Notes: I forgot the disclaimer. Actually, I think it should be understood, given that this is Fanfiction, but fine.
I own nothing that is described here. (Well, maybe a few tiny bits, but not enough that anyone would notice.)
By the way, anything that doesn't make sense historically is obviously made-up. Everything that makes even less sense, please let me know so I can fix it. Also, I am trying to wean myself from using romanji, or Japanese terms written in English.
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The compound spanned an entire street, with a long, high wall that hemmed it in and hid the residential houses from the eyes of curious passers-by. Perhaps it says something about me that, when Haha-ue and I first waited outside the gate to be admitted, I was already planning and judging how one could climb over the wall. And whether or not I could do it.
Inside, the main house opened into a square inner court. This served as a miniature garden and did not impress me after I had visited the slopes on the village outskirts – though by then, Konoha had become a town in the fullest sense of the word. Outside the village was the real world, bright blue sky stretching on into eternity until one reached the mountains in the horizon. Tall, dark trees formed a vanguard on the north side of the village, and another outer wall formed an additional barrier. A river ran through the ground like a lazy snake. Its smaller tributaries passed into the village, one small enough to be forded by a delicate, arching wooden bridge near the village center. The other had a swifter current and was also deep enough for good swimming. Deep enough, I think, to drown in.
But all this was beyond the smaller wall of the enclosure I had entered. All the buildings of the Uchiha Clan radiated outward in orderly, logical fashion from the main house and the side court that was used, as I discovered later, for combat training. Haha-ue had secured us lodging in the main house, so we walked past all the other, smaller wooden edifices, sturdy shapes so dry and stiff that I imagined how a fire licking the corners of the roofs would appear. That might give them all some liveliness.
"You will sleep in this part of the building, in the servants' quarters. I will show you where the beasts are kept." The chief of the servants was Senka, a solemn-faced, tall man who seemed neither thrilled nor particularly displeased by our existence. His attitude towards us reflected that of many of the Uchiha in the days to follow. Haha-ue and I moved into the Uchiha compound with barely a ripple.
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(Five)
The winter struck the village harshly that year. For most of the first month, I had only a vague feeling of misery. Haha-ue had begun to delegate more tasks to me, and each morning it was a struggle to rise, knowing that the cold would burn my hands as I wrung the moisture from hundreds of towels. I was not strong enough to operate the well alone, so each morning Haha-ue would fill two basins that I could carry, one at a time, to the house.
One morning, near the end of the seventh month of our tenancy, my incautious foot struck a stone. My toe curled in pain, but the worst result was that I stumbled, spilling over half of the water in one basin on the chill, barren ground before me.
I set down the basin and wondered what I should do. Haha-ue was already distracted by other chores; these days I was not always sure I knew where to find her. Sweeping my gaze across the small courtyard, I saw a small, moving figure traveling along the covered corridor.
I had to wrestle with my pride, but finally I decided to intercept the stranger, on the off-chance that help would be forthcoming, before the figure disappeared into the house.
He looked up at my approach with deep dark eyes shaded by many fine lashes. I was disappointed to find that he was as small as he'd looked from a distance, perhaps even smaller than I was. (In fact, he had just turned five a few months ago.) That was even before I noticed the large cut on the palm of his right hand. My mind raced; could the two of us use the well?
"I can help you with that," I said, meaning the hand.
"I don't need your help."
I did not feel exactly frustrated, but strangely patient; that could have been why his answer changed. "I have cold water that will take the sting away. There is ointment you can use, strong enough to mend your hand in hours." I was thinking of the comfrey poultice which Haha-ue had used on an unfortunate horse that had cut his foreleg on a walk with his master. I had also said more to the boy than I generally did in half a year to strangers, but this was out of necessity.
Seeing that I wouldn't leave, he nodded his permission at last. My pride smarted, but he acted as if it were an inconvenience to both of us and not a privilege for me, so I bore it.
His surprising strength, added to mine, raised the bucket from the well. After lending his assistance, he walked away without a word. I resolved to grow stronger and never did ask anyone's help with the well again.
