Archive of Our Own

Futon

Flames flare bright as burning debris whirls up and through the air. Fugaku lowers his hand toward the squad of enemy shinobi. They cry out as the debris crashes down and splinters amongst them. 

Dust, dirt and ashes swirls through the air and thick black smoke belches from the still burning rubble around him. Fugaku’s eyes water, he coughs. With a wave of his hand the smoke blows away. The wind ruffles Fugaku’s hair and he draws a deep breath of cool, fresh air.

There are a couple of bodies on the ground, covered in dust, one of them on fire, clearly dead. Fugaku sighs. Such unnecessary loss of life, there could have been a bloodless solution to this, like they’d planned. If they could get only to the Konoha leaders. But that’s not an option anymore. They weren’t able to find the Hokage or other high ranking officials in time and the element of surprise is no longer on their side. 

The next wave of enemy shinobi rush forward. Fugaku sighs and forms the signs for another futon ninjutsu but before he can release it the enemy is leveled by a directed wave. It leaves the battlefield in a silent, damp darkness. White steam and black smoke rises from the charred rubble, veiling the battlefield in a thick ashen mist. The enemy is blinded. But Fugaku can see their bright chakra. And so can she.

Fugaku watches Mikoto as she creeps forward, cuts, recedes, edging those left fumbling through the mist before cutting again. They collapse, one after another. 

“Asuma!” A young kunoichi rushes for her teammate as he falls to the ground with a thud. 

Fugaku frowns. That name sounds familiar. Asuma… Sarutobi? Isn’t that the child of the Sandaime?

Instead of slitting the woman’s throat Mikoto lets her crumble to the ground. Genjutsu. It’s a risk; not a permanent solution. 

Mikoto’s figure clears as she approaches through the mist. She halts right in front of him, her sharingan intent. “You did this.” 

Fugaku clenches his jaw, squares his shoulders. What now? She killed them, she’d agreed killing would be a necessity. She’d supported the coup, she knew what would happen, what had to happen. Surely she isn’t this naive. “We both knew this wouldn’t be pretty, but it had to be done. They gave us no choice.” 

Mikoto isn’t phased by him. She never is. She takes a step forward, her breath brushes against his throat. “I know,” she snaps. “I’ve killed. Dozens.” Fugaku grimaces, takes a step back and wipes her spit off his face. “But this…” Mikoto gestures around them, toward the shredded burning buildings, the bodies. Buried beneath rubble. “This is just excessive.”

She’s wrong. This isn’t enough. The clan is far from winning this, they are the ones who have suffered the greatest losses. Asahi, a good, reliable man. Dead. Fugaku served Konoha for thirty years with him by his side. And now he’s dead, along with Tekka, Emiko, Ichiro... The list goes on and will go on until they settle this.

“My lord, orders?” Two clan members approach, stepping over the bodies. Their gazes flicker between Fugaku and Mikoto.

Fugaku sighs. “Check for survivors on both sides.” They nod and crouch by the bodies spread out amongst the rubble.

Fugaku runs a hand through his hair. He should get on with the plan. He pauses as he steps across the young kunoichi and her teammate. The teammate – Asuma she’d called him. Maybe if he was the Sandaime’s son they could’ve used him to solve this. But what good is that now. His flak jacket is dark around the wound in the center of his chest, blood pools around him. Dead already, most likely. One of the clansmen kneels by the bodies. He checks ‘Asuma’s’ pulse, moves on to check the kunoichi’s and pauses. “She’s alive,” he states.

Fugaku considers the kunoichi. Her long black hair is drenched in her dead teammates' blood. She has failed them, she has failed her village, failed as a kunoichi. Living now would be a dishonor. She is better off dead with the rest of her squad. She and her team were given a choice: die or surrender. They chose. They died. If she lives now she’s unlikely to accept surrender; she, like Fugaku, has lost too much. She will only become a future hindrance. “Kill her.” 

The clansman nods and pulls out a kunai and puts it against the kunoichi’s throat. 

“Leave her.” Mikoto grips the clansman’s wrist moving his kunai away from the collapsed Konoha kunoichi’s throat. “She’s trapped in my genjutsu. She won’t get out of it without assistance.” 

Fugaku scoffs. “We agreed this was necessary.”

“She doesn't need to die. Neither did any of these people.”

“They are trying to kill us!”

“I’m not talking about them, I'm talking about those who lived here!” Mikoto gestures to the bouldings reduced to rubble. “They lived their lives right here. Peacefully. Entire families who had nothing to do with this.”

“We can’t afford to hold back, Mikoto!” 

“They’re civilians, Fugaku! Or were . We agreed we’d avoid collaterals.”

Most civilians fled the surrounding area as the battle began. The ground quivered and they all woke up, looked out their windows and ran out their doors. People trailed the walls, attempted to make themselves scarce. The Konoha shinobi made an effort to evacuate the civilian residents. Most made it out before the situation grew desperate.

