Chapter Text
"What are you doing? Move faster!"
It was a loud voice waking him this time. Eyes still adjusting to the darkness of the cell, he looked up to the source of the voice. As he had guessed, they had brought a new one. The number of prisoners had been rapidly increasing for the past week. What on earth could be happening outside?
It had been roughly two weeks since they became prisoners of this place—or "slaves," as the guards preferred to call them. Other than his cellmates, guards were the only ones he saw every day, be it dropping off food and water for them or bringing in new cellmates. Calling that molded bread and nasty water food would be impossible. A normal healthy person wouldn't be able to live more than a month on this kind of sustenance, not to mention the sick ones...
Speaking of which, he turned his head to find his companion awake and staring at the wall, probably trying to adjust his eyes to the darkness. Then his gaze fell on the nasty injury. Dried blood covered his shirt, but the area where he was hit was a darker color. Some of the material had even stuck to his wound because of the amount of blood he had lost. Fortunately, the bleeding had stopped, but one wrong move and he would bleed all over again, which was probably the worst-case scenario. He was sure that his partner was in pain, not reacting now probably because he was in greater pain when he was hit by that mysterious weapon.
Hit while saving him.
He furrowed his brows.
Instead of regretting what had already happened, he decided to analyze the murderous weapon carried by very suspicious men. It was a stick-like weapon, he remembered, most likely not much longer than his katana. But those men didn't use kenjutsu; they fired with those sticks. It wasn't an arrow they were using; instead, it was small black balls with great speed. No matter how fast those shots were, they were faster. The first shot landed on a tree: it didn't go through, but the damage was evident. He also noticed the smoke where the ball landed. However, he didn't have time to analyze further when the second shot was sent in his direction. He dodged this one too and looked at the man who fired the shot. One of the weaknesses of this weapon was its sound and smoke while shooting, which would give away the location of the shooter. He easily closed the distance between himself and the anonymous shooter just to find him busy with his stick. He was curious why his opponent didn't attack and instead decided to busy himself with the stick. Then he saw his hands shaking and trying to put a ball into his weapon.
'Recharging,' he thought.
His katana came fast and soundless, and the shooter's body dropped from the tree. He raised his head to see Shisui doing the same with the second shooter. They were not even chunins, he realized, bending down to retrieve the weapon left behind. It was heavier than he expected and too complicated to be called just a stick. He had heard that in some parts of the west, people had started using special equipment that shot using special powder. But what was this kind of weapon doing in this part of the world? This part of the West was close to the border with the East. There was no possibility of Eastern ha-
His thoughts were interrupted when Shisui's loud voice shouted,
"Itachi, the third one!" He immediately turned his head to see the third shooter sitting across from him.
The smoke.
The sound.
His father had always told him to expect enemies everywhere and every time. But here he was, standing too intrigued by the new weapon and weak shooters who weren't able to conceal their presence. The fact that the group couldn't do that didn't mean that they wouldn't have members able to do that, right?
It was too late to try and dodge; he could've at least lessened the damage by avoiding getting shot in his vital organs.
Just when he was planning that part, the flickering image of a person appeared in front of him.
Onyx eyes widened. "Shis-"
Before he knew it, his partner was shot and falling from the tree. His instincts kicked in, and he effortlessly caught the falling figure, resting him under the tree and checking his condition. Luckily, the shot missed his vital organs, but the wound on the right side of his belly didn't look good. But Itachi didn't have time for this now.
Quickly, he jumped to the next tree, and before the third shooter could blink, he was standing before him. Unlike the others, this one tried to draw a kunai, but before he could do something, a long shining katana was dangerously close to his throat.
"Who are you?" Itachi demanded. The shooter, with wide eyes, was looking at the shinobi.
Itachi furrowed his eyebrows and brought the edge of his katana closer, causing a small stream of blood.
"Who sent you?" he asked again. He didn't have time for this. He needed to treat Shisui's wounds as soon as possible. This time, the shooter reacted, raising both hands to indicate that he had no intention to fight. There couldn't be one even if he wanted, not when he faced an angry Uchiha.
"I... you... don't know," Itachi glared at the foreign shinobi. He wasn't from the East and didn't know the language. Just when he was going to end things, because he couldn't get any useful information from a shinobi who didn't speak his language, the shooter spoke again, "Person... scary money give... me need to kill... two east people... and red eyes."
