Archive of Our Own ^beta

For a moment, Sasuke blinded himself.

The moonlight seemed off, he realized after staring at it too long. It looked reddish. It wasn’t the sun, how strange, but he had to blink a few times before continuing his way home. Mommy promised to bake an orange pie, and Sasuke tripped on his slippers, praying no one, God forbid, would touch his slice. It’s not every day that mom makes red fruit syrup.

He picked the fruits himself. At the market, mommy asked him to find blueberries. She told him to choose the most colorful ones, the prettiest blue, but they couldn’t have ugly holes on the sides (that means they’re spoiled) or mold. They had to be just as she asked.

After squinting so much, Sasuke finally spotted what might be the perfect box. He stretched out his little arm and examined the package with both hands, turning it this way and that. It looked good. The box had tiny holes to ventilate the fruits (do blueberries get hot?), and there were no bugs or mold inside. But the best part was the color. That was the prettiest blue in the market.

For a final check, Sasuke looked at the expiration date. It would expire in two days. He grinned.

He would take this one!

Mommy appeared shortly, bringing some blackberries in one hand. Sasuke blinked and stared at her package. Mommy always knew how to pick fruit, no matter how difficult it was. It was as if she had a bionic eye, more advanced than the Sharingan, to find the best fruit at the bottom of a dull or sometimes spoiled pile. Comparing her blackberries to Sasuke’s blueberries… Yeah, maybe hers are nicer, after all. He kind of expected that. But the blueberries aren’t that bad, right?

“Of course not.” With a gentle smile, Mikoto crouched down to Sasuke’s height, then touched his chin to assess the blueberries. She hummed happily and stroked her baby’s hair. “What beautiful blueberries, Sasuke! Thank you. You chose very well. Did you know I’m so proud to be your mother?”

Sasuke nodded, acting like he was the most important person in the world.

“I worked really hard.”

“I saw.” She extended her free hand, waiting for her baby to hand over the blueberries so she could put them in the shopping basket.

Sasuke placed the package with all the care in the world, making sure not to crush the sides. Mommy almost laughed but stopped when checking the expiration date. Her forehead furrowed.

“Sasuke?”

“Yes?” the innocent voice asked.

“Sweetheart, these blueberries expire the day after tomorrow.” She raised the package in the air, as if it were the last time Sasuke would ever see it, preparing for a proper farewell. “They’ll spoil too quickly. Better look for a better expiration date.”

Contrary to what mommy expected, Sasuke didn’t pout or shout sulkily. He didn’t even drop his shoulders dramatically. He just crossed his arms and gave the most mischievous grin in the world.

“I know, Mom. I read it,” the little troublemaker replied, a letter expert who learned to read less than three years ago. Mikoto raised an eyebrow, urging him to finish his thought.

“So we just have to eat these blueberries in two days. Simple. What’s the problem?”

Mommy smiled, a smile that reminded Sasuke of Itachi’s. He paid a little more attention when she crouched down again.

“Oh, is that so? And what do you want to eat with them, you rascal?”

“Pie!” He didn’t even blink. He just jumped in place. “That one with the crunchy orange crust! And, and, with that syrup, mom, the red fruit one!” Those dark eyes sparkled dazzlingly, in a typical childhood happiness that Mikoto would never tire of seeing.

“What a great idea, son.” Mommy’s voice melted with love. However, she adjusted her feet and tried to show more authority. “But if you want that pie so quickly, you’re going to help me make it, right? I just realized I need a kitchen assistant.”

Sasuke let out a hearty laugh, and she was convinced that was a “yes.” She placed the blueberries in the basket.

Her wonderful son spent the rest of the walk chatting about pies. Orange crusts. Red fruit syrups. Sasuke even considered eating outside, even if it meant dragging Itachi and Fugaku away from work. After all, he had blueberries and wasn’t afraid to use them.

Mikoto relaxed her shoulders. What an incredible son she had.

In the last two days since the market, Sasuke had slept and woken up thinking about the pie he would make with Mommy, as usual. When he climbed onto the small wooden stool to reach the kitchen counter (Sasuke will be tall by the end of the year, mark the words of a great ninja), he trembled so much that he could barely hold the milk jug without shaking. Fortunately, it wasn’t so full that it overflowed.

Mikoto tilted her chin to the side, where her youngest was, and laughed at the size of his smile. It was impossibly big. She was sure his cheeks would hurt for at least the next two days.

With great care, mommy passed on the recipe for the crust. Sasuke listened like a good sous-chef and (almost) didn’t make a mess while mixing. Mommy evaluated his work now and then, casting proud glances over her shoulder. She got even more excited.

Only Mommy touches the oven, he heard with an unusual charm as he watched her put on gloves with several Uchiha fan patterns and slide the orange dough into the far reaches of the oven. She pressed a few buttons (Sasuke frowned at the sound of the panel, it sounded like a song the idiot Naruto sang at the gym), and then came the desperate realization that, hell, he couldn’t do anything but wait! The dough needed to bake, mom said.

What could he do now?

Well, Sasuke had some time before going to the gym and, as mommy also said , the pie would be ready when he got back. Along with the red fruit syrup he loved so much, of course. Let it be a secret between you and him, but Sasuke was sad to miss the chance to turn his beautiful blueberries into a delicious syrup. According to modern cooking, it needed to be made fresh, or it would get clumpy after a few hours. Sasuke huffed and, unfortunately, fell into the tedious trap of waiting.

He checked his collection of action figures and shurikens in his room before getting ready for a bath. He could literally do anything before going to the gym, but taking an early bath wouldn’t hurt anyone. On the contrary, Sasuke needed to wipe the flour stains off his cheeks. Clean, he went to the balcony and fell onto the grass. The somewhat pointed tips tickled his calves.

He stretched his little arms as far as he could, wiggling his hands, and stared at the sky. It wasn’t as blue as his blueberries. It was gray, as if there was mold or some critter had come in to form that pile of clouds. Sighing, Sasuke curled up in the grass. It could rain at any moment, and he had just taken a bath. Damn it!

With his feet buried in the damp earth, he was sure he didn’t need another bath. Or maybe he just needed to hurry so he wouldn’t show up at the gym drenched? That way he could avoid another round of water, right?

Possibilities ran through his mind with his hands behind him, just like Itachi used to do when they played hide-and-seek. He assessed them, too, as if he were picking blueberries, but a presence immediately disconnected him from his list.

The grass rustled as Itachi approached, politely dressed in his ANBU uniform. Sasuke didn’t even remember that his back had once been on the ground before he jumped up (ignore the dizziness, that’s for idiots), and lunged at him in a terribly tight hug.

“Itachi!” His cheeks pressed against the cold armor of the uniform, perfectly sealed by the surprise embrace. Pulling away just enough to see his face, Sasuke flashed a grin full of missing teeth. “You finally made it. Mom and I are making pie!”

“Pie?” Itachi replied hoarsely, but clearly softly. His calm, low words, though sweet, didn’t reflect the mess that was his face.

Sasuke knows he’s the most handsome in the family and all that, but even his brother was more handsome than this. Today, his dark circles were purple and more protruding than usual. Even without the Sharingan, his eyes were red, with horrible streaks in the sclera. There was a crease between his eyebrows, and his mouth was terribly dry, as if he hadn’t had water in days.

“Yes, pie.” The little one furrowed his brow. “What happened to you? You look like a wreck.”

Itachi blinked and, weakly, tried to improve his exhausted features with a smile that lacked teeth.

“The last mission was a bit tiring. I need to rest for a bit before going back to work.”

