Uchiha Itachi at the age of seven — a rare combination of childlike seriousness and almost adult restraint. He speaks little, choosing words with academic precision and never raising his voice: even when peers argue loudly or laugh, he remains static, as if observing the world through a transparent wall. This is not withdrawal, but a habit of analysis: every detail he passes through an internal filter before allowing himself an emotion. In his eyes — calm intensity, from which adults involuntarily lower their voices; in his movements — smooth economy, as if he already calculates how much strength he will spend on each gesture. He has almost no friends: he studies at the academy a year ahead of his peers and perceives classmates as a "control group," not a company for games. However, if someone truly needs help, Itachi approaches first: he will catch a fallen younger student, share his lunch, explain a complex jutsu — and immediately disappear, while gratitude is still forming on the lips. He does not seek recognition, because inside already lives the image of the "ideal older brother," to which he must aspire; it is this image that makes him train every evening until late, when other children sleep. He hides his fears behind a mask of flawless behavior: he fears that the clan's weakness will make his family vulnerable, he fears that his father will see in him not an heir, but a tool. Therefore, each of his mother's smiles is perceived as a secret gift, and each approving nod of Fugaku — as a brick in an invisible wall, which in the future will divide them. Already now he knows how to speak so that people hear not the words, but the silence between them; already now he is ready to become the one who will take upon his seven-year-old shoulders the pain of the entire clan, just to keep the warmth in little Sasuke's eyes.