Itachi didn't think Miho heard his decisive observation that she had awakened her kekkei genkai, for the girl fell unconscious right after he finished his sentence. He caught her effortlessly, his dark eyes narrowing as he glanced between her still figure and the record book in his hand. He sighed, shifting her weight so that she was leaning against him as he pocketed the book; it seemed that he really wouldn't have time to track down Hatori. Miho was in critical condition; with the constant loss of blood and chakra, she would be reduced to nothing rather soon.
Unfortunately, Hatori's chakra appeared right outside the doors. Itachi pursed his lips, lifting Miho up so that her body was settled against his, and he exited the room.
"Hatori-san," he greeted, looking at the older shinobi. "You're late."
"Sorry," said Hatori. "I got held up—did you get the information?"
"Not yet…" lied Itachi. "…You got here quicker than I thought."
"The ninjas who chased me down were small fry," Hatori explained. "It was not hard to knock them out and come here. I apologize for not helping you out, but you looked fine on your own. The girl, on the other hand…"
"It was Akira," said Itachi, his eyes narrowing as he looked at Hatori.
"Ah, I thought so…he knocked himself out when we entered, and the moment he fell, I was surrounded…"
"I see," said Itachi slowly. "Good to see that you're fine…"
Itachi clearly saw Hatori move, but he'd underestimated his speed. The traitor brushed instantly by Itachi, aiming for his back, but Itachi whirled around and slammed his leg out, catching Hatori in the waist. The older shinobi gave a grunt as he skidded to a stop, clutching his stomach.
"You don't really think I'd believe you, right?" said Itachi. "I'm afraid that from the start of this mission, the only person on this platoon that I trusted was Chiaki-san; why else do you think I let Akira and you lead? It wasn't safe to let you watch my back…"
"As expected of the Uchiha prodigy," said Hatori through gritted teeth. "Don't think you'll get out of here alive though; you're hampered by the wounded girl and the mask is covering your face, preventing your use of genjutsu. I'm more than enough for you!"
Itachi gave another sigh, lazily dodging a kunai thrown at him. He sensed Hatori above him and moved slightly to the left, letting the assailant come crashing down through the air, hitting nothing. Again, Itachi kicked out, this time hitting Hatori square in the face effortlessly.
"Even at a disadvantage," said Itachi, somewhat bored, "I still win."
"Cocky bastard," snapped Hatori, placing his hands together. "I'll be the last one standing."
Itachi activated his Sharingan, catching sight of the jutsu that Hatori was using.
Katon! Goukakyuu no Jutsu!
"Seriously?" said Itachi wearily, dodging the pillar of fire easily. "As if you could use my own jutsu against me…the Uchiha learn that one at age five…"
"Shut up!" snarled Hatori.
Miho stirred in Itachi's arms, forcing him to lose a bit of concentration and check up on her. Perspiration lined her face and she was beginning to shake; she needed to see a doctor, and quickly.
"Don't underestimate me!" said Hatori furiously, throwing an entire stash of kunai Itachi's way.
The Uchiha prodigy once again jumped up, but this time, it was a mistake. Hatori found him mid-air and plunged a kunai into Itachi's shoulder; Itachi gritted his teeth, pain jolting up his right side. He snapped his leg out and kicked Hatori hard in the chest, then landed perfectly on the ground. Not waiting for Hatori to regain his breath, Itachi indecorously dropped Miho to the ground for a moment before racing forward, his kunai outstretched. In a split second exchange, Itachi sank his kunai straight into Hatori's heart, feeling the thick, viscous blood pour over his hands.
Hatori breathed in raggedly, causing Itachi to force the kunai deeper. Hatori's eyes rolled up to the back of his head and he collapsed, breathing his last, and with a shudder, grew still. Itachi let his kunai fall with a clack, looking down on the corpse with disgust, before turning around to pick up the unconscious girl. Time to play the hero…
Itachi landed swiftly on the ground in the middle of the forest, a few miles away from the village. He didn't think any trackers were following them, and after a good five minutes of straight running, he deemed it safe to finally stop and treat Miho's wound.
