Mikoto sat in the quiet of her home, the weight of grief pressing down on her like a heavy bnket. The news of Kushina’s death had shattered her. It wasn’t just the loss of a friend—it was the loss of a sister, the one person who had stood by her side when the world turned its back. Kushina had taken her in, given her a pce to belong, and never once judged her for the decisions she made.

  And now she was gone.

  Tears streamed down Mikoto’s face as she held Itachi close, his small arms wrapping around her neck. He didn’t fully understand the depth of her sorrow, but he sensed it. And in his quiet, thoughtful way, he tried to comfort her.

  “Don’t cry, Mama,” he whispered, his emerald-green eyes shining with worry. “Auntie Kushina wouldn’t want you to be sad.”

  Mikoto smiled weakly, brushing his hair back. “I know, sweetheart. I know.” But the ache in her heart didn’t lessen.

  As the days passed, Mikoto couldn’t stop thinking about Naruto—Kushina’s son. She knew the truth about him, about his lineage. He wasn’t just the child of her best friend; he was also the son of the Fourth Hokage, Minato Namikaze.

  And now, he was an orphan.

  Mikoto couldn’t bear the thought of Naruto growing up alone. She remembered the warmth and love Kushina had given her, and she wanted to pass that on to Naruto. He deserved to be raised in a home filled with care, not shuffled around like a burden.

  Determined, Mikoto approached the vilge council, formally requesting to adopt Naruto as her son.

  But her request was denied.

  The council had other pns. To them, Naruto wasn’t just a child—he was a Jinchūriki, the vessel of the Nine-Tails. He was both a weapon and a political tool, and the power to control him was something many factions within the vilge wanted.

  “He’s too important to be raised by someone with no political standing,” one council member had said bluntly. “You’re no longer part of the Uchiha cn, Mikoto. And even if you were, pcing the boy with anyone tied to the Uchiha is too dangerous. The rumors about the Nine-Tails having a Sharingan in its eyes have already caused enough suspicion.”

  Mikoto clenched her fists, barely restraining her anger. “He’s just a baby!” she argued. “He’s not a weapon or a tool—he’s a child! He needs love and care, not manipution!”

  But the council was unmoved. In the end, Naruto was sent to the orphanage, where he was treated with fear and resentment by the staff and other children.

  Despite the council’s decision, Mikoto refused to abandon Naruto. She made it a point to visit him as often as she could, bringing food, toys, and clothes. She always brought Itachi along, wanting him to know and care for Naruto, just as she did.

  Itachi quickly grew attached to the younger boy, treating him like a little brother. Naruto, in turn, adored Itachi, following him around and mimicking his actions.

  “Mama, can we take Naruto home with us?” Itachi asked one day as they left the orphanage.

  Mikoto’s heart broke at the question, but she forced a smile. “I wish we could, sweetie. But we’ll always be here for him, okay? We’ll make sure he knows he’s loved.”

  And she did.

  Whenever she visited, Mikoto spent time teaching Naruto small lessons—basic words, counting, even a few beginner exercises. She made sure he felt valued, even if the rest of the vilge looked at him with fear and resentment.

  But the visits weren’t enough to ease her guilt. Every time she left him behind, crying and reaching out for her, it tore her apart.

  Meanwhile, rumors about the Nine-Tails having a Sharingan in its eyes began to spread further. Whispers that the Uchiha cn might have been involved in the attack grew louder, increasing tensions between the Uchiha and the rest of the vilge.

  Mikoto overheard the whispers, and she knew what they meant. Even though she was no longer part of the cn, the Uchiha name still cast a shadow over her life. She feared for Naruto, knowing that if the vilge turned against him, he would have no one to defend him.

  And in the back of her mind, she began to worry about Itachi. With his sharp intelligence and rapid growth, she wondered if the vilge might one day look at him the same way they looked at Naruto—with suspicion instead of admiration.