The enemy’s numbers increased to the point where Fugaku had needed to adapt. He couldn’t afford to hold back. Not anymore. Fugaku’s fire is destructive – he knew what the consequence would be. There would be collateral damage, he knew that. But he couldn’t afford to hold back, not while at a disadvantage. He needed to take out the enemy’s numbers. Quickly. Before they could kill his people. He already lost too many. It was a question of priority. As the clan leader he must prioritize the clan, they are his people, his responsibility. A large-scale attack was the only way to save them.

“Our numbers are nothing compared to theirs. We must prioritize our own people! ” He gestures to the rubble and those buried beneath. “They come second.” It is regrettable but they don’t have a choice, the Uchiha won’t survive if they hesitate. “What are they when we have our own children to worry about,” he says aloud.

Mikoto stills. Fickle moonlight streams through the mist and renders her and everything around them so pale and gray. It’s quiet. Only the two clan members can be heard; coughing smoke and ash, shuffling around between bodies. Mikoto draws a breath and looks Fugaku in the eyes. “We’re retreating.”

“What–”

“Fugaku, this is too much.” 

“Are you out of your mind–”

“We’re not winning this!” She closes her eyes, breathes. “There is too much collateral damage, too much chaos, too many injured. Dead . Konoha won’t accept us like this. They will hate us. Even if we manage to take power it won’t last. This isn’t salvageable.” Mikoto takes a step forward and clutches at Fugaku’s shoulders. “We will all die if we stay.” 

Fugaku shakes his head. They will all die if they retreat. They will be pursued, hunted down and killed. Retreat is not an option; he will not have the Uchiha clan die while under his protection.

“I don’t want my children growing up as orphans. I want to be there for them, I–” Mikoto’s grip tightens. “We’re retreating.”

Fulgaku laughs, clutches at his hair. This is ridiculous. “To go where?”

“We are prepared. We have well equipped bases up north.”

It’s not enough. Or maybe it is but it’s a gamble. But Mikoto is right; they can’t win this. Their only chance at survival is weakening Konoha to the point where they’re unable to pursue those who make it out. Fugaku will remain here, die here and fight until the end for his people, for his children. Mikoto is right; their children shouldn’t grow up as orphans. They will need a parent to guide them. And their people. Mikoto can guide them, she will make a great leader.

Fugaku nods. “I’ll set up a distraction to cover the retreat.” “You gather our people and lead them to safety. Get them to the others.”  Itachi, Sasuke, the other children of the clan, the sick, elderly and others who couldn’t fight, they're already on their way to safety. The far northern base is a fortress, where they’ll have the high ground. They’ll be safe.

“And you’ll meet us there,” Mikoto demands. So demanding, so headstrong and decisive. Like always. 

Fugaku smiles. “I will.” Maybe he will, if he survives this. He will try.

Fugaku blinks as Mikoto takes another step forward and tangles her fingers in his hair. She brings his head down to rest her forehead against his. “I love you,” she murmurs. Fugaku reaches forward but her fingers are already slipping from his hair. Fukagu watches her vanish amidst the ashen mist.

***

Itachi winches as he blinks awake. It’s dark. His head is pounding, his throat is sore, his mouth is dry. He reaches for his head, frowns. It feels… dull. Everything feels dull; like he’s moving, thinking, underwater.

Itachi pushes himself upright, leans against… the wall? Not a headboard. The wall is hard, cold. Stone. Itachi’s breath hitches, he blinks. He still can’t see a thing. 

This isn’t his room.

Where…? It’s cold, musty. It smells of rust. Underground? But how…? When…? Itachi reaches out, flinches as his fingers brush against rough stone to his left. He pats at the wall. It’s solid stone. Itachi takes a deep breath, attempting to slow his racing pulse. Panicking won’t help, he must remain calm. Observe the situation and act accordingly. There’s nothing to his right. He reaches down; a mattress on top of cool rusty metal. 

Is this… a cell?

But how? What happened? What–What’s his mission? He doesn’t remember. Why was he captured and not killed? Why can’t he remember? The last thing he remembers he was at home, he went to bed. He wasn’t even on a mission. Was he? Did something happen while he was sleeping? No, he would have woken up, he wouldn’t have let this happen. 

But he had woken up. Before now. There’d been yelling, they’d held him down. Then a needle… 

Itachi jerks upright and kicks at the blanket snaring his legs and stumbles to the floor. His head spins. He braces himself upright, a hand against the wall. He lets out a frustrated sigh and bends down to jank the blanket off. It’s tangled around–what is that? He loosens the blanket from where it’s stuck to his right ankle where– 

Metal. A cuff. With a chain.

He throws the blanket aside and leans against the wall, not trusting his balance. He grips the chain and janks at it. It clanks and grows taut; nailed to the wall. Itachi sinks to the floor, still clutching the chain in his hand. 

He’s a prisoner.

His head is pounding, he can’t remember, he can’t think . 

What happened?

