Naruto Fan Fiction ❯ A Red Rose ❯ Chapter 2 ( Chapter 2 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

IMPORATANT NOTE FOR PAST READERS!
A/N (06-27-13): Please see the A/N in the Prologue.

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“You didn’t have to use the Sharingan on her, Itachi.”

“It was necessary.”

“Oh, really? It didn’t look like she could have put up much of a fight to me. You said yourself that she wasn’t a threat.”

Voices pounded in my head, forcibly dragging me from the blissful darkness that I had been floating in. I tried to block out the intruding sounds but they ruthlessly kept me from slipping back into unconsciousness and continued to pester my abused mind with confusing chatter. My instincts told me that I wasn’t in any immediate danger so all I wanted to do was continue to sleep.

“It allowed her to rest,” the second voice said. Mmm, rest is nice. “If I hadn’t used it she would have refused to fall asleep in our presence.”

I had to argue with that. If the voices would have just shut up, I could have fallen asleep right then and there, presence or no presence.

Someone sighed.

The first voice responded to the other. “You know this is why you don’t have a girlfriend, right?” it said humorously. “You just do whatever you think is best without considering what others might think.”

“Because what I do is always right.”

“Well, I can’t really argue with you there. Though I still say that a lot of that is just luck.”

“Luck has nothing to do with it and you know it.”

Whatever the hell that was about I didn’t really care. There was a silent pause that I was grateful for, but before I could drift off once again, the voices continued with another sigh.

“I’m going to see if there’s any news about her origins from the Hokage,” the first voice said.

“Hn.”

There was the sound of footsteps across a wooden floor, a door opening and closing, then silence again. Still tired, I finally began to return to the realm of sleep and was once again interrupted in my search for rest. It seemed I wouldn’t be able to escape reality that easily.

“You’re awake,” the second voice said; I assumed it was addressing me. I frowned. That voice was intruding on my sleep. No matter how pleasant it was to listen to, I needed my beauty sleep.

“Can’t you just let me sleep,” I mumbled as a response into the pillow under my head.

“No,” the voice replied firmly.

Groaning, I pried my heavy eyelids open. I was staring at a white wall. I turned my head, shifted my body over to the other side, and promptly hissed as pain shot through my arm. I had leaned on the wound that I had forgotten was there. Then the pain caused all of the few memories I had to come rushing back to me. A forest. Men attacking. Hot boy. Well, damn. At least I had an inkling of who it was I was talking to now. I should have recognized that sardonic tone right away.

“You should stay on your other side. You’ll aggravate the cut on your arm.”

No, duh. Thanks so much for that, I thought bitterly. Rolling back over, I sat up and realized that most of my strength had returned while I had slept. Reaching up to my throbbing arm, I gave it a hesitant prodding with my finger. It didn’t feel as bad as before, but it still hurt like hell when I touched it. Though I had refused to look at it before, I had no problem doing so now. The bandages that covered it looked fresh and white. My scraps and cuts, I noticed, had already disappeared. Whether that was strange or not for them to heal overnight, I had no idea. After all, I had nothing to compare it to.

“At the rate you’ve been healing, your arm should be completely healed by tomorrow.” Holy shit, was this guy psychic?

I twisted my body to look over my shoulder at the boy I had almost forgotten was still in the room, probably on purpose. Of course, I immediately recognized the boy from before. Who could forget that handsome visage?

I remembered his words to whoever had been in the room a minute before.

You didn’t have to use the Sharingan on her, Itachi.

The word ‘Sharingan’ stood out as I recalled the red and black that I had seen before passing out. I had no idea what it meant, but I now knew that that boy had been the one to knock me out. Also, I had learned the boy’s name: Itachi; not to mention that he was currently single, but that wasn’t important – or so I claimed. Berating myself for thinking such unhelpful thoughts, I filed those tiny tidbits away with the rest of my newfound knowledge and turned my attention to the room I had found myself in.

I was in a plain hospital-like room with white-washed walls, a bed, a bedside table, and a single window. There was a chair in the corner of the room but the boy had obviously ignored it in favour of leaning against the wall near the door in a manner that could only be described as overly confident.

“Is that normal?” I asked, referring to my apparently accelerated healing, genuinely curious.

Itachi hesitated; a slight frown marred his perfect aristocratic features, accentuating the shadows running from his eyes. “Normally a person would need a medic-nin to heal that quickly.”

