My longest chapter ever and also the first chap to not be edited by Chakra Wizard in a while. Enjoy! Comments, rep and criticism welcome!
Itachi faced a very delicate situation. It was one which neither shinobi training nor genius mind could help him successfully deal with; he was yet to recover the string which bound his ponytail. Simple as it might seem, this was a position that required utmost carefulness and discretion. If he were to, for example, make the dreadful and irreparable mistake of asking Sato about it, he would be replied with jeers and teasing that would make his even his bones grind in annoyance. After all, Mitsuki embroidered her name on the inner lining of the fabric. Also, there was a grave danger in putting the question to Hoji. Good natured as he was, the Senju was quite silly and naïve sometimes. It was highly possible that Hoji would make so much noise over the matter and Sato would hear, leading to the aforementioned bone grinding mockery. It would be foolishness to put the question to Shiko; there was no way the team captain could ever be bothered with something so trivial and vain. He would probably reprimand Itachi for even caring about the string. Moreover, Itachi was doing his best to avoid the ANBU’s Black Scorpion. Tenzo could definitely be discreet about something like this; he was likely more mature than the whole team combined but it was almost certain that he would not know the whereabouts of that which Itachi sought. Himura…well, Itachi simply wasn’t sure about him.
For twenty minutes they leaped towards Konoha, silent most of the time. This stillness was broken when Tenzo and Shiko—who were side by side—exchanged a word or two about how they would give their report and how pleased the Hokage would be with the outcome of their assignment. Hoji seemed to be distracted by every peculiar plant they whizzed past; admiring the colorful flower petals and strangely shaped leaves with a childish wonder, mumbling sometimes to himself about the possible medical and aesthetical uses of each one. Sometimes, Sato was pleased to make sly comment about the lack of manliness in the Senju’s actions and the slighted medic would always shoot back with something equally as stinging, but Shiko would silence both with his one of his dreadful glares before they fell into a bout of bickering. Himura only spoke once, commenting dolefully about his the sword which Akakuma broke in two and how it was a gift from his master. He had quickly replaced it with another commonplace samurai blade he had purchased in Aoran but the Sarutobi mourned the memento still.
Itachi had also lost his blade when he sacrificed it in order to defeat Hoji in their friendly spar but this was the last thing on his mind. After all, it wasn’t a gift or anything. He was still pretty concerned about that string, which actually was a gift from Mitsuki on his twelfth birthday. With a deep breath, he resolved to ask Hoji about it. After all, they were but mere minutes away from Konoha and so whatever insults or snide remarks Sato might rain upon him would only last as long. Itachi kept himself at the rear of the whole procession with Hoji moving directly in front of him, while Sato and Himura were a small distance in front of the Senju, with the team captain and Tenzo at the helm of the group.
Quickly and quietly, he closed some of the distance between himself and the medic so that he was close enough to whisper something to him. The happy go lucky Hoji was peering at a flourish of white flowers blooming abundantly atop a small copse of thin, winding trees some few meters in front of the team, when Itachi gave a soft hiss in order to get his attention. When he turned to the young Uchiha, he was surprised to see that the boy had his right forefinger gently pressed against his own lips, indicating that Hoji be silent.
“Did you see my string—you know, for my hair?” Itachi breathed almost inaudibly.
“What?” asked Hoji in apparent confusion.
“I need to tie my hair.” Itachi raised his voice by a very miniscule degree, supposing that Hoji had not heard him the first time.
“Oh, yeah. That…err..” the Senju muttered and a there was a vacant look in his eyes as he turned his gaze skywards. It seemed he was trying to remember something.
“Well?” Itachi pressed in the same low voice.
“Yeah, I remember now!” Hoji squealed like a kid who had just been handed an ice cream cone. In fact, the medic had spoken so loudly that Itachi thought he felt the trees had shook beneath them. It might have just been a sudden sense of panic. The Senju quickly covered his mouth with both hands when he realized the folly in raising his voice. Luckily, no one seemed to have noticed. Dropping his voice to a more discreet volume, he spoke again, “I have it right here. So you don’t want the others to know about—”
“Exactly.” replied Itachi, cutting him off. Things were going pretty well, the Uchiha thought. He might get away with this after all.
“The embroidery is really nice.” Hoji commented with a kind smile.
“Thank you. May I have it?” Itachi inquired in an impatient tone of voice, trying not to let his anxiety spill over into his expression, while keeping a wary eye on the nearby Sato and Himura, who both seemed oblivious to his interaction with Hoji.
Hoji winked in a not-so-subtle manner then slowly and carefully inserted his right hand into his weapons pouch. He dug around for a few seconds, all of which seemed like endless torture to Itachi, as he glanced frantically back and forth between Hoji and the two individuals just a small distance in front of himself and the medic. Himura or Sato could literally turn around at any moment! After a short while, the Senju’s fingers alighted from the compartment with Itachi’s object of desire between the thumb and the middle one.“Here…”
In a moment it was all to be over, Hoji stretched his hand towards Itachi to deposit the item into his waiting palm. The distance between the Uchiha and his string was reduced to mere centimeters, and then it shrunk to millimeters. However, in a fraction of a second, there was a stir in the air and the string vanished from sight, much to Itachi and Hoji’s shock. It was Himura who had blown it away with a small gust of wind and while it flitted carelessly in the air, Sato, with a quick and precise leap, went for it and deftly took hold of the small piece of fabric. Itachi looked positively astounded as he peered at the Hyuuga’s fisted palm wherein laid his precious string.
“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” bellowed Himura in a merry tone of voice, the Sarutobi now positioned beside Sato, both of them sporting mischievous grins on their faces. By this time of course, Tenzo and Shiko had halted and turned around to find out what was causing a stir among the rest of the team.
Itachi, desperate to quickly put an end to the matter, lunged at Sato as if he sought to kill him, the crimson of his Sharingan already burning in his pupils. He darted his right hand at the Hyuuga’s left, which held the string, but Sato withdrew it with timely speed. The Uchiha and the Hyuuga were then thus engaged in this little wrestling match amidst the treetops—Sato easily foiling Itachi’s attempts to retrieve the object in his possession. At last, Itachi prevailed to some extent, forcing Sato, by some ingenious taijutsu stratagem, to let go of the string. In a frantic attempt to prevent Itachi from gaining total victory in this little game, the Hyuuga rolled up the string into a small ball and hurled it towards Himura, who he knew would not give it to the Uchiha.
Itachi quickly deduced the Hyuuga’s intention and made for the string before Himura—who had also darted for the precious item—could take it. Both shinobi had jumped from two different trees and were now soaring in midair towards the object, their hair thrashing about their faces, desperation and fervent desire gleaming in their eyes. The thin piece of fabric drifted slowly downwards as Itachi’s and HImura’s right hands struck at it from either side, each limb as quick as lightning. But alas, both hands failed to even graze the fabric as Itachi and Himura found themselves suddenly ensnared by many wooden tendrils courtesy of Tenzo. Their fingers were mere inches from the string when they were so effectually restrained, and the object fell right between the duo, into the waiting palm of Shiko who had by that time positioned himself for the catch. He stood horizontally with his feet on the bark of a nearby tree, anchored onto the trunk by chakra. It was in this posture that he caught the small thread of cloth with his right hand while his left remained shoved in his pocket.
Itachi did not even bother to resist his bonds. He knew it was pointless to fight and squabble now that Shiko had gotten hold of the string. This had been exactly what he wanted to avoid and with a defeated sigh, he prepared himself for the worst. The only way he could escape the shower of insults which Sato would rain on him now was if he simply died on the spot. The team captain drew the material closer to his face for a more thorough examination, that familiar crease appearing between his eyebrows which signified the activation of that great, gray engine of discernment resting in his skull. This furrow soon vanished as Shiko came to a full understanding of things, as he always did.
