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Chapter Text

Chapter One

Ling Yao laid on the desecrated battlefield with a bitter smile playing on his lips as he bled out from multiple wounds. The sounds of explosions and loud ruptures echoed around him as the alchemists fought through the large screen of smoke and rubble.

Ling lifted his dark gaze to the bright blue skies and he pressed a callused hand to his faintly beating heart. His heartbeat gradually grew slower and slower. The shaky tremors of his limbs lessened gradually as his consciousness began to slip away. The smell of ash and littered corpses permeated through the vicinity. The taste of regret and failure weighed heavily on his tongue.

He heard a familiar terrified voice reach him through the fray of explosions and bodies falling to the ground. Ling looked through the smoke with blearily eyes and honed in weakly on the familiar Qi signature. He reached out a shaky hand forward and he wheezed painfully as a bloody cough broke through his parched lips.

"Waka!" Lan Fan cried out with moist eyes as she fell to the ground next to him.

She eyed his numerous injuries and her face grew ashen at the sight. He was dying. Ling smiled up at her faintly and grasped her hand weakly in his own. He gave her palm a faint squeeze and conveyed his regret and sorrow with his dark eyes.

"I'll be heading out first Lan Fan," he whispered with a sardonic smile. I don't want to die.

He coughed another violent cough and his chest rattled painfully with each breath. It was incredibly excruciating. Lan Fan's tears streamed down her pale face and she shook her head desperately in denial.

"No," she whispered in between sobs. "No! I was supposed to protect you!"

Ling shook his head sadly and squeezed her hand. "It's not your fault." He croaked wetly. "I'm sorry...to leave you alone like this." His eyes grew moist and the tears slipped down his pale cheeks. "I'm sorry I can't keep my promise..." He wheezed another painful breath. "...to become Emper-"

Ling's hand dropped from his friend's hold with a sense of finality. His time was up. His vision drifted away and he heard his best friend and guard release heartbroken sobs. She lifted his dormant body in her hold and held him tightly to her chest as she begged him to stay with her.

Ling's eyes slid shut and the weak apologies remained on his lips. Forgive me. The sounds grew more distant and he felt himself slip away. He embraced the encompassing darkness with a sense of bitterness and heightened grief.

The newborn was welcomed into the world on a cold, winter night. The snow fell ceremoniously throughout the village and the streets were vacated as the icy winds blew through the traditional structures. The dwellers and occupants of the Hyuuga Compound held their breath that night as the agonized screams of the clan head's wife permeated through the walls as she endured the labours of childbirth.

The Hyuuga newborn entered the world with loud distressed cries. The cries continued for a long long time as the newborn refused to settle in his mother's arms. He wiggled and whined and omitted heartbroken cries. The midwives ran around frantically and the mother gazed at her firstborn child with pure adoration in her eyes.

Her baby boy was healthy and whole. It had been a difficult birth and she had worried for her child greatly. Staring down at the little noisy bundle in her arms, she felt her heart soar in motherly affection as she gazed down at the weeping infant. 

She smiled a fond, tired smile and handed the swaddled infant to her husband and head of the Hyuuga Clan. Hyuuga Hiashi held the crying infant for a contemplative moment before he stared down at him with a stern gaze. His entire body leaked severity. The infant quieted down in his hold and the midwives settled as the comfortable silence encompassed the room. 

"What should we name him dear?" The mother asked in a tired tone, gazing at her husband and child with warm affectionate eyes.

Hiashi gazed at the infant for a long time. "Ichiro. He is my heir and he will become the best."

"Hyuuga Ichiro."

Chapter Text

Chapter Two

Ling Yao floated in a dark expansive space for a long, long time. The silence permeated through the open plane and he remained suspended in the air, gazing around him in bewilderment. The absence of sound was disconcerting and his breathing grew more rattled as he looked into the darkness. Light trickled through slowly as flickers of his past played before him in fast images. The memories floated by him rapidly and he watched the fragmented figments move by. He watched as a small privileged prince with dark silk robes and mischievous eyes twirled kunai blades between his fingertips curiously as his caretakers hovered around him anxiously.

He watched the memory of a small child who woke up in the middle of the night with the sensation of another presence in his bedroom. Ling watched with sad eyes as the small child grabbed the hidden blade underneath his pillow and threw it across the room at the hidden assassin with terrifying precision. The body fell and the blood splattered across the white silk curtains. The child began screaming and crying in fright as he witnessed his first death. The prince - the liege of the Yao Clan - and the man who was twelfth in line for the royal throne of succession watched the memories float by him with a disheartened gaze.

He reached out a pale hand to grasp the memories as the last images of the Promised Day filtered through and his heart clenched painfully at the sight of Lan Fan. He touched the fleeting images and they shattered into multiple fragments.

"No." He whispered with a broken heart. "No!"

Ling's eyes shot open and he stared up at a white ceiling in utter bewilderment. His brows furrowed in confusion and he opened his mouth to call out to his guards. His eyes widened in confusion as he omitted an infantile gurgle. The Xingese prince gurgled again and he pressed a hand to his mouth in mortification. He blinked rapidly and he felt discombobulated at the slow movement of his limbs. Ling blinked at the sight of tiny, chubby hands and his breath hitched in bewilderment. What in the world? He raised his hands up slowly and he blinked at the tiny arms. He traced the tiny hands with wide eyes and curled his fingers instinctively. His heart thudded rapidly in his chest as the immediate truth dawned on him.

Rebirth.

It was a rare phenomenon discussed in hushed whispers throughout the Xing Empire. He believed it to be a fictive and mythical tale spun by bored housewives and court ladies eager to escape the banality of their daily life. Ling wiggled in his small cot and released a troubled gurgle. 

Oh no.

No no no no no.

He was an infant. Ling's breath quickened in alarm at the realization and he lowered his small hands to his chest, resting them on his small beating heart. He was alive. Ling released an infantile whine of distress and his eyes grew moist at the thought. Lan Fan. He had left everyone behind. He had died. Did they win? Did they die?

Ling omitted a few terrified cries and the door to his large bedroom slid open. A tall woman with pale lavender eyes and dark hair stepped forward. She was dressed in a long flowery robe and her disposition was gentle. Her hair was long and it was adorned with jade ornaments. She rushed towards him with quick steps and lifted his small body in her arms with practiced ease. She smiled at him sweetly and soothed his back with soft caresses. Her Qi was soothing - like spring flowers and morning dew - and her touch was gentle and affectionate. 

Who are you?

Her words were unfamiliar as she whispered to him softly. She spoke a different tongue. Ling felt himself grow calm in her hold. Her presence was soothing and warm. Mother, his mind supplied immediately. He gurgled unintelligent words and grabbed a lock of her long dark hair and mused at the softness of it. She laughed at his attempt at communication and hummed a soft tune under her breath. Her Qi brightened and her voice was like a trickling stream, it was soft and melodious. Ling clenched his tiny fists around her dark locks and pursued his lips tightly.

Mother, mother, mother.

He had a mother - a kind and loving mother- In his past life, his mother had died when he was very young. She was one of the numerous concubines in the emperor's court and she was not greatly favoured. She died isolated in her section of the palace, away from her son and loved ones. She had been a lonely and sad woman who withered away day by day in her grief. Ling's eyes prickled at the painful memories and he clung to his new mother desperately.

Mother, mother, mother.

Ling scowled as his little body shook in exertion. His motor skills were microscopic. He huffed a breath and his mother patted him on his back soothingly. She moved across the room and stopped in front of a large mirror. Ling wiggled in her hold and she lifted him up higher in her arms. He turned his head slowly and gazed at his reflection with a feeling of trepidation. Ling released a startled gurgle at the sight. What in the world?

He stared with wide eyes, omitting confused whines as he reached a tiny hand out to his reflection. He pressed a hand to the cool glass and made a few discontent noises. His eyes were incredibly pale. What in the hell? He had no irises! His eyes were a pale lavender and so different than his charcoal black of before. He looked physically blind but he could see clearly. He had a tuff of dark hair and his skin was incredibly pale. What a creepy looking baby, he thought with a sardonic gurgle. Ling closed his eyes tiredly.

Who am I?

He cursed in his head in irritation as he fought back a yawn. His infantile body grew tired very easily. His mother set him down gently in his cradle and he began feigning sleep immediately as his head rested on the soft pillows. She remained watching him sleep for a while before she left, closing the door behind her softly.

Ling's eyes shot open and he wiggled in his cot. He clenched and unclenched his fists repetitively and huffed in exertion. He needed to build up his motor skills. He had no desire to be confined to a cot on a longterm basis. The infant exercised in his wooden cot, moving his limbs in perpetual motions and feigned sleep whenever his door slid open.

The three year old sat on the rooftop of his large home and gazed up at the setting sky with a wistful, mournful gaze. The air was cool and crisp and it ruffled his long dark locks gently. Pale lavender eyes looked down at an expansive compound with a troubled gaze. The small child clad in white robes turned an intelligent gaze on his people - tracking their movements - with keen eyes. He eyed the subordinates of his clan and frowned at their blank expressions as they trailed behind their masters and mistresses. His clansman and women were very dour and serious people. The child pursed his lips tightly and stared up at the orange hues in the distant horizon and heaved a long sigh.

Ling Yao's rebirth was a cause for great concern for the young lord. The world he inhabited was strange and unfamiliar. It took him a short time to attain fluency in reading and writing and he left his tutors scrambling for newer content as they gawked at him in bewilderment and pride. He learned a lot from feigning childish ignorance. He was the heir to a prestigious clan that was renowned and affluent. Like his previous life, he was a liege once again; a person born to lead. Fortunately there was no war over succession; he was the sole heir. The position was indisputably his to occupy.

The Hyuuga clan was divided into two branches. It was a stratified clan. His people were segregated among themselves based on birth order. The second branch acted as subservient vassals to the first branch. His father - Hyuuga Hiashi - was a cold and stern man. He had high expectations and accepted only the best. His mother - Hyuuga Yukina - was gentle and kind but she was a frail woman with a sickly disposition. 

His new name was Hyuuga Ichiro. His name lacked originality and it translated into the first. Firstborn, first child, first one. Simply the first which meant he had to be the best- the first to succeed, the first to finish, the first to win. His father wanted a winner, an heir who claimed first place in everything. His father often complained of another young heir- an Uchiha heir- who currently held the title of first in everything he endeavoured. The Uchiha heir was older than Ling and he was currently enrolled in the shinobi academy. Ling believed his father was too unreasonable to demand so much of him at such a young and delicate age. He was only three years old and his father droned on and on about clan expectations and duties as heir. Ling would have suffered and crumbled from the intense pressure and mountainous expectations had he not been an adult inhabiting a child's body.

The village Ling inhabited was a hidden village - Konohakagure - It was a militaristic village that thrived on servitude and unquestionable loyalty. The village operated on a black and white dichotomy, that Konoha was the good in the Elemental Nations and everyone else was the bad. Ling found the singular unquestionable narrative greatly concerning. The village appeared perfect on the outside - too perfect - with its traditional rustic structures and warm people. It reminded him of Amestris.

Amestris had appeared perfect on the outside but there was a rotten hidden infestation within the shadows. It was built on the blood and sacrifices of others. Xing- on the other hand- was imperfect on the outside and inside. The imperial successors were in a vicious battle for the throne and siblings hatched conniving plans to assassinate their own brothers and sisters. Xing did not parade its kingdom as perfect. It was greatly dystopian and multifaceted. There were outskirts within the Xing Empire that were destitute, heavily impoverished and operated by the dregs of society. Ling loved Xing - it appeared as it was - It was honest and true, despite its brokenness and perpetual danger, it felt like home. The dangers of his upbringing and multiple assassination attempts as the twelfth prince had enabled him to grow up strong and cunning.

Ling sighed heavily and gazed down at the training grounds on the compound. It was strenuous acting like a child. He endeavoured to not hold himself back much and to his father's great pleasure, he had upheld all his superfluous expectations. Ling discovered chakra - the life energy of his new world - at the age of two. It felt like a slow trickling stream that ran through all his veins and was centred in his core. His chakra could be manipulated, guided and it responded to him easily. It was an extension of himself. He could feel the chakra around him as well. He could read other people's Qi and sense their emotions as his dragon pulse ability followed him into his second life. He could sense the flow of all life energy within the earth from the top of the massive monuments down to the small critters on the land. He felt every life coursing through the village, small and large.

Ling could read the life energies and he knew that it was a rare phenomenon. Sensing people through their Qi made him attuned to his environment and those around him. He kept his abilities hidden and the emotions of others came to him as a faint sensation. His mother was a soft, low melody of affection and warmth but there was a greyness to her Qi and it was spreading farther and farther through her body with each passing year. She was growing fainter and weaker. He knew what her diminishing Qi meant. She would not live long. She would live a few more winters at most.

His father's life energy was cold and clinical. It reminded him of the healers in Xing who would fret over him as child. There was a low prickle of green hues in his father's energy- a slow fluttering sense of pride he liked to conceal from everyone around him. He didn't enjoy being around his father, his Qi was oppressive and crisp. It reminded him much of his old father's Qi. The Emperor of Xing was a cold and ruthless man. His life energy was unpleasant but it was bearable. There was no worse Qi than that of the Homunculus - thousands and thousands of anguished souls trapped in the vessel of one body. Their Qi was unbearable and filled with dissonance.

Ling looked up at the setting skies and a slow smile spread on his lips as he felt an approaching presence draw closer to him. The Qi was warm and gentle with a tad bit of exasperation. He turned and let a slow smile spread on his cherubic face at the sight of his uncle. Hyuuga Hizashi was the twin brother of the clan head but he was an entirely different man. He was a lot like his mother, he was warm and patient. The man landed on the rooftop silently and regarded him with a stern gaze. Ling stood up and shoved his small hands in his pockets.

"Hi uncle," he spoke with a fond smile.

Hizashi sighed and ran a hand over his face. "What did we say about rooftops, waka-sama?"

Ling tilted his head to the side and feigned a confused expression. "Hmm...I can't seem to recall," he said airily.

Hizashi's Qi prickled with amusement and his uncle stepped forward and crouched in front of him. He rested a hand on his small head and ruffled his dark hair. Ling beamed at his uncle with an honest smile. He really liked the man- he felt a lot like genuine family- and he preferred him over his stifling father.

"I finished my training today," Ling spoke. "I hit all the targets too."

Hizashi frowned and he tugged his small hands forward. He inspected his palms with a frown as he saw the tiny scars and calluses from the knife handling sessions. His Qi prickled in concern. Ling curled his fingers forward, holding onto his uncle's large fingers with a reassuring smile.

"It's fine uncle, I'm the heir. There's no other choice but for me to become the best," he spoke with a small smile.

Hizashi sighed heavily and picked him up in his arms. "Let's get you back inside Ichiro-sama. Your mother will have my head if she finds out you snuck out to the rooftops again."

Dinner was a quiet and sombre affair. His mother was absent from dinner. She was growing more ill with the change of the season. Winter was drawing closer and the cold air made her coughs harsher. Ling sat at the large table with his father and the servants shuffled around them silently, changing their dinner course as the two ate quietly. Ling looked up at the leader of the Hyuuga Clan and lowered his chopsticks down carefully.

"Father, I have a request." Ling began in a serious tone.

Hyuuga Hiashi gazed at him with an unreadable gaze but there was a flicker of curiosity in his Qi. Ling waited a moment before he continued in a low voice.

