chapter:10 Hero of peace

Yana gently stroked Itachi's hair, her fingers gliding through the soft strands as his head rested on her lap. The warmth of her touch seemed to calm him, and the quiet of the night wrapped around them like a protective blanket. She looked down at him, her heart swelling with pride and affection, yet curiosity tugged at her thoughts.

"Itachi," she began softly, breaking the silence, "what kind of hero do you want to be?"

Itachi's eyes opened slowly, thoughtful and calm. He had already considered this question many times in his mind. He didn't need to think long. "I don't want to be a hero for money or fame," he said quietly, his voice carrying a maturity far beyond his years. "I like peace. So... I want to be a hero for peace."

Yana paused, letting his words sink in. Her chest swelled with pride, yet a quiet awe followed. At his age, most children spoke of wanting to be like their favorite heroes, inspired by grand battles and glory. But her son—her Itachi—was different. There was a calmness, a depth to him that was hard to put into words. She felt it every time she looked into his eyes, and now, hearing these words, she knew it even more.

She smiled softly, her voice tender. "A hero for peace... that's a beautiful answer, Itachi." She gently patted his head, her fingers brushing his temple. "Is that like All Might? He's the symbol of peace, after all."

Itachi's small body shifted slightly, and he turned his head just enough to look up at her, his dark eyes serious, reflecting a wisdom no four-year-old should have. "No, not like All Might."

Yana blinked in surprise. "But you know he's the one people look to for peace, don't you? He's loved by so many because he's their beacon of hope." She spoke gently, trying to understand what her son meant.

Itachi nodded, his expression calm yet firm. "I know, Mother. All Might is a great hero... but I don't want to be him."

Yana's eyes widened slightly, caught off guard by his response. "Then who do you want to be?" she asked, her voice soft but curious.

"I want to be Itachi Yaoyorozu, not All Might." His voice was resolute, steady, yet somehow filled with a quiet longing. There was no envy in his tone, no desire to follow in someone else's footsteps. It was clear he had already forged his own path, even at such a young age.

Yana's heart swelled. For a moment, she couldn't speak, the depth of his words washing over her. She understood now. He didn't just want to be a hero in the shadow of another; he wanted to carve his own identity, his own path to peace, and his own way of being a hero.

With a soft chuckle, she gently cupped his cheek, her eyes shining with admiration. "Are you really just four years old, Itachi?" she asked, her voice teasing but filled with warmth.

Itachi gave a small smile, that same knowing smile that often made her wonder just how much he really understood about the world. "Yeah," he replied simply, as if it were the most natural thing.

Yana exhaled a quiet laugh, her heart filled with both awe and pride. She gently kissed his forehead, lingering for a moment as she cradled his face. "You're going to be amazing, Itachi. Not because of a quirk, or because of what others think, but because of who you are. My dear will become a strong and handsome hero.!"

Itachi's smile softened, and though he didn't speak, the peace that settled in his chest was evident in the way he closed his eyes, resting again on his mother's lap. Her words, her touch, her unwavering belief in him—those were the things that mattered most.

Morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow across the room as Itachi slowly stirred from sleep. His dark eyes fluttered open, taking in the familiar surroundings. The warmth of his mother's presence from last night had already faded, and he immediately noticed she wasn't there. Sitting up slowly, he looked around the empty room, a sense of quietness settling in his chest.

She must have left early, he thought, his expression calm but with a faint hint of longing. The comforting touch of her hand on his head from the night before lingered in his memory. He sighed softly, allowing the peaceful moment to fade as he began to ready himself for the day ahead.

A gentle knock on the door pulled him from his thoughts. "Come in," he called out, his voice steady and composed.

The door creaked open, revealing Erika, her ever-kind smile lighting up the room as she entered, holding a steaming cup of coffee on a small tray. "Good morning, young master," she greeted, her tone warm and familiar.

Itachi smiled faintly, appreciating her kindness. "Good morning, Erika," he replied softly. His small hands reached for the cup, and as he took a sip, the rich, warm flavor of the coffee touched his senses, the slight bitterness balanced by just the right amount of sweetness. It wasn't often that he indulged in these little comforts, but today, it felt like a small ritual grounding him before the day began.

"How are you feeling this morning?" Erika asked, her voice gentle but curious, watching him with concern.

Itachi set the cup down, his smile remaining as calm as always. "I'm fine, Erika. Thank you." There was tranquility in his words, though the sharpness in his gaze hinted that his thoughts were already elsewhere, planning, thinking ahead.

Erika nodded, relieved by his response. "That's good to hear," she said, her eyes briefly glancing over him as if to ensure there were no hidden worries. Then she added with a soft chuckle, "You should get freshened up. Breakfast is ready, and it's not good to start your day on an empty stomach."