A/N: This chapter is very late and I am very sorry. But I hope it is to an acceptable standard, because it WASN'T easy for me to write. I mean it. I had several of those days where I just couldn't write aaaanything. It really sucked. But! As of this chapter, this is the longest story I've ever written on any account (this is only my second- but still!). So, this is a moment to be celebrated.

I don't know how to celebrate it. You do it.

This also isn't very long. I am also sorry for that. But I feel it'd be awkward to stick anything more in here.

And as always, thank you to Ser Serendipity, best beta in the world, for trudging through my crappy work and giving me a kind and thorough commentary. Don't forget to check out his story Not Sick, which is legendary.

Enjoy the chapter!

Itachi was hesitant, and that wasn't something he ever liked to admit.

That was why he had to get the first hit in. He had to determine where exactly he stood with this man, no matter what. Itachi often preferred to talk before a battle, and decide what personality his opponent was to calculate a strategy. The brash were the easiest, the quiet were the hardest. But time was precious.

Itachi could not afford that time, and so he drew his katana and lunged.

"Man of few words, huh?"

'Stocky build. I can't take a direct hit. I'll have to deflect or dodge them.'

As Itachi came in with his sword, Kisame parried with the flat edge of his sword. Itachi took the opportunity to swipe his foot beneath his legs, pulling his sword with him so the pressure Kisame had put against Itachi's sword would throw him off balance. The man stumbled, as predicted, and Itachi swung his sword around in a clean arc and aimed for the his back-

He felt the water clone behind him a second too late.

The clone behind him held him in a steadfast grip, and as Kisame turned around with his sword poised to slice him into two, Itachi took a split second to infuse chakra into his feet and jump like the devil was after him. For a moment, he had believed himself unscathed, until he realised-

His chakra. It was depleted. The sword had grazed him, and stolen it away.

Eaten it.

"I guess you don't speak much for a reason! I can read you like a book!" Kisame pointed his sword at Itachi, laughing. His teeth made the look a whole lot more malevolent. "This is Samehada! And let me tell you," the blue man's grin grew wider, his teeth flashing, "he is hungry."

Itachi plunged his sword into the neck of the clone holding him with ease, before flipping to cleanly land on the other side of the clearing. 'This is the worst possible enemy. My weakness is my low chakra reserves... another hit from that sword and I may be completely drained.'

The Uchiha narrowed his eyes, and reached for a kunai. 'I'll have to end this quickly.'

Itachi flung the kunai forward, and as it hit the tree behind Kisame, the exploding tag on it's end went off. Kisame was flung forward, unscathed but disoriented – and for a split second, he looked at Itachi -

-there.

Kisame lunged forward, his sword catching Itachi off guard as he utilised the momentum of the explosion, and the spines peeking out of the bandages began to slice through Itachi, cutting, cutting-

-and Itachi exploded into crows, the birds fluttering abruptly, wildly-

Kisame frowned, mildly irritated at being caught off guard. 'Genjutsu? To be expected from an Uchiha...'

The man quickly flared his chakra, the world resuming its original state just in time for him to feel the full, unadulterated impact of Itachi's fist colliding with his jaw. Kisame felt his head spin as he was temporarily stunned, Itachi withdrawing his sword until Kisame used his height and strength to throw the man off of him with his legs.

Itachi gave the man a quick analysis. 'It took him a while to remove that genjutsu. It makes sense that someone so strong would lack genjutsu resistance.'

Kisame grinned, not even taking a moment to nurse his cracked jaw as blood spilled out of his mouth. He spat out a canine-like tooth, his smile now stained with red. "Uchiha! So reliant on their doujutsu. Say, Itachi, do you know what they call me?"

Had Itachi been younger, he likely would have asked.

But he was not, so he stayed silent.

"The Tailless Tailed Beast!" And with that, Itachi understood.

