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Winter Release	By : Cepheus Category: Naruto > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 1260 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 16
- 17
- 18
Note: Itachi was
thirteen when he killed his clan; everyone mourns Naruto�s missed childhood, or
Sasuke�s. but you have to remember, Itachi had a
messed up childhood too. Being perfect does not mean you are happy. Perfection
often means pain.

Thanks to all the reviewers! And
HUGE thanks to my BETA Silent in Nightmares!

Cepheus: so� new
chapter. in this one, there is finally some plot
development! Hope you like� and don�t desert me! Review! :)

Another one of the �Itachi�s past� thingies. Enjoy� I
fucking did while writing it. I think there will be only one more left, the
Uchiha massacre.

��

Next update: really
soon I promise.

Rating: M (or is it some more?)

Summary: Kyuubi�s secret out. Akatsuki
attacking. Fighting for strength, and falling for your ex�best friend�s
older brother. Maybe Naruto will have to deal with more than requested�

Warnings: yaoi,
boy x boy relationship, angsty, torture, and such.
Mental as well. Flames will be used to warm up food. OC warning as well.

Disclaimer: Not own Naruto. Masashi Kishimoto
does.

�Talking�
�Thinking�
�Flashbacks, memories, dreams�

��

Winter Release

Chapter 17: Deceit

The silence
around him was almost deafening.

A part of him,
somewhere deep inside, hidden where he could not entirely reach it, was feeling
nauseated by the sight.

He didn�t know
when the feeling had started, the unfamiliar tug in his chest every time he
looked at the place he lived in, the compound, at the people who also lived
there.

It seemed so real,
but at the same time, nothing but a lie, and he felt another wave of hatred
fill him, much like it had years before, when he still couldn�t control his
emotion perfectly; one emotion, it was enough for him.

Hatred was
enough.

Sometimes he
wondered if he could have felt more, had he led things in a different
direction, but the answer was not important; his hatred made all the rest blur
away into nothingness, so focused that it was almost scary.

Was he living,
after all?

Maybe the blood
that was running in him wasn�t proof enough of his existence, seeing what his
family had brought him to become.

Maybe it was
what he was.

Something
inside him mourned for the chances he had never had. The fact that he was a
shinobi had already hindered what others would have called childhood, because
if you were to become a ninja you had to learn quickly that life was not a
gift, but an option.

Shinobi were
meant to take death, bring it to others, or accept it as it fell on them;
Itachi was living proof of this as his hands were marred by the blood of many
now not living anymore.

But to be a
genius, as everyone appointed him, meant he had not even the slightest chance
to live.

Perfect for this life meant having no life at all. What was the point of doing everything right,
if it was so common it brought no satisfaction?

Where were the
chances his brother had?

Where was what
everyone who was not perfect considered normality?

Many forgot, he himself forgot, that he was young. And still he was so
much better than anyone around, causing jealously, hatred, and regret.

He could admit
that maybe these kind of thoughts would mean he felt jealous towards what
others had that he did not� a life. A normal life where
making errors was accepted.

Where people learned by making mistakes.

But it was not.

He could not
feel, and he could not be jealous or envious; as he quietly stared from his
spot in the dark as around him people lived, happily or not, what was left to
him was to wonder if he would have been able to be the same, had he not chosen
to be a shinobi.

But he hadn�t
chosen it himself.

As part of the
main branch of the Uchiha, he�d been expected to take the path that led to a
ninja life. Everything that he was had been controlled and planned out for him,
expecting he would submit and agree as he had done.

Was he nothing
more than a weapon for his clan?

But then, he
had to admit, shinobi were meant to be weapons with no feelings; so he was a
perfect shinobi.

It was like a
vicious cycle.

If things had
been different, would he have been able to feel? Could someone have been able
to look at him for what he was, and not for his shallow perfection, appearance
and acting?

Deceit.

Maybe he was
really feeling something else. Maybe he was feeling regret. For something he never
had, for something he could not gain.

But he didn�t
know what it was, and he could not regret for the lack of something he had
never felt before.

��

Eyes stared at
the three in front of him; he should feel something. Anything.
After all, they came straight to him, with their typical Uchiha arrogance, to
inform him of the death, and apparent suicide, of his supposedly best friend,
Shisui.

But nothing
came.

He stared as
the three members of the Shinobi Police spoke with him, blatantly accusing him
of committing murder against his friend, even if it was not with words, but by
their actions.

Maybe he should
give them credit, after all, they were finally
starting to notice.