There’d been a needle. But what happened before that? How did this happen? There’d been nothing out of the ordinary, they’d had dinner– 

And the nine tails jinchuriki had been there. Although he shouldn’t have been. He would’ve brought it up with his parents, or with the Hokage. Later. But…

Glass, porcelain bowls, platters and ceramic vases; it all crashed to the ground, shattered. And then he’d been on the kitchen floor, held down by his wrists as he lost consciousness.

They’d drugged him. 

His parents.

But how? They’d all eaten the same food, drank the same water, he’s sure they did; he hadn't eaten or drank anything before his parents did. He’d been careful because he knew something was wrong. 

His parents. They knew. And they–

The coup. 

Itachi clutches at his hair. It’s happening. Happened? Will happen? He doesn’t know.

He should have known what was happening. He should have left as soon as he saw the jinchuriki in their kitchen. He should have informed the Hokage immediately. But he hadn’t wanted to worry Sasuke, hadn’t wanted to cause a scene. Sasuke doesn’t play any part in this, he’s not involved and he shouldn’t be. He’s a child, he’s innocent. But Konoha won’t see it that way. Lord Danzo won’t spare him now that–

Why?!

Everything will come crashing down, they will all die, no one will be spared. The Uchiha will all die as traitors of the village and they will bring so many innocents with them to their grave. All because of the clans folly. All because of their self-importance, their arrogance, their greed . How can they be so selfish? Sasuke–

Where is Sasuke? Is he okay? Is he even– 

Itachi swallows. No. 

Where is Shisui? Itachi was with him just before dinner. Had he known? No. He wouldn’t betray Konoha, he wouldn’t betray Itachi. He would’ve told him. If he knew. 

Didn’t he have a mission? Then… he might’ve been gone by the time it happened. But he might’ve been there and he might’ve– 

Regardless of where he was, where is he now? Is he in a similar situation as Itachi or is he–

Shisui can handle himself.

Besides, it doesn’t matter right now, Itachi can’t do a thing from here anyway. Escape should be his only focus.

He will escape first. Then find Sasuke and Shisui.

Itachi pushes himself to his feet, lets his fingers brush against the rough cave wall, pauses as he finds lines carved across it. He trails the rugged lines, frowns as he recognises the way they bend, break off and continue spiraling all over the walls. 

Seals. Of course.

Fuinjutsu has never been Itachi’s specialty; there was no one to teach him. Mother taught him genjutsu as he grew up, it is one of her favored techniques. Not a lot of people specialize in fuinjutsu, though. But Itachi had always been fascinated by it. He used to read about fuinjutsu, when he still had time for reading. He knows more than the average shinobi; enough to tell the function of the elaborate seals before him. Most resemble the common chakra suppression and chakra depletion seals Itachi’s familiar with. Yet they are different; more complex. Stronger.  

Itachi can feel his chakra ebbing and following, pulled by the different seals; it’s being held down and suffocated, ripped out and extinguished. Both at the same time, somehow. It’s exhausting. 

Itachi lets the wall guide him around the room. He moves slowly, careful not to walk into anything. Everything is still pitch black. He’s not sure whether that’s because of lack of light or because of some kind of seal. If it’s the latter then escape will be… difficult. But it doesn’t matter right now. He will deal with it later.

The cell isn’t very big; it takes him just ten steps to reach the wall opposite to the bed. And then another seven to reach the next wall. Itachi pauses and whips his head around as the rough stone wall turns into cool rusty metal. 

The door. 

It’s thick and sturdy but rusty. Old. He runs his index finger over the slight gap between the door and the doorframe. It’s sealed tight, though not through fuinjutsu, at least not as far as he can tell. It’s most likely padlocked or barricaded in some way on the other side. He finds no keyhole, no hinges, no doorknob. It’s all on the other side. Itachi frowns, which way does it open? He does however find two slots, a peephole and a tray slot. Both shut tight, they won't budge. 

Itachi sighs, slides to the floor, his back to the door. The chain scrapes against the stone floor as he pulls his legs closer. 

He still doesn’t know where he is, what happened.

But none of that will matter unless he can get out of this cell. He has to keep on track. Leaving this room comes before anything else. He pulls at the chain; it’s taut, he wouldn’t be able to step more than a foot outside of this room even if he wasn’t locked inside. So he can’t get out of this room without getting out of the chain. Itachi huffs.

He runs his fingers along the metal and finds a keyhole. If he finds something in here that can work as a paperclip then he might be able to pick it. But finding anything in this darkness will be difficult. The other option would be to get the key, but it’s unlikely it would be brought in here.

Itachi flinches at a sudden noise. He looks up. The slot above him, it’s open. A ray of light shines through it. There’s someone here. 

The door rumbles against his back. His heartbeat picks up. They’re about to open it. 

Itachi scrambles aside, winches as the chain rattles against the floor. He shoots to his feet and presses himself against the wall behind the door. 

A streak of light sippers through as the door squeals open.

He should attack. Escape. Anything could be happening out there, he doesn’t have time to wait for the next opportunity. 

But he might know them, whoever is behind that door. And he’s not sure whether he can–

It doesn’t matter. They’re the enemy. Whoever opens that door is a traitor and a threat to Konoha, to the whole shinobi world. He doesn’t have time to hesitate. 

