Mikoto thinks to herself: Itachi is twelve.

But--no. He isn't. He just had a birthday. A small affair in the garden before a mission he had later that night. Itachi is thirteen.

Itachi is a killer. He is not a killer in the way other Shinobi are--Itachi is a killer with empty eyes and no remorse and certainly no sense of duty. He has been a killer since he was ten years old.

Mikoto knows this because she had been the one who had seen blood on his clothes after a mission. She had been the one to look in her sons eyes and be politely informed,

"I had to kill him. The mission would have failed if I hadn't,"

--and know deep down he wasn't referring to a target or even an enemy ninja.

She had been the one to tell him that he had done the right thing.

Itachi is thirteen. He is standing in front of her wielding the katana her husband, his father, had given to him upon his enlistment to the Anbu. It had been his grandfather's, and while she thinks of that, Mikoto is struck with the sudden knowledge that she will not live to see her son turn fourteen.

She will not live to see--Sasuke.

Sasuke is only eight. She will not live to see him turn nine, she will not live to light the candles on that cake and she will not be there to watch him blow them out.

Her heart seizes and Itachi is gone. For an eternity that passes in an instant, Mikoto thinks only of Sasuke. She wants to see him.

Mikoto wants to see--she wants to see Sasuke graduate the academy. She wants to see that special smile of his, the one reserved for those moments where he knows his father is watching his back and feeling…pride. She wants to see the wild wonder in his face the first time he opens his Sharingan-red eyes and sees the world through eyes she'll never know.

She wants to watch him grow strong.

Mikoto is--terrified. Of the little things. The most important things.

She wants to know who will greet him when he gets home. Who will teach him how to properly clean his wounds before he causes more harm than good. Who will teach him to cook and clean and take care of himself if not her--he's only a child. She wants to know who will keep him safe, and who will tell him that he is loved above all else.

Mikoto wants to know who will remind him that he is good enough when Itachi's shadow is much too heavy for him to bear.

Who will tell him, when he is thirteen, and as old as Itachi is now--who will tell him he will be a better man than Itachi ever could be? It's important that he know that. If he doesn't, she doesn't know what path he'll take and she's terrified.

Sasuke is a child. A child in the way that Itachi never was and she doesn't want Itachi's darkness to consume them both. She couldn't subdue it in her first son and now--there will be no one to make sure Sasuke doesn't one day follow where Itachi leads.

Mikoto realizes that she is grateful she will never live to see that day.