"Our shadow is getting tired." Iroh posited cheerfully.

Sasuke blinked. "Shadow?"

"The one we have had since we left the purportedly hidden village." Iroh yawned, and rolled out his shoulders. He was beginning to find travel wearying, even more so when awkward, gangly boys insisted on maintaining a rather pathetic tail.

Sasuke snorted and kicked a rock with undue irritation.

Most likely because he hadn't noticed their companion himself, Iroh supposed.

"What do you want to do about it?" Sasuke grunted, obviously trying to sound disinterested and failing.

Iroh shrugged, finding pleasure in the way the sun warmed his face. The cherry blossom trees were in bloom, and the wind carried their scent for what seemed like miles. It was altogether a very pleasant sensation.

"We could talk to him." Iroh suggested mildly. Sasuke had grown much more reliable over the years, but was still prone to the dramatic. If left to his own machinations, it was likely he would construct a plan so convoluted it would make Iroh's head spin.

"And say what? Hey, couldn't help but notice you're a stalker?" Sasuke kicked another rock, and Iroh restrained the urge to tell him to stop punishing inanimate objects. Instead, he sighed.

"I would plan on being less aggressive, but I suppose your strategy also has merit."

Sasuke looked at him, eyes narrowed. "When you say things like that, it means it doesn't. I'm not a little boy, you know."

Iroh hummed in faux thoughtfulness. "Undoubtedly. Why, I cannot even recall the last time you had me check in your closet for monstrous beasts."

That had exactly the effect he thought it would. Sasuke's eye twitched at the playful slight before relaxing. Sasuke let out a long huff of air and worried his bottom lip in concentration.

"So, he's really been following us for three weeks?"

"If not more." Iroh left that point deliberately vague. That was when he had first noted their unintended travelling companion, but it was likely that he was a ninja, and had been in pursuit of them much longer than that. The fact that he had not attacked them (despite many, many opportune moments to do so) indicated that he likely intended them no harm.

Iroh had been unsure of how long to wait. In the royal court of the Fire Nation, enemies masked their intentions for decades before making an overt move. In the battlefield, he had made moves months and even years in advance to secure success.

But why follow the two of them for weeks at a time, through deserted roads? He had thought it could be a spy for Tsunade, but it seemed unlikely. She would have never allowed a spy to become so lax as to let him see them. Iroh knew he was clever, but her pawns lived in the shadows.

No, this boy was after something. If Iroh didn't know better, he would say he was emotionally compromised. He only showed himself after any potential dangers (for less than a second), or when he would have been reasonably certain that they would not have noticed him. The first time Iroh had an opportunity to see his face was when the boy snuck into their room. Iroh had long perfected the art of feigning sleep (it was easier to foil assassination attempts that way), and had been rewarded with the sight of a boy that looked startlingly like Sasuke.

Of course, in looking like Sasuke, he looked remarkably like almost any Fire Nation boy Iroh might have known in his youth, but those looks were rare here in the Elemental Countries. They were distinctive, much like the long, black hair the boy had secured at the nape of his neck.

Honestly, it was likely a relative of Sasuke's. Maybe even the brother Sasuke had refused to speak of.

But all the speculation thus far had amounted to naught. The boy had refused to make his intentions known, and it was growing exceedingly tiring. Either he was a threat that would need to be taken care of, or an ally that Iroh would rather know about.

"Does he look like me."

Either Sasuke had noticed more than he'd cared to share, or he had fearsome instincts. He'd decidedly disposed of the more paranoid tendencies, so those were the likeliest options.

Iroh blinked his eyes slowly, in the matter Sasuke knew meant yes.

"Where is he now?" Sasuke said lowly, and Iroh could feel the fire roiling inside him like a furnace.

"Behind us would be the obvious answer for someone following us." Iroh said with a small amount of amusement. "He lingered beneath the copse of trees we passed some time ago. How close he is to us, I could not say."

Sasuke looked around at the deserted road and fields surrounding them. A cherry blossom flew into his face, and the petals separated on impact and flew into his hair. They wove and stuck in between strands while Sasuke solemnly eyed the horizon for any signs of their tail.

Sasuke sighed suddenly. "I'm never going to find him this way." He grumbled, and blew up to attempt to dislodge a petal from his eyebrows.

"ITACHI!" He bellowed. Iroh actually twitched a little in surprise, eyes wide at how bafflingly un-ninja-like that strategy had been.

