Disclaimer: This story is just a fanfiction based on 'Naruto' by Masashi Kishimoto, the very same Naruto we love and hate for all the right reasons.

This is an Itachi Uchiha x OC story, OC being Fukuro Miyuki. Somehow, pre-massacre Itachi interests me and I think there is so much more to him than him being 'Sasuke Uchiha's elder brother.' I hope I can capture that Itachi Uchiha but I know that he would be a hard character to write about. I will try my best though. Of course, this fic will be dealing with the Uchiha massacre and all its consequences as well so expect some 'heaviness'.

And also, Fukuro Miyuki is my own addition to the Naruto world and I will be exploring her history and her clan's as well. Maybe I just want to know what it feels like to be Kishimoto for a while –smirk- I will try to make her into a better heroine because mostly, I hate the portrayal of women in the Naruto world (Especially that insufferable Karin.)

CHAPTER 1

"You can't cross the sea merely by standing and staring at the water."

-Rabindranath Tagore

It was always 'those damn Uchihas.'

I grew up hearing my grandmother grunting and hissing these words under her breath as she shuffled about in her apothecary, fingering the leafy herbs she was so fond of growing. Even when it rained so much that the ceiling of the old, dilapidated shrine we lived in started leaking, she would find a way to put the blame on those 'Uchihas'. When I was a child, I could never understand her derision and her almost irrational loathing for the most renowned and prestigious clan of our village, who also happened to be our immediate neighbors.

Uchiha manor was beautiful and well-maintained, with manicured hedges and sweet cherry and peach trees that would bloom in balmy spring and their petals would rain down dreamily over the crystalline surface of small ponds and lakes in the gardens. Our home was just the opposite though. We lived in Nisshoku shrine, an ancient, ramshackle building swallowed by wild weeds and encroaching lianas with huge oak and maple trees standing around almost dauntingly. My grandmother, however, claimed to 'love' this shrine that was our residence, probably because it was the only existing legacy of our clan. The once legendary Fukuro clan.

Whenever my grandmother was feeling less irritable she would tell me enchanting tales of the Fukuro clan, the clan that was once highly revered for their wisdom and sophisticated, pacific ways in the land of fire. The clan that built many shrines to promote nonviolence when the desire for peace still existed in the people's hearts but all that changed when the warring clans took over the land of fire. Hyuugas, Senjus and worst of all, the vicious Uchihas.

Then there was only bloodshed and fires, skirmishes and conflicts and of course, the peaceful Fukuro clan was stripped off its power, its teachings forgotten. Most of them were killed and only handful of them, those who gave up on their peaceful ways, those who had learnt to master ninjutsu and their chakras to fight, survived. And now, my grandmother, my Uncle and I, who lived in the Nisshoku shrine, were the last surviving members of the Fukuro clan.

After she was done telling me such legends and tales, my grandmother would pat my head affectionately and with fierce, determined eyes, she would ask me, "What is your name, girl?"

"Miyuki," I would say, "Fukuro Miyuki."

"Good girl," she would cover my forehead with her ancient, wrinkled hand, "don't ever forget that."

...

It was the day before the start of my ninja academy when I first met him. Of course, Uchihas being our neighbors meant that I had seen him many times before around Uchiha manor; he had always seemed mysterious, aloof and rather forbidding to me, but that day was the first time I had actually talked to him.

It was a chilly autumn evening and the foliage of maples and oaks was on fire all around. That day was one of those days when I would feel a bit lonely, hanging around the big Nisshoku shrine all by myself, when those stone owl-shaped gargoyles around the endless staircase would stare at me with their unnerving, empty eyes and drive me on edge. Grandmother had shut herself in the apothecary, looking for an antidote to a rare poison assigned to her by Hokage and my Uncle was praying, as usual, being a nonviolent person who refused to learn any kind of ninjutsu.

I had entered the dense woods surrounding the Nisshoku shrine, throwing the kunais and shurikens randomly at the small squirrels and badgers who gazed at me with their doleful eyes like that of a prey. And then one of the rabbits decided to taunt me by clutching my fallen kunai in its mouth and scurrying off into the thick mesh of the trees.

"Hey!" I called as I ran after it. "Give that kunai back!"

