I do not own Naruto.

Chapter 5

The Uchiha brothers sat across one another in the living space. One latticework wall was agape, allowing cool air in. Naruto and Kanna had long disappeared to allow for privacy.

The previously younger sibling considered the resurrected man with a bereaved sense of relief, as if what had once been taken had appeared with fragility and could be lost at any moment.

With a measure of suspension, the previously older brother took in the one before him. A man in his thirties, with a wife and child. And he was not filled with hatred, nor was an ounce of it directed at Itachi.

Sasuke, in fact, welcomed him with the desperateness a loved one possessed after thinking to have lost what was most precious. There had been an embrace, and now, prolonged gazing, full of incredible longing and polite words.

"Are you well?" Sasuke asked for the second time that hour. "Here, I mean." He glanced around the room. There was so much missing to make the old house a home. Yet given his brother's past life, it was more hospitable than he had likely partook from in decades.

No, that timeframe was not correct. Not decades. For Itachi, it would have been eight years.

Itachi closed his eyes. "I am well, Sasuke."

He kept doing that—saying his name. It felt like grounding, holding both brothers to the present moment, assuring them of what was before them. That they were real in front of the other. Not since Sarada's birth did Sasuke feel like weeping.

He tampered down the urge to touch Itachi again, to make sure he was as real as he looked.

Thinner than he once was, it was clear Itachi was not getting enough food, or sleep. But he was alive. Tangible. And so much younger than he ought to be.

Who had done this miraculous, forbidden thing?

Legally, there was some sort of penance Itachi had to fulfill. After ten years, he would be allowed freedom outside of the district. It wounded Sasuke to have his brother treated as a criminal, but he'd been given easy access to the outside world in the form of an errand runner. Also, there were no guards to monitor him like a caged villain. These details somewhat soothed the insult.

And, Sasuke reasoned, his brother executed the unimaginable. For the sake of justice, something had to be done in penance for the lives that had been taken—precious lives—no matter how corrupt some of the Uchiha had been. Realistically, the Uchiha of the past had still been citizens of Konoha, lost in the ravages of a secret war. There had been women and children who'd known nothing of their leaders' a coup d'etat, or of Shimura Danzo's genocidal vendetta.

Many non-Uchiha had lost friends and comrades. That generation, when educated on the true facts of the massacre, had mourned differently for their loved ones. For a time after the Fourth War, confusion and new woes formed. 'The truth is worth knowing,' Kakashi had said to a room full of shocked jonin and other elites. Decades passed, and with age the memory of a tragic clan faded into an old recollection.

That was the nature of time.

Even the acute loss of his brother blurred over the years. It did not get better, but it got easier for Sasuke.

Yet having Itachi again brought the old memories to the surface—pain and love and disappointment all reemerged. Sasuke was not a petulant child anymore. He was not easily swayed by the changing winds. No, he was an evolved man. Disciplined and decisive, he daily conquered the condition of his mind, and his heart. Although this new development was monumental in size, he maintained a calmness over himself that stemmed from a deep sense of gratefulness.

Sasuke had made a choice long ago to fully live the life Itachi had spared. He'd fallen in love, started a family and balanced a shinobi lifestyle that was useful to Konoha. He had a good life. One that he hoped Itachi could be proud of.

Yes, nearly twenty years dulled the heartache of the past.

Observing his elder brother now, however, Sasuke saw that the genocide followed Itachi closely. Of course, in their youth, he never noticed the phantom of it haunting his brother, until it was too late. Even now, for Itachi, it had not been long at all. And it was his hands used as the killing instrument.

Images of Itachi coughing and unable to dodge shuriken filled Sasuke's mind. "How are your lungs?" He had to ask.

Itachi hesitated a moment before answering. "They are fine."

"Have you been examined?" Sasuke was baiting, on the verge of incredulity. The man looked sickly, after all. In his last life he had a rare lung disease. There was no telling what secrets the revived body kept.

"When I arrived."

Sasuke would know it if he had been patient and listened to Naruto's likely thorough report. Or if he had first gone home to his family.

Itachi calmly added, "It was your wife who examined me."

And just like that, the heterochromatic man relaxed. "Sakura did? I'm sorry. I am still in shock." A pause. "And I don't know what to say."

"I am the same." Itachi had not expected such a benign welcome.

"Do they know who did this?"

Itachi closed his eyes. "If there has been a development, it has not been disclosed to me."

"Hn," Sasuke mumbled, crossing his right arm over his chest. "Ten years?"

