Itachi grunted as he pushed his desk across his room, clearing the space in front of the wall behind it. It had been, perhaps, years since he had last done so because it was fighting him all the while, protesting loudly as it bumped over the numerous grooves in his floorboards.

When he was finished moving his desk he began replacing the few items he'd removed, his candle holder and an assortment of books, inkwells, writing implements.

His teaching salary didn't allow for too much extravagance, and so he budgeted carefully his few needs—his food and candles and parchment. A single candle he could mark into quarters, and he would know he had finished a night's research when an entire quarter had been burned. After that, he could then sleep.

Life at the University was not luxurious but it gave him structure, and that structure was comforting. On good nights, he could fall asleep immediately after finishing work and would not dream.

Not every night was a good night, but enough of them were that he did not mind.

Today, however, it was still early and he did not yet need to light any of his candles. He could, he imagined, still get five or six more hours of research in before it would be time for bed.

Which brought him back to the map.

His research on the religious customs of Iwa had brought him to a historical border dispute that seemed to have been forgotten, and was unintentionally resolved with the marriage of their queen to a neighboring prince. Funny how something so insignificant could have such far reaching impacts.

He unrolled the map carefully, knowing how easily such things rip or tear, but was pleased to find it was still in relatively good condition, that it did not crack or crumble as he pressed it against the wall.

Using several of his sewing needles (and despairing his lack of foresight in not purchasing more appropriate tacks), he began pinning the map to his wall, satisfied when they sank easily into the old wooden boards.

Seeing the map firmly settled, he dug through the papers on his desk until he found the tracing paper he had bought that morning. Having even a rough copy would make his life significantly easier and reduce the chance of him accidentally damaging something priceless and irreplaceable, and would keep him safe from the head librarian's wrath.

Just as he was finally getting the sheet of paper fitted over the map, he heard a set of footsteps coming down the hall, the heavy soles of the person's shoes thumping at a slow pace, almost hesitant.

They weren't the worn leather moccasins most of the servant staff at the University wore. And not the soft-soled flats he and the other students preferred to muffle their footsteps. These were boots: sturdy ones, the type a person might wear when traveling or performing manual labor.

Or hunting.

The footsteps stopped outside Itachi's door and he paused, holding the final corner in place.

The person knocked twice and then waited.

Slowly, Itachi pulled the tissue paper down, knowing it was fragile and would crinkle when bent or folded, and that such a noise would certainly give him away.

When the person did not simply leave, he moved the paper to his desk as carefully as possible and began inching across the room until he reached his bed, shifting his mattress just the slightest to allow him to reach the small nook he'd carved behind the headboard.

Another quick knock.

Itachi did not entertain guests. In all of his years he could not recall ever showing an acquaintance (and he had very few of them) to his room. He saw his students twice a week in the classroom, and on the first of every month the building matron would stop by each room to exchange brief pleasantries.

It was predictable and there were few things he valued more than predictability.

It was not the first of the month; not even close. Whoever had come had either watched him or sought him out in the student directory by name.

He reached into the nook and pulled out the dagger he'd hid there for such an occasion, in gross violation of the University's prohibition on private weaponry.

Outside, his visitor shifted, perhaps attempting to lure Itachi into a sense of ease with their lack of stealth, before murmuring to themselves unintelligibly.

They knocked again. "Yo, 'tachi! They said this was your room, are you in there?"

Itachi let out an involuntary sigh and lowered his weapon. It was only Shisui.

Wait. Shisui?

Why was Shisui there?

He staggered over to the door, tucking his dagger into the waistband of his pants, and wrenched it open, catching Shisui mid-knock.

"What are you doing here, Shisui?" he immediately demanded, knowing he had never given his complete address to anyone, and that Shisui must have been looking for him.

"Uh, good to see you too?" Shisui's smile was amused but there was a sarcastic pitch to his voice. "Aren't you going to invite me in?" Shisui asked, wiggling an eyebrow at him.

Wordlessly, Itachi stepped out of the way to allow Shisui into his room.

"So, this is your exotic getaway spot, huh?" Shisui said, looking around the room, running his hands over Itachi's pockmarked desk, mindlessly sifting through his scattered paperwork.

Having lived there for the last few years Itachi knew very well there was nothing exotic or interesting for Shisui to make note of. He had, perhaps, gone out of his way to ensure it remained nondescript.

"This is where I live, yes," he said as Shisui continued to roam around his room, a little too curious for Itachi's comfort. "Shisui, why are you here?"

At that, Shisui's back stiffened and he rubbed the back of his neck.

Shisui sighed, and his shoulders slumped. "It's about Sasuke, Itachi. He and Naruto went on a mission to kill some spellcaster. Something went wrong and Sasuke got stuck."

Shisui paused, dropping his eyes to stare down at the whorls in the floorboards, then continued. "Apparently there was some kind of trapdoor Sasuke activated by accident. Naruto managed to escape and ran back to the village and left this morning with a team to go get Sasuke back."

