Chapter 8: Lingering Fear

Despite the dilapidated state of the bar, its central location in the Waterfall village brought in a hefty amount of business every day of the week, to the point where the sticky floors could hardly be seen. With his nondescript features, Sukea easily blended in with the crowd of tourists looking to get drunk on a Thursday night.

Two hours had passed and Sukea had only ordered one drink. Whenever he was bored, he would pick up the glass and slosh the yellow-brown liquid in his glass, only to set it back down without taking a sip. When the bartender came around, Sukea would raise the glass to his lips and pretend to take a sip to appease the already irritable man.

The type of people like Sukea were the ones that bartenders despised the most. His presence was bad for business; he wasn't bringing in any money by being the slowest drinker in the bar and he was hogging precious counter space in the process.

The next time the bartender walked by, Sukea took a swig of his drink – a real one this time – and returned the bartender's glare with equal fervor as the alcohol burned down his throat.

Needing his senses to be sharp, Sukea wasn't supposed to be drinking; however, as time slowly crawled to two hours and thirty minutes, he was becoming convinced a little buzz would help time pass by a little faster.

Nearing the three hour mark and Sukea finally on his second drink, much to the bartender's glee, the person in question showed up. Sukea was in the process of taking another swig of his drink when he felt three light taps on his shoulder in quick succession. By the time Sukea glanced over his shoulder, all he saw was the backside of a man slipping into the crowd.

Abandoning his drink on the counter, Sukea stood up and started to follow him. Despite being taller than most of the crowd, the dense crowd and bright flashing lights made it difficult for Sukea to keep him in his sights. After Sukea lost sight of him for the third time, he simply gave up and followed him based on the chakra trail he left behind.

A gust of wind greeted him as Sukea stepped through the backdoor. The metal door emitted a loud creaking noise as Sukea closed it behind him before he joined the man by the dumpsters. His nose wrinkled in distaste as he caught his first whiff of the odor from the trash.

"Took you long enough, Akio."

"Sorry, I was a bit delayed," Akio responded, in a manner that hardly sounded genuine at all. If Sukea was a different man, he would have been mildly offended by his apathy. "Anything interesting going on lately?"

"The turmoil in the Rain village has finally settled," Sukea offered. He stuck his hands into the pockets of his nondescript shinobi pants, leaning against the brick wall for support. "The Akatsuki came out as the victors."

"The Akatsuki?" Akio echoed. "An interesting name."

Sukea merely shrugged. "There's also talk that their activities won't be confined to the Rain village, but I don't know any further details."

Akio nodded. "Have you heard anything about a nukenin by the moniker, Okami?"

"The name sounds familiar."

"Okami recently attacked a Konoha squad. He assassinated the Fire Daimyo. No one knows what he is after, so if you could try to gather some information about him…" Akio trailed off, understanding that Sukea would catch on to his request.

"Sure," Sukea agreed. "I have heard that name thrown around a bit so I'll see if I can find some more concrete details about him. In the meantime, I'll also keep an eye out on the Akatsuki's movements."

"Thanks."

Akio was the first of the pair to leave, undoubtedly heading towards one of the many dead drop locations he established with Jiraiya, one of the great Sannin. After lingering for fifteen minutes, Sukea slipped out of the shadows to clamber onto the rooftop of the bar. Once there, Sukea peeled back his brown wig, freeing his natural silver locks. Reaching into his pocket for a storage scroll, Sukea unraveled it.

He unsealed his Wolf mask, sealing the wig as its replacement. Rolling up the scroll and tucking it back into the inner pocket of his cloak, Kakashi secured the mask over his face. After pulling the hood over his head to cover his hair, Kakashi streaked across the rooftops, once again donning his identity as Okami.

Konoha was looking for him? They wouldn't need to search for long; Kakashi intended to show up soon enough.

