Well here I am, back for another update after almost a year. I'm happy to be picking up this fic again. I've been so busy I've only posted a few one shots recently, but I really hope to write more steadily on this fic in the future.

So here we have chapter three. Please read and review. I hope it was worth the wait.

-sor

Somewhere in the Fire Country - Uchiha Itachi

I awoke to the sound of birds. It was a sensation so familiar that my besieged mind was inclined to believe I was still in my own bed beneath my father's roof, listening to the morning birds in the cherry tree outside my window. As I lay there, I half expected to hear my mother's voice just down the hallway as she rapped lightly on Sasuke's door, waking him for school. But no; there was only the soft twitter of the birds.

I opened my eyes. The room was dim, lighted only by a single window high on the far wall through which sunlight streamed at an odd angle, falling across the foot of my bed to illuminate the worn blanket that had, at some far off time, been blue. The light played over it, making it seem at one moment grey and the next periwinkle, a fact that, due to my disorientation, mesmerized me for far too long. It took my mind more than a few moments to realize that I did not recognize this blanket, or this room. The view from the window suggested I was underground, for I could only see the grass and the base of a large oak. All else was obscured by the ceiling.

The old blanket was pushed away and I slowly sat up, lifting a hand to rub firmly at my temples. My head ached and I knew right away it was from more than the dim lighting in this strange room. It was a dull pain, just behind my eyes, brought on by the strain of using Mangekyou for far too long. I had felt this pain before, but never had it lasted through sleep and into the next morning.

I moved slowly, knowing that any sudden movement would only serve to heighten the pain, turning to swing my legs over the edge of the bed. It was then that I took a moment to further study my surroundings. The room was simple, dark stone walls lacking in any hint of color. Aside from a single rug in blues and greys, there was little to alter the cold image the place put off. It was lightly furnished, nothing more than the bed, a small chest of drawers, and a lightly cushioned arm chair, on which lay a pile of clothing, messily folded.

It was then that I came to the realization that I was no longer dressed in my own clothing, but a simple night shirt that was made for a man of much greater height. The sleeves hung too long as well, forcing me to take a moment to roll them up. Obviously it belonged to the man who had brought me here. The legendary traitor, Orochimaru.

Perhaps I should have been more wary of my current company, but it had not yet occurred to me to mistrust Orochimaru. After all, it was hardly as if he had quarrel with me; in fact, he had come to my aid. And what better place to hide away from the pursuing ANBU than with a man who had evaded them for nearly seven years? I considered my run in with Orochimaru to be a much needed stroke of luck. Still, I was more than curious of his intentions and intended to be as cautious as possible without offending the men who had saved my life.

After a moment's rest, I pushed myself to my feet, grasping the headboard with a white-knuckled strength. My firm grip turned out to be well worth the effort, for the moment I was on my feet, my vision swam and the room grew alternately dark and light. The sensation was nearly sickening in my current state of weakness and it caused my stomach to churn as if it were on the verge of an explosion. And to make matters worse, I could have sworn I heard my father voice echoing in my ear as if he intended to still hound me from beyond the grave with lectures concerning our family's blood and the hidden, forgotten, and all together dangerous strengths locked away.

Perhaps he was justified.

xxxx

It was common for my father to disturb me every evening when he returned from the police station; so common that by and by I began to avoid the house all together until supper. Eventually, I began to miss supper as well, citing missions and duties as excuses that I knew would never hold up under even the lightest scrutiny. I knew better than to think my father was not resourceful. Even ANBU mission records were not entirely secure from my father's prying eyes.

We continued in such a manner for some time, passing one another in silence, staring across the supper table while Sasuke chattered on about the academy. I hardly heard him. My mind was constantly burdened by worry. The looks father cast my way were impossible to bear and I found it much simpler to avoid his gaze all together. I ate little, spoke less, and always excused myself early. It was no wonder that the house began to feel as suffocating as an oven.

