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Hakuro of Hikari has died.
Itachi is on the ANBU base when news of the Meikage’s assassination reaches him. He spends most of his time here these days; even after Danzou has been executed and Itachi’s crimes have been pardoned, he is still a persona non grata in the General Forces. Really, he’s rather ostracized in the village at large. Even the civilians know and reject him. But he doesn't blame them. Pardoned or not, he will never leave his title as Clan Killer behind.
It’s only slightly better among ANBU—but it is better. Some dislike him outright and make no secret of it, and most everyone else avoids him if they can. But some of them do understand. Some of them even say he is the pinnacle of a shinobi, one who has killed his emotions and mastered his heart. And some of them—mostly former members of Root—know personally what the force of Danzou’s leverage feels like. These ANBU in particular are quite cordial.
Like any sensible ninja, he immediately prioritizes information, and these former Root shinobi are the first he goes to. Though Team Ro has long since disbanded, Sugaru is still in the same division. As far as Itachi can tell, he's carrying out his duties as he always has.
Itachi has never asked if Sugaru had participated in the attempt on Shisui’s life, of course. In return, Sugaru trains with him sometimes. They even run missions together on occasion. After all, even in an organization like ANBU, loners and weirdos still need teammates. Itachi thinks that they both know that they are the closest the other may ever have to a friend.
It doesn't take overly long to find him. He’s cleaning his kunai in the armory. He glances up, but doesn't offer a greeting. Itachi isn't offended; Sugaru is one of those shinobi who listens to speech and responds in sign, so all they ever usually do is exchange nods. They do so now, and then Itachi immediately cuts to the chase:
“Do you know anything about the death of Hikarigakure’s Meikage?”
Sugaru shakes his head no, and then signs new situation and need gather intel.
“I see.”
Mission, Sugaru says, Hokage assign you, high probability.
“...I suppose. I do have ties to that village, and if my sister has passed I may be permitted to enter.”
New Kage know you?
“It's possible. I don't know where he was in the line of succession, but Shisui was apparently a candidate.” Itachi pauses. “It could also be Sasuke, I suppose, though it’s less likely. He’s still quite young.”
You entry permit?
“Shisui likely would. Sasuke… I don't know about Sasuke. He mostly followed Sagi’s lead.”
You sister big dislike, Sugaru remarks. If brother same, problem.
Big dislike, Itachi thinks wryly. Yes, he supposes that would be one way of putting it.
Sugaru’s prediction comes true, and Itachi soon finds himself on the Path of Lamps once more.
He’s unaccustomed to wearing the jounin uniform, and it feels strange compared to his usual armor. Unfortunately, he has no choice. Appearing in a foreign village while dressed as Black Ops, directly after the death of their leader, would be idiotic. Of course, the pathkeepers still manage to stop him at every other mile marker anyway.
“I’m to relay Lady Hokage’s condolences to our allies in the Hidden Light,” Itachi, after being questioned about what business a Konoha-nin could have in Lamps for the umpteenth time, repeats. He holds out the scroll marked with the official Leaf seal. The Hikari-nin seems to deflate a bit.
“I see,” she says, looking gloomy. She’s wearing jet-black jacket instead of the usual white uniform. In fact, all of the Light-nin he’s encountered so far have been wearing black. It seems it really is true: the Meikage is dead.
Itachi resumes his trek after he’s been waved on his way. As he does, he observes the landscape. Last time he'd taken this road, he’d seen egrets all over it, but now there are hawks instead. Perched on the stone lanterns, circling in the sky, eyeing passersby with intent focus… Compared to their predecessors, who had spent their time wading through paddies and languidly strolling across the road, they're not half as subtle. Itachi is surprised by how saddened it makes him feel. He hadn't realized how much those birds had contributed to the beauty of the landscape. Nor did he imagine how different the Path would feel under such open surveillance.
He sees more travelers the closer he comes to the capital. By the time they make it to the main bridge into the city, the road is swamped with them. Itachi almost feels bad when one of the gate guards has to leave his post to escort the foreign ninja. His colleagues are drowning in the crush of arrivals.
They enter the city. At first nothing seems amiss, but then the lake comes into view. Itachi is at once startled to see how low the water level is. It’s dropped significantly. So significantly, in fact, that the castle moat looks less like a moat and more like a depleted cistern.
The guard departs after pointing Itachi towards a bridge in the outer court. Left alone, Itachi has no choice but to begin crossing. As he does he sees that there’s been a fire in the administrative compound. Clearly it was a bad one; he’s all the way at the other end of the bridge and he can see the destruction. The left side of the gate is a pile of char, one of the buildings has been reduced to a wooden skeleton, and the western wall of the compound has been flattened into rubble. To top it all off, the guard he meets at the entrance has a hideous black eye.
“Straight ahead into the main building,” this sentry directs when Itachi states his business. “Shisui-sama would want to receive the representative of a foreign Kage directly. Please request an audience from the secretary… Though I must apologize if the wait is long. We mean no disrespect.”
