A/N: Welcome to my new story, everyone. Don't worry, I'm not abandoning "The longest Night", Just needed a change so my mind supplied this.

I had this idea for a really long time and actually, it was supposed to be a very angsty story. But somehow, it turned out to be humor.
EDIT: 06.17 Teacup 17 is awesome as a Beta. after working the later half of the story with her, she offered the edit the previous chapters for me. So now, enjoy the edited version. :-)

Another reincarnation story

01.

Itachi opened his eyes and instantly wanted to close them again.

He glanced up at the empty ceiling and knew exactly where he was. He recognized the smell in the air and suppressed the reflex to gag. He heard footsteps of a light woman not far away and felt the instinct of flight.

He felt sick.

This was wrong.

This was not what Itachi had expected.

Itachi was in his childhood home.

On impulse, Itachi shut his eyes firmly, he pressed his hands against his ears and even held his breath. Maybe, when he continued this long enough his surroundings would change. After almost a minute, Itachi realized that his rash decision was nothing more but a suicide attempt that left his chest hurting and his ears ringing.

He turned in his futon and pressed his face into the pillow that smelled of his hair. This was not how it should be. He died, for the second time. He was dead and this couldn't possibly be the afterlife.

Not knowing what else he could do right now, Itachi resorted to what he did best. Thinking.

His first thought was that this was a dream. But dead men didn't dream.

His second categorized his present surrounding as an illusion. But how could he be in an illusion if he no longer had the corporal sense to receive the manipulation.

He was dead. He had said goodbye to Sasuke and allowed his existence to vanish in a flash of light. He had allowed his soul summoned by Kabuto to returned where souls went after death. He was dead.

Perhaps, this really was life after death. Maybe he was sent here to be tortured for the crimes he had committed. Or this was how things worked. Did dead men return to the place he craved the most and live the life they had? Was this a reward or a punishment? Perhaps, even a second chance to right his wrongs?

Or was it something more?

He stretched under his blanket and felt suddenly small. His body was light and healthy. His arms and legs were too thin for his liking. He felt his long hair wrap around his neck and pulled them into position as he slowly understood that he was trapped in his own child-body. Why would he be in his own body somewhere before puberty?

Could it be?

He had never heard of anything quite like this. If dead men really reincarnated into their own bodies, wouldn't that be known? Wouldn't someone have discovered how that worked and wrote down something about it? But on the other hand, who would believe it? Who would seriously listen to a child claiming that his mind came from the future?

For a while, Itachi just wanted to lay there, enjoying breathing without difficulty. But not doing anything wasn't really his strong suit. Besides who else was given the chance of seeing their younger self through older eyes? Caught by sudden curiosity, Itachi rolled out of his futon. He didn't want to stand up just to kneel down again, so he crawled the few meters to the mirror standing in the corner of the room, next to his dresser.

The figure staring back at him was disgusting, Itachi decided. He wasn't just small, but downright tiny. His arms and legs were scrawny, not a hint of muscle on them. His skin was pale, as if Itachi had never been in the sun before. His little neck supported a head that was slightly too big for his meager body. His face was worse. In his own time when he was 21, Itachi had been called beautiful or pretty a few times, at least back then he was distinctively male. Right now, Itachi thought he looked like a girl. A very ugly girl that is. His eyes were too large, his lashes way longer than he remembered. The lines on his face made him look stern, but those little, rosy lips were that of a woman.

Itachi comforted himself that at least his hair was still long, and black and completely ruffled. They were unkempt, charged from sleep and stood up from his head. If he was any kinder on himself, Itachi might want to call them a comfortable nest for a murder of crows. He didn't remember being this unsightly at this age.

Speaking of age, Itachi wasn't entirely sure how old he was. He lifted his wrinkled shirt and looked at the spot under his right arm. He remembered having a scar there which he had gotten during a spar with Kakashi. He searched his left knee, also carrying a scar gained on a ANBU mission. Wanting to have more confirmation, Itachi pulled shirt over his head. He pulled his own pants down, just for the heck of it. Kneeling completely naked in front of his mirror, Itachi scanned his own body. He searched the scars that marked down time and found only little. When he was done, Itachi narrowed his window down to a few months before entering the ANBU.

