Disclaimer: I have no ownership over Naruto or its characters.
Chapter One – The Message
It was a desolate place and it reminded Shikamaru why he hated being a shinobi at times. War had scarred this land. His quick eyes noted the lack of vegetation, and all signs that it would not appear for years to come. He shook his head; no deer would be visiting these areas anytime soon. Standing up from his squatting position, he stretched out one leg after the other, grumbling inwardly when a sharp click jolted his right knee. That had started showing up after a particularly grueling mission that had landed him in the hospital with a broken leg. Most shinobi would have scoffed that off and tried to get out of the hospital as soon as possible.
Not Shikamaru though. He saw that as an opportunity. No need to fight or work—all he had to do was stare out a window at the ever-moving and ever-changing clouds till a nurse finally caught onto his lazy nature. The one downside was the food of course. Try how they may, hospital food never tasted good. There was always a slight sterilized taste that made his mouth twitch down, made him wonder if he was going to end up staying in the hospital a little longer because of food poisoning.
He'd never voice these suspicions aloud though, at least not in the hospital where cranky nurses could make his life miserable if they took offense to his tone. And he was strangely good at irritating them. Maybe it was because they had never met a ninja quite like him—lazy but intelligent, complaining but never about important things, and to top it off, he had quite a reputation for getting out of any duty they tried to place on him.
Of course that was a lie; he still didn't know who had started that rumor, but if anything he had been saddled with even more work. Sometimes it felt like he was doing enough for half the jounin around, those smug jerks who kept grinning at him when he got another summons from the Hokage. And besides...if he was so good at getting out of things, why was he assigned to this mission of all missions?
Troublesome. It was all so troublesome. He had known from the beginning when it was Sakura of all people with summons from Tsunade. Sakura! And just as he had suspected, they wanted to assign him the most ridiculous mission possible.
They wanted him to find the whereabouts of Uchiha Sasuke's (traitor of Konoha) and Uchiha Itachi's (even more troublesome traitor of Konoha) final battlegrounds. They had heard the news of Itachi's defeat, but not about what happened to the body, or if there were some hidden secrets within the place that the brothers had chosen to make the last stand. Others had been working hard to find the area, but with no luck.
Uchiha Itachi had always been secretive, and to find his base was...well, it would require someone with just as quick of a mind. Why they had chosen Shikamaru was both obvious and insane. Certainly, even he would admit that he had a high IQ and that everyone in Konoha still remembered his farce of a fight against Temari during the Chuunin Exams. People needed something to talk about, and many had decided to latch onto that particular fight, marveling at his intelligence yet his willingness to back down when necessary. If anything, that had been even more troublesome because people had started looking at him with respect—as if he were an adult. And the second irritating part was that the constant talking about that fight seemed to have affected Temari as well. Suddenly she was the ambassador of the Sand, and she was always badgering him, following him around and make snide remarks. He wasn't sure if she was embarrassed about how everyone knew about the fight or if she was amused by it. Women. You just couldn't tell.
Speaking of women... He glanced over at his companion who was directing the genjutsu specialists towards areas to search. Sakura had been assigned as his second-in-command. Unsurprising since she was a good medic nin and greatly trusted by the Hokage. Still, she was just one more woman he didn't get. Sometimes he'd open his mouth to complain to her, the way he did was his regular team, but then she'd look at him and something in her face made him cough instead and say nothing. It was uncomfortable—it was like she was too serious. This was her mission more than his; he didn't understand why he had to come along, since it was obviously Sakura who felt the strongest about this.
After all, Sasuke had been her teammate, not Shikamaru's. But as smart as Sakura was, she wasn't a genius. And to find a genius's hideout required another genius. He wished they hadn't called him in of all people though. He was perfectly content on his hill. They had found him, stuffed him into an office with all rumors and information they had on Itachi and his whereabouts, and told him to stay there until he had figured it out. It had taken him two months. A long time by his standards, but everyone else had acted impressed, since others before him had been on the case for years longer looking for Itachi's hideouts. This Sasuke fight was the thing that had pushed the Hokage to get a little more serious about it, especially with her apprentice and the potential next Hokage constantly standing up for the boy.
Personally, he didn't get it. He moved away from his position near Sakura, knowing she would direct everyone into the proper positions and procedures. He knew she wouldn't bother him; she wanted to do this on her own, and Shikamaru had bluntly told her that she could be in charge and he would stay out of her way and try to find clues. She had given him such a brilliant smile and rib-crushing hug that he had turned a bit red—both from the lack of breath and the fact that she had been pretty much up against him. That sort of devotion that Sakura and Naruto had for Sasuke was unnerving.
