Tsunagu Hakamada, better known as Fiber Hero: Best Jeanist, was patrolling the streets, always on alert for any signs of danger. Though he was still a relatively new hero, his reputation had quickly grown due to his skill and dedication. As he walked, something caught his attention—a faint noise in the distance, a sound that made his heart race. He had a sinking feeling that someone was in danger.
Breaking into a run, Best Jeanist raced toward the source of the noise. His instincts proved right when a loud gunshot echoed through the streets. His eyes widened in shock and urgency fueled his speed. He rounded a corner, and the sight before him made his blood run cold—four thugs surrounding a girl. Without hesitation, he shouted, "What's going on here?!"
The thugs, startled by his presence, panicked. They attempted to flee, but with a swift flick of his fingers, Best Jeanist unleashed his quirk, sending threads to bind them in place. However, one of the thugs had a blade quirk. He transformed his hand into a sharp weapon and slashed through the threads, making a break for it. Best Jeanist cursed under his breath but couldn't pursue him—not yet. His attention was pulled back to the scene in front of him.
As he approached the tied-up thugs, his eyes fell on a blonde girl lying on the ground. His heart dropped. There was so much blood. He rushed to her side, his stomach twisting when he saw that the bullet had hit her in the chest.
His pulse raced, panic trying to creep in, but he forced himself to stay calm. Kneeling beside her, he pressed two fingers to her neck, feeling for a pulse. Her heartbeat was weak, barely there, but it was enough to push him into action.
He quickly called for an ambulance, his voice strained with urgency. "This is an emergency. I need an ambulance at my location right now!"
Hanging up, he immediately used his threads to apply pressure to the wound, trying to stop the bleeding. The girl's breathing was shallow, each rise and fall of her chest agonizingly slow. His hands trembled slightly as he worked, desperate to keep her alive.
As he worked, he noticed a phone ringing beside her. Someone had been trying to reach her. It rang once, then stopped. A moment later, it rang again. He hesitated, but then answered, his voice steady despite the turmoil inside.
"Hello?"
Back to Yaoyorozu mansion.
As the Yaoyorozu family arrived home, Itachi walked through the mansion, his thoughts elsewhere. He had expected to see Erika, but she wasn't around. His eyes scanned the room as if hoping she'd appear any moment, but there was no sign of her. A sigh escaped his lips, and before he could dwell too long on his concerns, Momo tugged at his arm.
"Brother, let's play!" Momo's innocent, bright eyes sparkled with joy.
Itachi looked down at her, a small smile creeping onto his face. "Sure," he said gently, putting aside his worry for the moment. He couldn't help but feel warmth at the sight of her happiness. They both moved toward her toys, and Momo immediately started imagining all sorts of games they could play together.
Meanwhile, Yana, their mother, plopped down onto the sofa with a sigh of her own. She pulled out her phone, scrolling through various items and gift ideas. As her mind wandered, she chuckled softly to herself. "What should I give him?" she mused, thinking of Itachi's upcoming birthday. She remembered when he was four, how much he loved the kunai and shuriken she had gifted him. A mischievous smile crossed her face. "That settles it," she whispered, clicking through a site and ordering another set of kunai and shuriken, complete with a special gift wrap. She grinned, thinking, Tomorrow's my baby's birthday. This will be the perfect surprise.
Back in the room, Itachi and Momo continued playing. Momo suddenly looked up at him, her face full of determination. "I want to create something for you, brother," she said with a proud little smile.
Itachi chuckled softly, his heart swelling with affection. "To do that, you'll have to study hard, Momo," he replied, watching as her face lit up with excitement at the challenge.
"I will! I'll study really hard and give you a gift!" she promised, already rushing over to a nearby book and flipping it open, eager to learn.
Itachi couldn't help but smile wider. He walked over and gently tapped her on the forehead, a gesture that reminded him of his past with Sasuke. "Don't rush things. You're only four, after all," he said softly.
Momo beamed up at him, her energy unrelenting. "Okay, brother. But let's play again!"
Itachi nodded, though his mind wandered back to Erika. The sinking feeling in his chest grew heavier as the sun outside began to set. He wondered where she was—she had mentioned meeting a friend, but it was growing late. The unease he had felt earlier in the car returned.