“Oh.” What else was I supposed to say? It wasn’t like I could explain my abnormally fast healing anyways. And who exactly were medic-nins? Another kind of familiar, yet unexplained, name to add to my growing collection. Now, I decided, would be as good a time as any to get some answers. I opened my mouth to ask the first of many questions.

Aniki!”

The sudden shout startled me, making me jerk in surprise at the sound. My eyes darted toward the door beside Itachi as it burst open to reveal a miniature version of Itachi, except with shorter hair that spiked up in the back. He looked to be about six or seven, and his hair was also more of a midnight blue then Itachi’s black, with bangs framing his face like the older boy, who was looking slightly annoyed at the interruption.

“Aniki! You’re back!” the child yelled. He looked as though he was about to jump on the older boy before he noticed me. By this time the mini-Itachi was already standing fairly close to me.

“Who’s that, aniki?” He looked at me with large, dark eyes and such a cute expression of curiosity on his face that I couldn’t help it.

“Hi there,” I said, smiling widely at the cute kid. I reached out to give him a quick pat on his cute head but the little boy’s reaction was to look at my hand like it was going to eat him and promptly run behind his older brother’s legs. Once he was safely tucked away behind his brother he peeked at me, still curious like most children at that age. Blood crept up into my cheeks as I smiled sheepishly.

“Uh... I’m sorry?” I said quickly, confused.

“You seem to have your energy back,” Itachi said, his tone not revealing whether that was a good thing or a bad thing, or anything at all for that matter.

“Yeah, I guess,” I muttered. I sat back down on the side of the bed and looked down at myself. I was wearing a plain white yukata and I could see the bruises that were the only marks left that still had yet to fade on my arms and legs. They must have thrown out the kimono I had been wearing. It definitely hadn’t been in the best of shape the last time I had worn it.

“Do you remember anything yet?” Itachi’s probing question caught me off guard and the pain it caused was a shock to my still reeling mind.

“No. Nothing,” I whispered almost inaudibly. I stared at the ground as I answered so Itachi couldn’t see as tears welled up in my eyes from the reminder of my lack of memories. It physically hurt, not knowing who I was. I knew I wouldn’t be able to hold the tears back for long.

“Are you crying?” The young voice sounded timid and shy. I plastered a fake smile on my face as I dared to look up.

“No,” I said, my voice only slightly breaking. “I’m just a little sad, that’s all.” Losing one’s memories can do that to you, I added silently.

“Oh,” the little one said from behind his brother. “Why?”

A small, sad but genuine smile found its way onto my lips at the young child’s innocent curiosity.

“She lost her memory.”

And there it died a quick death.

The child glanced up at his brother with a shocked expression. “How?”

I scowled at my rescuer.

“If I knew, I wouldn’t have lost my memories, now would I?” I replied gently before Itachi could come up with another caustic answer.

The little boy’s cherubic face turned back to me. “So, you don’t know who you are?”

“No,” I answered. “But I’m going to find out.” With that claim, a fierce determination suddenly flowed through me with a heady potency. I would find out, I decided. I refused to live my life with the darkness of unknown memories haunting me at every turn. I saw Itachi’s eyes flicker to me from the corner of my eye as I smiled at the younger one.

“You want to help me?” I offered.

His young eyes widened in excitement as all children’s eyes did when they felt like they were included in something. Then he smiled. It was the cutest smile.

“Okay,” he said simply.

And just like that, I had won his trust. If I could only win his older brother over with a few smiles I might get some real answers, I thought. Though, looking at him, I knew he wasn’t going to be so easily charmed. His entire body radiated danger and distrust. Those dark, brooding eyes were hard and troubled. I got the sense that he was going through a hard time himself and would not welcome any kind of attempt at friendship from a stranger. I made a silent wish that the person he had been talking with before I was fully conscious would be more inclined to kindness.

“What’s your name?” I asked Itachi’s brother softly. I would need to know his name if we were going to be friends, the only one I seemed to have at the moment.

“Sasuke,” he answered without hesitation. I smiled. It seemed that Sasuke was quickly losing his nervousness around me.

