Update: WOW I basically typed this fic at the speed of light last night without going back and giving it a thorough read, resulting in a terribly written, if not grammatically incorrect fanfiction. I've improved the wording so that it's not so jarring and awkwardly constructed. Sorry to all the people who had to read the unpolished version!
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I wrote a Mikoto Kushina fanfic earlier, and one of the commenters told me that Mikoto was actually a jounin level shinobi, which fascinated me (since I had always thought of her, and depicted her as a civilian).
And thus began my small side project from Burdened and Beleaguered, which I enjoyed immensely.
Mikoto is seriously underdeveloped in the canon, and I had a lovely time envisioning her as a graceful, ballerina-esque kunoichi, who is also terrifyingly vicious. (:
Also, Tobi tells Sasuke that Itachi was traumatized during the Third Shinobi War, and I wanted to include that, somehow. Poor Itachi. Somebody just needs to give the guy a hug. And some TB medication.
Uchiha Mikoto leaps into the air.
Her graceful backflip throws her far from the arsenal of kunai that pierces the soil where she had stood just moments before. Concentrate, Mikoto, she chides herself.
Her Sharingan flashes and spins; three immediately drop unconscious from the mesmerizing spell of her genjutsu, but the fourth is not so easily deterred. His sword flashes through the air as he takes vicious swipes at Mikoto, all the while avoiding the hypnotic gaze of her blood-red eyes.
Mikoto dances backwards, avoiding the poison-coated blade. The Suna-nin aims a blow at her stomach, but she parries with a flick of her kunai. A smirk rises to her lips as she watches his slow reflexes, so readable, so predictable, under her Sharingan that it is almost effortless to dodge. Don't get over-confident with yourself now. Breath bated, she watches her enemy tense and spring.
He swoops forward and slashes the sword towards her neck.
Mikoto twists her body and dodges underneath the white metal of the blade, ink black hair streaming out behind her. As the enemy shinobi completes the arc of the swing, she seizes her chance and sashays behind him. Her hands form the deadly seals.
"Katon: Goukakyuu No Jutsu!" A powerful gush of searing red flames engulfs the shinobi from behind, and he screams, a terrible, drawn-out shriek that is rapidly lost in the midst of the blistering inferno.
Mikoto sustains the jutsu for several seconds more before she flashsteps away to engage another team of enemy shinobi.
Behind her, the burned and mutilated corpse crumbles to the ground, still expelling a livid smoke.
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The sun drops low into the sky and the sky is tinged a forlorn, bloody red. The once-lush forests surrounding Konoha are littered with mangled corpses and pockets of empty terrain, where devastating jutsus have blasted the land into oblivion.
Mikoto grimaces at the sight.
She darts through the branches, silent as a spectre, when she spies his familiar flak jacket, his dove grey hair.
Her heart flutters and she pounces forward.
"Fugaku!" Mikoto sobs, slamming into her husband's dirty, bloodstained vest. "Fugaku, I was so afraid you were—"
His strong arms encircle her waist and she presses herself against him, eyes squeezed shut, words dying in her throat. His familiar, musky scent, so domestic, so out of place within this war-torn forest, envelopes her in reassuring waves as Fugaku tightens his grip on his wife.
"Mikoto," Fugaku's voice is muffled in the strands of her hair. "I was worried about you too."
And time fell away from the planes of existence, as they sought the temporary peace of each other's arms.
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Night dawns on the battlefield.
One by one, tired, battle-weary shinobi filter through the heavily fortified gates and into the village. Eyes downcast, feet dragging. No sentiment of victory permeates the air, only that quite fatigue of the weary seeking sleep. It could be felt in the hunched shoulders and listless silence, in the expressionless faces and empty eyes.
Fugaku and Mikoto trudge in unison with the exhausted crowd.
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They make their way to the Naka shrine and duck under the floorboards of the seventh tatami mat. The secret Uchiha meeting place has been transformed into a temporary refuge for Uchiha children, while their parents fought above-ground in the war.
In the dim lighting of the meeting room, Mikoto scans the room, full of children, for Itachi, and finally spying his small form. He is hunched in the corner, next to his cousin Shisui, who has tobbled over and fallen asleep on the dirt floor, drool trailing slowly, one protective arm slung over Itachi's shoulders.
She races over and comes to a standstill in front of her child.
Her beloved, precious Itachi. The four year-old raises his soft black eyes up at her and it breaks Mikoto's heart to see the fear dominating his face as he brushes his cousin's heavy arm off his shoulders and flees towards her, wordlessly wrapping his thin arms around her legs.
