TH: First of all, I want to say thanks to my 4 reviewers. Much appreciated. In response to a question raised by cherryjubilee: sadly, this fic will not have any pairings, really. All the characters will be a little too young for that, and much too busy with other things...
In case anyone was wondering, yes the title comes from Hamlet's monologue in Shakespeare's play. In addition, all of the chapter titles are phrases from it. I thought the monologue really fit with Itachi's situation in his fic. To live, to die... And perhaps all of this is just the dream that came to him in his sleep of death...
Anyway, since I have a fair few chapters of this written already, and it's Friday, sunny, and I'm just so happy to see green outside my window, I decided to update early. Please read and review!
Perchance to Dream
Chapter Two—The Name of Action
After they had finished eating, the men of the Head Family left the table, leaving Mikoto to take care of the dishes. She gathered them up wordlessly, carrying them to the kitchen to be washed. A small sound made her turn toward the door of the dining area. She blinked to see her oldest son standing there, his dark eyes level on her.
"Itachi-kun… is there something you need?" she asked quietly. He took a couple steps closer, and reached out to take a plate from the stack of dishes she held.
"I will help you," he said just as quietly.
"Oh no, that's not…" Mikoto stopped as Itachi turned and went into the kitchen. She followed, unable to do much else.
Itachi placed the plate he carried into the sink, and started the water running. He heard his mother come up behind him. He turned to take the rest of the dishes from her. She relinquished them, but said: "You do not have to do this. I am sure you have other matters to take care of."
Itachi washed one plate in silence, wiping it meticulously clean before placing it aside in a rack to dry. He replied as if no time had elapsed: "Father is in his study. He can't hear us speak here."
He felt his mother tense beside him before she said, carefully without inflection: "Do you have something to say that he should not hear?"
Itachi turned to pin her with a look. "Okaa-san. You are unhappy with the way we, your sons, are being raised, are you not?"
The only indication of her surprise was the way her chakra contracted, as if coiling in preparation for attack. Then she sighed and relaxed. "Yes."
She reached over and started washing a bowl. "I knew you were intelligent, inherently skilled, even as a child. Even as a baby." She gave him a crooked smile. "Mother's intuition."
She sighed again, the smile dropping. "I was against your early graduation, and against your rapid advancement in the ninja ranks. I believed we would ruin you, forcing you forward, forward, ever forward. But I… have no power, not over the Clan's decisions."
"Did you try?" Itachi asked softly, using the tone of his voice to take most of the sting out of the question. It still drew blood, though, as his mother sucked in a sharp breath and her eyes reflected pain. Then she dropped her head.
"No," she whispered. "I didn't think I had a chance, so I didn't even try."
She lifted her face to his and said: "I failed you as your mother. Forgive me."
Itachi very nearly recoiled, feeling all his insides lurch at this unexpected reappearance of the words. He tamped down the reaction, though, and reached forward instead to touch his mother's wrist.
"Don't apologize," he said. "It may be too late for me in that regard, but you can still help Sasuke. The Clan is starting to take interest in him now as well. Sasuke is my otouto. I do not wish for him to have the childhood I had. I won't allow the Clan to break him."
Mikoto looked at him, her expression a complex of so many different emotions that it was hard to read.
"Thank you. Thank you." She took his hands and pressed her forehead to the backs of them. Releasing him, she added: "This time, I won't stand by."
Itachi nodded slightly. As he had expected. Although the demands and expectations of a woman as the wife of the Uchiha Clan Head had blunted Mikoto's will and spirit, they hadn't completely destroyed the sharp edges she had as a trained kunoichi.
Retiring to his room, Itachi changed into a light sleeping yukata and spread out his futon. Sitting with his legs folded beneath him on the cushion, he reviewed his situation.
He would still need to watch over and lead his mother's actions, at least for now, until she realized the power she had. But in that quarter, he had support. Knowing that her eldest son would back her in protecting Sasuke, Mikoto wouldn't be silently passive any longer.
That being said, he would still need to secure more allies for his plan to even have a hope of succeeding.
He expected to be able to get the Sandaime on his side; the Hokage was a wise man, if Itachi could explain the situation coherently, he was sure the Sandaime would afford him help.
Itachi also would prefer to get Shisui on his side, instead of having to fight or kill him again. He wasn't sure, though, if the Clan had gotten to the older Uchiha boy yet. If they had, then it would make things more difficult.
It was frustrating to not know when, or if, Madara would make an appearance. Itachi believed he would. Madara must have a reason for coming back now, when the Uchiha Clan was still alive. He knew that Madara had an obsession with returning the Clan to its former glory. Last time, Madara hadn't contacted the Clan before the Massacre. Perhaps this time, he wished to support the Clan, and lead them to victory in their coup?
Itachi exhaled in a controlled breath, long and slow. He would have to make an educated guess as to what would come of having the future Madara in this time, how the past he remembered might change from the changes both Madara and he himself introduced to it. And then he would have to prepare as best he could.