"Momo," he said gently, "I have something I need to do. Would you mind playing with father for a while?"
Momo, always cheerful and obedient, nodded quickly. "Okay, brother!" She grabbed her toys and dashed out of the room, leaving Itachi standing alone.
His expression darkened slightly as he walked to the window, gazing out at the orange sky. In his heart, he knew something wasn't right. His mind raced, his worry for Erika intensifying with each passing second.
In the quiet of his room, Itachi pulled out his phone, the unease from earlier still gnawing at him. He dialed Erika's number, hoping to hear her voice, but each ring that went unanswered made his chest tighten. He dialed again, and this time, the call connected. Relief flooded him for a moment until he heard an unfamiliar voice on the other end.
"Hello?"
Itachi's blood ran cold. This wasn't Erika's voice. His heart pounded in his chest, his grip tightening around the phone. "Who are you? Why do you have Erika's phone?" His voice was sharp, laced with growing panic.
"Sir, listen to me carefully," the voice replied, steady but urgent. "She... Erika has been shot."
The world seemed to stop for Itachi. His breath caught in his throat, eyes widening in disbelief. "What...?" he whispered, almost as if he couldn't bring himself to believe it.
"I've already called an ambulance," the voice continued. "We're taking her to [XXXX] Hospital. You need to come quickly."
Itachi didn't wait to hear anything else. He hung up the phone and rushed out of the room, his heart thundering in his chest. He had to get to her. Erika... The thought of her being in danger fueled his urgency.
As he burst through the front door, Yana noticed his frantic movements from the living room. "Itachi!" she called, confused and worried, rushing to her feet.
He barely heard her, his mind set on one thing. He was at the door, already heading for the car when she caught up to him.
"Itachi!" Yana's voice was louder this time, filled with concern. She saw the panic in his face as he turned toward her, his expression betraying the fear he was trying to suppress.
"Erika," he managed to say, his voice tight. "She's been shot."
Yana's eyes widened in horror, her hand flying to her mouth. "What?!" she gasped, feeling her heart sink.
"I need to go—now," Itachi said, already moving toward the car.
"I'm coming with you," Yana insisted, her voice steady despite the shock. Without another word, she climbed into the passenger seat beside him.
Together, they sped off toward the hospital, the air thick with tension. Takashi, watching from the window, saw them leave in a hurry and frowned, wondering where they were going at such a late hour.
In the car, Itachi's hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles white as his mind raced with worry. He couldn't shake the image of Erika hurt, in pain. The thought of her lying there, helpless, was unbearable.
Yana glanced at him, her heart breaking at the sight of her son so shaken. She reached out, placing a hand on his arm. "She'll be alright, Itachi," she said softly, trying to comfort him. "Erika is strong. She'll pull through this."
Itachi nodded, but his mind was elsewhere. "I hope so," he muttered, his voice strained. "But... the person who called me—there was something in their voice. It made me feel... anxious."
Yana squeezed his arm gently, her voice soft but firm. "I don't know who called, but I do know this—Erika is a fighter. She'll be alright. You have to believe that."
He nodded again, but the fear remained, gnawing at him. In his mind, all he could think was, Erika, hold on... I'm coming.
As they arrived at the hospital, Itachi wasted no time. He ran straight to the reception desk, his heart racing in his chest. Yana followed closely behind him, her face tight with worry.
"Excuse me, ma'am," Itachi asked breathlessly. "Is there someone named Erika Ichikawa here?"
The receptionist quickly checked the database, then nodded. "Yes, she was recently admitted. She's currently in the operating ward."
Itachi's heart sank, but he nodded in thanks before rushing toward the ward. Yana followed, watching her son, her own anxiety growing by the second.
As Itachi reached the hallway outside the operating room, he saw a man standing nearby. He had long blond hair combed heavily to one side, covering his left eye. Itachi approached him, his gaze sharp.
The man turned to face him. "Who are you?" he asked, his voice cautious but curious.
Itachi didn't hesitate. "I'm the one who received the call about her. Are you the person who called?"
