Chapter 19: Strength

For days, a sense of unease had taken root in my chest, growing stronger with each passing night of Itachi's absence. His first mission with the Anbu stretched into five long nights—five nights haunted by visions that blurred the line between dream and waking dread.

He perched with unsettling grace atop a light pole, his figure silhouetted against the night sky, a shadow that seemed to loom larger than life. The sight of him sent a shiver down my spine, but it was his eyes that truly shocked me to my core.

They were the Mangekyō Sharingan, swirling with a depth of power that was both mesmerizing and terrifying.

The Mangekyō Sharingan was known to awaken through intense emotional experiences, often involving trauma or profound loss. My heart raced as I pondered the implications of this transformation. What could have pushed Itachi to the brink, causing him to awaken such formidable power?

As he bore down upon me from his perch, the expression on his face was chillingly foreign—a look of a cold, calculating killer that was so unlike the Itachi I knew and cared for.

A stranger wearing the face of my friend.

The visions left me with a heavy heart, confirming my deepest fears: Itachi's involvement with the Anbu was a major concern. The responsibilities he now carried threatened to change him in ways I couldn't bear to imagine.

On the day of Itachi's return, I could not contain my worry and anticipation. Eager and impatient, I crept beyond the main gates of the Hidden Leaf Village, my feet carrying me a mile down the path in the direction that seemed to call to me. The need to see him, to reassure myself of his safety and well-being, was overwhelming. I felt as if my heart was tied to his presence, and it tugged me forward with an urgency I couldn't deny.

I had to see him with my own two eyes—I needed to see him, to look into his eyes and find the friend I knew.

Slowly, I came to a full stop, my cat ears twitching at the sound of conversations drifting through the air beyond the trail I had been running on. People were approaching, and instinctively, I knew I needed to hide. Without a moment's hesitation, I darted into the forest to the side of the path, seeking refuge behind a sturdy tree shrouded in shadows.

As the voices grew louder and clearer, I strained to discern their words, my heart racing with curiosity and caution.

"You did well for your first Anbu mission," said a familiar voice, smooth and measured. "Better than most Anbu, I should say."

"Thank you, Captain."

My ears perked. That was Itachi. The pride in his voice sparked a brief warmth—relief that he sounded unharmed—but it couldn't chase away the lingering dread.

Carefully, I peeked from behind the tree, eyes narrowing to make out two figures moving down the path. They wore standard Anbu uniforms, masks concealing their faces. The one with white spiky hair wore a mask resembling a fox, while Itachi donned a mask that resembled a cat—an ironic choice, given my feline nature.

As I observed them, I realized I had seen the man with the fox mask before. He had grown from an older boy into a young man, his presence commanding and confident. I believed his name was...Kakashi.

I wanted to approach Itachi to call out and reveal myself, but the presence of Kakashi held me back. Though I knew little about him, one fact was undeniable: he was strong and dangerous. The memory of him from years ago replayed in my mind, and I couldn't shake the feeling that if he saw me now, he would see through my transformation without a second glance

As the two figures moved directly past my hiding spot, I stood as still as I could behind the tree, my heart pounding in my chest. I even held my breath, praying that I would remain unnoticed.

In the blink of an eye, Itachi was there—a sudden blur of motion that ended with him crouched low in front of me, his presence sharp and electric with urgency. Blood was spattered along the side of his Anbu mask, a stark reminder that his mission had not been without violence. His Sharingan spun with focused intensity, locking onto the threat with chilling precision.

His hand shot out, swift and sure, fingers closing around someone else's wrist—tight, unyielding.

Only then did I see it.

A kunai hovered just inches from my throat, the cold steel glinting in the pale light, its edge brushing the soft white fur at my neck. The blade trembled ever so slightly, held back only by Itachi's grip. Behind me, I could feel it—a presence coiled like a spring, lethal and overwhelming.

A killer.

"Stop, Captain," Itachi insisted, his grip like iron around Kakashi's wrist, preventing any further movement of the kunai toward me.

"You're aware this is a transformation jutsu," Kakashi replied coolly, his voice calm but measured. "Protocol demands we subdue her and bring her in."

Hesitantly, I craned my neck to look over my shoulder.

Though much of Kakashi's face was obscured by the mask, I could see his eyes. To my surprise, his left eye displayed the Sharingan which sent a ripple of apprehension down my spine.