Eventually, even Sasuke's pleasant supper conversation faded away, leaving us to eat only in silence, glaring daggers at one another when we thought Sasuke was not looking. But children have a knack for seeing that which you try to hide from them and Sasuke was an Uchiha; a boy with eyes as observant as any of us. He watched me now more intently than ever, dark eyes wide and questioning. Some days he would sit for hours, gathering the courage to approach me, asking for kunai training or taijutsu practice, but behind those eyes, I could see his real intentions.

It was nearly midnight when I heard the soft patter of bare feet on the wooden floors of the hallway. The footsteps paused nearly as often as they moved, pausing the longest outside my door. I could see where the figure's feet disrupted the beam of moonlight that penetrated the crack beneath the door, however, I did not move. I would not welcome a boy who was too cowardly even to knock at his own brother's door.

Weak and cowardly, just like the rest of the clan.

Finally, though it seemed he spent an eternity hovering there outside my door, my thoughts were disrupted by the soft creaking of hinges as the door opened just far enough to admit Sasuke's slender form. He slipped inside as a wraith might, pushing the wooden door closed as silently as the hinges would allow. And still he stood silently, staring at me from the shadows as if I would rise from my blankets and eat him alive. Finally, though, he inched forward, releasing a soft noise when he realized I was awake. "Nii-san..."

With an exaggerated sigh I sat up, never taking my eyes from the boy beside the door, his words met with only heavy silence. It was not in me to nurse the words from his lips. If my pathetic little brother had a reason for such a late visit, he could speak on his own. If not, his words were not worth my time to begin with.

We remained in such silence for some time, Sasuke shuffling his feet and wringing his hands alternately and still refusing to meet my gaze. But finally, when I began to feel my patience with him was at an end, he seemed to gather his courage and step further into the room, fixing me with an angry glare. "What's going on, nii-san?"

"Is something going on, Sasuke?"

My indifference did not sit well with him and his small face contorted in momentary rage; a rage that helped him forget his fear and plunge forward with a stronger determination. "You know exactly what I mean, nii-san. Father won't even talk to you and today he told me not to follow after you. Why? What does that mean?" He drove forward boldly, grabbing hold of my arm, small fingers digging into my flesh. "Nii-san?"

My eyes closed, but even then I could feel his gaze on me as painfully as the force of his fingers. I should have been pleased that he would come to me rather than pledging blind obedience to our father, but it only made me further ill to think he'd been so afraid to speak of it. It was not a sin to question; even to question our father. "You will find, Sasuke, that all the great clans fear that which they cannot control."

When I opened my eyes, I found my little brother staring boldly at me, eyes round and uncertain. With a sigh, I reached forward, poking his forehead gently, and just as he did every time, Sasuke scowled and rubbed at the spot. "Nii-san..."

"Father was right, Sasuke." My hand came to rest atop his head, ruffling his unkept hair, already tousled from sleep. "You shouldn't follow after me." He reached up to shove my hand away and I allowed it, letting it fall back into my lap as if it were my own choice. "Men should choose their own path, not follow that which has already been tread by another."

If Sasuke understood, he said nothing to confirm it, only rubbing at his forehead once more and grimacing at having allowed me to make such an obvious attack. "But, nii-san, I want to be ANBU, too. I want to show everyone that I can be just as strong as you." He had been beaming at me for a moment, but the joy in his expression quickly faded. "But I haven't even activated my Sharingan yet. When you were my age, you were already a real ninja."

Releasing a soft sigh, I gave the side of his head a quick, but gentle shove. "You haven't heard a thing I said, Sasuke." If he didn't learn at least to listen, how could I ever expect him to be bright enough to realize what really went on behind our father's closed doors? "You're not supposed to be just like me. It doesn't matter if you haven't activated your Sharingan. What matters is that you find your own path based on your own talents and goals. Don't allow yourself to become blinded by ambition." I simply couldn't allow my own little brother to become the latest casualty of our clan's propaganda.

"But father said that our clan was defined by strength and that if I were to lead the clan one day, I would have to learn to improve more quickly." Not realizing exactly what he had let slip, Sasuke continued to bombard me with his usual eager pleas. "That's why I need you to have shuriken practice with me again. I'll only be able to become strong if you help me!"

