A series of letters for my brother

By Uchiha Itachi

'*Preface*'

Sasuke,

I have just seen you for the first time in almost six years, and never has a sight filled me with more hatred for myself than what I saw of your face yesterday. The eyes I'd thought of every day since I last took them in, bloodshot and wide with fear, were stronger than I can ever remember seeing them before, and hardened by all I have burdened you with throughout your life. The hate behind your glare struck me with greater force than any blow your Chidori could have dealt. You were so strong, so fast, so capable, but I could not bear to acknowledge any of that. I'd take the time to do so here, if I had any right to. I'd write just about you, for pages upon pages, if I had the privilege to do so; not as things are, when all that you've achieved in the past six years has not been for your own sake – but rather, for mine.

As you read this, the day I am speaking of, so clear in my mind I feel as though I'm still living it, has long since past, perhaps years and years ago. But I am positive that you'll remember it.

I am currently with Kisame, lodged within a cave on the outskirts of Tea country, about to return to a village that holds so many painful memories for both of us –his former home. And we have just left my own. Neither of us has been to place where we came from in what feels like a lifetime, and in many ways it has been.

The two of us are in a remarkable position as partners, to have known each other before coming together to work for the same goal, but unfortunately such circumstances have rendered us incapable of fully disguising our thoughts. Each of us has witnessed first hand what the other has been through, observed fragments of the other's former life with their own eyes. But, putting the insecurities posed by having few secrets aside, I am thankful that he knows what little about my past that he does. Because in several ways you will discover later on, the circumstances of our origins were remarkably similar, and our shared experiences enable us to respect one another on a greater level than most partners can.

In fact, it was Kisame who suggested that I write to you. He says he does it sometimes, for the people he has left behind, to whom there is so much he can never say. But, I'm sure he doesn't realize I intend for you to actually read this someday.

I can no longer take pride in anything I do, but if there is any solace for me to take from life, I find it in my ability to stay strong despite all I have done to those I love most, to honor them. What sort of man would I be, if after taking life away from nearly every human being who cared for me, I then could not live with my actions? It would disgrace their legacy to squander the life I only now enjoy because I ended theirs. But after feeling the full force of your loathing for me yesterday, which blazes at an echelon I have never observed before in anyone else, I can no longer allow these memories to fester within me, unacknowledged and repressed. If I tried, I would not last another day.

My crippling guilt, this awful weakness, is what has propelled me to take the measures I now am. This move I'm making was not preconceived, and for that anxiety has wrapped its firm grip around my throat. But with a stroke of sudden foresight, I have realized that there has been an intrinsic flaw to my plan since the moment I formed it. Always, my intention was to fill you with such hatred for me that you would make it your goal to end my life at all costs – but after observing your state of mind yesterday, seeing what that hatred has made you become… I see how foolish I was, not to predict this deterioration of your self. But I planted the seed within you, encouraged it to germinate, and yesterday I only hastened its growing process – at this point, stopping it would be an impossible task. Hatred's roots have latched so strongly to your bones, that no amount of force could free you; its poison has diffused so evenly through your blood, that the greatest healer could not purify your veins. The only chance I have to correct my grave mistake is to wait till your hatred has served its purpose, met its goal (of killing me) and lost its sense of direction, and then cauterize it there, prevent it from remolding itself.

So now I will tell you the truth – about the massacre, about Konoha, about the clan, about me, about how I feel for you – although I am certain that you won't believe me. But still I pray that by grasping the truth, you will be enabled to accept your life for what it is, recognize the cosmic necessity of all that occurred and affected you, and be freed from the prison of confusion and ignorance that the world threw you into for its own benefit.

As I sit here now, I find myself distracted by the undeniable reality – that we will meet again only once more, at a date I have no power to predict, and on that day you will finally exact your revenge. It is so unnerving to think that when you finally do read this, that day will have already passed – and I will have as well. Through these pages, I speak to you from beyond death, and that is a realization so surreal and of such magnitude that I can't help but feel overwhelmed. It is imperative that I accomplish with these words exactly what I have set out to, since this is my only chance to do so. So very much depends on how I convey this information, and upon how you react to it. Every connotation, every nuance I depict will be massively significant, and must stand up to the most extensive scrutiny. Everything I have done, every sacrifice I have made, every moment of my life that I have put into this plan for the past six years will be either vindicated or made waste of by the words I choose, and the pressure of that responsibility is more crushing than any dread or confliction that has ever daunted me.

But, it also gives me strength. While willingly forcing myself into nonexistence is a grueling venture, it is a necessary measure if you are to ever live a meaningful life. Yours is the only chance either of us has at happiness, and the circumstances of our collective situation have made attaining that impossible without first fighting through a mire of tragedy. As I shall make clear to you, this is the fundamental reason why I had to… take such drastic measures all those years ago. Had it not been me… it would have been someone else, and both of us would have been dead. Believe it or not, the present scenario was the lesser of many unthinkable options presented to me that were far worse. But, my point is, while I do not long for death, having you end my life was and is the final step in the long-term plan for your success I constructed when I was thirteen years old. Anticipating the moment when all will coalesce, and this great and awful odyssey that life has thrust us into will end is the only means I have to feel some semblance of inner peace.

Since I am writing this story with the intention of you reading it after my death, I will address you as though it has already occurred.