Now this wasn't good. There weren't many people with red eyes from the East; actually, there was only the Uchiha clan with their dojutsu. Whoever was paying these ones was after their clan. His thoughts were interrupted when the man spoke again.
"Me... don't kill... me... please." He was begging for his life. Itachi ended things with one move and returned to the place where he had left wounded Shisui. One look at his face showed how much pain he was in. Itachi closed his palms over the wound, and a light green light appeared. It wasn't much help, but he hoped it would somehow lessen the pain. However, the wound didn't show any signs of closing; his experience and knowledge in the medical area were only basic, but even he knew that this was no normal wound.
They had to find help as soon as possible. But they were now very far from their country.
He looked at the small hut, which looked as poor as the other houses in the village. Even the thought that someone could live there and call it home was strange. He stepped toward the hut with Shisui by his side when he heard the voice:
"Come in, young man. You don't have time to look around," it was a hoarse old woman's voice he noted. The fact that she was able to detect them standing in front of her hut made him think maybe the rumors could be true.
They had spent two days wandering around villages asking for possible medics. However, since all the villages were populated by civilians, they didn't have medical personnel around. All the villages were poor because the principal's soldiers took everything, so even if they had a hospital, there was no way these people could afford that type of luxury. But from the information he gathered in one of the small villages, there was a "Life Savior Lady," apparently an old lady who excels at healing people, some even said she could bring people back from the brink of death.
Now that they had finally found this lady's hut, Itachi hoped that their effort was not a waste of time they didn't have and that this lady was a real healer. He was not naive enough to believe that she could have brought someone back from the gates of death. Probably the only person who could have done so was a famous slug princess, an enemy of theirs.
They entered the hut and it was cleaner than they expected. He saw an old woman sitting on an old chair that was missing one leg. She didn't even glance at them and pointed to the small futon in the corner of the hut. They slowly walked to the futon, and Itachi helped his companion lay down. The old healer stood up and also made her way to the futon.
"Ehhh. What a nasty thing..." she declared. Itachi looked at her, but the only source of light was coming from the holes in the door, so he noticed that the lady could probably be in her 90s. She looked very old with her white hair and the rags that couldn't be called clothes.
She meant the wound, and he knew it. His eyes fell on his partner's face, which was sickly pale. He had been suffering so much these two days. Even bleeding wouldn't stop with Itachi's abilities.
He was suffering because of him.
If Shisui hadn't protected him from that weapon, he'd be in the same situation. No, maybe worse. His cousin risked his life for him, and he owed him that.
"Luckily, it didn't land here," she said, breaking the silence again.
She meant the small ball. So, she knew how he was shot. She could have been familiar with the weapon.
"Can you fix it?" he asked, trying not to look at the dried blood traces on the bedsheet that was definitely not washed for a month or so, and the smell that was all over this place. However, this was not a time to be picky. This lady was, in fact, their last hope.
"Well, I can stop the bleeding, yeah," she said, with her hands glowing green. He glanced at her. "What, surprised?" she giggled.
He was not. Not at the fact that this lady was not a civilian, he had guessed it when she sensed them earlier. But the fact that she was living among the civilians was intriguing. Medics played a crucial role on the battlefield. That's why, in some places, civilians are forced to be medics and provide help. But since they are the power behind the army, they are the ones to be targeted as well. With the danger it includes and the difficulty of the job, there is a big need for medics. But the ninja medics who can use chakra were a different story. Clans would kill each other for obtaining a ninja medic; if they happened to be captured, their price was ten times higher than a competent soldier. Was she hiding here all this time?
"Not a big talker, I see," she muttered to herself, gaining his attention. "Or not from here, ah?"
She suspected that he didn't know the language. He hadn't until the last month. The language spoken here was quite different from the East. They knew that their mission would go this far and that language would be crucial here. So now he was nearly fluent, but it didn't mean that he would brag nonstop.
Getting no answer from the young man, she sighed and decided to continue her work. Her palms stopped glowing after some time. The wound was not closed but at least the bleeding had stopped.
"He was lucky to not get that shot in his stomach, you know? This wound can at least be fixed a little," she was making her way back to her chair. She noticed him looking at his patient's wound. "I stopped the bleeding. I know it was not much, but that's what I could do."
He wanted her to do more, he expected her to do more. But it wasn't her fault, was it? The fact that she could do this much at her age was already commendable. He turned around.
