AN: The title is an old germanic word meaning "apparition" roughly. Pronounced with a hard G.

A part 2 is coming that will explain where I'm going with this!

Enjoy!

000

There was a campfire beyond the thicket. It flickered like laughter. Sarada ran, barefoot, shielding her face with crossed arms so the leaves and twigs did not sting.

She tripped in the same places she always did. There was the boulder by the pond, and the remains of one of the statues at the valley covered in ivy. The fire crackled and popped so loudly now, almost drowning out the whimpers of a baby.

She only stopped when the light seeped behind her arms. She uncovered her face and saw a stranger sitting on the ground with a bundle in hand. He wore his hair much longer than Papa did in the photos around the house, but also looked a lot like him except for the deep, dark circles under his eyes. He even had Sharingan.

"Hello," he said. He seemed sad, but friendly.

(She was quite a bit older than he had expected. Perhaps it was just foolishness on his part for not recognizing that Sasuke's memories were of a toddler.)

"W-who are you?"

"That depends on who you ask. To you, I'm just a stranger."

She crossed her arms. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You don't know me." He smiled very gently, then. "It's alright. I just wanted to meet you."

Sarada was quiet for a bit.

"You look like Papa."

A bit of a laugh. "He is my little brother."

"No way!" The stranger looked far younger than the photo of Papa on the table. Sarada had never heard anything about a brother or other family. "But...wait…"

Of course, she'd never heard anything about him except that he was always on a mission.

"You can call me Itachi." He patted the ground next to him. "It's okay. I'll explain things in a bit."

Itachi...Uchiha? That name sounded like something she had learned in school, maybe. Or heard the Hokage mention. The murderer? The Massacre? He was so fragile and thin. No way! No way he could be that guy.

She tiptoed over and knelt. The bundle in his arms wiggled and made a baby noise.

"What's that?"

"Well...I couldn't write a letter. I had to find a dream, or a memory, and slip in between the gaps. Kind of like genjutsu, I suppose."

(He shouldn't have been able to get even this far into her mind, especially not for someone who wasn't even his child. And Sasuke's mind was too full of painful memories.)

"You're weird." She pouted, then quickly corrected her expression. She had been very impolite before and wanted to make up for it.

He laughed the way Mitsuki did when something took him by surprise, even covering his mouth with the back of his hand.

He gently lowered the baby onto a cot. "Shh. Sleep now," he whispered.

"What's going on?"

"Let's get this out of the way first." He paused for almost a minute, or what felt like a minute. "I'm, ah, dead. Technically"

"You're a ghost?" That explained why he was so...small? He was barely present, or seemed it. Either way, what a strange person. She didn't say any of her thoughts aloud.

(She hid her feelings well. That habit reminded him of...himself, he realized. A new kind of pang shivered through him.)

"That's...apt," he finally said.

"How did you d-" She cut herself off. He replied anyway.

"I was sick. I was in a long, hard battle as well, where I exhausted my chakra and overused my Sharingan." He was very quiet. "I feel saying anything more would be overstepping."

(Sasuke, if anyone, would need to be the one to give her the full story of that day.)

"I'm...sorry. I didn't-" She balled her skirt up in her hands.

"Oh, don't be. It was all a long time ago." He half-smiled. "You look a lot like Sasuke did…He never wore glasses, though."

(Itachi was utterly charmed. He longed to embrace her, give her the familial affection she clearly craved. But that's not how this "projection" worked.)

"Uncle Itachi…" she began, unsure if it was a question he could really answer. Her voice shook. "Do you know where Papa is?"

"Not going to ask more about me, or what all this is?" He chuckled, low and soft. "Alright. I don't know where Sasuke is exactly, unfortunately. His mind is closed off to me."

She blushed and glared at the ground. "I-I didn't wanna be rude!"

(How unlike either of her parents, he thought. Sakura had no issue with being rude, and neither did Sasuke.)

(She recovered quickly from her embarrassment, he noted. Perhaps more like her parents than he'd believed.)

"So where is this?" she asked, sweeping a hand around.

"A memory. An early one. A neutral one." He rested his chin on the palm of his hand. A ring with a red gem glinted on one of his fingers. His nails were painted black, strangely. "Shortly after you were born, I would guess."

"So the-the baby is-me?"

"That's you."

"Why am I in the woods?" Her chest tightened. This was so wrong. Mom had said she was born in the Konoha hospital, free of complications. Her voice rose and cracked. "I wasn't born there."

(Oh no. Why would her parents lie to her about this? Of all the things...)

"You weren't born in the forest, no. I'm unsure exactly where," he murmured, frowning. Inscrutable. "I wouldn't be too concerned."

"B-but-" Her chest felt tight and painful.

"I would think your parents were trying to protect you, if they didn't mention it."

She could feel the dream beginning to unravel. The trees were warping. Veins of white light began dancing at the edge of her vision. Hot, burning tears caused her uncle's face to swim and blur.

(He instinctively reached out to wipe the tears away, then remembered.)

(A surge of anger: at his powerlessness, at Sasuke, even at Sakura for the deception. He knew he had to try again, somehow, to reach Sasuke.)

Papa was always gone on mission, unavailable as anything but a few old photographs. Uncle Itachi was even worse: a ghost, a vision. For all she knew, he might not even be real.

That horrible thought—a new connection was lost, or rather, not even properly made, because her dreaming mind fabricated it—choked out everything else.

She wanted to remember this...dream. She wiped at her eyes beneath the glasses. She couldn't remember if she had learned anything in school about Itachi, but surely she should have. Dreams only used things you saw in reality. Maybe she saw an old photo but it didn't fully register.

She choked it out: "Isn't this just a dream?"

Like a wave of agony, the landscape itself twisted over once. Then it was dangerously still.

Itachi looked sad again. "...No. I'm sorry."

"Will I remember anything when I wake up?"

He poked at her forehead with two fingers. At least it looked like it. She felt a little cold for a few seconds in that spot, but otherwise nothing. He muttered something to himself.

He smiled again, though. "I'll return soon, I promise. It was wonderful meeting you, Sarada."

Then he was gone.