He continued, “-and this is my aniki, Itachi.” I nodded, having already known that, but I wouldn’t spoil the obvious pleasure he took in introducing his brother. It amused me that he automatically assumed that Itachi hadn’t already introduced himself, which he hadn’t. Out of curiosity, I looked up at said brother to see how he was taking Sasuke’s friendliness toward me and I noticed the tell-tale signs of annoyance flashing in his eyes.

Oh, get over it, I thought. This is how a person is supposed to react, any decent person, anyway.

“You were the one that found me,” I said to Itachi. I was stating the obvious, but I felt that Itachi needed a little reminder that he was essentially the only person I knew in this world. It was not a very appealing thought, but it was true, despite any apprehension I may have had about this stoic boy.

I watched as he nodded then I followed my statement with a question that had been nagging me. “I heard someone talking to you earlier. Who was it?”

“He is one of my teammates.” Well now, that wasn’t too painful, was it? I thought. Now, if only he would explain what he meant by teammates like any other normal person.

“Teammates?” I prompted, demonstrating my confusion by tilting my head to the side and waiting for his answer. I could only come up with a few possible explanations and none of them seemed to fit. “Were all the people who found me your teammates for something?”

Previously blank eyes registered a quick flash of surprise, which was then replaced with a new curiosity. What had I said to inspire that particular emotion?

“Yes,” Itachi confirmed, but, to my increasing frustration, once again failed to specify for what.

It was then that Sasuke stepped out from behind his brother’s legs and looked up at me sitting on my bed. There was a gleam in his eye that I couldn’t quite place.

“Itachi is the youngest person ever to be accepted into ANBU,” he bragged excitedly. Ah, it was pride that shone in the little boy’s eyes, eyes that matched Itachi’s perfectly in colour, yet remained innocent and unclouded, unlike his brother’s heavy gaze.

“He’s the captain of his squad,” the young one continued. Captain? Seriously?

I looked up at Itachi again in confusion, searching for clarification. ANBU, I mused. From the way Itachi had stiffened – the tightening in his shoulders and increased rigidity in his stance gave him away – it was likely something that he would not be inclined to talk about.

“Sasuke,” he said. His tone was glacial. “Go help okaa-san in the kitchen.” Another point for my seemingly flawless intuition.

“But-” Sasuke protested with a pouting look on his face that would have shamed a puppy.

Itachi’s voice was firm and unyielding, leaving no room for argument. “Now,” he said with impatience showing in those dark, charcoal eyes.

Sasuke’s shoulders slumped dejectedly and he turned slowly toward the door.

“Hai, aniki,” he said as he shuffled outside and shut the door behind him. Poor Sasuke, I thought, to have such a cold person for a brother.

“That was a little harsh, don’t you think,” I said, glancing back at said brother. Not to mention cold and unfeeling, I added silently.

“Hn,” Itachi said, avoiding my eyes. His face was an emotionless mask again. I had been able to slightly read his expressions once Sasuke had entered the room – annoyance, impatience, and a little bit of curiosity – but now that mask was firmly back in place.

“It must get tiresome,” I remarked coolly.

His gaze finally met mine and I smiled up at him. I knew enough by now to know that he would not ask for an explanation. No, the curiosity would kill him before that happened. I reigned in an inappropriate bout of giggles.

“Not showing any emotions twenty-four seven,” I explained, the smile growing into a smirk.

He looked away out the window, avoiding me again. “Hn.”

“See what I mean?”

He looked back at me, raised an eyebrow and retorted with, “You shouldn’t comment on things you know nothing about.”

“What, emotions?” My sarcastic remark brought down that irritating eyebrow. “Because, being human and all, I think I pretty much got that covered.”

“No,” he said cryptically; mask falling even more firmly into place. “You don’t.” Then he turned and walked out the door without a single glance back.

What an insufferable jerk, I thought, glaring at the door which shut with an equally infuriating snick. What did he expect me to do? Wait here patiently for him to return like a good little girl? No way in hell. Jerk.

Standing up, I marched to the door, wrenched it open, and started down the long hallway it revealed. I should have wondered how Itachi could have disappeared from the hallway already but I was too angry to notice.

I huffed as I stalked down the hall. He hadn’t even given me a chance to ask all of the millions of questions that had been whirling about inside my head. The entire time we talked, I had only managed to get in one. One! And even that hadn’t been answered fully, creating even more questions for me to stew over. I positively fumed; my angry footsteps could probably have been heard throughout the entire compound.

Arrogant bastard! I mentally screamed.

