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Sasuke’s in the hall across from the laboratory, ready to get Orochimaru for his next training session when he hears it.
“Explode.”
The word is just a word. But from the way the world reacts to it, it seems to contain the very meaning of life itself. It forces itself into existence, fighting against the fabric of reality to come into being. And come into being it does.
He barely manages to stay on his feet, dodging the brick and stone that go sailing by to collide into the adjacent wall. What used to be the lab… Well, it’s been reduced to a giant crater with smoking bits of rubble and concrete scattered around the hideout’s floor. And where Orochimaru used to be…
Sasuke has seen a lot of nasty things these past few years. He can’t escape it, not with a mad scientist like Orochimaru as his master. But the twitching pieces of pink flesh, squirming intestines and splattered bone shards are truly disgusting. He steps gingerly over the slowly reforming hunks of flesh. While he could go and kill the intruder, seeing Orochimaru temporarily splattered is giving him some small measure of sadistic joy. He’ll wait it out, then, and only step in if he has to.
Besides, the fight can’t take that long. The intruder is clearly good, one has to be in order to cause that level of damage. But Orochimaru has gained his fearful reputation for a reason. He’s near immortal and ridiculously difficult to kill. Sasuke would know; he sees all the failed attempts and what becomes of them afterwards. And while he has some ideas, they rely on very specific circumstances and his Sharingan, two things the intruder does not have.
And as much as Sasuke wishes Orochimaru dead, he unfortunately hasn’t learned everything he needs to learn in order to face Itachi. Orochimaru holds some use to him still. So he gets to live up until the body transfer.
The reforming hunks melt into a taller body, slowly inching their way upwards and forming a neck, a chin, a face.
Orochimaru laughs. “A delightful attempt. A kekkei-genkai, is it? Very unique. I’ll be sure to take a good look at it when we finish.”
There’s a short pause. A gasp, like the intruder is trying to catch their breath.
This won’t take long now. Sasuke crosses his arms and leans against the less destroyed portion of the wall. He hopes Orochimaru’s good mood at discovering a special kekkei-genkai will translate into teaching something actually useful this training session.
“That’s a lot of blood,” Orochimaru says idly. “But come, now. Don’t give up yet.”
The sound of slithering scales on tile. The sharp ring of fangs unleashed.
“Die,” the intruder gasps.
The word reverberates through the air. Sasuke’s hand goes to his sword, but his arm is shaky, trembling with the strain of fighting with the world for his own existence. His head is fuzzy. His ears are ringing.
What just happened?
For just a second, he blacks out. When he comes to, he’s sitting on the rubble, pointy pieces of stone digging into his pants. What just- what is-?
He clambers to his feet and draws his sword. He can still feel the pressure from the single spoken word pressing down on him, but now his chakra is flooding back through his limbs, renewing his strength. He staggers forward, slowly feeling stronger and steadier with every step he takes.
That attack was far more devastating than the last. And while he had previously been content to sit back and let Orochimaru handle it, he can’t hear his master anymore. The only sound he can hear is the wet coughs and heavy rasping breaths of the intruder. There are no patronizing comments, no laughter. No hissing, no rasp of steel against flesh.
Is Orochimaru really… dead?
He takes the last leap in a single bound, flushing chakra through his legs. The rocks crumble beneath his feet as he rounds the corner, about to catch his first glimpse of the intruder. Sasuke expects to see an S class nin. Someone tall. Old, experienced. Probably with unique marks, fit for someone belonging to a clan possessing such a special kekkei-genkai. Intimidating stature, deadly sharp eyes. They’d be well built and commanding, thrumming with power.
What he sees… isn’t that.
Hunched over on the ground, next to Orochimaru’s bleeding and unmoving body is a teenage boy. He’s muscled but small, doubled over and spitting blood onto the shattered glass beakers beneath his palms. Shaggy white hair falls over his eyes, and his long sleeved all-black outfit is rumpled and dirty. There’s signs of dark markings surrounding his lips, circular and strange, but apart from that, nothing about him is what Sasuke expected. He had thought the attacker would be an old missing nin. This boy is perhaps a year older than Sasuke, and he doesn’t even have a hitai-ate, crossed out or otherwise.
Orochimaru is still lying motionless. His eyes are dull and unfocused.
In one smooth motion, Sasuke crosses the distance, flashing across the stones. He uses his highly trained speed to its fullest, sword a blur as he slashes through the air to lay it flat against the back of the boy’s neck. But it seems he used his speed for nothing. The boy doesn’t make any move to defend himself, still on his knees, coughing up blood into the rubble.
Sasuke prods him a bit, pushing down with the flat of his blade. The boy weakly tries to shift away, but ends up collapsing, glass shards biting further into his palms.
This is the person who has just killed Orochimaru? There’s no way.
“Did you kill Orochimaru?” Sasuke demands. Maybe the man is just in hibernation, biding his time to come back and take his snakey revenge. In hibernation, bleeding and unconscious and not breathing whatsoever. It’s possible.
The boy gasps wetly, more blood spilling out from between his teeth. A gurgling noise sounds from deep in his throat.
It’s not just gurgling he can hear though. From far away, Sasuke’s ears pick up the creaking sounds of iron doors. Although this part of the lab is generally abandoned, other people have clearly heard the explosion. Sasuke will bet anything that Kabuto is on his way right now.
And if Orochimaru is really dead, he certainly won’t be happy. He’d try to kill or torture the one responsible, and from what Sasuke can see, the boy is currently in no shape to defend himself. If he truly killed Orochimaru, then he can kill with a word, but it clearly has consequences.
But. He can kill with a word. Sasuke’s mind seizes on it and doesn’t let go. However, there’s no time to think. Kabuto is coming. What should Sasuke do?
He marches up to Orochimaru’s corpse and stabs it through with his sword. No reaction. Dead. He’s definitely dead.
And if he’s definitely dead, that means the boy can really and truly kill with a single word. He says die, and his target is dead. Off the plane of existence forever.
Sasuke can’t let that go.
“You killed Orochimaru,” Sasuke hisses, leaning over the boy’s slumped over form. “They’re going to come for you now. Can you move?”
The boy blinks up at him, pain and exhaustion emanating from his tired gaze.
So that’s a no. What to do? What to do?
No time. Sasuke kneels down and heaves the boy’s arm around his shoulders. He tries to shift, but Sasuke stands, trapping him against his back. “You can’t fight,” he says sharply. “Kabuto’s on his way, and he’s going to kill you. If you’re lucky. If you come with me and do me a favour, I’ll keep you alive.”
The boy’s weak struggles cease. He coughs again, then deflates, resting his chin on Sasuke’s shoulder. Sasuke’s shirt crinkles with the pressure of the faint nod.
That’s enough for him. Either way, Sasuke needs to get out here. He has no reason to stick around if no one’s here to teach him anything. And he certainly doesn’t want to stay and help with the cleanup.
Sasuke readjusts his hold on the limp teen and runs.