“Release them, Tenzo.” He breathed in a gruff tone, his face expressionless.
The Mokuton user quickly complied, as the wooden tendrils discharged their captives and receded into the nearby trees from which Tenzo had conjured them. Itachi and Himura quickly maneuvered themselves in mid air and regained their footing on different branches of the same tree, which stood directly in front of one on which Shiko was currently positioned. The Sarutobi and the Hyuga looked at their captain expectantly, waiting for him to reveal exactly what the string was all about. The commander leaped towards Itachi, landing gracefully and quietly beside him, and depositing the string into the Uchiha’s palm. At that moment, Sato groaned in disappointment while Hoji sighed in relief. Itachi however, did not know how to react. He certainly had not expected this.
“Act your age next time.” chided Shiko, his eyes burning with that dreadful glare which so often scared Hoji out of his wits, this time the ferocity of his gaze directed at Himura with whom the same effect was achieved; as the Sarutobi suddenly began to perspire with his lips curled in a sheepish and embarrassed grin. The Nara also let his eyes meet Sato’s for a moment, the Hyuga quickly turning away in shame at his downright foolish behavior. Hoji could not resist chuckling lightly at this. “Let’s go.” added Shiko after he had reprimanded his unruly subordinates with merely his steely glare.
While the rest of the team darted forwards, resuming their journey back to the village, Shiko and Itachi lingered on the spot where they stood for a moment in silence, the former staring at the latter with that look of all knowing which made the young Uchiha so uncomfortable. After a few seconds, Shiko smiled, then winked at the boy before he leaped away and joined the others. Itachi was then left alone, staring at the red string of cloth resting on his palm. The footsteps of his comrades became increasingly distant as quick strides carried them homeward and eventually, he could hear nothing of them, the whole forest now completely silent. It did not particularly occur to him that he was still rooted in the same spot; the boy was still trying to wrap his head around the fact that Shiko was actually nice to him just then. Maybe the lean, lethargic Scorpion wasn’t so bad after all, Itachi thought as fingers worked on his hair, binding the lengthy gray-black tresses into a familiar ponytail using the precious keepsake he had received from Mitsuki.
Still, one measly favor could not qualify Shiko for his full trust. Itachi began to consider the possibility that Shiko was only showing him this small kindness in order to make him let his guard down. The Uchiha decided that it would be wise to continue to be wary of the Nara shinobi. With a sigh of relief and a small smile at the whole string debacle coming to a desirable end, Itachi bent his knees and bounded away with a swift and long leap to join the rest of his squad.
Konoha’s gigantic wooden gates loomed before them, imposing, grand and wide-open as it always was. Normally, ANBU did not make use of the regular route in gaining entry and exit from the village. However, Shiko didn’t particularly like the idea of having to weave their way through an exceedingly complex maze of pathways with deadly traps camouflaged at every turn, which would then be followed by an even more complex process of manipulating the Sensory barrier around Konoha such that their entry would not set it off, the team Captain decided that they would enter through the main gate. After all, since they were currently garbed in regular shinobi attire, no one would be able to mark them as ANBU. It was one of the few times that the team was grateful for their leader’s slothfulness.
They sped through the great threshold and were glad to see the familiar hustle and bustle of their hometown, the denizens about their regular business. Peeping from the side of the great mountain which stood at the foremost end of the village, the enormous stone faces of the past four Hokage observed with their unchanging stern expressions, as the team glided over the streets, buildings and the populace, leaping swiftly and sprightly from rooftop to rooftop until they arrived at the Hokage Office Building.
For a moment, Hoji wondered if the faces of those great heroes would look better with smiles etched into them instead of those grim, stoic expressions. After all, if those legends actually were watching over their dear village day and night, it would be something they would be happy about, wouldn’t it? The Senju concluded that eventually they would get bored of doing something so monotonous and unexciting as simply staring at the grand settlement and would at that point adopt the surly expressions which they now wore, so the sculptor of those faces was really just saving time. This was a satisfactory answer to his inquiry so he put it out of his mind.
In short, the Senju was just a little bit insane.
Eventually, they reached at the office of the man himself, the great leader of Konoha. Lingering for a moment at the entrance, Shiko took a deep breath and rapped his thin, bony knuckles on the wooden door.
“Come in.” they heard the muffled voice of the Third.
Taking a deep breath, Shiko pressed firmly on the knob and slowly swung the door open. Each member of the team filed into the office, Shiko entering first and Itachi last, the Uchiha shutting the door behind him.
The office had that distinct scent of tobacco that had become part of the building due to many years of Hiruzen’s habit of indulging in his pipe, and the whole room was brightened by the blazing sunlight pouring in through the large glass windowpanes which covered nearly half of the walls. Hiruzen’s smile was brimming with its usual warmth. The weathered pipe hung at the farthest corner of his mouth between his winkled lips, and a small trail of smoke wafted upwards from it, dispersing into nothing before it could rise above the great broad hat which covered the old man’s hoary head and, along with his long white and red robes, distinguished him as the most powerful man in Konoha.
The Third Hokage, whose frame had become quite emaciated with age and almost made one doubt his revered title, was seated behind his broad wooden desk atop which several stacks of documents were heaped. He was evidently in the process of signing one of these many papers when the ANBU entered, as a pen stood in his right hand. He quickly dropped it and interlocked the fingers of both his bony hands as he looked up at Shiko with a happy gleam in his crinkled, brown eyes.
“Welcome back and congratulations on your success.” the Hokage spoke in a cracked voice. “I’m especially happy to see that not a single life was lost.”
“Yes. Despite all our efforts, it was only luck that brought us all back.” replied the Nara gravely, shoving one hand into his pocket while the other hung limply at his side. “Akakuma was a lot stronger than we expected.”
“I see,” said Hiruzen, scratching the white goatee which hung on his chin as curiosity sparked in his eyes, “I would like to hear your report.”
Shiko delved into a full explanation of their mission, beginning first with the ungodly thunderous roar that quaked their hearts before they even entered Aoran, going on the speak about the horrid situation of the town; how everyone was scared of their own shadow and would not dare step foot outside of their homes at night due to their fear of Akakuma. When he narrated the experience of their first battle with the monster of Aoran, the Hokage’s eyes seemed like they were about to pop out of their sockets; the strength of their foe was so unreal. Shiko also detailed how, after doing their best to alleviate the fears of the town, he and the rest of the team made careful preparations for their next battle and adopted a well formulated strategy based on the little they had deduced of Akakuma’s strengths and weaknesses. Then, the Nara explained how their plans had utterly failed and the Red Devil proved more formidable that they could have ever expected. He finished his report by stating how Itachi had abruptly conquered their enemy with a genjutsu in the blink of an eye, and how Himura was kind enough to behead the beast before Shiko himself sealed it.
“A one second long genjutsu?” the Hokage asked, blinking rapidly as his expression shone with amazement, “that’s incredible! Itachi, is this true?” he inquired as he shifted his gaze away from Shiko to the boy in question.
“Yes…” Itachi replied flatly and looked away in the very next moment.
“That’s unbelievable…” the Hokage muttered, “…impossible…unless…” Again, his eyes were in danger of violently shooting out of his face for a fraction of a second, his jaw also sagging slightly and his pipe nearly falling from his lips. “Unless—anyways, never mind. Incredible. Absolutely incredible!” the man said speaking more to himself. For a moment, he seemed to have forgotten that the team was even present. When he finally bought himself, he turned back to Shiko.
“What about our shinobi who were killed by Akakuma? Those poor Chunnins…”
“Arrangements have already been made for the bodies to be brought to Konoha for proper burial. They should be here in about a day or two.” The Nara replied quickly. “I will also hand in a written report in order to detail other aspects of our mission. I assume we’re dismissed?”
