A/N: Hello dear readers! I hope you're all doing good and that you had great holidays! Any New Year resolutions? Mine is to finish Book 1 of this monster of a story (At first I wanted to make it my goal to finish the entire story, but let's face it, that won't happen anytime soon XD)

This chapter is a bit shorter, but I haven't been idle! I've been planning and sketching down what needs to happen in the next arc and made sure I will do the necessary foreshadowing in these coming chapters. So here we are, a chapter mostly focusing on Itachi. Enjoy!

Though most consider Uchiha Madara as the founder of the Uchiha clan, that is as far from the truth as tales can be. In fact, the first-ever documented records of the name Uchiha dates back to many years before the clans' era. Actually, it can be clearly said the name of Uchiha is among one of the oldest names existing, making it a matter of great pride among the clan.

The first family that bore the name of Uchiha was that of Uchiha Iroshima, his wife, and 3 children. But unlike the current clan, the Uchiha was at that time a family of nobles. Iroshima himself used to be a wealthy merchant before the feudal lord of that time gifted him with lands, and it was not until his eldest son took up arms that the clan engaged in battle.

Uchiha Gokuro, Iroshima's son, is noted to have been a great warrior, and part of a new type of movement said to have great spiritual powers. It is in my humble opinion as a historian that these spiritual powers have been the very creation of ninja as we know it. Gokuro relates in his writings that his teacher was wise and powerful, yet strict in his ways. There are no records of his name, but he was at that time seen as a great and mighty warrior. He gave his students the power to mold their spiritual energy and in exchange, they gave him his loyalty.

Gokuro's brothers and himself included were his most loyal supporters and best students, and in exchange, their teacher honored him with the hand in marriage of his daughter. She was described to be as strong as she was beautiful, with raven black hair and dark eyes. Gokuro married his teacher's daughter, and their children were rumored to be the first bearers of the infamous Sharingan.

-Extract from A Compendium of Fire Country's Shinobi Clans-

-Foreign-

The thick, ancient-looking trees surrounding Konoha were a sight to behold. Wide branches spread, forming massive crowns that spanned tens of meters and rose up to twice that size, twisting in every direction. The flittering sunrays outlined evenly distributed leaves on each branch; they were all the same from stalk to tip. Same size, same color all year long. No matter what other deciduous trees did, the Konoha forest was unaltered by the seasonal passage. And if those weren't strong enough indicators that the woods in question weren't created by the Gods or by Nature, then the fact that all trees were almost identical would be a good place to start. The Shodai Forest was Konoha's first and simplest fortification. Whoever said that one could not hide a whole ninja village among leaves?

A Konoha shinobi, however, had no trouble finding the exact difference in an otherwise carbon-copied tree. A branch that twisted the other way, a trunk inclined just a bit more in another direction than others — all trails for Konoha shinobi to see. With time they didn't even have to look anymore. It was imprinted in their subconscious like a map; they no longer needed to check.

Itachi was sure that he could find his way home even if he kept his eyes closed. Home…he used to eagerly anticipate this road at the end of a mission. He'd go through registration already thinking what to do with his off time, hoping that he would catch Sasuke awake before he went to bed for the night, or be the one to wake him up in the morning. He'd be excited about seeing Shisui again, already planning their next training session and their talks. And Yahizui… he'd try to stay away from her, Shisui's words echoing in his head every time, but he'd get selfish and lonely, and like a moth, he would be drawn to her flame. Itachi briefly wondered if the exam was over and if she got her much-coveted Chuunin title. Did she get hurt, did she hurt others?

He sighed, forcing his thoughts away from her. This time he will keep his distance; now, in the eve of what could be the destruction or remaking of the clan, he will do everything in his power to keep her away, safe.

His foot landed on a branch as thick as a regular tree before he propelled himself further with blinding speed. Within the span of a heartbeat, he closed off the nostalgic thoughts circling in his head. Such tender considerations were insignificant; his feelings, wants, needs… none of them mattered. The world as he knew it had changed.

The meeting with the orange masked man claiming to be Madara loomed over his head as he replayed Shisui's message in his head over and over.

