A.N. Here is a short but full of tooth-rotting fluff chapter. I loved writing it, so maybe I won't just give you guys angst all the time? We'll have to see...

THEN:

"What is it?" Tsukiko asked, confused.

Mikoto laughed, holding out the bundle of fabric she'd excitedly presented to the young girl. "It's a dress, Tsuki! See?" She held the top and allowed it to unroll.

They were in Tsukiko's room, the young girl having just returned from delivering the mission report to Danzo. He'd been pleased at their success, or, at least, that's what she liked to believe, considering the interest he'd shown in the minute details of the fight. Itachi had to take over and explain about how Shisui was able to catch Mukai in his Sharingan, but he had stressed Tsukiko's diversion. The old man asked her twice about her experience against the Byakugan, and was deep in thought when they had been dismissed. But what truly mattered was the outcome: both Tsukiko and Itachi had passed the test and were officially Anbu now. They received a week off as their paperwork was removed from official records and most of their information was erased.

The first hurdle had been passed, and now the children were able to relax. This was a relief to them both, and Itachi had suggested that they go celebrate. Apparently he had discovered a new tea shop that time he'd hung out with Izumi and thought Tsukiko would like it. She had excitedly agreed, and had run to her room to drop off her Anbu weapons pack when Lady Mikoto had followed her. That led to this situation, with the woman revealing the dress.

It was dark blue, like most of Tsukiko's clothes, but that's where the similarity ended. She usually wore either a shirt and pants or the more feminine tunic and pants, both in the high-collared Uchiha style. The design was mostly obscured by her chunin vest anyway, so she never put much thought into her outfits other than if they were practical.

The dress in the older woman's hands was a soft, almost shiny fabric. It was short-sleeved and was cinched in at the waist, a criss-crossing ribbon design of the same dark blue sewn into the front. Modest, but flattering, and very pretty.

Tsukiko was scared to touch it. Lady Mikoto sometimes wore things like that, but this one seemed too small for her. Was it a gift for Izumi? Either way, she didn't want to mess it up.

"What do you think?" Mikoto prompted, her smile widening at the girl's confusion.

"I like it," the girl answered, unsure of what else to say.

"Good! I know this color is one of your favorites! Go try it on for me, okay?"

Blinking, Tsukiko took the dress shoved into her hands and obediently stepped behind the screen in her room to change. It, along with the overflowing bookshelf, futon, small chest of drawers, and floor-length mirror that Lady Mikoto had insisted on, were the only furniture in the small room. A few scrolls adorned the walls, but it was mostly bare, keeping to the simple style of the rest of the house.

When she emerged, Lady Mikoto's face lit up, and she clapped her hands together happily. "Oh, Tsuki! You look so pretty!" She gestured to the mirror. "Come see!"

As she walked forward, she took stock of the outfit. It fit perfectly, the skirt falling just a little past her knees. The color was lovely, to be sure, but there were several problems right off the bat.

Firstly, it severely restricted mobility. There was no way she'd be able to flip or kick without ripping the skirt, and she doubted that even a back end would be possible in the snug bodice. So, comfortable, but lacking any sort of practicability. Secondly, she couldn't think of any way to hide weapons except under the skirt, which she wouldn't be able to access anyway. Pinning her weapons bag to the dress would likely rip the fabric, so that was out as well. And tying it to her leg would be uncomfortable and hard to walk with, since it would have to be against her knee instead of her thigh.

Third, the pair of shoes in Lady Mikoto's hands were nothing like her sturdy sandals. These were low-heeled flats, very easy to fall off if she needed to kick out or run fast. Totally incomprehensible for a ninja.

Tsukiko stepped into the shoes and turned to look at herself in the mirror. Almost immediately, she saw all of the disadvantages, recognized the absurdity of walking around town in such attire.

But she instantly loved it all the same.

Criticisms ringing in her mind, Tsukiko was unable to stop one overwhelming thought: she looked normal.

