Disguised Curses- a series of Outtakes

Hello! I must remind you: If you are not current in the main story Disguised Curses, TURN BACK NOW AND GO READ.

There was a double update, this is important. Go read that. Now.

....

......

.........

And now that you have... An author's note of Doom.

 

This chapter was written quite a while ago. Nearly two years ago, when parts of DC were clear in my head but before some of my plot bunnies got wild hairs in their brains and did funky things to me. There will be detail discrepancies between what we know now, in DC, both about Itachi and the clan and how I've built his memories, and what is contained in this chapter. Please ignore those discrepancies. If something really bothers you, just remember that the details in the main story are the ones to stick close to, not necessarily all of these here.

This chapter includes flashbacks, nightmares, shifting animals, and other weird things. It is, by technicality, not 'finished', due to growing clashes between main-story-facts and what I've written of it so far. I am not taking even more time to 'fix' these 'problems', simply posting this as an addendum that will help fill in the blanks. My vision of Itachi here is how he would have been if a) he hadn't been coerced into slaying the clan, and b) he's really a good guy at heart. Itachi with a clean slate and just being completely himself, no past influence and prejudices. Also, use the assumption he left whatever 'trinkets' he had saved here hidden somewhere when he finally returned to Konoha, to protect himself better. I may or may not cue that into the main story later on.

 

I hope you all enjoy reading this as much as I have writing it.

 

---- end author's note. Start fic -----

 

 

 

 

 

His first acknowledged thought wasn’t even a full thought. Just overwhelming sensation; pain so deep that he couldn’t tell if any part of his body wasn’t hurting. A pulsing throb beat against his eyes and temples, his chest and lungs felt aflame, and his limbs felt beaten. The darkness surrounding him was barely recognized as having his eyes closed against the pounding pain in his head. Just simply opening his eyelids took so much effort that it was hard to maintain the necessary concentration. Dim light filtered in barely cracked lids, a mixed blessing at best. The light was dim enough it didn’t provoke the already raging headache, but it was just enough to note that his vision was blurry. Was it supposed to be fuzzy and distorted? He couldn’t even tell where he was.

Hell, he couldn’t even tell if he was sitting or laying, though he was confident in his inability to be standing at that particular moment.

He hadn’t noticed his eyes sliding shut when he felt another presence around him- one that he couldn’t recognize, couldn’t focus enough to try and identify it. But the soft touched of a damp cloth felt familiar, wiping over his shoulders, neck, and forehead. It was cooling, relaxing. It soothed the pain a little, just enough he could do more than feel raw agony. He tried opening his eyes again, still finding that his sight hadn’t improved.

“You’re awake. You’re in a cave, laying on your right side. You are safe, in friendly territory.” The gentle masculine voice didn’t sound particularly young or old, but the words implied experience dealing with soldiers and ninja enough to relay the important facts that could keep a potentially violent situation from becoming too hostile. He couldn’t force words out of a throat sore and stiff with disuse. The bodiless voice came back. “You sustained heavy injuries in a fight. There’s a gash on your left ribcage that has been slowly healing. You were at death’s door when I found you. You are not quite fully healed but being awake is marked improvement. You were unconscious for three weeks, and spent the last eleven days struggling with fever and trying to shrug off all the general side effects. I managed to get it to break last night but it’s been a very close battle.” Something soft brushed his lips and he tried to lick it. It was cold, and wet- he drew the corner of the wet rag into his mouth, sucking the chilly water from it to soothe his throat. The cold almost burned going down, and he began to cough. Shudders wracked his body as it curled on itself and he tried not to hurt himself further. Finally his body stopped quaking and he lay listlessly on the thin blanket protecting him from the dirt floor.

“Relax, try to get some more sleep. I’ll be here when you wake with more fluids, and something light for you to eat. For now just try to let your body heal.”

He relented to the growing need to close his eyes and shut out everything. Maybe in time, when he next woke, the pain would be gone. He could only hope.