Shuko took over. Main family's on watch.

Itachi's gnashed his teeth, nicking the flesh of his cheek; the pain served to keep him focused. They had underestimated Shuko; he had underestimated him. He moved fast, too fast, and too effective. He used the leverage he had with the civilians to turn the affiliated shinobi relatives on his side, all in the span of a few weeks. Had he been planning this for longer than they thought, or was the civilian resentment so great? He'd hoped that Shisui could buy more time so that he—

Itachi stopped, rooted to the spot on a slender branch. Did Shuko know that Shisui was playing double agent? A chill ran down his spine. It took all his willpower to stop himself from overanalyzing the possibility and move forward. If push came to shove, Shisui could handle himself, he was sure of it. The problem was, if Shuko did suspect Shisui, then they no longer had a reliable intel source. What did he plan now that he was Leader? Itachi was sure that his uncle wasn't about to lay low with a massive weapon shipment coming his way. He would act; the only question remained, when?

He had to talk to Shisui as soon as possible. With a deep breath, he leaped to the ground and slowed down his pace. The large Konoha gates were looming before him like an all-seeing, all-knowing guardian. Once, he had been glad to see them.

"Registration number?" asked the chuunin at the gate, eyeing him like he was no different than any other shinobi coming through.

Itachi liked that, even felt inclined to smile at it, though the man would likely have no idea what the smile meant. For this man, he was a number, and though he looked him straight in the eye, Itachi had the suspicion that he was looking through him. The wonders of bureaucracy.

"012110," he said automatically and watched the brown-haired chuunin write it down in a large scroll, wait, and then look at him again.

"Welcome home, Itachi-san," he held his hand up to keep his attention and turned to rummage through a shelf next to his post.

Itachi stopped and waited patiently. His eyes drifted to the large scroll on the table, noting the neatly written registration numbers. It was an ingenious thing, one of the many useful techniques developed by the Shodai's wife, Uzumaki Mito. The scroll was part of a greater seal, its counterpart containing the name, registration number, and photo of every Konoha Shinobi. The two scrolls were connected to one another, and as the registration number was entered in the 'calling scroll,' the master scroll would provide the name and an ink reedition of the picture.

"Ah yes," said the Chuunin, turning back toward Itachi and pulling his attention away from the scroll. "You are expected in the Hokage's office as soon as you enter the village. Which is… well now."

He nodded and flickered away, reaching the Hokage tower within seconds. With pulse thrumming in his ears, Itachi waited by the large double doors. He barely took notice of the assistant that ushered him in, his mind working furiously through all the possible scenarios that could take place.

"Hokage-sama." Itachi kneeled on the floor, one fist to his chest, the other barely touching the floor. He stayed so, waiting for his leader to acknowledge him.

"Stand. I had hoped to speak to you before you got home." The Hokage paused, his age more apparent than ever through baggy eyes and stress lines. "Your uncle has taken over the clan leadership."

Itachi kept his silence. He could have said that Shisui already told him and spoken about his fears and thoughts regarding the situation. He said nothing.

"I have spoken to him, and I understand your reluctance regarding the man. He is slippery, a true politician in some sense, but dangerous." His piercing dark eyes were suddenly focused on Itachi. "Have you any information regarding his plans? Is there anything Konoha needs to worry about?"

Itachi thought of the weapon shipment that was surely on its way, of Shuko's ideals, and the speech he held just weeks before about Uchiha unity against the village. He thought of Jiraiya's war-hardened ethics, of the glimpses from Konoha's unforgiving past that the Sannin gave, and of Shisui's nearly complete Koto Amatsukami as he held the Hokage's piercing gaze. "Nothing as of yet, Sir."

"I see. Then you are dismissed. Keep your eyes open."

"Yes, Sir."

Itachi left the building with a heavy heart, the truth itching to leave his lips. He sent a summon to Shisui as soon as he was out of sight and anxiously waited for an answer. He didn't have to wait long.

Tonight, my place, said the crow in a scratchy voice.