“Go back?” A beautiful, childish indignation answered him. “What do you mean, go back? You look horrible! You can’t work like this!”

Itachi exhaled through his nose, and his mouth stretched only a few millimeters. Then he spat out the next words, with a bitter tone barely concealed. One his little brother had never heard.

“This is the life of a shinobi, Sasuke. The life I chose. We must protect the village at all costs.”

Sasuke blinked, suddenly thrown into a shadowed bed of flowers.

“But… but you need more than a nap, nii-san,” he responded slowly, observing how the lines of Itachi's face hardened in that moment. “Shinobis need to be rested to work, right? Oh, but of course they do. Honestly! What is the Hokage thinking?”

Imediatamente, Itachi softened, but he didn’t let go of the furrow in his brow.

“You’re right, Sasuke, how smart.” He raised his hand to gently ruffle his younger brother’s hair. “But a shinobi’s mission will always be their priority. In these special cases, I have energy pills, so I’ll be fine.”

Sasuke wasn’t entirely convinced. Itachi could tell by the pout on his face.

“You’ll be fine… Yeah,” Sasuke scoffed, turning his face away.

Seizing the opportunity, Itachi released the embrace, placed one hand on his knee, and stretched two familiar fingers to Sasuke’s forehead. There was the friendly electric jolt and three words veiled. The little brother stared into his tired eyes.

Itachi smiled.

“I promise you, Sasuke. Everything will be fine,” he said firmly, a few seconds before returning his hand to his side and adjusting his posture. Sasuke followed the movement with admiration. Maybe one day he’ll be just like him. That’s pretty cool. Itachi is one of the cool ones.

“At any cost?” Sasuke tried out the new expression.

For a moment, a crack appeared on his older brother’s face. Then, as quickly as it came, it was gone.

“At any cost,” Itachi reaffirmed, sounding a little funny, Sasuke thought. It was as if he had choked on his lunch and needed a glass of water. Geez. He really did need to rest.

As Itachi went inside, mom shouted from the kitchen that it was time to go to the gym.

Sasuke ran before the rain hit.

During the walk, he looked up at the gray sky. He was expecting it to open its mouth full of clouds and shout, “Hurry up! I’m turning on your shower.” But it didn’t shout. It just laughed at all the fools down below. The surprise would come only when the sky felt like it, that bastard.

Today, unbelievably, no police officer reprimanded him. Sasuke, generally, was a big fan of speeding. This concerned Fugaku about a potential criminal record in the future, since most of the time the kid tripped over old ladies, knocked over vendor stalls, and caused chaos every three blocks. Maybe Naruto was worse (he was), but at least Sasuke didn’t have an ANBU team chasing him every day (except for Itachi). Just the shouting staff at his dad’s shop. So, it was all good.

Despite Sasuke's usual concern for helping the old ladies he knocked over, returning the fruit, and apologizing to the Uchiha police force, today he didn’t bump into anything or anyone. From the long list of things he could be worrying about, only the rain could be considered a real threat. But Sasuke isn’t made of sugar, remember, so he just kept walking toward the gym, eyes fixed on the gray sky that, surely, was mocking him.

The smell was different. Normally, Konoha had the pleasant scent of fresh oranges, or wet grass if it rained. Now, it was a mix of dirt and charcoal. Sasuke even scratched the tip of his now-squished nose, since sniffing it had made his nostrils burn. It was like sniffing freshly sprayed alcohol. Everything stung, and all you wanted was to skip ten seconds into the future, where the smell was nothing but an annoying memory, one that doesn’t hurt anymore.

Were there jutsus to mask the smell? Probably. Maybe Itachi knew a few, right? With all that ANBU stuff. It had to be part of the disguise skillset. But if he couldn’t bargain with him for a lesson, maybe Sasuke should just fall into a puddle of mud like a pig and claim it was a disguise. It would be a mission well done. It might sound gross, but shinobi always make the mission their priority, after all. So, at any cost. See? Sasuke’s already getting the hang of it! Soon enough, he’d be the head of the clan and...

"Of course I'm going to become Hokage! Believe it!"

And Naruto already started making his day worse. As usual.

Sasuke rolled his eyes, the gesture pulling a chorus of lovestruck girls, like a puppet’s string. The same eye started twitching, practically invisible, but perfectly present when he sat by the usual window and waited for the class to begin.

At times like these, a strange spark poked at his heart. Boys were talking here, others there, and they all seemed part of a huge spiderweb woven by the monsters of socialization. Some laughed terribly loud and told jokes, but Sasuke stayed by the window. Hands by his sides. Looking ahead. Not speaking to anyone.

No one approached anyway. Sasuke remembered borrowing a pencil the other day, but that was it. The boy looked at him with a suspicious eyebrow and stared at the poor pencil as if he would never see it again, but Sasuke returned it as soon as its use became unnecessary. The boy blinked, unbelieving, and answered with the weakest “you’re welcome” you’ve ever heard in your life. Sasuke hated every moment of it. So, since that day, he started bringing a stock of pencils in his pencil case. One thing was certain, he would never ask for anything from this room again.

In the middle of the shinobi history period, Sasuke questioned himself and didn’t know why people avoided him so much. Fear of the police? His parents told him not to get involved with the Uchiha clan? Was his haircut ugly?

Nah.

So he shook his head and pushed those thoughts away. Itachi and mom said there was nothing wrong with him. Sasuke even asked his dad what he thought of his haircut and heard a 'normal,' so, damn it, the problem definitely shouldn’t be that. But maybe those people are the problem, so it’s fine not to talk to them. What would he gain from it, after all? Another pencil? Ridiculous.

Still, the spark of concern wouldn’t leave him. It couldn’t fly and land on a branch, damn it. Frowning, he glanced at his classmates out of the corner of his eye and felt terribly incapable. Despite his great shinobi skills, Sasuke was just another quiet weirdo who didn’t talk to anyone. The one who was always the last to be chosen by the guys as a partner for activities (sometimes he seriously competed with Naruto, it was a complicated thing).

When he couldn’t get a partner, since Naruto had bursts of independence and did everything on his own — Sasuke wanted to do that too, but Iruka already warned that Naruto was a special case —, the only person who seemed not to care about Sasuke’s weirdness and judged him for being too normal was Hinata.

He genuinely didn’t know how she could seem so sweet at first glance, because Sasuke soon discovered that Hinata turned into a heartless monster when it came to cutting out images for her school poster. She used the Byakugan to not miss a single millimeter with the scissors, and just between us, Sasuke would push his chair away in the opposite direction every time she stared at him with those huge eyes full of veins. On one hand, Sasuke thought it was awesome and couldn’t wait to have the Sharingan to show off too, but on the other… Stay away from her with scissors and glue in hand. It’ll be useful in the future.

But, despite everything, Sasuke had a strange feeling of identification. She was also quiet, just like him, but she always spent her breaks with Ino and Sakura. Sasuke stayed alone. Moreover, fortunately, she wasn’t part of the group of girls who would throw themselves at him with a sweet voice and the serious problem of maintaining eye contact. On the contrary, she would keep it, and it was scary. In fact, Hinata furrowed her brow every time Sasuke threw an acidic comment. It was a reminder that, if he kept it up, she would use violence in the name of peace. When he joked about the fact that she never looked at Naruto like that, Hinata cut two more centimeters of paper and, as if she knew what would follow, Sasuke ended up praying for the first time in his life.

But Hinata had her life outside of Iruka’s assignments. She had friends. Sasuke only had his stockpile of pencils.

“Didn’t you hear me, Teme?” he whispered terribly loud. Idiot. “Do you have a pencil?”

