Rai paced back and forth in the war tent, letting his fingers run flatly back and forth atop the flames in a burning oil lamp. "I don't have to say it, but I will. We suffered a great loss today."

Outside, the groans and cries of the injured and dying filled the air from Senju and Uchiha alike. At the very edge of camp, one of Izuna's men shrieked at the top of his lungs. A leg threatened to turn gangrenous. After surviving having it sawed off at the knee, the poor bastard's reward came in the form of a white-hot hand covered in fire chakra touching the wound to cauterize it.

Every scream, Naka punctuated by shutting his eyes and twisting his fingernails into the dark, blood-soaked earth. He was only fifteen, but already carried a triple-digit kill count. When the wails and cries finally subsided, his tired eyes turned upward to once more gaze upon his lord.

Rai was a first cousin through his mother's side to Madara and Izuna. He would therefore remain third in the line of succession until either one of Tajima's sons became a parent. It was still possible for Rai to take lead, in other words. And that was why Naka knew better than to voice any animosity or ill words toward him.

"But I don't understand why," Rai continued to growl. Every once in a while, he lifted his own head to glare accusingly toward his four-man cell. "I promoted each of you to a personal lieutenant's rank. You came from middle-ranking nobody families and I specifically chose you because I saw your potential. You proved your potential. And yet…"

The way they'd proven themselves was deplorable. Were Madara to find out his cousin intentionally ordered his squad to do whatever it took to "maximize the sharingan's potential," he'd be horrified. Neither he nor Izuna realized Rai had the mangekyo sharingan. It would be that much worse if they discovered his top three subordinates did, too.

Such was the criteria to be a planet to Rai's sun.

Naka never bothered to ask the others what atrocities they committed to earn their eyes, but he suspected the answers would be every bit as deplorable as his own. At night, when the battlefield turned quiet, he could still hear it: his elderly father's pleas for the madness to stop…and Rai egging him on as he held the old man down.

"Despite everything, we still lost." Rai knocked over the lamp, watched the flames grow for a split second, and snuffed it out as though it'd been alive. "You aren't trying hard enough! I ordered you to trade your humanity for these eyes and you obeyed. Tomorrow…tomorrow you'll see the full extent of what those eyes can do."

When Rai departed, he gestured for his brother to follow. "Baru. Come."

"What am I? Your dog?" Naka turned his head to hear the young man beside him grumble. Baru's face strongly resembled Izuna's, though nothing could hide the exhaustion in his eyes. "I'll come later."

"Now," Rai growled. "Unless you want to tell the entire squad how you managed to activate your–"

The younger brother winced and clenched his gloved hands tightly. "No…no, there's no need. I'm coming." His eyes turned apologetically toward the others: dead and nearly soulless.

As the brothers departed, talking a little too loudly about how their ascension was a sure thing if Rai had his way, Naka's ears picked up on something else: a faint, feminine sigh behind him. The girl couldn't be that much older than him: a year or two at most. "We're demons now," she murmured. "Rai-sama has us committing atrocities so profane that the rest of the Uchiha Clan will never accept us."

Naka stood. Now that Rai and Baru were gone, there wasn't any point in kneeling. "Naori, right?" The girl slowly nodded. "This was never about love, Naori. It's all about securing the clan."

And making a name for one's self. It was about being the best.

…

In the heart of the battlefield, Rai drew his sword against Senju Tobirama and roared like a man possessed. Every once in a while, the clash of metal upon metal rang through the night: reverberating Rai's hateful shouting with it. The other three heard him, but did nothing to help.

Naori couldn't have been more right about Rai stripping his lieutenants of their humanity. They each commanded four squads. Every time their factions reported a loss, they as captains had to select which poor comrade had to be put down as punishment for the rest.

Naka intentionally chose his weakest subordinates for that, especially those who hesitated in combat, because they wouldn't last long anyway. The most mercy he could deliver with Rai present was a quick blow, but sometimes he failed to deliver. Rai reassured him that each death became easier to commit than the last and it made his eyes stronger, but he was wrong.

Their difficulty only increased because he went to sleep seeing the faces of his murdered companions and friends. The mangekyo sharingan was the hardest thing of all to kill and the boy feared it was driving him mad…driving them all mad.

'Just like Rai-sama.'

"I've put down four of my men already," he confessed as he rolled his skewer across the campfire. Baru caught a faun earlier and agreed to split the meat three-ways. Rai never had to know. "Four." And he'd known them all since childhood. Every last one of them was a familiar face: a familiar, accusatory, pain-distorted face that refused to die.

