Chapter Text
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Itachi
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The cool compress over his eyes only did so much to dull the massive migraine that had become Itachi’s life. For the past nine years, his Sharingan had practically been activated during all his waking hours. Being declared a rogue ninja, infiltrating the most elite international terrorist group and partnering with a literal shark seemed good enough reason for him to be constantly on edge.
“Hey, are you well enough to assist?” Sasori’s deep, bored tone caught Itachi’s attention. He hadn’t even felt him approach. The puppet master felt his frail, human body was a burden that needed to be replaced with an immortal frame that would never age.
Itachi shifted aside the compress to peek at the crimson haired Sand shinobi. The spy master was only a few years older than Itachi. He’d pieced together that Sasori’s childhood had been just as riddled with grief as Itachi’s. It really was a small world though, their lives so interconnected.
Itachi’s closest friend after his beloved cousin Shisui, was Kakashi Hatake — the man who’s father, Sakumo Hatake, assassinated Sasori’s parents.
And then there was the monster that had cursed Itachi’s baby brother and led him astray from the Leaf. No one knew Orochimaru and understood his research better than Sasori— a genius scientist that enjoyed dabbling in poisons. There had to be a way to remove the cursed seal on Sasuke, Sasori was the one that could teach Itachi.
All Itachi had to do, was remove the man’s heart, store his body in a lab preserved in some chemical that resembled amniotic fluid, and place the heart inside the wooden body of a puppet. He could do that. Nothing was as hard as being barely thirteen and then ordered to wipe out your entire clan by your village leaders.
“Are you certain?” Itachi asked, sitting up and setting aside the compress entirely. He deactivated his sharingan— genjutsu didn’t work on Sasori anyway with his perfect chakra control.
“I won’t have to waste my time with the frailties of mortality — no more illness, no need to sleep, no need to eat,” Sasori pointed out. “I’ll be able to manipulate a hundred puppets, not just ten.” He angled his head to the side and then offered his hand to help Itachi stand. “No one else is competent nor trustworthy enough for me to ask,” he added softly.
Sasori was a terrifying opponent. He’d decimated an entire village single-handedly the year before. What sort of damage would he be capable of in an immortal body? The Akatsuki already had an immortal pair — Hidan and Kakuzu. How much harder would it be to protect Konoha and the Yondaime’s son after Sasori forsake his mortal coils?
Itachi snatched his familiar black cloak with the crimson clouds from the hook on the wall and shrugged his shoulders into it. He liked the way the collar hid his face. If he could just stay in the shadows, do his duty, and live just long enough to save Sasuke — then it would all be worth it. He could finally rest and join his lost family.
He took a deep, careful breath, grateful no coughing fit followed. Then Itachi followed after his senior Akatsuki member. After he helped Sasori transfer into his puppet body, then the Spy Master would teach him everything he knew about the cursed seal and how to remove it.
Itachi would just need to continue his facade — not let the Spy Master realize Itachi himself was a spy. Kisame may have been Itachi’s mission partner, but more often than not, the Mist swordsman felt more like his jailor. He had to remember, none of these people were his friends. Uchiha Itachi was a friendless, kin-slayer. His spirit died that terrible night under the blood moon and his body had slowly been dying ever since.
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OoO
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Sakura
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In the last three years, Sakura had improved by leaps and bounds — she’d trained under her hero— the first female Hokage and the woman that had revolutionized medical ninjutsu. She mastered the taijutsu forms that had been passed down through the kunoichi of the noble Senju clan. She’d been promoted to chunin two years ago at the respectable age of fourteen.
“Your apprenticeship with me is officially over, Sakura.” Godaime Tsunade Senju sat across from Sakura, elbows braced on her hokage desk, chin resting on her laced fingers. A stack of playing cards laid face down to the side. Their game had ended in another draw as Sakura once again manipulated the outcome to ensure her gambling addicted mentor lost interest.
“I’m eager to take missions again,” Sakura pointed out. Her assignments over the duration of her apprenticeship involved countless hours at the hospital performing surgery, accompanying the Hokage as part of her entourage at official diplomatic meetings, attending to the daimyo himself and the medical needs of his family. She was admittedly jealous whenever Ino would talk about some of the missions Team Ten completed. Her own teammates had been scattered to the wind — Sasuke defected, Naruto on his own special training in the distant mountains, and Kakashi back in Anbu.
“I will miss sparring with you at the end of a long day of dealing with paperwork and egotistical council members,” Tsunade mused, opening her desk drawer and taking out a bottle of top shelf sake and a couple of cups. She poured them each a drink. “This calls for celebration. This particular sake was a gift from the daimyo’s wife when I first took over this role.” She lifted her cup and Sakura tapped hers against it.
“Kanpai!” They chorused.
Sakura sipped at the potent amber liquid. “Strong,” she murmured, trying not to grimace. Alcohol was an acquired taste and while she enjoyed the mild light-headed feeling, she neutralized the effects of the alcohol by speeding up her liver’s metabolism. That she’d never had the misfortune of a hang-over was a benefit of her diligent training and need for perfection.
Tsunade drained her cup and tapped manicured fingers over the antique solid oak desk. “So, I’ve decided to put you in Anbu under your old captain.”
“You want me to work with Kakashi-sensei?” Sakura asked in disbelief. She’d seen her old jonin instructor in passing every couple of months, but they’d not really spoken to each other outside of casual greetings.
“He’ll be more Kakashi-senpai, or just Captain. I’ll let you two figure it out. You’ll work in a two-man cell. And when Naruto finishes his training with Jiraiya the three of you will form a team again.” Tsunade leaned back in her chair and sighed deeply.
Sakura twirled her very pink hair. “I’m not sure how incognito I’ll be with this hair.”
