Naruto Fan Fiction ❯ The Second Birth ❯ Ch. 2: Blank Page ( Chapter 2 )

The Second Birth

by Mizerable

Ch. 2: Blank Page

* * *

"But whyyy?"

"Because he's very sleepy. We mustn't wake him, right?"

His eager brother whining near the door was almost a comfort to him, though the sounds faded as the child was shooed away by their mother. What a travesty it would be for his sibling to learn his idolized big brother royally fucked up and shamed the family. He needed to get out of this place before he actually heard it from the elders, or worse, his father. Granted he had never received such a lecture before from either party, this was the first time he actually gave them good reason. Of course verbal dissection would be on their agendas now.

But here he was, laid out on his futon with a leg that was next to useless to go with the lung that was only working fifty percent, at best. In his state of half-dreamt haze, he swore he heard a mention of Tsunade coming to look at him at some point. Perhaps he wouldn't have to bear the scorn of his Clan for too long. They weren't so foolish as to leave their precious commodity in such a worthless state. It was fortunate that they most likely convinced the great Tsunade-sama to even make a house call. There was no real surprise, though, that they kept him hidden away in the Uchiha manor rather than a hospital. If it ever got out that the Uchiha Prodigy lost in combat, who knew how far the Clan would fall once the old gossiping bints were through. There wouldn't be a street corner left where an Uchiha could stand without appearing somehow "less" than before.

And it was no one's fault but his own.

* * *

"Is this really such a good idea? Keeping him cooped up like that…" the mother pondered aloud. She finally had convinced her youngest child to go outside and play, her mood dimming considerably now that she could voice her inner worries.

"The doctor said it would be better this way," her husband answered, "The medical staff thought he would be more comfortable if he could recuperate in his own home. The poor boy barely gets to stay here, as is."

"Even so…"

"I know," he could feel her anxiety, "With his lung in that state, you would think they would at least have him on some kind of machine."

"That blood makes him 'advanced,' not immortal."

The silence swelled as both parents stewed over the real reason their son was denied an extended stay at the hospital, despite its necessity. On the surface, it would seem they were just expecting more and more impossible things from the prestigious Uchiha. However, it would seem a lot more politics and human weakness were tied into the decision. If a boy whose power might even rival that of the Hokage was brutally injured in combat and his attacker was still on the loose, who was to say such a formidable shinobi wouldn't show up in Konoha to finish the job? The doctors were too busy fearing for their own lives with the chances of an attack that may never occur somehow happening. No one seemed to care that despite Itachi being such a powerful shinobi, he was still a boy left to silently suffer alone and unable to move from his bed.

"I'll go check up on him," she murmured softly and ascended the stairs without any protests.

Sliding the shouji aside gently, she entered the room with soft steps padding against the tatami mats. His head was turned away from her but she could tell he was awake. He could never stay asleep when another person entered the room. It had been a long, long time since she had last been able to fuss over her first child and she felt a twinge of bittersweet nostalgia that those days hadn't lasted longer. She brushed aside his hair and felt hurt that he flinched under her touch, the touch of his own mother.

"What are you doing?" he grumbled as briskly as was possible in his groggy state.

"Do you have a headache?" she spoke soothingly.

It's crushing, suffocating. As if it's been drilled into the concrete time and again.

"No." He would not fall for such a trick so easily. Her lips pressed together in a thin line. She wasn't even going to hide her disapproval anymore, was she. Though he earned it, he supposed. It was so disgraceful for a soldier of his status to be rendered so completely useless, especially by a little girl.

That made him pause a moment.

They weren't so different, he and that girl. Judging by how old she looked to be, how many had he killed by such an age? He had been so fantastically stupid to think she couldn't hurt him, after he murdered so many people when he was younger. Even so, what gave her the advantage? Because she didn't want to die? No one wanted to die…

His mother gently tugged aside the fabric of his buttoned shirt to get at his vicious stab wound, perhaps to change the bandage. It was instinct, really. A reflex. It was a weakness to have an injury and even worse to leave it unguarded. Those preservation instincts left his brain wired on a different set of circuits than most. His hand lashed out and struck down the threat.

At first he recognized the twinge in his hand, the one he'd broken while back. As his realm of understanding expanded, he began to comprehend that he had assaulted the one known as mother, the first other. Being married to an Uchiha meant she herself was a talented ninja, though one who was sure to have a spectacular bruise in due time. Itachi now recalled the core principle of the Clan so clearly through the fog of memory.

To bring bodily harm upon a fellow Clansman is a treason more unspeakable than attacking even the Hokage.

He could see the accusation in her eyes now, the betrayal. And, perhaps, the fear. He had seen that look many times before, that fear. Mothers did not fear their children though, or rather, they shouldn't. He doubted she ever cast such eyes on her youngest son. No, not yet. Not until he grew up and stopped being his mother's child. He, too, would become a monster.

Itachi scowled. That was true, wasn't it? How long until his brother's tiny hands knew the taste of blood?

"Someday he, too, will be lying in a bed like this."