But their
words, though registering in his mind as he replied conveniently to them, meant
nothing to him, nor did their accusing glares, acting, or existence.

He was tired.

He could claim
he was just �annoyed,
but it would not be the truth.

He was tired of
this fake life, of having to keep up with a clan that had rendered him helpless,
tied and bound to something he could neither understand, nor accept; of having
to walk every day in front of people he hated, knowing they could only see the
perfect weapon and not the person.

If there still
was a person inside him. He could not be sure; perfect didn�t mean he had a
soul. Maybe he didn�t. Maybe he did. It was not worthy further concideration.

He realized
that many of this family, and many outside of it, in the village, did not
bother to look deeper inside of him because that was how life for a shinobi
was, but to realize that everything was based on shallow appearance, and that no
one cared enough to notice, bothered him.

Wasn�t there
anyone that could care for other something than perfection?

Would life in
the village continue like this forever, making the new generations of shinobi
and commoners to be just like the old ones?

In fact, these
were mere thoughts, as he did not care, but thinking of it made him feel even
more tired.

And to top a
life as his was, there was no way out.

Death meant
nothing to Itachi, as he believed in nothing; he had no need to have faith in
some bunch of divinities, or gods, or spirits that could make his life more
acceptable, as, by killing, he was already breaking what others would consider
his part of the �faith pact�.

He could not
believe in some supreme entity that could rule over humans, as only humans
could reason over their own lives, and did poorly enough on their own so that
they could blame everything on some Kami, or Divinity, or Fate.

Life was mere
existence, as death was the end. Period.

And living his
life in the village meant to be dead inside, but there was no possible way out;
leaving the village meant being considered a Nuke�nin, and he would thus be
forced to a life of running away.

He�d seen such
things happen before, as ANBU were created to trace down missing�nins and
traitors.

He�d seen
shinobi that didn�t want to kill anymore, retired in small villages, being
taken away from their wives and children and killed on the spot with no second
thought; he�d seen trained killers being reintegrated into society because of
their useful spying on different countries.

He�d seen
murderers being killed as well as many innocents that were caught in the middle
of the action.

Ninja claimed
to be better than the traitors that they chased down every day, but in fact
they were not, and Itachi could see it clearly. It was life.

Maybe, he
didn�t want to live in a normal way after all. There was no peace, as a
person�s actions were conditioned all his life.

As betrayal
was�

�So you are
suspicious of me?� his voice echoed through the air, a vibrant hiss that held
contempt at the three men that had turned their backs on him.

He didn�t know
why, since he�d killed the other with his hands, but hearing the Uchiha speak
so lowly about someone who had been twice as smart and strong than they were
made Itachi weaken his steely grasp on his emotionless mask.

Threatening to
loose his control over the only emotion he could feel and master �hatred.

He found his
Sharingan activated as he finished speaking. Another thing
that connected, at least virtually, him to �his� clan.

Like what he
had received. The perfection over everyone of the same blood.
Something he did not want, something he did not need, as he knew Sharingan
could be defeated and he knew how; he was perfect, after all.

The reply
cooled him down, and flared his hatred even more.

�Yes, brat,�
one of the three men in front of him hissed, hatred lacing his tone as well as
barely concealed disgust, displeasure (in seeing others keep someone younger
than him in higher consideration than they did him, probably) and arrogance (at
the foolish thought that someone like Itachi could really be better than him).

Another one of
the three took a step forward, a scowl marring his features, �Listen Itachi,�
he growled out in a pathetic imitation of a warning tone (that betrayed the
same feelings his companion�s mate had with his voice) �If you betray the clan,
you won�t go unpunished.�

He moved. Fast,
faster than anyone else could, unseen by the three that claimed to be better
than him �better than perfection� and in an instant he�d hit all of them with
ease, making their Sharingans turn into black eyes as
they fell on the ground with groans of pain.

Itachi felt his
cold hatred boil under the surface, but he could control it. He felt oddly
satisfied (was that it?) seeing them at his feet.

�As I said
moments ago,� his voice was cold, his eyes not even looking at them as he
spoke, �Don�t judge others� simply by your preconceptions, and by their
appearance��

He�d had enough
of it.

Enough of the false warmth, enough of the pretence, and enough of the
masks. His hatred was reaching places he�d not
known it could at first, being suddenly flooded by the intense need to end
their disgraceful lives as he�d done with Shisui�

�You assumed I
had patience,� his face was kept neutral and blank through all of this, being
unable to express his hatred through his expressions. �The clan, the clan,� he
stared without concern at the three, who shuddered and tried to stand again
under his scrutiny.