Gently, Mikoto picks the boy up and Itachi promptly burrows himself in the depths of Mikoto's hair.
"Mother." Itachi's voice is muffled. "The bombs—they fell so close, I could feel the earth shaking." He gulped. "I thought—I thought you and Father weren't going to come back this time—" his breathing hitched.
"Shh shh," Mikoto croons into the boy's ear. She pats him gently on the back, listening to Itachi's breathing spike and then slowly calm. "Itachi, it'll be all right. Mommy will protect you, always, darling. Don't ever doubt that."
She dispels the Sharingan, allowing the world to become a haze of hushed color. Regardless, she turned her gaze on her son, snuggled in the depths of her hair, and smiles lovingly at the boy, drinking in the sight of him. Itachi's round cheeks, his long delicate eyelashes, his soft downy hair.
She has fought and hacked her way through nameless shinobi throughout the day for this moment, to hold Itachi close to her, to be reunited with her son. And despite the ache in her arms from her excessive use of taijutsu and kunai-throwing, Itachi is feather-light, weightless.
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She gently sets Itachi down in his bed. The boy has long since fallen asleep; his long eyelashes quiver faintly from some far away dream. She pulls his blankets over him and before leaving, plants one small kiss on his soft, rotund cheeks.
She retreats to her bedroom and settles down next to Fugaku in the wide, ornate bed.
Her hair, still wet and smelling of roses and strawberries, is the last thing she remembers before drifting off into the oblivion of sleep.
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Much too soon, Mikoto wakes. Immediately, on reflex, her Sharingan activates, and she grasps a kunai tightly in her palm. Beside, Fugaku is already moving. He leaps out of bed and throws on his jounin vest.
"From the sound of it, they've infiltrated the village! The Suna bastards!" Fugaku snarls, his Sharingan spinning menacingly in the dark.
Mikoto can hear the battle too, and to her horror, the clashing sounds of kunai meeting kunai, the screams of the fallen, and the sinister clacking of the damned puppets the Suna shinobi were so adept at employing, sounded much too close to the mansion to be of comfort.
"Itachi," she gasped.
Fugaku yells, "Go check on him, I need to—"
The rest of his words are suddenly cut off when an exploding tag detonates the roof.
Splintering wood comes crashing down on Mikoto, but she pirouettes her way out from underneath, leaping into the air, turning, twisting, and landing squarely on the balls of her feet, her momentum sending her skidding into the hallway, hair billowing in her face.
"Fugaku!" she shrieks. "Fugaku! Are you—"
"Go! Go to Itachi! They're coming Mikoto! They're coming! I'll hold them off!"
"No, Fugaku!" Mikoto screams back into the rubble. The thought of Fugaku taking on an army of shinobi by himself…
"There's no time, Mikoto! THERE'S NO TIME. Now do as I say!" Already, she could see the blaze of a Katon emitting from Fugaku's side of the wreckage, and with one last, fearful glance, she ripped her gaze away from the destroyed bedroom and flees down the hallway. With her Sharingan, she sees another exploding tag and soars out of the way. The hallway explodes in a fiery blast, deafening her ears and blowing white-hot smoke into her face. Mikoto coughs and squints, her tomoe spinning. Through the dust, she sees figures advancing into the mansion.
Six. Seven. Eight.
She readies herself and then forms the seals. A continuous stream of fire issues from her lips, and she hears screams of pain as the flames engulf several of the shinobi, though not all, and three move their hands to form seals in retaliation.
A wind scythe nearly beheads her, but she dodges the technique and emits another Katon. Immediately, Mikoto flashsteps, landing lightly behind one of the Suna shinobi. Before he has time to turn around and land a blow, she straightens up and sinks the kunai she held, hilt and all, with full force, into the assailant's neck. Blood squirts in a deadly divulge of red. It splatters onto Mikoto's face as his limbs flail and jerk uselessly before submitting to death.
By then Mikoto is already forming seals. Her Kage Bushin leaps into the air and the other two shinobi turn their attention towards it while Mikoto maneuvers behind.
"Kuchiyose no Jutsu!" She takes the summoned fuma shuriken and hurls it with all her strength, immediately cutting down one of the remaining two shinobi. The last turns her attention towards Mikoto in the corner, but immediately crumbles to the ground under the Sharingan's genjutsu.
