Disclaimer: Characters are the property of Masashi Kishimoto and the Naruto franchise.

Author's Note: Thank you, Analon, for your continued support. It's nice to know that you came back to read the second chapter and I hope you enjoy this one! Thank you also to anybody else who stopped by to read these chapters. This chapter goes a little bit meta, and is probably more sentimental than funny, but I hope it delivers.

The instant they were out of the house and rounding the gates of the Uchiha compound, Itachi had known there was something up with his brother. As far as Itachi was concerned, it was as obvious as the effort Sasuke was putting into trying to hide it. His mouth was pursed in a thin line like he was holding back a frog, and when he thought Itachi wasn't looking his eyes would slide sideways and up to stare, or perhaps even glare, until Itachi looked back.

It was Saturday afternoon. Sasuke had come back from his half-day at school bouncing and cheerful as a puppy, although from what Itachi had grasped from the teachers' reports Sasuke was a very different kid in class.

Hardworking, but quiet, and requires prompting to contribute although his contributions are always useful.

To their surprise, Fugaku had come back from the Police Force HQ for lunch and Saturday lunch became that rare thing of a family meal. Itachi suspected it was because Mikoto had bought a crab the size of a coffee table the day before, but he couldn't help but wonder what strange jutsu had been employed to extract Fugaku from his HQ office. Having said that, Itachi himself was barely at home in the weekends any more. In fact, this was the first time he had been at home on Saturday for weeks? Months? Maybe three.

It had been a long mission. When Mikoto had unlocked the door for him in the early hours of the morning, holding a flickering candle above her head, in her momentarily suspicious then relieved gaze, he had felt like a stranger. "Welcome home," she had whispered, as he stepped over the threshold, and smelled the sweet wheat smell of tatami, and the spice of wood polish.

He had left to deliver his reports before the rest of the house had woken up. Sasuke and Fugaku must have been told over breakfast that Itachi had returned. For a moment, Itachi entertained himself with the thought that Fugaku had come back at lunch especially to see him. No. Definitely no. Absolutely not.

But just maybe?

Sasuke was scurrying along beside him, putting in a hop every now and again to keep up with his brother's strides. Itachi started slowing down, gently, so that Sasuke wouldn't notice.

Sasuke had seemed happy enough over the lunch table amidst flying crab shell pieces, perhaps even more so than usual. Mikoto had been showing him where to find the best meat. Itachi had taught him how to use a pick to get at the meat in the tips of the legs, and they had talked, although come to think of it, it had been mostly Fugaku and Itachi doing the talking, allowing, only for a few seconds, a brisk report from Sasuke on what he had learned at school. Unfortunately for Sasuke, something about their father, and these days Itachi, tended to turn conversations into conferences.

"Sasuke," Itachi had said, as he noticed his brother seem to shrink in on himself, "how about I show you a new shuriken trick after lunch?"

Fugaku sipped his soup. "Do you have time for that?"

"I've handed in my report. I should have a couple of hours before the next briefing."

A drop of water landed on Itachi's forehead and slipped down his nose. He looked up.

"Niisan, it's going to rain."

"Just our luck, eh?" Itachi sighed, turning to Sasuke. "We'll wait it out somewhere. It's probably only going to be a flash fall anyway."

"I've trained in the rain before," said Sasuke with a scowl.

"There's a road shrine just round those trees, we can wait it out there," Itachi continued as though he hadn't heard him, then added with a smile. "Don't do that too often. Mum will get worried."

It had been a clear blue sky moments earlier. As the lone black cloud passed over, neither a thunderhead nor a bank, just a single heavy cloud lost on a sunny day, Itachi and Sasuke took shelter under the eaves of the roadside shrine. The rain began to fall not much later.

"It's coming down quite heavier than I thought," Itachi remarked, peering round the eaves as Sasuke examined the offerings that had been left there. There was a cream bun. Someone had left a can of beer. "The ground's getting sticky. Sorry, Sasuke. We'll have to save that shuriken trick for another day. Next time."

"You always say that, Niisan," grumbled Sasuke, sitting on the ground. "Maybe next time. What next time? When is next time?"

That sounded like a rant waiting to happen. Itachi glanced down, then closed his eyes and sighed. "Was it something Father said at lunch?" Sasuke pursed his lips tighter. Ah, Itachi thought, that's the senbon in the target's eye. "He seems proud of how you're doing at school."

"Not as proud as he is of you," Sasuke replied quietly but with an edge of bitterness that told Itachi the boy had been brooding whilst his brother was way. "He's always talking about you. And whatever I do, he's always comparing me to you. And it's not just him. It's everybody. At school, all the teachers, they're always saying that I do well because I'm your brother, and they expect me to keep doing well because I'm your brother. The man at the dango shop, he keeps trying to sell me dango because you like them and I'm your brother."