His father was
staring at him with more than hatred; he was afraid. Afraid of what Itachi
could do now, seeing his grip on his perfect weapon was wavering, and he had no
control over his son anymore.

He knew this
would come. But he still thought he could stop him. He owned Itachi! He had
every right to dispose of him, of his perfect soldier!

How could he be
this disrespectful?!

Itachi
continued, Sharingan orbs flashing dangerously. His mask, for a moment, was
lost, showing what he was keeping hidden under it. �You all fail to measure
your own capacity, and to realize the depths of my own ability, as a result of
which you now lie here in defeat.�

Now the three
were trying to stand up again, half�circling the younger Uchiha, glaring at him
with mixed emotions that now were fused with fear; to them, his speech met a
solid wall, as their lives were devoted to their clan, more than to the
village.

They grew up
together with such hatred, together with such a style of life, together with
thoughts of power and strength. They would use anything, anyone, in their lust
for supremacy.

�We had Shisui
keep an eye on you. Since your acceptance into the ANBU corps your way of
speaking has become strange indeed,� the man spat at Itachi, still retaining
the arrogance of his clan despite being on the ground. �What are you aiming
at?!�

Itachi�s
shoulders were relaxed as he replied. To him, this meant nothing.

�You hold onto
your organization, onto your clan, onto your name, refusing to see that such
things limit us and our capacity,� that �us� was shallow as he spoke it. �Us�
had no meaning for Itachi, since there had never been an �us� or a �we�
involving him. �It�s foolish to fear something we have yet to meet and know��

But they didn�t
want to change; not even when someone who had seen in his perfection what it
meant to be perfect and loathed it, someone who had realized what their
conservative mind prevented them from seeing, showed them, they would not
accept the truth of his words.

They were
doomed to end and rot away, and Itachi had already understood this; he�d given
them a last chance, the one they would not give him, but they had wasted it.

They were not
worthy the truth, hiding under lies and beliefs.

He stopped. It
did not matter. If it had before (it hadn�t) it did not now.

The figure known
as his father stepped in front of him in a last, hopeless attempt to prevent
the inevitable end.

Itachi had
thought it would have happened there. But it hadn�t.

But he knew
now. Knew what he had to do.

�Why did you
not come that night?� his father asked him. As if he didn�t know.

�In order to
reach the height,� Itachi replied. His voice was calm again, everything hidden
again under his mask of nothingness.

He could hear
his heart thump in his chest, calm and soothing. He could feel his entire body
follow his heartbeat.

�The what?� his
father asked again.

�This is beyond reality�, Fugaku thought. �He�s not sane
anymore, he can�t be controlled. My weapon cut my own hand as I took a hold of
it.�

For a second,
as Itachi struck out with a kunai in the middle of their clan�s symbol, not
even bothering to look as he did so, the Head of the Uchiha clan, Uchiha
Fugaku, wondered if he�d been messing with something bigger than him.

�Of my
capacity�,�� Itachi
murmured. In the silence, his voice was like a yell. �I�ve lost all hope for
this pathetic clan��

And despite his
brother�s yell, knowing someone that had not yet come to see the truth had
seen, his father falling on the ground and �begging� and lying, once again
fooling himself in thinking that he had tamed his weapon thanks to the son he
had no use for, his useless son coming to his aid, Itachi had no feeling at
all.

No remorse, no
shame, neither anger nor pain.

Only the knowledge that it did not matter. To bow to them, to lie, because not even the Uchiha
arrogance meant something to him.

They would all
die.

So even
allowing them to step away, thinking they had won, didn�t make Itachi feel
ashamed.

His Sharingan
shifted slowly, meeting the scared eyes of Sasuke, whose voice had made Itachi
realize it was not the moment; the purest form of the unwanted bloodline
showing clearly only for him to see, warning his brother that indeed, next time
he would teach him something really worth the time� and he wasn�t talking about
how to throw kunai.

��

There was no way in hell that this could
have happened, Kankurou could not accept it, he couldn�t believe it; Akatsuki
was taking away his little brother to extract his demon and kill him, and he
could not accept it.

Maybe they had a shaky start, because of
Shukaku and Gaara�s killer instinct, but they were both changed, both had grown
up. Kankurou cared for his little brother.

It took everything he had to control his
emotions as he followed the bird (a part of him wondered if such a bird even
existed in nature) with his little brother and the Akatsuki member towards the
desert, his mind returning to what had happened.

He couldn�t believe that Gaara had risked
his life only to protect Suna, but at the same time, he felt proud of it.

