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[NUT] Chapter : 15
🕑 Added 2025-05-28 10:36:51 +0000 UTCDespite their brisk pace, Itachi and Juzo finally made it back to the Hidden Rain Village.
Trailing behind Juzo to report to Pain, Itachi felt a flicker of unease. But he forced himself to remain composed.
It wasn’t fear or apprehension about Pain’s power. Rather, it was curiosity—he wondered if he could cast a subtle genjutsu trigger on Pain. But the thought quickly faded. Knowing Pain’s body was merely a puppet and that he wielded the Rinnegan, Itachi lost interest. There was no point in trying.
Later, the pair met with Kakuzu to hand over the bounty.
While Juzo discussed the transaction, Itachi stood silently behind him, like a ghost—blending perfectly into the background.
As they walked through the ever-damp streets of the Rain Village, drizzled in its constant haze, Juzo spoke quietly.
“Want to grab a bite?”
“Nah,” Itachi replied, shaking his head. “We’ve been traveling for days. I’d rather clean up and sleep.”
Food didn’t appeal to him right now. Rest did.
“Alright,” Juzo said without protest, giving a small wave before veering off toward a tavern, clearly intent on getting a drink.
Itachi continued through the rain-soaked streets, heading for his room.
Knowing the rain itself was tied to Pain’s jutsu—an extension of his surveillance—Itachi didn’t linger. The sensation of being watched clung to him like a second skin.
Back in his quarters, he took a long, hot bath and collapsed into bed. Compared to the wilderness, the feel of an actual mattress was heavenly.
Knock, knock, knock...
The sound broke through his peaceful slumber. Groggy, Itachi blinked at the ceiling, dazed.
The sun was already up—he’d slept through the entire night.
The knocking came again, sharper and more impatient.
“…Coming.”
He dragged himself out of bed, stretched out his stiff limbs, and washed up before answering the door.
“You’re here early,” Itachi said flatly as he opened the door—only to be hit with the unmistakable smell of alcohol.
“New mission,” Juzo grunted, unimpressed by Itachi’s sleepiness.
Without waiting for an invitation, he strode in and grabbed the teapot off the table, gulping it down like water.
Itachi frowned slightly. No cup, no hesitation—just lips on the spout.
It wasn’t exactly hygienic, but knowing they'd be gone soon and the room would be reset by staff, he let it go.
“Are we heading the wrong way?” Itachi asked, watching Juzo march straight out of the village.
“I already got the mission details,” Juzo replied coolly, clearly aware of Itachi’s question before he’d even asked it.
“Oh.”
That explained why they weren’t stopping to see Pain. The information had already been passed on.
“So what’s the target?” Itachi asked, more out of boredom than interest.
“Money.”
Juzo didn’t even turn around as he answered.
Itachi sighed. He should’ve expected that.
At this point, it felt like Akatsuki's only real objective was funding—always another bounty, another mission for cash.
Having spent the night drinking, Juzo wasn’t in the mood to talk. So Itachi simply walked alongside him in silence.
By nightfall, they ate some dry rations, and Juzo promptly collapsed into deep sleep.
Itachi took first watch, observing his teammate with mild curiosity.
He’d expected Juzo to crash hours ago, given the lack of rest and the booze. But somehow, the man held out until nightfall.
For someone like Itachi, who preferred pacing himself and conserving energy, this was… unsettling. It added a strange tension to their dynamic, and he wasn’t sure how to address it.
Itachi stayed up, practicing quietly into the late hours of the night. When he saw Juzo sleeping like a corpse, he decided not to wake him.
Instead, he summoned two shadow clones to stand guard and leaned against a tree, drifting into a light sleep.
No words were exchanged for the rest of the night.
By morning, Itachi stirred to the smell of fresh meat.
Juzo was already up, having skinned a few small animals and laid them out on large leaves beside the campfire. He was quietly whittling away at a wooden carving, fully focused.
“You’re up,” he said, his voice calm—almost like a gentle greeting.
“Mm.” Itachi yawned, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
He stood up, shook out his numb legs, and rotated his shoulders and back.
“Ugh, sleeping rough always messes up my spine…”
A few quick chakra pulses helped ease the soreness, and he exhaled softly, welcoming the new day.
Juzo rolled his eyes in response to Itachi’s sigh, clearly uninterested in continuing the conversation.
Still, watching how quickly Itachi recovered his energy, Juzo couldn’t help but feel a little bitter.
“Youth really is a gift…” he muttered with a soft, wistful sigh.
