Chapter 16: The Purpose of Life

A week had passed since Shisui and I eagerly anticipated Itachi's return from his mission escorting the Land of Fire's daimyo to the Hidden Leaf Village. Shisui, however, was sent on a last-minute mission that took him away from the village for a few days, meaning he couldn't be there to welcome Itachi back from his first long mission.

That afternoon, I searched for Itachi, checking our usual meeting place, but he was nowhere to be found, so I resorted to searching in town. While wandering, I overheard snippets of conversation about Itachi's mission, and I couldn't help but listen intently, hidden from view.

The news was grim. The mission had gone terribly wrong. The daimyo had been attacked by a masked man, resulting in the deaths of all 12 guardian ninjas. A boy named Tenma Izumo from Team 2 had been killed in action.

Hearing the grim news about Itachi's mission, my heart sank. The thought of him enduring such a traumatic experience alone was unbearable.

Determined to find him, I redoubled my efforts, my resolve strengthening with each passing moment. I visited his house frequently, hoping for a glimpse of him, a sign that he had returned safely. Yet, each time, I was met with empty rooms and the quiet absence of his presence.

As the day wore on and shadows lengthened, my search became more frantic, driven by an instinctual need to be there for him, to offer comfort and support in whatever way I could. The village around me bustled with its usual evening activity, the sounds of families gathering for dinner and children playing in the streets creating a stark contrast to the turmoil within me.

Despite my efforts, Itachi remained elusive, a ghost slipping through my grasp. As evening descended, casting a warm, golden hue over the village, I found myself standing alone, the realization dawning upon me that he didn't want to be found. A part of me understood; he was grieving, processing the loss and the weight of what had happened, and perhaps he needed solitude to come to terms with it all. I told myself that when he was ready, he would reach out, but it did little to ease the ache in my heart.

So, I watched the sun dip below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, feeling my chakra nearing its end. The day had taken its toll, both physically and emotionally, but I couldn't shake the feeling of helplessness that gnawed at me.

With a heavy sigh, I resolved to continue my search the next day, hoping that he would allow himself to be found.

~~~

The next morning, I sprang from bed, a renewed sense of purpose driving me. The urgency of the previous day's events still lingered in my mind, fueling my determination.

I quickly dressed and made my way to the kitchen, where the familiar aroma of breakfast greeted me. I ate with haste, my mind already racing ahead to the day's mission.

As I finished my meal, I turned to Grandpa, who sat across from me with a knowing look in his eyes. He had always been perceptive, understanding the bonds I shared with Itachi and Shisui Uchiha. Although he made it known to me that he doesn't appreciate the fact that my friends were boys.

"Grandpa," I said, my voice firm with resolve, "please don't wait for me today. My friend needs me now more than ever."

Grandpa nodded, his expression gentle and understanding. "Go on, dear. Be there for your friend. Sometimes, just your presence can make all the difference."

With his blessing, I resumed my search for Itachi, starting at his house. I found only his mother and younger brother, Sasuke, who was engrossed in a picture book, lying on his stomach on the porch. As I leapt down from the roof, Sasuke's eyes lit up, and he seemed about to call out but hesitated, glancing around to ensure his mother wasn't nearby.

"Big brother left just now," Sasuke whispered, carefully climbing down from the porch.

"I see," I replied, as he ambled over to me, his expression somber and tinged with sadness.

"Big brother is sad," he confided, his eyes glistening with unshed tears.

I gently poked his forehead with a paw, offering a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, Sasuke. Aki is here to help."

Nodding vigorously, he wrapped me in a tight hug, squeezing me until I felt my insides compress and my face swell. At three years old, Sasuke might not have fully grasped that I wasn't truly a cat, but to him, I was a comforting presence.

"See you soon. And stay away from the pond," I reminded him as I took my leave.

~~~

As I made my way through the village, the harsh voices of children caught my attention.

"Who do you think you are?!"

"You think you're better than us?!"

My ears twitched, and I spun in the direction of the commotion.

"If you're so great, why did Tenma die?!"

