chuunin_archive | [Fic] White Rain Chapter 4 (Reply)

Title White Rain
Author: Zapenstap
Chapter: 4
Summary: A woman arrives in Konoha seeking asylum for herself...and Itachi's children. Naruto is Hokage, and Konoha is about to be tested. violence, intrigue, mature situations, OCs
Pairings: Multiple. So far SasuSaku, ItaOC, NejiTen, InoCho

White Rain at Fanfiction.net.

White Rain on my Live Journal

This is chapter four of my Naruto fanfiction White Rain. I realize it’s a strange little story I’m writing here, with all the OC-focus etc, but I led off with that in chapter one, so at least I can’t be accused of deceiving anybody! For those of you who love OCs as much as I do (of course I’m referring to developed ones) I hope you enjoy it.

Although not the plot, I have a theme of relationships, and will feature all different kinds of relationships, especially as they relate to family. I apologize for any character ships or interpretations that don’t mesh with everyone’s preferences, I can’t please everybody! Too many ships in Naruto. Lol. Prepare for Choji x Ino in this chapter. As for Naruto himself, (which my beta questioned) it’s just not in the story yet. ^_~

As for whether or not the chapters will ALWAYS be this long, it’s hard to say, but I kinda hope not...

White Rain

Chapter 4

By Zapenstap

Naruto walked out to the balcony as the sun rose over Konoha. A light morning breeze dried the sleep sweat from his hair as he yawned and stretched his fingers above his head. He leaned over the railing and peered out over the village streets, breathing in deeply the smells of cool air, raked soil, dew on grass, and oven-baked bread.

This was Konoha. This was the village Hidden in the Leaves.

And a new day, he thought with a smile. Another day for living. One more beautiful blue-skied day.

There weren’t words to express the feeling of it. He stood poised and still, the tips of his fingers hovering just over the railing. He felt calm, rested, and connected inextricably to the wood of the rail, to the boards beneath his feet, to the sky overhead, and the core of himself that was an identity as solid as a mountain and deep as the roots of the giant tree that overshadowed his house. Knowing yourself, he thought, was the key to possibility.

He knew that he was Hokage. That was the truth of every morning.

There was another feeling laid overtop that certainty this morning, a tingling like a hundred thousand tiny bursts of lightning running like chills up his arms and across his gut and torso. Excitement.

He would fight Sasuke today. His smile widened into a grin.

It was always hard to contain this feeling. For someone who had never felt it, it was impossible to comprehend. Love couldn’t be explained.

Naruto took a deep breath and turned away from the balcony to get ready for the day.

He would fight Sasuke at dusk, which meant there was still a full day’s worth of village business to attend to, and whatever training he could squeeze in during breaks. He wondered if Sakura would really come by to help, and if anyone would know the difference if it was Sakura who stamped Naruto’s way through the paperwork. He snickered to himself, and then paused, frowning while pulling his shirt over his head.

He knew she would clock him for tricking her, but he hoped she wouldn’t be seriously mad. It was sometimes hard to tell with Sakura. He wasn’t asking for her help because he was lazy. Well maybe he was a little lazy sometimes, but even on his relaxed days, Naruto took being Hokage very seriously. He had a very clear idea about what it meant. It wasn’t about paperwork.

Being Hokage wasn’t a job or a title or an office. Hokage was a person. Being Hokage meant being the strongest in the village. It also meant being someone to look to--for everyone in the village. The Hokage was an advocate to everyone, a protector of everyone. As Hokage, Naruto had sworn himself in to work tirelessly for what was best for everyone. That was incredibly difficult, sometimes impossible, but he had made a promise to all of Konoha to do his best, and he worked hard every day to keep that promise. Even his matches with Sasuke were really about the welfare of the village.

The paperwork was a necessary aspect of the job, but it wasn’t what being Hokage was all about. Besides, there was rarely a single piece of paper that crossed his desk that he didn’t already know the details about in some length. Most of the reports were just the documented evidence of decisions and verbal contracts previously made.

Naruto made sure he heard about everything that was important, but he just wasn’t a great reader. He wasn’t perfect. Reading made him tired, and unless it was really exciting, doing it for hours was sometimes impossible for him. Naruto relied on Sakura because he needed someone smart, someone who was close to him, someone he could trust to go through the documents with an attention to detail and make sure nothing was added or subtracted from what he expected it to be.

Then he made it look like all he did was slack off. He couldn’t help it. It was just too funny watching her get so upset!

He grinned to himself as he pulled his shirt the rest of the way over his head. Sakura would always get mad when he pulled any kind of prank, especially on her. She would be furious today when he snuck out. She’d track him down and then they would bicker, and she’d punch him… Ah. That was something to look forward to.

Which reminded him. Before he met with Sakura, he had to meet with the Jounin about Lucia. That wasn’t going to be nearly as pleasant—or funny. It was going to be like an aerobic exercise marathon convincing everyone that it wasn’t a risk to the village to let a woman like her stay here. Naruto expected a number of them to disagree. Shinobi were trained to be guarded, to expect the unexpected, and to look beneath harmless exteriors for malicious motives. If they didn’t bring objections, they weren’t doing their jobs properly. But just because there were real objections didn’t mean he wasn’t doing the right thing in overriding them.

Naruto had no doubt that Lucia had motives beyond what she was telling. Lucia was clearly smart, and even though she was not a Shinobi, there was an air about her that was like that of a Shinobi—an air of someone hiding things, someone who had a history of choosing between difficult options, someone who had been hurt and expected little in the way of kindness, nor intended to be kind where it did not help her.

There was an air of something else about her as well. Naruto recognized it in her eyes. He’d seen it many times before. It was ambition. Lucia was after something, he was certain, but… not all ambitions were evil. He couldn’t assume she was dangerous to Konoha anymore than he could assume she was not. And if she was dangerous to Konoha, the safest place for her to be was right under his nose where he could keep an eye on her.

But he couldn’t let on that he was suspicious. The village was always watching him. They took cues from him, sometimes unconsciously, and if he let on that he was suspicious it would breed suspicion in others. It might even cause others to lash out. That was what fear did to people, even to Konoha Shinobi who had no reason to think they were in any danger from a lone woman and her two children just because they were strangers.