Now everything was in his hands �he had to
rescue his brother before anything else happened to him�

�Start
Flashback�

Sabaku no Kankurou was a die�hard pessimist.

No one in Suna, if asked, would have
denied the truth of this statement. Some would also add that he was somewhat of
a pervert, but his pessimism was even greater than his raging hormones, and it
was clear because all he could speak of in a day was of dangers, expected
attacks to Suna, and war.

Maybe it had something to do with how he
was trained and how he had to grow up, because having a sister like Temari was
not an easy ride, despite how she protected him when he was little (but he
would never admit that, not even under torture); and his younger brother,
Gaara, holder of the Ichibi no Shukaku, wasn�t making it easier for the second
born of the family.

Kankurou was not a believer in fate, like
Neji was, and he certainly was aware that life was not easy, but he was simply
convinced that if something could go badly, then it would.

He had a fair amount of examples, anyone
who would want to listen to his rambling would know �after all, they were his
favourite things to speak of, and he liked to repeat them many, many times.

To make his point clear, obviously.

Like when Sand got tricked by Otogakure,
the Kazekage was assassinated, and they had almost lost against Konoha; ok,
Kankurou had also predicted a raging war from the Village of the Leaf, something
that did not happen, but that was besides the point.

As far as he could see, a ninja�s life was
not something one could go giddy and happy about; Naruto had been that kind of
person, and he�d died. Even though Gaara didn�t believe the blond was dead.

In all his pessimism however, Kankurou was
glad to be able to add a few good things, of which he was grateful for.

Gaara was not out to destroy Suna anymore,
and he was the new Kazekage, and Sand was gaining its power and influence back.

All of this was thanks to said blond;
Kankurou would never hesitate in saying he respected Naruto. The loudmouth
might be dead now, but the puppeteer master would forever thank him because
he�d changed Gaara.

Because, as Kankurou now stared up at the
giant ball of hardened sand that was floating above Sunagakure, all he could
feel for his little brother who was fighting up there was admiration, and
worry.

Nonetheless, his stance was stiff and
straight, and his face hardened up in a frown, the paint covering half of it making
him resemble an old tale�s oni; but Kankurou had grown up as well, and even
though his clothes were still the same, on his back there wasn�t a puppet
covered in bandages, but instead a three�scroll holder.

Next to him were the Jounin commander of
Suna, one of the councillors under the Kazekage, and a group of Suna nin.

Kankurou frowned even more, knowing he
should have had known things weren�t going smoothly when Yuura,
captain of a Jounin squad residing on the wall surrounding Suna, had come back
dirty with blood that was not his, talking about a massive attack from two
figures that had left only him alive.

No one could kill a group of more than
twenty hard�trained shinobi so easily unless they had taken the men by
surprise; Kankurou could only now make his connection.

Akatsuki had attacked Sunagakure.

As far as he could see, Gaara was holding
himself off well enough, but the protective barrier he�d put up scared the
puppeteer master quite a bit; Gaara only used such strong protection when he
really felt threatened, or in serious trouble.

That could only mean his opponent was
strong.

�Hurry up!� he could hear the man at his
side order the group of Jounin behind them. �We�re going to backup
Kazekage�sama! Prepare yourself for battle, now!� his
face was set on a determined and rather angered expression as he gave his last
order. �Medical squad, set up a protective barrier and guide the civilians in
there!�

The group disappeared, and for a moment,
Kankurou and the man were the only ones left to stare at the raging battle
above their heads.

�Kankurou�,� the teen turned towards the
councillor. �You have to start thinking of the possibility that Gaara might go
crazy again,� his voice was restrained and low. �And a
scenario where Shukaku could come out as well.�

Kankurou felt a surge of rage pass through
his body, but restrained himself with difficulty, his chakra barely flaring up
at the audacity of the man.

How could he not trust their Kazekage
after everything he went through and did for Suna in those years?

�Nothing like this will happen, don�t be
ridiculous,� he stated. The absolute certainty of his words made the other turn
towards him in shock. �Gaara won�t harm the people of this village.�

It sounded wrong on his lips, since he�d
been the first in the past to run away in fright if even a bit of Gaara�s power
leaked out of his control; but now things were different.

The words Gaara spoke two years before,
staring at a sunset with emotionless eyes, were to be carved in Kankurou�s
memory forever; that was when he�d finally realized the extent of Naruto�s
influence on his little brother.

Kankurou had then been rather unsettled by
the council�s request for Gaara to be the new Kage of Kaze no Kuni, and he had not hesitated to explain to the red head about
his fears. Gaara would not hurt him, of that he had been sure.