Now.

Itachi launches himself off the wall and up above the man who stepped inside, his hands on the man’s shoulders. The man staggers forward as Itachi lands in front of him and spins for a round kick to his temple. The room spins and Itachi sways but manages to remain standing. The kick hits the man on the jaw, not on the temple, and sends him to the floor, still conscious. 

Itachi staggers back and forth. The drugs seem to still be in effect, he should adapt his strategy from here on to a worsened balance. He should aim for minimal movement required. 

The world quakes, this time worse than before. Itachi trashes in the air. Pain surges from the back of his scalp as it hits a stone tile on… the floor? Itachi’s on the floor. He fell. He hit his head. Itachi blinks at his surroundings as they whirl around him but he can’t make sense of it. The fall made the spinning worse. Itachi pats at the floor in an attempt to ground himself. Concentrate. 

The man who entered the room is staring back at Itachi as he scrambles backwards towards the blinding light encircling him. The man is holding a chain. It connects to Itachi’s cuff. Right, of  course. The man yanked Itachi off his feet by the chain around his ancle. That’s what happened. That’s… a disadvantage. Itachi lets out a sigh. His thinking is still, evidently, slow. Whether it’s from the drugs or the hit to the head he doesn't know. Maybe both. 

Itachi shoots to his feet and puts his whole weight behind a knee to the man's stomach. He gasps for air, coughs where he lies on his back. Itachi sits on his chest and clutches a handful of his hair and yanks his head up before slamming it back into the stone tiles. The man slums and his head lolls to the side. 

Itachi breathes heavily, the man’s hair and collar still clutched in his hands. Itachi takes another breath and leans forward over the man to look out the open door only to see three more men yelling and running towards him. Itachi scrambles back inside and pulls a kunai from the man’s weapons pouch. He heaves the man back across the room and rests his back against the wall opposed to the door.

The three men spill inside but freeze as they see the kunai Itachi holds against the man’s throat. 

Yakumi is at the front. One of Itachi’s father’s closest and most trusted colleagues. He used to come over for dinner every so often when Itachi was younger but his visits became less frequent over time as he father and many others in the police force stayed late at the station.

“Itachi, let Yashiro go.”

Yashiro. Another clan member, everyone around here is bound to be. His head is bleeding. Itachi didn’t kill him, did he? No, the wound isn’t deep enough, nor does it bleed enough for him to bleed out. “Let me go and I’ll let him go.”

“Itachi–”

“Do not make me repeat myself.” Itachi brings the kunai close to Yashiro’s throat. “I mean it.” Does he? Could he truly do it? Would there even be a point to it? Even if he kills all four of them, how many more would he have to kill to make it back to Konoha? And how many would he physically be able to kill? Itachi’s been drugged, his balance is impaired and he’s sustained head trauma of unknown severity. The escape attempt is likely to stay just that – an attempt. And then what would all that death be for?

Although… the Uchiha are the enemy now. If Itachi was being held captive by an enemy village – Suna, Kiri, Ame – he wouldn’t hesitate to eliminate them. In such a situation the more dead the better – their deaths would weaken the enemy.

This should be just the same. The Uchiha are the enemy.

But it’s not. This is different. Itachi knows these people. They’ve, for better or worse, been there for all of his upbringing. Many of them are good people deceived by the ideology that’s been presented at clan meetings. Many of them aren’t even involved but will still be dragged into it. Itachi doesn't want them to die. 

But that shouldn’t matter. 

As a shinobi, Itachi should act impartially and consider the greater good above all else. All life is equal. This should be no different. He should not let personal feelings get in the way. 

Yakumi takes a step forward and Itachi tightens his grip on the man’s hair, brings his head back, exposing his throat further. The man groans. The possible brain damage can’t be too bad then, he should be fine. But that shouldn’t matter in this situation. “Calm down.” 

Itachi brings the kunai closer to the man’s throat, close enough to cut, just a little. “Give me the key.” He will get out of here and prevent any greater conflict than the Uchiha have already caused. 

Yakumi steps back. “Drop the kunai.”

“You first.” There’s a reason for all this. This way there is no war. The world will be saved. Or would have been, had Itachi prevented this like he was meant to.

But not those who threaten it. They can’t be saved. He can’t save everyone. He couldn’t save the Uchiha. It’s too late for them.

Itachi blinks as Yashiro draws a shaky breath. “Please… Itachi.” It’s a faint whisper.

Itachi sighs, closes his eyes, grips the kunai tight.

“Don’t!”

The kunai rattles against the floor.

What is the point to all of this?

***

Fugaku had read descriptions, seen pictures of the far northern Uchiha hideout but it does not compare to the real thing. Five mountains divided into defensible levels – one in the center surrounded by the four others; one to the north, south, west and east. A true fortress. They don’t have enough people to make full use of the surrounding mountains but at least one squad stands posted on each mountain guarding the center. Fugaku was shown around the surrounding area as he arrived and they’re now heading up the cliffs of the central mountain where most of the old settlement remains. Most of his people have taken refuge here where they can be defended, were anything to happen. There are tents and baggage scattered all around, people, his people, huddling around campfires. More and more the higher he climbs. 