Naruto was determined to employ one of the first rules he learned about being a Shinobi. He was going to look underneath the underneath—deeper than most Shinobi looked. That was his special gift. He was going to use it to find out what Lucia was after, but beneath that, he was going to discover what made her tick, and what she really cared about.

Besides, what he told Sakura and Sasuke was also true. He felt that Konoha had a responsibility to Lucia’s children. Whatever their mother’s ambition, Itachi Uchiha’s children had come to the land of their father seeking sanctuary. As Hokage, Naruto had an obligation to protect everyone who was a part of Konoha, not just those who he had grown up with, or those he liked, or even those he trusted, but everyone.

The children had done nothing wrong. For Konoha to turn its back on Itachi Uchiha’s children would be a refusal to acknowledge their connection to the village, and by extension would be a refusal to honor the sacrifice their father had made for Konoha. That was an attitude similar to the suspicion that had caused so much pain and suffering in the Uchiha Clan in the first place. It would have been a betrayal, and Naruto would not knowingly betray anyone.

Naruto finished dressing and tied Konoha’s leaf headband around his forehead. He looked at himself in the mirror. At twenty four years old, there were still a number of things he didn’t know about the world, but he felt good about this. He looked at the straight line of his mouth and stared into the burning glow of his own eyes. When something felt right, he trusted his instincts.

He wasn’t worried about the risks. Whatever possible dangers Lucia posed in getting what she was after, Naruto would make sure he would be able to protect Konoha. If she turned out to be more than just a risk, he would protect Konoha and those kids from whatever she was planning. There was no need to make compromises.

That was the whole purpose to being strong.

*****

Itachi awoke completely refreshed the morning after his arrival in Konoha. At first, he didn’t know quite where he was, but when memory flooded back, he bolted out of bed and immediately began getting ready.

He was going to join Konoha’s ninja Academy! Well, he reminded himself, he was going to ask to join anyway, and let those in charge determine whether or not it was allowed. He recalled what his uncle Sasuke had done with his hand with awe—the blue light, the energy, the piercing sound like many birds twittering in unison. If he could do something like that, he would never have to fear someone like Gehard ever again.

He paused in the act of pulling on his second shoe. What if they said no? He thought about it as he got to his feet. If he was denied the opportunity to train as a ninja, he would ask if there was anything he could do to make himself eligible. Maybe if he just kept asking…

Itachi tried to stop thinking about the possibility of being denied as he made his way downstairs. He took the narrow stairs two at a time, still in amazement that he was living here. In some ways, it felt like a rustic vacation rather than the severe upheaval it really was. In other ways, he felt like he had become someone else. He supposed it hadn’t quite sunk in yet.

His mother had seemed pretty adamant that they wouldn’t be returning to their former life. What was she planning for them to do? She said she had some money in this country, but how long would those funds keep them afloat? Would his mother take a job somewhere? What if he had to provide for the family when the money ran out? Was that what ninja Academy was about? Providing for their future? As a fallback, he could probably make a decent living as an accountant after he grew up. That might be why his mother had brought his textbooks.

“Good morning,” his mother’s voice called to him when he was still on the stairs.

Itachi wound around the corner and over to the breakfast bar of the little kitchen that overlooked their one communal room. His mother was standing by the sink in a green summer dress, her dark hair still a hopeless mess of curls in this climate. She seemed to be testing the running water. Itachi climbed up on one of the wooden stools facing the breakfast bar and leaned toward her across the counter top.

“Did you sleep well?” his mother asked.

“Like the dead. I forgot where I was.”

“Almost thirteen hours,” his mother informed him. “It’s nearly midmorning. Rina might still be asleep.”

He hadn’t realized it had been quite that long or was quite that late. His stomach rumbled plaintively, but he knew they didn’t have any food, so he didn’t ask for breakfast.

“What’s the plan today?” he asked instead. He assumed she had made a plan.

“Going to the market,” his mother responded, “since we have no supplies, limited furnishings, and nothing left of our stores. We have a little money left.”

Before he could dwell on that, a knock sounded at the door. “I’ll get it,” he mumbled, and slid off the stool to cross their tiny living room to the door. He peered first through the small vertical window with etched glass, but all he could make out were the colors red and gray.

Itachi opened the door and barely stifled a gasp. A large man blocked the doorway. He was dressed in armor, his front torso sheathed in thick brown leather and protected by a series of overlapping plates. Itachi’s mind flitted through several alarming reasons a warrior like this might come to their doorstep, but the man’s face was not nearly as frightening as his physique, and Itachi relaxed. He had one of the most pleasant faces Itachi had ever seen in fact, round and chubby and painted with the content, closed-mouthed smile of a man who drifted through life mostly satisfied with his lot.

As imposing as the man was, it took Itachi a moment to register the blonde woman standing next to him. The woman was engulfed almost entirely by the man’s shadow. She carried an equally chubby-faced infant in her arms, a small bundle wrapped in a soft blanket and sleeping soundly. Although less physically imposing than the man, when this woman smiled, she dazzled.

“You must be Itachi!” she exclaimed. She turned to the man beside her. “He does look like his father, doesn’t he, Choji? Definitely Uchiha. He almost looks like he could be Sasuke’s kid.”

“Hmm…” Choji said absently. “He looks hungry. Kinda scrawny-looking. He should eat more.”

“I’m Ino Akimichi and this is my husband Choji,” the woman announced, seemingly undeterred by this response, or at least willing to run right past it. “We just got back from a meeting with the Hokage. He told us about you and asked us to stop by.”

“We brought a food basket,” Choji added, as if this was the most important aspect of their visit around which all conversation must inevitably gravitate. At the moment, Itachi didn’t disagree with the sentiment. He was starving.

“I’m Itachi,” he replied with as much deference and politeness as he could muster. “Itachi… Van Alstyne.” He flushed as he stumbled over the adjustment. “Please come in.”

He opened the door for their guests and made room for them to enter. Now that they had company, he was a little ashamed of his family’s living arrangements. His house back home had had a white tiled foyer, dark hickory wood furnishings, plush white carpets, a grand staircase, an interior balcony, and two upper levels with more bedrooms than their family had needed. His home now was just a narrow, two-level house with barely enough living space to keep it from feeling claustrophobic. The furniture was old and worn and they had nothing to offer their guests except water and maybe a little of what remained of the tea.

