I do not own Naruto.


Chapter 13


Naruto stood at the foot of two medical cots. He squinted, thinking of what to do with the brothers resting on them. Their backs were to each other. They only addressed the other when attempting restoration of the minds of the skeletal Anbu.

Other than that, they would eat in silence and sleep for an hour in a private room within the medical unit. They kept it up for a week. Chakras low and in foul moods, the melancholy men sure made for great company. Ino yelled at them to take a nap earlier.

Just looking at them made Naruto tired.

He sighed. "This mission really turned into a disaster. We've eased some of the aging process, but the guys aren't…they're having trouble separating the illusions from reality."

"The mind is a complex labyrinth," Itachi said. "Those men will never be the same again. Death would have been a mercy for the last three."

Sasuke tsked.

Naruto frowned. "I'll hold out hope they'll be restored, with your help of course. You're the best chance they have, Itachi. Your Eternal Mangekyou is amazing. You've already guided Inara out of his coma…maybe with time…"

Sitting up, Sasuke met the Nanadaime's blue gaze. "Disrupting a genjutsu as invasive as the Mock-Eternal Tsukuyomi will have lasting effects." His hands tightened into fists. "I had no choice. It was either break their illusions or take my time and let the last men turn to dust."

"I know," Naruto acknowledged. "You did what you could. I'm glad you got everyone out, Sasuke."

They looked at Itachi's prone form. He seemed content with staring at the concrete wall.

"I've been thinking," Naruto started with some cheer, "No—the council members and I have come up with a solution. Itachi, how would you like to go on a mission?"

"Only if I am to go alone," he responded.

Sasuke glared at him. "I will go with you!"

"Then I refuse."

"And let a thief make off with the sharingan?" No one wanted that.

Itachi sat up, turning slowly to meet his brother's ire with equal fervor. "Tell me, little brother, what harm was being done? The victims were willing clients. Because of a clan's pride, you and a group of men infiltrated the underground and nearly perished."

"Thirty-six days," Sasuke sternly reminded. "And it was backlash from—"

Unenthused, Naruto watched the brothers argue—well, he was pretty sure that's what it was. They were quite calm on the exterior. You'd have to know them to realize they were pissed. Ino was the unwilling recipient of knowing the Uchiha brothers (and many others) too intricately—and she had lost it earlier.

"I agree with Itachi on this," Naruto interjected. Before Sasuke could cut in, he added, "Konoha will offer a pardon in return."

"That's—" Sasuke was bewildered, "Naruto, really?"

Grinning widely, Naruto proclaimed, "Really. Long story short, this summer we've been getting formal letters from the clans on why Itachi's sentence should be expunged. The execution of this retrieval mission was just the thing I could use to for leverage. What do you say, Itachi?"

The man remained silent a moment too long for Sasuke's liking.

"Don't tell me," Sasuke growled, "you're thinking of refusing because you'll be getting your freedom." The accusation alarmed the Nanadaime.

Itachi said nothing.

Without another word, Sasuke got up and left.


Ordered to rest, Itachi returned to the property for the night. A decision was required by dawn. Or another platoon would be deployed by the week's end, with Sasuke. The squad would consist only of Yamanaka. The elite within their clan. It would be prudent to leave sooner, but the aged men required observation by those same elite shinobi.

The northern red wood had replaced their comrades with half men.

Itachi entered his quarters and looked through a chest of drawers. It possessed articles of clothing. At the bottom, however, the carrier bag Kabuto bestowed him was obscured.

He was sure of what his answer would be to the Nanadaime, so he began to pack. He stared at the kunai Sasuke had given him.

On principle alone, Itachi was skeptical. Freedom. How had it been negotiated to be offered so carelessly? Having now studied the Mock-Tsukuyomi, it was possible that Sasuke and the elite Yamanaka could incapacitate the thief themselves. Though the cost may well be grave.

It was treacherous for non-sharingan users. Even Sasuke had lost time. Thirty-six days. Itachi's grip on the kunai tightened.

His brother did not understand. He could not.

Whose sharingan was capable of such an anomaly? Many awakened their kekkei genkai in the clan. Yet aside from himself and Fugaku, who had possessed such powerful eyes? Shisui's had been destroyed. There was Uchiha Kagami, but his eyes had long since been—

A light knock rapped at the entrance. He knew it was Kanna. Closing his eyes, frustration began to rise. He had tempered thoughts of her to avoid unnecessary prying, but their last parting had been unpleasant. At night it was never far from his mind.

