Sasuke
“An assassin?” Sakura breathes, eyes wide with wonder. “I could be an assassin?”
“You could. You would make an excellent assassin,” Iruka smiles. “You could barrage your enemies with poisons and genjutsu, wait until they’re exhausted and confused, unsure if they’re under the effects of a poison or an illusion. And while they’re stumbling around, weak and out of chakra, you could slip behind them and slit their throat.” Sakura looks intrigued and excited at the prospect and Iruka isn’t sure what about that has her so ecstatic. “You’re capable of slipping into a room and exiting while leaving little evidence of your presence. With some training, I have no doubt, you could get in, kill your target, and get back out without a trace.”
“Eh? Sakura can be an assassin? That’s so badass!” Naruto cheers, grinning at Sakura bright enough that even Sasuke looks slightly less grumpy.
“It is, indeed,” Iruka smiles. Sakura had ended up on this team for a couple of reasons, but one of the reasons Iruka can’t tell her is because she has the potential to become an excellent poster child for civilian shinobi, which would help smooth the resentment between civilian and clan relationships in the education department.
There has always been a bit of a bias when creating genin teams. The best students get the best jounin and, quite frankly, civilian students are usually nowhere near as good as their clan counterparts. As a result, civilian students typically end up grouped together in formless teams and fail their jounin test while the elite of the clan students pass with more capable jounin.
Traditionally, there is no way Sakura would ever be assigned to a jounin of Kakashi’s calibre. Having Sakura on this team is one way for the Academy to continue to deny its favouritism for clan kids. It hadn’t been a conscious choice on Iruka’s part, more like a happy incident someone had noticed and promptly refused to allow Iruka to change for a team that was actually capable of functioning.
He hands Sakura’s file to her, watching as she opens it and her eyes skim over it with the speed of a chunin reading a mission brief. “I’ve attached a four-month training schedule to your file. If you follow it, you should catch up to the minimum physical fitness for genin.”
“Thanks, Iruka-sensei!” she chirps, “I’ll be sure to stick to it.”
Iruka smiles at her. There’s no way of knowing if she will. There’s no way of knowing how much any of what he’s said is getting through to her. Sakura, more than any of his other students, tests well. She’s capable of adhering to the standards of any test, meeting every single requirement with barely any effort. Earlier, Iruka told her that he needs her to be objective and focused on her training. He told her to treat her teammates the same.
So, that’s what she’s doing.
Iruka knows Sakura well enough to know that right now she’s following his words to the letter, but not to the spirit. He won’t know how much she’s taken to heart until later, when she’s left his classroom behind and is no longer trying to convince him that she can handle being a field ninja.
“Now, on to the next member of this squad, Sasuke.” Iruka feels a migraine form at the thought of dealing with the Uchiha, though he keeps his pleasant smile firmly attached to his face.
Is it too late to be a field agent instead of an academy teacher?
Sasuke has a slew of issues, the list pages long, and while he has a good reason for it that doesn’t change the fact that it prevents him from properly functioning in the field. “Sasuke,” Iruka says calmly, pretending his head isn’t pounding to the thrum of war drums at the thought of going through this evaluation, “my primary recommendation is that you exit the ninja program.”
Sasuke who’d looked confident and determined pauses for a moment, his emotions slowly fizzling out. Then the anger comes. “What? Why would I need to—”
“Because you need therapy.” Iruka answers before the boy can finish. Sasuke’s mouth snaps shut at Iruka’s words. They’ve had this conversation before. They had this conversation at the beginning of the year when Iruka realized that despite Sasuke’s psych evaluation reporting him as stable, the boy struggles to function normally.
It’s suspicious.
It’s true that children fall through the cracks, especially after the Kyuubi attack when so many children became orphans, but Sasuke shouldn’t have. There is no possible way for the last member of a Founding Clan, the last member of a powerful bloodline, to fall through the cracks the way Sasuke appears to have. Iruka followed the paper trail to the best of his ability and all signs indicate that Sasuke received the proper aid to deal with his trauma, but his behaviour indicates otherwise.
Iruka doesn’t have the clearance necessary to find out who’s either been modifying Sasuke’s psych evaluation or failing to do it correctly. All he could do was report it to the Hokage who had immediately approved Iruka’s recommendation to make a year of therapy a requirement for Sasuke to graduate. Everything had been fine, until Sasuke had entered class one day with a stack of forms that boiled down to an exemption from therapy.
It’s complicated. If Sasuke weren’t the Clan Head then they wouldn’t have any issue forcing him into therapy, but his status does offer him a little protection. None of the other Clan Heads were willing to veto Sasuke’s decision or modify current laws to cancel his exemption because it would set a dangerous precedent.