Itachi couldn't help smiling. The last angry person he had 'had a discussion with' was a colleague disposing of a body. It was the same childish tone trying to express a sense of injustice they couldn't entirely explain. "We've had a similar conversation to this before, Sasuke."

"I know, Niisan," Sasuke said glumly. "But it doesn't stop them comparing me to you. They used to say I looked like Mum. Now they're even comparing how I look to you. 'Oh, little Sasuke's growing out his hair! Bless him, he's always chasing his brother.'"

"Is that an impression of Aunt Mitsuyo?" Sasuke put on an expression of wide-eyed innocence but there was a touch of a smirk to his face and Itachi laughed. "I see. Well, if you're worried about growing up to look like me, I have something to say about that."

The rain drummed on the roof. Itachi thought of Mikoto washing chickpeas in a bowl. He thought of the deadly patter of slingshotted stones falling all around him. He sat down beside Sasuke.

"I'm not worried I'm going to look like you," Sasuke said hastily.

"No, but you're worried you're always going to be compared to me; that you'll never get to be yourself; that you'll forever be mistaken for me as my shadow." Itachi looked Sasuke levelly in the eye, to make sure he was listening. "See these lines on my face?"

Sasuke nodded, curious, and then a flicker of a shadow passed over his face. "Father has them too."

"That's right, but just because I look like him doesn't mean he likes me any more than you."

"Niisan, I didn't say that," protested Sasuke.

"I know, but you were thinking it." Itachi chuckled as his little brother's face reddened. Sasuke was still so easy to read. "When people see the two of us standing side by side, these lines on my face instantly tells anybody comparing us the difference between you and me. We look similar, but very different, so we'll be able to live two separate lives without you being mistaken for me. These lines," Itachi lowered his voice and hardened his face into the cold mask he used for business, "they've been drawn on my face to make me look stern, cold and intimidating. I look like the bad guy, so that you, Sasuke, get to look like the good guy. Without them, we'd look just the same."

Sasuke stared at his face incredulously. "I don't think you could ever be a bad guy."

Itachi blinked. "Oh really?"

"Niisan, you can be whatever you want, but you wouldn't be happy being a bad guy. And me," Sasuke chewed his lip and scowled, "I'd suck at being a good guy."

Already brooding, habitually bitter and with a tendency to hold grudges, part of Itachi was tempted to agree, but he pushed the thought aside. As the cloud began to drift on and dissipate, the day was brightening and the rain clearing up. No doubt a person of the more sentimental disposition would look up and start searching for rainbows.

Itachi aimed his two fingers at the furrow between Sasuke's eyebrows and tapped.

"Ow!" Sasuke rubbed the spot between his eyes and peered vengefully up at him, before frowning again. "Niisan, why are you covering your face lines with your hands?"

To cheer you up, Itachi wanted to say. Wasn't that the universal purpose of embarrassing yourself by doing stupid things? To humour those around you? And besides, this was just for Sasuke. Nobody would know. "I'm showing you what you're going to look like in five years' time."

"I'm not going to look like you without your face lines," Sasuke argued petulantly.

"I look just like you," Itachi tried teasing him. Yes, the rain was easing off at last.

"No you don't." Sasuke looked at him closely, his black eyes surprisingly sharp for his age. "You look old. Not in the wise way. The tired and stressed way."

And Itachi had laughed about how easily he could read Sasuke, when Sasuke had been reading him back all along. As the old saying went, if you stare too long through a window, remember the glass goes both ways.

Rain dripped down off the corners of the shelter and that was it. The short spell of rain was over. Itachi stood up and brushed off his trousers.

"Remember to thank the spirit for the shelter," he told Sasuke.

The two of them put their hands together and briefly bowed their heads in front of the shrine. When they stepped out onto the road, it was glistening and damp. The air was fresh and smelled of pine sap and mulch.

"Watch out for the slugs and snails," Sasuke said earnestly as they stepped out from the shelter.

Itachi looked at him thoughtfully. "You're actually quite kind, aren't you, Sasuke?"

"No, I'm not," snorted Sasuke, his face glowing with embarrassment. "It's just gross, that's all. And if we're both going to be ninjas, we need practice watching where we walk."

Withholding the obvious comment that Itachi already was a ninja, and an efficient, much sought-after and deadly ninja at that, Itachi walked alongside his brother in silence, and wished that this moment would go on – this moment with just the two of them, walking side by side on a road filled with puddles, talking about bad guys and good guys like it would always be obvious who they were.