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Warning: Spoilers & wild theories abound…
- CHAPTER 2: The Unplanned -
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Genjutsu. Genjitsu. Illusion… Or reality? Then again, the difference was no more trivial than individual enunciation.
If Kakashi-san already took him to be Uzumaki Naruto, a child ignorant of their world's darkest secrets, then what need had he of persuading the man otherwise? That steady gaze had betrayed no surprise at his lack of expression. Concerned? Perhaps. Alarmed? Not quite… Not yet.
So averting his eyes from the village he had betrayed, Itachi began to walk away.
He almost stumbled.
Step shifted into a stride, Itachi regained balance. Recovery was mildly nostalgic—even if such agility was to be expected of a smaller, healthier body. But having ascertained his proprioception during motion, Itachi proceeded with greater deliberation. His next steps were executed slowly, dragged across the room with audible lethargy.
That was, until he came upon the shadowed pile of clothes.
Lifting the orange outfit into his hands with a measured kick, Itachi did not entirely feign an irritated mumble as the shade continued to persist: "'m down in a sec."
He slammed the door before Kakashi-san could scrutinize him further.
.
Sweeping the roadsides with eyes kept as wide as Naruto-kun would have, Itachi could no longer deny it.
He felt nothing.
There was, of course, the initial shock. Itachi had not expected to set sights on this village again after his brother's defection, and certainly not after his… death. In fact, while he still recognized Konoha with its haphazard skyline and self-assured citizens, while he still recognized those and more—there was nothing beyond that recognition.
Was this the village he had decimated his clan for? The entity against which he would rather hate himself? The entity that had awakened his Susanoo?
But the hatred was gone. So had the anger and disgust. Perhaps, that final offering had taken the last of his humanity. It was undeniable that the same torrential emotions at his last homecoming had failed to materialize this time. Truly, Itachi could not say which unsettled him more: the fact that his hometown felt like a stranger to him, or the possibility that Sasuke would feel the same to him as well.
Only another test would tell.
For now, Itachi bid his time. Konoha had not recovered as well as it would like others to believe, as evidenced by the mismatched painting and the uneven roofing he had seen along these lanes. Amateur jobs, those clearly were—and likely the handiwork of Academy students with next to no mimicry training. Civilian craftsmen might have been preoccupied with the more delicate restoration of the village's commercial districts, as seen on their way here. Ninjas, then, could only have been deployed on the more rugged reconstruction of its safeguards. Such work distribution spoke volumes of Konoha's financial and political predicament.
Hence with the body of this village's only jinchuuriki in his possession, Itachi had to weigh the potential impact of his departure. Konoha might have lost his loyalty, but not his logical inclination. It remained, even after Orochimaru's invasion, the heaviest weight in the power balance between the Five Great Nations. He saw little sense in disturbing that balance; only idealists and madmen could find any gain in such efforts.
And then he saw those toads in front of the Hokage Residence—unnaturally large, colored summon toads. The bigger one looked to be Gamabunta, the Toad Boss.
Jiraiya must have completed his reconnaissance of Akatsuki's Ame base, then; Itachi had not anticipated such a swift return. 'Something more important must have came up', indeed.
Eyebrows lifted, he modulated his tone into one of child-like curiosity: "Huh? What're y'all doing here so early in the morning?"
The smaller, orange toad started to reply in obvious hesitation, "Actually…"
"Gamakichi! Keep your trap shut!" Gamabunta quickly cut off the explanation he could have obtained, although it did name one of Naruto-kun's ostensibly acquainted summons in the process. "Let the boss and Tsunade take care of it!"
With Gamakichi silenced, Itachi reattempted his only other source for explanation. "What's that all about?"
"It's not important." Kakashi-san's words remained guarded. "Let's go."
Narrowing his eyes, Itachi silently slid a few shuriken into position between pocketed fingers.
.
"You!"
Itachi retracted his blade. "A reminder. Next time, I will not show such leniency."
Threat removed from his chest, Danzou's exposed Sharingan slowly receded from its active state. "Why have you chosen Tsunade's side? She would never see the necessity of our actions…"
"I have not." Itachi interjected. Sheathing the tantou onto the back of his borrowed Ne uniform, he continued, "I simply found no one else fitting as the jinchuuriki's guardian."
"So you took over the boy's body instead?" Danzou relaxed into his seat. "This certainly simplifies things. Yondaime's legacy had been far too willful."
