Chapter 21 – And We're Alone, Love

"Shisui!"

"Don't fuss," he muttered, squinting as his grip on the tree tightened.

It felt as though the world was too bright, making it damn near impossible to see even a couple of feet in front of himself. Everything was much too loud, but at the same time, nearly drowned out entirely by an intense ringing that threatened to bring him to his knees.

Apparently using his Mangekyō was out of the question. Chest shaking with the weight of the sudden pain, Shisui leaned more heavily against the tree trunk, eyes finally losing their battle and shutting to block out the light. If he was in such a state from merely activating his Mangekyō and placing genjutsu down on their targeted building, he sincerely feared the results of using Kotoamatsukami. In his weakened state, in that moment, he believed it would probably kill him or cause some kind of brain damage.

"What happened?" questioned Itachi. Shisui could feel him hovering, though at the same time, he was fully alert, surveying the area and blanketing them in his own powerful genjutsu. Should they be happened across, they would remain undetected. "Did you cast the genjutsu?"

Even an Uchiha was unable to detect his genjutsu, Shisui had to remind himself. His back hit the trunk before he slid down, sitting on the branch with a quivering sigh. The pain wasn't easing off like it had previously – no, scratch that. The pain he was experiencing was by far the worst it had ever been before. Previously, all he'd suffered with were dizzy spells and headaches. At that moment in time, he believed he was experiencing a migraine and if not, then it was something along those lines. It was certainly more than the average headache.

"Perhaps you should have rested more," he murmured.

No. Continuing to sit around and do nothing was definitely not what he needed. What Shisui needed was to push himself and continue his training. He needed to grow stronger. Overcoming his weaknesses, moving past his current obstacles, was the only way to do that. Shying away from the pain wasn't an option – it was cowardly.

"Where would that get me?" demanded Shisui in response before wincing once more. The sound of his own voice reverberated throughout his head, seemingly bouncing around, growing louder each passing second. "I cannot be the only one who remains stagnant in terms of progress."

"You also cannot risk your health," came Itachi's simple reply. There was a pause before he spoke again, telling Shisui that he was probably assessing his body language to gauge his reaction. "You are too important-"

"I am more than my eyes."

"Don't interrupt me," he stated. "You are too important to too many people for you to harm yourself – irreparably or fatally."

Sakura's face flashed to the front of his mind. That beautiful, tortured expression replaced by the wonderful smile that had caused her eyes to crease, the results of their healing session rekindling their hope. Itachi was right, Shisui told himself. If not for himself, then he had to pace himself for her. To undo all of her hard work, or to leave her alone in a world that had already screwed her over so horrifically, was not an option. For her, he would take better care of himself. He would not push himself beyond his capabilities.

"Here." A hand came to his face, his palm coming to rest on his forehead. "Sakura taught me a basic healing jutsu to numb my own headaches. This should help for a short while."

And it did. Kind of. No, it didn't erase the pain entirely, but it was bearable. He could complete their mission with a headache – it was nothing. He stood with ease, taking a few moments to open his eyes to the world once more. The sun continued to shine down on him harshly and every sound seemed louder than usual, but he would manage. He would persevere.

"To be a shinobi is to endure," he muttered the words his father had told him as a child. "Let's go."

The hospital was intense, Shisui realised. Security-wise, anyway.

"They must be onto us," Itachi stated under his breath.

Oh well, he thought to himself. At best they were chūnin level – rogue-nin, too, he gathered, considering there were no forehead protectors on display. Nothing they couldn't handle, not with their teamwork. Their only issue would be keeping a low profile, as their techniques were hardly unrecognisable. It would bring Danzo closer to discovering their hideout. It would bring him closer to Sakura.

Even if it cost him his life, he would stop at nothing to protect her from him.

"You can't continuously steal from their village and not expect anyone to notice."

They remained unnoticed in their disguises, having decided to sit around the waiting room until they found an opportunity to go further into the hospital. As he'd noticed moments before: security was tight. Walking around the hospital when they didn't know the layout was bound to attract attention, even if they were disguised as mother and child.

Pouting childishly, Shisui glared at the waiting room, discreetly taking in his surroundings. He was under the guise of a young boy with a sprained ankle, having spotted 'cool' shinobi climbing up the side of buildings and wishing to do the same. His friend was far better at pretending to be a woman – no, scratch that. He was good at pretending to be a parent. Scolding when necessary, nurturing when required to be. Overall worried for the well being of her overactive child.

