The Way of the Wind

The Fine Line

Chapter 4: The Fine Line

18 Years Ago
Uchiha Compound

Six-year-old Itachi was not supposed to be snooping. His ka-chan had made it very clear that there was a difference between 'snooping,' which was what naughty children did, and 'sneaking' which was what good shinobi did.

Unfortunately, the details between what was snooping and what was sneaking had gotten a little blurred. He'd been kept so very busy lately; he'd hardly seen his ka-chan at all. His oto-chan had been taking him on rounds, giving him special training, and having him demonstrate his abilities to the clan elders. His oto-chan was very proud.

Itachi probably wasn't supposed to know that this was all in preparation for him to graduate the Academy by his next birthday, but after all, he was a genius. He really didn't see the big deal. He was advanced far beyond the other trainees. It only made sense for him to graduate. After all the rest of his class was so. Unbearably. Slow.

He was supposed to be outside, practicing his kunai throwing. His oto-chan had drilled into him that the basics were just as important as more advanced jutsu. It was the basics that would someday save his life, his oto-chan said. His oto-chan was a jounin, and the head of Konoha's police department. His oto-chan knew what he was talking about. So Itachi was willing to practice again and again until his movements became as reflexive as breathing.

But he had seen his ka-chan and his oto-chan talking in the window. It had been so long since he'd talked to his ka-chan. Itachi launched one more perfect round of kunai at the post before sneaking - not snooping - into the house.

His parents were in the kitchen. He wanted to just walk in, but oto-chan would be upset that he was not out practicing what he had mastered months ago. Instead, he hid in an alcove so he could watch. If he couldn't talk to his ka-chan, then he could at least listen, right? It wasn't snooping.

"No," his ka-chan said in that firm, calm tone she had used when explaining to him that there was more than one way to learn. He had been three. She had taken the remnants of the butterfly from his fingers and taken his hand and led him out onto a field. There had been dozens of butterflies. Ka-chan had instructed him to sit and watch. He had asked her how this would help him discover how they flew. She had asked him if tearing off their wings had taught him anything. Itachi had paid closer attention to the flying after that.

"Mikoto, you can't baby him. Itachi is a genius the likes of which will stamp the Uchiha name into history. He deserves to be given this chance."

"Itachi is a six year old boy. He deserves to be given the chance to develop into a man. More than that, he is my. son. He is not a weapon, Fugaku, he is not a tool for Uchiha glory, he is my son."

His oto-chan placed his hand on the island where his ka-chan was setting up vegetables for the night's dinner. "He's my son too, Mikoto. I'm his father. I am only concerned with what is best for him."

His ka-chan laughed, and he'd never heard a sound quite like it before. When his ka-chan laughed around him, it was light and made his heart light too. This sound was harsh; clanging like that time Matsumoto Kuto had dropped all his kunai on the pavement. "You just told me you wanted my six year old son to graduate from the Academy next year. At seven, he'd be a genin, at ten; he'd be a chunin - maybe even ANBU. And you have the audacity to tell me that you're concerned with what's best with him? Fugaku, listen to yourself."

"Itachi is a genius. He can handle the responsibility."

"Itachi is a genius. This isn't about whether or not he'd be competent. We both know he exceeds every expectation as a shinobi. This is about Itachi. It is not right to force that sort of mental and moral stress on someone who is not developmentally prepared for it. No amount of intelligence and skill can compensate for time and experience. You are not taking that away from my son."