I'm attempting to tackle a fairly complicated topic with this fic which I feel requires a bit of explanation before you read. So please take the time to read this author's note.

As a history student, I have always been fascinated with the concept of unwritten history. It's commonly said that history is written by those in power. Our concept of history is skewed by the perception of those who recorded it, and naturally so. Mankind is innately biased and there is no such thing as an unbiased historical account. Due to this, we often only know one side of a story; the side represented by those in power, those who have the resources to record and preserve historical documents.

This concept led me to the idea for this fic. What if the story we have been told in the Naruto anime/manga is the account of those in power, namely the leaders of Konohagakure? What things are left out by their biased viewpoint? What if their version of history excludes all indications of corruption and wrongdoing within the power structure of the village? Essentially, what if those individuals we know as villains and traitors are in fact the true heroes, fighting a losing battle against a stronger power?

So I've constructed a world that follows essentially the same timeline as the story we know, but is told from the point of view of the men and women who do not write the history. This fic is not an AU fic, but rather an examination of the same events from different points of view.

(Just to make things clear, I do not in any way, shape, or form consider this to be the true Naruto storyline. It's just an concept I found interesting and wanted to explore. I'm still of the opinion that the Konoha ninja are the heroes and in the right. Some of them will be terribly vilified in this fic, and it does make me feel bad, but it's only for the sake of storytelling.)

This fic will also feature a shifting first person perspective. Each chapter will begin with an indication of the current narrator.

That being said, I hope everyone enjoys this little experiment of mine. Feedback is appreciated and adored.

-sor

(Due to a formatting issue, this has been deleted and reposted.)

Fire Country - Uchiha Itachi

Does it bother me to know that I'm branded a traitor and a murderer? Or that I've been hunted mercilessly by men whom I once fought with side by side? That I killed my own mother and father in cold blood along with the rest of our clan and left my beloved little brother orphaned and alone in a village that was just as likely to destroy him as raise him to become the great shinobi he is destined to be?

Yeah, it does. Every minute of every hour. Only I can't let them see. If they want to tarnish my name, vilify me, even turn my brother against me, I cannot stop them. I gave up the chance to be a hero when I refused to kowtow to a corrupt and selfish aristocracy; refused to play the dutiful heir and fulfill my destiny to lead one of Konoha's most noble and ancient clans, second only in dignity and disdain to Hyuuga. I gave up all of that for a feeling in my gut, a sense that things were not as they should be. So let them paint me the villain. Let them say Uchiha Itachi is heartless and insane, the demon who betrayed Konoha to his lust for power.

I would rather be a villain than a coward, even if it meant Sasuke would hate me.

I managed to escape the village before my crime was discovered. Outsiders were rarely allowed within the walls of the Uchiha district, so it was not until a keen eyed observer noted that no lamps had been lit that evening that an investigation was initiated. However, this margin of less than an hour was not enough to put me out of harm's way, especially not when I would no doubt be pursued by ANBU. Luckily, I had the added advantage of knowing ANBU tactics. I had been a captain, after all. If they thought me easy prey, I would have been sorely disappointed in them.

I stopped in mid-flight only for a moment, perching upon a tree branch to cast a glance back the way I had come. There was no visual trace of pursuit yet, but I doubted there ever would be. ANBU did not make themselves known until they were ready and while with Sharingan I might have detected them, I had used a great deal of chakra already and to maintain a constant vigil would not only strain my eyes, but quickly deplete what was left of my chakra. I had underestimated the fight the old man would give me. If not for Mangekyou…

I pushed off from the branch, laughing bitterly to myself. Well hadn't Mangekyou turned out to be a hell of a lot more trouble than it was worth? All those lies spread down through the generations, written in secret texts hidden in underground vaults were meant only to discourage any ambitious Uchiha from developing his Sharingan into a truly magnificent power. Kill your closest friend? Nonsense. Killing Shisui was not what brought forth my gift. Rather, it was nothing more than a desire for the strength with which to bring about the downfall of our long corrupted clan; the desire to live and bring forth justice.

xxxx

Uchiha Shisui was a few years older than I, but the two of us had been nearly inseparable in our youth. Yet as we grew, our paths took different turns. He stepped into the Uchiha tradition of joining the police force while I joined ANBU, advancing as quickly through their ranks as he did through the police. Still, we liked to pretend things were as they always had been; that there was no rift opening between us. We also liked to pretend that the rift only opened between us, two individuals, rather than between myself and the entire clan.

