Hanabi kept her hands clasped in front of her until I was within feet of her. Then she dropped her polite, respectful act and threw herself at my legs. I blinked down at her as she claimed my left leg as her own, giggling to herself. I looked to Neji for help, but he only gave Hanabi a quick, dismissive glance and took a step closer to the babysitter.

She was in Natsu's place under the shade of the tree the farthest away from the crowd pouring out of the Academy. She barely started to smile when Neji spoke.

"Where's Natsu?"

I coughed into my fist to hide a rogue smile and glanced away when Neji's shoulders stiffened, finding a sudden interest in the cracked bark of the tree when he gave me a hard glare.

The babysitter leaned forward a little, her eyes on the ground. "I'm sure if she could, she would apologize profusely for this," she dipped lower, her body almost at a ninety-degree angle. "Master Hiashi wanted to have a word with her, and it seems to have run longer than expected. I was sent in her place for today."

My blood turned to ice. What did Hiashi want with Natsu? I glanced at Neji, but he was already turning away so the babysitter wouldn't see his expression, jamming his hands in his pockets to hide his clenched fists. Did Hiashi find out about Hanabi coming over? I would be more surprised if Hiashi didn't know about that by now. Or could it be about us? Dread curled around my heart, like a snake strangling a mouse. I didn't want to think about it, but I remembered those cold, detached eyes of his as he activated Father's seal and watched his own brother roll around on the floor in agony.

"Up!"

I stared down at Hanabi, startled out of the memory. For a second, I saw those frigid eyes looking up at me. Her arms were raised. Her wide smile was suddenly taunting, as if she was saying: Guess what? Soon, I'll have the power to bring you to your knees with a flick of my wrist whenever I want!

How long would it be before she learned how to use the seal? Before she had my life in her hands? My breath hitched and I took a step back, wanting, no needing to put space between me and Hanabi. I only remembered that she was sitting on my foot when I tipped backwards, her weight putting me off balance. I twisted automatically to brace my fall, but stopped halfway when Hanabi's fingers dug into my leg as she tried to hold on. Squishing Hanabi under me sounded like as much of a good idea as breathing fire on her.

I fell awkwardly on my side, wincing as my left shoulder banged against the ground, sending a bolt of pain down my arm. The babysitter gasped like she was watching the world end and swiftly rescued Hanabi, clutching the crying toddler to her chest. I wondered what Hiashi would do when he found out about this. I was in the middle of imagining an angry mob of main house members with pitchforks and torches circling our house when a hand appeared in front of me. I blinked at it, and then up at the owner. There was a question that I didn't want to answer in Neji's eyes. I didn't miss the deep, relieved sigh in the background, or the sound of Hanabi's muffled sniffs.

I considered my options. I could take Neji's hand and accept his price, or I could stay on the ground and refuse to get up until the babysitter decided that Hanabi didn't need me anyway and left. I wasn't sure how I felt about Hanabi anymore. Fear came to mind first. By her fourth birthday, would she know how to use the seal? She could learn it later today, and I would never know until she used it on me. I couldn't pretend that I wasn't terrified of Hanabi. I wanted to think that the clan wouldn't trust a three-year-old with that kind of power, but I couldn't be sure. For all I knew, they would teach it to Hanabi early to see if she could handle the weight of that responsibility.

Guilt followed. Hanabi was the one who taught me that I could still be a kid in a clan that expected me act like an adult, and I was treating her like this? She wasn't one of the elders, who knew exactly what they were doing when they forced the seal on me. She had broken every single unspoken rule when she came to our house, because she didn't know any better. She wouldn't do that to me.

Would she?

And layers and layers below that, simmering in a black pit of resentment and envy, was hate. I could still see Hanabi's taunting smile, even though I knew I imagined it. I hated her a little more every time she reminded me of Hiashi, making me feel even guiltier.

I focused on Neji's hand again. But if I stayed like this, people would stare, and I could already hear the civilians whispering to each other. First, her brother had that public meltdown, and now this? Don't they have any pride? Plus, I didn't completely trust my and Neji's ability to find our way back to the compound on our own. Natsu took the same route every day, but a lot of the roads looked the same. And knowing Neji, we'd disagree on which way to go eventually.

I sighed lightly as I took Neji's hand and let him pull me up. I was barely upright when I felt his thumb against my palm.

What was that?

I should have stayed on the ground.

I overreacted, I wrote back on the back of his hand. He looked unsatisfied with that answer. I drew a line through the imaginary words and tried again with, Hanabi is heavier than she looks. I drew another line through it a second later. Even written, it felt off and flat.

I didn't want to think about what made me react like that to Hanabi any more than I had to, but I owed Neji a straight answer. I settled with: She has Hiashi's eyes. I stepped back, expecting to see hate in his eyes. I even expected him to turn and walk away at the mere mention of Hiashi so the babysitter wouldn't see.

He didn't do any of that. Instead, he looked at Hanabi, and I saw understanding in his eyes. It wasn't a basic understanding, like he understood the idea, but a deep understanding, like he knew exactly what I meant.

More than that, I was surprised that he was letting me see it. It wasn't often that Neji showed anyone that he could feel more than anger, and hate.

I had a sneaking suspicion that we were lost.