"It's been eight for me," Baru confessed. "Fucking Senju opposition. If they'd just be polite about this and die without a fight–"

"They won't." Naori took a quick bite. The venison was still too rare. Blood dribbled down her chin, but she dabbed it away quickly with her sleeve. "We're killing our own more frequently than we're killing the enemy."

'How many, Naori?' Naka wished to ask, but didn't. All he could see was the rage building in Baru: a fiery hate the likes of which Naka had yet to feel. It was best not to feel anything at all, but–

"It's decided, then. I'm gonna kill him," Baru handed his skewer to Naori and stood. Naka saw him shake in his anger. "Fucking Rai. He isn't going to stop with our clan, you know. Ever since he figured out how to use Izanagi–"

The stunts he pulled were unforgivable. Rai turned reckless. So many of their brothers and sisters in arms died meaningless deaths, only for Rai to take it back for a few seconds and change the situation to his favor.

Rai looked like a god to Naka, but not a loving or merciful one. No; he was more like the gods of yesteryear: power-hungry, wrathful, and needlessly cruel.

"I'm sick and tired of that asshole ordering us around. We aren't slaves, Naka. And we aren't mindless subordinates blindly following a madman–and let's not kid ourselves. That's exactly what he's become. If I…" Baru's breath turned shaky as he stared the other two down.

They saw his own mangekyo. All the unholy symmetry of the pattern, like a kaleidoscope from hell itself, stared them down. "If I do this, will you two get in my way?"

…

A foul, rank smell greeted Naka in the morning. All his exhausted eyes were willing to give him was the blur he'd come to recognize as his wife. Another moist, hot cloud of Naori's morning breath touched his face. Feeling ill, the man rolled over and left the bed, doing all he could to ensure he didn't wake her up.

Downstairs, he heard the static and tinny sounds of a radio broadcast. Judging from the melodramatic tone of the male speaker, he suspected his daughter was listening to Secret Scroll. As his ears were occupied by the low and sonorous sound of a man acting his heart out over the speakers, Naka's nose caught the scent of steamed vegetables and rice.

Naori burned her hand on a hot pot a few months ago. Now Yuka insisted on doing all the cooking. "Yuka," Naka called out. "That's going to wake your mother. Turn it down." But she didn't hear him. "Yu-ka."

"Only two more minutes," she reassured him, "and then it will be perfect. I can't have anyone in this family eat anything short perfection, can I?"

Very weakly, Naka smiled in the direction of his daughter's blurry figure. Even with the dark, heavy makeup she wore, it was near impossible to make out her eyes and mouth. Naka tried, though.

He tried to do a lot of things. Around the time his daughter learned how to write reports; he realized prescription lenses weren't strong enough to save his failing eyesight. He had to listen to the news rather than read it—or have Yuka read it to him. Naori was the same way and used her KMPF nightstick to help get around.

If they hadn't been the Uchiha power couple of yesteryear, then maybe Kazusa-taichou would have been more insistent about pushing the both of them to retire. So long as Naka and Naori still felt they had it in them to do their jobs, they'd keep those jobs.

Naka had sworn, though. He'd sworn before Rai-sama to honor the main line until the bitter end. It meant he'd sooner die than retire. At least that was what he told his captain. In reality, he simply didn't want to saddle his teenage daughter with two stay-at-home burdens.

He heard Yuka shuffle about to sit across from him, sliding a cup of warm tea to his side of the table. "I'm going on patrol with Sanjo again today," she announced, though she didn't sound so thrilled about that. "It feels like I'm babysitting."

"You are," Naka grumbled. "Sanjo's parents didn't raise him right." Yuka sniggered, which made him smile. "Cut him at least a little slack. Would you, Yuka? That boy's family let him run wild when he was young. Now he's having to learn how to be a responsible adult."

"Feh. I have no use for excuses. I only want to see results."

'You're mine, alright. I see this in you and I'm proud.' But also, he worried. "Yuka?"

"Hmmm?"

"When Kazusa-taichou's son joins the force…when you have to see Fugaku again…" This would be uncomfortable. He'd come home after work one evening to find his daughter with her back to a kitchen cabinet: sobbing out her heartbreak because she'd been dumped. "You'll have to support him. I know you two had a falling out–"

"I'll be what you and okaa-san are for Kazusa-taichou," Yuka promised. "Whether we're a couple or not, Fugaku is going to need a reliable right hand."

