When Itachi placed the Anbu mission sheet on the table, he did not speak right away.
Uchiha Gen read the mission details first.
Privately verify the list of radicals within the clan.
There was no mission number.
No issuing officer.
No requirement to acknowledge receipt.
Even the word "Anbu" was written ambiguously, with only a worn internal identification stamp in the corner of the sheet.
After reading it, Gen did not ask whether Itachi wanted to accept.
He asked only, "Who gave you this?"
Itachi answered, "Someone left it in my locker during the Anbu shift change."
"Did you see anyone?"
"No."
"Who else received one at the same time?"
"Only me."
Uchiha Gen pushed the sheet back.
"Then it isn't a mission. It's a test."
Itachi's gaze remained calm, but he did not argue.
He even found those words jarring.
For a long time, he had been accustomed to interpreting such things as "trust."
The more people bypassed normal procedures to approach him, the more he felt he had to shoulder.
A genius.
Exceptionally suited to the Anbu.
Calmer than others his age.
Those assessments sounded like recognition, but once paired with an unnumbered mission, they became something else.
They could make a child mistakenly believe he was born to stand where there was no light.
In the past, he would have understood this as the Anbu placing their trust in him.
He was an Uchiha.
He was also being groomed for the Anbu.
Having him verify the list of radicals within the clan seemed perfectly reasonable.
But after what had happened to Shisui the night before, Itachi could no longer convince himself with the word "reasonable."
Shisui, too, had been "reasonably" asked to attend a private meeting.
The reason was to stop the Uchiha from making a mistake.