Gaara�s reply had been heart warming and
stunning all at the same time, his words laced with a light desire� the faint
sound of hope.

�I know that
people see me only as a weapon, a monster to get rid of. I�ve seen myself as
such for years up to now� but I realized I had followed the wrong path� one I
did not earn with hard work, but instead with the easy way out,� Gaara�s eyes were lost in the
oranges and in the reds of the sun withdrawing from the sky, and Kankurou had
just stared at him, amazed.

�If I create my
own path, with my own hard work� maybe one day I will be like�,� Gaara had shaken his head with a
small smirk, his words meant for himself and not for his Nii�san. His voice turned
strong again. �I will be Kazekage, to
form a bond with this village, to protect it� to show everyone who I am so as
to finally be respected. Uzumaki Naruto taught me this
much.�

Then Gaara had turned to him, his green
eyes burning just as fiercely as the sun.

�I grew up to
hate and despise bonds with people, so much that I could only kill because of
that. People annoyed me because no one could understand. But he� he does. He
suffered the same pain as me, and questioned my stability and my beliefs.�
�
Kankurou couldn�t speak; such words,
coming from Gaara, touched him deeply. He too had been rejecting Gaara for
something that was not his fault. He�d always feared his brother, never trying
to understand.

But there Gaara was, forgiving him. Forgiving his coldness, his fear, and his well�hidden hatred.
When indeed, Kankurou knew, his brother had all rights to turn his back to Suna
and let it all go to waste.

�Hatred,
sadness, even happiness� to be able to share such emotions and feelings, that
is a bond, that is what I lacked and what he taught me� and now I wish to
understand it all even better.�

There it was.

Kankurou could feel himself warm up again.

Gaara had smiled.

Not a smirk, not an evil grin that spoke
of pain.

A small, gentle smile. A smile of
longing and determination.

�I want to be
needed by someone, not as a weapon� but as the proud Kazekage of Sand.�

Such had been Gaara�s words, and true to
his vow, the next day he�d claimed the role of Kazekage; Kankurou had never
respected his little brother more before then.

He turned to the village below his feet,
and saw many shinobi with their heads lifted upwards. And their words made him
smirk proudly.

�Do your best, Kazekage�sama!�

�Yeah,� he thought. �Do your best, little brother.�

�End Flashback�

But the Akatsuki bastard had been too
smart; he�d caused Gaara to drain up all his chakra in an attempt to protect
the village from a bomb, and then from the sand that he�d used as a shell (that
he could not control anymore when his chakra had disappeared due to his
fatigue) and then, Kankurou thought, he�d hit Gaara with a simple explosion,
thought he didn�t know the details.

Kankurou was furious �no one could harm
his family and get away with it. His eyes were not leaving the figure of the
bird as he saw it fly on the other side of the protective wall around Suna, and
saw it prepare to land.

The sight that met him as he made his way
through the passage was far from anything he could have thought to be possible;
the corpses of the shinobi were still on the ground, surrounded by blood (the
attack had come too fast for the ANBU to intervene and bury the bodies),
everyone dead.

It was a sight that made his stomach twist
painfully, but the teen ignored the feeling and continued running, determined
in catching up with Gaara�s captors.

His eyes set on his prey,
he stopped and cried out for the two figures that were moving away. A part of
him wondered why the two Akatsuki members were walking this calmly, as if they
didn�t think they would get attacked for kidnapping Suna�s Kage.

Both stilled.

The one that was crouched on the sand,
without speaking, turned towards him, and Kankurou felt his blood run cold; he
could clearly sense the strength and power of the figure that was looking at
him.

He�d been warned to not attack, because he
wasn�t strong enough to take the two of them, but he couldn�t stop.

Gaara�s life was at stake, and he was not
going to lose him.

�Give Gaara back!� he yelled out, his
voice bolder than he felt inside.

Deidara, who was off his bird and quite a
bit pissed off because of his arm�s ordeal (he was also wondering if he would
be able to reattach it later on), shifted and muttered profanities under his
breath, wanting to go as soon as possible.

He�d kind of wasted one of his pieces of
art to take Gaara with him, and even though he�d achieved his goal, it still
was a loss to him, since no one had appreciated his invention number 18 (one
that was created with his highest level chakra moulded with the exploding
clay).

After all, Sasori had been right, and it
didn�t bode well with Deidara, not at all; Gaara had been stronger than he�d
anticipated, and he now was in a bad mood. He didn�t need strange guys with
paint on their faces to come and demand his Jinchuuriki back.

