[it never happened] – UchihaSavior

uchimato:

Despite everything, having been excused dozens and dozens of times, Sasuke perked up a little. No downright excuse, Itachi was considering? (Most likely it would turn into an excuse later, but he couldn’t help it.)

“Tomorrow. If you can’t make it tomorrow then the day after that. I come every day in the afternoon if I don’t have missions.” He sounded… hopeful. “Will you show me a new jutsu, when you come… maybe?”

Tomorrow…

There’s a mission tomorrow. But it is a C. Long gone are the days of being mostly assigned B’s. Of being stationed into surveillance or outside the Hokage’s office.

He still feels a small pang at the thought of having an absence on his record, but is it really so bad if it’s for Sasuke? If it’s something his sensei and teammates could do on their own…?

He’s been turning Sasuke down for years. Putting his missions and his training above him, willing him to wait. But even Itachi knew Sasuke’s innocence and idolization could not truly last forever. Not if he kept this up.

“I have a mission, tomorrow.” He begins, knowing it’s going to well up as the disappointment Sasuke is all too familiar with.

“Promise me you’ll rest most of the day, while I’m gone, and I will come with you after I return.” It wouldn’t keep him away the whole day, and it would go faster with him there. Leaving him with more time to spend on Sasuke.

uchimato:

Slowly Sasuke’s head had lowered again, now he rested it on Itachi’s shoulder. It wasn’t an overwhelming exhaustion anymore, now he was starting to be just tired, his body demanding sleep to regenerate.

And with the sleepy mood, honesty wasn’t too far. “Yeah? Can you come with me from the start next time?” That was a request he didn’t make often anymore, having started to anticipate that Itachi would not have time anyways, so it was no use trying to ask. He still wanted to train with his brother, but usually he kept that wish buried.

“I can try to. When is your next session.” Hopefully not the very next day. Hypocritical as it was, considering Itachi’s training regimen, Sasuke needed his rest. He was a growing boy, and shouldn’t be pushing himself to the point of exhaustion. At least, Itachi never got to that point.

At some point, he spaces out during the walk, beginning to rock Sasuke on his shoulder.

uchimato:

The pout on Sasuke’s face grew. Yeah, he was here right now, not that he ever asked Itachi or anyone for that matter to come fetch him, though. And he probably would have been way late for dinner again. Come to think of it, his father had warned him about that. And if he were late again, perhaps should go to bed without dinner. If he couldn’t appreciate it enough to be on time, he clearly didn’t need it.

“Did kaa-san send you?” That was the most likely case, since Mikoto seemed to be the only person who cared about his whereabouts, unless he was getting in trouble, then it became a family matter again.

“I came here on my own.” As unbelievable as it was, for Sasuke. Then again, Itachi was always finding some way to watch him without being detected. The times he intervened were simply…. too little.

uchimato:

He really was only letting himself be manhandled like this because it was Itachi. (And maybe because he was rather exhausted.) Also, Sasuke was old enough to recognize that he was played. His brother was trying to divert his attention here.

For a moment he was quite torn about his reaction, but then, with a huff, slumped. It wasn’t like he got to see much of Itachi, so be it, even if it was slightly embarrassed. Instead he pouted and scowled. “Later, it’s always later and never happens, don’t even start.”

“I made the time to come fetch you, did I not?” It could’ve been like most days, where Sasuke had to walk himself home. Usually late for dinner, old enough he should know to come on time, and where Mikoto had stopped asking Itachi to go and fetch him.

Still, Sasuke’s frustration is not entirely unfounded…Itachi is often too busy.

uchimato:

Losing the connection to solid ground let a small surge of adrenaline spike through his blood. But the comforting scent of his brother let it dissipate quickly again. His body still deemed Itachi safe.

He let his head roll sideways and rest against the older’s arm, eventually finding the strength again to stirr more and slugisshly pull himself more upright with a grip on Itachi’s shoulder.

“Nii-san, I’m fine. I can walk.”

“Let me carry you.” He wants to do this. He rights Sasuke in his grip, so he doesn’t get the chance to put his feet on the ground. Begins walking as well, in the direction of the district.

“You’ll show me the jutsu later, yes?” Something to placate Sasuke in the meantime, and to get his mind off trying to walk.

uchimato:

Damn it!
He hadn’t even been able to read a single line. Itachi was just way too good at hiding things. Maybe he should stop trying to just casually look at it and instead make it more of a mission… and pounce. But anyway, right now Sasuke was more put off at the whole team thing than to care for this scroll of potentially boring content. So instead he flopped sideways, leaning against his brother. It was an old habit, one he was most likely getting a little too old for, but he was not yet ready to let it go; Itachi and mother were the only two beings where physical contact actually felt calming.

“Team seven.” Was the dutiful answer, the disgruntled look increasing. “I was teamed up with that Haruno girl. I don’t care that much about her, she doesn’t seem stupid, so that’s okay, but she’s one of those girls.” The weird ones, the giggly ones that kept pointing at him from afar and got all weird and squealy around him.

“And Uzumaki.” His voice dropped teetering on the edge to frigid. Now, he’d probably mentioned the blonde several times during the last years. “He was ecstatic about Haruno, but had to get right into my face about being in a team with me. Not like I am happy about it either.” He grumbled.

Seven….

It had been some time since his Team 2, hadn’t it? He never caught the reason for group nomenclature. Some were assigned numbers, and some were assigned the name of the sensei. Nonetheless.

He enjoys Sasuke’s weight on him. Age be damned. Loops an arm around his little brother’s shoulder, because he’ll always be here for him.

The girl escapes him. There were many girls in Sasuke’s class, all interested in him. Such an oddity, since Itachi hadn’t garnered that type of attention.

“Uzumaki Naruto, mm?” The blonde boy. The Jinchuuriki. Oh, Sasuke had complained now and then about the boy.

“Seems like you’ve a rival in the works.” It’d probably be healthy for him.

uchimato:

The main door of the house slid open and shut with a fairly distinctive sound of ‘not so happy’ again. Oh, graduated Sasuke had, he didn’t fail and was ashamed now, he had come out on top of the class and with honors to boot. The grades was not was he was unhappy about at all. No, but everything else was.

Somewhere at the back of his head, the awareness that the Hokage must have had his reasons for picking the teams the way he did was there. He didn’t even resent the man for picking, he just… Why did it have to be those two?!

Leaving his shoes in the genkan – not missing the larger pair that belonged to his brother – he marched into the house and stuck his head into several rooms until he found Itachi.

“Nii-san, you’re home.” His voice was slightly clipped and his nose still a little crinkled, however, he didn’t glare, so it was evident that his displeasure was not due to the long haired teenager. And with all the air of indignation around him, he still sat down right next to his brother and tried to sneak a look at what exactly he was doing.

@uchihasavior

“Hello, Sasuke.” It had been tricky trying to fit the gruaduation into his day. But it was something Itachi refused to miss, ANBU missions be damned. His little brother ultimately was the reason for him putting so much time and effort into his missions, and if Father wouldn’t show up, Itachi would. There was a point to be made, here.

He’s used to Sasuke trying to peek into his work. By the time those eyes flit over, he’s already neatly rolled up the scroll to set it aside. All in a natural manner, just a man putting his things away so he can talk to his sibling.

“Have you been placed in a team?” He would like to assume who, but with his luck with teams during his formative years, it’s anyone’s guess, really.