"Normal Speech"
'Normal Thought'
'"Talking within mindscape"'

"Tenant Speech"
'Tenant Thought (rare?)'
*"Tenant Outside Speech (probably never, just setting precedent)"*

A/N: Gonna do something oddball on a whim with this chapter. Hopefully it works out well!

A/N 2: This chapter is a skim of the next in-fic 'month' or so of Naruto's timeline. It's an offshoot detailing some points from Itachi's viewpoint, with enough reasoning to show that he's not a necessarily a badguy, but enough left blank for him (and me) to have some explaining to do. Sorry for the confusion! Both chapters begin on Kyuubi Day, October 10th - Naruto's birthday.

Review Responses:
Friaku, thank you so much for your support! As for Hana's argument, think about lore events that may have happened around then :)

LucioBetaBlake, thanks! Hopefully I can keep that interest :)

TigerzzTail, as always you're a great check on detail and scope. This chapter is for you :D

"Our ancestors fought with stone and branch,
against a bitter enemy we've all but forgotten.
Who among us now can say they've stood in
front of a demon, and lived? Yet with no Chakra,
no hard steel between them and certain death,
men stood and fell in defense of home and
hearth – and they won, by damn -
We're here because they won.

Demons may be fairy-tale now, but our enemies
are no less fearsome. Show no hesitation this day,
that your sons and daughters may live to see
a shining future of peace!

-Fourth Hokage, rallying troops during
the final hours of the third Ninja War;
Demon-sightings amongst Iwa and
Kumo populations notably rose in the
years following.

What's in a name? After the Third Ninja War, names could make or break a person; who had fought whom? Which names would bring cheer, and which would cast grief upon widows and orphans? And yet of all the names to come from the war, it was one that came after that had certain intelligences astir.

Besides his achievements, which were many and impressive, he was also the Uchiha heir, the star-child of the post-war generation, and one of the most powerful ninja to have ever joined Konoha's ranks.

Outside of the officials and higher-ups who knew of his identity, his actions were (by necessity) attributed to the Anbu position of Bull – a shadowed cloak, a fearsome visage, and crimson eyes that stripped away all resistance in an instant.

His name was Itachi Uchiha – and to everyone in the wider world, he had disappeared in the middle of his first Academy year.

With an impeccable mission record, an international listing in the bingo books, and the full power of the Uchiha clan behind him, one could only speculate on his character; was he a proud and ambitious teen? Or perhaps humble and dutiful, the picture of devotion and loyalty?

The problem with speculating on the drives and inner workings of true geniuses is that, all too often, the focus falls on our own projections, our own desires. Strip these away, and only observations remain – we create heroes from the actions we love, and villains from the actions we fear.

In the eyes of many – his little brother, his best friends, his village, his Hokage – Itachi was indisputably heroic; unyielding in power and unfailing in loyalty, but gentle and kind, a son to be proud of and a bachelor to desire. And yet nearly everywhere else in the world, the name of Bull could be heard on the air as a curse, a regret, a bitter memento of betrayal and death.

Possessed of the Sharingan from an early age, he remembered; every face, every shocked expression, every drop of blood suspended in the air – perfect in clarity, reflected in his crimson eyes. Being a genius, he knew more than most the price paid for each perfect drop spilled – knew the price in Ryo, in faith, in human life, both present and future – he knew how much of his humanity was lost for each face he wore, each lover he used, each treatise signed by force or guile.

And being a ninja above all, he endured.

'I hope uncle Obito didn't hide my candies again...' Itachi emerged from the Anbu changing station - hidden in the rear of an unassuming restaurant - and lost himself in the bustle of the village he called home. 'Today was... troublesome.' Itachi had just been subjected to eight hours of watching. Eight hours of mind-numbing boredom, unable to move, unable to interact. All around Konoha, Nara suffered a momentary fit of sneezing and inexplicable envy.

If Itachi didn't get his sugar fix when he got home, he'd do something rash – the Uchiha always found himself anxious without sweets – and Obito was the only one with enough balls to brave his wrath by stealing them.

'I'm going to be the first Hokage with one eye, little Itachi – then what'll you do when your cookies go missing? Who will you assault when I donate your candy to the birds at the park?' Itachi shook his head – dealing with one brat was bad enough during the day.

