Chapter one
Fugaku and Mikoto sat together on the wooden steps of the backyard, watching their two sons happily.
Three-year-old Sasuke was curled up on Itachi’s lap, small enough to fit. Itachi spoke softly to his younger sibling, and Sasuke, in return, snuggled into Itachi’s shoulder. His hand rested on the younger Uchiha’s head, fingers unknotting the tangles of black hair.
Sasuke grinned toothily at Itachi’s stories, and Itachi smiled back, a rare gesture nowadays. Sasuke said something about his brother being the best in the world, his words filled with glee and pride at having Itachi as his brother. Itachi laughed, a little huff that just barely passed for an expression of joy.
Mikoto had been scared of how Itachi would react to his little brother, especially because of how withdrawn he had been after Fugaku took him to see the battlefields. For the next year, he either trained until his hands were bloodied or quietly studied in his room, not coming out for anything but dinner.
His mannerisms became reserved, and he seemed too old for someone so young. She hated how her child had been forced to bear the weight of watching so many people die at such a young age.
She remembered Itachi coming back from that awful place, unharmed but shaken. She had fretted the entire time, muttering prayers that they would both come home safely. When Fugaku and Itachi returned, she had wrapped her arms around Itachi and checked him for injuries. He was unscathed. She expected him to cry or lash out, scream and shout, but he did none of that. He stayed silent and still, staring off into the air.
After two hours of Fugaku trying to convince her that he was fine and just needed some time to rest, she considered calling a doctor. Finally, Itachi spoke.
“Why?” His voice was hoarse, but there was no sadness or anger in it. He was utterly devoid of anything human. It was terrifying, seeing her child like that.
Before Mikoto could speak to comfort him, Fugaku jumped in.
“That is what the world really is, Itachi.”
“I don’t understand. Why must you show me this?” Itachi stared at them as if he could still see the soulless and bloodied bodies scattered in the reflections of their eyes. “Those people…”
“We are Shinobi.” Fugaku reprimanded firmly, “This is a part of being one.”
Itachi’s eyes trailed off to the side, not disappointed or ashamed, just numb. He falls back into silence.
Unable to do anything that day, she tried to distract herself by talking to Kushina. She knew she should’ve tried to comfort him, but she couldn’t bring anything to exit her mouth.
She had yelled at Fugaku after she got her energy back. The Uchiha were destined to become ninjas, yes, but taking a four year old to see bloodshed and the horrors of war was too far. She told him how Itachi could’ve gotten killed in his process of ‘showing him what the world really was’ and that the experience would haunt him forever.
Fugaku had apologized after much arguing, and swore he would never do the same to their next child. But, what had been done has been done, and Itachi has never been the same since.
When she first came home with the baby, the infant had wailed, tears rolling down his reddened face. The little bundle of blankets writhed in her attempts to keep him still, and his shrieks stung her ears. Her heart hurt at her child crying, and Fugaku offered to take the baby. Before she could hand it to him, she felt a small tug on her shirt as Itachi quietly asked if he could hold the baby.
Mikoto, surprised, knelt down and told him how to hold the baby properly. Itachi had taken Sasuke from her arms with gentleness unfitting for a future ninja. Sasuke immediately stopped crying and screaming, peering up at the new face looking down at him with curiosity. Soon after, Sasuke fell asleep in his arms, and Fugaku took him to the crib.
After that, Itachi began to come out of his room more often, just to spend time with Sasuke. He held Sasuke for the majority of the time, since Sasuke would cry whenever he was handed to someone else. Itachi had taught the child how to walk and talk, spending all his free time with him. It seemed like something that had been missing in Itachi since after witnessing so many deaths had been replaced by Sasuke. As soon as he could speak full sentences, he would beg to spend time with his older brother constantly.
Mikoto smiled at how close the brothers are, proud of what a good big brother Itachi has become. She wondered how Sasuke would be when he grows up.
“Mikoto, I want you to come inside.” Fugaku said, “I need to show you something before I send it to the Hokage.”