Kakashi took a spot next to the open window. The bustling of the street market and the pointless chitchatter all floated to his ears as Kakashi absently took a sip out of his steaming tea cup. While his attention appeared to shift every minute, his real focus remained on the people who walked in.

From his position, Kakashi was afforded the best vantage point to get a glimpse of the face of every customer who walked into the shop. As Kakashi waited for Tenzo to show, his fingers drummed impatiently across the wooden surface. When that didn't cure his itch of finding something to do with his hands, he fished out a book from his weapons pouch. It was a book on the history of Konoha, the kind they gave to tourists, and the kind that contained no useful information. Still, Kakashi allowed his eyes to glaze over the text as he pretended to be engrossed in the contents of the book.

This version of Konoha's history was a far cry from the uncensored version that had been beaten into him when he attended the Academy. It barely scratched the surface of the devastation and agony left in the wake of the Third Great Ninja War.

Kakashi would know. He lived through it.

Kakashi glanced up from his book when he felt a presence join him on the opposite side of the table.

"Do you mind if I sit here?" Tenzo. Kakashi kept his features impassive, giving off the impression they were mere strangers.

"Go ahead," Kakashi responded curtly. "I'm heading out in a few minutes."

Tenzo eyed the cover of his book in faux interest. "Konoha history? Are you a tourist?"

"Just passing through for a short visit. The shopkeeper on Main Street recommended me to come to this tea shop to try their pastries."

"They are most famed for their dango," Tenzo informed him, taking his first bite as if to prove to him how good they were. It was a subtle jab at Kakashi, Tenzo's way of making fun of him for not liking sweets. On the contrary, Tenzo consumed sweets at a rate that exceeded the healthy range.

"Maybe I'll try it next time I pass through," Kakashi murmured before he picked up his tea cup and downed the rest of its contents in one gulp. His eyes flickered to the antique clock hanging on the wall. "Ah, looks like it's time for me to get going. Thank you for your hospitality."

"Wait." Tenzo dug into his weapons pouch, fishing out a small black book among the pile of weapons, paper bombs, and ninja wire. He slid the book across the table to him. "If you enjoy reading Konoha's history, I think you'll enjoy this book too."

Kakashi raised an eyebrow. "Konoha's culture and traditions?"

"Yes, the Spring Festival is coming up in a few months. Maybe if you're around the area, you should come check it out."

Kakashi stood up, the legs of his chair scraping loudly against the wooden floor. As he stuffed the book into his pocket, Kakashi tipped his head as a way of thanking Tenzo for his hospitality. Rounding the table, Kakashi breezed past Tenzo, who had shifted his focus to enjoy his plate of dango. His hand was half-raised to lift the curtain flaps at the doorway when two small figures suddenly barreled into the shop. Kakashi shifted his body to avoid the protruding elbow of the girl, who paid no heed to his existence.

Kakashi craned his head to look over his shoulder and was greeted with the sight of the Uchiha clan symbol stitched on the backside of both of their shirts. He didn't recognize the brown-haired girl, but that was to be expected considering the number of years since he left the village. As if the gray-haired boy sensed that someone was staring at him, he turned around.

Their eyes clashed. Recognition on Kakashi's part, yet only suspicious confusion from Itachi.

Itachi Uchiha. The heir of the Uchiha clan. The same boy that he reduced to a traumatized state on his last mission.

Itachi's eyes widened just a fraction upon making eye contact with him. Not daring to linger – despite his young age, his mind was pretty sharp – Kakashi slipped out onto the Konoha streets.

He may have been disguised as Sukea at the moment, but against an opponent with ocular powers like the Sharingan, his disguise was nothing more than a feeble attempt to inconvenience him.

Lounging in the branches of the tree that overhung the concrete bench located on the cobblestone path of the only way out of the village, his thumb flicked open the corner of the false cover. Discarding the fake book cover to the side, Kakashi flipped it over to see the true title of the book.

Konoha's Bingo Book. The newest edition.

