one_long_mission | [open] a way to beat the cold

"There's jutsu that can do that." Madara gave a low hum. "Pretty sure Father'd know the specifics, but there's this Namikaze clan no one else can contend with that have somethin like that..."

And yes, yes, he did catch the poke made at his ex-dream, thank you very much...
Soon, the settlement was within sight, and it was about time. Madara may not have stopped walking and not have whined much, but he was decidedly paler than he had been at the river.

There was an uproar once they reached the edge of the settlement, and neither of the three were allowed to pass, multiple angry sharingan all set on Itachi. Madara knew he just might as well keep silent until his father came, and murmured to Itachi that he should do the same.

Once the Head of the clan arrived, the rest scattered with a wordless wave of his hand. His eyes fell upon his sons first, sharingan almost pulsating with anger, demanding to know the reason for this intruder. He knew this had to be an Uchiha. His son would never show anyone else the settlement, but many Uchiha that came from outside were traitors.

Madara did do his best to explain about the river and the brief scuffle, looking about three shades paler. He made no mention about why he was at the stream, however, but this was not anything inquired about. The boy made sure to explain about the sudden appearance of this other clanmate and bring up the similarities to a Namikaze-used jutsu before his father sent him to Ren-san, their medic, although from what Madara could see, his father was not convinced and may ask Izuna for a second version later.

This left him alone with Itachi.
The man looked quite unconcerned about the other's current health, reaching out to grab his collar and pull him so he would stare into his eyes. His tone was cold, colder than a winter night without fire. He did not know his name. He did not care. "How long have you been outside the settlement's boundaries?" to Itachi's credit, however, he could sense that the other's hands were not completely clean.

Izuna followed after his brother, having added at least a few odds and ends about managing to snatch a sword from a pathetic Senju along with samples of a new wood jutsu. Itachi watched them go, until his entire field of vision was taken up by a pair of angry sharingan.

It was not difficult for Tajima to seize him. He was weak for an Uchiha, too sick, too thin. He clearly didn't belong here, or anywhere else. But despite the sudden coughs, there was a strange sort of resolve in Itachi that was almost impossible to place.

Until his eyes shifted.
Revealing the mangekyo sharingan.

"... My... entire life..." he answered with as much strength as he could muster. He hadn't unleashed any specific jutsu yet. But he was prepared to. "I was born in a village... a shinobi village... far, far away... This is my first... time at your settlement."

He paused, steadying his already thready chakra.

"Believe me... I mean you... no harm..."

What was this?
What ever was this feeling welling within him?

Tajima was unable to place it, because he had never felt it before. Fear was something unknown to this day, and to feel it crawl under his skin and shift and jumble his mind was a state he had never been into.
Regardless, he was the leader. His law was absolute, and the clan's safety and continued existence was his duty.

Now, this man here may be weak and appear amazingly pathetic on one end, but on the other?
"What... is..." he was unable to even finish his sentence, gazing into the other's eyes. Fingers slowly released their grip on the cloth. He wanted to look away, but could not.

Itachi was at quite the advantage here, because history had yet to be written.

Itachi's first thoughts were self-preservation, but when Tajima stuttered, he finally realized the full extent of what he'd just done.

The clan history was clear. Madara was the first to awaken the mangekyo sharingan. But the Madara he just met was still a child. That hadn't happened yet - which meant no one had seen eyes like his. Ever.

He nearly collapsed when Tajima let go of his collar, but managed to stay on his feet.

"May I please... stay here... until I can find my way?"

Itachi was easily granted the right to stay within the settlement. He even had a small house all to himself. It had once belonged to someone, but the one that had lived within had never been back, war taking lives without care.

Orders were quickly given that no one approach him, and should they be approached themselves, to give him whatever he asked for... not that Itachi knew.

A few hours later, most likely after regaining his wits, Tajima came in without even knocking, sharingan still ablaze, demanding to know how he had gotten those eyes.

Those demands fell on a man who'd apparently taken to a pallet on the ground as soon as he had a roof over his head. His breathing was harsh, ragged. There was blood splattered on his lips. He was not well, not well in the slightest.

He heard the words. They played back and forth in his mind.

