Author's Note: I know, another new story, but I really like this idea. I like a lot of crack pairings and I'm beginning to wonder if this is going to become another one. Let me know what you think and if I should continue! Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I own nothing except for the OC's I create.

Warnings: Nothing much, maybe language OOCness.

Word Count: 4,761

Itachi was happy.

Even in death, he was happy.

He died with a smile on his face because the last person in the world he got to see was the one person he wanted to see the most. His little brother had become so devastatingly handsome as a fifteen year old it felt wrong just being in the boy's presence. When Itachi killed their family, he lost the right to look lovingly on to his little brother, but Sasuke knew the truth. The truth Itachi never wanted him to know, but he knew so all Itachi could do was enjoy these last precious seconds with the person he loved most. In the years that they had been separated, Itachi would think about his baby brother almost every day.

No, every day sounds right.

But no day as much as on Sasuke's birthday. He often would spend most of the day staring up at the sky, whether is be cloudy or clear, raining or sunshine, he would look up and think about the little boy whom he loved more than anything else in the world. Itachi loved being a brother. A big brother, most of all. He loved taking care of the little boy that loved him unconditionally. The one who would having the biggest smile on his face at the mere sight of his brother.

Sasuke loved Itachi like none other and Itachi loved Sasuke just the same.

It killed Itachi to lose Sasuke the way he did. Yes, it was Itachi's choice, but it also appeared to be the only choice. Never would Itachi allow Sasuke to spend his entire life as the son of two conspirators against the Hidden Leaf. Not that Sasuke's lived a much better life than what Itachi had hoped for, but at least Sasuke had the chance of redemption. Itachi firmly placed his faith in Naruto. That boy would definitely look out for Sasuke and love in the brotherly manner that Itachi was no longer allowed to.

And so long as it was Naruto, Itachi could be okay with that. There was an irrefutable bond among those two boys that Itachi is certain will last their entire lifetimes. So long as Sasuke, and Naruto, are happy, then Itachi can die peacefully.

And so he did.

His consciousness only gave him snippets of his rebirth. Carrying Nagato around and battling with Naruto and the Eight Tails Jinchuriki. Going after Kabuto and fighting with Sasuke. Then saying his final goodbye. Itachi has no memories of his time in death. But maybe that's proof that there was nothing after death. Itachi, in the back of his mind, always feared that when he passed, he would face judgment from his dead family.

Maybe Itachi was a bit disappointed about that. He wouldn't be able to make final amends with them. But that is the way life has to go. Things like how death worked is predetermined. Kind of. Tobirama's Reanimation jutsu. Oh, and the Rinne Rebrith. Perhaps things weren't as predetermined as Itachi thought. Just like his first time entering death, the last thing he saw before the darkness consumed him, was the face of his little brother.

After his rebirth flashed before his eyes, the rest of his life followed from his first memories of training to go to war; learning how to be a shinobi and that he was going to be a big brother, all of the choices he has made, good or bad, and all the people he's met and lost along the way. And there was nothing. No thoughts. No feelings. No life flashing before his eyes. Nothing. All of his memories slipped through his fingers like water.

Until there was something. A voice. Something - or someone - calling out to him.

"Otouto! Wake up!"

When Itachi heard that, it sounded kind of like his own voice. When he was younger. Like seven or eight. But that memory easily slipped away too. It was the voice of a child. A small, innocent child who had yet to be worn down by the horrors that life had to throw at them. Like when Itachi was a boy. Like war. Of all his memories that were disappearing, war, remained. The concept and the feelings of helplessness and hatred for it remained while the faces blurred alongside the reasons.

As soon as Itachi became physically aware of himself, he felt his head throbbing and hands touching him all over.

He opens his eyes, squinting into the bright light, something wet streaming from his eyes at the painful throbbing in his head. It had been a long time since he cried, especially from physical pain it felt like, but he felt tired and hurt. What a way to awaken.

An unfamiliar man stares down at him, pushing his hair to the side and looking at something over his brow. Itachi turns away, trying to put some distance between himself and the strange man so that he can inspect his own wounds.

"Itachi," the man says sternly, "sit still and let me look."

Itachi's strength was nothing like her felt it should be and the man manages to push Itachi back onto his back and looks down at the wound with critical black eyes. There was something about this man that left Itachi feeling uneasy. He didn't recognize this man, or any of them for some reason. But there was a distinct resemblance among the three younger boys and the one man. No doubt familial. All with dark hair and eyes. Somehow familiar.