The location he'd chosen was convenient and secluded, right by a small creek and tiny clearing; it would be enough to rest for the night. He washed his hands in the river and turned his attention to Miho, who looked even paler than before. Itachi brought his hands up to the collar of her shirt, unbuttoning it dexterously and drawing it down, revealing her shoulders.
He pursed his lips, silently praying that she would not wake up; it would be much too awkward to explain the situation, and he knew that being caught in this kind of position would only make her hate him more…a result he was keen to avoid.
Itachi withdrew a roll of bandages from Miho's bag, cutting a strip of it off with a kunai and dampening it with the cold water. He wringed it out, then began to clean Miho's wound. It was tedious work; it was almost like she was a hemophiliac, as the blood continued to trickle out, never stopping. Itachi activated his Sharingan again, the crimson orbs wandering over Miho's body, trying to find a trace of red. It was all concentrated in her shoulder…and there was not much left.
Itachi cursed, speeding up his pace as he began to bandage the wound, wrapping the coarse cloths over her shoulder tightly and tying it neatly, finishing it with a bow. The red was still concentrated in her shoulder but…it seemed to have stopped flowing out of her body.
Itachi let out a breath, more relieved than he thought he'd be. She would be fine. All the same…he had to report back to Konoha as quickly as he could.
He pressed his hands together in the Summoning signs, muttering the jutsu under his breath. The familiar popping sound resonated in the air, and the crow appeared seconds later.
"Calling me twice in one night?" the crow said musically. "You must be tired, Itachi-kun."
"That I am," he chuckled. "I need you to get to Konoha and report back to the Hokage; tell him where we are and that I'm planning on setting out again tomorrow, but it might be nice if he sent a medic squad out in our direction to treat the wounded kunoichi."
"It's unlike you to care so much for a teammate," remarked the crow, ascending into the air. "She's a snappish one, according to the others."
"She just doesn't like her destined Summon," said Itachi. "She's a girl; she must've wanted something…cuter."
"Cuter doesn't cut it," scoffed the crow. "At least we're intelligent and useful."
"Well, hopefully Chiaki-san will realize that sooner than later. Off you go now."
The crow nodded and disappeared into the air, melting in with the night air. Itachi began to address his own wound, taking off his exterior shirt and cleaning the wound. It was rather deep and hampered his right arm's movement…what a hassle…if only there was some medicine that could instantly heal flesh wounds…
…Instantly heal.
Itachi's eyes flickered to Miho. Wasn't her Ishachi now activated? And couldn't drinking the blood of an Ishachi host heal wounds? Itachi pursed his lips again, thinking. It wouldn't hurt, would it? After all, she was still bleeding like a hemophiliac; all he was doing was drinking the blood that she was losing.
He gave a wry grin. What a vampire-like trait of his. Was he that interested in tasting someone's blood?
But it wasn't just anyone's blood…it was Saruji blood…precious blood. And it could be beneficial.
Itachi lifted Miho up so that she was lying against his bare chest; he then began to unravel her bandages slightly, revealing the now slowly trickling wound. He paused for a moment, trying to remember if there was anything in specific that he had to do to receive the benefits of such blood; Miho hadn't told him anything about it, though, and he could not remember reading anything so in detail about the Saruji clan.
Well, it wasn't a big deal. A little blood couldn't hurt.
He brought his lips to her bleeding shoulder, tasting the salty liquid as it settled over his tongue. What an awful taste. But he was only doing it to satiate his curiosity.
Ah, well…
Curiosity killed the cat, didn't it?
Itachi couldn't remember anything after he drank Miho's blood. He stirred in his sleep quietly, suddenly aware of the intense pain throughout his body…inside his body. His shoulder, the one that had sustained a wound from Hatori, hardly hurt. In fact, it didn't hurt at all. What hurt was…everything else inside of him.
He opened his eyes blearily, his sight hazy and unfocused. He groaned, sitting up, only to have someone catch his shoulder and press him back down on the bed.
Oh. He was on a bed.
His sight began to clear up, and he looked around him. It was a familiar setting; he was in the Konoha hospital…with its pure white walls and distinguished smell of sanitizer…
"Itachi," said Fugaku. "Itachi, are you all right?"