--
Sasuke’s making good progress to a town a fair distance out when the teen comes back to consciousness. He had passed out shortly after they’d left the base, which Sasuke was vaguely thankful for. Unconscious was better than the previous hacking coughs sending sticky phlegm and fluids dribbling down his collar. But now he’s awake again. Sasuke slows to a halt and sets the boy down against a tree.
“Can you talk?” Sasuke questions. He needs to interrogate him. He grips his sword tightly as a precaution.
The boy makes to speak, but the sounds that come out are gargled and incomprehensible. He clutches his throat and spits more red fluid onto the forest floor.
Sasuke scowls. “Wait here.”
He moves quickly so the boy can’t take off, even though he’s clearly still injured. He wouldn’t be able to get far. Still, Sasuke sprints to the river, filling his bottle with fresh, clear water before sprinting back.
The boy is still slumped at the base of the tree.
“Drink,” Sasuke commands, shoving the bottle at him.
He takes it with trembling hands, bringing it up and pouring the cool water down his throat. It must help, because when he next looks up, his eyes are a bit brighter and his face has slightly more colour.
“Can you talk now?” Sasuke repeats. “Who are you?”
The water bottle lowers, sloshing liquid over the side. The boy clears his throat, wiping the back of his hand over his lips. Without all the blood stains, the markings are more visible. Two small circles on either side of his mouth, with lines pointing towards his lips and a dot in the middle of each.
He lifts a hand weakly and speaks, voice coming out raspy and gutted. “Kelp.”
Say that again?
“Kelp.” Sasuke says incredulously. “Your name is Kelp.”
The boy shakes his head then groans, hands coming up to clutch his skull. “Bonito flakes,” he says.
“Bonito Flakes. That’s even worse.”
He had thought Naruto was bad. Because being named after ramen toppings wasn’t enough, apparently. Now they have people named after onigiri ingredients too.
But that’s hardly important right now. “Why did you kill Orochimaru?” Sasuke demands.
“Bonito flakes,” Bonito Flakes repeats. His voice is still all choked up. He moves to lift the water bottle back to his lips, but Sasuke cuts him off.
“That’s not an answer. Why did you kill him? How did you kill him? Answer me, Bonito Flakes.”
He feels like a fool as soon as the ridiculous name passes his lips, but if it gets him his answers then it doesn’t matter.
Bonito Flakes mimes something, wiggling his hand through the air.
Also not an answer. Sasuke glares in warning.
“Caviar,” Bonito Flakes exclaims, irritation colouring his tone.
Well, Sasuke’s irritated too. That isn’t an answer, it’s just listing random onigiri ingredients. Is he just trying to waste Sasuke’s time? He glowers down at the boy and grabs his sword.
Bonito Flakes hisses in frustration. “Bonito flakes,” he repeats slowly, pointing to his mouth then bringing his arms up to form a big ‘X’. He crosses them firmly, then he repeats his earlier motion again, the wiggly one. It’s like he’s… writing.
He’s pretending to write. So, he can’t talk normally? But then why is he still able to spew out all those onigiri ingredients?
“You want a pen?” Sasuke asks. He doesn’t have one. Writing tools were not high on his list of things to bring while fleeing an exploded base and the death of Orochimaru.
“Salmon,” Bonito Flakes says in relief, nodding his head.
Salmon. Right. Still not helpful.
Sasuke crosses his arms. “I don’t have a pen. And why would you need one? You can clearly talk.”
“Bonito flakes,” he says, crossing his arms again.
That’s a no. He can’t talk? Salmon and bonito flakes. Hm.
“Bonito flakes means no.” Sasuke deduces. “So salmon means yes?”
“Salmon!” The boy nods his head more vigorously this time.
That means he can only ask yes or no questions, which makes things a bit difficult, but Sasuke can make do for now. “You’re going to answer all my questions,” Sasuke orders. “And when we get to the next town I’ll give you a proper interrogation.”
“Spicy cod roe,” the boy mutters.
“I said,” Sasuke repeats forcefully, “You’re going to answer all my questions. Understood?”
“Salmon, salmon,” Bonito Flakes says, rolling his eyes.
Good enough for him. Time to get into it. What he really wants to know is why the teen came to kill Orochimaru, but that’s not something he can ask outright. So instead…
“Did you kill Orochimaru for revenge?”
If he's not from any hidden village and went out of his way to attack Orochimaru in his own base, that’s the only logical conclusion Sasuke can draw.
“Bonito flakes,” the boy responds.
“Did you kill him for his bounty?”
“Bonito flakes.”
Sasuke nearly throws up his hands. “Then why would you decide to go and kill him directly in his own lab?” He pauses. “Were you a test subject?” Sasuke doesn’t recognize the boy, but it’s possible.
“Bonito flakes,” the boy exclaims, looking thoroughly alarmed.
“A missing nin?”
“Bonito flakes.”
“Then who the hell are you and what were you doing there?” Sasuke’s fairly fed up at this point and is gesturing heatedly with his sword.
“Mustard leaf,” the boy mutters, eyeing the sword with concern.
“Mustard leaf,” Sasuke snarls, whipping his sword back. “Maybe if you would say something other than your stupid onigiri ingredients, we could actually figure this out.” He claws at the straps of his pack and goes through the motions of digging through it even though he already knows there’s no pen inside.
“Tuna tuna,” Bonito Flakes says, catching Sasuke’s attention.
He looks up to see him pointing at his lips again. He opens his mouth as if to indicate speaking, then points at Sasuke. The next motion he makes is a rather concerning one. He puts his hands together then bursts them forcefully outwards.
An explosion.
Sasuke squints. “If you say anything else, then I’ll explode?”
Bonito Flakes wiggles his hand from side to side. “Salmon,” he responds, with some hesitation.
That… actually made sense. Sasuke recalls Orochimaru’s smoking bits of flesh and realizes he’d probably have a much harder time recovering from that. It’s nice that Bonito Flakes doesn’t want to make him explode. Or rather, he can’t make him explode right now. From his exhausted demeanour and wrecked throat, it’s clear another use of his kekkei-genkai might actually kill him.
Still not helpful for interrogation though.
At least he can get his most important question answered. “Your kekkei-genkai,” Sasuke says intensely. “You can kill people with a single word.”
Bonito Flakes winces. “…Salmon,” he says slowly.
Sasuke watches his expressions like a hawk. He’s being truthful. Bonito Flakes can do it. He can really do it. One word, and they’re gone forever.
“How close do you need to be? Can you do it from a distance?”
“Salmon,” he says again. The word drips with hesitance. “Mustard leaf?”
“And how long do you need to recover? Could you do it again in two weeks? In a week?” The words come rushing out of his mouth with no thought given to the sound of his desperation.
“Tuna,” Bonito Flakes says firmly, before cocking his head.
Sasuke catches himself. “Never mind,” he says roughly. “This is over. I want better answers once we get a pen from the next town.” He pushes himself up and starts packing up his things.