"If he had been shot in the stomach, you wouldn't have been able to heal?" he asked, deciding to gather some information on that weapon.
She laughed at his question, earning a stare from him. "Me, you say?" she giggled again and went to a more serious voice. "No healer could heal that. Not even a god, believe me."
It was definitely bad news. The wound that no medic would be able to heal. The weapon could be more dangerous than they had imagined. He looked at the sleeping figure of his cousin.
At least he looked at peace. But he remembered that he didn't recall the healer giving him any sleeping pills. He was having trouble sleeping after receiving this wound. Then he noticed something.
The smog. The smell.
His head was spinning and his eyes were blurry.
"Sorry, but I'm afraid that this is the only way you could pay me for my services," he heard the old lady's voice. It sounded far away. "That's a pity that I couldn't fully heal him, I could have sold him for a good price."
The sleepless and restless days caught up with him. His instincts were so dull because he was pushing his limits too far. He should have known. He should have seen. He sho-
Everything went black.
That's how they found themselves in the prison cells. Judging from their language, it should have been one of the army camps to the west. That old healer sold them as slaves. That's probably why she was upset when she couldn't heal Shisui's wound. They pay less for the sick ones. They had been here for roughly two weeks. They weren't put to work immediately, as Itachi had suspected. It could probably be because of the slave numbers. Many were coming to the other cells, and putting everyone to work would risk losing control. The way they put people to work was horrible. Maybe they put new ones to work when the others could no longer work.
"Bet there is great weather outside," his cousin's quiet voice interrupted his thoughts. He was looking at the small hole that was supposed to be a window. It was the first time he had spoken in the two weeks they had spent here. Even the small child sitting far from him seemed startled. Maybe he thought he had been dead the whole time. Shisui offered a small sign of a smile to the boy, who couldn't be older than eight. What could have brought him here, he thought. Meanwhile, the startled boy hid his face in an old lady's rags, who seemed to be close to the child.
"Your wound has opened again," he stated the obvious.
"Ahh, this," he smiled, or tried to imitate a smile. "I don't feel it anymore, that's fine."
Itachi's stomach sank. "It is not fine. We will get out of here and find a new medic," he tried to sound as optimistic as possible. But Uchiha Itachi was anything but an optimist.
"It's a military camp, isn't it?" he asked, but was not expecting an answer. "It'll not be possible to flee without anyone noticing. Not with me."
"And what are you suggesting?" he was mad. They both knew what he was saying, and Itachi was mad. To think that he would leave his cousin behind was impossible. He had never done so, regardless of the place and situation. How could he even suggest something this ridiculous? "Would you leave me behind if I were shot?"
It was now evident that he was mad at his cousin's suggestion. Shisui tried to reason, "It's different. You wou—" he stopped upon hearing the metal doors opening. It was mealtime. They all looked at the door, expecting the nasty guard, but it was a female figure this time.
"Be quick," a voice behind her closed the metal door.
They all looked interested in the person in their cell because the only person they had seen was that nasty-smelling guard.
"I brought you a meal," she declared. Her voice was smoother and more pleasant to hear than the guard's hoarse voice they were used to. The child moved after hearing the lady's voice.
"S-sakura nee-chan," there was undoubtedly happiness in his voice. So he knew the girl. But what was she doing here?
"Quiet. Please be quiet, Geto," the young woman whispered. She placed their dinner on the floor and hugged the boy, he guessed from their figures. It was a dark room, so the person sitting at the other edge of the room couldn't be seen. "I'm relieved that you're alive. Sanako-san, how are you?"
"I'm good. Sakura-chan, I'm happy that you're here," the old lady she addressed answered. Itachi and Shisui silently watched the family's little reunion. They could probably be happier if it weren't a prison cell.
"I brought food for you here. Please eat up. It's not molded," so she's not in prison. She must be working here. Did she bring unmolded food only for her family, or could they be lucky too? "I'm afraid I don't have much time. I have to go," the figure stood up to leave but was stopped by the boy grabbing her sleeves.
She sighed. "Geto, I can't stay here for long. I'd visit tomorrow. I promise, okay?" Her voice was so light, spreading a happiness that couldn't exist here. Was she smiling, Itachi wondered.
Geto shook his head in response and pointed at the sitting figure. "That oji-san is sick. Can you help him, please, Sakura nee-chan?"