-O-

The hours dragged on, and Itachi's head was buzzing with a million thoughts. His body screamed at him for rest, but he couldn't endure closing his eyes. He swallowed his second solder pill of the day and waited for it to kick in. Minutes later, his heart pounded faster, his mind cleared and the world became sharp once more.

He had to stop taking them, had to sleep, he knew that. The artificial boost that soldier pills gave was a double-edged sword. Used sparsely, it kept a shinobi alert during missions, stimulating their body to produce chakra and regenerate faster. The downside came the next day once the body burned off the energy. Fatigue, soreness, and headaches were some of the mild symptoms. Itachi was pretty sure he was past that, entering what the medi-nins called: the addict stage. Funny, how they created such a drug, made it available to the shinobi population— who in general was prone to neglect their welfare— and then tell them they could become addicted to it like they weren't already addicted to countless other drugs. Some warning. The average ANBU was using at least three vices and two substances to keep going; where were the medics hiding when that happened?

Itachi pushed that knowledge to the back of his head, adding it to the growing list he had to stop doing yet did anyway to hold onto his sanity. It seemed like he wasn't that much above the rest of them.

With his body now energized and his mind clear, Itachi flashed to Shisui's lesser-known and rarely lived-in apartment. His cousin had bought it over a year ago but never stayed there, the thought of leaving his grandmother alone keeping him in the compound; instead, he kept it as a secret place to bring his occasional conquests. Itachi steered his thoughts away from the last time he saw Shisui there, his nose buried between the full breasts of a pearly-eyed Hyuuga girl. He'd been rooted to the spot, all training and usual stoicism gone as Shisui lifted his eyes to look at him. Back then, he'd told himself that he didn't look, that his heart didn't threaten to bounce out of his chest, and that his breath didn't hitch as Shisui smirked at him and kept undressing the woman in his arms. That had been almost a year ago; simpler times, simpler problems. What would the Hyuuga girl say knowing that Shisui traded her for a geisha spy? She probably wouldn't care, seeing as Shisui didn't have the best reputation among the ladies or if he were to go by Ayame's words, the men.

"Good to see you're back."

Itachi turned just as his cousin flashed in the room, his narrow eyes tired, hair as wild as ever. "It looks like a lot has happened."

"Yeah, a bit too much for my tastes."

Ever one for quips. "How?"

"Even I'm not sure," replied Shisui, his hands rustling his hair. "It happened fast and clean, not at all how I imagined it."

Itachi nodded, already deep in thought. He had hoped that his father could hold his own against Shuko, but the truth was that his uncle was a far better planner than Fugaku could ever hope to be. "Shuko is not a fighter, he's a politician, a schemer. It makes sense that he'd do things differently. How much longer do you need?"

For a moment, Shisui said nothing, his eyes closing in concentration. "One week. We're looking to put the whole clan under the jutsu… it will take a lot."

"Aa. Do we have the time?"

"We don't have the luxury to ask ourselves that."

No, they didn't. Their only hope was for this plan to work as was the only possible way to save the Uchiha at this point. Even if his father were to take over the clan Leadership once more, Shuko already had everyone under his influence. It would be the birth of chaos. "How is Father?"

"I'm not sure. As far as I heard, Fgaku hasn't left the house since that night, but the info is scarce. In fact, I'm assigned to keep an eye on you."

How ironic. "And what will you report?"

Shisui paused, gaze heavy as it landed on him. "Do you doubt me, cousin?"

The question hit him like a punch in the gut. Doubt? "Never," he whispered. How could he doubt Shisui, how could he even think of—

"You seem strange… has something happened in the mission?"

His pulse accelerated, thrumming in his ears. "I've met Ayame."

Shisui's grin threatened to engulf his whole face. "Ah, of course, you have, you sly devil! And, did she let you cop a feel?" Itachi's eyes widened. "Oh, don't worry, I'm not jealous, I can share!"

He wasn't sure of what mortified him more. The ease with which Shisui insinuated that he'd touch the geisha or the idea that he was open to… sharing, as he'd put it. "No," he gritted out, putting his last modicum of self-control behind it.

"Ah, yes, yes, I know that you loooooove Hizui-chan."

