Despite being cast out of the Uchiha cn, Mikoto never felt destitute. Harry had ensured that wouldn’t happen. Before she left the Fire Capital, he had gifted her a small bag filled with gold, jewels, and precious stones—an amount so rge that it could have sustained her for ten lifetimes.

  “I’ll make sure you never have to struggle,” he had said, pressing the bag into her hands before she left.

  She had protested at first, but he had simply smiled, that mischievous yet confident look in his eyes. “You deserve comfort. Take it.”

  Now, those treasures had become her safety net, providing her with the resources she needed to care for Itachi without relying on anyone—least of all the Uchiha cn that had turned their backs on her.

  Kushina had helped her find a modest but cozy house on the outskirts of the vilge, far from the Uchiha compound but close enough to the vilge center for convenience. Mikoto decorated it with simple elegance, creating a warm and welcoming home for her and her son.

  Though she missed her old life at times—the prestige, the sense of belonging—Mikoto found soce in the quiet moments she shared with Itachi. She had carved out a new life for herself, one built not on tradition and duty but on love and freedom.

  Despite her exile, the Uchiha cn never truly let go of Mikoto. News of Itachi’s birth and his striking emerald green eyes reached them quickly, and whispers began to circute within the compound.

  The boy carried the Uchiha’s signature bck hair, yet his eyes betrayed his foreign heritage—something the elders saw as both a threat and a curiosity. They wondered if the child possessed abilities beyond their understanding, abilities inherited from his mysterious father.

  Takashi Uchiha, Mikoto’s father, received reports about his grandson, but he remained silent, neither acknowledging nor condemning the boy. Privately, he ordered that Mikoto and Itachi be monitored, ensuring the cn would be ready to act if the child’s abilities proved dangerous—or valuable.

  Mikoto knew the Uchiha were watching her, but she refused to let it intimidate her. She focused on raising Itachi, pouring all her love and energy into ensuring he grew up happy, healthy, and strong.

  “Itachi,” she whispered one night as she rocked him to sleep, “you don’t need the Uchiha name to be great. You’re already perfect, and I’ll make sure you have everything you need to create your own path.”

  Kushina, true to her word, remained by Mikoto’s side, treating Itachi like her own nephew. She taught Mikoto how to handle a baby, teased her endlessly about her overprotectiveness, and occasionally babysat so Mikoto could rest.

  “You know,” Kushina said one day as she held Itachi in her arms, “he’s going to be a heartbreaker when he grows up. Just look at those eyes! He’s going to have girls chasing him everywhere.”

  Mikoto ughed, brushing Itachi’s soft bck hair. “As long as he doesn’t break hearts like his father.”

  Kushina smirked. “Speaking of his father, we’re still looking for him. Don’t think I’ve given up on that.”

  Mikoto’s smile faltered slightly. “I know. I just… I hope he’s safe, wherever he is.”

  “And when we find him, he’s going to have some expining to do,” Kushina said with a mischievous grin. “Leaving you with all this? He better come back with answers—and maybe a ring.”

  Mikoto blushed but didn’t argue. Deep down, she still hoped Harry would return, not just for her, but for their son.

  As the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months, Mikoto found a sense of peace she hadn’t expected. Itachi grew stronger every day, and despite the challenges she faced, she felt more determined than ever to build a happy life for him.

  But in the back of her mind, there was always a lingering question—a hope—that one day, Harry would come back.

  And far away, across oceans and continents, Harry Pottaru stood atop a cliff, his emerald Rinnegan eyes scanning the horizon. He could feel it—a pull, a connection that had grown stronger with each passing day.

  He didn’t know what awaited him, but he knew one thing for certain—he had unfinished business in the Land of Fire.

  Mikoto’s life took a turn for the better after the birth of Itachi. Her days were filled with ughter, joy, and the endless surprises that came with raising her exceptionally gifted son. From the moment he opened his eyes, Mikoto had sensed there was something special about him, but as the months passed, that feeling only grew stronger.

  Itachi wasn’t just adorable—he was brilliant. He began speaking his first words before he even turned one, astonishing Mikoto and Kushina alike. While most babies were still learning to crawl, Itachi was already taking his first steps. By the time he turned two, he was holding conversations that some five-year-olds would have struggled to keep up with.

  Kushina was often left in awe whenever she visited. “Are you sure he’s not secretly an old man in disguise?” she joked one day as Itachi sat beside them, quietly solving a puzzle meant for much older children. “I swear he’s already smarter than most of the shinobi in this vilge!”

  Mikoto ughed, brushing her fingers through Itachi’s wild bck hair. “He’s his father’s son, after all,” she said softly, though the thought of Harry still brought a bittersweet ache to her heart.

