~Prologue~

"It's not us versus them!"

Mikoto took a deep breath to calm herself; the last thing she wanted was her children to hear them arguing. She reached for a plate, hands diving into the soapy water to scrub at it. "I wish you wouldn't say things like that."

"But it is!" He slammed down the sword hilt he had been working on. "It's exactly that. I know you don't want to believe it, but it's high time you got your head on straight!"

Mikoto rinsed the plate; the water was warm to the touch. "Kushina was my friend," Mikoto murmured as she set the plate aside. She turned to face her husband, hands dripping. "And lower your voice. You'll wake the babies."

Fugaku snorted, fingers still curled around the hilt. "They're hardly-" his words died as Mikoto glowered at him. "Yes, honey."

A heavy silence settled over the two, one that Mikoto didn't like. She had heard the rumors well enough. She knew of the side glances others gave the Uchiha Clan as they passed by on the streets. They'd let the demon rampage through the village, people would whisper. They're the reason I don't have a brother, a sister, a husband, a wife, a child, a-

"Mikoto."

Fugaku rose from his seat, the chair lightly scraping against the floor. Her husband was a massive man; broad shouldered and tanned, clothes straining against his muscles. It always surprised Mikoto how Fugaku moved- a fluid grace, so odd for a man of his size. "Mikoto," Fugaku whispered, reaching for her. His hand was hot to the touch, thumb brushing over her knuckles. "I'm sorry. It's just," he sighed. "The rumors are getting worse."

"They're just rumors, Fugaku."

He gently squeezed her hand. "They're barbs, Mikoto. Barbs that can be deadly. And I won't have them harm my family."

Mikoto leaned against him, wrapping her arms around him. She could hear his heartbeat; a steady rhythm, one that she'd memorized from long sleepless nights and being held in his arms just like this. His smell- sandalwood, so comforting. "No one is going to hurt our family, Fugaku," she whispered, desperately wanting to believe it. "There's nothing to fear."

Fugaku let her go, his lips pressed into a thin line. "You're right. Because I've spoken to other Uchiha and-"

Boom!

Her scream was swallowed by the flash: a momentary flash of bright light, ears ringing, a heavy weight throwing itself onto her. Thick arms were curled around her and Mikoto gasped as her world came too. Fire danced before her- yellow merging into orange, tinges of blue that licked at her dinner table, that danced along her floor and jumped to the walls. "Fugaku," Mikoto coughed as she felt those protective arms loosen. "Fugaku! Fugaku, get off!"

"Mom!"

Sasuke! Mikoto's heart leaped into her throat. "Get off," she screamed, slamming her fists against her husband's chest. "Get off! Get off!"

Fugaku was moving but not quickly enough; he was too slow, too off balance and Mikoto had no time for this. She practically wiggled out from beneath Fugaku's weight, catching a glimpse of bright red smeared against his head. Hands scrambled for a weapon- there! A cutting knife on the floor, near the fire. How it had not struck her, Mikoto didn't know. And right now, she didn't care!

She stumbled over herself, her equilibrium off. Smoke was beginning to fill the air, her legs feeling numb, body aching as she rounded the corner. She had to go to her babies' room. She had to go her babies. Her babies needed her.

"Mommy," Sasuke screamed.

"M-Mommy's coming," Mikoto wheezed. A shadow flittered at the end of the hallway and her steps quickened. Scratched hands were running along the wall, a desperate attempt to see through the blackening smoke. Mikoto held her sleeve to her face, eyes watering as she made it to her children's door.

"Mikoto! We have to go!"

Not without my children!

Had she said those words? Mikoto didn't know. She only knew Itachi's form; her older son practically hunched under the bed. Her brain numbly noted the pool of crimson that was bleeding through his sleeping robe; dark red easing its way through the white. All she knew was that one of her babies was hurt. "Itachi! Are you alright," Mikoto gasped, rushing over to her son.

"I'm fine," he snapped. "Sasuke! Come out!"

Sasuke! Mikoto crouched as low as she could to catch a glimpse of her younger son. He was pressed against the wall, face pale, hands clasped over his eyes. "H-Honey, come out! Please!"

"He won't move!"

"Mikoto, run!"

Fugaku's voice! Mikoto could hear steel clash against steel, her home groaning as the fire gnawed its way to them. She looked at Itachi- he was trying to fit himself under but she could see the fear etched on his face. Every frantic grab he made only caused Sasuke to scream and scoot back. We're going to die.

The thought entered her mind- morbid, combined with the image of their charred corpses huddled by this bed, hands outstretched to her baby. They were going to di- No. Mikoto could die. Mikoto would die a thousand deaths before she let anything happen to her children.

"Sasuke honey," Mikoto said, doing her best to stay calm. "Everything's ok." She held out her hand, noting how shaky it was. How reddened it was, the splinters that buried itself in her palm. "Everything's ok- just come to me."

"B-But-"

"Please honey. Just come to me."

Slowly- Gods how slowly Sasuke moved- he crept towards her. Mikoto snatched him up, clinging to his tiny body. "Itachi, I need you to take your brother and run!"

"What about you," Itachi snapped.

Fugaku's scream sent a shiver down her spine but it was Sasuke's trembling that made her move. She shoved him into Itachi's arms and tightened her hold on the cutting knife. It took only milliseconds before her world was bathed in crimson- the Sharingan had been released. "Don't worry about me. Just take your brother to the hokage."

"But-"

Mikoto smiled, doing her best not to cry. She could feel the moisture gathering at the corners of her eyes, tears that threatened to fall despite the overwhelming heat. "Don't worry silly goose," she cooed, knowing full well how Itachi hated that nickname. Itachi didn't give her a dirty look- he used to do that so much when he was younger. No, now he looked downright anxious as he held Sasuke to his chest. So Itachi knew. "Mom will be right behind you."

It was time to fight.

She leaped to her feet and spun around; the cutting knife slammed into a shinobi's chest with a solid thud. The man screamed as Mikoto yanked the thin blade out. It wasn't meant for stabbing; not a kunai which could be slipped into the sweet spot right between the ribs. But it was still a knife, and one she used to ram into the offender's throat. There was a moment of resistance, the point tearing through tender skin and the crimson overflowing. The other shinobi tried to talk, lips moving wordlessly, gurgling.

Mikoto kicked the corpse aside.

Four men, moving in her direction.

Fugaku laying motionless by the front door.

And Itachi and Sasuke were nowhere in the house.

"Please be safe," she whispered as her next opponent entered the room. Please.