In a remote part of Konoha, there was a district that was densely populated, yet, from an aerial view, noticeably separated from the village's core. The wide streets, save for the scattered fallen leaves, were remarkably tidier and more organized than the rest of the village.
Another big difference was that, every home, store, and establishment in this district prominently displayed a crest resembling an uchiwa—a traditional bamboo and paper hand fan—with a red semicircular upper half, and a white lower half.
It was still in the wee hours of the morning. Only a few red streaks marred the dark sky. People were still asleep and in a few more hours their day would begin. The lights were turned off in all houses across this district—except for one, which seemed to be full of activity.
On the rooftop of this house, carefully hidden in the darkness was a small boy looking inside the house. The boy looked no older than seven or eight years old—and the back of his high-collared shirt was proudly displaying the same crest that could be seen everywhere. The boy's head tipped to one side, and a hand pressed to the chest.
Meanwhile, the room was still silent, they were still reeling from Yashiro's astonishing announcement. That he would not oppose this—something that would break the tradition of the Police Force.
At that moment Uchiha Masato let out an abrupt laugh. "Ha ha. That's great. Now that we have all come to an agreement regarding this matter, Mikoto, we can proceed with what you had in mind."
The silence shattered as the room was filled with low relieved murmurs and discussions once again.
Mikoto, who stood up earlier, now with tears welling in her eyes, slumped back into the chair. A lightness filled her chest; and a slow smile curved her lips.
Masato's words also brought Itachi—the boy on the rooftop—out of his stunned reverie. On the rooftop, Itachi, his mouth agape and eyes wide, was jolted back to reality. He had been so taken aback by Yashiro's words that he didn't notice Yashiro leaving.
So, he couldn't see Yashiro glancing his way with mild amusement in his eyes. And so, he remained unaware of someone trailing Yashiro, then flickering onto his rooftop.
The mysterious figure was standing just behind Itachi in the shadows. The slender form suggested a woman. Her long, slightly greying raven-black hair is tied back in a neat bun. She slowly walked toward the boy, who was crouching and peering into the room. The faint light from the room illuminated her sharp features and high cheekbones.
She was a severe-looking woman with fair skin and black eyes. She had an imposing presence. She was very similar to Mikoto. One could see where Mikoto got her good looks from.
Her expression softened, and her demeanor turned kind and gentle as she looked at him. She inched closer to him and patted him on his back.
Itachi—who had not yet fully recovered from his earlier shock—upon feeling this sudden pat on his back almost let out a primal scream. It took him everything to keep from jumping and exposing himself to everyone inside; since they went to the trouble of patting him, they probably weren't an enemy. He clenched his jaw and the hand that was on his chest pressed even harder to calm his heart hammering furiously. He was pretty sure the stranger could hear his heart thundering.
Itachi tentatively took one step away from the hand on his back and the room, turning back slowly.
It was then.
WHOOSH!
The moment he turned back a kunai was flying toward him and was about to pierce his forehead. Itachi instinctively raised his hands to cover his head while mentally scolding himself for not bringing his ninja pouch.
.
.
.
However, the expected pain never came.
He didn't feel the cold touch of metal he was anticipating on his hands.
Blood didn't cloud his vision, nor did he detect the iron scent he expected.
The kunai never pierced him; even after a few seconds. Baffled by this he slowly lowered his hands and let them fall to his side, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He was hyperventilating just from the thought of what could have happened.
Taking a few deep breaths, he collected himself and raised his head, looking into a pair of red eyes glowing in the dark: it was a Sharingan with three-tomoe.
He stared blankly, wiping his sweaty brow, as he looked at his grandmother, Aika.
Aika fixed him with her stare for a few more seconds before she blinked.
"You're getting sloppy, Itachi," she said in an undertone, so that only Itachi could hear her. Once she reopened her eyes they were black—leading one to question if the red had ever been real. "Being taken by surprise is one thing, but you still haven't figured out that it was a genjutsu."
Itachi broke eye contact with Aika and dropped his head closing his eyes, and clenched his fists. "I was distracted, grandma, still in shock from... Elder Yashiro… said…" he trailed off as his shoulders dropped, and he gave a bitter smile.
Aika walked to Itachi, reached out and lifted his head, so that Itachi was once again looking at her. "There's nothing to be ashamed of if you learn from your mistake, Itachi."
Her hand now moved to the top of his head and ruffled his hair as she said, "Now, let's move our discussion elsewhere; seeing as you didn't yell when you saw me, I'm guessing you want to keep your eavesdropping a secret." Then she added with a wink, "Am I right?"
The corners of Itachi's lips curved up as he answered with a nod.
Itachi, smiling guiltily as if caught doing something naughty, nodded and avoided her gaze as he said, "Yes, grandma. Can you please keep it a secret for me?"
Aika laughed at her grandson's antics. "Only if you let me call you Itachi-chaaannnn~, the way your Aunt Kushina does."
With a reddening face, Itachi muttered in an indignant tone, "GRANDMA… NEVER… I am having enough trouble trying to get Aunt Kushina to stop. I can't have you doing that as well."
As grandmother and grandson were bantering without a care in the world, Aika's hand dropped from his head and took hold of his arm.
SWISH!
Both of them were nowhere to be seen the next moment. A few people inside the room wore slight smiles of amusement; Mikoto was shaking her head with a helpless smile.
***
In a secluded corner of the compound, beyond earshot and sight, stood a lonely tree.
There were two rocks under this tree, both of which were occupied: a woman was leaning with her back against the larger one, while a small boy was sitting on the other one a short distance away.
In the dim light that emanated from the house, a few vague details were visible.
The woman was wearing a white haori, while the boy was wearing a black high-collared shirt. Even in the dim lighting, the uchiwa crest on their backs blazed defiantly.
"So…" the boy began. "How did you find out that I was…" he trailed off.
"Eavesdropping? Spying?" the woman offered with amusement and it seemed like she had more where they came from. The boy raised his hands in resignation to stop the woman from suggesting even worse terms for his actions.
The woman smiled and said, "That… Itachi…" she trailed off.
The boy, Itachi, perked up his ears and waited expectantly to find out how he was spotted. He was pretty confident in his stealth and now his mind was coming up with all the ways he could have messed up that made her aware of his presence.
Itachi's grandmother, Aika's smile broadened. "is-for-you-to-figure-out." She punctuated each word by raising her hand and pointing at him.
Even though Itachi felt indignant by her unfair treatment, he didn't try to persuade her further. He knew his grandmother very well. Once she made up her mind, he had never seen her change it.
Since she wasn't about to let him know of his shortcomings, then why did she bring him here?
Frowning, Itachi tentatively asked, "But, grandma, you said you had something to discuss."
"Well…" she paused, letting the silence linger, before saying, "I had something to discuss, but seeing how you reacted—or your lack of a reaction—on the rooftop added one more thing to talk about."
Itachi winced at her mention of the small scuffle on the rooftop and swallowed, realizing this wasn't just a casual observation from his grandmother.
The silence stretched. He had a feeling this was about more than just his sloppy reaction on the rooftop. Filled with anticipation, he fixed his gaze on Aika, waiting for her to speak.