I do not own Naruto.
Chapter 4
His guardsman was red faced all morning. She could not meet his gaze as they completed constructional tasks. She would obey his directives just fine, but her whispery voice lowered in volume and confidence.
It was her own folly for hiding her presence.
Her speaking facilities abandoned her yesterday, so he left her to her embarrassment in the woods and returned to the house. It seemed an evening wasn't enough time for a chunin's mortification to dispel. Perhaps she was younger than she looked. It was not as if she had been in the nude.
Even so, how had she done such a thing? And how often.
The sliding partition doors and windows of the old-fashioned home needed replacement. Some of the wooden frames had survived but a lot of the latticework screens were broken or wasted by years of rain and snow. The windows had a modern edge to them as well, with glass on the outside. For a moment, he debated whether to fix them. When he first arrived, he had opened all the windows and soon discovered he could not close them without damaging the framework.
Despite a vast knowledge of handiwork, learned throughout his youth and on the run, Itachi was no expert. While Kanna ran errands he studied the structure and function of the windows until he somewhat understood their intricacies. With adequate assessment, he grasped most things. The addition of the sharingan pronounced the handy characteristic.
When she returned with materials, they sat on the engawa, examining one of the sliding thresholds and holding a new one up to it. She kneeled quietly as he finagled with the pieces she brought. It was not the right size. He plainly told her so.
One would think the kittens had died all over again with the expression she made. He stoically stared at her while she began another whispery, string of apologies. How persistent, she was. Perhaps in another life he would have been the same.
He remembered, so long ago, seeing a naked woman bathing on a rooftop. Shisui had laughed at him. He had not felt shame for the sake of it, but rather, discomfort at the stirrings deep in his belly—she had been beautiful, and he had only been a boy. Time and madness dulled the memory.
"Show me," he cut off the repentant monologue, the sun at its highest point in the sky.
"What?" her soft voice said, cheeks florid.
"You've mastered the Ghost Technique to the point that the sharingan cannot detect you."
Kanna's brow pinched. Humiliation was still a debilitating factor in their current dynamic and had a fierce hold over her. Her shoulders were tense, and her hands gripped at her pantlegs. There was nothing to be ashamed of. She apologized last night. It was enough.
When he was sure she'd lost the ability to speak again, she said, "I've had training against it."
His eyebrows rose. "The sharingan?" His brother must have trained her. Her father had obviously lost the dōjutsu's power—when, he did not know.
"Yes," she said, gaze focused on his collar. "I want to get even better. I used to practice with other shinobi, but I've been busy lately..." All this time, had she been practicing the jutsu? Perhaps she was only sorry to be caught in a compromising situation.
"Show me."
She took a pause before she stood. He got up as well. She brought her trembling hands together into a tiger sign and then shot it upwards into a rotating motion above her head. She disappeared but not before knocking her hat off.
Itachi activated the sharingan and stepped forward. He reached out with a hand. If she had not moved, approximately, she would be standing—his palm lightly landed on her hair. He could not see anything. She had utterly mastered a rare jutsu.
He dragged his fingers through her short hair, turning his palm upwards. With impeccable precision, he focused the spin of the tomoe where the hair lay on his palm. He felt the silky strands but saw and sensed nothing.
"Impressive," he muttered and moved his hand against the shell of her ear. With such little chakra, how long could she keep this up? The Ghost Technique was a rare wind jutsu that required the user to naturally possess marginal chakra but exceptional control of it. The wielder was invisible. Typically, those with low chakra never became shinobi, and if they ever did, wind nature was a unique nature.
"Are you a medic?" It was not irrelevant to ask. Such chakra control surely granted her formidably medical prowess.
"I'm not very good at that," came her disembodied, habitually soft voice. "But I've…had some training."
"I see."
Inspecting the masked entity again, his fingers pressed into her cheek and his thumb passed over her mouth, curving under her jaw. He moved the invisible head side to side. Incredible. A whispery gasp escaped the air before him. She had not overcome the auditory portion of the technique.
He removed his hand. "Few in history have mastered this jutsu. Well done."
She flickered into visibility. "Thank you," she said, ears pink.