Iruka will never forget the Hokage’s reaction when Iruka informed him about the documentation Sasuke had provided. His killing intent had leaked out for less than a fraction of a second. That fraction of a second had been one of the most terrifying moments of Iruka’s life.
The Hokage hadn’t been so out of control that his killing intent had properly manifested itself with a target or direction; instead, it had lingered in the air, pressing down on Iruka hard enough he’d contemplated suicide.
He hadn’t been the only one. The Hokage’s killing intent had affected everyone within two kilometres of the Hokage’s Tower.
Sasuke is not okay. It’s very clear that someone wants to prevent him from recovering from his trauma and Iruka suspects that the Hokage knows who it is. It really is just a matter of time until the Hokage deals with them because whatever they’re up to, the Hokage does not approve.
Sasuke grits his teeth and glares at Iruka. “I do not need—”
“Yes, you do.” Iruka interrupts him. “No one expects you to get over what happened to you, but we do expect you to move passed it. We expect you to be able to function despite your tragedy.”
“I do function—”
“Sasuke,” Iruka says, gently and unable to hide the sympathy, no, the pity he feels for the boy in front of him. “You can’t even think critically about that night.”
Sasuke bristles. Iruka isn’t sure if it’s a reaction to his words or his pity. Either way, he gets a visceral reaction. “What’s there to think about? They’re dead. That man killed every single member of my clan.” He doesn’t cry. Sasuke doesn’t shed a single tear despite his outburst. His voice cracks when he speaks of Itachi, whether that’s because of his distress or puberty, is unclear.
In the end, it doesn’t matter why Sasuke’s voice cracks.
What matters is that it’s been four years and Sasuke still can’t say Itachi’s name. If he’d undergone therapy, he would be better off. Not better. You don’t go through what Sasuke did and recover from it. Iruka lost his parents twelve years ago and he’s still not over it. He’s better off, but not better.
Sasuke has never spoken about the massacre with anyone and Iruka’s sure that he avoids thinking about it as much as possible. And it’s understandable, but it’s not healthy. Sasuke is repressing his trauma, but to be a ninja, you must be able to cope.
You don’t need to cope well. Shinobi as a rule, tend to be all kinds of crazy. The more powerful they are, the worst they tend to be. Any coping method is better than repression. Repression is messy and unreliable, liable to surface at the worst possible time.
“And how did he do that?” Iruka doesn’t ask to be cruel, he asks because Sasuke is basing his life ambition off a situation from which he’s never gotten all of the facts. “Because as someone who was on Itachi’s genin team, I can say with absolute certainty he was not good enough to kill every Uchiha in a single night without alerting anyone.”
Sasuke, hands balled into fists, blinks. His month hangs open for a second before it snaps shut. He hesitates, just for one second, but that’s long enough for Iruka to see the ghost of a scared child in his expression: lost and confused and alone. “You were on his team?”
Iruka nods. “I was.” It’s not something people tend to remember when they think of Iruka’s genin team. When people think of Team Ibiki, or Team Red Flag as Anko had dubbed them, they think of the Uchiha Genius or Orochimaru’s potential spy. No one really recalls the last genin that had been on the team as anything other than a placeholder.
Which is a little ridiculous because the Hokage had personally put that team together. Ibiki-sensei had been assigned to make sure Anko hadn’t been a spy or a sleeper agent, to watch Itachi for signs that he wouldn’t break under the pressures of being such young ninja, to help Iruka cope with deaths of his parents because he’d still been a mess at that point.
“Your genin team will become your family,” Iruka declares, ignoring the way Naruto inhales sharply at his words. “Whether you like it or not, by the time you reach chunin, you’re going to know your teammates better than you know yourself. There’s a reason I told Sakura that she won’t be able to look at you without thinking about an annoying little brother she can’t get rid of.” Iruka pauses here, unable to stop the fond smile that slips on his lips. “That’s how I thought about Itachi.”
Sasuke’s eyes widen just a touch and Iruka lets the thought settle in the air. To Sasuke, Itachi has been a loving older brother or a ruthless murderer. There was no in between, no shades of grey, for his polarizing perception of Itachi. No deeper understanding than what could be found on the surface.
A ninja must be able to look beyond appearances and decipher hidden meanings. If Sasuke can’t analyse his own traumatic experiences, then how can Iruka be sure he’ll examine the other dangerous situations he’ll encounter.
“As his ANBU captain, I have to agree.” Kakashi says, casually turning a page of his filth. “Itachi was good, but not good enough to slaughter the entirety of the Uchiha Clan in a single night.”
