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Warning: Spoilers & wild theories abound…

- CHAPTER 3: The Unannounced -

.

Itachi motioned.

"That's not a high-level codename." Crossing her arms, Tsunade appeared unconvinced. "Got a better excuse?"

She didn't know, then. Danzou must have destroyed all records during the one month when Konoha had been left leaderless.

Tugging his lips in effected self-deprecation, Itachi released the film of physical energy from his fingers. Tsunade was too cautious to let her chakra resonate with his; as expected of a… competent ninja. Nevertheless, her trust would be needed for him to cover any misstep with Naruto's acquaintances—and more importantly, to check Danzou's actions.

Without invoking another genjutsu, Itachi gave her the last mission code he had received as an ANBU.

Tsunade's hands tightened in obvious recognition. So, she had been an acknowledged candidate for the Hokage seat.

And Sandaime had been serious about that final offer.

"Impossible," his former leader's successor insisted, but her weak tone indicated a belief otherwise. "Why? Why did you come back? Why now? Why did you pick Na—"

"Not by choice," Itachi finally spoke. Konoha's standard system of hand signals was never meant for complex communication; it had already served its purpose, in any event. "But I felt that you would not have wanted Uzumaki's body to be left unattended… Godaime-sama."

Tsunade frowned again. " You're in his body? Then where the hell is Naruto?"

"I do not know." Maintaining eye contact, Itachi continued in a soft voice far removed from Naruto's, "He was already gone when I found this body."

Tsunade thinned her lips, clearly torn between her trust in Sandaime and her distrust of him. Given her undisguised expression, however, he might have gained some ground. "We already have a 'Kage' as the ANBU commander; I won't have a position for you for at least another year."

Itachi almost smiled: she was at least willing to share information. "Consider me a free agent."

He was referring to his relatively independent status. Granted, an ANBU would be also more costly for the village to maintain than a genin. There was only one sensible order that could be given by someone in Tsunade's position.

And it sounded she would. "Uzumaki… Naruto."

Itachi was about to stand at attention when the air shifted. With conscious effort, he impassively let those fingers wound around his neck.

If the momentary widening of her eyes was any indication, Tsunade had not expected his inaction. But soon, those eyes narrowed. "I'm sure Sarutobi-sensei had his reasons; but they'll mean nothing to me if you ever wreck 'your' body before its owner returns."

Itachi did not hide his consideration. Holding her gaze, he asked quietly, "And if he doesn't?"

Her fingers tightened further to be almost painful. "Well, you better make sure he does."

"You overestimate the extent of my knowledge," Itachi observed dryly, but not before raising one hand to slip a mildly restrictive thumb into the hollow of her palm. "We have no idea of where he went, no guarantees of when he will return. And yet, Konoha will always need its jinchuuriki; I may have to fight on Uzumaki's behalf if his strength is needed.

"Besides," he then smiled, faintly. "Would you have denied Naruto if he wanted to fight for the village as its ninja… as its next Hokage?"

Itachi could tell Tsunade wanted to object at several points. In the end, though, they both knew Naruto's sway over her too well. "Fine. You will try, are we clear?"

He nodded. Itachi suspected their predicament was of his own making—although exactly how, he had yet to deduce. "And you?"

Shaking free of his light hold, Tsunade snorted. "Emotion shock, right? You want the others to believe you had decided to forget everything about Jiraiya."

"Hatake Kakashi too, please." Itachi added as he moved to disperse imprints from his neck with light massaging.

Tsunade gave him a strange look. "You already thought this through, didn't you?"

Noncommittally, he continued, "If you have any pointers on how to mimic Uzumaki's techniques, that would also be appreciated."

She rolled her eyes. "How in the world would I…"

Tsunade suddenly paused.

As her eyes took on an odd glint, Itachi became decidedly wary.

"Tell you what," she actually grinned, "Go take a walk. I'll have the perfect setup ready when I summon you again."

...

The others' curiosity was palpable.

Then again, it would be time for the next stage when that curiosity abated. Until then, he was just #49.

"And then we will exit from these routes." Their team leader was winding up the brief. "I will exit from route A as the decoy. Tera, you are to exit from route B with Dajimu."

Tera eyed him, but otherwise remained silent.

He returned the scrutiny, but otherwise only put his borrowed mask back on.

Yes. For now, he was just the 49th root of their Great Tree.

Codename: Dajimu.

...

Brushing off another chuunin who tried to invite him to ramen despite his clearly brooding mood, Itachi finally traced his steps back to Naruto's apartment.

This had been a long day—but it was not done, yet.

Opening the door to a foyer drenched in the orange glow of setting sun, Itachi decided he did spent too much time wandering around the village. He had had enough chakra to create another clone to map out Konoha's current layout; his time could have probably been better spent by fine-tuning his synchronization with this body.