Hiruzen had been glancing furtively at Itachi—who had firmly kept his eyes fixed on a spot on the ceiling—while Shiko was speaking, and the old man seemed to be lost in deep thought as his brows were knitted above his deep set, brown eyes, which had a grave look about them. The Nara’s question seemed to jolt him back to reality after a moment.
“Yes! Yes, dismissed.”
“Good.” said Shiko with a pleased smile. He turned to the team and said, “The rest of you are free to go. Itachi, stay back. I would like you and I to speak with the Hokage alone.”
They were all a little startled by this strange instruction, Itachi most of all, as his gaze zipped away from the aged ceiling, and he now stared at Shiko full in the face, expression utterly aghast. With each stealing a surreptitious glance at the young Uchiha every member of the team exited the Hokage’s office very slowly. The last to leave was Hoji and he flashed a soft and encouraging smile at Itachi, winked with his right eye and whispered inaudibly the words, ‘We’ll talk later’, before he shut the door behind him with a thud, which seemed quite ominous as a result of the sudden, tense silence that now filled the Hokage’s office.
This stillness lingered for a few moments as Hiruzen shifted uneasily in his chair, and his eyes shifted uneasily from Shiko to Itachi, the latter standing completely still a small distance behind the former, the Uchiha looking about him awkwardly. Shiko, seemingly in an attempt to alleviate everyone’s apprehensions, curved his lips into a hearty grin, cleared his throat and spoke in a smooth and easy manner, like he was commenting on some simple trifle like the weather or something:
“So, let’s talk about Itachi’s Mangekyo Sharingan.”
There was a silence after that sudden and bold declaration, Itachi and the Hokage both completely flabbergasted as they gaped at the Nara. Shiko noticed their shocked expressions and it seemed to give him some pleasure that he had achieved this effect on the old man and the young boy, for the Black Scorpion’s smile grew wider. His shoulders, which were firm and straight when the rest of the squad was present during his report, now fell into their usual languid and easy state and his body seemed to lean backwards slightly in order to complete the picture of this slothful physiognomy. It made it even more difficult to believe that he was talking about such a weighty matter. The grin did not leave his face as he spoke.
“C’mon, there’s no use denying it, Itachi. You do possess the Mangekyo Sharingan now, don’t you? Hokage-sama, I’m sure you realized it as well.”
The quiet resumed with the Hokage and Shiko now looking at Itachi, waiting patiently for his reply. Though there really was no need for one. Shiko was right, he couldn’t deny it.
“I will only speak to the Hokage.” Itachi said flatly, glaring acidly at Shiko with a cold, indifferent expression.
The Nara only smiled back. “Then, I’ll just stay here and listen.”
“Then, I’ll leave.” Itachi shot back in defiance as he turned sharply and made for the door.
“Wait.” said the Hokage, his tone more gentle than commanding. The Uchiha’s hand was already on the doorknob when he froze in his tracks and took a very deep breath. All the anger melted away at the sound of that soft, tender voice, and Itachi’s whole agitated frame immediately became placid.
“He doesn’t need to know anything.” said Itachi as he turned to the Third with his eyes pleading for the Hokage’s support and at the same time burning with anger at Shiko’s meddling.
“Indeed, I agree that this should only be between you and me,” The Hokage assented, “but Shiko here already knows everything, or he will find out. Withholding information from him will only make him probe deeper. I’m sure as you’ve spent some time with him in the course of your mission, you must have noticed it in his personality. He’s not the kind of man to let these kinds of things go.”
“Unless you make him leave it alone.”
“On what grounds? As you know he is the de facto leader of ANBU, responsible for running the organization and assigning missions. Would it really be wise of me to withhold information on one of his troops from him? When a mission arises, I count on him to choose the most fit ninja for the task. How can he fulfill his duty when he doesn’t have all the information on his operatives?”
Losing more and more of his self control by the second, Itachi raised his voice at Shiko and Hiruzen.“These are secrets of MY clan!”
“Shiko is extremely trustworthy. Your secret would be as safe with him as it would be with me. There are only a handful of people I can say I trust more than him.” The Hokage replied softly, his eyes glimmering with that sincerity and tenderness which endeared him to all his shinobi. Itachi found it hard to resist. The Uchiha was taking quick, shallow breaths as his whole body seemed to quiver with unbridled rage, but as his eyes remained locked with the Third, he felt all of this simmering away.
Shiko was no longer smiling. He had assumed a grave countenance, though he still looked like he was extremely fatigued and sleep deprived, but this was normal for him and meant he was perfectly alright. Noticing that the scale of things was now tipping in his favor, he took this opportunity to speak. “I have no business meddling where I’m not wanted but as the Hokage as made clear, I am needed here. If you really want to keep this a secret, and avoid your teammates realizing this newfound power of yours, or whatever drawbacks that seem to arise from its use, then you need my help. I assign missions. I have an indirect say in just how difficult your missions will be; whether or not they would be sufficient to push you over the edge and force you to use that eye as Akakuma did. I will profit nothing by knowing what your Mangekyo Sharingan can do. It’s you who stands to gain here. Besides, I already know a good deal about the Mangekyo Sharingan and yours specifically. I just need to clarify some things.”
Itachi’s gaze was still far from kind as he eyed Shiko and for an instant, he had to look to the Hokage for some encouragement before he spoke. “What kind of things?”
“Is there an eye technique in your other eye? As we both know, your instantaneous genjutsu originated from your left eye. Does that mean we should expect something from your right?”
“I don’t know…I’ve never used the Mangekyo Sharingan before.”
“Alright. How did you obtain the Mangekyo Sharingan?”
“That’s none of your business.”
“Why did the genjutsu cause you so much pain?”
Hiruzen eyebrows shot up at the question and he looked particularly curious to hear Itachi’s answer, drawing his interlocked fingers up to the bridge of his nose, leaning forward and narrowing his eyes slightly as he eyed the boy keenly. Itachi did not miss this change in the Hokage’s disposition and, after a few moments of silence, took a deep breath then replied, now staring at Shiko:
“I don’t know, as I said, I’ve never used it before.”
The Hokage eyed Itachi doubtfully but the boy’s eyes were locked with Shiko’s. The Nara probed deeply, his sunken eyes seemed to project out of their sockets and delve into Itachi’s with a piercing gaze of unfathomable sharpness. The eyes are a window to the soul, they say, and SHiko seemed to be attempting to peer into Itachi’s. Obviously he doubted the truthfulness of the Uchiha’s answer and was seeking the truth from somewhere other than the boy’s lips.
“So you don’t know anything about the aftereffects—the pain in your eye?” The Nara pressed.
“No, I don’t.” Itachi stated firmly, meeting Shiko’s intense gaze with one as strong and steady as flint. He wasn’t about to let the Nara see through him. He couldn’t let Shiko know about his progressive blindness as a result of the Mangekyo. For all he knew, Shiko had a secret agenda to steal his eyes or something equally nefarious. He had no proof of course, that the Nara was a foe, but he couldn’t exactly classify him as a friend either. He didn’t trust Shiko so it would be ill advised to let a possible enemy learn of his new weakness. By now, he had become familiar with Shiko’s method: his every statement was not so much seeking a reply than probing for a reaction. They were like little sticks which he used to poke and prod an individual under his scrutiny. The slightest tremble, the smallest wince, the most negligible fraction of an instant’s hesitation; these were Scorpion’s tools, his means for unraveling truths which lying lips would only vainly try to conceal from him. But Itachi had come to realize this and thus empowered with this knowledge, he mounted a defense against the Nara. Itachi kept his whole frame firm and steady, but also comfortable and relaxed, his breathing slow and easy, and his eyes locked with his opponent.
“Can I see it?” The Nara asked abruptly.
“What?” Itachi asked, a little confused.
“Can I see your Mangekyo Sharingan?” Shiko repeated, folding his arms at his belly while stroking his small goatee with the fingers of his left hand, with lips curled in a playful smile.