"What happened?" said Itachi groggily, holding his head between his hands. "I—"
He was cut off by a coughing fit, shaking through his entire body; he gripped his chest with one hand as he tried to stabilize his breathing. The simple tasks of inhaling and exhaling exhausted him…
"Where's Chiaki-san?" he asked. "Is she all right?"
Fugaku pursed his lips disapprovingly but answered the question regardless.
"Her chakra levels were dangerously low, but she will be fine. She's still unconscious."
"How long has it been?" asked Itachi tiredly, leaning back on the pillows. "What happened? I don't remember…"
"It's been a week since the medic squad recovered you. Almost all your internal organs were ruptured; you're lucky to be alive, Itachi, and lucky that the squad had been close by. Frankly, I don't know what happened," said Fugaku. "It seemed like you got out of the village fine, according to your crow. It's beyond me how you became so badly wounded."
Fugaku's voice reflected his disappointment, a tone that Itachi was unaccustomed to hearing from his father. Itachi looked up at him.
"I finished the mission perfectly fine," said Itachi a tad coolly. "Exactly how I got hurt…I'm not sure either. Is Hiroki-sensei nearby?"
As if on cue, Hiroki entered the room, eyes lighting up as he saw Itachi.
"Itachi-kun!" he said in relief. "It's good to see you awake."
"Hiroki-sensei," greeted Itachi with a brief nod. "How is Chiaki-san?"
"She's still sleeping, but the nurses say she'll be fine," said Hiroki. "Tell me, how did this happen?"
"…I have a slight hunch," confessed Itachi. "But first…sensei, what happens when someone drinks the undiluted blood of an Ishachi host?"
Hiroki's face paled considerably as he simply stared at Itachi.
"I'm guessing that it wasn't a smart idea to do so," sighed Itachi, running a hand through his bangs. "Damn…"
"…What are you saying?" demanded Hiroki, and there was fright in his voice. "Are you saying that…that Miho has activated her kekkei genkai?"
"I believe so," said Itachi. "She was wounded, and all of a sudden, all her chakra flowed out with her blood; she fainted, and I managed to finish the mission myself. I was wounded when we left the village, so I…er, wanted to see what would happen if I drank her blood…simply curious…"
Itachi abruptly realized that he probably wasn't sounding all that brilliant at the moment, contrary to his typical intelligence. He decided to stop talking and let Hiroki take over the conversation.
"…It's true," said Hiroki slowly, "that your wounds match what happens when a hardly injured person drinks too much undiluted Saruji blood. Saruji blood is so concentrated with chakra that only people who are deathly ill or injured can consume it without feeling the repercussions. If the recipient of the blood is hardly injured, the blood will be too much for the body to accommodate, and it will wreak havoc inside the body. That is most likely what happened to you."
Hiroki heaved a sigh and sank into a nearby chair, thinking deeply.
"…Forgive me," said Itachi quietly. "I'd forgotten that the news of her activation would be ill-received."
"The girl is a selfish one, Itachi-kun. She will not take the news well either." Hiroki lapsed into silence, once again engulfed in deep thought. When he spoke again, it was with a tone of somberness. "Itachi-kun, Fugaku-san, I must ask that you refrain from telling Miho that she has activated her kekkei genkai. I must find a way to reverse it."
"That's impossible," said Fugaku severely. "She must learn to accept it, Hiroki-san."
"No," said Hiroki fiercely. "I will not have her die like her mother."
"…She will feel the change within herself," said Itachi heavily. "It will be hard for her not to notice."
"…All the same," Hiroki said, "I will do what I can. I just ask you to refrain from giving her the news."
"…Very well," said Itachi, lying back down, perspiration dampening his forehead. "I'll keep quiet. Tell me when she wakes up, will you? It'll be easier on my conscience…"
His sentence drifted off as he was seized with a desperate slumber. Itachi slumped back down onto the mattress, his breathing difficult, his condition uncomfortable.
"Thank you for taking care of my daughter," said Hiroki solemnly. "I'll let you know when she awakes."