But she came.

The shoji door was left open. She stood just outside the sliding threshold. Any hope of reconciliation vacated when he noted her expression.

"Where were you?" she demanded, holding a closed scroll. "Well?" she pressed when he did not immediately reply.

His eyes softened at the endeavored firmness. He stayed where he was, several feet away in the living space.

"I was called away," he said and took in her image. One week. Her hair was tied into two knots, a few hairs out of place. Her clothes were light and casual. She was winded.

She had run there.

Her hands twisted around the scroll. "Why?"

Getting no explanation, Kanna was put out, expression scowling. She did not enter.

"Maybe," she said, keeping a stern-like demeanor, "I should take another job—I've been thinking about it for a while. Some space will be good, it'll help—yeah," she said to herself, unconvinced as she began to pace the engawa, "I should go. I don't know why I came here. I can't think straight around you." She stopped and said with more purpose at his direction, "I'm going to ask for a reassignment."

Was the scroll she held an application? It was decided then. He was not fooled by the hesitant spectacle.

He dismissed her for a moment, contemplating the ways in which he could conserve her. As an alternative to freedom, in exchange for the thief, perhaps he could request Kanna's permanent guardianship. No. Then she would be the prisoner. He considered her. That would be unjust.

There was another solution where she could reside with him—his eyes narrowed. That would not work. She would become further confused—

"Will you talk to me!"

It was likely she would visit with her friends. That was adequate. There was no need to further speculate.

She cried, weary of his indifference, "I'll never come back!"

She was trying to force his hand.

Itachi's expression darkened. "Where do you think you could go where I will not find you?"

Kanna was alarmed. "What?"

He focused his attention past her, toward the harvested, empty garden outside. How irritating. He had not asked for revival. He had not aspired to a reforged connection with his brother. He certainly had not requested the devoted services of a young woman. But all had been given to him—and now they were his. Yet neither she nor Sasuke accommodated him as he preferred.

"You will come to me," he stated.

The growing dark mood unsettled her, but she had come with a purpose. "For what? So I can water your garden?"

"Yes," he nearly hissed.

"You can't…you can't do that. That's so selfish." Her eyes misted over.

He took a calming breath. "Yet you return, without fail."

She fiddled with the scroll. "I won't always."

He disliked the trajectory of the conversation and craved its end.

She stared at the wooden floor for a long time, gathering her courage to form another set of words that would bitter his mood. He knew his language was often to the point and could displease others. He warned her from the beginning, yet she pushed every boundary. She pushed him.

Simply, she peered up at him. "You wouldn't mind if I fell in love with someone else?"

"What?"

Her expression was one of prolonged sorrow. "I know…that one day I'll have to move on. You would be okay with that?"

He pictured that foul mouthed Anbu. Anger swelled and pulled at his cool temperament until it snapped.

Itachi took a step over the threshold and grabbed her face with thinning control. His gaze fell to her lips. They were lightly puckered as the tips of his fingers pushed into her cheeks.

He leaned in close. "Are you threatening me?"

Kanna's gaze whirled with confusion, holding on to his wrists. "Huh? I'm not! One day," her bravery wavered as his ire ominously grew at her every word, "someone will come. I won't—I won't always turn men away!"

Was she so popular? His fingers twitched.

"Stop it!" she said, trying to get away but he wrapped his other arm around her waist.

"You are provoking me."

She was insulted. "You're not making sense. That doesn't make sense! If you don't want me, someone else will. Maybe not now, of course, but in the future—"

His fingers contracted against her cheeks and brought her to him. He kissed her deeply, famished. Her flesh against his never failed to rouse him.

The kunoichi came for a fight—even monks had their limits. Was she always this way? No. He had led her to this.

She tried to say his name, but he swallowed her words. Her breath staggered.

"Kanna," he whispered, frustration melting into desire. His hand ran under her jaw and slanted her head to the side. His other arm wound tighter around her back.

If he could consume her, he would.

"I-Ita—"

"Stop speaking."

She whimpered as he held her too fast. Her hands were trapped between them.

"Shall I show you where this will lead," his lips grazed her ear and her body gave a hard shiver, "and where it will end? You are not a child anymore."

Her right hand managed to free itself and struck his face with a sharp tap. It caused his brow to knit.

"Stop. You're being mean," she admonished, stuck in his embrace. "And you're not listening. I don't want to talk to you when you're like this."

