Inoichi Yamanaka sadly lowered his hands as he released his clan's technique. Lord Third and Anko Mitarashi stood side-by-side, awaiting his report.
He sighed. "He has experienced severe emotional trauma."
"Of what kind, exactly?" The Hokage asked, his unlit pipe hanging from his lips.
"The kind that could make him give up on becoming a shinobi." Inoichi said flatly.
... ... ...
I awoke to one thing: cold fury.
"Ibukai?"
I turned to see Sepi standing up, and upon further inspection, I saw Miko sitting against the hospital room's wall.
"I'm going to kill him." I said coldly. "I'm gonna nail that snake fucker to the Hokage's monument with his own fucking fangs."
... ... ...
Two weeks later…
The village's repair was going fine, as only the part where the giant damn snake attacked was actually damaged. There will relatively few losses, but my parents were among them. Hence the reason why I was dressed in black, standing in the pouring rain with my team as a mass funeral was held for shinobi and civilians alike that had died in the attack.
Lord Hokage stood in the front, living proof that we could, indeed, change this world. The faces in the pictures on the memorial table, however, showed that we hadn't succeeded fully. As one of the ones who lost a family member to the invasion, I stood near the front as well, a white rose gripped painfully in my hand, and I was mindless of the thorns.
How long had it been? How long had I been here? I didn't remember. All I remembered was Mom's smiling face when I came home at night, her frown of concern when I was injured, her hugs, warm, comforting, when I was upset. Dad was nowhere as expressive, but he showed it other ways. His pastries had accompanied me on every mission, and whenever I came into the shop on my way to our second-story home, he had been sure, even if he was with a customer, to pause what he was doing and greet me with a "welcome home, son." He had quit ANBU just to be a father to me.
I began wondering if I had truly valued them enough.
... ... ...
Kakashi stood with the rest of the Jounin, but he was watching Ibukai. His son. When Aiko had told him that she was pregnant, he panicked. Who wouldn't? He had been 15, in the ANBU, for Kami's sake! She was a year younger, and the Uchiha wouldn't look favorably upon one of their own becoming pregnant out of wedlock with the person that they saw as the reason for one of their own dying.
He had seen how hurt she had been when he freaked out. Those normally kind eyes, deep in pain, even as she forced a smile and suggested they give the child away. Kakashi, deep down, knew it had been the wrong decision when he had agreed. He sought out Toru, one of his mentors in ANBU, and had asked him and his new wife to look after the child when it was born. Since Shena couldn't have children, they had readily agreed.
Aiko had been insistent on one thing: she wouldn't cut the child off from her clan. Few people had known the child's origins, her immediate family being one of them. She, in retrospect, had been as much of a mother as she possible could be to her son, without him knowing the truth. Her younger brother Shisui had taken to the boy like a true uncle, and he and Itachi often taught the boy in their spare time. Ibukai and Sasuke had grown close, too. Little by little, Kakashi began to interact with Ibukai. First in passing, then bringing little treats whenever he visited the Uchiha compound, which was admittedly much less frequent than the visits should have been.
Then everything changed when the Massacre occurred. Whatever happened to Ibukai, he no longer had a recollection of the event. Everything before he was 5 was seemingly erased from his memory. What Kakashi regretted the most, even above Itachi's betrayal and Aiko's death, was the fact that Ibukai would probably never remember Aiko's smiling face. He wouldn't remember Shena bringing the boy by and leaving him at Aiko's for the entire day, even sometimes overnight. Kakashi had been there one night when Aiko had tucked the tired boy in, placing a gentle kiss on his forehead before turning out the light and closing the boy's favorite book, placing it on the nightstand.
"He's like you." She said, tucking her chin-length hair over her ear. "Sometimes he likes to cover his face with scarves or blankets. He likes broiled Saury, and eggplant with Miso soup, just like you." With that, she brushed by him, closing the door, leaving him in the dark with his son.
He stood watch all night.
... ... ...
Anko looked sadly at where her student stood near the front of the crowd, head bowed, shoulders hunched. Inochi had described what the boy went through, and honestly, he was right. There was a strong possibility Ibukai would quit being a shinobi. Seeing your mother and father burn to death in front of you usually did that to people.
Ibukai's head suddenly shot up and he strode forward, interrupting the Hokage's speech with his sudden action. In one smooth motion he placed his rose on the table in front of his parent's pictures before turning and walking away, eyes forward, not stopping once to look back. Anko saw Sepi start to move to intercept him, but stop at the last second. A soft gasp came from the front, and Anko looked away from Ibukai's retreating back to see his 'white' rose that he had put down.
It was red, stained with blood.
Anko smiled without humor. It was a testament, an oath that all assembled shinobi understood. A blood oath for revenge.
"Looks like he hasn't given up on being a shinobi, yet." She muttered just loud enough for Kakashi to hear.