Itachi noted immediately that in contrast their guests were well-to-do. He could spot the mannerisms of old, wealthy families, having gone to school with their children all his life, and Choji in particular had the air of a man whose daily needs were taken care of and who was generally at ease with himself. Both Choji and Ino were ninja certainly, judging by their gear, but beneath the jerkins, their clothes were of good quality—strong colors and soft fabrics with subtle textured patterns and a hint of understated fashion. They also wore what looked like a family crest as part of the pattern of their clothes, though the symbols themselves were meaningless to Itachi. What really gave it away, though, was Ino’s jewelry. The gems in her ears were of a modest size, but they were of superior quality, and caught the light whenever she moved her head.

“Welcome,” Itachi’s mother said from the bottom of the staircase, from where she seemed to descending. She crossed the room to greet their guests with graceful gestures and a warm smile. “I’m Lucia Van Alstyne. This is my son Itachi. My daughter Rina is getting ready. What brings us the pleasure of your company?”

“Naruto told us about you this morning,” Choji said. “I did not know Itachi Uchiha personally, but it sounds like a good story.”

Ino’s eyes bulged, presumably at her husband’s directness. “We thought we’d come by and see how you’re getting along,” she said hastily.

Choji lifted a large cloth bag slung casually over his elbow. “And we brought you some food.”

“That is very kind, thank you,” Itachi’s mother said. She directed Itachi to relieve their guests of the burden, which Itachi leaped immediately to do.

When he took the bag from Choji’s arm, part of his brain registered how strong Choji must be. The bag was filled with food, including—from what he could see—garden vegetables, two bags of rice, and containers filled with sugar, sauce, and the like. Choji had lifted it casually with one hand, but it weighted almost more than Itachi could carry with both arms. He grunted as he hoisted the sack and labored as far as the kitchen pantry before having to set it down.

“Isn’t it heavy?” Ino called to him. “I couldn’t carry it myself. Do you believe Choji eats almost that much in a day?” She laughed and patted her husband’s arm affectionately. Choji smiled as if proud. His wife turned to Lucia. “Do you need any help putting anything away?”

“I haven’t determined quite where it should all go yet,” Itachi’s mother said, looking at the cupboards in the kitchen a bit quizzically. “I assume it will be all right where it is for at least a little while. Can I help either of you to some tea? And would you like to sit down?” She looked pointedly down at the baby in Mrs. Akimichi’s arms and nodded to the table and chairs by the window. She smiled. “I know how heavy they can get.”

“Oh, he doesn’t weigh too much yet!” Ino said, and beamed with the brightness of a new mother still glowing with wonderment and excited to share her child with everyone. “Would like to see him?”

“Of course.”

Itachi left the women to gab about the baby and thanked Choji for the food he had brought. “I wasn’t sure what we were going to do for breakfast,” he confessed.

Choji smiled in a way that made Itachi feel like this ninja was the nicest man he had ever met. “Make sure you eat the vegetables while they’re ripe,” he suggested. “My wife grew them in the garden herself and she is quite proud. She’s also quite vain so it won’t hurt you to compliment her on their quality.” He winked. “But just between you and me, there’s a side of beef and a whole chicken in there too. A man needs meat to make him strong!” He laughed loudly, startling Ino, whose eyebrows knitted in irritation. Ino had passed the baby to Itachi’s mother, who was rocking him with a pleasant, thoughtful look on her face, seemingly oblivious to anything else.

“Can I ask you a question?” Itachi ventured, thinking that he liked these people very much and feeling less apprehensive all of a sudden about the possibilities in his future.

“Hmm?” Choji said. “Go ahead.”

“How do you get into ninja school?”

Choji tapped his young wife on the shoulder. “Did you hear that, Ino? Little Itachi wants to know about Academy. Naruto was right.” He smiled at Itachi. “The Hokage thought you would ask.”

Itachi’s mother looked up too, but didn’t say anything.

“Most Konoha Shinobi are Konoha born and belong to ninja families that live here,” Choji said in answer to his question, “but it’s not totally unheard of for someone not born here to enter. Academy’s tough, though,” Choji warned. “And most kids start pretty young, around seven or eight these days. It used to be younger, and even now most kids get some training at home before ever setting foot on Academy grounds.”

“But,” Ino interrupted encouragingly. “There are no real consistencies in age after that. You advance to Genin when you pass the Academy test, and advance to Chuunin with the Chuunin test and the recommendation of your elders and the Hokage, and then to Jounin likewise. Some people don’t ever pass beyond Genin or Chuunin. Others advance very quickly. It just depends on the person.”

“Some also die in training,” Choji added. “It’s more common to drop out these days in the learning stages, but casualties do happen, and if you make it to Chuunin, you’re considered battle ready, so of course that poses dangers. Being a ninja isn’t easy. It’s real tough.”

Their faces were decidedly grave when they looked at him. It made Itachi feel a little nervous again, but not deterred. He had done a lot of things that were dangerous, and had been lucky more than once. He glanced at his mother, but her face was turned toward the baby. He wasn’t certain if she had even heard.

“Would they let me enter?” Itachi asked.

“That depends partly on you, I think,” Ino said, “on your reasons, and some other things. Iruka will decide, with the Hokage’s permission of course. But even if you’re allowed, you would have to work awfully hard to catch up. And it can’t be easy as an outsider.”

“You’ve got Uchiha in you, though,” Choji said. “So that might balance it out.”

Itachi didn’t understand what that meant. “Why?”

“Uchiha are special,” Ino said. “Your father was reputably one of the best ninja there ever was, and Sasuke is…” She laughed. “I had such a crush on him when I was your age! Oh my, that seems like so long ago.” After so much gravity, her laughing smile was so contagious Itachi found himself smiling too. “Sasuke was just so cool. At eight, he did everything so well. He had so many admirers. He was a star from the day he set foot in the Academy.”

“I didn’t think he was that great,” Choji mumbled.

“Oh, I should say all the girls admired him!” Ino amended. “A good number of the boys hated him!” She laughed all the harder at the surly frown deepening on Choji’s face. “I can’t believe how silly I was then. I thought the best men were just made pretty and naturally ought to be bursting with talent.” She touched her husband’s arm and said softly. “How wrong I was.”

“Are you saying I’m not pretty?” Choji said, putting on a churlish expression. “Or that my jutsu do not impress you?”