He released her so suddenly she had to catch her footing lest she fall. He turned to walk off, exceedingly ready to depart from her presence.

But then he twisted to ominously address her, "I told you I had nothing, but you persisted!"

Her eyes widened, stunned into silence at his tone. It was she who had not listened to him. From the very beginning.

"I have been offered my freedom," he conceded, further amazing her, "You do not have to be the one that makes a decision."

Her brow marred with more confusion.

"It does not matter if you come or go, because I will not be here." He would leave the village.

And never come back.


Itachi lingered outside Sasuke's house. He had flared chakra an hour before. The cicadas buzzed. Again, he tried. It was feasible his brother wanted little to do with him, but he bid his time.

Sasuke stepped next to him, a shadow in the night. "Usagi was crying."

Itachi was unbothered. "I will go."

Sasuke was cautious on the topic. "What's changed your mind?"

Itachi peered toward his brother's simple home, occupied with children and a devoted wife. "Is my freedom not enough of a reason?"

"It could be," Sasuke admitted. "But it was not before."

He would never lie to his brother again. "I will leave the village."

Sasuke opted for a moment of silence before speaking. "Are you sure?"

"It must be done."

"I don't doubt it." It was spoken sarcastically. He was still upset. "Wasn't it you who said shouldering everything by yourself was foolish?" It had been his downfall.

Itachi stoically met his gaze. "This is not a war."

"At least take one abled body man. Even I—!" Sasuke tsked and strode up the stairs to the front door. "Come inside. It's late. We'll talk about this tomorrow morning."

It was a comfort to Itachi that Sasuke was in better spirits. Returning to his young family restored his mood—for the most part. Both brothers were sullen by nature and neither made it easy for the other in times of conflict.

Sasuke opened the door, expectant. "The girls will be happy to see you at breakfast. They'll want to say goodbye. We'll give you a proper send off."

Itachi lingered for a moment.

Sasuke considered him and noted the red mark on his face. "Are you alright?"

Itachi found it difficult to respond, but he tried. "Tomorrow," he settled for. His brother nodded and motioned him inside.


The Red Wood was a five-hundred-mile-long forest of colossal trees. Their heights ranged from three hundred to four hundred feet. The woodland itself lined the border between Kuni and three major countries to the north. Many battles had been won there, and many lost.

Haunted, it was claimed to be.

Itachi cared little for frivolous superstitions, but it was here Sasuke and his team had been mystified. The aged, malnourished Anbu came to mind as he walked the forest floor. During the rapid aging process, the body struggled to maintain nutrients and essentially ate itself until the illusion broke.

Purple irises and white alders grew wildly atop grassy areas and the bases of tree trunks. A jackrabbit sat paralyzed several yards away. Itachi imperceptibly threw a senbon to its temple and its spinning red eyes glazed over.

He was close then.

Night was falling. Sasuke had opened a portal with clear instructions: retrieve and depart. It was likely the Illusionist was no longer a cognizant being. A mindless zombie to the power of the sharingan, his brother divulged. The man had stumbled upon a lost, devastating power. His life would be forfeited the moment the sharingan was removed. In his endeavor to profit from it, the power had devastated him.

Or perhaps the thief had tried, and failed, to use it on himself.

Upon initial retrieval, the thief's commerce in the underworld had gone awry and the moguls cut him off. It ended poorly. Their headquarters had been discovered with clothes atop piles of human ashes. The few survivors were withered seniors unsure of where, and who, they were.

Itachi paused, noticing a tunic surrounded by human dust. Beside the remains was a log wagon, an axe imbedded into one of them. How unfortunate. It explained the two loose oxen.

The thief had truly lost control, or he was a sadistic being. Yet, to produce illusions that brought bliss was not a cruel enterprise. Foolish, but not cruel. Itachi thought of the last war's aim.


It was not until after nightfall that Itachi realized Kanna followed him. She dove through the portal. For a moment he was frozen in place, eyes widening, in near disbelief at noticing the patterns that usually alerted him to her during their training sessions. When was the last time he felt such sudden, cold dread?

He leapt to an enormous aerial root. Despite her successful length of obscurity from the sharingan, it was no time for praise. Kanna gasped as he seized her shoulders. The rough handling forced her visibility.

"What are you doing here," he commanded on the cusp of harshness. It was impossible that she had been sent. The task was too hazardous. The Hokage would never allow a chunin to be endangered like this. Not as the current laws were.

