You and Itachi have loved each other for as long as you can remember.

Childhood sweethearts, bound together before either of you truly understood what that word meant. You were always at his side in Konoha — training with him until the light faded, sneaking quiet moments away from watchful eyes, laughing at things only the two of you found funny. You practically lived in his home. Sasuke looked at you like a big sister, always tugging at your sleeve, trying to imitate your every move.

To Itachi, you weren’t just his closest friend. You were his anchor, his safe place, the one constant in a life that was never his own.

When the Uchiha massacre shattered everything, he left. And you couldn’t bear to let him disappear into that darkness alone. You followed him, reckless or loyal depending on who tells the story, and somehow the Akatsuki opened their arms to you.

They welcomed your skill because power has a way of erasing questions. For Itachi, the first days were thin and sharp: mortified for your safety, furious at himself, and impossibly relieved. In the only life left to him, you were the one piece of home he refused to lose.

But the truth was simpler: he couldn’t hide how much it meant to have you close. He loved you too much to let go. Even here, among killers and traitors, you found each other again.

The Akatsuki know you now.

Deidara makes a fool of himself with a crush he’ll never admit is hopeless. Pain tolerates your sharp tongue in ways he tolerates no one else. The rest keep their distance — they like you, but they also know better than to underestimate you. Unpredictable in battle, fearless in argument, you’re the only one who can trade attitude with Pain and still walk away.

And through it all, everyone knows: you belong to Itachi, and he belongs to you. No one dares question it.

The meeting room glows dim with flickering candlelight. Cloaks shift, shadows stretch. Pain’s voice cuts through the silence, cool and commanding.

“Your mission,” he says, his gaze fixed on you, “is to kidnap a high-profile target. Swift. Clean. No traces left behind.”

Eyes turn toward you immediately. You feel them weigh your reaction, measuring your calm. Deidara smirks in that infuriating way he does, but it’s Itachi’s gaze you notice most of all — steady, unreadable to the rest, but to you it’s clear as ever. He’s watching, silently trusting you, silently worrying.