And then, like a crack splitting the surface of a frozen pond, a memory surged through me.

I was suddenly transported back to many winters ago. The haunting image of the boy in the spiral mask flashed before me, accompanied by the echo of his ominous warning:

"Let's not meet again. But if we do, you will wish you'd never saved me."

Yet, for reasons I couldn't quite comprehend, I no longer felt the same fear and dread that had clung to me at that moment. Instead, it had been replaced by a different emotion—something quieter, deeper as I remembered the sorrow in that eye, the grief that bled through his words.

How was it that I could recall that boy so vividly upon seeing Kakashi's Sharingan?

"If you so much as harm a single strand of her fur," Itachi said, voice like steel drawn in moonlight, "I will kill you. Or die trying."

His words shattered the air around us, and I turned my gaze back to him, stunned.

I had never seen Itachi like this—his face carved in fierce defiance, his presence crackling with protective fury. There was a side of him I had never glimpsed before. A depth that both startled and moved me.

Kakashi didn't move at first. Then, slowly, he relaxed his stance, lowering the kunai slightly. His voice came quieter this time, almost thoughtful.

"You know her?"

"I do," Itachi said without hesitation. "She's my friend."

At this revelation, Kakashi finally withdrew his kunai, the tension in the air dissipating as his left eye returned to its original color. Itachi deactivated his Sharingan as well, the swirling red fading into an ordinary gaze.

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As I looked up at Itachi, my heart sank.

Blood—dark, dried, and jarring—streaked his mask and splattered across his uniform. For a moment, I couldn't breathe. I froze, at a loss for words, feeling a whirlwind of conflicting emotions surge within me.

Without a word, he gently scooped me into his arms, holding me with a care that contrasted the harshness of his appearance. I felt the solid strength of him. My fur brushed against the dried blood on his armor, and a chill ran through me. He looked like a stranger cloaked in violence, and yet... he held and shielded me as if I were something fragile with the same arms that had, just hours ago, taken lives.

A part of me didn't want to believe what my eyes saw. He's still him, I told myself, clinging to that truth like a lifeline. He has to be.

"She's not an enemy," Itachi said firmly, turning his attention to Kakashi. "There's a reason she's using the transformation jutsu. She's a friend."

Friend.

The word settled in my chest with surprising weight. He said it like it was a declaration, a promise. And despite the chaos, I felt something anchor in me.

Kakashi tilted his head, his masked gaze studying me with calculated curiosity. "A friend, huh... You don't see many using a transformation for cuddles and tree-hopping. Well, I guess it's none of my business." He narrowed his eyes behind the mask. "Still... there's something familiar about you."

I shifted slightly in Itachi's arms, raising my head to meet Kakashi's gaze. "We crossed paths once. My name is Aki Natsuri, from the Land of Frost. And you?"

A flicker of recognition crossed his features. "Land of Frost... That's quite the distance." He paused before adding, "Kakashi Hatake."

Itachi's voice cut in—calm, but edged with something sharper. "Captain... that Sharingan of yours. It wasn't always yours. So tell me, whose side are you on?"

Kakashi turned his attention back to Itachi, placing a hand over his left eye. A faint shadow passed over his expression—grief long buried, but not forgotten. "This Sharingan was entrusted to me by a friend..." He paused, his tone contemplative, deliberately avoiding Itachi's direct question. "I have to go report back to Lord Danzo. I will leave first."

Before he could take his leave, I spoke up, my voice ringing with urgency. "Wait."

He paused. The tilt of his head, subtle and controlled, told me I had his attention.

"Your friend..." I hesitated, the question catching in my throat, feeling the weight of the question I was about to ask. "What was his name?"

I noticed Kakashi's subtle twitch at the unexpected question, sensing the internal deliberation as he weighed whether or not to answer.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he spoke, his voice lower, quieter. "Obito Uchiha."

The name rang through me like a bell tolling in the distance. Visions flashed—scenes and sorrow not my own—but I closed my eyes, letting the moment pass without succumbing to the flood.

As Kakashi turned again to leave, I spoke one final time. "Stand proud, Kakashi. You are cherished."

Instantly, he froze, his body tensing, becoming rigid. The words struck something—something deep.

But, he didn't turn back.

He didn't speak.

He just vanished into the dark, leaving only silence between the trees... and the weight of all that had passed.

