Iroh glanced down at the prone preteen in front of him, and sighed heavily. He hadn't intended to fly off the handle like that, and he certainly hadn't wanted to draw attention to himself. He'd devoted his attention to saving lives, and not taking them. To be fair, it wasn't as if this snake fellow would be missed. In fact, Iroh suspected that the whole of the continent would be better off with his passing. Iroh felt a need to apologize, but to whom he wasn't sure. The villagers he had saved didn't seem too put out at still being alive, strangely enough. But the boy in front of him stared up with a fearful expression that seemed to cut to Iroh's very core.

"How old are you?" Iroh inquired quietly, gesturing limply at the boy in question.

The boy glared down at the ground and clenched his fingers in his hands so viciously that Iroh wouldn't be surprised if he'd drawn blood. When he looked back up, Iroh tried not to start at how dark the boy's eyes were. His irises appeared black, and Iroh had always thought that black was more of an absence of light than anything else. But when he looked into those eyes, what should have been a void was full with a mixture of fear and hate that Iroh understood quite well.

"Thirteen" the boy croaked angrily after a long moment, his eyes never leaving Iroh's. "What are you going to do to me?" the boy demanded angrily, but Iroh could see that his body was betraying him. His eyes were threatening to fill with tears, and the boy shook with frustration.

Iroh had to admire his spirit, if nothing else. But what was he going to do with the boy? It was a good question. He'd been with the man threatening the whole village, but had not raised a hand against himself or the villagers that he'd seen. He looked for the entire world like Zuko, when they'd set sail from the Fire Nation in disgrace.

It burned. It wasn't the kind of heat that Iroh was accustomed to. Fire was warm and inviting. It could be used for good or evil, to destroy or to help, but this wasn't fire. This was liquid hell coursing through his veins, and he felt himself growing weary just looking at the helpless child in front of him.

"Well?" the boy demanded, getting up on his feet and closing the distance between them. "Are you going to kill me, too?"

Iroh finally broke eye contact with the boy, and stared sorrowfully at the ground. "No" he sighed, turning away and facing towards the exit of the town. He couldn't look at that face anymore. He saw that desperate need in those eyes, but Iroh did not think he would be able to help this boy any more than he had been able to help either of the ones before. Tears welled up in his eyes, and he took a slow shaky step towards the edge of town.

A hand caught him, the grip stronger than he ever would have anticipated. He stopped in his tracks, and slowly turned back to face the child he so desperately wanted to escape.

"You can't just leave me here" the boy half-pleaded, half-demanded. "Show me how you did that."

Iroh shrugged the tiny hand off of his shirt, and closely examined the boy in front of him this time. He was dirty, no doubt because Iroh hadn't spared any strength in attacking the boy's master. He had a proud posture that again reeked of his nephew, and Iroh barely suppressed a shudder. He had to stop seeing Zuko everywhere, it wasn't healthy. His high collar obscured his neck and the bottom of his face, and he had shuriken and kunai in a pouch on his belt. He had been trained, no doubt, but in what Iroh didn't know. He had had little to no experience with ninja, as a general that hadn't been his area of expertise. The boy had some potential; he had no doubt, as his stance and practiced ease now indicated. He hadn't been battle hardened, but someone had certainly spent the time preparing him for confrontations.

Iroh sighed again, and brought his hand up to his head to rub his right temple. He likely wasn't from here, there were no other potential combatants in sight, and the villagers were giving both of them an extremely wide berth though they were severely impeding traffic. "Where are you from? You should go home." He stated kindly but firmly, trying desperately to push the nagging feeling he had away from him.

The blank look the boy gave him confirmed all of his fears all at once. "Not here" the boy admitted sullenly. "And I can't go back home, anyway. There is nothing for me there."

Iroh felt like his hand was all that was holding up his head. "Don't you have family or friends that miss you?" he pleaded. "You should go home to them, instead of worrying them by being out here like this."

Iroh immediately regretted asking, as the boy tensed and glared at the ground. "No" he whispered. "They're all gone. They're dead." He slowly looked up and stared into Iroh's eyes again, and Iroh knew that if he didn't make his escape now, he would have to relent.

But he couldn't leave him here alone and afraid, so like his nephew. The boy was lashing out like a madman, trying and hoping desperately that he would catch and keep anyone, anything. He was afraid, and the fear was turning to hate. Iroh couldn't bear to see it, regardless of his personal burden.

The boy reached out to grab his sleeve, and Iroh could not deny the determination in his eyes. "Train me," the boy rasped quietly, "please."

