Weasel arrived at ANBU headquarters at his assigned time, at the entrance he regularly used, in the clothes he usually wore. His breathing and pulse were steady and his face, already covered by his mask, would have portrayed nothing but a serene expression. Even to his colleagues, the most observant people in the land of Fire, nothing appeared amiss. Beneath the equanimity, however, laid great turmoil. Only a day ago, Itachi had been given the order to massacre his clan and spare his brother—or to do nothing, and watch his clan, including his brother, be executed.
The choice was clear; there was no world in which he would not do anything to save Sasuke. That did not make it easy.
Weasel had been unusually absent-minded since the conversation with councilman Danzō, going through the motions as though a wall separated him from the rest of the world. It was no genjutsu that he could break out of or a physical affliction. The last time he’d experienced this had been directly in the days after Shisui’s death—still, he shied away from naming it grief.
It was completely unexpected, then, when a few words brought the world into unwelcome clarity.
“Did you hear?” Someone murmured at the table. “Hound quit ANBU.”
Weasel was better than freezing or stumbling. Under the safety of the mask, he blinked at the news, now sharply aware of everything around him and of his own body.
Hound? Quit ANBU? That was…absurd. Laughable, even. Hound?
“Hound quit?” someone else echoed his thoughts incredulously, not bothering with keeping their volume low, with everyone’s attention now centered on the conversation.
“Of course not,” a third nin, Beaver, interjected. “Canary’s just the only one gullible enough to fall for such a prank.” Itachi had to agree that the idea that Hound had…retired, stretched the bounds of credulity, but disagreed with Beaver’s assessment of the situation. Canary’s skills were beyond reproach—the same could not be said of Beaver—which made it all the more confusing that such a claim came from them.
“Did not,” Canary refuted with displeasure. “I swear it’s true. I heard one of Hound’s neighbours say it earlier this morning,” they explained, not even bothering to pretend not to know Hound’s identity.
“There’s no way–” the speaker cut themselves off when the official door opened, revealing Cat, and behind him, the commander. As one, every agent in the room straightened.
“At ease,” the commander waved them off. The atmosphere remained strained. “Since you’re all huge gossips, I’m here to tell you that yes, Hound has retired from ANBU.” The room was as silent as a room full of ninjas could be. “I said retired, not dead,” the commander added gruffly. “Weasel!” He straightened even more at the call. “Cat’s on your team from now on. No missions today, use the time for training. Everyone else, you have your assignments. Don’t die.” And with those warm words, the commander left
It was quiet for a moment, and then it seemed as though everyone tried speaking at once, almost shouting questions at Cat who famously got along with Hound. Weasel was unpleasantly reminded of the short time he spent in the academy, surrounded by rowdy children. Quickly, he signaled Cat, Beetle and Trout and escaped headquarters to the ANBU training rooms.
~~~
Integrating Cat into the team went overall smoothly that afternoon. Cat was one of the best as well as one of the most professional nin he had gotten to work with. They were accustomed to each other’s fighting style as well, from almost two years under Hound-taicho’s command together.
So, logically, when Weasel dismissed his team, both he and Cat should have left. Yet Weasel remained, and so did Cat, looking as expectant as an animal mask could.
“Hound-taichō is well?”
Cat inclined his head. “Yes.”
“I do not mean to be indiscrete,” he hesitated and trailed off, “do you know why…?”
“You should ask taichō. He’s staying at the Hatake compound,” that was almost as shocking news as his quitting. “He’ll be happy to see you.”
“Hn. Thank you,” he nodded his goodbyes and left, somewhat disconcerted, but unable to pinpoint the source of his unease.
Weasel changed out of his ANBU uniform, and Itachi started heading home towards the Uchiha compound on the outskirts of the village. The academy would have let out the students a little while ago and Sasuke would be done with his homework by now. He would not be expecting Itachi to come by, for he was rarely free so early in the evening, and would be quite thrilled if he were to show up. As Itachi crossed through the streets, enjoying the bustling activity he seldom got to partake in, the topic of Hatake Kakashi returned to the forefront of his thoughts.