Kisame had released a veil of chakra over the area. Uguisubari no Jutsu was famed for it's tactical advantage over Uchiha, but it was also a kinjutsu in nearly every village that knew of it due to its insane chakra requirements. It required a constant layer of chakra in the surrounding area, that allowed a sightless but accurate representation of the area around someone. Short range, it was nearly useless – and few had the chakra reserves to cope with a large radius.

Itachi felt God laughing at him, as he realised his misfortune of coming into contact with one of the few people who did.

From here on, Kisame would know his location constantly, and be completely immune to any of his attempts at genjutsu.

'I'm at a significant disadvantage here – I'd better use that...'

Itachi jumped back to the other end of the clearing, launching a flurry of shuriken at at his opponent. 'There.'

The ninth shuriken hit its mark in the ground, and the clearing became filled with a thick, heavy mist.

Itachi had the luxury of seeing Kisame's face contort into an expression of annoyance, before he leapt into the trees and grabbed the small, red-headed Jinchuuriki. 'I can't afford to fight this battle. I have no chance- Konoha isn't far. My only hope is escape.'

"Clever tactic."

Itachi felt his heart drop as Kisame grabbed him by the collar and pinned him against the tree. As he pressed Samehada against him, Itachi could swear he had never felt so cold in his life.

"You planted that chakra-infused smoke bomb whilst I was disoriented in your genjutsu, didn't you? It's a shame. Although I learned Uguisubari no Jutsu in the Cypher Division..."

He was so cold. Itachi could not die here.

"...Samehada is drawn to a person's chakra. You had no chance of escape!"

Itachi knew he could not die here. He had things to fix. He had already set the shinobi world on the completely wrong rails. If he didn't intercept, the world would head full-tilt down a track into hell.

He thought of Sasuke, waiting for him.

'If I die here...'

He found himself struggling, pathetically, in hopes he'd see Sasuke again-

'...Sasuke will seek revenge. Sasuke will... live his life in hatred, alone once again, to avenge me...'

Itachi's vision was failing him, his struggles becoming weaker and yet-

'Sasuke will die, filled with hatred and alone.'

With that thought, Itachi pulled up the last of his chakra, and opened his eyes.

There was a scream, and Kisame was alight with black flame.

The smell of burning flesh filled Itachi's nose. Kisame clawed for his sword, his desperation causing the attempt to fail twice until he brought the blade to his chest. Samehada licked up the flames, but the skin was still red, raw, muscle wrecked and ribs slightly visible in places-

"You're just full of surprises, aren't you?" Kisame smirked, hacking up an impressive amount of blood. It smelled like smoke.

He straightened, and his smirk became a full-blown grin: full of amusement... and promise. "Let's meet again."

With that, Kisame was lost to the forest. Itachi reached out to his right, feeling for the child and feeling him sleeping on the branch.

'Good... yes, good. Time to... return to Konoha...'

His eyes shut, and Uchiha Itachi was lost to the world.

Itachi found grains of sand stuck in his eyes.

"Don't sit up."

He didn't. He coughed lightly, but winced as a shock of pain ran up his gut. Itachi felt the texture of a cold, wet cloth running itself over his eyes, and he blinked the stray droplets of water out of his eyelashes.

He leaned up slightly, looking at the bowl of water that Haku was rinsing the flannel in. The boy turned to him, a slightly exasperated expression on his face. "I told you not to sit up."

Itachi slowly leaned back onto the floor again. He looked to his right, and found himself staring straight into the face of Momochi Zabuza. If he had been a lesser man, Itachi might have jumped.

Zabuza coughed, the noise hacking and loud, before grinning beneath his bandages. "Good to see you, Uchiha." The man closed his eyes, his breathing heavy and strained. Itachi watched as Haku fussed over him with a wet cloth.

Itachi had misjudged him. Though he treated Haku as a tool and nothing more, the discerning eye could see how Zabuza cared. How he didn't brush off those attempts to help him; how Zabuza looked at him with a look in his eye that spoke of pride.

