Chapter 2: Lost in Thought

"I'm counting on you to handle the rest." Those were his final words to Itachi that night on the cliff. He had never felt so low, so defeated, so hopeless in his entire life. He had failed everyone. There was no way to stop the clan's coup now. War would engulf the village. And what had possessed him to put the burden of saving everyone on Itachi? He was just twelve years old. What kind of older brother figure was he, pushing the burden of saving their entire clan on him? Maybe it was the poison flowing through his veins, killing him and taking his sense of judgement too. There was no way to tell what sort of power Itachi's mangekyo would have, or if his single remaining eye that Itachi had put in one of his crows would be able to even use the kotoamatsukami. The mangekyo sharingan was rare. He genuinely didn't know if Itachi needed both eyes to use its ability.

It kept him up at night. What happened? Did Itachi, with his genius IQ, figure out a plan to prevent the coup? Or did the clan pull off the attack and pull the village into civil war. Did Sasuke have to take up a kunai and defend himself? Was he even still alive? What happened? He couldn't stand not knowing what happened. He died and left it all to Itachi. But Itachi's genius IQ doesn't make up for his lack of life experience. They were both just kids. He had been just a stupid fourteen-year-old boy, full of youthful naivety and idealism, thinking that if he tried hard enough and lost enough nights of sleep working and investigating and planning that he could save everyone.

Danzo's words echoed through his mind every night when he tried to fall asleep. He couldn't fall asleep without thinking of his clan. His family. Without thinking of the sharingan eye that Danzo had stolen from him and wondering what he intended to do with it. He hated that he died without securing it, even if it couldn't be helped. "Flipping the ringleader Fugaku at this stage, you're just spitting into the ocean. I've made it through two great wars, and I am telling you, your plan will most certainly fail." He remembered that in this moment, Danzo's severity shut his mouth. Any words of protest died on his lips. "Even if you succeed in controlling Fugaku with visual jutsu, proposing a halt to action at the meeting today, and managing to pull off this stopgap, nothing will change. The radical faction will only think Fugaku's change of heart is because he has become cowardly in his old age. They will quickly pick a new leader, and move to put the plan into action. Listen to me, Shisui. The head can always be replaced."

Would it really have failed? Looking back, he was reluctant to admit that Danzo was probably right. His methods were questionable, assassinating him like he had to stop his plan to try to save the clan, but Danzo had a lifetime of experience and wisdom that he didn't. Danzo didn't trust anyone, not even his own comrade-in-arms the Sandaime Hokage, Hiruzen Sarutobi, but he would do whatever it took to protect the village. Even if it meant doing some pretty unsavory things. His heart was in the right place, at least. Which makes me wonder, what did he do with my sharingan? Is the clan safe? Is there even still a clan? Suffice to say, he never got enough sleep. He was used to running on little sleep, but it still didn't make it any easier. Especially in his new reincarnated body. He tried his best, but it still wasn't as well trained as his old one was.

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Life at the Number 4 Privet Drive with the Dursley family was blissfully normal, for eight-year-old Shisui Uchiha now Harry Potter. All he had to do was wake up, help out a bit, and go to school. For the first time in his life, he could actually be a child. Granted he still didn't act or think like a kid, and it was for this reason that he didn't have any friends at school or in the neighborhood. But for the first time in his life there were no expectations, no missions, no war to fight in. Being an Uchiha, you had no choice but to be a ninja and live and die defending your village, especially if you were gifted at fighting like he was. But here, as just Harry, he could be whatever he wanted. He had the choice that Itachi still would never get - to decide his own life for himself. But he found himself feeling completely lost and out of his element. This new life felt like a never-ending vacation. I just want to go back home. I want to see Itachi and Sasuke and Aunt Mikoto and Uncle Fugaku and everyone else. I need to see if the clan is safe. If the village is safe.

He still woke up before dawn to train every morning. He used this body's kekkei genkai – some kind of magical ability – to turn found discarded household objects into tools. He would wake up, put on some shorts and a t-shirt, tie the weapons hostlers he'd made to his right thigh, and walk to the park a few blocks away to train. He missed the familiar weight of the two tools pouches he'd always kept on his back at the waist, one for explosives and smoke bombs and the like and another for simple first aid supplies. He didn't have the resources to readily steal to make them here.

He had set up a small training area in the grove of trees by the children's park and put up seals along the perimeter so no one but himself could go in. They were just basic privacy seals, good for making camp because they prevented intrusion. It didn't stop the enemy from setting up post for an ambush outside the seal's perimeter, but this was just a training field. He was going overboard as it were.

Everyone thinks I'm just playing ninja. He felt like he was, though, when all he could do was throw kunai and shuriken at trees, practice the henge with a broken hand mirror he'd fixed, and relearn how to walk up trees. It would be a long time before he could do the body flicker again. It was what had made him famous all over the world, and got him flee on sight warnings in all the Five Great Shinobi Nations…and now he couldn't do it anymore.

He wasn't sure if he should be frustrated at that or not. I'm a civilian now, aren't I? Civilians don't need to learn how to kill people before they can even write in sentences. It was true. He had a body count higher than he was old before he could properly write in kanji. For the longest time, all he could write in kanji was his own name. He continued to write in hiragana like a preschooler until he became a jounin at 11 and could afford to get someone to tutor him. His math skills had been equally atrocious, but he let it be because you don't need to know your multiplication tables to be able to slaughter enemy ninja or write up mission reports. But being this weak, he felt like he was losing apart of himself even if he knew, logically, he had no need in this new, peaceful life to be strong like he had in his old one. But what am I, if I'm not even a ninja? All our lives, me and Itachi wanted nothing more than for the village to be at peace. But it feels so strange. I don't know what to do with myself anymore.

All he got done today was target practice and some laps. Nothing compared to his training routine at this age in his past life – he would run for hours, trying to build up stamina for missions. He walked into the Dursley house and shut the door. "I'm home!" It made him smile to be able to say that to a house full of people, even if they didn't like him.

"Harry, hurry up and get in here!" came his Aunt Petunia's shrill cry from the kitchen, muffled only a bit by the door.

"Yes, Aunt Petunia." He went in and helped her for a bit with the cooking and setting the table. It was a lot like being at his Aunt Mikoto's, really. He missed those days. She had raised him for the most part before he graduated the Academy at age 5 cause his parents were off fighting in the war. Even after he graduated and got a tiny apartment of his own on a genin's pay, she still invited him over often. He was like her third son, in a way.

Aunt Petunia had none of his Aunt Mikoto's affection, though. No warm smile or greeting or asking about him as he walked in. Just orders barked in his direction. "Watch the bacon for me. And try not to burn it!"

He did ask asked happily, though, with a partially genuine smile on his face, because even a family that didn't like him beat having no family at all. "I can't believe you went out to the park to play ninja this morning when I specifically told you not to. It's your first day of school, and I will not have Dudley be late because of you." And he really didn't want a spare moment to think about how he might not have a family back in Konohagakure anymore.

"I'm sorry, Aunt Petunia." He knew she was only putting up such a fuss and cooking a full breakfast because it was their first day of school. "Thank you for cooking breakfast." Any other school day, and it would have been cereal for him and simple oven food for Dudley. He ignored the blatant display of favoritism because free food and rent was free food and rent, even if his bedroom was a cupboard under the stairs formerly used for storing cleaning supplies and the vacuum. The last time he'd had this, he was still a five year old Academy kid in his previous life.