Sasuke inhales sharply, glancing back at Kakashi. “You were what?”
“Itachi’s captain. I was the one who got him promoted.” Kakashi flipped another page, not even deigning to look up at Sasuke. “And I couldn’t have done that if I hadn’t known exactly what he was capable of.”
Sasuke’s hands are clenched into fists, knuckles white, and Iruka wants to stop and comfort him; instead, he presses on. Sasuke will never begin moving past his trauma until he’s forced to confront it. “It’s impossible for Itachi to have killed the Uchiha Clan singlehandedly.”
“Impossible? How can it be impossible for him to have done it when everyone’s dead?”
“Because it doesn’t make any sense.” There’s a brief silence at those words. Iruka may have been thinking those exact words, but he hadn’t been the one to say them.
Naruto flushes slightly at all the attention everyone gives him.
“It doesn’t make any sense?” Sasuke murmurs, a seething rage clinging to his every word.
Naruto must sense it because he leans away from Sasuke, almost toppling out of his chair. “Not really. I mean, when you think about it there’s no way he could kill that many people without attracting some attention. I mean, Grandpa Hokage is constantly sending ninja out to patrol the village, at least one of them should have noticed a buncha people dying. And then if they didn’t, I think some of the other clans have ways of noticing when something bad’s happening. Like this one time, Kiba and I got separated during a prank, but he managed to find me because he said he could smell the ramen I’d spilt on my shirt a couple o’ days ago and I think if he could do that then any of the grownups in his family could notice blood or something if a lot of people got hurt. And since Iruka said no one caught him, when a lot of people should have caught him, it just doesn’t make any sense.”
Sasuke is pale, staring at Naruto with a muted look of horror, and there’s another beat of silence before Sakura speaks. “Why were all of the Uchiha at the compound?”
Sasuke flinches, coming back to himself, and turns away from Naruto to glare at her. “Why were they at their homes?”
Sakura barely notices the look, brow furrowed, deep in thought. “The Uchiha were a shinobi clan and they ran the Military Police. Some of them should have been out of the village on missions and others should have been patrolling the village.” Sakura begins tapping her knee, a bad habit Kakashi will have to train out of her. “Was there some sort of clan meeting? No. Sasuke was the son of the Clan Head, there’s no way he’d be allowed to miss a meeting that the other children had to attend.”
She’s mostly muttering to herself, but Iruka can see the affect her words are having on Sasuke, the dawning realization that the senseless massacre may not have been as senseless as it seemed. “It’s generally accepted by most chunin and jounin that the Uchiha Massacre did not happen as publicized for two reasons.” Iruka focuses on Sasuke, trying his best to project a sense of calm because the boy looks seconds away from having a well-deserved breakdown. “First, not everything related to the massacre has been sealed. Normally, an incident of this magnitude would be completely sealed, the files only accessible to the Hokage, but for some reason, Lord Hokage hasn’t done that this time around. Autopsy reports and patrol routes from that day are all available to anyone who has clearance for them, which would be chunin and above. The patrol routes are the most alarming; they should be locked up to prevent spies from discovering a breach in our security. But, they’re not. A lot of the information needed to piece together the events of that day have been left available for anyone who cares to investigate the matter.”
Iruka pauses here, wonders if Sasuke is catching what Iruka’s saying. If he’s deciphered the hidden meaning in his words. There’s only one person in this village who should be determined to investigate the Uchiha Massacre and, for whatever reason, the Hokage hasn’t made it overly difficult for them to do so.
“What’s the other reason?” Sasuke prompts, voice trembling slightly. He’s paler than he was a second ago and Iruka wonders if he should stop here, if Sasuke’s about to go into shock, but then he decides to go forward.
“You’re alive.”
Sasuke blinks. “What? What does that have to do with—”
“Itachi loves you.” Iruka states. “You are his favourite person in the world. It was so bad our other teammate used to tease him about having a brother complex.” Anko had been a complete unrepentant menace with that accusation, which only got worse when Itachi refused to deny it, stubbornly insisting that Sasuke was too cute not to adore. To this day, Iruka and Ibiki-sensei still get migraines whenever they think about Sasuke accomplishing anything because it forces them to remember Itachi’s gushing praise and Anko’s gleeful needling. “If the official story is that Itachi snapped, then the only way it would be believable would be if you had died when you ran into him. Instead, you’re the only survivor. And more importantly, you were tortured just enough to have no permanent damage, but you can no longer remember anything that you saw that night, effectively protecting you from anyone who wants the secrets of that night to stay hidden. You can’t tell what you don’t know and attacking you for what you don’t remember is a pointless risk.”
