"You're grinning like a weasel that just raided the henhouse," Uchiha Shisui's voice drifted over, laced with snowflakes. His eyes kept flicking to every shadow on the street corner—even the stray cat digging through snow didn't escape his scan—but his tone had this weird little lilt to it.
"It's just babysitting two little brothers. Gotta be that happy about it?"
Itachi didn't answer. He just glued his gaze back onto Makoto and Sasuke.
Snowflakes landed on his lashes, cold as ice chips, but he wouldn't blink for the world.
Hands down, this was the mission he'd been dying to run.
With Shisui right there, he could keep both little brothers in sight 24/7. Heck, he'd do it for free. No—scratch that—he'd pay to do it. Throw his life on the line? Sign him up.
Down on the street, Makoto must've felt the stare. He suddenly glanced up toward the rooftop shadows, spinning a fresh-bought dango skewer between his fingers, lips curling into a sly little smirk.
Itachi's heart skipped a beat. He instinctively shrank deeper into the dark, snow sliding off the roof tiles and slipping down the back of his neck—brrr.
"Caught by Makoto, huh, Itachi?" Shisui chuckled under his breath, elbowing him just hard enough to sting. "We weren't even hiding that hard. Most shinobi wouldn't spot us. A three-and-a-half-year-old pulls it off? Kid's got more talent than the two of us combined."
Shisui's eyes turned serious. "Send him to ANBU or Root young, train him right—he'll blow past both of us easy."
Itachi rolled his eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn't fall out. If he didn't know Shisui inside and out, he'd think the guy was trying to get Makoto killed.
After this whole thing, Itachi had to admit—Mako was right. Shisui really was too trusting. Guy barely had a suspicious bone in his body when it came to the village.
Itachi's eyes were working overtime, darting like wind-up toys: one second on Sasuke, who nearly stepped into an icy pothole; the next on Makoto, chatting up the military police patrol.
He legit wished he could slice himself in half—one Itachi per brother. Two eyes just weren't cutting it.
Snow fell thicker, hissing against the roof tiles, painting Konoha white. Even the Hokage Mountain got fuzzy around the edges.
Itachi's fingers absent-mindedly chipped at the ice on the eaves, crumbs tumbling down, but his mouth kept sneaking into a grin—knocking snowflakes out of his hair.
Down below, Makoto wandered the streets and alleys. Passing a small grove, he slowed, giving it a couple extra glances. His breath puffed out in white clouds that gathered and vanished.
The grove was quieter than the rest of the village. Snow fell softer, almost suspicious.
Outside, kids screamed and chucked snowballs hard enough to rattle rooftops. Inside the grove? Just one little blond kid crouched in the corner, all alone, building a snowman.
The kid's spiky blond hair stuck up defiantly, dusted with snow like someone sprinkled sugar on it. Sky-blue eyes—clear as melted snow—held a loneliness that wouldn't thaw, like a marble left forgotten on a windowsill.
Six whisker marks dotted his chubby cheeks.
The snowman was a hot mess—head way too big, ready to topple. Nose? A random gray rock.
A bigger kid jogged past, deliberately kicked the snowman—"CRUNCH"—and it collapsed into slush.
The blond looked up, didn't say a word, didn't cry. Just pursed his lips, crouched back down, and started rebuilding. Snow on his lashes melted and fell like hidden tears.
Makoto watched from across the way. A faint golden virtual panel—visible only to him—flickered.
Over the past six months, Naruto World Online and the Mission Template had dropped a handful of quests. None he could finish yet.
Good thing: no time limits, no penalties. Some rewards were insanely good—especially the one tied to the little blond.
Quest: Strip or seal the Asura chakra will inside Uzumaki Naruto, freeing him from Asura's influence.
Reward: Sage Body
Jackpot reward. Problem? Way above his pay grade right now.
The Player Shop had items that could straight-up rip out, seal, or even refine Asura's chakra—but the price tags? Ouch.