With a nod, he said, "Let's get back to work."
Rare were the days he could not leave the futon. He would try everything to keep the chills at a minimum, at least to a point where he could function in an acceptable manner. Yet at times the tremors were unconquerable. The days following the powerful episodes seemed longer and filled with a keen awareness of breathing.
The first time it happened, his guardsman was not present. He was somewhat relieved she had not borne witness to the spectacle, as she tended to sputter at minor inconveniences. Previously, and at her discretion, he instructed her to observe two leisure days. That the days had coincided had brought him some sense of reassurance.
The second and third time, Kanna kneeled behind the shoji door to his room and asked if there were errands to run. "Nothing," he barely managed to say. So she left. The fourth time she did not bother coming in and hovered in the field for a few hours, doing light tasks.
She did not ask questions or disturb him during such days. And if she practiced the Ghost Technique, eavesdropping, then it was her own cross to bear, subjugating herself to an unsightly scene.
One night, Itachi sat out on the engawa, head leaning into one of the wooden beams. He aimlessly stared out into the overgrown field. His long hair cascaded around him in unbrushed tangles. His legs hung over the engawa's edge, bare feet grazing the grass below.
When would Sasuke arrive? It was nearing the aforesaid two months. Perhaps it was expectancy that afflicted him. Even if his brother found his presence tolerable—what did that mean for the duration of his life?
He would live out the rest of the sentence here. Ten years was a long time. He never thought he would remain alive for a very long number of years. Death once walked closely—by the sword or by disease, it had always loomed. Seeing past a defined mark to an undefined future was a novel concept.
If he remained here, and Sasuke was agreeable, Itachi would serve the ten years. He would be in the vicinity of his brother and his growing family. It would be a quiet life, unperturbed by the drones of the village and its many faculties. After the decade was over, Itachi was a free man. He could leave the village without restrictions. No one would hunt him down or attempt to claim a bounty on his head.
They were on the engawa, carefully sliding paper into the latticework panels. It was a tough, translucent white paper that was made for the cold months of the year. Kanna had chosen wisely. The material was also a diffuser of natural light.
Itachi glanced up as three chakra signatures approached them. He looked to his guardsman. She was none the wiser as she continued her task. She wore a soft smile and had a serene way about her. There was no indication that she was aware of the soon-to-be company.
"Kanna," he said.
"Hm?" she glanced up, smile still in place.
"Your brothers and their teammate are here." As well as two more shadowy figures.
Her eyebrows shot up. She put a hand over her eyes and squinted towards the field. At the mouth of the field where the main path started, appeared three not-genin. They seemed to be congratulating themselves that they had found 'the creepy house' again.
They energetically waved and Kanna mirrored them, laughing. She hurriedly slid her shoes on and made to jog, but they reached her first.
"Nechannn," Daiki whined and ran up to her. He hugged her, leaning so much of his weight she had to reposition her stance to hold him up. "We're bored."
"What are you all doing here?" She was smiling as she said it. She found their company pleasing.
"Sensei is late for training," Satomi provided, coming to a stop in front of his siblings. He glanced at the structure of the house, an impressed glint in his eye. "This place is looking good."
"So boring," Tsubame mumbled. She crossed her arms and bumped Kanna's hip with her own. It caused the silver haired girl to briefly fumble with a sniffling boy in her arms. "What kind of sensei is late to training? How unprofessional."
Kanna nodded, as if completely understanding, although nothing was explained as far as Itachi could discern. "Maybe you could train here for today," his guardsman said. She patted Daiki's head. "I'm sure Itachi won't mind."
Itachi peered at her a moment and then went back to his task. "There is a large riverbed half a kilometer from here, southeast." He paused in his ministrations to find three not-genin closely leaning in, encircling his workspace. He noticed they wore a patchwork symbol on their pantlegs.
"Ohhh, so that's how you do that," Tsubame cooed.
"I hear they're very economical." It was Satomi who commented this. Unlike his older sister, his silver hair framed his face in an expertly cut fringe. His features were sharper and more neutral of emotion.
"Should we help?" Daiki mumbled and poked the completed frame in Itachi's hands.