Fury surged within me, hot and unrelenting, igniting every nerve as my claws instinctively extended, sharp and ready. They gleamed menacingly in the sunlight, catching the light like tiny daggers. My heart pounded furiously, each beat a drum urging me onward as I bounded from rooftop to rooftop, driven by the urgent need to reach the source of the cruel voices echoing through the air.

As I neared the scene, I perched on a sturdy tree branch, my claws dug into the bark. My eyes narrowed as they locked onto the unfolding situation below.

There stood Itachi, surrounded by three boys, a bit older than him, who I recognized as likely former classmates from the academy. They circled him like vultures, their voices dripping with malice as they hurled hurtful accusations and taunts his way.

"Who do you think you are?!" one boy sneered, his voice carrying over the rustle of leaves.

"You think you're better than us?!" another spat, his tone laced with envy.

"If you're so great, why did Tenma die?!" the last shouted, the words cutting through the air like a blade.

Itachi stood silent amidst the onslaught, his head bowed low, casting his face in shadows. His fists were clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white, the tension visible even from my vantage point. He bore their taunts with a stoic demeanor, but I could see the strain in his posture, the way his shoulders trembled ever so slightly under the weight of their words.

The bullies circled him mercilessly, their eyes gleaming with a twisted sense of satisfaction at the sight of Itachi's silence. They were relentless, feeding off each other's energy, emboldened by the perceived power they held in numbers.

My heart ached for Itachi, for the pain and guilt he must have been feeling, compounded by the cruelty of those who should have been his peers. It was a scene of injustice, and I couldn't stand by and watch any longer.

"Damn you, Uchiha!" one boy shouted.

"Why didn't you help Tenma?! Now he's gone!"

Itachi remained silent, his head still lowered, as he attempted to walk away, breaking the circle. But one of the boys grabbed his arm, preventing his escape.

Without a moment's hesitation, I sprang into action, my body a blur as I leapt from the branch, propelled by an overwhelming surge to protect. I wouldn't allow them to torment him any longer. I wouldn't allow them to see his silence as weakness. They needed to understand the consequences of their cruelty, to feel the sting of their own words as keenly as they had inflicted them upon him.

The boy holding Itachi's arm barely registered the blur before I landed on his face, my claws unleashing a flurry of scratches. Startled, he released Itachi and stumbled backward, screaming in terror.

"Get it off! Get it off!!" he shrieked.

His friends rushed to his aid, but they were no match for my agility as I leapt from one face to another, scratching them until they fled, tails metaphorically between their legs.

Breathing heavily from the adrenaline rush, I watched as the boys disappeared around a corner, their cries echoing in the distance. My heart still pounded in my chest, fueled by the adrenaline and the protective instinct that had driven me to intervene. Yet, as the dust settled, so did my anger.

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It was maddening how I hadn't noticed it sooner—the subtle undercurrents of resentment that existed around Itachi. How had I been so blind to it? Only now, as the pieces fell into place, did I realize the full extent of what he had been enduring. Itachi, despite his natural charisma and popularity with the girls, was subjected to such resentment from the boys. All because of his exceptional abilities and his Uchiha heritage.

"Aki."

The sound of my name, spoken softly yet with it carried deep, unspoken emotions, pulled me from my thoughts. I turned to find Itachi standing a few feet away, his posture slumped, his usual composure cracked by the events of the day. His eyes, usually so bright and promising, were rimmed with a deep redness, betraying the sadness and guilt he carried. The sight tugged at my heartstrings, and I felt a swell of compassion for my dear friend.

"Itachi!!" called a voice behind him.

I glanced over to see Izumi Uchiha running to his side. Itachi immediately lowered his head, allowing his bangs to obscure his face.

"I can't believe they would say that to you. Are you okay?" Izumi asked, worried.

However, Itachi didn't respond or even look at her. Instead, he approached me, kneeling to pick me up from the ground.

"I want to be left alone, Izumi," he said quietly, without turning back.

Izumi hesitated, wanting to step forward but ultimately holding back. I glanced at her over Itachi's shoulder, sensing her genuine concern and confusion over his cold demeanor.