After a quick perusal of the crisp pages, Kakashi's attention was drawn to the earmarked page. Quickly flipping to the page, Kakashi was greeted with the sight of himself – a roughly sketched version – staring back at him.

All things considering, the sketch was pretty accurate. Or at least as accurate it could be, coming from the account of a terrified eight year old boy.

Hmph. Luckily, Kakashi had converted Kakuzu to his side because at the rate he was going, Kakashi wouldn't even hit twenty years old before his name was splattered in every single Bingo Book across the nation.

And that was despite his best efforts to remain low profile.

Snapping the book shut, Kakashi swung his legs off of the branch before deftly landing onto the walkway. His sudden appearance startled a couple who was taking a leisure walk along the scenic path. After tipping his head as his form of apology, Kakashi slipped out of the village.

Even though it had been five hours since the incident, Itachi still couldn't curb the slight tremble of his hand. After Yuki sensei declared their mission failed, the remainder of their team returned to the village with two bodies in tow. They headed straight towards the Hokage Tower, Itachi's head ducked in shame and inadequacy as Yuki sensei reported to the Sandaime regarding their failed mission.

Hiruzen's lips were pressed tightly together at the mention of the mysterious ambusher. Once Yuki sensei finished his account of the events, he pressed a small hand on Itachi's back, gently guiding him to the center of the room.

"Itachi was the only one who engaged the enemy shinobi. He can tell you more."

Could he? As of now, the memories still seemed like a hazy nightmare. The details of the incident weren't clear, painting a fuzzy picture in his mind. If not for the overwhelming fear that weighed down on him, pressing tightly against his chest to make it near impossible for him to breathe, Itachi would have believed it all to be a nightmare.

But he couldn't. It felt too real to be written off.

"I–" Itachi began, but trailed off. Where would he even begin? All of the thoughts that swirled inside of his head were too jumbled, too riddled by his unstable emotions to be properly conveyed to the Hokage. Eventually Itachi gave up any thought of coming up with a semblance of a coherent explanation and settled for a, "I'm sorry."

He refused to meet the Hokage's eyes.

"That's alright, the details of the mission can wait. Why don't all three of you go home and write me a mission report? And Itachi kun, if you could write down everything you remember about the enemy, that would be extremely helpful to us." The Hokage's voice sounded gentle and kind, with no traces of blame or anger in his voice. Yet that only served to amplify Itachi's self-imposed guilt.

Itachi nodded numbly, mechanically following the rest of his teammates out of the Hokage's office. The moment he stepped foot outside, Itachi immediately split from his sensei and Shinko, refusing to give them a chance to speak. If they tried to speak to him, Itachi knew that he would definitely breakdown again so he had chosen the coward's option: escape.

He found solace locked away in his room, ignoring his mother's calls that dinner was ready. Instead, Itachi remained hunched over his desk, gripping a pen so tightly in his hands that it was a miracle that it hadn't snapped yet. The only stream of light in the room came from the lamp, the light shining directly on the paper to reveal exactly how much Itachi had written.

One word: Okami.

When Itachi finally placed the pen to paper to start describing the man's features, his shaky hands resulted in the sentence coming out to be nothing more than an unreadable scrawl. Out of frustration, Itachi balled up the paper and tossed it to join the overflowing wastebasket of all of his other failed attempts.

Just thinking about Okami sent chills down his spine. It was a feeling that Itachi had never experienced before, not even in face of death when the Iwa nin attempted to slaughter him on the battlefield. What was so different about Okami?

So. Many. Things. That Itachi didn't even know where to begin to explain other than his name. Maybe it was how his presence alone could reduce him to feel utterly powerless. Maybe it was the ruthlessness in how Okami ended the Fire Daimyo's life. Maybe it was the dark and solemn promise that their paths would cross again.

Itachi didn't want to meet him again. One time was more than enough for Itachi to truly experience the harsh reality of being a shinobi. The battlefield experience had been nothing in comparison to this.

