Dance Of The Leaves: Chapter 1

I Hereby declare that I claim no rights to NARUTO © 1999 by Kishimoto Masashi/SHUEISHA Inc. and recieve no monetary benefit for any narrative I publish hereafter based on this manga or any of its other media adaptations.

Warnings are in place for slash (male on male coupling), graphic sexual content, manga spoilers, discrimination and violence.

-Xtase

Hello. My apologies if this chapter seems overly long. It is meant to be an introduction; and I have no intention of making future chapters anywhere near this long. So please bear with me, and forgive me for this as well as the next instalment; they will get shorter by chapter three.

Dance Of The Leaves

Buun buunn, a bumblebee burrs. Its fuzzy body is sticky and brimming with nectar as it zips back to the hive. A boy pauses as it darts across his path. He is coming back from a special errand; a trip to the market. In his right hand is a plastic bag full of cherry tomatoes; for his three year old brother's dessert.

The boy stoops in the shade of the ancient Keyaki tree. Its low branches umbrella over his head: a shield from the bright summer sun.The rays that manage to pierce through its foliage make a dapple pattern on his silky mop of dark hair. His fair skin stains green in the shade and his eyes resemble the deceptively still waters of a swamp. They are contemplative, as he is taking a moment to think of his little brother, who doesn't seem to be very fond of sweets.

Summer has arrived, when you suck the nectar of suikazura flowers simply to feel that syrupy sweetness coat your tongue and make your fingers sticky. You pluck satonishiki from trees and eat until your lips and tongue stain crimson. Carefully you tuck the precious cherry pits inside your back pocket so that later on you and your friends can hold contests to see who can spit them the farthest. Spending every ryo that comes your way on ame at the churlishly named Umai stall, where the kindly old lady hands them to you in a brown paper bag. You inwardly rejoice as carry them off, casually slipping one past your lips and slowly sliding the candy around on your mouth. Then you slide that lovely smooth roundness against your cheek with your tongue and it makes a charming bump appear on the side of your face.

Sometimes you visit the Dangoya and sit on one of the simple benches inside the shop, observing the menus hanging from the walls while you wait for your anmitsu to arrive before slurping it down. And sometimes a cheeky albeit very pretty brown eyed girl is in the shop too. She winks at you saucily when she catches you looking. After you go home for lunch you sit on the verandah of your house with your family. And your mother serves up chunks of honeydew melon for dessert. You watch the fruit glisten for a moment before sinking your teeth into its thick, sweet, juicy flesh and think that life is peachy. He has done all these things today, the first day of summer. The day his brother tries melon for the first time; but does not like it.

After swallowing the bite with some difficulty, he pushes his slice away.

"Don't like sweet stuff" he complains. A small smile of bemusement touches their father's lips. A child who doesn't like sweet things? Is that possible?

"Are you sure sweetie?" his mum asks. The child bobs his head up and down firmly.

"Don't like sweet stuff" he repeats. Their father chuckles lowly. He is perhaps the only child in the entire village who dislikes sweets, the man thinks to himself. He leans toward his youngest son "Well what would you like?" he will indulge the boy, just this once. It couldn't hurt.

The toddler eagerly proclaims " Tousan! I like tomatoes!" and his parents exchange a look; "I should have known" it clearly means. He does indeed like tomatoes, a little too much in his mother's opinion.

"But we just ran out of tomatoes" their mother says. The toddler's face falls iin his dismay, something his ani does not miss. At this point he piped up"I could go out and get some for him". As the rest of the family turns to him, he is already getting up "It's no trouble" he continues. His little bother perks up immediately, "Really, niisan?" he asks hopefully.

Their father smiles at his older boy "All right, off you go. But come straight home afterward, no dawdling." his son nods and replies "Yes, chichi-ue" in a flash he slips into the house and is on his way to the front door.

"Wait, you need money" his mother calls as she swiftly moves to the front door as well. "I have some, don't worry about it, kaasan!" he replies, he is already twenty yards away from the house. He raises a hand in a wave as he jogs away. She sighs and leans against the door frame. How on earth does he manage to fasten his sandals and run that far so quickly? She shuts the door and retreats into her home. Making her way to the verandah, she finds her husband seated on the surface of their garden pond, their son perched on his lap, watching the koi swim in the depths with wide eyes.