He unfolded himself and laid back on his futon. The sooner he began, the better chance he had. Tomorrow, he'd go for an audience with the Sandaime.
Walking through the Village was a study in self-control. Living as a nukenin for approximately half his life had instilled in Itachi a certain level of paranoia, a level which rose dramatically as soon as he felt anyone with a chakra signature that suggested ninja-training in his vicinity. With Konoha being a Hidden Village, this meant that simply walking down the street put one in a position to encounter one ninja in every four persons.
It didn't help that he was, once more, the famous genius Uchiha heir. His exploits (he was accomplished even at eleven) and heritage ensured that there were at least a few gawkers in every crowd—people who would stare, surreptitiously or blatantly. The feel of eyes on his back made Itachi's mental hackles rise. Even more so since he knew that he had once been used to it. That he was having such trouble now meant that either he didn't have the control over his emotions as much as he thought he did, or that he had been so thoroughly changed by his past—future?—life that he literally could not wipe his ingrained habits from his psyche.
Either option left a bitter taste in his mouth.
Despite this all, Itachi made it without incident to the Hokage's Tower. Identifying himself to the Chuunin runner at the base of the Tower, Itachi settled himself against the wall (perfect positioned to be able to see in all directions, still have plenty of room to maneuver, and have a couple options for escape) to wait as the Chuunin trotted up to the Hokage's office to relay his request for an audience to the Sandaime.
It shouldn't be a problem. Itachi had timed his visit to correspond with the window of time he knew the Hokage generally had free. It was that magic time of midmorning at which the Hokage's schedule miraculously cleared. The Hokage would agree to see him.
Sure enough, the Chuunin runner came down again almost immediately and told Itachi the Hokage was available presently. Itachi nodded, and headed up. He reached the Hokage's office and rapped on the door politely, opening it after he heard the elderly man's voice call an acknowledgement.
Sarutobi Hiruzen was seated at his desk, clad in the traditional robes of his position. Itachi found that he was still mildly amused by the fact that Sarutobi was the only Hokage ever to wear the robes full-time, and yet they were still considered the 'traditional' costume. The only one who had come close had been the Yondaime, with his customized coat. The Shodai and Nidaime had had their armor, and the Godaime had simply worn her usual clothing.
Itachi moved to stand at attention directly before the desk. "Hokage-sama."
"Uchiha Itachi. You needed to speak with me?" asked the old man.
"Yes, sir. I would ask that you keep an open mind and not interrupt me until I am finished," Itachi replied formally. Sarutobi's eyebrows rose, and he took his pipe from his mouth.
"Alright, proceed," he said. Itachi bowed slightly, and paused, gathering his thoughts. He could feel the ANBU agents hanging hidden around the office, the Hokage's bodyguards, but their presence did not concern him, even though they would hear what he would say. They were sworn to secrecy, and besides, Itachi could identify by name each of the ANBU currently on duty, and he knew none were double agents for Danzo or Madara. He began.
"I am not Uchiha Itachi," the eleven-year-old started, and watched the Hokage's eyebrows lower as he tried to decipher what Itachi might mean by that. "Or at least, I am not the Itachi who should be here."
He settled himself into his reporting mode, speaking as coherently and without emotional bias as he could. "Uchiha Madara is alive, and he possesses the Mangekyo Sharingan, a level of Sharingan achieved only after killing one's closest friend. What's more, he has the Eternal Mangekyo Sharingan. This evolution comes after taking the Mangekyo eyes of another Sharingan wielder, and allows the possessor to escape the one downfall of the Mangekyo—gradual blindness. With the Eternal Mangekyo Sharingan, one may use the advanced power of the Mangekyo until death without losing any power of vision.
"Each Mangekyo Sharingan affords a different ability to its wielder. Madara's allows him to manipulate space and time. He can teleport. Between places. Between times. He has recently come to this time from a point approximately eleven years in the future." Itachi's eyes warned Sarutobi not to speak as the Hokage looked poised to comment. "Which brings me back to my first statement. I am the Uchiha Itachi from that time. I was brought back along with Madara himself, by, I believe, some miscalculation or error on Madara's part. While there are some resultant questions I have no satisfactory answers for, such as why I am once again in my eleven-year-old body, this explanation is the only one that bears up under scrutiny.
"Which brings me to the reason I am here telling you this. Whatever Madara plans to accomplish by coming back here, I am certain that it will constitute a threat to Konoha." Itachi stopped, and stood expectantly at attention before the Hokage's desk as Sarutobi thought over what he'd just outlined.
After a brief thoughtful silence—in which Itachi could practically hear the speculations of the Hokage and the ANBU, unspoken, but loud—the Hokage looked up, into Itachi's face. But Itachi noted that the man was careful not to meet his eyes—a wise action, though perhaps discouraging in the distrust implicit in it.
"Do you have evidence to back up what you've told me?"