"Itachi," a boy with large black eyes and longer messy black hair says slowly, peaking down at Itachi, "are you okay?"

"Madara," the man says, turning to look at the eldest boy.

The boy in question turns his attention from Itachi to the man. "Father?" he says softly, black eyes wide. He couldn't be older than maybe eight or nine.

He wipes something away from Itachi's face, pulling his hand back a bit to see dark red. "What happened? Why is your brother bleeding from his head?"

Itachi reaches up with his hand and lightly pokes his forehead, flinching in pain and pulling his finger back to look at the dot of red on the tip of his pointer finger. The boy that was addressed by the man suddenly looks nervous.

"I don't know, father. We were all just playing around. I was closer to the tree line when Izuna called out to me saying that Itachi fell down. When I finally got to him..." the boy - Madara - reaches up and rubs the back of his neck, as if suddenly worried whether his words would get him into trouble or not. "Well, when I got to him his head was all bloody and he wouldn't wake up." A pause, then, "Then Marume went and got you."

Itachi reaches up again and slowly wipes his forehead off, flinching a bit again when his fingers and palm run across the bleeding cut on his forehead. His tiny hand, a lot smaller than what it seems like it should be, is covered in blood. His heart rate begins to pick up, breathing increasing.

"And fell on a rock?" the man, this Madara's father, asks incredulously, not sounding like he believed all of that. Madara shrinks back, as if worried that the man would suddenly reach out and strike him.

"Don't touch, Itachi," the second oldest boy says, reaching out and grabbing Itachi's hand when it robotically reaches up again to touch his forehead. He's maybe a year or two younger than the eldest boy and another year or two older than the last boy, who was staring at Itachi with big, watery black eyes, small streams of tears sliding down his pale, but dirty cheeks.

The crying boy puts his arms around the right arm of the middle boy. "Izuna," the youngest boy whimpers into the middle boy's shoulder, still looking down at Itachi, "is Itachi gonna die?"

The boy - Izuna - scoffs softly, looking at the boy. "No, Marume, he's not. Father will take care of him."

The man, who had been staring at the eldest boy for a long moment, before he turns back to Itachi and pulls him into his arms, carrying him. Itachi rests the side of his forehead, partially turned to the strange man's shoulder, unable to turn any more for the bleeding cut on his forehead. There is a heavy pulsing around where Itachi assumes he's bleeding from.

As the man carries Itachi through the woods, the three boys following after him, Itachi had to wonder who these people were and how they knew him. He didn't really know anything about himself, just his name. It's the only thing that's coming to him. The rest is just feelings. He knows these people, these boys and this man, but he can't recall where.

Itachi can feel the wetness of his blood sliding down into his hair. His eyelids grew heavy as the man's warmth seeps into him. He blinks slowly, a little voice in the back of his head advising him not to fall asleep. Not that he could with the painful throbbing in the front of his head. He had to be small, his body easily able to fit nestled into the man's arms. Even just one arm, when he reaches with the other to move a low tree limb out of the way.

So Itachi turns his gaze up toward the sky, the sun shines brightly directly above Itachi, making it harder for the bleeding boy from keeping his eyes closed. He must have entered some form of half lucid state because one moment he was staring at the sky, looking away from the sun and just watching the clouds, and the next moment, he was in a building, laying, on his back in the middle of the room.

Another man leans over Itachi, making quick work of cleaning his forehead before taking a needle and thread and begin stitching the wound closed. Itachi made no sound throughout the entire thing, his body feeling numb. All he did was stare blankly up at the ceiling. The man kept looking down at him and saying, "Stay awake and talk with me, Itachi-kun. Say something. Anything."

Itachi was hearing the words but didn't really compute any that was said. Someone else, a woman with long beautiful black hair appears in his vision. Her eyebrows are pulled together tightly, face screwed up in worry. She was running a wet rag through Itachi's hair, trying to get the blood out. She made sure to stay away from the stitches and the healers hands while softly whispering his name over and over again.

"Itachi," the woman says softly, her voice quivering slightly, "please speak. Baby, please say something."

Itachi's lips part but he doesn't know what to say. He doesn't know these people or what they want. He doesn't know where he is or how he even got to wherever they were. Her voice doesn't sound bad, but Itachi doesn't know what to say.