"Yes."

Sasuke abruptly stood. Itachi calmly followed him out.

"I'll be back—tonight. I'd like to get more information." Newly inaugurated as the active Hokage, Naruto would be easier to deal with than Kakashi. "We can discuss it then." Focusing on a goal was a prudent endeavor among the onslaught of uncertainty and emotion between them. Though, an outsider looking in would perceive two calm men having a casual conversation.

Sasuke also had a pressing need to see his little family. He stepped out into the engawa, his dark cloak flaring behind him. He stopped to put on his combat shoes and then turned to Itachi, recalling a fascinating afterthought.

"You've met Sakura."

"I have."

"And…?" Puffs of cold air formed when he spoke. The sun was setting. The new year always brought low temperatures in Konoha, although they never lasted long.

Itachi stood by the threshold of the shoji panel. "No. Not the child."

"Hn." Sasuke straightened. The topic of his daughter could wait—he missed her dearly. He'd been away from home too long, longer than he had promised. During his mission, what he had come across was... "Are you armed?"

"There are carpentry tools."

Sasuke scoffed a laugh. "That is more than enough, but I'd like you to have these." He pulled out three kunai and flung them. Itachi's fingers expertly looped through the rings, catching them without pause or diverting his gaze. "I'll come again."

Itachi nodded, lowering his arm. "Tonight."

When he returned, the brothers spoke late into the evening. They discussed the unsolved mystery of the resurrection and the eccentric ten-year sentence. Of course, the younger thought it was too severe while the older confessed it was too lenient.

Sasuke delved into all that occurred during and after the war. Itachi, with a frown, was given the chance to examine Sasuke's left forearm. And then, with rapt curiosity, his rinnegan. They acknowledged how the two bore the other's eyes and Itachi denied knowing the limits of his new powers. "There is no need for it," he had said.

They discussed the cosmic Kaguya and who Otsutsuki Indra was to the Uchiha. The topic was baffling—it was extraordinary. At his brother's quiet skepticism, Sasuke used the power of the sharingan to illustrate images of what had been, putting at ease the suspension of disbelief. It was no wonder then, when Sasuke left at dawn, that Itachi carefully sorted through the scrolls of the Sage of Six Paths.

It was midwinter and Sasuke visited most afternoons. While the calls were short and concise, they never failed to fill Itachi with a sense of restoration. He cherished his brother more than anything in the world. To again witness that same devotion reflecting back at him was welcomed. What had once been lost was slowly, deftly, being rediscovered.

Since the night of the massacre, Itachi never believed it would be possible to exchange benign dialogue with his brother. They spoke mundane words of contemplation and kindness—civility amongst comrades. Amongst family.

They both agreed to postpone bringing Sarada to the property.

It was only with Sasuke's visitations that Itachi considered the meager hospitality within the domain afforded to him. The inconsequential concern did not last long.

On a frosty afternoon, while Kanna supervised Sai's team on the outskirts of the property, Itachi excused himself for not having something warm to offer. Sasuke had said nothing to it, unbothered. The next day, he arrived with his wife. She was smiling brightly and filled with girlish giddiness. And she was obviously, and delicately, with child.

It was true, after all.

Itachi silently sat in the empty living area as Sasuke and his wife entered every room of the small home. She took stock of what was needed. "Tatami mats, of course. A rice cooker. Warmer blankets. A heater! It's so cold in here! Oh, and a fan for the summer. Lots of shelves for that little library Kanna-chan's been secretly stocking... a table and seat cushions…"

"Yukata," Sasuke added, voice muffled from down the hall. "He used to…like things like that." The couple peered at Itachi from around the corner, as if he would interject.

He did not.

"What a great idea!" Sakura commented, "Itachi-nii appreciates old-fashioned things. Maybe we should get some too, hm?" She leaned into Sasuke's side with a closed grin, eyes glittering coquettishly.

His brother responded straightforwardly. "If that is what you want, Sakura." She giggled, walking into the second room, rubbing her small, protruding abdomen. His brother stared after her hips before following.

Itachi was somewhat in awe at the casualness of Sasuke's domestic lifestyle. It was odd to mathematically connect that the two were married longer than Itachi and Sasuke had been brothers. More so if one added their time as a team and discounted the years Itachi had been a rogue shinobi.

It was just as well. Sasuke made a home for himself. Itachi was glad for it.

Sometime later Sakura kneeled before him and revealed to him a very long list. "Will this do, Itachi-nii?"

After a quick scan, Itachi said, "It is more than I need."