Shisui-sama, Itachi thinks as he proceeds. It’s telling. His hunch is all but confirmed when the administrative ninja offers him a seat: “I will inform Lord Second of your arrival as soon as his current appointment ends. Please wait here.”
So told, Itachi sits. Then he looks around. Things are as frantic here as they were at the city gate. The secretary he'd stopped immediately picks up a pile of papers and rushes off with them, racing to complete whatever task Itachi had interrupted. Two more administrative ninja emerge from the east hall and come charging through the reception area, just barely managing not to run. Then another ninja appears with a flicker. Apparently she’s authorized to open the Meikage’s office door; she hardly even knocks before yanking it open.
“Tamaki-sama, we have it now—the report you were waiting for,” the kunoichi says breathlessly.
“That's it? Good, thank you. Give it here,” another woman’s voice answers.
The messenger darts inside. A second later she all but sprints back out. She’s in such haste that she completely forgets to shut the door. Several moments pass, but no one comes forward to close it; then voices begin to drift in from the room beyond.
“What have we got?”
“Let’s see. It appears her summons were being used to monitor the Path and the area beyond the village’s outer perimeter. They were also directly integrated into several Special Forces intelligence missions. The first two issues have been dealt with: Sasuke’s temporarily taken care of the Path with his hawks, and ANBU has taken over the outer perimeter. Unfortunately, however, their numbers mean that they can only cover about a third of what the birds were doing.”
“Not ideal… security’s compromised enough as it is. We might need to consider having Logistics erect lockdown seals. I’m especially concerned about the mountain range on our northern border. Even the most skilled shinobi can't match the speed and maneuverability of a bird in that terrain, and it would be far too easy to take advantage.” A deep sigh. “And with the lake being how it is, we’ve lost our electric fence, too.”
“I'll have Mino summon the Logistics head, then.”
“Sounds good. Now what about that last point? You said they were involved in intelligence missions?”
“Yes. Her birds were one of the safest means of communication we had, so ANBU made extensive use of them. The problem is that some of their assignments are so classified that only Hakuro-sama and the birds themselves knew where they are. We’ve now lost the ability to locate and communicate with those agents.”
A groan. “And there it is. Today’s disaster.”
Itachi rises from his seat, highly concerned. As an outsider he'd been too wary to approach the office on his own, but he can't stand by any longer now that he’s managed to overhear such classified information. If no one else will shut that door, he’s going to do it himself.
Then there’s a clatter.
“Tamaki, what’s—Tamaki?” Shisui’s voice asks sharply. Itachi steps up to the threshold just in time to catch sight of a woman clinging to the edge of a desk with both hands. Scrolls are rolling open at her feet.
“I’m fine,” the woman called Tamaki says weakly. Shisui is around the desk and holding her up by the waist in an instant. Stormclouds have taken over his face.
“No, you're not,” he rebukes in the tone of a man tired of repeating himself. “Tamaki, look at yourself. You need to go home. You shouldn't even be here when you're still on leave—it’s bad enough you've done this much already. Please just go… I can handle this.”
“You can't,” Tamaki immediately bites back, equally incensed and doubly fierce. “Just shouldering the weight of Intel alone was enough to bring Hakuro-sama to her knees. This time we've lost not only her, but both of our Forces Commanders. Do you really think you can do that all yourself? Are you crazy?”
“Tamaki, that's not the point. I—”
“And you're still holding up the ward network atop all of that,” she interrupts, growing increasingly angry. “Shisui, even you know it's impossible. You think you can be the Meikage, the Gatekeep, and both Commanders all at once? You think sheer willpower will enable you to run all of high command alone?”
“I’ll delegate,” Shisui snaps back, and then adds pointedly, “To someone who isn't you.”
“The hell you will. Leave or not, I’m the most senior division head left and you know it. Don't act like—”
Itachi stands awkwardly in the doorway as a vicious marital dispute unfolds before him. It’s not long before voices are raised. But despite the heat of their argument, it’s clear that both of them are running ragged. The bags beneath Shisui’s eyes are dark enough that he looks as if he's been struck on both sides of the face, and the woman is so gaunt and unsteady that it seems she'll collapse any second now. Apparently she almost had, if the way Shisui is still clutching her around the midsection is any indication.
“Excuse me,” Itachi eventually says, not wanting to watch the fight any longer. Both Shisui and Tamaki snap their heads around, clearly startled. The fact that they hadn't noticed him is probably a testament to how tired they are.
“Itachi?” Shisui breathes. That's concerning—the Gatekeep’s wards are meant to stretch across the whole city, but Shisui clearly hadn’t registered Itachi’s approach. Tamaki, validated by evidence, sends him a scathing look. Shisui sucks in an aggravated breath.
“Good morning,” Itachi interjects before they can start up again. “I’ve just arrived from Konoha. Hokage-sama has instructed me to convey her condolences.”
