Your Lies | Itachi Uchiha x Reader

Chapter 10

I furiously knocked on Chōjūrō's door, needing something—anything—to distract me. "Ugh, open up, Chōjūrō!" I yelled, still pounding with one hand while my left eye twitched in frustration.

The door opened, but instead of him, I was greeted by his mother.

"Oh, Y/n. What brings you here?" she asked with a bright, welcoming smile.

Chōjūrō's mom shared his blue hair, but she was much prettier—and honestly, she looked so young that before I officially met her, I thought she was his older sister.

"I—I'm so sorry for banging on your door, Mrs. Hirahara. I didn't know you'd be the one to open it..." I bowed deeply, half-apology, half-respect.

She waved it off. "It's alright. At least you're... lively. Can't say the same for my son."

By lively, she probably meant loud. Still, her tone was warm.

"Anyway, you came to see him, didn't you?"

"Yes."

"Well, Chōjūrō's currently in a meeting with the Mizukage. He's busy for now, but I'll let him know you stopped by."

My heart sank a little. Another secret meeting I wasn't allowed to attend. Another person I couldn't bother. "Oh... okay. Thank you, Mrs. Hirahara," I sighed and turned to leave.

"Wait!" she called, hurrying back inside. "I don't feel right sending you away empty-handed."

She returned moments later with a small brown bag. "Here—fresh dorayaki. I make these every day for Chōjūrō. Lucky for you, I just finished a batch."

"Thank you," I smiled, bowing again.

As I walked away, I waved at her. She was such a sweet woman, always tinkering in the kitchen with some new recipe. The scent of warm dorayaki filled the air, making my mouth water. I told myself I wasn't going to eat sweets today—but how could I resist?

Especially knowing she'd probably put a unique twist on it. She always did.

I sniffed the bag. Smelled normal.

Then I opened it and blinked. "Huh?"

The pancakes were darker than usual—almost a rich, deep brown. "Did... did she burn these?" I asked out loud, holding one at arm's length.

But it didn't smell burnt.

I brought it closer, hesitantly sniffing again. "Wait... is that chocolate?"

I sniffed harder. "Cocoa powder in the batter?"

I wasn't sure if I should take a bite. Still, I carefully tore off a small piece, making sure to get some of the filling too. I held the bite on my tongue, debating if I should chew or just swallow it whole.

I went for it. Swallowed it fast.

And then—nothing bad happened.

"It's not burnt!" I exclaimed, wiping imaginary sweat from my brow.

Then the flavor kicked in. "It is chocolate!"

The pancakes weren't too sweet, but sweeter than usual—balanced perfectly with a subtle bitterness from the cocoa. Made sense. Cocoa always needed extra sugar to even it out.

The filling was... interesting. A mix of vanilla and red bean cream. Light, airy—not too heavy like frosting. The combination was strange at first, but it worked.

Honestly? It was delicious. Better than I'd expected. Mrs. Hirahara's usual kitchen experiments could be hit-or-miss, but this one? This one landed.

Still, nothing beats a classic dorayaki. I'm a traditionalist at heart.

While savoring the last bite, I looked around—and froze.

Without realizing it, my feet had brought me somewhere I wasn't supposed to be.

The forest bridge.

It stood right in front of me. The one that connected our village to the world beyond. There were no guards.

I stared into the trees, feeling a familiar pull. A need to run. To be free. To explore.

This opportunity wouldn't come again. Not for months—maybe longer.

If I didn't take it now... I might never get the chance.

I stood on the village side of the bridge, dorayaki still in hand, contemplating.

Then, slowly, my feet moved.

Halfway across, I stopped. My body moved like it knew what I wanted. But my rational mind fought back.

The village is already at risk, Y/n! Your sister is dealing with the Six-Tails' Jinchūriki—don't make it worse. She'll have to send shinobi to find you. You'll become a liability. She's the Mizukage. Don't give her another problem to deal with.

That voice sounded like an older version of me—maybe in my thirties. Stern, tired, logical.

Then, another voice argued:

This is your only chance. Would you rather die caged or live free? Your mother won't train you. But if you explore the world, you might find other ice users. You could finally reach your full potential!

Then the logical side asked, What about Han?

That stopped me cold.

I looked at my hands. I was in control again. Fully present.

I turned toward the forest... but I didn't move.

I couldn't do it.

This was the perfect moment—no eyes watching, no guards, no obstacles.

But I chose to turn back.

I walked home, not daring to look back at the trees.

I was proud of myself for resisting—for choosing responsibility over impulse.

But I also knew... next time, I might not.

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