Ino’s face turned bright pink. “No no no! Not at all. You are very handsome! And very talented! That’s not what I meant!”

Choji roared with laughter and patted her hand. “It’s okay, Ino. My ego is not so big as the rest of me. I’m glad you fancied someone like Sasuke. Makes winning you more satisfying.”

Ino subsided, still pink-faced with embarrassment.

“Yeah,” Itachi said quietly to himself, though it was without meaning. Privately, he was not sure what to think of Sasuke. A part of him wanted his uncle’s attention and approval. He wasn’t even sure why. He had always felt like there was a hole in his life, even when he had called Gerhard father, and now that Gehard was gone, and his real father was revealed dead, it was just his mom and sister.

The idea of a cool ninja for an uncle had sounded great at first, but he knew that it was unlikely to amount to anything. His father had murdered his uncle’s family, so it was no surprise when Sasuke had rebuffed him. Even so, Itachi couldn’t help thinking that if he somehow proved himself, it wouldn’t matter. He decided to change the subject. “So… I should talk to Iruka then?”

“Good memory,” Choji praised him. “You listen well. That’s a good ninja skill to have. Talk to Iruka. I’m pretty sure that the Hokage will want to let you try if that is your wish, so Iruka is the one to convince. Luckily, Naruto and Iruka have a close bond. Iruka was Naruto’s Academy teacher, you know.”

“Naruto was also the worst student in the Academy when we were there,” Ino added.

“Really?” Itachi asked. How did the worst student become Hokage of the village?

“Oh yes!” Ino laughed. “I mean, I wasn’t that great myself in the beginning, but Naruto was abysmal! He was way behind the rest of us, so he might empathize with you starting out so far behind. That is… if you really want to do this.”

“I really do.”

Ino smiled at him.

At that moment, Rina came shuffling down the stairs, wearing the same blue dress she had worn to dinner yesterday. It was one of three outfits she now owned, and the only one left that was still clean. She smiled at Itachi and their guests without saying anything and sat down where she was on the bottom step.

“This is my sister Rina,” Itachi said. “Rina, this is Ino and Choji Akimichi. They brought us some food, and they’re talking to me—to us—about ninja Academy.”

Rina waved a hand with a polite smile and looked questioningly at Itachi.

“Does this village have a music school?” Itachi asked for his sister.

“Uh, no,” Ino said. “Not really. We use music for a lot of things, but we don’t have a school.” She smiled at Rina. “You like music?”

Rina nodded, elbows on her knees and chin in hands, her eyes on Ino now.

“She wanted to study music to be a composer,” Itachi explained to the Akimichis. “Last year she was singled out to perform an original piece in a concert at the end of the year for this prestigious competition, but…” He didn’t know what to say. Rina’s face was hard to read.

“Some ninja use sound in jutsu,” Choji said. “Pretty advanced work, but if Rina is that good at music, maybe she would have an aptitude.”

“Hear that, Rina?” Itachi said, grateful for something that might perk up his sister’s deflated spirits. She was usually more animated than this. “Maybe you could learn to use music in jutsu!”

Rina nodded, still without saying anything.

“Where can we find Iruka?” Itachi asked, turning back to the Akimichis.

“At the Academy,” Choji answered. “He supervises all the classes, so you’ll probably find him wandering about the grounds. He has a distinctive scar across his nose.” He gestured with his hand what it looked like.

Suddenly, Itachi’s mother interrupted the conversation. “Why don’t you make some breakfast for yourself and your sister while I talk with our guests?” she suggested. “I don’t want you to go hungry.”

Itachi turned at the sound of her voice. He had almost forgotten she was there. She stood by the window, the Akimichi baby still asleep in her arms. “When you’ve eaten, you and Rina can go find this school. As we discussed, it’s your choice what you want to do as long as you commit to doing something. There’s some money in my coat. See if you can’t find some supplies on your way home to get us through the next couple of days. I will be here if you need me for anything.”

Itachi recognized her tone. She wanted to talk to the Akimichis without them around.
Rina got up from her spot on the step and rummaged in their mother’s coat until she came up with the money stowed safely in a drawstring purse. Rina came to stand beside Itachi and handed the purse to him. He deposited it in his pocket.

“All right,” he agreed.

His mother smiled and turned to the Akimichis. “Would you like to talk outdoors?” she said to their guests. “It is a nice day and I’m afraid I have little to offer you inside. We can take some chairs out with us to the porch and enjoy the sun.”

The Akimichis agreed to this. Choji managed to pick up three of their family’s dining table chairs and haul them outside for himself, his wife, and Itachi’s mother. They shut the door behind them.

After the adults exited, Itachi dashed into the kitchen to see what breakfast could be made from what the Akimichis had brought. He found some rolls for himself and Rina, followed by apples and a handful of nuts. It would have to do. He didn’t have the ability to really cook anything without pans or cooking utensils, and this would be faster anyway. He wanted to get to the school.

Rina pulled herself up on the stool Itachi had sat on when he first woke up. She leaned across the counter the way he had too, her arms flung out in front of her and her chin hovering over her clasped hands. Her face had a glum look.

“What are you thinking, Rina?” he asked as he set her share of breakfast in front of her at the breakfast bar. He stuffed his own face quickly.

“I don’t know about Academy,” she said while picking at her roll.

“You don’t want to go?” He had hoped she’d find the novelty of ninja training interesting, but if it was as militant as Choji made it sound, he couldn’t blame her for not wanting to get involved. Rina wasn’t a timid girl. In fact, she was rather competitive, but she wasn’t the type to throw herself into situations where she might incur bodily harm. She tended to shy away from anything obviously risky. They were different that way.

“No, I’ll go,” she said. Her chin hit the counter and she sighed. “It’s a good idea. I just really wanted to be a composer.”

“Well, no one says you have to stop writing music,” he said, “or stop singing.”

She looked down at the countertop and dismissed his optimism. “No one to listen.”

“I’ll listen.”

She rolled her cheek on her arm and looked up at him with cow eyes. “Will you help me finish my piece?”

“Did you bring it with you?”

“It was in the bag you packed for me. I checked.”

He smiled at her. She had been working on that thing for months, taking it to her classes every day and getting help from the adults at her music school. He was glad she had brought it along, since they had had to leave her portfolio and his guitar and everything else they valued behind.