Fugaku reaches the top where two clan members are stationed outside a big circular stone building. They recognize them, bow and open the door for them. He nods in acknowledgement. He turns to the clan member on his right as they walk inside. She’s young but she’s proved to be attentive and reliable. “I want someone to assemble a cohesive report detailing everything I should know. I want it done as soon as possible”

She nods. “Yes, my lord.”

They enter a hall, formerly used as a meeting room or throne room according to the documents on the base. Baggage is scattered across the room along the stone walls. The Uchiha crest is painted upon a throne. Two little boys sit on the steps in front of it.

“I’ll arrange a meeting,” Fugaku continues as he surveys the room “inform everyone and make arrangements for that. I intend for it to be held at midday.” Fugaku turns to the clansman behind him. “Someone needs to head back to Sora-ku after the meeting to relay information. Sota, you just came with me from there. You know the terrain, are you up for it?” Sota bows silently and Fugaku nods. “Make sure to include information about the families of those stationed there, I’m sure they would like to know.”

“The journey can be dangerous, do you need company?”

“Our resources are scarce. I'll make it,” Sota shrugs. 

“Father!” 

Fugaku freezes in place. Sasuke. 

Fugaku staggers as Sasuke throws himself on him. He stiffens as he glances down at his son. Sasuke has his arms wrapped around his waist, his face buried in his stomach. Fugaku hesitantly pats him on his back. Sasuke quickly gets a hold of himself, lets go of Fugaku, steps back and straightens. “Sorry, I just…” He bites his lip.

Normally Fugaku would reprimand him for this kind of undesirable behavior. But not now. He clears his throat. “Have you been good?” 

Sasuke nods stiffly. He hesitates, looks around. “Where’s mother and Itachi?”

Mikoto.

How does he tell Sasuke?

And Itachi…

Fugaku frowns. “Did Itachi not come here with you?”

Sasuke tenses. “He did, but I don’t know where they took him,” he mumbles. “They won’t tell me.”

Itachi should be somewhere connected to this very building. According to old maps of this base and their scouting efforts there are well equipped cells here, though Fugaku hasn’t seen them for himself and is unsure of exactly where they are. But they should be here somewhere below their feet. He’ll ask around, someone’s bound to know how to get there. 

”Itachi should be here somewhere, I’m sure he’s fine.” He’ll have to check on him later.

“Can I see him?” Sasuke is looking up at him with wide hopeful eyes. Fugaku grimaces. 

“No.”

“But–” Sasuke’s lip quivers. Fugaku holds back a sigh. He doesn’t know how to handle Sasuke. He is an emotional child, and Fugaku can’t handle emotional children. Itachi was never difficult like this, he never cried. It was easier raising Itachi, Sasuke is so… fragile. Fugaku would rather just leave Sasuke to Itachi or– 

Mikoto.

She should be here, not Fugaku. He was not meant for this. How is he meant to raise these children? Fugaku clenches his jaw.  “No, Sasuke.”

Itachi needs to be contained until they know they can trust him. Sasuke would be unlikely to benefit from visiting him in that kind of a setting. It would most likely put him under more emotional strain than he’s already in. 

Besides, Itachi might be a bad influence on Sasuke right now. He doesn’t understand the situation correctly, he’s been tainted by Konoha’s manipulation, it’s best they don’t let those deceptive ideas spread further. Itachi will have to relearn the clan’s values.

And as of right now a cell is the only option there is for Itachi. Other more flexible options are being looked into. If Itachi is to be let out of a cell anytime soon he needs to be easier to handle. As he is very few would be able to keep him in check, he could escape easily. But techniques such as chakra body seals need to be created to fit Itachi specifically, otherwise it could end up killing him. They will need a sealmaster. 

“Why did you do that?” Sasuke mumbles.

Fugaku blinks. “Do what?”

Sasuke fiddles with his hands. “Itachi. You–” 

Ah. “It had to be done.” For the clan, for their safety. And for Itachi’s safety as well.

Sasuke bites his lip and glares at the ground. He doesn’t understand, and how could he? He knows nothing. But now is the time he learned. “Has anyone explained to you why we’re here?”

Sasuke shakes his head.

Fugaku runs a hand through his hair. Where does he even start? Everyone has been so careful not to mention any of this to Sasuke or the other children of the clan.

“Our clan is powerful, and as such we’ve always been feared. Even by our allies, they never really trusted us. There was a myth about The Curse of Hatred and The Will of Fire. Have you heard about that?”

Sasuke shakes his head again.

Fugaku runs a hand through his hair. Maybe it would be for the best not to mention Tobirama Senju’s ridiculous notions to his impressionable seven year old son. He’d speculated the Uchiha were capable of greater love than others but because of this also capable greater hatred once their loved ones are lost. This hatred would then, according to the nindaime’s preposterous theories, awaken the sharingan and make the Uchiha go insane with hatred and grief. The Uchiha would then have succumbed to “The Curse of Hatred”. As if no one but Uchihas have ever experienced loss and gone insane with hatred and grief. 