Six months ago, Bull had been reassigned – seemingly at random - from an important assassination in Mist. The job he'd come to – which he'd first seen as a political ploy to stall his ambitions – had only recently stopped feeling like glorified babysitting. 'To be fair, it's not as bad as it used to be, either.' The career-stalling angle had been shot down when he'd learned just who he'd be watching. 'To think – Hokage-sama hid the jinchuriki from Danzo for all these years...'

Stray thoughts drifted through the Anbu's mind as he wandered through the early-morning celebrations being erected. Today was a special day for Konoha - streamers and balloons, confetti and firecrackers – 'At least we get along well now. Sometimes it's nice...'

He was, of course, referring to the times where Naruto wasn't busy learning to become a ninja – days where the blonde, knuckle-headed jinchuriki of Konoha simply acted like a child. 'An odd kid, with too much energy, and a sailor's dirty mouth, but...'

The days where Naruto and Bull sat on top of the Hokage monument - staring out over the village they both loved – brought a measure of comfort to the Jonin. They were days when Itachi got to have a something like a little brother – one that wasn't too obsessed with replicating his ninja career to spend time with.

'I should get Naruto to prank Obito...' Itachi paused in his journey, while the thought was suppressed. 'The two would probably get along – and I'd never hear the end of it from mother.' His Sharingan spun as he purged the idea from his mind. The Uchiha shivered,

Itachi was finding it hard to remain focused on his surroundings. For three months now, he had found a relative peace – relaxing was something he felt he could afford, at least momentarily. After his first real meeting with Naruto, he'd slowly been granted more freedoms in his assignment. At first, it had just been to train the blonde when his teachers' schedules wouldn't allow it. It had then turned into an escort duty, outside of the Academy, whenever Naruto needed something from the shops.

Passing by some of the gated and shuttered shops on his journey home brought a handful of related memories bubbling to the Uchiha's attention. 'I can't believe the things those bastards thought they could get away with.' The prices they'd tried to charge the blonde would have made a pauper of the Daimyo – let alone an orphan child.

Strictly speaking, he wasn't supposed to step in unless Naruto had been in trouble – it was on one of the pair's first outings that he'd learned of the death threats that made frequent rounds in the village proper. 'And he never told anyone about this... He didn't want them to get in trouble.'

Shaking his head, Itachi shunshined the rest of the way to his apartment, the crowd having dwindled enough. From the center of the market sector to the middle of the Uchiha compound wasn't too far, but even the Sharingan active he couldn't navigate a crowd at top speed. Luckily, the rest of the village was wide open.

He sighed contently as he set foot in his home - the weight of his conscience had been steadily diminishing over the months - thoughts of murder and betrayal, of double and triple-identities were all safely tucked away until he'd need them again. The moment his job ended, he could relax.

The last time he'd held a kunai in his hand outside of training was to teach someone who had been defenseless – that person could now defend himself against any civilian threat. The thought – that Naruto wouldn't have to worry about any incidents this year - brought a small smile to the stoic ninja's face.

'Maybe I'll be a teacher, for a while – it's more rewarding than some of the things I've done.' His feet brought him through the tiny foyer, to a small hall to his bedroom. He didn't doubt his ability as a teacher; Itachi had always excelled at whatever he put his mind to.

'But then, this assignment isn't going to end any time soon...' Itachi stretched out over his bed, fell, and simply relaxed where he lay after a couple of bounces. He was untroubled by the thought – it was good money, and he enjoyed what he was doing. Besides, the fireworks were due to begin – he didn't have time to continue this sentimental reminiscing.

Unbidden, more thoughts came to mind as he undressed. 'Eight months until the first graduation exams, another three years until he graduates, and from there, hopefully only another year until he's out of my hands.' As his thoughts continued down this path, Itachi found it irksome that Naruto's training was still being limited.

'It makes no sense to corral him in this way; I could have made him Chunin material by now. "Hokage's orders" is one thing, but there's something off about this.' To be an effective ninja, he had the ability to silence his emotions – but his mission blurred the lines between his duty towards his Kage, and his duty towards Konoha as a whole.