Uchiha was one of Konoha's oldest noble clans and reminding others of that fact was very much a part of being Uchiha. Such a superiority complex didn't gain us many fans among the other ninja of the village. In fact, I was one of the few even tolerated in many social circles thanks to a few friends I had earned during my time with ANBU. It was the first opportunity I'd had to observe how men outside the clan behaved on a regular basis and it made me wonder just what gave Uchiha the right to act as if we were the end all be all of shinobi. Half of them lacked the skill to even use Sharingan properly, let alone to its greatest potential.

However, Shisui was one of those with the right to brag. He was one of the strongest in the clan, a man who showed great potential both physically and strategically. He knew how to maneuver himself throughout the village and into the good graces of the Hokage and village council, a fact that my father was never particularly fond of. Competition was a reality within Uchiha never seen by outsiders and Shisui, despite our childhood bonds, sought to surpass me and usurp my position as heir to the clan.

I couldn't have that. I couldn't let a bastard like him have the power that I was born into, even if my father had begun to look on me as a failure. I no longer held to the clan ideal of power. I no longer supported our work as police and had done all in my power to distance myself from the clan's traditional duties.

I found myself, as time passed, developing more and more discontent regarding our clan's stance of unquestioned obedience to the Hokage. In fact, the entire village seemed to be under such a spell, with few exceptions. Those that spoke out too loudly were either driven away, like the legendary sannin Orochimaru-sama, or arrested as dissenters and traitors. In fact, our prisons held more honest men than criminals; men whose only crime was speaking against Sandaime's brutal stranglehold on the village and surrounding daimyo. The only reason I had not joined those men was that I kept my mouth shut.

Thanks to my silence, father thought me largely ignorant to the politics that ran our little village. However, he really should have remembered that Sharingan was a useful tool not only for battle, but for lip reading as well. I had taken note of any number of conversations between Sandaime and our clan leaders, most of which regarded his orders to subdue yet another outspoken man, but there was one conversation in particular that began to push my mind out of that bubble of familiarity it had been so comfortably hiding within.

Sandaime often made visits to my father's house on official business of the type he liked to keep out of the records. They were very careful to distance themselves from the house on the pretense of a walk in the garden, but the two old fools could not have been more suspicious. Sasuke thought it was amazing to have the Hokage in our little house, but I knew better. I also knew better than to expect my father to let his guard down, even within the walls of our home, so I was forced to exercise more stealth than even I was used to.

Sarutobi managed to maintain that jovial mask of his even when discussing such topics as ruining the lives of half a dozen loyal ninja. It was taboo in Konoha to voice anything that could be seen even remotely as anti-governmental, even if it was obvious where loyalties lay. From where I stood, I could see Sandaime's face straight on, but my father's at an odd angle that made his responses difficult to read at times. Still, knowing him as I did, it was not difficult to fill in the blanks created by my lack of vision.

"Warnings do no good with men such as these." I couldn't hear Sandaime's tone, but it was clear in his expression that he spoke with the utmost casual air, as if he and my father spoke of nothing more important than the weather. "They will not be satisfied until they have fully tarnished my name throughout the village. For the sake of our village, we cannot allow lies to run rampant. I'm sure you, a man of the law, can understand."

My father, a man who always seemed stern and prideful when exerting his dominance over the clan, had managed to completely tarnish the image of our clan with his exaggerated deference. If he'd had his head any further up the Hokage's ass, he might have suffocated on his next compliment. "Of course. I understand completely. Any man who would speak against the Hokage deserves nothing less than a severe lesson in manners. I can promise you they will find no peace in prison."

His answer seemed to satisfy Sandaime, who nodded once, not even bothering to hide his self-satisfied smile. "Thank you, Fugaku. And can I trust that this matter will be addressed at the clan meeting this evening?"

That damn meeting. Father had been demanding my attendance despite the fact that I had been assigned routine patrol duties with ANBU. Apparently I was the only one in the clan who saw anything distinctive about the honor of being appointed to ANBU at only thirteen. Meetings and secrets were more important to them than even prestige, it seemed. ANBU was aware of the conflict, but left such a decision in my hands, promising no penalty should I fail to arrive on time for patrol.

I had planned on avoiding the meeting entirely, but had there been any doubt in my mind over such a choice, it vanished when my father spoke again. "I will distribute the warrants before the night is over. This Saito Hikaru shouldn't be too much trouble, ANBU or no."

