The Multiverse of Stars

Shisui was jerked back to consciousness by the sound of an explosion.

It rocked the ground beneath his spine, the shock of it causing him to automatically suck in a breath only to gag on the dust that filled his throat. He was sprawled like a discarded doll on top of uneven rubble, clothes saturated with water; he squirmed, disoriented enough that he could hardly tell up from down, and was immediately rewarded by the  bloom of agony from the right side of his face. Shisui gritted his teeth against the pain, frantically trying to crush the urge to open his remaining eye - because the other was gone - and control the spasm of muscles and torn ligaments from the empty socket - from his stolen eye. It was enough to almost pitch him headfirst into unconsciousness again and only the warring desire to empty his stomach kept him at least partially coherent.

From above, slowly piercing through the ringing of his ears, came something almost like the sound like construction work but not - it was like nothing Shisui had heard before, almost a drill and almost a landslide from the ground above the hole he'd landed though. There was only one option; this was a warzone, the air ripe with blood and screams, chakra signatures spluttering like candles puffed out as people died. The vulnerability of his position, so weak and exposed, was intolerable.

He was a sitting target, he was asking to be crushed or killed. He couldn't stay there a single moment longer.

Shisui had to move.

He dragged himself through the rubble, scrambling blindly for purchase and cataloguing the numerous pains of his body. He marvelled that he was somehow still alive despite being quite literally lying in some strange, destroyed sewer. The pavement above had been hit by a great force - some kind of explosive seal or an earth jutsu, Shisui assumed, although he couldn't detect the chakra residue he should've been able to sense in the aftermath. The stone had collapsed inwards, leaving Shisui cold and filthy in about a foot of stagnant sewage water. His arms were smeared with dust, turned to mud where it was soaked, but there didn't seem to be anything more grim that could’ve been in the water; the air was also surprisingly clear of the scent of waste, human or otherwise; whatever these sewers were used for, he’d been lucky not to land in literal shit.

His limbs - somehow - intact, Shisui shuffle crawled his way out of the ring of light flooding through the wreckage above, trying to avoid the fresh stream of blood that trailed over the curve of his cheekbone and the point of his chin to darken the stone beneath him. He needed shelter, clean water, bandages, a plan-

He didn't know how, why, he was here. One moment he’d been at the Naka Shrine, meeting with Elder Danzo, and the next-

Kotoamatsukami, Shisui knew, and felt in his gut that it was true.

He’d never managed to actually go through with activating his Mangekyou like that before. Kami-knew what it had done but apparently transporting him into a new place, and landing him very forcefully into the middle of other people’s problems, wasn't off the cards.

The universe-shaper, the Uchiha scrolls had called it. It had been theoretical before Shisui, a vision given to ancestors so far back that there was no way to trace who they’d really been related to anymore; Shisui had been forced to scour the records when his had activated, the Elders unable to recognise the patterns that had developed in his eyes. He'd been shockingly young too, at nine - the youngest yet.

As it was, unlike Itachi's prematurely developing cataracts, Shisui's vision had yet to begin diminishing despite the heavy usage, unlike the elder Uchiha who went blind in a few years, so Shisui had kind of been hoping that he’d unlocked the ‘no cataracts’ Mangekyou technique. Shisui had always been a quick reader - the quicker his school and, later, paperwork was done, the better - but it had taken scouring almost the entire Clan collection before he’d pieced together that Kotoamatsukami matched his eye pattern best. That had only been the start of the work, however; he’d needed to work out how it worked, try to fumble in the dark of what it was capable of, and that meant one-on-one training with Fugaku-sama, who was not great company on the best of days. He was also intimidating as fuck but the whole dynamic had netted Shisui an introduction - and, later, the start of a friendship - with Itachi-kun, so Shisui figured it was an overall net win.

The point was, Shisui had used Kotoamatsukami blind; half-blind if he was going to be flippant about it, metaphorically and - fuck - literally. Because he’d had his right eye stolen and freaked out a second later and ripped a hole in reality.

Apparently.

