The scarecrow and the crow
Chapter 2 Prodigy
“Stay here and be a good boy.”
Itachi looks up to his mother. He wonders why Mikoto would even ask this of him. He’s always careful not to fuss – during breakfast, bath and even playtime with the other children. Seeing this would be the first time that his mother will leave him alone, Itachi immediately came to understand the amount of trust his mother was placing on him and decides to put an extra effort to behave.
Itachi nods, resisting speaking out loud. Whenever he played with them, children his age couldn’t change their voices to the right volume when talking nor construct sentences with more words than the count of their fingers. Itachi could not explain to her why he is different so for now he pretends to be inarticulate. She looks satisfied with his response so Mikoto turned away to the kitchen.
Itachi also pretends to be occupied with the assorted wooden blocks she provided for his entertainment. Recently, his mother acquired a fascination for thought provoking toys – Itachi knows he was to blame. He was usually placid so everyone thinks he has an underdeveloped mind. Especially his father, Itachi remembers.
“My son is not slow.” Mikoto remarked over breakfast. “Even that genius Minato Namikaze graduated academy at age ten.” She laid her chopsticks down in slight anger, appetite lost in the middle of the meal.
Itachi was sitting beside his mother and he could felt the rage boiling in her veins. He supposed his father, who sat in front of her, did not miss it too.
Fugaku continued to eat from his bowl. He remained stoic, dismissing Mikoto’s remark on the face of it. “I met Sakumo’s son.” Fugaku finally commented. He was summoned during midnight to inspect a suspected suicide. During the investigation, he found out something interesting. “He’s only eight and already a chuunin.”
“Poor child.” Mikoto’s focus suddenly shifted and her anger dissipated. She turned her attention towards Itachi; she cannot imagine herself leaving his side. “Orphaned at such a young age.”
“If you have time to worry for dead people’s children, raise your own son properly.” Fugaku was close to scolding his wife, unable to hide his disappointment. Itachi could hear the finality in Fugaku’s voice. “You are raising my heir. Make sure he grows suitable for the head of the Uchiha.”
Itachi senses the hesitation in his mother’s face. Mikoto made a small bow. “Yes, my dear husband.”
When he couldn’t sense his mother’s presence anymore, Itachi breaks the pretence. He makes a mental note to show Fugaku some sort of skill when he arrives tonight. That way, he would not scold Mikoto and the household will be peaceful once again. He just needs to decide which skill would impress Fugaku most.
Itachi puts down the wooden blocks. Although he enjoys construction, Itachi prefers endeavours which are more imaginative in nature. Itachi stands, with posture too regal for any three-year old. He takes purposeful steps towards the middle of the porch. He knows a good view of the inner garden helps him think better.
The day is clear, crisp and cool. Itachi takes a moment to enjoy the sunlight hitting his face. Unlike the past three months, days have become shorter and the nights grow longer. He concludes that the short daylight was causing the temperatures to drop. This makes Itachi anxious - because of the garden, that is. He’s seeing changes and is unsure if the beautiful view would turn sour.
Itachi loved the inner garden most. Unlike the other parts of their home, it burst at the seams with life and activity. He always woke up at the sound of birds chirping excitedly. They visit the garden to eat the fruits of the plants. The plants grew larger each day. Many of the flowers bloomed fully. Butterflies, beetles and other bugs increase in number and variety very quickly. Itachi’s day was filled with hours observing how they move, what they eat, why do they do what they do.
Itachi learned that plants lived in places where there was earth, sunlight, water and wind. For something to exist, certain conditions have to be met. Where the earth is hard or where sunlight doesn’t reach, the plants do not grow. When the water was too much or the wind was too hot, the plants wilted or desiccated.
In that small patch of ground, Itachi was able to grasp the complex concepts in life – birth, growth, harmony and balance. Though caterpillars ate the leaves of the plant, in time they became butterflies that carried the seeds of its flowers. Itachi learned there was purpose in everything.
Now, the flowers’ bright colors are fading. The leaves of the trees are turning to yellows and reds. Birds do not visit the garden as frequently as before. The insects are withdrawing to the ground. The garden does not look like the one from before. It was changing and Itachi can’t help but be burdened at the sight.
Was it sick?
Itachi had become sick too.
Itachi woke up hacking cough, grasping the sheets at his sides as the pain in his throat intensified. He tried to open his eyes and as soon as he did, tears started to flow. His face has incredibly become hot. Itachi knew something was wrong with his body since last night. He had trouble sleeping, feeling as though the room had become too humid and the air, too dense.
He felt the air get denser once more and he immediately felt heavy. He tried to breathe but the mundane task suddenly became difficult. His airways were blocked and he realized he won’t be able to cry for help. With all the strength he could muster, Itachi started pounding on the floor with his hands.
After a few seconds, Mikoto opens the door and finds him sprawled in his bed, grasping the front of his shirt with enough force it turned his knuckles blue.
“Call the Hyuuga quick!” Itachi could hear his mother shout. “His chakra flow is abnormal!”