“Kakashi already sticks out like a sore thumb with that unruly mop of silver hair on his head and his infamous chidori,” Tsunade reasoned. She tilted back in her chair and peered up at the rafters. “Any suggestions, Genma?”
“A simple henge if you’re worried about it,” Genma said, jumping to the floor. “ You’ll mostly be in the shadows and if someone does see you — they won’t be around to remember you. And actually Hatake knows fuinjutsu — when he wears his mask he looks like a nondescript brunette of average height and average build.”
Tsunade waved him off and he abruptly disappeared back into the rafters.
“Fuinjutsu, huh?” Sakura was decent in the art. It came in handy with certain surgeries. She could certainly stand to improve in the skill. Maybe now that she had some understanding of her own abilities, Kakashi might actually be able to teach her something not entirely basic. “Master Tsunade, Anbu isn’t exactly an ambition of mine,” Sakura said quietly, staring at her reflection in the residual sake in her cup. “I’m not exactly stealthy.”
“Neither am I,” Tsunade said with a sigh. “So it’s not something I can teach you, but it is something you should learn. Do you still wish to bring back that wayward teammate of yours?”
Sakura thought back to her promise with Naruto. She thought back to Sasuke’s last words to her, his quiet thank you. She nodded. “Yes, Master Tsunade.” Kakashi’s words echoing in her mind — Those that abandon their friends are worst than scum. Sasuke was lost and in pain — she and Naruto would not abandon him. “Do you think I could read the file on Itachi Uchiha?”
Tsunade frowned. “Why?”
“He’s Sasuke’s target. And not many people can go toe-to-toe with Kakashi-sensei.” Sakura pursed her lips, remembering when both Kakashi and Sasuke had been placed in comas after an encounter with Itachi. “Why would he taunt Sasuke and Kakashi? It makes no sense, not when he slew his entire clan in cold blood.”
Tsunade opened the sake bottle and tipped it back, draining it. She wiped the back of her hand across her lips. “Unfortunately, his file is missing. I suspect after Master Sarutobi passed and before I returned, Danzo plucked that particular file.” She waved the empty bottle at Sakura. “Though your captain was on a team with him — so he could tell you more than anyone else in the village.”
Great, the notoriously tight-lipped Kakashi Hatake held all the answers.
Half an hour later, Sakura waited on the roof of the Hokage tower. Tsunade had summoned Kakashi to meet Sakura there. And knowing Kakashi, she’d end up waiting much longer than half an hour. She regretted not having at least a book or something to occupy her time. So, she laid back and stared at the passing clouds of the early afternoon sky. Her mind wandered, trying to imagine what this next step in her shinobi career would be like. Training under the jonin sensei that treated her more like a pet kitty than a valuable ally.
Speak of the devil. “Yo,” Kakashi greeted, flash-stepping onto the roof and settling next to Sakura. “I hear we’re teammates.” He laid flat on his back, arms tucked behind his head.
“Are you going to make me do the Bell test again or something?” Sakura asked, looking over at him, taking in the familiar silver hair, visible dark half-lidded eye, and black mask.
“Hm, that doesn’t really work since we’ll be a team of two,” Kakashi murmured. “We’ll train together for a month before we take any missions.” He reached into the inner pocket of his flak jacket. “I’ve brought you a present.”
“Oh?” Sakura braced her weight on her elbow. “What is it?”
“Your Anbu mask,” Kakashi explained holding out an object wrapped in dark green material.
Sakura took it from him, their fingers brushing in the exchange. She noted that they wore the same type of fingerless black gloves. Carefully, she unwrapped the green material to reveal the white Anbu mask, she flipped it over and cursed.
“You must be fucking kidding me,” Sakura scowled. She lifted the mask up accusingly — it was a kitten.
Kakashi smiled through his mask, his visible eye crinkled happily. “Nope, Kitten. It goes well with my Hound mask.”
Sakura huffed and studied the designs of the mask. She looked at the inside that would rest against her face and saw it was completely blank. “Genma said something about fuinjutsu to hide my unique features.”
“I’ll teach you how to apply the seals,” Kakashi explained. He rose fluidly to his feet, the familiar slouch in his tall frame. “You’ll have to decide what your disguised features will be. — I’ve adjusted my hair style, color, height and build to the senses of those around me. Unlike a henge, I don’t actually adjust my body measurements— doing so would affect my fighting style.” He offered his hand to help her stand.
“Okay,” Sakura sighed. She took his hand and let him help her to her feet, even though it wasn’t necessary.
“You’re bigger than I remember,” Kakashi murmured, blinking in surprise before releasing Sakura’s hand.
“Puberty does that to a girl,” Sakura snapped haughtily, hooking her new mask to her hip.
“Mah, now you’re making me feel old,” Kakashi complained. He gestured towards her mask vaguely. “My first mask was a fox. I had it changed to a hound once I reached captain. If you don’t like the animal, it’s motivation to advance in the ranks.”
“I don’t particularly want to be in Anbu,” Sakura answered. “My Hokage has asked and I will do my best.”
Kakashi nodded. “Minato Sensei is the reason I went into Anbu. He recruited me when he became the Yondaime.”
“How old were you?” Sakura asked.
“Fourteen.” He grimaced behind his mask. “I was shorter than you at the time.”
“I find that hard to believe,” Sakura said with a laugh. Her smile faded when she noted Kakashi’s pained expression. “You were younger than everyone.”
He nodded. “Yeah.” He shoved his hands into his pockets and stared across the rooftop for a moment. “We’ve only got a month to get you field ready. Meet me at Training Field Three in an hour.” Then he was gone, leaving Sakura behind to blink in surprise at his absence.