Itachi stared at the river listlessly. It had been five years since he had first arrived in the Soul Society. So much had happened in that short amount of time. He closed his eyes, venturing back into his memories to find the exact moment where everything changed.
It was the hunger.
Getting hungry in a world where one is not supposed to get hungry. Miss Megumi nearly had a heart attack when he had suddenly collapsed one day while they were searching for herbs for Megumi to sell. He still remembered the earful he had received from the frail woman about making her worry. She then explained that the hunger meant he had high spirit energy, which meant that he could potentially become a Soul Reaper one day. Itachi vehemently opposed the very idea; he was through with fighting and wanted to lead at least a somewhat peaceful life. Since that day, most of Megumi's earnings were used to buy food so Itachi wouldn't die—again—of starvation.
It wasn't long after that when the woman died. She had explained that when souls died, they were supposedly reincarnated into the World of the Living. He couldn't remember how much he stared at the small shack she owned. Death was fleeting and unexpected. Once it happens, it seems unreal. The ones you care for vanish, like a dream upon waking.
Itachi had fended for himself from then on. Living in Inuzuri was tough. One often had to resort to theft and trickery to get what they needed. Although his days as a shinobi had long passed, his body retained its experience from that time. He often found himself wandering the streets of Inuzuri aimlessly, pick-pocketing those who were too stupid to notice. It was one day after another; the same senseless struggle to survive in the dump that was District seventy-eight.
Itachi exhaled as he opened his eyes. Judging from the sun's position in the sky and the stiffness of his legs, he had been standing in the same position for hours. The Uchiha readjusted his dark grey kimono sleeves and began walking toward the market street. It was his daily chore to steal food or money and he hated it with a passion. It made him feel pitiful. As he walked, he kept his eyes open for potential victims who could-
Itachi blinked. He then rubbed his eyes to make sure he wasn't seeing things.
Lying in the middle of the street was a boy. His bright red hair contrasted greatly with the rest of his surroundings, which made it difficult to not notice him. The child was lying face down in the dirt, unmoving and only the slight movement of his torso was the only indication that he was still alive. Itachi's long-repressed "big brother" instincts were screaming at him to do something and help the child. He rushed up to the kid, turning him over on his back and examining him. He was skinny from malnourishment and dirt was smudged over every visible inch of his body. The child's expression was twisted, hurting from exhaustion and hunger. He looked no older than six.
Itachi was greatly reminded of Sasuke. This was a child. He shouldn't be lowered to thieving and running around in the dirt to survive. He should have a family to take care of him; to love him and to be companions to him. Yet, fate was determined to be cruel to children like Sasuke no matter where they grew up. Forced to grow up to survive, destroying their innocence with the reality of life. That was no way to live.
Itachi took the child into his arms. He would not allow that to happen again. Never. He had destroyed Sasuke's childhood because of the actions of the Uchiha clan as well as the orders from Danzo. Here in Inuzuri, there was nothing that held him back. There were no elders to order him around and no rules that needed to be followed. There was no one stopping him from helping this child other than himself.
As Itachi made his way back to his "home", he began pondering his decision. The question was whether or not he could take care of the child and if the kid even wanted to be looked after. He was having enough trouble trying to survive on his own. With his decently high—and steadily growing—spirit energy, Itachi had to steal food almost daily just to keep up his strength for the week. Add a kid onto that and Itachi would have to use more drastic measures—measures he did not want to resort to—to get the supplies he needed. He shook his head. If things did happen that way, let them. He was capable of killing if need be, but only in self-defense or if he had no choice.
He soon arrived at his small shack that he took ownership of once Megumi passed. He laid the small child on the rugged futon, covering him up with a blanket so he could rest. Itachi then went to get some food he had stored away for himself whenever he got hungry. Taking some bread and some taiyaki, he went back to the unconscious child. Itachi closed his eyes before reopening them, his irises scarlet red instead of coal black.
He was still able to use his Sharingan and all the jutsus he had learned when he was alive. Although his body was technically a soul and made up of spirit energy now, it was still a physical body and he could still move and work his bodily functions. As such, he was still able to access the physical energy that was required when controlling chakra. Deeming it as an unexpected addition to his high spirit energy, he decided to practice with his jutsus every now and then so he wouldn't get rusty should he ever need to use them. In a similar manner to seeing chakra, he discovered that the Sharingan could gauge the spirit energy of the individuals around him. What he saw in the child startled him.
The boy had a chakra system. Not once in the five years Itachi had spent in Inuzuri had he seen anyone else like him where the individual had any sort of chakra flow. Not until today, that is. The flow was steady, which indicated that the system was matured and available for use to the user. Whether if the kid had known that he could manipulate chakra or not remained to be seen. Perhaps before he died, the boy was training to become a shinobi. That was the most logical explanation.
Itachi also noticed that the redhead's spirit energy was low due to constant hunger, but he could see that his reserves were capable of being high despite being so young. With proper nourishment and training, he could potentially become a Soul Reaper one day.
Itachi inwardly scoffed. The residents of Rukongai praised the Soul Reapers highly and they rightly deserved the title "death gods" due to the dangerous work that they performed. But anytime he saw one in Inuzuri, he felt nothing but contempt for them. The Soul Reapers he saw abused their power and they took unfair advantage over the poor residents who were struggling to get by. As much as he wanted to interfere when a situation like that came up, he bottled his emotions in and put a tight cork on them. It wasn't his business and he did not need to draw attention to himself when he was attempting to live a peaceful life.
Deactivating his Sharingan, Itachi knelt down and lightly tapped the boy's cheek with his hand. The kid's face contorted for a few seconds before stirring from his dreamless sleep. The boy opened his eyes, revealing bright chocolate brown irises. They zeroed in on Itachi, instantly narrowing in contempt.
