Nindo of Sasuke Potter
Summary: Harry had the hang to get stuck in the most impossible situations but this was getting ridiculous, he should be dead. Not prancing around as some ninja.
Warnings: OOC!Sasuke/Harry, maybe a bit of AU! Grammar errors! No regular update!
AN: Flame me, hate me. It's a REWRITTEN version of Sasuke Potter, but most of the chapters are pretty much the same, however, I was just unsatisfied with the first try and decided to write it from the beginning. Sorry for the inconvenience. The 'original' will be deleted when this one catches up halfway.
Chapter One: fast-forward to the first meeting
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|| Old ruins in the mountains of Japan ||
Harry stumbled and weakly tried to hold himself upright, hand shaking against the dirty wall. Great, just bloody great, of course, he needed to touch the strange looking stone with the strange writing and the strange engraved tadpoles, so, of course, that action needed to have consequences.
He breathed shakily out, blood coloring his pink lips. He swallowed heavily, fighting the impulse to cough up his tee from the morning. How ridiculous.
The wizard released a hollow laugh, coughing, he was dying. He felt it, his magic felt it as it swirled around him, panicking, trying to comfort him.
He leaned against the wall and with a tired huff, slides down. Once, a long time ago, Harry thought, that he would die at the hands of the Dursleys, forgotten in a small room, starved to dead; deliberately or unintentionally.
It didn't happen.
Then, he knew, that he would die at the hands of Voldemort. At that time, he was so tired, so unbelievable tired.
It didn't happen.
Then, he played with the thought about dying at the hands of some rogue death eater. There were many opportunities when he helped the ministry in catching them.
It didn't happen either.
Harry relaxed, of course, it would be impossible for him to die of old age. He breathed out, numbness spreading, like falling to sleep, Sirius told him.
He was right.
He closed his eyes when the air around him became heavy. At the end, he got no chance to die of old age, being surrounded by grandchildren, by friends, by family.
It was peaceful, finally calm.
Harry Potter died with a smile on his lips.
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"Mikoto-sama, just a little bit, breath and push!" An overly enthusiastic, young, nurse encouraged. The black haired who was encouraged, suppressed a scream of frustration. The nurse could count herself lucky that they took away her weapons or she would have been no more.
Why, oh, why, did she decided to have another kid? How could she forgot how much childbirth hurt. Her coward of a husband, Fukagu, declined vehemently to be in the room, apparently having been scared of by her first birth, the birth of Itachi. He opted, with as much dignity as he could, to wait outside in safety and took Itachi with him, would not have the boy being mentally scared for life.
The young nurse once again spoke encouragingly in that irritatingly screechy voice but the mother ignored it as she felt, that indeed, it was just a little bit. Also, she took a deep breath and pushed with strength she thought to be lost.
Exhausted, she fell back on the back, taking big gulps of air, however, abruptly, her eyes snapped open, before she even noticed that she closed them.
No scream. There was no scream!
She remembered, when she birthed Itachi, the boy let out a high, shrilly scream, a scream that only new born babies could produce. Where was the scream? She opened her mouth, to be proven wrong, to be assured that she, in her exhaustion, just missed it.
"What. Is. Wrong?" She spoke in a razor sharp voice, narrowing her eyes at the whispering nurses. The nurses jumped at the low and dangerous voice.
An older nurse, not the annoying young one, came to her with a still bundle. Dread and sorrow filled her before she could even comprehend the situation. It couldn't be, her child couldn't be a stil-
To her surprise, the old women smiled softly and placed the small bundle into her arms. "It's a quiet but very healthy baby boy, congratulations" She spoke softly and reassuringly to the young mother.
Mikoto eyes shifted at once to the small baby. It was quiet, but clear and oh, so, alive, dark eyes looked up to her. A relieved smile fell over her face. Her son was alive, he breathed and moved and he was alive, and that was the only thing that now counted. She took the bundle into her arms, holding the small babe close.
"Mikoto?" A voice cut into her thoughts and she looked up to the worried face of her husband.