When the rabbit refused to heed my humble request, I decided to be a bit more forceful. "Give it back, I need it!" I shouted, pushing back the claw-like branches of the trees. "Give the kunai back when I am asking you nicely, or I will impale you against a tree!"

"And here I thought that the people of Fukuro clan were supposed to be proud of their nonviolent ways."

I suddenly stopped at the unfamiliar voice, panting with the realization that I was standing in a small clearing and the woods had gone disconcertingly quiet, so much that for a second I thought that the voice must have belonged to a ghost of one of our 'peace-loving' ancestors. I immediately took a defensive stance holding out my shuriken just the way my grandmother had taught me. "Who is there?" I asked rather shrilly. "C-come out! I am warning you, I've got a shuriken."

"Oh really?" Now the voice sounded amused.

"Who is there?" I repeated.

"It is I," my eyes followed the voice to find him crouching over a branch of an oak tree. "Uchiha Itachi."

"Uchiha," I scoffed. "My grandmother told me all about you people!"

"Did she?" Now he sounded even more amused as he sprung up from the branch to land sinuously on his one knee, right in front of me, his midnight-black hair gently fluttering in the wind. "What exactly did she tell you?" He asked, standing up to face me at last. For a while, I was struck by the beautiful boy that he was, standing amidst of the gentle rain of the scarlet autumn leaves, with fiery sunlight filtering from the canopy of the trees, highlighting the side of his face.

"Nothing." I muttered, a bit innerved by his dark eyes too mature and too intense for a six year old, and also by the flawless display of his quick, fluid movements that could only belong to a full-fledged shinobi.

"You didn't tell me your name," he said a bit condescendingly. "It is considered rude not to give your name when somebody introduces himself."

"That is none of your business," I snapped as I turned around to look for the rabbit again, dismissing him.

"Fukuro Miyuki, isn't it?"

My eyes widened. "How... How did you know my name?"

He shrugged. "We are neighbors and I like to keep track of my surroundings."

"Well, if you already know that then stop wasting my time. I need to find that rabbit... I need to—"

"Is this what you are looking for?" To my surprise, he was holding up my kunai, the very same one the rabbit had taken off with.

"Give it here." I sprang at the kunai dangling from his index finger but he quickly wrapped his hand around it and with the flick of his wrist, it disappeared somewhere, like a magician's trick.

"First tell me what your grandmother told you about us." He was smirking now that he knew that he had me in his trap.

"Why do you want to know?" I glowered at him murderously.

"Like I said I like to keep track of my surroudings. In case you both are conspiring to murder us in our beds... It is only… prudent for a shinobi to be on guard."

"We don't plan to do anything of that sort!" I snarled, incensed now. "Uchihas are the bloodthirsty monsters capable of anything, not us!"

For a slow moment, he said nothing and his eyes hardened into smoldering, black coals, blazing with some dark emotion I couldn't fanthom. I took an inadvertent step back, a bit intimidated with the intensity in his eyes, wondering if I had offended him somehow but then he had already composed himself, and corners of his lips lifted into a wry smirk. "Of course, that would be us, the Uchihas, the blood-thirsty monsters, as you say."

"Give me back my kunai."

"Or what?" he challenged.

"Or... Or I will impale you against the tree!"

"Right." I could see that his eyes were laughing mockingly at me now. "That is quite convincing, coming from a girl who can't even hold a shuriken right."

"You—!" I was beyond indignant now. Words failed me as they always did whenever undiluted fury surged over me and I lunged forward, swinging a shuriken at him. To my extreme vexation, he dodged it effortlessly, fluidly, like it was nothing but an autumn leaf falling off a tree. Miffed, I took out few more shurikens from my ninja gear and flung them in his direction, savoring a small taste of victory when they actually hit him, only to find them stuck to a log with the great Itachi Uchiha nowhere to be seen. I blinked, bewildered, as I did know that no one could ever master a replacement jutsu at our age. And yet, he had, impeccably so.

I dropped down on my knees, panting; too exhausted to spar anymore with someone whose abilities obviously far exceeded mine. "Give it back," I whispered, hating the pleading edge in my voice.

