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Initially, Itachi Uchiha infuriated you.
He would come into your cafe - a small Konohagakure bakery staffed by only a few of the village's best bakers and baristas - and sit for hours at a time, rarely ordering anything from your register and therefore taking up a seat that a paying customer would then fill.
You’d see him almost every shift. Sometimes, you’d turn away from your register for just a moment and then turn back to find him sitting in the same spot as always, almost as though he’d been there the entire time. It was a little game of yours to spot him coming in; it was kept privately, of course, and nobody was aware of your constant glances toward the door at 9:00 AM every morning. From the moment the doors of your cafe unlocked to the appearance of Itachi Uchiha in his usual seat in the corner, you were determined to catch him in the entrance.
Of course, your job required you to do more than just stare at the doorway for eight hours. You’d go to frost some cookies or turnovers, to run some coffee out to the lobby, or to simply take an order for a paying customer - only to glance back at Itachi’s table and find him sitting there, as poised and elegant as ever, reading a book.
He often wore the same outfit; it was an Uchiha signature look, his black jeans and a plain shirt. Sometimes there would be a jacket added on colder days and rarely, the necklace underneath his shirt would be on display. His hair was always worn in one of two styles: neatly braided into one low braid in the back, or hair worn down gracefully drawn across his shoulders with the left side of his front strands tucked behind his ear. On the days where he appeared the most tired, though, wearing black jeans and a sweater, a pair of simply framed glasses would appear on his face. In his entirety, Itachi Uchiha was a man of patterns. He wore the same outfits, spent his days at the same cafe, and failed to order from your shop almost every day.
On a cold day in late November, you set out the coffee in its usual spot at the lobby table. You took a brisk walk back to your register, only to find the one and only Itachi Uchiha standing at the counter waiting for your return.
“Hi,” you smiled lightly at him, sighing as you pushed back your hair in annoyance, “what can I get for you?”
“I’d like a hot tea, please,” he said. His voice was melodic and delicate almost, which took you off guard. It was the first time hearing his voice, you realized, and you took the time to savor it.
“Sure, what kind of tea would you like? We have these options.” You nudged the small tea display in Itachi’s direction, yet his eyes didn’t move an inch. His unblinking stare was kept on you, though it somehow felt as if he was looking through you instead.
“The green tea, please,” Itachi stated. His hands were shoved deep in his pockets and his shoulders were held back, seemingly confident yet alarmingly cool.
You nodded and grabbed an appropriately-sized mug for him before filling it with hot water. After placing a lid on it and grabbing the packet of green tea, you returned to the counter to find a five dollar bill laid neatly out for you. You placed his drink and tea on the counter and gently slid it toward him.
“Thank you,” he said, “please keep the change.”
He had grabbed the mug and tea from the counter and turned away from you, about to walk back to his seat, but you had already called out to him.
“Wait!” You said reflexively, and you instantly regretted speaking once he had turned back around, a plain expression drawn across his face.
He didn’t respond and only waited for you to continue.
“Can I ask you a question?” You asked. You silently decided that you might as well ask him what the hell he was doing here every day not paying for anything.
He nodded.
“T-Thank you,” you stuttered, suddenly aware of your own awkwardness, “what do you do here all day, if you don’t mind me asking?”
He tilted his head slightly and his eyebrows furrowed in the smallest movement. Before he could speak, you cut in. “I’m just curious, since you’re here every day but you never get anything.”
“I don’t see how it’s any of your business,” he said. Despite the passive-aggressive words, his tone didn’t indicate anything more than pure factual expression.
“I think it is,” you said, “since this is my shop and you take up a seat without paying for anything.”
Itachi flashed you the smallest smile. Your teasing had amused him.
“If you must know,” he replied, “I read here. I enjoy the atmosphere in your shop.”
“Is that all?” You pushed.
“I also enjoy your tea.”