The jabbering went on, but I no longer heard it. Was this father's intention now - to grant his title and inheritance to Sasuke? There had been nothing spoken of this, at least not within my earshot, and so I could only assume that father had maintained his silence for a reason. Most likely cowardice. No doubt he was afraid of how I would react should I learn I was to be disowned. How very typical.

"Ne, Sasuke," I interrupted his chatter with a gentle hand on his shoulder. "I'm afraid I won't have time anymore for shuriken practice." His expression turned first shocked, then forlorn, but I continued before he could take sincere offense. "You've already learned quite a bit from me. You won't need me anymore."

No, he no longer needed me for shuriken practice, nor would he need me for anything else once father had his way. There was no doubt now in my mind that he had turned against me, now in deed as well as thought. Whatever lasting shreds of loyalty I had held for my father were shattered. If he were willing to abandon his heir, I saw no further reason to hope for resolution between us.

Sasuke had remained silent at my side, staring mournfully at his bare feet. It was purely by instinct that I ruffled his hair again, the big brother in me unable to ignore his distress, even in the face of much larger problems. "We'll talk about it tomorrow, Sasuke. I promise."

He said nothing, but simply started towards the door, ignoring me in the manner he always did when he was especially upset. But I reassured myself he would forget his anger by morning.

As he reached the door and began to slide it open I spoke again. The words were unplanned, and likely unwise, but they came of their own volition. "Be vigilant, Sasuke. But remember, the things you see right before your eyes are not always the things you should trust. You must learn to see beyond the surface or you will grow to be nothing more than a pawn of the powerful."

xxxx

I stirred from my thoughts, not knowing if hours had passed or only minutes. The dark, coolness of the deserted hallway returned to me along with the dull, but resilient pain just behind my eyes and once again, I was alone. I lifted a hand, fingertips pressing against the rough stone hard enough to leave tiny pinprick indentations from the sharp, uneven surface. That one instant of pain was enough to fully restore my senses to the point in which I detected the sound of voices.

They seemed distant at first, but I realized they were only muffled by the stone walls and could not really be so far off as they seemed. Still, they were indistinct. Words escaped me and so I inched forward, moving now with a deliberate silence until I reached a doorway that, unlike the rest, stood halfway open. And there I listened.

"The time to strike is now. The leader moves too cautiously." The voice was one I recognized with ease. It was the man who had come to my aid beside the river. Orochimaru.

The second voice, however, was unfamiliar. I had expected the response to follow in the deep, rasping voice of the strange, scorpionesque man who had accompanied the Legendary Traitor, but instead this new voice was soft. It carried a tone of authority, yet sounded as if it came from a man no older than myself. "The leader has his reasons. He wishes to bolster our ranks to prepare for the battles to come. We are too few to be so reckless."

"Does he gather us, then, to see our talents go unused? The time is now! The boy is still young and the village is in an uproar! Who would notice a single boy's disappearance?" Orochimaru's words melted into a soft chuckle. "Who would miss him?"

"And where would you propose we keep the boy?" Still calm, the unknown voice held only the first hints of annoyance. "I do not intend to babysit him and I'm certain the leader feels the same. Besides, he means to send someone else for the Kyuubi."

"Who better to send for the Kyuubi than me?"

Where I had expected a response, there came only a heavy silence. It was as if all life in that room had ceased to exist. That is, until the door slowly opened and my childish snooping was put to an end. I was not greeted with anger, as I had expected, but only with a faint grin from the Legendary Traitor. Still, I had enough sense to be ashamed. "Forgive me, Orochimaru-san."

"No need for all that." He stepped aside, gesturing that I might join him within.

The room was modest, containing a small table and a trio of chairs, a small stove, and a handful of small cabinets. On the table sat two cups of tea, steam rising steadily from within. One cup sat before an empty chair, the other before a man who sat with a posture that managed to be both stiff and relaxed. Though I could not put a name to it, my eyes detected something that seemed almost unnatural about him.

The strange man offered a more subdued smile and made a gesture towards the third unoccupied chair. "The boy looks a bit ill. You should offer him some tea, Orochimaru."