Itachi frowned and narrowed his eyes into menacing slits. “I don’t see the point of that. If you don’t have any more questions, I think I should be on my way. Good day, Hokage-sama.” With that the Uchiha turned and was about to exit the room when the same soft, hoarse voice stilled him once more.
“Itachi,” the Hokage had said, and when Itachi stopped, the elder added, “it is absolutely the saddest thing in the world for young, bright stars like yourselves to fizzle away and die out before they really get the chance to grow and shine with all the glory that their talents and gifts can afford them. On that note, I’m more than happy to see you alive here. This was a very deadly mission but I believe great shinobi are made out of close encounters with Death. Death helps us all to grow as ninja before he finally takes us away. Your new eye is a good example of how we develop and improve by putting our lives on the line and pushing ourselves to the edge. The Mangekyo Sharingan is a useful weapon, but also a dangerous weapon. I would implore you with all of my heart, to try as much as possible not to use it in battle. We will talk again, as always. There are other things I would like to impress on you.”
“Yes, sir.” responded Itachi as he swung open the door, which creaked wearily on its hinges and then stood ajar, allowing the Uchiha to leave. Before he closed it, he stole a final furtive glance at Shiko and saw, to his great horror, that the Nara was staring at him with that same knowing look and that same confident smirk which the Nara wore when he first realized Itachi possessed the Mangekyo Sharingan. Itachi shut the door with a dull thud, drew a great lungful of air and exhaled before he sauntered away slowly with only one question weighing heavily on his heart.
What exactly does that man know?
“Shiko,” began the Hokage some moments after Itachi left, “I know you’re a particularly meddlesome and inquisitive fellow, always seeking the truth of any matter. I say this to your credit because it has made you useful beyond measure to me and to Konoha as a whole. However as your Kage, I am explicitly ordering you to keep your curiosity in check and leave Itachi alone. I have allowed you to interrogate him and he has answered as he saw fit. Let that be the end of this issue. Otherwise, that sharp mind of yours would be your own undoing.” The last sentence was spoken with a threatening tone.
The Nara was still smiling with eyes fixed on the closed door by which Itachi had took his leave, and he gave no reply. Forming a sign with his left hand, the Black Scorpion of ANBU wordlessly took his leave via the Body Flicker technique, leaving the Hokage in his office to recline back in his chair and enjoy the company of his trusted tobacco and pipe, as well as his thoughts.
Hiruzen pondered on this new development. In truth he had suspected that Itachi had already awakened the Mangekyo Sharingan. When Itachi once came and told him of an incident where three Police Force shinobi came to his home and accused him of murdering Shisui, how, after defeating the three at once, his father arrived and his younger brother Sasuke pleaded for him to stop fighting, how he complied but looked at his father with hatred and anger and sensed a great deal of new power surging in his eyes for a passing moment, Hiruzen suspected that it was a Mangekyo Sharingan. Although he did not know exactly how this new eye came about, how could he call himself the Professor of all Ninjutsu in Konoha in he could not boast of some knowledge of the powerful secret technique belonging to one of the village’s most popular and renowned clans.
What he knew about this higher dojutsu was limited, but the Hokage was privy enough to realize that Itachi was now in a very grave and dangerous position and that the responsibility of housing such a powerful eye was almost equal to Itachi’s other burden relating to his clan. After all, was it not the power of the Mangekyo Sharingan that allowed the now deceased former leader of the Uchiha clan, Uchiha Madara, to go toe-to-toe with the God of Shinobi and First Hokage, Senju Hashirama? Hiruzen shuddered to think that a twelve year old boy now wielded the power to control the Nine Tails. And when he considered the drawback of using that dojutsu—eventual blindness—his heart broke for Itachi.
Anxiety seemed to compass him all round like darkness but there was a ray of hope which pierced through the overwhelming blackness, and that light of promise was that it was none other than Itachi who wielded this power. Young as this prodigy was, Hiruzen had a great deal a faith in him. While Fate did wrong in sending him a disciple as rotten and corrupt as Orochimaru, with Akakuma’s existence just counting as one of the Sannin’s many misdeeds, or a comrade as difficult to deal with as Shimura Danzo, Destiny was sometimes pleased to bless him with loyal and gifted ninja like his student Jiraiya, and his now deceased successor, the Fourth Hokage, and, without a doubt, the young lad Uchiha Itachi, whose age did not render him inferior to any of the other shinobi Hiruzen considered saviors of Konoha. Young and frail as he was, Itachi’s shoulders have proved that they were firm enough to bear a great deal, and even if the weight of his responsibilities proved too much for him, Hiruzen would make sure that his hands, though much feebler with age, would be there to support the boy.
Konoha was a great singular machinery, whose wheels and gears were the brave and skilled shinobi that peopled it, and the Hokage sincerely believed that as long as they remained united in fervent love, under the banner of the Will of Fire, they would never be shaken or destroyed. This new dojutsu was powerful and, as his predecessor, the Second Hokage, was apt to it; cursed. But Hiruzen vowed to protect and keep Itachi from its dangers. After all, that was his duty as Hokage; to bear up to next generation until they were strong enough to stand on their own. And Hiruzen had no doubt that Itachi would one day stand as a great hero for Konoha whose accomplishments could possibly far eclipse his own. Comforted by these thoughts, the Hokage lifted his long, ancient pipe to take a soothing drag. The tip was just an inch from his lips when something arose in his mind that kept him frozen where he sat.
It was the person of Nara Shiko, otherwise known for the dreadful sobriquet Black Scorpion.
How he had earned this nickname was a story which even Hokage found hard to believe, and it was a testament of just how dangerous he could be to those he considered as enemies or threats to Konoha. Hiruzen began to fear that Shiko was beginning to paint Itachi in this light. Of course he knew that if Shiko investigated Itachi’s character and affairs, there was no chance that he would find anything sinister. But the Hokage feared that he would find out Itachi’s other secrets—secrets regarding the Uchiha clan’s looming insurrection. This was why he simply ordered the man to leave the boy alone.
Now, the Black Scorpion was not so filled with his own ways that he would outright defy the Hokage like Danzo because of his own opinion and beliefs, but still Hiruzen worried. Shiko’s curiosity was the most powerful and prevalent aspect of his whole character, and his ability to satiate it was his greatest strength. He could probably find a needle in a haystack if the haystack was placed in an ocean of haystacks, and he would do it blindfolded. And if he couldn’t do it, then you could be sure he would spend every moment of his existence designing plans on how to do it until that needle was successfully extracted or he was dead. He had something of Jiraiya’s incredible tenacity when it came to mysteries. Here Itachi’s secrets and abilities was the needle and everything hindering him from unraveling them were represented by the blindfold and the haystacks. If there was one thing Hiruzen really feared, it was Shiko taking it upon himself to unravel Itachi and everything about him, and this was because the Hokage knew the Nara would most likely succeed.
With a weary, exasperated sigh Hiruzen did take that drag of his pipe and his expression was very melancholy as he looked out the window and observed the stone faces of his two predecessors, himself and his lone successor, paying special attention to the latter and wondering if perhaps the situation in Konoha between the Uchiha and the village’s government would be better if that spiky blonde head was wearing the revered Hokage hat, and Konoha was overseen by those bright cerulean eyes, rather than the dim gaze of a balding, hoary headed, tired old man.
Then, there would be no twelve year old boy having to suffer the burden of choosing between his own flesh and blood, and his ideals and village.
The wisps of smoke which had erupted from the horn of his pipe were already fading away before his eyes and Hiruzen decided to dispel that fantasy like the smoke. The Fourth was dead, having given his life for Konoha, and he, Sarutobi Hiruzen, the Third Hokage, was here to preserve that man’s legacy, a legacy which his former teachers, the First and the Second, had also entrusted him with. There was neither the time nor place for whining about difficulties. As a shinobi, the Hokage had to endure. The Hokage had to do anything and everything, and even more, for Konoha.