Bonito Flakes tries to stand up as well, staggering and clutching onto the trunk for balance. He sighs and sits back down, idly zipping up his collar. It’s a high neck collar, one that goes all the way past his mouth, clearly meant to cover up his clan facial markings. But it also sparks familiarity in Sasuke.
Nobody wears that style of shirt anymore. Nobody except for Sasuke, because everyone else who used to wear it is dead. They’re all dead and their killer is still out there.
“…Mustard leaf?” Bonito Flakes asks. His voice sounds almost gentle.
Sasuke turns away. He doesn’t really care about the shirt. It just looks stupid on him, that’s all. “Let’s go,” he says shortly. “If we stay here too long, they’ll catch up.”
He grabs the canteen and heaves Bonito Flakes back over his shoulders before starting to sprint away once more.
--
The civilian woman manning the stall looks confused when Sasuke emerges from the woods asking for a pen and paper.
Sasuke sneers. It’s pen and paper. There’s nothing confusing about it.
Civilians.
Over his shoulder, Bonito Flakes’ stomach growls. Sasuke grumbles and starts scouring through his pouch for the ration bars. Bonito Flakes had unfortunately been awake the whole run over, which was a pity for Sasuke, who much preferred the other boy unconscious. He was much less annoying that way. Instead, he filled the time chattering about salmon roe and tuna mayo. It had taken Sasuke an unreasonable amount of effort to try and tune him out, and even then he hadn’t quite succeeded.
“Is this fine?” The civilian asks, clutching an old chewed up pen.
“Salmon,” Sasuke responds absentmindedly, still looking for the ration bars, then promptly wants to die.
“… I’m sorry?” The lady looks positively bewildered.
Sasuke snatches the pen and paper and walks away. “Shut up,” he tells Bonito Flakes, who is sniggering into his stupid high necked collar.
“Bonito flakes,” he says cheerfully.
“Shut up.”
Sasuke walks over to a bench and sits down pointedly next to the table. He thrusts the writing instruments at the boy. “So. Tell me why you killed Orochimaru.”
Bonito Flakes obligingly picks up the pen. His handwriting is crisp and smooth across the paper. “Not killed,” it reads. “Exorcised.”
Exorcised? “What the hell does that mean?”
Fabric shifts as Bonito Flakes eyes him consideringly. “Exorcism = how you get rid of curses,” he finally writes.
Sasuke scoffs. “Orochimaru isn’t a curse. He’s just like that.”
“Strong curse energy + inhuman + regeneration = curse.”
He’s clearly delusional. But it’s no problem of Sasuke’s. He’s met weirder people.
“But you can do it again?” He reiterates. “You can exorcise anyone you want?”
“Exorcisms are super difficult against powerful opponents,” Bonito Flakes writes. “Hardly ever use that command because it can kill me.”
“But it worked this time,” Sasuke argues. “You just need time to recover. When could you use it again?”
Bonito Flakes makes a face. “Could probably do some small commands in a few days. Nothing big for a while.”
For a while. But at some point, he’ll be able to do it again.
More scribbling against the paper. Bonito Flakes finishes and rotates it back around. “Why??”
That is the question, isn’t it? Sasuke’s heart is pounding. He steels his feet against the floor to keep his legs from shaking.
When he finally speaks, his voice is as cool and collected as he can make it. “I need you to help me kill someone.”
Saying Sasuke has strong feelings about killing Itachi is very much an understatement. He imagines it with every breath, dreams about it each night. Kakashi had warned him against revenge consuming his life, but he knows it and accepts it. He hates Itachi with everything he has, and Sasuke wants to see him suffer. When he kills him, he wants to be close enough to see the light leaving his eyes, feel those final choked breaths, and see understanding dawn across his face that it was Sasuke who did this. Sasuke, who was finally strong enough to end him for good.
But unfortunately, Sasuke isn’t strong enough. It burns, but he can admit it. Facing that man now will probably just put him straight back into a coma. He did learn from his previous failed attempt. And while he’s definitely improved since leaving Konoha, he still has a long way to go before reaching Itachi’s level. Bonito Flakes killed Orochimaru before Sasuke could fully complete his training, and even the new jutsus he’s been working on are not anywhere near fully mastered.
If he wants to kill Itachi himself, and he does, oh, he truly does, he needs to find another master. Someone strong enough to be capable of teaching him deadly techniques, and willing enough to just hand them to him. People like that come in extremely short supply. The truly strong missing-nin are part of the Akatsuki, and there’s no way he’s joining the same organization as Itachi. He could try for a different village, but he’d most likely just be thrown in T&I. And if he went so far as to go crawling back to Konoha…
They wouldn’t accept him back. He’s sure of it. With the way he left? There’s no way. And if they did accept him, it would only be to put him in a cell. Besides, Kakashi isn’t even a good teacher. The only thing he learned was the Chidori, and while it was definitely a powerful jutsu, it was the only jutsu Kakashi had taught him. His progress had just been so sickeningly slow. He was wasting away there, with no way to learn fast enough to defeat Itachi.
Sasuke’s also not sure his pride could take it. It would be absolutely humiliating to go back and beg for lessons.
But. Sasuke takes a deep breath, and focuses on the cool air flowing through his lungs. That’s not the point. He’s not the point.
Sasuke’s purpose was to live and die for his clan. His very being was made for revenge. But revenge for his own sake, as so many people accused him of? That’s not the point.
The point is his clan. Every mother and father, every grandparent and child. Every innocent slaughtered, so cruelly cut down just so Itachi could challenge himself. It’s revenge for them, that’s what matters. Itachi needs to die. Itachi needs to die in order to finally put them all to rest. And because nobody else will do it, it’s Sasuke’s responsibility to make sure that the murderer of his clan doesn’t survive unpunished.
No one else is going after Itachi. They’re too scared, or too incapable, so they let him roam free and forget about the atrocity he committed. When they tell him to forget about revenge? They’re telling him to forget about his clan. Forget about all the lives that are no longer here because of him. No one cares about the Uchiha clan anymore, no one except for Sasuke.
And for so long, Sasuke was convinced. Itachi needed to die. And Sasuke was the one who had to do it.
One of those statements is still true. And as for the other?
Sasuke wants to kill him. Sasuke so badly wants to kill him. But if the choices are outsourcing it to another or trying and failing due to his own weakness… Sasuke can’t fail. Itachi needs to die. He knows that. And a boy with a kekkei-genkai giving him the ability to kill anyone with one word alone has just dropped straight into his lap.
He’d be a fool and a stain on his clan if he didn’t take the opportunity handed directly to him.
So now he has it. All he needs is for Bonito Flakes to agree, and Itachi will soon be dead. His family will finally be at peace.
“Will you do it?” Sasuke pushes. His hands are clenched into fists to hide his trembling fingers. “Will you kill him?”
Bonito Flakes pauses. “Exorcise?” He writes cautiously.
“Kill. Exorcise. Whatever. Will you do it?”