 

***

 

He grunted as he rolled over, a shoulder landing on a small rock that promptly bit into his flesh. The small, sudden pain woke him up and he sat up shakily. He blinked, and a dirt wall and floor met his fuzzy eyes. A cave, he thought. So the voice, vaguely remembered from before, had been speaking the truth. He stopped and took a mental catalog of himself. He still had a mild ache behind his eyes, but nothing like the pounding before. His ribs throbbed, in and out. His eyesight was blurry but not as bad as before, and something about this surprised him. He couldn’t remember why  though. He felt generally stiff, but if the other’s outline of time was correct, that was unsurprising.

“Ninja- san?” He turned to the owner of the voice, seeing him for the first time. A short middle aged man stood about ten feet from him. “Do you remember anything? Your name? Where you are from?”

The exhausted man shook his head. He couldn’t remember much before the last time he awoke here. He tried to think of his name, of his home, and met a wall in his mind so thick with grief he physically shook. He backed away from that thought and tried a simpler one. Why did I expect to be blind?  The resulting picture was confusing, and almost creepy- a pair of burning red eyes with three black dots within. Were those his? He wasn’t sure, and didn’t get the chance to figure it out, for chasing on the heels of that mental picture was another- one of a crackling creature, a beast of lightning running down at him. It shook him abruptly from his self-perusal.

He rose from his tumbled position, panting.  It took a few minutes before he gathered himself and managed to acknowledge his caretaker. “It seems I owe you my life, and apparently, my sight as well.”

“Don’t thank me yet. You’ll probably be at least partially blind in one, if not both eyes. I was uncertain on how to heal certain of your injuries. It appears your health was bad, and whatever battle you were in left you in a drastic condition. Keeping up with whatever made you sick in the first place was actually a losing battle.” He handed Itachi a small flask of water, which was gladly drunk down. “I had to use a very unique gift to cure you. The illness is gone, and your body should be nearly complete in its repairs. Except for your eyes, which are healing at a slower rate but seem to be improving.”

Silence hung for a few minutes as the ninja absorbed the information, quietly accepting the small bowl of broth. “Then I still owe you for saving my life. You didn’t have to bother to take the time, but you spared me quite a bit of your time and effort.”

“Then pay me back by taking care of yourself better, and taking time to enjoy life. You looked far too worn out for someone of your age.” The look on his face must have been self-evident, because the man continued on. “If you’re over twenty-five then I am a teenager again.” A wry smile passed the older man’s lips, but it was not returned.

“Why can’t I remember anything? Did you..?” The idea hadn’t occurred until he spoke but now, he wondered. Could his healer have wiped his memories or sealed them away?

“I have done nothing to your mind except keep fever from frying it whole. It is most likely whatever happened before I found you, combined with the lengthy time you were unconscious, that your mind simply locked away the most extreme or troubling memories. If that happens to be everything, then I can only hope it doesn’t last too long.”

“You called me ninja.” There had to be a reason, a symbol... ah, yes. “Was I wearing a headband?” Little, random details were filtering in, most vague or general knowledge. Remotely, he knew a headband would bear the symbol of the nation he was loyal to.

“No. I knew it from your weapons, which I saved. Your clothing were beyond repair and blood-soaked.” He pointed to a small pile of shiny metal on the other side of the fire. “Your sword, a few kunai and shuriken. They have been lightly washed but not tended. Only enough to keep them from rusting. I did manage to save this though, since I wasn’t sure how important it is to you.” He pulled a dark cord from a pocket, revealing three beads woven into the material. They were dark blue, with white circles painted onto them. On one side was a little red dot, and as he looked over one critically, he saw it made a vague fan shape. The sight triggered a wash of appreciation, and yet shame.

“My necklace.” It was important to him, but the why escaped his fumbling reach. His hand began to shake. “Can you hold onto it for me? For a bit longer?” He didn’t want to lose this. It seemed a vital link somehow- if he could only use it.

The older man nodded and accepted the choker, noting how the recovering one was starting to shiver. “Your body hasn’t adjusted yet. Take a nap, relax your body and mind. We can continue in a while.”

Words followed a feeble head shake. “I need to get my memories back. I need to know who I am, at least. A name, anything.” Dark eyes blinked rapidly, a sure signal his sight was blurring again. He’d only had a brief respite from the fuzziness.