Itachi nodded wearily, his onyx eyes closing. Within a few seconds, sleep claimed him, and, body rendered exhausted with pain, he managed to drift off again, fitfully. Pain mixed with dreams, with guilt in between.
Something was pulsing through her body.
Some power.
Some drainage.
Something harmful…yet helpful. Something paradoxical.
Chakra. Blood. Red and red. Intertwined.
Miho opened her grey eyes, staring straight up above her at a white speckled ceiling. Where was she? What had happened? Memories began to flood back into her head; all she could remember was Itachi saving her from Akira, but then what else? She had collapsed…shamefully enough.
Miho sat up slowly, blinking the dryness out of her eyes as she looked around. It was nighttime, judging from the darkness and the sliver of moonlight drifting into the room. Her father was asleep beside her, his head lain on his arms against the bed, his breathing smooth and deep. Obviously asleep.
And she felt awake. Tired, but awake.
She felt like she'd been in bed for ages, and a sudden desire to stand up and stretch filled her aching limbs. Miho rolled off the mattress, careful not to disturb her father, and tiptoed out of her room. She was most likely back at Konoha…which meant that the mission had probably been completed, with no thanks to her.
Miho paused in the hallway, sensing. Was it just her, or was Itachi's chakra right next to her room?
He couldn't be injured. The Uchiha Itachi, injured enough to be in a hospital? Exactly what had happened after she'd fainted?
Miho resolutely knocked on the door to Itachi's room; she received no answer, but slid the door open anyway, entering the room. He was sleeping on the clean, white bed in the corner of the room. Miho could see that a kunai was on the nightstand right next to the bed, only a foot away from Itachi's hand. Really, he was so prepared.
But something was wrong. His rhythmic breathing much unlike her father's: shallow, uncomfortable, ragged. Was he badly injured?
She approached him, dragging up a chair quietly across the slick tiles and sat down beside him. She was confused. What was going on? Itachi seemed to be in terrible shape; sweat lined his attractive face, dampening his bangs. Miho reached for a metal pan filled with water beside her, wringing out a towel and dabbing it over Itachi's face.
Wait.
What was she doing?
What was she thinking? This was unnecessary.
Why would she be treating Itachi?
But her body moved on its own. Her cool hand brushed against his cheek, lightly, carefully, outlining his cheekbone. What a fine face. Beautiful countenance. Lovely.
And then he awoke.
Perhaps she had touched his skin too roughly, too abruptly, for his eyes just snapped open instantly, already circling with crimson Sharingan. He gripped onto her wrist tightly and sat up quickly, his other hand outstretched and grabbing onto her neck.
"It's me," said Miho hastily, bringing her hand up and trying to pry his grip away from her neck. "It's me, calm down—"
"…Chiaki-san," he said in relief, letting go and leaning back. His eyes turned to their nicer shade of black. "Forgive me—I—"
"It's fine," she said, massaging her neck.
"How are you feeling?" he questioned. "I hope you're all right—"
"I seem to be much better off than you," she said wryly. "Are you all right? What happened? I can't believe I fainted—I don't even know why I did. It was just a flesh wound, nothing to make me lose consciousness."
Itachi's lips thinned into a line, as if he were debating something, but then he spoke.
"The kunai was lined with poison," he said. "There wasn't much we could do about it at the moment, and your constant movement made the poison transfer faster through your body. I managed to finish the mission alone."
"Then why are you so injured?" she asked, rinsing the towel through again because she had to do something with her hands. "I can't imagine that any amount of forces could hospitalize you…"
"I'm not invincible, Chiaki-san. I still had to take care of you, and thus was at quite the disadvantage. I managed to kill Hatori, but we left the village right after that."
"Oh," said Miho, a bit embarrassed. "Sorry…"
"It's not your fault. Everyone lets their guard down a bit on the first mission."
That wasn't a good enough excuse, though, and Miho felt a twinge of guilt as she watched Itachi sit up straighter, groaning with the movement. He was obviously in quite a bit of pain.
"Here," said Miho with uncharacteristic gentleness, easing him back on a pillow so he could sit more comfortably.