…But also oddly charismatic. With his loss, Itachi knew he may have no choice but to eliminate Sasuke himself in the future. "My oath was never renewed. Sandaime-sama died without naming a successor."
Straightening those bandages back to their former position, Danzou wisely avoided the temptation to meet his eyes again. "You executed that order, didn't you?"
"It coincided with my interest." Itachi ignored the bait. "Akatsuki is the enemy—that is our basis of agreement." No more, no less.
"Very well." Danzou reached for the drawer, notably keeping his motion in clear view as he took out a thick folder. "This is what we have on Uzumaki. You know the drill."
Although he had no fear of traps in his clone form, Itachi still made a show to touch the papers with only his fingernails first. "It will be returned within the hour."
Danzou gave him a crooked smile. "Ever the careful one. With you in control, I trust Kyuubi will not fall into the wrong hands?"
Itachi's reply was a soundless Shunshin.
.
With each passing second, Itachi saw further dissolution of his preliminary assumptions—all with no noticeable influence on his perception. This unexpected reality might not be an illusion.
"A toad geezer?" Outwardly, he tried to latch onto trivialities that Naruto-kun would make a ruckus over. "The hell?"
Inwardly, Itachi consolidated hints that he had gleaned during the past half-hour. The mood in this room had been somber since his entry; Itachi's first assumption had been that he was exposed as this body's usurper. Further observation and analysis of these people's body language, however, had then led him to suspect that his foolish little brother might have gotten himself killed despite a final bequest of power…
It was not until Itachi identified Gamabunta's "boss" as this beard toad, rather than Jiraiya, that he realized that a more significant variable was about to undermine his current set of possibilities.
"Watch your language, Naruto! This is Fukasaku-sama, one of the two great sages of Myoubokuzan. He's came all this way to speak with you…"
As Tsunade's admonishment abated, Itachi could not help but recall the title she had just introduced earlier: Child of Prophecy. Yes, that might explain the inconsistencies.
"…More importantly, there seems ta be no doubt that yer Jiraiya-chan's apprentice."
After all, Fukasaku—and for that matter, the entire clan of toad summons—should be able to discern he was not Uzumaki Naruto. His own clone had confirmed that their chakra could feel similar, if only by virtue of their shared ties with Kyuubi; but summon contracts drew on ties far deeper than either blood or chakra.
"Jiraiya-chan?" Itachi absentmindedly effected Naruto-kun's exaggerated pitch, even as his mind arrived at the indisputable conclusion: If the toads had not questioned his identity, then there must be something else of greater import at stake to induce this inaction. "Chan? Who the hell are you to talk about ero-sennin like he's some kid?"
"…I said watch your language!"
Granted, forceful as Tsunade might come across, she was never seen as the strongest of Konoha's legendary Sannin. Neither her brute strength nor medical prowess could pose an absolute deterrent for hostile nations. Danzou, too, appeared to have became overconfident from those implants; it may be that a tree's roots were better left buried.
"…Haha, that fits Jiraiya to a T!"
It would seem that 'Uzumaki Naruto' was thus the only name left to discourage Konoha's opponents.
"So what do you ol'ass sage wanna do with me anyway?" Itachi made one last effort at Naruto-kun's visibly scrunched version of an annoyed face; if he was correct, then there would soon be no further need.
If this unplanned reality had stemmed from his own mistake, then it behooved him to rectify matters. Naruto-kun's inexplicable disappearance had only reinforced his folly of relying on another.
"Now, where to begin?" Fukasaku paused, eying him with such consideration as to leave little doubt on the validity of his latest hypothesis. "Well, I guess I'll just tell ya…"
Once again, I am no longer dispensable.
"Jiraiya-chan was killed in battle."
At the Great Toad Sage's announcement, Itachi widened his eyes as far as possible—before letting them relax into habitual blankness.
And once again, I am left with limited options.
Fidgeting as if in indecision while Tsunade's own eyes started to widen at his subtle signals, Itachi finally voiced a seeming confusion in the now deathly silent room:
"Ji…Jiraiya who?"
.
After Tsunade had dismissed everyone, even the ANBU on duty, she turned back to him with a stony face.
"Identify yourself," she hissed ominously. "And just where did you get your filthy hands on Sandaime Hokage's master code?"
A/N: Probably few will like my characterization of Itachi. But it's late, and I'm tired.