More specifically, a conversation from two years ago, one Itachi had done his best to forget. Freshly recruited into ANBU and newly assigned to Hound-taichō’s team, Itachi hadn’t known what to expect when his captain had found him for a private talk, masks off, but it certainly hadn’t been what followed.
“You’re attracting a lot of attention, and many people will want things from you, now,” Kakashi had said. They already do, Itachi had thought. “Shimura Danzō will be one of those people.” The councilman? “He is not someone easily turned away, but you should remember, kōhai,” Kakashi’s visible eye had seemed to swallow all light, dark gaze fixed on him, “that he can’t be trusted. Be wary of him.” Why would Hatake Kakashi warn him against the Sandaime’s friend? How disloyal, to imply that the Third’s own advisor was traitorous. Foolish, too, to act like trust had anything to do with it. Good shinobi follow their superior’s orders, not their friend’s requests. If Itachi had any less respect for his captain, those words might have made their way to others’ ears. In the end, he’d disregarded the exchange and hadn’t spared it a second when Shimura Danzō had approached him.
Yet, had he not put his trust in Danzō all this time? Heeding his orders as though they were the Hokage’s own? Only for Shisui to be attacked within Konoha itself, his eye stolen, and the whole thing to be covered up as a simple suicide.
Now with the ultimatum from Danzō, how could he not be reminded of Kakashi’s words and implications? Though he'd been confident in his choice only minutes ago, to spare his brother and execute his clan for the sake of Konoha and the peace of all nations, doubt suddenly assailed him. He had Danzō’s orders certainly, but Danzō was neither his Hokage nor his commander, nor even his captain. Was this really the Hokage’s wish? Would this truly protect Konoha’s peace? A coup by the Uchiha clan would put Konoha in danger, and more even beyond their walls, as it could incite the other hidden villages to declare war on them, perceiving weakness. On the other hand, would the extermination of the Uchiha also not be seen as a weakness? Certainly, it would not be discreet.
Danzō had assured him such a course of action was imperative, and what his father and elders intended was certainly unacceptable, but…Was this truly the best path forward? How could he stop his clan yet protect the Village?
“Be wary of him.” Itachi had arrogantly thought himself beyond such advice.
Taking to the roofs of the Uchiha compound, he let his thoughts keep circling the matter, unable to detangle the complex feelings it brought up. He found Sasuke neither in their yard nor their house, unexpectedly, but at one of the communal training grounds their parents did not often allow him to go to. There he was, training or more accurately playing with distant cousins. Unlike usual, Itachi let his attention wander past his otouto to his playmates. Terrible aim, sloppy forms, incomplete hand seals.
Children playing at being shinobi.
Children he would have to slaughter for their parents’ sins… Except it wasn’t even their parents’ sins, was it? It was Itachi’s father that would be the final voice on the matter, and therefore it was Itachi’s responsibility to fix it. Though the discontentment was palpable all throughout the district, few were actively involved in planning the coup. All the elders, most of their children, a few others, both active and retired shinobi, and Itachi’s own family were the ones plotting to betray the village. What of the bakers and seamstresses, the civilians and the children? Was it the Hokage’s will that they, too, die; would it preserve the peace? He’d let himself doubt for a moment, and now more and more misgivings were surfacing.
He could do it—kill both the guilty and the innocent without flinching—ANBU trained its agents well.
But should he?
Sasuke’s laugh and that of the other children rang out across the wind, but Itachi was gone before it could reach him.
He needed to know what Kakashi had meant that day. And if, perhaps, his old captain could guide him one last time.
~~~
Itachi stood before the door of the Hatake house, observing it for the first time. For a moment, he’d feared the gates would not let him in, but either the sealing had been undone or some had permissions, as he’d had no trouble getting on the property. He had no doubt, however, that Kakashi knew of his presence at his doorstep. The other man would probably ignore him until he knocked or left, which he was tempted to do.
He’d already come this far though, hiding from any patrols or observers. He could no longer dismiss what he’d heard.
“Shimura Danzō will be one of those people.”
What had Kakashi known?
The door slid open seconds after he’d rapped it and beyond it stood Hatake Kakashi, his posture laxer in jōnin greens than it’d been in ANBU blacks.