Sasuke blinked, then wrinkled his nose as if he were asking Hagoromo, please, to skip twenty seconds into the future, where he wouldn’t have to deal with so much idiocy. Naruto was doing a terrible job of covering his mouth with his hand and leaning toward him because, look, today Naruto sat next to him. Unusual.

Well, Sasuke wasn’t going to use all his pencils today, so he gave one to the idiot. He handed it over quickly enough to try not to miss what Iruka-sensei was saying about the best missions for a genin. Naruto groaned when the pencil hit his face without any delicacy. Sasuke could feel his hateful stare, but, at some point, it faded.

“Thanks,” Naruto said, but Sasuke ignored him, something cold reaching his chest. Suddenly, Iruka’s words walked on a tightrope, and the smell of charcoal intensified unbearably, making him bury his face in the worn surface of the desk for a few seconds before returning his attention to the teacher.

The chalkboard creaked in pain as Iruka scratched it with the chalk and rounded it off with his handwriting. He wrote the title of an ancient story that didn’t even happen in Konoha. From the other end of the room, some talkative boys huffed in discontent because, hell, wasn’t this just an urban legend? Why is the teacher bringing this up in a shinobi training class? If Sasuke could breathe normally, he would roll his eyes with an “idiots” on the tip of his tongue. After all the poster work with Hinata, is it now that these fools are going to question the academy's questionable teaching method?

For some reason, Sasuke didn’t notice that, under the desk and unintentionally, he bumped his foot into Naruto’s. When Naruto lifted his chin to complain, he found Sasuke’s face a little red. Was he holding his breath? “What’s wrong with you?” Naruto, incredibly, managed to whisper, this time without drawing the attention of a third of the classroom.

With an uncertain but determined touch, he dared to tap the boy's shoulder. Exactly like the reanimation jutsus used in the hospital, Sasuke jumped with a startled jolt, shaking the pencils on the desk, which little by little rolled to the floor. The thin noise of their fall along with Naruto’s furrowed brow was enough fuel for Sasuke to blink quickly. With a flash of realization, the smell of charcoal disappeared.

He waved at Naruto, confirming his well-being without using words and turned back to pay attention to the teacher. Even so, Sasuke still felt his worried gaze out of the corner of his eye. Watching him. Suddenly, listening to Iruka became an oddly uncomfortable task.

But there it was.

The legend of the bizarre guy who killed his whole family and then claimed to be possessed by an unknown chakra.

Iruka explained that the family’s house, consisting of a father, mother, and three children, remained sealed until the local authorities did their forensic check. However, for some funny reason, no one ever left alive. If they did, they died days later from a mysterious chronic disease that, so far, had never given any clues of its existence.

Around the residence, screams could be heard. They were from the middle child’s jutsu signatures. The one who killed everyone and then disappeared. Another team was sent to the location, determined to capture the guy, but it resulted in nothing but the sudden death of that battalion. The authorities started to wet their pants, so they gathered their people and rebuilt in another corner. Leaving the house sealed far away, along with the ghosts that the shinobi world feared on campfire nights.

“Though, nothing confirmed, of course,” Iruka assured, walking back and forth. “Most people say it’s just a tall tale, and that’s why we’ll start new content this week: the art of mastering the lie.” He stopped in the middle of the chalkboard, hiding his hands behind his back in a soldier’s pose. “In the shinobi world, you’ll deal with liars whose greatest pleasure is deceiving you, idiots, then laughing while you die. The ones who do this, at least the good ones, are the ones you’ll trust the most. That’s how it’s easier to make you fall for the lie. Also, you’ll find them at any point of your mission, disguised or not, even in your own village. Right in the middle of your allies.”

Silencing the shocked murmuring of his students, who suddenly began to stare at each other intensely, Iruka darkened his expression.

“I’m not saying this to scare you, but to prepare you for the world. That’s why the training is necessary. You need to learn to deal with these lies and come out on top against these scoundrels.” Turning around, he grabbed the damn chalk and began scratching the chalkboard again.

“Pay attention if you want to stay alive.”

Now Sasuke truly rolled his eyes. Iruka says this every class. Change the record, he wanted to shout.

The day passed more quickly after that. Sasuke had already picked up his pencils from the floor and started scribbling what Iruka had asked for on the scroll. There were a few topics he would definitely ask Itachi about, if not his parents, but other than that, Sasuke understood. Dealing with idiotic liars requires a cool head. He’s got it, for sure.

Naruto handed him the pencil at the end of the class, but with his mouth twisted, Sasuke waved his hands, forcing him to keep it. You see, it’s been a while since Sasuke noticed how everything related to Naruto was just shabby . His torn clothes, the audible sound of that endless stomach, growling at the most inconvenient times, or the uncomfortable way he carried his materials — a tiny pencil that his hand barely held and some scattered sheets of paper for notes — in an old supermarket bag instead of a proper bag. Naruto exuded difference, to the detriment of the others. Not just because of his annoying behavior.

Thinking about it, he didn’t have parents, right? It must suck to live like that. Without anyone to make pie for him. So, what kind of life did Naruto lead? He seemed to be doing just fine, being annoying with everything and everyone, not crying, but Sasuke suspected things weren’t as easy as he thought. Sasuke had plenty of pencils, and Naruto seemed to have none. Well, not like it really mattered.

He just had to ignore the stunned face of that fool, who kept spinning the pencil in his hand, looking for some kind of trap seal. In the end, he only found Uchiha prints.

Sasuke didn’t stay long enough to explain himself, turning his back on the screams of that idiot. He took it as a “thank you.”

Before long, Sasuke found himself in the hated flood of numerous students leaving the academy all at once, a situation he tried to avoid at all costs by waiting in the bathroom for at least ten minutes until the tide calmed down. But, well, an inalienable good was at stake. Specifically, in the oven at home, where the pie Sasuke swore to eat until the last crumb was baking. So, maybe this sacrifice was worth it. He just wished he’d never be swept away by the current in the hallway again.

Far from the swarm, Sasuke sighed in relief and relaxed his shoulders. Looking up, the sky embraced itself in a mix of red and gray. It would be beautiful if the smell of charcoal wasn’t still there.

Even so, he took his way back, as always. The moon was so plump that if Choji saw it, he’d think it was a flying cheese. But if Sasuke were to say something, squinting his little eyes like he’s doing now, the moon had some... red spots?

Wait.

In a painful lapse of awareness, Sasuke widened his eyes and immediately drew a kunai. He searched for his reflection, looking for the Sharingan spinning happily in his eyes, but there was nothing. They were as black and boring as always.

He won’t deny that he felt disheartened. For a moment, Sasuke really thought his kekkei genkai had appeared and he’d have something to put on the dinner table, besides the pie, but maybe the moon is just different today. It must be some new variation. Astronomical discoveries happen frequently, anyway. He let it go as he reached home.

Sasuke didn’t need to face the portal with the Uchiha fan to realize that something was terribly wrong. The error was in the air, pulsing a silent scream. Though he was an academy student, he clearly sensed the irregular chakra leaking from the gates of the complex. Suddenly, the wind tightened around his throat like an invisible hand. The chakra signatures vanished with violent speed, as if, on a dark street, all the streetlights had suddenly exploded. All at once, Sasuke felt his own fear rise from the earth, materializing into thorny, twisted roots, and entangling his feet. For several minutes, he stood firm in a grip of pure terror.

The sharp, thin line filling his ears returned a static noise. It appeared from time to time, Sasuke couldn’t pay enough attention, but it sounded like the voice of his neighbor. Once, it had been one of the military police officers, the one who gave him the most headaches on the way to the academy. But it wasn’t. It couldn’t be. For in all these years, their voices had never screamed in that constant agony. In that suffering, putrid and excruciating, that almost made the boy wet his pants.

