The revised version of the third chapter.

Reviews are always welcome ;)

Standard disclaimer applies.

Chapter 3

Perspective

Itachi sighed impatiently as he waited for his medic to make an appearance. His old one was out of commission after he had complained against her constant and frankly ghoulish perverted gestures. Though the old woman had denied it vehemently, she could not defeat the testimony of the heir of the Uchiha clan. She had been practically dragged away, and the head of the department had personally come to give an apology.

"She's a bit mad," he had stated sheepishly. "She causes a lot of trouble, but she's well-versed in the art of medical ninjutsu, so we have to keep her. I don't know what my deputy was doing, assigning her to you like that – she's well known for having an unhealthy interest in young men, especially those whom she considers 'attractive'. We have assigned a new medic to you – one of our best. I will personally make sure that both the old crone and the person in charge will be punished – so there'll be no reason to complain to your father, eh?" he had said while laughing nervously.

Itachi gritted his teeth. The director hadn't cared at all about how he was faring – the only thing that mattered to him was to make a good impression on the heir of the Uchiha clan, and subsequently, the family head, Fugaku Uchiha. Their patriarch held great importance in the village council, and those who were on favourable terms with him had an advantage in any enterprise they might devise. The little episode with the director had been no new thing – it was common knowledge that Itachi was the apple of his father's eye. People naturally assumed that if anyone struck a noteworthy impression on Itachi it would automatically earn the favor of his parent.

That was why they had always bothered him, not Sasuke. Even the sycophants invariably overlooked his younger brother, and Itachi was well aware that Sasuke resented him for that very fact. It would make little difference if he tried to explain that no sane person would want to be the object of so many vultures' interests. That was not the point. As his father's firstborn, and thus his heir, Itachi had been treated like a prince from the very start. People were eager to make his acquaintance, to please him, to attract his attention. His own father had done nothing to discourage it – Fugaku was pleased that people admired his son.

Itachi knew that what they said was true – that he was a truly exceptional young man, that he would make the clan very proud one day – and fully believed it. For as long as he could remember, his father had always favoured him over Sasuke. Whenever Sasuke had tried to gain their lord father's attention, he had failed, owing to Fugaku being too busy obsessing over Itachi to bother with him.

It definitely didn't help when Fugaku compared the two of them either. Sasuke was smart, but Itachi was a genius. Sasuke had passed in class with 95% marks, Itachi had passed with 97%; Sasuke had learned to do the shadow clone ninjutsu when he was 11, Itachi had mastered it by 5. It had been, and would always be like that. His father favoured him because he could and did bring glory to the clan. Sasuke was just another spectator to him, born to praise his heir. He didn't matter as long as his elder sibling was doing well.

To make matters worse, Sasuke resented him for being the one that their father always cared about. And yet, at the same time, Itachi could not help admiring the sheer determination and will of his brother. No matter how many insults he had to suffer, no matter how many put-downs or comparisons, the younger Uchiha had always shown utmost respect to his father and brother.

Even he himself hadn't managed that – inevitably, his father would criticise him for some trivial matter and Itachi would lose his cool. There had been several such incidents. One of them had taken place in his formative years – but he did not want to think about that–who would? Another was when he was slightly older, in his early teens. He had protested against his father's training methods. The schedule allowed him virtually no free time, and he was sick of it. Itachi just wanted to be like the other boys his age – hanging out in the park, comparing their missions, bragging, and occasionally giving appreciative comments on the girls that they knew. Instead, he was forced to train and keep going on ANBU missions. After having to endure such treatment for years without end, he had completely lost control, and disobeyed his father in an unforgivable manner. He had been severely punished, and felt extremely guilty about the matter afterwards, but there was no one there to comfort him, to assure him that everything would be fine, no one like…

His mother. Mikoto.

Thoughts of his lost parent inevitably brought him comfort, in spite of the manner of their parting. Itachi didn't think he had ever met a kinder soul. She was the only one who had ever really understood him. He used to feel happy just seeing her, hearing her voice or simply having her presence near him. He had loved her more than anyone – more than his father, even more than Sasuke. She had always been kind and supportive, gifted with this special ability to spread happiness, even though she had never been happy herself, not really.

She used to tell Itachi otherwise, that he and Sasuke were the most important parts of her life, that just thinking about them gave her joy. He had believed her at first, had desperately tried to, but could not avoid the fact that she had been very sad for very long. Frustrated, he had asked his great-aunt Matsuki what was wrong, and she had looked at him gravely for a while, then finally proceeded to explain it to him.

The truth about his mother was hard to bear. Aghast, the child had tried to tell himself that it wasn't true, that his mother couldn't have loved anyone else apart from his father, but knew inside that… she had never truly loved Fugaku. She had been shoved into this marriage, forced to take him as her husband, and had never once protested for fear of shaming her family. It had been a marriage of convenience – all people of rank and power were forced into them. He himself knew that he would one day have to marry someone rich or powerful, and probably a complete stranger. Itachi had finally learnt what the reason for his mother's sadness was, even if could not fully understand it.