Cradling me gently in his arms, he leapt into the air, his movements fluid and graceful as he carried us swiftly to a secluded spot in a large park, where a serene lake mirrored the sky's reflection. The tranquility of the setting contrasted sharply with the turmoil I knew he was feeling inside.

He took me to an enormous tree, its ancient branches sprawling wide and offering shelter from prying eyes. With care, he placed me on a sturdy branch, high above the ground and hidden from view. Then he settled down beside me, leaning against the rough, textured trunk of the tree. His knees were drawn up to his chest, and he wrapped his arms tightly around them, as if trying to shield himself from the world—from me, from everyone and everything.

My heart broke anew at the sight of him, so small and vulnerable against the vastness of the tree. As I stared at him, I remembered the cracks on my bedroom ceiling, the ones that seemed to multiply with each passing year, widening ever so slightly as time wore on. Each one was a silent testament to the weight of time, a reminder that as we moved inexorably closer to our fates, we would be forever changed...

"Itachi—" I began, my voice soft and hesitant, trying to find the right words to offer comfort.

But he cut me off, his voice strained with emotion. "H-How did you know about the masked man—that he was going to show up?"

His question hung in the air, heavy with unspoken fear and confusion. He peered out from behind the protective barrier of his knees, his eyes trembling in their sockets, unable to focus on me. It was as if he were searching for answers that eluded him, desperate to make sense of everything.

"I—" I stammered, my own heart aching at the raw vulnerability in his voice. But I found myself at a loss, unable to provide the answers he sought.

"Did you know about what would happen to Tenma?" he pressed, his voice cracking under the weight of his emotions.

There was an edge to his tone, an anger simmering just beneath the surface. Yet, as I looked into his eyes, I realized that his anger was not directed at me, but inward—at himself.

I shook my head solemnly, my ears drooping slightly with the weight of my own helplessness. "No. I don't know anything else beyond what I told you," I admitted, my voice barely a whisper against the gentle rustle of leaves around us.

Itachi's gaze narrowed, suspicion and hurt mingling in his dark eyes. "Who...are you, Aki? Are you related to the masked man?" His words were tinged with desperation, a plea for clarity.

The familiar ache in my heart intensified, growing sharper with each passing moment as I met his cold, accusing eyes. It was as if a chasm had opened between us, one that I had never imagined would exist. To see Itachi, someone I cared for so deeply, looking at me with such suspicion and doubt—it felt like a blade piercing through my chest.

I had always known that things could become complicated, but I had never anticipated this—a rift so profound that it threatened the bond we shared. I tried to remind myself that he was in pain, grappling with confusion and grief, and that his questions were born from a desperate need to make sense of the chaos. Yet, despite this understanding, his gaze felt like a physical wound, leaving me raw and vulnerable.

I did not wish to lose his friendship. After all, he was the cornerstone of everything that had begun.

"I...I am Aki Natsuri from the Land of Frost..." I began, my voice trembling slightly as I turned away from his penetrating gaze. I couldn't bear to meet his eyes. "I live alone with my grandpa on the outskirts of the Hidden Frost Village... One day, during a winter storm..."

I paused, uncertainty gripping me. Should I continue? Should I reveal the truth or conceal it behind a lie? But the mere thought of lying felt like a searing pain, worse than any blade.

"I stumbled upon him," I continued, my voice barely above a whisper, as the memory flooded back, vivid and haunting. "He was seriously wounded," I confessed, closing my eyes against the memory. "He was on the brink of death, and without thinking, I...helped him." The word 'helped' felt heavy on my tongue, almost refusing to come out as I recalled his ominous warning before he disappeared into the distortion.

The silence that followed was thick, and I could still feel Itachi's gaze, as intense as ever. He was waiting, patient yet insistent, for me to reveal what I knew of the masked man—for a connection that would absolve me of any ties to him.

"I dreamt of him..." I admitted finally, exhaling a breath I didn't know I was holding. "I saw that he would appear before you during your mission...I swear, I didn't see anything else beyond that."

"So, it was all speculation..." Itachi's voice reached me, detached and distant, as if carried on the wind from a faraway place.