“Rest and relax. Pushing yourself will impede your healing and possibly reverse it.” A firm hand on his shoulder pushed him into a reclining position, gently. “If you must force yourself to think, at least do so comfortably. No sense in letting yourself tumble from exhaustion.” The collapse of a few minutes before had him worried, though he hadn’t said anything. If there were anything fighters had in common, it was stubbornness and willpower. He’d personally seen ninja continue fighting while ignoring injuries that would have made civilians collapse and die. Some had died when they had pushed themselves before recovering properly. He didn’t want to watch it in another, while in his care.

 

The wounded, recovering young man let his body collapse against the pillow that had joined his bedding at some unknown point. The stretching of his midsection reminded him of the wounds on his torso, and he paused. His healer had said he should be mostly healed. With some hesitance, he pulled up his shirt, and peered with curiosity at the pale flesh that greeted his eyes. Faint silvery and white lines scattered here and there, old scars. The twinge came from a brighter, pinker line, almost as wide as his pinky, marring from the middle of his rib cage to just into the soft zone of the belly. It was healed, with no scab, but the flesh was still new, and pulled uncomfortably against the surrounding skin. It’d turn into quite a scar.

He lowered his shirt, letting it fall smoothly over defined muscle and creamy skin. His attention fell on his hands next, noting the fact they seemed.. well, girlish. The finger pads had calluses, proof of the long practice with weapons and hard work. But the digits were long and slender, not quite frail, but not manly, in some way. An unbidden thought appeared- he had pianist’s hands. He could remember someone saying that once, but the instant he tried to catch the memory, it was gone. He could remember it had been said, but not who, or when. It frustrated him- almost as much as when he tried to recall what a pianist was, that, too, escaped him. He closed his eyes, suddenly tired and vision blurring. Details were merging with each other in confusing ways. His mind swirled, until finally he slid unnoticed into sleep.

 

***

 

“Aniki?! Why??” Such pouting in those words, a little boy’s whine.

“You never play with me anymore. When will you come help me?” Disappointment, pouting, but much less whine. The voice didn’t seem much older.

“But I don’t want to die!” Terror, such vivid terror. Only the type instilled when in fear for one’s life. The words were laced with sobs.

“I’ll kill you! I swear it!” The hate, and menace, so strong. How could anyone hold such intense negativity in their soul? It was the same as the other two voices, but older.

“Forgive me, brother. But I cannot regret this end. It is your justice finally meted out.” Such calm coldness in these words. The voice believed, this was the real end. Maybe it should have been....

 

“Goodbye, Itachi.”

 

 

The raven- haired young man bolted awake, shaking. He’d already lost count of the times he’d had that dream, but it still terrified him. He didn’t, couldn’t recall anything surrounding the scenes those words belonged to, but the tones and words spoke enough. He had spent days trying to put the pieces together but still, all that he could figure was that the owner of that voice was presumably family. If he was the one being spoken to- something the medic had softly supported as being likely- then the boy’s voice was a younger brother. His own name was Itachi. But still, only the dream had given him pieces, ideas of his past, and it was boding poorly for it. What had he done to make his own flesh and blood hate him? What could be so horrible that he couldn’t remember? It made him almost want to not remember.

“The usual?”

“Hai.” He really didn’t like that dream, but couldn’t help it.  “Roma-san? It’s been a week, I’m almost healed. What are you going to do when we are done here?”

The older male cast a criticizing look over his younger charge. He had, indeed, healed since even that first waking. The only thing that really hadn’t improved was the boy’s memories. “I will stay here for a while longer. You may go whenever you feel like it.”

Leave? He had nowhere to go yet, no recollection of home. And even if he knew, he wasn’t sure if he’d be welcomed back. Worries plagued him like angry wasps, never retreating far before returning and sinking him into a deep, lingering headache. He needed something else to think about, if only for a little while. He’d already cleaned and sharpened his weapons to a shine and able to shave with. He’d stretched and exercised his body as much as he dared, working the muscles without tearing any of the old wounds or re-injuring anything. “You’re restless, but dare not think too much. I have an idea for you.”