If he ever saw Fugaku-sama again, Shisui was going to be so dead over that - fuck - blind misuse. If he didn't die first.

What were the chances Danzo had already done something to the Clan, or that the Clan had retaliated to Shisui going missing? Very high, Shisui decided, focusing on the hypothetical rather than the way his - remaining - vision swam sickeningly when he tentatively peeled back his lid.

He managed to crawl to the furthest wall of the sewer, close to a bend in the tunnel, and propped his shoulder against the stone. The cold sank through the thin material of his shirt, a shock against his skin that was now flushed with a feverish kind of exertion, before he dug in his feet to push himself upright. His shoulderblades dragged against the wall as he started to walk, upright from sheer stubbornness. Kami-knew he didn't know how he mustered the strength for it.

How was he going to get back? Shisui wondered. He had his tantō, he could feel the holster digging in, and he had his pack on his thigh as usual, but- he didn't have his ANBU armour, half the weaponry he usually carried for a mission, and he had no fucking clue where he was. This was not Konoha, he couldn't catch even the furthest wisps of his Clan’s distinctive, smokey chakra, not to mention the unique flow of chakra through the forest of Hashirama trees that encircled the entire valley. This wasn't Konoha and, in fact - as any Konohan nin could tell - this was likely not Fire Country at all.

Where the fuck was he?

The answer to that question was, unfortunately, both simply found and impossible to answer. Somehow. Simultaneously.

“Who are you?” The kid snarled, holding a butcher's knife like an undersized sword.

Shisui couldn't help the twitch of his eyebrow. He'd be amused if he wasn't in so much pain; as it was, he was a little impressed by the guts it took. The kid was half his size.

Shisui'd decided to follow the tunnel wherever it took him - hopefully out to open water but a drainage system would also suffice - only to find the tunnel drying out until he found himself surrounded by crates of what looked like supplies. Curious, despite everything, Shisui had cracked one open to have a nosey - besides the bandages, he had literally no idea what any of the squishy pouches were - but, hey, fresh bandages. However, when he’d started moving even deeper into the tunnel, he’d been confronted with a chakra signature so small it was barely more than a flicker. One that, it turned out, belonged to a half-starved child.

Shisui blinked, abruptly remembered he was missing an eye and he shouldn't aggravate the muscles at all if possible, and hunched over with a hiss of agony through gritted teeth. Son of a-

“Answer me!” The kid demanded, knife shaking violently.

Oh Kami-

“I’m lost, okay?” Shisui snapped, planting a hand on his knee, and squinting at the kid through his single tear-filled eye. Oh fuck, he was half blind, shit- “This bastard Elder stole my eye and dropped me through a drain, is that what you wanted to hear?”

The kid’s expression crumpled with disgust and anger, and their grip on the weird knife didn’t loosen but their shoulders did come down from around their ears. “An Elder did that to you?”

“Yes.”

“Kriffing Elders…,” the kid muttered, eying Shisui with noticeably less panic, before they spat to one side like they’d tasted something foul. Then they were back to assessing Shisui - and they had both eyes, Kami they'd better appreciate that fact - with a murky blue gaze that only made their grubby skin and dusty brown hair look even worse compared. “You look… are you a Middle, or what?”

A middle child? Shsiui wondered. He was an only child - Tsume-sama had once said she smelled it on him, whatever that had meant -

Shisui flattened his mouth. This kid seemed the type to appreciate not being a suck-up, which meant youth was in his favour. They were, what, nine? “I'm sixteen, if that helps.”

The kid’s grip squeezed on the knife handle. “So you're a Middle,” they decided. The sneer was back with a vengeance but at least they weren't brandishing the knife again. “What? Get sick of taking orders and decide to run from that stupid war?”

Interesting.

Well, Shisui had been ANBU. He knew when to play along; the key to a really good genjutsu was lying - half the work of a great lie was knowing how to blend out the seams into reality - and there was no better lie than those other people told themselves.

“Something like that,” Shisui played along. If the kid had some weird ageism going on and was some kind of objector in a war… Shisui could read a room. “It turns out being raised to fight, making killing your sole purpose, gets old fast.”