My breath caught in my throat. Saito was a man I knew well, despite my relatively short stint with ANBU. In fact, he was a captain I much respected. I couldn't, even in my wildest imaginings, understand why the Hokage was so intent upon seeing him arrested. It was this that finally convinced me to join the clan for their ridiculous little meeting, if only to get to the bottom of the Hokage's inexplicable orders.

xxxx

The moon was full as I continued my flight through forests I knew as well as the streets of the Uchiha district. Had I not known my way, exhaustion might have taken me at any time, leaving me at the eventual mercy of the pursuing ANBU units who drew closer by the moment. I caught sight of them once just as the moon began to set behind the treetops, bathing the forest in the shadows of the coming dawn. Strangely, dawn was darker than night that morning and it left me with an odd churning in my gut. For this morning to dawn so cold and dark after the illumination of the full moon somehow cast a similar fog over my mind.

The memory of what I had done was clear as day and yet also shrouded in fog, which I know must seem absurd. I remember the dampness of blood on my hands, the stickiness when I pressed my fingers together. As a shinobi I was not unfamiliar with such a sensation, but this time, when the blood that stained my hands was that of my own bloodline, the sensation was somehow more surreal. Now, as I fled, the blood had long since dried, staining the black of my clothing and the pale flesh of my hands. I rubbed them together, but only a few flakes of red worked their way free, fluttering lifelessly to settle in the grass.

It was disconcerting to know I was being such a fool over a pair of bloodstained hands. After all, I had received emotional training even before I entered the academy. Uchiha started early and my father had always been determined to groom me into the perfect shinobi; a genius that would once and for all settle any debate that Uchiha was the strongest of the noble families. I should have been amused that I fulfilled my father's desires after all, though not exactly in the method of his choosing.

As the moonlight waned and the first bold hints of sunrise began to cast their shadows through the trees, I stopped once more at the banks of the Nakano River. The forest was still as death, poised as if at the height of a deep breath. No creature stirred, no early morning birds to herald the sunrise. It was as if the fog in my mind had escaped and extended itself over the entire world. My own breaths seemed thunderously loud in my ears as did the pounding of my heart against my chest. Exhaustion was no doubt settling in.

I crouched unsteadily at the banks of the river, intending only to drink briefly and refresh my energy. I had been surviving all night on nothing more than a solitary soldier pill from the stash I had pilfered from my father's room after I had left his lifeless corpse splayed across the kitchen floor. I was thankful now for my quick thinking as I could not have survived the night's pursuit without the nourishment.

I dipped my hands into the running water, the early morning chill sending a brief shiver up my spine. I briefly considered waiting until the next opportunity to drink, knowing that such icy water was likely to do a number on my stomach, even potentially reacting badly with the every present rush of adrenaline, however rational thought was won over by simple human desire. I was thirsty. Yet when I lifted my hands, cupped full of the icy liquid, I could do nothing more than stare into the shallow puddle held in my palms.

The water was red.

Ripples emerged on the surface and it was only then that I realized how my hands shook. Whether it was from cold or from the sudden urge to vomit, I wasn't sure, but the red water trembled, spilling out between my fingers and back into the river where it was swept away briskly in the current. Uchiha blood flowing away down the Nakano. I wondered if somewhere at the base of the river in some forgotten spring the blood from my hands mingled with the Uchiha blood that had followed this same current not so very long ago when Shisui and I had confronted one another along the banks of the river.

xxxx

It was late when I finally returned to the Uchiha district the night Shisui had met his demise and nearly all the lights were out including those in my father's house. Still, I was suspicious and spent nearly half an hour lurking outside, straining to find any evidence that the house was watched. In the end, I realized it was little more than paranoia. If father had been watching for me, I doubt even I could have evaded him that night.

I made it safely to my room, my heart in my throat. Not only was I forced to be wary of father, but Sasuke as well, who had a habit of waiting up when I was away on missions. It was only once I had pushed my bedroom door to that I allowed myself to breathe again, sinking down to the floor with my back braced against the wall. I had been unable until then to process exactly what had occurred that night by the banks of the Nakano. I only knew for certain that Shisui was dead and that I had seen and done things thought long impossible.

Mangekyou… the lost talent of the Uchiha clan. No cases had been confirmed in generations and there were some in the clan who thought it nothing more than fable.

But how could it be a fable when I had seen the world through it? When it had saved my life?

It did not help matters that my memory of the events themselves were unclear, shadowed by shock and exhaustion. The fight had drained me of every ounce of strength and I wondered if I would be able to manage dragging myself from the floor to my bed. That question was answered when what little strength remained was squandered on a few moments of soft laughter. How could I think of such mundane things when I had just altered the history of Uchiha forever; when I had just killed my own cousin without fully realizing until it had been done.

