"What do you know about Shimura Danzo?"
Sakura frowned. "...You mean Danzo the Conqueror? The shogun warlord who united the nomadic clans of Leaf and most of the surrounding territories?" Absently, she passed Itachi a bowl of steaming tomato rice before settling at the table to eat. "History books have dubbed him one of the founding fathers of the Land of Fire."
A corner of Itachi's mouth twisted up in a cynical half-smile. "History does have the unfortunate tendency of being written by the victors," he said. He regarded her over his bowl for a long moment. "Do you know anything of the Uchiha clan?"
Chewing on her lip, Sakura attempted to dredge up the long-forgotten content from her high school history classes. "Didn't they get completely wiped out after attempting to stage a coup d'etat during Danzo's rise to power?"
Itachi gave a minute shake of his head. "Not completely, though history books might claim otherwise," he said quietly. He glanced away, the lines around his eyes deepening with a weariness that was completely at odds with his youthful appearance. "I am— was Itachi, son of Fugaku, heir to the Uchiha clan, and the sole survivor of the Uchiha Massacre."
A spoonful of rice froze halfway to Sakura's mouth. "But that was almost a thousand years ago!" she sputtered disbelievingly. "Are you telling me you've been under a geis for a millennium?!"
A curt nod. Itachi's jaw clenched, and Sakura watched the muscle under his cheek dance and shift. "Danzo was the one who cursed me. The Uchiha Massacre was his first order as master of the geis." For a split second, a savage, tormented look flashed across his eyes, contrasting sharply with the flat, lifeless tenor of his voice. "I am the last of the Uchiha because I slaughtered my kin."
Grains of rice skittered over the table like tiny glass shards as the spoon fell from Sakura's nerveless fingers.