She could've been just another civilian in a nice outfit, going out with her friends to enjoy a fun evening. In a perfect world, she wouldn't have to fight or kill anyone. She and Itachi wouldn't be ninja, and they could walk around without hatred and scorn directed at them. Her family wouldn't have to shield her from her clan, and the secrets swirling around the Uchiha would be dissipated.

This normal-looking girl was what she was fighting for. A life with no war, no ninja. A place where she could dress like this everyday.

"What do you think?" Mikoto's gentle question startled the young kunoichi. It was only then that she realized she was crying, a silent stream of tears trailing down her face.

"You're almost eleven now," she continued, pretending not to notice Tsukiko hurriedly wipe her eyes. "And you both have been so busy. We barely got to celebrate Itachi's birthday, and you'll be in the Anbu next week, so we can't divulge anything classified. But I wanted to give you this early, to celebrate."

The woman laid her hands on the girl's shoulders, her reflection smiling. "It's wonderful that you and Itachi are so driven, but I want you to remember to enjoy yourself too. It's okay to let yourself relax and just be a kid." Mikoto stopped, gathering herself before she too started to cry.

Tsukiko was frozen, staring incredulously at the woman she had come to think of as a mother. She often underestimated Lady Mikoto and her uncanny ability to know what her children were thinking, despite moments like this, where the woman was echoing the dream in her heart.

"I've always wanted a girl," she eventually said. "And I honestly couldn't be prouder of you, Tsukiko. We don't tell you often enough, and you face a lot of adversity every day just for living in the compound. But I love you, your father loves you, Sasuke adores you, and Itachi…" She laughed, shaking her head. "He has us all beat, doesn't he? But I suppose that's a normal occurrence by now."

The white-haired girl couldn't take it anymore. She turned and buried her face in the older woman's chest, arms wrapping around her waist. Her small shoulders shook, but her training kept the sounds of her sobs from escaping.

Mikoto held her tight, sharply reminded of how small she was, and by how much she had grown since being brought to their little family.

The woman would be the first to accept that their lives were far from perfect. The man she loved was being pulled to the front lines of a vaguely-shaped battle, and her children were running as far away as they could. But moments like these, where she could be a normal mother with loving children that she got to spoil and dress up, made everything worth it.

"Th—Thank you." Tsukiko's muffled voice barely reached her ears. "I love it. It's my favorite outfit."

Hugging her daughter even tighter, Mikoto didn't want to let her go. "Of course, Tsuki! I want you to look nice when you go out tonight. Now," she pulled back to smile at the crying girl. "Let's do something with this pretty hair of yours, okay?"

Itachi waited patiently in the front room of their house, a chattering Sasuke by his side. He was proudly talking about the Entrance Ceremony, and how father and mother were in the front row. This soothed the older brother's heart. Fugaku has kept his word, and had seemingly spoiled Sasuke with attention.

Of all the good news that day, that was the most important. Itachi could still trust his father to look out for his little brother, to preserve the innocence on that brightly shining face.

But as much as he enjoyed hearing Sasuke so excited about the Academy, Itachi couldn't help the mild irritation forming in his chest towards his mother. He told her that he was taking Tsukiko out to celebrate, so why did she drag the girl off the moment they arrived? Surely she had a good reason, but he wanted to see Tsukiko's reaction to the tea shop. And to a certain waitress.

He himself hadn't been back since Izumi, and the two had only talked a few times since then. She had apologized for running out on him, then acted like nothing had changed, something he was grateful for. The failed visit had been over two weeks ago, longer than he expected to go without a chance to return, but it didn't matter now.

Fugaku came into the room, noticing his oldest son's preoccupied expression. He'd been pleased to hear that the mission had gone well, despite the tension between himself and Itachi. And he'd approvingly given the two chunin permission to celebrate, especially since Itachi's birthday had already passed without much fanfare, all of them busy with missions or planning. The boy was eleven now, old enough to take on a more integral part in his plan. The pipeline to the Village.

But that was for later, when Itachi had access to official Anbu information. For now, he could rest.