Itachi focused on his host. The older man settled calmly to the floor, indicating the young man to follow suit. “Meditation will help you clear your mind, calm it, and possibly help in sorting some of your random memories. But beyond that, it is time for you to learn of the gift I passed on to you when I healed your broken body.” As he spoke shadows appeared and thickened around his eyes, until at a careful glance it could be seen as a  soft fur outlined the man’s eyes. The hands settled onto his knees also darkened, and the finger nails grew into short dark claws. “You have the same gift I do, now… but your transformation will be different. At least, what you turn into will most likely be different- the gift is unique to each person.”

Itachi simply stared in wonder. Some random detail said that some of the nin clans could do stuff like this, but that was jutsu based… and this seemed decidedly not so. He watched in avid fascination as the man’s body flowed smoothly into that of a rather large raccoon, fur lengthening around his body as it diminished drastically in size. When the once-human crawled out from the pants he’d been sitting in- he’d forgone the shirt- a big slightly bushy tail was revealed.

“Wow.” He couldn’t help it, he couldn’t recall anything in the few memories he did have that suggested him having ever seen anything quite like this before. “I will be able to do this?” To his further surprise the raccoon nodded, then assumed a sitting position like before, only a bit more awkwardly. Itachi shifted a little until he was again sitting, comfortably, and observed his new teacher. The coon couldn’t talk, but he could mimic the breathing patterns, attempt at the calm concentration the little man-turned-animal radiated.

And the coon was serene. Animals, even at rest, were never so relaxed, do to the nature of life, of prey and predator. But nothing but the slight twist and swivel of the coon’s ears betrayed its alertness in this relaxed state. Itachi smiled softly and set himself into a light meditation trance, something he didn’t really understand with words but his body and mind found easily, like crawling back into a familiar coat. To his surprise, he found himself in an unrecognized room, floor covered in tatami mats, curious fan symbols painted on the walls. A line of torso sized earthen-ware jars lined one wall. It felt like what home should feel like, and on the heels of that thought came a certainty that this was once his home. Or at least a room from it. In his mental landscape he walked across the room, trying to lift the lids from each of the jars. None of them moved. He couldn’t even get them to jiggle in place. He turned away from the jars, hoping for a means of maybe triggering more memories, and found a slightly shadowed door in the far wall. He found a handle, light barely peeking around the seams of the not- quite closed door, and pushed it open.

Light filled his vision, like stepping out into bright day after being shut in a dark room. It took him a minute to realize he’d come outside, where the floor was replaced with lush grass, flowers, and shrub. There was movement within the tall grass, something small and dark flitting back and forth, continuously staying out of sight. Itachi sat down carefully, watching for movement drawing near him, and scanned the area. Trees a short distance away, forming a clearing he now sat in the middle of. The door he walked through to get here was gone. He tried to focus in on the movement, but it had stopped, and he could almost make out that there was indeed something hiding in the grass several yards away, but it was hidden well enough he couldn’t tell what it was. He waited for hours. Every time he tried to move or make a gesture at the thing, it would dart away, never closer, never completely leaving his little peaceful clearing. And so he finally lay back into the grass and waited. He still hadn’t gotten a good look at it by the time he drifted asleep, lulled into quiet comfort by the peace of this place.

 

 

This time a woman’s face appeared in his dreams, a kind face and black hair, soft smile. She looked happy, so happy. She put a hand out and ruffled his hair- he had to be young, he felt like he should have been looking up at her. “No matter what he says, you were always his pride. Never forget, even if he doesn’t say it, he is proud of you Itachi.  We will always be proud of you.” Fingers traced over the curve of his cheek…. And she faded.

 

 

Itachi blinked, eyes opening to look at the roof of the cave. Hadn’t he gone into meditation sitting up? But then, maybe… he remembered falling asleep and dreaming while in that odd grassy place. Maybe he’d laid back and fallen asleep, physically, here as well. He mulled over the face from his dream. He rose from his place and left the cave, wandering down to the stream that ran behind a curve of hill. Once there he studied his reflection, comparing his face with what he could remember of her face. He was tracing his hand down the spot where that phantom hand had brushed across his cheek when Roma approached him from the side peripheral. “Itachi-san?”