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My mother served the Uchiha as a general veterinarian because she had more knowledge than anyone else of treating the maladies of animals. Although I was to be the Mistress of the Hounds, eventually I would succeed her. For this reason, I went with her when she soothed uncommonly high-strung colts and handled smaller matters such as tending to a wounded cat kept by one of the Uchiha as a pet.
Even then, there was little reason for further encounters with Itachi, which I learned was the name of the boy who had helped me at the well. He lived in one part of the main house and I lived in another. Our paths would not cross again with any significant result. Or so I thought.
We did pass each other in the covered corridor that flanked the lesser courtyard where I drew water, although when I did see Itachi on those occasions, we pretended it did not occur – or rather, neither of us bothered with the polite greeting imposed by the adults of the house. Something happened, however, to make me remember that slight, dark-haired boy.
That morning, I was hurrying barefooted over the polished wood of the corridor. Hurrying, with a desperate quietness that matched the wild hammering of my heart. Few were awake at this hour; dawn had not yet broken and no one had reason to be up. It was divine providence for me to have woken, because at a later hour, any senior servant would have detained me on sight. As I was silent, my presence went unnoticed.
Despite my growing worry, I enjoyed the sensation of slipping through the corridors. The air, which was dark and cool, tasted of the freedom of invisibility. I might as well have been a ghost, gliding past the shoji screens of a slumbering household. Unlike a ghost, I did not come to deliver a message or to exact justice from beyond the grave. I came in search of the one creature more comfortable in the dark than I - a white, sightless puppy who had strayed from my side during the night.
He had been the runt of his litter, with the soft white pelt and soot-colored ears of his breed. Two months after its birth, Senka had come to inspect the new additions to the kennels to select those to be trained for the hunt. The blind puppy went to him first, licking Senka's long, wrinkled fingers and wriggling with excitement. A frown appeared on the man's face as he observed the puppy's face.
In the absence of my mother, Senka turned to me. "Is this one two months old?"
"Yes, sir," I mumbled.
"What?"
I nodded. The puppy's littermates were all louder and larger. Two of them fought over a ragged piece of rope, then abandoned it in favor of chasing each other's tail.
Senka got to his feet. "Throw it in the Nakano."
I took the puppy to the small room I shared with Haha-ue and my brother. My mother did not comment, but piled up a soft blanket for bedding and brought in a water dish. We cleaned up the messes with rags when we could. Sometimes the puppy chewed on these scraps of cloth, making it difficult to keep the room in order. For the most part, though, he was well-behaved.
And now he had wandered off into the house.
The corridors were gloomy; sliding masses of shadow and shifting light were my only company. It was very quiet and lonely at this hour. Even if I had named the puppy, I wouldn't have dared to whisper. I passed through silent hallways, head bent for any sign of a white-furred back. There was movement in my line of vision. Feet! I thought, and my gaze swept higher to the pale, clear face that recognized me in the same instant. Itachi and I looked at each other.
It was still too early to sag in relief. Remembering Haha-ue's admonitions, I flicked my eyes to the wooden floor, although at that age Itachi was still shorter than I.
Before I could wonder what he would do, he said – with all the brusqueness that comes with being Uchiha – "Come with me."
He started walking and I padded after him, keeping a distance of two paces between us. We arrived at a room, where he slid open the door and stepped in.
Like the other rooms of the main house, the floor here was hidden by a careful arrangement of tatami mats. Near one corner of the room was a low desk, next to which a pair of sliding doors indicated the presence of an adjoining room or closet. A small hearth indented into the floor gave off a faint reddish glow. I could see that the low table that would have stood above it had been moved to the side nearer the desk. A futon lay over the mats, open and rumpled. And in the corner nearest the doorway sprawled a small lump whose fur shone pinkish-grey in the dim light.
Itachi said nothing as I gathered the puppy into my arms. I would have been glad to leave in silence, too, but my tongue had other thoughts.
"How did he come to your room?" As if it were not obvious that Itachi had guided him there.
"He was in the courtyard." Unconsciously or not, Itachi referred to the puppy as I had: as "he," not "it." "Be more careful. My father would have had him killed." I opened my mouth to thank him. Itachi closed the door, shutting me out of the room.
I was grateful for his help then, but inside, at the same time, I despised Itachi a little.
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