"Careful," Kanna kneeled with everyone on the crowded engawa, "They easily rip." She lifted a rectangle that had a tear in it and proceeded to pop one of her fingers through it. Her audience gave a collective hum of understanding. She excluded that the one who initially tore the piece was her.
"Maybe we shouldn't help," Tsubame whispered to her team. "Being gentle isn't our forte."
Satomi agreed. "Let's just go train." They scrambled away.
"Thanks, zombie-san!" Tsubame waved, heading towards the southeast with her male counterparts. The boys echoed the sentiment, including the moniker.
Kanna hid a grin behind her hand. "They're so funny, right?"
Itachi went back to the frames.
The next day, Yamanaka Sai's team came again. Two days turned into three. Their presence was a stark contrast between the quiet fluidity of Itachi and Kanna. They were all sound and tumbling and laughter. Instead of immediately going to the training area, they would linger and animatedly chatter with one another. The topic ranged from personal matters to crude humor at one another's expense. They would often try to cajole his guardsman in on their tomfoolery, but she'd only giggle and continue her tasks alongside Itachi.
Noticing their prolonged hovering one afternoon, Kanna peered over her shoulder. She was scrubbing down the wooden legs that held up the engawa. With a steel sickle, Itachi hacked away at the overgrown grass that flattened against the edges of the house.
Kanna inquired, "Shouldn't you all be with your sensei?" It was not said in a way that suggested their presence was a nuisance. Instead, she commented kindly, asking a simple question.
"Nechan," Daiki said, walking on his hands, getting ready to race his brother, "as chunin we don't always have to have supervision."
"We do for volunteering," Tsubame sighed, inconvenienced by the truth of her words. "And at least three training days with sensei." She stood at an imaginary finish line with her arms out.
"We've met the requirements this week," Satomi spoke up, face red from being upside down. He spit hair out of his mouth. Kanna swiftly made her way to him and tied his hair back. He grinned when she whispered 'beep, beep' while honking the improvised bun.
"Go!" Tsubame called and the boys raced toward her on their hands.
As they competed, Itachi pondered on their conversation. Why would chunin be retained in a genin-like squad or have elementary restrictions imposed on them. Why would they need supervised days of training and volunteer work. Evidently the past's standard protocol had changed.
It could not be because the young men were the Hokage's progeny. Kanna herself was a chunin yet she came alone. As far as he could tell, she was without the restrictions that the not-genin often lamented.
Itachi awoke with one of the acute episodes. At sunrise, it became manageable enough that he got up to greet Sai's team. This was the fourth day in a row they appeared. There was an unusual silence amongst them when he slid the shoji frame open and greeted them with a light 'good morning.' They were in a huddle eating fruits.
It was Daiki who said, "Zombie-san, you look like you're gonna be sick."
Kanna frowned and Satomi softly scolded their brother, explaining that his words were impolite. The Tsubame girl rolled her eyes at the lack of tact. Scratching the back of his head with a rueful grin, Daiki apologized.
Itachi felt no offense. There was little in the world that offended someone like him. Daiki's words were true enough. He found no sleep last night and the trembling persisted to a degree that was noticeable but not debilitating.
Throughout the day, as the not-genin ran around and left to do their training, Itachi came to the mild conclusion that Kanna and the team's vibrant personalities were a beneficial distraction. The presence of others prompted a sort of tether to realty and boxed away the trickery of his mind.
If they had not come today, perhaps he would not have manifested the strength to rise.
The square print that symbolized a clan was expertly stitched into Kanna's pant leg. It was a rombic paving that resembled a farm field. Her brothers wore the patched square as well.
"Kanna," Itachi said, curiosity piqued. There were so many questions and nothing to give him answers.
She blinked up at him with a smile, nail at the ready between two fingers. They were outside, repairing the kitchen window frame. There was no porch on this side of the house.
"Is that a clan symbol?" Straightforwardness was fasted in satiating curiosity. There was a nineteen-year gap in his historical understanding. The more Kanna and her brothers' team chatted near him, the more he realized how little he knew of today's world.
She twisted her leg out, pointing the stitched square towards him. The curve of her calf muscle flexed. "It's my little brother's goal to become an official clan. It hasn't happened yet, but he calls this manifestation and it's even been in the newspaper." She found humor in her own words that escaped him.