Blind was the term that most often came to mind for him. When those two saw Sasuke, all they saw was the young boy who shared ramen and shined with a Kami-given light of glory and strength. All Shikamaru saw was a traitor. A boy too weak to stand on his own and took the easy path to power. And Shikamaru was certain that the Uchiha would pay for it eventually. Everyone paid in the end. But those were his personal thoughts for him alone; if he had ever informed Sakura of his beliefs, she would deck him so hard that he would lose teeth—that was a fact, not an exaggeration. A building, carved out of the mountainside, loomed overhead. Clues would certainly be here.
A small part of him whispered that he would probably have that same devotion if Ino or Chouji had left the village. He dismissed the thought, reminding himself that those two would never abandon the village like that. That was a fact too. And as much as Shikamaru complained about his work and lack of free time, he knew he would stay with his village till his dying day. It was a loyalty that was engraved in his bones. Perhaps that was the true reason why he knew he disliked Sasuke greatly. To give away one's loyalty meant one never had loyalty in the first place.
The inside of the building was sparse without decoration. Unsurprising since Itachi didn't exactly have time to make his homes cozy. There were few signs of battle here, yet Shikamaru was certain that this was where the Sharingan standoff started. Physical fighting was not required when you had one of the most powerful bloodlines that required mental fortitude. Shikamaru had never actually faced the Sharingan, but he felt that though his mind was strong, he would probably fall before it just as quickly as any other shinobi—he was under no pretensions about his own strength.
His feet moved swiftly with little noise, yet on this floor he was almost startled when he heard his own footstep. Of course, leave it to an Uchiha to have a floor that purposely carried sound. Stepping even more carefully, Shikamaru rounded a corner and began walking down a long hallway, footsteps still louder than he'd like. To his surprise there were paintings lining the wall. He eyeballed them as he passed each one. He was no expert on art, but even he could tell these were probably very expensive—and beautiful.
He frowned. The bibliographies and psychological studies all pointed to the Uchiha having a magnificent mind but a tendency towards monastic settings. These were quite out of place—a luxury he would never have expected Itachi to have. Stepping even more carefully now, he stopped at the end where the paths branched out into three separate directions. What little light there had been was nonexistent here, being so far from the entrance, and Itachi obviously wasn't paying his electricity bills when this was a secret base.
But if there was one thing in the world Shikamaru felt confident in, it was the shadows. After all, he had spent his whole life learning how to master his own as well as others, understanding that darkness was not an enemy but an old friend. There was solace in the shadows, honesty that he could respect. Even if it seemed to hide everything from view, shadows did not alter anything—you just had to adjust to the different lighting. Letting his eyes adjust, he slipped into the darkness easily, lazy motions and pocketed hands suddenly smooth and subtle. A few moments of appearing as a blob in the darkness and then he seemed to meld with his surroundings.
The first path led to several large rooms, each with tall ceilings and soft, carpet floors so lush that he paused when his foot first sunk into the material. Each room was empty—at some time there may have been furniture or other items but not in a long time. As he walked away, he noticed the way the image of his footprints in the carpet stayed evident and would probably remain so for a few days. Definitely a long time if anything had been placed in here.
The second path was short and he almost didn't expect to suddenly find himself in one small room. It was empty of comforts, only a thin pallet and some halfway sharpened weapons that were neatly arranged on the ground. He scoffed. Even in death, Uchihas were ridiculously neat. A small bulb hung in the ceiling, glowing brightly even with its inhabitant dead for months. Shikamaru raised an eyebrow at this—perhaps Itachi did pay electric bills after all. There was a wooden closet door on the left; he cautiously opened it, ready for a trap, but it never came. Instead, all he found was clothing—just three pairs. Itachi really did live like some sort of monk.
His foot tapped against something and he paused, looking down. Unnoticed with all the weaponry laid about it, was a small teacup. It had a darkened red stain along its edge. Shikamaru squatted down and felt the rim. Dried blood. It flaked off easily at his touch. 'Itachi's last drink, I suppose,' he mused, lifting the cup. There was still some not-quite evaporated remains of the tea at the bottom—it must have been mostly full when Itachi had left it here.
He was about to set it back down, when he noticed something strange about the cup. There had been something strange about this whole building actually, and it had been nibbling at the back of his mind since he first stepped into the place. There was writing on the cup's side, and he blinked for a moment as he read it. Uchiha Sasuke. Tracing one finger through the motions of making up the name, he wondered if Itachi had taken this with him after murdering his clan. Maybe he had been more obsessed with the traitor than anyone had truly realized. 'Uchihas...they're all crazy.'
