Itachi watches from the shaded walkway surrounding the courtyard as Miyu teaches her class of four-year-olds.

  The class have been given tall paper hats shaped like shogi pieces, and are standing on a large, chequered straw mat, playing out a simple game.

  “Kaneki-kun,” Miyu’s voice is loud and rings clear, “what are you?”

  “I’m a knight sensei,” replies a boy wearing thickly framed glasses. He’s painfully cute.

  “Can you tell me where you can move as a knight?” Miyu’s smiling at the child, who blushes furiously before nodding.

  “Two squares forward, and either one to the left or one to the right.”

  “Well done,” Miyu claps and the other children join in. “What about you, Aiko-chan? What’s your piece, and where can you go?”

  “I’m a bishop,” a little girl with a gap tooth says. Her lisp makes Itachi feel the need to clutch at his chest and try not to die from an overabundance of adorable. “I can go that way and that way all the way!”

  She’s gesturing with her arms along the diagonals.

  “Very good,” Miyu is trying very hard not to smile any wider than she already is. Her lips are trembling with the effort.

  In the privacy of the shadows, Itachi lets his own smile stretch into being at the scene.

  Miyu turns to a few other children, dangling earrings catching in the light. Sasuke had taken her only the day before to get her ears pierced, and the tiny origami cranes that hang at the end of the thin silver attachment are navy, with miniature red and silver camellias printed onto the paper.

  They suit her.

  Itachi had spent half an hour this morning at the markets, picking out a few different earring designs he thinks she might like. He’s sure that his actions would have added further fuel to the fire that is the rumour mill if he wasn’t henged into a spotty-faced, gangly, teenaged boy.

  A slight flare of chakra gets his attention, and he lets himself look towards the courtyard’s side entrance, where the guard rotation is changing. He flares his own chakra in a standard greeting, and the team of three stationed at different points throughout the compound greet him in code.

  He hopes none of them spread news of his visit, and then winces as he thinks about the statistics of it. If there are three team members, two are guaranteed gossips off the bat.

  The class ends and the children disperse after helping Miyu gather the mat and hats.

  “Afternoon,” he greets as Miyu is making her way to the storeroom which he is conveniently standing in front of.

  “Oh,” she makes to smile, and then stops herself, glancing to the small crowd of parents that stand at the gates not too far to pick up their children. “Good afternoon.”

  Itachi takes the rolled up straw mat and the basket filled with carefully arranged hats and places them neatly inside the storeroom. Miyu has busied herself writing notes in a lesson planner.

  He realises abruptly that his eyesight must be improving, because he can just make out the artful tilt of her handwriting, the words – complete. Comprehension acceptable, basic openings next week –

  Before he looks away, busying himself with shutting the storeroom door.

  “Care for tea?” He asks, not offering her his arm despite his burning want.

  She shuts the book and tucks the pen away before nodding with a polite smile.

  They draw many stares as they exit the compound together, and Itachi blatantly ignores the mild traffic on the rooftop routes as ninja just about run into each other trying to catch a glimpse of he and Miyu walking alongside one another.

  There’s a careful half metre left between them. The back of his hand is tingling with the urge to brush against hers. He ignores that, too.

  They go to tea and he orders dango, and they maintain their intentional distance the entire time. Itachi is hyper-aware of being observed, and though Miyu doesn’t act uncomfortable or distressed in the least he’s sure she picks up on it.

  The dreaded ‘sama’ is tacked onto his name, so she must.

  Miyu only ever calls him Itachi now. Just Itachi, no attachments. It’s liberating.

  He absently wonders how many crows Chikako will need to monitor the gossip, or whether she will bribe the local bird population into aiding her. Belatedly, he realises Shisui is going to be an extra pain in his ass for all the damage control he’s going to have to coordinate after this impromptu tea date.

  “How have you been feeling today?” Miyu inquires over her strawberry mochi.

  Itachi sighs, and murmurs, “Bored, to be honest with you.”