“Okay,” he said. “You agree to give this place a shot and I promise I’ll help you finish your piece. I’ll bet you could even send it back to the Conservatory for the contest. Maybe they’ll allow someone else to sing it at the concert. There’s that one guitarist you like at your school...”

“Anton Landseer.”

“Yeah. Well, he’s way better than me anyway. I know you wanted me to learn it, but to be honest, you wrote something really hard and I’m not that good. It’d be better if he could play it, right? And I’m sure one of your other classmates could sing and play the piano part. Then at least it would still be heard and you’d be right on track for being a composer.”

She nodded, looking a little happier at this prospect.

“They might go on tour too,” he added. “Wasn’t that part of it?”

“The winners, yeah,” she said.

“Well if they go on tour, maybe they’d come to someplace around here, and then you could hear it, or even sing.”

She smiled. Her eyes were brighter.

“So,” he said, feeling encouraged by her reactions, “don’t give up! Just because something has changed doesn’t mean your dreams are hopeless. Keep writing and I’m sure something good will come of it eventually. Even if it it’s not accepted this time, don’t worry. You’re just a kid still. You will have more chances. In the meantime, we’re here, and we might have the opportunity to learn something really neat that we never would have gotten to a chance to learn at home, so…”

Rina nodded, more excitedly now, her dark eyes shining as she looked at him. “Thanks, Itachi.”

He sighed gratefully. “You want to come with me to find the Academy now?”

“Yeah.”

They were in agreement again.

*****

Lucia paused in what she had been about to broach to the Akimichis when her children opened the front door. They had eaten quickly, which she took to be an indication of their eagerness. Her son paused long enough outside the door for her to acknowledge his departure. He nodded as if to say “we’re going now.” Lucia smiled her consent. Choji and Ino, both sitting across from her, the latter once again holding her baby, twisted in their chairs and nodded to her children as well.

Rina stayed close to her brother’s side as they left, as pretty as a picture in her blue Revva Nightingale dress, the one Lucia had bought her in an auction during the fashion soiree following the unveiling of designer Revva’s newest winter line last year. It was possible that Rina would never own anymore dresses like that again. Lucia drew a deep breath to chase away lament. She could not change her decision now.

“Such polite children,” Ino said. “Both of them seem very sweet.”

“Thank you,” Lucia replied, at once warmed by this compliment and fearful of the day it might change. “And thank you again for your gifts. They were needed, and much appreciated.”

“It’s a crime to let those in need go hungry,” Choji said, leaning back in his chair and patting his stomach, “especially women and children foreign to our village. Least we could do.”

“Do you bear any messages to me from the Hokage as a result of the meeting that took place this morning?” Lucia asked, returning again from pleasantries to the matters at hand.

Choji and Ino were quiet for a moment.

“I would assume it was about more than breakfast and that more ninja that you were in attendance,” she said. “I would like to know my standing, if you are permitted to discuss it.”

“Yes,” Ino said. “All the Jounin currently not out on missions met this morning at the Hokage’s request. Naruto told us about you and your children. He let us know his decision, and there was a round, well several rounds really, of discussion about it. Naruto thought you should know there was a meeting. He would have come here himself, but he had to stay behind to answer questions. We didn’t mind coming. Choji volunteered actually. Naruto also thinks, and we agree, that it would be a good idea for as many Jounin as possible to meet you and welcome you here.”

“Thank you,” Lucia said. “It is a pleasure to find people willing to be kind in a situation such as this. Am I correct in assuming that I’m a prisoner here? At least for the time being?”

Ino and Choji exchanged glances. Lucia waited coolly. Perhaps she had been too blunt, but there was no other way to see it, and she had to know where she stood.

“Traditionally, everyone who lives in Konoha is bound to Konoha,” Ino said slowly. “We consider you a guest for the time being, not a prisoner, and when we have guests, they are always watched. That is just the way of a ninja village. It is the same during the Chuunin exams for example, and even the Shinobi who live here are not free agents. Konoha is a military base. To live here is to live for this village, to carry out missions as a soldier of this village, and to protect the people of this village. We believe in this bond.”

“As a guest,” Choji said, “there are certain things about the operations of this village and its Shinobi that you will never have access to.”

Lucia nodded. “I see. That is to be expected. I understand fully. What of my children?”

“That is where the Jounin disagree the most,” Ino said. “At least one of them is Itachi Uchiha’s child, no dispute there, and we have decided to treat them both as such. We respect and understand that because of that legacy, they have a heritage here, a heritage that goes back to the founding of this village. Naruto made it very clear why we can’t deny that legacy.”

“It will be up to them,” Choji said, “whether they want to be acknowledged as a part of this village or strictly as your children. It has to be a choice, and you should understand what it means. If your son and daughter train to be ninja, they will become part of Konoha. If they become Shinobi, which is not a given, they will serve the village. Shinobi secrets are not given out casually. To be a Shinobi of the Leaf is to belong to the Leaf forever. That’s not to say they can never physically leave the village, or that we would come between you in how you raise them, but as Leaf Shinobi, they will always be part of Konoha, and expected to put the village first…for life. The secret ways of Shinobi cannot be entrusted without that understanding. It is a choice that is also an obligation.” Choji paused to let that sink in, and then leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “What this means for you is that, as a guest, if you ever leave here, it will be without your children.”

It was what she had expected, but Lucia felt sick with heartache at the possibility that she could be severed from her children. It was necessary, but it was hard to hear aloud. She closed her eyes, saying nothing less her emotions become too obvious.

My babies…

But, of course, they would not be forever. Children grew up. It would happen whatever choices she made. Itachi was almost twelve. She was already seeing the onset of adolescence in him. As much as she wanted to hold onto him as her child, it was impossible. In bringing them here there was a risk of losing them, of a rift forming between herself and her children that one day she would not be able to reach across. But that had been a very real possibility the moment she had chosen to conceive a child by a Shinobi. That she had chosen Itachi Uchiha was an arrangement of fate as much as anything else. Even so, it was just a risk.

“I understand,” she said after she had composed herself. She could not let herself be intimidated. The ninja here spoke of service to the village as a foregone certainty, as if there was no other choice except to obey orders. She did not believe that. What her children would do had always been the greatest unknown of her gamble, but for the time being, there was no reason to be alarmed.