His request seemingly shocked everyone in the room. Especially Shisui, who thought that the boy had been scared of him. Asking his sister to help a stranger when she didn't even have time for him was insane, he thought.
"Geto, you know she won't have time for this. Don't make impossible requests," the lady reprimanded the boy. His posture slumped a little.
"That's fine, Sanako-san," she answered and faced their way. Was she deciding what to do? Helping a total stranger who couldn't help you in the future should be a big no for her. Why would someone risk their life for someone they don't know, right? Her decision was clear to the two ninjas, and they wouldn't blame her for that.
Itachi watched as she made her way towards them. Finally, when she left the corner where the boy and old woman were sitting, he could see her face now. At first, he thought he was dreaming. There could be no other explanation for this. She reached the place where the light from the window fell. Uchiha Itachi was most likely hallucinating because this girl here was glowing. She was too bright for his eyes, which hadn't seen color for two weeks straight. Milky skin tone, emerald eyes, and pink hair? Could it be that he started imagining all the colors on one person because of the lack of colors in his mind? This could be a good explanation for this situation. But the girl didn't stop; she hesitantly approached Shisui.
"Can I see your wound, sir?" she asked, almost whispering. Shisui stared at her for a good ten seconds (not adjusting to her colors, Itachi decided) and nodded. He didn't know what she was planning to do, but he quickly decided nothing bad would come from showing her his wound.
He nodded.
The girl began lifting his shirt as accurately as possible under the gaze of the two Uchihas. She could feel their eyes on her every move. The lighting wasn't good enough to see the full extent of the injury, but it was sufficient to reveal that it was severe. She frowned, considering what she could do now. She could see now that it was also bleeding. Without her help, this person wouldn't last a week here. Even the fact that he had managed to survive this long was a stroke of luck.
Knock. Knock.
Two hard knocks on the door signaled that it was time for her to leave. She didn't have any more time. Not today.
The Uchihas watched silently as she searched for something in her bag. She made a face, "Here it is," and tried to offer a not very good-looking pill to her patient when Itachi stopped her. She looked at him with emerald eyes that searched for the reason behind his action in his own eyes.
His eyes fell to the pill she was offering. "What is that?" His throat was dry due to the lack of water, and the question sounded harsher than he had intended.
"It's a medical pill," she answered. But the man was expecting her to continue. "It will help with sleep and any infections one might have." After hearing the answer he wanted, he released her wrist.
She turned to Shisui and handed him the pill. "Please, make sure to take this today. It's the only thing I can do today," she sounded upset. But her tone lightened again, "I'll make sure to come back tomorrow, and we can deal with the wound."
"Why?" was the single question Shisui managed to form.
"Because you're my patient now, sir," she replied, smiling again. With that, she stood up and left the cell. But the question was still unanswered for both Uchihas. Why help a stranger? Why get upset that you can't heal a stranger today? Why feel obligated to come tomorrow? As ninjas, they'd question everything. Every move should have a motive. But this wasn't the case for civilians. Their emotions were always easy to read, whether it was fear, happiness, or sadness. Ninjas always conceal emotions; they would get in the way. Ninjas and civilians are different creatures living in the same world.
"Sakura nee-chan is a very good person. She helps everyone," the little boy spoke so suddenly, filling the silence after the pink-haired girl left. Both Uchihas were probably still staring at the door after she had left, so the boy decided to explain. They didn't know how to respond to that.
"What he meant is that Sakura-san is a medic, and if she has appointed you as a patient, she will certainly help you," the old lady spoke for the first time to them. But the information was good to know. A medic was what they needed more than anything right now, and the fact that she was willing to help was beyond amazing.
"Yeah... uh... thank you so much," Shisui muttered and took the pill. It tasted worse than molded bread, but remembering the medic's words, he swallowed it. He let out quiet curse words, making sure the boy wouldn't hear.
From his cousin's reaction, he could tell that it was bad. At least it would mean that it was real medicine.
"Medicine shouldn't taste good. Bear with it," he smirked with a little hope now.
"Shut up."
The sound of the large metal door opening woke everyone in the cell. It was already mealtime. The food that the pink-haired girl had brought was still fresh when they ate it. Shisui had mostly been sleeping since yesterday; this should have been his second time waking up, which meant that the medicine was doing what it was supposed to do, they hoped. They had been waiting for time to pass quickly after the girl left yesterday when she had planted a seed of hope in two strong shinobi.