"I'm fine and the child is fine too" She reassured with calmness she didn't fell. Fugaku let out a rare smile as he looked at his newborn son.
Mikoto blinked as she noticed Itachi, half hiding behind Fugaku's leg, in a rare display of shyness. She smiled and beckoned him closer, the small five year old tip topped and peered at his new baby brother.
"He's tiny" He stated with a frown.
"Well, you were this tiny once too." Mikoto answered with a smile, but shared a secretive smile with Fukagu. Itachi didn't really paid mind to her and lifted his hand to poke the baby on the soft cheek. He couldn't believe that he was once small like that.
His black eyes widened as a small, tiny hand came to his finger and shoved it aside. He blinked, was he just now dismissed?
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Sasuke -as the child was named, in honor of Sarutobi Sasuke, who died protecting Konoha- was a quiet child. In fact, so silent that the parents became concerned that there was something wrong with their youngest child. Even, Itachi, a prodigious child, hadn't behaved like that.
However, every tests turned up negative and the medics never found a reason to worry always assuring that the child was healthy. It was unusual, they were told, but reassured that maybe it was just the character of young Sasuke.
After a year, little Sasuke came to blabber like every other child and the Uchiha household almost wished the silence back.
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Harry let himself fall back on the porch, his back hitting hard wood. Calmly, he looked up to the twinkling stars shining in the night sky; at least it -the sky- was something that didn't change. Still, he couldn't help but feel like they were mocking him, just like death.
He was supposed to be dead, having tea time with his parents in heaven or a glaring contest with Riddle in hell.
Not this. Not here in a country that was all wrong. He closed his eyes and a grimace fluttered over his childish face. Harry ended in a land full of bloodshed, of war, of hate and killing. Now, he had his fair share of killing and violence, mercy was something that left him after the second wizarding war. Still, it was so..so very wrong.
At first, he thought it was some kind of dream, hallucinated while he lay dying; he never woke up. Then he came to the ridiculous assumption that this all was some kind of test, to see if he should go to heaven or hell.
The older soul in the younger body suppressed a mirthless laugh. A laugh, that would have even scared the block of ice that called itself his father.
Fukagu was a cold man, cynic, determined eyes always directed to a goal. In a disturbing way, he reminded him of Snape, the bitter man who lost his life because of stupid decisions. His (new) mother on the other hand was like an angel. Always kind, always with a smile on her face. Never stumped at how particular her youngest son behaved. Would have been his mother, his other one, (his real one?), Lily Potter, be the same?
He shook his head, to get rid of the bitterness, it does no good to dwell to much on the past.
Still, even if Fukagu had an stick up his ass, Harry could see that he loved his family, he cared. It was something Harry could respect. He was just the kind of person who was socially inept. Not that Harry had a say in it, he was always dense in such things.
Then there was Itachi, great, smart, wonderful and talented Itachi. What wouldn't Have Harry given to have such a brother in the past . For all that the first-born of the Uchiha family was young, he already had enough cynicism in himself to make even an old man proud. He already saw the horrors of violence and more importantly, he understood. Harry could see in the other boy a soul after his own, pacifistic, but not selfish enough to stop fighting. He was it as his responsibility to fight for his family, his honor, his village, for all but himself. Yet, for all that Harry could see the similarity, was Itachi different, if at nothing else, than in his intelligence. The boy was a genius, that kind of person that even prodigies were jealous of.
He huffed a breath out, a small smile fluttering across his face. It was nice, to be unconditionally loved, to be loved for just being born without having to proof himself.
"Sasuke?" A familiar voice called to him and light, silent footsteps came to a halt besides him. Dark eyes opened and Harry starred at the well-hidden concern in the face of his brother, who peered down at him.
"Yeah?" He inquired, not moving from his sprawled position on the floor, observing the small smile on the others face at his undignified position.
"Alright?" The older boy asked, sitting down besides his brother on the porch. Harry grinned reassuring at him. A nice boy, yes, he thought as his eyes softened, what wouldn't he have given to have such a brother.
"Bad day at the academy?" Itachi guessed after awhile and Harry shook his head in denial.