"Move, elder" Sasuke pleaded in his mind, but the elderly man did not budge. Sasuke's stomach did somersaults as he tried to prepare himself for what Orochimaru was going to do. He knew that Orochimaru would likely punish him if he showed any fear or discomfort, and so he stood as straight as he could, and willed his legs to stop shaking.

They weren't interested in obeying at all, and so Sasuke settled for watching the elderly man on the street and willing the entire situation to disappear. That wasn't working out so well, either. But he had to kill Itachi, didn't he? He would have to be well acquainted with death before his journey was over.

Sasuke's eyes opened wide as the man made a strange circular motion with his arms, and let loose lightning that even Kakashi could have never produced.

Sasuke leapt out of the way as fast as he could and still wasn't fast enough. He felt his back burn and was extraordinarily glad that he had chosen to dodge, even as he fell to the ground. He realized that he couldn't get up, but couldn't bring himself to be anything other than relieved. At least maybe Orochimaru would stop slaughtering villagers now, he thought, when he heard a piercing scream that he was sure would haunt his dreams for years to come.

He angled his head up to where Orochimaru had been, and was startled that he was still there, evidently wreathed in pain. Orochimaru writhed and screamed, and watched in fascinated horror as Orochimaru's limbs appeared to wither and burn. Orochimaru twisted again, and fell to the ground.

With a last otherworldly howl, a Sannin passed from the world.

Sasuke couldn't believe it. One minute, he had been standing next to Orochimaru, feeling sick to his stomach, and the next he was on the ground, covered in dirt and blood.

Just what in hell did that old man DO?

Orochimaru had crumbled with one hit from what had appeared to be a little old man, without any ninja training or an advanced chakra system that Sasuke could sense.

One hit.

It made his head hurt just to think about the implications. He lifted his head heavily and tried to examine the man in front of him, but his vision was blurring and twisting. He could only make out his shape as the man walked calmly closer.

"You're stronger than Orochimaru" Sasuke croaked, uncomprehending. His head dropped unbidden onto the ground again, and Sasuke furiously tried to regain proper control of his body. After a moment of frantic struggle, his body slumped entirely on the ground.

Sasuke considered his options. Maybe he had been going about this all wrong. Orochimaru either wasn't as strong as he'd said, or this man was just incredibly powerful. Either way, he was now far from Konoha, without a teacher or anyone at all, really. Kabuto and the others wouldn't have any use for him now, he had only been accepted as Orochimaru's new vessel. They'd more likely kill him than train him, and none of them were as strong as Orochimaru in the first place.

So his only real option was to convince this man to train him. But how? He didn't know what the man wanted, and he'd just been associated with Orochimaru, a legendary Sannin that this man had just put down with extreme prejudice in one attack.

In all likelihood, Sasuke was going to die.

Iroh resisted the urge to glance back at his angry shadow. The boy had followed him without another word after Iroh had agreed to train him, even as he packed up the proof that Orochimaru was deceased and got back on the road to the Land of Iron to report to Mifune. The trek had only taken about two days, but the boy had said absolutely nothing to Iroh, and Iroh nothing to him.

He didn't even know where to begin, to be honest. "I, too, am incredibly and irrevocably alone" didn't sound right, and neither did "Want to see me breathe fire at things?" If he'd been a normal little boy, getting covered in scrapes and bruises, happily bounding all over the worn walking path, this would have been easier. He could have laughed and joked and tried to forget the pain of his past life, at least for a little while.

But this child was a storm cloud, long since deserted by the warmth of the sun. How would he even train him? Firebending required a temperament this boy didn't appear to possess. He was alternatingly cold and hot, passionate and then utterly removed.

That, he supposed, would have to be the first thing he addressed once he had delivered his report to Mifune. He didn't really know this child at all. He had not offered his name yet, and his actual disposition had yet to be determined. Luckily, Iroh knew a good way to find what was truly in someone's heart.

"What the hell is Pai Sho, and what does this have to do with training me?" the boy demanded sulkily, after taking the seat across from Iroh.

Iroh smiled as he set out the tiles, saving his precious lotus tile for last. "Maybe nothing, perhaps everything" he smiled beatifically, and leaned back into his chair. "You can go first" he prodded, as he had explained the rules of the game to the poor boy earlier.

The boy scowled, and made his opening move, placing his lotus tile carelessly on the board.

Iroh smiled.

"So, what is your name?" Iroh asked diplomatically. The boy groaned, looking sadly over the devastation Iroh had wrought upon his strategy. It was the fifth game they had played today, and the boy was showing some real promise, devising strategies Iroh had rarely seen before in such an inexperienced player.