And looking at his undeveloped genitals, he was definitely ten years old.

Sighing, Itachi glared at his own body. He immediately wanted to be 21 again. He lifted his arms and tensed to see his biceps but was disappointed. He struck another pose and came up empty as well. He placed his hands on his hips and tensed his abdomen, trying to discover the outline of his once so defined abs. All he saw were his own ribs.

"I wondered when you're gonna start," came suddenly a very familiar voice from the door.

Reacting on instinct, Itachi reached for the Kunai next to his comb and threw it at the intruder, his nudity suddenly forgotten. Grinning, Shisui blocked the projectile out of the air and slid inside the room. He closed the door behind him and turned with a full-blown smile.

"Nervous?" He took two steps into the room and sat down where he stood. "What's wrong? You're gonna keep them on all day?"

Blinking, Itachi realized that he had activated his Sharingan. For this moment, Shisui's smile was forever burned into his memory, almost driving tears to his eyes. Reluctantly, Itachi drained the chakra from his eyes, fearing that his vision might blur. But it didn't. The world was as sharp as he remembered them. At least, the afterlife, or illusion, or reincarnation had something good.

Only then did Itachi remember that he was completely undressed. He crouched down quickly, face blushed a crimson red. He stared at Shisui while the other boy let his eyebrows dance up and down.

"Turn around," Itachi ordered.

"Nothing I haven't seen before."

"Turn around."

"Seriously?"

"I said," Itachi narrowed his eyes. "Turn around."

"Alright!" Shisui growled. "You're in a bad mood this morning."

"I had the most disturbing dream." After making sure that his cousin wasn't looking, Itachi quickly went through his dresser, looking for something suitable. He immediately wondered why he even bothered. It wasn't like he ever wore anything but those dark-blue shirt with high collar and an Uchiha fan on it.

"Tell me about it," Shisui said. His cousin had abandoned his previous post and had started rolling up Itachi's futon. He groaned doing so and carried them over to the wall cabinet, where he tried to stuff it in. "What did you dream about?"

Itachi stared down at the tiny piece of clothing in his hand and wondered how he should fit in there. He pulled it over his head anyway and sighed. "Of a possible future," He slipped into his shorts and pants. "Where things weren't well."

"Having trouble with your new rank?"

"What?"

"I remember my first months as a chunin," Shisui came closer and sat down next to Itachi. "I constantly asked myself if I was up to the task. Don't worry, it'll pass."

"Ah," Itachi nodded and started taming the nest some called hair.

"I overheard some of my colleagues gossip," Shisui grinned at him. "You're doing fine. More than fine from what I gathered."

"Ah," Itachi nodded again, not quite able to bring himself to care what other chunin thought of him.

"Hey," Shisui placed a warm hand on his chin and lifted it. "What's bothering you?"

Itachi's glare grew softer. It had been a decade since he last talked to Shisui. He still remembered his cousin's bloodied face, fading in the darkness. In his own memory, Shisui was so much older and yet younger than his mental self. In his memory, Shisui was as huge as a god and fierce as a lion. In his memory, Shisui had always gazed at him from afar, fading into a shadow. How could he possibly ever be ready to face a living, talking, smiling Shisui when he had mourned his passing everyday for the past ten years?

Not being able to give voice to what truly concerned him, Itachi resorted to the most present of problems. He lowered his head and murmured, "I look like a girl."

Shisui's eyes widened for a moment. Then, his face was split by a grin as a loud bark of laughter escaped his cousin's mouth. For a while, Shisui wasn't able to stop. He laughed until he held his belly. He toppled over and rolled around on the tatami. Between new bouts, he tried to say something to Itachi, but always failed. The more Shisui laughed, the angrier Itachi got. He had no explanation for it but to say that he was deeply insulted.

Acting his age, Itachi threw the wooden comb in his hand at his cousin, hitting him on the forehead. It instantly stopped his cousin's outburst.

"What the hell was that for?" He rubbed the quickly reddening spot on his forehead and threw the comb back.

"You laughed at me."

"Yeah, it was hilarious."

"Hn,"

"Wait, you're serious?" Shisui wondered, blinking. "It bothers you?"