“Forgive me for asking,” Ino said. “But why would you want your children to become Shinobi? It is a hard life. I can’t imagine what a wreck I’ll be sending my own baby to Academy, and I fully understand the value of it.” She looked lovingly at the face of her child. The emotion on her face was one Lucia remembered well, and felt every time she looked at her own children.

“To worry is a parent’s right,” she replied. “It would be so no matter where we lived or what they grew up to be. Since we have come to live here, I think it is best for them to become a part of this village. We cannot leave, and I would not have them be outcasts. I know it is dangerous, but no more so than if we had not come here.”

“I suppose you must understand the dangers,” Ino said, “seeing as you and Itachi Uchiha…” She swallowed.

“I suppose you want to know about it.”

There was a moment of awkward silence.

Itachi Uchiha. Lucia closed her eyes. It was an effort not to let memory sweep her backward. Nine years felt like nothing. She had felt like she was drowning in remembrance since entering these lands.

She remembered the chill of the windowsill on her bare shoulder, the snow falling soft and silent beyond the glass, blanketing the world outside in an alien stillness of another world.

“Is this what you want?” She remembered she had asked him calmly, feeling nothing at all like calm.

“Yes.”

There had been no emotion on his face, the face that was now her child’s, but she had felt the resonance of his feelings clearly, had understood them instinctually. It was this that had confused her, had thrown her into a chaos of self-loathing and self-doubt, and turned her unwillingly (or willingly?) into his instrument.

“It’s not real,” she had said to him. She had said it without passion, and had meant to be understood dispassionately.

He had closed his eyes, stood still for a moment. He then approached her, touched her shoulder, ran his hand down her arm where the robe had slipped in a suggestive way she recognized. It startled her, but he only smiled in her ear.

“Nothing is.”

He had meant that too.

It was the first time in his company she had felt truly frightened.

Even now, sitting across from Ino and Choji, she could not fully explain what had transpired during those weeks, or why. She could not say it was a painful experience. She could not say it was a pleasurable experience. The lens with which she viewed it had been warped beyond her power to straighten. That such beautiful children had come of such a riddle was a mystery to her as great as the existence of God.

“Itachi and I were lovers of circumstance,” she said finally. “Our paths crossed. It was a tryst, or a series of trysts, driven by something that is difficult for me to define, even now. But then, I have made many choices in life where victory and regret felt the same.”

Ino was staring at her with a stricken look on her face. “That’s…”

“Very like the thinking of many Shinobi,” Choji interrupted, and settled his wife by placing a large, warm hand on her knee. Ino turned her face toward her baby, but the appalled look had not completely vanished from her expression. Lucia supposed that to this happy couple, what she had just described must have sounded vaguely like an admittance of a masochistic relationship, or a meaningless one.

It depended what they assumed was true about Itachi. It was the same for her, and in that light, she didn’t know how to explain it. The appearance was different than the reality, but perhaps appearances was all there was. Even he had said so. In that light, nothing she remembered could be trusted.

“There’s one other thing we were asked to tell you,” Choji told her, perhaps as a way to change the direction of the conversation, perhaps for some other reason. “As Hokage, Naruto would like you and your family to come to watch his fight with Sasuke.”

“They are going to fight?” she asked, startled out of her momentary gloom. From the Hokage’s reaction to her son yesterday, she had thought the Hokage partial to the Uchiha. That had been coincidence, and something she had hoped would benefit her, but maybe not. Or perhaps it was not that kind of fight.

“Yep,” Choji said. “Anyway, Naruto specifically requested that you come.”

“Specifically?”

Choji nodded. “You and your children.”

This puzzled Lucia exceedingly. She did not quite have a handle on the Hokage yet. From the rumors, she had expected someone intimidating, perhaps austere, even threatening, and been pleasantly surprised that he was none of those things. She had also expected someone deviously brilliant, but from their first meeting, it had occurred to her that he might be a fool. Now she wasn’t so sure. Perhaps with this Hokage, it was best not to have expectations that might prove incorrect.

“All right,” she said. “I will be there.”

*****

As it turned out, the ninja Academy wasn’t hard to find.

Itachi knew they were close when they passed a class of school children younger than Rina lining up to throw knives at targets made of bunched hay or wood. Rina tugged on his sleeve to point out Tenten, smiling as she demonstrated a toss that spun a short knife end over end at an alarming speed to plunge solidly into a log forty meters away.

“Maybe we should ask her where Iruka is,” Rina suggested. “She’s nice.”

“I don’t want to interrupt the lesson,” Itachi replied. He stared in amazement as a child probably four years his junior imitated Tenten’s throw with not one knife, but two. His gaze lingered as he led Rina away. “I’m sure we can find him.”

Rina shrugged and followed him. The path led adjacent to the practice yard until it wrapped around one side of the schoolhouse and was obscured by a row of trees. Itachi and Rina ducked under the boughs of a maple and emerged on a paved road leading straight toward an entrance with stairs and a set of double doors.

“It’s pretty here,” Rina said.

Itachi looked around. Trees lined either side of the path, the trunks climbing into the sky and the twisted boughs forming a partial canopy overhead. The shadows of the branches and leaves dappled the path with spots of shade and sunlight. Plush grass on either side of the pathway transformed the road into a sheltered glen.

He was about to reply that it was indeed pretty when two students pushed open the double doors from the inside of the building. They stopped upon seeing them, a boy and girl, both roughly his own age. Itachi stopped too, staring without saying anything.

He sized up the boy, noting brown hair, dark eyes, a short-sleeved red shirt and muscles just starting to develop. He had an intense, aggressive expression that Itachi had never confronted in a peer before, not even in kids that disliked him in his previous school. It set him back, but although part of him wanted to provoke this kid just to see what he would do (probably kill him, he realized abstractedly), Itachi found his attention sliding to the girl. She was a slim, pale figure with short, light brown hair and warm brown eyes the color of caramel. Itachi’s eyes trailed to the black leather boots that covered her shins to the knee. He tried to recall when girls his age had gotten such long legs. All at once, he couldn’t think.

“Who are you?” It was the boy that had spoken

“Huh?” He blinked to chase away a sensation like tiny lights exploding in his skull just behind his eyes.

“I’ve never seen you before,” the boy said. “Who are you?”

“Itachi.”

“Like Itachi Uchiha?”

Itachi didn’t know what to say. “Yeah.”