"It's not funny, Itachi!" the youngest boy calls from one corner of the room. Itachi slowly turns his head toward it, but the man pulls his head back forward to keep working on the wound.

"Marume..." the woman says softly, looking over her left shoulder.

"Stop playing around, Itachi!" The littlest boy says thickly, voice trembling. "Be okay, okay? Be okay..."

"Shh, Marume," a softer older voice says. "Let the healer work. Brother should be fine..."

A moment of silence. "'Should'..?" the middle boy says, sounding worried. The oldest boy whispers something back and the sound of shifting clothes.

No one speaks again for a bit while the healer works. Once Itachi's head is stitched closed, the man properly cleans all the blood away from Itachi's face, even the trails of blood down between his eyes and nose and down his chin and to his hairline. The throbbing in Itachi's head doesn't subside right away and it leaves Itachi feeling dazed.

"Itachi-kun," the healer says, peering down at the dazed boy, "can you say something? Here, sit up, slowly." He helps Itachi up, the woman easily pulls him into her arms, letting his back rest against her stomach and chest. She wraps her arms loosely around him and places a gentle kiss on the top of Itachi's head, but the boy barely felt it in the haze that's fogging up his mind.

He looks around the room, in the far left corner of the room the three boys are all huddled together. Both younger boys sit curled up against Madara with his arms around both boys. The woman is holding Itachi in the middle of the room. The healer is right in front of him, knelt down and looking into Itachi's eyes, looking for something and the man from earlier is a little off to the side. He's looking at Itachi with intense dark eyes, sitting with his legs tucked under him and his hands resting on his thighs.

"Itachi-kun," the healer says, "can you tell me who this man is?" He gestures toward the man that carried Itachi to this home. Itachi lets his eyes slide back over at the man for a moment before returning them to the healer and shaking his head slowly.

Both men frown at that while the woman wraps her arms tighter around Itachi without hurting him, her body starts shaking slightly. It took Itachi a lot longer than perhaps it should have to realize that the woman was starting to cry. But why? Because he didn't know the stranger before him?

The healer nods toward the woman behind Itachi. "Do you know that lady behind you?"

Itachi twists around in her arms to look up at her. She's beautiful with long pitch black hair with bangs framing the sides of her thin, pale face with large obsidian eyes framed with long, thick eyelashes. Her long black hair was pulled up into an intricate hair style that he can't really see from his angle. She had large dangling earrings from her ears that are Uchiha fans.

She had tears slipping down her cheeks, a tear landing on Itachi's face. He reaches up and wipes it away before turning back toward the healer and shaking his head mutely. The woman lets out a little sob.

The healer looks greatly unhappy by that. "And those boys?"

Itachi glances over at the three boys that he was with before he lost his memories but he still has no idea on who they were, other than that they were brothers, obviously. Itachi is about to say no, that he doesn't recognize them, but his eyes lock on to the eldest brother and this strange nagging feeling keeps tugging at the back of his head.

There was something about the eldest boy - Madara - that was familiar, but Itachi just didn't know what it was. It took him a moment to realize that the healer was talking to him again. His eyes drag over to the older man, wondering if he'll repeat himself.

He does. "Which boy are you looking at? Which one is familiar to you, Itachi-kun? The youngest one?"

Itachi's eyes lower to the smallest boy in the group, taking in his small, slightly chubby face with large pitch black eyes and black hair a few inches past his chin. His little face is red and he's teary eyed, staring back at Itachi.

Itachi didn't understand why the boy was crying. Obviously he was upset about Itachi's lack of ability to remember any of them, but that means that they have a personal enough connection with him to feel bad about not being able to be remembered. He must be really close to Itachi to be that visibly upset, and there was something a little familiar with him, but not as much as with the eldest brother.

"No," Itachi says, his voice is soft and light. "The oldest one."

Madara perks up at that, black eyes wide. "Me?"

Itachi nods slowly before turning toward the healer again. He tries to pull himself from the strange woman's hold and while she lets him, she's reluctant to do so, her fingers twitching a bit to try and reach out and grab him again, but somehow manages to restrain herself. Itachi scoots a bit away from everyone so he can sit up by himself. His head really hurts and there still some sticky blood in his hair and on his neck and ear.

