A/N: Well, here it is. Itachi POV. And, by the way, you are all very much of the awesome for the review response on the last chapter. We are approaching the three thousand review threshold.

Kill Your Heroes

-Chapter Forty-Three -

Aphenphosmphobia (Part IV)

Whatever nature had intended for Itachi, nurture had assured that he was habitually inscrutable.

It wasn't just self-awareness that informed him of this. His teachers and mentors had been in turns pleased and then worried by his self-control; his one girlfriend from his single doomed attempt to pretend at normality—because he'd been seventeen and partnered with Kisame, who welcomed with open arms all life's pleasures and didn't see why his partner should live the life of an ascetic without at least trying the things "normal" men enjoyed, because perhaps he wasn't the perfect martyr, because it was acceptable for even S-class missing-nin to break the facade of perfect, cold indifference when it came to a woman and sometimes he grew very, very tired of being Uchiha Itachi—had made it known to him that she had always felt that he'd kept her at an emotional distance.

Of course, she'd also intimated in the same conversation that his lack of an aggressive sexual pursuit of her was actually a lack of attraction, which had undermined her self-confidence and made her feel undesirable and therefore the collapse of their relationship was his fault.

The Itachi of those days had been an awkward teenager even for all the lack of rampant hormones. He hadn't possessed either the courage or the emotional intelligence to attempt to explain that the pursuit of sex for sex itself had no attraction for him, but if she'd first allowed an actual relationship to develop and then clearly made herself the aggressor—subtle hints of sexual attraction weren't something he'd been skilled at interpreting at the time, as he seemed to lack that inborn instinct for it and most of the more blatant ones were frankly distasteful—Itachi might have been willing to share more of his body than he had. He had been tempted to point out the brief dates allowed by his demanding mission and training schedule hadn't managed to make her much better than a stranger even after "dating" for a year, but by that point he had been aware that sleeping with perfect strangers was regarded as a coup by most men.

Even without his peculiarities, however, a lifetime's training would have made him cautious about such vulnerable intimacy.

Yet here he was, years later, bemused by a very different kind of vulnerable intimacy and finding that shield of inscrutability challenged by what at first glance had been an unassuming young kunoichi. When he had altered his plans, he'd accepted that there would be risks and complications. No matter Jiraiya's connections, he'd assumed it would be difficult for the Sage to find a medic-nin who was both skilled and willing to collude with a mass murderer.

So he had not expected much from Haruno Sakura in those first days. Now he watched her in the same way that he watched Kisame, with an awareness that a person that had one hour been an ally—perhaps even a friend—could turn against him in the next. She'd been a possible threat from the moment she'd been read in, from the second he'd allowed her to touch him with her hands aglow with chakra, but his evaluation of her as a real and present danger had waited for that instant when—without a single handsign—she'd plunged him deep into a genjutsu so textured, so layered that it wouldn't have shamed any member of the Uchiha clan.

Even those rare few that had achieved Mangekyo.

There had been a certain look in her eyes when he'd opened his and seen through the lens of the Eternal Mangekyo for the first time that had chilled him. Haruno Sakura had proved herself to be a creature of warm, ready emotions these past few days. Not unprofessional, no, but more willing to move past well-entrenched impressions than he'd expected. Even with the mitigating circumstances, it should have been hard for her to move past what he'd done. He'd anticipated passive-aggressive tactics, if not outright dislike. Sakura had displayed nothing more than a certain wariness in that first day, which had been the first signal that there was more to this kunoichi than the wide green eyes and candyfloss pink hair would suggest.

Even then, he hadn't anticipated that unguarded moment when she'd moved her hands away and her eyes had met his. He would have understood fear—either in instinctive response to the sight of his eyes or in anticipation of reprisal the genjutsu—or even pride, which would have been fully justified given what she'd accomplished, but what he'd seen instead was the hard, satisfied look of a kunoichi who was not surprised by her own competence.