You scoffed, seeing the untouched mug in his hands. “You haven’t even tried it yet.”
Itachi, amused by your words once more, smiled. “I’ve had almost a hundred cups of tea here, Y/N, but perhaps you were too busy staring at the doorway to notice.”
A blush rose to your cheeks when his words echoed through your mind, clear embarrassment drawn across your face. You had never once suspected that he’d picked up on your little game.
“If you’re going to be so outwardly nosy, you should perhaps try an opponent who doesn’t have such keen eyes.”
He brought the mug to his lips and in the blink of an eye, he had returned to his seat while you stared in disbelief, utterly confused by the words he just spoke.
-
Two weeks later, you finally became fed up with not understanding how Itachi was able to sneak “hundreds” of cups of tea past you. You were making your final dish rounds throughout the lobby when you noticed a mug on Itachi’s table, the remains of a used teabag and a few drops of water sitting at the bottom.
“Alright,” you interrupted, “you’re going to tell me how the hell I haven’t noticed you stealing tea from me at all.”
You placed your hand on the table and sat down across from him, watching him intently as he shut his book. You noticed that he didn’t even mark the page, and that somehow intimidated you more.
You watched his face as he stared at you, clearly trying to read your face and understand what was going through your mind. When he came to the conclusion that you were very clueless in the world of ninjas, he decided to pity you.
“I will tell you, but first I must clarify something. I never once ‘stole’ anything from your shop, as I’ve made a deliberate effort to make sure my money ends up in your register by the end of the night.”
You leaned back, shocked, and urged him to continue. He flashed you the same small smile that you saw during your first interaction.
“I am a shinobi, one of the best. I was trained to observe and see everything. I caught onto this little game of yours rather quickly, and I used a simple genjutsu to make you unaware of my presence when needed.” He watched as you struggled to find words, plainly battling your confusion and finding it difficult to understand what was being said.
“T-That’s not true!” You said, embarrassed at your lack of knowledge, “that’s way too much work for no payoff!”
Itachi watched your struggle continue with an amused expression. He leaned back into his chair and crossed his arms as a surefire sign of confidence and taking pleasure in your idiocy. “People live their lives bound by what they accept as correct and true. That's how they define reality. But what does it mean to be ‘correct’ or ‘true’? They’re merely vague concepts.”
You shook your head and laughed. “I don’t know anything about that ninja stuff,” you said although it had already been made apparent, “so I guess I have no choice but to believe you.”
Itachi’s lip twitched upward for a moment, and he found himself to be pleasantly satisfied with your reaction. He had noticed your game long ago and, being the man that he is, decided to play the long-game to see how long he could go before you’d finally catch on. After over a year of nothing, though, Itachi finally decided to give in. Your reaction was satisfactory for him, enough to justify internally his conscious decision to spend the chakra casting a clone to be in the lobby of your cafe every single day.
Itachi, seeing you rub your temples in disbelief, had an idea.
He reached his arm across the table and gently brought his fingers to your chin. His skin was cool to the touch despite the warm temperature in the building, and it was a contrastive feeling. He pulled your chin up until your eyes met his, and then you saw something that could only be described as terrifying .
His eyes flashed a bright red color with black circles around the pupil, instinctively striking a disconcerting feeling into your chest. Before you had the time to even think about his seemingly magical change in appearance, you’d been dragged into an entirely new reality.
You were now standing on a beach with black sand, standing across from Itachi himself who was holding your chin in the same position. He dropped his arm slowly and watched your indolent movement. Your head turned slowly toward the water and you watched the white waves crash onto the shore, dragging black sand back with it as it fell into the ostensibly endless ocean of purely white water. There was a glare that had caught your interest, and you looked up to see a blood-red sky with a black moon hovering above, a white glow around it filling you with panic. The inherent surreality of your surroundings was already unsettling enough - finding yourself staring into a black moon with a white halo, for some reason, was what made you break out into a panic.