To Be Continued
Itachi faced a very delicate situation. It was one which neither shinobi training nor genius mind could help him successfully deal with; he was yet to recover the string which bound his ponytail. Simple as it might seem, this was a position that required utmost carefulness and discretion. If he were to, for example, make the dreadful and irreparable mistake of asking Sato about it, he would be replied with jeers and teasing that would make his even his bones grind in annoyance. After all, Mitsuki embroidered her name on the inner lining of the fabric. Also, there was a grave danger in putting the question to Hoji. Good natured as he was, the Senju was quite silly and naïve sometimes. It was highly possible that Hoji would make so much noise over the matter and Sato would hear, leading to the aforementioned bone grinding mockery. It would be foolishness to put the question to Shiko; there was no way the team captain could ever be bothered with something so trivial and vain. He would probably reprimand Itachi for even caring about the string. Moreover, Itachi was doing his best to avoid the ANBU’s Black Scorpion. Tenzo could definitely be discreet about something like this; he was likely more mature than the whole team combined but it was almost certain that he would not know the whereabouts of that which Itachi sought. Himura…well, Itachi simply wasn’t sure about him.
For twenty minutes they leaped towards Konoha, silent most of the time. This stillness was broken when Tenzo and Shiko—who were side by side—exchanged a word or two about how they would give their report and how pleased the Hokage would be with the outcome of their assignment. Hoji seemed to be distracted by every peculiar plant they whizzed past; admiring the colorful flower petals and strangely shaped leaves with a childish wonder, mumbling sometimes to himself about the possible medical and aesthetical uses of each one. Sometimes, Sato was pleased to make sly comment about the lack of manliness in the Senju’s actions and the slighted medic would always shoot back with something equally as stinging, but Shiko would silence both with his one of his dreadful glares before they fell into a bout of bickering. Himura only spoke once, commenting dolefully about his the sword which Akakuma broke in two and how it was a gift from his master. He had quickly replaced it with another commonplace samurai blade he had purchased in Aoran but the Sarutobi mourned the memento still.
Itachi had also lost his blade when he sacrificed it in order to defeat Hoji in their friendly spar but this was the last thing on his mind. After all, it wasn’t a gift or anything. He was still pretty concerned about that string, which actually was a gift from Mitsuki on his twelfth birthday. With a deep breath, he resolved to ask Hoji about it. After all, they were but mere minutes away from Konoha and so whatever insults or snide remarks Sato might rain upon him would only last as long. Itachi kept himself at the rear of the whole procession with Hoji moving directly in front of him, while Sato and Himura were a small distance in front of the Senju, with the team captain and Tenzo at the helm of the group.
Quickly and quietly, he closed some of the distance between himself and the medic so that he was close enough to whisper something to him. The happy go lucky Hoji was peering at a flourish of white flowers blooming abundantly atop a small copse of thin, winding trees some few meters in front of the team, when Itachi gave a soft hiss in order to get his attention. When he turned to the young Uchiha, he was surprised to see that the boy had his right forefinger gently pressed against his own lips, indicating that Hoji be silent.
“Did you see my string—you know, for my hair?” Itachi breathed almost inaudibly.
“What?” asked Hoji in apparent confusion.
“I need to tie my hair.” Itachi raised his voice by a very miniscule degree, supposing that Hoji had not heard him the first time.
“Oh, yeah. That…err..” the Senju muttered and a there was a vacant look in his eyes as he turned his gaze skywards. It seemed he was trying to remember something.
“Well?” Itachi pressed in the same low voice.
“Yeah, I remember now!” Hoji squealed like a kid who had just been handed an ice cream cone. In fact, the medic had spoken so loudly that Itachi thought he felt the trees had shook beneath them. It might have just been a sudden sense of panic. The Senju quickly covered his mouth with both hands when he realized the folly in raising his voice. Luckily, no one seemed to have noticed. Dropping his voice to a more discreet volume, he spoke again, “I have it right here. So you don’t want the others to know about—”
“Exactly.” replied Itachi, cutting him off. Things were going pretty well, the Uchiha thought. He might get away with this after all.
“The embroidery is really nice.” Hoji commented with a kind smile.
“Thank you. May I have it?” Itachi inquired in an impatient tone of voice, trying not to let his anxiety spill over into his expression, while keeping a wary eye on the nearby Sato and Himura, who both seemed oblivious to his interaction with Hoji.
Hoji winked in a not-so-subtle manner then slowly and carefully inserted his right hand into his weapons pouch. He dug around for a few seconds, all of which seemed like endless torture to Itachi, as he glanced frantically back and forth between Hoji and the two individuals just a small distance in front of himself and the medic. Himura or Sato could literally turn around at any moment! After a short while, the Senju’s fingers alighted from the compartment with Itachi’s object of desire between the thumb and the middle one.“Here…”
In a moment it was all to be over, Hoji stretched his hand towards Itachi to deposit the item into his waiting palm. The distance between the Uchiha and his string was reduced to mere centimeters, and then it shrunk to millimeters. However, in a fraction of a second, there was a stir in the air and the string vanished from sight, much to Itachi and Hoji’s shock. It was Himura who had blown it away with a small gust of wind and while it flitted carelessly in the air, Sato, with a quick and precise leap, went for it and deftly took hold of the small piece of fabric. Itachi looked positively astounded as he peered at the Hyuuga’s fisted palm wherein laid his precious string.
“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” bellowed Himura in a merry tone of voice, the Sarutobi now positioned beside Sato, both of them sporting mischievous grins on their faces. By this time of course, Tenzo and Shiko had halted and turned around to find out what was causing a stir among the rest of the team.
Itachi, desperate to quickly put an end to the matter, lunged at Sato as if he sought to kill him, the crimson of his Sharingan already burning in his pupils. He darted his right hand at the Hyuuga’s left, which held the string, but Sato withdrew it with timely speed. The Uchiha and the Hyuuga were then thus engaged in this little wrestling match amidst the treetops—Sato easily foiling Itachi’s attempts to retrieve the object in his possession. At last, Itachi prevailed to some extent, forcing Sato, by some ingenious taijutsu stratagem, to let go of the string. In a frantic attempt to prevent Itachi from gaining total victory in this little game, the Hyuuga rolled up the string into a small ball and hurled it towards Himura, who he knew would not give it to the Uchiha.
Itachi quickly deduced the Hyuuga’s intention and made for the string before Himura—who had also darted for the precious item—could take it. Both shinobi had jumped from two different trees and were now soaring in midair towards the object, their hair thrashing about their faces, desperation and fervent desire gleaming in their eyes. The thin piece of fabric drifted slowly downwards as Itachi’s and HImura’s right hands struck at it from either side, each limb as quick as lightning. But alas, both hands failed to even graze the fabric as Itachi and Himura found themselves suddenly ensnared by many wooden tendrils courtesy of Tenzo. Their fingers were mere inches from the string when they were so effectually restrained, and the object fell right between the duo, into the waiting palm of Shiko who had by that time positioned himself for the catch. He stood horizontally with his feet on the bark of a nearby tree, anchored onto the trunk by chakra. It was in this posture that he caught the small thread of cloth with his right hand while his left remained shoved in his pocket.
Itachi did not even bother to resist his bonds. He knew it was pointless to fight and squabble now that Shiko had gotten hold of the string. This had been exactly what he wanted to avoid and with a defeated sigh, he prepared himself for the worst. The only way he could escape the shower of insults which Sato would rain on him now was if he simply died on the spot. The team captain drew the material closer to his face for a more thorough examination, that familiar crease appearing between his eyebrows which signified the activation of that great, gray engine of discernment resting in his skull. This furrow soon vanished as Shiko came to a full understanding of things, as he always did.
“Release them, Tenzo.” He breathed in a gruff tone, his face expressionless.