  One night, after putting Itachi to bed, Mikoto sat alone, staring at the small bag of treasures Harry had left her. It was enough to ensure a comfortable life, but it couldn’t protect her son or Naruto from the dangers of the world.

  She traced her fingers over the bag, thinking of Harry. Where was he now? Did he even know about Naruto? About the Nine-Tails? About the life she had built in his absence?

  Mikoto shook her head, brushing away the thoughts. She couldn’t dwell on what-ifs. She had to focus on the present—on raising Itachi and protecting Naruto as best she could.

  “I’ll keep them safe,” she whispered to herself. “No matter what.”

  And as she gazed out the window at the moonlit vilge, she resolved to grow stronger. For Itachi. For Naruto. And for the family she had built, even if it was incomplete.

  At just seven years old, Itachi Uchiha stood at the top of his css, earning the title of Rookie of the Year upon graduating from the Ninja Academy. His brilliance and skill had already begun to turn heads throughout the vilge, and many saw him as a prodigy unlike any Konoha had seen in years.

  Mikoto was overwhelmed with pride as she watched her son achieve so much at such a young age. She had always known he was destined for greatness, but seeing him step into the world of shinobi so early filled her with a mixture of joy and anxiety. She feared that his brilliance would draw unwanted attention, but she trusted Itachi’s judgment and discipline.

  The day he received his forehead protector was one of the happiest moments in Mikoto’s life. She hugged him tightly, tears in her eyes.

  “I’m so proud of you, Itachi,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

  Itachi, ever calm and composed, smiled softly. “Thank you, Mama. I’ll make you proud.”

  She ruffled his wild bck hair. “You already have.”

  Shortly after graduation, Itachi was pced on a genin team under the guidance of a seasoned Jonin instructor. Despite his age, he quickly established himself as the strongest member of his squad, taking the lead during missions and earning the admiration of his teammates.

  Most of their early assignments were D-rank missions—simple tasks like chasing down lost pets, pulling weeds, and delivering supplies. Itachi approached even these mundane tasks with the same discipline and focus he applied to his training, earning praise from his instructor.

  But while his missions were important, Itachi never let them distract him from the bonds he cherished most. Whenever he had free time, he returned home to spend it with Naruto Uzumaki.

  Naruto, now a hyperactive and curious toddler, idolized Itachi. Every time Mikoto brought Itachi along to visit him at the orphanage, Naruto’s eyes would light up with excitement. He followed Itachi everywhere, hanging on his every word and copying his movements with childlike enthusiasm.

  “Itachi-niisan!” Naruto would yell, his face beaming. “Show me that move again!”

  Itachi, who rarely smiled for others, always had a soft expression reserved for Naruto. He humored the boy, showing him basic stances, hand seals, and even simple exercises to practice.

  “You have to focus, Naruto,” Itachi said one day, watching as the younger boy tried—and failed—to bance on one foot while holding a kunai.

  “I am focusing!” Naruto pouted, waving his arms to keep from falling over.

  Itachi chuckled. “Focus isn’t about trying too hard. It’s about clearing your mind and trusting your body to follow.”

  Naruto blinked up at him, wide-eyed. “Clear my mind? Like… stop thinking?”

  “Exactly,” Itachi said. “Let your movements flow naturally.”

  Naruto furrowed his brows in concentration, and Itachi patiently guided him through the exercise until he got it right. Mikoto watched from a distance, smiling as she saw how gently Itachi treated Naruto.

  “He’s like a big brother to him,” Mikoto said quietly to herself. And in a way, that’s exactly what he had become.

  Despite Naruto’s growing bond with Itachi, the rest of the vilge wasn’t so kind. Many people still treated Naruto with suspicion and fear, bming him for the Nine-Tails attack years earlier. Mikoto saw the way vilgers whispered when Naruto passed by, the way their gazes hardened when they thought he wasn’t looking.

  It infuriated her.