I squinted hard at a tree that looked suspiciously like the one we passed a few minutes before, complete with the U-shaped groove in the bark and the glint of something metal lodged under one of the roots. The babysitter was ahead of us, Hanabi squeezing her fingers as she walked next to her. She hadn't looked at me since her near-death experience earlier.

I had never been to this part of Konoha before. Natsu always led us through the busiest part of the village. I was used to the low-buzz of conversation as vendors were haggled with in the market, the sound of laughing and yelling as younger kids entertained themselves by playing tag or ninja. But now it was quiet, with the only sound being the occasional rustle from a squirrel in the bushes, or the wind. She never said it, but I knew Natsu chose to go that way to help us get used to being outside the clan for long periods of time.

I moved closer to Neji, lowering my voice to a whisper. "I bet 60 ryo that we pass that tree again." I wasn't sure how much longer I could walk in silence and pretend that I was still entertained by the sound of my sandals hitting the dirt.

Neji turned to look at said tree, then gave me a deadpan stare. "You don't have any money."

I raised an eyebrow at him. "So, you're saying that you think you would lose?"

His eyes lit up at the challenge. He glanced at the tree again, as if he might take on the bet anyway with our imaginary money. Then he shook his head, shaking off the threat of playfulness creeping up on him like a duck shaking off water. "I'm saying," he emphasized. "That it's pointless."

I huffed. "You should live a little, I hear it's fun."

Neji's eyes shot to mine, and I felt a small sense of victory at getting his attention again. "How is betting on a tree 'living'?"

I smiled and was about to answer when I caught part of a symbol carved into the tree behind him as we walked past it. It was a paper fan, with a curved line etched through the middle. Uchiha. I felt an itch started to form in my brain as several pieces clicked into place. The lack of anything around me. The fact that I'd never been here before. The isolation-

I walked face first into something hard. I stumbled back in a daze, sure that Neji would never let me live down the moment I walked straight into a tree. Then I noticed that the tree had legs. I saw a second pair of feet step up next to the first, and couldn't help but tense as laughter erupted above me. Of all the things to run into, it had to be an Uchiha. I would have felt less embarrassed if I tripped into a bush.

"Sheesh, Itachi. I know you have a talent for being invisible and all, but this is another level. You stopped walking, and she still didn't see you until it was too late."

My eyes widened at the name, but everything after that was drowned out by the sudden roar in my ears. I jerked my head up, darting from Itachi—who looked just as, if not more, embarrassed—to the boy standing next to him, holding a stick of dango. Shisui. He wasn't laughing anymore, but instead silently stared down at me, his eyes curious.

I never had much of a reason to think of the Uchiha Massacre before. It was always there in the back corner of my mind, gathering dust as more important events took the stage. Like what I promised Neji, or the Hyūga Affair. I turned my stare back to Itachi, who still wouldn't look at me. But now it was all I could think about. By the end of next year, Shisui would be dead. And the year after that, the Uchiha clan would be slaughtered.

In the background, I saw the babysitter's outline as she dropped into a low bow, apologizing profusely on my behalf. Itachi half-turned to look at her, assuring her that he didn't mind, but Shisui was still staring at me, locking me in place with his eyes. His left elbow was on Itachi's shoulder, his right absently twirling the dango stick.

I could still hear a faint echo of the Hyūga in me, insisting that I got a hold of myself and stare back until he looked away first. But all I could think was: A lot of people are going to die because of them. Even without the sharingan, it felt like Shisui could see into my head, and was slowly picking my thoughts apart. I was slammed with the abrupt fear that he knew, as if he could see his future just by looking at me.

"Hmm." He stopped twirling the stick. "Have something you want to say, little Hyūga?"

Even Itachi's attention was brought back to me at that. He studied me for a second, then looked up at Shisui, a question in his eyes. I quickly averted my gaze instead of answering, staring at the grass, the trees, anywhere but directly at him. It was the wrong move, but I couldn't stop myself.

I waited for Shisui to figure it out, for canon to collapse around me like a piece of paper being crumpled up and thrown away, but instead I felt fingers curl around my wrist. I tensed as I lifted my head, staring at Neji with wide eyes. He was standing between me and Shisui, somehow managing to glare at both of them at once. "Uchiha," he said tightly, using the same tone he normally only broke out for those in the main house.

Shisui bit off the last of the dango as he stared at him, but his eyes weren't as heavy as they were when he was looking at me. Neji didn't back down, squeezing my wrist.

"We really should be going," the babysitter cut in nervously before Neji learned how to glare them into imploding. She didn't move closer, standing out of range of the sparks flying between them. She kept a firm grip on Hanabi, who peeked out from behind her to watch.

"We should too," Itachi joined the conversation for the first time, directing a pointed look at Shisui.

Shisui blinked innocently back at him, breaking the staring contest. Neji took that as defeat by default and pulled me out of the line of fire, forcing me to walk with him. The babysitter exhaled in relief, but I barely heard it. I could still feel Shisui's stare on my back, see his knowing smile as his question bounced around my head.

Have something you want to say, little Hyūga?

I closed my eyes. I forgot that Neji was holding my hand until we neared the compound and he let go, leaving me feeling cold and alone.