  Despite the occasional sadness when she thought of Harry, Mikoto felt happier than she had in years. Itachi gave her purpose, filling the void left behind by her exile from the Uchiha cn. She was proud of him—not just for his intelligence but for his kindness, curiosity, and the way he always smiled at her as though she was his entire world.

  Surprisingly, the Uchiha cn gradually stopped interfering in Mikoto’s life after Itachi’s birth. At first, they kept their distance out of disdain for her defiance, but over time, their curiosity about the child faded.

  The reason for their indifference was simple: Itachi’s emerald green eyes.

  Among the Uchiha, eye color was deeply tied to their bloodline abilities. Every recorded Sharingan user had either bck or dark brown eyes, occasionally gray-brown. The fact that Itachi had vibrant green eyes set him apart, marking him, in the Uchiha’s eyes, as an outsider.

  The elders concluded that Itachi had no Uchiha blood in him. And without the potential to activate the Sharingan, he was seen as unworthy of their attention. To them, Mikoto’s child was just another ordinary child, and the Uchiha cn didn’t concern themselves with ordinary people.

  Takashi Uchiha, Mikoto’s father, never openly acknowledged Itachi as his grandson. Though Mikoto sometimes saw hints of regret in his eyes when their paths crossed, he never reached out to her or Itachi. And for that, Mikoto was secretly relieved. She didn’t want her son to be dragged into the politics and expectations of the Uchiha cn.

  Free from their scrutiny, Mikoto and Itachi lived peacefully, building a life away from the pressures of the cn.

  Itachi’s growth continued to amaze everyone around him. By the time he turned three, he was already reading simple books and memorizing patterns that most adults struggled with. Mikoto often found him sitting quietly, observing the world with a level of focus that seemed far too mature for his age.

  “Look at him,” Kushina said one evening as she watched Itachi carefully rearranging wooden blocks into complex shapes. “He’s going to be a genius shinobi one day. You’re going to have your hands full, Mikoto.”

  Mikoto smiled, pride swelling in her chest. “I hope so,” she said. “But more than that, I just want him to be happy.”

  Itachi, as if sensing his mother’s voice, looked up and fshed her one of his bright, heartwarming smiles. Mikoto felt her worries melt away in that instant.

  Despite the challenges she had faced, Mikoto’s life was peaceful. She spent her days raising Itachi, teaching him everything she knew, and watching as he exceeded her expectations time and time again.

  Kushina remained her rock, always there to support her and dote on Itachi. The boy had quickly grown attached to Kushina, often calling her “Auntie Kushina” and running to her whenever she visited.

  “You’re spoiling him,” Mikoto teased one day as Kushina handed Itachi yet another treat.

  “I can’t help it!” Kushina protested. “He’s too cute, and he’s going to be brilliant! He deserves all the love in the world.”

  And Mikoto couldn’t argue with that.

  Though Mikoto was happy, there were moments when doubts crept into her mind—especially when she looked into Itachi’s emerald green eyes. They were Harry’s eyes, a constant reminder of the man who had given her so much and then vanished without a trace.

  She sometimes wondered if Harry even knew about Itachi, if he thought about her, or if he had simply moved on. But whenever those thoughts became too heavy, she pushed them aside and focused on the present.

  Itachi was her world now, and she would give him the best life possible.

  For now, Mikoto’s life was calm and fulfilling, but deep down, she knew this peace wouldn’t st forever. Itachi’s rapid development, his intellect, and the hints of untapped potential in his green eyes made her wonder if there was more to him than the Uchiha had assumed.

  And somewhere far away, Harry Pottaru was still out there, growing stronger, mastering powers that defied even the limits of the shinobi world.

  Mikoto’s days were filled with training and nurturing Itachi, pouring all her knowledge into her son. Since the Uchiha cn had dismissed Itachi as an outsider due to his emerald green eyes, Mikoto never pressured him to awaken the Sharingan. Instead, she focused on teaching him other shinobi arts—areas where she knew he could excel, regardless of his lineage.

  She started with Genjutsu, knowing it was one of the most versatile and underestimated arts. Itachi took to it like a fish to water. By the time he was four, he was already weaving subtle illusions, able to mislead and confuse animals and small creatures. Mikoto was astounded at his natural talent.

  Next, she introduced him to Fūinjutsu, the art of sealing. It was a complex and delicate field, requiring precision and deep understanding of chakra manipution. Yet, Itachi absorbed the lessons quickly, memorizing intricate seals and formus as if he had been born for it. Mikoto often joked that he must have inherited his father’s brilliance, and even Kushina, who occasionally dropped by to check on them, was impressed.