The answer - of course - was that he killed his closest friend and suffered tremendous loss. But that wasn't something he wished to share. This was a time when power was everything. Revealing that kind of information could lead to much bloodshed, much tragedy.

"... L..later..." he muttered weakly. "Maybe... later..."

"Later?" the man was not used to have his demands answered in such a way. What he wished for, anything he did, he obtained as quickly as possible.

"Do you truly wish to be of no use to me, fool?" the sharingan burned brighter than any bonfire. "Think that answer over and quickly. What I deem as useless, I toss aside." he glared down at the other, not caring if he had a foot in that blood puddle.

Tajima Uchiha was an unforgiving, cold man.
As cold as death itself.
"I will ask again. Where have you gotten those eyes?"

Itachi's limbs shook as he pushed himself up. Again, he reminded himself, this was a world where power was everything. If he was going to answer the head of the clan, he would at least need to face him. And if he didn't dare say it, he'd better show it.

The eyes shifted again, the pinwheel pattern spreading from the three familiar tomoe. He looked Tajima in the eyes, and focused his chakra.

He had very little to spare.

What followed was a quick series of red-on-black illusions that put the head of the clan in Shisui's body, tearing out his own eye before being hurled to his death to drown in the murky water below. There were crows. There were tears. There was a little boy frightened of a strange sharingan.

And then there was nothing.

Fear. What he had known briefly was there again, albeit stronger. Too strong. He wanted to scream. He wanted to run. For the first time in his life he wanted to call out for help, but it was not his body. It would not obey.

He could feel the pain as if it were his, he could hear the deafening caw of crows until gurgling water filled his ears.
...and then... then...

Then his own scream was deafening, distorted to his own ears, terror gripping him its claws and not letting him go. He could feel wet trails on his cheeks... those trails he had seen so often on other's faces.
He was crying.
The images were there. The feelings were there. Nothing had left him. Eyes wide, the sharingan faded to black. Suddenly, he looked amazingly nonthreatening.

Bile soon joined the blood Itachi had here and there on the floor. Itachi may be quite glad he had only showed those last minutes, unlike that time he had sent Kakashi into an illusion.
The uneven chakra was quick to alert the settlement's medic. Madara followed at his heels, the two almost breaking down the door. While Ren took care of lifting the thankfully passed out Tajima, Madara stood there with a mix of sadness, confusion and rage swimming in his dark eyes, hands clenched into fists as some blood started seeping through the bandages upon his arm.

The medic, of course, would come back with a few supplies to try and take care of Itachi at least enough so that he would not die... First was the Head's safety, and then making certain this other Uchiha was kept alive just in case something needed to be reverted, since they were unclear on what happened.

"..is that.. some part of your plan for peace?" the boy inquired tonelessly.

"No." Itachi replied, slumping to the ground with just as much exhaustion. "He... asked questions... Demanded answers he couldn't possibly... understand, unless... Unless I showed him..."

A powerful genjutsu, that's what it was... Ren heard the explanation at least, but could barely believe it. Tajima was the most powerful Uchiha alive. His eyes were the strongest by far, and yet, this was a genjutsu he had been unable to break!

"Your father... will be all right... in a matter of hours. A day at most." Itachi did his best to make certain there would be no lasting damage, merely a lasting impression that his mysterious eyes were not something to be sought after so hastily. "I'm sorry... I had little choice."

"...showing him? But that..." Madara just gave up and shook his head. As little sense as it made, it was what had happened. "Ren-san!" he pleaded before the man left. He did not need to say anything, however. The clan medic would never let his father's fall's real reason be widely known. "A day, at most.... Right." he gave a slow nod.

"Once Ren-san gets back from settling father at home, I'm out of here. No one else can take care of any matter that'd pop up concerning the clan in that time." and besides, it was why his father kept him at his side a lot.
This might just strangely be a great opportunity if used the right way.

It would make sense, after all, that a shinobi so weak in body would have to compensate in mind. His genjutsu probably was incredibly strong.

"I'm sorry... I'd intended to just rest..." he confessed. "But he wanted answers, and couldn't... wait for them."