“W-Where am I?” You asked, pulling yourself away from Itachi in fear, “what did you do to me?!”
“You’re under my genjutsu,” he stated simply, like you didn’t need any further explanation. You shook your head at him and brought your hands to the back of your neck as you glanced around nervously, clearly distraught. “It’s a trance-like state, a world out of the reality you know.”
You were silent for a moment as you listened only to your heart beating wildly within your chest. “H-How?”
“My eyes. To put simply, it allows me to cast a spell of sorts on you that makes you hallucinate the world around you.”
“So… this isn’t real?” You asked, watching the waves crash back onto the shore. The sound calmed your nerves just enough for your voice to stop wavering in fear.
“You are safe. Not even a fraction of a second has passed in your reality within our time here.” He stepped toward you slowly and placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. “I am one of very few that can use the Sharingan. The chances of experiencing this reality again is near zero.”
You nodded and did everything you could to ground yourself - you found what little comfort there was to be had in Itachi’s hand on your shoulder.
“Can I go back now?” You asked.
-
You did your best to ignore Itachi for the next week. Every time you looked at him, you were reminded of the terror you experienced when he’d put you under his genjutsu; it shattered your worldview entirely, and you spent the majority of your time at home researching the ninja world. You discovered groundbreaking information that changed your perception of the world around you - mainly how you perceived your reality. You analyzed everything in your sight when you went out, desperately looking for signs of any ninja activity in your presence. The most terrifying thought of all was being caught in someone’s genjutsu without even realizing it, you decided.
You spent more time researching the Sharingan than anything. You learned all about its ability, or at least you absorbed all the information that was public knowledge on the internet. You were sure there were dozens of secrets hidden in the Uchiha clan that related to the infamous Sharingan, ones that would likely make you faint at the thought.
There was one article that struck a sick feeling into your stomach, though. You’d been scrolling on the fourth page of google at that point and you came across an article entitled ‘The Uchiha Clan’s Secret Suicide’ . It told the story of Shisui Uchiha, a member of the clan with an impressive Mangekyō Sharingan, that had committed suicide many years ago. Reading the article filled you with an initial sadness and your thoughts wandered to how Itachi had dealt with it at the time, seeing as Shisui was a member of the same clan as your cafe regular. It wasn’t until you scrolled to the bottom of the article when you read something that stuck out.
‘While the official report determines suicide as the cause of death, Uchiha clan member Itachi Uchiha has been facing accusations in light of the discovery of his unknown whereabouts on the night of Shisui Uchiha’s death.’
Your stomach turned, and you opened a new tab. Upon googling Itachi’s name, two articles popped up.
‘Itachi of the Sharingan Charged with the Murder of Shisui Uchiha’
‘Itachi of the Sharingan: The Rogue Ninja’
The rest of your evening was dedicated to reading every single piece of information on Itachi, determined to figure out exactly what this man was doing in your cafe every day. After discovering his status as an officially rogue ninja, you were extremely suspicious of his presence. It was already incredibly risky for him to be anywhere near Konohagakure, let alone spending every waking moment in your cafe lobby reading a book.
When he appeared at your counter mere days after your discoveries, you shot him a suspicious glare.
“Are you here for tea or to destroy my worldview again?” You asked, uncertain of his motive. Itachi simply stared at you for a moment before shaking his head ‘no’.
“I am here to tell you exactly why I am here.”
Before you could even think about responding with a snarky comment, he continued.
“I’m sure you’re well aware of who I am now. You’ve spent every waking moment analyzing your outlook on life, ruminating on every interaction you’ve had with the world. Haven’t you?” It was phrased as a question, but you knew that he was not asking anything. You could only nod.
Itachi leaned toward the counter, hands pressed firmly into his pockets. You avoided his piercing gaze that was practically taunting you, begging you to look into his eyes.