"You…you ran away," she said breathlessly, his proximity affecting her. "I want to apologize, too—please come home!"

"You've put yourself at risk!"

"Wh-what do you mean?" She wore civilian clothing and was weaponless. "I can just explain to Hokage-sama what happened."

His hands gripped her shoulders and moved her against the tree, pressing her back into it. A fidgety bird flew overhead.

"Hide us," he instructed.

She glanced around. "Is there—"

"Hide us!" He wanted to shake her until she grew some sense where he was concerned.

She startled at his volume but obeyed, grabbing his sides and disappearing. The sharingan looked amazing as it zapped from one corner to the other, assessing their surroundings. The Ghost Technique made his eyes wispy, and they spun more than usual. She leaned her face into his sternum. Ignoring how stiff he was, she hugged him tighter. It made the jutsu easier this way.

And he smelled nice.

The jutsu released when he stepped away from her.

"You!" He huffed. He jumped on the ground and began to scan the area. "You shouldn't have come."

She'd never seen him so restless. What was the matter? She hopped down beside him. Her chin tilted downward, frowning. "I'm bringing you back home."

"What?" he said darkly, and she tempered the urge to gulp as his ferocious red eyes landed on her.

"You can't leave the village," she said with less conviction than she had started with. But she tried, "It's your home. Everyone will miss you. I was going to send Biscuit to the village once you settled somewhere," why was he looking at her like that? "…so...Naruto-sama could…."

"Kanna," he said her name slowly, lethally. "You eavesdropped too little again. I am on a mission."

Her eyes widened. "But you said—"

"You are in danger!"

"Stop shouting at me," she softly rebutted.

He stepped into her space. "If you live through this, that is the least of what I will do to you."

Her face reddened so fast she had whiplash. Steam nearly rose out of her head, and she had to plant her hands flat on his chest to stop him from enclosing in on her.

And the heat rose around them. It was that easy.

"Itachi," she whispered, shocked at the changing atmosphere. His presence was consuming her.

He was bending down, mouth tilting over hers—he had just been chastising her! Threatening her! Her mind skidded into blankness when their lips touched. She sighed, relieved that he didn't hate her.

His forehead touched hers. When their gazes met, she gave him a wry smile.

"We must leave," he said, calmer. He grabbed her hand. "Come."

"What is your mission?" she asked as she trailed behind him. He was holding her hand. She would have swooned if the shinobi part of her wasn't on high alert.

"Kill on sight."

She thickly swallowed. It was one of those missions. "Wh-who?"

"The Illusionist."

She messed up. Partially eavesdropping and getting half stories finally caught up to her. "I'm sorry," she whispered. The Illusionist mission had injured a group of Anbu—that was all she knew. Kita had been on that mission and Soota had been very concerned for his friend but couldn't explain why.

Itachi glanced back with a red gaze. That weird eagle flew over them again, this time shrieking a high-pitched note. It echoed around them.

"You are in danger." He had to go and repeat that.

But she was in danger. And she was afraid. Her hand held his tighter and he picked up the pace. And then he was scooping her up in his arms and running faster than she had ever been carried.

She hooked an elbow under his arm and over his shoulder. Her other arm wound around his neck. He securely held her behind the knees and upper back. The momentum fastened her to him. Her hair whipped at her face, hardly falling to gravity when he would land, only to leap and speed forward again.

A lot more birds appeared overhead. Some she recognized were Itachi's and others weren't. They collided in a violent clash of feathers and screeching.

"Hide us and close your eyes," he said under his breath, and she obeyed.


"I'm tired," she whispered after thirty minutes of fleeing. She overused the jutsu.

"Endure a little more," he said, speed undaunted.

She nodded against his collar. How could he keep this pace for so long? A hum of warning pricked beneath her skin.

Sometime later they skidded to a stop in the middle of a dusty road. She had to release the jutsu or she would faint, and then she really would be useless. They appeared in the flesh.

Itachi gazed at her, sweat moistening his neck and collar. "Are you alright?"

Last night she had followed him to Sasuke-san's home and misread the conversation. They had been discussing a mission, not Itachi's permanent departure. When she had snuck onto the property today, witnessing Sasuke open a portal and Itachi with a bag slung over his shoulder—what was she supposed to have thought? Itachi had threatened to leave her. Though she had been the one to foolishly start it...

"I'm sorry," she whispered, truly apologetic.

He shook his head. "There is no point in dwelling on it. I will return you safely."