"No, it was like every other day." That means fascinating, boring and absolute horrifying that children, children at such a young age were mentored in the art of killing. Not to mention the loud kids; Harry never remembered having been that loud.
"I'm just thinking" Harry stated truthfully, all that thinking was making his head hurt. The two of them fell down into a comfortable silence. Harry's eyes focused again on the stars. No. It didn't change, they still mocked him. Their silent laughter echoing in his ears.
He closed his eyes and leaned back.
"Hey, Itachi?" Harry began, filling the silence. Itachi didn't answer but he knew from experience that he had the attention of the other.
"Do you think there is something wrong with this world?"
The older brother hummed quietly and Harry realized that the other covered his surprise at the question.
"...wrong?" He parroted at least. The former wizard opened his eyes, rolling his head to the side so that he could meet the eyes of the other.
He opened his mouth to explain but, as he starred into dark eyes, left his voice him.
"It's nothing," he covered quickly. Who was he to judge the world? Why did he even ask in the first place?
"You must be tired," Harry commented with false cheer. "Coming back from a mission and all." He changed the topic and with that he stood up, stretching himself.
Itachi observed him with a neutral face.
"Well, goodnight," Harry said, ruffling the sitting boy's hair and running away before the other could do anything.
Itachi observed with the tiniest bit of perplexity.
"Wrong, huh?" He muttered into the night.
| 1 |
It made no sense.
Harry frowned, walking slowly to his favorite place of the house. The porch before the pond, the one besides the Sakura tree.
It was fishy, the whole situation was fishy. Shisui's dead and Itachi's apparent involvement. Hell, the whole bloody Uchiha clan behaved suspicious. The worried and strained face of Mikoto. Fukagu was growing stiffer and stiffer, eyes burning with a hidden agenda and Itachi was plagued by sadness and guilt and anger and so much more. Even the nice, jovial couple from the bakery was tense, like the rest of the clan.
He came to a halt besides the pond. Shisui, how did he die? Harry shook his head, no, the question was, why did he die?
Shisui wasn't depressed, on the contrary, he was very spirited -almost too much to be called a Uchiha. Harry couldn't believe, couldn't accept that the friend of his brother commit suicide, however, he also couldn't -wouldn't- believe that Itachi killed his best friend.
No, he wouldn't do that, he wasn't that kind of person. So, what happened? A trap for Itachi? Some sort of decoy?
He glared at this blurry reflection on the water. Why was this family so complicated? Harry walked up to the sakura tree, sliding down against it. He leaned his head back, accepting the fact that Shisui -a boy he didn't know that good, but who, without demanding something in return, taught him the basic katas of the sword.
He looked up to the sky, hidden behind the branches of the tree.
Pink petals fell on his face.
The holes between the branches, letting the blue sky through, were just big enough for his arm. Maybe, if Harry just stretched out his arms long enough, he could reach the endless sky; escaping.
A soft smile grew on his face. He wouldn't, even if his arms were long enough.
It doesn't do good to dwell on dreams. Dumbledore once said. Perhaps he should take this advice to heart, maybe then, he wouldn't disappoint himself.
An inelegant snort escaped him at the thought.
Dark eyes closed. An all too familiar feeling of despair grew in him. Somehow, he didn't think that this would end well.
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Harry changed from walking to jogging. Mikoto -his mother- would be upset if he came, once again, late for dinner. The last time, she threatened to color all his shirts pink. He shuddered faintly, any self-respecting man knew that, that wasn't a color you should be seen with.
His steps echoed through the silent compound and he narrowed his eyes as he paid close attention to his surroundings. It was too quiet. Was there some gathering of which he wasn't informed? Usually, while he couldn't attend, he was told of it or rather warned of it, so that he didn't go running off and do something incredible stupid.
He furrowed his brows further, his nose twitching at a familiar smell.
The stench of blood.
Dread filled up his stomach and he picked up his speed, trying to ignore the urge to trow up as he came to face with the lifeless bodies of his clansmen. Harry only spend some seconds starring at the old bakery couple, clenching his fists to hands.