Makoto clicked his tongue. Getting out of Konoha to grind cash was looking better by the minute. At his age and strength, making bank in the village was painfully slow.
He stared at Naruto, still stacking snow alone. Snowflakes melted on Makoto's lashes, rolling down like tiny pearls. Curiosity itched like cat claws in his chest.
Without Asura's chakra meddling—after the whole village gaslit the kid—what would Naruto do once he woke up and saw?
Snow settled in Makoto's hair. His breath fogged the air. That curious seed sprouted, itching to grow.
Just thinking about wiping Asura's will clean and watching what this kid became? Come on already.
Sasuke, tailing behind, saw Makoto staring at the grove and puffed his cheeks like a blowfish.
He clenched his fists—knuckles white, hot breath leaking between fingers with a jealous tang.
He started forward—I'm his brother!—but his eyes snagged on the blond and… paused.
Something soft bumped his heart. Not pain. Just… ticklish.
Like spotting the tri-color dango Makoto hid. No relation to him, but he couldn't stop stealing glances.
"You playing snowman or what? Standing there like a statue," Sasuke grumbled, sidling up. He ground his toe into the snow, splattering frost on his pants. "Freeze solid and I ain't saving you."
"Beat my shadow clone first, then talk rescue," Makoto shot back, grinning.
Sasuke huffed, fuming. A second later he tugged Makoto's sleeve, trying to sound casual. "Why're you staring at him? We could go play."
Makoto glanced at Sasuke—kid's eyes were practically sparkling with want—and laughed. Classic besties from the original story.
If either of them were a girl, Sakura and Hinata would be yesterday's news.
Sasuke usually stuck to him and Itachi like glue, ice-cold to other kids. Never once said "let's go play."
Letting Sasuke hang with Naruto could free Makoto up. As for the Uchiha rule about staying away from the Nine-Tails jinchuriki?
Pfft. Who cares about a three-year-old? Besides, in the original timeline they started school together at six.
Even if someone did care—Mako had spent the last six months collecting skin samples from every Uchiha who'd been kind to him.
If Sasuke ever bit it, once Makoto unlocked the Rinnegan? Resurrection city. Easy.
Heck, if the family dog Floppy kicked the bucket, Makoto would burn a Rinne Rebirth just for the pup. Revival Coins for days.
With that, Makoto patted Sasuke's back—light, but enough to stumble him forward two steps, snow puffing underfoot.
"Go tell him snowmen aren't built like that. Teach him."
Sasuke froze, whipping around to Naruto—just as the kid tried jamming a giant snowball head onto the body and half of it collapsed.
He whipped back to Makoto, face screaming no way, but his eyes kept sneaking peeks.
"I'm not playing with him!" The words tumbled out, but even Sasuke heard the wobble. He swallowed.
Makoto grinned. "Befriend him and you'll get a huge power-up down the line."
Sasuke narrowed his eyes, stepping back. "You trying to trick me again?"
Six months of getting pranked had given him PTSD. Makoto ruffled his hair, fingers brushing black strands.
"Nah, legit. This power-up? One day you'll smoke old man Sarutobi."
"For real, Makoto?!" Sasuke's eyes lit up like fireworks.
Makoto tapped his forehead. "Take it or leave it."
"What do I gotta do?" Sasuke scooted closer, practically vibrating. "I need to get stronger…"
"See? Always rushing," Makoto said, holding his shoulders. "Start with the snowman."
Sasuke huffed, turning away with a dramatic hmph. "Fine, whatever!"
But his feet? Already shuffling toward Naruto.
Not 'cause I wanna play. Just for the power-up… Sasuke muttered to himself, dragging his tool pouch through the snow, leaving a wobbly trail.
That power-up? Simple: the second the Uchiha clan's moon-jailed legendary beauty shows signs of breaking out, and both Naruto and Sasuke die—the Sage of Six Paths might just pop out and hand these two the ultimate cheat codes.