Death's Angel {Naruto FanFic}

Chapter Eight

I slide my eyes open tiredly. A great warmth is snuggled against my back, calm and relaxing. I feel at peace. It takes me a few minutes to actually realize that I am snuggled against a person, my source of warmth, and that I am still clad solely in my undergarments and Itachi's cloak. A blush fights its way to my cheeks as I stare at the door. The person -Itachi- who is behind me chuckles and seems to pull me closer. 

My blush fades swiftly as I close my eyes again, slipping into a slumber for a while longer. 

Haru is crying. What do I do? I've never had to comfort a crying child before! I am panicked as I hold four year old Haru close to me, rocking him gently on my hip. "There, there, little brother." I say as smoothly and softly as I can. Haru's cries pause for a few minutes before he wails again. "H-Haru!" I am not meant for this. Other eleven year olds are at the Academy, but I am at home today with no one to help me. I fear that Haru is sick. 

I rock him gently as he blubbers. The clan has been gone for two weeks now, and Haru has yet to learn that his cries for Mother and Father will not be heard, and I am the only one left. He sobs into my shirt again, and tears prick at my eyes. Suddenly my eyes widen. "Haru-kun, I have something for you." I place him gently on his bed and take my mask off. His eyes widen dramatically and he reaches for me. 

"Chisi-chan!" He cries. I smile gently at him. 

"Chishi, Haru-kun. Say Chi-shi." Haru attempts to say my name. I smile at him constantly. How much longer can I pretend to retain emotions? 

"Chisi, wake up..." 

"Haru? I told you to say Chishi. Chisi isn't my name, sweetie." A chuckle sounds. I groan. I feel as if I am at home, and Haru is nestled into my side like he always does whenever he has nightmares. I move to pull him closer before that unusual scent hits my nose. Clean earth and air...

I groan again and sigh quietly. My body protests, but I sit up eventually and manage to rub sleep from my bleary eyes. "Ah, Itachi. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to fall asleep." He laughs, lounging behind me as if we are the closest friends in the world, and we've been relaxing. He acts as if this is a common occurence. Maybe it is, for him. 

I give him a weak smile and slump as I sit. I'm too tired to pretend not to be human. I'm also a bit embarrassed, and slightly suspicious. My clothes are still missing, and I wind the cloak around me tighter. A breeze whispers past my legs, smooth and soft, but slightly alarming. My cloak, no, Itachi's cloak, is up at mid-thigh instead of brushing my toes. I stare at the area of my calves down. There are a criss-cross of different scars. The same run up my arms to my shoulders. I look away. 

"What are your scars from?" He asks, his voice quiet and gentle. I look at the ground. 

"That is a story for another day, Itachi." I say. "I think it might be best for me to dress." Itachi gives me that gentle nod of his, and I feel guilty. He is almost always gentle with me, unlike how he is with everyone else. I don't understand it. He's like the guardian I never had, the one who seems to look out for me. I almost don't notice him coming back into the room with my clothes in hand. 

"Thank you." I say, taking them from him and slipping into the bathroom. I reluctantly shed his cloak, and put my shirt and pants back on. My skin is exposed. I put my jacket on, and thank him again before going back to the room. 

My room isn't much different from Itachi's. I throw my jacket onto my bed and enter the bathroom, my hands searching desperately for my rolls of bandages. I find them, and with great urgency, wind them up from my feet up to my knees, and from the shoulders down to the base of my fingers. Relief floods through me as I find my scars covered up, but I frown. I am missing something, and I notice it instantly as I look into the mirror. Itachi has my mask!