The nindaime would then label the Uchiha he approved of as having broken the “curse” as following “The Will of Fire''. As if they had not been living in the land of fire for just as long as the Senju. As if the Uchiha were the sworn enemy of the nation of fire. But to Tobirabma Senju they were, his clan had been enemies with the Uchiha for decades.

Of course Tobirama Senju had a great influence on Konoha as the nindaime and so his notions spread. Although Konoha regarded the sharingan and the Uchiha with a certain admiration there was also fear of this hatred that could make the Uchiha snap at any second. Fear that brought paranoia and distrust that only worsened as they were supposedly proven correct seven years ago during the Kyuubi attack. The relations between the village and the clan have been growing worse ever since. The accusations were completely unjustified and so of course the clan would not comply with their worsening state of living. 

But it’s unnecessary to mention any of that to Sasuke right now. He’s too young, he will understand once he’s older. Fugaku should simply tell him what he needs to know. “The clan was being threatened by Konoha, we had to act.” 

Sasuke frowns. “Konoha? But we live in Konoha.”

Fugaku scoffs. They didn’t live in Konoha, they were kept in a walled off district at the outskirts like rabid guard dogs kept in a kennel. “Not anymore. Konoha would have killed us had we let them.” 

Sasuke just stares at him so Fugaku continues.

“We fought. People died. Your mother…” Fugaku swallows, his mouth dry. Sasuke needs to know. “She stayed behind. She saved the rest of us.”

Sasuke blinks at him. “When will she come here?”

“Sasuke, she’s not–”

“No!” Sasuke shoots to his feet and stomps forward a few steps. “She’ll come here,” he declares. “I’ll wait.” He then sits back down on the floor, his arms around holding his knees tight. 

Sasuke might deny it now but eventually he will have to come to terms with it. Mikoto is dead. She is gone. She is never coming back. Fugaku used to see her every day just a week ago. Now he never will again. People die. This is war. Eventually Sasuke will realize this. Fugaku stands to leave the room but his steps falter as he walks past Sasuke. Fugaku pauses by his son’s side and reaches down, clasps Sasuke’s shoulder in a firm grip. “Stay strong, my son.” There is nothing else to be done. Mikoto is not coming back.  

***

Itachi isn’t sure how long he’s been here. But he can make assumptions based on the meals brought to him presumably three times a day, so he’s been here for approximately fifteen days. Probably more; he’s not sure how long he was unconscious for. 

It’s too empty. It’s driving him insane - he could use some books. Or a clock. Itachi slumps against the wall where he’s sitting on the bed with the lantern in his hands. It’s electric. Maybe they don’t trust him with fire. Although the cell is hardly maximum security. The bed isn’t nailed down and can, with enough work and in its rusty state, likely be pulled apart and wielded as a weapon. The sheets could be used to strangle someone. Even the electric lantern is a security risk; it could be used to bash someone’s head in. He’s not sure why they bothered to give him one. 

Itachi sighs.

He still doesn’t know where he is; he could be anywhere. Though he could make informed assumptions on that front as well. This place seems old; the door is rusty, as is the bed. It’s well equipped with high level seals powerful enough to hold a shinobi, even a powerful one. Cells like these are rare, his guess would be on one of the five hidden villages but considering the Itachi’s current situation it’s most likely an Uchiha base from the warring states period, most of which are located in the north of the land of fire. It’s definitely not a Konoha cell. He’s seen those. There is not much else to go on. The walls are made of granite but that’s a common rock that doesn’t narrow it down much at all. 

The door rumbles. The chain still around his ankle rattles as Itachi shoots to his feet. He leaves the lantern lying on the bed amongst the sheets. The door creaks as it opens and father steps inside. Itachi blinks. He hasn’t seen him since before… everything. Nor has he seen father, mother, Shisui or anyone other than Yakumi and the same four other clan members. He hasn’t seen Sasuke. And no one has told him anything, answered any question or even acknowledged him in any way for the most part. But he keeps asking. “How is Sasuke?”

Fugaku leans against the door, his arms crossed. It slams shut. “He’s fine.”

Fine. 

Yes why of course, Sasuke's fine . 

He’s fine when his home is being torn apart. When the people he loves are dying, fighting each other. When he will inevitably be forced to fight someone else’s battles, pick a side. And then die, drowned in his own self loathing no matter what he chose, his hands stained in blood. Because that is war.

And he’s fine .

Just like Itachi was fine when he witnessed war for the first time, bodies upon bodies, corpses, piles of people. Itachi was fine when he killed a man for the first time, when his squad died right in front of him. For the first time. And when it – all of that – happened over and over and over and over–

Itachi never wanted Sasuke to become like him. I want to become just like you, big brother. But he doesn’t. He doesn’t want that. They do. 