How come they reached this subject? Why? "This has nothing to do with Hizui or love, or… sharing. A mission is a mission, and you should know that."

"Bah!" Shisui threw himself in a nearby chair, stretching like a cat. "All work and no play… how dull."

"Can we.. please go back to the issue at hand?" He couldn't take much more of this subject or of Shisui lounging there like he had no care in the world.

"There's not much to go back to. Now we wait. Make sure you don't do anything that might gather Shuko's interest, and I will report you're just doing your usual job as a shinobi."

"Does Sasuke know?"

"I'm not sure, but he's a bright kid. He definitely figured out that something is amiss."

"Aa." Sasuke was the last person he wanted to involve in this mess. Itachi wished he could just put him in a bubble somewhere and have him know nothing of it, or genjutsu it all out of his head.

"That… would be highly unethical, but technically doable, I guess."

He hadn't realized he'd been thinking out loud. Was the pill's effect already weaning? Maybe some sleep wouldn't be such a bad idea; unless he wanted to spew more of his thoughts. "I'll… head home."

"Stay."

Blood rushed to his head. Stay, what did he—

"You look like you need a good night's sleep away from… all of this," said Shisui, all humor gone from his tone. "Sleep here. I'll keep guard or… something."

"I'm not a precious, helpless princess to be guarded Shisui, I can take care of myself, even if I sleep." Even as he spoke, he knew that there was no fighting Shisui once he got something in his head.

"No," he said, a smirk already curling at the corner of his mouth, "you're my precious Itachi, and you look like you haven't slept in ages. Now go take a shower, I'll make some food."

Precious… what a dangerous word. He wanted to counter with something, maybe even come up with a witty remark regarding the evident lack of food in the house or Shisui's skill at ruining even the simplest of meals, but the thought of a hot shower and a safe bed was all his mind could focus on.

His thoughts quieted at long last as the hot water hit his skin, and he lost himself in the simple pleasure of getting clean. When he finally finished, there was a fresh set of clothes, clearly a few numbers too big, waiting for him. He got dressed and stepped out to the welcoming smell of unmistakably not home-cooked food. "I knew you couldn't possibly cook."

Shisui looked aghast. "What are you talking about? I slaved in the kitchen for hours to make you food, and this is my reward? Not even a thank you, or a kiss?"

Even if he could think of a retort that would be good enough to shut his cousin's mouth as heat crawled to his face. "Hmm," he mumbled, aware of how much that frustrated Shisui. He grabbed a container and began eating. "You didn't ask me about the mission," he said as soon as the sharp hunger in his stomach eased.

"I didn't think it was any of my business. Will you tell me about it?"

Normally? No, he wouldn't… wasn't supposed to. But something was weighing on his mind, gnawing at his logic and reason. "On my last day there, I saw two of them." He didn't need to tell Shisui who 'them' was; he knew. "One saw me or felt my chakra. I fled, gave all I had to get as far away as possible. He caught up, appeared right behind me, and…talked to me."

"Talked? An S-class missing-nin, and he chased you down for a chat?"

Yes, in hindsight, it did sound ridiculous. "He told me his name is Uchiha Madara."

"Ha!" Shisui threw his head back, then looked back at him and stopped, the grin dropping from his lips. "Wait, you don't believe him, do you?"

Did he? "I'm not sure."

"It's ridiculous, Madara's been dead for a long time, and even if by some stretch of the imagination he were alive, he'd be an old man. Was he an old man?"

"No, he wasn't." the straightness of his back, the way he moved… many things could be done with chakra and the Sharingan, but stopping the passage of time wasn't one of them.

You can choose to believe me or not. In the end, what are the odds? In the end, no one will believe you.

He was right. Who would consider that a man who was supposed to be dead for more than a lifetime was alive, young, and part of a newly emerging terrorist organization? "Who he claims to be plays no role… He has the Sharingan, so he's either an Uchiha or someone who took an Uchiha's eyes. And he's after me."

Shisui placed his chopsticks down and leveled him with a solemn gaze. "Killing, or recruiting?"

Itachi thought of the ease with which the man caught up to him. "If he wanted me dead, he could have easily done it. I'd say recruiting."