Itachi was fighting to keep conscious. He has lost the track of time so he did not know how long he was crying, trying to suppress the pain and focusing solely on breathing.
Just when he felt like he was about to lose consciousness, he regained his ability to breathe normally. The tears in his eyes immediately stopped flowing and Itachi saw someone looming over him.
Someone with white eyes.
“It is strange.” The Hyuuga spoke to his mother. “A seizure like this usually happens to people who overuse their third-eye chakra. Never in children.”
It worried Mikoto but she did not show it. “Is there something wrong with him?” she asked calmly.
“I’ve manage to bring his chakra pathway system to normal.” He answered. “He has a weak physical constitution. He may grow up to be a sickly child.”
Mikoto wanted to seem unfazed by the news but the mother in her could not keep up with the pretensions. “What can be done?” she asked of the Hyuuga.
Itachi could not keep himself awake any longer to listen, feeling very weak, tired and sleepy all of a sudden. The next time he regains consciousness, his body feels a lighter and cooler. He stayed in his bed for a week. After the seventh day, his fever has gone and he was feeling better.
Will the garden get better too?
The sound of a door opening interrupts Itachi’s train of thought. He hears faint footsteps and recognizes right away to whom they belong. Itachi expected for him to arrive much later in the night as he usually would.
Fugaku came home early.
After greeting his wife, Fugaku steps into the patio, eyeing the wooden blocks scattered everywhere. Fugaku sees his son just sitting there, staring into nothingness, expression blank and unmoving.
Itachi feels Fugaku’s stare boring through his skull. How inadequate. This was his father’s feelings and it manifested in an aura of animosity projected unto him. It was so strong that Itachi can feel it in the air.
Itachi stands up and makes a curt bow in greeting. He walks back to his toys and pretends to play with them again.
Fugaku sits there for a while, watching the garden. Although it was mid-day, there weren’t any birds in sight. There wasn’t even a playful breeze. In fact, there was no activity there whatsoever. Fugaku decides his attention is too precious to be wasted on something so boring. He stands up and was turning away when -
“Welcome home, father.”
Fugaku stops mid-step. A chill runs through his spine, making his limbs tremble and his teeth, chill. It’s his first time hearing his son speak to him like that. Whenever he arrived from work, Itachi would only bow in greeting and nothing more. Did that deep, demonizing voice belong to his son?
Fugaku turns around and to his surprise, Itachi was nowhere to be found.
There was only a small arch made of wooden toy blocks that a three year old child - who knew nothing of architecture and engineering - could impossibly have made.
Chapter 2 Prodigy
“Stay here and be a good boy.”
Itachi looks up to his mother. He wonders why Mikoto would even ask this of him. He’s always careful not to fuss – during breakfast, bath and even playtime with the other children. Seeing this would be the first time that his mother will leave him alone, Itachi immediately came to understand the amount of trust his mother was placing on him and decides to put an extra effort to behave.
Itachi nods, resisting speaking out loud. Whenever he played with them, children his age couldn’t change their voices to the right volume when talking nor construct sentences with more words than the count of their fingers. Itachi could not explain to her why he is different so for now he pretends to be inarticulate. She looks satisfied with his response so Mikoto turned away to the kitchen.
Itachi also pretends to be occupied with the assorted wooden blocks she provided for his entertainment. Recently, his mother acquired a fascination for thought provoking toys – Itachi knows he was to blame. He was usually placid so everyone thinks he has an underdeveloped mind. Especially his father, Itachi remembers.
“My son is not slow.” Mikoto remarked over breakfast. “Even that genius Minato Namikaze graduated academy at age ten.” She laid her chopsticks down in slight anger, appetite lost in the middle of the meal.
Itachi was sitting beside his mother and he could felt the rage boiling in her veins. He supposed his father, who sat in front of her, did not miss it too.
Fugaku continued to eat from his bowl. He remained stoic, dismissing Mikoto’s remark on the face of it. “I met Sakumo’s son.” Fugaku finally commented. He was summoned during midnight to inspect a suspected suicide. During the investigation, he found out something interesting. “He’s only eight and already a chuunin.”
“Poor child.” Mikoto’s focus suddenly shifted and her anger dissipated. She turned her attention towards Itachi; she cannot imagine herself leaving his side. “Orphaned at such a young age.”
“If you have time to worry for dead people’s children, raise your own son properly.” Fugaku was close to scolding his wife, unable to hide his disappointment. Itachi could hear the finality in Fugaku’s voice. “You are raising my heir. Make sure he grows suitable for the head of the Uchiha.”
Itachi senses the hesitation in his mother’s face. Mikoto made a small bow. “Yes, my dear husband.”
When he couldn’t sense his mother’s presence anymore, Itachi breaks the pretence. He makes a mental note to show Fugaku some sort of skill when he arrives tonight. That way, he would not scold Mikoto and the household will be peaceful once again. He just needs to decide which skill would impress Fugaku most.