Itachi closed his eyes. "Why did you save me?" 'I tried to kill you. I didn't hesitate.'

It was quiet, and Itachi felt the soft, cold weight of the wet cloth on his forehead.

"You did not hesitate because it was for the sake of your village." Itachi heard the quiet sloshing of water in the bowl. "If you were an evil man, you would have tried to kill us even after a we were no longer your enemy. You are a strong ninja, and you saved our lives."

'Far from the truth.' Itachi blinked. "Where is the Jinchuuriki?"

Haku turned to him with an unusually irritated look. "Gaara-san."

Itachi blinked.

"He has a name," Haku reiterated, but gestured his hand to the ceiling.

Itachi looked up, and for a moment, saw nothing – but then reeled. The ceiling was formed of sand. They were in a small dome of sand.

Gaara, the boy who had been reported as insane to his very bones, had formed a protective dome about them. Reports had stated him as a bloodthirsty child demon, and yet there he was, saving them from intruders. Itachi had a sneaking suspicion it was the result of Haku's gentle nature. Itachi couldn't have imagined the people of Sunagakure being too amiable to an insomniac child murderer.

Gaara was residing in the corner, wide eyes visible in the dark. Itachi had heard that the boy could not sleep; he was as wide awake as ever, eyes watching carefully.

For a moment, Itachi thought. His mind felt like a thick, densely populated forest, and he felt like a crow, trying to find its nest amongst thousands of trees that simply looked the same. For that long, long, moment, Itachi thought.

"Thank you."

The boy flinched, eyes widening. "What?"

"Thank you for protecting me like this," Itachi said. "I won't forget it."

There was lightning everywhere, sharp sparks that flickered at his vision. The hallway was long, at the end was Naruto, a man, and-

A roar.

"ITACHI!"

"Sasuke?"

He jerked awake.

A yawn sounded from next to him, and Naruto rolled over to face him. "What're you screaming about...? It's like... early... look, the moon's out there..."

Sasuke relaxed. 'No danger. No lightning. Good.' He focused on the ceiling, briefly flicking his gaze to outside. Indeed, the gibbous moon was lingering in the sky. It was early. He'd had another nightmare. "Nothing. Go to sleep."

"Sure... just... just no more screaming..."

Sasuke wasn't sure how much time passed with him looking at the ceiling, but he could tell Naruto was not asleep. His breathing wasn't even, and he was shuffling every so often.

"Sasuke...?"

"What?"

"...are you having... y'know, bad dreams a lot?"

Sasuke paused.

"Sometimes. Why?"

Naruto yawned again, rolling over and facing Sasuke. "I dunno... I've had a couple too. They're... weird... lots of fighting..." The sheets of the futon rustled as he pulled them up to his chin. "Just... maybe we should tell each other the dreams while we can remember them... so we don't forget them..."

"Hn. What's the point in that?" Sasuke could see Naruto falling asleep.

"So... so we don't forget..."

Sasuke somehow felt that the statement had a hidden depth, but brushed off the feeling. He spent an hour looking at the moon before it passed out of sight, and he finally fell asleep.

In the whole of her so far short existence, Sakura had been awoken a variety of ways.

She usually just set her alarm on days when she needed to be up at a certain time. The noise was shrill, loud, and not repetitive enough for her to fall asleep to. On other days, Sakura was awoken by her mother, and her obnoxious cries of "Saaaa-ku-raaaaa!", which soon got her up in a flailing effort to make the noise stop. There had even been an occasion where her mother had banged the pans and pots in the kitchen together in the doorway of her room. Sakura had jumped out of her state of sleepiness so quickly she'd fell out of her bed and onto the mound of clothing she'd left beside her bed; it wasn't as comfortable as she'd hoped.

There had even come an occasion where her father was in and her mother was out at the market or something or other. Before even hearing a cry of her name, Sakura had found herself soaked with ice cold water. Her shriek had made her own ears ring for the entire day. It was one of the ruder awakenings.