"Your clothes will get wet, darling." she says disapprovingly.

"It's a small price to pay. Just look at him." he indicates the giggling child in his arms. He is happily splashing water with his pudgy little hands, sweet laughter bubbling out of his lips. His mother smiles at the pleasant sight. She stretches her slender arms above her head and arches her back before sitting back down.

"Ah, and when his brother comes home he'll be even happier" she acquieses. "But you agreed to let him go out too easily. He didn't even finish his dessert" she looks pointedly at her husband. He does not look up and takes a moment before stating "You may want to take a look at his plate". She glances to her left. It is empty except for a yellow rind and the little black seed pips.

She huffs "That doesn't prove anything. You could have eaten it". Her husband chuckles once more, the creases under his eyes dip, very attractively she admits despite herself. But she will not convey her admiration in any way, she will not give him the satisfaction.

"You have such little belief in our son, kaasan" he states in a mock-grave tone. Her head snaps up and she shoots him a glare. And he merely smiles at her, a gentle curvng of his full lips. He sits calmly, regally with his heir clasped gently in his arms, and just gazes at her. And in this moment, her breath catches in her throat, the beginnings of an intense blush introducing itself to her cheeks. After all these years, even at the most inopportune times, how can she still be so affected by his charm? The quality and intensity of emotion that smile brings on seems not to diminish in the slightest, despite the passage of time. In fact its power over her has increased, given the fact that her husband is very serious most of the time and only occasionally has the opportunity to completely unwind.

She angles her head away and lets her dark curtain of hair swing in place to hide her blushes. She tries to gather her wits, but a deep, heart-palpitating chuckle reverberates through her ears, making her spine tingle in pleasure.

"Look at me, kaasan" his deep voice floats to her on the light breeze. Feeling a bit light headed she braces her arms, palms flat against the cool wood decking. Unable to stop herself, she looks his way, and the sight she beholds both thrills and mortifies her. He is staring at her, eyes smoldering, right eyebrow cocked, his lips curling in a very provocative smirk.

Her entire face flashes crimson as she chastises him "Not in front of the baby!"At his wife's affronted expression his amusement intensifies. "Kaasan, he's not a baby. And besides... you're so beautiful when you're angry..." he teases her. His eyes are smoky with warmth. He has never been so inviting as he is to her now. It is almost intoxicating, this sensation he inspires within her. Before this progresses any further, she neatly turns away and begins to stack the dishes. Her lovely face quirks in a defiant frown as she gets up and stalks into the house, glaring at her husband over her shoulder.

"I meant it as a compliment, really." he calls.

"Shut up!" she snaps in irritation, retreating into the coolness of the house.

Depositing the dishes into a sinkful of cold water, she sighs once more and dips her hands into its depths. Damn that man, even her ears are burning. "If either of the boys ever leatn to smirk like that, the village girls are done for..." she murmurs aloud while gazing out of the window.

Back in the garden her husband tries to restrain his mirth until his shoulders quake with the effort. Focussing on the child in his lap, he attempts to get a hold of himself, lest he forgets to control his chakra and the two of them end up in the pond. Kaasan would probably laugh her ass off, after killing him for submerging her baby in pondwater of course. The mental image this thought conjures up in his mind's eye makes him snort in laughter. The littlest family member finally becomes aware of this by the ripples his father makes on the pond's surface. His little face peers up at his father, and his chubby cheeks flush with pleasure at the pleasant sight he witnesses. The little one is happy, and it is too much for his father to bear. He finally lets out a loud bellowing laugh, and his son follows suit with his own cooing giggles. The toddler doesn't exactly know what tousan is so happy about, but it pleases him all the same. And he thinks, tousan looks better like this, he looks like niisan when he smiles. "Tousan is happy!" he chirrups, and his father's grin widens.

I'm glad I was able to marry your mother. I'm glad that you and your brother were born. I'm glad the four of us are together. Those are his thoughts in that happy moment of clarity.

Meanwhile another little boy standing beneath the oldest tree in his village steps out of the shade into the sunlight.

Then the breeze comes daintily. It whispers softly through his hair, gently flipping a few strands across smooth dewy cheeks. The summer zephyr playfully puffs through his clothes. The shirt billows out from his back, trickling through the lacework of body mesh beneath.