"Have you told anyone?"

"I just told you, but no… no one else."

"Why?" the question drilled into Itachi's brain, settling there like a rusty nail.

Why… why didn't he tell Jiraiya that there was a Madara impersonator, or even the man himself running around with a criminal organization? Why didn't he tell the Hokage more about Shuko?

Think of the world you live in, of the village, the clan.

He had been… from the very beginning, from the very first time he took a man's life, he thought of the world they lived in and how to make it better. His work as ANBU made him consider the village, its rules, and hidden viciousness, and the clan… there was so much wrong with the clan; it was like a festering wound waiting to burst and spread its sickness and venom. Their whole world was rotten, and he knew it, had thought of it. So why not tell them? "I don't trust them."

"Careful there, that's a dangerous thing to say."

"It doesn't make it less true."

-O-

The village slumbered quietly with a full moon guarding above, the night's silence broken by the occasional voices of tipsy men and women that were leaving the local bar. Civilians and shinobi mingled together becoming nothing more than people that shared a drink, a laugh, a bed. It was in such nights that the barriers between shinobi and civilians melted away, discarded for the night. No uniforms were present, and if a shinobi were to carry a weapon here and there, it was carefully hidden.

One more man walking the streets at night was not unusual, especially since he looked like just another civilian strolling home after a relaxing evening. No one trailed him and no one noticed him leave the main road, heading toward one of the few temples at the edge of the village. The night was silent and Shuko was as quiet as a mouse.

"I assume no one followed you," said a voice in the dark.

"I am not important enough to be followed," Shuko cryptically replied.

"I doubt that." The voice's owner stepped out from the shadow, leaning on his cane. "I find you very important, Shuko-dono."

Shuko lowered his head. "Danzo-sama, please, there is no need for such formalities. I am a leader chosen by the people; I have won no battle to earn the title."

Danzo motioned toward the small temple's entrance and followed Shuko inside. "Your modesty is impressive, but ill-placed, Shuko-dono. Battles come in all shapes and sizes and your clan take-over was nothing short of a spectacular battle of wills." He gestured toward a small table that already had a steaming pot of tea and two cups on it. "It defied my expectations."

"Shall I understand from this that you were spying on us?" Shuko took a seat, his back stiff.

"Observing. I act in Konoha's best interest, and it is my job to anticipate any disturbances. However, I must admit that this situation has diffused better than I would have ever expected."

The corner of Shuko's mouth rose in a half-smile, his hand reaching for the steaming cup of tea. "I aim for peace and prosperity, Danzo-sama. And of course, that can never be possible without unification."

"I sense a proposal there."

"There is much I can offer, to the Uchiha, to the village and to you. Konoha is after all my home, but the clan is my family. A divided family is unproductive and can even become a danger to the home they live in."

Danzo set his cup down on the table, the fingers of his hand slowly touching it. "You are playing a high stake gamble here, Shuko-dono. What makes you think that I would be interested in interfering with your… familial issues?"

"I am a great observer myself, Danzo-sama." He took another sip of his tea and relaxed in his chair. "Over the years, I could not help but wonder why is it that we do not have another Hokage? Why is it that the world we live in insists on rewarding acts of physical power and completely overlooks the real strength of a person? We have risen from the uncivilized era of senseless battle and built a village, set an economy in motion. It's time that we stop promoting brawn over brains."

"You speak great words, Shuko-dono," replied Danzo. "I do not say that I disagree, but such is the status-quo, and short of a revolution, there is nothing much to be done about it."

He moved slowly, rising from his casual position and leaning over the table as the shadows deepened the sharpness of his features. "Revolution is just another name for change, for evolution; Konoha deserves that."

"And who would you propose would take such an important task? You?"

A smile spread over Shuko's lips, the humor never reaching his eyes. "Not at all, I could never presume such a thing. But you, Danzo-sama have served this country for countless years; I think you deserve more recognition, and a united clan would, of course, think the same."