"That's just like Father.." Madara murmured, shaking his head. "Nothin you could have done. He was probably gonna off you if you weren't gonna be of any use to him." he gave a sigh, then bit his lip. "You said he'd be okay, right?" he asked in a tiny voice.

The effects of the tsukuyomi would work themselves out. The illusion wasn't designed to be simply torture, so lasting neurological damage wasn't an issue.

"He will..." Itachi nodded to the boy. "Though, how he plans on... reacting to my answers... I am not certain."

He either just signed his own epitaph, or perhaps worse.

"How's your arm?" he asked, listening to footsteps in the brush outside. The medic had returned.

"Now that he's got what he wants from you, he..." just might have no further use. It was not as if he could fight. "..arm's fine." he murmured.

The medic had another with him, a young adult with his hair in a quite wild ponytail. It looked particularly unruly. The two debated a short moment, with Ren doing most of the work scanning what ailed Itachi and reporting it to the younger, before the other also ran his chakra to look into their patient.

Madara frowned in disgust at the young adult, then gave the other's father a glare. "Are you really gonna use him as a guinea pig?"
"Ah, the young heir is displeased? This is a prime opportunity fir my son to improve his skills upon. I assure you he is every bit as good as I am."
"More like you just don't care about trying to treat this guy."
"Must I remind you he is a filthy traitor? I have no obligations to him." Ren stated coldly.

"I should be able to take it from here, father. Thank you for the initial report. Madara-san, would you-"
"Yeah, I know. You need quiet and all. Tch. Fine. I'll be back tomorrow."

Once the two were gone, the young adult gave a light sigh in relief and readjusted his glasses. "I may have said that, but perhaps some of these afflictions are beyond my level." he said most likely aloud to himself. "But where are my manners? I am Renji." he had a strange, both professional and friendly air about him, an oddity in this time for certain. "I may require your assistance to treat a few ailments that may afflict you. After all, you know your own body more than I."

Ironic, perhaps, that even a century or more before the massacre and he was still a filthy traitor. He almost laughed about it, but thought better of it a moment later.

Both Madara and the elder medic had gone, leaving only the younger one there. He may have been fairly competent for the time period, and with quite a pleasant bedside manner, but Itachi knew there wasn't much the man would be able to do in the long run. He'd have to find his way back home if he had any real hope of long-term survival. (And Sasuke... God, what was happening to Sasuke?)

"I'm afraid... I don't exactly know how I arrived here... It just... happened." He replied through labored breaths. "So I have no medicine on me. But I'll tell you... what I can..."

He explained, the best he could, what medics in his village had said about his condition, the damage that his body took from simply being alive, the visible symptoms that would likely manifest themselves within the week, and how they were often dealt with. Some of the methods may or may not have even been discovered yet, Itachi wasn't sure.

"At the very least... you may be able to... ease some of the pain..."

"Well then, I... must say I am quite unaware of the existence of many of these ingredients. I have, however, an idea of just what may be able to replace what I am missing..."

Renji gave a deep bow. "It appears I will have to leave your side already if I have hope to minimize the symptoms as they come. I will be back as soon as I am able to, ah-- your name?"
"Yes. Itachi-san. Thank you."

What he came back with the next morning were various pills and injections, along with some herbal remedies. He made certain to explain just what ingredient he had replaced with which, as well as the scale of intended and foreseeable effects, primary and secondary. "And I also have the herbs.. which you are meant to chew should you feel your airducts being too tight. They have relaxing properties, and the internal tissue can take on more pressure and stretch without hurting.."

Itachi was wary of Renji, as he was any medic. He waved off the injections in favor of something less potent, or perhaps, less permanent. There was a very fine line between medicine and poison, especially in his case. Given that Ren already condemned him a traitor, there was no telling exactly what they were willing to test on him.

Unfortunately, beggars couldn't exactly be choosers either.

"Has the clan head... recovered from yesterday?" He made small talk as he examined one of the handmade pills. They were all herbal at their base. He could recognize a few of the scents better than he could the sight of them. The herb he was supposed to chew was licorice root. "Has he... mentioned anything about... what happened?"

Itachi took a cautious breath and swallowed one of them with a few sips of water.