But of all the ways Sakura had been awoken, choking on a thick heavy smoke was not one she'd learned to expect.

It had pervaded her dreams, first in scent, and then her lungs had clenched and she had lurched forwards, eyes open and aware and stinging like hell.

"Good morning, Haruno!"

Sakura very suddenly found herself pinned back down to the bed by a pair of strong hands on her elbows and bony, sharp knees digging into her thighs. A bright smile had very suddenly forced itself upon her close-range vision, to the point where it was a blurred mess.

The grin blinded her vision. "I'm Mitarashi Anko, and today, I'm gonna teach you the meaning of kunoichi! Get your ass down to Training Ground 10 quick enough and you might be able to walk tomorrow!"

In an instant, the vision was clear, and the only thing to be seen was the hem of a brown trench coat as it fluttered out of her window.

Sakura blinked, before falling back onto her bed and giving the ceiling a cold, hard stare.

"30 minutes! Way off, kid!"

Sakura huffed, her hands on her knees as she looked at the ground and tried to catch her breath. With a heave of air, she stood straight and opened her mouth to speak- when a stick bounced off her forehead.

The woman smirked, pushing herself off the tree branch and landing cleanly. She moved over to Sakura, crouching slightly to stand on her level. Sakura took in her appearance; tall, young, purple-haired and scantily-clad. Anko picked the stick up, and ran a finger up it's length.

"If I had infused this with chakra, it would have gone straight through your head and out the other side." Her grin widened, her eyes never removing from the slender wooden stick. "Your brains would be no good then, huh, kid?"

Sakura found herself shaking, the killing intent pouring off the woman in waves. 'This... this woman could have killed me! She will- she will kill me!'

Anko lunged forward, her eyes wild as she swept a kunai forward in a large arc with her right arm, and pain shot through Sakura, hurt, pain, blood, liquid streaming and she was screaming-

-and as the second ended, she realised that Anko had merely nicked her nose, the slice painful and the wound leaving a large but clean wound diagonally across the lower part of her nose. Sakura fell on her backside, crying and grabbing at her face. Her hands were drawn to the cut, the blood terrifying her, mixing with her tears of fear and agony.

Anko was there in an instant, lifting Sakura's chin to face her as she inspected the wound. Her gaze was calculating, but the look faded in moments to give way to an expression of nonchalance. Anko let go of her chin.

"Superficial wound, but it'll scar a delicate little ninja like you. Good."

Sakura's turbulent emotions faded to an empty feeling of shock. Anko turned her back to Sakura, hands in her trench coat as she tilted her head back.

"I was a prodigy in my class. I had the brains and the brawn, but I still wasn't strong enough to fight my enemies. Those with just the brains died in the field, and those with just the brawn were manipulated or killed by clever tactics." She tossed the kunai between her hands, swinging it playfully around her fingertips.

"The ninja world didn't make room for them, and it won't make room for you. Forget about your appearance unless you want to end up dead." Anko paused, the wind blowing lightly and making her trench coat rustle lightly. "I had friends stronger and smarter than you that were killed in a split second. You're an embarrassment to kunoichi, but I've decided to take pity on you."

Anko brought the kunai up and threw it over her shoulder.

"From today forth, you're the student of Mitarashi Anko-"

The blade buried itself between Sakura's sprawled legs, the blade inches away from knees but cleanly planted in the soil. The blade glimmered with the remnants of Sakura's blood.

"-so act like it!"

"-do you know who Sasuke-kun is?"

"I know of him. Why?"

"Sakura likes him! And Sasuke-kun likes girls with long hair. So don't you think, if she grows her hair long, he'll like her?"

"I'm sure if 'Sasuke-kun' likes a girl, it's not because of her hair. It's because she's a strong, reliable kunoichi. Wouldn't long hair just get in the way, if you're not going to have it tied up?"

'She's right.' Sakura blinked, looking at the blade. 'But I came here, wondering who had assaulted me this morning...'

Her fists clenched.