"I'd like to have swords personally commissioned for me."

Hiashi frowned. "Swords?"

Ling inclined his head in acknowledgement. He knew his request was odd. Hyuugas did not fight with swords. Their strongest weapons was their gentle-fist technique but he wanted to train with his dao swords. He would not limit himself to one fighting style. He was a versatile fighter. 

"I believe it is wise for me to have an arsenal of skills father," Ling intoned quietly. "I will not neglect my other duties and I will use the swords as extra training on my own time."

Hiashi stared at him for a long moment. "Perhaps we can find you a kenjutsu instructor."

Ling shook his head. A kenjutsu instructor would be useful but he wanted to emulate his distinctive style from the past. He was a swords master back in Xing; he was renowned for his skills with the dao blades. A kenjutsu master would teach him with the standard katanas and he did not want to use such blades.

"I have different blades in mind father, not your standard katana blades. I have drawn up rudimentary sketches and I believe they will benefit me greatly." Ling paused and wracked his brain for a final push. "I am confident that they will allow me to advance..." Hook. "...especially against the Uchiha Heir..." Line. "I will grow stronger, should you allow it Father." Sinker.

Hyuuga Hiashi gave a nod. "Go with your uncle tomorrow after your lessons."

Ling bit back a grin and settled for a small satisfied smirk.

The four year old tied his long dark locks in low ponytail and strapped his dao sword to his back. His bangs fell over the right side of his face in lazy waves that infuriated his father to no end. The Hyuuga Heir put on his sandals quietly and slipped out of his bedroom window silently. He ducked behind the tall trees and bushes as he snuck out of the Hyuuga Compound.

His mother and uncle did not want him heading out to the village alone but Ling was more than capable of taking care of himself. He had spent an entire year honing his swordsmanship and sneaking past the guards to walk through the village alone. As heir to the clan, he still had to be presented to the clan council and the village as a whole. His presentation was next year - five years old was the age in which Clan Heirs were presented publicly after they were deemed healthy.

Ling smirked to himself- his pale eyes lit up- as he snuck out of the compound successfully. Security was very poor in the compound. For a renowned clan, they were lacking in that department. The darkly clad four year old wandered the streets of the village curiously. Konoha was an architectural beauty. He peered at the three large monuments up ahead and he whistled a low tune under his breath. Ling entered a weapons shop with his hands in his pockets. The clerk smiled at him indulgently and he inclined his head respectfully. He weaved through the shinobi surveying the merchandise.

Ling eyed the items on the shelves and his eyes lit up as he read the labels. He grabbed a basket and began loading a number of items into his basket. He moved quickly, his brain working out an old and important recipe from his past life. He headed to the clerk and rummaged through his pockets, pulling out a wad of ryo.

"What a strange array of products," a voice spoke behind him.

Ling turned around and gazed at the older shinobi who had a thin senbon in between his lips. He appeared amused as he stared down at him. He was holding a basket filled with solider pills, blades and polish oil. Ling scrunched his nose and stuffed his hands in his pockets.

"The toy store is down the street kid," the shinobi intoned lowly.

Ling smirked at the light provocation and the shinobi's eyes twinkled in mirth. If he was truly a small child, he would have taken offence at the condescending words. "I'm old enough to know all these items," Ling spoke airily as he crossed his arms over his chest and gave the man a small smirk. He turned back to the clerk with a smile and collected his purchased items. The shinobi watched him curiously as he walked past the man without a backward glance.

Ling made his way through the streets and looked around searchingly. He couldn't concoct his experimentations within the compound with his fretting uncle and concerned mother. He gazed around him and his pale eyes lit up. He rushed through the crowds and reached the training fields. Ling peered around curiously and ducked behind the large thick trees. He moved through the thick foliage and sat down on the ground. He took off his backpack and rummaged through his belongings. He pulled out a single kunai, a box of matches, glue and circular plastic spheres.

The four year old grinned a cheshire grin and began chopping his matches into small bits with his blade. He cut through the spheres with careful precision and moulded the different parts together. He added a clasp to each projectile and crushed the matches with a large stone. He tore off the sandpaper from the box and cut it into small fragments.

He grabbed the crushed powder and filled the spheres. Ling carefully added the sandpaper fragments and glued the bottom spheres together tightly and clasped on the clips. Ling stood up with a proud grin.

"Yosha! Let it smoke!" He cheered as he tore off the clip and threw the projectile into the large clearing.

The four year old leapt to the trees and gazed down at the clearing as the smoke bomb covered the vicinity. Ling pulled out his journal from his storage scroll and began documenting the perimeter of the smoke screen. He leapt down to the ground and removed his sword from his back and drew a circle in the ground around the smoke. He frowned and added more notes in his journal as he watched the smoke slowly clear up.

Add more sandpaper. Increase the perimeter of the smoke release.

Ling lowered his journal and chucked the second smoke bomb in the clearing. He whipped another smoke bomb in fast successions and he watched the large screen smoke up and up. His eyes widened in surprise as the smoke grew and grew. It reached past the thick trees and further into the training grounds.

"Oh crap!" He cursed. "Oh come on! Stop growing you little shit! No no no!" He hissed quietly as the smoke spread farther and farther. Ling quickly strapped his sword onto his back and grabbed his belongings, rushing away from the scene of the crime rapidly. He ran in the opposite direction as he heard startled cries coming from the training grounds.

They're probably expecting a fire, he thought with an amused curl to his lips as he ran away.

The Hyuuga Heir ran away hurriedly and delved further and further into the woods. He whooped and laughed as the screams and confused sounds echoed distantly behind him. It was nice to let loose and create a bit of harmless chaos. The Hyuuga compound was so stifling and he missed his old home and companions dearly. Back then, it was always loud and everyday was filled with chaos, food parties and fists and blades were always thrown in a show of camaraderie.

Being a Hyuuga was stifling.

Being the Hyuuga Heir was a heavy burden.

Ling reached a rapid stream and he took a seat by the water bank. He leaned on a large boulder and closed his eyes with a satisfied hum. The rays of the afternoon sun warmed him and he smiled to himself as he began drifting away for a long overdue nap.

Chapter Text

Chapter Three

The afternoon rays of the sun filtered through the thick foliage in the woods. At the edge of the populated village, a small child stood alone in the thick greenery. The four year old narrowed his eyes calculatingly as he released the sphere projectiles from his hands. He watched with keen eyes as the empty clearing smoked up rapidly. He leaped to the trees soundlessly and eyed the perimeter improvement with an impish grin. Ling whooped to himself happily as he hung upside down from the thick branch. His small sandalled feet were infused with chakra and he swung his body back and forth excitedly as he watched the smoke clear up. 

Increased perimeter, check.

Increased length, check. 

Increased invisibility, check. 

Ling grinned at the clearing smoke and held up another projectile in his small hands. He removed the clasp and took aim with calculating precision. The Hyuuga heir froze as he felt three presences draw closer to him. His eyes grew wide in apprehension. Oh shit, he thought in panic as he eyed his smoke bomb. He had five seconds to throw it before it denoted in his face. 

Ling counted the seconds down and looked towards the clearing where the three chakra signatures were closing in rapidly. Ling pursed his lips tightly and he threw the smoke bomb towards the incoming nin. He took off in a different direction. Ling took a deep breath and concealed his presence carefully as he moved quickly through the thick trees. 

He heard the indignant squawks echo behind him as the smoke engulfed the vicinity. Ling smirked to himself and moved away quickly. His senses prickled in warning and he ducked immediately as a blade sailed through the bushes and nearly pierced his head. Ling fell to the ground with a loud omph. The mud around him splattered and filled his nostrils. He coughed and wheezed at the harsh fall. Ling grimaced at the gross and slimy sensation of mother nature entering his facial orifices. 

Three figures broke through the clearing and Ling remained flat faced on the ground, sensing their Qi silently. Two life energies were unfamiliar. He had never encountered the two of them before. Another was vaguely familiar. It must have been a short encounter, brief and unmemorable. Ling needed to mentally gauge a Qi signature thoroughly to memorize it entirely. The Hyuuga Heir frowned as alarm trickled through the three energies and it quickly morphed into concern. 

“Oh fuck.” A man commented eloquently. 

“A kid?” A voice drawled. He sounded bored out of his mind. 

“Is he dead?” A raspy voice rattled in alarm.

Ling lifted his mud-caked face from the ground and sat up warily. He coughed and spat out the dirt and rubbed at his soiled face with a distressed groan. He looked up at his three assailants and he scowled in irritation. 

"What the hell?! Why are you trying to kill me?!”

"Oh shit, you're a Hyuga." 

Ling sneered and he took in the sight of the three men with narrowed eyes. His gaze widened as he saw the bored looking nin with a senbon blade in his mouth. He was pale and had brown locks to his chin. He was peering at him with assessing brown eyes. Ling felt his heart thud rapidly in his chest. Oh no. The weapons store. Shit, shit, shit! It was the shinobi from two weeks ago. 

Ling glared at the senbon-wielding nin as the panic ran through his small frame. What a strange array of products. The shinobi's Qi was prickling in suspicion as he regarded him silently. The toy store is down the street kid. Ling’s mind raced with the implications. He was utterly fucked. 

There was no way he could escape three seasoned Jounin. 

Ling gazed at the other two nin. One was remarkably pale and he had dark locks cropped to his chin. He kept coughing into his sleeves and he stared at him with unmasked concern. His Qi was uncertain and warm. He seemed the nicest out of the murderous trio. The other man was tall. His face was scarred and his brown hair was cut in short spikes. He was the eloquent speaker who swore freely around children.

Ling’s mind raced. He needed a plan. He stepped back shakily. His face morphed into an expression of blatant fear. His tiny body began trembling and his bottom lip wobbled. 

It’s time for a show, you little shits. 

“Uh…Genma…” Scarred face spoke hesitantly. “Is he going to cry?”

The leader - ah the bastard was called Genma - narrowed his eyes and he pursed his lips in an expression of distaste. Ling swallowed a grin. He could sense all their discomfort. They were not well-versed in handling distraught children. Ling cheered inwardly and blinked his eyes rapidly as they began watering in false tears. 

“I don’t w-want t-to d-die!” Ling wailed as he began sobbing profusely. 

The three men stiffened. 

“I…I ….” He threw his head back. “Waaahhhh!”

The four year old gazed at them through his tears and he watched them all pale and grimace in satisfaction. Genma stepped forward with raised hands. 

“No one is killing you kid, just…stop crying.” He knelt down in front of him and frowned. 

“What are you doing here anyways?” He handed him a handkerchief and Ling grabbed it, blowing his nose loudly into the cloth. 

He handed the wet and soiled cloth back to the nin vindictively. Ling watched in concealed amusement as the shinobi tried to mask his horror and disgust as he touched the snotty handkerchief with his fingertips. 

The coughing nin stepped forward with a concerned frown. "You shouldn't be wandering away from your parents. Did you get lost?" 

Ling nodded his head slowly. "I was with my mom..." A lie. "You see...we were shopping...you see my uncle is having a child soon so we wanted to get him a nice gift..." A half-truth. "...And I saw a big colourful butterfly and I followed it and a-and-" Utter bullshit. 

Ling scrunched his cherubic face in distress. "-and I couldn't find my m-mom and then there were all these big big, tall trees!" Ling waved his little arms upwards to show how tall the trees were. 

"You see, then there was so much smoke all of a sudden and I think I heard something… like…l-like maybe another person?” He shrugged. “I don’t know…then…then a k-knife was coming at my face all whooosh…” He trembled in fear. “…and I tripped and f-fell into the m-muddy puddle all whaam a-and-" The hot tears slid down his pale face and he hiccuped dishonestly. 

"I don't want to die!" He cried out. 

The nin grew paler and paler as they listened to Ling's overly embellished narrative. Their leader -Genma- reached forward and picked him up gently in his arms. His Qi prickled in remorse and guilt. He turned to his companions and communicated silently.

"Kid, what's your name?" The nin asked softly as he began walking out of the woods. 

The two trailed after him. 

"I-Ichiro," Ling grumbled in between hiccups. 

"Ichiro, are your parents at the Hyuuga Compound? What are their jobs and names? They must be so worried about you." 

Scarred face stepped forward and patted him on the head. “Yeah kid, tell us who they are and we’ll get you home safe and sound.”

Ling scrunched his nose. "Mmm... Mom doesn't work. Dad is important I think?" He hesitated and pursed his lips in thought. "Dad is like...mmm what did he call it? The head!' Ling rubbed his moist eyes and looked up at the brown haired man with wide innocent eyes. 

Genma froze in his tracks and he gazed at him with wide eyes. His mouth dropped open in shock and he gaped. Ling heard the gasps from the two nin behind him and he bit back a vindictive smirk as the silence descended on the clearing. The silence lasted a whole five seconds before the heated whispers started.  

Are you fucking kidding me?! 

We're fucked! We're so fucked! You have killed us all Shiranui Genma! 

Oi, I didn’t even throw the knife! That was all Hayate! 

Who the fuck throws first anyways Hayate?! 

Shut up Raidou! I panicked! 

"Dad is the head of the Hyuuga clan!" Ling confirmed with an innocent gaze and he laughed internally as the trio began panicking earnestly. Their Qi shot up in genuine terror and pure panic. 

Serves you right, bastards. 

Shiranui Genma was having a bad day. He had woke up with a stiff arm and his neighbour’s cat would not stop meowing all night long. Sleep deprived and groggy, he met up with his closest friends to carry out an investigation mission. There were smoke bombs going off throughout the village at random intervals. The culprit had no patterns. He was smart, tactical and his objective was to create instability and fear among the villagers of Konoha.

It had been their luck -or rather misfortune- that they witnessed a cloud of smoke go up near the edge of the village. The three took off hurriedly, eager to end their mission and apprehend the fear-monger once and for all. Much to his dissatisfaction, the perpetrator had left and in the chaos, they had traumatized and nearly killed an innocent child.

Fuck my life. I should have stayed in bed.

The Hyuuga Heir. 

Genma stared at the small toddler in his arms. He hadn’t known the Hyuuga Clan had an heir. He was an adorable tiny little child with round cheeks and big wide eyes. His hair was long and tied in a low ponytail. He had long bangs that fell over the side of his face and he was sniffling quietly as he wiggled in his hold. 

Maybe he is still too young to be presented publicly. Genma felt his stomach drop at the thought. They had traumatized a toddler - a tiny little creature with round cheeks and an innocent outlook on the world. Genma ran a hand through his hair and held back the urge to scream. 

To borrow his best friend’s eloquent choice of words - they were fucked. Hyuuga Hiashi was a stern and powerful man. He ran his clan with an iron fist. He was shrewd and incredibly intelligent. He was difficult, very very difficult. Genma felt his world crumble. His career was over. 

Scratch that, his life was over. 

It was all over.

Unless…

Genma stared down at the toddler in his arms. He was not above manipulating a kid to ensure his survival. Hell, he was a shinobi and not a fairy. Manipulation was part of his job description. Genma smiled a false gentle smile as his heart thudded rapidly in his chest. He hoped this worked. 

“Hey kid, how about we put this all behind us. You don’t tell anyone what happened today and we won’t tell anyone that you were off by yourself, far away from home? Hmm?”

The child frowned up at him and he tilted his head to the side in consideration. “But my mom says-”

“How about this kid?” Raidou spoke as he latched on to Genma’s plan.