  “He’s just a child,” she said to Itachi one evening as they walked home. “Why can’t they see that?”

  Itachi’s expression darkened slightly. “Because they’re afraid,” he said. “They can’t see past their fear to understand who he really is.”

  Mikoto stopped walking and turned to her son. “Promise me something, Itachi.”

  He looked up at her, his emerald eyes calm and steady. “What is it, Mama?”

  “Promise me you’ll always protect him,” she said softly. “No matter what happens, don’t let this vilge break him.”

  Itachi nodded without hesitation. “I promise.”

  Naruto’s admiration for Itachi grew stronger with each passing day. Whenever Itachi practiced his techniques, Naruto was there, watching in awe and trying to mimic his movements.

  “I’m gonna be just like you one day, Itachi-niisan!” Naruto decred one afternoon, puffing out his chest. “I’ll be the strongest ninja ever—and I’ll be Hokage too!”

  Itachi smiled, kneeling to Naruto’s level. “You can do it, Naruto. But strength isn’t just about power. It’s about protecting the people you care about.”

  “I’ll protect everyone!” Naruto said, his voice full of determination.

  Itachi reached out and ruffled his spiky blond hair. “Then you’ll be a great Hokage someday.”

  Naruto grinned, and Mikoto felt a surge of warmth in her chest as she watched them. Despite everything—despite the Uchiha’s rejection, the vilge’s mistrust, and the uncertainty of the future—there was hope.

  As the months passed, life settled into a peaceful rhythm. Itachi continued to excel in his missions, quickly earning recognition as a prodigy, while Naruto grew stronger under Mikoto’s and Itachi’s guidance.

  But Mikoto couldn’t shake the feeling that this peace wouldn’t st forever. The tension between the Uchiha cn and the rest of the vilge was growing, and whispers of unrest began to reach her ears.

  She clutched the bag of treasures Harry had given her, wondering—not for the first time—where he was and if he even knew about the family he had left behind.

  And as she watched Itachi and Naruto train together, she silently prayed that whatever storm was coming, they would both be strong enough to weather it.

  It was supposed to be a day of celebration—a day when the vilge honored the Fourth Hokage for his sacrifice and the victory over the Nine-Tailed Fox. The streets were filled with ughter, fireworks lit up the sky, and vilgers drank to their hearts’ content. But for Itachi, the night quickly turned into a nightmare.

  He had just returned from a mission, exhausted but eager to check in on Naruto. It had become a tradition for him and his mother to celebrate Naruto’s birthday quietly, away from the loud and rowdy festivities. Mikoto always made sure Naruto had a small cake and gifts, reminding him that he was loved, even if the rest of the vilge treated him like an outcast.

  But as soon as Itachi entered the vilge, something felt wrong.

  The streets were louder than usual—more chaotic. Drunken voices carried curses, and Itachi heard Naruto’s name mentioned more than once, always accompanied by slurs and insults.

  His instincts fred. Something was wrong.

  He picked up his pace, heading toward the orphanage. But Naruto wasn’t there. The matron avoided his gaze when he questioned her, mumbling something incoherent about orders and protocol before locking the door.

  Itachi’s mind raced. He remembered the strange insistence of a council member that his team take a st-minute mission earlier that day—something that pulled him away from the vilge during the festival. And now Naruto, who was supposed to be safely tucked away in the orphanage, was nowhere to be found.

  The pieces fell into pce.

  They kicked him out.

  They sent him out, defenseless and alone, knowing exactly what would happen. The drunken mob wasn’t celebrating—it was hunting.

  Panic surged through Itachi, and he sprinted toward the noise, his sharp senses leading him toward the commotion. As he drew closer, he heard screams—small, terrified screams.

  “Demon!”

  “Monster!”

  “You don’t belong here!”

  Itachi turned a corner and saw him—Naruto. The small boy, barely four years old, was running as fast as his tiny legs could carry him. Tears streamed down his cheeks, and his voice was hoarse from crying and screaming for help.

