So, step one of making it back into ninjahood: let's not walk into any walls this morning!
Itsuki knocks his head into the door, the doorknob jabbing into his ribs. He chokes, and doubles over in agony, coughing.
Let's try that again.
"What did the door ever do to you?" Kakashi chides.
Itsuki shrieks, no I didn't, "how long have you been there?"
Kakashi doesn't reply, and Itsuki's face heats up. He stands up again, and this time, he extends his chakra externally-- and feels Kakashi's chakra pulse back in resonance.
"Itsuki-kun," Minato's voice comes in from behind, the door open in a sort of surprise, "who taught you to do that?"
Itsuki freezes. Had he not learned it yet by this time? Dammit-- he can't say it was Orochimaru... Who was a great sensor he knew?
"Mom," he replies, almost juttingly as he spoke the moment the answer came to him. He fears it may have sounded unnatural, but the answer itself made Minato clutch tighter onto the doorknob, a creaking noise barely audible.
"...is that so?" Minato says, a little guilt permeating his voice-- "to think you were hiding something like this all this while."
Itsuki flusters. "I-- I never actually tried, but," he has to think up a reason, a proper reason why and how he would be using his mom's technique three years down the hill, "I just, remembered that she did this before and I-- I've been trying to imitate her?"
The last bit sounded like a question.
He swallows, and stands still.
Then Minato laughs, "I'm not reprimanding you," he clarifies, and a hand drops onto the boy's head, lightly ruffling the black locks, "I just think it's amazing. Your endurance needs work, but your handling and chakra control is worthy of a Jounin-level technique."
Itsuki stands, stunned-- unable to help the brightness in his features at the compliment.
"Only in chakra handling, though," Kakashi says, unnecessarily eager to ruin good moods, "everything else sucks."
Itsuki threw a pillow in his vague direction. He's not too sure where it ended up but it did not sound like it hit Kakashi. Dammit.
It wasn't as if he had gained his capabilities from the future-- perhaps it was the countless years of work and experience as an ANBU that told him the most efficient ways to mold and thin out chakra.
Minato may have exaggerated a little, though. But it doesn't matter. He has to keep his personal morale high or he won't get anywhere.
-
And now, the moment he's dreaded.
"Itsuki-kun, I'll go open the door, so stay right here."
Itsuki wants to get up and bolt into his room but unfortunately he can't see where he's going, he's not too sure which chair of the dining table he's on, and he doesn't know his old house's structure enough to know how to get around on his own.
Curse you, faulty time travel.
He still hasn't figured out how or why he's back here without his sight, but he can't find time to rationalise the situation. Too much is going on around him-- he shouldn't overcomplicate it.
His injuries from the last time-- did they carry over? Not precisely. His wounds were from shards of a pot. Light scratches and a miraculously decent concussion.
No, that couldn't have ended in just a concussion. Did Itsuki die?
Is that it? He died, and so his spirit came back as a younger version of him? No, that wouldn't make sense. Was there a seal spell on that pot that Itsuki had never seen?
(But if there was, Minato or Kakashi would've told him.)
(What if it was a seal inscribed into the clay work? Then Minato and Kakashi wouldn't notice it... and its shattered, too. It may have faded already. Ah, darn.)
"Itsuki?"
He flinches at the voice.
It's a soft, mellow voice, with just a little hoarseness at the edge of every word. Warm, cold, and--
"O- Orochimaru!" He addresses the man with a squeak, then hastily tacked on, "...sensei!"
There's a moment of silence. He's dripping with cold sweat.
Why isn't anyone talking, is anyone actually in front of him? Is he looking in the right direction? (He looks down at Pakkun in his lap, holding it tight.) Or did he say it too early and Orochimaru didn't hear him?
"Uh, Orochimaru-san, Itsuki-kun can't see you, so you should say something."
"Eh? Ah, is that so..." wait, why did he sound so flustered? "Uhm, it has been a while, Itsuki."
The confusion made his nerves lift slightly, and curiosity took over.
His image of Orochimaru, after many years had warped into one of a monster. A low, raspy voice, a hissing noise not unlike the ones he hears in his nightmares--
Was this really Orochimaru? Not being able to see his face might be the fault, but he really doesn't sound anything like him at all.
He simply blinks-- and stares at the nothing that's probably the general direction of Orochimaru, and he doesn't say anything.
He extends his chakra.
The energy around him is prickly, like someone's nervous.
He no longer has scales on his skin, so he couldn't sense heartbeats anymore. But somehow, from the jittery pulse of chakra, he knows that someone's heart is beating rapidly in this room.