He too was not above manipulating children. They were grade A shinobi. Only Hayate looked mildly uncomfortable at their plan of action. It was a matter of life and death; they had no time for right and wrong. They had to convince the brat to keep their encounter a secret. 

“Let’s cut a deal, you help us out this one time and we’ll help you out another time. Think of it this way, you’ll have three strong Jounin owe you a favour for your silence. It’s a sweet deal, yeah?” Raidou suggested with a diplomatic smile.

The kid appeared thoughtful -Ichiro- He needed to remember his name. It wasn’t everyday that he almost killed a clan heir. It may have been Hayate’s knife but he was the leader to their group mission. The responsibility would fall to him. Genma scowled at the thought and glared at his friend heatedly. Hayate turned his gaze away sheepishly and coughed in his sleeve. 

“You promise?” Ichiro spoke with wide eyes. He scrunched his nose cutely. “You won’t break your word? Father says those who break their words are maggots and should be purged from this world.”

Raidou paled significantly at the off-handed words. Hayate wheezed a loud cough. Genma blinked slowly. Right. Hyuuga Hiashi was terrifying. His Heir solidified that sentiment completely. The child curled his small muddied hands in Genma’s vest and he gazed up at him with pale, assessing eyes. 

They were uncannily intelligent. 

The Jounin felt hesitation seize his heart. He prayed he wasn’t making the biggest mistake of his life. Ichiro was a child. He looked hardly a day over four. Children were fickle-minded and forgetful. He was bound to forget their deal and grow distracted with… childish affairs. 

Raidou grinned and stuck his hand out to the kid. “Yeah, I give you my word.” He stared meaningfully at his friends.

Hayate frowned and nodded hesitantly. 

Genma pursed his lips tightly and gave a curt nod.

The child’s eyes brightened significantly and he smirked slowly. “Great, no take backs gentlemen.”

Genma felt his stomach drop as he looked at the devilish smirking child with a sinking heart. 

He fucked up. 

The small four year old trotted hurriedly through the expansive compound. He passed by the dour men and women of his clan with a smile and made his way eagerly towards the second branch homes. Ling knocked on the tall doors and bounced on his toes excitedly. His uncle -Hizashi- opened the door with a tired smile. His pale eyes lit up affectionately and his Qi prickled in familial warmth. Ling grinned up at his uncle brightly, his small form vibrating in blatant excitement. 

“Uncle, uncle, uncle,” he bounced happily. “Can I come in? Can I see the baby?” 

His uncle laughed and stepped aside, ushering his small nephew inside. Ling moved hurriedly, running on the wooden floors, ignoring his uncle’s reprimanding voice to slow down. He opened the door to the nursery room quietly and peeked his head in. He took careful quiet steps towards the wooden cot and peered down at the warm bundle with wide eyes. He cooed quietly at the adorable sight of his little baby cousin, Hyuuga Neji. 

The tiny infant was bundled up in soft cotton fabrics and his small hands twitched in his sleep. Ling reached a small hand forward, poking at the small baby hands gently. The newborn’s little fingers curled around his hands and he bit back a squeal of adoration. He was utterly smitten. He loved his baby cousin. 

Ling heard an amused sound at the door and turned to see his uncle leaning against the doorframe, gazing at them both with a soft smile. Ling turned back to the bundle and carefully hoisted the sleeping toddler in his arms. He listened to his Qi and memorized his life energy with a soft smile. Neji was a small flutter of warmth and life. His Qi would develop and grow into a distinctive signature that spoke of his experiences and character. Ling listened to the warmth flutters and he tightened his hold gently on the sleeping babe. A protective urge filled him to the core. His uncle was his most favourite adult and his cousin was officially his most favourite child.

He knew he would grow to love the child very much. He would become very dear to his heart.

“Oh uncle he’s precious and I adore him. I will protect him and cherish him like a brother.” Ling whispered softly as he peered at the chubby cheeks with an affectionate grin. 

His uncle’s Qi prickled with a layer of resigned sadness. Ling gazed at his uncle in confusion and concern. Was it something he said? His uncle noticed his stare and he smiled at him gently, masking his hidden grief. Ling remained quiet as he gazed at his uncle curiously. Hizashi stepped forward and patted his head gently, pushing his long bangs out of his eyes. Why is he sad? 

The Hyuuga Heir pursed his lips tightly in concern and suppressed his desire to question his uncle. No one knew he could sense and read emotions and Hizashi was masking his grief with a cheery disposition. 

Hizahi’s Qi was heavy in resignation as he peered at the slumbering infant. Ling felt an uncertainty settle in his stomach as he turned his gaze back to the sleeping child in his arms. 

What is going on?  

Chapter Text

Chapter Four

The faint sounds of metal cutlery clinking over plates permeated through the large home as the small family ate through their dinner quietly. Hyuuga Hiashi gazed at his son thoughtfully. The small five year old was sitting with a straight posture, cutting through his tender meat with impeccable table manners. His son, Ichiro, was remarkable in every aspect. He had his presentation with the Hyuuga Clan elders and they were enamoured by his superior intelligence and shrewdness. 

Hiashi felt the parental pride coarse through his veins. Ichiro carried himself as a leader. He spoke eloquently and acted maturely. He was fit to lead and rule. He was a winner. 

Hiashi would accept no less from his first offspring, from any of his offsprings. The clan head lowered his chopsticks and gazed at his son with a neutral expression.

“You will start the academy in three days time.” He spoke in a monotonous tone.

Hiashi watched as the small boy stopped chewing and gazed at him in mild confusion. He swallowed his food and spoke in a respectful tone. 

“Father, don’t students start at the academy at a later age?” He inquired in a low tone. 

Hiashi gave a curt nod. “Yes, I have filed in a request for early admission and it was accepted. You will be tested individually and placed in a class that is suitable for your abilities. There is no time to waste Ichiro, you must succeed.”

Ichiro nodded in acceptance and returned to his food without complaint. Hiashi felt his pride in his son grow. Ichiro was accepting of his responsibilities and duties as the clan heir. He knew that most children would whine and fret over early admission. Academics and physical training was hardly an area children fawned over. 

Ichiro was superior to other children. He was beyond childish notions such as playing and wasting his time idly. His son used his time wisely, training and bettering himself. He was remarkably intelligent. Hiashi was not biased nor was he boastful. It was factual. 

Ichiro was superior. 

He read advanced academic treaties and journals on military tactics fluently at the age of two. He discussed war strategies and demonstrated a clever militaristic aptitude at the age of three. At four, he was wielding his sword as an extension of his body, as an extra limb. He took initiative, coming to his office one night with a determined gaze, requesting an upgrade in his training, specifically in speed acceleration. 

His son never voiced a single complaint, even when he trained him for long long hours. Hiashi knew his training regimen was challenging. Other children would cry and quit on the first day. It was brutal but the life of a shinobi was fraught with danger. He may have deprived his son of a normal happy childhood but he could at least ensure his survival in the world. He saw no reason to let him waste his time idly. Being idle would get him killed. He would not lose his son on a mission gone wrong. 

Hiashi wanted him prepared. 

It was the only way he could protect him.

Ichiro worked really hard. The calluses grew on his small hands. He had fallen to his knees in exhaustion throughout the years and his body trembled from exertion but he still kept going. He had developed high fevers after long hours of training but he pushed through with gritted teeth and a determined heart. 

He was the perfect heir. 

The heir he always wanted. 

Ichiro. 

The first one. 

Hiashi could envision it. 

His son would become the first in everything. 

The small child walked with his hands tucked in his sleeves. His expression was blank and his gaze was neutral. There was no apprehension on his cherubic face and he was entirely unbothered as he walked next to his father. Ling mimicked his father’s unhurried and confident gait as he made his way to the academy. Crowds and pedestrians parted the streets as the Hyuuga Clan head and heir made their way through the village. 

Early admission.

Ling was not surprised when his father shared the information with him. Hiashi was not a man who wasted his time. The five year old listened to his father’s Qi. It was calm and expectant. Ling entered the academy grounds and watched with concealed amusement as the silence fell amongst the crowd. Civilians and shinobi families stared with bewildered and surprised looks. Ling bit back a smile - Oh father - Hiashi had not shared the news with anyone. He was a very private man. 

Ling wondered if his uncle was aware. Probably not. The man would have voiced his concerns. Ling had turned five three days ago. His father was quick. Ling admired the man for his efficiency. He had the qualities of a leader.

Ling followed after his father. The man did not spare a glance to the villagers gathered. Ling gazed around with mild curiosity. He saw the Inuzaka matriarch and the Uchiha matriarch. They were hard to miss. Interesting. 

His father strode past them without a single glance and walked into the academy. Ling sighed internally at the blatant dismissal and made deliberate eye contact with each woman, giving them a respectful nod. He watched as the matriarchs blinked in surprise and returned his greeting unexpectedly. 

Ling smiled innocently and turned on his heel. 

The pair of shinobi that tested his abilities were nervous. Ling read the heightened nerves in their Qi as they spoke to him politely. They were wary of the clan head’s presence. His father stood off in the corner with his hands tucked in his sleeves. His gaze was expectant and calculating. Ling had no choice but to demonstrate his abilities fully. He couldn’t skive his responsibilities with the clan head in the room watching him with an assessing expression. 

Ling picked up the pen and breezed through the written test. He flipped the content hurriedly, his small hand moving quickly over the pages. 

An essay. 

His hand cramped as he wrote quickly in neat penmanship. 

He flipped the page.

Military tactics.

He flipped the page. 

Personal Goals.

He flipped the page.

History.

Ling lowered his pencil and gazed ahead. The nin picked up his completed work and flipped through the pages. His eyes widened in alarm and he made hurried notes on his clipboard. Ling tucked his hands in his sleeves and waited patiently. 

“Perfect.” The nin breathed in disbelief. 

He exchanged bewildered glances with his partner. 

“I…” He cleared his throat. “This is the highest score since…since the Uchiha Heir.” He flipped through his papers and frowned. 

“Oh!” He spoke in surprise. “Your score is in fact higher than Uchiha Itachi’s score. You beat him by five points.”

Ling nodded silently. His father’s Qi prickled in smugness. The child bit back an amused snort. They tested his chakra manipulation next. Ling ran up the walls and stuck to the ceiling with a bored expression. They tested his element next. He had an air affinity. The two nin exchanged glances and communicated silently. They led them out of the examination room to the open training fields. They were empty. The rest of the academy students were in their classes. 

The instructors explained the remainder of the examination, gesturing the wooden boards and trees. Ling nodded and moved his small hands into his weapon pouch. He flexed his wrist and threw his kunai knives. 

Dead centre.

The nin cleared his throat and gestured to his partner. The shinobi swallowed nervously, glancing at the clan head before he took a fighting stance. 

Taijutsu. 

Ling took a deep breath and lunged. 

The sweat trickled down his cherubic face. His chest rose and fell in exertion. Ling blocked an incoming blade and leaped backwards, standing on one hand. He twisted in the air and sent a kick to the Jounin’s kneecap. The man grunted and moved back a step. Ling suppressed a smirk and moved in with his blade. The nin blocked his hit and Ling dived in between his open legs. He cut the tendons of his ankles swiftly and watched as the nin toppled with a pained cry. Ling stood up with a grimace. He eyed the injured instructor and suppressed the apology on the tip of his tongue. He didn’t cut deep; he didn’t want to kill the unfortunate nin. 

His partner stepped forward, clapping his hands, signifying the end of the test. He gazed at the other instructor with wide eyes. He cleared his throat and stared down at the tiny child with a wary gaze.

“We will have the results to you by tonight Hyuuga-sama after we speak with the Hokage.”

Hiashi nodded curtly and turned on his heel. Ling hesitated and gazed at the injured nin and his fretting partner. Ling looked to his father who was moving away without a backward glance. The five year old stepped to the injured instructor and whispered a quiet apology. The shinobi stared at him in surprise and he turned on his heel, rushing quickly after his father.

The Jounin men sat in their designated corner in the crowded bar. Shiranui Genma nursed a glass of hard liquor. His friends sat around him, rowdy and excitable. Drinks at their usual bar was their way to unwind after long missions. The trio had been taking more outside missions lately. 

Genma was not avoiding the Hyuuga Heir. He had developed a new interest in their neighbours. That was all. The Jounin lifted his head as the door to the bar swung open and his friend walked in with a harried expression. 

Genma raised a hand and waved his friend over. Izumo Kamizuki had taken a temporary post in the shinobi academy to cover for the sick instructors with his best friend. The Jounin rushed over and grabbed Hayate’s glass, tossing it back in one shot. 

Hayate blinked in drunken confusion and stared at his empty glass with a pout. Izumo slid in next to Raidou and waved the bartender over, ordering hard liquor with a sense of urgency. 

Genma arched an eyebrow at the unexpected behaviour. 

“Is teaching that bad?”

“I…” Izumo cleared his throat. 

“Where is Kotetsu?” Raidou questioned, peering around curiously.

Genma arched an eyebrow in surprise. Izumo and Kotetsu were like siamese twins. One was never without the other. It was unprecedented. Izumo scowled at the question and grabbed Genma’s drink impatiently, downing it hurriedly. 

“He’s in the hospital.”

Hayate coughed. “Wait… I thought you were at the academy testing centre covering for the two nin who got the flu.”

Raidou leaned forward eagerly with a wolfish grin. He loved good gossip. His drink slouched on the table and Genma’s eyebrow twitched at the mess. Raidou smirked at his best friend and picked up his drink with a wink. He took a large gulp-

“He got his tendons severed! He won’t be walking for weeks!”

-and spat it out all over Hayate. 

Hayate hissed like a wet cat and kicked his friend under the table. Raidou winced and Genma smirked at his friend’s pain. The Jounin rubbed his sore ankle and stared in bewilderment at Izumo.

“Dude…that’s terrifying. What happened?”

Genma lifted his newly acquired glass and took a large drink-

“It was the Hyuuga Heir! He started the academy today. Vicious little child!”

-he spat his drink in shock and wheezed at the burning sensation in his throat. Hayate threw his hands up with an indignant hiss. Raidou paled drastically and patted his choking friend on his back roughly. The Jounin slammed his glass on the table, ignoring the curses of his soaked friend and turned his undivided attention to the temporary instructor. 

“Tell me everything.” 

The three friends sat in silence for a long time. Izumo had departed reluctantly. He needed to check on his siamese twin in the hospital. 

“So…we do outside missions until our death?” Hayate suggested weakly.

Genma buried his face in his hands with a groan.

“Maybe we can transfer? Hey don’t we have a tentative peace treaty in the works with Kumo? We can ask the Hokage to send us to Kumo for the next decade or so.” Raidou suggested with a nervous smile.

His friends stared at him.

“Kumo?” Genma hissed in irritation. “You’d risk your life in Kumo rather than-”

“Oi! It’s not like you have any better ideas!”

“We’re not going to Kumo.” Hayate interrupted.

“Let’s fake our death on our next outside mission.” The coughing nin suggested.

Raidou sputtered. “That’s treason.” He whispered with wide eyes.

Hayate stared at his drink with a dead expression. He narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. “Maybe if I cough hard enough I can hack out my lungs…”

“Oi.”

“Please don’t…”

Hayate stared determinedly at his glass.

Cough cough cough.

“Hayate!”

Ling gazed at the scroll with wide eyes. He turned his disbelieving gaze to his father and read over the content of the scroll for the third time. He narrowed his pale gaze and pursed his lips tightly. 