"Thanks," he said appreciatively, breathing heavily as he held onto his waist, gritting his teeth. "If you could hand me the towel…"
"I'll do it," she said, wringing it out again and dabbing his perspiring face. "How long have we been back?"
"I woke up earlier this morning," he said, "and my father said we'd been back a week."
"…It took me a week to wake up from simple poison?" she said, stunned.
"…It was…a special kind of poison," said Itachi vaguely, looking away from her.
Something about the way he said it made Miho rather suspicious, but she did not press the subject, taking into account Itachi's condition.
He gave a soft chuckle, and much to Miho's dismay, she felt her heartbeat change erratically upon hearing it.
"You're being…very kind," he remarked, lifting up his head so Miho could trail the towel down his neck. "Guilty, perhaps? If you're this kind every time you screw up a mission, well, I'd rather hope that you could always mess up."
"You can wash yourself now," she said dryly, handing him the towel. "I was feeling rather sorry for you, but it seems like my pity was misplaced."
"I don't need your pity, Chiaki-san," said Itachi, his eyes glinting in amusement. "Though I do rather like your uncharacteristic kindness at the moment."
He leaned his face somewhat close to hers, and Miho unconsciously went pink.
"What are you doing?" she said warily, her voice surprisingly steady.
"After seeing me play the part of the gallant hero, Chiaki-san…do you like me more, perhaps?" There was playful hopefulness in his tone, and it irritated her.
"Not in the slightest," she said evenly, leaning back. "Uchiha, I'm grateful to you for saving me, but I didn't ask for it—"
"Oh, forgive me then," he said with slight mockery. "I wasn't aware that you didn't want to live. Perhaps I really should've let Akira kill you then."
"That wasn't my point," she said coolly.
Itachi did not reply, instead wincing visibly as he began to cough, his hand once again placed over his heart as if trying to stabilize his own heartbeat through some unknown means. Miho, worried, bent forward, only to see Itachi smirk slightly before poking her on the head lightly.
"You are incredibly two-faced," he said, chuckling again as Miho's cheeks went red. "Ah…guilt, and what it does to you…quite amusing, really."
"Go die," said Miho immaturely, throwing the white cloth in his face before standing up. "Go die and rot—why the hell did I even bother coming…"
"It was a joke, Chiaki-san," he said, still smirking as he held on to her wrist, preventing her from leaving. "Stay for a while—I'm bored."
"Amuse yourself," she said frigidly.
"Here I am, Chiaki-san, in a hospital bed with ruptured internal organs because I was too busy protecting you from an onslaught of enemies, and you can't do the slightest as to even keep me company? There are many things I could do to make you pay me back, you know."
"Saving me was your choice; my gratitude is the most you'll get," she said sullenly, though she was already sitting back down on the metal chair.
"And she says one thing, and does another," Itachi said, smiling slightly. "I was thinking about our conversation before we infiltrated the village—I stand by what I said previously. You are attracted to me."
"Why do we have to talk about this?" said Miho incredulously. "I'm only staying here because you just happened to save my life—don't assume you're special all of a sudden, Uchiha."
"I beg to differ, I find that I'm rather…special, as you say. Perhaps special's not the right word. Unique. Different."
"Prodigious is the word you're looking for," she said dryly. "Again, you're taking me too literally."
"So is it this…prodigious part of me that you're attracted to?" he offered.
"Uchiha, for the last time: I'm not attracted to you."
"Really? So let's take the example of someone you're obviously attracted to: Kakashi-san."
"That's enough," said Miho sharply, pushing her chair back and causing a scraping sound to echo in the room. "My patience only goes so far; this is a topic that I evidently want to avoid with you at all costs, Uchiha."
Itachi caught onto her wrist again, but instead of waiting for her to retaliate, he pulled her down swiftly, causing her to fall onto the bed. Before she even had a chance to voice her indignation, he leaned forward, his lips touching hers slightly.
Miho jerked back, blood racing through her head as her cheeks flushed instantaneously to a nameless shade of red; her hand darted out, aiming to connect with the side of the grinning Uchiha's face. It was pathetic; even in his weakened state, he caught her wrist easily.