That, if anything, was enough to get the kid to snort, a strange kind of humour twisting their face. It was the half-smiles exchanged in the Jounin locker rooms, the kind that said ‘the world sucks but at least we’re still alive to laugh at it’. His own smiles, especially since the whole ‘Coup’ mess started, had been feeling more and more like grimaces.

“You here to defect, then?” The kid scrubbed their nose with their forearm and nearly took out their own eye - oh Kami, did they not appreciate how precious they were? - with the knife still in their hand. “Never had a defector before.”

Shisui held up the roll of bandages he’d pilfered - not counting the three rolls squished into his thigh pouch. “I was being a little more shortsighted, to be honest.”

Oh Kami, that was too soon, fuck-

The kid snorted again, shuffling in place, and Shisui could see that - whilst the kid didn't, couldn't relax around him - they had softened a bit. Good. One murder attempt a day was enough for Shisui, thanks. He’d hate to kill a kid this young too, and the insinuation that there are more of them, kids defecting from the conflict, was enough to stir what little remained of Shisui’s conscience. He’d done a lot worse on missions but that was all swept under the blanket reasoning of ‘for the good of the village’; Shisui’s literal-metaphorical compass couldn't place Konoha on the map in this conflict, so there was no way of orienting the kids to the wellbeing of his village and therefore that meant hurting or protecting them were decisions removed from his duty. Whether killing them would somehow hurt or help his village… he didn't know and that meant Shisui was, perhaps for the first time in his life, going rogue.

It would've been novel, maybe even liberating, if Shisui hadn't already been clawing at the walls to get back.

The kid examined the… mess that was the right side of Shisui’s head and nodded absentmindedly, looking torn between interest and grossed out. Then, as if they couldn't help themself, “the Elder just- ripped it out?”

Shisui grimaced, shoving the sensory flashbacks away. “With his fingers, yeah, scared the cr- crumbs out of me.”

The kid looked at him flatly. “You can say ‘kriff’.”

Shisui had never heard that weird swear before in his life. “Sure."

“His fingers?” The kid continued, shuffling closer a step like they couldn't help themself before remembering that Shisui was an unknown and bringing their knife up again. “Why not a tool? That's disgusting, what was the point?”

“I saw something I shouldn't have.” Shisui decided to try his luck. “Sadistic asshole, I've no doubt he’d have killed me when he was done.” Yeah, done looting my body for my bloodline, that backstabbing bastard-

“Saw something?” The kid snapped, an unholy shine in their eye. Eyes. “Saw what?”

And- gotcha.

“I'm not going to just tell anyone,” Shisui huffed, setting his teeth into the inside of his cheek against the urge to move his facial muscles more than necessary. This kid wasn't worth raising an eyebrow and vomiting his guts up from the pain. “You take me to whoever is running this-” rebellion “-party and I'll agree to share my… insider knowledge in exchange for medical attention. Deal?”

The kid set their jaw and leveraged their knife. “Do you have a blaster?”

Shisui didn't know what that was. “No.”

“You have a sword.” The kid’s eyes flickered to the pommel sticking out over Shisui's shoulder. “Drop it - slowly.”

Shisui would rather not but, half-blind and exhausted, he was still more than confident that he could take this kid. Starved nine-year-old versus an Uchiha Jounin? Sucker's bet.

Shisui, rather than spook the skittish brat by touching the blade itself, undid the buckle under his armpit and slowly slid the whole holster from his shoulders, holding it out by the strap, which the kid snatched up. They tugged the tantō out, eyes blowing wide at the sight of the blade - a proper one, and maybe they'd never seen one up close if a kitchen knife was what they were working with - before slinging it over their own shoulder.

“You go first,” they twitched their head towards the tunnel behind them. “Hands on head. Walk slow.”

Shisui bit his cheek against another raised brow and did as ordered, elbows sticking out at ninety-degree angles and his fingers casually laced against the crown of his head. He passed the kid with slow, deliberate steps, and bit his cheek harder when he felt the - blunt - tip of the knife nudging at the base of his spine. He had to give it to the kid for committing.