Some breathy sound escapes him as he lifts his arms and laces his fingers behind his head. A small white shopping bag dangles from his hand. It gently sways as he arches his spine in a stretch. The eager wind gusts through the round armholes of his sleeveless shirt. It toys with the raised collar, and the material yields, jauntily flapping against the boy's throat.

He sighs once more, the wind calms in response: he is rewarded by cool breath trilling across the beating pulse in his neck. Unseen fingers feather through jet hair and tickle his scalp. Fwuu...fwuu, it murmurs to him. Tenderly it kisses his temples and soothes his brow.

As he walks down a beaten dirt path flanked by trees on both sides, the west wind sweeps through their lush foliage. And the brilliant green leaves come to life. They make a rioutous chuckle as they dance. Cheerily they turn and dip and chatter to each other. Some glitter like emeralds, some like chips of green bottle, some like little lime drops. A few break free of their branches to cheerfully twirl in gusty air thrumming with the exuberant chirrup of birds. Their rhapsodious twitters reverberate in his ears.

The boy takes a short cut through a meadow of soft springy grass and tall stalks of himawari. Smiling coal eyes turn up as he faces the sky and watch clumps of pure white floss traverse its arch. The luminous yellow face floating in the heavens observes this little face on the earth. The boy again voices his pleasure, this time a laugh. The corners of the eyes crinkle, the soft creases underneath them dip. The black pools glitter and the pink lips form a smile. Looking at the nodding yellow faces of the himawari flowers he decides to pick one for his mother. Many of the flower stalks tower over his head, so he picks one of the smallest he can find. It comes to just above his shoulder. He gets a good grip on the stem and carefully uproots it with neat, sharp tugs so as not to bend the stem. Presently he has the plant in his hands, ready for his inspection. He curls his fingers around the dark green stalk, feeling its satisfying weight and angling the radiant yellow flower toward his face. A tiny frown dimples his forehead as he closely inspects it for any damage. After some intense scrutiny, he deems the harm to be minimal, the flower is fit to take home. Pleased with his new acquisition, the boy trips across the meadow towards a small copse of trees at its edge, beyond which is a main road which will lead him staight to his neighbourhood. A few minutes later he comes upon the road, clutching his yellow-headed prize in his left hand and the shopping bag in his right.

The zephyr chooses this moment to return, boldly swooping into his shirt, lifting it above his breast bone. The finely woven chain-mail underneath winks in the bronze sunlight. The nipples rise as the mesh chafes against them. As the wind playfully nips them. Cool breath tunnels through the leg holes of his shorts, mingling with the heat of his thighs. He utters a faint gasp of surprise and pulls his grey shirt down.

Deciding he has done enough dawdling, Uchiha Itachi begins to jog the rest of the way home. Presently he catches sight of a familiar high white wall. Through the gate of the Uchiha District he goes, waving to Teyaki and his wife Uruchi as he passes the ever-busy Uchiha Senbei shop. Several Uchiha take notice of him on his way. The ladies smile, the men nod in approval, and the children simply regard him with admiration. Except for an older boy with a messy head of hair sitting on a rooftop, who playfully pelts him with overripe apples. Itachi dodges them all with ease and he cheerfully gives the boy his most beaming smile. "I'll get you yet, shrimp!" Itachi hears him call. He would not mind stopping but he must continue on his way. He tramps past countless paper lanterned doorways and paper fan emblazoned walls until he catches sight of his home. As he reaches the house he feels a crisp sliver of wind whisper in his ear and ghost through his hair. Switching the sunflower to his right hand along with the shopping bag, he opens the door as the gusts cease.

"I'm home!" Itachi calls as he enters the cool darkness of the foyer. Sitting on the wooden ledge he sets down his load and goes for the clasp on his right sandal. However, the telltale pitter-patter of a certain someone's little feet makes him pause, bracing himself for the inevitable impact.

"Niiiisaan! You're back!" Sasuke cries as he launches himself full speed at his brother. Itachi makes no response except for stiffening his back to prevent them both from bowling over onto the hard stone floor at his feet. As small arms wrap themselves around his middle, he nonchalantly resumes unsnapping his sandal, seemingly paying no heed to his brother. Sasuke presses himself against his brother's back, squeezing him tight.