The couple deflates. Tamaki trades clinging to the desk for clinging to her husband’s shirt, and Shisui lowers the finger he’d been pointing. He puts his arm around her again.
“I see,” Shisui says. “We are grateful for her consideration. Thank you for coming all this way… we apologize for our lack of hospitality.”
Itachi responds by coming forward. But instead of handing over his scroll, he puts it on the desk instead. Then he turns to his friend. “I’m sorry for coming at such a difficult time.”
“No, no… we should have anticipated Konoha sending you.” Shisui scrubs his face with his palm. When he lowers it his eyes are glistening. “Oh, hell, Itachi. I’m glad you’re here. It’s so good to see you.”
Tamaki seems to have calmed with the appearance of a guest. “Let’s compromise,” she suggests to Shisui softly. “I’ll go to the back and sleep for a bit. You take a break and talk to Itachi-san. We’ll reconvene after lunch and do one last push, and then we’ll both finish early.”
“Deal,” Shisui agrees at once. Tamaki detaches from his front with a deep sigh. Then she and Itachi bow shallowly to one another. They forgo further greetings; she’s so manifestly exhausted that Itachi doesn’t think anyone could hold it against her.
“So the word’s made it to Konoha, huh?” Shisui asks after—blessedly—the door shuts behind her. “Considering travel time, it didn’t even take two days.”
“Not surprising. Trade between Lamps and Fire Country is quite extensive these days.” Itachi pauses. “I've been sent to confirm the rumor and gather further intelligence."
“Hah. Tsunade is crafty, isn’t she? She knows that you’re the one guest I would never refuse.”
“So it seems. At a time like this you'd be more than justified in turning away visitors. I’m sorry, I have to let you know—I overheard everything while the door was open.”
“Ah, damn.” Shisui swears, but without much energy. “Didn’t even occur to me that an outsider could be there. How much are you going to share?”
“...I’ll report that your northern border has been compromised, but I won’t mention your countermeasures. I have permission to take an extended stay here if appropriate, so I’ll delay my return, too.”
“Fair enough. We’ll have Logistics expedite the project. Hopefully we can get it done before it’s time for you to leave.”
After saying this, both men fall silent. Then, tentatively, Itachi reaches out a hand and puts it on Shisui’s shoulder. His friend immediately slumps, and he seats himself on the desk, heedless of the impropriety.
“This is a shitshow, Itachi,” Shisui tells him. “This was not supposed to happen. I was third in line. This should not be me.”
“I’m sorry.”
“They’ve given me her desk. They replaced her chair because it was too short for me.” Shisui grabs a handful of paperclips from a tray and shows it to him. “Look. My office supplies are shaped like fucking strawberries.”
They are. Strange to think such a dignified and deadly kunoichi had been the type to collect cute stationery. In any case, it's dreadful; Sagi’s room back home had remained untouched for years before anything was done to it, but Shisui’s been forced into her space barely 72 hours later.
“What happened to the other successors?”
“They died in the attack. The Jounin Commander was killed here in the administrative compound—he was on the west side. The ANBU Commander followed the fight to provide backup. His body was about a hundred meters off from where we found hers.”
“I’m sorry,” Itachi says again. There’s nothing else he can do.
Shisui drops the paperclips and begins raking his fingers through his hair. He’s always had tousled hair, but right now it’s even messier than usual. For just a few seconds he looks into the middle distance, absent, and Itachi waits unobtrusively as his friend stares at the air. But eventually Shisui comes back to himself.
“Well, anyway, your timing’s not bad,” he sighs. “The visitation’s going on for the whole day, so the city is crawling with visitors. You shouldn't stand out too much if you take off your vest.”
“...Who’s keeping vigil?”
“Sasuke, of course. And Kabuto requested to accompany the tablet, so you may see him instead if Sasuke is resting.” Shisui pauses. “But I doubt he is. Sasuke probably won't take a break until Tamaki and I join him later tonight.”
“You could use some rest yourself, by the looks of it,” Itachi remarks quietly. Shisui begins rubbing his forehead.
“Yeah, no joke… I think it's been at least thirty hours since I last laid down.”
“Could I… Do you think that Sagi would object if I took a shift? At her vigil?”
Shisui is silent for a long moment. Then he says, “Despite everything, Itachi, I don't think Sagi ever actually hated you. Or at least, she never just hated you. Truth be told, every now and then… I think she really missed you.”
“...What makes you say that?”
“Once in a while I’d see her making this motion.” Shisui mimes opening his hands and dropping something. “Letting go. We didn't talk about you often, but when we did, sometimes she’d do that. Like a reminder.”
“I see.”
“If you were here, Itachi, in Hikari… I think she knew she would fail. She knew she couldn't do it by halves—let go of you, I mean.”
“So she cut me off,” he answers softly. “Like a bad limb. She couldn't save it, so she amputated.”