Mikoto couldn’t help but feel surprised at the offer. She had retired from active duty as a Jonin after giving birth, so being asked to help with a case so important that it was going to be sent to the Hokage is strange.
“Very well.” She stood up and followed Fugaku to their shared room. It was painted a warm white and had a window on the side and a large futon in the middle. The room was as clean as usual, all their clothes folded neatly in drawers and the blankets stacked on the corner of the futon. A small wooden desk was in the corner, stacked with startling amounts of paperwork that could rival the amount the Hokage gets.
Mikoto remembered catching Fugaku spending all night filling out papers messily, grumbling to himself. The troublesome sight looked awfully glorified under the sunlight cascading from the window.
He crossed the room in four big steps, opened a drawer, and pulled out a large scroll. Mikoto couldn’t help but gape at the thought of her husband keeping a potentially dangerous item in such a casual place. Maybe some of that showed on her face because Fugaku was quick to explain.
“Someone found this scroll on a mission, and after checking its stability, they brought it to the police force.” He explained, taking the scroll and setting it on the table. “We are planning to bring it to the Hokage, but I want to try and figure out how it works.”
“And you brought me here for…?” She prodded. Her hand strummed the table lightly.
“I know that you have done extensive studies in scrolls and are proficient at identifying them.” Fugaku said, a little fondly. “I want you to help me with getting information from the scroll without the potential of activating it.”
“Ah, I see.” Mikoto shuffled over to the desk and studied the scroll intently, feeling the rough paper underneath her fingertips. Fugaku looked like he wanted to interject. “It’s unlike anything I had ever seen before..”
Fugaku looked a bit disappointed at that and reached for the scroll with a sigh. Mikoto could see in slow motion his fingertips brushing against the paper and how the scroll unraveled, seemingly by itself.
A blinding white light engulfed them both.
Mikoto closed her eyes instinctively, her eyelids doing little to spare her from the assault. She prepared herself for a loud explosion, praying that her children will be alright. Her ears popped, but not from the sound. She felt Fugaku grip her shoulders as he pushed his way in front of her, shielding her body with his.
She felt like she was being dragged and warped through the whiteness all around her, and when the light faded and everything went black once again, she cracked open an eye.
Her vision was dotted with orange spots and patches of fuzziness. She immediately checks around her, and realizes that they have been transported outside of Konoha. She whirls around, looking for Fugaku, and finds him bedraggled and boggling at what had happened.
Then four unexpected faces mimicked the shock on Fugaku’s face.
Inabi, Yashiro, and Tekka. The three had recently been promoted to the police force by Fugaku. He had mused that the three were extremely talented shinobis but unfortunately had too little humility.
But the fourth face…
“Shisui!?”
“What did you do?” Inabi sneered at Mikoto, then saw Fugaku and Shisui and immediately caught himself. “S-sir.” He greeted.
“Woah,” Shisui said, looking at his palms, “What the–”
The sharp eleven year old whirled around un-shinobi-like-ly to check his surroundings.
Fortunately for them, Fugaku was too busy examining where they were to defend his wife or explain to Shisui.
The three were obediently silent when he turned around. Mikoto studied the landscapes around them.They were standing on a dirt path with trees lining one side and a lake on the other. Railings were unnecessary but there nonetheless. She could see Konoha towering over the trees in the distance.
It was colder than it was at their house and the air was drier. The grass still thrived despite the sharp sting of wind, the lake barely rippled at the wind, and the trees seemed restless.
“It seems like the scroll teleported us away from Konoha.” Fugaku said, his sharp gaze traveled over the three men and eleven year old, “It only teleported the people who made contact with it. You three were the ones who found the scroll and brought it in.” He turned to Shisui, “You were the one who tested if it was stable.”
Funny, Mikoto mused in her head, letting an eleven year old tamper with this scroll.
Fugaku’s voice wasn’t casual like how he is with her, it was strict and had a hard edge to it. He wasn’t her husband or even Itachi and Sasuke’s father at the moment, he was chief of the police force.