  “Look at this kid!” Kushina excimed one day, watching Itachi perfectly execute a low-level sealing technique. “I swear he’s smarter than most of the Jonin in the vilge!”

  Mikoto smiled, brushing Itachi’s hair as he beamed at the praise. “He’s my pride and joy.”

  Despite his talents, Mikoto made sure Itachi’s childhood wasn’t consumed by training. They ughed, pyed, and spent time exploring the vilge. It was a life filled with love and learning, and Mikoto had started to believe that maybe—just maybe—things would be okay after all.

  But the illusion of peace shattered the night the Nine-Tailed Fox attacked Konoha.

  It started with a deafening roar that echoed across the vilge, shaking the very ground beneath their feet. Mikoto had been putting Itachi to bed when the windows rattled violently, and the air became thick with chakra so oppressive it felt like a storm was brewing.

  She rushed outside, her instincts on high alert, and what she saw froze her in pce. The massive form of the Kyūbi, its fur glowing like molten fire and its red eyes filled with malice, loomed over the vilge, wreaking havoc with every swing of its tails.

  “Mama?” Itachi’s voice came from behind her, trembling.

  Mikoto turned immediately, scooping him up in her arms. “Stay close to me, Itachi. No matter what happens, don’t let go.”

  The screams of vilgers filled the air as shinobi rushed toward the beast, trying to contain the destruction. Mikoto’s first thought was to get to Kushina, but her instincts told her something terrible had happened. Kushina was the jinchūriki of the Nine-Tails—there was no way the beast would be free unless something had gone horribly wrong.

  Fighting against her panic, Mikoto moved swiftly, weaving through the chaos as she carried Itachi toward the outskirts of the vilge. Her thoughts raced. Where was the Hokage? Where were the Uchiha? The vilge’s defenses were crumbling, and she had no one she could rely on except herself.

  Finding shelter in a small, abandoned storehouse, Mikoto pced Itachi down, her hands trembling as she formed a protective seal around the entrance.

  “Listen to me, Itachi,” she said, crouching down to his level. “I need you to stay here and be quiet. No matter what you hear outside, don’t come out until I come back for you. Do you understand?”

  “But, Mama—”

  “No!” Her voice cracked, but she steadied herself. “You have to trust me. You’re smart, Itachi, smarter than most adults. I need you to be strong now.”

  Tears welled up in his emerald eyes, but he nodded. “I’ll wait for you.”

  Mikoto kissed his forehead before stepping outside. The world was in chaos, but she forced herself to focus. Her child’s safety was all that mattered.

  Outside, the battle raged on. Mikoto joined the other shinobi, using her Genjutsu to create illusions that distracted the Kyūbi, buying precious seconds for her allies to regroup. But despite their efforts, the beast was unstoppable.

  Somewhere in the distance, she saw the Fourth Hokage, Minato Namikaze, preparing a sealing technique. Relief washed over her—if anyone could stop this monster, it was Minato.

  But that relief was short-lived. As Mikoto fought to protect fleeing civilians, she felt an overwhelming pulse of chakra ripple through the air. The Kyūbi’s roar echoed once more before it vanished, sealed away at the cost of Minato’s life.

  Mikoto colpsed to her knees, exhausted and bloodied, but alive. She forced herself to her feet, ignoring the pain as she stumbled back to the storehouse where she had left Itachi.

  When she opened the door and saw him sitting there, clutching one of her old kunai with determination in his eyes but he was not alone as there are many children he rescued from the debris, her heart swelled with pride and relief.

  The Nine-Tails was sealed, but Konoha was left in ruins. Many lives were lost, including the Hokage and countless shinobi. Mikoto mourned for her friend Kushina, whose fate remained unknown, though rumors suggested she had died alongside Minato to seal the beast.

  The Uchiha cn, meanwhile, faced growing suspicion. Rumors spread that they had been involved in the Kyūbi’s release, and tensions between them and the vilge began to rise. Mikoto, already exiled, was left out of the political storm, but she kept a close eye on the situation.

  For Itachi, the attack marked a turning point. Seeing the destruction firsthand and feeling helpless during the chaos pushed him to train even harder. Mikoto noticed the change—his determination grew sharper, his focus more intense.

  She worried for him, but she also understood. He had inherited both her resilience and Harry’s intelligence, and she knew he would one day become a force to be reckoned with.

  But as Mikoto watched the sun set over the battered vilge, holding her son close, she couldn’t help but wonder—what would Harry think if he saw their son now? And more importantly, would he ever come back to see him?

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