“It appears that it didn’t die.” Itachi leaned down and poked the thing with a finger.
“By all indications, this is a chick of the same species that we just turned to ash.
Odd.” The bird burst into flames and disappeared.
The three looked at each other.
“So, we have your son being invited to some school that teaches .
.
.” Kisame snickered.
“Magic.
And a bird that appears in a cloud of fire instead of smoke and doesn’t die when we kill the hell out of it.
Somehow, this feels about normal for us.”
“Unfortunately.”
“So .
.
.” said Hari.
“What do we tell Uncle Pein?”
“.
.
.” Itachi frowned.
“I have no idea.”
There was another burst of fire.
This time, all three just watched as the bird appeared, flapping its wings in a desperate attempt to hold itself aloft while carrying a letter bigger that itself.
Itachi formed a clone which took the letter from the bird.
It immediately dropped to the ground, panting.
Kisame watched as his teammate read the letter after his clone checked it.
At the same time, Hari was using a technique Kisame and Kakuzu had taught the boy to create some water for the bird to drink.
It was impressive progress, just a year ago, the kid would have turned the bird into a pile of bloody meat with that move.
His adoptive nephew (the kid had ended up growing on him) had so much power in his coils that it was always amazing that he was able to develop such control.
Kisame was actually a bit jealous.
“Hn.” Kisame looked at his partner.
That was unusual: Itachi rarely devolved into the famed Uchiha communication form.
It was one of his best traits.
“It appears that we will be having visitors soon who will be able to answer questions.”
“Yeah?”
“So it seems.”
The bird vanished and returned in two more explosions of fire.
This time, there were two people with it.
One of them had a comically long beard and a strange smile.
“Hello, my name is Albus Dumbledore.”
Three weeks later, Hari was back to his usual routine while waiting for the school year to start.
It had been an interesting meeting.
The middle-age lady (just out of cougar-years, according to Hidan) had stared at Kisame, first in horror and then in a sort of predatory fascination that had seriously disturbed the giant nukenin.
The man who introduced himself as Dumbledore had explained that they wanted Hari to attend the school his parents (Hari had been quick to interject that these were merely the sperm and egg donors, to Dumbledore’s quiet dismay) had attended and that in doing so, he would be able to learn how to wield magic.
His father had been unusually quick to agree, but perhaps he wanted to see what his son would learn.
His father had said it was something about spending time with people his own age or something like that, but Hari had taken it in stride; his father was a busy S-rank ninja and eventually would not be able to take care of him all the time, so learning extra skills could be useful.
He jumped straight into a double backflip, avoiding Air Pressure and Intelligent Hard Work (Uncle Kakuzu seriously needed someone to help him make up better names for his attacks) that turned the training field into a little pocket of hell.
Hari began something he’d been practicing for more than a year.
His hands blurred into signs, each working on a separate technique.
He spat a Water Trumpet at his uncle and tossed in False Darkness before landing and running for cover, using his Byakugan to keep an eye on the man while he conjured a Water Dragon and Earth Dragon to leap out at his uncle.
Moments later, he was forced to avoid False Darkness coming at him as one of Uncle Kakuzu’s hearts flanked him.
The Water heart was probably out there, too.
Joy.
Both hands worked on the same technique this time as he gathered chakra and fired off a move he’d created: an invisible dragon made of wind roared as it shot forwards, slamming into the Lightning heart.
“Shit.
DAAAD!”
Itachi was suddenly next to him.
“I just killed a heart.
Help!”
“Kakuzu!” Itachi headed straight for the ancient ninja.
“What?”
“I think we can call this spar.”
“Why?”
“My son just obliterated your heart.”
“He what?”
“Indeed.”
“Well shit.” Kakuzu recalled his hearts.
“Sonofa .
.
.
Hari!” He glared at the figure in the distance, which was poised to run.
“You killed my Lightning heart.
Do you have any idea how annoying that is to replace?”
“Uh .
.
.
heh heh?” Hari grinned sickly.
Kakuzu sighed.
“Good work, brat.” Then he was suddenly in front of Hari and punched him in the face.
“When you wake up .
.
.
eh.
I’ve got nothing.
I’ve got a heart to replace, see you Itachi.” He walked off, muttering curses.
Itachi walked over and poked his son.
Apparently he really was knocked out.
Oh well.
He scooped up his son and carried him back to the tower.
When Hari woke up, his father was sitting by his bed.
“So, I’ve decided you should go a bit early.
It will be good for you to have time to get used to the place you’ll be spending time.
Besides, it will give Kakuzu enough time to cool off.
“They left us a thing they called a ‘portkey’ they said would take you there.
You can handle yourself.
Think of this as a vacation.
Try not to attract too much attention, like I’ve taught you.
In other words, don’t be Uncle Hidan.
Or Uncle Kisame.
Or Uncle Deidara.
You know something: just be me or Uncle Sasori.
In control, in other words.”
A week later, Hari had managed to do his shopping, a good bit of learning, and made a shopping list he intended to fill before going home.
The library had been full of fascinating books.
He was truly in awe.
He also had a trunk filled with random books that had looked interesting.