Apparently, so did Itachi, because the genjutsu he'd been casting around them rippled in and crashed in upon itself. They turned back to see him awkwardly standing on the side of the road, next to a rock they'd passed a few moments ago. He appeared as though he was hoping that if he were to stand very, very still, they might not notice him.

Iroh stared between Sasuke and Itachi, and wanted to slap himself on the forehead.

Sasuke shrugged. "I thought the direct route might get better results this time." Having said that, Sasuke turned to the empty road behind them. "Itachi, if you're going to kill me, please just get over here. I don't have time for long, drawn-out intrigue with my only family member."

Apparently, Itachi felt thoroughly chastised. He visibly regained his composure, but stood silently on the side of the road, with not so much as a single twitch.

'So are the ridiculously wide collars a family thing?' Iroh wondered.

"I didn't think that would really work." Sasuke whispered, sidling a little closer to Iroh. To protect him or for protection was anyone's guess, really.

After a few awkward and silent moments, it became clear that neither boy was going to start talking. Or fighting, for that matter. They just continued to stare quietly, apparently drinking in the sight of each other. How many years had it been? Iroh tried to remember what he'd been told. Sasuke had been… seven, maybe? So they hadn't really seen each other in almost ten years.

That was an uncomfortable situation. He wasn't sure what to do with this. Unless…

"You know, I could really use a cup of tea and some lunch," Iroh mused, scratching at his chin. "We are not far from our stopping point. Follow us or don't." With that he began walking without another word. Sasuke shot an unsure glance at his elder brother, but shrugged and fell in step with the older man.

Sasuke didn't hear Itachi start walking, but after a moment he knew that his brother was following.

"Hello!" The pretty waitress greeted from the other side of the teahouse. She gracefully made her way to them and directed them to a small table in the corner of the establishment.

Itachi quickly and silently (a bit like an underwhelming shinigami, Iroh noted) slid into the seat in the corner. A good position for observation, definitely. Not so convenient for escape.

Iroh took advantage of the slip by blocking Itachi's exit on his right side, and Sasuke took the left. They had him well-flanked. It was surprising that a ninja would make that sort of mistake with potential enemies.

Then again, Itachi was supposed to have been lauded as a genius. There might just be something Iroh was not accounting for. Perhaps Itachi had hidden bunshin in the teahouse before their arrival?

He took a wary and unobtrusive look around the teahouse. There were a few young couples sequestered in another corner, but there were no other occupants. A girl about Sasuke's age swirled her finger to wipe up the last of her dessert, and playfully inserted it into a boy's mouth.

Iroh looked at the malnourished, rigid teen in front of him and stifled a snort. No, those likely weren't anything Itachi would have dreamed up.

"Welcome to our teahouse." The waitress bowed deeply. Iroh caught Sasuke determinedly looking in any direction that didn't have a woman's (tastefully covered) bosom in it.

'What would they be doing without me here to ameliorate their social ineptitude?' Iroh thought with some humor. But he already knew the answer. They would likely still be standing on the road outside of town, not talking to each other.

He chose not to comment on that. Instead, he gave the waitress his most charming smile.

"How may I serve you today?" She asked politely. Neither Itachi nor Sasuke seemed to be interested in looking at her, so she addressed Iroh directly with a hopeful smile.

"We would like some jasmine tea." Iroh inserted smoothly, before Sasuke could start making ludicrous demands. Hot water and lemon, indeed. The corner of Sasuke's mouth twitched. "And I would like chicken karaage."

"Miso and a plate of dango, please." Sasuke growled through gritted teeth.

They all looked to Itachi. He bowed his head politely at the waitress. "The karaage, please."

The table stayed eerily silent until the waitress returned with the pot of tea. Iroh gratefully took it from her and poured three cups before Sasuke could protest.

"See, Sasuke? I told you tea fixes everything!" Iroh took a deep, calming breath of jasmine-scented air, and Sasuke merely rolled his eyes in response.

He suspected that if Itachi were capable of facial expressions, the one he would be wearing now could be easily called "dumbfounded gaping".

Iroh snorted, and Itachi's hand twitched on the table.

The food arrived, and Iroh savored his chicken karaage happily. The combination of ginger and garlic made his mouth tingle and water.

Itachi ate his delicately and without any enthusiasm, which seemed a sad fate for a well-prepared dish. He didn't even really finish it.

That was odd. Itachi wouldn't have really had time to eat since they stopped the night before. He almost had to be hungry by now. But he picked at his food like a spoiled toddler. Iroh could even swear he saw a grimace.