They're both quiet for a long time. Then Shisui says, “But I think she really tried, Itachi. She tried for a long time.”
“I have memories from when we were younger. She used to be so different. She… smiled at me often.” Itachi looks down at his hand. “We used to hold hands.”
“...Regardless, she’s accomplished her goal in the end. She didn't turn back on her resolve. And since it's done now… I don't think she’d be upset. At the very least I think she'd permit it, if only to relieve Sasuke a bit sooner. So I'd go, Itachi,” Shisui says. “To keep vigil. If you want.”
“...I do.”
The hall is an ocean of black. Shisui was right—no one pays any attention at all to the stranger in their midst. How could they? Shinobi are coming out of the woodwork to pay their respects to the Meikage. And not just them, but civilians, too. As he makes his way forward, pushing through crowds to the altar ahead, he hears them telling countless stories. Nukenin taken in from the Bloody Mist, wondering at how life has changed since coming to Hikari. Merchants whose lives and livelihoods have been protected by the Path of Lamps, reminiscing about the struggles they'd faced before its creation. Everyday folk who’d turned to the four-pointed star for help, sharing about how they were able to hire ninja from their own country with their own means…
He sees a mountain of white chrysanthemums when he emerges on the other side of the throng. They're spilling over in tiers around a mounted portrait of Sagi's face, which is set above the pictures of the late Forces Commanders. The two lines for flower offerings, one on each side, are stretching all the way back through the entrance to the outside. The turnout is tremendous—truly worthy of a Kage’s wake. A beloved Kage’s wake, clearly.
He comes closer. There's a cordoned-off section of chairs directly before the altar, filled also with black-clad bodies. But in that spread of dark fabric, one thing stands out: a white haori, embroidered with white and gray thread. Itachi would recognize the look of a traditional Uchiha jacket anywhere. It’s just like the ones he used to go see with his little brother—the ones that had been stored and displayed in the clan hall.
It's a woman's haori; he can tell because the sleeves are detached. But the one who is wearing it is not a woman. Itachi knows because he's turning around to glance back at the crowd behind him. It’s Sasuke, wearing the jacket of their late sister.
They meet eyes across the distance.
Sasuke spends several seconds staring in Itachi’s direction. Then he turns and murmurs into the ear of the man beside him. The silver-haired stranger inclines his head and crosses the rope barrier. He begins walking straight towards Itachi.
“Sasuke-sama has asked me to bring you to him. Will you come along?”
The glare on the fellow’s glasses makes it hard to see his eyes, but Itachi recognizes Kabuto by description, if not by sight. The man who had asked to accompany Sagi’s tablet… he wonders who he’d been to her.
“I will.”
“Itachi,” Sasuke says as his brother crosses the rope. The greeting is flat and paid with a tone unlike any Itachi has ever heard him use before: a tone absent of fear, of anger, and of honorific. It feels strange, but Itachi can only respond in kind.
“Sasuke.”
“Konoha sent you?”
“I delivered Lady Tsunade’s condolences. And… I thought I'd help with the vigil, since Shisui and Tamaki-san won't be able to come until later.” Itachi pauses. “I asked if it would be okay. Shisui said he didn't think Sagi would mind.”
“Shisui would know, I guess,” Sasuke says after a beat. “She always talked to him about things she never did with me.”
“Did she?”
“Yeah. They were… friends. Equals. But I never stopped being her kid brother.” Sasuke looks away. “And now I’ll never be anything else. She… she'll never talk to me like she did to him.”
After saying this, he walks forward and drops himself into one of the chairs. A moment later Itachi seats himself beside him.
“You seem tired.”
“Everyone is. It’s been chaos for the past three days. The chain of command has completely collapsed.”
“...I heard. Shisui's the only one left.”
“Pretty much,” Sasuke mutters, then hangs his head over the back of his chair. He puts a hand on his face. “We’re still finalizing who’s succeeding who. It's been a mess. We had contingencies for losing the Meikage, and we had contingencies for losing the Commanders… but not contingencies for losing all three of them at once.”
“It must have been a large-scale battle.”
His little brother snorts, acerbic. “What gave it away? Was it the chunk that’s missing from the administrative compound? Or was it the crater that drained the lake and rerouted our river?”
“...Were casualties heavy?”
“Not very. The City Guard were quick during the evacuation. And neesan drew the fight away from the village as soon as the more destructive ninjutsu came into play. She did a lot of damage control on her way out, too.”
“If not for that, perhaps she wouldn't have perished,” Kabuto remarks then. Itachi can't quite place the undertone in his voice. “He exploited us against her. He made her exhaust her resources to protect us.”
Sasuke doesn't answer. He only grips a fist, and his knuckles begin to whiten.
“He… You mean the assassin?” Itachi asks quietly.
“He means the thief,” his brother spits, instantly enraged.
Kabuto shifts when Itachi looks at him inquiringly. “Lady Meikage… when we retrieved her body, her eyes were—they were gone.”