He thought of the two not-genin. "Which one?"
She smiled wider. "Satomi. He's very ambitious."
"I see," he said. Returning to his task, he offhandedly added, "The providence of a clan name will give him autonomy." It was a clan's privilege to be set aside from subjective Konoha law.
She was surprised, as if she'd never thought of that before. She frowned slightly. "Oh, I'm not sure if that's a good idea."
Itachi glanced at her and took a nail. "Why is that?"
"Satomi can be naughty."
Yes. Both her brothers, in fact, were unruly. Though they were unlikely to be anything like the Uchiha, whose autonomy had been their demise. Itachi hammered down the last nail. Sasuke had once been a needy toddler. Naughty, even, if his 'niisan' was away too long.
"He is morally sound," he pointed out. He gave the window frame a shake and it did not budge. It would do. He set the hammer on the windowsill and picked up the canteen leaning against the wall.
Kanna dropped a nail in the can. "He is! But our father does have to set him straight a lot. Tousan has all sorts of speeches ready for us." She giggled and the sound of it made Itachi pause in his efforts to drink water. She leaned forward as if telling a secret. "We've been said to be the worse of all the kage children."
For Itachi, Kakashi's personality begun and ended with the Copy Ninja being a serious Anbu captain. The idea of a disciplining father was not too far off. "Is that so?" he said to be polite. This was their first real conversation.
He doubted the Hatake were the worse of the kage children. In the past, he had met a few from other villages. They had been warmongering sycophants. By comparison, Kakashi's children were benevolent, adolescent shinobi, if not a little ridiculous.
His guardsman seemed more than happy to overshare. She was appreciating the change in their usually stoic dynamic. "That's a parent's job, I guess." Her voice was consistently delicate in speech and manner. "Did your father ever sit you down?"
She was observing him thoughtfully. Her question did not stifle him nor did it bring up strained memories of harsh demands and accusations. Instead, Itachi remembered the time Fugaku scolded him for not wearing shoes outside.
"My father was a stern man."
Kanna made the sort of empathetic expression normal in these discussions, nodding in acquiescence at the general temperament of fathers toward their children. "Tousan sometimes is, too." She waved a hand in front of her face, dismissing Kakashi as being stern. "Mostly he's silly."
Itachi unknowingly smirked as he strode away, and she followed. Hatake Kakashi had turned into a 'silly' man, she said. His children were not so different.
"Please wait!" She shuffled to him. The nails in the tin rattled and almost spilled over.
He turned to her, impassive.
Her ears reddened, holding the cylinder close to her chest. "Would you…would you benefit from textbooks?" The red from the sides of her face met at her nose. "Like history?"
It did not happen immediately nor discernibly—a small moment of nothing, and then, his eyes widened. What did this girl know of him? His penal sentence did not prevent the purchasing of historical documentation, but he did not know where her orders began and ended. The mission that bound her to him could have a million agendas, or none.
Most of all, he had not been aware she deduced his need for basic information. Unless the offer, too, was part of an ambiguous mission.
"I would." It was the truth.
She nodded, peeking to the trees. The shadowy follower was not a secret to her then. She softly asked, "What sort of history?"
He thought about it. "The last canonical thirty years of each nation." He wanted to understand what kind of world he had been revived into. It was the world Sasuke was a part of, a world he left for months on end, with a wife and child at home.
Kanna's eyebrows shot up, brown irises nearly honey due to the falling sapphire sky.
"Use the credits," he instructed. There was more than enough in the allotted treasury. If his brother found the house arrest disagreeable, he would at the very least benefit from a renovated property and a library of historical collections.
It was unsurprising when the Rokudaime and the Anbu commander arrived one afternoon.
The not-genin were running around. Tsubame was chasing and screaming insults at Daiki. He was grinning from ear to ear, dodging every time she came close. Kanna began to run after them, trying to remove the dozens of newly hatched crickets jumping on Tsubame's head. Satomi was next to a pile of abandoned pasture, leaning on his knees. He was laughing quite loudly.