  She hides a smile behind her teacup, and he admires the light flush to her cheeks. It’s still cold out – and if the way Miyu is cradling her cup between her hands is any indication, she’s definitely feeling it.

  He half reaches across the table to capture one of her hands in his and initiate breath of fire, but abruptly he remembers where they are, and has to abort halfway. He turns his reach for her into a reach for his dango, and swallows it down with his disappointment.

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  Gods, what was he thinking, bringing her here and expecting to make things work?

  “Itachi-sama?”

  He snaps back to attention. Watches Miyu’s face carefully.

  She’s looking at him like she knows what he’s thinking – and she probably does. In the panes of her face he reads amusement, empathy, and – understanding.

  “I get it,” she murmurs, head cocked to the side. Her new earrings sway with the movement, and for a moment he’s captivated by them. They draw his gaze from her delicate ears to the pale line of her neck, where he can see her pulse thrumming with his steadily-improving eyesight.

  He wants, so badly, to press his lips to her neck. Feel her heart beating, know the life in her veins and –

  He tears himself away from that train of thought and berates himself. He’s managed to do so well today, too. He hadn’t even thought about what she tastes like once – oh, damn it.

  Itachi resigns himself to daydreaming about the woman before him, an alternate reality where his clan status is of no consequence and they can just be.

  .

  “It-a-chi!”

  Supressing a weary sigh, Itachi lets his gaze settle on Shisui, who seems to have gained the attention of everyone else in the meeting room. By everyone else, it’s just about the entire office force with the exception of their rotating patrol and reception roster.

  “Yes,” he responds flatly, ignoring the many pairs of dark eyes lingering on their exchange.

  “Someone special is here to see you,” Shisui sing-songs, but it’s not quite loud enough for the entire room to hear. Those along the edges of the boardroom ‘subtly’ shift in closer.

  Deciding not to ask, Itachi just raises a brow.

  Shisui, shit-eating grin in place, points to the door and says, “Out there.”

  Withholding another sigh, Itachi files out and makes for –

  He spots her and has to stop himself from flash-stepping to her side. She’s staring absently at their pin board, which is definitely classified information, but Itachi doesn’t particularly care. It should be better hidden.

  “Miyu,” he almost adds the suffix to her name.

  “Oh – Itachi-sama,” she blinks out of her daze and smiles at him. “I brought you this.”

  She holds out a package wrapped neatly in chequered blue and white cloth, and he has to exert solid effort into not clutching at his chest.

  “You… made me lunch?” his voice is low, and he’s aware of a few chakra signatures sneaking out of the meeting room on the far side of the office behind him.

  “Yes,” she pushes it in to his hands, and he can read confusion in the slight quirk of her brows.

  She’s made him lunch many times, and he, her.

  But this – preparing it, packing it, wrapping it up – it’s –

  “Aw, Miyu-chan,” Shisui appears with only the slightest disruption of air. Itachi refrains from reflexively flicking a handful of shiruken at his face. “You didn’t make one for me?”

  “Shisui-san,” she doesn’t blush under his flirty pout, “I didn’t know you were in the village, or on shift.”

  His cousin pouts harder.

  “I told ‘Tachi to tell you! Now I miss out on-”

  “I packed Itachi two,” Miyu interrupts seamlessly with a placating smile, “in case he got held up here with paperwork. I’m sure he’ll share with you if you ask.”

  Her keen brown gaze slides from Shisui to him and he feels a flare of admiration for her. So easily she shifts the dynamics of a conversation, like pieces on her shogi board.

  “Itachi can I, can I, can I, can I-”

  “If you walk away right now, I’ll give you one,” Itachi says, with no intention of doing so.

  Shisui narrows his eyes and jabs a finger at him, “You better give me that bento. I broke my arm to hang out with you on leave you-”

  “Your arm?” Miyu sounds concerned, “Oh, Shisui-san, that must have been terrible. I’m sure you’re exhausted. I’ll leave you to your work now and wish you well for the rest of your day.”

  Her eyes meet Itachi’s again.

