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Part 4: Uchiha Yujirou
They laughed and asked, why would they?
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Doing the house chores with Mikoto was very different from doing it alone. They did not speak much, yet just knowing that there was someone else with him made a world of difference. And Yujirou will admit feeling proud of himself when the Lady of the house deemed his work up to par with her standards.

"You know, when my husband and I had just started living together, he had tried helping with the chores. Now, Fugaku is a fine shinobi and a great leader. But after one week, I had to put down my foot. We received many beautiful tea sets from our friends and family and less than half of them survived Fugaku's hands. I never quite figured out how he managed it. At first, I suspected he was doing it on purpose to get out of the work, but he never could lie to me. Well, we just had to cut our losses."

Yujirou tried to reconcile the image of their stoic clan head with the incompetent husband Mikoto-sama was describing. It brought a small smile to his face.

"Itachi used to help around the house too. But as heir, he always had too much on his plate. I just wanted him to be able to enjoy his time at home and relax," the woman continued. "Sasuke is a different story all together. He's more interested in catching up to Itachi. That boy spends all his time training." Though she said it with the same pride in her voice as any shinobi parent would have, there was a trace of sorrow in the last statement.

It was still pretty early in the morning. The pair had moved to outside to tend to Mikoto's modest garden. Most of the plants she kept had herbal properties. And most of them were given freely to the Uchiha clinic and Kohona Hospital.

"What I have here can't compare to the what Yoshino has under her supervision in the Nara forest, but it helps," Mikoto explained.

Yujirou didn't know much about plants yet. But he had hoped to learn more about them from Genma, specifically the poisonous ones. Yujirou was busy taking in the different varieties of plants around him when he saw the most peculiar thing. There was a single rose bush on the farthest corner of the plot. He wouldn't have noticed it really it it weren't for the fact that its unhealthy state was a stark contrast to Mikoto's other plants.

"That's Sasuke's. We got it when he turned four. He's been neglecting it since he started training harder for the academy. He liked the red of the flowers when they're in full bloom. He says it reminds him of us. Fugaku told me not to bother with it. It is Sasuke's plant, after all-" she clears her throat and lowers her voice "-that boy will learn the meaning of responsibility. His actions have consequences. By willfuly ignoring the plan despite your reminders, he had failed it. Thinking like that is not permissable on the field," she continues in a mock-Fugaku tune. "I admit though, I might have spoiled our youngest a bit."

There was a pause on Mikoto's hands. Keeping her lax smile, she turned to the younger Uchiha beside her, "I love Itachi. But I always knew I would have to give him up to the clan some day. It was the duty and responsibility of the first born, just like it was my duty as the clan head's wife to ensure the Uchiha an heir. With Sasuke, it's not like that."

These were things Yujirou didn't know from before. He never knew firsthand the kind of people the clan heads were. But having been been in their care for the last twelve hours had made them real. They were icons yes. Yujirou held great respect for their achievements in the last war. Both were Elite Jounin with fearsome reputations across the Elemental Nations. They were possibly the best leaders the Uchiha has ever had. Yet they were also a mother, a father, a wife, and a husband.

In ten months, Itachi will try to slaughter the whole clan. Yujirou wonders if the woman and her husband beside him would fall by her son's blade too. Was it something they did? Was there something they could have done to stop Itachi?

Mikoto drags him back inside an hour or so before noon. It was customary for her to prepare lunch, pack it, and have it with Fugaku in his office. Sometimes though, he would ask his wife not to bring food, opting instead for one of the Akimichi-owned food establishments, either to dine in the place or order take out. On this particular day, Mikoto has already a standing order, ready to be delivered at Fugaku's office at exactly noon.

"I really don't want to impose further, Mikoto-sama. I could just stay out and meet you outside the MPF building after an hour," Yujirou insisted, slightly more nervous at the prospect of spending more time with his clan heads alone and inside the MPF office to boot.

He was an Uchiha no-name orphan. What business did he have with the clan's leading figures? Oh, no one was going to question Fugaku and Mikoto, but it doesn't mean words won't travel. They were shinobi of the leaf. Gossip at the pretense of information gathering, ha ran through their blood. Yujirou has no interest getting prodded by the Elders if news got out that he has unlocked his Sharingan.

The Lady Uchiha understood and did not press to change his mind. "Yujirou-kun, we don't mind having you around. We are family, and as fellow clansmen, you will always have the Uchiha's support."