It wasn�t nice at all.

Sasori sensed his annoyance and decided to
let him go. It would do the straw haired shinobi no good to start complaining
now �Sasori had no patience to share.

�Deidara, go ahead�,� he mentally rolled
his eyes at his partner.

The other cocked his head, but then nodded
and muttering a low �Yes, Sasori�danna,� he jumped on his bird once again, the
body of the Ichibi still clutched in its tail.

Kankurou narrowed his eyes �he could not
let them go!

Swiftly, he lifted his hands and took out
the three scrolls on the holder he had on his back, placing them on the ground
with a quick move and rolling them open in front of him, face set with
determination.

The first one had on it the kanji for karasu (crow), the one in the middle had
sanshouuo (salamander), and the last
one had kuroari (black ant).

Under the perplexed stare of a pissed off
Deidara and the blank one of Sasori, Kankurou clapped his hands and released
the seals on the scrolls; when the smoke cleared from around him, the sight was
impressive.

Around Kankurou there were three giant
puppets, connected with his hands by brilliant threads, so thin they resembled
a spider�s web; the three puppets were covered by a black robe made of the same
fabric of Kankurou�s clothes, and clicked as their master prepared himself for
the fight.

The first puppet had a somewhat human
shape, with four arms, and obviously was Kankurou�s favourite, the one he had
ever since his start as a puppeteer; the second and the third were
animal�shaped, one was a giant salamander with its tail slashing through the
air, and the other was an ant.

All of them were mildly imposing, and just
as dangerous.

Sasori�s eyes seemed to narrow as he
observed the technique of his opponent, �A
puppet jutsu?�

�I won�t let you go!� Kankurou readied
himself and moved his hand, his fingers dancing to control his puppet as Karasu
flew towards the two Akatsuki.

In the blink of an eye, not even the time
to speak a word, and Karasu�s attack was stopped in midair; Kankurou�s eyes
widened in shock when, from underneath the black outfit of his enemy, a long
tail appeared, catching his puppet in midair and thus nullifying his offensive.

�What�,� he mouthed in shock.

The worst thing was, the tail was clearly
made of the same material as his puppets were �what could this mean? Kankurou
felt his blood turn cold.

Sasori did not move, except for the tail
coming out of his outfit.

�I don�t like to let people wait, nor do I
like to wait myself. I�ll make this fast, and end this without further delay.�

��

Naruto could feel it; it was not something
he could easily pull off, but the sensation persisted and he could not let it
go.

He�d been thinking a lot lately, about
just how long he�d been staying in the Akatsuki�s hideout, alone but for
Itachi, and he was wondering how much longer he had to wait now. He was sure it
was at least one month, but time had no meaning when you are sealed in a dark
underground, with no strength, and no other distraction but a silent, brooding
shinobi.

The worst was that he�d been growing
accustomed to this life, and to Itachi�s almost constant presence. That didn�t
mean he would prefer it over freedom, but at least he was somewhat of an
optimist.

More so because every single gesture of
the black haired shinobi was so familiar to the blond that he was starting to
understand the hidden meaning of all the small movements Itachi made; he could
detect the change in his pace when Itachi made his way towards the secured part
of the undergrounds, if the shinobi was in a hurry or if he was merely taking
his time.

The way Itachi�s neck would tense when
Naruto moved from his futon, how his crimson eyes (but more often charcoal as
he didn�t keep the Sharingan activated for too long now) would follow him, how
his fingers would twitch when Naruto asked unanswered questions, and the way
his shoulders would relax slightly when instead Naruto spoke of unimportant
things.

And those emotionless eyes, unless maybe
he was simply fooling himself with seeing things that were not real, were not
as emotionless as he first thought.

He�d never been the one to read people
like a book, even if he could pick up details others couldn�t, but now, the
more he met Itachi�s stare, the more he could see something flicker inside
them.

Of course, part of him was crying bloody
murder at him, because he should not try to understand his enemy, not this way,
where it could be dangerous (Naruto had the tendency to be too forgiving and
selfless with people, even enemies, but he wasn�t aware of that trait).

But another part of him instead begged him
to just follow his heart, like all the other times.

Naruto started to wonder, as he stretched
around and massages his muscles, finally up to some light exercise, if he was
missing something.

Itachi was a genius, that much he knew,
and he�d always been thinking of him as such, but despite his resolve to look
�underneath the underneath� to understand why (why the hatred, why his acting, why the coldness�), he was still
considering Itachi as nothing but a murderer.

But� shinobi were meant to be murderers,
this was their life; Itachi had done something wrong, but not unforgivable.