He was quiet for a long moment, staring into the water. “How long was I asleep?” He wanted more of those memories, if they were as nice as that one. It gave him back a piece of his hope. The healer- Itachi wasn’t sure if he could think of the male as being human now, it was weird, still. The other male shrugged, a serious look on his face. “Half an hour, I think? It wasn’t for long. I noted the difference when you relaxed out of mediation and into a proper nap. You seemed relaxed for once.”

Itachi swirled his hand in the stream, creating ripples as he thought further about what he remembered. “I think I saw my mother when I was dreaming. I’m not positive- but what I can remember of the face looks much like mine. She was saying…” He stalled on his words, feeling them too personal at the moment. “She was proud of me.” He finally finished, wiping the look of growing worry off the other’s face. At least it hadn’t been another nightmare.

 They shared a comfortable silence for a little longer before Itachi got up. He wasn’t ready to share his meditation revelations, as little as they were. He’d been thinking about that, too, but hadn’t found anything yet. Maybe more patience would be required to win over whatever was lurking through the grass, watching him in his mind-scape.

 

He tried again every afternoon for more than a week, sometimes falling asleep in the peaceful field with its silent shadowy occupant, sometimes just relaxing. He hadn’t had luck with his silent companion yet, but he’d gotten a glimpse of dark fur multiple times. The grass didn’t hide the occasional flashes of reddish fur the way shadows hid it, but it did hide the body. It was a long process, waiting, filling his time with relaxation and letting his body heal as he discovered his mind-scape After that first week or so, he stopped merely laying on the ground and began exploring, careful not to openly disturb the creature that had become his silent shadow. Because shadow him it did, carefully out of sight, but never staying too far behind. And so the game of follow the leader commenced. Itachi would find the softest areas of grass and relax, or wander into the tree line and roams the dim shadows. It was his mind, his place of refuge. It wasn’t his memories, or past, merely who he was now. And it was a rather peaceful place, in spite of everything, and small.

Time passed slower here, it seemed. A couple hours in mediation felt like most of the day, and he emerged feeling more refreshed than he had from any nap he’d taken since recuperating. There were no nightmares here, hardly any dreams. He hadn’t seen the woman from that dream appear since then. But neither did his companion. Finally, almost three weeks into mediation circuits, Itachi broached the subject with his waking companion. “Something is there. I see glimpses, but I can’t seem to approach it, it never comes near me. It’s careful to stay hidden.”

Roma picked over his bowl of rice, watching Itachi with a practiced eye. “Whatever is there is a part of you. The animal is a mirror of yourself. It may not seem to be.. but in some way, it will be. Beings like me… our animal is not sentient to itself. It is merely an animal, with the actions and instincts of one. Only when the animal and the human become one does the human mind control the animal body. But to achieve that- you must first know what you are.” He studied Itachi for a long minute, assessing. “Talk to it. If that fails, reach out again. Maybe now that you and it have become accustomed to each other, it will approach you. You will not move on in this skill until the discovery is made.”

Itachi gave him a steady blank look. “If it is not sentient, why, how, do I talk to it?”

“Dogs and cats, normal ones, not ninja acclimated animals or summons, are often talked to even when the human speaking knows they will not understand. Treat it like an old friend, a pup you wish to earn affection from. Maybe it will respond as such, even though there is not a talking, thinking mind like you and I have. But you must discover what it is and earn its affection, at least to a minimal degree.”

A deep breath filled Itachi and he sighed, nodding silently.  He still wasn’t sure what all was going on sometimes, but he understood enough that he would potentially be able to change his body like his host could. In fact, it had become common place for Roma to shift sometime later in the evening and spend an hour or more locked in meditation. He had grown more accustomed to what the man was, but he still had some trouble in seeing himself the same way. And he'd pictured various animals- none of the ones he could think of really helped his mind to comprehend further. But Itachi knew he would not quit until he had achieved his goal. Failure just didn't seem like an option.

He closed his eyes and sunk into mediation again.