“Itachi-kun, what a pleasant surprise,” Kakashi greeted him with an eye smile. “To what do I owe this visit,” was asked with amusement. If other shinobi hadn’t already started prying to find out why he’d quit, they would soon.
“Congratulations on your retirement, taichō. I was hoping to ask for some guidance.”
“Oh? Well, of course, anything for my littlest kōhai.” He gestured him in with a flourish. “I even have a real teapot to make tea in,” saying so, he headed deeper into the house.
“Thank you,” Itachi murmured and slid off his sandals to lay on an old mat that had likely seen better decades.
The interior was better than he’d expected from the somewhat gloomy exterior. Some areas seemed closed off and others in the process of being cleaned, but it was overall very neat. The kitchen, where Kakashi pulled out a stool for him to sit, was spotless. Itachi sat in silence as the other went through the motions of preparing the tea, using a jutsu commonly used when camping in the wild instead of bothering with a kettle.
He waited until the tea was served and he took his first sip—oversteeped to the point of bitterness, why couldn’t his old captain drink tea normally—then spoke, still unsure about where to lead the conversation.
“I have been given an important assignment. Unofficial,” he demurred, they both knew what it implied, the unspoken rules of unspoken missions. He wouldn’t be expected to reveal any further details during their talk. “But I am wondering about the…” he paused, “origin of this mission, and how unofficial it truly is.”
Kakashi raised an eyebrow, likely not seeing where Itachi was headed with this. Itachi wasn’t sure where he was headed with this. He dithered over different ways to broach the subject, each new idea resulting in more and more oblique conversation that would frustrate them both.
Bluntness would have to do. “What did you mean when you said Danzō was untrustworthy?”
Kakashi’s full attention felt like a physical weight resting on him, despite the complete absence of killing intent. Outwardly, he had no reaction besides a slight head tilt and a half-lidded eye, his entire body still exuding pure laziness. Itachi wasn’t fooled. “What a strange thing to bring up two full years after. Did my words truly leave such an impression, Itachi-kun? I didn’t think what I said was that interesting.”
Ah. He’d given the impression that he was here on the councilman’s behalf, something which might actually lead to conflict. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to reveal more to reassure the older shinobi. He hadn’t felt this unsure about his entire world since his mother had been pregnant and announced he would have a little brother.
“Please state your reasoning, taichō,” he requests again, using a sentence familiar to them both from Itachi’s days as a fresh ANBU recruit in Kakashi’s team, when he’d lacked much in experience compared to his older teammates and had often wanted to know the why of decisions made. Hound had always answered, even if later or in roundabout ways. His captain had been very accommodating, unlike many commanding officers Itachi had worked under, who’d wanted to bring him down a peg at times or disliked the Uchiha. He was hoping that using this specific phrasing would impress upon Kakashi that he wanted to be able to follow his logic and see if it applied to his situation. It was possibly a slight play on sentiments, appealing to Kakashi’s dedication to caring for his teammates and to his playing the role of a mentor to Itachi, but he didn’t feel bad about it. Kakashi undoubtedly knew what he was doing. The question was, would he believe Itachi was being sincere.
Would he take a leap of faith and speak openly, the way Itachi was too afraid to do himself. Here was a kōhai, relying on his senpai to take the leap that divided them between loyalty and betrayal.
And, shocking Itachi despite being what he’d hoped for, Kakashi did exactly that. “Danzō ordered me to kill the Hokage.”
Itachi was shocked enough to forget himself for a moment; his eyes widened and his fingers jerked around the teacup.
“It was only a little after the Third was reinstated. Danzō sent multiple agents of his secret division after Sarutobi.”
“How did you learn of it? And why did he ask you, then?” Certain pieces were starting to come together, but he still needed to know more.
Kakashi gave him a scrutinizing glance. “I know you know about Root, though you may not have known the name.”
He frowned. He did know a little of Danzō’s own secret shinobi, though he had not known it was anything organized enough for a division name. The word root, though…
“Shisui was a Root agent. You probably heard many tree puns.”
“Ah.” Many of the things Shisui had said were recontextualizing themselves. Itachi batted away the tangle of humorous exasperation and deep grief the memories brought up to focus on the present. “Yes, I did. I thought it was in reference to Konoha.”