From behind, Yana arrived, and the man's expression shifted as he recognized her. "You must be Mrs. Yaoyorozu," he said with a respectful nod.
Yana nodded, her face pale. Itachi's voice was tight with urgency as he asked, "What happened?"
The man—Tsunagu Hakamada, also known as Best Jeanist—looked serious, his own face set in a grim expression. "I was patrolling the area when I heard gunshots," he explained. "I rushed to the scene and found four thugs. I managed to capture three, but one of them got away."
Itachi listened in silence, his jaw clenched, his eyes filled with a simmering anger. "Where was she shot?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Tsunagu hesitated, his gaze dropping. "In the chest..."
Itachi stood frozen, the weight of those words hitting him like a punch. Behind him, Yana gasped, tears welling in her eyes as she covered her mouth, struggling to hold back sobs.
Without another word, Itachi walked over to a bench and sat down, his expression cold and unreadable. Yana approached him, placing a hand on his shoulder before pulling him into a gentle hug, her own tears falling freely now.
They waited in tense silence until the door to the operating room finally opened. A doctor stepped out, and Yana quickly stood, her heart in her throat as she rushed over.
"Are you Erika's family?" the doctor asked, looking at them both.
"Yes," Yana whispered, her voice trembling.
The doctor sighed, his face heavy with sorrow. "I'm very sorry. The bullet hit her heart, and despite our efforts, the damage was too severe. We couldn't save her."
Yana's eyes widened, her body going numb as the words sank in. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she shook her head in disbelief. "No..." she whispered, her voice breaking.
Itachi remained seated, silent and still. He didn't react at first, but after a moment, he stood up, his face devoid of emotion. "Can I see her?" he asked quietly.
The doctor nodded sympathetically. "You have about 30 minutes before we move her to the cold room."
Itachi nodded in acknowledgment and walked toward the room, Yana following close behind him, still in shock.
As they entered the room, Itachi's eyes fell on Erika, lying motionless on the bed. Her face was pale, almost peaceful, as if she was simply sleeping. Itachi walked over slowly, standing by her side. He gazed down at her, his heart heavy, but his expression betrayed nothing of the storm raging inside him.
Yana stood a few steps behind him, her tears flowing freely now. She wrapped her arms around Itachi from behind, her sobs muffled as she rested her head against his back. Itachi said nothing, but the weight of the loss was unbearable.
In that quiet moment, the only sound in the room was the soft hum of the machines and the quiet sobs of a grieving mother.
A nurse quietly entered the room, carrying a small box in her hands. She glanced at the grieving pair and spoke softly, "Are you family of Erika Ichikawa?"
Yana, still holding back tears, nodded weakly.
The nurse stepped closer and handed Yana the box. "These were her personal belongings," she said gently. "She mentioned that this was for someone's birthday."
Yana looked down at the box, her tears falling even faster now. Her voice broke as she whispered, "She… she went out to buy you a gift… for your birthday…"
Itachi, standing beside Erika's still body, felt the tears he had been holding back finally spill over. His hand trembled as he reached out, gently touching Erika's cold forehead, the warmth of life already gone from her.
Yana, overwhelmed with grief, wrapped her arms around her son, holding him tightly as tears streamed down her face. Itachi's gaze remained fixed on Erika, and in a voice thick with emotion, he finally spoke.
"Life… it is fleeting, like a single breath in the wind. We hold onto moments, thinking they will last forever, but time… it slips away. In the end, all we have are the memories… and the love we shared. I only wish I had more time… to tell her how much she meant."
His words hung in the air, filled with sorrow and wisdom, a heavy truth that now weighed even more deeply on his heart. Yana clung to him, her silent sobs the only sound, as mother and son shared in their grief for the girl who had gone too soon.
As the doctor approached, his voice was soft but firm. "I'm sorry, ma'am, but you need to leave now."
Yana, her heart heavy with grief, looked at Itachi. He gave a silent nod, understanding it was time to go. They both walked slowly to the reception, where they were handed Erika's death certificate. The weight of the paper seemed like the final, unbearable confirmation of what had just happened.