His eyes widen. “Bonito flakes,” he states firmly. He scribbles another sentence down on the paper. “I don’t kill people.”
“You killed Orochimaru,” Sasuke says heatedly. He’s standing now, palms braced against the table. “Besides. I saved your life. You owe me.”
Bonito Flakes jabs at the previous sentence again and underlines it twice. “I don’t kill people.”
“You’re still weak,” Sasuke threatens. If Bonito Flakes won’t agree, Sasuke will make him agree. “When Kabuto and his team get here, and they will, you won’t be able to defend yourself. But if you help me- I’ve helped protect you this far, and I can continue to do so. You owe me, Bonito Flakes.”
Bonito Flakes regards him warily. “Spicy cod roe,” he mutters darkly. He grabs the paper one more time. “I’ll come with you. Will consider. More details needed.”
“I’ll explain later,” Sasuke promises, pushing back from the table. “When it’s time.”
“Salmon cod roe,” Bonito Flakes interrupts, tapping at a last message in the far right corner. “Not Bonito Flakes. Name is Inumaki Toge.”
“Inumaki,” Sasuke says, with some small measure of relief. Much better than Bonito Flakes. “We’re going. But first, we have to find him. And for that, we’ll need a certain tracker.”
Sasuke turns his eyes towards the south. It’s about time to pay the Southern Hideout a visit.
--
They don’t have to venture inside the Southern Hideout because Karin’s already waiting at the door. She’s clearly sensed them coming. Further proof of her sensory skills, which is good. That’s exactly what he needs right now.
Karin greets him with fluttering lashes and pouting lips, just as he expected. “Hi, Sasuke!” She sidles up to him quickly and he has to step away.
“Karin,” he grunts.
What isn’t expected is how quickly her attention slides from him to Inumaki. She nearly pushes straight past him in her haste to get right up in Inumaki’s face.
“Who are you?” She growls, jabbing him in the chest.
“Kelp,” Inumaki says brightly, lifting a hand in greeting.
“He’s not named Kelp,” Sasuke says preemptively. “His name is Inumaki Toge. He’s here for the same reason I intend to recruit you.”
“Inumaki,” Karin seethes. Her tone is not any less hostile. “I’ve never felt chakra like yours before. It’s all grief and fear and anger… I can feel it all. It’s not normal. It’s disgusting.”
Inumaki tips his head. “Tuna mayo,” he says contemplatively.
“Enough,” Sasuke interrupts. “Look, Karin. I need your help.”
“My help?” Karin turns away from Inumaki. Her tone goes from heated to sickeningly sweet in an instant. “You know you can come to me for anything, Sasuke-kun.”
“Can you track Itachi?”
“I can track anyone,” Karin boasts.
“Good. Will you join me on my journey to kill Itachi?”
She crosses her arms. “That’s more than just a little favour. Why should I come with you? Orochimaru-sama only just put me in charge of this base, you know. I have responsibilities. I can’t just leave.”
“Orochimaru is dead,” Sasuke informs her bluntly.
“What?”
“He was killed a couple days ago. The main base is in chaos, and Kabuto is most likely trying to assume control, but I doubt he will succeed completely. You no longer have any responsibilities.”
“He was killed? By who? How?”
Sasuke gestures at the boy standing behind him. “Inumaki did it. He has a special kekkei-genkai that will be very useful for killing Itachi.”
Karin squints at Inumaki suspiciously. “You killed him? You don’t look like much. But your chakra is monstrous, so I guess I could see it.” She shivers. “You make me sick.”
“Salmon,” Inumaki says. “Mustard leaf?”
“And why is he only speaking in onigiri ingredients?” Karin demands.
“It’s because of his kekkei-genkai,” Sasuke explains. “He can use his speech to cause certain effects but it’s very dangerous so he has to limit it.”
“Yeah, sure. But why onigiri?”
Sasuke pauses. “I actually… don’t know.” They both turn as one to look at Inumaki who gives them a big thumbs up.
“Tuna tuna!” He chirps, like an utter asshole.
Karin scowls. “Yeah, screw you too.”
Sasuke shifts impatiently. “Are you coming, then?” While he could probably scramble around on a slow hunt across the Elemental Nations trying to pin down Itachi’s location, Karin’s abilities would allow her to find him easily. And with his solution at hand and the end so near in sight, he doesn’t want to waste a single moment. Besides, once the news of Orochimaru’s death starts spreading, Konoha will be bound to send another team after him. He needs to move fast so nothing gets in his way.
Karin sniffs. “I suppose I could come along then. But do we really need Inumaki? It could be just me and you, alone together… He looks injured anyway. It would be much faster if we just left him behind.” She tips her head, eyes locked on his, and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.
“Inumaki is necessary,” Sasuke says sharply. “You will both be members of Team Taka.”
“Salmon roe?” Inumaki says skeptically, raising an eyebrow.
“Team Taka?” Karin repeats, clearly on the same line of thought.
Sasuke colours. They’re a team, right? And teams need team names. That’s just how it goes. “It’s the hawk that kills the snake. Now that Orochimaru has been killed, we’re free to pursue our own objectives. Hawks are hunters, and it’s time to hunt down the greatest snake of all.”
The snake who lay hidden for so long before stabbing his own clan in the back. The one who deceived them, betrayed them. Because it had all just been a cruel pretense. None of it was real. The snake who had pretended to love his clan. The snake who had pretended to love him.
“Wow, Sasuke-kun…” Karin breathes, eyes sparkling.
“Spicy cod roe!” Inumaki cheers, pumping a hand in the air. He brings his arm down and sticks it out towards them, palm face down, before looking at Sasuke expectantly.
Sasuke furrows his brow in confusion, before realization dawns. He immediately scowls. “No.”
“Salmon,” Inumaki says encouragingly, wiggling his fingers at Sasuke.
Karin smacks his hand out of the air. “Don’t be an idiot! We don’t need a stupid team cheer! And even if we had one, I’d never do it with you!”
“Tuna,” Inumaki says sadly, cradling his hand to his chest.
Sasuke rolls his eyes. “Let’s go.”
The wind whistles through his hair as they make their way down the rocks. It smells like a promise. It smells like vengeance. The ghosts of the Uchihas whisper in his ear. Soon, they say, hushed and breathless. Soon, Sasuke, soon.
--
“Will you two just shut up!”
Karin and Inumaki have been arguing throughout the whole trip, and it’s slowly driving Sasuke insane. He had somehow assumed that it would be difficult for a guy who could only speak in onigiri ingredients to argue. He was wrong.
“Tuna mayo!” Inumaki replies.
Karin smacks him over the head. “He just told you to be quiet! Can you not listen as well as not talk?”
“Tuna tuna,” Inumaki protests, staring at her pointedly.
Sasuke clenches his teeth and mentally congratulates himself on not strangling them both. “Look, we’re almost there. We need a plan for how to deal with him.”
The plan is mostly to get Inumaki in there and let him do his thing, but Sasuke definitely intends to be there as well. He can still question Itachi and make him regret his actions, and then just get Inumaki to come in from behind for the finishing blow.