When they entered the hospital, it quickly became apparent they would need a pass to leave the waiting area. That meant they had to wait for the medical personnel to grant them entry to restricted areas of the hospital, hence their disguise. According to Itachi, security hadn't been a fraction of what it currently was, but Shisui countered that by reminding him of their recurrent theft. Of course they would begin to notice. Several questionable members of staff in all the businesses struck by them were probably under investigation.

The original plan was to infiltrate the hospital using his Sharingan, using genjutsu to alter the memories of those who happened across them. Given the circumstances, however, that obviously was no longer an option – well, using his Sharingan was no longer an option, anyway. It seemed he had his good and bad days regarding his most feared weapon. Some days, he would barely feel any strain. Some days, he would suffer immensely, though nowhere near as extreme as he had earlier. Perhaps he could test it later, but in that moment, no.

It had him questioning the lingering effects of whatever jutsu was used on him to transport him eight years into the future. The jutsu was great enough to almost liquefy his eyes, according to Sakura, but then again, time travelling was bound to come at a cost.

His memories surrounding that particular event grew hazier by the day and Shisui found it difficult recollecting what happened. There'd been a voice, he was sure, but whose voice was it? What had the person said to him? It frustrated him to no end that he could no longer remember. Simultaneously, however, he believed he had much bigger problems to stress about.

"Yamamoto Arashi-san?"

His five year old body leaned heavily on Itachi for support when they stood, his supposedly sprained ankle causing a limp and constant whining as he struggled on. Acting was one of the many skills a shinobi must possess in order to successfully complete the majority of infiltration missions – hell, any mission, really.

There was a demure sway to Itachi's hips as they followed the doctor, Shisui noted with little surprise. Anything bigger would have been too noticeable. His appearance as a whole was reserved, if not a little shy. It was the appearance of a wife and respected member of the community. It was the appearance, dare he say, of his mother. Long, dark hair was sleeked back into a neat bun, not a hair out of place and his qipao was creaseless and clean, loose enough to conceal the curves Itachi had given himself in his woman form, but not too loose that it looked ill fitting. There was no denying that he'd taken his mother's appearance into consideration when designing his disguise, believing her to be the best example of a traditional, forgettable woman.

The doctor was more approachable once they were in the examination room, aiding Shisui in climbing onto the bed and smiling encouragingly when he pretended to fight back the tears.

"May I call you Arashi-kun?" the doctor asked, her gentle eyes bright with empathy when he nodded pitifully. "Well, then, Arashi-kun. My name is Airi-sensei and I promise I'll take good care of you. Yamamoto-san, are you comfortable in that chair – I know they're not of the best quality."

Itachi's feminine smile was equally gentle. "I'm fine, Airi-sensei. Thank you."

Sitting in the stool situated on the left side of the bed, Airi placed her clipboard down, only a few inches from Shisui's feet before pulling herself forward on the wheels, using the edge of the bed to make it easier. Pretending to be interested in the wheelie chair, he looked on with wide, childish eyes, grinning up at her once she reached him.

"May I?" she asked, indicating towards his weak foot.

It was hanging limply on the bed, looking as pathetic as he felt when he winced at her cold hands touching his skin. There was a murmured apology, but it was obvious Airi was focusing entirely on her task at hand, careful as she attempted to move his foot during her examination.

"Well, Arashi-kun," she began with a sigh and sat back. "There's no break, but you have definitely sprained your ankle. What caused this?"

His fake mother sighed in exasperation, those dark eyes shutting. "Yes, Arashi-kun. Tell the good doctor what happened."

Pretending to be embarrassed, he looked away, cheeks warming. "I wanted to be like the shinobi," he mumbled with obvious embarrassment. "I saw them running on the side of next door's house-"

"Arashi-kun," gasped Airi in horrified shock. "You mustn't copy the things shinobi do! They've been training their whole lives – you can't just copy them."

Very wise advice. However, that would never work on a child. "I was practising my skills," he argued, scowling.

"Yes, but you need chakra to-"

"I don't care!"

"Arashi," Itachi scolded. Turning to the doctor, he lowered his head apologetically. "Airi-sensei, do you mind giving us a moment, please?"

They were moving the second the doctor left them alone, dashing to the medical supply cupboards and filling the summoning scroll they'd brought. Itachi was murmuring something to him, possibly the directions for the corridor with all of the supplies on, but Shisui couldn't hear him over the thundering of his heart. Adrenaline was a wonderful double edged sword, one he was welcoming wholeheartedly. Being back on his feet, putting his skills to good use, was addicting, he realised.

Crouching low, he unhooked the wires, ignoring Itachi's widening eyes but still muttering, "Hyuuga needs specialist equipment, does she not?"

