Neutrality is just a prettier version of apathy. Is "It doesn't concern me" and "I don't care" really so far apart?
Mio watches. Her ebony eyes follow the young boy. Fate shadows his footsteps. She can see it even now, his eyes, much like hers, tired and weary. Not the eyes of a child. The weight on his shoulders is heavy. But Mio does not judge. She does not speculate. It is not her place.
She is an observer. Much like how a scientist gazes upon an experiment, but never intervenes. It would affect the outcome of the analysis. The objectivity would become void and useless, thus intervention pointless. It would ruin the natural conclusion.
The clan isolates themselves from potential resources and opportunities. All the while holding up their heads and spitting on their community. Pride prevents them from asking for help. A small, tiny fraction of the Uchiha refuse to participate in the insurrection. Mio is among them. She will not raise her hand against the village, nor would she harm the clan. This faction, nameless and destitute, simply waits for the farce to end.
We smile when we are sad. We laugh even if we are in despair. Society demands all actors to wear their masks until curtain call.
Mio watches Uchiha Shisui. She is his first cousin, his mothers' sisters' daughter. They were never close, despite the blood relation. They get together once a year to pay respects to Kagami and Mio's mother, Yoko. He approached her a few weeks early, saying that he'd be on a mission during the usual time.
"Hey Dad." Shisui begins, pouring a bottle of sake onto the ground. "It's around that time again. I've been doing well. Itatchi and I made ANBU, can you believe it? And I've gotten even better at the shushin! Sasu-chan is adorable, you know. He follows Itachi and I around like a cute little duck…" Shisui trails off awkwardly. "Yeah, I guess that's it. I hope you're well, dad."
Mio hums. "Hello, Mother. I apologize for coming early. I hope you are doing well. As for me, I recently was promoted to jonin. A field promotion, it was a rather dull process. I bought a new kimono. It's a dusty purple color, I know you adore that shade. Adored, I mean." Mio sucks in a deep breath. "I brought some daisies. Since you don- didn't approve of drinking." She places them down before the grave. "Rest well, Mother."
The summer breeze fades to sharp, chilling gusts.
Nothing is truly good. Nothing is only evil. They are merely concepts- labels. If one were to describe good as white, and evil as black, then the world is grey. It's hard to see that sometimes.
Fugaku looks ten years older than he actually is. Thick worry lines are indented into his flesh, dark circles around his eyes, and ashen skin. He is simply exhausted. The Uchiha Clan head is simultaneously being driven to a corner while also trying to spread influence. To grasp upon any foothold. In vain. No one is foolish enough to lend the Uchiha a hand in the current political climate. Danzo wants blood. Blood, he will have. There is no averting this fate. A scapegoat is required. The Uchiha just so happen to fit the glove perfectly.
Mikoto Uchiha flutters around her home, graceful and gentle in nature. Under fixed smiles and porcelain expressions she attends her duties. She does not speak a word of her concerns. It is not her place. If anyone did see her patented smile fade, no one spoke of it.
"So stupid." Mio mutters to herself. "This didn't have to happen…"
Autumn leaves begin to disintegrate. Snow takes its place, overwhelmingly white and solemn.
We are foolish creatures, ever driven by pride and greed. It is our curse, our affliction. The ant is wiser than the human- for it does not seek power.
A single person responsible for an entire village. The fate of an entire people rests on the shoulders of the Hokage alone. One person can only do so much. There are too many things to cover, politics, economics, diplomatic relations, supplies, missions, and so much more to manage. No one can handle that alone.
It is not surprising that Sarutobi Hiruzen failed to see. He is not infallible.
Mio watches a trail of ants. They serve their Queen, and never falter. No wars. No disputes. Just order and efficiency. She wonders if humans would had been better if they were like ants. The Hokage is like the Queen. Except for the fact that his subordinates occasionally disobey orders.
Danzo knows that each hill can have only one Queen. Hiruzen does not.
The snow melts. The ground is soggy and the sky seems to weep endless tears. The flowers are waterlogged and drowned this year.
A man born in jail knows only of what has been in his cell. He does not know what light is- and surely would be blinded if it was presented to him. Sometimes ignorance is better.
That boy smiles and laughs, unknowing of the rising tensions. His name is Sasuke. He is a trigger, a lynchpin in this tragedy. The other one, his brother, is unstable. Anyone who could see past the pretty red eyes would recognize it. The unfaltering dedication Itachi has towards Sasuke. The type of loyalty that inspires suicide.
"This clan is better off dead." Mio speaks to her small faction. "We are linked to a chain of endless madness. The more we love, the worse it becomes as it turns to hate. The village should not suffer for our curse."
Neutral as the non violent faction claimed to be, they could not accept such words.
Mio had always felt disturbed by cherry blossom viewing. The petals always looked like flesh to her. Pieces of flesh floating in the wind, people admiring from the side. Cherry blossoms remind Mio of battle and death. Yet even the pink blossoms would fade away into the barren heat of the summer. A death sentenced in silence.
No one will ever understand you. Some may empathise, but they will never understand how you feel. Each person can only perceive and fully comprehend what is happening to themselves alone.
Shisui is dead. Mio doesn't know how to feel about that. Numbness. She cannot bring herself to care anymore.
She is his closest living relative, so one by one the clan members make their way to give their condolences to her. Fake. She can see it in their eyes. Condemnation. Betrayal. Anger.
When Itachi approaches her, the only thing in his eyes is sorrow.
Mio feels regret. She should have-
It's too late.
The dye is cast.
Pain is the most accurate measure of love. How much you are willing to endure. What you are willing to sacrifice. Is a person truly being honest when they say "I would die for you." or is it a meaningless platitude? One may never know.
She can hear the metaphorical bells tolling. The end approaches.
She sits at her coffee table. A mug of hot chocolate and a plate of cookies sit, untouched. Her fingers tap the wood surface, anxiously waiting. There is nothing more to do than wait.
Mio barely registers the kunai that slits her throat.
Sometimes inaction is the worst choice.
I was wrong.
Sorry, Shisui.