"Your lips speak of treason, Shuko-dono," said Danzo, leaning dangerously close to Shuko. The shadows seemed to move with him, gathering around the small table. For a second, Shuko did not breathe as Danzo's uncovered eye pinned him. "But," he drew back, the oppressive atmosphere dissolving with the motion, "these are just words. Such partnerships need more than that."

"Ask, and you shall receive."

Danzo gestured toward Shuko's dark eyes. "I must admit that I was always fascinated with the Sharingan." With one flick of his wrist, ten teens formed from the shadows. "I have people from almost every Konoha clan. They each play their part in protecting Konoha's foundations, independent from any political influence." He pinned Shuko with a meaningful look, his one eye challenging. "I would be honored to have an Uchiha join my ranks."

Shuko's hand tightened on his cup. "I always wondered, how do you keep your soldiers so loyal?"

"If you are wondering how I can be sure one of your men will stay loyal to me, then rest assured Shuko-dono, I have my ways."

"I would be honored if you'd tell me… one day." Shuko's half-smile was well fixed in place, unyielding under pressure. "In any case, I have just the one for you."

-O-

Yahizui awoke gasping for air, her arms flaying about. Sweat drenched her body, soaking into the thin covers and sticking them to her skin. Her breath was labored as she felt for the light switch, unable to bear the darkness. She'd dreamt of him, of his beady eyes wide with surprise and pain, of his voice croaking accusations at her. She rubbed her eyes, pushing on them until she saw nothing but stars.

What would her parents say when they saw her now? She tried to bring forth their memory and clung to it until she felt her pulse slow down. Her mother used to calmly state that death was a part of life, but Yahizui wasn't sure the same philosophy transferred to killing other people. And her father? He'd been a shinobi, so would he understand? Her head dropped, chin touching her clavicle. It didn't matter even if he did understand; even if he'd tell her it was all right, that it was justified… she knew it wasn't.

She pushed her hands through her tangled hair, pulling at it until all traces of sleep evaporated. The room's walls seemed to cave in on her, its yellowed walls and ventilated air unbearable. Her hands shook as she pulled her boots on, not bothering with a cloak or weapons; she just had to get out. The air in the hallway was just as stall, artificially ventilated to make it cool; it was suffocating. With rushed steps, she marched on toward the front door, ignoring the large sign telling the participants it was dangerous to go outside alone. The desert scorpions that roamed the streets were hard to see in the dark and deadly to foreigners, but Yahizui needn't worry about them; she didn't intend to stay on the ground long enough to encounter one.

Within seconds she was on the building's rooftop with nothing but the clear starry sky above her. Yahizui took a deep breath, filling her lungs with the crisp desert air and relishing in the silence of the night. She crouched low, tensed the muscles in her legs, and leaped, enjoying the short moment of weightlessness before she silently landed on the next rooftop. She jumped from building to building with no real goal in mind, glad to be outside.

The Sunagakure buildings were all the same; cylindrical structures that rose to four or five stories, crowning with terraces that held the familiar-looking glass pyramids that all desert dwellers used to capture the morning dew. She stopped here and there, admiring the thriving plant-life that grew in these little man-made universes. The Gods gave and the Gods took, but it was up to men to make the best of the hand they were given. Yahizui was sure that no one knew that better than those calling the desert their home. She took one last deep breath, ready to backtrack to the contestants' dorms when a high pitched scream pierced the night's silence.

Was that…a child?

She ran toward the sound, somersaulting from the building's balcony and pushing chakra in her legs to flash to the next, racing toward the broken sound of a child's voice. Yahizui gripped for her sword and swore when she grasped at nothing but air. All she had were two kunai she kept hidden in the inner lining of her boots.

Those will have to do.

Within seconds the rooftop where the scream originated came into view, and just before her feet touched the railing of a nearby building, she saw a crimson-haired little boy not older than Naruto hugging his small body and crying. A few steps away from him lay the unmoving body of a man and behind him… was that sand?

The boy let out a wretched scream that tore at her heart, his small hands burying in his hair. She tensed her legs, ready to jump when a wave of malevolent chakra burst through from the boy's crouched frame.

That feeling… she knew it.

A/N: Shit is going down!

Reviews are my fuel!