Itachi never asked to graduate at seven, to enroll in the chunin exams at ten, to join Anbu half a year later. It wasn’t his choice. That is not to say he regrets it; this is the path he would have chosen. Itachi has the ability. He can save lives. But it’s a heavy responsibility he doesn’t want Sasuke to carry. But now he will. If he isn’t already– Is he even–

Alive?

Itachi exhales. “Can I see him?” The question is ridiculous. Still – Itachi has to see him, he has to know . 

His father says nothing. He won’t even look at him. Is he disappointed? Furious maybe? Itachi expected him to be. He expected to be yelled at, scolded. He’d expected his father to be… louder, more aggressive. He usually is. He has quite the temper, though it would rarely be directed at Itachi. That is until he – for the first time in his life – started opposing him;  disobeying instructions, withholding classified information, skipping clan meetings. 

Betraying the whole clan.

Itachi doesn't regret it. It was the right thing to do. The Uchiha were in the wrong. He should have done more. He should have left to get the Hokage immediately when he saw the jinchuriki in their kitchen. Or pushed for earlier interference. Crushed the coup while it was in its earlier stages. He wanted to solve this with as little violence as possible but it seems that wasn’t an option. This is already the worst case scenario. He should have done something, anything, different.

“Why?” Itachi whispers. Why would they even attempt this? How could they even consider such madness? Can they see– can’t they understand the consequences of what they’re doing? It’s true – the Uchiha aren’t trusted by the village but this will certainly not solve the issue. If they wish to be respected, to be trusted, then they must earn it and prove their worth. If the clan could only realize they too are meant to be a part of the village. If they could only get past their pride, work together to unite Konoha, protect its people like they swore they would. Instead they killed them. They broke the peace. 

Itachi grits his teeth and in a few strides he stands right in front of father. “Why?!” 

Father’s mouth opens and closes. Why is he even here? What’s the point of this? Itachi’s been here for over two weeks and this is the first he sees of his father and he won’t even say anything. Konoha upheld stability and it upheld peace. And now that’s all gone. Maybe they were forcefully relocated to a district but what did it matter? They could still live normal lives. Sasuke could attend class at the academy, play with all the other children. Itachi could go to the market with Sasuke when he had the time and energy. Buy sweets. Sasuke would insist he doesn’t like sweet things but he has to be lying, what child doesn’t like sweets? That… that will all be gone now. It will be gone, not only for them but for so many others. And father won’t even say anything. Does it matter to him? Does it even–

Itachi snarls and clutches a fistfull of his fathers kimono. “You ruined it! You ruined everything! How many died? They died because of you! Because of you and this stupid, arrogant, self-absorbed clan!” 

Father stares down at Itachi’s hand where it holds his collar. He sighs. He sighs. That’s all. He might as well leave. This whole conversation is going nowhere. Itachi would rather he never–

“Your mother is dead.”

What.

Father tugs lightly at Itachi’s wrist and the kimono slips from Itachi’s fingers. He meets Itachi’s eyes for the first time. “I’m sorry.” 

Father leaves and the iron door is slammed shut behind him.

***

Itachi has abandoned the bed in favor of the floor and lays on his back staring up at the ceiling, his arms spread out to his sides. He traces the edges of the rough stone tiles. They’re not very even and cut into his back, scalp, legs, neck. 

He’s tired.

He’s not sure why. He’s been sleeping a lot. There’s not much else to do. Although that’s not true. He could be doing anything but lying around like this. He could try and leave. Again. But he’s not sure he wants to. 

He should. Leave. Do something. Anything. 

But it’s too late.

He doesn’t want to know what happened, what is happening. Who died. Not anymore. Because there is nothing to be done. They will all die soon enough, if they haven’t already. It will be easier to wait here for the end. And not have to watch it happen. 

He can see their corpses discarded on a battlefield amongst so many others. 

Itachi has come across many corpses in different stages of decay. Most often he would be the one who killed them – the corpses would be fresh. Their eyes would be empty, their limbs twisted. They would be covered in blood and grime, and so would Itachi. If those corpses were cleaned up, dressed nicely – then they would look almost alive, as though they were sleeping, though not breathing; their skin still whole, though pale. Nothing like what they would later become. 

Team Ro once came across a pair of corpses. It’d been only three weeks into his promotion to Anbu. It wasn’t unusual for them to come across corpses. Team Ro was, as most Anbu teams, usually dispatched with orders to kill. Of course there were corpses. But the state of these corpses… 

They’d been Kiri-nin. He remembers them vividly. Fluids leaked from their mouths. Bloated, swollen, pale forms of flesh patched in red and blue, skin ruptured and loose upon rotting flesh. Covered in maggots eating away on the nose, mouth, the empty cavities where the eyes used to be. It was the first time Itachi saw corpses in such a state. 

He acted unprofessionally, lost face, threw up. All in front of his superior. It did not happen again. Itachi has come across many similarly gruesome bodies in the past two years. He has fulfilled his duties, acted as was expected of him. 