And while it might be dangerous for Inumaki, he’s better now so it can’t be that bad. His cheeks are rosier and his eyes have more life to them. His voice is also clearer, which is good, if slightly unfortunate for his current situation.
Inumaki hesitates and slows to a stop, digging for his pen and paper. “Who exactly do you want to kill?”
Karin goggles. “You really are an idiot! We’ve been talking about him this whole time! Uchiha Itachi, you moron!”
“Bonito flakes,” he says, scribbling another sentence down. “Who is that?”
It’s Sasuke’s turn to stare this time. He’s never heard of Itachi? Is that even possible? Everyone knew of kinslayer Uchiha Itachi, the man who slaughtered an entire clan in one night.
He had assumed this whole time that Inumaki knew what he was coming along for, that he had previously refused due to fear or some ridiculous samurai code of honour that applied even to the worst of murderers. But he really didn’t know?
“Uchiha Itachi,” Sasuke grits out, words like weights on his tongue, “is the worst of the worst. He’s an extremely powerful shinobi who faked his loyalty and love for years. He murdered his own clan. His own family. Over 400 people; shinobi, civilians, innocents. He killed them all, just to test out his own strength. Drenched the compound in blood and left mountains of bodies, from the oldest of grandparents to the smallest of children. He didn’t leave a single Uchiha alive. Except- except-”
His voice gives out. Except for me. The last of the Uchihas. I’m the only one left.
“Mustard leaf?” Inumaki says softly. He nudges Sasuke gently. The paper flutters down, where a single question stands out on the white of the paper. “Why you?”
“Don’t you know?” Karin asks. Her usual shrill voice is unnaturally muted. “That’s Uchiha Sasuke. Itachi is his brother.”
Inumaki looks at him, and Sasuke prepares to turn away, already knowing what he’ll see. He hates the pity in everyone’s eyes when they stare at him. He doesn’t want their fucking pity; he wants action. But when he looks up, Inumaki’s violet eyes are filled with understanding. A fair amount of concern too, but no pity.
“What’s the plan?”
“The plan,” Sasuke starts, feeling the words catch in his throat. He feels so pathetically grateful, he could cry. He doesn’t of course. He’s an Uchiha, and Uchihas don’t cry. “Ahem. The plan is for me to engage him, with you staying as far away as possible. But when I give you the signal, you need to use your jutsu to kill him.”
“And what will I do?” Karin asks, hands on her hips.
“He travels with a partner named Hoshigaki Kisame. I might need both of you to run interference and just make sure he doesn’t get in the way of the fight. He didn’t interrupt last time though, so it will probably be fine.”
Inumaki taps his pen against the paper thoughtfully. “Not fully recovered yet. Can’t use kill command, but could probably do explode. Would heavily injure me.” He underlines the last sentence.
Sasuke considers it. Inumaki’s explosions are impressive, but it’s Itachi. If he’s not killed immediately, there’s a very good chance he could escape.
“Not good enough,” he hisses. “Are you sure you can’t just kill him?”
Inumaki tips his head. “If he’s that powerful, would kill me for sure.”
“I guess… If it’s absolutely necessary…” Karin shifts uneasily. “Well, I am good at healing. I could maybe heal you right after you use your jutsu.”
Inumaki perks up. “Soy sauce,” he sings out.
“It’s not like it’s for you, you jerk,” Karin says, cheeks flushing red. “It’s as a favour to Sasuke, obviously!”
“Go Team Taka!” Inumaki writes. He even adds a little smiley face at the end.
Karin fumes. “I told you, it’s not for you. I don’t even like you. You’re super annoying, your hair looks terrible, your outfit is ugly and your chakra is utterly horrific.”
Inumaki nods knowledgeably, holding a finger up. “Tuna tuna!” Quick as a whip, he grabs the purple rope around Sasuke’s waist. Sasuke, utterly baffled, lets him. He knots it around his own waist, and ties it in a big bow with a flourish. Next, he fluffs up the back of his hair, then finally starts unbuttoning the front of his shirt jacket.
Karin shrieks. “That’s not what I meant!” She flings a shuriken at his head, and Inumaki hastily dodges, ruining the frazzled peak of his hair.
“Caviar!”
The pen and paper go back into his pocket as he thrusts his hand out again, indicating for the rest of them to put their hands in. “Spicy cod roe!”
Karin fumes. “Like I’d ever do any team bonding with you-”
Sasuke doesn’t even care. A disturbing mixture of fear, anticipation and hope is thrumming through his veins. More than that, there’s a bubbling lightness making its way to the surface. It’s a strange feeling, but not a bad one. It tickles the most distant of memories, back from when he still had reason to smile.
A long time ago, he’d committed to taking the dark path, the winding trail of thorns that only he could tread alone. Nobody understood him. Nobody could accept his need for vengeance, so he was doomed to a life of loneliness and darkness.
Maybe it didn’t have to be that way.
“Come on, Sasuke,” Karin huffs. “Let’s just go kill your brother, okay?” She stalks off.
Sasuke follows her, leaving Inumaki behind in the clearing.
“Salmon roe,” he complains, jogging to catch up, rope belt swishing in the wind.
Maybe Sasuke has a chance.
--
“I’m afraid only Sasuke is allowed to pass,” the shark-faced man says, heaving his sword over his shoulders. “Itachi’s orders.”
“Bonito flakes!” Inumaki declares, crossing his arms in an ‘X’.
Karin narrows her eyes. “We’re not letting Sasuke go in alone.”
Kisame laughs. “I didn’t see any need to fight you today, but if you insist.”
“It’s alright,” Sasuke says, watching those grinning sharp teeth. “It’s my mission. I’ll go by myself.”
“You can’t go by yourself!” Karin declares. “He can’t stop us! We’ll just follow you-”
“Salmon,” Sasuke says firmly, gaze turning to Inumaki. “Wait here, understood?”
Inumaki nods, eyes gleaming.
“Salmon,” Kisame says incredulously, as Sasuke brushes past. “Your name is seriously Salmon?”
The sound of Inumaki’s babbling fades into the distance as he walks into the hideout. The ground is hard beneath his feet, and he doesn’t bother concealing his presence. Itachi clearly already knows he’s here. That’s why they’ve tracked him to an old Uchiha hideout, towering Uchiwas framing the entrance of the mountainous base. It’s musty and deserted, with a thick layer of dust coating the walls. The scent is thick and stale.
The whole thing makes Sasuke’s blood boil. What right does Itachi have to come here, when he’s the reason this place has been lying abandoned and decaying for years?
Then he turns the corner, and nearly loses his head completely. Itachi sits upon a dais, like a kage presiding over his village, Uchiwa framing his head. His red eyes sweep the room emotionlessly. Sasuke’s breath is coming out in short pants. His fists are trembling. But Itachi shows no signs of distress, nor anticipation. His expression is cold and unfeeling.