I reached the end of that particular hall and, having nowhere else to turn, threw open the door in front of me and stormed in angrily, not caring whether or not I was interrupting something. With a dark satisfaction, I saw that it was empty. Glancing around, I surveyed what the room had to offer.

It was a bedroom. The curtains were drawn so the room was dark; the light from the hall made shadows dance on the walls. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I could see that there was a bed against one wall with dark sheets and dark pillows. There was a desk on the opposite end of the room and the window was situated in the center of the wall between the two. I wouldn’t have been able to tell the colour of the walls even if the room had been filled with light because every inch of available wall space was covered by shelves that stretched from the floor to the ceiling. Crammed inside the shelves were countless books and scrolls.

Amazed, I began wandering around the room, gazing at the titles. I could read them which was a good sign, I thought as my eyes swept over the numerous novels. Completely forgetting my previous anger in favour of curiosity, I continued around the room and noted that most of the scrolls and books were about some kind of training or jutsu. The word shinobi was mentioned fairly often as well. Curious, I pulled one of the scrolls from its place and was about to open it when I was interrupted.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

I spun around and saw Itachi leaning against the doorway.

“Uh…um, I-” I stammered. What was I supposed to say? I had been caught going through the stuff of the people who had taken me into their home despite my memory loss. I didn’t even know where I was. At this rate I might as well scream ‘spy’ or something!

“If you want to be sealed inside that scroll then go ahead and open it,” Itachi’s cool, slightly superior voice grated on my frayed nerves.

“What-” I started. Then I remembered that I was still holding that damn scroll that had gotten me into trouble in the first place; my fingers were holding the flap part way open. My face heated up and I quickly placed it back on the shelf where I had found it.

“Sorry,” I apologized, bowing my head slightly and hoping not to be thrown out on the street. Some ‘guest’ I was. Wait, was I a guest? Or was I a captive? I hadn’t been locked up nor had there been someone guarding me back in the white room but still…

“Why don’t you just head back to your room and stay out of mine, or any other room in this house for that matter,” Itachi said, a slight frown appearing as he spoke.

“This is your room?” I asked, too distracted by my surprise to be polite. With renewed curiosity, I glanced around again at the room I had wandered into. Looking at it a second time, it seemed elegant and refined with its rich colours and, looking closer with the light from the door, held decoratively detailed furniture, though it was still a little dark for my tastes. Underneath all that elegance though, it was slightly disturbing. Nothing was out of place, the bed was perfectly made and everything seemed to have its own special place; it was unnatural, as though no one actually lived there. It fit Itachi perfectly.

The frown deepened at my obvious perusal. “Hn.”

I looked back at Itachi as he turned away and began walking down the corridor. He paused and seemed to hesitate a second before looking over his shoulder at me, dark eyes piercing.

“Come with me,” he said.

I couldn’t remember my way back to the room I had woken up in since I had stormed off in a rage, so it only made sense to follow him down the corridor. I was a guest after all, right? Walking, we passed door after door, each one firmly shut. The secured doors contrasted jarringly against the large, open windows that allowed a slight breeze and the scent of trees and flowers to enter the otherwise stuffy compound.

A particular gust of air blew some of my hair into my face as we walked. It was a dark, near-black red. Brushing it back with my hand, I mused on what I looked like. I hadn’t seen a single mirror since I had woken up. I made a mental note to ask for one if I had the opportunity. If fact, I realized, now would be a good time for a few answers. But where should I start? I mused as we walked in silence. There were so many questions… Our location, I decided, was one of the most important so I would begin with that.

“Itachi-san?” I called, trying to be as polite as possible in the hopes of actually receiving an answer. The boy was walking slighting ahead of me and leading the way. Without him, I probably would have been completely lost. He didn’t answer, nor did he give any sign of having heard me. It was annoying but I spoke anyways, not willing to be deterred by a little silence.

“Where, exactly, are we?” I asked.

Itachi didn’t answer but I knew I had his attention now by the slight slowing of his brisk pace. He was just hesitating.

“Konoha,” he replied after a minute of silence.

“What is Konoha?” I asked. “And where is it?”

“No more questions,” he said, shooting a glance back my way.

“Why?” I wasn’t allowed to ask questions now? “Obviously someone who lost their memory would have a few questions. You’re being unreasonable.”