“What? Her Sharingan was stolen?” Itachi doesn't actually stand up in alarm, but it's a near thing.
“We’re not making it known to the public. We’d appreciate it if you didn't spread it around.”
“Of course not. But you're saying that this wasn't an assassination? She was killed for her eyes?”
“It would appear so. We’re still piecing together what happened.”
“If someone wanted a Sharingan, the Meikage should have been the last target. It would make more sense to come to me,” Itachi immediately reasons. “I'm the most isolated of the Uchiha. And if not me, then Sasuke, who’s the youngest and most inexperienced. Even Shisui would have been an easier target—he's far more accessible to the public.”
“All things we've considered. That being the case, we've come to the same conclusion you're about to reach now.”
“A reason to covet her eyes in particular…” Itachi turns towards his sister's portrait. She's not quite smiling, but there's a hint of warmth in her face, and her irises are dark. “There's only one thing her Sharingan can do that others can't.”
“Yes. Somehow this man learned of my lady’s Mangekyou ability,” Kabuto answers quietly. “And he was strong enough to take it for himself.”
“But not strong enough to get away with it,” Sasuke utters as he stares up at Sagi's photo. When Itachi looks at him, he sees a pattern in his brother's eyes that he's never seen before. “I’m going to get them back. That orange-masked bastard… I’m going to kill him.”
The manifestation of his little brother's own Mangekyou is immediately overshadowed by these words. Itachi stills. Then he asks, “What did you just say?”
“Somehow I get the feeling that the Hokage would not approve of you accepting a mission from us,” Shisui remarks. He and the brothers are standing together in the rear courtyard of the compound. Sasuke and Itachi are dressed in unmarked gear.
“No matter. If she protests, I'll simply remain in Hikari. …If you'll have me, of course.”
Shisui flicks his gaze towards Sasuke. “As Meikage, I have no qualms. I know you personally, and I’m more than happy to be your vouch. But you would need the permission of the Uchiha head.”
“As long as you bring me to neesan’s killer, I'll allow it.” Sasuke crosses his arms. “But you won't set foot in the main house until I have his head in my hand.”
“So he says, Shisui.” Itachi shrugs. Shisui sighs and massages his temples.
“That feels a lot like buying your citizenship with blood, but… well, at this point, it's whatever. I wouldn't be upset to have the clan together in one spot again.”
“What's the problem? No one in Hikari would be upset if we sold citizenship for the blood of neesan’s murderer.” Sasuke begins tapping his foot. “At the very least, they wouldn't complain.”
“...We’ll frame it a little differently than that. But I guess you're not wrong.”
After bidding them a safe journey, Shisui returns to the main building. And then, for the first time in more than a decade and a half, Itachi and Sasuke set out on a journey together.
It's painfully silent. They travel for at least six hours before they speak a word to each other. But eventually they stop at a roadside spring to refill their water supply, and Itachi finally breaks the silence. “How are you doing, Sasuke?”
“I'm fine. Only a genin would be tired after a half-day of travel.”
“Right. But other than that, how are you?”
“...I’m fine.”
“Somehow I don't quite believe you,” Itachi remarks dryly. He expects Sasuke to double down, but is surprised when his brother lets out a long sigh.
“All right. I'm not fine, obviously. I feel awful,” Sasuke says, and then scowls when Itachi blinks at him. “What? You asked.”
“I did. I'm just… surprised you told me.”
“What's the point of hiding it? You can tell how shitty I feel just by looking at me.” And then, as if to illustrate the point, he notices his Sharingan is on and deactivates it with grumble. “Did you think I would be okay after my older sister’s just been murdered?”
“No. Not at all. I was worried.”
“You are such an asshole, you know that?” Sasuke tells him bluntly. “If this is you trying to be a nice big brother, please stop. I'm really not into it.”
“...Noted. Nevertheless, it's not unreasonable of me to be concerned about a mission partner's well-being.”
“Fine. Then how are you, Itachi?” the younger Uchiha shoots back. “Do you want to tell me about all the complicated feelings you're having now that your twin sister is dead?”
Itachi stares at his brother. A beat passes. Then, inexplicably, he begins to chuckle.
“...You know, that's not the spot where someone would usually choose to laugh. This is why people call you unhinged.”
“My apologies. I just thought—you're very different compared to the past. You’d lose your head at the slightest provocation, and you'd charge in without thinking. But now… now when someone goads you, you've learned to goad back.”
“And whose fault was that? That I was an unstable, unregulated, behaviorally volatile twelve-year-old, I mean?” Sasuke raises an eyebrow. “Man, you really don't have a sense of shame, do you? It's no wonder neesan couldn't stand you. You're like the walking embodiment of the word ‘condescending.’”
“That's quite harsh.”
“Grow a conscience, Itachi.”
A long moment passes. Their canteens are full, but neither rises. Eventually Itachi speaks again.
