❝ I wanna go home. please let me go home. ❞
[y/n] didn't ask to be launched into a whole new universe where quirks defined your future instead of chakra and heroes took place instead of shinobi.
especially not after the fourth shinobi war.
male rea...
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⌜ ⌝
trauma - chapter thirty-two
⌞ ⌟
[y/n] felt so lost.
His appearance was in shambles as he unnoticeably wandered the streets of Japan, taking on the form of the second hokage. He knew of the search party that was out for him, but the heir didn't want to be found.
So he just wandered, wandered everywhere and anywhere without rest. He honestly could not remember the last time he slept, but- god he wanted to.
Every time he closed his eyes he imagined them. Their warmth, their voices, their bickering that he adored so much. Yet, knowing that he was so close to that but it just barely slipped out of his grasp hurt him. It ripped every fiber of his being apart as his mind replayed that moment where they connected over and over again.
Like a vinyl on repeat without pause.
It was like a dead person was walking through the streets, his eyes soulless and his slouched figure stumbled through crowds of people. It was unlike any image [y/n] had portrayed before, but under the disguise of Tobirama he was not bothered.
"Excuse me."
The words slipped out of someone's mouth softly, [y/n] unable to ignore it.
"You dropped this."
He turned slowly and when he made eye contact the heir could feel his breath get caught in his throat.
Dark hair framed the male's face as his black eyes stared unnervingly at [y/n]. A familiar face that he would have leaped through the heavens to see again, one that was taken away from him before he knew it.
"Itachi?"
The name slipped from his mouth, his voice full of hope yet he knew that the person in front of him was not the one he had known.
An eyebrow raised briefly as the guy showed zero recognition to the name.
"?"
A hopeless look flashed across Tobirama's face and [y/n] dove back into the pit of despair he was in before.
The male seem to notice this and took on a hesitant stature. He seemed to mutter to himself before giving a short sigh and reaching his hand out with the item.
[y/n] was reminded of when he would extend his hand to the former.
"Omamori's are good luck. You should keep it close to you tightly." His words were soft as he looked up and down at [y/n]'s disheveled appearance. The jonin's fingers trembled slightly as he grabbed the item. The very same one his father gave, the one that Aizawa and now Itachi, returned to him.