He could sense his mother's confusion as her fear slowly ebbed back into normal ranges. It was fine, though, if she didn't understand. She wasn't really supposed to know, anyway. Not until her baby boy lashed out at her, as well. Though in all honesty, he couldn't say she didn't have it coming--

With a silent snarl, he quelled the nonsense rattling in his mind. He was an Anbu captain and, more importantly, an Uchiha. He'd already committed enough sins against both names in the past few days to soak a lifetime. They expected more from him than this.

They always expected more.

"Does it hurt much?" Itachi finally asked.

"N-no," his mother calmed and answered again with more conviction, "No. I'm sorry I startled you."

"The blame is mine alone," he answered blandly, "It was not my intention to react in such a manner."

She seemed to accept that as a satisfactory answer and he could venture that she would not report his capital crime to the elders. Then again, perhaps they already possessed a punishment fitting his disastrous mission. A knock at the door snapped him away from his reverie as he listened to the soft dialogue between his mother and the maid. Bruise? No, it must only be a shadow crossing her features. She was not injured. A visitor? Anbu? Yes, send him in.

The Anbu soldier entered and bowed to his mother, though somehow seeming informal, before she excused herself. It seemed that the Anbu's vision lingered on her swelling cheek before she slipped from the room as silently as her entrance.

"You're late," Itachi muttered.

"It's not so out of the ordinary, is it?" Kakashi pushed his mask back, showing his face. He took a casual seat on the floor, making sure to have the wall there to recline against. "I figured you would need a few days to adjust."

"You figured wrong."

"Yes, well…" The silence expanded upon itself, though both already knew where this conversation was going. "You know they're not going to accept your answer, that you don't know anything."

"On what grounds?"

"You're the Uchiha prodigy."

Itachi's features tightened at the reminder. One might have thought he was some sort of god with the way this backwater town thought of him. This was such a small place in the big, bad world. There were little girls out there capable of tearing down this entire village with her own tiny hands. "The people of this town are very foolish."

"Perhaps," Kakashi agreed flatly, "Though you've never given them a reason to think otherwise."

"Hn."

"So what will your statement be?"

"If they're so interested, why not ask that girl you found." Itachi scoffed.

Kakashi quirked an eyebrow at that. It was very unlike Itachi to remember a nameless homeless girl that happened to be caught up in a shinobi fight. There had been countless children like her tossed by the wayside on their missions, most of who probably died right then and there. Not once, however, did Itachi ever seem to register they were there. What made a girl who was not a shinobi, and nothing like an Uchiha, a better candidate of knowing the identity of the mystery assailant? She likely would be unable to even detect such a presence before she was already cut up.

"She disappeared along with the medical-nin's supplies. There's no reason a civilian would be of much use to us, anyway."

"No," Itachi said with an uncharacteristic sigh, "I suppose not."

Kakashi rose to his feet and slipped his mask back into place. "Tsunade should be here within the hour. Try not to aggravate your wounds further before she arrives."

With a puff of smoke, Itachi was left alone in his room and Kakashi had regrouped with fellow Anbu members.

"Sir?"

"He's hiding something. Track down the girl," Kakashi ordered crisply before departing with his squad.

* * *

He felt better, generally. His knee was still tender but it could support his weight and that would be sufficient. The tightness in his chest would fade soon enough. It would not complicate his abilities on a mission, at any rate. Though neither of these facts erased the tension from the supper table. His father obviously knew the shadow on his mother's face was not a shadow. His eyes, unlike his mother, held wariness and disappointment. They emotions themselves weren't so surprising, not as much as it was all so blatant.

A shinobi must never show emotion.

His brother's banter was cheery and nonsensical and perhaps would have been a pleasant distraction, had anyone been in a more agreeable mood. For now, it was only background noise to the thoughts absorbing Itachi's mind. There would come a day when his brother would no longer talk with such enthusiasm. That day was close.

He murmured his excusal and abandoned his seat at the dinner table, the seat that had always been empty more often than not. Before he could vanish into the unoccupied section of the house, his father's gruff voice spoke up.

"Tomorrow, they will be holding a service."

He'd forgotten that, somehow. One of his squad was dead now. His killer was still on the loose somewhere, though he couldn't quite understand now why he let her live. It wasn't out of mercy or compassion. If anything, it may have been kinder to let the others kill her when they had the chance. She didn't have much of chance at a tolerable life.

"I'll prepare your good clothes," his mother murmured.

"That won't be necessary," Itachi answered, "I've already accepted responsibility for the incident. There is no need for me to attend."

Both of their faces darkened and even his brother understood that something wasn't right, despite the fact that no one ever told him what was happening. Serious talks like this were never meant for him, or so his big brother had told him once.

Slowly Itachi's mind came to grips as to why he let such a dangerous girl live. She had something no one in this one-horse town could give him. It was that reason that he chose at that moment to begin searching for her.

"Where are you going?" his mother called after him.

"To find answers."

His mother continued declaring he wasn't ready to go back out on mission, not so soon after the last. Not after the disaster. She didn't need to say it for him to hear it. His brother was whining about the injustice of it all. His big brother just got back so why did he have to leave again? They were supposed to train together, after all. His little brother would have to forgive him. There was something important waiting for him out there beyond this place and he would stop at nothing to find it. He would never relent.

