Over these past months, Makoto had not held back in 'educating' Itachi.
Just as he had initially predicted, trying to completely brainwash Itachi was as difficult as scaling the heavens! The effort required was far greater than simply finding an opportunity to pluck out Itachi's eyeballs.
Makoto had even tried circular arguments like 'the ultimate form of the Will of Fire is the deep bond between brothers', only to be countered by Itachi's statement, 'The village's interests are above all else.'
But it wasn't a complete loss. Now, guiding Itachi to handle some 'minor tasks' was as easy as flipping his own hand.
Makoto had largely deciphered Itachi's thought process: as long as he tightly bound 'performing missions' and 'contributing to the village' together with the 'Will of Fire', and occasionally added phrases like 'Sasuke will be proud of you if you do more missions'…
He could make Itachi spin like a tightly wound top, truly deserving to be called a nuclear-powered workhorse.
As for the money earned from missions, Makoto didn't even need to mention it anymore. Itachi would quite consciously lend it to him on time, without any reminders.
He worked diligently every day, putting in overtime to earn money for Makoto.
Itachi stood under the porch, watching his younger brothers playing in the snow.
The morning frost settled on his shoulders, but he remained completely unaware.
Sasuke was being chased all over the yard by three of Makoto's shadow clones, his small feet making soft 'thump' sounds in the snow, even shouting:
"Just wait until I awaken my Sharingan and learn Ninjutsu! I'll definitely make you all cry with fire!"
Makoto leaned against the vermilion pillar, laughing, while Shiro struggled in his arms, wanting to join the fun.
Seeing this scene, the fatigue from long hours of high-intensity missions seemed to be mostly swept away by the wind and snow, leaving only a warmth in his heart, as if he were carrying a small stove.
"Nii-san!" Seeing Itachi, Sasuke suddenly jumped three feet high from the snow, not even bothering to brush off the snow on himself, pointing a finger towards Makoto's main body.
"Makoto is using shadow clones to bully me! Teach me the Shadow Clone Technique too!"
Makoto lifted his chin towards Itachi. Shiro in his arms also tilted its head, as if in greeting.
The snow continued to fall. Sunlight streamed through the gaps in the clouds, casting a golden outline around the three of them.
Their shadows overlapped in the yard, finally converging on the large Uchiha Clan's fan emblem on the wall, the blood-red pattern shimmered in the snowy light, as beautiful as a painting, yet carrying an indescribable sharpness.
Itachi, who had just pulled an all-nighter on a mission, loosened his grip on the doorknob.
His knuckles were white, the strap of his tool pouch frayed. He should have pushed the door open, thrown himself onto the bedding, and let exhaustion wash over his entire body.
But after looking at the figures laughing together in the snow for a moment, Itachi turned and walked back towards the Hokage Tower to accept another mission.
He wanted the light in their eyes when they mentioned 'Nii-san' to be brighter than the sun on the Hokage Rock!
Itachi's figure was soon swallowed by the wind and snow, leaving behind a trail of footprints of varying depths.
The deepest one was stepped on ice, its edges coated with a thin frost, soon covered by fresh snow, as if it had never existed.
Watching Itachi's departing figure, Makoto seemed lost in thought.
…
The accumulated snow in front of the Hokage Tower had already reached past the ankles. Stepping on it produced a crunching sound, like chewing frozen beans.
Because his entire team had been slaughtered by Uchiha Obito, leaving only himself, Itachi often joined other shinobi squads for missions.
Despite being only eight or nine years old, Itachi was very powerful and exceptionally reliable, making him highly sought after by other shinobi squads.
Moreover, due to his young age, he was well taken care of by other teams, since the vast majority of children Itachi's age hadn't even graduated from the Academy yet.
"Itachi."
Just as he was about to meet up with the Shinobi Team for the mission, a familiar voice called out to him.
This familiar voice had often spoken to him alone over the past months, the content always about the Will of Fire. Itachi never found it the slightest bit tedious.
Hiruzen stood on top of the Hokage Tower, the rim of his hat adorned with icicles. The white smoke from his pipe mingled with the snow mist, swirling around his wrinkled face.
He removed his hat, revealing the eyes hidden beneath his relaxed eyelids, gentle like spring snow melting.
"Come up."
Hearing this, Itachi quickly climbed the stairs, standing straight as a ramrod, like a young pine tree bent by snow but refusing to break, his spine so taut it seemed it could produce a sound if struck.
Hiruzen tapped his pipe, the embers falling into the pure white snow as they extinguished, leaving behind small black dots, like unsprouted seeds.
"Look at this snow! Magnificent, isn't it?" Hiruzen pointed towards the vast, white village, the tobacco pipe turning twice in his palm.
Itachi gave a slight nod of agreement. Seeing this, Hiruzen continued, "No matter how heavily it falls, it will melt when spring arrives."
After this indirect approach, Hiruzen continued with his classic lines.
"But Konoha is different. As long as the Will of Fire continues to burn, it will always exist."
"Where tree leaves dance, one shall find flames," Hiruzen's voice deepened, carrying a force that seemed to penetrate the wind and snow.
"These flames are not burning for an individual or a clan, but to illuminate the path for those who come after. You, at seven years old, were able to think like a Hokage, even surpassing my own abilities back then."
Hiruzen's voice held a trace of sorrow. He placed his hand on Itachi's shoulder, the warmth passing through the thin Shinobi Uniform, carrying a strong scent of tobacco and the distinct smell of an elderly person.
"I have seen many geniuses. Some relied on their talent and became arrogant, some were blinded by hatred and fell into confusion, some even sought immortality..."
"Only you have always held the village in the warmest place in your heart. This heart is the purest Will of Fire. Konoha's future needs good children like you who can shoulder responsibility."
"When you're a bit older, this burden..." Hiruzen didn't finish, merely smiled, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes bunching up like a blooming old chrysanthemum. "Do not disappoint us, Itachi!"
Itachi listened with utmost seriousness, his black pupils reflecting the old man's figure, as if it were some unquestionable faith. Even his breathing became lighter. This was the 'strongest' Hokage in Konoha's history.
Looking at Itachi's figure, Hiruzen nodded inwardly, 'The 'ideological work' over the past months had not been in vain. I just needed to apply more effort to make him understand the Will of Fire more deeply.'
'To make Itachi dedicate his entire life to selfless contribution for the Will of Fire.'
Hiruzen shifted the topic, his tone lighter, as if making casual conversation: "Speaking of which, it's been a long time since I've seen that younger brother of yours."
"The one who was scribbling all over the Hokage Rock over half a year ago. Has he caused any trouble lately?"
Hearing this, Itachi's eyelashes fluttered, like butterfly wings stirred by the wind: "He reads books at home all day."
"Oh?" Hiruzen seemed somewhat puzzled. "That child doesn't seem like the type to read books quietly and steadily. How is his talent?"
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FOR EVERY 50 POWER STONES, I'LL UPLOAD ONE CHAPTER