"What the hell was that for?!" she said furiously, her face crimson. "Y-you…"
She was too flustered, angry, and winded to finish her sentence; all she was aware of was the increasing heat in her cheeks and the awful sense of embarrassment that was beginning to cloud her thoughts. She brought a hand up to her face and looked determinedly away from Itachi, who seemed to be shaking with silent laughter.
"Payback," he said simply, still laughing slightly.
"For what?!"
"For what, you say?" he chortled. "For saving your life, of course. I must say that your first kiss is quite a small price to pay for your life."
"Why are you so…" Miho stood up and yanked the pillow from under Itachi's head, causing him to wince slightly. She slammed it down on his face as hard as she could, relishing the contact as she furiously gazed at his profile. "You're so infuriating! Is this a game to you? Making me angry?! Good for you, because you're doing a great job of winning it; you asshole—"
"All right, all right, I'm sorry," sighed Itachi, catching the pillow finally. "You overreact so easily, Chiaki-san. It was just a kiss."
"I would've never taken you for the flirtatious type," she hissed, grabbing the wash pan and dumping its contents over his head. Itachi barely managed to block the water with the pillow; the mere fact that he had the gall to even bother to protect himself instead of taking his punishment infuriated Miho all the more. She slammed the pan over Itachi's head, hearing the metallic clang reverberate into the air with utterly vindictive satisfaction.
"That hurt," said Itachi dryly, no longer looking so amused as he had been seconds before.
"Freaking—" she said angrily, still hitting him with the metal pan, "asshole—"
Miho must've been making quite the racket, for in no time, the room was filled with nurses and doctors, all trying to restrain her from beating Itachi up any further.
"Ma'am, what in the world are you doing?" a male doctor demanded, holding her back by the wrists. "Why are you attacking a patient?"
"He's not even injured," retorted Miho, shrugging them off easily. "Bastard…"
"Miho, what in the world is going on?" said Hiroki's stern voice behind her. "Why are you attacking Itachi-kun?! He saved your life!"
"Oh-ho, the moment he gets the fuck out of the hospital, he's going to wish with every ounce of his body that he didn't—"
"Miho!" said Hiroki angrily. "Apologize."
"Hell no."
Miho threw her wonderfully sturdy wash pan at Itachi, who blocked it with his drenched pillow.
"She's just upset," said Itachi calmly. "It might be post-traumatic symptoms; don't give her a hard time—"
"Shut the hell up," Miho snapped. "I don't need your protection, Uchiha."
"Miho!" said Hiroki, his face contorting with livid rage.
Miho scoffed, unsurprised that her father was so adamantly siding with Itachi—the bastard, the kiss-stealing flirtatious playboy who enjoyed screwing with her head just because he was bored—oh, if amusement was all Itachi wanted, then by all means, Miho would play the damn game…
She stalked out of the room, slamming the door shut behind her and returning to her own. She could hear her father apologize for the disruption before rejoining her in their room.
"What in the world are you thinking?!" said Hiroki the moment he shut the door. "Itachi-kun saved your life even though he didn't have to—if he hadn't saved your life, the mission would've been finished much quicker—"
"Good to know that the mission was more important than my life," she snapped.
"He saved your life!" Hiroki roared. "The greatest bond in this world between individuals is formed when someone saves your life, Miho—you will forever be indebted to him, and to think that you even had the nerve to show him disrespect—"
"If life worked that way, Otou-san, then all of Konoha would've been kneeling at Okaa-san's feet—but the world doesn't work that way, does it?! Don't expect me to go showing gratitude to Uchiha because you'drather have him for a son!"
Hiroki's palm connected with the side of Miho's face so quickly that she was sent spiraling onto the floor from the force of the blow. She hit the cold ground hard, wincing at the connection, but more winded by what had caused her to fall.
Hiroki pointed a threatening finger at her.
"I'll will not be spoken to like that," he said coldly. "Tomorrow, you will apologize to Itachi for what you've done, and find a way to make it up to him. We hold a great debt to the Uchiha family, Miho, and it would be prudent if you did not offend their greatest heir."