Itachi lifted his long eyelashes lazily towards the person who had just entered—a small, female figure.
She came.
As she promised, she came. He hadn't expected her to. It could have been a little hope that she gave and nothing more. He expected her not to appear today. But there she was, making her way toward them after hugging the little boy. She was carrying something. She silently bent near Shisui and placed the box that she had brought with her when she entered.
"And there I thought I was hallucinating yesterday," Shisui tried to sound amused as he watched the pink-haired girl open her box, revealing medical supplies. Itachi eyed them, feeling relieved that he wasn't the only one who had thought of this girl as an imagination.
She smiled before answering, "I'm happy that you're okay now."
"I'm happy that you didn't die last night," Itachi interpreted her message. It was all luck. There's no way that pill could have saved him from death. He must have been really lucky that the wound and the food hadn't killed him for two weeks.
"I need access to your wound," she quietly said as she lifted his shirt, revealing the horrible wound on his right side. She pulled another drug from the little bag she had carried last time. "Here, please take it," she quickly glanced over at Itachi, probably to check if he was going to stop her and ask for details about the pill. He did no such thing. It was obvious that if she had decided to put him out of his misery, she could have done that with the pill she gave yesterday. No foul would return the next day to give another one.
Shisui looked at the pill with slight resentment, remembering the taste of yesterday's pills, which looked dangerously similar to this one. "It will help you not to feel pain to some degree. I'm not allowed to use anesthesia here, so that's the best I have. It'll help when I'm working with the wound," she muttered more to herself than to the others. She wanted them to know that she was doing this to help him. With that, she started disinfecting the wound.
The process was painful. But the good ninja that Shisui always had been, he didn't make a sound for the whole hour. Tiredly, he watched as the girl finished bandaging him.
"This will be fine for now," she informed him. "Unfortunately, I can't come tomorrow, so please refrain from activities that could reopen the stitches. We need it to heal before you can move around," she said, sounding like the order that medics normally give their patients. Shisui nodded. Then she started to remove the false bottom of her box under the gaze of the bewildered shinobi. After removing the fake bottom, they saw a small space between it and the real bottom of the medical box. It was a liquid in four medium bowls that looked like soup. "I couldn't bring anything good because the food they feed soldiers is also bad. This is the best thing I found." She placed two bowls, leaving the other two for her family. "It's very important for you to drink liquid since you lost too much blood."
"Thank you, uh—" he looked like he was trying to remember something.
"Sakura," she smiled at her patient. "It's Sakura."
"Ah, yes," he was disappointed in himself. Who on earth could forget such a name? "Thank you so much, Sakura-san. I—I don't know how to thank you properly."
"I'm merely doing my work here," she answered, but everyone knew that it wasn't her job to help a prisoner. "So, please, don't worry and focus on recovering, yeah—uh—"
She wanted his name.
Itachi looked at Shisui; of course, he wouldn't be foolish enough to give her his real name. A short nickname should suffice.
"Aah, I didn't tell you my name, Sakura-san," he proclaimed as enthusiastically as possible. "Shisui, my name is Shisui."
Itachi glared at him. He had underestimated his cousin's wound and the influence of the pink-haired girl. He sighed.
"Yes, Shisui-san, please follow the instructions," she said as she started to clean her equipment. When she stopped, as she remembered something, her gaze went to Itachi. Before he could register what was going on in this girl's mind, her eyes started to wander all over his body. He was displeased with the situation, but she looked like she was searching for something. After a good minute of scanning his body like a pervert, the girl finally asked him.
"Do you have any injuries that would need medical help?" she could've asked first before visually assaulting him.
"No, I don't," he answered, not breaking eye contact with her.
"Yes, you do."
Shisui looked at his healer and cousin's interaction, bemused. Itachi was glaring at the girl now, and she was eyeing the cut on his right shoulder.
"It's nothing," he replied, not liking the girl's attempts to help him.
"Under normal circumstances," she didn't give up, "it's easy to get infected here, and in that case, even I won't be able to help you." She didn't understand why he was refusing her help. It's not like she wanted something from him in return.
"It can heal without any help," he knew that she was right, but he didn't need her to help him. She was helpful to Shisui, and that was more than enough for him. There was the slightest chance of his wound healing without medical help. So he didn't want to trouble the girl and make their debt to her even bigger.
She let out a loud sigh, and just when Itachi thought that she had finally given in, he found her making her way towards him.