It was compelling, that justified self-confidence; for all the moments of well-spoken, polite, kind kunoichi he'd seen in the several days they'd shared, it was only then that he thought she was powerfully, undeniably charismatic.

One day, perhaps one day very soon, the world would know she was a force to be reckoned with.

Providing, of course, that she survived long enough for her legend to bloom.

"May I ask why you did not choose to become a medic-nin?" Itachi asked as he joined the kunoichi on the engawa, where she'd retreated after doing what she could to ease his breathing and apologizing for not being able to recreate the same miracle she'd wrought with his eyes. "You have the skill."

"That might be true," she affirmed as she shifted to watch him as he settled himself next to her. "But skill isn't everything." She hesitated briefly before locking their gazes in a way that was almost confrontational, those wide green eyes now narrow and assessing.

"I'm a coward," she stated brazenly, evenly, like someone else might admit to liking the color blue or that they preferred their udon cold. "Being a medic-nin would become my excuse. To not take action, to delegate the danger to others. Eventually, I might not have been a medic-nin at all, just a medic. It's...easy, when others are there, to step aside when they're loud and eager and all you can think of is how much it's going to hurt when they hit you."

Her shoulders hunched inward slightly at that admission, as if her recall of past injuries was so sharp and present that to mention it was to relive the sensation. He wondered then how different it might be to craft such terrible, immersive genjutsu without the advantage of his doujutsu. "I don't think you would have let your fear conquer you," he volunteered softly.

He expected her to blush or demur. He did not expect her to say, "Like it's conquered you?"

This time there was no "almost" about the shattering of his facade. Shock seasoned with anger welled up from his core, finding their expression on his face and in his body language. His habitual courtesy evaporated under the unexpected strength of his own response. He had been called—and had deserved—some truly nasty epithets, but no one had ever insinuated that he was a coward. Most of those people slinging names had been like the wind blowing in Iwa to a cave-dwelling fish in Kumo—he'd never felt their opinions ripple the tranquil lake of his emotions. Only those people whose thoughts he valued had the ability to make his anger burn quick and indignant; somehow in these few days Haruno Sakura had become one of those select few.

"Oh?" It was only a single syllable and he did not raise his voice, but he infused in it with all his displeasure.

Sakura's eyes narrowed, but she did not flinch back. If anything, her shoulders straightened from their defensive posture and she leaned slightly forward, her hands clenching against the edge of the engawa with such force he could hear the wood groan in protest. "You are basing your actions on secondhand intelligence and an impression of your brother that is almost a decade out of date. You're afraid to find out what Sasuke's made himself into after all these years."

"That's a little insolent for less than a week's acquaintance," Itachi retorted coolly. "And whatever Sasuke is or is not, it is my fault. I made him what he is. And I trust that my brother was strong enough to be tempered by what I did, rather than shattered by it."

He hadn't noticed that he'd been unconsciously leaning forward until Sakura mirrored his posture, which put them uncomfortably close. But he didn't pull away and neither did she.

"I want to change the terms of our agreement," Sakura told him. "Before I correct this," and she reached out, splaying one hand across his chest while the other remained clenched tight on the edge of the porch, "I want to see Sasuke with my own eyes. No, not just see him. Talk to him. And then I'll come back and show you what he's become. Then youcan reevaluate this plan."

Itachi searched her expression, seeking hints as to why she'd suddenly grown bold. "What has changed? You wouldn't have said such things only a few days ago," he demanded.

"They say familiarity breeds contempt, but I don't think that's true. Familiarity just reminds us that even the people we respect and fear are human. Familiarity breeds an awareness of fallibility. I respect you more and fear you less than when we first met, which is what makes me willing to say something, but I've always thought you were wrong. And it isn't just that I don't think Sasuke has the kind of mental fortitude you're gambling on. It's that your plans just stop, just like that," she said, pulling her hand away from his chest and snapping her fingers to illustrate her point.