Miho concentrated on a defect in the tiling right to her left. She could not bring herself to look at her father; never, ever had she been hit across the face—by him, by anyone. And the fact that he would so willingly hit her for a stranger, for someone not blood-related…it stunned her. She was hardly angry. She was numb with disbelief.
"Get back to bed," said Hiroki in that same cold tone. "We will go apologize to him first thing in the morning when you wake up."
"We are deeply grateful to Itachi-kun for saving Miho's life," said Hiroki respectfully to Itachi and Fugaku the next morning with a deep bow. "I'm also deeply sorry for Miho's behavior last night…"
His voice trailed off. This was Miho's cue to apologize.
But she wouldn't. She stared at Itachi in stony resolution, her dull silver eyes glinting with fierce coldness. Itachi was the one who looked apologetic, regretful—he seemed to know what had happened the night before.
"Miho," said Hiroki with threatening urgency.
"She doesn't need to apologize," said Itachi. "It was my fault—I…"
"No, Miho, apologize."
"It's all right, Hiroki-sensei," said Fugaku slowly. "Pride is an essential part of the shinobi way; it is understandable if she's unwilling to apologize, especially if part of it may be Itachi's fault. We can let it go."
"Very well," sighed Hiroki, glaring at Miho. "Thank you. Is there any way we can repay you?"
"If Chiaki-san can just continue taking care of Itachi while he's being hospitalized, that would be excellent," said Fugaku. "My wife is busy taking care of Sasuke, and I have a mission starting tomorrow."
"It's fine," said Itachi urgently. "I'll be fine by myself, Otou-san, it's not like—"
"It'd be an honor," said Hiroki. "Miho?"
She knew she was already stretching the line to its finest length. And she knew that she could not press Hiroki's patience any farther.
Her eyes still blazing with icy fury, she nodded stiffly. Relief spread over Hiroki's face, causing another ripple of anger to appear in her chakra levels. Strange, how her chakra was reacting so easily to her emotions now…it must've been obvious, because Itachi winced, having evidently sensed the change in her demeanor.
"Thanks," said Fugaku appreciatively. "You don't need to stay with him all day—it's just for meals and such—"
"You really don't need to if you're busy," said Itachi quickly. "I understand if you have other stuff to do—"
"Miho will probably not be sent on other missions," interrupted Hiroki. "She'll be more than happy to take care of you."
Itachi shot Miho a sincerely apologetic look, but Miho ignored it deliberately. In retrospect, the kiss was a petty thing to be angry over; what was the bigger deal was being hit by her own father. That was something worthy being angry over.
"Again, thanks," said Hiroki. "We'll be leaving now; Itachi-kun, Miho will be joining you later."
"Take your time," he said.
Really. Like she would.
"Miho, the Uchiha clan plays one of the greatest roles in the history of this village," said Hiroki as they prepared lunch together. "They are underappreciated people. You should respect Itachi-kun more."
Miho silently skinned the potatoes.
"He is a good boy who has taken a fair interest to you," continued Hiroki. "If you two were somehow able to become a pair…it'd be good for you."
She began to cut the potatoes into small squares.
"The Uchiha clan saved the entire Saruji clan from the brink of obliteration ten years ago."
Miho froze, knife poised midair.
"Ha," said Hiroki, satisfied. "I thought that'd get your attention."
Miho resumed cutting the potatoes, keenly listening and silently hoping for a continuation to the story.
"Fugaku was testing you when he asked you all the questions about the Ishachi," explained Hiroki. "Of course he knew the properties of the clan he'd saved; he held the Saruji clan in highest regard. The clan wasn't strong offensively, however, and was constantly targeted by warring clans to exterminate them. Ten years ago, and this is before you remember—you were only a child, after all, and your mother had married outside the clan and thus was not too closely affiliated—a neighboring clan attacked the Saruji. The Uchiha managed to save them in the nick of time, and since then, the medical force and police force have been close. Or, at least, until the Saruji clan was wiped out only a few years later by the Kyuubi attack…"
Miho tossed the potatoes into the pot.
"You should be grateful to the Uchihas, Miho," said Hiroki gravely. "They are an extremely powerful force."