Itachi held a stock of dead feathery grass. As usual, he only stared as the tomfoolery unfolded and did not comment nor try to stop it.
"Please hold still," Kanna breathed, "Tsubame-chan!"
"Daiki, get back here!"
Satomi fell into the grass pile, wheezing.
"It was HIS idea!" Daiki shouted, nearly apprehended, pointing towards his older brother.
Satomi gasped when Tsubame's glare turned on him. And so, the chase continued. He scarcely escaped a chakra-induced dropkick. The same could not be said of the grass mound. It was an explosion of dried perennials. As the girl continued to hunt her teammates, Itachi silently made his way to the disturbed heap. He began to neatly pile it up again.
It was then that their visitors stepped out of the trees. Kakashi raised a hand, eyes smiling over his mask. "Hello, everyone!"
"Rokudaime-sama," Itachi said in greeting. He nodded at Sai, as well. "Good afternoon."
"Tousan!" Daiki called and ran up to his father. "You've found us!"
Kakashi ruffled his black, spikey hair. "So I have."
"We're not in trouble, right, sensei?" Daiki gazed at Sai with big, brown eyes.
Itachi assumed the Anbu in the shadows were ordered to give the young men a sense of autonomy, and that was why it had taken five days to be discovered. Satomi and Tsubame ran behind Kanna, who looked more ready for a reprimand than the not-genin playing hooky.
"Satomi, was this your idea?" Sai called over. It seemed the boy was the habitual contriver of illicit schemes.
The not-genin peeked around his sister, shoulder length hair swooping to the side. "Not this time."
"Tousan," Kanna spoke up, "I thought they could be helpful here."
The visitors made it a point to look at the open field around them. Their gazes fell at the haphazard piles of pasture scattered all over the property.
"We've been training, too!" Daiki helpfully added. "I caught up to Satomi's speed!" The boy raised his arms in the air in presentation. "And when we raced today, I beat him!"
"I have a feeling we're getting half the story," Kakashi nonchalantly commented.
Sai crossed his arms. "That's probably because we are, Hokage-sama."
Considering the Uchiha's apathetic expression, Kakashi asked, "Is this true?"
"Yes, he did succeed." Itachi provided at least one answer. The young team had begged Itachi to use his sharingan to call the winner. Daiki won by a millimeter.
The Hokage chuckled and the sensei rubbed his temples. "That being said," Sai stepped towards the two using Kanna as a human shield. "You've all missed a week of training. Chunin or not, you know what the requirements are for ninja under sixteen."
"Sensei," Tsubame whined behind the shield, "we only came here in the first place because you were an hour late and we were bored!"
"Yeah!" Daiki echoed.
One of Sai's eyes twitched. "I had a meeting. And it's been days. You all could have told me where you were going. The only reason I know you're all here is thanks to the Hokage."
Kakashi looped an arm around Daiki's shoulders. The boy wore a huge grin as he was affectionately pulled into his father's side. "I suspected as much when your shoes were dragging in the same dirt as your sister. Your stealth could use some improvement." His gaze was directed at his eldest. "I expect better from you, Kanna-chan."
She frowned and looked at the ground, easily chided.
Satomi stepped around her in gallantry. "Twice a week as chunin we're allowed to train on our own. For our volunteer hours, we can help here. It's the least we can do for Uchiha-san." Uchiha-san? "Nechan can supervise and sign off on it." The boy had a tense stare off with his father.
Kakashi eventually sighed. "What do you think, Sai?"
"It's not a bad idea," the Commander admitted. "We've been busy at headquarters."
"That's true," Kakashi said. "Very well. I'll permit it." The team's look of excitement was short lived as the Hokage kept speaking. "Now, at this moment, should Itachi refuse to host your training, and find you to be more trouble than you're worth, your volunteer hours will be doubled, and you'll have no more unsupervised training until you're all sixteen." He looked at the Uchiha expectantly, awaiting a reply.
The young team inhaled sharply, staring at Itachi with wide, pleading eyes. A cricket jumped out of Tsubame's hair. Kanna also gazed at him with a measure of appeal. It was not as if she would be directly impacted. The team had failed to communicate with their teacher and there were repercussions to such foolishness.