"Once you've stopped whatever it is that changed your mind about dying on Sasuke's blade, what then? You die and you make him our problem instead? You give him your eyes and find your peace, while we get to discover what your stupid, unstable doujutsu becomes when you plug it in to his brain?" Sakura snapped.

"Stupid?" Itachi repeated blankly, brows furrowing.

"Stupid," Sakura insisted firmly. "From what you've admitted and what I know from senpai, your Mangekyo states provide wildly different capabilities that hardly even seem related. The Byakugan generally varies only in the distance one can use it over. It's stable, like inheriting your parents' hair color. Your eyes are like...willfully infecting yourself with a heretofore unknown parasite and hoping it's symbiotic. But you're distracting me. Sasuke. I want to see him. I want you to see him."

"My brother has not been your teammate in years; we have known each other for only a few days. I suspect it is not for his sake or mine that you're being so aggressive about this."

The muscles in Sakura's jaw clenched tight. "If it was only about you and Sasuke, it would be your business, but it isn't. If you're gone and Sasuke becomes a threat to the village, who do you think they'll send to hunt him? Without you, we only have one ninja really equal to combating the Mangekyo Sharingan. And he's my partner." Her lips were thin, unhappy line, underscoring the hard expression in her eyes. "Even if he wins," she said quietly, "Kakashi-senpai might never recover from it. Maybe that makes it sound like I think less of him than you think of your brother, but real trust, real respect—real love—isn't built on the illusions they show the world. It's about the person they are at their core. I know Kakashi-senpai. Do you know Sasuke?"

Itachi gentled his tone, curbing his anger and irritation. "I've watched over him all his life. In the cradle, as a toddler, as a child. I was there when he was learning to speak in full sentences. When he'd rather chew on his wooden shuriken than practice with them. As he managed to struggle against my father's expectations without coming to resent me for them. You've only known Hatake Kakashi for a few years. I doubt that you know your partner as well as you think."

Sakura scowled at him and he found he couldn't resist the urge to smile at her, flicking her forehead gently as his annoyance ebbed to a manageable level. "Don't make that face," he chided. "I will offer a compromise. You will have some time before our next contact. If you happen upon Sasuke, I promise to listen and consider whatever you might have to tell me about him. But that is all."

"What part of that is a compromise?" Sakura asked incredulously.

"I am not your partner, Sakura," Itachi replied. "I am your lead on this mission; you are here to provide a specific service. You may feel free to offer advice, but unless it relates directly to my health, I do not feel obliged to take it. Understand that I have not shared all my reasons for acting as I have. In return, provided you do not use your genjutsu skills to attempt to manipulate whatever you observe to suit your own bias or attempt to manipulate my emotions, I will allow you to not only tell me, but also show me Sasuke."

Though Sakura didn't seem satisfied by this, she nodded curtly in acknowledgement of his decision. The comfortable silences he'd enjoyed after she'd gotten over her initial nervousness were replaced by an uncomfortable interlude filled with closed-off body language. When she spoke, it was to say, "If I don't leave soon, senpai will literally loose the hounds. Do you have any idea when Akatsuki plans to move against the next bijū? Because as funny as it would be to feed Kakashi-senpai a story about sneaking off to meet a secret boyfriend or something, it's unlikely that I'd even hear the news until we returned to the village if we were on a mission."

Itachi had already considered this and had a ready solution. "You are familiar with contracted animals?"

"Yes. Why?"

"We can meet here if Akatsuki takes another jinchuriki and you receive word of the capture in time, but most of the remaining bijū belong to unallied countries. There is a good chance they will do everything in their power to conceal the sudden reduction in their military strength, which is in large part why the Akatsuki can operate with such impunity. I could send a message to Konohagakure, but as you pointed out, that is no guarantee that you will be in the village. There is also the possibility that you might find it necessary to contact me."

"And contracted animals are the solution to this quandary?"