Mikoto crouches on the ground, muscles tensed. The ground trembles beneath her, and the tomoe of her narrowed eyes spin wildly. She immediately inspects one of the fallen shinobi's sidepacks, finding multiple kunai, exploding tags, and wires inside. Straightening up, she buckles the pack to her side just as a child's scream pierces through the smoke.
Mikoto's blood ices over. "Itachi!" she screeches and pelts full force towards his bedroom.
She barrows through the thin rice paper door. Itachi is crouched in the corner of his bed, kunai at the ready, face wild with terror, as a snarling puppet with poisoned knives advances towards him, clacking manically. One knife lunges forward to pierce Itachi's cheek when Mikoto's Katon incinerates the puppet; she follows the chakra strings towards the hidden Suna shinobi, who immediately hurls a wind scythe at her. Mikoto leaps, and sends a barrage of kunai at the Suna nin, who side steps them, only to realize too late that he had activated the exploding tag Mikoto had planted when his attention was diverted.
Mikoto tackles Itachi towards the ground as the room disintegrates.
She wraps him securely in her arms and pins the boy under her, as the fiery blaze burns her shoulders and back, and the roof crumbles in around them. A terrible tearing sound rips through the air as the wooden beams fall inward. Mikoto glances up, Sharingan spinning. As a large beam crashes down towards them, she flashsteps up and out, breaking through the rubble, tearing her nightgown, all the while tightly clasping Itachi.
She lands in the midst of the dark Uchiha compound, almost totally disfigured in the midst of the battle. The fire techniques of the Uchiha rendered the night sky and ominous red, and several buildings had already been set ablaze by exploding tags. All around, dark shadows clashed, kunai glinting in the dark, and several bodies lay motionless on the ground, pouring blood. Itachi whimpers at the sight of the mutilated corpses, and Mikoto hugs him tightly.
She is about to take flight again when she senses a presence behind her, and sees the spinning chakra with the peripheral view of the Sharingan. The Jutsu slams into her back, winding her completely and tossing her into the air. She crumbles back to the ground, losing Itachi, and slamming to a halt, lungs heaving. A burly Sand nin towers over her, leering at her. Reaching down, he painfully grasps her by her hair and forces her into an awkward kneeling position. Mikoto gasps in pain and tries to concentrate, but the agony in her back is overwhelming and she can't summon the dredges of her chakra for a genjutsu.
"What a pretty little kunoichi we have here," the enemy shinobi purred. "My, my it sure is a shame to have to slaughter you, you worthless bitch."
"Mother!" Itachi screams from several feet away.
Mikoto snarls at the shinobi. He laughs and lands a kick in Mikoto's stomach, sending her world reeling as she coughs up blood.
Itachi's screams echo in her ears, but she cannot force her leadened limbs to react. Still hacking up blood, she could feel her Sharingan spinning in anguish.
"Fucking twerp!" the Sand shinobi suddenly yells, releasing Mikoto's hair. She pitches forward onto the ground and crumbles. Through a blurry haze, she sees the burly Sand nin reach and pull out a bloody kunai from his side. He backhands Itachi, who is sent flying and tumbles several feet away. Itachi struggles to rise, and the Sand nin is upon him, aiming a kick at the boy.
The sight of her Itachi bleeding, shoots through Mikoto like a stimulant and she streaks through the air like a bullet and, drawing a kunai, Sharingan flashing a deadly genjutsu, begins to viciously and mercilessly carve and stab the Sand nin's face and throat.
He crumbles, eyes gouged, mouth forcibly augmented by slashes opening up his cheeks, nose hacked away, and throat gushing blood.
The large body hits the ground with a deadened thud and moves no more.
Drained and bleeding, Mikoto sinks into a crouch, having exhausted the last of her chakra to disable to sand nin with her genjutsu. She grips the kunai tighter and assumes a protective stance in front of Itachi, teeth bared, daring other nin to come her way.
"Mother?"
Mikoto turns at the sound of Itachi's soft voice. She glances down at the boy, only to find him staring up at her, absolutely terrified.
Her heart crumbles at the sight of her own son, her beloved Itachi, staring at her as if she were a monster, as if she were one of the enemy Sand nin attacking Konoha. Slowly, her Sharingan whirls and dies, as she reaches down to pick the boy up again.
"Itachi—"
The world explodes in a flash of white.
Distant roaring, intense agony. And then Mikoto knew no more.
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She awakens inside the Konoha hospital.
Her eyes open slowly and she takes in the starched white room, clean linen sheets, and a vase of sunflowers, honeyed yellow petals turned towards the early morning light of the window. Her head feels rather heavy, and Mikoto reaches up to find a turban of bandages swathing her forehead.