Once his finger stopped at the end of the name, he felt a sudden lurch and almost stumbled onto the pallet. He was caught by strong hands.
Shikamaru looked up with alarm, straight into the face of the supposedly dead Uchiha Itachi. "I-It-ta—!" he croaked out in alarm, voice not working properly. In all his plans and suspicions, he never had thought that he would run into this Uchiha. Had Sasuke not killed him after all? What had happened then?
Then the most amazing and shocking thing happened, freezing Shikamaru's thoughts completely. Uchiha Itachi smiled. It wasn't the most handsome or happy smile, but it was so content and so filled with love that the shadow-user was stunned. Was this...really Itachi? He had heard and learned so many things about the Uchiha in the past few months, but nothing had ever indicated that Itachi smiled. Ever.
"You're probably confused," Itachi murmured quietly, still looking incredibly relaxed for a murderer. Shikamaru's eyes went wider if that was possible as he quickly pulled away from the other shinobi. His guard was completely down! It went against everything he had ever read on this man. "It's not surprising."
"Are you really Itachi?" Shikamaru demanded, but there was no immediate response. It was unsettling, the way the man was staring at him, as if searching for something. "Are you Itachi? Sasuke killed you, didn't he? Or did you somehow escape that fate?" He couldn't believe his own audacity, questioning an Akatsuki member.
He opened his mouth to speak again when Itachi started talking.
"You're probably demanding answers as usual. That's always been your style hasn't it?" Were those words fond? "I'm sorry that things turned out the way they did...but I had no choice." A flicker of sadness on that normally expressionless face. "And I was hoping to tell you everything...now that I'm dead."
Shikamaru felt his throat go dry. Itachi was dead. Then was this some sort of...ghost? No, he quickly dismissed the idea from his mind—he never believe in that sort of thing, so why bring up superstition now? Something was still bothering him.
Itachi also seemed like he was mentally preparing himself for something...or that he just didn't know how to begin. He absently pushed back some of his bangs from his eyes, and then it hit Shikamaru in a flash. Itachi's eyes were a soft, dark brown! His Sharingan was missing, something Shikamaru had never expected to ever see in his lifetime. Without the red eyes, Itachi looked more like a regular man than a monster. He looked young but world-weary. And now that he was observing Itachi's features, he realized that they were too young; Itachi could have been his age. But that was impossible.
There was only one explanation for this, and the explanation sent his stomach plummeting. He was caught in a Genjutsu. One that Itachi had left behind? Then it wasn't him Itachi was talking to. The only person Itachi would want to talk to was—Itachi met his eyes again.
"Sasuke, if you're here now, then that means it is hopefully many years since our final battle. I pray you have found solace and now reside in Konoha, raising a family. And if Kami ever cared about us at all..." He barked out a bitter laugh. "If he ever cared, then I hope you have not met...a certain man. If you have, the Ametsuru I place in your eye has probably destroyed him. I apologize for using you again, little brother, but it was necessary."
He took in a deep breath. "It's time you knew the truth. Now that I am gone, and you are hopefully reestablished, I want you to listen to me. Listen to me closely and do not, no matter what I tell you, go seeking revenge again. It never suited you and that was never what I wanted for you." The smile on his face was incredibly gentle, and Shikamaru couldn't pull his eyes away from Itachi's. "I want you to live and be happy. And I am sorry to drag you back into this mess, but it is something only you can do."
"Sasuke, I never dreamed for a moment that I would be able to tell you the truth. But now I can." Long eyelashes brushed against his lower lids as he blinked before continuing. "There were two powerful clans that had once fought for leadership in Konoha. One was the clan of the First Hokage. The other was our own, the Uchiha Clan, led by one Uchiha Madara. He lost, and our clan was given the honor of policing the streets as compensation—a show of respect for such a powerful clan." There were some semblances of irony in his voice now. "Madara was not content though, and he swore revenge on Konoha, after a failed attempt at taking over. For years after, the Uchihas who did not flee with Madara were honored...but also feared. Over time, we became more of a mockery than a police force, with many people regarding us with suspicion."
Shikamaru had multiple questions running through his mind, but he knew now that Itachi could not hear him—he couldn't even see him.
"Justified suspicion, as it turned out that our clan turned to plots. We wanted to overthrow the current government and regain our honor. But they did not realize that they had a spy in their midst." His lips flicked up with irony. "Me. I reported what I knew to the Hokage, and eventually he and the elders chose to order me to assassinate my clan from the inside...and then leave, never to be found."