A spellcaster. Likely a very, very powerful one.

Sasuke could be hurt. Sasuke almost certainly had been hurt.

Or worse.

"Did you hear me?"

Had it been more than a day already? Would a team be able to get there in time? Sasuke was capable—he'd demonstrated that more than enough times; Itachi had watched Sasuke practice and train and… and he'd watched Sasuke grow.

How long had he been trapped?

"Itachi?"

He nodded slowly, clearing his throat and putting the thought away for later, fitting it into a neat little box until it was safe to take back out.

His mouth was unusually dry when he went to respond. "I appreciate you coming to tell me, then, Shisui. It's good a team was able to leave on such short notice. I will… I will get in contact with Mother and follow this closely."

Shisui raised his eyebrows, looking at him incredulously. "That's it? Seriously dude, what has been going on? This isn't like you."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Itachi replied, his tone even. He was doing it, therefore it was entirely like him.

"That's all you've got? I just told you Sasuke was in trouble and the best you've got is 'Oh, well, someone is gonna take care of it, I'll keep in touch.' Like, really?"

"I don't know what you think I am capable of doing to help this situation. I am no longer a ranger and have done very little to maintain the level of fitness such a mission would likely require."

"So what? That's it? You're just gonna stay here and wait for someone else to go save Sasuke? Your little brother?"

"It isn't my job anymore, Shisui," Itachi said, trying to calm him. Getting overemotional would benefit neither of them. "I'm not a ranger and I haven't trained in years. I would not be an asset on such a mission."

"You don't just forget these things, Itachi. You really don't think having another trained pair of eyes on the situation would be helpful? You and I could've run this mission ourselves back in the day. Like, why aren't we on the road already?" Shisui gestured out the window, towards the courtyard where a group of students were sitting, reading aloud from some book or other. "What's the issue?"

Such questions, Itachi thought, had been so much easier to resolve when he'd been a ranger. Out there, in uniform, it'd been much easier to simply let these feelings pass through him, to let himself forget he was capable of feeling or thinking for himself.

He had no uniform now but could try all the same. "I'm not sure why you don't trust your comrades, Shisui. Our interference may not be welcome."

"Why are you doing this, Itachi? This… First of all, this has nothing to do with how I view my partners. It isn't just about this. You've been cutting everyone out. And like… Last time I saw you…" Shisui was calmer now, suddenly avoiding his eyes. "It just doesn't feel right. I want to be able to help you but I don't know how."

Itachi felt clear, as though light could pass through him as it did through glass. "There is nothing wrong with me. You're seeing things that aren't there, Shisui."

"You know what?" Shisui rubbed his eyes, letting out an exasperated sigh. "I'm sorry, Itachi. I don't know how to get through to you and you're doing everything you can to keep me away. I… I can't do this. I'm going to find Sasuke and you can," he gestured wildly, "do whatever the hell it is you're doing with your life nowadays. I'm tired of watching you run away from everything."

With that, Shisui turned around and let the door slam behind him.

Again, Itachi was alone.

That was fine.

The rangers were professionals and Sasuke was one of their own; they would not take unnecessary risks and would do everything within their power to see to it that Sasuke was brought home safe.

He had to trust Sasuke. Sasuke was a ranger in his own right and he would not want Itachi chasing after him at every turn. That's what Sasuke had told him, after all.

He looked back at the map resting on his desk.

Shisui had left. There was nothing to stop him from returning to his work now. Itachi felt for the wall behind him, suddenly needing the extra support.

There was nothing more he could do, he reasoned. Sasuke could handle himself. Itachi was not capable of feats if actual, dedicated rangers could not accomplish them.

They might have already found him. Sasuke might already be safe. Itachi might be worrying over nothing.

His legs gave out under him, pulling him down to the floor. How strange.

He took two quick, short breaths and they weren't enough. He took a couple more and found himself kneeling with his forehead almost touching the ground, hyperventilating and unable to center himself.

Sasuke could be dead.

His little brother could die and it would be entirely his fault. Itachi gripped the front of his shirt, trying to check his own breathing but—but who was looking after Sasuke? Who, in all the world, would look after Sasuke as he would?

He couldn't sit and wait to find out.

He dragged himself off the floor and grabbed his backpack, emptying it of books and scribbled notes, packing as quickly as he could but slowed by his trembling hands, knowing he would still have to stop somewhere if he were to fill a standard travel pack.

If his life was good for something, this was it.

He grabbed his warmest cloak and tied it around his neck before stepping out and locking the door behind him.

Turning in the direction Shisui had come from, he raced down the corridor. "Shisui!" he called, hoping he hadn't taken too long getting ready.

The halls, however, were empty and there was no reply, no rumble of footsteps heading back toward him.

He went on anyway.

A/N:

Sorry for the wait on this one, folks! Nonetheless, I appreciate your ongoing support and kind comments!

As always, questions, kudos, unusual compliments, and comments are all appreciated!

You can find me on twitter as naruto_on_main