His response, though calm, carried an undertone of disappointment as if he knew I was still hiding the full truth yet he did not pressed me any further. He hid his face and remained silent for a long time as I sat quietly beside him, offering my presence.

Itachi finally spoke, emerging slowly from the cocoon of silence he had wrapped around himself. Now that I was truly seeing him, I could see the toll the past days had taken on him. His eyes were weary, encircled by dark shadows that spoke of sleepless nights and relentless self-torment. He looked exhausted, worn thin by the weight of everything he had experienced and endured.

"You said that...I'm a prodigy of my generation," he began, his voice trembling with a vulnerability that made my heart ache. "Then tell me, Aki... why couldn't I save my friend?" His eyes, filled with shame and guilt, lowered to stare at his open hand, as if searching for answers in the lines of his palm. "When the masked man attacked, it was Tenma who jumped in. And I... I just froze—I couldn't do anything."

I watched him, tears welling up in my own eyes, threatening to spill over. He seemed adrift, lost in the labyrinth of his mind, trapped in a world of despair and self-reproach. The detachment and sorrow in his dark eyes were palpable, shadows dimming the light that once resided there.

"Life... is so fragile," he murmured, his voice barely rising above a whisper. "It's like a flower, easily trampled underfoot and snatched away as if it were nothing." He lifted his gaze then, meeting mine, yet his eyes seemed to look beyond me, seeing something far off and unreachable. "What is the purpose of life, Aki?... To live just to die one day?"

His question lingered in the air, heavy with existential dread and the innocence of a young boy seeking meaning in the face of incomprehensible loss. It was a question that had no easy answer—it was one that not even I knew how to answer.

But in that moment, I knew I had to answer. Perhaps, an answer that would offer him solace. Although not really understanding the concept of life and death myself, I poured everything I have into my answer.

"You are right, Itachi. Life is truly a fragile thing," I began, "Every morning when I wake up, the first thing my eyes fall upon is the cracks in my ceiling. What started as a single, faint line has, over the years, branched out, each line marking the passage of time...I became so absorbed in tracing each new crack, watching them spread and intertwine, that I failed to notice the tiny flowers of life that began to emerge from those very fissures."

I paused, letting the imagery linger between us, hoping to find a flicker of understanding in his eyes. "Life is a tapestry woven with both joy and sorrow, strength and fragility. We may not fully understand why we are here or what our ultimate purpose is, but perhaps it is in the journey itself that we find meaning."

I held his gaze, hoping that he couldn't see my hesitancy. I didn't realize it until I was halfway done with my speech that I was reciting a passage I read from one of Grandpa's many books.

"Isn't that why we fight, Itachi?" I said quickly, hoping he wouldn't recognize the words—I knew he loved books too. "Even when we're knocked down or broken, we get back up. We fight because there's something worth protecting—something worth nurturing... like those little flowers growing from the cracks. We fight for the people we care about, for love, and for the chance to find meaning in a world that doesn't always make sense."

The wind rustled the leaves around us, carrying with it the earthy scent of the trees surrounding us. Yet, despite the beauty of the moment, Itachi remained still, trapped in a heavy cloud of darkness and grief. I couldn't bear to watch him suffer alone—not when I was right here, able to reach out and help.

With a sudden burst of determination, I leaped toward him, and he had no choice but to catch me in his arms, his expression shifting from despair to surprise.

"You shouldn't blame yourself entirely, Itachi. Your friend, Tenma, although gone, a part of him still lives in you," I said softly, my voice tinged with both sadness and hope. I pressed a paw gently against his chest, right over his heart. "Right here, in your heart. He would have wanted you to carry on."

I want you to carry on...living.

His breath hitched, and I could see the flicker of emotions churning behind his dark eyes. "Aki..." He paused for a moment that felt like an eternity, the weight of his grief palpable. Tears began to form, glistening in his eyes like shards of glass reflecting the pain he had held onto for far too long. His lips trembled, and as he blinked, they flowed freely, cascading down his cheeks like a dam bursting.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice cracking under the strain of his emotions.