Itachi inclined his head and nipped down hard on the side of his thumb, smearing blood across the hardwood. Chakra twisted space and time, pulsing a call between this porch and wherever the murder had chosen to roost. They emerged in a silence punctuated only by wingbeats, the formation executing a tight turn to land themselves in a scattered semi-circle at their feet. Not all the crows that now surveyed them with bright, intelligent eyes were directly contracted to Itachi—rather it was their connection to the contracted members of the murder that allowed the summoning jutsu to work for them.

A lively sense of curiosity, a puzzle-loving nature, and a surprising helpfulness when the fancy took them were what compelled them to come, so Itachi never quite knew how many crows would answer his call. He'd tugged on the threads binding him to his twelve, but there were over twenty birds present on the lawn. Some days and hours would have produced less; sometimes he'd had nearly a hundred birds answer.

"Shoma," he greeted the large, somewhat tattered female who had been both his first partner.

"Boy," she greeted him in return, ducking her head in a brief movement that was cursorily deferential. It had caused a ripple in the clan when the heir had went against tradition and partnered with a crow. He'd justified it to his parents by pointing out how advantageous an avian companion would be in terms of surveillance, but truthfully he'd simply liked the gruff, motherly corvus.

She hopped closer to the pair of them, her head tilted to one side as she assessed the situation before she turned an inquisitive gaze on Itachi. "This is Haruno Sakura," he explained. "She's assisting me with the matter of my brother." That sparked a reaction, as wings were partially unfurled and a hissing chorus testified that Sakura wasn't the only one who disapproved of his plans.

He ignored both the protest and the slightly smug expression expressed beneath raised eyebrows. "She is keeping me alive until the work is finished," he reproached, which produced a less hostile reaction.

"Now," he said softly, casting his eyes over the assembled birds, "communication between us will be difficult, so I would appreciate it if one or two of you will lend your assistance to Sakura." While not as strong as the contracted ties between shinobi and animal, the ties within the murder would be sufficient to allow them to locate his own contracted animals, who in turn could find him without difficulty.

Sakura patiently bore the clamor that came next as the crows clustered tight around her and bombarded her with a barrage of questions that came so hard and fast from so many different beaks that she just looked bemused—and perhaps slightly pained—when one young crow perched itself on a knee and another settled on her shoulder. The crow that had claimed her shoulder—a female almost as big as a raven, with a scarred beak and a strange streak of white feathers slashing over one eye and down the back of her head—reached out and gently tweaked her ear. "Is there anyone at home that's going to be upset if we contract with you?" she rasped.

Sakura grimaced. "If I don't ask, the answer to that is going to be very much a yes." She bit down on her own thumb, smearing blood across the planks.

As the smoke of the summoning faded, a slender cat with judgmental blue-green eyes surveyed them all before blinking disdainfully. "I see," he said, flicking the tip of his tail dismissively. "I am certain there is a fascinating reason why you are collaborating with Uchiha Itachi, but I first demand to know why there are crows perching on my person. Even if my person has of late very inconsiderately left me to deal with the riffraff that are treating our house as a thoroughfare."

"Soudai," Sakura sighed, but the crow on her shoulder fluttered to the ground, landing so that her beak almost touched the cat's nose. To the cat's credit, he did not flinch back, though his whiskers twitched in irritation.

"Yes?" he drawled.

"My name is Michi," the crow replied, "that little one you've set to cowering is Yoko."

"And? Surely you didn't expect me to be interested in your names. If you are for some reason offering your services to Sakura, I believe my own abilities as a companion are more than sufficient without brining anyone of the corvidae family into it."

"Unless you have a secret ability to sprout wings and fly, I doubt it," Michi replied, ruffling her own wings to reinforce the point.

"I'll need someone to relay messages between Itachi and me," Sakura cut in, which earned her a look from the cat. "It's not that I don't trust that you could track him, it's a matter of time efficiency. I'm not replacing you, I'm supplementing. Contracting out specialized tasks."

"Not only do you ask me to accept dogs shedding in my space, now you'll subject me to birds?" he sniffed. "Oh, very well. Make your contracts. And then," he said, turning those cutting eyes on Itachi, "you're going to tell me everything."