But she had never complained. Never, in the entire time that he had known her, had he ever heard her even mutter so much as a word of complaint – except once when he was 10. He had heard his parents quarreling over some issue, but could not discern what was being said. The argument had abruptly ended with a crash, and the next day Mikoto had a huge bruise on her cheek. He had been too ashamed of his own eavesdropping to ask her what she was fighting with her husband about. She had always supported him, even when Fugaku had ridiculed him, which was often in and of itself. Itachi was pretty sure that she would have been there for him through all the other arguments father and son had engaged in as he grew up. Unfortunately, she had never gotten a chance, all because of him…

He shook his head. It was no use of thinking about it now. It would only cause pain and misery. Sitting in his hospital bed, the master shinobi tried to recall what he was thinking about before he had started reminiscing about his mother, and nearly heaved a sigh of relief when he remembered.

His little brother had never once spoken back to their father. He was always the model of utmost respect, and yet the older man would refuse to acknowledge it, too blinded by his pursuit of power, recognition and ambition to do so. What a surprise it would be were Fugaku to learn that, in reality, it was actually Sasuke who had strength superior to his own – spiritual strength. He had never lost hope, and had continued to persevere in his dreams of rising out of Itachi's shadow, despite the continuous rejection he had received.

The older brother let a small, proud smile decorate his face, but that quickly turned into a frown. His sibling had been hurt far worse than he had as a result of his carelessness in the field, having suffered several wounds to his torso and legs. Sasuke had been stable the last time he had asked Shizune, though, so there was no need to worry.

Even though his little brother did not know it (it being necessary for a good shinobi to hide his emotions) and probably would not believe it even if he was told, Itachi cared a great deal about his otouto. Sasuke had really been far too young when their mother had died (murdered) – only 7 years old – and could not really remember her. This had always made Itachi slightly protective over him – he couldn't help it, really. He had always counted on the protection of his mother, so his subconscious mind refused to believe that Sasuke could survive without someone hovering over him in his defense. Since she was not around to do the job, Itachi took the responsibility upon himself. It had been 10 years since he had decided on that, and even though he knew it was pointless to worry over his brother like a mother chicken, he really could not help it. It had become a habit, one that he frequently criticised himself for.

He shook himself out of his reverie once he heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps in the corridor outside. Itachi cast a glance at the huge, ugly griffin clock on the wall in front of him (seriously, did Tsunade have no taste, or what?) and saw that it was 15 minutes past the time that his new nurse was supposed to come.

His eyes narrowed into slits in displeasure – there was nothing that he hated more than tardiness. Furthermore, the steps of the person rapidly approaching his room were light and carefree, obvious signs of being a female's. The thought left him feeling disgusted with the whole world – hadn't the stupid director learned from his previous mistake never to assign a woman to his room? Evidently not.

Itachi settled back with a groan – he couldn't even get rid of the medic now! Tsunade had warned him not to leave the bed, and threatened to beat him black and blue if he did. He wasn't scared of her, not really – he was just wary of the huge and inhumanly powerful punches she threw. A natural, sensible, and rather widespread concern in their village. The topic of complaints would have to wait until tomorrow, until the male orderly came. The fellow wasn't too fond of Itachi (apparently the girl that he fancied was 'madly in love' with him) but would have no choice but to get the warden for him. Then he'd be able to get rid of this annoying pest.

So resolved, Itachi then hardened his face, preparing to show her from the very beginning that he wasn't interested in her, although it wasn't likely that she'd notice. No one did – perhaps it was a rule in their guidebook: 'Disregard any and all expressions of disgust, as they are assuredly meant to test your devotion to him'. Or did fangirls even have a rulebook?

Itachi let out a startled gasp as the door slid open, immediately reprimanding himself for losing attention on the situation at hand. Such a mistake could be fatal on the battlefield. He slowly raised his head to see…

"You!" he gasped.

Sasuke Uchiha was in a very bad mood.

The S-rank mission he had been sent on had turned out to be a complete failure, AND he had suffered more injuries then his elder brother. It was his first S-rank, and he had hoped to, for once, outshine Itachi so that their father would actually notice him for once. But, as usual, fate was against him, and he had returned badly bruised and beaten up.

The only consolation was that Itachi had, technically, failed his mission too, and had also not returned unharmed. However, while his brother only had a slight concussion, he himself was suffering from a pierced torso and almost mauled legs. The Hokage had earlier told him that the only reason Itachi was still in the hospital was because he was one of Konoha's most important shinobi and had to have a complete check-up before he went anywhere. Otherwise, he was perfectly fit. And even if the Uchiha firstborn had failed his mission, his father would turn a blind eye to it, continuing to brag about the missions he had completed successfully. He wouldn't even notice Sasuke. In the unlikely event that Fugaku did (which was highly unlikely), all he would do was compare Sasuke's failed mission with Itachi's own successful first one, or comment on how his brother had managed to become an ANBU captain at the tender age of 13, whereas Sasuke wasn't even a jounin by 17.

But that was how it always went, wasn't it?