"Tell me what I should cross out." She was giving him a sense of control.

He politely nodded and pointed at appliances he did not have use for, or did not know, precisely, what they were.

"But a salad spinner is so handy. It's perfect since you like vegetables so much."

"He doesn't know what it is." Sasuke pointed out when Itachi had no words for the woman.

"Oh!" Her emerald eyes shined with understanding. "It's a circular container with a removable strainer. There's a cover, too, and you pull a string that's attached to it. The strainer goes round and round until the water slides off the veggies, or fruits."

"It dries them," Sasuke elaborated simply.

"Hm-mm!" Sakura was agreeable to his succinct summary.

Itachi understood. "I will accept it. Thank you."

Sakura glanced back at Sasuke, as if in victory, and he smiled at her. He must have contemplated doing exactly this for some time—he had needed only slight acknowledgment from Itachi's end to initiate the invasion. If it gave him a sense of accomplishment, then Itachi would not fight it. There was no need to. Sasuke's fulfilment brought Itachi a measure of the same feeling.

He followed the husband and wife into the engawa. Sakura went to sit with Kanna on the steps, handing her the list of items. She had been drinking from a thermal container while watching her brothers play knucklebones with their teammate.

"You three," Sasuke called to Sai's team. The not-genin stiffened, but obediently turned to the man. "I'd like you to create a path from here to the village. And a fork at the bamboo wall, toward my home. The brooks need bridges as well."

Tsubame's jaw dropped but had no quip for the elite jonin.

"Will we be getting compensated, Sasuke-san?" Satomi asked, unfazed by the massive project.

"There will be an official request."

"We'll do it." Satomi smirked. It would be a mighty profit. Daiki saluted. Tsubame muttered a few choice words, wanting to be sixteen and cleaved from 'these buffoons.'

As his brother laid out plans with the team, Itachi's gaze navigated to Kanna. Her pale hair had gained some length. The young woman attentively listened to Sakura's directives. Her brown eyes shun with anticipation and her voice released dulcet sounds of understanding. Like her brothers' team, she donned a coat and boots.

Because of the cold weather, much could not be done to the house's surroundings. The young chunin had little duties to fulfill in her mission as an errand runner. Most days she supervised Sai's team at the preapproved grounds, fetched simple rations, or occasionally, presented him with a new text. There had been a week where she did not come at all.

For a split second, Kanna's gaze met with his, but swiftly departed. Her cheeks reddened, focusing on Sakura with greater intent.

Itachi quietly excused himself. He could not swim in the current climate, but he could walk.

In late winter, as frost melted away, Sasuke set forth on a five-day mission.

During that short period, Itachi began to experience what was formerly assumed to have dissipated—the nightly disturbances. The ailment was bridled in his brother's presence, lying in wait until the coast was unobstructed. The opinion of a most beloved sibling seemed terribly important to his subconscious mind. But the very night Sasuke bid his farewells, an overflow of suppressed tension fell upon Itachi, disabling him completely.

He could not rise for three days.

On the third sunrise, he awoke from a cold sweat to feel Kanna wiping his forehead with a warm cloth. Her brow was furrowed in a blend of concern and understanding. It was an empathetic look that was uncommon on one so young, but she wore it for him, knowing nothing of what he truly was. She managed to hydrate him before he closed his eyes and lost consciousness.

The next day, they did not talk about it.

She did not report it, he knew. For when his brother returned, Sasuke did not know of it. Nor would he ever if Itachi could help it. His brother only frowned, preoccupied with Itachi's weight loss and weary eyes.

It was true that Kanna revealed nothing of the strange condition, but Sasuke had his suspicions about the overall health of his brother.

"You have an eidetic memory," he said one afternoon.

In the living space, now donned with tatami mats and a ground table, Itachi glanced up from the packed meal he was slowly consuming. Sasuke brazenly said he would stay until Itachi ate its entirety. He wished the man had brought one for himself instead of making a spectacle. Though that was likely the intent.

"More than me, you suffer that night," Sasuke lightly said, "Time fogs my memories."

It was true that Itachi did not have that privilege, but he knew nothing else. Was the dwindling of photogenic detail preferred to hyperthymesia? The ability had saved his brother and the village on multiple occasions. Perhaps now that he had nightmares and little sleep, he could understand the pity in Sasuke's eyes.

"I see," Itachi said. What else was there to say? He took another bite of the rice allotted to him.

"If one day…you are overcome…there are ways to help."