"I missed you, Niisan" the boy eagerly presses a pillow-soft cheek against his ani's, burying his face in his shoulder. No response.

"Niisan!" Sasuke says, his annoyance evident in his tone. His brother is behaving very oddly, not greeting him or smiling, not even looking at him. He lets go of his brother and steps back, observing him warily. He still does not turn around, appearing to be busy with his left sandal. Is he upset? Is Sasuke the reason he's upset? Does he not like Sasuke anymore? Is he deciding that he doesn't want to be Sasuke's brother any longer? Has he found a new brother? He has been gone a for a while, it could be possible. These thoughts begin to make Sasuke's head swim with worry. The fact that his aniki still has his back to him only makes the little boy more nervous. Sasuke swallows as he watches his niisan adjust his shin wrappings.

"Niisan...?" he says uncertainly.

Itachi slowly turns his head. His expression is serious as he gravely locks eyes with his baby brother. Like a deer caught in the headlights, Sasuke cannot look away. Itachi slowly raises his right hand, unfolding his index and middle finger, aiming at that special spot above his unsuspecting brother's eyes. By the time Sasuke realises what is going to happen it is already too late. His aniki's fingers rap firmly agaist his forehead. The spot he hits, made tender and sensetive by numerous previous assaults promptly begins to smart.

"Ow.." Sasuke raises his little hands to his forehead, eyes shut.

Itachi withdraws his fingers, but he does not seem to be done yet. He raises both his hands and quite unceremoniously plants them on his brother's head. Poor Sasuke cannot so much as utter a squeak of surprise before his brother mercilessly begins to ruffle his already unruly hair. He stumbles and falls backward, and Itachi, who will not let go if his head, tumbles over with him. Taking advantage of their position, Itachi quickly straddles his brother. Removing his fingers from Sasuke's hair, he plunges them into the boy's armpits and begins to tickle him.

The foyer swiftly fills with scuffling noises and Sasuke's breathless sqeals of laughter. Itachi begins to chuckle himself as his baby brother squirms and struggles to escape his grasp. He loves to tease him, he cannot help himself. The kid is simply too adorable not to tease. It's all Sasuke's fault for being so cute. And just as suddenly as he starts, Itachi backs off. Kneeling on his haunches, the boy observes his winded baby brother laying spread eagle on the floor. The poor thing is completely pink in the face, an angry red mark glaring out from the precise centre of his forehead. His shirt bunches untidily about his shoulders; and his hair! It looks as if the lad has been through a wind tunnel, standing up in every direction. His mouth hangs open as he catches his breath after the struggle. Itachi looms over him, his silken bangs hanging off his face, smiling serenely.

Sasuke immediately sends him a glare that no three year old should be capable of.

"That was mean, niisan!" he frowns splendidly, puffing out his cheeks.

The sight is too much for Itachi, he cannot bear it any longer; he bursts out laughing, right in his brother's face. Sasuke's comical expression, coupled with his spectacular state of dishevelment, is simply too hilarious for words. The little boy laying on the floor feels his cheeks flame, whether from anger or humiliation he does not know. Most probably both. Meanwhile Itachi continues to voice his glee, losing his balance and landing on his rear. This is in itself a feat, for it isn't often that he loses his balance unwillingly.

"Ow." he rubs his rump and laughs even harder "Look what you made me do, Sasuke"

A look of outrage flits across Sasuke's face.

"How is it my fault, you started it!" he accuses rather loudly.

"Cheer up lil' brother, I thought you missed me." Itachi manages to get out between fits of giggles. However, his laughter ceases when he recognises that his otouto is about to throw a tantrum. He must defuse the situation, and quickly.

"Sorry about that, Sasuke" he says pleasantly, lifting the bagful of tomatoes "want some?" the only fool proof way to pacify Sasuke...

And it works like a charm. The little boy pauses for a moment, looking at the proferred peace offering. Then he perks up and scrambles off his back to a kneeling position, palms flat on the floor between his knees. He eagerly eyes the bag with sparkling dark eyes. He can make out familiar red shapes through the plastic.