“No. I’m being practical,” Itachi replied. “We don’t know you, therefore, we cannot trust you. Because of that, you will only get answers when or if we do.”

“Is this about that whole ‘Where do your loyalties lie?’ thing?” My understandable annoyance was quickly becoming anger. “Aren’t you overreacting a bit?”

“No, I’m not. No more questions,” he repeated.

“Fine,” I snapped. Jerk.

Anger is not conducive to getting answers, I told myself, and kept telling myself until I nearly believed it. Try a different avenue, I figured, a more personal one. And I had the perfect one in mind.

“What do I look like?”

Well, that got a reaction. Itachi stopped so abruptly that I didn’t have a chance to stop myself before we collided. I stumbled backwards from the force of hitting Itachi’s back head-on and ended up tripping over my own feet. Oops. How clumsy of me.

Judging by my abilities when I had been fighting those men, I should have been able to steady myself. My instincts, however, apparently saw no real threat and so no help came from that department. Instead, still falling backwards, I reflexively closed my eyes and braced myself, fully expecting to slam into a hard wooden floor.

Surprisingly, I never did. Instead, when I opened my eyes, I found myself held securely in Itachi’s arms. I couldn’t really call it an embrace since he had only grabbed me to stop me from falling and making a fool of myself, but both of his arms had ended up wrapped around me so I couldn’t truthfully call it anything else. Unfortunately or not, depending on how you looked at it, his arms also prevented me from moving away, resulting in his body being pressed quite intimately against mine for two people who were supposedly strangers. We were close enough that I could feel every line and curve of his very masculine body for someone so young. Under his loose shirt, I could feel hard muscle that could only be achieved with years of serious manual labour, yet his youth allowed him to still be lean rather than overly bulky.

Then I glanced up, my eyes met charcoal and I couldn’t look away. Itachi’s dark, bottomless eyes turned smoky, giving them a new heated texture that I hadn’t seen before. I shivered though I wasn’t in the least bit cold. In fact, I could feel the heat rise to my face in response to both my embarrassment and Itachi’s proximity.

It ended as abruptly as it had begun and, within an instant, I found myself standing shakily on my not-so-sturdy feet. Almost as quickly, the embarrassment disappeared, just to be replaced by anger – I seemed to get angry a lot, I realized – when I realized that Itachi was already continuing down the corridor. How dare he force me to collide with him then just walk away as though nothing had happened? He could have at least waited for me to catch the breath that had somehow escaped me at his touch.

“What the hell was that about?” I yelled as he was already a good ten feet away from me. He didn’t even pause at my increased volume. I raced to catch up with him.

“Why the hell would you go and stop in the middle of the hallway like that,” I continued. “It’s just asking for someone to run into you. It’s not like you couldn’t have just answered my question; it wasn’t that hard. Hell, you could have even brought me a mirror-”

My rant was abruptly halted by Itachi’s hand on my mouth.

“If you do not wish to lose your tongue, I suggest that you stop speaking immediately and do not do so again until asked. Maybe then we might just get a little peace and -”

I couldn’t help myself. Though I couldn’t remember, I was sure that I had heard this same kind of speech before and his hand was on my mouth – a very tempting offer.

Much to my disappointment, Itachi didn’t even gasp in pain. He didn’t even wince, actually. His eyes just flashed once in surprise then narrowed in anger. His eyes really were quite expressive when he wasn’t actively masking his emotions. It pleased me that I was able to elicit such a reaction from him and cause him to drop his mask, if only for a few seconds.

Drawing his now injured hand away from my face – which I wickedly hoped he now viewed as a dangerous weapon – he glanced down at the blood that was welling up from the crescent shaped mark that my teeth had made in his smooth skin.

Without thinking and before my instincts could stop me, I had glanced at it too. Big mistake. All of a sudden my knees went weak and buckled under me. My stomach began churning, threatening to eject the non-existent food within it. A pounding developed at the back of my skull. I felt sick, really sick. Oh god.

I rushed to the nearest open window which was thankfully only a couple feet away. I inhaled the fresh air, taking deep, calming breaths, and praying that I wouldn’t throw up, or faint. I had nearly succeeded to but then I realized that I could taste it in my mouth, the blood, strong and coppery. I spat quickly to get rid of the flavour of it but it was too late. I felt sorry for the plants that grew beneath that window as I emptied the limited contents of my stomach onto them.