Yana drove this time, with Itachi sitting in the passenger seat, staring out the window, lost in his thoughts. His heart ached, replaying the moments he had spent with Erika. She had always been there, from the moment he was born. They weren't just master and servant—they were family. For twelve years, she had cared for him, laughed with him, and looked after him as if they were siblings.
With a heavy sigh, Itachi thought, In this life too... I've lost someone I cared about. I wanted her to see me become a hero.
Yana glanced at her son, her heart breaking as she saw the deep sadness etched across his face. "Itachi, we're home," she said gently.
He nodded and slowly stepped out of the car, walking toward the mansion with the weight of grief on his shoulders. As they entered, Takashi was standing near the doorway, waiting for them.
"Where were you both?" Takashi asked, his tone indifferent.
Itachi didn't answer. He just stood there, silent. Yana, trying to keep her composure, replied, "We received a call. Erika... she was shot, and now she's gone."
Takashi barely reacted, his face showing no emotion. "So, you both went to check on the maid I hired?" His words were callous, dismissive.
Yana looked at him, horrified. "Takashi, do you have no sense of empathy?"
"There's no need for that," Takashi replied coldly. "She was just a worker. She came to do her job, she got paid well, and now she's dead. That's all."
Itachi's fists clenched, but he said nothing and began to walk past his father.
Takashi continued, unfazed by the grief around him. "And to be honest, it's better this way. I didn't want her spoiling Momo with her presence. She was only good for looking after you, and we both know you've always been a—"
"Shut up," Itachi murmured, barely audible, but with a force that silenced the room.
Takashi froze, his face showing a rare moment of shock. Yana's eyes widened as well, knowing the storm that was about to follow. She had seen this before—years ago, when Itachi was only four, his eyes had begun to awaken. But now, they were different. The pattern in his eyes was strange, beautiful, and terrifying all at once.
Takashi, trying to regain his composure, scoffed. "What did you just say?"
Itachi turned slowly to face him, his voice calm but filled with cold anger. "I said… shut up."
Takashi felt a chill run down his spine, an unfamiliar sensation of fear. For the first time, he hesitated, as the realization of Itachi's power sank in.
Itachi stood firm, his voice colder than Takashi had ever heard. "People like you, hungry for power…"
Takashi's face twisted in anger and disbelief. "The land you're standing on was built by me! This entire mansion exists because of my hard work!"
Itachi's expression remained icy, unphased. His gaze cut through Takashi's words like a blade. "This mansion exists because of my mother. Not you."
Both Takashi and Yana were struck by the force of Itachi's words. Takashi's eyes widened, and Yana, though silent, was equally shocked by Itachi's boldness. He continued, his voice unwavering, "It's because of her quirk that your business thrives. That's why you've been so desperate for someone with the same ability—so the business could keep running without you lifting a finger."
Fear flickered in Takashi's eyes for the first time. Itachi stepped closer, his gaze penetrating, devoid of warmth. "Talking to someone as greedy as you is a waste of time."
With that, Itachi turned and left the room, his footsteps echoing in the silence. Takashi stood there, frozen, struggling to catch his breath. His mind raced, replaying the coldness in Itachi's eyes. What were those eyes? He'd never felt such a chill before.
Yana watched everything unfold, stunned. Takashi cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure, but it was clear his arrogance had faltered. Angrily, he stormed off to his room, the door slamming behind him.
Yana stood alone, her heart heavy. Tomorrow was supposed to be Itachi's birthday, a day of celebration, but instead, tragedy had struck. Erika was gone, and Itachi's confrontation with his father only added to the weight of the day. She sighed, thinking, This isn't the time to approach him… I need to let him calm down.
She cast one last look down the hallway where Itachi had disappeared, then quietly retreated to her room, sadness weighing her steps.
Itachi entered his room, shutting the door behind him softly, as though the weight of everything that had happened had drained him of the energy to do anything more. He stood in the dim light of the room for a moment, his breath slow and heavy. His eyes, still swirling with the newfound power of the Mangekyo Sharingan, scanned the quiet space before he moved toward the bed.
Sitting down, he placed his hands on his knees, feeling the exhaustion of the day settle into his bones. His thoughts, once cold and focused during the confrontation with Takashi, began to drift back to Erika.