It took a moment for Itachi to find his balance and sit up properly, giving himself a look at himself. His hands are small, his legs are short, his voice is light and airy, a telltale sign of great youth. His body is young, but it feels to be too young. His mind feels old, like really old. He's having a bit of an issue processing his advanced thoughts and perceptions. Perhaps it's his magical head injuries. He had collapsed, the brothers said. When he turned around, Itachi was laying on the ground, with his head injury.

How did that happen? Did he fall on a rock? That wouldn't have caused that bad of an injury? Not the superficial injury, but the lack of memory? The wound isn't nearly bad enough for that to happen.

"Where am I?" Itachi asks softly, looking around the room. "Who are you all?"

"Stop it, Itachi! Just stop!" the youngest boy says, crying again, clutching tightly to the middle boy.

"Itachi," Itachi says softly, "that's me. And who are you?"

The little boy's face twists around in a look of obvious unhappiness. "Marume," the little boy says thickly, sniffling loudly. He runs a little hand over his slightly reddened face. There is a frown on his face. "You're twin..."

"Marume," Itachi whispers, not really registering the second part of what the small boy said.

"Izuna," the middle boy says. "Your older brother."

"Izuna," Itachi repeats, looking at the boy. Then to the eldest brother.

"Madara," the eldest brother says, big black eyes wide. "Your eldest brother."

"Madara," Itachi echoes. None of their names rings a bell with Itachi, but there was still something achingly familiar about this Madara. There was something about him that Itachi could just empathise with. Something that they share - which is laughable to think because apparently they are all brothers, so they share a lot of things - but it felt deeper than that. What it was exactly, Itachi didn't know.

Itachi, after a moment, manages to pull his eyes away from Madara, his eldest brother, to the man behind the healer. He was obviously greatly displeased by Itachi's lack of memory. "Who are you?" Itachi asks.

"Tajima," the man says, lips pressing together in a thin line. "I'm your father, Itachi."

Itachi tilts his head slightly, wondering if there was any sort of tangible connection between himself and the man that is supposedly his father. Itachi didn't really know what he looked like, but starting at the man now, generic things about him seemed familiar. His dark eyes and hair, a stern look on his face. Prominent lines from years of obvious happiness.

"I'm Mikomo... your mother," the woman says softly, eyebrows pulled together tightly. Her hands are curled around each other pressed against her chest. "Please, sweetheart, tell me that you remember...?"

Itachi looks at her for a moment. Her long dark blue hair pulled up into intricate twists and turns that Itachi has no idea was possible. She has long bangs framing the sides of her pale face going all the way to her shoulders. Even in her big, light purple and blue kimono, she looks tiny, frail even. Was it because of Itachi? Was she... looking so small because she was his mother and he didn't remember her? There wouldn't be any physical affects so soon. There is something else going on with her, Itachi just knows it.

"Are you sick?" He asks softly, looking at the frail woman.

She looks surprised, large black eyes widening. "I... no, no, sweetheart. I'm not." Itachi doesn't believe that, but even if he's the woman's son, he still doesn't really feel that connection with her so he doesn't press it. At this point, as far as he knows, it's not his place.

"Where am I?" Itachi asks, looking around the room. There is two beds already laid out on the right side of the room. One is close to the front of the small room, close to the window while the other one is a few feet away. There is a fire pit in the middle of the room and small chests lining the other wall for clothes and other things. All around the bed, the one away from the window, is childhood blankets - four of them - and a bunch of toys strewn about.

The three brothers are standing in that corner next to the bed. They stare back at Itachi with wide, obviously unhappy eyes.

"Why don't I remember any of you?" Itachi asks, turning to look back over at the man. "Why?"

The healer presses his lips together tightly before looking over at the man. He shakes his head, saying something that Itachi couldn't catch, but whatever it was, the man - Itachi's father - seemed even more unhappy about.

"Father," Madara asks softly, big black eyes wide, "what do we do?"

Tajima stares down at Itachi with narrowed, dark eyes, silently debating something before sighing. He looks over at the healer and stands up, making a motion for the man to follow him. The healer stands and follows him out. After a moment, Mikomo stands, bending down to kiss the top of Itachi's head before stepping out of the small house too. Itachi turns to look over at the brothers who were now creeping out of the corner of the room since the adults are gone from the house. They sit around Itachi, then only one eye level with him is Marume.

Twins. So this boy looks just like him.