Unfortunately for the boy, Iroh spent quite a bit of time playing Pai Sho.

The boy looked up, defeated, and Iroh resisted the tug of a smile. "Sasuke" the boy stated. "Uchiha Sasuke".

"That's a nice name" Iroh acknowledged, as he placed the winning tile upon the board. Sasuke slumped in his chair, and took a long moment to think. When he looked up, Iroh thought he could almost see a twinkle in the boy's previously vacant eyes.

"Again" Sasuke demanded. "Let's play again."

Iroh obediently cleared his pieces, and began again.

"You didn't know my name" Sasuke stated plainly later, and Iroh glanced away from the beautiful scene outside the window to meet his student's gaze.

"I just met you" Iroh chuckled. "I possess many talents, yet mindreading is not one of them."

Sasuke just looked confused. "Have you never heard of the Uchiha clan?"

"I've not heard of them" Iroh supplied gamely, shifting more of his attention to the broody preteen in the opposite chair.

The boy's mouth was agape, and he stared Iroh down with a confusion Iroh would liken to a mildly concussed puppy.

"My clan is very famous" Sasuke asserted with fervor.

Iroh cracked a smile. "Well, I'm very famous where I come from as well. But no one has heard of me here."

The boy managed to look even more confused than he had previously. "I've never heard of you. Where are you from?" the boy demanded, leaning across the table and nearly knocking over Iroh's precious ginseng tea.

"Very far away" Iroh acknowledged. "I don't doubt that your clan's name carries weight here, but I have not heard of them before."

"Hn" Sasuke grunted, and Iroh could tell he was deep in thought.

"What is your name?" Sasuke asked, obviously still thinking.

"My name isn't so important," Iroh said, waving a hand to dismiss the idea, "but you can call me Sifu Iroh."

"I win again!" Iroh chirped happily as he began to clear the board. "I think I've had enough for today, haven't you?"

Sasuke broke his trance and looked around, realizing for the first time that they had spent the entire day playing Pai Sho.

"What kind of training was that?" he grumbled, moving to leave his chair and stretching as he stood. He stalked towards Iroh, but Iroh could sense that he wasn't actually angry. "When are you actually going to teach me things?" Sasuke asked grumpily.

Iroh chuckled. "And to think I thought you were paying attention. I already have."

Sasuke rolled his eyes and shuffled out of the sunroom towards the bedroom Mifune had provided for him.

"What do you think of him?" Iroh asked quietly of the room's only other occupant. Mifune glanced up from polishing his sword, and nodded briefly.

"He has promise" he stated calmly. "But he is impatient, and impulsive."

Iroh glanced over at him in an even manner. "But he is young, and he can be tempered with time and work."

Mifune nodded slowly, as he resumed his slow polishing ritual. "If he listens, he would make a worthy student. He learns quickly, and sometimes displays insight beyond his years. It is a worthwhile occupation for you, I think. Provided that you are inclined to take it, of course."

"Do you know anything of these Uchiha?" Iroh asked politely. It wouldn't do to further offend the poor boy.

Mifune straightened considerably and gave Iroh a considering look. "They are, or were, a ninja clan from the Land of Fire. They resided in the Hidden Leaf Village, I believe."

"Were?" Iroh pried delicately.

"A few years ago, one of their members, a young prodigy named… Itachi, I believe… slaughtered the whole clan in their sleep."

"And Sasuke..."

"Must have been spared, I suppose. Unfortunately, I know very little of the matter. We have neutral relations with all of the other nations, including the Land of Fire. I would advise asking someone from his village, but he appears to be a missing ninja and has deserted them." Mifune then released his gaze on Iroh and resumed his careful work.

"I suppose they don't take desertion lightly" Iroh supplied softly.

"No" was the short answer he received. "However, he is very young and it is not a time of war here. It is possible that they may accept him back. But he cannot stay here with me, either" Mifune fixed him with another wilting gaze "as he is a missing-nin. They will not take kindly to him being harbored by a neutral country."

"But, per se, if he were wandering the Land of Iron with supervision, unbeknownst to you?" Iroh asked.

Mifune considered the scenario Iroh had painted for him. "They would be unlikely to look for him here, and you are considered a guest" he stated carefully. "If we were unaware of his continued presence, no other nation could fault us. They all share much the same problem, with missing-nin as rampant as they are."

Iroh turned to stare thoughtfully at the snow covered hills out of the window, and hummed softly to himself.