Once I was finished, I wilted to the ground. If I had been tired before, I was exhausted now. I felt completely drained. My head spun and the headache increased in intensity. Please no, I begged. I put my head between my knees and clutched my aching skull. The floor was spinning in front of my eyes so I closed them.

“Ugh…” I moaned.

“Are you alright?” I heard Itachi ask. I looked up at him to answer but just managed to moan again.

He reached for me, presumably to help me, but at the sight of his still bleeding hand the dizziness and weakness increased exponentially.

“No!” I yelled, waving a hand at him to get him to back off. I groaned through the pain.
“Cover your hand, please,” I begged.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have bit it then, if you were going to react like this.”

“How the hell was I supposed to know this would happen?” I snapped back, head buried once again in my hands.

Then there was blessed silence.

After what seemed like forever, the nausea and headache finally faded. I still felt weak, but anything was better than feeling like my stomach was trying to jump into my mouth or like my head was splitting open. Eventually, I dared to lift my head.

Itachi was leaning against the wall opposite me but this time, instead of coming off as arrogant, he was just… standing there. I could have sworn there was concern in his eyes. His hand was wrapped in a length of cloth which I assumed had come from the pouch he carried strapped to his leg.

“Better?” he asked. I didn’t even have the energy to glare so I just attempted to stand. Itachi didn’t offer his help this time.

Once I was upright and not clutching the window ledge for support, he gestured down the hall to a shoji screen door.

“That is our destination,” he explained. I nodded and he began walking toward it. I followed behind more slowly, still not fully recovered. Itachi opened the door he now faced and motioned for me to follow him inside. This wasn’t the room I had woken up in and I wondered what I would find this time. Then I took a steadying breath and walked in.

It was a large room, bare of any decorations except for one image; a red and white fan that appeared to be some sort of crest – a symbol with meaning behind it rather than an extravagant art piece. That symbol and the man sitting in the middle of the wooden floor had a sobering effect on me. This is serious, I thought, and could possibly be what decides my fate here.

The man had a face that was strikingly similar to Itachi’s. A relation? His father, I guessed. His hair was the same colour as Itachi’s, black as a moonless night, as were his eyes, a frigid charcoal. But I could see that behind those eyes there was a man who knew what he wanted and how to get it, and was determined to do so. Itachi had seemed cold and distant to me, but now, looking at this man, Itachi was the equivalent of a warm, fuzzy teddy bear. This man was as barren of emotion and frigid as the arctic. Very little, I knew, would sway him.

It was at this point that I started feeling nervous. The man intimidated me, as much as I hated to admit it. And he was staring at me, just staring. Nerve-racking, was the appropriate adjective that came to mind. My hands began to shake and I fought to control them by clasping them behind my back.

Power. That was what he radiated. Not the kind of physical power that I had somehow released against the men from before, though I sensed he had that too, but the power of influence. The power that came with importance and demanded absolute obedience and submission.

“Sit,” the man said, indicating the area directly in front of him.

But I would not submit. I would never submit. Deep within me I knew that I was not someone who would bow down to anyone unless they had earned my respect first, and only then when absolutely necessary. To this man I would be polite, courteous, grateful, and pleasant – the perfect guest. But I would not show fear or confusion in front of him, nor my desperation to discover the truth about myself. I would not let anyone, or anything, keep me from my search for my memories.

For the moment, I sat.

“What is your name?” Brisk and to the point, I thought when the man I was assuming to be Itachi’s and Sasuke’s father spoke.

“I’m sorry,” I apologized, trying to be as polite as possible while grinding my teeth in annoyance, “I don’t remember.” Did no one tell this guy that I had no memories, that interrogation was useless?

“Who are you?” I returned, equally pointedly.

The man’s stoic expression and bluntness seemed too natural to be part of a conscious effort to intimidate me. Rather, they were in his nature. I wasn’t about to be forced to submit that easily, however. I wasn’t the one at fault here. My initial nervousness when entering this room had been successfully forced back and I would get through this.

“So it’s true then,” he said, more of an afterthought then anything else, completely ignoring my question as if I didn’t have a right to know. I was surprised my teeth weren’t cracking.

He glanced at Itachi who had stayed near the door, his back leaning against the wall and his expression seemingly indifferent. Itachi just stared back.

Looking back to me, the older man continued.

“Do you remember anything?” he questioned.