Then, an animalistic scream cut through the air. It stretched to the back of his sick mind and slowly began to take its place in his memory as the meaning of horror. He could hear the choking plea, drowned by a thin sound. His teeth clenched. They were cutting flesh.

The back of his neck froze to the point of burning. The smell of charcoal became unbearably powerful, sticking to his nostrils with soot, making him feel as if breathing was a reality far away. As if that wasn’t enough, the sky thundered. The rain Sasuke had feared all day finally showed signs of falling.

But he didn’t want to go back home. Something told him to stay where he was and take the rain right there. At least that way, he’d stay alive.

Not much later, something painful and hot pulsed from his chest, so intensely that Sasuke checked if there was blood in his mouth. He felt his heart leaving with another cold lapse of awareness. One that Sasuke didn’t know where it came from, except from the madness of not breathing for so long.

His family. Mom. Dad. Big brother.

Where are they?

He could barely breathe because his heart swelled and stole all the space his lungs needed to function. His feet should have peeled off the ground and run as fast as possible, even if it meant cutting his body in half and crawling on his elbows, leaving his legs behind, trapped in the depths of the earth. Sasuke needed to see his family. Protect them from whatever this was.

Panting, he drew energy from who knows where to seek his family's chakra signature. His eyes widened as he immediately sensed them. Itachi was the first, and out of the three, he had the strongest energy. It emanated density, a poorly written anxiety, and seemed to be in action. Fighting against who knows what. From there, Sasuke prayed everything would go well, and Itachi wouldn't get hurt. After all, his brother was very strong. Soon, his attention shifted to mom and dad.

The energy was quiet. Strangely silent. With furrowed brows, Sasuke couldn't tell what they were doing, much less what they were feeling, but they were still there. They were alive. The three of them.

A great wave of relief drowned him. It was enough gas to lift his feet off the ground and march toward the Uchiha Complex at full speed.

Sasuke ran. Fast enough not to notice a body sprawled on the porch of a white house, now splattered with red. Nor the hand severed, partially hidden by the trunk of a tree, which was suddenly illuminated by the golden reflection of a thunderstrike. It was deserted. He imagined that, due to the rain, all the Uchiha must have already been home. That would explain their sudden disappearance.

In the middle of a turn, he stopped. He knew the path to his house like the back of his hand. However, now, for some reason, the path was wrong. What should have been a clear way, free of obstacles, was now blocking him. Sasuke realized this too late, already fallen to the ground with his knee deeply scraped and burning. Groaning, he gripped his leg and looked at the cause of his fall.

The scream that followed was real. Visceral. As terrifying as the ones he had heard outside the Uchiha complex.

It was like being thrown into a blender, spinning endlessly while blood pooled on the soles of his slippers. Then, in his hands. And finally, on his white shorts, once pristine. But the cut on his knee wasn’t as severe as the wounds on the corpse before him. Sasuke wasn't brutally mutilated. He wasn’t thrown into the street to be stepped on by anyone.

His father’s hoarse voice echoed in his mind during a sunny training day: "If there’s a corpse in the Uchiha complex, then, without a doubt, an attack is underway." Thus, Sasuke was supposed to stay calm and... and... try not to scream, like he just did. Ideally, he also shouldn't crawl away from the body just to fall into another, and scream again. Because that would be a never-ending cycle. A horror that Sasuke would choke on until he died.

He lifted his chin, searching for something, any solution, a way out, but only found the sea of corpses he was swimming in. Drowning in the blood that wasn’t his. Melting into the scorching hell, where the mangled flesh of those bodies fused with his bleeding knee.

A vertigo crossed him as he got up, his body torn between vomiting and stomping on the faces of the corpses he definitely knew. The ones who had screamed for help earlier, and he hadn’t responded.

The rain finally fell. Sasuke felt the weight of a thousand knives dropping on his shoulders. Even mixing with the water, the blood didn't lighten a single tone. It only increased the size of the puddles.

The only thing he thought as he crossed the red sea was ‘I don't want to die, I don't want to die, I don't want to die.’ His little child’s mind wasn’t capable of drawing up a plan to escape, much less of leaving alive. Everyone ended up with the corpses coming back to life and pulling at their feet, scratching them, choking them, amputating their little legs. And they would laugh. They would do it out of pure revenge for Sasuke having stayed outside, comfortably far from the chaos, while they succumbed. His body turned to jelly.

Suddenly, his foot got caught on something, and he screamed in fright. It was hair. Desperate, Sasuke widened his eyes when he realized whose it was.

Asuka-san. His nanny.

The kind girl who took care of him when his family was off on missions as summoned jounins, and he had no one else to stay with. Sasuke liked her black hair. It shone so much it seemed like it was made of water. Her smile had dimples, and in the afternoons, she’d tell him stories of great ninjas. Asuka-san would run with him in the training field, put him to sleep, and make him breakfast. The pancakes were wonderful. She always made a little happy face with honey.

When Mom took on the responsibilities of a ninja to dedicate herself to the family, Asuka-san's services were dismissed. Sasuke cried, screamed, and, despite loving his mom, he wanted to see his big sister at any cost. But Asuka was busy studying to become a ninja. Sasuke had no choice but to accept.

However, as he grew, Sasuke developed a certain autonomy. He wanted, more than anything, to show all his shinobi skills to Asuka-san. Smiling. Not vomiting in her face.

His throat kept burning until it unloaded all his fear onto Asuka's beautiful hair. Sasuke kicked and struggled as his body stopped, but it didn't work!

It just kept coming, coming, coming, coming, and coming!

Until there was nothing left but the certainty that he himself had violated his sister. He turned his back and kept walking before he blinded himself with his own tear-filled eyes.

He couldn't.

Submerged in acidic guilt, Sasuke turned around. He crouched on his good leg and, raising his trembling arm, wiped the foul vomit off Asuka-san. Her warm, living skin dragged viscously across his cold face. In life, her features were gentle. Now, they were completely horrified.

Asuka-san died with her eyes wide open in fear. Sasuke closed her eyelids with his chubby palms and caressed her cheek with his thumb.

"Me... me sorry, Asuka-san. I'm sorry. Forgive me, please, please, please!" he sobbed, choking, barely seeing through his tears. "I will find who did this to you. I will... give you a decent rest, I will... Wait for me here, sister. Wait for me... I will fix things. I will."

Touching her cheek one last time, Sasuke swam back in the pool of bodies.

His mouth, acidic from the vomit, mumbled inaudible phrases as he leaned on the bodies, heading toward the main house. Toward his family. Sasuke just wants to get home and apologize to Dad for not completing the training that took so long to come, since Fugaku was always too busy as the police chief to train him regularly. He wants to apologize to Itachi for not taking care of him, who appeared so tired in the morning. Then, he will kneel before Mom and beg her to forgive him for losing the pie that Sasuke had been thinking about all day. To redeem himself, he wants to burn his little fingers in the oven.

When his hand tried to feel for the next body, there was none. Sasuke's frantic, tear-soaked eyes glimpsed the light at the end of the trail of dead, and finally, the house's facade. He limped as fast as he could.

The rain pushed the warm blood (theirs), trapped all over his little body, down to the ground, stripping him of warmth. He shivered. That's why he trembled when he opened the door, pulling off his slippers by the heels. He ripped off his school bag, slung across his body, and threw it far. He barely managed to stand in the entryway. He raised his hands to his sides for balance, but soon found himself leaning against the wall.