The boy made a sound in his throat that sounded like a scoff.

“Do you know him?” Itachi asked.

“What?” His face twisted, lip curling and eyebrows crunching in an expression of jeering incredulity.

Itachi knew immediately that he had just said something stupid. Of course they know of him, he thought abstractedly. He’s a famous murderer. And he was long dead, so how would this kid know him? He fumbled for more information, something he could use to rephrase his question, and realized in that moment how much he didn’t know about his father, or himself, or this place.

“We’re looking for Iruka,” he said instead.

The boy scowled. He didn’t answer.

The girl glanced at her companion with a softness in her eyes that Itachi recognized as the sort of understanding a person developed for someone they had known a long time, especially someone with loud or obvious flaws.

“Iruka is on the first floor,” she said, and pointed toward the door from which they had come. “We saw him just a minute ago.” Her voice had a clarity to it that Itachi found appealing. He decided he liked her face. He found himself smiling at her and unable to stop.

“Thanks,” he said, and grinned broadly enough to show teeth.

She smiled back.

He strode forward, suddenly having to move. He walked as if his feet itched. It was an effort not to run. As he neared the girl, his gait took on a sauntering stroll. Rina followed him, trotting two steps for his every stride. “Maybe I’ll see you,” he said coolly as he passed.

“Maybe.”

Beside her, the boy’s face had stiffened like a rock, his scowl deepening to a dark, ugly frown. Itachi avoided his eyes, sensitive to a sudden blossoming of deep dislike between them, though they were strangers. He wasn’t sure what had just happened.

When he and Rina pushed passed the double doors he had to stop in the hallway. His heart was beating like a drum and he hadn’t done any running or climbing or fighting or anything.

Rina was standing there looking at him.

“What?” he demanded.

“I didn’t say anything!”

“Okay,” he said. “Sorry.” His thoughts hummed like there were bees in his head. He pushed a palm at the place between his eyes that seemed to be spinning until it stopped. “I don’t know what that was about,” he said, blinking to clear his vision. “Let’s go?”

She nodded.

They walked straight and looked down every intersecting hallway they crossed until they saw a man pulling his head out of a classroom doorway. He wore a green vest like many of the ninja Itachi had seen in the village. He also had a scar on his nose.

“Iruka?” Itachi called.

The man looked up and approached them with a quick pace that lengthened by the stride.

“Hey,” he said. His eyes widened as he took them in. “You must be Itachi. And Rina?”

“Yeah.” Itachi felt nervous again. It was as if the wave that had carried him high a moment ago had passed and left him dry among the shoals. “Were you expecting us?”

“No,” Iruka said, and waved for them to follow him further down the hall. “No, no. It’s just that I was talking to Naruto not ten minutes ago about you.” He stared at them for a moment. Itachi wondered what he saw. “Let’s go to my office, shall we?”

Itachi and Rina followed Iruka down the main corridor to the far back corner of the building. Iruka opened the door and gestured for the pair of them to enter ahead of him. Itachi glanced around at the teacher’s desk and the wall scrolls and books piled on a shelf in the corner as he entered. It was a bit of a cluttered space without being messy. A giant window on the far wall looked out onto the grassy lawns of the school grounds.

“Have a seat,” Iruka said. Itachi took the far chair nearest the window. Rina sat demurely on the edge the chair next to him, crossing her legs at the ankle and straightening her back as if she were being interviewed. Maybe they were. Itachi sat up straighter, mimicking his sister, as Iruka took his seat on the other side of the desk across from them both. “I know you’ve traveled a long way,” he said. “I thought you might need a few days to get adjusted. I was planning to visit you later this week, but here you are. What can I do for you?”

“We want to know if we can join the Academy,” Itachi said.

“You want to join?” He sounded a little surprised. “I thought you might ask first what it is was…” He peered at Itachi thoughtfully.

Itachi swallowed. This was the part where he had to convince Iruka that he really wanted to join, that his desire wasn’t just an idea or a lark, but something he wanted and understood the implications of.

“I want to learn how to be a ninja, like my father, or…” He flushed at Iruka’s incredulous expression, “at least ask about it. I mean, not like my father exactly, but a good...” Knowing he could not answer questions about his father, he flushed and changed directions. “I know how behind I would be, and I know I’m an outsider, and that it may not be allowed, but Choji—Akimichi?—He said I should ask you, and…” He was babbling like a little kid. The image of the eight year old in Tenten’s class flashed in his mind. He took a deep breath. “I just want a chance.”

“You really do want to join the Academy.” Itachi leaned back and scratched his head around the plated headband tied across his forehead.

“Is it allowed?” Itachi asked.

Iruka didn’t say anything for a moment. Itachi had the impression that Iruka was one of those teachers who was kind, and who he liked kids, but was also strict when it came to rules and regulations. “Joining the Academy isn’t like other schools,” he said at last. “And it’s not as simple as training to do the things ninja do. You have to know what it means. If you don’t, I really don’t think it’s the best choice for you.”

“I know,” Itachi said hurriedly. “I mean, I talked to the Akimichis already. I know it’s dangerous and difficult. I know I can get killed, and I know that I’m way behind too. But if you’ll let me, I still want to do it.”

Iruka smiled at him. “Well, you’ve got grit. That’s good, but it’s not quite what I meant when I said you need to know what it means to be a Shinobi. Being a Leaf Shinobi means being a soldier for Konoha. It is military training. More importantly, it is secretive military training exclusive to this country. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” Itachi did understand. “The problem is that I’m an outsider.”

“Well… yes. Right now you are.”

He countered quickly. “So I could become a Shinobi if I became a citizen of the Leaf?”

Iruka blinked. “You’re a perceptive kid. That’s smart, and mostly right, but don’t be too hasty. You have to understand fully what being a Shinobi means. To be a Shinobi of the Leaf is to put the Leaf first. Becoming a Shinobi is a lifelong commitment to Konoha, and a serious thing even for those born here. If you want to be a Shinobi, you will be beholden to the village. Once you do it, you can never go back.”

Itachi was silent for a moment, thinking this through.

“There are many people living in this village who do not become Shinobi,” Iruka added. “What I want you to understand it that it is not your only option. As a member of the village, you can enter training and then drop out, but if you persist and actually become a Shinobi, you would belong to the Leaf. Although your mother will be responsible for you on a personal level, she is a guest. When it comes to your duties, you would serve the village first. That can be hard. Sometimes Shinobi are required to keep secrets from their families, and if your mother ever decided to leave this place, you couldn’t go with her.”