Itachi puts down the wooden blocks. Although he enjoys construction, Itachi prefers endeavours which are more imaginative in nature. Itachi stands, with posture too regal for any three-year old. He takes purposeful steps towards the middle of the porch. He knows a good view of the inner garden helps him think better.
The day is clear, crisp and cool. Itachi takes a moment to enjoy the sunlight hitting his face. Unlike the past three months, days have become shorter and the nights grow longer. He concludes that the short daylight was causing the temperatures to drop. This makes Itachi anxious - because of the garden, that is. He’s seeing changes and is unsure if the beautiful view would turn sour.
Itachi loved the inner garden most. Unlike the other parts of their home, it burst at the seams with life and activity. He always woke up at the sound of birds chirping excitedly. They visit the garden to eat the fruits of the plants. The plants grew larger each day. Many of the flowers bloomed fully. Butterflies, beetles and other bugs increase in number and variety very quickly. Itachi’s day was filled with hours observing how they move, what they eat, why do they do what they do.
Itachi learned that plants lived in places where there was earth, sunlight, water and wind. For something to exist, certain conditions have to be met. Where the earth is hard or where sunlight doesn’t reach, the plants do not grow. When the water was too much or the wind was too hot, the plants wilted or desiccated.
In that small patch of ground, Itachi was able to grasp the complex concepts in life – birth, growth, harmony and balance. Though caterpillars ate the leaves of the plant, in time they became butterflies that carried the seeds of its flowers. Itachi learned there was purpose in everything.
Now, the flowers’ bright colors are fading. The leaves of the trees are turning to yellows and reds. Birds do not visit the garden as frequently as before. The insects are withdrawing to the ground. The garden does not look like the one from before. It was changing and Itachi can’t help but be burdened at the sight.
Was it sick?
Itachi had become sick too.
Itachi woke up hacking cough, grasping the sheets at his sides as the pain in his throat intensified. He tried to open his eyes and as soon as he did, tears started to flow. His face has incredibly become hot. Itachi knew something was wrong with his body since last night. He had trouble sleeping, feeling as though the room had become too humid and the air, too dense.
He felt the air get denser once more and he immediately felt heavy. He tried to breathe but the mundane task suddenly became difficult. His airways were blocked and he realized he won’t be able to cry for help. With all the strength he could muster, Itachi started pounding on the floor with his hands.
After a few seconds, Mikoto opens the door and finds him sprawled in his bed, grasping the front of his shirt with enough force it turned his knuckles blue.
“Call the Hyuuga quick!” Itachi could hear his mother shout. “His chakra flow is abnormal!”
Itachi was fighting to keep conscious. He has lost the track of time so he did not know how long he was crying, trying to suppress the pain and focusing solely on breathing.
Just when he felt like he was about to lose consciousness, he regained his ability to breathe normally. The tears in his eyes immediately stopped flowing and Itachi saw someone looming over him.
Someone with white eyes.
“It is strange.” The Hyuuga spoke to his mother. “A seizure like this usually happens to people who overuse their third-eye chakra. Never in children.”
It worried Mikoto but she did not show it. “Is there something wrong with him?” she asked calmly.
“I’ve manage to bring his chakra pathway system to normal.” He answered. “He has a weak physical constitution. He may grow up to be a sickly child.”
Mikoto wanted to seem unfazed by the news but the mother in her could not keep up with the pretensions. “What can be done?” she asked of the Hyuuga.
Itachi could not keep himself awake any longer to listen, feeling very weak, tired and sleepy all of a sudden. The next time he regains consciousness, his body feels a lighter and cooler. He stayed in his bed for a week. After the seventh day, his fever has gone and he was feeling better.
Will the garden get better too?
The sound of a door opening interrupts Itachi’s train of thought. He hears faint footsteps and recognizes right away to whom they belong. Itachi expected for him to arrive much later in the night as he usually would.
Fugaku came home early.
After greeting his wife, Fugaku steps into the patio, eyeing the wooden blocks scattered everywhere. Fugaku sees his son just sitting there, staring into nothingness, expression blank and unmoving.
Itachi feels Fugaku’s stare boring through his skull. How inadequate. This was his father’s feelings and it manifested in an aura of animosity projected unto him. It was so strong that Itachi can feel it in the air.
Itachi stands up and makes a curt bow in greeting. He walks back to his toys and pretends to play with them again.
Fugaku sits there for a while, watching the garden. Although it was mid-day, there weren’t any birds in sight. There wasn’t even a playful breeze. In fact, there was no activity there whatsoever. Fugaku decides his attention is too precious to be wasted on something so boring. He stands up and was turning away when -
“Welcome home, father.”
Fugaku stops mid-step. A chill runs through his spine, making his limbs tremble and his teeth, chill. It’s his first time hearing his son speak to him like that. Whenever he arrived from work, Itachi would only bow in greeting and nothing more. Did that deep, demonizing voice belong to his son?
Fugaku turns around and to his surprise, Itachi was nowhere to be found.
There was only a small arch made of wooden toy blocks that a three year old child - who knew nothing of architecture and engineering - could impossibly have made.