He ran. He couldn't do anything, they were dead.
First, he needed to see his parents.
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Harry sat stoically, blinking blankly at the adults surrounding him. He always knew that he had childish moments, but seeing the adults fight over him, made him believe that he was the most mature person in this village.
The Hyuuga, just as proud and prude as the Uchiha, wanted him as a branch-member, from what Harry gathered, marrying him of to some Hyuuga girl so that they could produce some babies with powerful eye-techniques and most importantly, all under the control of said clan.
Harry pointedly glared at the clan-head when he caught his eyes.
Another person wanted him as a heir for the clan, apparently, wanting to use the Uchiha to became famous and great and all that other shit what Harry didn't want. He wouldn't become some trophy, once was enough. Once was more than enough.
At least, if nothing else, the former wizard could count himself lucky that the Hokage -in contrary to a certain minister, no, scratch that, to certain ministers,- had a good head on his shoulder. That didn't stop his dropping respect for the village.
Back to the main problem.
This was a land were you could became a trained killer as a child, but it wasn't possible for him to live alone?
His eyes strayed to the village leader. Did the Sandaime think that he wasn't able to look after himself? It was understandable, he was a kid that just lost his whole family to his own brother. A fact that still didn't add up in Harry's mind. It was true that Itachi's relationship with his parents, especially Fukagu was strained, but he wouldn't kill them. He loved them and they loved him.
Why would he kill them for the sake of testing his strength? Such a reasoning, he couldn't believe. Harry knew Itachi, maybe even better than anyone else; Harry understood him.
He wouldn't. Not like that. Not with such reasoning. Not with such tears in his eyes.
He clenched his hands in his laps. He had enough of this farce.
"Excuse me?" Harry said to the colorful gathering, he knew when to be polite. While his voice wasn't particularly loud, it still took the attention of all, if the rapid snapping of heads was any indication.
Annoying, apparently, they hadn't expected him to speak up.
"Yes, Sasuke-kun?" The Hokage inquired in a grandfatherly voice, reminding him of Dumbledore; in good ways and in bad ways.
"I understand that you are all concerned for me." How he managed to stop his voice from getting sarcastic, Harry didn't know, but he was grateful. "However, what is the problem of me just living alone?" He asked innocently enough in the ground, blinking.
The old man just took a swig of his pipe -Harry suspected there were some kind of drugs in it- and studied him quietly. The others weren't as quiet and Harry suppressed the motion to cover his ears.
"You're just a kid." A voice called.
"You need someone to look after!"
"-can't be left alone-"
"-situation very delicate-"
"-can't look after yourself!"
Harry twitched at the comments that he managed to catch.
"I understand that you wouldn't want to replace your family, Sasuke-kun" The Hokage spoke again, trying to be reasonable, bless him, Harry might begin to actually like the man- "Be assured that we have no attention of replacing them with someone or making you forget."
"I didn't mean that," Harry said, ignoring the muttering of the others around, only concentrating on the Sandaime. Then a thought overcame him. "One of my classmates lives alone, doesn't he?" He questioned, well, Harry thought, he did, the loud brat with the pranks. Haruto or something.
However, based on the sour expressions on the faces of the assembled, he was right.
"His situation is different." The village head explained and glared at a man who opened his mouth to shout something undoubtedly rude.
"Sure," Harry agreed easily enough. "I hope that there are not many in my situation." He muttered to himself. "However, at the end, he has the same age as me? So why is he allowed to live alone and me not?" The Uchiha asked curiously.
"You need someone to look-" The Hokage began but was cut of by Harry's muttering.
"-Hey, I have the idea! I could built some kind of commune with that blonde!" He exclaimed, somehow, he managed to baffle himself with his brilliance. "A shared apartment." Harry nodded to himself, yes, with a child he would be able to deal. A child wouldn't command him around, or worse, trying to be a parent for him.
For what Harry wasn't surprised was the stark reaction to his words.
"-an Uchiha with the demon brat?!"
"-out of your mind!"
"-With that monster!"