"Yes, but-"

"But nothing," he argued without looking back at him. Finally untangling the mess of wires behind the bed, he wheeled the monitors and drip stands over towards Itachi, adding, "If we want to give that boy a fighting chance, we have to do our best for him."

Resolve hardened his feminine features and Itachi nodded once, deciding in that moment that Shisui was right. Turning, he scanned the shelves and cupboards, grabbing what he could. Soon enough, however, they'd taken all they could from the room, leaving it close to empty. They felt bad, truly they did, but Shisui didn't allow it to take hold of his heart as he instead made a single hand sign, encasing the room in genjutsu. In the genjutsu, nothing had changed. Not a single item was out of place. It wouldn't hold for long – anyone who tried to use the equipment would dispel it instantly. Hopefully they wouldn't be there for that long, though.

There was a low tap on the door, one that was followed by the door sliding open, revealing the doctor. By the time she entered, they were back in their previous positions. He put on a pout of upset and annoyance, turning his back on his fake mother, who looked on with the stern expression of a parent firmly standing their ground.

"Forgive me for interrupting," Airi began. "I-"

Upon taking a seat on the stool, the genjutsu faded around them, though was once more strengthened as Shisui sat up quickly. He slipped off the edge of the bed, kneeling before the fallen woman as she tried to understand what happened. Her startled brown eyes shot to his, widening when they bled to red and black, swirling ominously. Fortunately for him, there was no headache this time.

"Arashi-kun, your eyes-"

"Quiet," he ordered calmly. It sounded odd in his childish voice, the order losing its intensity. It didn't matter, though. Airi had no choice but to listen and follow his orders, her pretty features emptying of all emotion. "Calm your mind." Not that she had much of a choice, Shisui reminded himself as he felt her mind grow calm. "You are going to be given three tasks and you will complete each one successfully."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Itachi shift his weight, watching him warily – rightfully, so. Having his Mangekyo activated, using his deadliest technique, was extremely dangerous and Shisui knew he was pushing his luck (it'd been out of habit activating it). However, they had to act fast. They had to do whatever was necessary to complete their mission and return to the hideout.

"Tell me, do you have access to all medical supplies?"

"I do."

"Will you be able to take said supplies?"

"I…" The hesitation had him strengthening his mental grip on her, forcing Airi to answer, "It shouldn't be too much of a problem, if you're willing to wait around."

Waiting around wasn't in their best interest, but it couldn't be helped, he supposed. "Very well. What time does your shift end?"

"Eight."

In five hours. If they didn't get word out to the others, they would search for them or spread the news in the hideout that their fearless leader Itachi was missing – or worse, dead. Which, in turn, would have a detrimental effect on everyone, especially Sasuke and Sakura. Itachi was the only one capable of truly getting through to them, as much as it pained him to admit that. Sakura needed her friend.

"Throughout your shift, you will take small amounts of supplies, storing them in these summoning scrolls," he told her, holding said scrolls up for her to see. "I want medicine, equipment, monitors. I want an entire operating theatre and intensive care unit."

"Sh-"

"Quiet," he warned Itachi. "If we want to survive, we need to do this."

"But to take so much…"

"Is necessary." The young boy alone would need the ICU equipment, should he be overcome by sepsis. "Anything else you deem necessary for a makeshift triage, store it. Do you understand?"

"I do."

"Your second order is to falsify our information. Should anyone start snooping around asking questions, you are to keep up the farce that we are mother and child. Understand?"

There were no questions, no confusion as to who they were. She didn't have a choice. "I do."

"Your final order is to always pick a shift on this day, every month. I don't care what commitments you have. You will be here, at the same time, every month on this day. You will find us in the waiting area, personally examine us and repeat what you are about to do today. Understand?"

"I do."

"Go."

Witnessing the success of his jutsu, Itachi didn't question the flaws in their plan – there were none, now that they'd seen the first success. They knew the rest of the plan would follow along those lines. If Shisui ordered the woman to keep them hidden, she would do it until her dying breath. Nobody would know of their involvement or presence in the village. Not even his own death would break his hold on her mind.

"You want to go shopping?" Itachi asked indignantly.

"Did I stutter?"

"Why?"

Instead of answering immediately, he eyed the nearest drug store, stepping inside once he spotted the items he was looking for. The store was busy, with people shuffling around one another, browsing the shelves almost desperately in a sad attempt to hurry and get out. Signs guided him to the section he needed and Shisui narrowed his eyes, wondering how in the hell he would find the right one.

"Shampoo," came Itachi's flat voice. "You are shopping for shampoo." When only silence met him, followed by him leaning forward, focusing on the women's shampoos, he asked, "You know what shampoo Sakura used?"