  Behind him was a mob, armed with makeshift weapons—bottles, sticks, and rocks. Their faces were twisted in rage, fueled by alcohol and hatred.

  “Get back here, you filthy fox!”

  “This is the night your kind dies!”

  Itachi felt his blood run cold. This wasn’t a celebration—it was an execution.

  “Naruto!” Itachi yelled, his voice cutting through the crowd.

  Naruto looked back, his wide blue eyes locking onto Itachi’s. “Itachi-niisan!” he cried out, stumbling as he turned toward him.

  Itachi’s body moved before his mind could process. With a burst of chakra, he crossed the distance in seconds, appearing between Naruto and the mob.

  “Stop!” he shouted, his voice sharp and commanding. The mob hesitated, but their drunken rage quickly reignited.

  “Get out of the way, Uchiha!” one man growled. “That thing doesn’t deserve to live!”

  “He’s just a child!” Itachi roared, his emerald-green eyes bzing. “What you’re doing is a crime! Do you even hear yourselves?”

  “He’s a demon!” a woman shrieked. “He killed our families—our friends! He’ll grow up to do the same!”

  Itachi’s hands moved faster than they could see, forming seals. Genjutsu activated in an instant, and half the mob colpsed, clutching their heads and screaming as they were trapped in terrifying illusions.

  But then, something unexpected happened.

  One by one, the civilians began to recover. Itachi’s sharp eyes caught the flicker of chakra flow spreading through the crowd—a deliberate interference that shattered his illusion. His breath hitched as he realized the truth.

  Shinobi.

  They were hidden among the mob, disguised as civilians. And now that they had revealed themselves, Itachi’s instincts fred into overdrive. These weren’t drunken vilgers acting on impulse—this was a coordinated attack.

  Itachi held Naruto tightly against his chest, his small frame trembling in fear. The hatred in the crowd’s voices rang in his ears, sharp and cutting like kunai.

  “He is no Uchiha, he is just a bastard!”

  “Kill the bastard and his filthy mother!”

  “They’re traitors, protecting that monster!”

  The mob moved like a pack of wild beasts, their eyes bzing with rage, their hands armed with torches, knives, and makeshift weapons. Their steps pounded against the dirt, shaking the ground as they surged toward him and Naruto.

  Naruto sobbed into Itachi’s chest, his tiny fists clutching at the fabric of Itachi’s shirt. “Niisan… I’m scared!”

  Itachi’s heart raced. His arms tightened around Naruto, shielding him from the oncoming horde. He couldn’t let them hurt Naruto. He wouldn’t let them.

  Think, think! Itachi’s mind raced, but his options were limited. Even with his training, there were too many of them, and the few shinobi hidden among the crowd made the situation even worse. He needed to protect Naruto—but how?

  “STOP!” Itachi roared, his voice raw with desperation and fury.

  The ground rumbled beneath their feet, and the air grew heavy with chakra as Itachi’s emerald eyes glowed ominously. Suddenly, the earth split open, and from its depths, massive trees began to burst forth. Their roots twisted and coiled, spreading like wildfire as if guided by an unseen will.

  In seconds, a protective dome of intertwining branches and leaves enveloped Itachi and Naruto, shielding them from the mob. The vilgers screamed in terror as the roots snaked toward them, cracking stone and splintering wood as they moved.

  The roots shed out, grabbing torches, weapons, and debris, hurling them aside like twigs. The mob’s courage evaporated, and in their panic, they fled, stumbling over one another to escape the living forest.

  Amid the chaos, high above on the rooftop of a nearby building, Danzo Shimura stood, his single visible eye wide with shock. He gripped the edge of the roof, leaning forward as if trying to confirm what he had just witnessed.

  “Impossible…” Danzo whispered, his voice barely audible. “Mokuton…?”

  Author's Note:

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