The only concessions, in this case, were secret promises and backroom deals. The reintegration of the Uchiha Compount into Konoha proper was one – the rest were personal, and dangerous to both parties if found out. Too much was at stake for unknowns to keep popping up.

He began, donning more formal clothing to meet with his family. Though he wouldn't stoop to civilian clothing, like Obito and Shisui, the 'Honourable Uchiha Garb' his brother and father favoured caused too many people to mistake him for a woman – unwanted suitors would often continue harrassing him even after he'd made his gender clear.

He opted instead for maroon pants - tied at the waist with an Uchiha sash - and a fine silk shirt; it was a masculine navy, and tight enough to get the point across that he didn't have breasts. 'If only it had the word 'pissoff' embroidered across the chest...' The thought had him laugh involuntarily – a bark that was gone as quickly as it came.

With a final glance around, Itachi exited his apartment. And even his eyes failed to notice the darkness that had followed him all day, prompting his thoughts and feeding off the troubled emanations that followed. In a wisp of smoke, the Baku disappeared.

Two red eyes glowed, as if lit by an inner flame, above Konoha's rooftops. They belonged to the face of a fox that dwarfed buildings, whose nine tails seemed alive behind it. After a few shimmering seconds, the image faded away to a dull orange smear, to be replaced with a soaring dragon.

"These get better every year, you know." Across from Itachi sat one of the few women he could tolerate – an exclusive list that included his mother, a couple of his cousins, and Anko... if your definition of 'tolerate' extended to 'unable to get away from without resorting to violence'.

Olivia Uchiha wasn't a close relative, nor was she close to him in age or ability – she'd forgone the path of the ninja for a civilian career, and was a good many years older than the prodigy. That didn't stop her from drinking him under the table any chance she could. "Next year we'll have to fight one of them off again, I'd bet my panties." She was well into her second hot Sake.

Itachi smiled warmly – eyes creasing at the corners in genuine mirth, rather than simulated diplomacy. Unlike with Anko, Olivia wouldn't try to force herself on him – their times together were another reason he didn't mind being in Konoha for such an extended period.

Still, leaving a conversation hanging in favour of ogling the company's assets would not be becoming of the Uchiha heir. "And you doubt some strong, capable ninja would be there to protect you?" Her smile was all the answer he needed. Unfortunately, her next jab was out of the blue. "It's a shame we lost the Uchiha grounds in the exchange – I've heard your father is still bickering with the filibusterers and bureaucrats over where we'll end up after the accounts are in order."

It was dry, but he followed along - more interesting topics could be saved for when they were out of his mother's presence. "For now, all we can hope for is that our name can pull us through until we've got the backing to plow through such unpleasantries."

For a few moments they just shared in the beauty of the night – Sasuke nearby was far too 'cool' for fireworks at his age, instead choosing to grumble about being unable to drink 'adult juice' and having been pulled away from his training. Nearby, the laughter of children caught his attention, and Mikoto allowed him out of her hair to play.

Shortly after, the music began – deep drums sounded first, and the chanting of singers. Then, horns and flutes joined in, and the plucking of stringed instruments started to lift the spirits of the tune.

To Itachi, the song was balance and blend – the steady melody and refrain clashing time and again with chorus after chorus, prevailing through in a rising crescendo of powerful rumbling percussion. Olivia's comment was lost to Itachi as the parade passed by them, but the tilt of her eyesbrow wasn't – the two disappeared in a whirl of leaves as the music reverberated in their blood, igniting passions in more ways than one.

That night, with no Baku to stop them, Itachi's dreams brought the terrible nightmares he'd all but forgotten crashing forth. His mind, unprepared and still reeling from the alcohol and sex, burst into wakefulness immediately. It wasn't until the ringing in his ears stopped that he realized he'd been screaming – Olivia sobbing on the bed as killing intent wafted off of him.

He reached out to her, and recoiled as if burned as she pulled back in fear. 'The things I've done... ' He had no time for coherent thought, no time to explain himself to her. With a shunshin he returned to his home, digging pills out of a drawer he'd left unopened for months – standard issue antipsychotics, antidepressants, sleeping aids, and herbal remedies for all sorts of stress-related illnesses; if it worked, it was in the cabinet.