They walked for a while, no more than ten minutes at a snail's pace, before the dim thrum of weakened chakra signatures - more malnourished children, Shisui was certain - flickered into his range. The darkness of the tunnel - it was dry, and obviously occupied, so the sewers must've been abandoned or blocked off… which didn’t bode well for the situation up-top, if the infrastructure had failed to this extent - slowly brightened as cheap battery lamps came into view, one per tunnel; the kid turned them off as they passed, the click of the plastic loud amidst their breathing and the unlocatable drip of water somewhere.

The silence finally started to fade, the shuffle and murmur of young voices  growing nearer, echoing oddly as they turned what Shisui thought must be the final corner, before the kid whistled, a single sharp note and a hush fell; broken only by the scramble of feet.

They stepped out into into a wider hall - from the outcropping of stone that ran around the edge, Shisui suspected it had been some kind of storm drain - and Shisui found himself confronted by dozens - and he meant dozens - of scrawny kids, staring at him like a tiger had been let into the Academy classroom. Or, maybe, that a tiger had been let into the cage of the wild dogs.

“What's the meaning of this, Dano?” A girl, one of the eldest by her height - with a mop of hair that might have been red if it was anything near clean - demanded as she shuffled toddlers behind her. “Who is he?”

“He defected,” the kid - Dano - replied, jabbing Shisui with his knife as if to illustrate his point. “An Elder ripped his eye out with his bare hands for nosing around and he’s decided ‘kriff ‘em’!”

The girl’s expression hardened further. “The Middles don't live long,” she countered, staring directly into Shisui's remaining eye. “And those that do don't just leave. How can we trust you?”

“Only proof can help you trust me,” Shisui reasoned, pitching his voice to shake a little, “and I doubt anything I come out with is going to satisfy you. So, why don't we-”

Now, this was about the time when Shisui would’ve started to subtly lay the groundwork for an absolutely killer genjutsu, the kind of multi-layer weave that would take another Uchiha - or, Kami forbid, a Byakugan - to have a prayer of unravelling it but he hit a small snag. And by ‘small’, Shisui meant a massive problem.

There was a strong chakra signature running towards them.

Shisui didn't allow himself to waver, faking a moment as if to gather his nerve to continue, whilst mentally noting the way the signature flared at the recognition of his own chakra strength and doubled in speed. A moment later-

A kid - the girl’s age, with hair closer to bronze than her carrot-red - skidded through the opposite tunnel entrance, and Shisui knew the game was fucked before he’d even started because this kid was strong .

He was thin, too thin, but even through his loosely woven shirt, Shisui immediately picked out the kind of musculature that kenjutsu built up over a long time. He’d skidded into a classic fighter’s lunge for Kami’s sake, braced for an attack with a strange weapon in his hands. His blue-green eyes were wide and hopeful and hard and his chakra was- well, it was-

Shisui had never, in all the ANBU missions he’d taken, known someone that felt like that.

“You’re not a Jedi,” the newest kid gasped. “I thought-”

“Ben?” The girl asked, glancing at him askance. Shisui could almost taste her uncertainty.

The kid, Ben, seemed just as incapable of looking away from Shisui as Shisui was from him. “In the Force-

The what now?

“-you're strong,” Shisui finished. His face relaxed, marvelling at the oddest flux of energy he'd ever seen before; there was no elemental nature, no hint of an affinity, but just pure energy. Without that bias, the influence of how chakra behaved, it was almost shocking how easily Shisui could detect how the kid was feeling, catching odd snippets he realised must've been impressions of pure self.

It was like looking at a tiny Bijuu, like the Elders’ stories of Sage chakra, and Shisui didn't know what this meant except that it changed everything.

The Force, the kid, Ben, had said; Shisui was nothing if not adaptable.

“You feel it too.” Ben's chakra was reeling; Shisui pressed his advantage, as surprised as he also was. “You're strong in the Force.”

Something shifted in Ben's eyes, in the girl's next to him.

Aha.

Gotcha.