The young boy would have laughed at the whole incredulity of the situation if it wouldn't have been such a bitter and serious affair. What was up with that reaction? Were pranks seen here as that bad? What did the boy do to earn such hate from them?
"Enough!" The old Hokage yelled, and the clan heads reared back in surprise. Sarutobi watched the young boy, the young boy who took the whole situation too casually, maybe didn't comprehend it completely? No, he thought as he starred at infinite dark eyes, the other understood it exactly. However, pairing the Uchiha with Naruto would be too much.
"It's okay, I think the best route is for Sasuke-kun to live alone." Sarutobi said, smiling gently at said boy. "Either way, he will soon graduate from the academy and with that he would become an adult.." The old man trailed of, the room was silent.
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At the end, Harry chose to not remain in the Uchiha complex, the sane part of him couldn't live in the house were his family was murdered. Not to mention the spooky-ness of the now deserted streets of the compound. It was only now that he realized that the Uchiha clan was rather isolated from the rest of the village.
However, he didn't decide to move into an apartment in the middle of Konoha, no, he chose a building just outside of the Uchiha-grounds that was still under the ownership of the Uchiha, which now fell solely on Harry. He was the only one living in it, the other apartments were empty, another reason why he chose it. He didn't want overly attached neighbors who meddle into his affairs.
It was now two months after the massacre and most of the time was spend in the hospital recovering from the Tsukiyomi of Itachi.
He looked down on his dinner, simple noddles. Harry missed them, it was quiet, sure, their meals were always quiet but there was still the rustle of clothes and chopsticks, the small irritated mumbles of Fukagu about incompetent Shinobis, the secretly amused smiles of Mikoto or his silent communication with Itachis through their eyes.
Absolutely too quiet.
It wasn't fair, it really wasn't fair, just when he got a family, when he began to open up -to love them...
Tears sprang from his eyes , falling into the cup of noddles, Harry paid no mind to it.
His whole body shook as choked sobs left him, his trembling hands formed to fists on the table.
It hurt, why was it that people around him always die? Just as he thought that he became a second chance...
he was just pitiful.
Harry allowed himself to mourn.
| 1 |
Harry walked with a firmness he didn't feel, with grace he didn't like; the lessons of Fukagu echoing in his head.
Never show weakness.
Remain always strong.
Harry scowled, pride, always pride, had the Uchiha head never realized just how thin the line between pride and arrogance is? He long ago abandoned arrogance, should he do the same to his pride?
The academy ended and Harry was, once again, plagued by thought about what he should do. Sounded crazy, but now, with the Uchiha clan dead (and didn't that still hurt to realize?), he had a lot more options. He could even completely stop his education in the shinobi-art, it would lead to a lot of protests, but he could just leave Konoha, couldn't he? He had here nothing that binds him.
Only the mystery of Itachi. Remaining here wouldn't lead him to a solution but leaving will neither.
Find some nice, peaceful place to stay, far away from conflicts and trouble and death. He looked up at the sky, squinting at the sun. Could he just really leave behind a troublesome life?
No, he couldn't. That wasn't him. His head fell with a soft sigh, could he really live as an assassin? Fight? He fought his whole life, it wasn't anything new, but to that extreme. How could he just take an human life? Who was he -were they to judge who should live and who not?
He clenched and unclenched his hands, of course, he knew that sometimes there was no other way as to kill.
but to kill because someone ordered you?
Harry blinked, he could become a medic. Saving lives, mending wounds, giving hope. A deep breath escaped him jut short of a scoff. That wasn't him. Besides, even if he wanted to, he didn't believe that he had the mental capacity to be a medic. Sure, with him having the mind of an adult, he had a much better understanding than a child, but that would be rendered in some years useless.
Surely, Sasuke Uchiha was an genius, he of course noticed how things came easily to him, it wasn't like his life as a wizard, were magic came easily to him. No, here it wasn't only chakra (the equivalent of magic in this world) that came easily to him, it was also the theories, memorization, noticing, understanding came so much easier.