Now that I am gone, you have no more need for hatred. Your mission is complete, and so is mine, but with this pen I will bring it to a definitive close. All the answers that you've sought, and to the questions you have not considered, you will find here. For there are so many secrets I have yet to share with you, and I promise that every word you have read here and will is the absolute truth. You deserve to know why your life was so disrupted, and since now that by killing me you have regained the opportunity to resume it (I hope), you can learn the true nature of your reality. It is my intention to relieve you now of whatever residual guilt or confliction you feel about the whole ordeal of your life, so that you may begin it anew, free of all your previous burdens.

Years ago, on the last night I was in our village, I told you that the truth about the Sharingan was written beneath Naka shrine. And it is. But you have new eyes now, and the same truths you learned then do not apply to your current position. If you are reading this in the spot you found it, you have not far to look, because the ancient tablet of our ancestors should be right above your head. Look at their words now with your newly heightened vision, and more secrets will be revealed to you, secrets that bear an amalgam of significances.

I never attained the Eternal Mangekyou, nor did I ever intend to, but in consequence I never learned the extent of our family's power. But power never interested me beyond the necessity of attaining it to survive – that admission should confuse you, but all will make sense in time. But, by that what I truly meant was that I was never able to read the most important lines on that stone, visible only to those who possess the clearest vision. You see, the ancestors wrote down the secrets of the Sharingan in such a way that as your skill with them increases your understanding of their power will as well. The final layers of words, which I have never read, were written by none other than Madara himself, the only Uchiha to ever wield the eye that never fades.

Many tried, during his time, to duplicate whatever conditions were present when Madara exchanged his eyes for his brother's, thus curing himself of the ailments caused by the Mangekyou forever. All of them failed. But I believe I may have discovered the key to activating its power. The great difference between Izuna and all the other Uchiha who were sacrificed for the sake of their siblings' self-advancement was this: he had been willing to hand his eyes over to his brother. He sincerely believed, for whatever reason, that it was necessary for the sake of the clan, and for Madara (who would have died were it not for him), that he give up his eyes, and as some result his life (the transplantation process is only successful if the victim dies and the receiver blames himself for their death, so Izuna's decease must have somehow been a direct or indirect result of it.)

I must tell you now that the price paid for gaining the initial Mangekyou is a heavy one. Our sightless ancestors were foolish enough to think that killing the one you love most is enough of a trade for greater vision, but no. Any human being capable of killing their best friend, their lover, their child, their sibling, is no human being at all. The real sacrifice – the punishment – is what comes after.

The Mangekyou draw their power not from your chakra reserves, but from your soul itself. As you use the eyes, not only do they gradually seal their own power away, but they also drain the very life from your body. The debilitating illness that is slowly drowning me in my own blood, and has been for four years now, is an immediate consequence of using the eyes with mindless indulgence. I'm not sure how this condition manifests itself, but history has shown that degenerative disease is an almost unavoidable effect of using the Mangekyou Sharingan, especially if one utilizes their power without immoderation. I theorize that by draining the life-energy of their wielder, the Mangekyou somehow deplete the strength of their master's immune system, making them more susceptible to illness. Madara was afflicted by a similar plague – a wretched, agonizing condition, in which his intestines slowly digested themselves. The moment he attained the eternal Mangekyou, he claims that the damage he received from his disease immediately reversed itself, as did his blindness. It is my personal theory that what you experience afterward depends on the circumstances under which you attain the Mangekyou – this would explain why Hatake Kakashi, who merely watched his best friend slowly die by another's actions and shouldered the blame upon himself, is beset by nothing at all (unless you consider his chronic fatigue a symptom, which I attribute merely to the chakra strain brought on by it's alien presence within his body, and having it activated constantly).

But you, most likely, will not be so lucky. If my disease does not take me first – a scenario which I will prevent at all costs to myself – then you will be the one to take my life. And when that time comes, it is likely that determining the exact cause of my death will be difficult anyway. There is no room for mistakes. You must – you must – take my eyes. I will not have you suffer any further as a result of my actions. Even if you know that I have succumbed to my illness, take them anyway. So far as I know, the only price of gaining the eternal Mangekyou is natural immortality – the only way to die is by having your life taken by another. Hardly sounds like a punishment, but hear this – when all of those you know and love age, whither and pass, and you are left with none but yourself and a survivor's guilt, that is the worst pain a person can feel.

I can not risk explaining this to you outright, but there is one last thing that you must do (a task which I will encrypt within the tale that follows) and you will need all the power you can possibly attain to accomplish it. My eyes will give you what you need, and the messages I inscribe for you here will show you how to use it.

We are a cursed people, the Uchiha clan – not by some ancient spell or malignant jutsu, but by our own doing. Our incurable hatred and arrogance, our insatiable lust for power, influence, recognition and revenge, and most of all, our blindness – these are the things that led the Uchiha to their end. I know that all of your life you have worked and fought and nearly died to defend their honor – but now that, by ending me, you have been relieved of the burden of their deaths, you must learn that by the time the end came there was no honor left to defend.

What I tell you in the pages that follow will enable you to see what your family and your ancestors never could. I relay to you here the wisdom of a man who has shouldered the weight of a thousand souls, and pray that you will heed it with an open mind.

I confess that everything I ever said to you since the moment you were born, other than that I love you, was a lie. But here, untainted, unrestrained and unabridged, is the truth.

Earnestly and always your brother,

Uchiha Itachi