"Psst, Orochimaru-san, I think he's confused, so you should say something else."
He can hear the flustered splutter Orochimaru makes, a disgraceful, very out-of-character "huh, like what? I don't-- Minato-kun--"
And Itsuki laughs.
Because what is this.
The great, serpent sage Orochimaru-dono is stumbling over his words like a nervous school girl? For the first time in his life, Itsuki wished he could see Orochimaru's face right now.
(Even if something so deep and hot inside of him still screams and screams, I hate you, I'll never forgive you, you should die--)
"Look, now he's just laughing at you," Minato sighed.
A hand is on Itsuki's head now. It's cold, but somehow, the touch is warm. Orochimaru's hand is a little smaller and thinner than Minato's-- that's the only way he can really tell the difference.
For some reason, Itsuki doesn't shove it away.
He lets it stay there, and closes his eyes to really take it in.
"Orochimaru-sensei," the calling is strange on his tongue, and it takes effort just to say it out as it is-- but Itsuki says it anyway, "it has truly been a while since we've last met." Much longer than you think. "I hope you have been doing well."
He feels Orochimaru's gaze on him, and although it doesn't weigh with animosity, his fists tighten in wariness.
(It's not him. It's not that him. He's not trying to kill you. He's not trying to kill you anymore. It's the Orochimaru you loved. It's the Orochimaru you used to love.)
Minato and Kakashi's chakra presence slowly leaves the room, but Itsuki knows they linger nearby. He lets Pakkun jump off his lap and trot away, though he's a little reluctant that his comfort animal is now tired of playing plush toy.
He feels Orochimaru crouch down before him, hands held in his-- and he lets out a shaky breath.
(He's so close. He's so close. He's so close. He's too close.)
"I'm really sorry for all that, Itsuki, you must have been frightened," Orochimaru says, and his voice is impossibly calm, "something must truly have gone wrong with the seal we tested out that night. It was my oversight, and I hope you can forgive me."
...Huh?
A seal tested out the night before-- the night before of like, a few decades ago, right? No, Itsuki had absolutely no idea nor recollection of it. Understandable, since he had purged himself of all trauma-triggering memories anyways...
He wants to deny what Orochimaru said, because yeah maybe it's not his fault at all and Itsuki should really tell him that-- but he can't say it.
Because it really is Orochimaru's fault everything became like this. It's his fault that Itsuki is blinded, broken, torn, and defenseless.
(Because Orochimaru ruins everything.)
"It's okay," he instead says. (What do you mean it's okay? It's not.) "Orochimaru-sensei had warned me about the dangers many times. It is my stubborn streak that caused this-- my eyes are a fair price to pay for this."
(Why are you trying to reassure him?)
"I'm sorry that I cannot help you in furthering seal studies any more... at least, until I have completed my rehabilitation. I'm sure there will be ways for me to continue learning under your tutelage..."
"Don't worry about that, Itsuki," Orochimaru speaks over him, like a hasty father that can't believe his son is being this utterly stupid, "focus on recovering, everything else comes later."
Itsuki smiles back.
(Like hell you can talk anything about my priorities right now.)
Why was the voice in his head so hateful, he wonders. Why was his body such a pacifist, it argues back.
He feels Orochimaru's fingers rub over his own, and it's a little soothing despite everything. Cold fingers against warm fingers. The space in between them is just right.
"Can I really..." he mumbles, more to himself, "really still be your student?"
It meant so much more than Orochimaru heard.
(Can I still be the Itsuki that loves Orochimaru? Can I still be the Itsuki of the past, who simply headed on with a heart full of passion? Can I still be the Itsuki who went on doing exactly what he wanted to do, not thinking of the consequences because that was his ninja way?)
"Of course you can, Itsuki," Orochimaru tells him, and a weight in his heart lifts even knowing the meaning wasn't the same, "I wouldn't lose you for anyone else."
Orochimaru didn't know anything. This Orochimaru didn't do anything to deserve what Itsuki is hating him for.
Itsuki's dreamed of this. The day Orochimaru would just turn over a new leaf, coming back to him and to Anko like the man they both loved like a father. But a dream was a dream-- things like that didn't happen in real life.
So he settled on despising him. He lived his life focused on revenge for the curse that corroded his body, each day he lived in chronic pain that fueled his desire for vengeance.
He was no better than the defected Uchiha Sasuke, and that was all Orochimaru's fault. Everything about him was Orochimaru's goddamn fault.
(He hated him so much.)
But he still loved his Orochimaru-sensei, and that was the undeniable truth.