I shifted in Itachi's arms to look at him

He protected me... even now, covered in blood and worn from battle, he chose to protect me. And yet, I couldn't shake the feeling that every mission, every drop of blood, pulled him further from the boy I had once met.

Please, I thought silently, don't let this life take the part of you that still sees me as a friend.

"...What were you doing out here, Aki?" Itachi's voice broke through the silence, drawing my attention back to him.

I looked up, my gaze locking onto the blood-spattered mask that obscured half his face. My chest tightened. "I was worried about you."

He didn't respond right away. There was a stillness to him—calculated, guarded. A quiet storm behind his silence.

"I...I don't want you to be in the Anbu," I finally admitted, the words tumbling out. "I know you don't have a choice. But...I still don't like it."

"There is nothing to it, Aki," Itachi replied, his gaze fixed ahead, avoiding mine as he began walking toward the village. "Whether it is the Anbu or something else, I will complete my missions regardless of what I must do. This is the life of a shinobi. There is no escaping this fact."

I shifted my gaze forward, contemplating the trail ahead. He was right. No matter what trials came our way, we had no choice but to forge onward. Yet, there was a part of me that resisted, that longed for a different path.

His voice came again, softer this time. "Does seeing me like this..." He hesitated. "...scare you?"

Something in me snapped. Anger—not at him, but at the pain he was willing to carry alone. Without thinking, I wriggled in his arms and raised my cat paws to his mask. It wasn't easy—paws weren't made for this—but I managed to push it aside, revealing his face beneath.

"No!" I said sharply, looking him dead in the eyes. "Listen to me, Itachi! I don't care if you're wearing a mask or if your hands are stained in blood. So long as you're you, so long as you're Itachi Uchiha, I will never be afraid of you."

His eyes widened. The reaction was slight, but real—startled, vulnerable. The carefully built walls around him cracked, if only for a moment.

I grinned, and with a light flick, poked his forehead. "If anything, you should be scared of me! You'll never get rid of me. I'm the dirt under your nails!"

A beat of silence passed—then his lips tugged into a smile. The tension melted from his shoulders, and for the first time that night, I saw something real and warm in his expression. He chuckled softly, the sound low but genuine.

His cheeks tinted with the faintest blush, though he didn't try to hide it. "Knowing you," he murmured, "I am afraid."

"Is that you, Itachi?" came a familiar voice, cutting gently through the hush of twilight.

Itachi and I turned toward the sound. A silhouette approached, familiar and warm even in the fading light—it was Izumi. Her presence carried a soft familiarity, like the scent of spring after a long winter.

"Izumi," Itachi acknowledged, reaching up with one hand to shift his mask to the side of his head.

"What a coincidence, running into you before I head out on my mission," she said with a light smile, though her voice held a sincere warmth.

"Where's your team?" Itachi asked, his tone level but attentive.

"Up ahead. Sensei said to regroup at the crossroads." She tilted her head slightly. "So... how was your first mission with the Anbu?"

I blinked, a bit surprised she already knew.

"It went well," Itachi answered simply, his voice giving nothing away.

"I knew it would. You always do well," Izumi replied with a soft, bashful smile that barely masked her admiration.

As her eyes flicked to the dried blood on his cheek, she reached into her pouch and pulled out a handkerchief—white, decorated with tiny daisies.

"Here, let me help you," she offered, stepping forward with the handkerchief raised towards his face. "You've got some blood on your cheek."

I tensed slightly in Itachi's arms, uncertain why. Maybe it was the ease with which she moved toward him, the quiet understanding that passed between them. She wasn't shaken by the blood. She wasn't afraid. That stirred something complicated in my chest.

Before she could reach him, Itachi stepped back, maintaining a respectful distance. His expression remained calm as he said, "That's okay, Izumi. I've got it." Using a hand, he wiped the smear from his cheek.

Izumi's smile faltered for just a breath, then softened with quiet concern. "Be sure to clean up properly before you get home. Mikoto will worry if she sees you like this."

He nodded, acknowledging her concern. "I will. Thanks."

She looked like she had more to say but checked the time instead. "My team's waiting. I should go. Do you think... maybe I could visit when I return? It's been a while since I saw Mikoto and Sasuke."

I glanced up at Itachi, curious how he would respond.

"Sure," he said at last. "Mother mentioned wanting to see you."

Her face lit up. "Then I'll bring some tamagoyaki for her and Sasuke. And... maybe some dango for you."

"You don't have to, Izumi," he replied, a faint frown tugging at his brow.