Itachi swallowed. Iruka was not making a threat. In fact, Itachi did not detect anything remotely disquieting about the man. He clearly just wanted Itachi to understand the full consequences of what he was asking for.

“Right,” Itachi said. “But if I don’t make this commitment to the village, I’ll always be an outsider. I mean, Rina and me both. We’ll always be treated like foreigners, and we’ll be weaker than everybody here, and dependent on their protection, even though we’re not one of them.”

Iruka didn’t say anything.

Itachi thought hard. He recalled the way that boy had looked at him, the challenge he felt in his stare, and the way he had said “what?” He thought of the girl too, and about how absolutely off limits everything would be in a place like this if he didn’t adapt. He would never make friends if he couldn’t keep up. Maybe that was okay right now, when he was just a child, when he was still relying on his mother to take care of him, but some day it wouldn’t do, and that day was soon. Maybe it had already passed. He didn’t want to depend on his mother. He wanted to take care of her.

He thought about the coin purse in his pocket, and how light it was now to what it had been. He recalled the look on his mother’s face—cold and numb—when she had pawned her mother’s antique jewelry to fill that purse and finance their flight to this place. They had lost so much—family, friends, security, a beautiful house, fine clothes, his guitar, Rina’s piano, their first dreams…

And then it came back to him why they had left. He remembered the way Gehard had grabbed his mother about the throat, pulled her body taut, making her gasp just to breathe.

She likes it.

Itachi’s hands clenched. That was the first time he had seen it, the way Gehard treated her, but he knew it wasn’t the only time, had known for years that something just like that happened every time the black vase was in the window. He remembered his mother’s face when Gehard had kissed her while crushing her throat—strong, enduring—until he told her she liked it. Then her face had broken. He was sure of that now.

He remembered too the sound Gehard’s hand had made when it struck Rina’s cheek. The way Rina had just stopped speaking had made him almost as angry as when Gehard had cuffed his mother across the face. That someone should have the power to stop his sister’s voice was wrong.

That could never be home again. Never.

“Are you all right?” Iruka asked.

“Itachi?” Rina was looking at him anxiously.

Itachi’s jaw hurt. He must have been clenching it.

Last night, his mother had said that Gehard would come looking for them. Someday, he might find them.

Gehard had knocked him down so easily. He recalled the grasping feeling of not being able to breathe, the pain in his ribs, the cold ceramic floor tiles against his cheek, and the absolute shock and disempowerment that accompanied it. Even just a few months training in this place, he felt, and someone like Gehard wouldn’t be able to do that to him.

His real father had been a Shinobi. He didn’t understand why his mother had been with such a person, or why she had been with Gehard for that matter, but he didn’t care. His real father had been a Shinobi. His real father was dead, but he also had a living uncle who was a Shinobi now, an uncle who wouldn’t look at him long enough to acknowledge that he was real, but an uncle who was alive all the same. He wanted to exist in this place. He wanted something of his heritage, something that wasn’t Gehard, something that was him. He wanted the truth about his father too, however ugly it might be, and he knew that as long as he was an outsider, he would never get it.

“I’m staying here,” he said. His head was throbbing. “No matter what happens, I’m staying here, so… I want to be a Shinobi.”

Rina was looking at him with wide, fearful eyes.

“Are you sure?” Iruka said. “Are you really sure? You understand?” He sounded grave, but there was a look in his eye that seemed to smile.

“To give my life to the village. Yes.”

Rina swiveled in her chair, sitting up so stiffly her back arched. “I want to be a Shinobi of the Leaf too!” she exclaimed. “Please take me too!” Her face was set at its most stubborn and determined.

Iruka smiled at them both. “Okay. Okay. We’ll induct you formally tomorrow, but as of this minute then, you can consider yourselves bound to Konoha. The Hokage is your leader, but you’ll be given official directions by Jounin and Chuunin and even Genin now and again. If you’re given an official order, you must follow it. You are sure you understand?”

They both nodded.

“Under oath, do you accept?”

They nodded again.

“Well, I will see about classes for both of you then. Rina, you are easy enough, but Itachi, if you start with the other students your age, you will be outclassed in every category.”

“That’s okay,” he said.

“But do you want to be with people your age? I can put you with younger students. It’s up to you.”

“No,” he said, thinking again of that girl. “I’ll catch up.” He might look like a fool sometimes, but he would feel like a fool all the time in a class with eight year olds.

“I’m going to give both of you some standard textbooks on Shinobi rules and basic jutsu and chakra control,” Iruka said, and reached behind him to thumb through the volumes stacked on a shelf. “Ah. Here they are. These are overviews common to every village, not manuals on how to perform jutsu, but the faster you acquaint yourself with the concepts every Shinobi in training knows, the quicker you will be able to catch up. Rina, I hope the reading isn’t too difficult for a girl your age.”

“Rina’s a good reader,” Itachi advocated for his sister. He was thankful quite suddenly of the advanced schooling they had already had from the schools his mother had sent them to at great expense.

“One more thing,” Iruka said. “There is a match tonight between Naruto and Sasuke. I know that your mother is to be invited. I think the pair of you would learn a lot by coming as well. Do you think you can be there?”

Itachi gaped. A match between the Hokage and his uncle? “Yeah.”

Iruka handed them the textbooks. “Study as much as you can before you come. You’ll get more out of it.”

The book in Itachi’s hands felt heavy, but its familiarity gave him confidence. In his old school, he was used to reading a lot. Reading would be the easy part. He would catch up on that quickly. It was everything else that worried him, but he knew he couldn’t let himself think about it as a mountain. He had to think about it like a challenge. He was behind, so he would just have to work harder than everyone else.

Uchiha are special.

He hoped it was true, and that whatever it was about the Uchiha that was so special, he had inherited it from his father.

TBC

Please review! Substantial comments heartily solicited! This fic may seem slow, but it’s actually moving pretty quickly and will ramp up to something major. There’s a lot being developed in all the details. I’d like to know what was noticed (or not, lol) and enjoyed. All comments are welcome. Praises are gushed over. Criticisms are listened-to (but don’t make me cry T_T).