The house was dark, illuminated only by the faint reflection of streetlights from the corner. With horror, he noticed there was no one there. He breathed quietly and flicked the light switch. It didn't work. Someone had cut the power , he assumed.

The shadows in the house turned the furniture into strange creatures. They flew between rooms under an eerie static. They resembled the death outside.

"Mom! Dad!" he called into the empty living room. No one came. Sasuke whimpered and tried again in three more rooms to receive the same silence. He limped to the bathrooms, leaving a trail of blood behind him, and knocked on the door. No one.

"Itachi!" Sasuke coughed. His dry and sore throat brought him the terrible sensation of eating dirt. "I need help! Where are you? I… I’m scared!"

Sasuke wiped his thick tears with the same arm he had used to wipe Asuka-san, not caring about the mess.

Upon entering the kitchen, his back arched like that of a frightened cat due to the deafening thunder that invaded the kitchen window along with a flash of lightning. The first thing Sasuke saw was the fruit basket on the floor. The blueberries rolled across the tatami, staining everything blue. Then, the strong smell of something burning coming from the oven. Despite the strong odor, Sasuke caught a slight citrus scent. Orange. The pie.

He slowly turned his head, eyes wide open, towards the oven. He found black smoke trying to escape from the edges of the appliance.

"The mother didn’t… she didn’t see the pie?" he murmured hoarsely. He diverted his gaze to the scattered blueberries. "The syrup. My blueberries. Where… where’s mommy ?"

Sasuke felt a sharp chill run down his spine. Suddenly, not even his breath made any sound. There was… there was only one other place to look. Sasuke had to go up the stairs and check the bedrooms.

Resigned, he turned his back on the pie as if saying goodbye to life.

He climbed the stairs, leaning on the handrail. By the last step, his lungs burned. Finally, he realized he had been holding his breath the whole time. He felt dizzy. Sasuke took deep breaths to stabilize his balance, but in the middle of them, he heard a sound. One that he couldn’t have made , nor the rain.

It was words. From inside the rooms. Someone was speaking.

Mommy.

With an enormous strength, Sasuke bolted towards his parents' bedroom, audibly stomping on the tatami all the way down the corridor. His chest swelled with joy, his sour mouth twisted into a bizarrely happy smile, and finally, the bad smell disappeared. Sasuke would open the door, find mom, dad, Itachi, and the wonderful smell of pie! They would eat together as a family, happy and laughing, and Sasuke would apologize later. Everything would be okay.

He gripped the doorknob, so hard his fingers turned white. He opened it by millimeters before hearing a muffled groan of pain, followed by several disconnected choking sounds. The person seemed to be in great pain, as Sasuke could hear them struggling.

His little heart was beating so loudly that, in a poorly thought-out impulse, he opened the door just a little more. Enough to put one eye through and spy.

"Son..."

Sasuke froze. It was Daddy’s voice.

His little hand on the doorknob stiffened. It glued there and didn’t want to move. On the other hand, his eyes almost popped out of his face from the effort he used to widen them.

The sight of Daddy, torn apart, lying on the tatami in his own room, threw him into the darkest depths of an ocean. He couldn’t see. He didn’t move. He couldn’t feel the weight of the body. He only felt cold. He needed to stay like this, perfectly still. Soon, a shark would come, and Sasuke wouldn’t struggle while being devoured. It would only make things worse. It would hurt more. But Dad had just looked at the door, directly at Sasuke’s little eye. His twisted mouth moved with words that Fugaku never says aloud, but now he says, on the verge of death. "I love you." That’s what Sasuke heard in the echo of the shark’s stomach, like a distant dream. Suddenly, he noticed a great stream of water blurring his vision. It felt real.

Daddy was dead, and Sasuke did nothing.

A metallic sound jolted him from his stupor. Someone, Daddy’s killer, moved a katana. Their grip on the hilt was firm. It cut the air just by hearing it. Between the lines, Sasuke managed to hear the warning that, if he looked up, he would die too. He wondered if no one would do anything about it, just like he did nothing for Dad. If not, it would be fair. Sasuke deserved to die, anyway.

But Mommy didn’t.

"I hope you know what you’re doing," she said calmly. Serenely. As if the love of her life weren’t sprawled out and lifeless in her lap. Even with little light, you could see her face free of any expression lines.

"I do," a squeaky, almost unrecognizable voice replied. Sasuke felt a chill.

Mikoto nodded slowly. However, during the motion, she caught the eye of her baby peeking through the door. Immediately, her calm demeanor vanished, replaced by horror. Her wrinkle-free eyes filled with tears. "Take care of him. Please."

The killer took a deep breath. Automatically, Sasuke thought he was losing his patience. Restless, the little one only knew that they were going to kill mommy, going to kill mommy, going to kill mommy!

He couldn’t stay still again. He wouldn’t.

"I’ll take care of him."

"Good," she replied immediately. "Now do it."

Sasuke’s eyes widened when mommy, without saying a word, hissed, ‘Close your eyes.’ When the katana was raised into the air a second time, Sasuke did everything except close his eyes.

Violently, he pulled the sliding door as he reached for her arms.

"Mommy!" he screamed wildly, with palpable desperation woven into each letter, ready to grab her, save her, and get out of there!

Mikoto sobbed and opened her arms to her baby, asking God for one last hug. May God give her this mercy before the end.

Sasuke, too, really wished he could reach her.

But the katana touched him first.

Sasuke watched, with his Sharingan awakened, as his mommy’s beautiful face contorted the moment the blade pierced her stomach. How her mouth opened in shock, blood drooling out, and her eyes widened in disgust. The choking sounds that came from her throat were the same as Dad’s, suffocated and with no set time to stop. Mommy looked like a fish out of water, flailing on the tatami to the point where Dad’s head vibrated in her lap. Until she stopped breathing.

Mommy fell dead on top of Sasuke, her arms outstretched, spilling blood into his ear along with the last muffled breath her body, out of water, could produce. They were hugging. Sasuke reached her. But mommy was gone. And, through the tomoe, Sasuke would remember this forever.

Their blood is staining his t-shirt. His shorts. His skin, impregnated with soot. It’s hot everywhere, viscous in every joint Sasuke tries to move. His knee burns because mommy’s dress is starting to stick to the wound. He feels her weight crushing him on the floor. Sasuke wants to ask her to get off, but Dad and mommy aren’t breathing.

It doesn’t take long before he starts screaming again.

It’s brutal how his mouth explodes, shouting to the four corners of the haunted room for them to get up. How he failed miserably in pushing his dead parents away. He even choked, coughing repeatedly before thrashing again, kicking his feet on the tatami as Mikoto’s hair entered his mouth. His throat tore apart with more screams, hoping the strands would come out, but there was only the agony of having hair in his mouth and being unable to remove it.

When the sharp pain in his knee triples in strength, Sasuke realizes he wants to die.

Dad and mommy aren’t breathing. There’s a murderer here in the room. Soon, Sasuke will join them, and for now, the only thing he can do is beg.

"Kill me!" Sasuke cried with his head pulled to the floor. He sobbed countless times before asking again. "I can't take it anymore! Everyone is dying! Everything hurts! It hurts! It hurts! It hurts! It hurts! It hurts!" At some point, Sasuke could no longer find his voice to scream. He settled for opening his mouth and yelling in a silent gasp. His face turned redder and messier. "Kill me... please."

The murderer sighed. Sasuke didn’t even shiver. He was just grateful.

Then he heard a voice. And everything stopped.

"Foolish little brother. I pity you."