“Father, am I reading this correctly?” 

Hiashi’s eyes lit up in satisfaction.

“Yes.”

“I’m being moved to the…” He peered at the scroll again. “To the twelve year old class. That’s…the final class, right? Don’t they graduate in six months father?”

“Precisely. I would rather not waste your time at the academy at all but Hokage-sama insisted you needed to… socialize.” He spoke with a disapproving gaze as if the mere idea of socializing was beneath him. 

“Socialize?” Ling repeated. “With twelve year olds?”

Hiashi’s Qi prickled in anticipation. “You’re forgetting something very crucial my son.”

Ling blinked up at his father and he tilted his head to the side in confusion. Hiashi stepped forward and clasped him on the shoulder in a firm hold. The five year old’s mind raced in thought and his pale eyes widened in surprise. 

“The Uchiha Heir.” He breathed in shock. 

Hiashi narrowed his eyes. “Yes,” he spoke with a distasteful tone. “That child - the Uchiha prodigy - is in that class.”

Ling blinked in shock. He gazed down at the scroll and peered at the Hokage’s stamp. Uchiha Itachi was two years older than him. He was seven years old. He had a reputable reputation as the undisputed genius. Itachi had tested out of his classes and was moved up rapidly. Ling’s  childhood was filled with memories of his father speaking of the Uchiha heir’s skills - The number one prodigy - The first in everything. 

Ling’s eyes lit up in anticipation. 

Uchiha Itachi.  

He couldn’t wait to meet him.  

The Yondaime Hokage peered at the list of young students thoughtfully. The academy students were graduating in six months time. The young blond man tapped his finger thoughtfully on his desk. Forming genin teams was his duty and it took careful thought and planning. 

The leader paused thoughtfully, peering at another report. Hyuuga Ichiro. The five year old was an anomaly. His skillset was remarkable. His report was detailed and his results were unprecedented. He had taken down a Jounin twice his size and hospitalized him. The heir was truly the firstborn of the powerful clan of perfectionists, the offspring of Hyuuga Hiashi. 

Minato stared at the list of students, his tired eyes falling on another young prodigy. 

Uchiha Itachi.

Minato pursed his lips in thought and leaned back in his chair. 

The Uchiha Clan.

Minato peered at the names thoughtfully, an idea forming in his mind. He knew without a doubt that both prodigies would pass the academy exam with flying colours. 

Hyuuga and Uchiha.

Both clans did not get along.

They stayed firmly apart. 

Never had two members of the clan been assigned on a genin team together.

Minato did not agree with the segregation of each clan. It was time to bring them together. Konoha had to be united.

The blond man smiled.

It was unprecedented but the answer was simple.

The future was in the young ones. The children of the village would lead them.

The Hokage picked up his pen and wrote down the members of the new genin teams. 

The clan heads would throw a fit but an order was an order. 

They could not disobey.

Minato frowned thoughtfully. Two geniuses, two clan heirs. Uchiha and Hyuuga. They would need an emotionally stable and trustworthy Jounin instructor. He pursed his lips in thought. He needed a shinobi he could trust, one who the clans would not object. A shinobi with a reputable reputation and talent. 

His lips quirked upwards. He knew the perfect man for the job. The tokubetsu jounin. His own personal guard was the perfect match. The tired leader waved his hand, summoning the ANBU operative silently. His blue eyes lit up in anticipation as he signed off the scroll. Minato stamped the scroll with the Hokage seal and handed it to the ANBU operative.

“Delivery Hokage-sama.” The ANBU confirmed lowly. 

Minato nodded in confirmation. 

“To Shiranui Genma.”

Chapter Text

Chapter Five

The sunlight filtered through the open curtains. The air was crisp and the village was painted in an array of orange, brown and yellow colours as the autumn season drew closer. Shiranui Genma gazed at the clock. It was early morning. A soft knock resonated on his door. The Jounin lowered his tea cup and made his way to his entrance. The nin opened the door and his eyebrows rose at the sight of the ANBU operative. He was handed a scroll with a curt nod and the ANBU shunshined away in a flash.

Genma stared down at the scroll with a sense of trepidation. He was back at his post as the guard for the Yondaime Hokage. There was no reason for him to receive a separate mission scroll. His time outside the village was over. The Jounin closed the door to his apartment and made his way back into his kitchen. He lifted his mug of tea, taking a lengthy sip and he unravelled the scroll with deft hands. Brown caramel eyes widened in shock and he coughed harshly, spitting out the caffeinated tea. Genma lowered the scroll wide disbelieving eyes. It clattered to the ground, rolling open. 

Genma stared at the damning words. They were real. They were not a figment of his imagination. He stared at the Hokage seal with wide eyes. He ran a hand through his brown locks and lowered his tea mug with a loud thunk. Genma picked up the scroll, narrowing his eyes at the Kage’s order. 

Jounin sensei position: Effective immediately.

Genin students: Uchiha Itachi. Maki Aburame. Hyuga Ichiro.

Genma wheezed a disbelieving breath and his fingers curled around the scroll. 

“No, no, no. This isn’t happening.” He whispered in denial. 

The Jounin tugged on his hair and suppressed the urge to scream in frustration. He was unfit to teach. He had never been in a position of instruction. He was a guard, an elite ANBU who took on assassination missions. He was a team captain and leader. He did not interact with children and avoided them for his convenience. He was not cut out to care for children. A Jounin sensei had to cultivate the young minds, teach his students about the importance of teamwork and protect their backs. A Jounin sensei was not a short-term commitment. It was a longterm, lifelong position. Instructors worked as mentors and they guided their students through the various life trials.

Genma couldn’t make that commitment. 

The Jounin’s eyes lingered on the names and his eyes widened in realization. 

Uchiha and Hyuga.

On the same team.

It was unprecedented. 

The nin knelt down and picked up the scroll hurriedly. He tucked the commands into his vest and slipped on his sandals. He exited his apartment with quick steps and leapt to the rooftops. 

He had to speak with the Yondaime directly. 

The Yondaime of Konohagakure sat in his expansive office reading through his scrolls. He eyed the stack of reports on his desk and he sighed heavily. Namikaze Minato lifted his head as his window was opened and his personal guard entered through the window, ignoring protocol as usual. Minato smiled in amusement at the ruffled sight of the Tokubetsu Jōnin.

“Ah Genma-san, you came quickly. I only sent the mission scroll a few minutes ago.”

Shiranui Genma made his way to his desk and bowed respectfully. The blond leader lowered his scroll and turned his undivided attention to the Jounin. The nin had the scroll clasped tightly in his hands and his jaw was clenched tightly. 

“Hokage-sama, I-”

Minato raised a hand and shook his head. “I know what you will say Genma-san. You believe yourself to be unfit, correct?”

Genma swallowed and lowered his gaze. Minato smiled softly at his longtime guard. He sighed and leaned forward, clasping his fingers together with an expression of seriousness. 

“I have a vision Genma,” Minato began softly. “Of a united Konoha. I know that the clans have been kept apart but it's my hope that will not be the case forever. Konoha is stronger together than it is separate.”

“I have never taught before Hokage-sama.”

Minato smiled and his expression gentled as he thought of his own prodigy student. “Yes, one of yours is graduating at five years of age. I thought Kakashi-kun would be the last one to graduate so early.” 

The blond sighed and leaned back in his chair. “Teaching a genius is not easy. I understand its daunting but I cannot have anyone teach these children Genma-san. It has to be someone I trust and I trust you with their future. They are both heirs of the strongest clans and they are both remarkable in their own ways. I have high expectations for both of them. Genma-san, children are the future of our village. If the Hyuga clan and the Uchiha Clan come together in the future, through the friendship of their future leaders, we as a village will thrive and grow stronger.”

Minato stood up and made his way towards his longterm guard and friend. He clasped him on the shoulder and smiled softly, his blue gaze imploring and trusting. 

“Accept my command and carry on my will Genma. Help me make a unified village.”

Genma met his gaze with an expression of determination and resolve. He bowed deeply. 

“Understood Hokage-sama.” 

The five year old made his way into the Hyuga compound sneakily. He climbed over the tall walls with an impish grin. Ling listened to his surroundings, honing in on the familiar Qi of his family members. He listened to his mother’s frail Qi and he smiled excitedly at the second flutter of energy that pulsed within her. She was pregnant. He was going to have a little sister. The child walked silently onto the rooftops and he ducked immediately, sensing the presence of his uncle’s warm Qi drawing closer. 

Ling cursed under his breath silently. His uncle’s Qi was prickling in concern and anxiousness. He was looking for him. The five year old held his breath and suppressed his chakra entirely. He did not attend the academy, not for a single day. He hoped his uncle hadn’t caught on. He spent his days in the woods upgrading his weaponry and taking nap breaks. He had no desire to sit through monotonous lectures that glorified Konoha. 

Ling heaved a relieved sigh as his uncle’s energy drifted away from the vicinity. The nin left the compound, searching for the five year old elsewhere. Ling stretched out his senses, listening to his father’s Qi. His father was in the deeper parts of the compound. He was in the large meeting hall, held up in a long assembly with the clan elders. His energy was clinical and crisp. The pale child snuck past the first branch and second branch members, moving on silent feet, ducking and hiding expertly as he made his way to his uncle’s house. 

Ling snuck in from the window and he grinned brightly, gazing at the cot that held his favourite relative. The small child was asleep. The one year old was curled up in a tiny ball, breathing softly. The boy walked towards his little cousin and ran a gentle hand over his soft hair. Hyuga Neji was utterly precious. The five year old watched his cousin sleep with a soft smile. He took a seat next to his cot and rested his back against the wall.

Ling chuckled lightly as he heard the toddler gurgle in his sleep. He stood up and gathered his cousin’s sleeping form in his arms, patting his back with gentle hands. Ling made his way towards the window, gazing outside with warm eyes. It was dark out. The moon was full. The five year old froze in his spot as he felt a foreboding sensation overtake him. A shiver run down his back ominously and he tightened his hold on his little cousin desperately. Something was wrong. 

The five year old swayed suddenly as a surge of foul energy pulsed through the village violently. 

Ling reeled forward and he cried out in alarm. 

A massive explosion echoed throughout the village, tearing through the serene silence. Ling fell to the ground shakily as the oppressive feeling of miasmic hatred and intense rage filtered through the vicinity. The anger was large. It was monstrous. It was not human. It was akin to the rage of Wrath. A feral animalistic scream cut through the village and the ground trembled violently. Ling gazed up at the ceiling with wide eyes as the building began shaking. His eyes widened in horror as the ceiling began crumbling rapidly. 

Ling turned on his heel and he threw himself out the window, crashing through the glass as the building collapsed entirely. The glass tore through his skin and he fell to his knees as he watched the structures collapse around him.

Cries and screams of agony filtered through the vicinity. Ling stared down at his wailing cousin with a shaking heart. He tightened his hold on the toddler and he ran through the collapsing compound desperately. 

Mother! 

Father!

Ling ran desperately. He whipped his head around searchingly. He gazed at the destruction around him with wide terrified eyes. His clansmen and women were running and fleeing. Others stayed behind and helped their injured members escape. Ling winced as he felt the agony and sadness engulf his lungs. His throat constricted as the waves and waves of grief and fear slammed into him. He gasped for air desperately. The negative emotions were heavy. They weighed on him. It was coming from everywhere. All at once. The entire village was filled with screams and heightened feelings of pain, pain, pain. 

It was too much. 

It was too loud. 

It sounded like a million agonized souls screaming at once. 

Ling’s vision blurred and he pushed his body forward desperately, running through the crowd searchingly. 

Uncle!

Please be okay!

“Ichiro!”

Ling paused in his steps and his eyes widened. His shoulders slumped forward in relief.

“Father!” 

Hyuga Hiashi grasped him by the shoulders tightly, examining him with terrified eyes. His Qi was thrumming with concern and fear. The relief flooded through his energy and he knelt down in front of him. He gazed down at the crying toddler in his arms. Hiashi released a relieved breath and he grasped his small chin in a firm hold. 

“Son, you need to get to safety. Take Neji and go towards the emergency hideouts.”

“But father-”

“I will find your mother.”

“I can help!” Ling pleaded. “I can find her much faster than everyone else. Please father!”

Hiashi shook his head and he stood up. “No, I will not lose you. Take your cousin and go.”

Ling gritted his teeth tightly and he gave a curt nod. He turned on his heel and rushed through the debilitated structures. He turned his gaze from the destruction and pushed forward. He ran past his home and he paused in his tracks. His eyes widened in horror as he stared at his desecrated home. Ling heard the Qi - the two familiar energies - and he yelled for his father desperately. 

“Father! Father! Mother is here! She’s trapped!”

Hiashi appeared next to him in a flash. He gazed at the rubble and he ordered his clan members to help with removing the broken structures. Another fierce tremor and feral scream tore through the village. The nin fell to the ground from the violent impact. Ling curled his body around his cousin’s tiny form and he cried out in pain as the stray rubble hit his shoulder. He heard the sickening crack of bones. His arm burnt and the pain thrummed through his small body.  

Ling raised his head weakly. The blood streamed down his pale face and he reached shakily for his father. The clan head pulled his small body forward as another tremor ran through the village, sending them sprawling in different directions. Ling held onto his cousin tightly. His father shielded him with his body and he raised his head in concern as he heard a pained groan. Ling clung onto his father’s robes. Hiashi was injured. He listened to his Qi desperately and he heaved a relieved sigh. His injuries were not fatal. His energy was thrumming strong.

Ling stretched out his senses desperately, seeking out the energy of his mother and unborn sibling. 

“No.” He whispered brokenly.

He couldn’t hear anything. 

Nothing.

“No…no…no. This isn’t happening. Please.” He ignored his father’s protests as he stood up. 

Ling stood up shakily, ignoring the protests of his muscles. The blood ran down his face and he moved desperately towards the rubble. He stretched out his senses, begging the heavens silently for mercy. 

Please. Please. Please. 

She’s my little sister. 

Please. Please. Please. 

She’s my mother. 

Ling felt the hot tears run down his face as he reached his desecrated home. Silence greeted him. There was no energy. The silence confirmed his fears. Ling shook his head in disbelief and the sobs broke through his small form. He hugged his cousin’s crying form to his body tightly as his heart shattered into fragmented pieces. He watched helplessly as his father ordered the men and women to begin removing the rubble. 

“Hurry!” Hiashi urged desperately.

Ling watched the scene brokenly. 

It was too late.

They were dead. 

They were gone.

Ling fell to his knees and cried. 

Ichiro! 

Ichiro! 

Ichiro! 

“Ichiro!”

Ling lifted his gaze in bewilderment. His father sat in front of him with a concerned expression.  The man had blood running down his face and he was covered in dust and dirt. The child gazed around him in confusion and his eyes widened in horror. Chaos and destruction surrounded him.  The compound was filled with smoke. Flames burnt through the rubble. The smell of burnt flesh and decay proliferated in the air. Bodies lay on the ground unmoving. Members of his clan were trapped under rubble, screaming and groaning in agony. Others ran by hurriedly, their faces were alit in trepidation as they rushed towards the battlefield. 

Ling lowered his gaze to his little cousin and his eyes watered. His father gripped his shoulders tightly, shaking him desperately. He was calling out to him. His voice was distant and distorted. Ling clenched his eyes shut tightly and he fought against the agonizing pain of heightened emotions. All the souls in the village were screaming in pain, in terror, in loss. 