Even if Okami was frighteningly terrifying, the only thing Itachi could do now for the village – for Tenma – was impart the knowledge of his brief interaction with Okami. To do that, Itachi allowed his mind to dredge up the awful memories. As Itachi examined his memories, frame by frame, all along the way he struggled to fight against the instincts that wanted to shut off those vivid memories, to lock them away forever.

He may have lost the battle against Okami, but Itachi was determined to win this one. To win against the demons that Okami had planted inside of his mind.

Eventually, Itachi found the courage to put pen to paper.

For the entirety of his one page report, Itachi fought hard to keep his hands steady.

Itachi sat on the grassy slope that overlooked the river, with his arms wrapped around his legs as a cool breeze swept through the area. The bottom of his chin rested against the top of his knees as he absently stared at the slow moving water. Despite the harsh glint of the sunlight reflecting off of the water stinging his eyes, Itachi didn't look away.

The pain was good. The pain helped to ease away the numbness, the emptiness that Itachi felt in his chest. Itachi didn't know what he expected after losing a teammate, but apathy wasn't one of them. Even Yuki sensei's, someone who had lost many of his comrades to the Third Great Ninja War, voice quivered at the mention of Tenma's name.

To make matters worse, the incident caused Shinko to withdraw from the shinobi life permanently. Their team had fallen apart in shambles. Officially, Team 2 was temporarily disbanded until the Third Hokage could find a replacement for their team.

But unofficially? None of them would ever be the same.

Itachi wondered what it would be like if he followed Shinko's footsteps. He wondered if living his life as a civilian would be any better. On one hand, Itachi wouldn't have to experience the horrors of being a shinobi, but on the other, he wouldn't be in a position to make any changes.

Contemplating the matter was futile anyways. From the moment he was born as heir of the Uchiha clan, Itachi had no choice but to become a shinobi.

A heavy, restless sigh escaped his lips. Normally, he would have sought out Shisui to challenge him to a spar. He would have fought him until every muscle in his body ached, until exhaustion seeped into every fiber of his being. Unfortunately, Shisui was currently out of the village on a long term mission, so Itachi was left with too much time on his hands.

Too much time to allow his dark thoughts consume him. Itachi buried his face into his arms as a half-hearted attempt to snuff out those thoughts.

It did nothing and Itachi found that he didn't have the energy left to fight it anyways.

Itachi jolted when he felt a presence plop down in the grass next to him. Blinking twice in rapid succession to ease his vision to adjust to the brightness, Itachi turned to stare at the newcomer.

Izumi Uchiha's wide brown eyes were brimming with curiosity. She cocked her head to the side, inspecting him from every angle.

"What are you doing here alone?"

Itachi was at a loss for words. Everyone his age was too scared to approach him; whether due to the air of authority he possessed as the Uchiha heir or from his prowess, he didn't know. But for some reason, other than Shisui, Izumi Uchiha was the only person who willingly approached him.

Even when they met for the first time in passing at the Academy, Izumi shot a wide smile in his direction, so blindly bright and genuine.

Izumi wasn't bothered by his lack of response. Instead she started rambling on about how pretty the riverbank was at this time of the hour, how she had recently passed the graduation exam to become a genin, and all about her new teammates. In the twenty minutes that Izumi rambled on about herself, Itachi learned more about her than he knew about Tenma or Shinko.

Then again, Itachi never bothered to put any effort towards getting to know his teammates. Now that Tenma was gone, Itachi wondered if he regretted it.

"You've been genin for a while now, haven't you? Have you been on any cool missions?"

Itachi's mind instantly flashed back to that dreadful mission, the one where everything went horribly wrong. However, unlike the other times, instead of wishing for the unwanted memories to go away, Itachi felt compelled to tell someone about it.

His eyes flickered hesitantly to meet Izumi's. "Are you willing to listen?"

"Of course," Izumi responded with the same level of enthusiasm as when she first sat down besides him. "If something is troubling you, you shouldn't keep it bottled up inside. There might not be anything I can do for you, but at least I can listen."