It would be both unfair and untrue to say that his earliest recollections consisted of how to please his sole surviving parent – that had come a little later on. No, those special places were kept for memories of his mother. He could only vaguely remember her: the swish of her pretty pink house yukata as she moved around, straightening cushions, gently directing the kitchen staff, making sure that her husband and sons were comfortable in every way and at every time possible. The sight of her smiling face each day after coming home from school as she enquired how his day had gone now held a cherished spot in his inner world. The way she sliced tomatoes, his favourite fruit, to make a salad just for him. He remembered her staying up all night after he had caught a cold, gently soothing him, wiping his running nose, giving him honey and lemon to soothe his cough, putting a wet cloth on his forehead when he turned feverish. There was nothing that could make him forget her kindness, her gentle nature, her motherliness, her affection, and most of all, her love.

It was all so much, and at the same time, too little.

He had been with his mother such a short time – only 7 years, and he couldn't even remember what had happened during the first 4. Sasuke had wracked his brain for memories of her apart from the ones that he already had, staying awake until late at night, searching, seeking for just one more glimpse of her lovely face, and sobbing himself to sleep when he failed each time.

He missed her so much.

His mother had sought to defend him against his father. As for Fugaku, he hadn't even cared about his younger son, the unwanted one, the reserve, to be used if something ever happened to the first, more precious child, just like a spare tyre. It had always been about him, the elder brother, his aniki, Itachi.

Itachi was the genius, the brilliant one, the pride of their clan, the splendid shining star who brought glory to his father. Their patriarch was proud to be called 'Itachi's father.' He did not care for the second son. The only reason Sasuke even existed was because his mother, Mikoto, used to complain about the conspicuous absence of their offspring every day from the house, and how she did not bear a child only to see him during breakfast and dinner. What his mother had actually been trying to do was lessen Itachi's training. However Fugaku would not hear of it, and insisted that she have another child to keep her busy. 'It will keep you off my back,' he used to say, Sasuke was told, 'and off Itachi's, too. Honestly, are you trying to ruin his future, woman?'

And despite all this, Sasuke had never hated his elder brother.

He had tried to do so, at first. He had wanted to despise him, to loathe the man that had taken the possibility of both fatherly and motherly affections from him. But he could not. Because he loved his brother.

His aniki had always been kind to him, been there for him, even helped to train him. He had attempted to protect him from their father's attacks, both verbal and physical. He had taken Sasuke's beatings, Sasuke's insults, Sasuke's blame, and had always tried to be the best brother that he could be. Sasuke recognized his attempts to protect him, to shield him from the harsh realities of the outside world, and he loved his brother for it. He knew that, at the end of the day, Itachi didn't want their father's attention as much as Sasuke wanted it. And he loved the fact that his aniki understood that, as well.

But there was no time to daydream just now. As mentioned above, Sasuke was in an extremely poor mood. Why, you ask? Not only was it because he had failed his first ANBU mission, but also because his medic had tried to molest him. He vaguely suspected that she was a member of his fanclub. She had the same whiny, violin-being-played-by-a-complete-amateur-who-really-had-no-talent-for-it voice.

With great difficulty he had managed to get a new medic. The hospital deputy director's secretary had angrily snapped at him (well, really Naruto. He couldn't even stand on his feet, much less walk down several floors on them) that most of the medics were in Suna, and that they could not afford to keep on reassigning him a new one. Even his name and clan title hadn't worked at all – the secretary was male, and his wife had apparently left him to join Sasuke's fanclub, so he wasn't exactly jumping from his seat to help the guy who broke up his marriage. Sasuke shuddered at the idea of the secretary's wife being his fangirl, or more accurately, fan-grandmother, since the man was actually 75 years old. The furious septuagenarian had only agreed to send another medic after Sasuke had requested Sakura go down there and threaten his manhood with her super-powered fist.

Perhaps in retaliation for these efforts, his new medic was a female.

The mission was a failure. He was bedridden for the foreseeable future. Naruto was screaming in his ear about how cute Sakura-chan looked in her new dress. His new medic was supposed to be arriving in about 15 minutes, most likely another fangirl – either his or his brother's, which equaled groping for him or gossiping and prodding about information on Itachi.

Could his day get any worse?

He closed his eyes and tried to shut out Naruto's obnoxious, orange voice. Honestly, had the dobe never learned anything except how to annoy people at the Academy? He tried to concentrate on other senses. Training while in the hospital. His father would be proud if he ever cast so much of a glance at Sasuke.

Suddenly, his ears pricked up. A very soft pair of feet were walking towards his door; small, hesitant, and definitely female. He would have thought that it was one of his crazed stalkers if they weren't so quiet– fangirls were always loud – and if he hadn't known that Shizune had banned them from coming anywhere near the Uchiha brothers. God bless that woman.

But back to the problem at hand. The feet were slowly but surely approaching his room – most unlike a fangirl's. Naruto was still snorting obnoxiously. And Sasuke knew exactly what was going on.

He only opened his eyes when the feet finally stopped at his doorway. The person outside hesitated for a moment before twisting the knob and opening the door to reveal…

"Naruto-kun! W-what are you d-doing here?"