Gaara had killed so many people, and
probably would continue to do so because he was used to it; it was the way he
grew up. But Naruto had made friends with him, and even if now Gaara was the
Kazekage and was going down his own path, without killing for fun, he could not
change his past.

Naruto could understand Gaara, because
he�d looked at him in another perspective.

Maybe Itachi was just like Gaara� maybe he
could� change perspectives�

If he had to be completely truthful with
himself, not counting his fellow rookie nine, all the shinobi he knew were
actually killers. They killed people so as to not be killed in their place. It
was a fact that the stronger ninja wins.

So why did some people have the
rights to kill, and others did not? Naruto didn�t want to end a person�s
life. He�d been sure once he could kill, but those were only words; he wasn�t
sure if he could really do it, not even to protect one he held close.

Ok, there were rules that could not be
broken; but Naruto knew that some rules were wrong. An ANBU could kill a
missing�nin even if the nin had left the life of
shinobi to settle down with a family. The village demanded justice, but this
was the village�s justice, not one that could apply to everyone.

Naruto knew this, and Naruto also knew
that some people could not get away.

No one would listen to the reasons of a
murderer, if he killed outside the rules.

The blond sighed as he moved his arms
slowly upwards, testing his muscles� reactions. He didn�t want to be like
everyone else. He wanted to be able to understand, and not be stopped by what
others thought.

He wanted to see further than those whose
eyes could only see what they wanted to. He himself was a victim of this, since
everyone but his close friends saw him as the demon. He was no good but for
Kyuubi, and he wanted to show everyone he and the demon were different beings.

How could he ask to be seen as a person,
if he couldn�t see others as more than what they looked like? Wasn�t this
called hypocrisy?

Naruto�s resolve steeled even more. He
wanted to understand. He wanted to understand Itachi, and he was going to
succeed.

Naruto bit his lip and closed his eyes;
there was something he could not put his finger on� he was missing something.
With Itachi, it always looked like he was missing something.

A set of footsteps stopped his trail of
thoughts as well as his stretching; Naruto noticed a different echo of Itachi�s
pace, and wondered what had put the Uchiha in such a bad mood.

That was quite amusing on his part, Naruto
had to admit it. Be able to recognize Itachi�s mood from the way he walked� not
that he would need such knowledge, since it couldn�t be applied to any other
person but Itachi�

�Maybe I need a
hobby,� Naruto
pondered amusedly.

The Uchiha appeared in the room without
anything more than a glance towards the blond teen, and Naruto decided it was
pointless to stop stretching only because the other was here; Itachi�s posture
was stiff, and the blond knew someone had pissed him off, but that didn�t mean
he would bug him.

Trying to ignore his (distracting)
presence, Naruto pictured in his mind the basic Taijutsu exercises, deciding
that it was the only way he could see if his strength was back; he could not
use chakra, and Taijutsu didn�t need it.

He wasn�t Lee, but in the years Jiraiya
had trained him, he�d started to get better with martial arts, even if his
Genjutsu were still horrible, and his Ninjutsu was average.

Soon enough, Naruto cleared his mind (or
at least he tried to as much as he could, and that was acceptable) and started
practicing, feeling relieved to see his wounds had healed almost completely,
and he was not that rusty, even though he hadn�t been able to train properly
ever since his capture.

Through his assessing of his own
possibilities, feeling rather unnerved because of the wards on his wrists and
ankles (he�d almost forgotten he had them on by that time), that were
preventing him from using his chakra, he could feel
Itachi�s eyes on him.

Naruto suddenly felt the need to speak;
there was something he wanted to ask, and even if he didn�t know how much
longer he would stay imprisoned, he had the feeling something was going to happen
soon, and he needed to be ready.

He tried to restrain himself, knowing it
was not the best moment to speak, but just looking at the older shinobi caused
Naruto to remember. Remember the Uchiha mansion and the darkened rooms, the
oppressing and almost deathly silence that echoed through the compound.

He stopped and straightened. His blue eyes
were serious as he stared hard at Itachi, but not just at the Itachi with the
Akatsuki outfit, whose eyes were cold and inexpressive. He wanted to look past that, to the person he�d seen in the photo.

To the Itachi that stood near his father
and mother, with a young Sasuke, smiling. The Itachi that caused the massacre
when he was thirteen, the Itachi that let his emotion rule his actions before
becoming like this.

For a moment, he saw both of them,
standing together, one in his mind, the other for real; and there was something
missing, the one that stood in�between the two of them. The real Itachi, the one that was neither
the cold murderer nor the smiling mask.