The dam broke. The words came rushing out of his mouth in such a jumbled mess that Itachi was surprised that Izumi was still following along. His recount of the mission jumped around, delivered in no particular order. At some points, Itachi even faltered on how to finish a thought, decided it wasn't important, and proceeded to retell another part of the tale. All throughout, Izumi didn't interrupt him. She merely nodded along in the right intervals to everything he was saying.

By the time Itachi was finished, it felt like a heavy weight was lifted off of his chest. Maybe the relief would only be temporary, but even so, Itachi relished in it. For the first time this week, Itachi felt like he could breathe again.

"I'm sorry," Izumi murmured quietly. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

His instinct was to shake his head no and then tell her that he wanted some time alone but stopped short of doing so. If Itachi wanted to see Shisui so badly so that his older cousin could spar with him as a form of distraction, then why couldn't Izumi do the same?

"Can you keep talking?" Itachi whispered. "To distract me?"

Izumi perked up at his request. "Do you like sweets?"

"Yes," Itachi answered, despite being caught off guard by her sudden question. "Why?"

"There's a tea shop nearby. They serve the best dango; I think you'll really like it." Izumi stood up, brushing aside the stray stalks of grass that clung to her shinobi pants. Izumi extended her hand outward to Itachi.

"I tried it last time and it was so good. I have been meaning to go back lately. Would you want to try it?"

Itachi stared at her outstretched hand for a few moments before he reluctantly placed his hand in hers. Was this what it felt like to let people in? If so, then Itachi found that he quite liked the feeling of friendship as her warm, smaller hand wrapped around his, melting away all of the iciness in his heart.

For the first time since that dreadful mission, Itachi felt the corners of his lips twitch as Izumi dragged him towards the tea shop. Her joyful laughter rang in his ears, eliciting a warm, fuzzy feeling in his chest.

The numbness faded away. The empty feeling was gone.

In her giddiness to show Itachi her favorite tea shop, Izumi didn't notice a hand lifting the curtain flap. Itachi opened his mouth to warn her that someone was exiting the shop, yet before he could, Izumi barrelled into the shop with him in tow. The sudden jerk of momentum almost caused Itachi to lose his footing. Quickly regaining his balance, Itachi allowed Izumi to pull him all the way to the counter before he stopped.

Itachi turned around, hoping that the man was still there so he could silently apologize for their hastiness. Only when his dark eyes met the stranger's stormy gray eyes, Itachi froze. An icy feeling shot through his veins. Chills crept up along the length of his spine before crawling all over his arms. Itachi's eyes widened as the familiar feeling of helplessness washed over him, his mind urging himself to move before something happened.

Nothing happened. Two seconds later, the man left the shop. Itachi was left gasping for air. Besides him, Izumi was saying something yet the sound of his rapidly thumping heart drowned out her words.

It wasn't until Izumi waved a hand in front of his face did Itachi snap out of his stupor.

"Hey, were you listening to anything I was saying?"

"Sorry, I was a bit distracted."

Izumi took his apology in stride and started to repeat herself, introducing her favorite items on the menu and offering some critiques from others who tried their delicacies before. Itachi half-heartedly nodded in the appropriate intervals. It wasn't because of a lack of effort that Itachi wasn't listening, but rather his mind seemed intent on drifting back to that stranger.

Why did Itachi react that way? Who was he?

The stranger had been dressed head to toe in complete civilian garb, with even a camera dangling from his neck. Everything from his clothing to his body language screamed that the man was nothing more than a civilian.

Yet even after consuming the best dango in his life, Itachi couldn't shake away the niggling feeling that man wasn't as simple as he seemed.

A/N: Hi again!

Very shortly after his encounter with Kakashi, Itachi gets to meet up again - he has such good luck lol. Anyways, I hope you enjoy the chapter and thank you for reading. Until next time!

-MM