Sasuke pushed an untouched plate of dango in front of Itachi with faux carelessness.

"You still like those, right? I don't want them anymore." He said airily.

Iroh didn't think Sasuke was fooling anyone, even the pretty waitress that shot Sasuke a knowing look before scurrying back into the kitchens.

Itachi moved jerkily towards the dango, and hesitantly pulled it closer to himself.

"Yes." He said in a monotone, before awkwardly picking up a stick and daintily pulling the first piece off with his other hand. "Thank you."

Iroh watched Itachi quickly and politely clear the entire plate, but Itachi never moved his gaze towards either of them.

It was obvious the boy had been hungry, but apparently manners in him died hard. Iroh shot an evaluative look over at Sasuke, who in comparison abandoned any pretense of manners most of the time and ate something more like a wild boar.

Sasuke felt his teacher's stare before he saw it, as he was trying desperately to look anywhere but in the general direction of his strangely well-mannered homicidal lunatic of a sibling. He returned the look with a confused one of his own, before his shishou pinched his lips and went back to watching Itachi.

What was Iroh Shishou irritated about? Was Sasuke supposed to start a conversation? And if he should, what would he even say? "You seem strangely calm for a psychopath" was as offensive as it was likely that a nearby observer would hear them and call the authorities.

Sasuke was beginning to think that this had been a Very Bad Idea.

Itachi swallowed the last of the dango, uncomfortably aware of how it seemed to stick in his throat and choke him.

This had gone better than he could have ever imagined. He had expected Sasuke to find him and attack him mercilessly until Itachi died. Being invited out for dango was positively surreal.

Itachi ignored the rest of the hunger gnawing at his torso. The stress-related nausea was making the idea of truly eating impossible, even if he could have read the menu and ordered for himself.

He had never truly realized how self-conscious he was of his sight until now. Sasuke and his companion had ordered off the finely-printed menu, and Itachi couldn't even squint to make out the words. Were he alone, he would have been able hold the menu closer to his eyes and make out the characters. But either of those options would have given him away. So he sat in silence.

He hadn't remembered Sasuke ever caring about dango, so it had been a surprise when Sasuke had ordered so much of it. Itachi supposed he should take it for the gesture it was, and not look into it much further. Even extra uneaten dango soothed some of the roiling acid in his belly and gave him the strength to see this through.

Should he ask Sasuke questions? Itachi had always had updates from Jiraiya on Sasuke's academics (always excellent), his social life (nonexistent), and his activities (bordering on the obsessive). But since Sasuke had run off with Orochimaru and subsequently been found by his current companion, Itachi hadn't the faintest of what Sasuke had been doing.

He didn't even know who this man was. It was odd and disquieting that the man had known Itachi had been following them. His chakra system was under-developed, making it obvious that he was not a ninja, and the way he carried himself did not suggest that he was armed.

But the man inspired trepidation in Itachi. He was too canny, too unobtrusive, and worst of all appeared to find Itachi less of a threat than a small spider.

There was something about the man he was missing, Itachi was sure of it. Sasuke would have never followed anyone if there was nothing to gain from the exercise. One could glean from his activities after the massacre that Sasuke had been obsessed with power. For himself, and in others. He would not obey anyone he thought weak.

And yet here he was, eating ramen with a man likely old enough to be their grandfather, chatting about the best kind of tea to drink with sakura-flavored mochi. It was absurd.

The answer was obviously oolong, anyway. Itachi sighed lightly. The shape with Sasuke's chakra signature stood silently and left the teahouse.

"How long have you been losing your sight?" Sasuke's companion questioned quietly, and Itachi steeled himself to avoid outward panic. He kept his lips pressed tight against each other, unwilling to admit the futility of his situation.

The man sighed. "I am sorry, that was incredibly improper of me. We haven't even been introduced."

Itachi wasn't sure that knowing the man's name would really alleviate his trepidation in sharing a debilitating medical condition.

So, good news, everyone!

I'm not dead (yet), I'm just absolutely terrible about letting time slip through my fingers. Or maybe my cat stole it. So here's a new chapter (and I'm sorry it's short, I'm working on this story again but I thought I'd made people wait long enough).

Reviews are always nice, and I've also started a blog on Tumblr. If anyone wants to ask me questions, ask me for short stories or omakes, etc., it's deanofthevillagehiddeninthehills on tumblr. I will eventually figure out all the science necessary to get this right.