  “Itachi-sama,” there's amusement in her tone, and he watches as her cheek twitches with the effort it's taking her to hold back her smile.

  Shisui is eyeing the bento out of the corner of his eye

  “Care to walk me out?”

  He keeps his face blank despite his mouth’s violent urge to twitch into a smile.

  They leave Shisui at the pin board as they make for the main entrance.

  Itachi ignores his shouts of –

  “Hang on – Hang on, hey - I’ve figured this out! It was right there the whole time, look!”

  And instead steps into the mid-morning sun, Miyu by his side.

  "I- I'm sorry," she says suddenly, "for coming without warning. It's just - well, I usually have a gap in my day around now and now that you're in the village, I just thought-"

  "Miyu," he knows he shouldn't smile at her here and now, where everyone is probably watching, but he doesn't want to hold himself back.

  "-I just thought you might appreciate-"

  He reaches out and captures one of her hands in his. Her mouth shuts with a soft click, and he watches as she wills away the slight flush across the bridge of her nose.

  "Thank you."

  She smiles at him, and it's not one of her proper, calm ones. It's small and a little shy, out here in the open, and he thinks it's the best thing that has happened to him today.

  When he returns to the office, he finds Tekka’s squad gathered around the pin board as Shisui explains his sudden epiphany regarding a series of break-ins the force has been investigating. Itachi uses the distraction to eat his bento – packed neatly, elegantly. There are no cutesy adornments, which he’s privately grateful for.

  The arrangement is undoubtedly Miyu’s style.

  He takes a bite of the perfectly shaped rice ball and hopes it hides his smile.

  .

  A week and a half later, Itachi enters the station to absolute chaos.

  Nara Ensui is scowling as he peers at the pin board. What seems to be half the officers on duty are crowded around him, yelling. Itachi’s father is standing beside Ensui, frowning. Nothing new.

  “- appease the spirit! It’s come to me three times now!”

  “Fuck off, Daisuke, it’s not a fucking spirit-”

  “It sure as hell is! He’s not lying I’ve seen him solve things three times, and I’ve done it twice now too, after leaving offerings-”

  “So you’re the culprit that left that fucking incense, you prick! Almost burnt the fucking station down-”

  Shisui sidles up to him and Itachi can only watch the mounting arguments with apathy. The Uchiha have always been particularly inclined to superstition.

  “Have you tried asking our helpful spirit for guidance, dear cousin?” he asks, running a hand through his curls.

  “Spirit,” Itachi intones flatly.

  “Spirit, ghost, divine godly presence, whatever you want to call it,” his cousin waves his hand lazily. “Fact is, we’re solving crimes at an unprecedented rate and our pin board seems to be the source.”

  Itachi raises a single brow. “Seriously, Shisui?”

  “Pay attention, yeah? I think one of the newbies is gonna leave an offering – I dunno if it’s a spirit or a vengeful ghost, a god or just a stroke of luck, but something is going on and the KMP are losing their freaking minds.”

  Watching the growing crowd of officers, Itachi silently agrees with at least one of Shisui’s comments.

  People are losing their minds, alright.

  Joining the few stoic officers that seem to be observing the spectacle, Itachi subtly inquires on the betting pool, because surely there has to be one by now.

  He puts ten thousand ryo on this ‘spirit’ being a person just messing with them. And then he gets started on the veritable mountain of paperwork awaiting him, but not before setting his bento box on the edge of his desk with a small, fond smile.

  Itachi decides to head home after his shift instead of going straight to Miyu’s. It's been a while since he's been there for more than a minute at a time, in full stealth mode at that.

  He knows he’s made a big mistake the moment he spots Sasuke in the kitchen, leaning stiffly against the counter.

  “What-” his voice dies in his throat as his mother steps into view. There’s a pretty, placid smile on her face that definitely doesn’t reach her eyes.

  “Itachi,” her voice is pleasant, despite her sharp gaze, “I’ve missed you, dear son.”

  Oh. Oh, he is so fucked.