Itachi lifted me to his neck, embracing me tightly as if he were afraid to let go, not wanting me to see the tears that fell. In that moment, I was reminded of how similar he was to Shisui; both Uchiha boys had a fierce desire to remain strong and dependable, even in their most vulnerable moments. Itachi must have gotten it from him.

Oh, what am I going to do with the two of you...

"It's okay. I understand," I reassured him, doing my best to pat his back in my cat form. "I'm the one who should be sorry. I couldn't even be here for you in times like these. I can't even hold you and take you out for dango to cheer you up."

At that, a small chuckle escaped him. I could feel him nuzzling into my fur, and his embrace tightened around me. "We can still go get some dango," he replied, a hint of mischief returning to his voice.

Even I couldn't help but chuckle in relief at the thought of Itachi's favorite treat. His love for sweets, especially dango, was well-known among our friends. "Sure, but I don't have any money, so... put it on my tab. One day, I promise I'll take you out to eat as many dangos as you can."

"Promise?" he asked.

But then, an unsettling thought invaded my mind like an unwelcome shadow—Danzo Shimura. My eyes narrowed as the image of him flashed before me, and I felt a surge of anger. I vowed to land a clean hit on him, even if he was just my clone transformed. A hit would mean progress—a step closer to eliminating the real threat.

I will kill him.

I smiled, "I promise."

"Aki," he said, his tone turning serious once more. I blinked, drawing my attention back to him as he pulled away slightly to make eye contact. "I don't care if you are or aren't who you said you are. You and Shisui are my dearest friends. When you're ready, you can tell us. I will be patient and wait."

I stared at him, overwhelmed with gratitude for his understanding and the comfort he extended to me. Tears began streaming down my face, a release of all the emotions I had been holding back.

"Thank you for everything, Aki," he said softly, his voice filled with sincerity. "You are more than I could ever ask for."

I nodded solemnly, tears continuing to trickle down my fur. But then, abruptly, a sudden irritability flickered to life within me, halting the tears in their tracks.

"What—what is it?" Itachi asked, surprised with a hint of nervousness at the sudden change in my demeanor.

"Take this!" I exclaimed, launching myself at him with a burst of energy, landing playful punches against his shoulder. "That's what you get for avoiding me all day yesterday! Making me run around the whole village!"

The memory of my frantic search ignited my frustration, and I couldn't help but vent my annoyance. Itachi's eyes widened in surprise at my unexpected outburst, and I could see a flicker of regret cross his features.

"Oh, I'm sorry about that too," he admitted, his tone sincere as he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

In response, I flashed a claw in front of his eyes, the sharp tip glinting in the sunlight. "You see this?" I warned, watching as his dark eyes widened further, captivated by the way my claw reflected in them. "I've been sharpening these claws until they're razor sharp. If you even think about pulling that kind of stunt again, you're gonna get these!"

Slowly, the corners of his mouth began to curl upward, a flicker of amusement breaking through the tension, and before I knew it, he burst out laughing, the sound ringing like music in the air.

"Hey, don't laugh," I scowled, confused by his reaction. "You saw firsthand how I left those terrible scratches on those bullies! I can do it again if you didn't see them clearly. Next time, I'll do far worse damage!" I huffed, trying to maintain my playful bravado.

"It's okay," he assured me, a chuckle still lingering in his voice. "They're not worth it."

"I'm not doing it for them," I replied quickly, my words tumbling out before I had a chance to think. "I'm doing it for you. You are worth it."

As soon as the words left my mouth, I noticed Itachi's expression shift, his cheeks gradually turning a bright shade of red. To my surprise, he quickly turned his head away, blocking my view with his hand, as if trying to hide his embarrassment.

"What—?" I tilted my head to the side, bewildered by his sudden shyness.

Suddenly, I felt my feline body being lifted into the air, and before I could react, Itachi gently set me down on the sturdy tree branch, positioning me away from him.

"It's best if you just stay there," he said, his head still turned away, his long bangs falling forward to shield his face from my view.

Was he embarrassed? Flustered? Maybe he just needed space—but even so, he was being weirdly dramatic about it...

"Okay..." I glanced between him and the branch where I sat, confused but choosing not to dwell on it for long. "Let's go get that dango, Itachi."