'...and she has the audacity to call me an embarrassment?!'

She stood up, yanking the kunai out of the ground and gritting her teeth angrily. "Who are you to tell me what to do...?" Sakura stepped forward slowly, and she found her voice becoming louder and more aggressive with every step.

"You turn up at my house, put me under a genjutsu, and say I'm your student? I don't need to be your student, and you don't need to take pity on me! I'm Haruno Sakura! And I'm not an embarrassment to kunoichi! I'll become strong on my own!"

The moment the words left her mouth, her cheeks became flush. 'Did... did I just say that? Oh God, and she's probably a jounin, I might never become a ninja!' Sakura opened her mouth to rectify her words, but found Anko pressing a finger against her lips.

The woman was grinning widely, but the expression was somehow gentle. "That's what I like to see, kid."

Jiraiya was never thrilled to see an Uchiha.

It wasn't because they were harsh on the eyes. In fact, they were renowned for their attractiveness; the figurehead, despite having been ugly himself, had produced a son whose looks sent women to the floor. Uchiha Itachi cared little. Jiraiya wouldn't hesitate to admit that his mother, Uchiha Mikoto, was beautiful, and as a jounin she'd been noted for her fluid fighting style and insane proficiency with genjutsu, even without the Sharingan.

But Jiraiya had learned over the years that Uchiha were generally bad news. Uchiha Obito, the anomaly of the clan, was dead. Uchiha Itachi, though Jiraiya knew him to be gentle and kind, was as sharp as they came; and Konoha loved its tools sharp, and so Itachi's presence symbolised the epitome of shinobi existence: war. And Uchiha Mikoto, perhaps the prettiest female in the clan, was dead.

So seeing the newest Uchiha at his doorstep, complete with a stony glare, was something that made Jiraiya want to go back to bed.

Sarutobi was at the child's side, his eyes indistinguishable amongst the plumes of smoke that rose from his pipe. He took a moment to smile slightly at Jiraiya. "Good morning, Jiraiya. I've a visitor for you."

Jiraiya cast a look down at the child. If questioned, Sarutobi would have likened it to the way one stares at a worm on their foot. "Yeah. I can see that."

"This is Uchiha Sasuke. I believe you two met the other day?"

'Yep. He was covered in snake bile, so we skipped the pleasantries.' "Yeah."

Sarutobi took a long draw on his pipe. "We've got some of the best seals masters to look at the seal on his lower back, but they're all stumped. You're the best I've ever met, Jiraiya. You taught Minato."

Jiraiya sighed. "I think the credit goes to Kushina for that one."

"Nonetheless. As a favour to me, could you take a look?"

He exhaled deeply, turning around and gesturing the two in.

Jiraiya's home at the moment was a bit too nostalgic for his tastes. The tables were all low, the place complete with paper sliding doors and tatami flooring. This was his favourite style of home – as Hiruzen well knew when he gave him the house – but it reminded him far too much of his old students. The hut they'd stayed in, amidst the continual rain, was too similar for comfort. Jiraiya found himself thinking about them a lot more; it was problematic for his writing.

'Yahiko, Nagato, Konan... where are you now?'

He shook his head, leading them into the first room on the right; it was a well lit study, the windows pouring in soft natural light. Manuscripts littered the desks, and the walls had shoddy-looking papers taped to them. The wallpaper was barely visible through the cracks.

Jiraiya led the child in, pulling up a chair. "You'll have to stand up for this. Do you know how to channel your chakra?"

Sasuke nodded, and Jiraiya frowned. 'Too cold. What else would I expect from an Uchiha?'

The boy stood with his back to him, taking his shirt off and channeling a slight amount of chakra. A strange pattern appeared at the small of his back, the central design so intricate it appeared almost as a black hole. As the ink sprawled outwards, it became a particularly odd and twisted pattern.