Despite it all, Itachi felt somewhat manipulated into saying, "That is fine."
Daiki pumped his fists in the air, nearly licking the Hokage's jugular. Unphased and smiling, the kage tilted his stance, avoiding the accidental collision.
Kanna smiled, watching as Tsubame ran around her in circles, laughing and cheering at what she perceived to be a victory over their authorities. Satomi remained poker-faced in response to his father's conditional agreement. He was aware the arrangement had likely been predetermined. The boy was perceptive.
"Twice a week," Itachi stated. "Only after he returns." He preferred Sai's team to not be present when Sasuke returned.
"Who returns?" Tsubame not-whispered to Satomi, who shrugged.
The lines on the sides of Kakashi's eyes creased more, understanding the reference to Itachi's brother. "After the new year then. Sounds like a plan." He glanced around the area. "Before you all leave, and you will leave, clean this mess up."
After the Hokage and sensei left, the team got to work. They were efficient when they put their mind to it. Itachi and Satomi hacked away at the overgrown grass. The others tied and then piled it up. The expansive field was finally cleared. The mound of stocks was large and casted a shadow over the young team.
The three teens had their hands on their hips, necks bent looking up at the peak. "What're we supposed to do with all this?" Tsubame thought out loud.
Itachi and Kanna were nearer to the house. "We can donate to farms," she lightly suggested. It was an introspective suggestion.
At that moment, Daiki decided to breathe a massive fireball. The dead grass immediately ignited in a grand blast of embers. Satomi lunged at Tsubame, quickly getting her out of harm's way. His momentum speedily rolled them towards the house and away from the pyre. Sudden high temperature enveloped the atmosphere. Itachi felt his face and chest heat in response.
Kanna demurely gasped, bringing her hands to her cheeks. "Daiki!"
Said boy looked over his shoulder and confidently displayed a thumbs up. "I took care of it, nechan!" His eyebrows were missing. Kanna's jaw dropped at his ignorance.
"You idiot!" Satomi shouted, untangling from his teammate. The right side of his normally silver hair was singed and curled black. "Warn us next time!"
"NEXT TIME?! There better not be a next time!" Tsubame screamed, throwing fists. She got in a few good hits before Satomi managed to restrain her. "He's crazy! You're crazy! GET OFF!"
Meanwhile the fire stretched higher towards the sky. Two of the three Anbu jumped into the field and started using water jutsu. Perhaps the Anbu detail was less for protection and more for damage control.
Feeling Kanna's perturbed gaze, Itachi turned to her. "I'm so sorry," she said it despairingly. After the new year, she would officially be putting up with their antics as much as he would be. "They're not always like this."
Thinking of when he first encountered the trio, he sincerely doubted that.
During the reprieving absence of the not-genin, he was brought history books and scrolls of updated maps. The sheer amount of texts lined the walls of the second room. His guardsman had been diligent in her literary task.
There were writings of Otsutsuki Hagorom and recent newspapers. There were even fictional books he would never read. He found a gardening book amongst the vast collection. Oddly, he read it first.
He wondered how much of Kanna's own money was used for the unasked-for titles. The account ledger only reflected the requested historical range. Glancing through more books, he saw that some were preowned and had her family name inscribed on the inside. Her generosity was worthy of being repaid, but he had nothing.
Itachi stared out the open window, a new book in hand. It was nearly the new year, cold and gray. Two months had come and gone and still no sign of Sasuke.
Kanna often took her lunches under the same tree.
The tree was shorter than the rest, leaves a mixture of oranges and gold, now falling all around. It stood at the opening of the field. A straight path wove from it to the house. She would unzip her small backpack and carefully remove an arsenal of cutlery. A small blanket would first be placed on the grass, and then multiple, small containers of food would be neatly arranged before her. She'd sit, remove her hat, and say a blessing before she partook of an obviously homemade lunch.
Itachi worked through lunch hours, or read in the second room.
They stared at a wooden beam that supported the overhang paralleling the engawa. "It's crooked," she said.
"It is not," he assured without inflection to his voice. They had used a level on all the beams.