Shisui had accused me of plotting against the clan, citing my near constant presence at ANBU headquarters as undeniable proof. Certainly I had been avoiding the clan to some degree, but I had not yet gathered the courage to pursue a set course of action. Perhaps I never would have had Shisui not intercepted me as I rushed towards the meeting I had so desperately wished to attend. The meeting that would have shed light on the Hokage's intentions towards Saito. And now, both my and Shisui's absence from that meeting would ultimately incriminate me when his corpse was eventually found washed ashore down river. I had penned a suicide note, but any Uchiha policeman with half a brain would know Sharingan can copy handwriting exactly.

In fact, it was nearly the first point they brought to my attention the next morning when Inabi arrived with his lackeys. Still, I knew well enough they had no concrete proof and while such a thing would not have stopped them in most cases, I had two factors working in my favor; the first, my rank within the clan and the second, my association with ANBU. The later forced them to postpone any further investigation until they cleared their actions with the ANBU commanders, a process I planned to slow down with as much red tape as I could possibly create.

Still, despite my best efforts, suspicion grew and a time came when I could hardly walk the streets of the Uchiha district without drawing scowls from various men and women who had made rash assumptions based on hatemongering.

They were all sheep and all ripe for slaughter. It would serve them all right if their arrogance were paid for with a river of Uchiha blood.

xxxx

I traveled as quickly as my fatigued body would allow, but every step began to grow more and more labored. I wondered at times if I would be strong enough to complete the journey, though I had no idea how long the journey would last. My first goal had been to escape Konoha and then the Fire Country. There would be complications with the pursuit should I cross the boarder, especially if I crossed into a country that held another hidden village. In fact, it had been my initial impulse to flee in the direction of the Lightning Country, but the realization came quickly enough that no Cloud nin would welcome a man wearing a forehead protector of the Leaf.

I altered course at some point during mid-morning, turning my focus away from the Lightning Country and onto the nearest alternative, the poor, relatively harmless Rice Field Country. The nearest border to Konoha was a massive landmark; two figures carved into the stone faces of the cliffs. We called it the Valley of the End. No one really knew why it came to have such a name and honestly, very few of our ninja ever ventured out so far. The bordering country was weak and poor so there was little reason to pay it much mind. It was not a threat and it could not afford our exorbitantly high fees, so the Rice Field Country might as well have been a massive crater in the face of the Earth.

Such was yet another reason to head towards the valley. Who would think to search for me there? They considered me a murderer and traitor and I'm sure their first instinct was to prevent me from reaching another village with Konoha secrets. If that were their intentions, I surmised I should be safe once I crossed the border.

Yet when I came in sight of the monument, I found myself gripped with an almost painful reluctance that seemed to manifest itself in my chest, as if my heart had momentarily stopped beating. The sun was drifting lower in the sky, casting a golden glow into the waters as they poured down the cliff face and into the reservoir below. It was a sight all together breathtaking and insurmountably painful. There, carved in stone, was the impassive, stern face of Shodai-sama and my weary mind conjured up image upon image of that great silent head turning to cast its disapproving gaze upon me. Traitor.

I paused by the riverbank, bending to drink, no longer worried about the effects of cold water on my exhausted body. It was icy and refreshing and while the water did its part to rejuvenate my body, it only succeeded in further clouding my mind. Without the burn of thirst in my throat, I found my consciousness drifting almost aimlessly until my gaze landed on the rapid current again. The water tumbled over stone and earth along its way to the perilous tumble that would lead it further off into the distance, wearing the stone away with every beat.

Without thought, my hand plunged into the flow, coming to rest against the smoothness of a boulder, cold and damp but not entirely submerged. The currents diverged, splitting the path of the water around the obstacle, but at the same time wearing away layer after layer of stone. Eventually, the water would force its way over the boulder, having worn away at its base, leaving its strength and impenetrability ultimately eroded away. No strength could stand forever. Eventually, even the strongest of us all could be worn down into nothing. I wasn't sure if I was reassured by such a thought or further dismayed.

"Uchiha Itachi."

The voice came from behind, near the break in the trees where the valley began. I wonder how I must have appeared to them, crouched by the riverside lost in a world all my own, clothing filthy, covered now in not only the blood of my clan but the filth of a day's journey through the forests of the Fire Country; my hair in mild disarray, wisps of black floating free from the band at the base of my neck. I hardly looked the part of the heir to one of Konoha's most prestigious families. I hardly looked worthy to lick their boots.