There was no light in his eyes as he awoke the next day, and no spark to his movements. Itachi's face was pale as the ivory mask he wore. His parents would understand; hopefully, his brother would too. And he'd make it up to Naruto, somehow. In the meantime, he would be Bull, and Bull alone. Itachi had lost them far too much to continue otherwise.

Itachi didn't see Naruto for two weeks, as he underwent numerous psychological evaluations. When the two regained contact, the Uchiha could tell that Naruto knew something was off. Likewise, the blonde seemed withdrawn – though it was hidden well, or something that he'd dealt with already and was just now getting over. 'It's not like it matters.' The Anbu reasoned, unalarmed at his own laissez-faire attitude. Eventually, he found something suitable to say. "We begin your training tomorrow. Come immediately after classes. Bring nothing. Tell no one."

One thing Itachi had had over the weeks was time. Time to plan, time to piece far too many missing variables together. 'Sometimes it's easier to look at what isn't there.' Barely acknowledging Naruto's response, he turned to the presences of the two Chunin who also held a hand in training the blonde.

"As of now you are dismissed from this assignment. Compile your reports and give them to me when you're done." 'Hopefully I can salvage something from the mess you've left me.' He could already see, from the reading he'd done, that the assistant teachers had done excellently with the resources and training they had. Unfortunately, Bull's standards were higher, and his plans had changed.

With that, the Anbu dissolved into crows, Itachi's Chakra restructuring itself into more clones elsewhere. He had much to do, and little time for it all – Hiruzen wasn't slow, and Danzo would still be watching somehow.

Elsewhere, the real Itachi absorbed information from his clones as they enacted what would hopefully culminate in a fulfilment of a number of his goals. 'Regardless, Naruto comes first. Konoha must survive the Maelstrom that's coming.'

Two weeks pass. Itachi's medication fails to keep his nightmares at bay. His best friend – Shisui – is outed as a sleeper agent of Danzo and attempts to assassinate Itachi before the heir can dig too deeply. Now, in a small clearing, the two confront each other for the last time.

"You cannot be allowed to see the tablets, Itachi – I can't stop myself, and I don't think I want to; I don't think you'd use them for the good of Konoha, in the state you're in." Shisui was genuinely worried – Itachi had grown increasingly withdrawn over the past month, and had been impossible to locate for days on end.

When it came to it, however, the choice was wretched from his hands. Shisui could only watch as, with bloody tears streaming down his face, his body ran a tanto through the heart of his best friend.

Shimmering into existence behind him, Itachi's katana slid without sound out of its sheathe. Shisui was paralyzed where he crouched, tanto rammed into the ground, as Itachi's genjutsu slowly stripped away his control over muscle and body.

"I read them last night, my brother." In a single, fluid motion, Shisui's body was separated from its head. Both were sealed into scrolls. Water bubbled forth from the ground, a tidal pool that dissolved the evidence of their struggle much more efficiently than it absolved Itachi of his sins.

Under the light of a full moon, Itachi sheds the blood of all but a few Uchiha. Leaving a generation of orphans in his wake, the 'Traitor Uchiha' leaves the village, following a masked man in a black cloak. Staring at his back as he leaves, a young Sasuke cries tears of blood – his brother's eyes burn every detail into his soul. In a warping that hurts to watch, Itachi and his companion disappear without trace.

Nearby, the victims of the massacre begin to gather around – stirring whispers alert their attention to the only survivor of notable age.

"Sasuke." Olivia shakes the boy, ignoring the blood staining his face and shirt, ignoring the onyx orbs crushed beneath his feet. "Sasuke you've got to move, this whole place is catching on fire." Black flames spread from building to building, and yet the boy refused to move.

Then, the light left his eyes, and he slumped into her arms. Hauling him over her shoulder with some effort, she dashed as quickly as possible toward the village proper – less than a score of children remained.

"Well, Madara, we've done it. A generation doomed to hatred." The eternal mangekyou spun in his eyes, as he contemplated the cloaked figure before him. The words sounded lame, hollow – like a joke with no punchline. They both knew that Itachi's motives were his own.

"Indeed," came an equally hollow reply. "Welcome to Akatsuki."

That night there were no nightmares. That night, Itachi died. Born from his ashes, a terrible purpose. That night, Bull became Ushioni, the Demon Ox of the Elemental Nations. And the nations trembled at his roar.