The skies were clear until she stepped into the scent of war.
A lone man crawled across the rain-slick border of Amegakure, his body broken, bleeding heavily from the waist. Naomi ran to his side, hands already glowing with healing chakra. She pressed her palms against the open wound, channeling chakra into the arteries, stabilizing the flow, replacing what had been lost. Her movements were steady, precise—like someone who had done this too many times, for too many dying men.
Within moments, the man's shallow breaths deepened, the crimson slowed, and life returned to his paling face.
"Thank you…" he choked, his voice hoarse with disbelief. "Thank you for saving me…"
He fumbled into his cloak and retrieved a small silver locket, placing it into her hands.
"Please… take this. It's all I have. Sell it—use it. But let me give you something in return."
Naomi stared down at the tarnished silver. She shook her head gently.
"There's no need, sir. I only did what I had to."
But he pushed it toward her with trembling hands. "I insist."
The man vanished into the mist soon after, leaving Naomi with nothing but the cold glint of the locket in her palm. She stood alone, eyes fixed on the trinket, unsure why it weighed so heavily.
Then, she felt it
A presence. Strong, unwavering, grave.
"Your medical ninjutsu is powerful," came a voice from behind. "You should make the best use of it."
She turned swiftly. A tall man stood before her, draped in a black cloak patterned with blood-red clouds. Orange hair, pierced face, eyes that stared through her.
"I don't plan on wasting it," Naomi said calmly."Myskills are meant to save people."
"A noble belief," he replied, his tone unreadable. "One the Akatsuki could make use of."
Her brows drew together. "Akatsuki?"
"Akatsuki is a place for those who have been failed by the world yet want to protect peace," he continued. "Peace cannot exist without pain. Without loss. To break the cycle of suffering and loss, To achieve the real peace the system must be rebuilt. And that's what Akatsuki's purpose is. To break and rebuilt the world so that peace will be inevitable."
His words struck her like a riddle carved in stone. Something about them disturbed her—yet rang true in a place too deep to ignore.
"I can see it in your eyes," he said.
"You've lost. You've been betrayed. You wander now, with power you don't know where to place."
He stepped closer, gaze heavy.
"We offer purpose. A place where your strength will be valued. And a path to peace—real peace."
Naomi hesitated.
Her soul recoiled—but her body remained still. The road she walked had long since lost meaning. Her strength had no name, no recognition. Her heart, cracked with old griefs, longed for somewhere—anywhere—to belong.
"I'll come with you," she said softly, then firmer.
"But don't expect me to betray my healing for your destruction. I will save lives. That is the only purpose I'll serve."
The man nodded.
"I am Pain," he said. "And the Akatsuki welcomes you, Naomi Yakushiha."
A woman stepped forward from the mist behind him—calm, blue-haired, with a paper flower tucked into her locks. She held out a folded cloak.
Naomi took it in silence.
She followed them through the rain, her feet heavy but steady.
And as she entered the veiled halls of the Akatsuki, her breath caught in her chest.
There, standing among the shadows, cloaked in silence, was a ghost she never expected to see again.
Hollow-eyed. Soul unreadable.
Itachi Uchiha.
Her world had crashed down the moment she saw him.
All the memories came rushing back—Shisui's smile, the warmth of the Uchiha district, Itachi's unwavering gaze. They struck her like lightning, each memory a blade cutting through her chest.
When Pain introduced her to the rest of the members, Itachi's eyes met hers for only a brief moment. There was no flicker of surprise, no break in his calm facade. His gaze was empty, unreadable. She couldn't tell if it was indifference or something else buried too deep to see.
She said nothing. She didn't know what to say.
The Akatsuki worked in pairs. Itachi was partnered with Kisame. Naomi had no partner—her place was in the shadows of the base, her hands mending wounds, her chakra stitching flesh back together. She never joined missions. Itachi never once stepped into her care. He returned from assignments silent, uninjured—or perhaps simply unwilling to show weakness. He moved like an empty vessel, a ghost in human skin.
Watching him like this stirred her old questions into a restless storm. She still wanted answers. She still wanted to know why. Why Shisui had to die. Why Itachi had taken him from her.