It was what everyone expected of him.

* * *

She was tired.

She had been wise enough to let the medical ninja set her broken wrist and kick-start its healing process, plus the supplies she stole were first-rate. But she wasn't very good at sewing, least of all her own wounds. It had made her a little queasy and it constantly was coming undone. She really didn't want to waste all the bandages on this one stab wound but it kept spilling everywhere. It wasn't really an option for her to stay in one place either, especially if that shinobi squad changed their minds and decided to pursue her.

She had no direction, no destination. It was a little warmer in this place with its own sort of coldness. It wasn't so much starch as it was the color of dull-blade steel and the rain made her feel generally uncomfortable. She hadn't found much in the way of edible food during this leg of her travels, though admittedly lacked the energy to give much effort to the hunt.

Now she found herself underneath a leafy tree that kept most of the rain from pelting her and seemed as good a time as any to have a smoke. Some of the older wanderers said it was as good a companion as any to have on the road. Its flavor was acrid and left a sour aftertaste at the back of her throat but it wasn't any more or any less appealing than anything else. It wasn't as if she had much experience with companions, anyway.

Needless to say, it was a rare moment for her to encounter the same person twice. It left her feeling an unnatural sense of ambivalence, floating somewhere between defensive and amused.

"Now what brings ya out to this way?" her tone was easy while she twirled her chipped kunai.

"Have you got a name?"

"Maybe," a smirk tugged at her lips, a sensation that felt all-together unnatural for her mouth, "Why you wanna know?"

"I want to know what to call the one who will teach me how to overcome the human fear of death."

The Death known as Uchiha.

Her speed was remarkable, surprising him enough for her fist to crack across his jaw. He staggered back and wiped away the blood streaming from his mouth. "You gotta lotta balls comin' all the way here an' demandin' all this weird shit. Why the hell shouldn't I kill ya right here an' now?"

"I have no plans to allow a repeat performance of last time. You should consider yourself fortunate that I am even foregoing my duty to request your services."

"And who are you that makes ya so fuckin' important?"

"Itachi of the Uchiha Clan."

"You think that means shit ta me?"

"Not really…"

Itachi was surprised actually. He had never met another shinobi who hadn't heard of the great Uchiha of Konoha. This girl was an odd one. Even if she wasn't tied to a village, someone who fought as well as she did was bound to have heard the name at least once in her travels. She fumbled for another cigarette with mild irritation since she had been in favor of punching him in the face rather than hold onto the previous one. He figured the girl was a few years younger than he, though from her height and bone structure he imagined she had to be older than his brother.

It dawned on him suddenly, something he had heard from an elder long ago. That to know a person's name meant to have power over them. Yet he so foolishly gave his away…

"I have food I can give you," he immediately catered to her primitive instincts. Anyone who would kill a man for an MRE would likely be captivated by such an offer. Her poker face was rather impressive for a child who was raised without the stringent sort of the traditional nindo so heavily embraced by the Clan. Even so, his eyes remembered their abuse far too well to ever miss the smallest of details.

"It poisoned?" she asked casually. Her hands were jammed in her pockets with her cigarette managing to stay alive between her lips. But all the tobacco in the world wasn't going to quench her obvious hunger. He tossed her one of the rice balls his mother insisted he take with him. It was a far more tolerable compromise than her insisting he stayed at home.

The girl was hesitant, sniffing for any obvious toxins. He doubted she had the schooling to detect if there was something poisonous in the food but humored her for a stretch.

"It won't kill you. It was made by my mother."

Her shoulders jerked at the word. It wouldn't be surprising if the girl had a horror story about the death of her own.

"You have a mother?" she kept her eyes low, only the little flame of her cigarette keeping her from looking so bleak and colorless.

"Yes."

"Then what are you doing here?"

She didn't sound angry, though he couldn't recall her ever having any particular emotion in her voice. She was just a blank page, in plain view but impossible to read.

"I assume you lost yours."

The girl shrugged, taking a drag. "Don't remember her. Don't remember anybody. All I ever had was the road."

Itachi nodded once. It was another familiar story out in countries like this, ones very different from the peaceful little place he came from. It was a land like this that gave birth to shinobi with blades much sharper than his own. It was here he would find the strength to compensate for his failed combat mission. It was his responsibility to do so.

She turned away from him and for a moment he thought she was leaving until she plopped back down under the tree. He assumed her biting into the rice ball was a signal that she was at least going to leave him alive, if nothing else.

"It's Yanagi, by the way," she stated between bites, "My name."

"Is it the name your family gave you?"

"The first time I ever killed somebody was under a willow tree."

Itachi had no longer held doubts or misgivings about his decision. This was the road to power, a path without the night terrors and cold sweats. He could still save face and stand before his family yet. With enough strength he would no longer be the Clan's lap dog and he could save his brother from enduring the same fate. He knew the answer now.

He needed only the strength to kill this girl.

MRE: Meal Ready to Eat. Standard food rations issued to those of the military armed forces.

Nindo: Way of the Ninja. It sounded too awkward in English. Consider it the ninja equivalent to Bushido

Yanagi: Japanese name meaning Willow