“You’re not so bad yourself,” Itachi replied casually, poking fun. “Even after a sleepless, drunken night, you still managed to march all day without collapsing.”
The words stung. Juzo’s expression darkened slightly, and Itachi couldn’t help but find the reaction amusing.
Smirking to himself, Itachi began prepping the small animals Juzo had caught, efficiently skewering and roasting them over the fire.
Soon, the savory aroma of grilled meat filled the air, lifting their spirits.
“Want a few sips?” Juzo offered, producing a fresh bottle of sake and speaking in a rare, gentle tone.
“You're drinking today too…” Itachi replied, raising an eyebrow.
Though mildly exasperated by Juzo’s growing fondness for alcohol, Itachi recalled that the man’s sake was surprisingly good. He nodded in agreement.
“You’ll get it when you’re older,” Juzo said with a mysterious air, as though imparting some age-old wisdom.
“Oh please,” Itachi replied dryly, playing along. “Back when I was seven, I had girls bringing me snacks and lunches every day.”
A heavy silence settled over the campfire.
Juzo stared at him, dumbfounded, then glanced at Itachi’s undeniably handsome face—and remained quiet.
He downed another gulp of sake in silence. No words were needed.
“…Was she pretty?”
Breaking the stillness, Itachi took the cup Juzo passed him and sipped lightly, his voice calm.
“Yeah,” Juzo replied without thinking. Then, as if catching himself, he fell quiet again.
“Don’t worry,” Itachi said with a subtle grin. “Sure, you may not be much to look at—but with your charming personality, someone’s bound to fall for your inner beauty eventually.”
“Shut up.”
Juzo glared at him, clearly even more depressed now.
But Itachi wasn’t finished.
“Listen, I’ve studied all kinds of relationship theories. With just a few tricks, I could totally help you win her over.”
Juzo raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh? And how many people have you dated?”
“…Well, I’m still a little too young for that,” Itachi admitted awkwardly, momentarily caught off guard.
In truth, between his past and present lives, he hadn’t been in a real relationship. But armed with knowledge from countless romance guides, he still spoke with confidence—theory over experience, after all.
“Tch…”
Juzo scoffed and turned his attention back to the barbecue, clearly unimpressed.
But Itachi wasn’t discouraged. A scholar of the heart mustn’t be rattled by the doubts of a common man.
“Come on, just tell me what’s going on with you. I’ll analyze the situation like a true love guru,” he said eagerly.
“I’m not talking to you about this. Just eat—we’ve got a long road ahead.”
Juzo shut him down flatly, giving him a look that said not another word.
In the end, Juzo didn’t open up.
Itachi’s debut as an emotional advisor ended in complete failure.
Still, at least Juzo stopped brooding, which gave Itachi some comfort.
As the food cooked and their mission timetable slipped further into neglect, the two quietly slipped back into their favorite pastime—slacking off.
—
In the quiet solitude of Konoha Cemetery, a grey-haired man knelt before a tombstone, gently placing a bouquet of fresh flowers. His voice was low, laced with exhaustion.
He sat down cross-legged on the grass, unbothered by appearances, and lifted his mask, letting it rest above his head.
It was Hatake Kakashi—Copy Ninja, genius of Konoha.
With the mask removed, his face was striking and serene, marred only by a vertical scar trailing from his upper to lower eyelid, framing the ever-open Sharingan in his left eye.
Now, his gaze was distant, clouded. He stared at the grave in silence, and though he said nothing more, the weight of unspoken words hung in the air.
Memories flickered through his mind—fragments that made his lips twitch into faint smiles or pull downward in quiet sorrow.
The sunlight bathed the cemetery in gold. Kakashi’s shadow overlapped with the silhouette of the tombstone, and the soft wind teased his hair. It was almost as if an unseen presence was gently ruffling his hair, whispering to him from beyond.
The moment shifted.
Kakashi rose to his feet, mask once again hiding his face.
“What is it?” he asked coldly, the warmth from moments ago now gone.
His tone was icy, deadly—no longer the grieving friend, but a weapon ready for war.
“Hokage-sama is requesting your presence,” the messenger replied nervously, visibly shaken by the sudden pressure Kakashi exuded.
“I understand. You may go.”
Though still cold, his words allowed the subordinate to breathe a sigh of relief.
“Y-Yes!”
Once the man had left, Kakashi turned back, casting a lingering glance at the gravestone.
“I’m heading off. Maybe this time… I’ll get to see you again.”
With that, his figure vanished. Only his words remained, fading into the breeze.