He, of course, noticed the differences in his personality. Slight they were, but they were there. Harry pretty much got it that he somehow reincarnated as Uchiha Sasuke, but didn't memories get lost when you were reborn? Was he Sasuke with the memories of Harry Potter or was he Harry in the body of Uchiha Sasuke?
He huffed, always the freak. Not even dying he could do the normal way.
A muffled cry of pain, followed by bright laughter filled his ears and he was jerked out of his day dreams. He came to a halt besides a playground, watching from the sidelines a very familiar situation. Long lost memories played before his eyes, it was a wonder that Dudley managed to change, or rather, how much he changed.
"Hokage?" A voice questioned disbelieving. "You?! You couldn't even find your way out of a kunai pouch!" The boy mocked, glaring down at the covering, dirty form of a smaller boy. Other children were scattered around him, watching the slumped figure with disdainful eyes.
Harry blinked, a little amused that the boy chose to reply seriously like that and he even sounded so absolutely determined. He blinked as the boy uncovered himself from his position.
"I make you all wrong!" He shouted and Harry frowned at the familiarity of that voice. "I will become Hokage and then you will all gro..gorw-...growl...grvle." The blonde frowned in concentration, trying to speak the word and Harry wasn't sure if he couldn't pronounce the word or just forgot how to pronounce it. "Bow!" He yelled out frustrated. "You will all bow for sorry-ness!
The formers wizards amusement faded as the boy was kicked hard and fell to his knees. He looked around and noticed that none of the adults interfered, no, they purposely ignored them. He sighed tiredly but his eyes were determined.
"Hey, " he spoke up before the other could again kick the boy. "Isn't that unfair? Five against one?" Harry asked into the round, stepping up to them and their eyes swiveled to his person.
"Piss off, none of your business." The group leader spoke, straightening to his full height that was half a head higher than Harry's. He couldn't suppress the amused scoff at the notion, getting threatened by a little brat.
"But I think it is," He began, not in the slightest deterred. "You see, that is a classmate of my," Harry now remembered, Uzumaki Naruto, the loud, energetic boy. "So I insist on making it my business." He spoke smoothly. "My father, Uchiha Fukagu, always told me to look after my friends." He blatantly lied, the mentioned man never told him that and he didn't even really knew the other boy. A short grimace of distaste fluttered across his face when he noticed that he sounded like Malfoy, may he never utter such words again.
The name had the effect, even they, the little brats that they were, knew of the Uchiha clan. He smiled a shark-like smile at them and they paled dramatically as they noticed who they had before them.
"Fine!" They boy spatted. "We are going." With that the group ran of, leaving the Uchiha alone with the blond.
Was he also once like that? He thought to himself, pinching his nose.
"You alright?" Harry turned to the smaller boy, the prankster of the village. He did applaud him silently more than once for his mischief, maybe, if Harry had more spirit left, he would have joined the boy but alas he just didn't feel for pranks.
The boy starred him with a surprising amount of mistrust, really, if Harry was truthful, he looked absolutely pitiful. If Molly was here she would have already cuddled him to dead.
"Hey. Alright?" He asked more forcefully, crouching a bit down to take a better look at the other and the injuries he sustained.
"..yeah." Naruto answered uncharacteristic quietly but didn't move. The former wizard suppressed a sigh and stretched out a hand and the blonde eye's widened at the gesture, starring astonished at the offered limp.
Harry's patience was at an end.
"You going to take it or not?" He questioned. "Moron," he couldn't help but murmur.
"I'm no idiot, you, you" Naruto searched for a word. "Bastard!" He called. So simpleminded, Harry thought, an insult was enough to aggravate him.
"Prove me wrong," the Uchiha challenged, raising a brow. Naruto glared at him, then turned to the still offered limp, glared at it, then, took it, clasping it strongly and getting pulled up by the taller boy.
"Uchiha Sasuke" Harry introduced, still holding the hand and not really knowing why he introduced himself.
"Uzumaki Naruto" Starring thoughtfully at the hands, then, grinned up to Harry. "The next Hokage, dattebayo!"
| Chapter One End |