ღℳasked ℑdentityღ {Itachi Uchiha}

♥o2♡

You were glad to have chosen the airline with the longest line to check in. The entertainment of witnessing the happiest representative working in an airport this early in the day helped your mind ease away from depressing memories of facing Itachi.

The rep shared her wide smile with every passing person, but randomly became amused seeing a young girl like you in the zombie state due to your slight under-eye dark circles, messy [H/C] hair and careless attire.

"Aha~! I know how you feel, sweetie!" the rep beamed, a little too chirpy for your taste. "Being stuck in an airport for many hours SUCKS!" She created an 'X' by crossing her arms in front of her to emphasize 'sucks'. "BUT! You'll be outta here as soon as you get your ticket!" Letting out a giggle, her fingers raced all over her keyboard while you could only yawn.

"Okay~! Now may I have your name and also place your luggage on the weight, please?"

"[First Name], [Last Name]."

The rep quickly typed and looked at you as your check-in info came up on the screen. "Oooh~ Seattle is a wonderful place to visit during the summer!"

"Oh, I'm not visiting," you corrected, lifting your luggage onto the weight scale. "I'm moving there."

"Brave girl from Cali moving up north to the rainy state!" the rep beamed as she wrapped the strap of your luggage with a sticker of your name and flight number before placing it on the conveyor belt. "Okay, let me print out your ticket and on you go to your new home~!"

"Great." You nodded, rocking on your heels and glanced down to your feet only to be reminded of Itachi by the corny writings that smudged on both the tips of your shoes.

 I + [Name Initial] =♥

You remembered him smiling when he marked them with a sharpie so it would last longer, but daydreaming was cut short when your phone vibrated. Startled, you jump in place on who could be calling at 4AM.

'Itachi or...?' You gasp under your breath, heat rushed to your cheeks. If only you'd remembered to shut off your phone—or at least throwing it away.

It was your dad. But you were hesitant on answering.

After your dad married your step-mother, your life basically became  like a game of Jenga: each block of tolerance was slowly being pulled out while the rest of the blocks stayed balanced as long as possible; until the last block of your patience was pulled, tipping the tower into a collapse thus ending the game.

You had nothing against him—it was his wife, your step-mother that caused you to flee. Despite the mistreatment and being underappreciated by her, your father mistakenly believed everything that woman accused you of doing or saying.

"Here ya go, deerie~" the rep's distant voice snapped you out of your reminisce. She was frowning, but that was because she worried about how the color of you face had faded into pale.

Pressing the Ignore button with your shaky thumb, you sniffled and hid the phone back into your pocket. Pursing your lips, you dried off threating tears at your cheeks and faked a laugh before taking the plane ticket from her hand.

"It's just allergies. Thanks!"

»»»FF 7 YEARS LATER»»»

During these past years, you came to realize that Washington (state) was the perfect destination. The weather was well suited for you: rainy autumn seasons, snowy winters, lovely springs and perfect 75-95 degree Fahrenheit summers. The crime rate was impressively low, which comforted your stay to be permanent.

Passing time (now a 25 year-old) had done a few changes to your body: your hips were slightly fuller after gaining some weight, a waist line curved your body and even your cheek bones became more defined as you stepped into the 'woman' category.