The Mokuton user quickly complied, as the wooden tendrils discharged their captives and receded into the nearby trees from which Tenzo had conjured them. Itachi and Himura quickly maneuvered themselves in mid air and regained their footing on different branches of the same tree, which stood directly in front of one on which Shiko was currently positioned. The Sarutobi and the Hyuga looked at their captain expectantly, waiting for him to reveal exactly what the string was all about. The commander leaped towards Itachi, landing gracefully and quietly beside him, and depositing the string into the Uchiha’s palm. At that moment, Sato groaned in disappointment while Hoji sighed in relief. Itachi however, did not know how to react. He certainly had not expected this.
“Act your age next time.” chided Shiko, his eyes burning with that dreadful glare which so often scared Hoji out of his wits, this time the ferocity of his gaze directed at Himura with whom the same effect was achieved; as the Sarutobi suddenly began to perspire with his lips curled in a sheepish and embarrassed grin. The Nara also let his eyes meet Sato’s for a moment, the Hyuga quickly turning away in shame at his downright foolish behavior. Hoji could not resist chuckling lightly at this. “Let’s go.” added Shiko after he had reprimanded his unruly subordinates with merely his steely glare.
While the rest of the team darted forwards, resuming their journey back to the village, Shiko and Itachi lingered on the spot where they stood for a moment in silence, the former staring at the latter with that look of all knowing which made the young Uchiha so uncomfortable. After a few seconds, Shiko smiled, then winked at the boy before he leaped away and joined the others. Itachi was then left alone, staring at the red string of cloth resting on his palm. The footsteps of his comrades became increasingly distant as quick strides carried them homeward and eventually, he could hear nothing of them, the whole forest now completely silent. It did not particularly occur to him that he was still rooted in the same spot; the boy was still trying to wrap his head around the fact that Shiko was actually nice to him just then. Maybe the lean, lethargic Scorpion wasn’t so bad after all, Itachi thought as fingers worked on his hair, binding the lengthy gray-black tresses into a familiar ponytail using the precious keepsake he had received from Mitsuki.
Still, one measly favor could not qualify Shiko for his full trust. Itachi began to consider the possibility that Shiko was only showing him this small kindness in order to make him let his guard down. The Uchiha decided that it would be wise to continue to be wary of the Nara shinobi. With a sigh of relief and a small smile at the whole string debacle coming to a desirable end, Itachi bent his knees and bounded away with a swift and long leap to join the rest of his squad.
Konoha’s gigantic wooden gates loomed before them, imposing, grand and wide-open as it always was. Normally, ANBU did not make use of the regular route in gaining entry and exit from the village. However, Shiko didn’t particularly like the idea of having to weave their way through an exceedingly complex maze of pathways with deadly traps camouflaged at every turn, which would then be followed by an even more complex process of manipulating the Sensory barrier around Konoha such that their entry would not set it off, the team Captain decided that they would enter through the main gate. After all, since they were currently garbed in regular shinobi attire, no one would be able to mark them as ANBU. It was one of the few times that the team was grateful for their leader’s slothfulness.
They sped through the great threshold and were glad to see the familiar hustle and bustle of their hometown, the denizens about their regular business. Peeping from the side of the great mountain which stood at the foremost end of the village, the enormous stone faces of the past four Hokage observed with their unchanging stern expressions, as the team glided over the streets, buildings and the populace, leaping swiftly and sprightly from rooftop to rooftop until they arrived at the Hokage Office Building.
For a moment, Hoji wondered if the faces of those great heroes would look better with smiles etched into them instead of those grim, stoic expressions. After all, if those legends actually were watching over their dear village day and night, it would be something they would be happy about, wouldn’t it? The Senju concluded that eventually they would get bored of doing something so monotonous and unexciting as simply staring at the grand settlement and would at that point adopt the surly expressions which they now wore, so the sculptor of those faces was really just saving time. This was a satisfactory answer to his inquiry so he put it out of his mind.
In short, the Senju was just a little bit insane.
Eventually, they reached at the office of the man himself, the great leader of Konoha. Lingering for a moment at the entrance, Shiko took a deep breath and rapped his thin, bony knuckles on the wooden door.
“Come in.” they heard the muffled voice of the Third.
Taking a deep breath, Shiko pressed firmly on the knob and slowly swung the door open. Each member of the team filed into the office, Shiko entering first and Itachi last, the Uchiha shutting the door behind him.
The office had that distinct scent of tobacco that had become part of the building due to many years of Hiruzen’s habit of indulging in his pipe, and the whole room was brightened by the blazing sunlight pouring in through the large glass windowpanes which covered nearly half of the walls. Hiruzen’s smile was brimming with its usual warmth. The weathered pipe hung at the farthest corner of his mouth between his winkled lips, and a small trail of smoke wafted upwards from it, dispersing into nothing before it could rise above the great broad hat which covered the old man’s hoary head and, along with his long white and red robes, distinguished him as the most powerful man in Konoha.
The Third Hokage, whose frame had become quite emaciated with age and almost made one doubt his revered title, was seated behind his broad wooden desk atop which several stacks of documents were heaped. He was evidently in the process of signing one of these many papers when the ANBU entered, as a pen stood in his right hand. He quickly dropped it and interlocked the fingers of both his bony hands as he looked up at Shiko with a happy gleam in his crinkled, brown eyes.
“Welcome back and congratulations on your success.” the Hokage spoke in a cracked voice. “I’m especially happy to see that not a single life was lost.”
“Yes. Despite all our efforts, it was only luck that brought us all back.” replied the Nara gravely, shoving one hand into his pocket while the other hung limply at his side. “Akakuma was a lot stronger than we expected.”
“I see,” said Hiruzen, scratching the white goatee which hung on his chin as curiosity sparked in his eyes, “I would like to hear your report.”
Shiko delved into a full explanation of their mission, beginning first with the ungodly thunderous roar that quaked their hearts before they even entered Aoran, going on the speak about the horrid situation of the town; how everyone was scared of their own shadow and would not dare step foot outside of their homes at night due to their fear of Akakuma. When he narrated the experience of their first battle with the monster of Aoran, the Hokage’s eyes seemed like they were about to pop out of their sockets; the strength of their foe was so unreal. Shiko also detailed how, after doing their best to alleviate the fears of the town, he and the rest of the team made careful preparations for their next battle and adopted a well formulated strategy based on the little they had deduced of Akakuma’s strengths and weaknesses. Then, the Nara explained how their plans had utterly failed and the Red Devil proved more formidable that they could have ever expected. He finished his report by stating how Itachi had abruptly conquered their enemy with a genjutsu in the blink of an eye, and how Himura was kind enough to behead the beast before Shiko himself sealed it.
“A one second long genjutsu?” the Hokage asked, blinking rapidly as his expression shone with amazement, “that’s incredible! Itachi, is this true?” he inquired as he shifted his gaze away from Shiko to the boy in question.
“Yes…” Itachi replied flatly and looked away in the very next moment.
“That’s unbelievable…” the Hokage muttered, “…impossible…unless…” Again, his eyes were in danger of violently shooting out of his face for a fraction of a second, his jaw also sagging slightly and his pipe nearly falling from his lips. “Unless—anyways, never mind. Incredible. Absolutely incredible!” the man said speaking more to himself. For a moment, he seemed to have forgotten that the team was even present. When he finally bought himself, he turned back to Shiko.
“What about our shinobi who were killed by Akakuma? Those poor Chunnins…”
“Arrangements have already been made for the bodies to be brought to Konoha for proper burial. They should be here in about a day or two.” The Nara replied quickly. “I will also hand in a written report in order to detail other aspects of our mission. I assume we’re dismissed?”
Hiruzen had been glancing furtively at Itachi—who had firmly kept his eyes fixed on a spot on the ceiling—while Shiko was speaking, and the old man seemed to be lost in deep thought as his brows were knitted above his deep set, brown eyes, which had a grave look about them. The Nara’s question seemed to jolt him back to reality after a moment.