Itachi inclined his head. "I'm willing to allow Ibiki-san to question me. Or Yamanaka Inoichi-san could find the truth of what I've said in my mind. Although… with all due respect, sir, I would advise you to assume the threat of Madara real until it is proven one way or the other."
Sarutobi stroked his beard once, and braced his thumb and forefinger on his chin as he considered. "That would work best if they were aware of the situation and the context of the interrogation."
"They may be trusted to be circumspect with that information."
"Hm. Yes." The Sandaime Hokage eyed Itachi. "Still, what you've just disclosed to me will be recorded and tagged S-rank Classified."
"But I will be allowed to inform others as I see fit," Itachi stipulated, firmly. The Hokage lifted one eyebrow at the officious tone of his voice. Itachi preempted any argument or comment with: "I have advanced knowledge of what the next several years may bring. I need some freedom of movement in this regard."
"If what you have said is indeed proven correct by Ibiki and Inoichi, then we may speak of such things," the Hokage said. That was acceptable, and Itachi said so.
Then he paused a moment, and slowly said: "There is… one other thing I have to say."
Itachi knew that if he had Ibiki and Inoichi digging around in his head, it would be best to up-front about some of the things they would unearth. Particularly this, as it could cripple him if they found the memory before he admitted to it. Not only that, but the Hokage should know. He should be warned of what the Uchiha had been capable of, what they might do again.
"In my time, I was a nukenin." As soon as the words left his mouth, Itachi felt everyone in the room freeze, muscles tightening, coiled to act or react. He himself held still, keeping his bearing and chakra nonthreatening. He continued: "It proved impossible for me to stay in Konoha after killing the Uchiha Clan on the orders of the Council."
He watched shock, disbelief, and confusion chase each other across Sarutobi's face. Then the Hokage said carefully: "The Council ordered you, in the future, to kill your Clan? All of your Clan?"
"Yes sir. The Uchiha Clan was planning a coup, and the Council determined the best solution was extermination." Itachi's voice was blank—the blank of someone who had strong emotions but was trying very hard not to feel them. Understanding washed the Hokage's face and he sighed.
"So there is some substance to the rumors…" he murmured.
"We need to prevent the coup," Itachi said. "I would prefer it happen in a different manner than that in my time. I could not kill my family again."
The Hokage flinched a little at the tone of his voice, and the words.
"Yes," Sarutobi agreed quietly. "I would prefer another method also."
The Hokage shook his head: "In any case. You will be questioned first by Ibiki and Inoichi."
Sarutobi pulled out a blank scroll and filled it rapidly with small swift writing. Rolling it up, he said: "Rooster!"
Between one blink and the next, an ANBU wearing a rooster mask appeared beside the Hokage's desk. The masked elite looked attentively at Sarutobi, apparently ignoring Itachi. But Itachi knew better to believe the appearance.
"Yes sir?" the ANBU said, voice slightly muffled and distorted by the porcelain mask of his occupation.
"Escort Uchiha-san here to Ibiki, if you would. Give Ibiki this," Sarutobi ordered, handing over the scroll to the ANBU. Then he turned toward Itachi. "We'll talk again."
Itachi bowed, straightfaced, and turned to follow Rooster out of the room and down to the bowels of the Tower. Below the Village, a system of tunnels connected the major buildings of Konoha, providing quick discrete routes to the Hokage's Tower, the hospital, ANBU headquarters, and the library. Ibiki and Inoichi's demesne was in the lowest levels of the ANBU headquarters.
Even though at eleven Itachi hadn't been in the headquarters yet, he had the benefit of a memory of being an ANBU Captain. He knew these corridors like the back of his hand, and was able to move confidently through them, following but not following Rooster. They came quickly to their destination. Rooster rapped on a door, opened it, and led the way in.
"Yes, what is it?" demanded the gruff voice of Morino Ibiki. Moving further into the room, Itachi saw the head of the Torture and Interrogation Force. He was cleaning a set of his tools. Inoichi didn't seem to be in, but that was hardly surprising; he didn't often hang about the interrogation rooms unless called in specifically. It was just Ibiki today. Rooster stepped up to the scarred man and handed over the scroll.
"From the Hokage."
Ibiki scanned it as Rooster turned and left. After some time, Ibiki looked to Itachi with a quirked eyebrow. "And I thought I'd seen everything. This is the first time anyone's volunteered to be at my tender mercies."
"I imagine the Hokage has included a few stipulations in his missive," Itachi said calmly, "such as the need to keep me alive and whole."
"Oh, la, he makes a joke," said Ibiki in fake light tone. Then his voice hardened. "Listen up. You've volunteered to be interrogated so you can prove the truth of this ridiculous story—" here he waved the scroll in the air "—to the Hokage. That means you've yielded all power. To me. And I will do what I must to determine the truth. That means that if I have to bring out the thumbscrews, I will, and the Hokage will not interfere."
Completely unconcerned, Itachi replied: "It isn't likely to come to that."
"Hn," Ibiki grunted his disbelief. "We'll start with the simple questions."