“You,” Sasuke breathes.
“Little brother.”
“I’ve finally come,” Sasuke says. He’s here. It’s happening. “By the end of tonight, the world will know of your death.”
“My death,” Itachi repeats, as disinterested as ever. “Well, then. Make it happen.”
And with that, the fight begins in earnest.
Itachi’s on him immediately. He’s fast, it’s true, but Sasuke’s been training his speed as well. They clash in a flurry of blades, sparks flying. Sasuke grits his teeth while trying to use his chokuto to fend off Itachi’s single kunai. His strength is outmatched though, and he’s forced to run lightning chakra down the length of his sword in order to disengage.
They clash again. Sasuke pushes off the floor and flips, cloak flying, as he jumps over Itachi’s shoulder to land at his back. He tries to discreetly make a shadow clone as he does so, trading out and landing on the ceiling.
From above, he can tell for sure. He’s gotten better, yes. But Itachi is unmatchable. He’s just toying with him.
It fills Sasuke with rage, so just as Itachi’s about to pop his clone, he charges up Chidori and races in from behind. He closes the distance quickly, and in seconds, his sword is sparking neon white, plunged straight through Itachi’s chest.
Sasuke holds the position, filled with confusion. It’s not possible. It can’t be this easy.
It isn’t. Itachi smiles, and with two fingers, redirects his attention back to the throne. There, another Itachi sits, stone faced and still. The Itachi beneath his blade claws itself apart, dispersing into a hurricane of crows.
The crows. The fucking crows. Sasuke glowers at the newly revealed Itachi in impotent rage. He’s been training to do a similar thing with the snakes, but he hasn’t pulled it off successfully yet. If he tries it here, he’ll surely fail.
They meet each other’s eyes. The genjutsu that drops down upon them both is well placed and delicate, but Sasuke ramped up his sharingan training a long time ago, so it’s not overly difficult to detect. Normally, genjutsu suits him fine. Prodding each other's limits and matching wits in a world of his own making can sometimes even be fun. But not right now. Sasuke tracks down the twining threads and uses his chakra to rip them apart. He wants Itachi bleeding out under him for real.
Besides, he has to prepare. Even as he reaches for his shuriken, his chakra weaves through the air, feeling out the static and humidity.
“You’ve improved,” Itachi says mildly. “But is it truly enough to face me?”
It isn’t. Sasuke flings his shuriken anyway. Itachi throws his own shuriken to block, impacting with the clang of ringing metal. Sasuke hurls them continuously until his pouch is nearly empty, but it doesn’t matter how many he throws. Itachi hits each one. The stars fall from the sky, spinning harmlessly on the dusty stone.
That’s not enough, so it’s time to turn up the heat. Sasuke shoots out a series of fireballs, and sends even more shuriken hurtling behind them. As always, Itachi blocks with ease. Fine then. He inhales sharply, and breathes out the largest, hottest fireball he can make.
The flames stream from his lips, sending the temperature skyrocketing. Itachi meets it with more fire. The pressure is intense. Sasuke can see the walls begin to peel and crack. Billowing black smoke climbs through the air, coating the ceiling and making the room smell thick and choking.
Sasuke’s lips are starting to crack. He’s not sure how much longer he can keep this up, but he pours more chakra in, making his coils tingle and strain. His fire burns brighter, brighter, and for a single disbelieving moment, he thinks he might overpower the other.
Then, the flames bloom black.
Itachi’s eyes are no longer swirling tomoe, but instead, the full fledged pinwheel of a mature Mangekyou Sharingan. The black flames of Amaterasu eat away at his fire, burning through the ceiling and revealing the grey sky above. Sasuke’s shoulder is badly singed. He rolls and unsheathes his sword once more, leaping upwards onto the roof to gain the high ground.
Heat rises. Up above, clouds continue to gather.
“This is the power of the Mangekeyou Sharingan,” Itachi informs him coldly. “The ultimate visual prowess. I told you to face me when you have eyes like mine.”
Sasuke’s right arm is numb. Burns adorn his face and upper body. He grits his teeth and bears the pain. “I don’t care,” he says. “I don’t need those eyes to see you dead.” Just a little bit more. Just a couple seconds longer.
Itachi raises an eyebrow. “Your regular Sharingan cannot match it. But no matter. That is not the true reason I requested that of you.”
Sasuke’s heart stutters in confusion. “Tell me!” He demands.
“The Mangekyou Sharingan is the highest level of the Sharingan. It grants unimaginable strength. But it comes at a steep price. For every usage of its power, the user’s eyesight rapidly diminishes. If they do not stop, it will leave them in total darkness.”
A steep price indeed. “I don’t understand,” Sasuke hisses.
“I, too, have fallen fate to this curse. And there is only one known way to stop it. It involves a trade, and it is for that reason that I left you alive that night. Can you guess, Sasuke?”
The air is stiflingly hot and the cement burns the undersides of his sandals, but Sasuke’s heart is stopped cold. “No,” he whispers.
“Yes. The only way to stop the blindness. You must take the eyes of your brother.”
Sasuke’s face is a mask of pure horror. He feels shaky and sick. He barely dodges out of the way as Itachi lunges towards him with an expression of manic glee. He parries once, twice. His sword arm is shaking, and he’s not sure how much longer he can keep this up, when the clinging sensation of static signals him. It’s ready.
“The only thing you’ll be seeing,” Sasuke snarls, “is your death! Kirin!”
The sky comes alive.
Lightning roars out of the swirling clouds. The heavens screech out their displeasure. This is the technique he’s been working on for nearly a year now, soon to be the pinnacle of his jutsu arsenal. It isn’t yet. It’s not ready. But it sure does make one hell of a signal.
Kirin was intended to be a giant lightning dragon, able to devastate mountains and reach its target in 1/1000th of a second. It isn’t fully shaped yet, so Sasuke’s only able to vaguely direct it Itachi’s way. Smaller forks of lightning branch off and burn through patches of forest down below.
The technique is incomplete, but it still looks damn impressive. It’s with bitter disappointment that Sasuke watches Itachi somehow emerge with nothing but a lightning-scarred arm. He feels like he’s given everything he has. His chakra is so low, he thinks he might slip off into a coma at any second.
But no, he can’t. Not yet. He’s so close.
His clenched hand barely maintains its white knuckled grip on his sword as Itachi strides forward, seemingly unaffected by his most powerful attack.
“Is that all?”
Sasuke’s body is numb. The fire still burns around them.
Itachi steps ever closer. At his side, his arm starts to rise.
Sasuke begs his sluggish chakra to spark.
Itachi’s hand starts to rise.
Sasuke can’t- he can’t-
Hooked fingers reach for his eyes.
At the edge of the roof are tattooed cheeks and wide purple eyes.
Hard nails sink into his Sharingan-
“Yo!” A voice enthuses directly next to his ear. “Wow! Am I interrupting something?”
He’s so tired, but somehow he still manages to get his sword up. Itachi’s done the same, eyes narrowed at the unexpected interruption.