I rose slowly, but maintained my focus on the rocks below in the river. Rocks that in a thousand years would no longer be there. But in a thousand years men would still speak of the destruction of Uchiha by one of its own, but only time would tell if men would speak of me with awe or with fear. So much depended on what happened now, today, with a trio of ANBU hunters at my back and the title of traitor and deserter ahead. Whatever happened, my name would be tarnished throughout the Fire Country, but that could be changed. I only had to survive.

I turned my gaze over my shoulder, already knowing what I would find there. The voice, I had recognized. His name was Takeshi and he had been the first man I had ever served under in ANBU, my captain before I became a captain. I wasn't surprised that he was the one to find me. No man in ANBU knew my mind better than Takeshi, which was why he had anticipated the direction of my flight and tracked me with such skill. I wanted very badly to offer the man a smile, but such a gesture would only be misunderstood. Instead, I only allowed them to see my eyes, already red and piercing. I wasn't sure if I had the strength to use Mangekyou, but I hoped I wouldn't need to. Defeating them would do me little good if I left myself near breaking when it was through.

As I expected, they were not eager to attack. As I said, Takeshi knew me well and also knew well the reasons I had risen to the rank of captain in only a few short months. Not to mention I was certain the orders had been to capture me alive. Well, if it came down such a road, I would not allow it. I had vowed already that I would not set foot in Konohagakure again unless it was of my own choice.

"Itachi-taichou." Takeshi took a step forward, signaling the accompanying men to hold position. By their masks I identified them immediately. Wataru and Reiji. Both men who had served under me for a time; the perfect additions to a team created solely to track my escape. It was strategic both due to their knowledge of my skills and our emotional connection. Somehow they hoped that our friendship would give me pause. I was sad to realize it would not.

"I'm not a captain any longer. You shouldn't call me such. Sandaime would string you up and label you a traitor." I did smile then, allowing a hint of dark humor to appear in my eyes. They knew the truth of my words, which was why they took such quick offense. I could see clearly those subtle signs. Wataru's grip tightened fiercely around the hilt of his kunai; Reiji's right leg shifted, grinding a shallow crater in the dirt beneath his feet. Only Takeshi remained impassive and I could only imagine his expression behind the blankness of his mask. I liked to imagine he understood, but I realize it was little more than wishful thinking.

He took another step forward, a bold action to which I offered no reaction. "Itachi-kun," he amended. "We've come to bring you back. I would ask you to come with us quietly, but I know you won't. I have no reason to expect you would walk home to be executed. However, I hope you would consider it an honorable alternative to treason."

"You don't really believe what you're saying, do you, Takeshi-sempai?" I was on the verge of laughter now as I turned finally to face him, my back to the rushing river and the opposite bank that marked the border of the Fire Country and my freedom.

As I turned, I could see the three of them shift as if part of the same body, a well oiled unit operating in conjunction with one another without even a thought. That was the essence of being ANBU; skill beyond only physical skill. The ability to be a hunter was tied just as strongly to intuition as to strength. However, it was I, not my former companions, who first detected the sense that not all was right.

As things so often seem through the gaze of Sharingan, the world moved as if in slow motion. Mere seconds stretched into an eternity. Takeshi moved first, lithe form dropping into an immediate crouch, gaze shifting past my form and over my shoulder. Wataru moved next, a fraction of a second behind Takeshi, sliding to the side with agility rarely matched by even the best of ANBU. At first, for the barest moment, I assumed they moved in anticipation of an attack from me, but when I felt the faint brush of air against my cheeks and my eyes detected the nearly invisible blurs skirting my head and torso, I realized they moved in reaction to this. Poisoned needles launched with pinpoint accuracy. Needles that struck poor Reiji as if he were little more than a target dummy of straw and burlap.

The other ANBU were forgotten and even I turned quickly, betraying my surprise far too easily to the two figures standing upon the opposite bank. Two figures, but only one appeared human. He was tall and I ventured to guess he was slender, but his form was masked almost entirely in a coat of black; black interspersed with red clouds. His face was masked just as efficiently beneath the shadowed brim of a bamboo kasa. At his side, the second figure seemed bent in a permanent crouch, but closer examination identified his stance not as a crouch, but a natural posture brought about by the shape of his body, which resembled, if anything, a large scorpion shrouded in human attire.

The first of the two spoke and his smile was practically audible. "Forgive the intrusion, but Itachi-kun will be coming with us."