This couldn't be happening. What Itachi was saying—it couldn't be true. But Shikamaru knew a liar when he saw one, and Uchiha Itachi showed all signs of honesty.
"I agreed. My loyalty to Konoha was greater than my loyalty to my clan." Even though his voice remained relaxed and neutral, there was a slight flinch in his face, a pain in his eyes. No matter what he said now, Itachi still showed signs of conflict. "First I showed signs of potential madness, to give people a reason to blame the otherwise perfect Uchiha. It was a fate that people always expect for those considered genius." The sarcasm was deep, almost a laugh at himself. "And I killed them all. All except you." He paused and his face seemed to age with a deep sadness.
"I couldn't kill you, Sasuke. Not my little brother. I hadn't intended you to find me during my mission either, but when you showed up, I had to do something. So I made you think that I betrayed Konoha, so that one day you could be a hero of our clan, as the one loyal Uchiha."
The Nara's eyes narrowed as Itachi spoke of his reasons behind the massacre, though his face did not give away what he was thinking. Even as the dead Uchiha spoke, Shikamaru's stance seemed to shift into a more relaxed, lazy pose as he grew more confident and certain of this being a simple genjutsu. His eyes were still intent as he listened to Itachi though, betraying his otherwise uncaring appearance.
"Still..." If Shikamaru had been a dog, his ears would have perked up at the strange, almost amused tone. "There are many others out there who would try to use you, Sasuke. And many who would fear us and threaten our clan's existence...more so than I have already." His soft dark eyes sharpened as he stared intently at Shikamaru. "You cannot afford to let our clan fade into the history scrolls as just a footnote of betrayal and hatred. A few years ago, I discovered a secret. Perhaps the most important and hidden secret of the Uchiha clan. I would tell you here but..." He shook his head. "Though I am speaking to you, there is a small chance that my genjutsu has captured someone else, and I will not give Uchiha secrets away to a stranger."
Shikamaru respected him for that, just as he felt annoyance at a new obstacle. Uchiha Itachi's flaw was his pride—he had assumed no one would find his hideout and that it had to be Sasuke who would return here. Still, this was a good protection, just in case it hadn't been Sasuke...which had transpired after all. If he could just ask questions; Kami, he could learn so much from this mystery of a man! An Uchiha secret...what sort of power had they hidden away from the world? A forbidden jutsu? A weapon of mass destruction? Whatever it was, Konoha had to know.
"I hope you can figure it out, my little brother. It is vital to our clan and may be the greatest weapon we will ever have against our enemies." He fell silent as if speaking this much had tired the normally stoic Uchiha. A slight smirk crossed his face, and he stepped forward till he was close enough to breathe on Shikamaru.
"It looks like it's up to you to find it...my little brother."
A long slender finger shot out and, with almost mocking gentleness, poked him in the center of his forehead. The expression on Itachi's face was so peaceful, and the scene so brotherly and warm, that Shikamaru felt sick all of a sudden at his deception—even though it wasn't as if he had planned to take Sasuke's place. It's not me; I'm not Sasuke! For the first time during the genjutsu, he felt a spike of guilt. He had been so busy analyzing the encounter that it hadn't even occurred to him what it would have meant to Sasuke to hear his brother once more, so loving. He pushed that guilt aside, reminding himself that he owed nothing to a traitor.
Suddenly the world around him swirled in his vision, Itachi becoming just a pinpoint of dark color and soft eyes that twinkled more lively than they had in life, and Shikamaru found himself stumbling back, collapsing onto the ground. The cup that had been in his hands shattered, shards scattering. Beads of blood seeped out from his shaking fingers, but he was staring up blankly at the wall, where Itachi's eyes had been.
He felt woozy; worse than that night he, Ino, and Chouji had stayed up drinking till five. They had been mourning Asuma's passing at the time, and drinking had seemed like a good idea. His stomach was threatening to push up his throat, and he scrambled on hands and feet to get out of the room. He had to get out.
The walls bulged and swirled, disrupting his vision with a multitude of dark colors, as Shikamaru stumbled forward, hands pushing out at nothing. He let out a grunt when his shoulder slammed into a wall. Somehow he had to be free of this place. A fear-filled thought trickled into his mind. Was this Itachi's last trick? Had he known that it hadn't been his brother, but an imposter listening to his last words? Agonizing throbs of sudden pain pounded in his skull as he struggled forward, blindly.