“You are interrupting,” Itachi says icily. “This is a personal matter. I have no interest in fighting you, so I would advise you to leave now.”
“A personal matter, huh?” The man says. His lips are pulled back in a wide grin, and white fluffy hair emerges from the blindfold wrapped around his eyes. He bounces out of his crouch and starts shambling across the rooftop. “Well, don’t let me get in the way! Go on, do your thing! I’m just here for my student.”
“Your student? Who exactly would that be?”
“Salmon roe!” Inumaki calls excitedly from across the rooftop, thoroughly ruining his cover. “Kelp!”
“Kelp,” Itachi repeats. Sasuke pities the fact that he has no more energy to face palm.
“And there he is!” The man spins around towards Inumaki. “Looks like you’re just fine! That’s good, or else I might have had to kill someone, haha!”
“Bonito flakes,” Inumaki protests, running towards them across the cracked tiles.
Itachi’s voice slides from cool to downright dangerous. “Leave now. Or I cannot guarantee you will both leave alive.”
The white haired man opens his voice to speak, but he’s interrupted by yet another voice coming from the forest, gaining volume at an extremely rapid pace.
“Sasuke,” Karin gasps, sprinting at full tilt. “I’m sorry! I couldn’t- huff- stall him any longer!”
“You little brats!” Kisame roars from behind her. “Get back here!”
Itachi’s eyes narrow. “Sasuke, I’m afraid we will have to finish this at another time. Do not come to face me until you bear the full power of the Mangekyou.”
No. It’s now or never, it’s now, because he refuses to do this again. Itachi dies today, and that is a fact.
“Inumaki,” Sasuke snaps.
“Tuna tuna,” Inumaki says insistently, gesturing towards the man, then at Sasuke and Itachi. “Tuna mayo!”
The man’s eyes dart between the two of them, grin widening. “Oh really? Well, I suppose we can interfere a little bit. Don’t say I never do anything for my precious students.”
“You-” Sasuke starts, not even sure himself what he intends to say. He feels completely off balance.
“Uchiha Sasuke and Uchiha Itachi, right?” The man cuts back in. “Yeah, one of my other students is a huge fan! I should get your autographs! He’d be so excited, it’s adorable. He likes Naruto better though, maybe I should pop by for a visit-”
Sasuke scowls on automatic as he always does whenever someone brings up his old teammate.
Kisame’s leaning against a tree now, no longer chasing Karin. He seems thoroughly amused. “Autographs. Hear that, Itachi? I don’t think anyone’s ever asked for your autograph before.”
Itachi’s face is hard to read, but Sasuke thinks it might be edging towards disturbed. “I do not give out autographs.”
“Well, maybe I don’t want one from you, after all.” The man wrinkles his nose. “No point in getting excited over someone so weak.”
Kisame’s eyeballs attempt to pop out of his skull. Sasuke’s nearly do the same. Weak? Sasuke has spent years cursing his brother’s name. He’s called him about every insult in existence. But weak? Itachi has got to be one of the best shinobi to ever exist. Weak doesn’t even begin to apply.
The shark-faced Akatsuki member regains control of his shock, starting to laugh. “I thought you knew who that was. It’s Uchiha Itachi. He murdered his entire clan in one night. He’s one of the strongest.”
“One of the strongest,” the man scoffs. “He allows himself to be dragged around like a dog, shackled to the whims of a bunch of corrupt old fools. He’s weak.”
Itachi’s killing intent suddenly spikes.
“Yeah, yeah,” the man says. “I know it’s your big secret and all that. But I just think it’s kind of pathetic. If you have the abilities, don’t follow orders like a dog on a leash. Make your own rules. Reshape the world how you want it.” He spins around, lips twitching disapprovingly. “You're one of the strongest. Act like it.”
Itachi stares, blank eyed.
“What are you talking about?” Sasuke spits. “Who are you?”
“Ah, little old me?” The man does a little wave, bouncing on his toes. “I’m Gojo Satoru, and I’m the strongest of them all.”
“Mustard leaf,” Inumaki cautions, creeping towards them. He pats Sasuke’s arm.
“Aw, Toge,” Gojo coos. “Did you really make a friend?”
“Salmon!” Inumaki says brightly.
“So I have to be helpful?”
“Salmon.” Inumaki sounds stern this time.
“Fine, fine.” He heaves a dramatic sigh. “So. Sasuke. Guess what?”
Sasuke looks around, unsure what to do, but Inumaki’s looking back with encouraging purple eyes. “What,” he says slowly.
Gojo opens his mouth to respond, and is immediately bombarded with a torrent of black flames. It happens so fast. Nothing, then suddenly, fire. Sasuke doesn’t even have time to twitch, let alone counter, unlike the previous outpour of Amaterasu minutes earlier. Is this Itachi’s true speed? Earlier, was Itachi holding back?
Sasuke doesn’t know what to do. Gojo had clearly shaken Itachi with his needling. He had information that Itachi had deemed a threat, and any information like that is something Sasuke dearly wants. But it’s too late. The man is already dead, burning in a blaze of unquenchable flame. Once Amaterasu latches on, there’s no way to stop it. His answers have just turned into a pile of ash.
His blade wobbles in his hand as he goes to lunge at Itachi’s throat. His hand is braced against the wall, ready to shove off, when he catches a glimpse of Inumaki’s face. It’s… completely unconcerned. It doesn’t make sense. Gojo is his teacher, right? Why isn’t he screaming? Shaking, falling apart? Releasing his kekkei-genkai and killing Itachi in retaliation?
Sasuke follows Inumaki’s strangely exasperated gaze back to the blazing fire. The smoke circles and climbs into the sky. It doesn’t diminish, still burning thick and dark, but it almost seems to part, peeling away to reveal a familiar figure.
Not dead. Not burnt. Gojo Satoru steps forward, pristine clothing in place and white hair completely untouched. “Wow,” he says mildly. “That was pretty rude. Shame on you, Itachi.”
Itachi stares at him, Mangekyou spinning. Sasuke would think he’s trying to catch him in Tsukuyomi, but it would be useless to try. The man's eyes are hidden beneath his blindfold so there’s no eye contact to latch onto.
The real question is, how did he survive Amaterasu? Sasuke’s Sharingan had flickered out earlier, but he reactivates them now, straining against his empty chakra reserves. Gojo’s form lights up in shining blue. It’s the strangest sight. No chakra coils, like a normal individual would have, but instead some force emanating around him, completely encasing his form in an impenetrable barrier.
“You can see it?” Gojo chuckles. “Yeah, that’s my infinity. An infinity between you and me.”
“Infinity,” Itachi muses. “An infinite distance, preventing attacks from ever reaching you.”
“Ding ding! Ten points to the genius!”
Sasuke’s torn between wanting to yell at the man for his frivolity, or congratulating him for the way it makes Itachi’s eyes narrow. He does neither. Gojo’s still alive, meaning he can still give information. And while his power is incredible, that’s not what Sasuke is most interested in right now.