Mikoto noticed that a part of her Chakra was missing.
“All of us have a part of our Chakra used to teleport us here,” Fugaku continued, as if reading her mind. Inabi, Yashiro, and Tekka nodded in agreement and Mikoto wasn’t sure if they actually meant it or they were just scared to disagree with Fugaku. Shisui says nothing.
“We did not teleport.” Mikoto spoke up, and five heads all turned to her. “That was some kind of variation of the space-time Scroll. We traveled through time.”
“That’s ridiculous!” Yashiro hissed, but fell silent when Fugaku raised a hand.
“It can very much be possible.” Fugaku emended. “Although, space-time scrolls can also be used for teleportation.”
Shisui gestured to Konoha behind them, “Konoha looks different, we are either in the future or the past, sir.”
Fugaku hesitated, “These buildings are absolutely new, we are likely in the future or very far in the past.” The muscle in his jaw twitched as he thought.
The members of the police force remained completely silent, as stiff as a rod and standing in a perfect line.
“Sir, our best option is to try and reach the Hokage.” Tekka offered. Yashiro nodded in agreement.
Fugaku sighed. “You’re right.” He said finally. “They should be able to recognize me.”
Mikoto wondered if the Uchiha clan and Konoha finally made a truce in the future, if not, and war broke out…
She shook her head, not wanting to think that thought.
But what if the Uchihas had really started a civil war?
What has become of us?
Fugaku couldn’t quite wrap his head around what was happening.
The scroll had opened and white light had swallowed both him and Mikoto. The next moments were a blur as he threw himself against Mikoto to shield her from a potential explosion, knowing that if it was an explosion, both of them were going to die no matter what he did.
If Minato was in his place and Kushina was in Mikoto’s, he would’ve found a way to save himself and his wife.
He hoped his sons were safe.
Maybe he hadn’t been the best father, or maybe he wasn’t even a good father.
You never know what kind of man you become until your end. A voice that wasn’t his whispered in his head.
After all, he had brought his four year old son to see a battlefield filled with bloodshed.
But he couldn’t say he regretted it either. It had made Itachi strong and worthy of being the Uchiha heir. He was naturally talented, yes, but talent wasn’t enough to prepare the Uchiha heir to take over.
Instead of feeling scorching pain over his body or waking up in the afterlife, he opened his eyes to find himself somewhere else.
Instinctively, he activated his sharingan to disperse any kind of genjutsu, but found none. He looked around and found Mikoto, unharmed, but resisted the urge to sigh in relief when he saw Inabi, Yashiro, Tekka, and Shisui.
They were unexpected, but he sensed them way before he saw them with his eyes.
He searched for the scroll with his Sharingan, but found nothing but trees and still water. He had been so busy with that that he hadn’t even realized they were right out of Konoha until Mikoto said so. He immediately figures that they teleported, but realized that the buildings were different. Mikoto and Shisui thought they had time-traveled, which Fugaku was hesitant to agree on.
He had never heard of anything like it, yet he knew it was entirely possible.
They decided to head towards Konoha and discuss this with the Hokage. Shisui pointed out that it was possible that the Hokages were different but Fugaku argued that Konoha hadn’t changed that much. The three police force officers were quiet and respectful, probably afraid to lose their jobs. He doubted they liked Shisui or Mikoto, but they didn’t dare say. They had all argued against letting Mikoto and Shisui see the scroll before, as professionally and unbiased as they could manage.
They leaped through the trees, towards Konoha, as fast as possible. Fugaku made sure that Mikoto could catch up, and she did, being an ex-jonin. Shisui was fast, faster than the three officers, which got him a few disdainful looks from them. Fugaku was glad Itachi had Shisui as his friend.
Branches whipped at his arms and face, and the wind was even colder now, blowing into his eyes mercilessly.