The memories flooded him all at once. He remembered her laughter when he was a child, the way she would tease him, saying, "You'll be a strong hero one day, Itachi," as she helped him train. How she had been more than just a maid in the house—she had been family. There were moments when she would bring him snacks when he stayed up late studying, encouraging him when his mind was burdened by the pressure of his life, always with that kind smile on her face. He thought back to how she'd braided Momo's hair or the way she always ensured the house felt like a home.
Itachi closed his eyes, allowing the bittersweet warmth of those memories to flood over him. Erika had been with him since the very beginning, since the day he was born. He had never imagined a life without her presence in it.
His hand instinctively went to his pocket. As he pulled out the small box the nurse had given to Yana, he hesitated for a moment, staring at it. Slowly, he opened the box. Inside was a locket—a small, elegant piece with a bright red stone in its center, a color eerily similar to his own eyes when his Sharingan activated.
Itachi's breath caught in his throat as he picked up the locket, holding it gently between his fingers. A single tear welled up in his eye and slid down his cheek, landing softly on the metal surface. He closed his eyes, the tear streaking down, and pressed the locket to his forehead, taking in the weight of what it meant.
This was Erika's last gift to him—her final act of care. She had gone out to buy this for him, to surprise him for his birthday. Even as life was taken from her, she had thought of him. The bond between them had transcended that of a mere maid and master. They had been family, siblings in all but blood.
With trembling hands, Itachi slipped the locket around his neck. He could feel its weight settle against his chest, the cool metal resting against his skin. He held it for a moment, closing his eyes as he whispered, "Thank you… Erika."
The silence of the room wrapped around him, but this time, it wasn't just emptiness. It was the weight of loss, the void left behind by someone who had always been there. The locket, a symbol of her care, hung around his neck, a reminder of the love she had shown him in life and the promise he made to her in death.
The next morning arrived, but it didn't feel like a birthday to Itachi. The weight of Erika's absence hung heavily over him, a reminder that this day would never be the same. He slowly got out of bed, expecting the familiar aroma of coffee she always made for him. But then reality hit him—Erika was gone. His chest tightened with the realization, and he sighed deeply.
He stood and went into the bathroom, taking a long, quiet shower. The steam surrounded him, but the usual comfort it provided was absent. Everything felt different. Afterward, he stepped out, expecting to see clothes laid out on the bed as usual. But the bed was empty. He stood for a moment, staring at the empty space where Erika's thoughtful care used to be. With a resigned sigh, he walked over to his wardrobe and picked out his new middle school uniform, as today marked his first day.
Once dressed, he walked into the living room, where he saw Yana sitting on the sofa, already prepared for the day. Momo, dressed in her tiny nursery school uniform, sat beside her, kicking her legs idly. Yana greeted him with a sad but warm smile.
"Good morning," she said softly.
Itachi nodded, his response muted. He sat down on the sofa across from them. Yana's eyes fell to the locket around his neck—the one Erika had meant as a birthday gift. Her smile faltered slightly, tears brimming in her eyes, but she held them back.
"It looks good on you, dear," Yana said gently, her voice barely above a whisper.
Itachi simply nodded again, saying nothing. He wasn't ready to speak. His emotions felt like a tangled knot in his chest, and any word he tried to say might unravel it entirely.
Momo, who had been watching her brother closely, got up from the sofa and walked over to him. Without saying a word, she wrapped her small arms around him, pressing her face into his side. "Why are you sad, brother?" she asked, her voice quivering, tears already welling up in her innocent eyes.
Itachi looked down at her, taken aback. He hadn't realized how much his own sadness was affecting her. Forcing a sad smile, he placed a gentle hand on her head. "Why are you crying, Momo?" he asked softly.
Momo sniffed and wiped her eyes, looking up at him. "Your sad face makes me cry."
For the first time that morning, a genuine smile tugged at the corners of Itachi's lips. He hugged her tightly, trying to offer comfort, even as he struggled with his own grief. "Don't worry, Momo. Today is your school day, right?"
She nodded, still clinging to him, her tears slowing.