“Are you trying to tell me that—that—that Itachi is innocent! That someone else—that—that—” Sasuke cuts himself off, shaking enough that Iruka is genuinely concerned that he’s gone too far. Said too much too soon.
“No. I’m not saying that.” Because he can’t say that. The Uchiha council members had definitely been executed by Itachi. There’s no changing or hiding that fact. But that was only twenty people. The remaining eighty or so had not been Itachi’s work and the autopsies proved that fact. “What I’m saying is that the Uchiha Massacre is not a clear-cut situation. No one besides Itachi and any accomplices he had that night knows exactly what happened.”
Iruka sighs, wishing there was something more he could do for Sasuke. Sasuke is still standing and Iruka can’t guess what’s going through his mind; he won’t disrespect Sasuke’s trauma by even trying. He picks up Sasuke’s file and taps it against the edge of the desk to draw his student’s attention. “If you insist on fieldwork, I want you to know that there will be two conditions.”
Trembling, Sasuke nods at him, his quivering lips too noticeable for Iruka to consider the action calm and collected. He’s seconds away from falling apart, and honestly, Iruka is impressed he’s kept it together for as long as he has.
“The first condition is that you attend mandatory therapy sessions for a minimum of two years or until your therapist clears you to end the sessions.”
Sasuke’s trembling stops and Iruka watches as rage takes over his carefully blank expression. “I don’t need therapy. The forms I gave you—”
“Provide an exemption for a Clan Head from following an academy instructor’s additional requirements; however, genin under a jounin’s instruction cannot maintain the title of Clan Head. This is because your jounin instructor functions as your primary legal guardian and their authority over you is absolute, often taking precedence over the other adult figures in your life.” Iruka pauses here, taking note of the varying confusion in each of his students’ eyes. “For example, Let’s say Sakura was injured in the field and the hospital staff claimed there were two options to help her. Option A is guaranteed to have a complete recovery if successful but has a very high failure rate; Option B will result in her losing some function in her left hand but is guaranteed to work. If Sakura’s parents decide on Option B, but Kakashi wants Option A, Sakura will undergo Option A regardless of her parents’ protests.
“Jounin sensei have a lot of power over their genin, and so, to protect the integrity of the clans, genin with jounin sensei are not allowed the title of Clan Head. Until you reach chunin or are dropped from Kakashi’s care and enter the Genin Corps, you will not be recognized as the Uchiha Clan Head; therefore, I have spoken to the Hokage and made therapy a mandatory requirement for you to enter the field.” He pulls the form sentencing Sasuke to therapy out of the file. A form that he had filled out this morning with the Hokage to guarantee no one would have the chance to use more bureaucracy to sabotage Sasuke’s mental health. The only thing the it had been missing when he left the Hokage’s Tower was Kakashi’s signature stating he agreed Sasuke needs therapy, which is why Iruka is confused to see Kakashi’s signature on the line.
In fact, the entire portion Iruka had filled out on Kakashi’s behalf has been rewritten in a deliberate pain in the ass chicken scrawl Iruka had been trying to avoid having the administration department read. That’s not even Kakashi’s natural handwriting. Iruka’s seen the man’s mission reports from when he was a child. The man writes neat enough to replace the printing press. Iruka is positive Kakashi only uses his messy handwriting to punish anyone who forces him to do paperwork.
He slides the form across the desk to Sasuke. Sasuke glares at it without making a move to touch it. “And the second condition?”
“Relocation. It’s been determined that living alone on the Uchiha Clan ground is negatively affecting your mental health; therefore, it is required that you relocate and cohabit a location that has been selected for you.”
“And who determined this?” Sasuke’s snarling, eyes flicking around the room, plotting an escape route.
Iruka squashes his sympathy. This is for Sasuke’s own good. And while Iruka would have preferred things never reached this point, they have. They have and the only thing he can do is force his student to accept help. He looks Sasuke in the eyes and refuses to back down or show any form of weakness. “I did.”
Through clenched teeth, Sasuke says, “You can’t do this.”
“Actually, I can. Before his death, the Fourth Hokage introduced legislature that allows jounin sensei and academy teachers the right to forcefully relocate children from their residence if significantly traumatic experiences occurred at the location. The location will be sealed and inaccessible to the public until the child is recognized as an adult, which as you should know, means until they become a chunin or turn eighteen.”
Iruka has no idea why the Fourth Hokage created the bill. He’s not even sure if the man even got to use it because he died days after it was legislated. Still, it’s something he strongly agrees with. Sasuke shouldn’t be living alone on the Uchiha Compound. Not after his entire family was slaughtered there.
“And who am I supposed to be cohabiting with?”