Realizing I had been standing far too long in the doorway I stepped inside, not wanting to be rude. However, I could not help but be wary. Without a doubt, these were dangerous men and they had yet to give any indication that I was any safer in their presence than I had been faced with ANBU.

Without a word, I slid into the offered chair, refusing to succumb to my exhaustion and slouch against the wooden back. In a pit of vipers, a man learns quickly not to lower his guard. So it was when a steaming cup of tea was placed before me, I did not drink. I merely placed my hands carefully around the chipped ceramic, soaking up the warmth and staring for a moment at the distorted reflection cast in the dark liquid. The face that peered back seemed haggard and unfamiliar.

Could a day really do so much to age a face?

Feeling a growing sense of discomfort from my own reflection, I raised my gaze only to find the pair of men watching me. Orochimaru sat in silence, though the gleam in his eye spoke volumes. His gaze seemed to pierce me and I lacked the strength to defend. But it was his companion that worried me more. The man sat in perfect stillness and it even seemed to my eyes that his chest did not rise and fall with his breaths. Had I not heard him speak moments before, I may have wondered if there were any life in him at all.

Then, as if he had heard every thought, the man shifted, offering a brief bow. "Uchiha Itachi, forgive my rudeness." Even as he spoke, the man's expression remained perfectly blank. "Of course, you no doubt know Orochimaru, formerly of Konohagakure."

The Legendary Traitor bowed his head briefly, though those eyes never left me. My gaze lingered only for a moment upon him before looking away, once more placing my focus on the other. "And you are?"

"Akasuna no Sasori." Again he nodded his head in greeting, a faint smirk forming on his otherwise lifeless face, amused, no doubt, by my obvious surprise.

It was a name not unknown to some members of the Konoha ANBU. It was beneficial to have knowledge of those most dangerous criminals, even should they come from enemy villages. Men with no loyalties were the most dangerous, after all. "You are Akasuna no Sasori? The man responsible for the death of the Third Kazekage... or so I have heard. An S-Ranked criminal who disappeared nearly twelve years ago. You are that man?"

If my knowledge of his crimes came as any surprise, his face showed no sign. Sasori merely nodded again in acknowledgement of my words. "I see my name has reached the Leaf as well."

Feeling somewhat bolder, I pushed forward, unwilling to sit idle before a man of such questionable reputation. "Then you would understand why I would suddenly doubt your hospitality. Why would an S-Rank criminal be so eager to accommodate?"

Orochimaru leaned forward over the table, the gleam in his eye turning almost dangerous. "Are you not an S-Rank criminal yourself, Itachi-kun?"

The words struck me like lightning and I failed even to notice his soft laughter. How foolish of me to forget. In the light of a new day, had it really been so easy to imagine myself still a part of my village, an ANBU captain, the heir to the Uchiha clan? Had it been so easy to forget all I had done?

Sasori's gaze remained empty as he held up a hand, silencing any further taunting from his partner. "You have questions, Uchiha. I understand. However, I hope you can understand our position. Akatsuki cannot risk granting knowledge to a boy that is not a part of the organization."

Where I had been familiar with the name Akasuna no Sasori, the name Akatsuki was quite the opposite. Even I had to admit that my curiosity was piqued. "Akatsuki?"

Having heeded Sasori's wishes, Orochimaru's expression had turned more serious save for the faint curl of his lip, a smirk that would never quite vanish. "Akatsuki. An organization of powerful ninja; men and women who had fled their villages for one reason or another."

"An organization of criminals, then?" Even I could not help but allow a faint smirk. That I would be taken in by such men could not be mere coincidence. "And what reason would criminals have for forming such an organization?"

For the first time, Sasori's face took on a more human expression, a very faint, but almost understanding smile. "Akatsuki has many goals and each of us, goals of our own, as well. But when all is said and done, there is only one true purpose in Akatsuki.

"To unite all ninja under a single banner. To destroy the corrupt, powerful Hidden Villages and bring an end to the ninja wars that have plagued our history since the dawn of time. To bring about a single ninja order that serves only the cause of peace in this world."