…

Left handwas more apt, he felt, because of the sinister thing he'd just done. Naka panted for breath, feeling Baru's hot blood sticking to his hands. For a brief moment, he worried the Izanagi would activate again and Baru would come from behind like an angry ghost and ram a sword through his chest.

But it didn't happen. Naka waited, expecting the battle to play itself out again, but Baru never got up. He lay there with one eye blinded and the other starting to carry the glaze of death. Stray pieces of dust and dirt blew by on the battlefield. When some of the grit touched his eyeball and Baru didn't blink, Naka had his answer.

He killed a man who came so close to being their clan head. And that made him every bit as damned as the man he murdered.

For Rai and Baru, he'd thrown away his innocence. His entire family was gone, thanks to these two. His troops despised him and prayed for his death because they associated his face with everything evil and unstable. They stayed behind Baru for years, even after Izuna died and Madara negotiated with the Senju Clan to build a village. As the rest of the clan swore up and down they were too tired to continue the endless cycle of violence; Naka wasn't sure where he and Naori fit into this new world.

Rai wouldn't have and Baru struggled. Madara also struggled, but at least he was making an effort. For Baru, war was his whole life. He was born into it and he'd die by it. For once, Naka felt free: unchained and liberated. Baru had giggled like a manic girl when he murdered Rai. Naka understood why now. He'd taken out a god and become one himself.

With Madara beginning to focus more on matters outside the clan, with Uchiha's future being so uncertain–

"Naka…"

His heart pounded. Naori. Turning toward her, a smile on his lips, a similar laugh built from within. 'Don't you see? We're free now.' He expected her to smile or to tell him he'd done what was best for their squads, but all she did was sit there with disappointment and dread in her tired eyes…until she stood, sword drawn.

"If you wish to oppose me, too…"

…

Whenever Yuka competed, she strove to be the absolute best. She held her head high in pride because even the clan head recognized her as a rising star. Despite the girl's young age, Kazusa-taichou relied on Yuka more with each passing month. At this rate, she'd make a lieutenant's bars before she turned 20.

Naka liked to believe Yuka got her ambition and work ethic from him. Before Rai ruined him, he'd been the same sort of competitive spitfire. His daughter—the one and only part of his marriage he found some semblance of joy in—was his pride because she burned with the same fires he once did. But in one regard, she was her mother's child entirely.

"I still have feelings for him," Yuka confessed. "If Fugaku came up to me and asked if we could try dating again, I'd take him back. Despite all the pain he caused me, I still want him. Does that make me weak?"

Naka frowned. "I don't care that he'll be our clan head someday," unless something happened to him. "He had no right to devalue you." In his eyes, Kazusa's boy would never measure up to his baby. Chances were high that no boy in the clan ever would. Were he any younger, if he still had enough fight in him to terrorize this clan as he once did, he'd give Yuka the world…or at least the clan.

…

"Setsuna's out of control. All I can hope and pray is that you two don't sympathize with him." Their clan head was barely an adult—an insecure and cautious 22—but Naka saw Baru's tired eyes, Madara's unruly hair, Izuna's full lips, and Rai's strong jaw all on this unfortunately female amalgamation. Kazusa paced back and forth as Rai once did, but with less mania and more anxiety. She was tall, broad, and muscular: larger than some of the Uchiha men. "Do you?"

"We made an oath once, Kazusa-sama," Naori insisted as she bowed. She nudged her husband to do the same, so Naka obliged. "We're here solely at the disposal of the main line. And right now, that's exclusively you until you marry and start a family of your own. We're yours to command. Isn't that right, dear?"

Naka had no choice. That's the thing nobody realized. All choices were taken out of his hands. Those he did make—such as following Rai or permitting Baru to last as long as he did—were grave mistakes; but none were as grave as trusting his wife. As soon as he'd taken Naori's hand and accepted all the unforgivable sins he committed in the name of war and turmoil, she controlled everything.

For Rai, he surrendered his humanity. For Baru, he lost all hope. For Naori, he'd unwittingly given up his free will and he wanted it back.

Her Izanami terrified him more than anything else on this godforsaken earth. If he refused her anything or behaved in a way she disapproved of–even over petty things like cleaning the house–Naka ran the risk of being trapped in an infinite loop until he complied.