"Waiting for Tsukiko?"

Itachi looked up at his father, the older man smiling. It was an expression he hadn't seen in a while, and he felt himself relax further, nodding his head. "Mother is talking to her, I think."

Fugaku nodded in understanding. "Your mother wanted to give her a present, I believe."

That made sense. The boy felt his irritation melt away, replaced with the usual fondness and gratitude for his mother. She was sometimes the only one besides him who cared enough about Tsukiko to remind her of that fact.

"Itachi! Sasuke!" Mikoto's laughing voice called out from the hall. "Look at how pretty Tsukiko is!"

Turning his head, Itachi was not prepared for the sight before him.

Tsukiko entered the room shyly, her usual confidence replaced with an endearingly timid smile. She was wearing a dress, a modest dark blue outfit that fell to her knees, shoes matching the color. Her hair had been pulled back into a long braid, a silver cord that sat on her shoulder and fell down her front. And she was smiling, those dark eyes of hers brightened by the splash of pink across her cheeks.

He'd never seen her dress like that, and couldn't think of anything to say. Or do, for that matter. His heart was beating fast in his chest, and he was sure that his mouth had opened at some point, but no words came to mind.

'Beautiful.'

To Itachi, that word had always applied to Tsukiko. He'd be an idiot not to notice her good looks, and he'd lately been struck by them more often. The look of concentration on her face when controlling an element, the care she took to organize the scrolls on her shelf, her excitement when she played with Sasuke; all of these stood out in his mind. But that word didn't really apply to the Tsukiko now. This was different.

Sasuke was, annoyingly enough, the first of the males to speak. "Tsukiko?" He asked, eyes wide.

The girl in question turned a relieved smile to the boy. "Yes?"

Assured of her identity, the five-year-old ran over to her, wrapping his arms around her waist. "You look weird!"

Laughing, she hugged him back. "Weird, huh?" Her gaze flickered up to Itachi. "How?"

The young boy looked up at her seriously, frowning with thought. "You look like mother! Not like how you usually do," he tried to explain.

Fugaku chuckled. "I see. Well, Tsukiko, I think you look very pretty." He smiled fondly at the girl. "Enjoy yourself today. I'm very proud of you."

'Normal.' That was the word that described this situation. A doting father, happy mother, and laughing children. Itachi's chest swelled with warmth, heart aching at the sight. This was what he wanted. A world without war or ninjas, a place where Tsukiko could dress like this everyday, a place where he could give her anything she wanted, anything that would make her smile. He'd be content by her side, no great mission to fight for.

Carving this image into his mind, he approached Tsukiko. "Ready to go?"

Tsukiko looked up from Sasuke, her breath caught in her chest. Itachi was smiling, so gently and happy, the expression transforming his face from the serious young ninja into an eleven-year-old boy going to play. He also looked normal in his shorts and shirt, ninja equipment put away for the day.

She felt an answering smile form on her face, still feeling a little shy. "Yeah."

Itachi took her hand, pulling her toward the door. "We'll be back in a while," he said, feeling the need to say something to his parents, both smiling uncharacteristically. Their eyes seemed to know something he didn't, and it made him antsy, almost embarrassed.

"Have fun!" Mikoto called, scooping up Sasuke as he tried to follow. She heard Tsukiko say goodbye before the door slid shut.

"Mooom! Why can't I go?" Sasuke demanded, trying to free himself from the surprisingly strong grip of his mother.

"Because your brother wants to spend time alone with Tsukiko," she answered, winking at her husband.

Fugaku shook his head. It was unlike Itachi to be so easy to read, but Tsukiko seemed to bring out his more human side. It was actually a relief to see his son flustered and unable to do anything in the face of a pretty girl. There was such a thing as too perfect, and the boy was only eleven.

"Father, will you practice jutsu with me?"

He looked at Sasuke with surprise. "You've had a big day today. Are you sure?"

The boy nodded eagerly, and Fugaku felt a rare sense of sentiment. His younger son was not the genius Itachi was, but it had been a while since his children had asked him for advice. And though Sasuke had much to improve, he was still very advanced for his age.