He didn't want to be angry with the man he loved with all his heart, but he couldn't help it. After all, it was so easy allowing himself to be part of Shisui's shenanigans and laugh with him. In the life he had left behind, Shisui had gone from him too early. In that life where every day was a new hell, Itachi had too few chances to enjoy the sound that always made him smile. So, indulging his childish friend, Itachi pouted.

He returned to combing his hair, which was frustrating him more and more. He stared at the ugly girl in the mirror and decided that he had to change something.

"Of course, it does." He muttered. "Maybe I should cut my hair."

"No!" Shisui lunged towards him, catching him in a fierce embrace. "Don't cut your hair. I promise, I won't laugh again."

"Shisui, I just wanted to cut my hair," Itachi tried to shrug. "Not volunteer for a suicide mission."

"Please don't!" The words Shisui didn't say meant more. In the life Itachi had left behind, his hair was his bond to the word. Severing it was to let go of his present self. "Itachi, you love your hair!"

"Not this morning," Itachi replied. "I look disgusting!"

"Nonsense!" Shisui took the comb out of Itachi's hand. "You're adorable. You're my adorable, little cousin. Let Shisui-nii help you."

Itachi winced as Shisui combed the knots out of his hair. Smiling into the mirror, Itachi marveled about just how masculine his friend was. Shisui lacked the gentleness Itachi had inherited from his mother and was a proud son of the Uchiha through and through. As if hearing his thoughts, Shisui grinned back. He bound Itachi's hair with the red thread he always used and winked.

He lifted both his arms in a pose and stuck his chest out, showing off with his teenage muscles. Speaking with a thick voice due to holding his breath, Shisui said. "Don't worry about your body, it will grow. You're still young. With enough training, you'll maybe have my looks when you're my age. Just not this handsome."

Itachi chuckled. "Not looking like a girl would be enough for me." He smiled at his cousin in the mirror. "For now."

"For now?" Shisui's eye-brows went up and down. "What would you like to be after that?"

"Preferably as masculine as an Uchiha can be," Itachi answered without much thinking.

"With excellent physique and a heart of fire!" Shisui exclaimed and Itachi blushed. "What am I talking? You're ten!"

"I'm not completely a child, Shisui."

"Really?" His cousin crooked a brow. "I don't have to have the talk with you, do I?"

"Please don't!" Itachi moaned.

"Wait," his cousin's eyes widened again. "You know what I'm talking about?"

"What do you take me for?"

With a loud inhale, Shisui crouched down before Itachi, making himself smaller than before. He quickly glanced around as if discussing sensitive intel. "You know?"

Itachi nodded.

"I knew it! It's the dream!" Shisui gasped. He dropped down even more, now almost cowering before Itachi. "Was it about... girls?"

"What?"

"You did, didn't you?"

"No!" Itachi shook his head. How the hell did his cousin come to that thought?

"Come on, you can tell me. Was she pretty?"

"I told you, it's a nightmare."

"Not kind to call girls a nightmare."

"Shisui!" Itachi gasped. He didn't remember his cousin being like this, but truth to be told, all he could remember was being shadowed by his grief. Maybe his cousin always was this vivid, but Itachi just didn't see it with his childish eyes. Maybe all the differences he noticed now was due to his mentally mature self. He wondered how Shisui would be if he didn't kill himself at the river on that fated new-moon night.

"Itachi? Are you alright?" The humor in Shisui's voice vanished. "You look pale."

"I dreamt of you, Shisui." Itachi lied.

"Okay, creepy."

"You died in my dream."

"Even more creepy..."

"I swear by all the gods I know," Itachi looked his cousin in the eyes. "I won't let it happen. I won't let anyone hurt you."

"Thank you!" Shisui said with an open mouthed grin returning to his face.

Itachi didn't care that Shisui wasn't taking him seriously. Shisui didn't have to know. If keeping his secrets and lying to Shisui was the price he had to pay for seeing his cousin carefree for one more moment, Itachi would gladly pay it.

Maybe, this wasn't a punishment after all. Maybe, this was his second chance to save the ones he loved.

Maybe, here, he could finally be happy.

Thank you for reading. And what do you think? It's been a very long time since I wrote something funny.

See you soon, HeavenOnFire.