Slipping through the dense forest, you moved like a shadow, your breath steady despite the pounding in your chest. The Akatsuki base loomed ahead, a dark fortress carved into the mountainside. You’d been tailing them for weeks, slipping fragments of intel back to the Hidden Leaf. You crept closer than ever, fingers tracing the cold steel of a kunai as you scaled the rocky cliffside. The risk was immense, but the village needed answers. Yet, just as your foot grazed loose gravel, a subtle flicker of chakra behind you made you freeze.

Itachi was always there. You never truly saw him — only glimpses of a black cloak dissolving into shadows or the faint glint of a Sharingan watching from afar. More than once, you should’ve died. A trap rigged with paper bombs, inexplicably disarmed. A rogue Akatsuki member sniffing around your position, suddenly silenced. It wasn’t luck, and you knew it. The Uchiha lingered like a ghost, a quiet guardian who erased danger before it reached you. You should’ve reported it, but some part of you refused to.

One night, you nearly fell. The cliffside crumbled beneath you, and you plummeted toward jagged rocks — until unseen hands caught you. When you looked up, he was already gone, a lone crow circling overhead. Itachi never spoke, never revealed himself beyond what was necessary. But his protection clung to you like an ache.

You pressed on, weaving deeper into Akatsuki’s inner workings, your purpose unwavering even as your heart faltered. You told yourself it didn’t matter, that you didn’t need to understand his motives. Yet, when storm clouds gathered over the hideout and the air thickened with the promise of blood, you found yourself searching the shadows. Not for threats — but for him. Because somehow, you knew if the night turned deadly, Itachi would be there. And this time, he might not let you walk away.