Naruto : Monsters: Chapter 10

Yeah, I was probably going to get into a lot of trouble for this but the sheer satisfaction I felt made whatever punishment I'd receive worth it. 

It was a good thing that I was still technically a six-year-old kid so the consequences wouldn't actually be too serious compared to what it would have been had I been older, but it certainly didn't help make things any better between our clans.

...

Not that it mattered. If things followed the original timeline then the Uchiha Clan was about to get wiped up soon so there wasn't any point in playing nice with them.

Ignoring Sasuke for a moment, who still kept staring at me as if I were a raging lunatic, I turned to the gates and spotted Kou from where he stood along with the other parents, with Neji still by his side.

Kou lifted his hand away from his face, a red palm print marking his cheek from how hard he had facepalmed, before he spared a quick and wistful glance at the flask on his belt. I was told that he had only begun drinking after he was assigned to me, and now refused to go anywhere without taking a flask of the stuff along.

Neji just let out a sigh and shook his head. Yeah, out of everyone I knew Neji has always been the least fazed by my antics. I guess getting a lot of first-hand experience over the years would do that to you.

I then looked past them towards the rest of the parents, or should I say one particular pair of parents. Fugaku, the patriarch of the Uchiha, and with his normally soft natured wife were both levelling their best glares at me. 

But for all of their efforts to turn me to ash with their eyes alone, neither one of them held a candle to look of smouldering rage that the teenage boy who stood beside them was giving me.

And oh my god it was Itachi!

The young and newly minted ANBU Captain was standing there along with his parents, no doubt taking time away from work to see his brother off at his first day at the Academy. He was dressed up in his usual grey pants and black shirt, his clan symbol no doubt sewed on its back, and, if the look that he was sending my way was anything to go by, he was furious.

Over the years I had gotten into my share of fights. Most of them were not even my fault. Children tended to react badly when someone much younger surpasses them, and many tried to take their frustration out on me by attempting to 'teach me my place'. 

Though I admit that the responsibility for some fights rested solely on my own feet, usually when I got bored and did something exceedingly stupid. Case in point.

After a time I had begun to notice a kind of unwritten rule that the adults all seemed to follow when it came to dealing with children fighting, at least those training to be ninjas. Stay out of it until it was over or someone was about to get hurt.

Children tended to fight. Children gathered in large groups tended to fight a lot. Children training to be fighters and killers gathered in a large group tended to fight a lot more. Stopping it was impossible. 

Splitting the kids up only meant they'd end up fighting even harder the next time they saw each other, having had time for their anger to stew and grow, and next time there may not be a conveniently placed adult nearby to stop them. 

And when said kids had training on how to kill each other, that was a receipt for disaster.

So a kind of unwritten rule had formed – let them sort it out among themselves.

A child's quarrel was just that, children quarrelling, it happens all the time and there was no need to make a bigger deal out of it than what it was. So long as it doesn't get out of hand and no one gets seriously hurt, we were expected to deal with it ourselves, with no direct interference or help from adults until after the fight was over.

I suppose when training children to become killers, fights breaking out were unavoidable. At times I had even wondered if they actually encouraged fights to break out, perhaps even seeing it as a type of training.

That didn't mean the kids would get away unpunished for fighting. They did, but it was only after they had sorted it all out.

So the elder two Uchiha hesitated, unsure if they should intervene in what should have rightfully been their youngest son's fight or keep out of it. What was most likely stopping them from acting was their concern over both their Clan and their son's reputation.

To protect Sasuke from me was tantamount to publicly admitting that he needed protection from me, that he was inferior to the Hyuuga child. And I'm pretty sure both of our clans' would rather lick the dirt off a beggar's feet than admit that they were ever inferior in any way to the other.

However, the youngest of the three did not share their hesitation.

Whether it was his age that gave him some leeway or, more likely, that he simply didn't give a damn about reputation when it came to protecting his brother, he swiftly made his way to me, and before I knew it Uchiha Itachi was standing before me, placing himself between his brother and me. 

All the while he stared down at me with those crimson orbs of his as they lazily spun in their sockets.

Say what you would about the Uchiha Scion, but Itachi was one scary son of a bitch when he wanted to be as I was beginning to learn first hand. I wasn't ashamed to admit I was about to shit my pants when I found myself on the other end of those cold eyes.

I...did not think this through, did I?

So in a fit of fear and self-preservation, I threw away whatever pride I had left in me and reached for the only weapon I had-

Fanboying.

Itachi opened his mouth, probably to reprimand me or even to warn me off about ever hitting his brother again, but before he could get so much as a word in, I acted.

I dropped down onto both of my knees before him and held my arms wide open "My lord!" I yelled out with honest joy as I tapped into the memories of embarrassing preteen years and channelled my old self. "I cannot begin to tell you how happy and honoured I am to finally meet you. I am your biggest fan!"

The Sharingan, one of the most powerful ocular bloodlines in existence, grants it's user a clarity of perception that allows you to notice even the most minute of details, among many other of its unique abilities.

But there was no such thing as a perfect technique. Every move, every jutsu, no matter how sublime, had a flaw that could be exploited. And one of the Sharingan's flaws was that it always showed the truth. 

Those eyes did not lie, with their ability to see through any deception, genjutsu or otherwise, they could not be lied to, so everything it showed you was the truth, no matter how much you wished it wasn't.

Itachi's skill with the Sharingan was legendary, his mastery over the eyes granted him the ability to spot any lie, even one told by the most talented and well-trained of liars. 

So simply by looking at me, he knew, beyond any doubt that in spite of how far-fetched I was behaving, I was being completely serious with him. The look of worship I was giving him was not an act, but rather the genuine article.

I have to tell you, the look of pure shock on his usually stoic face was priceless.

His loss of composure only lasted for a brief second before he quickly regained control of himself and his expression returned back to normal. "What are you doing?"

"What am I doing?" I parroted, cocking my head to the side before glancing down at myself. I smacked myself on my forehead when I understood. "Oh, you're right! What am I thinking?"

I quickly rose up to my feet and, while he tried to hide it, I could clearly see the relief on his face. For Itachi, the Uchiha Heir, having me, the Hyuuga Heir, kneel down before him, in public no less, must have been surreal. 

This was probably as far out from his comfort zone he could get and his relief that the situation was finally approaching something normal again was almost palatable.

That was at least until I spun in place to face the opposite direction before dropping to my knees again.

"…What are you doing?" he repeated again, no longer even trying to hide his bewilderment. Though I could no longer see him I had no doubt that his mask slipped off again.

"I'm unworthy to even look in your general direction my lord," I explained and lowered my head in respect.

...

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