What had happened to Itachi? How could someone kill his entire family one night, especially
since he was young (younger than Naruto was now).

Or maybe that was not the real question.
Maybe the real question was another.

And the words were out of his lips without
him noticing.

�Why the hatred?�

The words echoed in the room, and the
silence seemed to thicken even more, uncomfortably so, threatening to choke
Naruto. But the blond swallowed and, when Itachi�s glare turned towards him in
a flash, shoulders stiffening and orbs turned crimson, he did not look down.

He felt a cold shudder run down his back;
even though his question could have seemed out of the blue and totally
nonsensical, he knew Itachi understood the real meaning of it. It was as if
Itachi was thinking about that all the time, too. Or maybe Naruto�s tone said
it all.

It felt as if he�d stepped into a mine
field, territory where he shouldn�t have moved into; he could not read Itachi�s
stare, and that scared him. Itachi was dangerous, and not only because he was a
strong shinobi.

In a blink of an eye, Naruto found himself
pinned against the nearest wall, one of Itachi�s hands curled around his
throat, crimson, bloody eyes fixed onto his own, completely helpless.

He knew the raven haired shinobi could
kill him with just a mere twitch of his fingers, and the shiver that went
through his frame was not of excitement, but of mild fear.

But something inside him told him he would
not die here. He felt daring, part of his boldness was coming back (boldness
that Jiraiya familiarly called �desire to get killed in a very painful way�).
And Itachi was merely staring. Not speaking, not moving. Just
staring.

His hands moved upwards, eyes still
staring into Itachi�s, and curling around Itachi�s sash he let the dark hair
loose, watching with inner satisfaction how it fell and curled around Itachi�s
face.

�What�s under the mask?� he asked then, in
a low and calm voice (not louder than a breath) �even though he didn�t feel
calm inside.

Itachi let go of his neck, and narrowed
his eyes with a look that caused Naruto to gasp and look away in shock, even
though he could not understand what it meant.

Then Itachi turned away and walked out of
the room, leaving a distressed Naruto staring at his retreating back.

�What was that
about?�

��

Tsunade�s eyes were grave and serious as
she stared at the message Shizune had given her; though part of her was still
mourning for Naruto�s loss, almost three months had passed, and she was slowly
returning to her work.

Her stance was just as proud as always,
her eyes as fierce as before, her determination keeping her on that seat, in
that office, instead of running away for the second time.

If not for the bet she�d made with Naruto
once, about her becoming the Hokage, the blonde would have retreated and let
someone else rule over Konoha, as she could not seem to make herself care; but
she would keep her promise, and protect the village Naruto loved with all her
heart.

�So they are finally moving,� she
whispered, eyes betraying bitterness before turning stony once again. �Shizune,
call in Team Gai and Kakashi, they will have to do for this mission.�

Shizune frowned but nodded, and ran out of
the office, ready to find all the requested people; she could understand why
Tsunade would get Team Gai, since they knew the territory around Suna, but for
Kakashi, that was a first.

Though, she had to admit that his acting
in the last few months had been less than normal, he�d even asked to join the
ANBU again, and this was a thing that bothered Iruka a lot (especially because
Kakashi was growing colder with his lover as well). Shizune sighed, knowing
that Kakashi needed to let go.

Things would be hard to patch up, but they
had to try and move on. Who would have guessed that Naruto would stick so much
in everyone�s minds?

Maybe they just needed some more time�
just a little bit more.

��

The gates of Konoha opened once more.

The wind greeted the five figures as they
passed through the protective wall that surrounded Konohagakure; against the
mild brown of the wood, the red �A� and �N� painted on the gates looked like
blood, a warning for those who entered the village.

Where everything has a start and a
conclusion, an open and a close, and the hope that, with the mission, there
could be acceptance of what can�t be changed.

Kakashi stood next to Gai, his only
visible eye slightly dulled over as he stared far into the distance, preparing
himself with a deep sigh for the mission he had to accomplish; at his sides
Neji, Lee, and TenTen stood in determination, watching their sensei stretch in
front of them.

Gai knew this was his only chance to help
Kakashi out of his self�imposed misery.

�Come on, my rival! We have to go help our
allies of Sunagakure!� he commented.

Kakashi didn�t even look at him as he
sprinted forwards.

Gai followed, and soon enough the other
three as well.

��

Cepheus: I�ve been adding and changing some parts of the
previous chapters. Not much, but it�s still some.

Next chapter, finally, some real action. Please believe me!

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Winter Release