Pale hands shook as they tightly clutch a katana. Blood coated more than half of the sword, still fresh and quivering on the blade to scatter as it splattered on the ground.
The 13 year old holding the sword ran as fast as he could towards the exit of the village, escaping as soon as possible.
He suddenly froze on the rooftops.
Down from the street below, azure eyes stared at him with worry and anger. Golden hair shifted in the cool night breeze. The cold and the stare gave him vicious shivers across his body, tingling up his spine and making his hair fluff up in the way he hated most.
Those eyes below were eyes he had known all his life, they were eyes that could bore into your mind and show you your past — eyes that were too easy to get lost in, eyes that understood everything and gave anyone full access to themselves.
The eyes that belonged to Uzumaki Naruto.
In that moment, he understood what those eyes asked of him, almost pleading.
Knowing they couldn't talk in the place they were currently in, Naruto turned his head towards the cliffs that gave a backdrop to the village.
The blonde boy walked towards the tall cliffs with strong purpose in his stride, far too confident despite knowing what was happening. Naruto was soon consumed by the darkness further down the street.
He watched Naruto go for as long as he could before following his more-than-acquaintance to the far reaches of the village. He scaled up the side of the cliffs, passing one of the four faces carved onto the cliffs on his ascension.
Upon reaching the face of the fourth head, he spotted the blue eyed boy and shimmied along the wall onto one of the large spikes that made up the fourth's hair. He looked to his feet, studying the small drops of drying blood on his sandals.
"Itachi."
His head turned to the right, not wanting to face the face he knew would hate him. He didn't even know why he had followed Naruto here, his orders clearing stating to leave the village immediately after he finished his last mission.
Despite the reluctance to face the younger boy, Itachi eventually turned his onyx eyes up to meet Naruto's own, finding a blank stare directed at him. Itachi flinched back, near unnoticeable, but Naruto noticed. He always did.
A softness had taken over Naruto's face, a reflection of the affection he held for the older boy. Naruto stood a a few feet from Itachi, space he quickly closed.
Itachi's eyes widened and his arms instinctively raised up to defend himself, only to stop and hover over Naruto's back as he was enveloped in his embrace. His eyes stung as the blonde held him firmly. His hands were shaking, but Naruto's arms held him in a solid grip, giving away a comfort that words could never convey.
Naruto let Itachi bury his face into his shoulder.
He looped his hands into Itachi's rich ebony hair, neither daring to ruin the moment with speech, secure in the knowledge they had each other for a moment. Itachi knew the moment shouldn't last and Naruto knew the moment shouldn't have lasted, but they both knew that the moment dragged through seconds into hours, eventually having the two boys collapsing onto their knees on the head of the great stone monument.
They stayed together for a time that no one knew, not wanting to let go of the one person they could confide in truthfully.
Naruto had known that Itachi's clan had been planning a coup d'état against the village and had known for even longer that Itachi was pacifist by nature, never wishing to harm anything. It was so obvious that, when one of the village elders ordered Itachi to kill his clan, Naruto knew immediately.
Naruto was many things: a container, a jailor, a prisoner, a shinobi, even a rather okay artist in his own opinion, but one thing not many knew, but had all fallen prey to, was Naruto the deceiver.
Naruto plans were foolproof, his disguises impenetrable, his masks worn from use and his voices impossibly duplicated. Naruto had infiltrated the military forces of the village and was integrated in positions that held power and certain influence within the ranks, meaning access to information that sometimes even his superiors were inexplicably unaware of as they cheerfully greeted the average-looking shinobi who looked nothing like Naruto.
Itachi knew of Naruto's unquestionable knowledge, knowing Naruto had at least a vague understanding of anything.
It came as no surprise to him when Naruto pulled apart from him and faced towards the opposite end of the village, gesturing for the main gates.
Naruto whispered of Itachi's hour left anyone important would try to find him, so Itachi bid him farewell.
Itachi tightly gripped the material of the blonde's black t-shirt in an unspoken goodbye. Naruto held Itachi gently at arm's length before Itachi raised his hand.
His fist unfurled his foremost two fingers and briefly made contact with the blonde's forehead, making Naruto nod backwards at the pressure.
Naruto tiptoed closer and lightly brushed against Itachi's nose with his own, an odd 'goodbye' gesture they'd started back when Naruto was nothing but a toddler and they'd first met.
Itachi left with a sorrowful face, but made Naruto proud as he shrouded his expression with a very convincing impression semi-evil indifference.
Itachi seemed to hear everything as he left the village: the impatient beat of his heart, his hair blinding his face from the night's breeze, the mismatched thumps of his feet landing and the loud breaths that escaped his lips.
It would be years until he would even see Naruto again, that much he knew, but he could never suspect just how cruel his new job would make him against his last friend.