“I fear that leaving you in the dark will bring more problems than it's worth, so I’ll elucidate, Y/N.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out an old wallet - it was surely well worn but clearly taken care of, the smallest pieces of flaking leather sealed carefully into the fabric. He pulled out a single photograph of a young boy wearing an Uchiha outfit.
“This is Sasuke,” he stated.
“Your brother,” you whispered as you took a closer look at the photo, taking in the sight. It had clearly been in Itachi’s wallet for quite some time, as the edge of the photo that had been sticking out was worn well into the contents of the photo and the corners had been torn. The portrait itself, however, remained in pristine condition. Sasuke could have been no older than 8 in the photo, judging from the large and youthful eyes on the boy. His delicate smile was adorable.
“I was correct, then. You’ve done your research.”
A flush rose to your cheeks, but you didn’t respond.
“I stay at this cafe every day because it’s within range of the Uchiha estate,” Itachi gestured toward the door, “I can sense Sasuke’s chakra all the way to the academy. To put simply, your store is the perfect location for me to keep an eye on my little brother at all times.”
Your hands instinctively moved to your chest as you expressed your fondness for the situation - it was adorable, after all, that Itachi cared so deeply for his brother. He risked everything for Sasuke; at any given moment, Itachi was at risk of being caught in Konoha. One wrong move and the ANBU would be throwing shuriken and kunai through your walls to hit the target on Itachi’s back.
“So you’re not here because you’re plotting some evil murdery plan, then,” you said as a wave of relief washed over you. You weren’t amazing at reading people, but from what you could tell, Itachi was being completely honest.
“I’m not here at all, even.”
Itachi disappeared from your view, and then you heard a voice behind you.
“I use a clone to keep track of Sasuke on most days.”
You jumped and let out a yelp as you twisted around, finding Itachi standing behind you with a fresh mug of steaming tea in his hands.
“Y-You didn’t pay for that!” You accused, but he simply nodded toward your register. On top of the computer was a five dollar bill laid neatly. You turned back to him.
“You ninja are so annoying,” you mumbled. Itachi’s lip twitched in amusement.
“I didn’t grow up around you shinobi people,” you explained, “I barely even knew what ninjutsu was until you showed up here. I couldn’t even tell you what chakra is.”
“Chakra is, essentially, the energy flowing through your body-”
“It was rhetorical, Itachi, I know what chakra is. Kinda.”
“Oh.”
You flashed an amused smile and turned back to the counter, still avoiding his gaze. “Anyway, I never knew about any of this crap and it’s freaking me out now. I read a lot of horrible things about shinobi, I don’t even know what to believe.”
Itachi returned to the opposite side of the counter and set his mug down gently, making sure to use his pinky as a rest to muffle the sound of the ceramic hitting the hard surface. Even during such simple moments, he was a well-mannered individual.
“The shinobi world is full of atrocity, yes, but it would be foolish to believe that it’s entirely horrific. The only reason you stand here before me, waking up in your bed and not in a grave, is because of the shinobi that protected this land for centuries.”
You glared at him in a clear act of embarrassment. He was far more intelligent than you, he made that clear from the moment he began speaking, but that didn’t make it any less humiliating any time he countered your words with a statement so coherent and scholarly that you were at a loss for words.
“You wouldn’t get it,” you sighed, exasperated, “you’ve never been in a normal family without all that ninja stuff. You don’t know what it’s like for us normal folks.”
He smiled at you, just barely enough for you to catch it. “You are correct,” he said, “I could never relate to your experience. That does not mean I do not sympathize with you.”
You let out a laugh and crossed your arms. You glanced over at the entrance of your cafe and noticed the lunch rush of people headed for the door in anticipation for your food, and you groaned. “I’ve got to get back to work,” you said lowly, turning your head back to Itachi, only to find nobody there. You looked toward the back of the cafe and found him sitting at the table with his mug of tea as if he’d never even left the seat.
You huffed. “Ugh. Ninjas.”