It was excruciating. 

Ling felt his body tremble and he lowered his cousin to the ground with shaking hands. He gripped his head as the emotions grew louder and louder. They were deafening. Ling dug his nails into his scalp and he groaned in pain.

It was too much.

Too much, too much, too much.

Ling kneeled over and screamed as his mind was hammered with the tumultuous grief. 

The dark spots filled his vision rapidly. 

He blacked out.

The child’s pale eyes shot open and he stared ahead at the vast darkness that stretched on for miles and miles with a sense of bewilderment. Ling frowned and he took a step forward into the vacant void. The space reminded him of another time but he couldn’t discern the exact details. He tilted his head to the side, peering into the dark abyss. 

“Hello?” He called out unsurely.

Silence.

His voice echoed in the empty vicinity. 

Ling moved forward warily, entering the dark dwelling. The sound of his quiet steps filled the space. Step, step, step. He blinked down in confusion as he heard the sound of splashing. The boy frowned at the wet residue on the ground and he knelt down inquisitively. Water? No. It was a dark substance that was too black to be water.

Ling furrowed his brows and he stood up with a frown. He heard a distant sound. It was an enraged scream and he hurried towards the sound. The child stepped forward and his eyes widened in horror at the sight. 

There, strapped to the walls, was a lean and lithe figure, chained above. The figure had his head lowered. He was distinctly male and was dressed entirely in dark clothing. His skin was fair and pale. He wore a long black trench coat and dark boots. His hair was obsidian and it obscured his face. His locks were held in a low ponytail that fell past his shoulders. 

Ling stepped forward hesitantly. There was an incessant tugging in his mind - a fragmented memory - a feeling of displacement and discombobulation. His mind oscillated between a need to flee and a desire to move closer. 

There was a sense of reunion in the air. 

Disbelief thrummed through the dark recesses of his mind and he stared at the chained figure in dismounting horror. The chained man raised his head and he found himself staring into dark crimson eyes. 

A familiar smirk spread on the man’s pale face and he pulled on his thick chains with a low hiss.

“Hello prince,” he spoke in a familiar tone.

Chapter Text

I am pleased to share a work of art for this story.                                                                                                              Many thanks to Writingishard for their fanart!

Chapter Six

The Clan Head stared down at the small unconscious body laying in the infirmary bed. He sighed heavily and he took a seat in the adjacent chair. The father stared at his unresponsive son with a concerned gaze. Hyuuga Hiashi steepled his fingers together and he leaned forward, gazing at his heir worriedly. Hyuuga Ichiro was not waking up. He had passed out - clutching his head in pain as agonized screams tore through his small throat - He did not retain his consciousness. The widowed clan head lifted his head as his twin brother entered the room quietly. In his arms lay the sleeping toddler. 

Hiashi nodded curtly and his brother walked towards the bed steadily. Both men stared down at the small five year old in concern. The silence resonated through the vicinity - It was heavy and the atmosphere was saturated with extreme grief. They had lost so much. He had lost so much. The Clan Head reached forward and took his son’s small hand in his hold. He squeezed gently, coaxing the small child helplessly. 

He couldn’t lose his son. He couldn’t. He had lost his wife and unborn child in the Kyuubi Attack. The building had collapsed. He found his wife’s crushed body laying unmoving underneath piles of rubble. Her stomach was cold. There was no sound of a heartbeat. Both child and mother suffocated to death. The funeral was to be held in a few days. The Hyuuga Clan was perplexed over the heir’s unconscious state. They lit the vigils for consecutive nights and prayed endlessly for their heir. 

Hiashi swallowed thickly and he lowered his head. He held back his grief determinedly. He was the clan head. He did not have the luxury of losing himself to his emotions. He had to lead. It was his plight. The father stared at his child helplessly and he pleaded silently - praying for the health of his heir and first born.

The Jounin knelt down on the scorched grass and he gazed ahead at the cold memorial stone. He clenched his fists and swallowed thickly. Shiranui Genma stared helplessly at the carvings - the names of the fallen - and his eyes watered in lament. He stared at the name of his friend and leader - The Yondaime Hokage - Minato Namikaze was dead. Genma took a deep breath and he pressed his callused hands against his swollen eyelids. 

“Why?” He whispered weakly. “Why did you go first?” He asked hoarsely.

The wind blew through his rumpled clothes and he gazed unblinkingly at the names of the deceased. The dead did not speak. Namikaze Minato did not respond. He was gone. Genma closed his eyes and envisioned the visage of the Kage he revered - Bright twinkling blue eyes, a soft kind smile, a warm disposition - He would cherish his memory and honour his final wishes. It was the least he could do for his friend and leader. Genma took a deep breath and he stared down at the scroll in his hands. 

I have a vision Genma. Of a united Konoha. I know that the clans have been kept apart but it's my hope that will not be the case forever. Konoha is stronger together than it is separate. 

The scroll was wrinkled at the sides from his tight grip. He spent nights tracing the writing on the scroll. The hurried excited penmanship of his friend comforted his aching heart on the long sleepless nights. The Jounin lifted the paper weakly and unrolled it with shaky hands.   

He stared down at the words through a blurry vision. He took a deep breath and pressed a hand against his aching heart. The soft excitable words of Minato echoed in his mind. It was his dream. 

True unification. 

A stronger and better Konoha.

Accept my command and carry on my will Genma. Help me make a unified village. 

The Jounin clenched his fists tightly and he stared down at the penmanship with a watery vision. Hot determination thrummed through his veins. Uchiha Itachi and Hyuuga Ichiro. His students - Uchiha Itachi, Hyuuga Ichiro and Maki Aburame. He had his duties to carry out. He was their Jounin sensei and he would fight tooth and nail for his genin students. 

Minato Namikaze’s final wishes - to bring both clans together under the alliance and friendship of their respective heirs. To create a stronger and unified village. He would see to it - Genma vowed. He would see the Yondaime’s dream flourish. He would teach his students without cutting corners. Protect them. Guide them. Aid them. Genma vowed - He solidified his promise to his superior, pressing a callused hand against the cold stone - I promise - He would carry out his will. 

Sarutobi Hiruzen leaned back in his seat. He listened to the conversations around him with a tired disposition. The Hat of the Kage felt heavy on his head. He did not desire to carry out the responsibilities of the village a second time. He had spent an entire lifetime working tirelessly for the Leaf. He had his turn. He had carried out his Will of Fire. 

The wizened man was grieving heavily for his loss. His favoured successor was dead. Namikaze Minato was a bright young man whose life ended early - too early. His beloved wife had perished in the attack. His grandson was left fatherless. His apartment was cold - empty - desolate. He had reached his retirement contently, only to be dragged back into the realm of politics and strife. 

He was tired. 

The esteemed scholar suppressed a heavy sigh as he watched the Clan Heads enter the meeting hall one by one. The air was solemn. The room was silent. The councilmen stood up, signifying the beginning of the meeting. 

The Clan Heads sat in their designated seats - Nara, Akimichi and Yamanaka took the corner as a unified force. Aburame and Inuzaka sat adjacent to each other. Uchiha and Hyuuga sat on opposing sides, neither Clan Head glanced at their respective dojutsu rival. The civilian representatives sat at the very far end of the table. 

The political manoeuvring began. 

Hiruzen suppressed a weary sigh.

Shimura Danzo cleared his throat and began the meeting. The reconstruction of Konoha was the cause for the meeting. Shimura resolved to relocate the Uchiha Clan. Hiruzen stared tiredly at the Uchiha Clan Head and he itched for his tobacco pipe. 

It was going to be a long and tiresome meeting.

Uchiha Fugaku gritted his teeth angrily and he suppressed his rage as the feeling of injustice thrummed hotly through his veins. He watched helplessly as the councilman pointed to an isolated section on the map - indicating the new location for the Uchiha Clan. The Uchiha Clan was segregated, removed from the centre of the village and tossed off to the sides like remains. Fugaku gazed around the room helplessly - The clan heads avoided his gaze - They did not meet his eyes. They were all passive observants to his humiliation. 

The Uchiha Clan had fought against the Nine-tails attack. They had lost a large number of their men and women in the destruction. They had fought in the front lines in the war - for years and years. They had bled and died for Konoha. And yet…

Shimura Danzo smirked in satisfaction. Fugaku crossed his arms over his chest to hide the tremors in his hands. He held his anger in check. No one spoke out against the orders. The Hokage remained silent, watching the meeting with a passive gaze. His expression was neutral. 

Fugaku heard the whispers in the village. He was not blind. The relocation was the beginning. His stomach sank in fear and he listened tiredly to the conclusion of the meeting. He stood up, bowing hurriedly to the elders and made his way to the destroyed compound. He took a deep breath and cleared his face into a neutral mask. He had to inform his clan of the changes. The esteemed head rushed through the village. The reconstruction crews moved around him. He stepped into the temporary lodgings and he summoned a weak smile as he saw his seven year old son.

Itachi held his graduation scroll in his hands proudly. The small boy rushed towards him with an eager expression and he bowed respectfully. Fugaku pressed a hand against his son’s thin shoulder and he inquired about his examination results. The father watched his son retell his examination details with deep pride. He ruffled his hair fondly and led him deeper into their temporary lodging. His anxiety curbed as he listened to his child narrate his day with a soft voice. 

The pale child’s eyelashes fluttered slowly and his pale lavender eyes opened weakly. He stared up at the unfamiliar ceiling with a sense of confusion. Ling groaned at the bright lights and he closed his eyes tightly. His mouth was dry and his throat felt parched. He smacked his lips and scrunched his nose in distaste. He opened his eyes warily and he catalogued his surroundings mentally. 

Sterile walls.

Beeping machinery. 

The scent of disinfectant. 

Infirmary. 

Ling frowned and he sat up slowly. 

His entire body ached. 

The five year old stared down at his wrapped arm. He was in a cast. His eyes widened in understanding - The screams, the agony and heightened grief, the collapsed structures - The child rolled on his side and retched violently. He groaned pitifully and wiped his mouth with a frown. He flinched at the pain in his mind. He pressed a small hand to his bandaged head and frowned. 

He felt like he was forgetting something of importance. There was a faint memory - an echo of dark laugh, a sharp smirk - It instilled a deep visceral reaction in him. Fear. Ling shivered at the fragmented memory. It was slipping like quicksand. The child focused - breathing deeply - listening desperately to the darkness in his mind.

Nothing.

He couldn’t remember.

He frowned and stared at the empty room with a troubled disposition. He felt hollow. His eyes watered as he recalled his loss. The child curled his small hands into his bedsheets and he blinked his wet eyes rapidly. 

Mother. 

She was gone. 

Little sister. 

She was gone. 

Ling held back a broken sob and he bit down on his lips harshly. The door to his room opened and he lifted his head with wide eyes. His father froze in his tracks, staring at him with wide eyes. His Qi prickled with heightened sorrow - There was an emerging emotion in his energy - It was strong and it overpowered the sadness. 

Immense relief. 

Ling stared ahead helplessly and his eyes burned hotly with unshed tears. His father slid the door shut and he moved towards him with brisk steps. 

“F-father,” he croaked brokenly. 

Mother.

Sister.

They’re gone.

The man made it to his bedside with a stern expression. He stared down at the five year old with a neutral gaze. Ling stared up at the rigid man with a lost expression. Hyuuga Hiashi took a seat on his bed and the child reached a small hand towards him hesitantly. The man’s stern expression broke into an expression of grief and loss. Ling felt his hold on his emotions snap - The tears flowed freely down his cherubic face. 

Hiashi reached forward and embraced him tightly. 

The pale seven year old walked through the temporary lodgings searchingly. The units were crowded and families were housed together tightly. Distant relatives were placed together - first cousins and second cousins grouped together in small spaces. The air was uncomfortable and adults and children alike were subdued.

Uchiha Itachi entered the temporary lodgings and he made his way through the bodies searchingly. He exchanged greetings with his clan members with a soft intonation and made his way through the narrow halls. He made his way to the small room at the end of the corridor and he knocked on the door with consecutive taps. 

The door slid open and his cousin peered at him with a tired gaze. His eyes were swollen and his disposition was tired. Itachi pursued his lips in concern as he was wordlessly let into the room. The seven year old watched his best friend silently. His cousin shuffled with his sparse belongings, packing the remaining possessions he salvaged from the wreckage. 

“Shisui…” Itachi began softly.

He paused and closed his mouth. He didn’t know what to say. It was customary to offer condolences - an apology - I’m sorry for your loss - but it didn’t feel right. The words were on his tongue but he could not vocalize them. They felt empty. Shisui had lost his home, his family. His father had perished in the Kyuubi Attack - burnt by the hot pulsing chakra. There was nothing to salvage of his remains, not a single kunai, blade or bone. He was burnt to the crisp. Shisui had nothing left of him. His mother had died as the building collapsed on her, soon after. 

Shisui was an orphan. 

“Don’t say anything Itachi, I’ve been hearing the same thing over and over again. It’s exhausting.”

Shisui turned to him with a pointed look and he nodded slowly. 

“Is… Is there anything I can do?” Itachi asked softly with wide imploring eyes.

He wanted to help.

Anything. 

Please.

Shisui gazed at him silently for a reflective moment. His cheerful expression was void - his demeanour was exhausted and bereft of joy - He was grieving like everyone else in the village. Itachi sympathized with his plight but he didn’t understand. He couldn’t relate. He never experienced loss directly. All his family members were safe - wholly intact and healthy - Sasuke was well. Mother was well. Father was well. 

Shisui nodded slowly and waved him over to his piles of belongings. “Help me pack. I heard we’re moving soon.”

Itachi smiled a small relieved smile. He walked over to his cousin and grabbed the damage books with careful hands. “Yes, I heard we will be moved to the outskirts of Konoha.”

Shisui froze. His hands remained outstretched towards his books - hovering silently - as a number of emotions ran through his pale face, too quick to decipher. 

“Shisui?”

Itachi stared at his cousin questioningly and the ten year old shrugged dismissively. 

“It’s nothing.” He said quietly.

Itachi nodded hesitantly. 

“I’m taking the Jounin Exam soon.” Shisui shared in a forced tone as he tried to deliver fake cheer. “I will go ahead of you and you have lots to catch up on.”

Itachi nodded with a small smile. He had no doubts his cousin would pass. Shisui was remarkably talented; he unlocked his Mangyakou when he was seven years old. He served in the front lines of the war. Itachi had no doubt he would pass with high results.

The seven year old pursed his lips in thought. His genin team assignment would occur in the next few days. He was concerned over the arrangements. It was no secret that Itachi did not get along with his peers - Students in academy often shunned him or avoided him. He was too advanced, too intelligent, too talented. He was often treated with envy and distrust. Aside from Izumi, no other student sought out his company. 

He had tried to reach out on occasion - correcting his classmates on their form and techniques but his attempts were met with scorn and anger. Itachi frowned at the memories - You’re so condescending and patronizing! - He didn’t understand - You always act like you’re better than us! - He only wanted to help - We don’t need your help! - He offered advice freely with good intentions - You pompous little brat! - The seven year old shook his head, dispelling the irksome memories away. 

Itachi stared down at the scorched books with an apprehensive expression.

He didn’t want his teammates to hate him.  

