The Case-Book of Kakashi Hatake

The Hound of the Uchiha {Part 9}

Hatake, Uchiha, and I sat in silence for several minutes as the early morning sun streamed into the kitchen. The almost lighthearted way that I had been approaching the case before last night seemed like a distant memory; the looming specter of Danzo seeming to choke out the air from the room.

Fooling Uchiha's neighbors had almost felt like a game.

I could not help but wonder if any of my old ANBU squad had been associated with Danzo. I might have worked alongside members of this mysterious Root without ever being the wiser! What about my captain? He had been a cut above the rest; was he a product of Danzo's training?

I had always thought that his eyes were so kind, so soulful. It was a shame that I likely could not recognize them now. Just like everyone else from my old life, from when faces were what I remembered most about a person.

Shaking my head, I stopped the train of thought in its tracks. I would not give my moping even an inch. What was done was done; there were some things that I was never going to get back.

Suddenly, Hatake stood, sighing as he twisted his back and stretched, left arm held across his body in a sling, probably working out the stiffness from sleeping on a cave floor.

"May I get a tour of the house?" he asked, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

Uchiha glanced up at him, "My butler Jugo can be fetched for such a purpose, yes."

"If I had wanted your butler to give me a tour, I would have asked him." He tapped his fingers against his cheek with a little grin, "In fact, I would like to start with Itachi's rooms, if his things are still there."

"His effects remain exactly where he left them, and I would prefer if you did not go pawing through my brother's memory."

"I do not 'paw,'" Hatake corrected, "I snoop. Now, lead the way, Sasuke."

A stream of incoherent, angry grumbling left the young lord's mouth, but he trudged upstairs all the same. Hatake, without a word, slipped his good arm under my shoulders as we walked up the staircase, alleviating some of the pressure on my damaged feet.

We passed through the narrow halls with their old-fashioned décor until he stopped in front a door on the second floor indistinguishable from the others.

There were several overly-long seconds as the three of us just stood there, in silence, until Hatake cleared his throat.

"Is it locked?"

With a long-suffering look, Uchiha pulled a key from his pocket and turned it in the door. "Not even Karin has been allowed in here to clean since my brother died. Everything is exactly how he left it."

"Perfect," Hatake whispered while placing his right hand on Uchiha's shoulder, holding the young man back as he tried to enter. "Wait in the hallway."

The young lord's chest puffed out in indignation. "I will not barred from my brother's quarters! This is my house."

But Hatake was not listening. Crouching on the balls of his feet, he stared at the floor.

This was the first room of several, a private sitting room containing a bookshelf, fireplace, several chairs and desk with several ajar doors leading to other chambers, likely including a bedroom. The floor was a dust-covered hardwood with a large, intricately patterned burgundy rug at the center.

Having finished his contemplation of the dust on the floorboards, Hatake picked his way across the room with care, practically walking on his toes, to the window behind the desk. Stirring a large cloud of dust, he pulled aside the heavy curtains and the morning sun streamed in, catching the floating particulates dancing in the air. He then pulled a tape measure from a waistcoat pocket and began measuring seemingly random spots on the floor. No, I realized, they must be footprints of some kind. Something, or someone, had disturbed the dust.