“Yes! Yes, dismissed.”
“Good.” said Shiko with a pleased smile. He turned to the team and said, “The rest of you are free to go. Itachi, stay back. I would like you and I to speak with the Hokage alone.”
They were all a little startled by this strange instruction, Itachi most of all, as his gaze zipped away from the aged ceiling, and he now stared at Shiko full in the face, expression utterly aghast. With each stealing a surreptitious glance at the young Uchiha every member of the team exited the Hokage’s office very slowly. The last to leave was Hoji and he flashed a soft and encouraging smile at Itachi, winked with his right eye and whispered inaudibly the words, ‘We’ll talk later’, before he shut the door behind him with a thud, which seemed quite ominous as a result of the sudden, tense silence that now filled the Hokage’s office.
This stillness lingered for a few moments as Hiruzen shifted uneasily in his chair, and his eyes shifted uneasily from Shiko to Itachi, the latter standing completely still a small distance behind the former, the Uchiha looking about him awkwardly. Shiko, seemingly in an attempt to alleviate everyone’s apprehensions, curved his lips into a hearty grin, cleared his throat and spoke in a smooth and easy manner, like he was commenting on some simple trifle like the weather or something:
“So, let’s talk about Itachi’s Mangekyo Sharingan.”
There was a silence after that sudden and bold declaration, Itachi and the Hokage both completely flabbergasted as they gaped at the Nara. Shiko noticed their shocked expressions and it seemed to give him some pleasure that he had achieved this effect on the old man and the young boy, for the Black Scorpion’s smile grew wider. His shoulders, which were firm and straight when the rest of the squad was present during his report, now fell into their usual languid and easy state and his body seemed to lean backwards slightly in order to complete the picture of this slothful physiognomy. It made it even more difficult to believe that he was talking about such a weighty matter. The grin did not leave his face as he spoke.
“C’mon, there’s no use denying it, Itachi. You do possess the Mangekyo Sharingan now, don’t you? Hokage-sama, I’m sure you realized it as well.”
The quiet resumed with the Hokage and Shiko now looking at Itachi, waiting patiently for his reply. Though there really was no need for one. Shiko was right, he couldn’t deny it.
“I will only speak to the Hokage.” Itachi said flatly, glaring acidly at Shiko with a cold, indifferent expression.
The Nara only smiled back. “Then, I’ll just stay here and listen.”
“Then, I’ll leave.” Itachi shot back in defiance as he turned sharply and made for the door.
“Wait.” said the Hokage, his tone more gentle than commanding. The Uchiha’s hand was already on the doorknob when he froze in his tracks and took a very deep breath. All the anger melted away at the sound of that soft, tender voice, and Itachi’s whole agitated frame immediately became placid.
“He doesn’t need to know anything.” said Itachi as he turned to the Third with his eyes pleading for the Hokage’s support and at the same time burning with anger at Shiko’s meddling.
“Indeed, I agree that this should only be between you and me,” The Hokage assented, “but Shiko here already knows everything, or he will find out. Withholding information from him will only make him probe deeper. I’m sure as you’ve spent some time with him in the course of your mission, you must have noticed it in his personality. He’s not the kind of man to let these kinds of things go.”
“Unless you make him leave it alone.”
“On what grounds? As you know he is the de facto leader of ANBU, responsible for running the organization and assigning missions. Would it really be wise of me to withhold information on one of his troops from him? When a mission arises, I count on him to choose the most fit ninja for the task. How can he fulfill his duty when he doesn’t have all the information on his operatives?”
Losing more and more of his self control by the second, Itachi raised his voice at Shiko and Hiruzen.“These are secrets of MY clan!”
“Shiko is extremely trustworthy. Your secret would be as safe with him as it would be with me. There are only a handful of people I can say I trust more than him.” The Hokage replied softly, his eyes glimmering with that sincerity and tenderness which endeared him to all his shinobi. Itachi found it hard to resist. The Uchiha was taking quick, shallow breaths as his whole body seemed to quiver with unbridled rage, but as his eyes remained locked with the Third, he felt all of this simmering away.
Shiko was no longer smiling. He had assumed a grave countenance, though he still looked like he was extremely fatigued and sleep deprived, but this was normal for him and meant he was perfectly alright. Noticing that the scale of things was now tipping in his favor, he took this opportunity to speak. “I have no business meddling where I’m not wanted but as the Hokage as made clear, I am needed here. If you really want to keep this a secret, and avoid your teammates realizing this newfound power of yours, or whatever drawbacks that seem to arise from its use, then you need my help. I assign missions. I have an indirect say in just how difficult your missions will be; whether or not they would be sufficient to push you over the edge and force you to use that eye as Akakuma did. I will profit nothing by knowing what your Mangekyo Sharingan can do. It’s you who stands to gain here. Besides, I already know a good deal about the Mangekyo Sharingan and yours specifically. I just need to clarify some things.”
Itachi’s gaze was still far from kind as he eyed Shiko and for an instant, he had to look to the Hokage for some encouragement before he spoke. “What kind of things?”
“Is there an eye technique in your other eye? As we both know, your instantaneous genjutsu originated from your left eye. Does that mean we should expect something from your right?”
“I don’t know…I’ve never used the Mangekyo Sharingan before.”
“Alright. How did you obtain the Mangekyo Sharingan?”
“That’s none of your business.”
“Why did the genjutsu cause you so much pain?”
Hiruzen eyebrows shot up at the question and he looked particularly curious to hear Itachi’s answer, drawing his interlocked fingers up to the bridge of his nose, leaning forward and narrowing his eyes slightly as he eyed the boy keenly. Itachi did not miss this change in the Hokage’s disposition and, after a few moments of silence, took a deep breath then replied, now staring at Shiko:
“I don’t know, as I said, I’ve never used it before.”
The Hokage eyed Itachi doubtfully but the boy’s eyes were locked with Shiko’s. The Nara probed deeply, his sunken eyes seemed to project out of their sockets and delve into Itachi’s with a piercing gaze of unfathomable sharpness. The eyes are a window to the soul, they say, and SHiko seemed to be attempting to peer into Itachi’s. Obviously he doubted the truthfulness of the Uchiha’s answer and was seeking the truth from somewhere other than the boy’s lips.
“So you don’t know anything about the aftereffects—the pain in your eye?” The Nara pressed.
“No, I don’t.” Itachi stated firmly, meeting Shiko’s intense gaze with one as strong and steady as flint. He wasn’t about to let the Nara see through him. He couldn’t let Shiko know about his progressive blindness as a result of the Mangekyo. For all he knew, Shiko had a secret agenda to steal his eyes or something equally nefarious. He had no proof of course, that the Nara was a foe, but he couldn’t exactly classify him as a friend either. He didn’t trust Shiko so it would be ill advised to let a possible enemy learn of his new weakness. By now, he had become familiar with Shiko’s method: his every statement was not so much seeking a reply than probing for a reaction. They were like little sticks which he used to poke and prod an individual under his scrutiny. The slightest tremble, the smallest wince, the most negligible fraction of an instant’s hesitation; these were Scorpion’s tools, his means for unraveling truths which lying lips would only vainly try to conceal from him. But Itachi had come to realize this and thus empowered with this knowledge, he mounted a defense against the Nara. Itachi kept his whole frame firm and steady, but also comfortable and relaxed, his breathing slow and easy, and his eyes locked with his opponent.
“Can I see it?” The Nara asked abruptly.
“What?” Itachi asked, a little confused.
“Can I see your Mangekyo Sharingan?” Shiko repeated, folding his arms at his belly while stroking his small goatee with the fingers of his left hand, with lips curled in a playful smile.
Itachi frowned and narrowed his eyes into menacing slits. “I don’t see the point of that. If you don’t have any more questions, I think I should be on my way. Good day, Hokage-sama.” With that the Uchiha turned and was about to exit the room when the same soft, hoarse voice stilled him once more.