Itachi wiped the remaining tears from her cheeks. "Then come on, I'll take you to school," he said gently, lifting her up in his arms. He turned to his mother. "Mother, I'll drop her off."
Yana nodded, her voice soft and filled with affection. "Okay, dear. Be safe."
Itachi carried Momo out to the car, settling her into the backseat as he slid in next to her. "First, to the nursery school," he told the driver.
The drive was quiet, but Momo was now smiling again, swinging her feet and playing with the edge of her uniform. When they arrived at the nursery, Itachi walked her to the school's entrance, kneeling down to her level.
"Go on now, Momo. Enjoy your day," he said, his voice filled with a bittersweet warmth.
Momo nodded, smiling widely. "Okay, brother!" She waved as she ran off toward her classroom. Before disappearing through the doors, she turned back and shouted, "I'll make lots of friends, I promise!"
Itachi waved back, watching her until she was out of sight. He took a deep breath, his smile fading as he walked back to the car. Once he got in, his expression turned stoic again.
"Now to the middle school," he instructed the driver.
The car pulled away, and Itachi stared out the window, the locket heavy against his chest. Today was his birthday, but it felt hollow. The first day of middle school should have felt like a milestone, a fresh start. But all he could think about was the empty space Erika had left behind. The memories of their time together lingered, and though he knew she would have wanted him to keep moving forward, the pain of her loss was still too fresh.
As the car approached the middle school Itachi walked onto the school grounds, his face expressionless as he moved through the crowd of students. His mind was elsewhere, still caught in the memories of Erika. The school buzzed with excitement, but he felt detached, like an observer to a world that no longer felt real.
As he made his way toward the classroom, he suddenly heard someone shout from behind him, "Happy birth—!" Before the voice could finish, Itachi instinctively stepped aside, dodging a flying figure. Keigo, using his wings to steady himself, barely avoided crashing into the ground.
Keigo turned with a grin. "Happy birthday, bro!" he exclaimed, giving Itachi a thumbs up.
Itachi, still in his quiet state, merely nodded and continued walking past him. Keigo, noticing the cold response, tilted his head slightly. Something was off, and he could feel it.
He quickly caught up with Itachi, walking alongside him. As they passed by other students, many of them stared at Itachi with admiration, some even blushing or whispering excitedly. But Itachi didn't seem to notice any of it. Keigo, who usually loved the attention, was now more focused on his friend.
Once they entered the classroom, Itachi made his way to the last desk, sitting down in silence. Keigo, who sat beside him, observed him closely. Itachi was usually composed, but this level of detachment was different, and Keigo couldn't ignore it.
"Something happen?" Keigo asked, his voice low and concerned.
Itachi glanced at him but remained silent for a moment before finally responding, "Nothing happened."
Keigo frowned, leaning closer. "You can tell me, bro. I'm your friend, after all."
Itachi sighed softly, his gaze drifting to the window. "There's nothing you can do."
Keigo's eyes softened, sensing the weight behind Itachi's words. He leaned back in his chair, folding his arms, before speaking carefully. "Is this about your father?"
Itachi shook his head, eyes still distant.
"Then…?" Keigo pressed gently.
Itachi hesitated, then finally spoke in a quiet voice. "It's about Erika."
Keigo's expression changed instantly. He remembered Erika well. She had been like family to Itachi, the one who had always been there for him. Keigo had met her when he first visited Itachi's home, and she'd left a strong impression on him.
"Erika…?" Keigo repeated, concern deepening. "What happened?"
Itachi's voice was even quieter as he said, "She died in an accident."
Keigo's eyes widened, a wave of shock and sadness washing over him. "What?" The word slipped out louder than he intended, and the entire class turned to look at them.
Realizing what Itachi had been carrying all this time, Keigo quickly lowered his voice. "I'm so sorry for your loss, man." His usual playful tone was gone, replaced with genuine sympathy.
Itachi nodded slowly, not wanting to dwell on it. But Keigo wasn't done. "That's… that's really tough. But you know," he said, his voice picking up with a hint of determination, "this gives you even more reason. You have a purpose now."
Itachi looked at him, confused. "A purpose?"
"Yeah," Keigo said, leaning forward. "Now you have to become a hero. For her."