"If you want it back," he had suddenly appeared right behind me and I could feel his warm breath on the back of my neck, much to my astonishment and chagrin, "get it back yourself."

I whirled around, swinging my small legs, aiming at his torso but he had vanished once again in thin air. "Give it back!" I screamed out in frustration. "It is the only thing I have of my father!"

Suddenly, he appeared right in front of me, almost like a phantom, appraising me with his dark eyes that were no longer mocking and patronizing but soft, rueful. He held out his hand to me with my precious kunai sitting snugly in it. "I am sorry," he said, "I was only looking for a sparring partner. I didn't… mean to make you upset."

I snatched away the kunai and cradled it protectively to my chest, glowering at him with my eyes shivering with the unshed tears. "Find some other sparring partner." I told him coldly.

"Of course I have others," he said, "but I was looking for someone of my own age."

"You are just a bully!" I told him stiffly, "and all bullies are cowards, my grandmother told me so."

"I have never been called a coward before," he disagreed, scowling. I knew I had hit the nerve.

"Well, that is what you are!"

"I am not."

"Yes… yes, that is what you are." I slipped my precious kunai in my ninja gear in case he tried to put his hands on it again and stood in front of him defiantly. "All Uchihas are bullies and cowards. My grandmother told me all about it. You bullied our people and took away our lands!"

He opened his mouth, no doubt to deny it but right at that moment, my grandmother appeared with thunderous look in her eyes. "Miyuki!" she bellowed, "did this Uchiha boy harm you in some way?"

When I didn't say anything, she turned around and advanced on him like a lioness, her back ramrod straight even in her age. She waved her cane at him admonishingly. "What did you do to my granddaughter? Answer me, boy or I will feed you to wolves! They are everywhere in these woods and they listen to me, make no mistake. They will rip you apart."

"I—"

"He didn't do anything, Obaa-san." I said hurriedly, even though I would have loved to see him flinch and cower under my grandmother's piercing eyes. But he had gotten my kunai back for me and I decided to return the favor. "He was just looking to… to spar."

"That's right," said Itachi, a bit relieved.

"Well boy," my grandmother growled at him, relief flooding her eyes. "Are you taking the ninja academy tomorrow?"

"I am," he said politely.

"I am warning you, my grand-daughter is going to surpass you so look out for her."

"Obaa-san," I muttered a bit sheepishly because I already knew that that would be an almost impossible feat.

His lips twitched. "I will."

"Well then, off you go, boy and don't ever come back to these woods again. This land is our territory, you hear? Next time, I won't be this kind."

"I will keep that in mind and take my leave now then. Jan-ne." he said, his black, enigmatic eyes trained on me and then he disappeared in the smudgy shadows of the approaching twilight. The crickets were singing as they flitted about unseen in the dark bushes and owls were hooting, celebrating the coming of the night. Few bats started spiraling around as we climbed our way back to the exhaustingly long staircase to the Nisshoku shrine, lined by hundred lamps, glowing in the blue haze of dusk, gathering the dancing moths from all around. It was one of those hazy times of the days, when nothing seemed real, neither night nor day, as if everything was trapped in a cold, surreal dream.

"Listen, Miyuki," my grandmother said, her eye-sockets in shadows seemed as empty as those of gargoyles. "I wasn't bluffing. You need to surpass that boy at all costs, you hear?"

"But… but Fukuro is the nonviolent clan."

She scowled. "And you are one of the most violent children I have ever come across, my dear. And it doesn't even matter. I already know that if we remained docile and 'nonviolent' like the way we used to, we will disappear altogether from this land and no one will ever remember us. If you want to stop a bee from stinging, you need to sting it back. We need to take control. And you, my grand-daughter, you will help us restore our clan to its original status and prestige. You will change this rotten ninja world."

"But… but how?" I asked with bated breath.

She smiled then, a smile that scared me more than anything else, because it was insane, because it was vengeful and yet so kind. "You will become the hokage. That is how."

...

'Fukuro' means 'owl' in Japanese which seemed a plausible name for the clan since that clan was once known for their wisdom.

'Nisshoku' means 'Eclipse.'

'Miyuki' means 'deep snow.'

...

Please let me know what you think!

--AnEveningMoth