"Don't worry, Itachi," Izuna says, crossing his legs while sitting in front of the youngest boy, "we'll help you out. We'll stay by your side and help you remember everything."

Itachi nods. After a minute or so of them just staring at each other, before the three brothers jump up and run around the room, grabbing things and bringing them over to Itachi, telling him about them and asking if he is able to remember them. They make sure to put everything back where they had gotten them, as to not anger their father by ruining the house. Itachi doesn't recall any of them.

Childhood blanket? No.

Painting of Tajima's parents? Nope.

Quilt grandmother on mother's side knitted for Marume and Itachi during the winter months of their second year? No.

First weapon Itachi held? No.

Nothing was familiar to him. It was as if he was looking at all of it for the first time. There wasn't even the slightest glimmer of it possibly being something for him to remember. It was all brand new. Not like the people. There was a shadow of familiarity in their appearance. Maybe not so much their faces, but things about them were familiar. Especially Madara. He was familiar. At least more then any of the others.

"I'm sorry," Itachi says, for perhaps the hundredth time in the past couple of minutes. "I don't recognize anything."

"You speak a little differently," Izuna finally says, dropping down next to Itachi again, legs outstretched in front of him while leaning back on his hands. "A lot clearer. You sound... well, not bad. Just different. How do you feel?"

Itachi shrugs a single shoulder. "Fine, I guess. I'm confused and my head kind of hurts, but other than that, I'm fine."

All four boys, after a warm broth dinner, were all put into the same bed with Izuna and Madara on the outside of the bed while Marume and Itachi were curled up in the middle. Marume was turned to Izuna with his head buried into the second oldest brother's chest, snoring softly. While Madara was turned toward Itachi, who was facing the ceiling, unable to sleep. He was just staring, feeling lost in this unfamiliar life. He listens to everyone, even his 'parents' who are sleeping in the other bed curled up with one another.

Itachi didn't leave the house, but he could hear a lot of people walking around outside. "Family," Madara had said when Itachi looked out the window when he heard people talking and walking by. Itachi didn't ask for more and Madara didn't offer anymore up.

After dinner, which he barely touched, they all went to bed. Tajima said something about tomorrow being a "big day" for them. When Itachi asked what that meant, Tajima just softly told him that he would see the next day, so Itachi kept his mouth shut afterward. He kept quiet most of the night, watching the family interact and trying to find himself amongst them. They went out of their way to include him in everything that they do.

Itachi didn't know how to feel about it. On one hand, it was nice to be able to start finding his place in this world and this family that he doesn't recognize but seems to know him well - they gave him food he ended up liking, all of them, and read him stories he liked too - before all of them went to bed.

Madara's soft breaths brush the left side of his face. Itachi turns to face Madara, staring at the older boy's sleeping face. Itachi can't really get a good look at it because Madara's back was to the moonlight, blocking it out. Tajima shifts in his bed, letting out a long whoosh of breath before falling silent. Itachi sits up slowly and looks around the darkened out little house, reaching up with a little hand and running it through his dark hair, tugging at the bottom of the thin strands past his chin. The strands seem a little bit longer than his twin brother's. According to Mikomo, they are splitting images of one another. The only way to tell them apart was because Itachi didn't talk much and his hair was slightly longer, that's it.

"You can go to them," Madara says softly, sitting up.

Itachi stares with slightly widened eyes. "Did I wake you?"

Madara shakes his head. "No, I'm a very light sleeper. But I said that you could got to them. Mother and father, I mean. You used to crawl into bed with them almost every night."

Itachi doesn't respond right away, just stares at the older boy through the darkness. Then he scoots closer, wondering what the boy will do before wrapping his arms around his eldest brother, unable to shake this connection that they have. "I don't want to go. I don't know them... not really..."

Madara lays down, pulling Itachi with him, running a hand up and down his back comfortingly. "You do know them, otouto, you just don't remember right now, is all. It'll come to you one day. I promise."

"What if it doesn't?" Itachj asks softly, snuggling closer to the older boy for warmth.

Madara doesn't answer right away, instead just continues to rub Itachi's back and think to himself. Once he finally seems to come to a mental conclusion, he says, "It's just like father says, Itachi, we are Uchiha. Uchiha are strong and capable. But more than any of that, we are family. You are my little brother, Itachi, and as your aniki, it's my job to protect you. No matter what. That's what big brothers are for. They do anything and everything for their little brothers. No matter the cost."