No. Not at all. However, he'd spent months with her, his blindness enhancing the rest of his senses. "I'm sure I can find the smell."

"Oh? I was under the impression that-"

"Nothing happened." Was that regret in his voice? Disappointment? Could Itachi detect it?

"But you wish it did." Damn it. He could.

He stooped low to grab a bottle from the bottom shelf. It seemed promising, the brightly coloured packaging catching even his eyes. The writing was too small for him to distinguish and so he took a brief glance around himself, discreetly activating his sharingan in order to read it. Apples, it read. That sounded close, but there was always that slight tang to the scent and upon smelling the contents of the bottle, Shisui found that he was right. It wasn't the right one.

Apparently, Itachi wasn't done with the questions. By the time Shisui had sniffed his fifth bottle, he asked, "Are your feelings sincere?"

He froze mid-sniff, eyeing him through narrowed eyes. "Excuse me?"

"It is not unheard of for people to forge a bond when-"

"Our bond is not forged," muttered Shisui. Continuing with smelling the bottle, he frowned. Wrong. Again. "It was created and it grew – deepened – over time. Naturally."

From beside him, he heard Itachi sigh before he reached out, plucking a plain looking bottle from the top shelf, handing it over. "Do not be so sensitive. I am not underestimating your feelings. I am trying to say that you still have the chance to figure things out in terms of your feelings for one another."

His frown deepened. The scent was the closest match he'd found so far, but at the same time, wasn't the exact same. There was no slight tang – without it, it smelled entirely of apples. Holding it to his chest, he assessed the shelves once more, warily glancing at the sign that read conditioner.

"How likely is it that Sakura would mix her hair products?"

"Extremely." Raising a brow, he then said, "Do not change the subject."

Once more, he sighed. "There is no use in discussing my relationship with Sakura until we both figure out where we stand."

"Then-"

"What about you?" he questioned without pause, still focusing on the conditioners. What was the tang he could smell? It wasn't apples. Was it lemon? Nope, he quickly found out and returned the bottle to its place. "Are your feelings sincere?"

Had his questions been too harsh? Did Itachi sense the bitterness seeping into his words? Did he sound like a jealous lover? Shisui refused to look in his direction. If that was the case, then there were feelings there. That much was obvious. If the relationship was strictly platonic, then being upset by such questions made little sense – at least, he believed it did, anyway.

"My feelings for Sakura are…"

Itachi was at a loss for words? Straightening, Shisui finally met his eye and for the first time, immediately saw him as the man he'd grown into. Not the young boy he'd mentored, but a man who'd fought through many obstacles alone. They were eye level now. More or less the same height. And instead of being the scrawny child he'd once been, he was now lean. His appearance boasted speed and strength, while his aura screamed confidence and peace.

"Complicated," he finally admitted, holding his gaze steadily.

Why did it feel like his heart was in his throat? Like his face was incredibly hot? "She said nothing happened."

"It didn't."

Why was he closing up? Why was he becoming impossible to read? Why wasn't he letting him in? "Then explain how it is complicated. You either have feelings for one another, or you don't."

"We are connected," came his vague explanation. "That is all anyone needs to know."

"You believe I don't need to know the relationship status of my-"

"Of your what?" he demanded, patience running thin. "Nobody other than ourselves needs to know anything, just as nobody needs to know your own situation with her."

"You asked first."

"Then I apologise for overstepping boundaries."

They had never had a standoff before, the pair of them always having similar beliefs and the such, but in that moment, they clashed. Itachi's gaze was piercing, his shoulders rigid and features cold, appearing as though they were carved out of stone – and Shisui knew he was no different. The cold aura coming from him was like a tsunami, threatening to wash him away in order to keep the distance he'd created, refusing to allow him in. Whatever had happened, he didn't want to share. But it was painfully obvious that something had happened.

His grip tightened on the shampoo bottle. Sakura had lied to him. For some reason, she felt the need to keep her connection with Itachi a secret. Was it something to be ashamed of? Had something happened that she wasn't proud of?

"I don't want to fight," Itachi told him suddenly. "So please, respect my privacy and understand that there are certain parts of my life that I do not care to explain or share with others."

He faced the hair products again, then glanced to the shampoo he was carrying.

Something had happened.

And Sakura had lied to him about it.

A/N - Just a quick update to fill you in on what's going on in and why updates are slow. My son is going to be four months old in ten days, but one month and six days after he was born, my mum passed away quite suddenly and I'm feeling really lost. I'll update when I can, so please don't think I've abandoned any of my stories.