“No.”

“Nothing?”

“Nothing.”

“Are you sure?”

I had to almost physically reign in my frustration at this obvious, and useless, interrogation.

Speaking through my teeth, I answered him, “Yes, I’m sure.”

If he asked my one more time, I was going to shove that kunai he had hidden up his sleeve up his ass to meet the stick that was already there.

It took me a second to realize what I had just thought. I hadn’t consciously seen anything that would have hinted to a weapon being hidden in the sleeve of his haori, so how the hell had I known it was there? Was it even there? It was impossible to know for sure just by looking, but I couldn’t help but feel that I was right. My subconscious mind, the part still mysterious to me, must have caught something that my conscious mind hadn’t.

“Hm,” the man intoned. He leaned back and looked me over as though he was trying to see if I was lying or not. After a few seconds of silence, I just had to ask. It was killing me not knowing. I had a niggling feeling that curiosity was going to be the death of me, but I ignored it... as usual it seemed.

“Um, excuse me?” I said, still trying to be polite in this foreign house – I wouldn’t call it a home. “I was just wondering if you could tell me whether or not you had a weapon hidden in your right sleeve.”

Two pairs of charcoal eyes widened briefly in surprise, then narrowed immediately after in suspicion. Okay, maybe that wasn’t such a smart idea. Still, waiting for my answer, I purposely ignored the tense atmosphere and watched as Itachi and his father became even tenser.

After a minute or so of getting no responses, I closed my eyes and sighed in exasperation. It seemed I wouldn’t be getting any answers unless I explained. Though, from their reactions, I had a feeling that my little hunch was correct.

It was strange how I had somehow known...

Coincidently, the moment I opened my mouth to speak so did Itachi’s father.

“How did you know that?” His hand moved to his right sleeve and removed said weapon. The kunai was exactly the same kind as the one that had been used on me by those men in the forest. A slight tinge of my previous nervousness returned.

“I don’t know,” I answered truthfully.

The man scowled, his first real expression. That was my only warning before he moved with exceedingly fast reflexes and threw the dangerous weapon with astonishing skill and accuracy.

It landed with a thud where I had been a split second before.

Landing silently on my feet from my flip backwards, I blinked. How had I done that? Unrestrained shock at my own abilities overwhelmed me. I was fast, like really fast.

The sharp edge of cool steel on my neck alerted me to a presence behind me. Itachi, I sensed. When had he moved?

The kunai he held at my neck pressed down on my skin where I felt a sharp prick.

“You will answer me quickly and truthfully. Who are you and what do you want?” He spoke in my ear, his words cruel and harsh and his voice colder than the metal against my throat. This was not the Itachi I had been talking to a mere few minutes before, the one that had asked if I was alright. This was the Itachi that had somehow knocked me unconscious in the clearing. This was the Itachi that would kill me in an instant without blinking.

“I-I don’t know.” My voice was a low whisper. This Itachi scared me.

I could see Itachi’s supposed father standing up and moving to retrieve the other kunai from where it was embedded in the floor. The weapon at my neck dug in further and I could feel something warm seeping from the cut it made. Blood, I realized, and immediately regretted it. The nausea I had experienced before returned with a vengeance, followed rapidly by the disabling weakness.

Run! My instincts screamed at me.

I shut my eyes from the pain of the cut though I desperately wanted to keep them open in order to defend myself. The queasy, nauseous feeling grew in my stomach and a headache began to develop deep in my skull once again. The trickle of my blood flowed lazily from my neck, into my yukata, and down my chest and stomach. Suddenly it was all I could focus on because everything else was fading away.

“Liar,” I dimly heard the older man hiss.

Metal sliced into my cheek and my eyes flashed open at the sharp pain it caused. Blood, my blood, reflected the light in the room from the edge of the deadly weapon in the man’s hand. My eyes couldn’t look away though the headache increased ten-fold and the queasiness spread through me. I was completely frozen in absolute terror and couldn’t even move my head away. Tremors racked my entire body and my vision darkened, eyes still riveted to the blood. I couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. The sickening, metallic smell of my own blood was slowly suffocating me. I had to get away!

Blood!… DANGER! RUN! RUN! RUN! RUN NOW!

Distantly, I heard a piercing, pain-filled scream before a sudden, sharp pain at the back of my head forced me to succumb to the darkness.