In all of his years of studying, Jiraiya had employed the cursive, flowing style of sealing. It was alike to a chakra system; no one had a straight-line chakra system, and so chakra flowed far more naturally through patterns just as fluid. And he had never met anyone who had thought or done differently.

But on the outside of the central design, the strokes were harsh. There was tiny smudges from the splaying of the bristles; this person had pressed hard – angrily, almost. These lines followed no order, pointing no specific direction; straight, jagged lines. Amidst them, stood tiny seals, cleverly done and scattered about the maze of ink. Jiraiya had never seen anything so peculiar in all his years of fuuinjutsu.

Hiruzen leaned in, squinting at the seal. "Strange, isn't it? I've seen nothing like it. It follows no natural laws of sealing at all."

Jiraiya frowned, taking a magnifying glass from his desk and kneeling to look at the centre of the seal. It was incredibly tightly-packed. Seals, swirling, interlocking seals at that; if Jiraiya didn't know better, he might have attributed those peculiar patterns to an Uzumaki.

"Jiraiya, I hope you wouldn't mind me taking a look?"

He didn't even turn, but he felt his muscles tense involuntarily at Orochimaru's presence in the doorway. The man chuckled, sensing his discomfort. The noise went through him. 'I think I'd rather die than let Orochimaru get his hands on an Uchiha.'

Jiraiya knew Sarutobi felt just as alarmed, but he stepped back. "You know the rules." 'Try anything, and you're dead.'

Not that the snake could try anything; his chakra was completely sealed, and his speed had been hindered with heavy resistance seals. Orochimaru was in no position to try anything.

He stepped forward, a pleased expression as he stepped past Jiraiya and the Hokage to kneel down slightly. He made a brief noise of thought as he examined the seal, before letting out a light chuckle. "Jiraiya..." he purred. "Your magnifying glass, please?"

Jiraiya gave him the magnifying glass as one would lift a cockroach off their food.

Orochimaru took the magnifying glass with an expression of false gratefulness, lifting the lens to peer at the central seal. His grin unnerved Jiraiya.

The pale man looked up at Jiraiya, standing up straight and turning to the two. Jiraiya couldn't help but notice how strange it was to see Orochimaru dressed so casually; he was wearing a loose yukata. He was too used to seeing him dressed in battle clothing. That was the only place they'd stood on the same ground in years.

"I recognise that seal." Orochimaru tucked a strand of hair behind his ear, and pointed at the outside of the seal. "I encountered it whilst rendezvousing with a spy in Kirigakure. I found him at the rendezvous point, dead, with this imprinted on his back."

He felt the skin beneath his fingertips tense. Orochimaru chuckled. "Perhaps things won't bode well for this little one."

"Do you know anything or not?" Jiraiya bit out, lips thin and eyes narrowed.

Orochimaru shrugged, a shoulder slipping out of his yukata. He pulled it back up, but Jiraiya was reminded of how pale his ex-comrade truly was. "I was curious myself," Orochimaru continued. "I took the corpse back and inspected it. The centre of the seal was reminiscent of Uzushiogakure, though this differs slightly to the one I encountered back then. It looks as though this one is storing something, instead."

There was a silence as Orochimaru mockingly considered the seal once more. He smirked, and drew his nail gently across each violent stroke around the centre of the seal. "After some research, I found seals just like this used in the Konoha Police Force." He pressed his thumb to the middle of the seal. "An Uchiha specific sealing method, called Bunsan."

Jiraiya didn't waste his time asking how he got his hands on the private files of the Konoha Police Force. "So what? What does that say?"

The man frowned briefly, looking intently at the seal. "An Uchiha and an Uzumaki, as partners, took down my spy. Though, I'll say one thing..."

Orochimaru took a moment to look at the seal once more.

"The Uzumaki is now dead."

A/N: Thank you all so much for being patient with my story writing skills – or lack of them.

Any faults with the chapter, please do tell me. Review and leave me a nice list of everything I've done wrong. I promise it'll make this story better if you do!

Thank all of you for your hefty support, you're all making a huge difference!