She tried not to be intimidated under the intense gaze of this man, but it was rather hard, especially when the man was trying to pierce a hole in her head.
"Sorry, but I would hate to amputate your hands just because you thought it would heal without any help, sir," her eyebrows were furrowed because of the emotions she was experiencing right now.
Pity?
No, it was worry.
She was worried about a strange man dying in prison cells. Her eyes were the window to her soul. Everything she was thinking, she was wishing for, was here in her eyes. Civilians tend to show what they think on their faces; it would be a gesture of a good and honest person. But for them, it was a weakness. Only the weak shinobi would show their emotions to strangers, to the enemy, and in some cases, even to the family. Being raised as the Uchiha clan head's first son, as an heir to one of the strongest clans, he had no space for emotions. The Uchiha prodigy led a battle when he was barely twelve; he had his first kill at the age of six, which made him wonder about the meaning of life. He showed no mercy to his enemies, no weakness to everyone, and no emotions.
Some called him the perfect tool.
And he was perfect. But that's what he wanted them to see, what he allowed them to see. He still had so many wonders and questions in his head. Not even his family understood him. They were proud of him, proud of the living tool they had created. The one who knew him and his thoughts was his cousin. He became his best friend, to whom he shared his worries when he started killing enemies; they shared the saddest moments of their life as well as the happiest.
That cousin of his was now looking at him and telling him wordlessly not to reject the girl's offer. Even in his state, he was worried about him. He let out a small sigh and nodded. The girl's face lightened up, and he watched as she moved closer to examine and treat his wound. His body tensed when she drew a little scalpel. She might've noticed it too.
"I have to cut the fabric to see the cut better. I have no intention of attacking you, sir," she said casually. It's not like she would be able to, even if she wanted to. Exhausted or not, wounded or not, Uchiha Itachi could have killed her with no effort if he felt the need to do so. The fact that she thought he was afraid of her attacking him was ridiculous in his mind.
"Ahh, sorry, Sakura-san. My little cousin tends to avoid any interactions with real people," the humor in his voice was evident.
The pink-haired girl chuckled while putting the scalpel down. Not happy about being the source of their amusement, he gazed at the girl who was now working on his cut with a more serious face.
It was his first time seeing her this close. He guessed she should be younger than himself by a few years, though he could be wrong. Her pastel pink hair made her look younger. The light in her eyes was foolishly naive, as if she believed that she could help everyone who needed her help. These were not the eyes of someone who had seen the real battlefield, he decided. With her oval-shaped face and petite figure, she looked so fragile, giving the impression of an angel. She was beautiful enough to become one, he thought.
A real question was what she was doing in a place like this. She probably was caught with her family and placed in prison. But now she was working here as a medic, as that old lady informed them. She was a medic before being caught. He had seen her working. He had seen a lot of medics working on wounds before. He himself had worked on some wounds before. That's how he knew that this young girl was highly experienced. It would be impossible to imitate these skills, not to mention building them in a matter of months. But given her age, he didn't expect her to have experience at all. He noticed a little frown appearing between her eyebrows as she analyzed the cut before bandaging it. Every glimpse of what she was feeling showed on her face. Somehow, the Uchiha heir was puzzled and amused simultaneously.
After finishing treating his wound, she turned her head just to find him looking at her. Probably he had been watching her every movement until now. When the realization of that hit her, she started feeling her cheeks growing hotter. The fact that this injured man was still looking at her at this distance didn't help her. Under his obsidian gaze, she felt her soul being sucked in. He wasn't just watching; he was aware of every emotion that her soul could experience.
She thanked the darkness of the room that hid her blushed cheeks from everyone in the room. Or she hoped so.
The knock on the door interrupted her thoughts just in time. She started shoving medical equipment into the box.
"Same goes for you," she addressed Itachi in a professional tone. "Please, refrain from opening your cut." Itachi looked like he wanted to say something but just nodded.
"Sakura nee-chan," the quiet voice called her. He had been interestingly silent the whole time she worked on their injuries. "Are you leaving?" he sounded sad.
He heard her footsteps moving toward the boy's side. "Toga, you're a good boy, right?" The boy nodded slowly. "Good boys deserve what?" she asked. Her professional tone was now dropped, replaced by the sweet, almost childish voice.