Another time he found a Suna kunoichi in an alleyway. Her corpse was relatively fresh but torn apart, not by whoever slit her throat but by street dogs. Her organs were scattered about the narrow path. Itachi’s mission was to retrieve a document in kunoichi's possession. Seeing as she was dead it seemed unlikely for it to still be with her; it was likely stolen by her killer. But he had to make sure. So he searched the remains.

This part of Anbu operation is not something he… enjoys doing. At all. Nevertheless it has to be done. There are many parts of the position he doesn’t like. The killing and the overall brutality, mostly. But Itachi understands it has to be done. They must die and suffer so others may live.

It has to be done. Itachi is one of the few with the ability, he can save the lives of those who lack it, he can prevent them from being sent out on missions they’re not able to handle. He wanted to save them. He failed. He failed them. His comrades. His village. The world…

The Uchiha. 

He wanted to save them. Although they started this. They are the traitors, the ones responsible for all of this. They are the reason they will all die. It’s their fault. 

But it was also Itachi’s responsibility. It was his mission to make sure this never happened. And he failed.

Itachi has been running back and forth for years; S-rank after S-rank, dispose of bodies, try and wash the blood off before rushing back home to pick Sasuke up from the academy, attend meeting after meeting. Council meeting, clan meeting, mission, council meeting, clan, killing, the council, the clan, “family”, Konoha, the clan. Sasuke.

And it wasn’t enough. 

And the village will collapse in on itself. His comrades and the Uchiha will die fighting each other and the other villages will drag the world into it as they rush to level Konoha with the ground. It will result in a series of international conflicts. Wars. Maybe even a fourth great war. Battles will be fought for the land along the borders and the civilians there will likely die as well. So many will die and turn into formless swollen shells of human beings like those Kiri-nin. Unless they’re eaten first, by the dogs in the towns or by the ravens always circling the battlefield. 

His mother is dead. 

He tries to think of her as she was. Stern but kind. A good mother who cared. But as he can imagine is her pale face, swelling, turning blue, her skin peeling, her flesh rotting.

She’s dead.

Itachi used to play hide and seek with Sasuke. He can still see Sasuke’s delighted grin when he would find him behind some bush in the woods outside Konoha. He can see Sasuske’s pouts as he would disappear in a puff of smoke. Sasuke’s small hands would reach for Itachi’s as they walked home from the academy. Although Sasuke has stopped holding Itachi’s hand as of late. He’s ‘too big’ for that, apparently. 

Sasuke isn’t dead.

But those small hands, they are so cold. Swollen and blue. His skin cracks open–

He knows what they look like. Corpses. Their corpses. Sasuke and mother, hand in hand. Left behind in the mud. Their eyes open and empty, blood and mud soaking their clothes. His mothers apron, red–

“Hiya, little cousin!” 

Itachi startles but remains on the floor. How, he can’t be real–

Shisui stands leaned over him, a bright smile on his face. “How’s it going?”

Itachi stares back up at him.

“Not so great, it seems,” Shisui murmurs and crouches down by Itachi’s side. “Hey, I’ll get you out of here. If that’s what you want.” He offers a hand to Itachi, who blinks at it and props himself up into a sitting position. He is not so weak he can’t move on his own. 

Shisui puts his hand on Itachi’s back anyway, even though he doesn’t need– Itachi’s breath hitches. 

He is real. 

Shisui shakes Itachi by the shoulders, they lock eyes. His sharingan is activated. What is happening? “Itachi, listen,” Shisui demands. “You have to make the decision, to stay or to go, understand?”

Here. Shisui is here. And he asked a question. Focus. Itachi clears his throat. “I understand.” 

Shisui nods and hunches over Itachi’s right leg, by the cuff. He pulls something from his pouch. Lockpick most likely. Itachi could be doing that himself. He needs to focus, this should be treated like a mission. He’s on a mission: escape. Act professional, get it together.

“And know that I’ll follow you anywhere,” Shisui says.

Itachi blinks. What? 

Right.

Stay or go.

But go where? Is Konoha still left? And if it is, will they be executed as traitors upon arrival? And where exactly are they currently?

Of course staying isn’t an option. The Uchiha, they are the enemy. They are traitors, they’re not on the same side, Itachi doesn’t belong with them. 

Where is Sasuke? Itachi can’t leave him. But he can’t bring him back to Konoha either, he can’t guarantee his safety there but Itachi doesn’t know whether or not he is safe in his current circumstances either. Or what those circumstances are. Or where he even is. He could be here, somewhere, or he could be miles away. Itachi doesn’t have enough information, which has been the major problem for the past few weeks. No one has told him anything of substance, or even spoken to him, for the most part.

“Alright, get up.” Shisui grabs Itachi by the wrists and hauls him to his feet. “Look, we don’t have a lot of time, if I’m gonna break you out of here.” He puts his hand on Itachi's shoulders. “So, what’ll it be, Itachi?” 

“The clan, or the village?”

***

“Lord Fugaku?”

“Yes?”

“I was just informed and I came h–” 

“Spit it out.”

“Itachi is missing.”