Iruka’s been a ninja long enough that his eyes don’t even twitch in Naruto’s direction. “I was planning to tell you after the meeting. I thought you would prefer not having your teammates aware of your living situation.” He really hopes Sasuke accepts his bullshit because Iruka can only deal with one tantrum at a time.
Sasuke finally turns away from Iruka to glare at both his teammates, before turning back to Iruka and nodding.
“Do you accept these conditions?”
There’s a very long pause. For a moment, Iruka worries that Sasuke will refuse. There’s a change in Sasuke’s stance, his spine straightening and his eyes hardening. “I will do anything to get stronger,” he snaps, “so I’ll accept your terms. But make no mistakes, Umino, I will never forget this.”
“What an adorable little drama queen I have on my team,” Kakashi chirps from between the pages of his novel because he has no interest in helping this meeting run smoothly. Naruto bursts into laughter at the words and Sakura gasps, looking both scandalized and amused, while Sasuke pulls out a kunai and whirls around to face Kakashi.
That’s probably supposed to be a threat. Especially with the disrespect Sasuke tacked on with how he addressed him, but honestly, Iruka hopes Sasuke remembers this. That he remembers that there will always be people in the village willing to help him, even if he refuses to accept that help. “Alright then. Have a seat and we can begin your evaluation.”
Sasuke, begrudgingly, returns his kunai to his pouch and sits down in his seat.
“Sasuke, you are disciplined, assertive, and adaptable. Your greatest assets are your confidence and your focus. You make your goal, create a strategy to get to it, and work very hard to make it a reality. Once you make a decision, it’s only a matter of time until it’s accomplished. You’re also very good at incorporating new information into your plans and working around the limitations placed on you. If the situation calls for it, you’ve also shown a good amount of cunning and stealth.
“Your taijutsu is excellent, your ninjutsu is well above average, and your genjutsu is above average. Your abilities are varied enough that you are able to function close, mid, or long ranged, which makes you an excellent fit for almost any role in combat. You’re also competent enough that you're able to swap between these positions with ease. Both your chakra control and reserves are above average. You have the option to specialize in ninjutsu, taijutsu, or genjutsu. Because you have stated on multiple occasions that your ambition is to assassinate Uchiha Itachi, I highly recommend you refine your chakra control and become a med-nin.” He holds up one hand to stall what he knows will be vehement protests. “Learn how to put the body together in order to know how to tear it apart permanently. Med-nins learn how to save people from a variety of different things, which means they also learn how to kill people in just as many ways.”
Furthermore, after his experiences, Iruka suspects that Sasuke will not cope well with being helpless while his teammates are dying in front of him. Once he bonds with them, Iruka doesn’t think he’ll be able to sit idly while they’re injured. Learning medical ninjutsu will give him a sense of control when his allies are dying around him, and while, eventually Sasuke will have to deal with the harsh reality that you can’t save everyone, for now Iruka thinks it’ll be enough if he saves some people.
“Your greatest weakness is your pride.” Iruka ignores the way Sasuke tries to set him on fire with the heat of his glare. “Your ego is so big it prevents you from working with your comrades as you spend a good portion of your time looking down on them. More concerningly, your pride usually makes you forget that you’re a ninja.”
“I have not forgotten—”
Sakura smacks Sasuke over the head. “Listen to what he has to say and complain afterwards.” She doesn’t look over at her crush, which is probably a good thing because Sasuke looks furious. Naruto begins snickering, but Sakura glares him into silence.
“As I was saying, your pride makes you do outrageous things that makes it clear you’ve forgotten that you are a ninja, not a samurai. In class exercises, you’re liable to refuse to finish the objective without engaging the other students in a fight. You abandon stealth and subtlety in order to participate in combat. As shinobi, you should know that if you have to fight, you’ve already failed. You should never refuse to finish the objective because you want to get into a pointless brawl with the enemy. If you can accomplish the goal unseen, then that’s what you should aim for.” This is a problem with many genin, especially the boys, but Iruka has never seen it manifest so extremely in someone.
Sasuke needs to be the best in a desperate way that worries Iruka because it causes him to do stupid things like camp out in front of the drop off location and fight his classmates during a mock mission. Hopefully, therapy puts a stop to that nonsense.
Iruka skims through the papers in Sasuke’s file to confirm he hasn’t left anything out. He hands one copy to Sasuke and glances quickly at Naruto who looks ready to explode from behaving for so long. “Sasuke, you have the potential to be an extraordinary shinobi, one with few equals; however, in order to become your best, you’re going to have to reign in your pride. Learn to accept help from others and ask for it when you need it. Work with others, swallow your pride, and I guarantee that nothing will stop you.”