A/N: Although this is chapter one, it's still a bit prologue-ish. Following chapters will be longer and the plot will be set in motion. ;)
Chapter 1: Teach me
声殺して 目を塞いで 闇に溺れて 彷徨って
鋭利な君の声を胸に
全てを闇に
Dir en grey - Kodou
"You are early. Good, it shows your determination. You will definitely need that." Orochimaru stood from the table, stretching his back and shoulder muscles, though his arms kept dangling limply, and paced forward until he was about six feet from me.
"Now. It's time for you to reveal your theory." I stated with as little emotion as I could, disinclined to betray my eagerness. The less he sensed about me, the more secure I felt.
He momentarily knitted his brows at my command but made no remarks.
"Let's start from the basics. What is essentially your Sharingan? No, let me rephrase that. What is essentially the Uchiha clan's Sharingan?"
"An eye technique that can be awakened exclusively by members of the Uchiha bloodline."
I crossed my arms on my chest and leaned against the wall as I answered.
"The characters literally meaning copy wheel eye, it endows its user with several uniquely beneficial abilities. First, it grants a supreme perception of the opponent's movements, allowing the user to detect, parry or recreate ninjutsu, taijutsu or even genjutsu. Secondly, it makes the opponent's chakra flow visible, which entails many advantages from determining an attack's source before it's even realized, to instantly recognizing if someone is under the effect of a genjutsu."
"The effects you have described fall to the category of the Sharingan's Eye of Insight ability."Orochimaru interjected with a slight nod "Go on."
"The Sharingan is also a tool for powerful genjutsu, able to inflict pain and induce paralysis."
My mind flashed back to the illusion Itachi had trapped me in, where every house, every achingly familiar door and window existed only to double, triple the anguish of watching people I'd been living surrounded by be sliced down and collapse lifeless.
With a firm blink of my eyes, I waved the unpalatable memory away.
"Another commonly used feature is a sort of mind-infiltration, meaning the user may suggest actions or thoughts to the opponent, ultimately reaching a state of total control if the user is skilled enough. The Mangekyou Sharingan…"
"That is sufficient for now." Orochimaru interrupted me with a nod "The latter effects can be categorized as the Eye of Hypnotism abilities. Let's move on. Do you understand the importance of the Sharingan's pattern?"
The three-bladed shuriken pattern in Itachi's eyes the last time we met.
"It changes its shape according to the level of development. At first, there's but a single tomoe, then two, three, and after that… I haven't seen many of those." I admitted with a sudden sense of discomfort.
"I believe it varies from user to user. Right now, you possess two tomoes in each eye. If we are to make any advance with your Sharingan, you need to reach the next stage first."
His posture was rigid, motionless as he spoke. It caused an ache in his arms to move them, I'd found out a long time ago. It seemed to me that he hardly even blinked, his gaze riveted to me.
"Then I will use it during every training from now on. And then…?"
I felt mildly frustrated that he kept questioning me but would not explain why.
He quirked his lips into a sly smile.
"Hmm. How much do you know about mind reading?"
"Not much." I blinked, confused. "One of my peers, Yamanaka Ino…her father is among the best of interrogators in Konoha. I assume it means he can read minds fairly efficiently to have earned that title."
"Yamanaka Inoichi. Indeed. He is a member of Konoha's Intelligence Division. It is an organization in charge of acquiring information from shinobi for the sake of the village."
"How is that relevant for us?" I burst out, finally having had enough of missing the link between his inquires.
"It is relevant because you are going to combine your Sharingan with mind reading."
I gaped at him for a long minute, uncomprehending as to how that would be possible or why I would want it in the first place. What I needed was an array of powerful jutsus that could catch Itachi off-guard. Secretly, I'd been wishing Orochimaru would come up with an alternative way of procuring Mangekyou Sharingan. But this…
Setting up a priority among the questions swirling in my head, what I first asked was "Why?"
He chuckled in amusement, apparently having foreseen my puzzlement.
"Don't you want to discover the most deeply lurking fears of your brother? To unfold the enigma of the day he decided to slaughter his entire clan but leave his sibling alive? To see past his wall of lies and-?"
"How do you know he was lying?"
My tone was crude and icy which seemed to amuse him even more.
"He is a heartless monster and not the brother I imagined him to be."
"He massacred his family, his blood to test his own capabilities? That is the reason of a deranged madman, not a brilliant member of the Anbu. Whatever his motivation was, it must have been something of the highest value to him."
A feral growl escaped my throat and I balled my hands into fists by my sides. His grin waned a trifle, but he showed no other sign of acknowledging my steadily growing rage. The cursed seal on my neck pulsed, and within it Orochimaru's own chakra stirred restlessly.
I didn't want to talk about Itachi. I didn't want him to talk about my betrayer brother. His existence was mine, a burden of my own, one that I clung to with adamant insistence. I felt an inexplicable, compulsive need to appropriate him, the bane of my existence, a twisted sense of intimacy. And I was resentful of anyone so much as mentioning his name.
Itachi's death was mine, the sole desire and dream that had been keeping me going for the past years. A thirst unending, always pushing me forward.
For Orochimaru to imply that I had been delusioned all this time, and the truth lay hidden beneath an intricately woven web of lies, was insulting.
The only truth I recognized and accepted was vengeance.
"If you want to kill me, curse me, hate me. And live a long and unsightly life. Run away, run away, and cling to your pitiful life. And some day, when you have the same eyes as me, come before me."
Through the suffocating crimson mist that engulfed my senses, a solitary sane thought occurred to me.
"How do you know what Itachi told me that night? I never shared it with you." I barked at him.
