November 14, 4 AK

I hit the training post hard enough that the slightly grimy wood creaked, leaving a bloody imprint of my knuckles behind to further encrust the aged log.

'Average, maybe a bit better.'

The fucking Chunin instructor, just casually consigning me to death, to a faceless grave, forgotten before I had even made a proper name for myself, as if Sasuke would care about some random second cousin once removed, as if Itachi and Obito would even know my fucking face. Just another name on the memorial or whatever they decided to put up to commemorate the fall of the Uchiha. Spat upon by the village most likely, the little kanji scratchings covered by moss and dust and faded to nothing in a decade, at best.

All because some noname academy teacher thought I wasn't impressive enough?!

FUCK THAT.

I wouldn't let some nobody, some cannon fodder, some dropout no-talent hack tell me to calmly accept death because I was 'still growing'. I didn't have time to grow, I needed to be strong now!

A rush of chakra to my fist sent cracks through the log, a few flakes of old effort fluttering off in a tepid greyish cloud.

Cracks. Just cracks. Not shattering it into a thousand tiny pieces, not making it explode in a puff of dust, not… not good enough. Not good enough to live.

I sank to my knees and began to shake with silent, panicked sobs. My chest heaved but no sound escaped as tears dropped from my face onto the hard packed earth of the training field, moisture briefly darkening the dusty brown earth before fading away into nothing, just like I would.

A soft sound from behind me, a shinobi being polite. I stood, not quite as fluidly as I would have liked, and wiped at my eyes before turning to greet the interloper.

My breath caught in my throat, my blood turned to ice, and I froze in utter terror.

Itachi.

The cold hand of inevitable fate settled around my shoulders like a cloak and its silken voice whispered sweetly in my ear as I lost myself in the depths of midnight held in his gaze.

Look, here he is, your death incarnate. Will it be quick? A stiletto through the eye, a yanking snap of the neck, and then fade to black? Will it be slow? A sword across the gut, your organs on display, so you can watch your insides fall out and scream your last breath, trying to clutch your intestines in with the scent of shit filling your nose? Will it hurt? A long, slow bleed, out in the forest as you crawl away like an animal? Will it HURT?

My eyes burned and everything became so clear.

My executioner raised an elegant eyebrow, face set in a polite and expressionless mask of nobility.

"I had not heard that you had awakened your Sharingan, Hiroki-san."

I smiled mechanically, jerkily, and nodded my head.

He must not know, He must not see, I must not fear, fear is the mindkiller-

"It was very recent Itachi-sama."

His brows pinched infinitesimally at the honorific and I visibly flinched, breath growing slightly more rapid. His expression smoothed once more to placid unreadability and I had to fight the urge to begin scratching at my hands from nerves.

My eyes stopped burning and clarity left the world as I forced down the instinctive threat response sending chakra to my eyes. I forced a modest laugh, bandaged and bloody hand rubbing the back of my head in feigned embarrassment as I scuffed at the ground with a black sandaled foot.

"Sorry, I only meant- that is- you startled me."

He hummed in acknowledgment and cocked his head ever so slightly. Stupid, stupid, stupid, can't act like a normal to literally save your life-

"I startled you bad enough to awaken your Sharingan?"

I froze again, like every little white rabbit that ever tried to hide from the hawk, please don't look here, look somewhere else, there's nothing here, I am nothing, I want to live, please, please, please-

"I- I didn't mean, you're just, uh, my Idol, Itachi-sama. You're so strong, you- you're just- better."

I clamped onto my wrist with an abnormally steady hand to stop it twitching and desperately tried to keep my gaze steady, but unable to stop it from darting anywhere but on Itachi, searching for escape routes. There was no escape, there was never any escape, I was too weak, too pathetic, too slow, too dumb-

"I have always held you as the epitome of what it means to be a shinobi of the Leaf; I have been trying to match your achievements, but I fear that I lack your natural aptitude."

Because I wasn't born with some bullshit reincarnation destiny, and you were, and you're going to kill me because I didn't win the fucking lottery-

"I was somewhat… discomfited by my mid-semester performance evaluation at the academy however; it seems likely I will not be able to graduate in only a year. Then seeing you… I apologize most sincerely."

I knelt my head into a steep bow and my whole body clenched to avoid trembling. Would he buy it? Would he see through the half-truth? Would he just decide to get this one out of the way early, a quick stab to the base of the skull, unfortunate training accident, so sad, prime of his life, oh well, move along-

Sandaled feet appeared before me, long shadow consuming the multitude of fine variations in color as it spread across the ground.

I couldn't breathe around the tightness in my throat, and my eyes began to swim once more with tears, it wasn't fair, why did I have to die, I workedso hard-

"I am sorry to hear that. I have seen how much effort you put into training. I am sure you will do the clan proud."

My head jerked from side to side in negative, motion stiff and forced, he would see through it, he would know, say something,say something-

"The clan can take care of itself. My first duty is to the village."

Silence. Just like everything Itachi did, he was completely devoid of presence whenever he didn't want to be noticed. He was a ghost, no more substance than a mirage, and just as cruel to travelers in the desert. I couldn't even hear him breathing, and the only sound in the training field was the faintest rustle of wind in the trees and the pounding of my heart in my ears.

"...Indeed."

And the feet turned away, the shadow retreated, the hawk flew on, behold: the rabbit lives for another day.

The gentle padding of Itachi's retreat filled me with such palpable relief that I nearly threw up, falling to my knees as my legs turned to rubber in the shuddering wake of adrenalin. I held it in, swallowing the bile back down and only straightening after I had finally caught up to my racing breath, the restrained trembling back full force as my fingers twitched spasmodically as they clawed at the dark soil of the training ground.

When at last I was able to stand straight I turned back to the post and set to with an energy renewed by the burning throb of panic in my skull, the desperate beat of the fleeing rabbit's tread mirrored in the hammering of my frenzied heart.

I will not die. I must be strong.

. . .

The sunset that night was beautiful, and the leaves of the trees became fire as the lingering yellow rays of light streamed through them. Fear of Death is the Spice of Life. Who knew?

. . .

A/N: Just because a thing happened once does not mean it will happen again. One reincarnation is no gauarantee of another.