He took the lead, taking the nearest route to Konoha. The trees were not how he remembered, either, and it caught him off guard a couple times. He kept on checking back on Mikoto, worrying that she would tire and fall behind. Of course, Shisui caught up on this and checked on Mikoto himself for Fugaku. The talented shinobi slowed down so he was beside her and gave Fugaku a slightly reassuring glance.
Fugaku could hear the grumbles of Inabi, Yashiro, and Tekka, who had no trouble keeping up. He doesn’t think they are good people, but they are talented ninjas with good potential. Truth is, he was guilty of not paying much attention to the morality of the person he is promoting. Mikoto had pointed that out, but he had never bothered to change. All he needed were capable ninjas who could follow directions and respect their leader.
Being a ninja means being loyal, not having morality. Ninjas are to kill, even if it is against their morals, if it proves their loyalty. Morality is only a burden on the life of a ninja.
“Hey! Stop!”
Fugaku whips his head towards the sound. There, at least eight ANBU were staring up at them, the light seeping through the canopy casting an eerie glow across the animal masks.
Sasuke sat on the ground with Kakashi, Sakura, and Naruto.
The loud blonde tried to start a conversation with Sakura, only to be ignored and threatened to be mauled to death. Kakashi was smiling awkwardly while watching the two. Sasuke sulked besides Sakura, gloom reflected on his features.
“Sasuke, why don’t you stop moping about losing a spar to Naruto?”” Kakashi asked him, peering over his porn book at him.
“Yeah!” The annoying blonde piped up, echoing their Sensei’s words, “Stop moping!”
Sasuke doubted that he even knew what the word meant.
“I’m not moping.” Sasuke huffed, shifting so he wasn’t facing the others. He hunched over his lunch, picking at the leftover rice he made himself.
“Yeah, sure you aren’t!” Naruto said, his voice failing to give off the right amount of sarcasm. He sounded like he was heartily agreeing with Sasuke instead of a dry remark.
“Naruto, stop being mean to Sasuke-kun.” Sakura said.
“I’m not being mean!” Naruto yelped.
“Alright, my little Genins,” Kakashi said suddenly, standing up. “Lunch is over, we will meet at five.” He snapped the unholy book shut and waited for everyone to get up so he could get the picnic blanket.
Sasuke grumbled, but stood up with his lunch box and dusting himself off. Naruto hopped up, offering a hand to Sakura, but she slapped it away and got up by herself.
“Mean…” Naruto grumbled. Kakashi pulled the blanket off the ground in one sharp motion, making Naruto fall onto the grass unceremoniously. He stuck out his tongue to Kakashi and Sasuke.
Sasuke turned around, and stalked off towards his apartment.
“Hey! Wait up, Sasuke!” Naruto chased after him.
“What?” Sasuke demanded, hoping his irritation was clear.
Why won’t this bastard shut up?
Did he imagine a brief look of dejection on his teammate’s face?
“Would you and Sakura like to come to my house for some ramen?” Naruto asked, a little nervously? Sakura had caught up to them and was listening.
Oh, Sasuke realized, It's his birthday today. October tenth.
He remembered checking his calendar earlier, October tenth had an ‘x’ on it, but he had forgotten why he had put it there.
Did he want to say yes? Perhaps.
“You must kill your best friend and come face me with these eyes.” Itachi sneered in his head, his voice malicious and vile. The familiar voice sending invisible shudders down his back. He shook his head slightly, trying to clear the memories away.
No, he didn’t want to get close to Naruto or Sakura. He would never admit it, but he didn’t want them dead, let alone in his hands.
He swore to himself he would never follow Itachi’s footsteps. That he would never become the wretched creature his brother became that night. Just the thought of Itachi’s face made his skin pulse with rage, so blinding that his eyes would unfocus. His hands would itch to wrap his fingers around Itachi’s throat, or maybe his own.
But what he hated most, wasn’t Itachi, instead was how he didn’t completely hate him, couldn’t completely hate him. He had tried to deny it, telling himself that it was one of Itachi’s mind tricks. Even then, he couldn’t shake off the feeling of adoring his older brother, the kind smile as he poked his forehead, and familiar warm arms around him.