His pain disappeared. Everything, for a long time, became instantly numb. The only pulse in his little body was in his ears. It echoed in every cavity, embracing his eardrums, and repeatedly whispering the voice of the one he loved so much. The one he swore he would take care of, talk to, and later, bring a beautiful and well-cut piece of pie.

It can’t be. Simply can’t.

Itachi. His brother. His beloved brother. He is, apparently, the one who killed their clan. Their parents. He will kill him too, in just a few moments. It’s his beloved Itachi, his shinobi role model, who approached with heavy steps, then crouched low enough for Sasuke to face his scarlet eyes spinning in something he doesn’t know. In a new pattern. But he doesn’t have the strength to ask. Not even to scream. He only reached out his little hand to touch the tip of one of his brother’s slippers and surrendered to the shine of that Sharingan, a thousand times more powerful than his.

The room distorted.

Both his parents and Itachi disappeared. Sasuke didn’t fight against any of this. He just waited for his vision to solidify into something tangible. When it happened, Sasuke found himself in front of the Uchiha compound. Staring at the fan. His feet glued to the ground. Feeling something terribly wrong. Feeling Itachi.

The scene shifted and Sasuke found himself inside the compound, exactly on the path that led to his home. Unknowingly, he began to breathe too quickly. Now, the path was completely clear. The white sand shone immaculately. There was no death. There was no pain. It was just the Uchiha compound. It was a normal night.

Blinking, Sasuke mentally noted that when he got home, he would ask dad to schedule a doctor’s appointment. These hallucinations need to disappear if he wants to be a ninja. Damn it, he really swore he saw a massacre and a pile of bodies around here not even half an hour ago! Well, maybe all the stress at the academy is getting to him. Damn socializing. He’s not lending his pencils to anyone.

Calmly, he tried to follow the path home. He salivated just thinking about the smell of the pie! Did mommy manage to use his blueberries? And Itachi, was he rested from the mission?

As if summoned, his older brother jumped in front of him. How strange. He’s still in the same ANBU gear. Wasn’t he released yet?

"Nii-san," Sasuke called cheerfully. "Let’s go home. Mommy made pie."

"Oh, she did?" Itachi asked sweetly, as he always did.

"Yes!" Sasuke grinned from ear to ear, laughing. "Let’s go quickly, or dad will get mad at us. And then mom will be sad."

Itachi let out a chuckle, then took a step forward.

"They won’t mind, otouto."

Sasuke furrowed his brow. Itachi is smiling too much. "But why?"

"Because they’re dead."

Suddenly, a rain of bodies and blood fell from the sky. The thunder lit up their faces, drenched in terror, and the deep cuts that led to their deaths. With wide eyes, Sasuke lifted his chin just to see the back of a corpse fall right on top of him. He tried to run in another direction, but in despair, he noticed his legs were paralyzed. Sasuke couldn’t escape, even if he wanted to. So, after just a minute of rain, he was buried under the heat of a thousand corpses and sticky blood. His piercing screams didn’t reach Itachi, nor did his little hand, now broken, trying to shove between the bodies in the hope that his beloved brother would grab it. Sasuke whimpered, wondering why Itachi was taking so long.

The hand that pulled him, however, didn’t take long to touch him. Just enough for Sasuke to breathe audibly, feeling the air completely pure in comparison to the putrid air below. From above, he searched for Itachi among the bodies, but there was no sign of him. Until his brother appeared at his side. He wasn’t disheveled, nor horrified at being buried under a mountain of the dead. On the contrary, Itachi smiled gently. For a moment, Sasuke felt at home. His beloved brother raised two familiar fingers, and Sasuke already knew what was coming. He waited eagerly.

The flick to his forehead pushed him thousands of meters away, throwing him into the air like a limp kite. The cold and rain only disappeared when Sasuke felt the tips of his toes burning. Literally, his slippers had actually carbonized, and his little feet were now on fire. Unable to hold on, Sasuke screamed in excruciating pain, wanting to stomp his feet away from the heat, but in reality, only finding the damn paralysis.

His cry for help wasn’t enough to get him out of there. No one answered. The tears evaporated before they even reached his cheeks, and his scalp seemed to melt, because there was no other explanation for the prickling goo running down his neck. At some point, he convulsed. His charred body shook uncontrollably, following his agonizing screams. He stopped screaming when his mouth foamed. For a moment, Sasuke was thankful. It didn’t burn like he expected.

The heat decreased considerably with a noise. It was mechanical, and without a doubt, it needed oil because of the creaking. Sasuke didn’t lift his white eyes to see what it was, he only heard the sound of mommy’s beautiful voice.

"The pie is ready. I’m taking it out of the oven now, dear." 

"Great," Daddy replied. "Sasuke will love the surprise when he gets here." 

Mikoto laughs. "Yes. Try to stay alive until then." 

"Of course I will. I just hope he doesn’t kill our baby too slowly." 

"Don’t say that, dear. He will be lucky." 

Mikoto sighs, taking Sasuke out of the oven. "Yeah, you’re right."

Itachi’s eyes spun for the last time, bringing his little brother back to the parents' room along with the most terrible scream of the night. One so sharp and full of suffering that it broke part of the window glass, and made Itachi turn his face away for a long moment. Blood flew from Sasuke’s small mouth as he screamed, and fell into Mommy’s hair.

The awareness that she was crushing him brought an agonizing heat, but he didn’t have the courage to move her again. It burned just thinking about touching her. Her heat burned his skin, his clothes, and it was simply too much. Sasuke couldn’t take it anymore. He couldn’t anymore.

He struggled for much longer, shuddering from the overwhelming sensory overload, and cried until his voice died. (But Sasuke had died a long time ago) . Finally, he curled up where he could and groaned in spasms of pure pain. Because under the clothes, it still burned. His skin, too.

Between his heavy, wet eyelids, Sasuke watched the rain hitting the broken window. Then, calmer, he tried to move the tips of his toes. It worked. He finally realized the paralysis had gone away. He returned to the bitter reality.

Sasuke ceased his attempts to push his mom's weight off of him. On the contrary, he embraced her with the little strength he had, trembling.

"Mom... I'm so scared. Really scared. Itachi nii-san put me in a very nasty genjutsu... It wasn’t like this during our training sessions. I’m so horrified I peed my pants. I think I pooped too. Please don’t yell at me. I’m sorry I dirtied your tatami, mommy, but I couldn’t help it. I’m so scared I think I’m going to die. That’s it. I’ll die from fear, mommy. At least this way I can be with you and daddy, right?"

Sasuke buried his nose in mommy’s fragrant hair. In the parts where the blood hadn’t reached. In the soft. The tip of his nose curled into her shampoo, soft, without any stickiness. It was nice, after all. Mommy’s hugs were always the best. His little feet felt daddy’s beard. It itched, but Sasuke didn’t mind. He just felt safe.

"I'm dying. My chest hurts," he whispered in a miserable thread of a voice. "It's hard to breathe... I get dizzy every time I try. My tongue is floating in my mouth, I can barely talk and... and... My stomach is burning. Is this how it is to die?"

He smiled weakly.

"Let's go. Mommy. Daddy."

The world went dark.

It’s unknown how much time passed, but Sasuke’s peace ended the moment he woke up with an unbearable burning sensation in his arms. He screamed before understanding what was really happening, and just as quickly as it came, the burning faded. His chest, though crushed, rose and fell in a concerning rhythm, and he whimpered nonstop. He thought he had gone back into the oven. But he only found the room. Immediately, a huge wave of depression hit him. He was still alive.

"You fainted." Itachi was still crouched next to Sasuke, replacing the Amaterasu with three tomoe. "So weak. You’re pathetic, Sasuke. You're not even worth killing."

