DiSCERN (Naruto Fanfic)

Chapter Ten.

During his time in the academy, Itsuki stood out among his peers for his unique interest in Fuuinjutsu. 

It was an art not many dabbled in, and after the fall of Uzushio, the only one knowledgeable enough about the skill to master it was Uzumaki Kushina, one of the last of her kind.

No one could pursue it, simply because there were no teachers.

But Itsuki studied it anyways, simply because he was interested. And as word spread, Orochimaru took an interest in him and scooped him out of the crowd.

He would not be the first of the Sannin to lead a disciple.

Itsuki remembers his time with Orochimaru-sensei very well. He spent every day of the week buried in books.

Sometimes, he'd find himself in Big Sis Kushina's house for dinner and late night study session, or Master Jiraiya would nab him in the mornings before he even woke up-- he's had to stop Manda from crushing houses more times than he could count, simply because Orochimaru's one solution to retrieving his kid was apparently "eat those darn kidnappers with a gigantic snake".

He remembers thinking that those days were fun.

"You will be the Serow," Lord Hokage had bequited him an ANBU title-- and it was an unexpected one. "A lone deer."

Itsuki never asked why he was given the name.

Like the Cursed Seal that marred the large of his back, and the scales that ate through his neck, he had expected to be given the mask of the Snake.

In a way, he was grateful.

He was grateful that, despite his expertise in Fuuinjutsu, no one ever asked for his help in the production and distribution of seals. No one asked why he put up a henge he never tore down, because they knew that the only thing that lay under the disguise was monstrosity Itsuki never showed the world.

Like Anko, Itsuki was simply Orochimaru's test subject.

They all understood his decision to never hold the pen again.

-

Travelling back in time, Itsuki realizes that these guys still didn't understand. They knew the Itsuki that tore through the hardest papers and ran through bottles of ink like it was nothing.

They knew the Itsuki who was obsessed with the study of seals, they knew the Itsuki who honed his sensory and ninja skills simply so he could sneak into restricted parts of the library for more books to study.

They knew the Itsuki who didn't know pain.

They knew the Itsuki who still loved Fuuinjutsu.

-

"If you were to travel back in time, would you do something about all the mistakes you've ever made in your life?" Itsuki asks, speaking to Minato and Kakashi. "Would you avoid your misfortunes and run from the suffering you know will come?"

He sits at the kitchen table, knowing food is in front of him. His hands hover around for the cutlery, slowly easing around to the bowl.

Minato takes a moment to answer. Itsuki doesn't know if he's staring, or if he's even stopped eating to acknowledge the question.

There was something about total darkness that made Itsuki close his eyes, not because of the light, but simply because the realization that his eyes don't work don't work don't work still takes him in a frustrating, irritating way.

"I would try and make my mistakes into successes," he says, and there's a wise undertone to his voice he usually doesn't use, "but my misfortunes-- I will leave them be because they've made me what I am."

Itsuki bites his cheek, looking away. He isn't quite happy with that answer.

Minato wouldn't understand. He wouldn't understand how odd it was for Itsuki, who has lived his days cursed by his own passions-- Minato wouldn't understand.

Anyone would tell Itsuki to abandon it.

He's finally, finally free from the curse. He finally breathes, lives, and smells like a human. Why should he work to get it back onto him?

(What if he could get it again, but this time without the repercussions?)

Orochimaru had used him as a prototype for his semi-immortality. Itsuki was nowhere near being immortal-- he ended up being cursed with the warped form of something that wasn't quite a snake, wasn't quite human, and it corroded him slowly from within.

(But it made him stronger. It made his senses stronger. It gave him the ability to see in the darkness and sense intruders from their movements. It gave him extra sensory organs.)

Itsuki hated that power.

(But it was the power that granted him his standards as an ANBU Sensor.)

Kakashi interrupts his thinking with a snort. "If time traveling was a possibility, I'd train harder so none of that can ever even happen," he says, confidence booming from his voice alone. If Itsuki could see, perhaps he would see Kakashi glancing disdainfully at his father's photograph, mouth full of food. "Why else would I go back in time?"

Itsuki isn't too sure why he smiles.

(He misses this.)

(Kakashi changes after the consequent deaths of his comrades-- but one part of him, the stubborn part of him that cheers Itsuki up in any situation-- that never changed.)

"You're right," Itsuki resigns himself, "it's a dumb question, isn't it?"

He opens his eyes. It's not any brighter, but he lifts his bowl carefully to his mouth and drinks in the warm miso soup, because it's the taste of home he hasn't had in years.

It's the taste of the miso soup he shared with Kakashi all those years ago and now he finds himself in.

(If only I tried harder that time. If only I tried harder to stop Orochimaru.)

(If only I tried harder to train. If only I was stronger.)

(It's not an if only anymore.)

"Well, I guess I'll just have to try harder now," he says, a sort of resolve in his voice, "I'll need to work on my chakra control, and in between that if I can learn how to write blind I can get back to studying seals and--"

"Itsuki, I think you need to work on not working into walls first."

"Oh, c'mon, Kakashi-niisan, you ruin the mood of everything!"