"Or Madara..."

The other gave a light sigh when his sudden new patient refused the injections. He did not force them onto him, however, and simply left them aside.

"Father was responsible for following up on the aftereffects. He has mentionned nothing of note." he bit his lip, pushing his glasses back atop his nose. "I apologize. I am also unaware of the status of his eldest son. I have not seen him since he has left here yesterday."

One might think Renji was either trying to act nice to win Itachi's favor, but what would he even have to gain from it? On the other hand, Madara had clearly shot him a disgusted look the day before for a reason unknown.
"I brought a few fruit, if you would like some? There is also most likely everything we need to make tea here, if it would be more to your enjoyment."

"Ah... Fruit and tea... That is very kind of..."

At the thought of food, Itachi's stomach turned. It looked like those pills were just like what many of the others various apothecaries had pieced together - impossible to keep down.

(It made sense. Most of the remedies Itachi used were toxic in some form. The body has mechanisms in place to rid itself of toxins, even when it shouldn't.)

He stumbled past Renji, falling through the door flap before vomiting outside.

"O-oh my..." Renji was apalled and terrified. "This is not good... simply not." he hastily went to fetch a wet cloth and wipe Itachi's mouth, slightly panicked since now that this medication was out, it seemed he had no option but that licorice root. "It seems your body simply rejects it."

He helped him back into bed, only able to aid with water and tea from this point on, and looking more and more worried as he tried to think of other options. "...the ingredients could be taken... separately with food, perhaps." he pushed his glasses back up his nose. "..or perhaps dilluted in tea? How terrible, this sounds as if disguising a medecine for a child..."

Itachi probably should have been more worried than he was, but he was used to things like that happening.

"What kind of remedies... Strong remedies... do you have for nausea?" He offered. "Perhaps something like that first... Might take the edge off."

It was one of the things that Sakumo had done that other medics had not. He found something strong enough to counter the worst of the side effects, or at least Itachi's usually violent reaction to them.

"I'm sorry... I know I must be... quite a burden in a place like this." He added, glancing back at the anxious medic. "I'm lucky to have... shelter and a little food, much less your attention and care. I din't know... how I will repay any of it..."

"Nausea.. hm.. the best we can get here are ginger roots." he gives a light sigh. "You may not be aware, but our lands are hardly fertile, and some of our supplies depend heavily on merchant caravans." he gave a sudden, dry cough. "... we make do."

He had brought some other supplies with him and bit into his lip, fishing around his bag. "I believe I have some here.. Don't worry about repayment really. The most you can do is stay alive..."

Suddenly, the door was thrown off one of its hinges and a little black blur raced in.
Fresh tears were spilled upon the boy's face, features contorted in indescribable rage. No one was able to comprehend was he said as he charged towards the bed.

Thankfully, Renji caught the boy before he got there, but earned a kick to the gut for it. He remain curled up on the ground after a vicious kick to the head, then Madara was climbing the bed and swinging a swift kick at Itachi's ribs. "Why did you DO that!?" he cried out. "What did you do to my father!?"

Needless to say, but that was the last thing Itachi expected! Thanks to Renji's interference, Itachi was able to dodge the kick at the expense of tumbling onto the floor.

"Ma..madara, What... What happened?" Itachi choked as he tried to avoid the strikes that kept coming. "He should have woken up by now... My genjutsu... not designed to do any real damage... I just... showed him... what he wanted to know, that's all!"

"Sure he's awake!" he yelled, completely maddened with rage. "And it's all your fault! I went to check on him and hear my mom screaming. I ran thinking something bad happened to him but--" and then, then, just the memory summoned the most pained expression on his face.

...along with a pattern unlike the usual sharingan.
"He killed her!" it happened such a short time ago too that it summoned fresh tears once more, and the boy tackled Itachi to the ground, wrapping small hands around the other's throat. "It's your fault!"
Thankfully, Renji was nearby and once again great help, tearing the boy off his patient... but then...
"Let go."
What Madara demands, Madara gets even more now, and Renji dropped him finally aware of those new, terrifying eyes.

"Gimee one reason not to kill you!" the boy nearly spat at Itachi.

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