Their wedding night was only one example. Consummating their marriage left him feeling sick to his stomach, which Naori deemed unacceptable. She had him live it over again and again until he lied well enough to convince her that he enjoyed it. She wanted children, but he feared a child would be just like her.

All he could think was that it was a blessing in disguise the mangekyo sharingan would inevitably deprive them of their sight. They'd both go blind. If that future son or daughter resembled Naori, at least he wouldn't be able to tell in a few more years.

"We're your most trusted lieutenants. I had issues with Rai-sama and Baru-sama long before you were born. You, though…?" Naka gave a tired smile to the young woman. "You want to do right by the whole clan and I can see that. This isn't a personal feud between Setsuna and yourself."

"It really isn't, Naka." Despite Kazusa's large stature and sturdy size, her face still was that of an awkward girl trying to fill a role that hadn't belonged to a woman in over three hundred years. "If Setsuna does what he's threatening to do, this village will have every just cause to turn on us. We'll be worse off than we were before.

"Peace is crucial. It's essential. I understand why he's angry. Hell, I'm angry, too, but…" She pulled a stray strand out of her braid. It frizzed up into an unruly piece of black fluff. "Change will come eventually. Old wounds as deep as ours may take multiple generations to close. And yet, if we reopen them now; everything comes undone. If we want to survive, Setsuna needs to be taken down. Do you agree?"

Naori held out her sword and saluted. She agreed. What Naka privately thought didn't matter.

"I was the deadliest veteran on our side for the First Great War, taichou. My body count is in the tens of thousands." Naka reached for his sword and realized a short while later that he didn't shake or tremble at all. That part of him died a long, long time ago and he hadn't noticed. "Taking down a problematic co-captain won't be an issue." It wouldn't even be a first for him.

There was a sane and somber gratitude etched on Kazusa's face. "After what happened when Tobirama-sama became Hokage and Tenjin's sons made their move…" She sighed. "I nearly got wiped out. I can't help but wonder if it's all connected. If I sound paranoid–"

"You don't," Naori assured her. "We may be older than you, but allow us to think of you as a beloved leader. You're the clan head now. My husband and I will buy you all the time you need to become comfortable in that role."

"Plus…" Naka groaned. "I've known Setsuna for many years. So long as he's alive, you'll never be safe."

Kazusa pinched the upper bridge of her nose and furrowed her brow. "Do what you must, then. The less I know, the better. Go, and know that I have placed all my faith in you."

…

They were Kazusa's left and right hand. The only person closer to her was her husband–which was understandable. Naka carried a lot of respect for Sarani. Sarani was a good man with a level head on his shoulders. But he didn't much appreciate how much Naho could manipulate his captain. That bitch wasn't even on the force.

They were truer friends than Naho had ever been, though neither one expected Kazusa to realize that. Somewhere along the way, she stopped voicing her gratitude. Naka chose to believe it was implied rather than ignored.

They cleaned up the Setsuna mess so well that the force didn't even utter his name. All photos of him were removed and his son, Yashiro, knew nearly nothing about him. It would stay that way so long as Kazusa ruled. And if they were the lieutenants such a sane and stable captain deserved, then Kazusa would rule well into her old age. Naka was already there. His hair had turned gray, as had Naori's. He couldn't make out faces anymore and his cadets had to point him in the right direction to ensure he didn't attack the wrong person, but…

It pained him to think his daughter was hung up on Kazusa's son. "In a perfect world, he'd realize my worth; but there is no such world. I have no control as to whether or not it will ever exist."

"Fugaku has free will, Yuka; just like you. If he chooses to be an ass, that's his prerogative."

"Or you can just keep trying." His blood froze when he heard those words. Naka clammed up, distanced himself from the table, and pulled a chair for Naori out of habit. His wife graciously touched his face with her fingers and gently stroked his cheek. "Yuka, love?"

He didn't want to be present to hear this.

"In this world, true love conquers all." Naori scooted her chair closer to her daughter and pulled her into a one-armed hug. "In time, if you continue to do your best and show him how great you are, you'll see. When Fugaku joins the force in a few more months…?" She kissed her daughter's brow, pushing her bangs out of the way. "You'll have all the time in the world with him. And in time, he'll realize he was wrong about you. Once again, he'll recognize–"

Her greatness? Her potential? That she was far superior to him in every possible way? What lie was she going to feed their child next? Naka opened his mouth, hoping to correct Naori, but he could feel it.

Her eyes weren't on Yuka. They were on him.