The five year old gazed down at the team assignment scroll tiredly. He blinked at the content with slow tired blinks. Ling tilted his head to the side and he furrowed his brows in confusion. He looked up at his family members for confirmation. His uncle had his sleeping cousin held in his arms securely. He appeared unsure. Little Neji was sleeping, unaware of the turmoil around him. His father sat in the infirmary chair with a blank expression. 

Both adults were uncharacteristically quiet.

“Am I…” Ling licked his lips. “Am I reading this correctly?” He asked.  

“Yes.” Hiashi intoned. “The team was assigned by the Fourth. It was his last deed and since it was his final request, the Third has decided to implement the team assignment to honour his memory.”

Ling nodded. He stared down at the names of his future teammates. He had to undertake the graduation exam in a few days. He was not exempt from the written and practical performances, only delayed due to his injuries. He was not too concerned. His skills were advanced for his age. The five year old stared down at the name of his Jounin sensei.

The name was familiar. 

Ling winced and he pressed a small hand to his aching head. His headache was back with a vengeance. Since the night of the destruction, he had been plagued with sudden and painful migraines.

“Waka-sama, is it the headaches again?” His uncle asked softly. 

Ling smiled and shook his head. “I’m fine.”

His father stared at him with shrewd eyes. Ling suppressed a sigh. He inclined his head politely and handed the scroll back to his father who stared down at it with an expression of resigned acceptance. The child slid off his bed and he pulled his stiff funeral robes on robotically. The silence permeated through the infirmary room as he changed his clothes tiredly. The nurses had cleared him and the hospital staff gave the grieving family their needed space. 

The Hyuuga Heir pushed his bangs out of his eyes and he followed his family members out of the hospital. The workers bowed to them respectfully and the boy kept his gaze forward. His face was void of any expression and he tucked his hands into his long sleeves. Back straight. Chin elevated. Face blank. The image of the perfect heir for the public. He walked through the village and the crowds parted for the esteemed Clan Head. The family made their way to the funeral procession. The clan members held the coffin of the deceased Hyuuga Yukina and her unborn child. 

Ling followed his father to the front of the procession. The clan members bowed deeply. Hiashi gazed at the dark wooden coffin with a blank gaze. His Qi was saturated with heavy sorrow. He was grieving silently, hiding his suffering under a mask of neutrality. Ling turned his gaze away and he stared ahead resolutely with a stiff expression. 

His father raised his hand from his peripheral vision, signifying the beginning of the march. The Hyuuga Clan stood unified, walking with slow and measured steps as they led the procession for their deceased. Members carried photos and memorabilia of their brothers, sisters, cousins, and spouses. Members swiftly taken from them.

Ling walked with his father, his steps were even and measured. The civilians watched with sympathetic expressions. Energies fluttered from the rooftops signifying shinobi observing silently from a distance. 

The bodies and remains would burn tonight. In cremation. The dead reduced to ashes. 

The village watched as the Hyuuga Clan walked their final walk with their dead.

Chapter Text

Chapter Seven

Uchiha Itachi bowed respectfully to his mother and he accepted the wrapped bento with a small smile. His mother - Uchiha Mikoto - eyed him for a reflective moment before she reached forward with a fond smile. She ran her hand through his hair gently and pulled him in for a brief hug. The seven year old wrapped his small arms around her waist and inhaled her comforting scent. 

She patted his back and withdrew. Itachi walked over to his little brother and gave the toddler a gentle hug. Sasuke reached towards him happily with an excited warble. Itachi smiled softly and poked his brother’s chubby cheeks. 

“Itachi, it’s time to go.” Mikoto intoned softly. 

Itachi squeezed his brother gently and he pulled back. He strapped his bag on and nodded to his mother. 

“Ittekimasu okaa-san.”

“Itterasshai Itachi.”

Itachi exited his home and he took a deep breath.

It was time to meet his team. The seven year old weaved through the villagers and he tightened his hold on his straps. The whispers drifted around him and he gazed around curiously. The Uchiha Heir frowned at the strange unexpected treatment. The air in the village felt stifling. He hurried his way to the training ground and his apprehension picked up. He was teammates with the Hyuuga Heir. It was an unprecedented arrangement. He didn’t know what to expect of the genin.

Itachi entered training ground seven and he kept his expression neutral. He saw the Jounin instructor leaning against a thick tree. A senbon blade was wedged between his lips and he gazed at him steadily, brown eyes assessing. Itachi straightened up and made his way towards the man. He bowed respectfully and stopped a meter away. 

“Hello sensei,” he intoned softly. 

“You’re early,” the Jounin remarked, staring at his watch. 

Itachi nodded. Uchiha were always punctual. He couldn’t afford to be late on his first day. Impressions were very important. He didn’t want to give his peers any reason to dislike him. Itachi gazed around. He was the only member present. He stared curiously at the Jounin sensei. The man kept his gaze on his watch and he breathed a quiet sigh. He didn’t know much about Shiranui Genma. His father told him he was an elite guard and a sensible man with a solid reputation.

The genin turned his head as he heard loud footsteps rush through the fields. A pale female with thick pigtails ran towards them. She wore a thick collar and dark glasses. Her lower-face was obscured by her turtleneck. She stopped a meter from the pair and she leaned forward, catching her breath.

“Am I late?” She gasped, pushing her hair out of her glasses.

“No.” Genma-sensei drawled. “You’re right on time.”

She nodded. “Good.”

The silence descended on the group. Itachi turned towards his sensei for instructions. He didn’t know what to say. He waited patiently, eyeing the small watch on his wrist. The minutes ticked by. The silence grew lengthier. The Jounin narrowed his eyes and he looked towards the entrance to the training grounds. He grumbled under his breath - his words were too soft to catch - and he glared at his watch with an irked expression.

The five year old turned on his side and he hummed peacefully from under the covers. His eyelashes fluttered slowly and he peered up at the white ceiling with a sleepy gaze. Ling yawned and sat up slowly. He raised his arm and stretched out the stiff feeling in his limbs. He pouted at his cast and scratched his cheek with a low grumble. The genin stood up and made his way into the bathroom. He washed up leisurely -mindful of the water- keeping it away from his injured arm. He hummed softly under his breath as he shampooed his hair.

Ling brushed his teeth and he wrinkled his nose in thought. He felt like he was forgetting something. His stomach grumbled and he stared down at his rumbling tummy in annoyance. The Hyuuga Heir shrugged, spitting out his toothpaste. Food first. His memory recollection was horrid when he was hungry. Food. He needed food. The Hyuga slipped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his body, cocooning himself in warmth. 

Ling changed his clothes and grabbed his dao sword, strapping it onto his back. He slipped out his window and made his way out of the construction zone. He made his way into the main streets and eyed the meat vendor with an anticipatory smile. Meat for breakfast was divine. He deserved meat. The five year old hopped towards the vendor. He was so happy to see her shop was still intact. The old woman smiled kindly at her regular patron and she prepared his order. 

Ling smiled and listened to the latest gossip. His eyes lit up in amusement and he nodded at the right places as the woman rambled on. He gasped in alarm and traded offended looks on her behalf as she chatted about her deplorable neighbours. Her neighbours were ghastly and bad business. 

“-And the lawn, now you’d never see me with a lawn so badly kept! The grass Ichiro, the grass is to my ankles! Can you believe it?!”

Ling shook his head in disapproval. “Truly baffling ma’am. I cannot imagine, all those weeds.”

“Oh don’t get me started on the weeds! And I  told you to call me Yushita!” She chided, flipping his meat skewers. 

Ling grinned. “Do I get any extra meat Yushita-san?” He asked, batting his long lashes dramatically.

The woman barked in laughter and she pinched his chubby cheek. She added an extra skewer free of charge and smiled at him fondly. “Now don’t go telling other customers, they’d be upset that I have favourites.” She whispered dramatically. 

Ling nodded seriously and he accepted the box of meat skewers. He handed her the ryo and tipped her generously. Ling turned on his heel and he waved at the elderly woman with a genuine smile. The five year old walked through the village and stuffed his face with the deliciously seasoned meat. He stared at a group of genin students completing a D-rank mission with sympathy. He watched them pick the weeds with their bare hands and his eyes widened in realization. 

“Oh shit.” He whispered in alarm.

SHIT!

He had his orientation with his genin team - His first meeting - Oh shit, shit, shit! The Heir gazed down at his watch and he squawked in alarm. He was late. Very very late. His first impression was down the drain (not that he cared too much). The Heir stuffed another skewer in his mouth and chewed hurriedly like an overeager squirrel. He turned on his heel and leaped to the rooftops. He rushed through the village, his box of meat held tightly in his arms. 

He was late but food was important - He would never discard perfectly good food. That was unacceptable. The five year old made it to the training grounds and he stared down from the rooftop of the building. He eyed the group of genin and shinobi training. He focused on their Qi, trying to locate his team. His eyes lit up in anticipation as he weaved through the multiple energies. 

He spotted a team of one Jounin instructor and two genin students - a small dark haired boy and a tall darkly clad kunoichi. He honed in on their Qi, feeling their emotions. The man looked familiar. His energy was grounded - firm - and his Qi fluttered with impatience and concern. Ling’s eyes widened and he bit down on his meat skewer as he surveyed the man.

“Oho, isn’t that…?” He grinned wide. 

The five year old surveyed the two genin - His teammates - and his eyes lit up in anticipation. Uchiha Itachi. He was small and pale with jet black hair, cropped to his chin. - His core was warm. He was standing straight and his energy fluttered in nerves - heavy with thick apprehension. Interesting. 

The kunoichi was a whole head taller than Itachi. She appeared to be twelve - the expected age of most genin. Her energy was heavier than the rest. Ling frowned, feeling a number of life signatures pulsing around her body. The energies were tiny, hidden underneath all her layered clothing. Huh insects? Interesting. 

Ling pulled his last skewer out of the box and he suppressed his chakra completely. He made his way to the back of the training grounds and he chewed through his meat, creeping towards his team. He listened in as his sensei spoke with a low drawl. 

“-because one of us decided to be late we will begin-” 

Ling pouted in offence. Starting without him? Oh how inconsiderate. The five year old shunshined directly to the tree and he hung upside down from the branch. He heard a startled gasp from the kunoichi and he stared down at his sensei with a beaming smile. He bit down on another piece of beef and waved cheekily to the Jounin as he stuffed his face.

“Yo! Genma-san, it’s been a while.” He spoke, swinging back and forth from his spot.

Genma arched an eyebrow and eyed his meat skewer with an unimpressed gaze. 

“You’re late,” he drawled. 

Ling shrugged. “Eh, it’s just a few minutes.”

“One hour and seven minutes.” Genma deadpanned. 

Ling blinked owlishly. “Eh? You see I woke up and I found out my dog died and I had to bury him and I held a burial ceremony as per our customs. You see, the Hyugas have these very long chants for their dead animals and I must follow our traditions. Neji was such a good boy, I had him for two whole years, he deserved my best chant.” He sniffed his nose and bit down on his skewer with a mournful gaze. 

Genma gazed at him silently.

“I’m… sorry for your loss,” a soft voice spoke.

Ling blinked in surprise and he gazed down at the speaker in shock. Uchiha Itachi. Oho? He was sincere. He smiled and waved him off. 

“It’s fine, he lived a good life.” Ling leapt off the branch and turned to the Jounin. “Now, introductions?” 

“Would you stop eating?” Genma spoke in an exasperated tone. 

Ling stared down at his meat skewer mournfully. He stared up at his sensei with wide eyes and lifted his skewer, biting into the beef with an innocent look. Genma sighed and ran a hand through his brown locks. He looked upwards and muttered a solemn prayer for patience. The Jounin turned to his three students and he pulled his body away from the tree.

“Alright, let’s do introductions. I’m your Jounin sensei, Shiranui Genma. I specialize in poisons, infiltration and assassination. I like tea, gardening and going to the pub. I dislike people who break their promises and I hate messes. Keep it clean and we won’t have a problem. That’s it really. My ambitions are to get you three to the Chuunin Exams in one piece. I’m your sensei so you can come to me for things related to missions and things outside the missions perimeters. Now, let’s see, you go next.” He pointed to the genin to his right.

Uchiha Itachi nodded curtly. “I am Uchiha Itachi. I like tea and dango and my little brother Sasuke.” 

Ling listened. Itachi’s Qi grew significantly warmer at the thought of his little brother. His energy fluttered with familial warmth and affection. 

“I dislike war. My ambition… is to lead my clan as the heir and protect my brother.”

His energy dimmed significantly and his Qi pulsed with insecurity at the mention of his clan duties. His determination was iron and solid as he shared his will to protect his brother. 

“Aburame Maki. I like hot places and quiet places. I dislike cold places and loud noises. My ambitions are to work for the archival department where I can be at peace and in silence.” 

Ling bit back a smile. He liked her. She was straight to the point and had a no-nonsense demeanour similar to his father. He could see the both of them conversing over tea with rigid faces and clipped sentences. 

The students turned to him. His sensei arched an eyebrow expectantly. Ling felt his fellow genins’ curiosity. Itachi stared at him with a detached expression but his energy fluttered in interest. Maki was the same - no emotions and no reactions on the outside. What a joy. He was teammates with two stiff children who did not crack a single smile. Ling’s eyes lit up - He loved challenges - and he stepped forward eagerly. He saluted the group cheekily and smirked.

“Hyuga Ichiro. The glorified heir of the Hyuga Clan. I like lots of things, mostly food and napping. I can eat a lot.” He sniggered. It was an understatement. He could lead restaurants to bankruptcy with how much he ate. “Oh and I adore my little Ne-chan, I adore the kid. I don’t dislike a lot.” He scrunched his nose in thought. 

“Uncooked meat is gross and hmm…that’s it really. Ah, ambitions let’s see. Hmm…to teach my Ne-chan everything I know and to pass on my wisdom to my protege. And to eat all types of different cuisines. That’s me!” He chirped with a genuine smile.

His teammates Qi flickered in surprise and relief. Ling bit back an amused chuckle at their expense. He knew they were expecting a stuck up and arrogant teammate. Hyugas were not sociable and they hardly smiled. He was defying all expectations as a friendly and genial Heir. 

Genma smirked. “A very distinct group, it’ll make things interesting.”

Ling smiled. 

Itachi nodded. 

Maki crossed her arms over her chest. 

“Now,” Genma began as he took out a storage scroll. He took a seat on the ground and moved his hand over the scroll, taking out three sheets of paper. “I want to know all your elements so we can create a training regime that suits all your diverse styles. We will take on D-missions for a while before we begin with outside missions.”

The children sat on the grass in front of him. Ling accepted his paper and channeled his chakra over the sheet. He turned to his teammates and watched as they did the same. Genma nodded and accepted the papers back. He stared at the results for a reflective moment.

“Huh, Ichiro, your affinity is air. That’s rare in Konoha.”

Ling nodded. 

“Maki, your affinity is earth. I also have earth as my primary element.” Genma drawled around his senbon blade. 

“Itachi, fire, as expected. Uchihas always have fire as their primary element.”

Itachi nodded.

Genma stared at the papers. “Air, earth and fire. Interesting. All right, every one up. Start stretching, we are going to run a test first and then we’ll carry out individual spars.” The Jounin stood up and put the papers away, tucking them into his vest.

“I have each of your chakra papers. Your task is to retrieve all three of them. They are all in the same pocket, right here.” He tapped a hand against his chest. “You can use anything in your arsenal, work alone or together, it's up to you. We begin… Now.”