“Itachi,” the Hokage had said, and when Itachi stopped, the elder added, “it is absolutely the saddest thing in the world for young, bright stars like yourselves to fizzle away and die out before they really get the chance to grow and shine with all the glory that their talents and gifts can afford them. On that note, I’m more than happy to see you alive here. This was a very deadly mission but I believe great shinobi are made out of close encounters with Death. Death helps us all to grow as ninja before he finally takes us away. Your new eye is a good example of how we develop and improve by putting our lives on the line and pushing ourselves to the edge. The Mangekyo Sharingan is a useful weapon, but also a dangerous weapon. I would implore you with all of my heart, to try as much as possible not to use it in battle. We will talk again, as always. There are other things I would like to impress on you.”
“Yes, sir.” responded Itachi as he swung open the door, which creaked wearily on its hinges and then stood ajar, allowing the Uchiha to leave. Before he closed it, he stole a final furtive glance at Shiko and saw, to his great horror, that the Nara was staring at him with that same knowing look and that same confident smirk which the Nara wore when he first realized Itachi possessed the Mangekyo Sharingan. Itachi shut the door with a dull thud, drew a great lungful of air and exhaled before he sauntered away slowly with only one question weighing heavily on his heart.
What exactly does that man know?
00000
“Shiko,” began the Hokage some moments after Itachi left, “I know you’re a particularly meddlesome and inquisitive fellow, always seeking the truth of any matter. I say this to your credit because it has made you useful beyond measure to me and to Konoha as a whole. However as your Kage, I am explicitly ordering you to keep your curiosity in check and leave Itachi alone. I have allowed you to interrogate him and he has answered as he saw fit. Let that be the end of this issue. Otherwise, that sharp mind of yours would be your own undoing.” The last sentence was spoken with a threatening tone.
The Nara was still smiling with eyes fixed on the closed door by which Itachi had took his leave, and he gave no reply. Forming a sign with his left hand, the Black Scorpion of ANBU wordlessly took his leave via the Body Flicker technique, leaving the Hokage in his office to recline back in his chair and enjoy the company of his trusted tobacco and pipe, as well as his thoughts.
Hiruzen pondered on this new development. In truth he had suspected that Itachi had already awakened the Mangekyo Sharingan. When Itachi once came and told him of an incident where three Police Force shinobi came to his home and accused him of murdering Shisui, how, after defeating the three at once, his father arrived and his younger brother Sasuke pleaded for him to stop fighting, how he complied but looked at his father with hatred and anger and sensed a great deal of new power surging in his eyes for a passing moment, Hiruzen suspected that it was a Mangekyo Sharingan. Although he did not know exactly how this new eye came about, how could he call himself the Professor of all Ninjutsu in Konoha in he could not boast of some knowledge of the powerful secret technique belonging to one of the village’s most popular and renowned clans.
What he knew about this higher dojutsu was limited, but the Hokage was privy enough to realize that Itachi was now in a very grave and dangerous position and that the responsibility of housing such a powerful eye was almost equal to Itachi’s other burden relating to his clan. After all, was it not the power of the Mangekyo Sharingan that allowed the now deceased former leader of the Uchiha clan, Uchiha Madara, to go toe-to-toe with the God of Shinobi and First Hokage, Senju Hashirama? Hiruzen shuddered to think that a twelve year old boy now wielded the power to control the Nine Tails. And when he considered the drawback of using that dojutsu—eventual blindness—his heart broke for Itachi.
Anxiety seemed to compass him all round like darkness but there was a ray of hope which pierced through the overwhelming blackness, and that light of promise was that it was none other than Itachi who wielded this power. Young as this prodigy was, Hiruzen had a great deal a faith in him. While Fate did wrong in sending him a disciple as rotten and corrupt as Orochimaru, with Akakuma’s existence just counting as one of the Sannin’s many misdeeds, or a comrade as difficult to deal with as Shimura Danzo, Destiny was sometimes pleased to bless him with loyal and gifted ninja like his student Jiraiya, and his now deceased successor, the Fourth Hokage, and, without a doubt, the young lad Uchiha Itachi, whose age did not render him inferior to any of the other shinobi Hiruzen considered saviors of Konoha. Young and frail as he was, Itachi’s shoulders have proved that they were firm enough to bear a great deal, and even if the weight of his responsibilities proved too much for him, Hiruzen would make sure that his hands, though much feebler with age, would be there to support the boy.
Konoha was a great singular machinery, whose wheels and gears were the brave and skilled shinobi that peopled it, and the Hokage sincerely believed that as long as they remained united in fervent love, under the banner of the Will of Fire, they would never be shaken or destroyed. This new dojutsu was powerful and, as his predecessor, the Second Hokage, was apt to it; cursed. But Hiruzen vowed to protect and keep Itachi from its dangers. After all, that was his duty as Hokage; to bear up to next generation until they were strong enough to stand on their own. And Hiruzen had no doubt that Itachi would one day stand as a great hero for Konoha whose accomplishments could possibly far eclipse his own. Comforted by these thoughts, the Hokage lifted his long, ancient pipe to take a soothing drag. The tip was just an inch from his lips when something arose in his mind that kept him frozen where he sat.
It was the person of Nara Shiko, otherwise known for the dreadful sobriquet Black Scorpion.
How he had earned this nickname was a story which even Hokage found hard to believe, and it was a testament of just how dangerous he could be to those he considered as enemies or threats to Konoha. Hiruzen began to fear that Shiko was beginning to paint Itachi in this light. Of course he knew that if Shiko investigated Itachi’s character and affairs, there was no chance that he would find anything sinister. But the Hokage feared that he would find out Itachi’s other secrets—secrets regarding the Uchiha clan’s looming insurrection. This was why he simply ordered the man to leave the boy alone.
Now, the Black Scorpion was not so filled with his own ways that he would outright defy the Hokage like Danzo because of his own opinion and beliefs, but still Hiruzen worried. Shiko’s curiosity was the most powerful and prevalent aspect of his whole character, and his ability to satiate it was his greatest strength. He could probably find a needle in a haystack if the haystack was placed in an ocean of haystacks, and he would do it blindfolded. And if he couldn’t do it, then you could be sure he would spend every moment of his existence designing plans on how to do it until that needle was successfully extracted or he was dead. He had something of Jiraiya’s incredible tenacity when it came to mysteries. Here Itachi’s secrets and abilities was the needle and everything hindering him from unraveling them were represented by the blindfold and the haystacks. If there was one thing Hiruzen really feared, it was Shiko taking it upon himself to unravel Itachi and everything about him, and this was because the Hokage knew the Nara would most likely succeed.
With a weary, exasperated sigh Hiruzen did take that drag of his pipe and his expression was very melancholy as he looked out the window and observed the stone faces of his two predecessors, himself and his lone successor, paying special attention to the latter and wondering if perhaps the situation in Konoha between the Uchiha and the village’s government would be better if that spiky blonde head was wearing the revered Hokage hat, and Konoha was overseen by those bright cerulean eyes, rather than the dim gaze of a balding, hoary headed, tired old man.
Then, there would be no twelve year old boy having to suffer the burden of choosing between his own flesh and blood, and his ideals and village.
The wisps of smoke which had erupted from the horn of his pipe were already fading away before his eyes and Hiruzen decided to dispel that fantasy like the smoke. The Fourth was dead, having given his life for Konoha, and he, Sarutobi Hiruzen, the Third Hokage, was here to preserve that man’s legacy, a legacy which his former teachers, the First and the Second, had also entrusted him with. There was neither the time nor place for whining about difficulties. As a shinobi, the Hokage had to endure. The Hokage had to do anything and everything, and even more, for Konoha.
To Be Continued
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You sure you need my help anymore, man? *_*