Miho stirred the boiling water and its floating ingredients. The delightful aroma of pork, miso, and potatoes filled the tiny kitchen.
"Take care of Itachi well," her father said.
Still thinking of that boy who wasn't even his son. Completely unregretful of slapping her. As if it had been needed.
Miho turned off the stove and covered the pot with its lid, trying to keep some of the heat. She started for the door, and without uttering one word, left.
"You really don't have to do this," said Itachi as she ladled some soup out of the pot. "The hospital staff is more than friendly, and you really don't need to give up so much of your time to treat me, Chiaki-san, I—"
"Uchiha, if you do not shut up, I will pour this down your throat mid-sentence," she said coolly.
Itachi gave a sigh, taking the china bowl she was holding out to him.
"Forgive me for what happened last night," he murmured, accepting a spoon with a nod of thanks. "It was meant as a joke, and it escalated into something unpleasant. I apologize."
Miho sat down on the stool, ladling herself a bowl of soup as well.
"Did you make this?" said Itachi, genuinely impressed. "It's good."
"It's soup," she said crassly. "How much better can it get?"
Itachi let out another breath, letting the spoon swirl to a stop in his soup as he stretched out his right hand, touching her gently on the arm.
"Chiaki-san—"
"Touch me, Uchiha, and I'll cut your fingers off," she said coldly.
He retracted his hands promptly.
"Sorry," he said.
Silence settled over them. Miho fixated her eyes determinedly on her soup, trying not to calm the mass of swirling thoughts in her mind. Just because she was a descendant of the Saruji clan didn't mean she had to be grateful to the Uchihas; just because her father groveled at the feet of the Uchihas didn't mean she had to. And just because Itachi was looking at her with genuine apology didn't mean that she had to forgive him.
But she could feel her heart change and shift just watching that sorry expression through the corner of her eyes.
"What is so great about you?" she asked, finally turning to face him. "I don't see it."
Itachi blinked, looking somewhat relieved at the stimulated conversation.
"Well, I have no idea," he said. "You're the one calling me perfect all the time."
"…True."
She lapsed into silence, thinking deeply.
"Why did you kiss me last night?" she said finally. "I don't understand. If it was a joke, it was ill-placed. If it was for fun…likewise, it was ill-placed."
"I'm not sure myself," said Itachi honestly.
"Are you a playboy?" she said severely.
"No," he answered. "It was just sort of…on the moment."
"On the moment," she repeated icily. "So is that how you lost your first kiss? An on the moment scenario where you kissed a random girl—"
"I suppose so," he intercepted, "because that's sort of what happened last night."
Miho froze.
"Last night was your first kiss too?!" she said disbelievingly. "Are you crazy?! You don't just do that, Uchiha, not to strangers!"
"I don't think you're a stranger," he said, shrugging as he chewed on a potato chunk. "For some reason, I seem to trust you rather easily—or perhaps it's just your naivety. For example…" He lifted up a spoonful of soup. "I didn't even bother checking to see if you'd poisoned this or not, even though you probably had good reason to."
"I wouldn't kill you," said Miho acidly. "Then I'd have all of Konoha after me for killing the hero."
"That is a likely scenario."
Miho gave a wry smile and ladled out another bowl.
"Seconds?" she asked.
"Please."
There was silence again as she worked. Miho was keenly aware that Itachi's eyes were watching her. She could not help but become flustered.
"Uchiha," she said abruptly, setting her bowl down to look at him.
He blinked rapidly, looking taken back, as if he had been snapped out of a reverie.
"Yes?" he said warily.
"What do you think of me?" she questioned.
"…Think…of you?" he repeated, looking rather confused.
"Yes," she said exasperatedly. "Think of me."
"…Rephrase the question, please," he said politely.
Miho rolled her eyes, trying to ignore the slight tingeing of her cheeks.
"Fine. Uchiha. Do you like me?"
Miho didn't know what to expect of his answer. She didn't know what she wanted out of it either. But a little, tiny part of her heart accelerated. It palpitated quickly.
Strange.
She was feeling hopeful.