The three students leaped backwards, putting space between them and their sensei. Genma waited with a neutral gaze and he leaned back against the tree. Ling stared at the Jounin with interest. His Qi was fluttering with mixed emotions - There was a feeling of purpose, of intention. This was not a simple task. There was a hidden layer to it. 

“Itachi-san, Maki-san, I don’t think we should charge in cluelessly.” Ling intoned quietly.

Itachi paused and he turned to him with curious eyes. 

Maki inclined her head to the side. “Elaborate Hyuga.”

Ling smiled. “I think it’d be a good idea to work together,” he explained. “We all have different abilities and it would be faster, don’t you think?”

Itachi’s Qi flickered with hesitation. Ling suppressed a smile. Ah, the Uchiha Heir was not one for teamwork. It was another challenge to undertake, he needed to fix the genin’s sense of teamwork. Ling worked well in teams. He had been backed up by Lan Fan and Fu for his entire life. He had worked with the alchemist brothers to take on the homunculus. He even worked alongside Greed on the Promised Day before he succumbed to his death. He was a team player. He was stronger united than he was alone.

Maki’s energy fluttered with consideration. She weighed her odds and nodded her acceptance. 

“Fine,” she spoke curtly. “What is the plan?”

“Hmm, I say our dear sensei is not expecting us to collaborate.” Ling commented. “We could pretend to go against each other and then when he’d least expect it, one of us retrieves the sheets for the rest of the team. Itachi-san, you can be the one to grab the papers when sensei is distracted.”

Itachi looked towards the Jounin. “Sensei is experienced. How do we distract him?”

Ling smirked sharply. “Oh I know just the thing. Let this young kouhai take care of the distraction.”

“Alright.” Maki nodded. “Ichiro, you will provide the distraction. Itachi, you are on retrieval.  For now, I think we should all charge simultaneously and Itachi can use the window of opportunity when it presents itself.”

The boys nodded. 

“On the count of 3,” Maki ordered.

“1-”

“2-”

“3!”

The genin lunged forward. They moved fast - the clan heirs led the charge, throwing punches and kicks towards the Jounin. Genma parried their hits, blocking their attacks. Itachi whipped out his shuriken blades and he threw it with expert accuracy. Ling grinned as Genma substituted his body with a log. He was gone from sight but his energy remained close. He could feel it coming towards him. The blades embedded into the wood and Genma appeared behind Ling. The genin ducked and evaded the kick to his head. 

Ling kicked out his leg, missing his sensei’s side. Genma grabbed his ankle and threw him across the field. Ling whooped as he was sent flying. He twisted in the air and landed on the tree trunk. 

He watched as Itachi rushed in with his kunai blades. The little brat was fast and impressive. Maki was crouched down on the ground, peering ahead with her dark glasses. She smirked and shot out her hand in a silent command. Ling watched as Genma blocked Itachi’s blades with a single kunai. 

The Jounin grunted as he saw the numerous insects climbing onto his sandalled feet. He shook his feet and leapt away, taking care to not squash the colony of bugs. Itachi chased after his sensei, moving his hands in a fast seal. He took a large inhale - his cherubic cheeks puffed up - and he blew a large surge of fire. 

“Wow.” Ling breathed excitedly. “So cool! Go Itachi-senpai! Burn him!” 

Genma glared at him in offence and Ling grinned back unapologetically. The Jounin substituted his body and rushed towards the Uchiha Heir. Itachi readied himself and took a defensive stance. They traded rapid blows, each moving with intensive speed. Ling moved his hands into his pocket and pulled out his smoke projectile. 

It was only a matter of time before his creations came to light. It was his original work. He paraded his smoke inventions as a hidden jutsu. The village could not demand his work without his father’s approval. Demanding the knowledge of a clan heir’s jutsu was unheard of. Unprecedented.

The five year old snickered and he unclasped the hook. He counted down the seconds and he shunshined to the tree above his sensei. He hid the clasp in his cast and he threw his body downwards from the tree, joining the fight. He ran his hand through a fake seal - Kemuri no jutsu - and his smoke screen seeped all around him. 

Ling sniggered as he heard the sharp inhale of disbelief followed by the feeling of anger and suspicion. Ohoho, Genma had caught on. He felt the smugness resonate through Itachi’s Qi and he grinned knowingly. 

They had won. 

Chapter Text

Chapter Eight

The boy leaped soundlessly onto the rooftop and he looked downwards into the dark alleyway. He eyed the body of stray cats with dark eyes and displeasure ran through his small frame as he didn’t find his target. He pressed a small hand to his earpiece and relayed his non-success. His teammate echoed his response - no luck on her end. Itachi waited for their third teammate’s response and the silence grew. 

The Hyuuga Heir was not responding to their inquiries. Itachi frowned minutely. His teammate was an anomaly. He had no idea what to make of him. He was very energetic, with expressive features and was easily distracted from their missions by frivolous things - like food. Itachi secretly cherished dango greatly but he never let his desires affect his missions. Outou-sama would have been very disappointed. 

Maki’s impatient and dry voice echoed in his ear and he nodded. 

Itachi ran across the rooftop, searching the streets. Their mission objective was to find the notorious cat. The Uchiha bit back his frustration. His workload had increased. He now had to not only find the cat but his teammate as well. 

He heard the laughter before he saw him. Itachi slowed his gait as he neared the public park, watching the scene unfold in front of him. 

His teammate was running from the cat in circles, laughing as the cat chased anxiously behind him. Ichiro had a dried fish in his hand and he was playing with the cat. Itachi stepped forward, intercepting the boy’s play. He plucked the unsuspecting cat, holding it tightly in his hands. The cat hissed and his teammate paused - expression brightening at the sight of him.

“Senpai!” He greeted, making his way over. 

“You want?” He asked, raising the dried fish in the air.

Itachi blinked.

He was hardly greeted with such radiant brightness. It made him feel strange. It wasn’t an unwelcome feeling - it was nice. Like being with Shisui and getting dango. No one had brightened up at the sight of him, outside of his immediate family. His peers always treated him with envy and scorn. 

Ichiro was always happy to see him. 

Itachi didn’t understand.

The boy continued staring at him, pale eyes blinking expectantly. Ah. Itachi shook his head, refusing the dried seafood. The boy frowned - small face growing pinched - before he shrugged and stuffed the fish in his mouth, consuming it in one bite. 

“Hwehh isshh Maakkehhh-seeshh?”

Itachi blinked. 

His eyes widened a small fraction. He worked hard to keep his expression polite as his teammate tilted his head, staring at him in inquiry as he stuffed his face with more dried fish, cheeks puffed. 

Where was he getting it from? 

The boy opened his weapon’s pouch and pulled out another snack and he began eating, smirking at the struggling and yowling cat. Itachi felt his fingers twitch as he eyed the weapon’s pouch. Weapons and food shouldn’t mix. He closed his fist, watching as Ichiro pulled out another snack from his pant pockets.

“We need to return the cat,” Itachi spoke in a low tone.

“Hrmmfff.”

Itachi felt his eyelid twitch. 

He breathed slowly and nodded curtly, turning on his heel. 

“Seeshhwemmmpaiiii!” 

He moved faster, small feet rushing further ahead. 

Aburame Maki prided herself in being in absolute control of all her faculties. She was from a renowned clan that were notorious for hiding their emotions. It was a craft they learned as children - one they worked hard to cultivate. She was patient. She was clinical and straightforward. She liked a few things and disliked plenty of things. 

Her life was very organized. She knew what she wanted. She was not often confused or lost.

But lately, she found herself utterly perplexed by her uncouth and paradoxical teammate. 

Hyuuga Ichiro was an enigma. 

He was notoriously late to everything. He took nothing seriously and yet he pulled his weight with great efficiency. He was completely unreliable and yet he was very reliable. She trusted him to cover her back in training but she did not trust him with her bento box. 

Sensei had instructed them to leave their bento boxes and belongings at the edge of the training grounds by the trees before they headed into the Hashirama woods to practice their training regime. 

They had all split up with different tasks to accomplish. Her Uchiha teammate and Jounin sensei had returned to the meeting spot to find a napping Ichiro and five empty bento boxes. The boy had eaten all their packed lunches! Including his own! She was very confused. She had no idea how to react. 

She had wanted to show her amusement as she watched as her stoic Uchiha partner’s eyelid twitched as he saw his dango treats emptied out, with only a drop of syrup remaining. She wanted to move back a few steps as she heard her sensei grind his teeth in irritation. She had wanted to release her colony of bugs on her unsuspecting teammate when he smacked his lips in and patted his bloated stomach in his sleep. 

She had underwent multiple emotions in the span of one minute at that singular moment. 

Hyuuga Ichiro was an enigma. 

He was confusing. 

He was disorderly. 

He was chaotic. 

Aburame Maki hated confusion. 

She hated disorder. 

She hated chaos. 

And Hyuuga Ichiro embodied them all. Yet she couldn’t find it in herself to hate on the cheeky boy with laughter in his eyes and a mischievous curl to his lips. 

When Aburames were presented with a puzzle, they cracked it. When they were given a problem, they solved it. They were logicians and she would crack the idiosyncrasies of her teammate’s character. 

Maki sighed at the thought. 

It felt like an insurmountable task.  

Shirunai Genma was not having a good day. His problem child was going to be the death of him. Not only was he late everyday with varying excuses, he had disappeared completley for the entirety of the day with no one the wiser. 

Genma rubbed his eyes and he stared imploringly at the shinobi standing across from him. 

“Maa, what does this have to do with me?” The nin asked.

Genma scowled. 

“I’m desperate and I’m not about to tell his father that I lost his precious heir and only child.”

“It’s only been a day,” Kakashi commented tiredly. 

“Exactly, that’s one day too long. Come on, I’ll owe you for this.”

Kakashi’s eye gleamed in interest. 

He smiled in fake sympathy and patted him on the arm.

“I accept.”

The nin summoned his small dog and offered the pug the piece of fabric. The dog looked as tired as his summoner and he turned on his heel, looping in circles and circles around Konoha for over an hour. Genma’s scowl deepened with each passing loop. They were going in endless circles! Kakashi began to grow concerned as Pakkun circled yet again. The pug was growing angry and frustrated at the random loops. 

It made no sense!

The pug growled - moving faster and faster until they were all running in circles aimlessly. Genma bit back a frustrated scream as the Green Beast joined them - hollering in excitement about his desire to join their new training regime. Genma felt comforted by Kakashi’s dampening mood. His misery comforted him. He felt a kindred relation in it. 

The trio ran around in circles, chasing after a pug who looped searching for a fleeting scent. 

The summons let out a victorious bark as he stopped in front of a large manmade hole. Genma frowned, eyeing the construction zone in concern. The pug pointed a paw down at the large hole - There! - Genma reached into the darkness. 

It was civilian made and his hand made contact with warm skin. He caught a small limb and pulled a motionless body out of the hole. He stared down at the small figure, heart hammering in his chest.

Ichiro wasn’t moving.

Genma closed his eyes in despair. 

The boy was dead and Hizashi-san and Hiashi-san would both kill him ten times over! 

Kakashi let out a disbelieving laugh.

“He’s sleeping.”

Genma’s eyes shot open and he stared at the small child in desperate hope. Ichiro was messy with dirt on his clothes and face but he was unharmed, not a single scratch on his body. He was sleeping peacefully in a civilian dug hole in a construction zone, small chest rising and falling in even breaths. 

His expression was serene and peaceful.

Genma stared in disbelief as his brain short circuited. 

…

Gai released a bark of laughter, throwing his head back.

“I like his youthful energy!”

Genma released a heavy sigh and he gently picked up the sleeping boy mindful of his cast. The kid murmured in his sleep, smacking his lips and he grabbed his vest with pale mud-crusted hands. His face rested on his shoulder as he continued sleeping comfortably. 

Small arms wrapped around the Jounin’s neck and the Hyuuga child clung to him in his sleep. Genma winced as the boy bit down on him, murmuring about yakiniku as he drooled and gnawed on his shoulder simultaneously. 

“I never want to become a Jounin sensei.” Kakashi whispered; his voice held an inkling of fear.

“Nonsense!” Gai yelled exuberantly. “This beautiful scene has inspired me! I shall endeavour to become a jounin sensei!” 

Genma scowled as he moved out of the construction zone with his arms full of his sleeping student.

Kami, he hated kids. 

Chapter Text

Chapter Nine

“Ne-chan!” 

The childish voice broke through the quiet, followed by the slamming of the sliding wooden door. Hyuga Ichiro –Ling– entered the toddler’s room with a wide grin, hopping over to his favorite person. He waved at his uncle, smiling at his favorite adult as he grabbed the toddler who raised his tiny arms up in greeting.

He picked him up and twirled on his feet, turning to his uncle with an impish grin.

“Uncle, uncle. Can I take Ne-chan out on a walk?” 

“Not for too long Waka-sama.”

Ling nodded, rushing out, carrying his cousin in his arms. He smiled softly, listening to the infantile babbles, nodding here and there, adding his own commentary. He walked through the village, pointing out favorite spots. He made his way to the park, waving at the children who lit up at his sight.

“Ichiro-san!” The group yelled, each of them, hopping off the slides and swings, rushing towards him.

Ling set his cousin on the ground, hands on his hips as he looked at the civilian children of various ages. The group consisted of children, boys and girls between toddlers to preteens and a few odd teenagers who supervised the younger ones.  

“Friends! Ready to meet my wonderful protege?”   

He knelt down, steadying his cousin who looked ahead curiously with big eyes. 

“This is Hyuga Neji.”

Neji gazed at the numerous children, eyes growing wide. The children waved, a few younger ones stepped forward. The toddler sat on the grass, staring at the number of people with awe. Ling laughed, turning to the older children, letting his younger brother bond with the civilian children.

“Want to play?”

The teens smirked, exchanging glances. “Winner buys dinner!” 

Ling laughed and walked to the tree, closing his eyes as he began counting out loud. He kept an eye out for his cousin’s Qi and the qi of other children. His cousin’s Qi was soft and fluttering in excitement. Ling smiled at the thought. Neji spent most of his time indoors, being exceptionally young. He needed to socialize and spend time with other children. He refused to have his interactions limited to shinobi clan children. 

The village was a mixed village. Civilians were more than half the population and Ling had every intention to get to know them. 

The boy finished his counting and opened his eyes. He grinned and rushed to find the hiding children.

Ling wiped the mud off his cousin’s face with a smile. He picked up the messy child and walked through the busy streets. He sensed out the Qi around him, eyes widening in excitement at the familiar energy. He looked down at his cousin contemplatively and wondered on his next course of action. 

Why not? 

He picked up his pace, weaving through the bodies and made his way to the warm energy.

He frowned lightly, sensing the discomfort coming in small waves. Ling broke through the crowd, eyeing the scene in concern. He surveyed the villagers eyeing the small family doing their shopping. A few people stood by, whispering quietly, eyes shifting towards the family of three. Ling sensed the air of anxiety in the crowd. People were not subtle as they shopped around them.

Ling broke through a gossiping pair, elbowing the men roughly. 

“Hey brat!” One yelled, turning to him.

Ling smiled up at him and the man froze, expression paling as he saw his face. Ling ignored him and rushed forward to the cart of desserts.

“SENPAI!” He greeted loudly, cutting through the crowd, waiting their turn to buy the dessert.

Uchiha Itachi looked away from the woman he spoke to and turned to him, expression showing his surprise before it became blank. Ling beamed at him, rushing forward, eyes taking in the beautiful woman who looked like a carbon copy of his teammate and the small child held in her arms. 