 

 

The little bundle of fur was waiting for him, shadowed in the overhang on a tree today. It was a relatively new occurrence, it was only recently as he’d become more frustrated with his lack of progress that his companion began responding in such a way. Apparently, today it was hiding up in one of the trees, a tail-tip peeking out from behind a branch and a brownish face around the other side. It was the most Itachi had been able to see at any one time, and he could distinctly make out a round, slightly wedge shaped head, covered in brown fur, the tail tip white against the bark of the tree.  It didn’t help him much, most of his knowledge seemed locked away with his memories, and while he would recognize random items or words without prompt, other things remained elusive. Including the possibilities of this little creature.

“You’re most elusive, little one.” Itachi offered a soft smile up into the tree as he walked casually past it, sitting against the trunk of one close by. The sound of small claws scraping on bark was his only answer. He waited, like he always did. Itachi had all the time in the world here, even as the reality of life was warning him it was time to move on from this safe place he’d come to like. Even Roma has been showing signs of increased need to move on.

But here, nothing mattered but his thoughts, dreams, memories, and of course, his little shadow. He knew he presented the creature his back, but here, like this, he wasn't worried. If his little companion had wanted to harm him, surely it would have done so by now. Itachi let himself relax deeper, hands loose in his lap.

An undetermined amount of time later, something soft and vaguely cold tapped his fingers. It brought him immediately to himself, but he didn't move. He didn't open his eyes- he might break whatever spell had pulled his companion down to finally visit. He knew within moments the cold damp was a nose, brushing and making little whiffing sensations over his knuckles. After it had made a quite thorough inspection of his hand, Itachi slowly lifted his thumb, daring to try and brush it over the small head nuzzling his skin. It skittered at his first soft touch, returning when he stilled. He tried several times, waiting patiently between each trial and error until the head no longer spooked away. Once he'd let the animal get used to a light touch, no matter how brief, he relaxed his hand again. Again and again the gestures continued, until finally he was able to cup his hand cautiously over that furred head and take careful notes of what he was feeling. Small, rounded ears perked and flattened in reactions to his touches, the head following was indeed a slightly rounded wedge under his fingertips. He let a fingertip trail down to the nose that had been prodding at him, feeling the nose and most of the front of the mouth pressing easily against it. He brushed back the path he'd came, stroking along the middle of the head toward the ears. The response was immediate- the body dropped away and sharp little teeth buried into his palm. Itachi gasped, eyes snapping to see what little creature dared bite him for a gesture liked by most animals.

Beady little eyes glared at him, teeth sunk into the side of his hand, and Itachi couldn't help the chuckle that came up. “You can chew on me, little one, but you won't intimidate me that way. But if you don't like it, I won't pet you like that again.”

There was a faint sensation that felt like teeth attempting to grind into bone before the sleek creature dropped away, avidly licking its jaws and then the rest of its body clean. It gave Itachi more time to study the brown shiny fur that covered most of the creatures body, the small white streak down its throat, the somewhat short, thin tail.  Sharp little claws clung to him and intermittently left to rake through fine fur, and Itachi watched the fastidious cleaning routine partaking nearly in his lap. He glanced down at his hand. The small bloody imprints were already silver; healed over and non-existent amongst the other fine scars on his hands.

He'd never healed that fast without medical attention. Then again, this was his mind-scape. He felt the pain, but the wounds weren't necessarily any more real that the grass and trees and the creature in his lap.

And then it hit him. He finally had his little inner creature, sitting in his lap, and he still couldn't remember what species it was. Why did he only remember flashes of things, and almost never when he needed it? What had happened that burned his memories away and gave him night terrors whenever he slept for extended periods of time? Why did-

A yelp broke his reverie as pinpricks of pain dug into his thigh. Two sets of claws were digging through his pants, and the look on the creature's face was... amused? Itachi didn't know what to make of that look.  The little ears were pointing forward, perked, and there was a small flash of white teeth as the nose wiggled. Then it scampered off, and Itachi watched it frolic in the grass for a few minutes before it disappeared into the trees again. With a sigh he relaxed and pulled himself out of meditation.

 

******* end chapter ****

 

Feel free to hit the review button. or not. Enjoy the updates!!!