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Amakusa Misaki had seen a lot of things in her twenty two years of life. She’d been a shinobi for over a decade; was four years into a black ops career. She had weathered a war in her adolescence, and she had seen and caused and been all too close to death far too many times to count over the years. Violence was just the way of things by now, rote and easy to handle—at least when she was in uniform. Compartmentalizing was far simpler when she could tuck all of her feelings away and just be Mouse.
And yet, despite the heft of ANBU-issue armor on her shoulders, standard katana between her shoulder blades, the white and red mask covering her face, right now she didn’t feel like Mouse. Right now it was impossible to force back the horror welling up inside of her as she surveyed the scene that had been left behind in the Uchiha Compound. Because it was horrifying, all the more so because she had known—had liked, had trusted—the one who‘d done it. Had called him her comrade, her friend.
He could be called neither of those now.
(Uchiha Itachi was a traitor.)
The compound seemed unnaturally still, even with the awareness of other ANBU roving the streets. Silent as the grave it might as well have been. There were so very many bodies. Too many of them small and fragile and she—she couldn’t—
(What had she missed what could she have done what had gone wrong—)
Mouse swallowed down the bile in her throat. The July heat pressed into her on all sides. She breathed through it.
An arm brushed against hers, and she didn’t need to turn her head to know it was Wolf. She inclined her head just slightly in return, feeling just a bit of the tension leaving her frame as she remembered to unclench her teeth.
They had only just been returning from a two-man mission when Cat intercepted them with word of the slaughter. She almost hadn’t believed him at first—the Uchiha were numerous, largely shinobi, one of the founding clans of the village—how could they all be gone, in one night no less? But the black ops division did not suffer misinformation, and even beneath the mask Tenzou was neither tasteless enough to peddle such a lie nor gullible enough to believe one. Which meant it had to be true.
Wolf had only paused for a fraction of a second before changing direction and heading swiftly for the clan compound. Mouse had fallen into step half a beat behind automatically, still trying to process the news. They were both already tired from both the mission and return trip, but they were also ANBU, the village’s most elite protectors. They went where they were needed and they did what needed to be done.
(ANBU Weasel was a traitor.)
They went where they were needed, but they were too late for the Uchiha. Crouched on the rooftop of a house now completely devoid of life, Mouse wasn’t sure if it was better or worse that the two hadn’t even been in the village while it was happening. From the barely-contained aura of roiling emotion that belied Wolf’s deceptively steady posture, she thought he might be wondering the same.
(How had it gone unnoticed until the deed was finished, he had always been a prodigy but he was only one person, it didn’t make sense—)
(Misaki had known more Uchiha than just Itachi. Some of them she had already seen, lying dead in pools of their own blood.)
(Traitor.
When you were already a murderer, weren’t your loyalties all you had left?)
She looked to the sky. Sunrise was still a bit away, the blue hour soon to be upon them. Konoha would be waking, and it would wake forever changed. No hidden village was without its own darkness, they all knew far better than that, but this was...
Well. Despite the other ANBU already on the scene, there were a lot of bodies yet to be taken care of. That said something all on its own.
Taking a deep breath, Mouse ignored the familiar scents of blood and old fear, tried to pretend that this was just like any other mission—that this hadn’t happened in her home, that it hadn’t happened to people she was meant to protect, that it hadn’t been done by someone they’d all trusted in a betrayal of not just village but family—and then she moved. Beside her, Wolf moved in tandem.
Stillness was a luxury for later. There was still work to be done, after all.
(In the end, Yuugao had been the first and only one to come across a survivor: Uchiha Sasuke, the little brother that Misaki had once been certain of Itachi’s devotion to. Now she couldn’t even say if leaving him alive was meant to be a blessing or a curse.
Stillness was only a luxury when you didn’t have to be alone in it.)