And when she overheard word of Itachi's next mission—a long-term assignment in the Hidden Sound Village—she knew this was her chance.
But Kisame was already his assigned partner. That had to change.
Naomi went to Pain's office, the air thick with the metallic tang of rain.
"I want to go on the mission to the Hidden Sound Village," she said. Her tone was steady, but there was a thread of tension beneath it.
Pain didn't look up immediately. When he did, his eyes were sharp. "You're not assigned to missions. Your work is healing. This task is already in Kisame and Itachi's hands."
"I know," Naomi replied, meeting his gaze without wavering. "But I believe I should go instead of Kisame. And I have a reason."
Pain's gaze narrowed, assessing her like prey. "Then give me a reason. Why should a medic be sent on a mission of this weight?"
Naomi drew a slow breath. "I've sensed irregularities in the chakra of a shinobi from the Hidden Sound Village. To me, it suggests they're experimenting with a forbidden technique—something that's tampered with their natural flow of chakra. It may even involve advanced medical sealing techniques. If the Akatsuki wants to uncover the truth, you'll need someone who understands these systems in depth. I'm the only one here with the knowledge to identify and dissect that kind of work. Sending anyone else would waste the opportunity."
Pain was silent, studying her every breath. Searching for lies. Finding none.
"Your reasoning is sound," he said at last. "But why replace Kisame? Why not send him with you?"
Naomi's throat tightened, but she spoke evenly. "Itachi Uchiha is unmatched in precision. His genjutsu, his ability to work in silence,he's the ideal partner for a mission that demands subtlety."
Pain considered her for a long, heavy moment.
"Very well. You will accompany Itachi. But understand this is outside your usual duty. If you're captured, I expect nothing but loyalty. Prepare yourself. It will be a long mission."
Naomi inclined her head and left his office. Relief flickered through her—but so did something else. Hope.
At last, she was taking her first step toward the truth.
The day of the mission arrived.
Itachi stood at the border of the Hidden Rain, dark cloak swaying in the damp wind. He was waiting for his partner, Kisame. At least, that's who he expected.
Instead, Naomi stepped out from the mist.
"...Hey," she said, her voice catching. Years of watching him from a distance, and yet this was the first time she'd spoken to him since joining the Akatsuki.
"I… I'll be going with you. In Kisame's place." She tried for a small, uncertain smile. "Pain's orders," she added quickly, eyes dropping to the ground as if that would steady her.
Itachi didn't say a word. He turned and began walking, silent as a shadow.
She blinked, thrown off. "Hey—wait!" Naomi hurried after him, her boots splashing in shallow puddles.
"You must be… surprised to see me here instead of Kisame, right? Well, Pain thought I'd be the most suitable one, so… he sent me." Her words tumbled out, a little too fast.
Itachi kept moving, his pace unchanging, eyes fixed ahead.
Naomi's chest tightened at his silence. She swallowed back the urge to keep talking. For now, she let the space between them stay heavy, walking in step with him through the trees.
They moved through the dripping forest in silence, the mist curling between the branches like ghostly hands. Naomi could hear nothing but the steady rhythm of his footsteps ahead of her, each one deliberate, unhurried just like the boy she remembered.
She wanted to speak. To ask him why he had taken Shisui away from her… why his name had been forever linked with that night. But the words felt like stones in her throat, too heavy to throw into the stillness between them.
A flash of memory struck—Shisui's warm smile, the gentle weight of his hand ruffling her hair, the unshakable admiration in his eyes. The memory turned her chest hollow.
Shisui…
Her lips parted, the name almost slipping out, but she caught herself. Not yet.
A droplet of rain slid down her cheek, though she wasn't sure if it was rain at all. She blinked hard, steadying her breathing, forcing herself to match his pace.
The path narrowed, the trees pressing in around them. Itachi never looked back, never asked why she had come, and perhaps that was the most unsettling thing of all—he didn't seem curious, or wary. It was as if her presence made no ripple in his world.
Still, Naomi stayed close, her eyes fixed on his back. This mission wasn't just about the Hidden Sound. It was her first step toward the truth.
|To be continued|