<a class="link link--external" data-proxy-href="/proxy.php?link=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DS5cHBB9tVos%26list%3DPLKBkfDnitcXz2xQYpXek3eqNG549sL-FB%26index%3D26&amp;hash=27a669da80c6d765743ddb3beb898d55" href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S5cHBB9tVos&amp;list=PLKBkfDnitcXz2xQYpXek3eqNG549sL-FB&amp;index=26" rel="nofollow ugc noopener" target="_blank"><u>Mood music</u></a><br/><br/>The knock on the door didn't disturb the young and training eldest Uchiha son, despite the fact that he was well aware of his surroundings. He was training himself every moment of every day, after all, to grow used to shifting and ever changing surroundings. He knew that at any moment, things could take a turn for the worse, even if he wasn't expecting it or things got violent during peacetime in their precious village hidden in the leaves.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#99ffcc">"Hmmm?"</span>, an older voice hummed in response to the knock, which Itachi had also heard loud and clear.<br/><br/>The voice had belonged to his elderly grandmother, who had been rocking back and forth in another room alone as she plucked at an old, worn out string instrument. When she realized someone was at the door she gingerly placed the instrument down on the floor, leaning it against her chair, and carefully pushed herself up. She then carefully started walking through the home with oddly strong steps for a woman her age.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#99ffcc">"Coming!"</span>, she called out to the door as Itachi continued to train in their wide open living room that was connected to their foyer, though their living room had actually been styled more as an arena that he and his father had been training since he was a boy.<br/><br/>In the middle of the room was a log about four feet tall and two feet wide. It was planted directly in the center of the little arena on the matted floor, and on top of that log Itachi was balanced atop one arm, palm planted flat against the surface of the wood post. His other hand was raised in front of his hand, middle and index finger pointed down towards the floor, though up towards the bottom of his chin. It appeared to be a half symbol that ninja would make during combat while preparing to use a skill, though here it was only employed for added balance during his session of training.<br/><br/>His hair was up in a ponytail, though at the moment it was dangling down towards the floor above his head, and his shirtless upper body was sweating lightly as his other arm continued to remain as still as he could force it to be. There was the lightest of trembles still, every now and again, for he was just a man after all, though no one would have known for the look on his calm face, eyes closed, mouth shut and expression void of emotion. As soon as the door opened he knew who it was, however. Her scent was unmistakable and her presence even more obvious than any other. She was so harsh with her steps, not very ladylike despite her attempts to be feminine. She was strong, bold and hardheaded just like the Hokage, which was perhaps the most appealing thing about her. She was unlike most other women, far stronger and less apt to sit around asking questions or hesitate. She had a willingness to act instead of freeze up or panic, which was admirable to say the least, but no matter how much her effort she put into her feminine side he was able to see through all of it with his gifts. He knew her for something more than the grand average.<br/><br/>A pair of crimson orbs finally blinked open as the door opened and grandmother Uchiha welcomed their guest.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#99ffcc">"Well hello there, Sakura."</span>, she said as she stepped back and offered her entry.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#99ffcc"> "I hope you're not here for Saske... I'm afraid he and Naruto ran off to that tournament that they're holding in the village hidden in the sand."</span>, she said, shaking her head lightly as she raised her hand and gently placed it over her lips, looking a little concerned for the young, pink haired girl. She'd hated that the bright young stars of the village hidden in the leaves had run off like that without bothering to tell anyone else. Especially someone who had been planning to come and visit them.<br/><br/>All the while that she spoke to Sakura there was a few quick motions going on in the little living room arena behind her. Itachi had slowly lowered himself down and turned himself upright, now seated in a proper sitting position, one leg crossed over the other before he leaned back and propped himself up with either of his hands, which were gripping the edge of the log behind him.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#4da6ff">"I expect she'll live through the depression they've caused her, grandmother..."</span>, Itachi said, his deep voice carrying in something just a little louder than a whisper across the room as he watched them both with an indifferent look upon his face.<br/><br/><div style="text-align: center"><script class="js-extraPhrases" type="application/json">
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