Chapter Text
The Night We Met
(The song plays low in his mind, carried on the forest wind like faint, mournful notes. Distant voices, echoes of a reunion that should never have happened. “I had all and then most of you, some and now none of you…”)
The rain fell hard that night, turning the dirt trail into thick, clinging mud that sucked at Naruto’s boots. He ran with the hood of his black hoodie pulled tight over his head, but the water had already soaked through everything: his orange pants darkened to near-black, blond hair plastered to his forehead, dripping into bright blue eyes that still managed to gleam in the gloom.
Mission almost over. Recon on the western border of the Land of Fire. Nothing special. Report sealed in his pouch—just had to make it back to Konoha, hand it in, and he could already taste the hot ramen waiting at Ichiraku, see Hinata’s soft smile, hear Sasuke’s grumble of “you took too damn long, idiot.”
Then he felt it.
A chakra. Weak. Familiar. Impossible.
Naruto skidded to a halt so fast he nearly slipped in the mud. His heart slammed into his throat. He turned slowly, sniffing the air like a wary animal.
There.
Leaning against the fallen trunk of an ancient pine, half-hidden in shadows and the curtain of rain, was him.
Itachi Uchiha.
Alive.
Naruto blinked once, twice. Rain streamed down his face, but he no longer felt the cold. All he saw: long black hair soaked and clinging to thin shoulders, skin so pale it looked almost bluish under the faint moonlight that pierced the clouds, dark eyes—no Sharingan, no red glow, just exhausted darkness. The tattered Akatsuki cloak hung from his shoulders like an old shroud. He was breathing. Slowly. Painfully.
“Itachi…?”
Naruto’s voice came out rough, nearly swallowed by the downpour.
Itachi lifted his head slowly. His eyes met Naruto’s. For a second, confusion. Then recognition.
“…Uzumaki Naruto.”
The voice was low, weak, but unmistakable. The same lethal calm as always, now stripped of any strength behind it.
Naruto took a step forward. Then another. Boots sank into the mud. He couldn’t stop staring.
“You… died. I saw it with my own eyes. Sasuke… he buried you. We all… we accepted it. You died for the village. For peace. How…?”
Itachi tried to brace himself better against the tree. The movement made his body shake. He slipped, dropping to his knees in the mud. No groan. Just closed his eyes for a moment, as if the pain were something far away.
“I don’t know,” he murmured. “I woke up here. Alone. No memories after the war. Nothing.”
Naruto dropped to his knees in front of him without thinking. Mud soaked his orange pants, but he didn’t notice. He reached out hesitantly and touched Itachi’s shoulder. The fabric was ice-cold. The whole body trembled with cold and weakness.
“You’re alive. For real.” Naruto’s voice cracked. “Come with me. I’ll take you to Konoha. Tsunade-sama will… or Sakura. Someone can help. Sasuke—”
“No.”
The word came out firm, even through the frail voice.
Naruto froze.
Itachi opened his eyes again. There was something in them Naruto had never seen before: not the cold Sharingan, not a shinobi’s resolve. It was… pleading.
“Don’t take me to Konoha. Please.”
“Why?” Naruto almost shouted. The rain hammered harder now. “Sasuke thinks you’re dead! He carries that every single day! He deserves to know his brother—”
“He’s suffered enough because of me.” Itachi cut in, voice low but sharp. “Let him believe I’m gone. It’s better this way. I… don’t want to be another burden. I don’t want him looking at me with hate again… or pity.”
Naruto clenched his fists in the mud. Water ran down his face, mixing with something he refused to call tears.
“And you? You’re just gonna stay out here alone? Freezing and dying? That’s not fair!”
Itachi lowered his gaze.
“Fairness was never something I deserved.”
Naruto drew a deep breath. Once. Twice. Then stood up.
“Fine.” He extended his hand again, this time steadier. “But I’m not leaving you here. There’s an abandoned cabin about two kilometers back. I used it during the mission. It’s basic, but it has a roof, a wood stove, a bed. You’re coming with me. At least until you’re stronger.”
Itachi stared at the offered hand. Hesitated. Then, slowly, he took it. His fingers were cold as stone.
Naruto pulled him up carefully. Itachi was light. Too light. Bones pressing against skin. He staggered, and Naruto slipped an arm around his shoulders without asking.
“Hold on to me.”
They started walking. The rain didn’t let up. Naruto felt the faint weight of Itachi against him, the constant shivering, the shallow breaths.
Neither spoke the rest of the way.
Just the rain, the wind through the trees, and somewhere far back in Naruto’s mind, that sad melody that refused to fade.
When they reached the cabin, Naruto shoved the door open with his shoulder. The place smelled of damp wood and neglect. He lit the oil lamp he’d left there, and weak yellow light filled the simple interior: a crooked table, two chairs, a narrow bed with a thin mattress, an empty wood stove.
Naruto guided Itachi to the bed and eased him down.
“Stay there. I’ll get the fire going.”
Itachi only nodded, exhausted. His dark eyes followed Naruto’s every move as he stacked wood, struck a spark, hung the soaked cloak near the growing flames.
When warmth began to spread, Naruto turned.
“You’re still shaking.”
Itachi didn’t answer. Just stared at his own hands, as if surprised they existed.
Naruto peeled off his drenched black hoodie, left in his orange tank top underneath, and draped an old blanket over Itachi’s shoulders.
“Rest. We’ll talk tomorrow. For real.”
Itachi lifted his eyes slowly.
“Why are you doing this?”
Naruto shrugged, trying to play it off casual, but his voice came out quiet.
“Because no one deserves to die alone. Not even you.”
Itachi closed his eyes. A single tear slipped down his pale cheek, but he didn’t wipe it away.
Naruto stood there, watching the man who’d once been the village’s most feared monster… now looking only broken.
The rain kept drumming on the roof.
And in the back of Naruto’s mind, the music played on.