“It was, and it wasn't,” he hummed. “I was in Root too, for a short time. That was how I learned of Danzō’s attempts, and why I received the order as well. The Sandaime forgave him his attempts,” he said in a neutral tone, giving no hint as to his opinion of that decision.
They remained quiet for a moment, Kakashi letting digest the news.
“I am also fairly confident that the experiments that ran Orochimaru out of the village were either done on Danzō’s orders or at the very least with his approval.”
Itachi paused. That was unexpected. Orochimaru’s crimes were no secrets. He was very publicly chased out of Konoha by the Third himself. It had everyone concerned; the last Sannin in the village, branded a traitor. The details of the affair, however, were much scarcer than the rumours. His father had been stony in his anger at the time. Itachi hadn’t been given much more information than the general shinobi population, newly graduated from the academy. Still, what he knew…
“Then, the people who disappeared—?”
“I don’t have access to the Police reports,” he said idly, as if he couldn’t easily access them with his skills if he wanted, or perhaps even just by asking, “but I would bet the rate of disappearance hasn't changed much, and is being suppressed like it was during Orochimaru’s time.”
Meaning he had actually investigated this and had enough to believe it was the case, but not enough to prove it. His father had talked of Itachi working for the Police force when he was older, a tradition for most Uchiha nin, and a good stepping stone for his father’s dream of Itachi becoming Hokage. A dream he'd talked about before a coup became the best solution in his eyes. Yet, if what taichō suggested was true, then were the Uchiha complicit in whatever had happened? Or perhaps, they weren't, and that was the problem. Had Itachi been neglecting to see the wider picture by being so embroiled within the plots of his clan and superiors? He would need to do his own investigation, though he doubted his findings would differ from Kakashi’s.
“Nobody knew until everybody knew, isn't that funny?”
Itachi stayed silent, and took a sip of the now lukewarm tea, which was somehow even worse than earlier. Kakashi let him collect his thoughts, chin resting on his palm, elbow on the counter.
If he was being honest with himself, he believed Kakashi’s slightly bold claims. What was he to do, then? Danzō’s orders might be unsanctioned and malicious in nature, but his clan’s plans of revolt were also unconscionable. He had to stop his elders’ machinations but… Clan annihilation was not the solution. For Konoha and her people, and the Uchiha who were her people still, this could not be the path forward.
Relief swelled up abruptly as his resolve solidified, for perhaps this way Shisui wouldn't be terribly disappointed in him. Yet, the fear and uncertainty that had plagued him the past months remained. Danzō’s plans were wrong, but what was he to do now? What was he supposed to do, if not follow the orders he was given?”
The teacup clinked delicately as it was laid on the countertop. Itachi bowed over the stony surface, hands laid flat against it.
“Hatake-san, please help me,” he implored, distress audible though his features stayed stiff.
“Itachi,” Kakashi cut him off, and shocked him by grabbing his shoulders. He pulled him up, and Itachi resisted against the movement, unwilling to let his plea go unheard so quickly when he'd finally found his courage. “Itachi,” he repeated, worry shining through his voice, “that's not necessary. What did Danzō tell you to do?”
He raised his head, making eye contact. “The Uchiha are planning a coup. Danzō believes the only way to preserve the peace is to kill them all. I've been ordered to do it if I want to save my otouto’s life. It can't be the only way. Please, I don't know how to stop them, Kakashi.”
Kakashi’s visible eye had widened more than he'd ever seen. He had the fleeting thought it would probably be the only time he'd ever see the older ninja taken so off guard. The spark of humour died quickly under the dread of the situation.
“Well. I can’t say I expected that,” he said faintly.
“Taichō, please.” He wouldn’t go back on his decision, but he now had to stop both the Uchiha and Danzō, and maintain Konoha’s safety.
The hands on his shoulders tightened. “I’ll help. Of course I’ll help,” he swore. “But you need to let me involve other people,” Itachi nodded, what were a few more now that he was throwing all caution to the wind, “and I need to know everything.”
Itachi sat back in his stool and took a deep breath. “I suppose it started when Shisui pulled me aside…”