“Is that true? That she couldn't stand me?”
Sasuke is incredulous. “Are you seriously asking?”
“I am. Shisui said that she didn't hate me.”
“No, she hated you. She compartmentalized it really well, but she definitely hated you.”
“...Why do you say that?”
“Did you know that neesan talks to herself when she thinks she’s alone?” Sasuke says, slipping into present tense.
“Yes. She did that even when she was still in Konoha. When she was really upset, sometimes she’d do monologues.”
“Yeah, monologuing. That's a good word for it.” Sasuke points. “Anyway, she argued with you all the time when she was by herself. The first time I caught her doing it it actually scared me pretty badly. She was so angry that I thought you were really there.”
“Really…”
“I think she had nightmares about you, too. One time I saw her sleeping on the veranda. She was totally out… and then she suddenly just sat up and said ‘Screw you, Itachi.’ First words out of her mouth after regaining consciousness.”
“...It seems I was often in Sagi’s thoughts.”
“You used to be in mine all the time, too,” Sasuke remarks. He puts his elbow on his knee and leans on it. “You used to be all I could think about.”
“But not anymore?”
“No. Not anymore.”
There's another silence. It goes on so long that Itachi thinks the conversation has ended. But before he can stand, Sasuke says, “You missed out, you know.”
“Pardon?”
“You missed out. You could've had a great sister. You were her twin, so you could have been closer to her than anyone.”
Itachi stares down at his palms. Then, with even more of an air of confession than when he’d told Shisui, he says, “We used to hold hands.”
“Huh. Really? You and neesan?”
“She used my name a lot, but sometimes she'd call me niisan, too.”
“What, like I used to?”
“Yes. Niisan, or Itachi-nii.”
“Crazy,” says Sasuke. “Can't imagine Sagi-nee ever being like that. Definitely can't remember it, either.”
“I think she used to like me. I think… that we were close.”
“You really messed up, then. Neesan was always pretending she was tough, even to herself, but the truth is she’d forgive anything if she liked you enough. If she cut ties with you anyway… you must've done pretty badly, Itachi.”
“I don't think Sagi was as tenderhearted as all that. She was courteous, and she was patient, but she was not that kind.”
“If that's what you think. But I think that if she felt sorry enough, you could convince her to give you the clothes off her back. You might not even have to ask. If she thought you needed it enough, she might just give them to you anyway.”
“That doesn't seem like the appropriate temperament for someone in such a high position of power.”
“Probably not. But she was better at advocating for the village than for herself.”
“That’s not the Sagi I knew,” Itachi remarks doubtfully. “She had no problem putting herself first. Have you forgotten everything that happened in Konoha because of her? Faked or not, suicide is a fundamentally selfish choice.”
“Sagi-nee said the village would have found a way to pressure the Uchiha regardless. They would have just provoked the Police Force instead.”
“That doesn't make it better.”
“No, I guess not. …She probably hated to do it.”
“No one forced her. If she hated it, she could have looked for a different path.”
“I think she already did. If there really was still something left to be done, she probably wasn't capable of pursuing it.” Sasuke casts a side eye at his brother. “It’s not like she hated us, Itachi. She didn't want to hurt us. If she did, why would she spend two entire centuries trying to save us?”
A beat passes. Itachi looks back at that fateful cliffside with his mind’s eye. All he can see on his sister's face is cold determination.
“She was still very decisive for all that.”
Sasuke just shrugs. “Neesan was a master at doing things she didn't want to do.”
The fight is more anticlimactic than either of them had anticipated. But despite that, it does make sense. For someone like Tobi—or Madara, he supposes—switching to Sagi's eyes would be the worst sort of handicap. As far Itachi could tell, Madara had been heavily inclined to close-range weapons, high-powered strikes dependent on physical strength, and hand-to-hand combat. Overall, a style of combat very appropriate for a high-contact fighter with powers of teleportation and intangibility.
Sagi, on the other hand, had been completely contrary. Polearms to create and maintain distance, agility to stay out of range, and heavy use of wide-range ninjutsu… Having almost no combat-worthy Sharingan techniques at all—just the basic advantages of the doujutsu—Itachi doesn't think it's at all strange that his sister had relied on broad mastery of nature transformation to compensate. But for her, that had also been fitting. Just as Madara had been a shinobi with physical strength and dexterity, Sagi had been a kunoichi with large hereditary chakra reserves and extremely efficient control. In other words, the classic Uchiha archetype: a quick-moving, long-lasting, surpassingly destructive ninjutsu machine.
At any rate, against the brothers—both all-arounder types who fall in between the two extremes—the outcome is inevitable. It’s not an easy fight, nor is it a short one. There is liberal use of Susanoo, the only combat-relevant Mangekyou technique Sagi’s eyes are capable of producing. But Madara encounters the same problem anyone encounters when trying to use the shroud to defend against Amaterasu: enormous chakra drain. Perhaps if Itachi had been the only source of the fire, something could have been done. But with Sasuke and his own brand-new Mangekyou in the mix, well…
Itachi watches as his brother extinguishes the black flame before the decapitated head can roll into it. Sasuke squats and picks it up by the hair. He looks at; then he drops it, turns away, and immediately begins retching.