It could have been minutes or hours of stumbling, but suddenly he became aware of a brightness that hadn't been there before. The darkness that had once been his friend had become his enemy, but now he found himself moving away from it with eagerness. His fingers plucked at nothing, grasping towards the light without success. If he could just reach the light—
Bright, fantastic colors splashed bizarrely across his eyes, sending more agony rushing into his brain. He let out an animalistic yell as he collapsed onto the ground outside of the building, fingers still scrabbling for a hold of anything. Lying there, his heart beat rapidly in and out of his chest, thrumming through his body so hard that he wondered if he was about to die. He didn't hear the sounds of someone speaking to him or feel the small hands that pressed against his chest and cupped his face. His eyes stared out blankly.
But the sudden coolness that seeped into his skin did calm the shakes, easing them till he was shivering slightly. Somewhere at the edge of his vision, green began to seep in, till his whole world began to glow a soothing green. His heart beats were quick, but as the seconds eased by, so did they, slowing till he began to breathe easier. The hands lifted and his eyes began to refocus. Sakura hovered above him, looking concerned.
Opening his mouth to say something that he couldn't even remember, he felt a shift in his insides, and he pushed himself up, shoving past Sakura to begin throwing up on the ground. He heaved up the single small ration bar that he had eaten for breakfast. And then proceeded to heave the rest of his stomach out.
"Shikamaru!"
"Nobody move!" he ordered fiercely, trying to regaining some sort of equilibrium. His head was still pounding uncomfortably and he wondered if Sakura could see his forehead pulsing. Placing a hand to his temple, he struggled to keep his focus from phasing out again. "Fan out and secure the area."
She eyed him dubiously, with some concern. "Shikamaru, you just gave two contradictory orders. How sick are you?"
His mind was throbbing. "I'm fine. It was for him. I didn't mean to—Uchiha—it was for him! Kami, what a troublesome mess!" Shikamaru knew he was babbling, something he scoffed at when he heard others do it, but right now it was the best he could do.
With some obvious effort, Sakura seemed to put the strangle of sentences together. "You found something?" There was excitement and some fear in her voice. He wondered if she'd be just as excited if she knew what he had accidentally triggered. But he just nodded his head instead, a quick jerk of motion rather than try to put words to his thoughts. Even that small motion still sent waves of nausea through him.
Sakura nodded decisively and placed a glowing hand to his forehead for a moment before lowering it. The throbbing eased. "We can talk about it later." His eyes shot up to hers; he had expected her to demand answers here and now because of the individuals involved. From her face he could tell that she wanted to just do that. She glared at him, easily reading his thoughts. "Look, there's something really wrong with you right now. I'm a doctor, Shikamaru, and my patients come first. We need to get you back to Konoha."
"I'm fine," he repeated.
He didn't expect her to suddenly tap his forehead lightly. It was so like what Itachi had done that he actually flinched. His pounding headache increased to full throttle again and he unintentionally let out a groan. Sakura quirked a slim pink eyebrow at him. "You're not fine. Shikamaru, you're in charge of this mission and if you get incapacitated, our orders were to return to Konoha." Neither of them said the reason why, but they both knew it. Shikamaru was too valuable to waste even on a mission of this importance. She cleared her throat uncomfortably before standing up. "Can you get up?"
"...No," he admitted. His legs felt like jelly and every movement he made just made his headache worse. Whatever Itachi's last trick had done, it had done a good job. It was almost humiliating, how incapacitate he felt.
"Then you have two options. Either I can carry you awake or I can carry you knocked out." She smiled so pleasantly that he shuddered. Neither option sounded that pleasant to him right now. He hated not being aware of his surroundings, but these intense spikes of pain made him want to lie there and die.
He let out a sigh. "What's the third option?"
"As your doctor, I make the decision!" she chirped and grinned at his annoyed expression. When he tried to rise, she immediately knelt down, hands on his shoulders to keep him from moving any further. "Stop that! I'm serious. Whatever hit you is very powerful. Even with my healing, I couldn't find the source; I could just alleviate some of the symptoms. You almost died, Shikamaru."
Had he really? He wasn't even sure if he was going to die now or not. No physical pain he had ever experienced had been as grueling as what he felt now. But he didn't want to go back yet. Not when there was still a mystery, and somehow, somehow he had to alleviate this sudden guilt. Kami, he had never intended to get trapped in that genjutsu! He needed to make this right. When he didn't say anything, something shifted in Sakura's expression. "If you're going to be this stubborn, then it looks like I have no choice." A hand shot out, bright green with chakra, and Shikamaru suddenly knew no more.