"Tomatoes?" he inquires. His wide eyes begin to glaze over and his plump pink lips part. He resembles a hungry little kitten who catches sight of a dishful of cream.

"Yeah" Itachi casts a loving gaze at his precious baby brother. He is so cute...

"Itachi, let's get those washed before Sasuke makes a mess"

Itachi turns around to see his mother standing in the hallway, wiping her hands on her apron. She has been observing the duo's antics from the kitchen doorway. The scene was in many ways similar to her exchange with her husband earlier that afternoon. Too similar she thinks, giving her firstborn a significant look. He's the same, he's just like his father. An utter tease. She glances at Sasuke, who wears a delicate blush on his rotund cheeks. And he is like me, so quick to forgive him, she thinks. With a shake of her head, their mother heads back to the kitchen, beckoning her children. Itachi follows in her wake, with Sasuke not far behind.

During the next half hour Sasuke wolfs down almost all the tomatoes, after his mother washes them and slices them into quarters. His elder brother and father look on in amusement as they sit at the low table with him. And when Itachi decides to go train, Sasuke begs their parents with wide eyes to let him accompany his ani. Surprisingly, Fugaku agrees and the boy happily clutches his brother's hand as he drags him over to the front door. Fugaku stands at the doorway, crossing his arms as he watches them leave. Sasuke bobs up and down, his right hand holding Itachi's and his left clutching his aniki's weapons pouch. They soon become little dots in the distance, and disappear. And Fugaku slips inside the house, a secret smile on his face.

Mikoto is putting the last load of laundry in the dryer when she feels a strong arms encircle her waist. A smug smile flits across her lips.

"Is this why you let Sasuke go with Itachi for once?"

"Mikoto" a simple husky whisper against her ear.

She has been waiting for this, wanting it all afternoon; she cannot deny herself. She has been yearning to her him call hear by name, the way he only does when they are alone together like this. And when they are like this, for a time, she is no longer the mother of their children.

"Mikoto" he repeats fervently, tilting her head back. Yes, now she is only Mikoto, his wife. His lover. She cannot deny him now, when he feels like this. When he makes her feel like this. And so she allows him to seal their lips together in a kiss, sighing in pleasure. And her sighs turn to moans as her apron, then her dress slowly depart from her heated flesh.

A/N:

This is it for chapter one. If you have read this far, thank you for bearing with me. I have not really composed any stories for nearly four years, and I fear it's caught up with me: my writing skills have become very rusty. This took me hours to write. Though I suppose the fact that my word processor closed and I forgot to fucking save and had to rewrite half the story as a result may have contributed to this delay.

But I digress, this chapter was mostly an attempt to recover some of my skills. I need to do some serious character development and flesh out the personas and ambience of this fic. Almost all the characters mentioned here appear in the manga. Can you guess who the girl at the Dangoya and the boy on the rooftop are? You probably can, I made it pretty obvious.

Not much has happened in this chapter (apart from Fugaku getting some, JaJaJa!). However you can expect to see a lot of things in subsequent chapters. It may seem nice and pleasant now but it won't be all rosy for long. Of course there will be plenty of feel-good moments, but as Itachi grows up, there will also be a good dose of angst, resentment and gore. I am trying to make this as realistic as possible, and so I must include elements of both good and bad in the plot.

I've tried to minimise spelling mistakes, and if I have overlooked any I sincerely apologise and promise to do better. Below are translation notes in case some of you are confused by some of the terms mentioned in this chapter, listed in order of appearance.

Keyaki is an ornamental tree which is also famously used in bonsai. They can grow up to 30 metres tall and live to be thousands of years old.

Suikazura is the Japanese honeysuckle. The flowers give off a sweet, vanilla-like scent and sprout white, fading to yellow.

Satonishiki are cherries.

Ame is hard candy.

Umai means delicious, or yummy.

Dango are small, sweet, sticky little cakes made from glutinous rice. They are shaped into spheres and often skewered on wooden sticks.

Anmitsu are small gelatinous agar cubes served chilled with fruit.

Himawari is the Japanese name for sunflowers.

Once again, I give my sincerest thanks to everyone reading this fic. Please review below with your suggestions to improve my writing or any ideas you may want to contribute to this fic's plot.

Peace,

Xtase