Recently edited. Not much, just added dividers, but it should be clearer now.

Is Kishimoto a nineteen-year-old English girl? No? Oh. Guess I don't own Naruto then. A shame, that.

He could throw a kunai before he could read.

By the time he graduated the academy, he could read at a level far beyond his years, and his too-small hands bore kunai calluses.

Fugaku took his son's hand, correcting his grip.

'Like this,' he said, pushing Itachi's fingers into position. 'Grip it tighter. Straighten your wrist.'

'Yes, Father.'

After training, Itachi reached for his father's hand on the way home, but Fugaku pulled away.

Mikoto took her son's hand, but he tugged back. She held tighter, frowning.

'Itachi,' she chastised.

'Mother,' he said softly. 'I'm going to meet my team.'

She understood. Itachi was a ninja. At seven years of age, Itachi was too old to hold his mother's hand.

'Humour your mother,' she said, smiling, making a joke out of it. But it was true; she needed the contact more than he did.

Perhaps Itachi understood that, because he stopped pulling; but his hand was limp in hers, the skin hardened through constant training. Not a child's hand. A ninja's hand.

Mikoto squeezed tighter for a moment, as though she could smooth away the roughness there and pretend that he was still hers, still innocent; but the calluses remained.

Mikoto let go.

Sasuke held his brother's hand all the time. Wherever they went a small, soft hand would slip into Itachi's own and he would grip it gently; a good big brother caring for Sasuke. They walked like that, hand in hand, to the training grounds.

'Nii-san! Watch this!'

Itachi watched dutifully, and as he did so he felt the inexplicable urge to tear the kunai away from him and never let him touch it again.

He looked away, disconcerted.

'Very good, Sasuke,' he said, almost automatically. 'Father will be proud.'

Itachi took Sasuke's hand, correcting his grip.

'Like this,' he said, gently showing Sasuke where his fingers should be. 'Grip it tighter… there. That's it.'

As he helped Sasuke adjust his hold, he felt the calluses forming on his hands and frowned.

'Nii-san?'

Itachi didn't let go. They stayed like that for a moment, Itachi crouching before his brother to be at eye-level, their hands joined around the handle of the kunai.

Gently, Itachi pried Sasuke's too-small fingers off the weapon and dropped it to the ground.

'That's enough training for today,' he said, straightening up.

Sasuke blinked, confused. 'But nii-san-'

'It's fine, Sasuke. You've done well. Now let's go inside and practice your kanji, okay?'

'Okay,' Sasuke agreed. He reached up for his older brother's hand and they walked away, the kunai lying forgotten in the dirt behind them.