"It's no trouble," she said with a small laugh. "I'll see you when I'm back."

As she turned to leave, she paused beside us, surprising me by gently rubbing my head. "Take care, Whiskers," she said kindly before heading off, occasionally glancing back until she vanished around a bend.

Itachi's gaze lingered on where she'd gone. I followed his line of sight, then looked up at him.

"She's really sweet," I said quietly.

Itachi didn't respond immediately, prompting me to peer up at him. His brows were furrowed, and I wondered if he was worried about her going on her mission. Memories of Mina's earlier confession to Shisui resurfaced, and I couldn't help but feel a sense of déjà vu.

"When did you get yourself a girlfriend without telling me?" I teased, trying to lighten the mood. "As your friend, I have the right to know."

He shifted, turning back toward the trail leading to the village. "It's not like that," he replied, his tone unreadable.

"What do you mean?" I asked, genuinely confused.

"Remember what I told you—Izumi is just a friend,"

I squinted at him, unconvinced. "You don't like her?"

"I do," he admitted, his words making my heart skip a beat for reasons I couldn't quite pinpoint.

"I like her as a friend," he clarified.

I huffed, annoyed. "You and Shisui both keep turning down the nicest girls. Is it because of something I said before?"

He looked genuinely surprised. "Shisui?"

"Yes, him too," I said, crossing my paws. "Listen, you two don't have to worry about me anymore. Go out there and form relationships. I'll be fine. I'm not some kid that needs reassurance all the time. I hate to be the reason you two are holding back."

"It's—"

"And she obviously likes you," I cut in, gesturing toward the road Izumi had taken. "She adores your family, she can cook, and she even offered you sweets. What more do you need?"

He let out a sigh that held more weight than annoyance—like he understood exactly what I meant, but couldn't say the words I wanted to hear.

"I know," he said softly.

I tilted my head. "Then why—"

He looked down at me, his expression easing into something tender. "It's not because of you, Aki. None of it is. The choices I make... they're my own."

He reached up and ruffled my fur gently. "And don't worry—you're not getting rid of me that easily." A soft smile crept on his lips, "I'm also the dirt under your nails."

I grinned, standing on my hind legs and reaching out with my paws to ruffle his hair. "I see what you did there. I didn't know you could be so cheeky."

He laughed softly, the sound a low and comforting melody as he held my furry form steady and close. I settled back down, content in the moment.

As we walked back, I noticed he slowed his pace, perhaps savoring the tranquility of our time together. I knew we would have to part ways once we entered the village, but for now, I allowed myself to bask in the peace and comfort of the present. The path ahead was bathed in the soft golden hues of the setting sun, casting long shadows that danced playfully on the ground. The gentle breeze caressed our skin, carrying with it the lingering warmth of the day and whispering secrets of the world around us. I could hear the rhythmic rustle of leaves overhead, harmonizing with the distant chirping of crickets as they began their evening symphony.

This moment felt like a cherished memory from simpler times, when the worries of the world seemed far off and distant, and the weight of destiny had yet to cast its shadow over us. There was a sense of nostalgia in the air, a reminder of days when laughter came easily and the future was a canvas yet to be painted.

"Do you remember what you said once?" I murmured, my voice barely louder than the wind. "That change is inevitable... but what matters is that we hold on to each other."

He didn't speak right away, but his nod was slow, deliberate—an acknowledgment not just of the words, but of the weight they carried between us.

"You feel it too, don't you?" I asked as a cold breeze swept through the trees, curling around us like a whisper of the future—uncertain, shifting, inevitable.

"Yes," he said, his voice quiet, steady. But beneath the calm was something wary, like a shadow he couldn't shake.

"You and Shisui are burdened with so many responsibilities and difficult choices..." I paused, gathering the courage to speak my heart. "Leave the rest to me," I said firmly.

He looked down at me, blinking as if seeing me anew.

"I'll be the one who holds us together when everything else starts to fall apart—that much, you can count on," I vowed, my determination unwavering. "No matter what happens, I won't let go."

His expression softened, the tension that had lingered in his face finally easing. A rare warmth crept into his features, something close to relief.

"Aki..." His voice was gentler than I'd ever heard it. "You'll always have my support. I believe in you—no matter what."

A smile bloomed on my face, bright and full of something deeper than just joy—something unshakable. His faith in me didn't just give me strength.

It became my strength.