“Ichiro-san.” Itachi greeted cordially.

Ling smiled brightly. “Hi! How’re you doing? Fancy seeing you here! Did you eat dinner? I’m hungry!”

Itachi blinked at the onslaught of words. He took a moment to respond. 

“I am well. I did not eat dinner.”

Ling beamed at the dry response, looking up at the woman curiously who watched the exchange with laughter in her eyes. 

“Hi!” 

“Hello.” She said smiling. “You must be Ichiro. I heard a lot about you. I am Itachi’s mother, Uchiha Mikoto.”

“Hi Mikoto-san. I am Hyuga Ichiro. This is my little brother, Neji.” He held up his cousin, smiling up at the woman sweetly. 

Adults often liked him. He listened to her Qi intentionally and he kept his smile in place. Her energy was warm but it felt deliberate, with hues of intention. Calculation. She eyed him and his cousin, body language soft and non-threatening. She knelt down, pulling out a handkerchief, rubbing the mud gently on his cousin’s face.

“Would you like to join us for dinner?” She asked softly.

Ling smiled. “I’d love that!”

He ran the calculations in his head. He was out much later than planned. His uncle would worry. 

“One moment.” He passed his cousin to a startled Itachi, hands running through a quick seal. He smiled at his clone, ordering him back to the Hyuga Compound. 

“Tell uncle I’m grabbing dinner outside with Ne-chan.”

The clone saluted him cheekily and took off. Ling turned to his teammate and stifled a laugh, watching Itachi hold the child with a nervous disposition. It was not everyday where people handed their siblings into the arms of an unsuspecting Uchiha. Ling turned to his teammate’s mother, smiling up at her. His arms could take a rest from carrying the little bundle. 

“Lead the way Mikoto-sama.”

The woman eyed the little toddler in her son’s arms. Neji tugged on Itachi’s hair warbling at him in nonsensical toddler talk. Itachi continued holding him carefully, eyeing his teammate in confusion. Ling ignored his discomfort and chatted about his favorite dishes as the crowd parted for them, watching in confusion as they walked together as an unlikely group.

Ling stared up at the Uchiha Clan compound, eyeing the large gate. It was positioned at the edge of the village, away and secluded from the rest of the clans. Oh shoot. He paused, footsteps faltering before the entrance. He forgot to inform his father. He had no idea if he was breaking some sort of ground rules but Itachi was his teammate. Oh well. He shrugged inwardly and stepped into the compound, steps eager and expression content. 

Uchiha Itachi stared at the small toddler in his arms. He held his small warm body securely in his hold, moving carefully as his teammate rattled happily to his mother. The little toddler was a pale quiet Hyuga child – his teammate’s brother(?) – eyes big and wide, an expressive lilac. Different from his teammate who often went around with crescent-shaped eyes. 

The compound activity stilled minutely. Clan members gazed at them inconspicuously. Individuals continued their activities but with an air of curiosity. A tug on his hair drew his gaze to the little boy in his arms. He held a strand of his hair between his toddler fingers, putting it in his mouth. 

Itachi frowned.

“Ne ne senpai!” Ichiro slid next to him, smile bright. (Why was he always smiling?) “Favorite dessert? So… next time I visit I won’t come empty-handed. I feel like a terribly ill-mannered guest today!”

Next time?

Itachi blinked slowly, expression carefully neutral as his heart thumped a startled beat. Ichiro wanted to hang out with him. He turned to him, unsure. No one had ever sought his company willingly before, aside from his cousin (and occasionally Izumi). He stared at the younger boy who continued smiling, body language carefree. 

What did Ichiro want? 

Teammates did not visit each other's homes. No one outside the Uchiha clan members ever visited them. Shisui did not have his teammates over when he had his own genin team. Was there another reason? 

He had to ask Shisui. 

Shisui would know more.

His teammate kept gazing at him, smiling expectantly. It would be rude not to respond. 

“Dango.” He answered quietly.

Ichiro beamed. “Oh! I love dango! Next time, if I don’t eat it all on the way, I’ll be sure to bring some!”

He clapped his small hands together in excitement, a spring in his step, as he rushed ahead to join his mother, asking the older woman her favorite dessert. His mother indulged the child with a smile, speaking softly about different desserts she and her family enjoyed. Ichiro nodded, appearing curious and intrigued. 

Itachi watched the scene unfold in utter confusion.

Why did Ichiro care…?

“Bah!”

He blinked down at the toddler –Neji– and he smiled lightly. The boy tugged on his hair, demanding his attention. The group arrived at the Uchiha home. Itachi followed his mother as she deposited Sasuke in an arrangement of pillows and soft cushions. He followed her example, lowering the other toddler to join his brother. 

“Why don’t you give your friend a tour?” His mother spoke softly.

Itachi nodded. He turned to his teammate who nodded eagerly. Itachi swallowed his nerves. It felt strange having someone who was not family in his home. It was strange but he did not hate it. It was unfamiliar. He turned on his heel stiffly, showing his teammate the new Uchiha home. 

The five year old picked up the sleeping toddler in his careful hold, mindful of the cast on his arm. He turned to the small family and gave a respectful bow. Gratitude thrummed through his body as he bid them a restful evening.

“Thank you for having me!”

“Itachi, please walk him out.”

Ling turned to his teammate with a smile. He waited on his teammate as he slipped on his sandals. Itachi led him through the compound, disposition quiet. His Qi fluttered in hesitancy. Ling hummed lightly under his breath, hand patting the sleeping boy in his arms. He hoped his uncle would not mind that he spent much longer outside than he intended. 

“We’re here.” Itachi spoke, stopping at the compound gates. He turned to face him, lingering in his spot. 

Itachi’s expression was carefully empty. His internal energy continued to thrum in conflict. Ling smiled. He would not push him. He had no issue waiting until his teammate felt comfortable enough to share what was on his mind. He grinned brightly.

“Thank you for dinner senpai!”

He stepped through the gates, turning back to wave. Itachi raised his hand hesitantly, waving back, energy confused. The sun sank in the horizon and the five year old rushed away, steps moving quickly. He glanced back, seeing his teammate disappear back into the compound. Ling paused, gazing around curiously. 

The Uchiha Compound was very far from everything.

Isolated.

It was very quiet.

“Bah!”

Ling startled from his thoughts at the sound. He turned to his cousin who stared at him wide awake. He laughed brightly and pinched Neji’s chubby cheeks as the boy swatted his face intentionally. He gave the small toddler a gentle squeeze, laughing as his cousin’s energy fluttered in untouched happiness and bright child-like joy.

“I hear you Ne-chan!” He smiled. “Let’s go home!”

He turned on his heel and began his trek home.

Chapter Text

Chapter Ten

Shiranui Genma was having a perfectly pleasant day and it made him feel suspicious. Pleasant days were hard to come by after he had taken on the mantle of Jounin sensei. It was a hard life. The young man made his way through the busy crowds, cutting through the civilian bodies expertly. He would take to the rooftops but he had no desire to run into any of his colleagues.

It was his day off.

He needed the silence.

He deserved the silence.

The Jounin made his way to the thicket of trees, far at the edge of the village. His lips lifted upwards in amusement as he recalled the fateful encounter many months back with his best friends. The smoke. The brat. Hayate continued to fall into a panicked coughing fit every time he reminisced over drinks. Genma chuckled under his breath at the memory, moving silently through the foliage. 

He heard the familiar childish voice and he paused in his steps, feeling strangely like one of the damned. He wondered if he had offended a spirit in his past life. Why was he owed so much suffering in this life? It was beyond his understanding. The voice picked up in volume. It was close by. 

Ah, no.

It was his day off!

He should’ve known these parts of the woods would be cursed with gremlin children. He turned around, pausing as he heard another younger voice, unfamiliar and high-pitched. Were there more? His curiosity peaked. He shunshined onto the branch and took in the sight on the ground below a thick tree. There sat his nightmare child with a much younger child – a toddler – alone in the woods, both seated on the ground in the shade with an assortment of objects around them.

Genma watched the scene in silence as the toddler babbled incoherently, clearly a Hyuga child by his features. His eyes narrowed at his student, eyeing the assembled parts in his small hand. He tsked under his breath. The brat was making more smoke weaponry, struggling with his one good arm. The other was still held in a cast. 

The Jounin raised his eyes to the heavens, beeching silently. It was not his problem. He should report the brat. He was a menace and the Hokage was definitely still (passively) on the look-out for the culprit for the smoke bombs around the village. Why had he not reported him? In the chaos of it all, he had forgotten. Yes. That was the only reason. He had been too busy. 

Traitor, his mind whispered silently. 

The Jounin ran a hand through his hair, grinding onto his senbon in frustration. 

He should leave. He would see the brat tomorrow, bright and early, for his lesson with his fellow peers. He should report him. Many days had turned into months but he remained shackled by the debt. The promise he had his best friends made that fateful encounter rendered him unable to report the brat. Yes. That was the only reason. He had his hands tied. 

Genma watched as Ichiro winced, small finger cutting on the sharp material as he tried to maneuver his creation-making with one shaky hand. The five year old pouted at his fingers as the blood dropped, then he proceeded to smile brightly and laugh at his fellow companion who yelled a concerned BAH! in alarm. 

“I do not care.” Genma whispered quietly to the skies.

The Jounin leaped soundlessly from the branch and landed in front of his troublesome student. 

“Oi brat.” He greeted tiredly. 

Ichiro looked up at him and his expression brightened – happy and genuine – Genma blinked at the sight, feeling nauseous. The boy held out a bleeding hand to him unbothered as he waved excitedly at him, small body thrumming with unabashed friendliness. Genma was not accustomed to such brightness. It hurt his eyes. He blinked rapidly as the boy leaned forward to greeting. 

“Sensei!”

The child was happy to see him. He hated it. The toddler stared up at him, eyes wide in awe, unblinking. He pointed a finger at him BAH! Damn him. He was cute one. Genma frowned, staring down at the unblinking toddler.

“That is not my name, kid.”

The toddler blinked at him, eyes wide and unblinking, finger poised in the air accusingly. Genma stared back. The silence continued. The birds chirped in the distance and the pair continued their silent battle, lavender and brown eyes locked together unblinkingly. 

Ichiro sneezed. 

The Jounin sighed, gazing away from the toddler. He took a seat on the grass, across from the two children. He gripped his student’s wrist carefully, tsking under his breath at the small injury.

“You should be more careful.” He frowned, performing a quick healing jutsu. 

“Bah!” 

The toddler squealed in excitement and moved into his space, staring in awe at the green healing light. Ichiro laughed, eyes crinkled, as he waved his latest creation proudly. Illegal counterbond that should be reported to the Hokage.  

“I made more!” He shared excitedly. 

Genma sighed tiredly, lowering his student’s wrist gently. He gazed around the quiet forest. He eyed the assortment of objects on the grass. He closed his eyes and exhaled tiredly. 

“I’ve seen nothing.” He commented, resting against the trunk of the tree. 

Ichiro chuckled and turned his attention to his young companion. Genma ignored the shuffling of the small body close to him. The toddler was a curious one. He felt tiny hands grip his knee as the chatter continued around him. Ichiro narrated his latest explorations around the village – more manholes were discovered – They were the perfect napping spot apparently (Kami help him). 

Genma  stared up at the sky. His senbon was wedged in-between his lips as he started to count the clouds above him. 

It was his day off. 

The young boy lowered his cup, turning to the window with a confused gaze. His dark eyes fell on the clock on the wall and his frown deepened. He walked to his window, pushing the wooden frames apart. 

He blinked in surprise at the unexpected sight.

“Itachi?”

His cousin stood outside his window in the dark, staring up at him with unblinking eyes.

“Uh… is everything okay?”

Itachi shook his head slowly, expression downtrodden. 

Uchiha Shisui stared back at him in concern. He gazed around him briefly. No one was in sight. He leapt out the window soundlessly, landing on his bare feet. The grass tickled his toes and he blinked down at his best friend. It was late at night and this was an unexpected visit. He rested a hand on Itachi’s shoulder as the younger Uchiha continued to frown, expression troubled.

It was unlike him to act this way. 

“Come inside.” Shisui said softly, leading him in through the open window. 

The pair entered the kitchen. Shisui busied himself, preparing a soothing cup of tea. He glanced over his shoulder as his cousin sat quiet, staring off into space. 

“Ryo for your thoughts?” He asked lightly, watching the tea as it brewed slowly. 

Itachi looked up at him, eyes wide in confusion. Shisui smiled helplessly at the sight. Many of their clan members whispered that his cousin was too unexpressive for a young child but Shisui did not see it. Itachi carried many micro-expressions on his small face. 

“It’s… unimportant.” He said quietly.

Shisui huffed, setting the cup of tea in front of the younger boy. He sat across from him, giving the younger boy his undivided attention.

“It isn’t nothing if it's keeping you up.” He said lightly, expression open and encouraging. 

He responded quietly, words too soft for Shisui to hear. The older nin frowned, staring at the young genin. Itachi gazed into his tea, gripping his cup tightly with smaller hands.

“Your teammates… did they… ever come over to your home?”

Shisui felt his breath hitch at the question. It was a long long time since he thought of his teammates. He tried his hardest not to. It had hurt too much to think about, especially when he let it happen. The death was on his hands. He shook his head slowly, smile dimming.

“No. We…” He searched for the words that evaded him. “...we weren’t close.” 

I didn’t allow us to be – His mind condemned him – I was too envious. 

“Why do you ask?”

Itachi fell quiet.

“My teammate… He confuses me.”

Shisui chuckled, expression brightening. “And is that why you’re here past midnight?”

Itachi’s eyelid twitched. Shisui pressed a hand to his mouth, holding back his laughter. 

“He came over.”

Shisui tilted his head to the side. Messy curls fell into his eyes. He huffed, blowing them out of his face. They were getting long. He tugged on his long hair, frowning at the sight. His mother used to cut his hair for him but she was gone. He shook his head, hyper-focusing on the boy who sat across from him.

“Who?” He asked quietly. 

“Ichiro.”

Shisui blinked.

“Ichiro?” He repeated.

“Ichiro.” Itachi nodded.

Shisui stared at him. 

Itachi stared back, expression lost. 

Shisui began to frown, brows furrowing in confusion. 

“Who is Ichiro?” 

Itachi stared at him, face turning expressive. He looked offended. Shisui felt a smile spread on his lips. He leaned forward, body language eager. His eyes sparkled in delight. There was a story there and he knew it. He would pry it out of his best friend’s hands.

He loved a good story.

He needed a good story (especially with all the whispers in the dark; whispers his younger cousin did not understand). He looked at the younger boy who was unaware of the darkness that began to permeate within their clan, within the village. He kept his gaze focused, eyes taking in his cousin’s childish features. Itachi was unaware of the infestation, of the mold that began to spread, of the ruin that was encroaching onto them, of the imposed isolation and silent damnation.

Shisui felt terribly alone.

He gripped his cup of tea tightly, pressing a hand flat on the table to anchor himself in the present, in this moment, where his best friend came to him, plagued by a sleepless night as his mind was occupied for the first time with the thought of another person. He could not help but smile, feeling less alone, and a little lighter. 

Itachi was experiencing his first blossoms of friendship. 

It gave him hope.

He held his smile firmly in place and for once, it did not feel theatrical or forced.

“Tell me.” He demanded, smile widening. “About Ichiro.”