Harry stands alone at the edge of a grassy knoll. His mother and father have told him time and time again not to go this far, not to get so close. He’s one step away from where its emerald green and dewy blades start crumbling, dying, and turning a dark, muddy brown.
He calls out, “She is with you, is she not?” His fists clench and unclench. They feel empty. “None wish for it to be, but I know she is here… She has told me about you.”
The one with which he speaks isn’t visible, but Harry knows they are there watching, waiting. Harry can feel them laughing.
He steps forward.
The forest ahead is dense and brittle. The absence of canopy leaves should set its facade in bright relief, yet the shadows here are harsher than ever. He knows it is not his eyes playing tricks—this place is born and blessed by something other.
Demands are not to be made lightly with beings such as gods. However, Harry does not care to heed this warning told thousands of times in thousands of ways. So he raises his chin and states clearly, “Give Ginny back.”
All sound stops.
Where once there were the distant chirps of birds—even they will not fly too close to this place—their songs have vanished. The slight breeze through the branches that rattled and shook has gone. Harry suddenly wonders if he has never been able to hear his heartbeat at all, for that has left as well.
Out from the deep, the dark, the dense, a being emerges. It is liquid and smoke and steam; it is night and pitch and black. It forms and shapes. A creature tall and cloaked, shrouded by smog, coalesces.
It is horrific. It looks like a monster trying to mimic a man.
Red eyes peer out and burn into Harry. The silence stretches until— “You may take her, little hero,” it speaks. The voice that comes out grates, and Harry catches a glint of wide, sharp teeth. “If you find her.”
The beast raises its hand, reaching out to him. Harry does not move.
AU. Following the nine tails attack, Mikoto Uchiha takes in an orphaned Naruto Uzumaki as her own. Naruto Sasuke and Itachi are then raised like brothers, and after the massacre, everything changes. Eventual naruhina/ sasusaku/other couples. Rated M for future chapters.
: a special shout-out to tenzoukohai for helping me with this :)
Mikoto stood frozen in place, staring through the glass in front of her at a sleeping baby boy. He looked so peaceful. So blissfully unaware of the tragedy that already consumed his young life. She analyzed him, looking for even a sliver of resemblance to her passed friend. Disappointingly she took in his blonde hair and realized that even if he was Kushina’s son, he was sure to take on more of his father.
Minato. She had a vague idea of what happened; the two of them sacrificing their lives and placing that beast inside of their child, all for the sake of the village. She closed her eyes and tried to steady her breathing. She would not cry again. She knew it was not what Kushina would have wanted. She and Minato had given their lives for her own and for the others around her, and she would not seem unappreciative of that fact by continuing to cry. At least not here. Not in front of their son.
She knew how ostracized this child would be for harboring a monster – something he himself had absolutely no control over. And even worse, he would be completely alone. An orphan practically left to fend for himself. She became painfully aware of the small frame in her arms and young boy by her side. She squeezed her son’s hand and turned to face him, offering him a sad smile. He started at her blankly, obviously much too young to understand the gravity of the situation, but perceptive enough to pick up his mother’s emotions. He returned her squeeze and continued to stare into her eyes until she looked away, facing the young boy through the glass once more. She thought about Itachi, and how he had been raised up until then. He had always known love – protective, strict love, but love nonetheless. She rubbed her fingertips against the back of Sasuke’s head with the fingers that were already supporting his tiny neck, and knew that he too would know love. Would Kushina’s son be so lucky as to experience that? Despite his situation, his fallen parents and the beast inside him, would someone come to love him, cherish him, watch after him?
She slowly closed her eyes again, but this time, she was not trying to gain control over her emotions. Instead, she was trying to gather her confidence. She would not leave him – could not leave him. They had given their lives for this village. The least she could do was take care of the life they had left behind… their poor baby boy.
Although she could not hear him, she could see that Naruto had begun to cry. She wondered if he felt a similar ache, if he already somehow knew that no one had come for him. Her heart leapt in her chest. She felt a tremendous need to care for this young boy. New tears welled in her eyes.
“Okaasan.” She felt a tug on her arm, and she looked down to see Itachi staring at her questioningly. “Why are you crying?” She took her hand from her son’s and patted his head affectionately.
“Come, Itachi. We’re going home now.”
--
“Absolutely not.” He pronounced each syllable slowly, as if trying to make himself more clear. As if he hadn’t been clear enough the first time.
“Fugaku, please…”
“Mikoto! I won’t say it again. We have no need to take care of that boy. He’s not an Uchiha, he’s an outsider—“
“He is a child!”
Mikoto was not one to argue with her husband. In fact, most people weren’t. As a trusted clan head it was not often that Fugaku experienced opposition. She couldn’t think of any other time she had fought so hard for something. She hoped Fugaku realized that too, that she was serious.
He glared at her but did not speak. He was giving her a chance to apologize for the tone she was taking with him.
But her tone was not something she felt the need to apologize for.
“Fugaku, they gave their lives! Kushina… gave her life…” Her anger dissipated into sadness. As much as Fugaku wanted to continue arguing with her, he could not help but offer his wife some small comfort. He leaned over the table that separated them and placed his hand on her small forearm. She looked up at him, and at the sight of her tear streaked cheeks and slightly puffed out red eyes, most of the fight left his voice.
“He is not ours to take care of, Mikoto.”
“I have never asked you for much,” she said to him. “I am asking you to please, please, let me care for this child… the child of my friend. At least until he is old enough to care for himself.” Fugaku turned away from her, and although his frustration was radiating off of him, she continued, her voice dropping to a whisper. “I’ve already given up so much…”
He pulled himself away from her then, and was about to make another remark when Mikoto raised her hand in front of her, as a way to respectfully quiet him. She had heard the familiar sound of padding footsteps, the ones of her eldest son. She looked over her shoulder and saw Itachi pulling his head back behind the wall, trying to appear as if he wasn’t peeking on them. “Itachi,” Fugaku called, moving away from the table. “Why are you awake?” his tone was darker than the one he usually took with Itachi, and Mikoto knew it was because she had angered him. She stood from her seat, deciding to give up their disagreement for the night, telling herself he had not heard the last of this.
“I will take care of Itachi,” she said softly. She could not meet his gaze; she stared transfixed at his chest for a few seconds before looking at the ground beneath her. She sighed softly, quickly composing herself before she had to act normal in front of her son. As she turned away from her husband she felt him grab her arm. Eyes wide, she turned to face him.
He released her arm and cupped her face tenderly, his thumb resting on her cheekbone. Seemingly forgetting Itachi was there, he spoke to her again. “Mikoto. I have made you my wife. I strive for your happiness.” She didn’t speak. Instead, she closed her eyes, ever so slightly leaning in to his touch. “Is this really what you want to do? You want to take on this responsibility?” She nodded imperceptibly.
“Itachi, to your room. Okaasan will be there shortly.”
When she sensed that Itachi had left their vicinity, she opened her eyes to meet her husband’s gaze. He leaned in closely, his mouth to her ear, giving nothing away until he whispered roughly: “He is not my son. Do not expect me to treat him as such.” With that he released his hold on her and turned away, leaving her alone with her thoughts.
Seeing Liam pressed up against Louis, soft, satisfied smile lighting up his face, does pretty much make Zayn want to crawl into a hole and stay there for a while but this is much much worse. He prefers Liam fussing over Louis to see him biting his lips until they’ve about to burst.