“You said Itachi is under orders. Whose orders? The Akatsuki’s?”
Gojo claps his hands. “Alright! Listen up, kids! You too, shark man! It’s story time. Gather round, sit down!”
Inumaki plops to the ground and pats the slab of non-exploded tile next to him invitingly.
“What say you, Itachi?” Kisame drawls, pointed teeth clearly visible. He hefts his sword once more. “Want to hear him out? Or want to see how Samehada likes the taste of this infinity?”
Itachi’s fingers twitch.
“Come on, this won’t take long! I’m on a schedule. Gotta be back in time for classes, you know how it is. It’s all nag, nag, nag…”
Itachi’s fingers blur into motion, and Kisame starts loping forwards.
“But wait!” Gojo blurts. “Don’t you want to know the true identity of Madara Uchiha?”
They both stop still.
Madara? What? Sasuke heaves himself back to his feet. “What do you mean?”
“Ah, but first-” Gojo says hastily, then immediately spins around, tugging at the corner of his blindfold. Sasuke can’t see his eyes, but he does see the spinning ball of bright red energy that explodes out of his outstretched palm and promptly blasts the other half of the hideout to smithereens.
Excuse me?
“Just had to get rid of a plant man! Now, where was I?”
“Zetsu?” Kisame asks incredulously.
“Yup!” Gojo rocks on his heels. “You can thank me- he was actually working for his giant rabbit mother! So that’s that dealt with. You know what? Now that you remind me, we really do have to go, Toge. If Nobara catches me again…” He shudders playfully.
“Fuck no,” Karin growls. “You do not get to waltz in here, interrupt Sasuke’s fight, spew cryptic statements, explode half the Uchiha hideout, and then just leave!”
“Fine, I guess I can give you the quick rundown.” He sounds exaggeratedly put-upon. “Alright! So, Sasuke! Your clan was planning a coup, then Itachi got an offer. Kill the clan for his younger brother’s life. And who did he love above all else? Of course he picked his brother. Blackmailed into killing the Uchihas by an evil, old advisor. Don’t you just hate evil, old advisors? I know I do.”
Sasuke starts forward, instinctively snarling out a denial, and Itachi lunges too, seemingly to silence him, but Gojo just dances out of the way and keeps going.
“He had help from Uchiha Madara. But turns out, Madara is just worse-version-of-me- sorry, Sasuke’s sensei’s insane boyfriend!”
“Worse version-” Itachi finally speaks, his trembling voice hovering between rage and incredulity. “Uchiha Madara is Kakashi-sempai’s boyfriend?”
“Uh, kinda, ‘cause Madara’s really just Uchiha Obito in a mask! Got himself brain whammied by the real Madara and now he’s going around trying to put everyone in a dream world on the moon.”
“Obito?” Kisame asks, voice suddenly swimming with danger.
“Yeah, gave a bunch of quotable lines then nearly died and got kidnapped. Got himself some fancy eyes and went totally off the rails.”
“Uchiha Obito,” Sasuke whispers. He’s heard of him. One of his distant cousins. Died during the third war. All of the grannies used to talk about him all the time. But he can’t be alive, because all the Uchiha are dead. The Uchiha are dead, and Itachi murdered them, not because of blackmail, and certainly not out of love for Sasuke.
The utter liar continues on. “Buuut, the moon dreamworld thingy wouldn’t have worked anyway! You’d all just end up getting eaten by a tree for all eternity and feeding Zetsu’s mom.”
“The giant rabbit,” Itachi says warily.
“That’s right! So you should probably do something about that, haha! I’d help, except then I’d be skipping class again and Nobara would make me pay for all her sushi for weeks.”
Gojo ruffles both Sasuke and Itachi’s hair. Sasuke lets him, still mildly in shock. “Have some good brotherly bonding time! Time to go, Toge!”
Sasuke turns to Inumaki. He can’t breathe. “He’s lying.” His voice comes out quiet, before gaining force. “Inumaki, he’s lying, right?”
“Bonito flakes,” Inumaki says gently.
It can’t be. It can’t. His brother hates him. His brother wants to steal the eyeballs out of his skull. All of that was so ridiculous, there’s no way it can be true.
But… he saw Itachi’s expression. That single moment with nothing hidden, pure and utter horror clearly visible on his face. The way he had immediately tried to burn Gojo alive as soon as he insinuated what he knew. Those were the actions of someone with something to hide, someone who refused to let their secret out no matter what. Someone who’d kill for it.
Die for it.
Is it really true?
He tries to catch Itachi’s eye, but his brother refuses to look at him.
“Everyone dies alone,” Gojo says. His playful tone has finally been dropped for something far more serious. “No matter how many allies you have, we all die alone. The search to get stronger is something you must do by yourself.”
Sasuke’s heart drops.
“But,” Gojo says, eyes fixing on Itachi. “You can’t forget what your strength is for. Why are you here? What are you fighting for?”
“Nii-san,” Sasuke whispers.
There’s a hand in his. He looks down. Inumaki has come back, leading Karin across the rooftop. With a tug, the boy pulls Sasuke’s hand forward to land on top of Karin’s. It feels like it’s just the three of them now, their piled hands the only thing keeping Sasuke anchored to this world.
Then there’s a fourth hand.
Pale, smooth skin. Shiny purple nail polish. Inumaki pulls and gently guides it to rest on the top of the pile.
“Spicy cod roe,” Inumaki declares.
Sasuke looks up and meets glassy black eyes.
“Sasuke…”
“And now it’s time for us to be off! Say bye bye, Toge!”
“Tuna Mayo!” Toge chirps, giving Sasuke one last pat on the shoulder.
They vanish in a swirl of nothingness.
“What… just happened?” Karin asks, strangled.
They stare at the destroyed hideout. The little patches of smoldering tile and lightning struck trees. The big clump of burning Amaterasu, sure to burn for seven days and seven nights.
The stack of hands still placed together in a pile.
They slowly disentangle themselves. Sasuke’s eyes are still on Itachi’s. For the first time in years, they don’t look cold or emotionless.
“Oh, and one more thing!”
Sasuke startles, sword jerking. His body strains in pain and exhaustion. Karin and Kisame snap to attention, and Itachi leaps forward, placing himself between Sasuke and the potential threat.
“Forgot to mention,” Gojo says cheerily. “The rabbit mom is actually a gigantic goddess of chakra who kicks you all in the butt, big time. She wants to suck you dry and take over the world, and she has access to unlimited chakra and every dimension. Better watch out!”
The man winks back out of existence.
“I hate everything,” Kisame grumbles.
Sasuke would normally agree. As he once said, so many years ago, he hates a lot of things and doesn’t particularly like anything. Sasuke is made of hate. That’s just who he is, it’s the only thing he has left. But right now?
Karin at his side. His brother at his back. Inumaki’s bright purple eyes and soft hand on his shoulder.
Maybe, just maybe, he doesn’t hate everything.