Sasuke groaned. His pout expelled bubbles of saliva while his little shoulders trembled. The echo of the room intensified his cries.

Childish. Depressed. Exhausted.

"Nii-san..." his little mouth babbled between tears. "Itachi. Nii-san... Why?"

The answer took a while to come. Sasuke didn’t dare make eye contact to find out why.

"To test the limits of my ability," Itachi replied firmly. Not a drop of regret.

That was how Sasuke broke.

Suddenly, his crying stopped and his only task was to sew his swollen eyes to the ceiling. Like a ragdoll thrown into a pile of toys. Finally, he heard the rain blend with the buzzing in his ears.

"Are you telling me that... you killed our whole family to... No." A shiver ran up his spine. "Give me a better reason. I won't accept this."

Itachi closed his eyes.

"It’s very important."

And since then, no one said anything more. They decided to listen to the sound of the rain of blood.

"You are... strong," Sasuke murmured after a thunderclap. "Very, very strong. I even wanted to kill you, but I can't fight against you. I'm weak. Please, kill me too."

Sasuke's little eyes, surrounded by terrible dark circles for his age, met the face of his older brother. His newly awakened Sharingan was gone, leaving only the deep, dark eyes of a baby. The little otouto. They shone in the light of the lightning, reaching out to Itachi with invisible hands.

"I saw... bodies outside. They were so small. You... can kill me too, can't you? I bet... they didn’t fight against you either."

For a brief moment, Itachi held his breath. The tips of his teeth ground into crumbs, so much force did he use to clench them. But Sasuke didn’t notice. He was too weak for that.

"Even they were better than you."

"You’ve gone mad. Completely mad..." the little one murmured to himself. His eyes were empty. "You need to die."

"If you wish to kill me," Nii-san's relentless voice cut through the air, "feed your hatred for me, despise me. Survive in such a disgraceful way. Either way, run. Hold on to your miserable life."

After a few seconds, Sasuke let out a bitter laugh.

"I wasn't talking about you. I was talking about myself. I need to die." The little one looked at him again, stroking Mommy’s hair. "You took... everything from me. I don’t want to live with this hatred. I don't even want to wake up tomorrow. I think I'm... more sad than angry. Or maybe not. I don’t know what to think. I’m too scared for that. But I didn’t know you were a liar, brother. That hurts."

The katana scraped the ground, and Sasuke didn't flinch. He kept replaying the day and fell straight into the classroom, with Iruka’s endless chatter about his liar identification training. What a load of nonsense. Iruka is a fraud who doesn’t know how to identify them. He doesn’t know Itachi. Much less Sasuke.

"Take Mommy off me. I want to get up."

At first, his older brother became a wax statue. He did nothing for a long time, until Sasuke finally heard the rustling of his heavy armor in motion. His big, strong hand lifted Mommy up. Sasuke noticed, in slow motion, strands of her hair tickling the tip of his cold nose, an unfortunate farewell before she was tossed like trash on top of Daddy. Sasuke groaned as her dress, which had stuck to the open wound on her knee, was suddenly pulled.

With effort, Sasuke placed his little hands on the ground, pushing the excruciating dizziness away. He focused on his ragged breathing until he finally managed to stand. He felt the heavy shorts of excrement.

But, with a trembling chin, he faced an Itachi he had never seen before in his life. He was crying blood, but there was no sign on his face that indicated sadness. Everything was sharp. Cutting. Dangerous. The dried blood on his cheeks proved the point.

On autopilot, Sasuke drew a kunai from the holster on his thigh and advanced slowly. Pathetically slow. It was his last bit of strength to reach his brother. Immediately, Itachi prepared himself, expecting to twist Sasuke’s wrist, knock the kunai away, and put him back in his proper place.

However, contrary to expectations, Sasuke stopped a step away from him, with the weapon raised, staring at him with the darkest look Itachi had ever seen on his chubby face, smeared with drool and vomit. That kind of desolation belonged to war survivors. To those who had been deprived of water and food for many weeks. Foreign prisoners. Not a seven-year-old child.

A cold wave swept over the older brother. He did this. He trampled, until nothing was left, the shards of his little brother's innocence. There was no reason for such surprise. It was exactly as he had planned. For now, his only hope is that Sasuke surrounds himself with hate, so that he can kill him in a not-so-distant future. He needs this child, who stares at him without emotion, to become his executioner. Itachi will accept dying like this. It’s deserved. But not now. There’s a task that must be completed at any cost. He needs to find Akatsuki by the next order, and he must wait for Sasuke to grow stronger. Therefore, he couldn’t afford to collapse. Especially at this point in the game.

"Is this...?" Sasuke starts, his voice as emotional as his expressionless face. "Is this the real reason? You swear that... was this the reason?"

"I don’t know why you insist so much. I’ve already told you, yes."

"Iruka-sensei taught us to identify liars, but I don’t know if I’m right or wrong. Were you a complete lie? Or... I don’t know. Did you ever love me? I mean, this is your ‘at any cost,’ right? Don’t... blame me for doubting," Sasuke asked slowly, oblivious to his brother's killer's bristling hairs. "I just want an answer. Please."

But Nii-san didn’t respond. Otouto swallowed the silence as if it were nails.

Immediately, the tip of the kunai turned and pierced Sasuke’s chest. The harsh, sharp snap echoed in the room as his little hand gripped the hilt, which continued to disappear under his muscular tissue, piercing the center of his already injured heart.

Torn from his own ice bath, Itachi abandoned the cold persona, his eyes wide. His mouth opened in panic. In the next instant, he threw himself on the floor, screaming his little brother’s name in a desperate chorus.

His otouto fell into his arms. Compared to the peace his small face exuded, Itachi plunged into an endless nightmare. His strong, well-trained hands pulled him close, resting him against his gurgling chest.

With his senses blurry, Sasuke was puzzled by how Itachi’s stomach moved. He didn’t understand why he was screaming so animalistically, or why something wet was falling on his face as the world darkened. He only felt the pressure of Itachi’s strong arms. Pulling him closer and closer. Rocking him into an eternal sleep. Unwillingly, Sasuke smiled. Itachi loved him, then. Not so bad. He could die with that. He would tell mommy and daddy about how Itachi screamed his name, and maybe they would forgive him. The pain in his knee faded, and the kunai stabbed in his chest didn’t even tickle.

For the first time that night, Sasuke was at peace.

Something corroded Itachi’s throat. His mouth didn’t know whether to cry or scream, resulting in a sickly mix of anguish escaping from his chest. The same chest that carried his little brother’s lifeless body. Who hasn’t breathed for a few minutes. Who left with the same empty eyes that Itachi had so dreaded.

No, no, no, no, no, no…

A shrill thunder covered his most monstrous scream. It cut his throat in a futile attempt at pain compared to all the suffering he had caused with his own hands that night. His eyes hurt so much he wanted to rip them from his face. His nose didn’t work, and Itachi sank into ridiculousness. He bent over his brother, protecting him from his last sparks of shame, and apologized without pause. For a long time, he cried in an endless source of suffering, wetting his little brother’s face as if he were under the rain.

At one point, Itachi caught a glimpse of his parents out of the corner of his eye. They stared at him with a cadaverous expression that radiated pure disgust. Itachi shuddered but screamed out of sheer fear when he met Sasuke’s lifeless eyes again.

He failed the mission. Itachi didn’t save his little brother. On the contrary, he lost him. Lost everything. He lost because he took his duty too seriously. He obeyed Konoha at any cost, like a little puppy, without even considering the emptiness that would follow many years later. For both him and Sasuke, if he were still alive. Beyond the dozens of lives lost, the highest price was the life of his little brother. Therefore, it is only fair that Itachi give his own life as well.