The brothers observed one another for a moment. Itachi lowered his gaze to his meal. Sasuke was uncomfortable with this topic. Was the idea originally his? Or perhaps it had been his wife's influence, as spouses were known to prod. Especially one like Sakura, who was pregnant, insistent on adding 'nii' to his name, and made sure he had more than he needed within the property.

For his little brother's efforts, he said, "I will think on it."

Sasuke frowned, disbelieving, but nodded. "Tomorrow, I leave for a month."

Itachi's eyes widened. "So long?" What about his family? His wife was with child. Itachi's fingers pressed harder around the chopsticks. Surely prolonged absences were not common in his brother's life.

Sasuke's frown deepened. "A strange threat has appeared. I hoped you would be granted leave to come with me."

"I am a prisoner."

The incredulous look he received from his brother reminded him of the little, raven-haired boy he had once been. Sasuke's eyes scanned the room once and gave Itachi a pointed look.

"I am," Itachi insisted.

A smirk pulled at his brother's face. "Is Kanna your jailer?"

Ignoring the sarcasm at the expense of his guardsman, Itachi said, "Was the request approved?"

Sasuke sighed. "It was not. But I have a feeling it will, eventually."

"What is it that is happening?" That even Sasuke was not enough to solve the problem.

"A powerful genjutsu, seemingly greater than yours." Pausing, as if rethinking, he said, "greater than as you were nineteen years ago. My eyes have likely quadrupled your Tsukuyomi."

It was as his brother said. The Eternal Mangekyou was a deadly adversary.

Itachi replied, "There are prospective sharingan still out there." Between Orochimaru and Danzo, their clan's power had been passed around the entire continent. It was bound to have happened that some eyes were misplaced—or lost. Itachi's resurrection with his brother's eyes was proof of that.

Sasuke became serious, deep in thought. "I've thought of that too."

"You will be victorious in your mission and find the perpetrator," Itachi said. There were few more powerful than Sasuke. If he had his left arm, he would win a rematch with the Nanadaime.

Sasuke smirked. "I hope to." He got up to leave, seeing as Itachi finished the meal. "I will bring Sarada after my return. She wants to meet you. That is, if you'd like."

"Sasuke…I…" What does she know about me? He wanted to ask. The sudden grapple with fear surprised him but his expression remained neutral.

He felt a hand upon his shoulder as Sasuke's shadow leaned over the ground table. "She knows very little, but enough to understand there are consequences to our mistakes."

"She knows I am bound to this land for a crime."

"Yes. But not what." That would come later when she was older.

"I see."

"Don't worry. She's very good." Sasuke gathered his thoughts, reconsidering his comment. "Perhaps too blunt at times. She says things that make me feel inept as a father."

Itachi wondered what memory was producing Sasuke's sudden chagrin. Only discussing her, it was a girl who transformed his calm brother into an embarrassed father.

"Then I would like to meet her." Second to Sasuke, Itachi had wondered about the mysterious child. And the one that would soon come.

Pleased, Sasuke nodded and took his leave. Through the open shoji frame, Itachi watched Sasuke walk down the newly cobbled path. He stopped under Kanna's tree to exchange their usual pleasantries. She had a bento on her lap. And as usual, he patted her head as she beamed up at him. She was a child in his brother's eyes.

Kanna looked back at the house where Itachi sat, stoic and still. Her smile grew and she waved. He cordially nodded.

"Itachi," Kanna spoke his name softly, as she always did. They were unboxing shelves in the second room. "May I leave early today?" Her ears began to pink, eyebrows risen in expectation of his answer. "I have an event with my friends."

"I am not your employer," he answered, setting aside a pouch of bolts. There was no need to explain her actions.

The color of her ears spread to her cheeks and met at her nose. "I know that, but I want…" she paused, looking at all the parts on the floor, "it's the nice thing to do."

She was a kind person, he knew it. Her mannerisms were polite and oftentimes needlessly sweet, doing more than was required of her. She treated her brothers like small children, readily catering to them and their teammate. She was lucky that they revered her and did not take advantage of her tenderhearted nature.

"It is fine," he said, dismantling a cardboard box for easier disposal. He glanced at her as she frowned down at the instruction manual. Her types internalized offense and blamed themselves.

He should have answered her differently. His response may have hurt her even if what was said was the truth. It was likely a problem for her—a softhearted personality. He thought of when her father chided her. She had been near tears.

"Forgive my callousness, Kanna," he said with intent. Her shoulders rose in surprise. Her chin tucked downwards, and she looked at him through her long lashes. "Thank you for telling me."

