Naruto: Thrown Into the Leaf

The smell of warm rice and grilled fish still lingered in the Uchiha home.

Otis sat on the wooden floor, legs crossed, sipping tea, his massive frame was oddly gentle against the delicate architecture of the house.

And then he heard the sliding door open behind him —

He turned his head.

There stood a boy — older than Sasuke, maybe around thirteen. Taller than most, but not by much. Dark eyes. Calm and Measured.

He looked at Otis.

Not for long.

Just long enough to register his presence. And then, he stepped forward and sat down across from him, eyes flicking to the still-steaming kettle nearby.

"You're Mother's guest," the boy said — not asking.

Otis eyed him.

"And you're her other kid?"

The boy gave a short, polite bow.

"Itachi."

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Otis nodded slowly.

"Otis."

A pause. The wind moved and The trees rustled quietly in the garden.

Otis reached into the small tray beside him and pulled out a rice cracker.

"Want one?"

Itachi shook his head. "I've already eaten."

Otis shrugged. "Shame. They're salty."

That earned him the tiniest flicker of a smile —

"Most children don't carry themselves like you do." Itachi said.

Otis popped the rest of the cracker in his mouth.

"And most people don't walk like their spine is made of swords."

Itachi blinked once. That was fair.

They sat in silence again.

Not awkward.

From the kitchen, Mikoto's voice drifted faintly, asking something of Sayuri.

Neither boy moved.

Otis finally broke the silence.

"You come back from a mission?"

"Yes."

"Dangerous?"

"Not this one."

Otis nodded, then leaned back on his palms.

"You look like you carry the village on your back."

"It's not that heavy."

"Maybe you're used to it."

Another stretch of silence.

Otis looked at him, studying him now.

"You ever just... breathe?"

Itachi's expression didn't change, but something behind his eyes shifted.

"Sometimes. When no one's watching."

Otis gave a dry smile.

"Guess that makes two of us."

They didn't say much more.

The floor creaked softly beneath Otis as he leaned back, 

But just as he was about to reach for another cracker— a new voice echoed down the hall:

"Oi, oi, Itachi. You're already brooding inside the house?"

Otis turned.

A tall figure appeared in the doorway, grinning like he'd just gotten away with something. The kind of guy who looked like he was always three thoughts ahead and didn't care if you caught up.

Messy hair, confident posture, and a little gleam of mischief in his eyes.

"Shisui," Itachi said simply.

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"That's me," the new guy replied, stepping in without hesitation. "And this—" he pointed at Otis "—is either a fully grown mercenary disguised as a kid... or the biggest Academy student I've ever seen."

Otis raised a brow. "I'm eleven."

"Hah! That's illegal."

Shisui barked a laugh.

"Gods, he talks like an old man too."

"He eats like one," Itachi added without looking up.

Otis smirked. "You're just jealous of my snacks."

"I don't get jealous," Itachi said.

"He doesn't," Shisui agreed. "He just stands behind trees judging people silently."

Otis let out a low "pfft."

The door behind them slid open again.

Mikoto's voice drifted in calmly.

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"Shisui. No recruiting over food."

"Ah, but this one's got potential, Mikoto-san!"

She stepped in, setting down a small dessert tray. Her gaze moved from Otis, to Itachi, to Shisui — and softened just slightly.

"He's not part of anything," she said gently. "Let him be a boy."

She wasn't talking about this moment.

The silence that followed told them all she meant something more and they knew it.

Itachi lowered his eyes slightly and Shisui didn't joke this time. 

Otis sat silently, holding his teacup.

That phrase echoed longer than it should have. 

"Let him be a boy."

Shisui cleared his throat, steering the mood elsewhere.

"But you're really not eleven, are you?"

Otis side-eyed him. "You always flirt with strangers?"

"Only the ones who look like they can bench-press my house."

Itachi sighed. Barely.

"Shisui. Don't."

"What?" Shisui grinned. "You think I came here for tea?"

"You came for my mother's pickles," Itachi deadpanned.

Right on cue, Mikoto returned, setting down fruit and pickles.

"Shisui," she said with a mild warning, "don't scare him off."

"I'm trying to adopt him."

"You say that every week to Itachi," she replied.

"But this one has broad shoulders and deadpan humor. He's exactly my type." Shisui said not even believing his own word.

Otis glanced between them.

"You people always this intense?"

"We're Uchiha," Mikoto said smoothly.

Itachi finally spoke again.

"He's calm for someone sitting in enemy territory."

"You're not enemies," Otis said, taking a piece of fruit. "You're just... really dramatic neighbors."

Otis thought Madara, Itachi and Sasuke from canon and how they nearly destroyed the ninja world, and let's not forget the greatest of them all 'Uchiha Obito' the legendary SIMP.

Yeah. The Uchiha were dramatic.

That got a small breath out of Shisui — almost a laugh.

Mikoto smiled faintly behind her teacup.

And Itachi?

He looked at Otis just a moment longer.

Like he'd found something he hadn't expected.

But as always — he said nothing.

And then a shinobi approached the house, clad in traditional Uchiha attire. The fan symbol burned boldly on his back.

He stood respectfully outside and spoke.

"Mikoto-sama, the elders are here."

Near the edge of the Uchiha courtyard, arms folded, watching quietly as clan members gathered — stiff, silent and intense. The air was sharp.

Mikoto stepped out from the main house.

She didn't raise her voice.

She didn't need to.

The courtyard silenced as she walked forward, eyes sharp, posture regal. She wore no armor, no robes of rank — Just a clean black kimono. Simple.

But her gaze...

That was the crown.

"She doesn't speak often," came a quiet voice beside Otis.

He turned — Itachi, hands behind his back, eyes half-lowered.

"But when she does," Itachi said, "everyone listens."

Otis looked at her again.

"She always like this?"

"Since Father died."

A pause.

Otis kept his eyes forward. "How?"

"Killed. Escorting me on a battlefield mission."

"I lived. He didn't."

Simple words. No shake in his voice.

Otis didn't push.

"She didn't cry," Itachi continued. "Not in public. Not in private."

"A week later, the elders gathered to discuss succession."

"She walked in and told them there wouldn't be one."

"She was already the clan head."

'What the hell' Otis thought.

Otis blinked. "Just like that?"

Itachi nodded. "No one challenged her."

"Why not?"

Itachi was silent for a long time.

Then:

"Some say her Mangekyō awakened that night." 

Otis's thoughts froze.

Oh shit.

Otis thought that was probably the time when Fugaku took Itachi to the battlefield. and that made Itachi question life, 

And Mikoto?

She didn't just survive. She took the seat.

Otis stared ahead, brain buzzing.

 And unlike Fugaku, she actually knew how to keep those hawk elders in check.

She managed the clan far better than Fugaku ever could.

This world really was different.

Maybe… the Uchiha Massacre won't happen after all.

Though honestly, after meeting two Sasukes…

He wasn't sure what could go more wrong.

...

(A/N)

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