"A candy," the young boy proclaimed happily as he watched her pull out a couple of sweets from her pockets. "Thank you, Sakura nee-chan. You're the best," he hugged his sister. The boy was too happy about the small gifts he received from the pink-haired medic.
"Just bear a little, Toga. Everything will end soon," she kissed him on the forehead and said goodbye to the older woman.
She left the room, but her words stayed in the minds of the two shinobi. What could she mean by that? Were those just words to calm a little child who couldn't know better, or was something going to happen?
"I told you that she's very kind and good," the child faced their way and smiled proudly.
"Yeah, kid. Thank you so much. She was very helpful," Shisui replied genuinely, resulting in a pink color in the little boy's cheeks. They were similar in some ways, Itachi thought about the medic that had just left.
"Toga," the kid answered, puzzling everyone. "My name is Toga, not 'the kid.'"
Shisui snorted at the kid. "Alright, Toga. I'm Shisui," he corrected and introduced himself. After all, he was in debt to this child. If not for him and his sister, he couldn't imagine the state he could be in. "Do you like candies?"
Toga's eyes brightened. "Yes. Sakura nee-chan says that I shouldn't be eating them too often," his tone saddened.
"But it's too hard not to eat them," Shisui finished his sentence for him. Toga's eyes widened. He knew that he wasn't the only one who thought like that. Now he could try to explain it to Sakura nee-chan.
"Y-you, you know that too? D-do you also like candies? I-I mean, do you eat them every day?" Toga seemed far too excited when it came to sweets.
"I don't actually like them that much," Shisui smiled apologetically, seeing Toga sulking. "But my little cousin here is ready to kill for some sweets," Itachi knew this was coming.
"Really?" Toga, the boy, was enthusiastic again and was looking at him with hopeful eyes. He sighed. He liked sweets, but he wouldn't kill for them. Why would he kill someone when he could buy them? But explaining this to a civilian boy wouldn't be easy.
"I eat them twice a week," he answered calmly after being forcibly dragged into their conversation. The boy's eyes were replaced by stars.
"W-wow, that's... that's incredible. Sakura nee-chan allows me to eat only twice a month. I wish I were as lucky as you," he was calling him lucky because he was allowed to eat more candies? Itachi wanted to remind the kid that he was a full-grown adult, and he was only six or maybe seven years old.
"But she always brings the best ones for us," he giggled, seemingly remembering some happy moments of his life. "Until we were captured," his voice saddened, and those flashbacks of his happy life disappeared, replaced by the dark cell he was in.
"Were you attacked?" Shisui asked carefully and quietly.
"We were having dinner when a scary-looking officer told us to follow him or he'd kill us," he paused to look at his sleeping grandmother. "Sakura nee-chan wasn't home, so I should've been the one protecting our home. But I couldn't."
"You're still a kid. That wasn't your responsibility," Itachi surprisingly responded. Shisui nodded in agreement. If there was someone who could understand having big responsibilities as a kid, it would be his cousin.
"But still, if we hadn't been captured, Sakura nee-chan could've protected us. They said that they would kill us if she tried to do anything," his voice was trembling. "Sakura nee-chan is strong, but because of me, we ended up here." He was silently sobbing now.
The powerful Uchihas exchanged looks. No matter how excellent strategists they were or how genius they were, consoling a crying child was not in their arsenal of abilities. Itachi was the one to break the silence.
"It's okay to be weak when you have people to protect you," the kid raised his swollen eyes to look at Itachi, trying to understand what he was talking about. "Everyone is weak in the beginning. Strength is not born but made. Rely on the people you have, enjoy being protected. The day will come when you'll be the one providing protection. But even when you think you're strong enough, your loved ones will still try to protect you as they can. So the only option you have is to become stronger in the future."
Silence followed afterward. The Uchiha heir found two males staring at him. Were they even listening?
"What?" he asked, with noticeable annoyance in his voice.
"It's- it's just," he suspected that the boy was blushing right now, "I never thought that you were that type of person."
He didn't have an answer for that. What type of person? He didn't know what type of people Toga was talking about, but he definitely got the wrong idea. Whoever this kid was talking about was his father, definitely not him. It didn't help that Shisui now started chuckling.
"It's probably the longest speech that I've heard you make. I'm—I'm impressed," he was still laughing at him. The Uchiha heir opened his mouth to say something that could make him shut up, but stopped when he heard that the kid was also giggling.
He could probably let it go this time since the kid was not crying anymore.