Orochimaru, his face devoid of any emotion by then, slowly walked to the cupboard and opened a drawer, grabbing a small, round container. Facing me again, he stepped to me, expression endlessly tranquil.
"Kabuto told me of your nightmares."
His voice had changed. It rang softer, considerate to the point it almost sounded sympathetic, with no sarcastic or amused edge to it. Not even pitiful. Just simply... soothing.
It unbalanced me.
"You often talk while he administers the medicine to rouse you. Always that same gory memory, the same harsh words."
He reached his arm out, and without thinking, I lifted mine. He dropped the tiny container into my palm, and though the glass was an opaque brown, I could hear the rustling of pills inside.
"Take one before you retire to rest. It's a light soporific. Your mind will be at ease, and yet you will be able to sense if something or someone would...disturb your sleep."
His expression was unfathomable. I understood then, instinctively, that he spoke out of experience.
I stared at the small bottle of medicine in my hand in silence for a while. When I opened my mouth to speak again, I was calm.
"So how do I combine the Sharingan with mind reading?"
The familiar grin returned, creeping up almost to his ear on the right side of his face, where the candle light hardly extended to. An eerie, crooked smile.
"The basic principle is this. The Eye of Insight, in a manner of speaking, perceives the outside, be it one's chakra flow, ninjutsu, taijutsu or inferior genjutsu. The Eye of Hypnotism penetrates the inside, tampers with the mind through words, memories or even some torment of your own choosing. What we want is an amalgamated effect of the two, an Insight of the Mind or a Reversed Hypnotism if you will."
I furrowed my eyebrows.
"Why will this be superior to the talent that Ino's father possesses?"
The candle flickered as a breeze rolled into the room, repainting the haunting smile on the immortal shinobi's face into a gaping rictus.
"Because we are talking about a Sharingan. You will read through the thoughts of any opponent from shallow impressions to covertly cherished dreams as effortlessly as one reads a scroll. With a single, piercing glance. What is that if not one of the greatest powers one can have over human beings?"
At last, my own lips curved into a smile.
The possibility to peek behind Itachi's impassive mask, to learn what he dreads the most, to obtain a key to avenging my clan completely and utterly.
Nothing would appease me more.
And one more thing… I wanted to feel it for myself. My brother's emotions when he executed his own kin, along with the people who'd raised, loved and trusted him more than anyone in the world. Because in order to crush and erase the memory of my fake brother in my heart, I needed to bathe myself in the inhuman cruelty that formed the core of his true nature. I was aware that this was a pitiable weakness on my part, meaning that something inside me was still clinging to his false image, as though remembering his lies served any reasonable purpose. But I couldn't help thirsting for this kind of closure. The living and breathing Itachi had to die along with the one inside my memories.
"Remember this, Sasuke-kun. No matter how detached or cold-blooded a shinobi may seem, everyone has a vulnerable side, an aspect of frailty that they try to conceal and bury deep under the wards of resolution, endurance or plain insanity. Your brother is no exception."
What was that? With a shrug I disregarded his remark.
"What do I do until the third tomoe awakens in my eyes?" I queried, my voice all but hoarse from excitement.
"I will subject you to intensive training. We will hone your command over fire and lightning to improve your Chidori and Goukakyuu no jutsu. I shall also teach you new techniques. As to your Sharingan, you will be provided sufficient opportunities to practice."
"How long until I reach the state you described?"
He squinted slightly in consideration.
"Years, probably."
I frowned at that, but refrained from expressing my displeasure otherwise. He let out a soft chuckle, which could almost be interpreted as fond compared to his usual malicious cackle.
"Don't be impatient, we have an ample amount of time. Two years or so before I have to transmigrate to your body."
His amber eyes glimmered perilously.
I snorted and rolled back my eyes, crossing my arms on my chest once more.
"I don't care about that. If by that time, I don't deem my progress satisfying enough, you won't have me."
The ashen face contorted into a warning scowl but I took no heed.
"So put your other experiments on hold, or leave them completely to Kabuto, for all I care. From now on, you focus on me alone."
Faster than lighting, I was flattened to the wall. The sole indicator that Orochimaru had moved—the fluttering of shadows on the walls as the candles' flames wavered. Without my Sharingan and in the close proximity we had formerly been, I couldn't register his snake-like leap.
He leaned in close, teeth bared in a snarl as I was pinned from head to toe against the wall, his hand—no doubt in great pain from the exertion—and body keeping me from escaping. My hands flew to his in an instant, trying desperately to pry them off my neck, to no avail.
"I don't need your permission for anything, kid. You only survived in the Forest of Death because I saw potential in you. Your life belongs to me now, never forget that."
A blunt pain enveloped my throat as I choked helplessly for air under his viselike grip, feeling his hot breath puff against my, no doubt, swiftly reddening cheeks. My eyelids slipped close, consciousness drifting farther and farther with each painful second.
An agonized groan reached my ear—good, he is aching too—followed by a faraway warning.
"And if you think about ordering me like a dog again, I just might carve your pretty eyes out and have them implanted into another body I take, discarding yours here, in one of the cells to rot."
I was finally dumped to the ground and I doubled over in a fit of violent coughs.
"Training chamber. One hour." he rasped, his cold voice faltering from apparent pain as he sneaked out of the room, in the direction of Kabuto's lab, unmistakably in order to have his sore hands treated.
How I wished his arms would decompose.
For the next hour—after several minutes of lying hunched against the wall Orochimaru had almost throttled me at—, as I finally scrambled to my feet to sullenly pad towards the training chamber and wait for my ill-tempered teacher, I even forgot about my loathsome brother.