and walked behind him. Itachi had put her in a difficult situation. He stopped by the tree on the right and a crow landed on his shoulder. He looked into its eye red and his own pulsed rhythmically to life. The crow vanished, and for a second, she caught a glimpse of a smile in the light. He took out the scroll and moved his eyes down its contents. Then he set it on fire and its ashes went away with the wind . . .
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"Masks workin' a'right, Zabuza-San?" Suigetsu asked, his voice chirpy, sipping heartily from his trusty bottle. "Mate, it's so dry out 'ere. I might evaporate." He slumped backed against a large rock and heaved a sigh, and his face sagged from exertion.
"The rains have stopped to the south. The clouds might come here. The birds told me," Jūgo said calmly and petted the head of a little bird sitting on his hand.
"Get that thin' away frem me!" Suigetsu snapped at him and flailed his arms about. The bird flew up and disappeared behind the trees. "The damn things poop on me head almost every day now. Yor teachin' 'em ta shit on me head, ain'tcha? Don't play innocent, Jūgo!"
"Why would I do that? Honestly, with Sasuke not around, you can be so silly, Suigetsu," Jūgo said in the same soft tone of voice. He turned away from him and began conversing with other birds that sat in the trees overhead, singing morning songs.
Suigetsu mumbled something incoherent and brought his attention back to Zabuza who wore a completely unrecognisable face: a courtesy of Karin and her family. They created special masks made out of chakra, and no one knew about them other than some Uzumakis in her family. They hid the real faces behind a powerful seal, which was undetectable even by Sharingan.
"Where's your Captain?" Zabuza asked, his voice gruff and thick.
"He sent us ahead ta make sure ya was a'right. His nutty brother probably caught 'im and beat his lil' arse. Itachi can be such a tight-arsed meanie. Ya don't have ta worry about 'im. But," Suigetsu paused and took another sip from his bottle, "ya sent 'im a letter through Karin. What's so urgent?"
"This is," Zabuza said and pulled out a peculiar looking scroll from his pocket. The mask mimicked the contours of his real face: it showed anxiety.
Suigetsu stowed away his bottle and took it from his hand. Its contents surprised him. "No way—!" Suigetsu shouted in surprise, "—no fuckin' way! That shark still lives? So Mei and her underlings haven't made a shark-fin soup outta 'im yet? That sister fuckin' bastard!" He went into peals of laughter and smacked his hand against his thigh as though it was a crude joke.
"There you have it," he sighed, unamused by Suigetsu's reaction. "He contacted me through an unknown man. He needs help. Mist's closing in on him. It won't be long before they start sniffing around where he's hiding. He's running out of places to hide. If your boss wants to act, now would be the time."
"Suigetsu, Yuu's coming this way—he's not alone. Finish this up," Jūgo said from a few feet away.
"How long do I have to hide? Your boss said that this would be over soon," Zabuza said and flashed away from them to the other side of the stone deities that made the line of the border between this region and Rain.
"Just cover yor sweet lil' arse for a lil' while longer. Bitch won't know what hit her. Bye bye, Zabuza-San." Suigetsu waved and crossed his legs on the boulder where he sat. Zabuza disappeared out of sight, and minutes later, Yuu and Hinata, along with two Chūnins, jumped down from the trees. Hinata looked a little out of breath, but she regained her composure quickly.
"You guys all right?" Yuu asked, putting away his Kunai.
"Hold on ta yor pussies, our ninja in shiny armour is 'ere!" Suigetsu shouted, his hands flying out as if he was falling, "we're saved!"
"Oh, for Sage's sake . . . " Yuu muttered and kneaded his brow. "Pick up your stuff and get going. Itachi-Sama has cancelled all of your missions. Come on, let's go!" He flicked his head to one side, urging Jūgo and him to follow the team.
Suigetsu hopped off the boulder and thrust the scroll into his fanny-pack. "He's cancelling all of the missions? I don't like this. It'd be impossible to contact Mei like Sasuke asked," Jūgo whispered, towering over the shorter man.
"I know—Itachi's actin' like a meanie again," Suigetsu said, his face uncustomary serious. "Let's just go. No use stickin' around and drawin' suspicion." He started for the group walking ahead, but stopped to look up at the crow staring down at them from its perch far up in the tree—its neck was stretching out oddly. He paid it no mind, for now, and resumed his walk . . .
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