“Sasuke?”
“That’s awful,” his little brother, once he’s regained his composure, pants. He wipes his mouth, trembling. “That’s—that’s the worst thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”
Itachi doubts this is the first severed head his brother has seen, considering the clean efficiency with which he’d lopped it off himself. He comes forward to look at what’s upset him so—and also to see Madara’s face unmasked, which he has always wondered about—with an air of curiosity. Then he goes still. He understands at once why Sasuke’s reaction had been so visceral.
The face would have been unsightly enough on its own, grotesque with scars and ugly with rage. Lifeless stares, too, never become any more pleasant no matter how many of them he sees. But those ringed wheels—that pattern so inseparable from the concept of Sister—set and unseeing in that stranger’s snarling face…
Itachi takes off his cloak and throws it over the head. Sasuke’s shoulders slump in relief as soon as it disappears from his sight. Heedless of everything he’d said before they'd set out, he lets Itachi hold it the whole way home.
When they get back to the village, unfortunately, they have to look at it again. This time Shisui, Tamaki, and Kabuto join them; Tamaki is the only one who doesn’t flinch at the sight. An ashy silence falls over the room.
Then Sasuke speaks. He isn't looking away anymore. His gaze is fixed on his sister’s eyes.
“This can’t be it.” His fingers curl into fists. “It can’t end like this. It won't.”
The rest of them understand his meaning at once. Kabuto’s expression becomes clouded, and Shisui and Itachi turn to their youngest in sync.
“I’m going back for her,” Sasuke says.
“Wait just a moment, Sasuke,” interjects Shisui. “You can’t decide that on your own.”
“The hell I can’t. I’m the Uchiha head. You can’t tell me what to do.”
“I’m the clan’s eldest, and I’m your heir until you have children. More than that, I’m the Meikage now. I can tell you to do a lot of things.”
“Those are my sister’s eyes!”
“Those are the eyes of Lady First,” Shisui corrects.
Sasuke responds with a black stare. “The things of your clan are the things of your clan,” he says lowly, “and this is Hikari, where no one chooses for you. Do you think you can use your authority to overrule me in the matters of my own family?”
“Are you going to make me try?”
“If you are the head, you ought to heed the things your clanspeople tell you,” Tamaki remarks then. “Why don’t you ask for our opinions?”
Sasuke turns towards her and opens his mouth, expression furious. Itachi intervenes. “Pause right now, little brother, and evaluate whether you’re about to say something you’ll regret later.”
“Butt out, Itachi. I’m not listening to you.”
“That’s fine. But Shisui’s right—even if you can afford to ignore me, you cannot afford to ignore him. Do you intend to rely on the laws of the clan to get what you want? If so, consider how the law shapes your current position. If Shisui is next in line for the headship, he has legitimacy. His branch of the family also outnumbers ours four to two. He has plenty of leeway to oust you if he deems it necessary.”
“The other members of his branch are babies!”
“But they won't be forever. And even then it does not matter, because I would stand by him. If you force the matter, Sasuke, you will be overruled.”
The air is deadly silent. For a moment Itachi thinks his younger brother will blow up anyway. But then Sasuke’s face becomes calculating, and he turns back to Shisui.
“I want to talk to you outside,” he informs, clearly intent on negotiating.
“Then let's talk,” Shisui agrees, and then addresses the rest of them. “Wait here—we'll be right back.”
“I will also step out for a moment. I have something I must report to Lord Second,” Kabuto informs as the pair makes for the door. He excuses himself; then Tamaki and Itachi are left behind in the morgue together, standing before a severed head. They look at one another.
“...Tamaki-san, while we have the time, may I ask you a question?”
Tamaki regards him with interest. Though at first glance she may seem to possess the native Uchiha coloring, Itachi observes that her eyes are a clear, dark blue.
“Yes? What is it?”
“I wonder if you could tell me something about my sister.”
“About Hakuro-sama?” She tilts her head. “Would it not be better to ask Sasuke? Or Shisui?”
“Well, I have, actually.”
“Oh? Then why would you ask me as well?” It’s hard to tell whether she disapproves or if she's just wondering. Itachi explains himself anyway.
“Because they're both biased sources. Shisui is inclined to speak in my favor. Sasuke is the opposite. I wanted to seek a third opinion.”
“What about?”
“...About whether or not Sagi hated me.”
“I see. What did they tell you?”
“Shisui claims she did not. Sasuke is quite convinced that she did.”
Tamaki tilts her head again. “I don't think either of them are lying to you.”
“How do you mean?”