She hugged him, moved by his easy forgiveness. "You're still leaving afterward, aren't you?"

The way he looked at her made her feel like the background was no more. He was the most beautiful man she ever knew. And the most tormented. Yet he could make her feel like this.

He said, "If you knew the entirety of what I've done, you would not look as you do."

"How do I look?" she asked affectionately.

"Bereaved." He leaned in close to kiss her again. He surprised her each time he did such a thing.

Her heart ached for him. "That's how you look, silly." She was sure the last thing he wanted to do was be away from his family.

He smiled at the moniker, their noses bumping. She was amazed at how physical he could be, out on the field, amid a dangerous mission. For so long he had been a serious, quiet man. He was evenhanded in every conversation and task. He mixed honesty with bluntness that could scathe any ego.

But the…the partiality he showed to Kanna was stunning. Instead of stifling her, its uniqueness made her love grow.

The night they first kissed cracked the dam of propriety between them. Was he this kind of person? One who touched his loved ones, like Daiki? She thought of how he was with his nieces and Hiroyuki.

Is that why he wanted to go? He said he could not control himself. That he was not strong enough. She wished she had understood it sooner.

Her blush deepened when he began to walk, without putting her down. Her fingers curled around the collar of his cloak. "Are we in the clear?" she said.

His red eyes glanced at her. "It would seem."

"Maybe…put me down?" Or not. At this point in their dynamic, she'd likely do anything he asked. She really messed up this time. Wordlessly he set her on her feet.

She examined him. "Are you tired?"

Itachi shook his head. "You must be. We will rest. Come."

They found a hollowed out, fallen red wood. Kanna owlishly took in the massive structure. It was incredible. Itachi followed closely behind as they climbed into the tree.

She'd never gone so far from the village. By the time she was of age, she wanted to do administrative home-bound missions. Once, a council member volunteered her expertise for a faraway S-class mission. She could only count two instances where she'd seen her father livid, and that was one of them.

Her overseeing jonin, Sasuke-san at the time, calmly reminded the panel that she was only a chunin and such things were impossible to ask. He had then volunteered to go in her place.

And while he was gone, Itachi appeared.


"Kanna, rest," he said after she finished a ration pill.

He prepared his sleep roll for her and sat beside it. His cloak sprawled around him, the wind of it causing her hair to flounce away from her face.

"Rest," he said again.

She lay on her side and observed him. He was going to leave.

Without her even admitting her feelings for him, Itachi first rejected her after Ryuba's visit. She agreed to Satomi's subterfuge then. She wanted to understand Itachi's bizarre statements about himself.

After the macabre discovery of the Uchiha massacre, the siblings promised each other they would never speak a word of it. Satomi had been shocked for days and feigned sickness, unable to stomach visiting the Uchiha district for a time. Kanna had been beside herself too, unable to fathom that the peculiar man she loved had been turned into a monster.

But he had sent crows. Many, in fact, wanting to apologize, beckoning her to him with every summon. When she finally relented, he said he needed a friend and only that.

She loved him, so it was not very difficult returning to him and hearing his apology for being so crass. And then he had evolved before her very eyes. Gentler, more attentive, physical—

Kanna closed her eyes. Having nothing else, he thanked her with a kiss on the forest floor. It was then that she had realized he loved her too.

It was okay that he wanted to leave the village. She would be sad—devastated. But he was a man worthy to be catered to. Every whim and fancy that struck him deserved to be fulfilled—as he had done unspeakable atrocities for the objective good of a country.

Her father had a sharingan once. If a coup had happened, he would have been one of the first targeted.

It was only right she did not press Itachi. After all, who was she? A mere girl, a low-class shinobi, unable to hold a candle to her little brothers. She was an errand runner—administratively savvy and that was all.

Yet she blindly ran after him, even when he pushed her away. Although he was bitterly jaded, wound tight by a most turbulent past, he was also the most beautiful soul she ever met.

"Why don't you just try?" she dared to say, brave in the darkness. "Being with me." Her fingers brushed the edges of his cloak. "I'll be understanding, no matter what."

He released a gentle breath. It was his version of a sigh. She glimpsed a wisp of cold air as he spoke, "It is not as if I do not desire you."

"Itachi…" At times he could say such beautiful things.

"What will you do if you have me?"

"I'll love you." She said it. She said it!

"Think long term."

She frowned. "That is long term."

"Shall we marry in your future?"

Her face warmed. "W-w-well, yes. Eventually."