"Why not?" He heard himself saying, enjoying the feeling of actually being a father.

"Shinko!"

Tsukiko's delighted exclamation was all the warning the older girl got before her friend was standing in front of her excitedly, a bemused Itachi behind her.

"Well! If it ain't little Tsukiko!" Shinko pushed her spiky brown bangs back, taking in the unusual sight of her former teammate in a dress. "You look adorable! On yer day off?"

The two girls chattered excitedly as Itachi took his seat, facing the mirror on the wall. Someone had moved it down slightly, enough to where he had a better view of the door, but could also see his own reflection.

Tsukiko sat across from him, and the boy took a moment to admire how happy she was, how relaxed she was once they'd left the compound.

Shinko brought them tea and dango, taking a seat next to the white-haired girl as the two continued their discussion about the shop and what the older girl was up to now that she was no longer a ninja.

For his part, Itachi was content to watch and eat dango, nodding along when Tsukiko glanced up at him. That warm feeling hadn't left, and he still wasn't entirely sure what it was.

"—if ya weren't a Shinobi?"

The question pulled Itachi from his uncharacteristic inattention, and he looked up at the older girl with some confusion. If they weren't Shinobi? That sort of question was incomprehensible. What else could they be, in a world of violence and ninja? He'd never actually given the idea more than a passing thought. What would happen once there were no Shinobi? Who would he be?

Tsukiko didn't hesitate. "Itachi and I would be teaching!"

The boy blinked. 'What?'

The excitable girl gestured between them. "We help our little brother sometimes," she explained. "It's really the only time I get to have fun on my day off. And we love helping Sasuke get better and better. So, if we weren't ninjas, I think we'd be teachers." She beamed at Itachi. "What do you think? Would you like to be a teacher with me?"

When he later thought back on it, he supposed that it was possible that he'd somehow cast a Genjutsu on himself. For in that moment, he had a exact image of the life she described.

They were both older, at the Academy. Tsukiko teaching the younger kids while he instructed the older students. In that image, the red hat of the Hokage lay on the desk behind him, waiting to return to his head. Sasuke, now graduated and a fine shinobi, was embarrassed that his brother was teaching the class instead of attending to other Hokage matters. And at the end of the day, he walked home with Tsukiko, arm around her shoulders as she chattered about her students.

The warmth was more like a fire in his chest, the image in his mind so strong and clear, it was inconceivable that it wasn't real.

"Itachi?" Tsukiko cocked her head. Was something wrong?

He looked up, and her heart stopped.

Itachi looked...happy. Really, truly happy. His face held a broad smile, eyes alight with excitement and a gentleness that made her face grow warm.

"I'd love to, Tsukiko." The way he said the words made her heart speed up, nervous energy dancing around her limbs. He seemed truly excited about the idea.

Shinko would've given anything for a camera. Did those two know what they looked like? Honestly, they were completely off in their own little world. Tsukiko was flustered and embarrassed, but smiling eagerly as she talked to Itachi, and he...well, he was practically transformed wasn't he? Nothing like the serious teammate, but a lovestruck young man. It was certainly a sight!

'I knew those two would fall in love!'

Hating to interrupt, Shinko regretfully stood up. "Let me get ya some more tea. It's on me!"

Tsukiko turned to thank the older girl, and Itachi's were drawn to his reflection in the back mirror.

'...Oh.'

He'd seen that expression. Seen it on the faces of couples walking through the Village. He'd seen it on Shisui's face when he'd brought that Anbu girl to heal Tsukiko. And though more muted, he saw it on his father's face whenever he spoke to his mother.

Itachi knew that he cared about Tsukiko, knew that he she was the most important person in the world to him. But at that moment, with the image of their future in his mind, with her looking so beautiful and happy, with that fire now burning through his whole body, Itachi came to a realization.

He was in love with Tsukiko.

A.N. Huh. I really am evil... Hope you enjoyed!