“I mean that you ought to believe them. If Sasuke says she hated you, then she did. He was her little brother, and she loved him in a way she loved no one else in Hikari. He knew her as others never could.”
“But then, Shisui…?”
“Shisui's not a liar. He likes you, but he wouldn't make something up to spare your feelings. He would just deflect you instead.”
“...I don't understand. They can't both be telling the truth.”
“Why not?”
“Because either she hated me or she didn't. It can't be both ways.”
Tamaki looks at him, unspeaking, for several moments. Then she says, “Maybe you're asking the wrong question.”
“What do you mean?”
“Maybe it isn't a matter of whether or not she hated you. Maybe it’s a matter of whether or not she hated you and loved you anyway.”
Itachi is so astounded by this answer that he doesn't know how to respond. He stares at her dumbfounded.
“You've never experienced such a love before?” Tamaki regards him curiously. “A love that you cut away but don't discard? A love you can't stand but can’t ever change?”
“I…”
When he fails to reply, she looks at him with an expression that isn't quite pity. “I had wondered if she was exaggerating, but it really is true what she said about you.”
“What she said—did she say something about me?”
“Yes. She said that you were the most wretched of all the Uchiha,” Tamaki replies. “I believe her now. I knew a lot of people like you back when I was still in Chigiri.”
Itachi just stares at her again. Tamaki lifts an eyebrow.
“Do you want to know what that means?”
“...Yes. Please tell me.”
“It means that you're the kind of person who only ever believes in himself.”
When the group in the hall returns, they announce that they'll put it to a clan vote. Sasuke looks angry, but not defiant—and not at all surprised when the motion to give him Sagi's eyes is shot down three to one. He does, however, regard Kabuto with a very piercing stare. Kabuto just bows his head at him.
“Then I’ll request to be given possession of them,” Itachi says upon the vote’s conclusion. “My twin sister's Mangekyou Sharingan.”
“I have no objection,” Shisui submits. Tamaki echoes him. Then they look to Sasuke. Sasuke, in turn, regards his brother fiercely.
“It can't end like this,” he says again, one last time.
“It won't,” Itachi promises. Then he leaves with Hikari’s top medic, and that’s the last he sees of his family for a very, very long time.
“Were you an aide of my sister's, Kabuto-san?”
Kabuto faces away as he replies. “I was her soldier. She employed me in many capacities.”
“I heard you were the one who rescued Shisui when Danzou tried to kill him.”
“Yes, on my lady's orders.”
Itachi looks at Kabuto from the back, watching him gather supplies and arrange tools. His steady movements still when his fingers brush past the container holding Sagi's Mangekyou.
“...Did you serve her for a long time?”
Kabuto begins moving again. “I did. I was one of the first Hikari-nin. I joined the village alongside the Heads whom she rescued from Orochimaru’s manipulation.”
“I see.”
Kabuto turns around then, holding a tray. “She was…” he begins, and then falls silent. Itachi waits for him to go on.
“She was younger than me, but she was more resolved than any kunoichi I’d ever seen,” he eventually says. “An unrelenting force. No matter how many times he came back, she kept going. She didn't stop until he did. And then…”
“...And then?”
“And then she set everyone free.” Kabuto turns away once more, this time to set his tray beside the operating table. “The village where you can become yourself—the village where you can choose your own destiny… She said she was going to make Orochimaru’s false promise real. Anyone who wanted to stay and help could stay, and anyone who wanted to go and make his own way could go. But no matter what, everyone would be his own man.”
“You were one of the ones who stayed, then.”
“Yes. I stayed, and she did as she promised. She made a village of light.” Kabuto’s head lowers. Several moments pass before he speaks again. “It wasn't that everything was enjoyable and easy. Nor was she some sort of unearthly saint. She was a shinobi just like the rest of us. But even so…” he lets out a long exhale. “She was the Meikage. Even if she was a shadow, she was still bright.”
Silence falls over the room. All the preparations are complete, but he doesn't move. Itachi doesn't, either. He looks at the medic before him and wonders. It’s clear that his sister had left him with instructions—instructions, he surmises, to ensure their little brother never uses her eyes to climb onto the treadwheel of time. It’s not a task she would have entrusted to just anyone. So that’s who the man accompanying Sagi’s tablet must have been to her: a reliable subordinate.
But as for what she had been to him…
“I wonder if I could ask you a favor, Itachi-san.”
“...What is it?”
“I will never meet Lady Sagi again, but you will. Would you perhaps…”
Silence again. Itachi watches Kabuto's shoulders lift. Then they fall.
“...No, never mind. Please disregard it.”
Itachi stares. And then all at once Tamaki’s voice begins to ring in his ears. The look on this man’s face—the emotion in his eyes—
“You've never experienced it?”
—is something terrible. Terrible and achingly unrequited. Something, Itachi realizes, that he’s begun to feel himself. That thing that one cuts off but never throws away—that thing that one cannot stand and cannot change—
That feeling of unbearable, unalterable love.