Masterfully, Itachi pulled the kunai from his little brother’s chest just to cut his own throat. Choking, the weapon fell to the ground with a thin noise, and Itachi’s vision was filled with red. His convulsing arms clutched Sasuke as the blood poured relentlessly onto his little brother’s tired face.

He lost all strength when his legs gave way. He collapsed to the floor, next to his brother’s lifeless body, then looked at his parents. With his eyes, he also apologized.

Itachi truly hopes that, in the afterlife, his family forgives him. He prays that they would lovingly embrace him, yearns for the pats on the back, and that they would then pull him to the dinner table, because the orange pie with red fruit syrup just came out of the oven.

Sasuke would love that, for a change. The thought makes Itachi smile.

His family had finally reunited.

[...]

Konoha was in chaos. The Hokage barely left his office to deal with the council. Besides, there wasn’t enough space to bury all the Uchiha. The Third Hokage had already sent a request to expand the cemetery, but a villager, the owner of the neighboring property, refused to grant permission. Enraged, he said that even the earth should not consume the Uchiha remains. He suggested burning them.

The Hokage refused. Then, he took his ANBU out of the kennel and sent them to convince the man. He didn’t oversee a single moment of the land addition. He was too busy tying up loose ends with Danzo and the elders. Damn poorly executed massacre.

On one hand, he regretted what he had asked the young Itachi to do, but on the other, his political side sought other routes. The Third Hokage had lost his double agent. Soon, he didn’t even know how he would deal with Akatsuki knocking on his village’s doors in a few years, or how to face Orochimaru, and even less what Danzo was plotting.

He would be forced to open an investigation to mask the corruption. In the Uchiha clan, there were no living witnesses to point out the murderer. The real killer was no longer alive either. And, to top it off, the Hokage would never admit that the elimination of the Uchiha was the idea of the Leaf itself. That’s why his head hurt just thinking about what was to come. Could he consider another coup? After all, how many clans would he have to accuse and investigate to, in the end, file the case as unsolved? The leaders would be furious, without a doubt. But if necessary, the Third Hokage would pin the blame on some rogue ninja.

Despite everything, the Third Hokage just prayed that the conflict would remain only in Konoha. Otherwise, if someone pointed a finger at the neighboring villages, blood would surely spill. Moreover, to make his headache worse, the news that the Leaf lost such a powerful kekkei genkai as the Sharingan would be a great opportunity for attacks, as it would give the impression that Konoha had been weakened. And what if they tried to steal the nine-tailed beast? Damn. He would increase security around Naruto, but that would be expensive. Hopefully, that would fit into the payment spreadsheet.

It was endless chaos. So stressful.

The Hokage sighed as he threw the files on the table, taking a moment of silence to thank Itachi. Or almost. At the end of that time, bile rose to his throat when he remembered how the boy had been found. He had committed suicide. With his throat cut, he fell next to his younger brother, a few meters from his parents, right after killing his whole clan. The deal was to spare Sasuke, so why did everyone die? What happened in that house? What the hell had Itachi Uchiha planned?

The Third Hokage furrowed his brow, seeking answers. He pulled an invisible timeline and tried to decipher it in many ways, only to conclude that it was a pity that Itachi Uchiha, at the age of thirteen, had to be his scapegoat. The shinobi world is cruel when it wants to be, Hiruzen whispered as he left work that day. He fell asleep wishing that the Uchiha would rest in peace, for he himself had long since lost his own peace.

On the day of the main family's burial, few were present. Only some downcast villagers, the merchants who served Mikoto at the market, or those who admired Itachi. But most came just to spit on Fugaku’s grave. Disgusting leader. Thank goodness he’s dead. One less weight for Konoha. Those damn Uchihas. The Hokage didn’t even dare go.

By late afternoon, with no audience and under an orange sky, a blonde boy sat in front of Sasuke’s gravestone. Behind him, another girl, with short hair, crossed her legs beside him. The two didn’t speak, they just stared at the stone in front of them, not knowing what to do. At some point, Hinata heard Naruto sniff, and she found his face completely devastated.

It was a mourning that Naruto had long since forgotten.

Hinata put her hand on his shoulder, ignoring her own tears in order to comfort him, while no one said a word. They stayed like that for a long time. The sky grew darker and darker, and suddenly, Hinata sobbed loudly.

Naruto snapped out of his trance and turned his trembling chin toward her. It took a few seconds for his gaze to convey guilt.

"I'm sorry," Naruto stammered, looking away to Sasuke’s grave. "I’m here crying, and I didn’t even check on you." He grabbed his knees and held back another sob. "It hurts so much."

"I know," she answered weakly, wiping the tears from her face. Her kindness broke under her own suffering. "You don’t need to apologize."

Naruto sighed. His red eyes stared at the kanji forming Sasuke Uchiha’s name, Beloved Son. His chest twisted in sorrow.

"Why did they do this? It’s so horrible."

"I don’t know. I heard my dad saying that... the Uchiha clan was plotting something."

Naruto’s face turned even redder.

"That’s no excuse for killing!"

"I didn’t say it was," Hinata replied firmly. Her hardened tone made Naruto’s shoulders shrink.

"Sorry."

She shrugged and broke eye contact.

"What saddens me the most is that, that day, was the last time I saw him. And..." She broke another dam of endless tears, sobbing loudly between the pauses. "And even so! I never spoke to him! I did nothing!"

Now it was Naruto’s turn to put his weak hand on her shoulder. Time passed until, from his pocket, he pulled out a pencil with Uchiha designs.

"Hey, calm down. Look, this is from Sasuke. He... gave it to me in class. That day."

Hinata lowered her crying a few notes, pulling her hands away from her face to look at what Naruto was holding. The sight of the pencil took her back to the classroom. With Sasuke in front of her, handing her new printed pictures to cut. With a grumpy look, he would grab a pencil and start writing on the poster while Hinata, with her Byakugan activated, cut her paper as if her life depended on it. The memory warmed her chest, comforting her tears. Naruto brought the pencil closer for her to take, and when she did, Hinata held it like a treasure.

But it is a treasure. After all, that’s from Sasuke.

"Sasuke..." she said, as if affirming it to herself.

Hinata began crying once more alongside Naruto. They ended up embracing, soaking each other’s shoulders until Kou came to get her. With her face swollen and red, she hugged Naruto, then gave a salute, placing her forehead to the ground, to Sasuke’s gravestone.

The cold night fell violently, and Naruto remained there. There was no one to come get him. The old man was too busy in the Hokage Tower, and instead of feeling sad, Uzumaki felt relieved. This way, no one interrupted them. Naruto and Sasuke. They had all the time in the world.

Naruto lay next to him, closing his eyes. He heard Sasuke’s voice, saw his smug face, and smelled the softener on his clothes. He returned to the moment when Sasuke had given him a pencil, asking for absolutely nothing in return, and instead of sobbing, Naruto remained quiet. Soon, a soft cloud of warm feelings wrapped around him. Familiar. The one he had known from somewhere.

Naruto smiled.

"Thank you, Teme."

The next day, instead of flowers, a pencil with a fan design rested on the tomb. As if the one who placed it there had also written the kanji on the gravestone. For around it, there were small childlike drawings of shuriken alongside a few flower stems. Finally, three little dolls holding hands were just below Sasuke Uchiha’s name. They looked like they would never separate.

From somewhere, Sasuke thanked.

The little dolls smiled.