"Do you want children?"

And she knew, then, where he was getting at. She turned away from him, defeated. With a forlorn whisper, she said, "Yes."

"Is it a great desire for you to be a mother?" He was asking but he already knew the answer to that. The way she was with her brothers and all the little children was enough of a response.

"More than anything." She lost.

"I will not give them to you. Even if you beg me. Even if you trick me."

Why did he have to say it like that? His form of honesty felt like a blade to the heart.

She tried everything not to cry—told herself every comfort she could think of, but a quiet sob escaped her.

If a man said no, then a woman should take it at face value. She should believe him. His gazes and kisses may have all indicated he wanted to be with her, but his words were clear. A no was a no. He did not want a future together. They weren't meant to be.

But why, oh why, did every part of her want to argue against it until she had nothing left? She thought of every moment shared, private and with others. Didn't he see how perfect they were?

She had to admit it. Children—even she could not fathom how in the world they were supposed to explain what had happened all those years ago. What a terrible day that would be.

She mourned for him too, because more than her, it was clear to see how he adored children.

"Kanna." She felt him touch her shoulder as her sobs continued.

"Don't confuse me!" she cried, and her demure voice echoed through the hollow tree.

A wave of anger unlike anything she'd ever felt overcame her. He was still beholden to the sacrifice from decades ago. No matter what path he chose to live—he would always be sacrificing something. Children, no children. Leaving the village as a freeman, but abandoning his family, or staying as a freeman, yet doomed to see ghosts at every corner.

No matter what—he would never be absolved. He would always be a prisoner.

Itachi removed his hand.

"No, I'm sorry!" she softly called, sitting up. She shuffled on her knees until she was before him in the darkness.

"Don't do that—" he began to say, but he put up no fight when she tenderly placed her mouth on his.

She kissed him with all the love that had slowly, and irrevocably, blossomed between them. It was inexperienced and weepy—but it was all for him. Her arms wound around his neck—like all the films and all the books. Like every greeting she ever mustered in her fantastic imagination.

Whatever path they took, she would always remember him. He would forever be in her prayers and in her heart. She promised herself she would stand up for him if she ever heard a word poorly spoken.

And she hoped, with a mighty courage, that he would one day come back to her.


Itachi dragged his hands up her sides. By default, her shirt rose. He felt smooth skin beneath his fingers. He leaned into her smaller frame, his knees pointing away to bring her closer. She was—she was so soft. Any way he moved her she submitted. His arms wound around her shoulders, deepening the chaste kiss.

She was saying goodbye.

He had to pull away. They were alone, two blips in the vastness of an ancient woodland. His tongue traced the seam of her lips and she gasped with each slow tease. Damnation.

He delved into her mouth. Never had they kissed in that manner. Leaning further into her, he twisted their positions until they tumbled onto the sleep roll. She was beneath him, panting, cleaving to him.

Although not pale, her skin was light enough to catch the hues of the moon seeping through the cracks of the giant trunk. She was illuminated more by the reflective nature of silver hair. His lips hovered over hers in awe.

Selfishly, his eyes began to rotate, twisted black figures languid, immortalizing this one image of her. He'd take it with him wherever he went.

She ardently touched their mouths together.

Gently, he placed a hand on her waist. It slid upward, slowly, until it dragged over a breast. She gasped beneath him, tantalizing him. His hand slid downward.

Primal gratification coursed aflame through his veins when she moaned. His mouth and pinches grew dauntless as the feminine sounds increased. How lovely she felt beneath his frame. Her pleasurable hums emboldened him to press himself to her.

Trembling, her fingers touched his chest. His glowing gaze met hers. She desired him. Yet she shook her head. It was hardly a negation and more of an acknowledgement that they should stop, even as her legs made room for him.

He refused her sentiments numerous times, after all, only to turn around and seek to consume her body. He was not daft and knew the inconsistent behavior was in poor taste. That her confusion had not grown into hatred was a mercy.

Knowing her character, however, would she be any other way except like this? Forgiving and welcoming.

"Rest," he gruffly reiterated. "Please." He retreated to his corner. After some time, her breathing evened out. She needed the sleep. Her chakra was concerningly low. The ration pills helped. Food and slumber was the fasted way to recover energy. It was a necessity that she be at her best tomorrow.

Itachi watched her sleep. What she had done was reckless—utterly, and regrettably, reckless. Yet he was aware that his unkind threats to her were equally to blame.