Itachi's eyes softened, and he took in Keigo's words. They resonated with him, more than anything else had today. For Erika… He had to move forward, for her sake.
With a small, genuine smile, Itachi nodded. "Yes… for her."
Keigo smiled back, happy to see some life return to his friend's eyes. Wanting to lift the mood, he pulled out a small gift from his bag. "Here, take this. A little something for your birthday."
Itachi blinked, surprised. He looked at the box, then back at Keigo. "Should I open it?"
Keigo smirked. "Of course! What kind of birthday gift would it be if you didn't open it?"
Itachi carefully opened the box, and his eyes widened slightly when he saw what was inside: a book on philosophy. He turned to Keigo, genuinely surprised.
"Thank you," Itachi said softly. "It's… a good gift."
Keigo grinned, clearly pleased with himself. "I knew it'd be perfect for a nerd like you."
Itachi's expression softened further. The words reminded him of Erika—she used to call him a nerd too, teasing him in the same way. He smiled slightly. "Yeah…"
Before they could continue, a group of girls suddenly surrounded them, all eyes on Itachi. One of them spoke up, "It's your birthday, Yaoyorozu-san!"
Keigo, ever the showman, made a dramatic gesture. "So, what about me?"
The girl ignored him completely. "We're not talking to you, Takami."
Keigo clutched his chest, pretending to be heartbroken. "Ouch! The betrayal!"
Itachi sighed but smiled slightly at Keigo's antics. The girls all giggled and extended their hands toward him, one by one. "Happy birthday, Itachi!"
As school ended, Keigo waved at Itachi with a grin. "Take care, bro," he said.
Itachi nodded, returning the smile, and made his way to his car. Once he arrived back at the mansion, his younger sister, Momo, spotted him and ran over, hugging his legs tightly. "Happy birthday, brother!" she beamed, her voice full of joy.
Itachi knelt down, smiling warmly. "Thank you, Momo."
From nearby, Yana, their mother, called out gently, "Dear, let him come inside first."
Momo reluctantly let go, and Itachi made his way into the house, taking a seat on the sofa. As soon as he sat down, Momo dashed to her room. When she returned, she was hiding something behind her back, her eyes gleaming with excitement. Itachi watched her approach with a soft smile, holding out his hand playfully.
Momo giggled and revealed a small hand-crafted doll of Itachi himself, complete with red eyes and his signature calm expression.
Itachi's smile deepened as he took the doll. "Wow, it looks just like me," he said, genuinely impressed. He gently patted Momo's head. "My Momo is very clever."
Momo grinned from ear to ear. "Yeah!"
Yana stood nearby, observing them. Despite her smile, there was a trace of sadness in her eyes. She walked over, carrying a large box. "Here, dear," she said softly.
Itachi blinked, looking at the box. "It's pretty big…" he murmured.
Yana chuckled. "Just open it."
With a slight curiosity, Itachi unwrapped the box and found an assortment of kunai and shuriken inside. He looked up at his mother, a small, grateful smile forming on his lips. "Thank you, Mother. I needed these."
She nodded, her smile gentle. "Of course, I know my son."
Momo's eyes sparkled with fascination as she stared at the weapons. "Wow! So cool! Can I make weapons like these?"
Yana chuckled softly and nodded. "Of course, you can."
Yana looked at her son with quiet concern. Her voice was soft, almost hesitant. "Dear… are you okay now?"
Itachi glanced up, his smile fading slightly, replaced by a shadow of sadness. He forced a small smile and nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine."
Momo, sensing the shift in his mood, stared at her brother with wide eyes, concerned. Noticing her gaze, Itachi quickly smiled again and patted her head reassuringly.
Then, looking back at his mother, Itachi spoke more firmly. "Mother, I've made up my mind. I'll become a hero. For peace… and for Erika. I'll fulfill her dream."
Yana's eyes softened, and a small, bittersweet smile appeared on her face. "I know you will, dear. Erika believed in you, and so do I."
Itachi's hand unconsciously reached for the locket around his neck—the one Erika had given him. He held it tightly, drawing strength from it, his resolve solidifying as his mother and sister stood by his side.