“Sure, Naruto.” Sakura said, blinking at him. The loud blonde grinned widely, looking much more confident. Sasuke wondered if Sakura found his question off-topic because she hadn’t remembered his birthday. She certainly looked befuddled to a good amount.
Naruto turned to him, expectations filled his gaze. It made Sasuke feel awful from the inside out, like the dread of breaking his mother’s vase before remembering she could be coming home any second.
Itachi had taken the blame.
“No.” He said, his voice leveled. “I have things to do.”
The disappointment on Naruto and Sakura’s made Sasuke feel like the worst person alive. He had hoped that telling them that he was busy would lighten the blow, but he had been foolish to think so. The stung felt like his own.
“Sorry, Sasuke, maybe next time.”
“Are you sure, Sasuke-kun?” Sakura asked, her voice a little pinched. She gave Naruto a weird look, and Sasuke realized that she probably only said yes because she thought that Sasuke would come.
Sasuke ignored her, turning his back to them and walking back to his apartment. The air felt far too thin. He didn’t want to see the look on their faces, so he started running as soon as he turned a corner.
His apartment was empty as usual, the bed taking up more than a quarter of the room. A small fridge filled with necessities was crammed near the entrance and his balcony was almost larger than the room itself. A small sofa was crammed in the corner, with barely enough room to sit.
Sasuke walked over and opened the balcony door slightly, letting the cool breeze seep through.
He flopped onto his unmade bed, staring up at his ceiling.
He thinks about his family. Back in a time where he was happy, warm, safe, loved. He hated how fuzzy and distant those memories feel.
He thinks about his brother. Beyond those bloodied hands gripping the sword that cut down his parents, he could remember his smile. He hated how those memories felt warmer than the ones with his parents in it. He could remember Itachi’s face easily, but not his parents.
He thinks about revenge. Cold, black hate clouding over the warmth that he was supposed to salvage. He could feel hatred in his veins, pain etched in his skin. His kunai slashing at Itachi’s throat before slitting his own. He felt no remorse, nor joy.
But surely he would feel satisfaction when it happens, wouldn’t he? He would be completing his goal, wiping a terrible mass murderer off the face of the world.
Could he really bring himself to smile after spilling the blood of his own brother on his hands?
The weather was perfect, the air cold and crisp and orange leaves drifting onto the ground.
Sasuke would’ve loved to be outside in this weather, Itachi thought, holding out a hand so one of the falling leaves landed on his palm. His Akatsuki cloak shifted in the wind, red clouds moving against the black backdrop.
“Itachi! Let's play outside!” Sasuke called, running over to Itachi to drag him outside.
“Alright, Sasuke.” Itachi was happy that he could finally spend time with him, after his exhausting missions. Sasuke took hold of his wrist and pulled him over to the door, waiting impatiently for him to put on his shoes.
The fall leaves whispered in the wind, already starting to fall after the summer. Itachi watched the grin on Sasuke’s face as he tried to catch the leaves, but they somehow managed to dodge his grasp.
“Oh, c’mon!” Sasuke complained.
Itachi caught a leaf with little problems and handed it to his younger brother. He smiled as Sasuke took it, and examined it for imperfections.
“I never knew you were someone who cared about the weather.” Kisame’s voice was behind him, a hint of amusement was under his voice. Itachi dropped his hand, letting the leaf fall to the ground, where it was supposed to be.
He ignored his partner.
“Has our leader given us a mission yet?” He asked Kisame, turning around. The shark man shook his head, Samehada heaved over his shoulder.
The forest was weirdly empty, the only sounds were the chirps of birds and the leaves. It was peaceful, something that seldom happened while being a missing-nin.
“I guess we should find somewhere to stay until we get handed another mission.” Kisame said, breaking the silence. They both knew they probably wouldn’t get another mission in a while.
“Alright.”
One day, Sasuke, you can kill me. You can become a hero, become strong, and live peacefully. No one can harm you after that.