She frowned and put a hand on it. "But look at it," her soft voice insisted, pointing. Her pale eyebrows rose and disappeared under the rim of her hat. "Look."
His guardsman had never insisted on anything, so he squinted, trying to see what she was talking about.
"WAIT! I SAID WAIT!" A loud, raspy voice resounded across the trees and into the air around them.
Kanna gasped. The sound was airy and soft. Keeping his eyes towards the disturbance, Itachi stepped in front of her. His sharingan activated. There were two monstrous chakras rapidly closing in on them. It was—
A man with the fluctuating image of Itachi's mother and father appeared at the field's fringe, one eye spinning red and the other glowing violet.
Itachi's eyes widened.
Kanna threw herself at Itachi, taking him by surprise. Her arms wrapped around his torso, trapping his arm between them. Her eyes were tightly shut, cheek pressing into his bicep. Was she afraid for him? She was using the Ghost Technique. Along with himself, she was a windy illustration, wisps of a once solid image. Her demure chakra expertly cocooned him. It matched the ebb and flow of the wind around them.
And it was warm.
Only because he was within the bubble of her jutsu could he likely see this much. Her blurry, brown eyes opened, wide and unsure. With her gaze she begged him to stay silent.
Itachi slowly looked to the edge of the property. There his brother stood, a frown marring his features. His eyes—oh his eyes were heavy laden. Was the news of Itachi's resurrection so offensive?
He'd grown taller. His hair was longer, too, its tips dancing above his much broader shoulders. His frame was like Fugaku's, but his features were heavily their mother's. Dark and pale, elegantly assorted into the sharpness of a man. Itachi knew the traveling cloak hid a disfigured arm. How often was his sibling sent out on long missions? Surely his wife and child missed him.
At that moment Itachi connected the fact that, in a normal lifespan, he would outlive his little brother.
Itachi went to step forward, but Kanna's grip tightened. She tapped her forehead twice on his arm. Please. He briefly glanced at her before returning his gaze to the field's mouth. She had likely been ordered to conceal him should his little brother poorly receive Itachi's revival. Was holding the jutsu with another in it very difficult? She was sweating. For her, it was foolish to contend with someone like Sasuke, an exponentially fearsome opponent, outclassing her by leaps and bounds.
Uzumaki Naruto jumped down next to Sasuke. His body was outlined with fiery, yellow chakra. He looked directly at Kanna, but quickly directed the amphibian gaze to his old friend. "Sasuke, let me finish explaining."
Sasuke carefully scanned the general area. He knew they were near but couldn't quite focus on the correct spot. The girl had been too slow.
"Kanna," Sasuke spoke in a deep voice, ignoring the Nanadaime. "Do not hide from me."
Itachi peered at the girl, deactivating the sharingan. She was trembling against him. If he removed her from his person, they would become visible. He placed a hand on her forearm. She shook her head. He did not wish for her to disobey orders, nor would he dare push her off, but—he looked to his brother again, mesmerized by the passage of time and what it had done to him.
Itachi's heart ached. He tapped two fingers on Kanna's forearm. Please.
"Please," the moment the wind carried Sasuke's whisper to them, Kanna released Itachi, covering her mouth with trembling hands and stepping back.
"Sasuke," Itachi spoke benignly. His face remained passive, but his eyes swam with dark currents of resignation. His fate was in his brother's hands. It had always been and always would be. Itachi had taken so much from him.
The Nanadaime placed a hand on his friend's shoulder. "It's you," Sasuke said under his breath.
Itachi did not understand the longing his words were laced with. The last time the siblings had seen one another, they had been in a cave and the younger had been spiraling deeper into hatred. Never did his brother's chaos deter Itachi from loving him.
"You don't ever have to forgive me and whatever you do from here on out, know this, no matter what, I will love you always."
Sasuke body flickered. Itachi closed his eyes. They quickly opened, bewildered, when Sasuke's arm wrapped around his shoulders.
"It's you," he said again, voice a murmured croak. His hand held the back of Itachi's head, pulling him closer until their ears pressed against one another. They were now the same height.
Itachi's eyes stung. "Why?" he asked.
Sasuke's answer was pulling his brother into a tighter embrace.