A nurse enters the room, and Mikoto immediately tenses, activating the Sharingan. But even without her heightened sight, she can see that the nurse is a familiar face, one of the blonde, blue-eyed Yamanakas she remembers from her doctor's appointments when she had been pregnant with Itachi.
Itachi.
"Good, I see you are awake," the nurse smiles. "Would you care for some breakfa—"
"Where is Itachi?" Mikoto immediately demands, heart racing. He r Sharingan whirls wildly in her agitation. "Did you find him too? Is he all right?" She struggles to sit up and immediately yelps in pain; her back has sustained the worst damage from the battle. Gritting her teeth, she slides her body higher and then slumps back on the pillows. She breathes deep, heavy breaths to steady herself.
The nurse immediately darts forward to assuage her. "Shh, he is waiting just outside in the hall for you. He was ever such a good boy, never crying throughout the whole ordeal. If you would like, I can bring him inside now."
Mikoto nods fervently.
The nurse smiles again and departs the room, only to return moments later with Itachi in tow.
One look at Itachi's face was enough for Mikoto to know that she had lost all vestiges of the innocent, carefree child within her son. He has the wide, docile-eyed look of a lamb that had seen the scythe of his execution, and Itachi's entire face has transformed into a thin, empty mask. Mikoto's eyes fill with tears.
He is only four years old. And children should not have such haunted, vacant eyes, the eyes of an ancient relic.
"Itachi, come here please, please come here Itachi," she raised one bandaged hand to beckon him over. Itachi takes one small step forward and then balks. The nurses ushers him forward, pushing him gently towards Mikoto, before leaving the room, closing the sliding door politely behind herself.
Mikoto takes Itachi's small, white hand, and then draws him close into a tight hug. His small body is stiff, unyielding. She rests her chin on his soft dark hair, tears dripping from her eyes.
"I'm so sorry you had to see me like that Itachi," she whispers, placing a hand on Itachi's chin, and lifting his face up. Itachi's eyes gaze back expressionlessly, deadened. Mikoto is devastated.
He is only four years old.
"Itachi, please speak to me, my son," she gently begs. The sunflowers perch in the vase, basking in sunlight.
Itachi only stares at Mikoto's face blankly, before averting his eyes and gazing out at the sound-streaked window.
His silence would last for two months.
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Mikoto later finds out that the Uchiha compound was one of the most heavily targeted sectors of Konoha. Sunakagure had hoped to decimate the Uchiha clan to prevent the devastatingly effective Sharingan from making another appearance in the battlefield to tip the tide of the war in Konoha's favor. Sand Shinobi had been ordered to exterminate as many Uchiha as they could, and hopefully extract a few Sharingan in the process.
Mikoto still has no idea what Itachi had seen that night after she lost consciousness.
But she can imagine, after being discharged from the hospital and limping back into the compound to see the bloodstained ground, smoking craters, and oozing corpses, what it must have been like.
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Itachi is in the garden, practicing his shurikenjutsu. Mikoto watches from underneath the shadowy eaves of the mansion. Already, Itachi has the devastating aura of a prodigy. Each shuriken finds its way to the center of the target, never erring in the boy's sure fingers.
She steals soundlessly behind him and lightly rests her hand on his shoulder.
Itachi pivots sharply, shuriken poised to fly. Mikoto pretends not to notice his battle stance, though she swallows a lump in her throat before speaking.
"Dinner, Itachi." Mikoto smiles and gently removes the shuriken from his small white hands. The hands of a child. "Go inside and wash up. You will have plenty of time to practice afterwards."
Itachi nods briefly and walks towards the mansion, spine straight, shoulders stiff. Mikoto watches his retreating figure and sighs in sadness.
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Itachi meets Uchiha Sasuke when he is six years old. Mikoto gently hands the infant swaddled in blankets over to Itachi, who immediately tucks Sasuke protectively into his small arms. He smiles down at the bundle. It is the first genuine smile Mikoto has seen on Itachi's face in a long, long time.
"Hello Sasuke, my name is Itachi, and I'm your older brother," he says. Baby Sasuke stirred weakly but otherwise gave no indication of hearing his aniki's words. Itachi's next words hit Mikoto hard, and though she tries not to show it, tears well up in her eyes.
"I will protect you, Sasuke. So that you will never have to see what war is." Itachi smiles down at the bundle and rocks Sasuke gently from side to side.
Well, what do you think? Reviews, please and thank you!
Much love.