Yujirou had been having such an uneventful morning that he had been able to push his current predicaments to the back of his mind. As the main family lives at the heart of the compound, they did not encounter very many Uchiha on the way to Fugaku's work. The adults, shinobi and civilian alike, have their own jobs. The kids not old enough to attend the Academy were probably at Uchiha Fukumi's house, learning the basics of reading, writing, and arithmetics. Not all Uchiha children go through Fukumi. Sasuke had been personally taught by his own mother. But orphans like Yujirou or children with busy parents usually let the forty-year-old retired shinobi handle the kids' early education. It was a great show of trust in Fukumi's ability to keep the Uchiha children safe.

Recently there has been a massive decline in birth of new clan children that had made the older generation more paranoid of their safety. Since the previous wars had really taken a toll on the number of Uchiha active shinobi, all the children were expected to try for the academy. At the moment, barely a third of the clan's total population are trained shinobi. To add to that, in the past year, one Uchiha special jounin went MIA and three chunin were killed in action.

It wasn't until they were closer to the outer ring of the compound where there were small businesses and therefore more people that Yujirou started to see the dead.

He knows their faces. Not all their names. But he knows their faces. Share the same blood with them. He had seen their faces for the past few years, milling around the clan lands and minding their own business. He's greeted them in the morning. They've given him sweets and had asked about his training in passing. They doted on him because he was one of the rare young Uchiha. They've told him to do well in class. Make the clan proud. Protect Konoha and serve her well.

And now, he's also seen the faces they make when they die.

The coppery scent in the air, a river of blood on the streets, red staining the walls; dead Uchihas in their homes, in their stalls, in their backyards. Black eyes. Red eyes. Lifeless. Mouths set in agony and screams forever silent.

Yujirou stood frozen jn the street. One moment he was following Lady Uchiha and the next, he is standing on a river of blood, his killer-to-be preparing to strike his heart.

"Yujirou-kun?"

Mikoto-sama is kneeling in front of him. Some of the elderly Uchiha stopped moving to stare at the pair. No one got too close, but they were frowning in concern and curiosity.

Cold sweat ran down his brows. Yujirou felt like someone had set an exploding tag on his insides with the way his whole being was shaking. Then there was a hand on his face and another on his shoulder.

"Yujirou-kun, what's wrong?"

Yujirou wants to speak, wants to tell her he's fine. But he couldn't will his voice out.

"Mikoto-sama? Yu-chan?" A voice from his left says. It was familiar and comforting and something Yujirou thought he'd never hear again.

Uchiha Shisui, fifteen years old, in all his mud and dirt-streaked glory, stood there, very much alive and breathing and in possession of both his eyes.

With much difficulty, Yujirou manages to tear his eyes away from the older Uchiha male, back to the woman in front of him.

"Mikoto-sama, I think, I'm just tired. I'll be heading back now. I feel like resting. Please don't let me keep you from meeting with Fugaku-sama," he manages to say, though with too much stiffness even for him.

It was clear that Mikoto was hesistant to leave him.

"Is Yu-chan sick? I'm not really doing anything today. I don't mind staying with him, Mikoto-sama," Shisui offered, closing the distance between them in no time. "But I hope you don't mind of we drop by my house first. As you can see, as dashing as I am, what I'm wearing now is still not fit for company." He grins, quickly dispeling the sombre mood that had taken over Yujirou and Mikoto.

It struck Yujirou then just how much Shisui exuded life. Every inch of him buzzed with emotion. From the tips of his dark curly hair to the crinkle below his eyes. It was in the way his chest moved to complete a breathe and in the shift of his posture to favor a leg in a more lax stance. The thought of him deadgonenomore was so, so wrong even though it was something he had lived with for months. Or perhaps, he never really thought Shisui dead. Perhaps he had still been waiting for him to get back from another long mission. That wasn't unusual for Shisui-nii. He was - is - one of Konoha's strongest jounin.

(Ah. Could he had been ANBU like Genma-nii? It wouldn't be too farfetched. Shisui-nii was much younger, but his skills were second only to Itachi, after all.)

He had always seemed like a shinobi who would live to a hundred. Shisui could live forever, and Yujirou was sure no one would raise questions.

Shisui has the uncanny ability to make everything seem okay. And with him finally here alive and breathing and not drowned in Naka River, Yujirou could almost forget the giant ticking clock spelling his and his clansmen's death in less than a year.