…Except that would completely deplete his store of Naruto's original chakra.

They were not the same person. Their experiences were different. So even with the same body, the chakra they generated were not quite the same. His felt colder, darker… more like a Bijuu.

Of course, having paraded his morose state around Konoha, most people should come to accept this slight discrepancy. There would be doubters, but Tsunade should soon put them at ease. In the meantime, he needed some of this body's original chakra to maintain appearances—just enough for him to exercise chakra control.

He did not have the same level of control as in his own body, but it was sufficient for basic sensing. So even before he stepped into 'his' washroom, Itachi had reflexively tensed.

A Ne ANBU was sleeping on the toilet… in underwear.

Soundlessly, he grabbed a towel and approached his clone's victim. Nudging some of the cloth into the other ninja's hand, Itachi reinforced the genjutsu as he painstakingly guided the unmasked youth into curling up on the floor. Deep in slumber, the ANBU's chakra was easily manipulated. Well-trained, the ANBU easily entered thanatosis.

Itachi dumped a basket of dirty laundry on top for good measure.

Straightening up, Itachi grinned at the mirror.

He adjusted the bent of his eyebrows until the blond in front of him could more easily pass for Uzumaki Naruto on a happier day. Satisfied, he rearranged his facial muscles to recall his earlier expression; the somberness looked decidedly awkward on the boy's face—but not unreasonable given the situation.

Itachi attempted a few more expressions. While his new face was quick to respond with precision, it soon became apparent that his imitations could never quite match their original. Something always felt… missing. Innocence, perhaps? No, that could not be it. Unthinkably positive though he could be, but the genin was no stranger to the darker side of human nature.

Itachi closed his eyes. Did it even matter? Any ninja would be foolish to believe in the existence of a perfect cover. For a long-term mission, the goal would never be to act exactly like the replaced person. Just as the best lies would be half-truths, so would the best covers be modifications of one's own identity.

Ten years ago, he was made a spy. He had felt betrayed, isolated, and completely abandoned by his own family. Back then, he had turned to his fellow ANBU, believing that they could be a replacement…

Sixteen years ago, he was made a jinchuuriki. When he found out, he had felt betrayed by his hero. All those cold eyes around him felt all the colder. Back then, he had turned to his fellow teammates, believing that they could acknowledge him as a ninja and not a…

And then Shisui died.

Jiraiya died.

He had raged in solitude for days. If only he… If…

He felt disbelief, then anger. If only Tsunade… If…

But when the rage subsided, he had to acknowledge that the past could not be re-written. What had been done, had been done. All they could change was the future, the next generation. Sasuke became his reason for living. Or rather, he forced it to become his reason.

Sasuke was…

Itachi paused. What was Sasuke to Naruto, really? How could the boy still believe his brother could coexist with Konoha, without becoming its enemy?

He hadn't been able to understand the optimism, and still couldn't. If anything, he had simply took Naruto's words in faith—putting his trust, for the first time after Sandaime's death, in another.

…Only for his plan to backfire. Somehow.

With a start, Itachi realized that he had opened his eyes. Looking at the eerily thoughtful blond in front him, he saw those blank eyes. Clear as the sunniest summer sky, but empty. Lifelessly empty.

Hope. That was what Naruto… what he had.

Numbly, Itachi turned his back on the reflection. The real Uzumaki Naruto would never be so weak, but the one he was masquerading as… Surely, no one could blame a fifteen-year-old orphan for getting depressed over his uncle-figure's death?

By the time Itachi returned to the bed on which he had woken up this morning, he had already shut all the windows and lower all the shutters around 'his' apartment. Sitting back against the headboard, he finally began to meditate.

There was one last thing he had to do. The rest, he left it up to others.

...

Between rustling leaves, he saw them.

"Well?"

"Everything went smoothly."

"That's good."

"Itachi's dead; the eyesore is gone. So much for 'Konoha's off-limits.'"

"You've waited long…"

"Had to be for the plan to work…"

Conversation abruptly stopped on the bridge.

He was discovered.

It was the White Zetsu that spoke again: "I think we found him first."

"Indeed," Madara agreed, after a suspicious pause. "But shouldn't you have warned me earlier?"

Sidestepping a stray whiff, he slowly walked out of the woods. "Excuse me, I couldn't help myself."

"My, my. So the Kyuubi jinchuuriki finally learned some manners." Madara started to turn away from the lake. "That's not going to stop me from…"

He gave the surprised pair a few seconds to reconcile his physical appearance to his chakra signature.

"Excuse me," Uchiha Itachi then repeated, smoothly switching into his original voice. "I wasn't aware that I am dead."

A/N: (Edit) Slightly extended as suggested.