Curiously, her blush deepened. "O-okay. You're welcome—I'll be back tomorrow, bright and early." She forgave easily.

A corner of his mouth barely curved. "Very well." He went back to busying himself and ignored the astonished look she wore at his own expression.

Itachi was one of the most thorough people Kanna knew. She fondly thought of him as she piled disposables into her red wagon.

His attention to detail was immaculate. He observed everything with the likeliness of a hawk in the sky. And although he kept most questions to himself, he was obviously a man filled with curiosity. He desired answers to things he did not know, whether they affected him or not. Pertinent things, too. Like history, or insignificant things like the symbol Satomi had patched into all her uniforms without permission.

It really seemed like Itachi couldn't help it sometimes. She thought it was the most adorable thing—for a man like him to do such an innocent, impulsive thing. Despite how serious and literal he was, when his curiosity got the best of him, he opened like a flower and just asked.

When these questions were directed at her, she felt so excited and seen. But she also became nervous she'd somehow answer wrong, and he'd lose interest to ever know a thing about her again.

She knew exactly what these strange feelings inside of her meant. And she knew, with a sense of foreboding, that should anyone ever find out, she'd be taken away from her duties in the Uchiha district.

Kanna blushed as Itachi brushed past her on the field. He paid no real mind to her. But these feelings came rushing to her the day he asked about her Ghost Technique. He touched her face! He touched her lips. He had looked at her so intently, amazed at her abilities. How could she not well up with tender emotions for such a handsome man?

He was beautiful to her, quiet as he was. She thought of how he helped with the kittens and her naughty brothers. He even apologized for being short with her and then thanked her for giving him a heads up. He was so kind, albeit he was often apathetic to an uncomfortable degree.

She felt as if she would explode any day. Maybe she could tell Mirai. Her best friend would listen. They had plans today, after all.

"Kanna," Itachi called from the engawa. "It's midday."

"Oh yes, thank you!" She bowed quickly from her waist. "I'll see you tomorrow!"

She grabbed her backpack and ran to the opening in the woods before spinning around. She waved. His eyebrows rose slightly, and after a moment, nodded at her friendliness. When she turned to leave, she giggled privately. He was so awkward.

But even so, he always, always tried to be polite. To everyone.

Kanna put a hand to her chest, taking a careful breath. Her heart beat faster anytime he looked at her. Sometimes it made her so nervous she felt sick, but as they got busy around the property, the butterflies were not so bad.

Feeling lighthearted, she ran through the woods and jumped over all the pretty streams and flat stones. Her hair carried in the wind. Spring was here and flowers were blooming all throughout the woodland. Some here, some there—beautifully and brightly.

Uchiha Itachi—the first boy she ever liked! Well, she internally corrected, he was a man and a little older than her. But that was alright. Tousan was much older than Kaasan!

Mirai was going to be so surprised!

Sasuke's presence was approaching. He was coming a week earlier than he had said—but Itachi was not well. With every ounce of strength left, he pulled himself out of the futon. He stumbled toward the back of the house. It was where Kanna preferred to dwell when he became this way.

The shoji door clattered open and nearly flew off its perch. Kanna startled from her place on the engawa. The book in her hands dropped. Itachi heavily leaned against the panel. His hair fell around his shoulders, and the yukata's collar was loose, exposing his chest.

"Do not let him see me like this." He was desperate.

A step forward and—he fell into her awaiting arms and disappeared.

She sat in a W, with her knees together on the wooden porch. Whatever she had been reading was discarded and, in its stead, his cold cheek pressed into her lap. His arms fell over her calves, and he could feel the curves on her bare feet against his palms.

Her chakra was warm and soothing, cocooning him. She smoothed his hair away from his face.

Sasuke waited on the other side of the house for half an hour and then left, but Itachi had already fallen asleep.

Kanna finally released the jutsu and stayed as she was for some time. After awhile, she carefully unfolded her legs to lay on the engawa, perpendicular to Itachi so that his head could still rest on her lap. Her eyes slowly blinked as she stared into the backwoods.

She didn't fall asleep like she used to when she was younger, after using the Ghost Technique. During training or out on the field, giving in to fatigue was dangerous. Her father pushed her to be the best at what she was talented in, to compensate for the areas where she lacked.

But there was no danger here.

So, observing as a cardinal picked at a tree's branch, she closed her eyes and drifted into a pretty dream, filled with streams and stones and a beautiful man with long eyelashes.