XXX

Itachi Uchiha

Over and over again, his blade carved through body after body in the Uchiha district. His face grew more and more red with the blood of those he killed, his clothes more and more blood-logged.

Until, like every time, Fugaku Uchiha stood before him.

His Mangekyo Sharingan were in full force, and Itachi felt the greatest bit of hesitation as he was forced to stop before him. This was the man who had trained him for much of his early life, the chief of the police. Besides Itachi and Madara, there was no doubt Fugaku was the strongest and most gifted of the Uchiha still alive.

"Itachi... what lies beyond this slaughter?"

His son let his own Mangekyo form in his young eyes. "This."

"I see..."

He evaporated into smoke, and worry filled him-

-even as he real self felt the same uncomfortable sensation, knowing the outcome already. How many times am I going to have to relive this within myself? Am I this content on torturing myself?

He went to his family home in the empty streets, picking off any and all survivors without bias or hesitation. It was all apart of the plan- the plan for peace for the Leaf Village. Even if he was having to conspire with the village's greatest enemy and keep it a secret from the Third Hokage...

Who was I spying for, again? Myself? Sarutobi? The Akatsuki?

"Over here." The voice came from his father's quarters, calm and patient. "There are no traps. Come inside."

And both young and old Itachi opened the door to his kneeling parents, awaiting their execution with the same demeanor as they would waiting for a bowl of ramen at a restaraunt. Their backs were to him, but he could see his father's face bowed and resigned.

"I will not engage in a deathmatch with my own son."

He's... not going to fight back? the Itachi of then thought, almost delirious with guilt, agony, and sense of duty. His Mangekyo Sharingan, that he was so confident would be able to control the Nine Tails? His greatest gift? He'll just let it die like that?

Even now, he didn't fully understand his father's sacrifice.

"Itachi, promise me this. Take care of Sasuke."

The words pierced the heart of both Itachis, like every time. Tears began to stream down their face, spilling onto the sword that had now been turned into an executioner's axe-

"And you failed me."

Fugaku and Mikoto Uchiha stood up and faced him, their faces dripping with contempt. "You didn't take care of Sasuke."

"Wha-"

"You let him be taken away by Madara Uchiha. You lied to elders, who you killed us for. You lied to Sasuke about what truly happened. You failed!"

"I-I-"

Fugaku grabbed him by the straps of his ANBU uniform, pulling him within an inch of his face. The older Uchiha's Mangekyo flared, their irises burning deep into his own tear-stricken ones. "You bastard son of mine... what have you done tp our legacy?"

"You failed us, Itachi," Mikoto said blandly, coldly. "Could you not carry out the one thing we begged of you before you killed us?"

And to his horror, their skin began to decay and sag off their bones, the putrid flesh sloughing off onto his uniform. His voice was caught in his throat, the terror could not escape his lips. This was not like every time-

"YOU LET HIM GO!" Fugaku's skeleton roared, the blood-red irises the only bit of flesh left on his skull. "YOU'VE DESTROYED EVERYTHING WE DIED FOR!"

"YOU FAILED!"

The bones collapsed before him into a pile, and his sword tumbled out of his hand as both went to his head. No no no no-

YOU FAILED.

No No No No-

YOU FAILED ALL OF US.

NO NO NO NO-

"KILL ME-!"

Suddenly, there were no skeletons of his parents before him. He was upright in a cot, a small green plant on a bedside table right next to him. A warm trio of candles burned in front of him on a dresser. He felt himself- no ANBU breastplate, but his usual navy armor mesh.

The door to right was pulled open, and a man he did not recognize enter, cigarette in his mouth. "Holy shit," he said with some bemusement. "You're alive."

"Where am I?"

The newcomer pulled up a chair off to the side and dug into a satchel at his side, intently looking for something. "Hoshigake Village," he grunted as he searched, the words a little muffled around the cigarette. "Your partner brought you to me for healing."

A rush of gratitude went to Kisame, but he was not ready to be comfortable yet. "And?"

"And what? Aha." A small capsule was clutched between his fingers, and Itachi was quick to recognize it, though he could see in the other's face a relief he did not have to answer.

"My pills." At least this confirms Kisame brought me here.

"Your pill bottle," the other corrected. "Whatever was inside before was bottom-tier garbage. Kept telling those little technology freaks back in Kirigakure nothing is ever going to be a natural cure, but nooooo. Tch- fools." He shrugged and handed the bottle to Itachi, who tentatively took it. But even as his fingers closed around it, the bottle nearly slipped from between them. He quickly did a double-take and caught it with his whole hand, but he could feel his fingers trembling.

My muscles... they're...

"I was afraid of that," the herbalist said a little sadly, taking the cigarette from his mouth. He looked at Itachi full on, and Itachi could see the same markings Kisame had under this one's eyes. It struck him odd he'd never expected Kisame's kin would look so similar to him... nor that they would have such friendly faces. "I've been drip-feeding you the solution in that bottle, but it's no cure. Whatever you got, son, it's beyond anything that can be cured."

A little bit of his stomach curled uncomfortably, and his fist around the bottle tightened. "What will this do for me, then?"

The herbalist's face brightened. "More than that crap you were taking before, for sure. That other thing was barely holding your internal organs in check from collapsing. What this little concoction has will do much more: not only will your body function as good as it did before the disease took grip, but it'll slow the disease's progress almost entirely for about two days after taking it."

"I just made you the Elixir of Life, pal. Thank me later."

"My muscles."

"Ah... yeah..." The cigarette went back into mouth, keeping the smoke in between them. "An unintentional side effect. I guess fate plays it cruel, huh? Hehe... sorry, bad joke. The solution will stop your disease, but your muscles aren't going to like it."

A bit of irritation bubbled up from the man's explanation. "'They aren't going to like it?' What does that mean?"

The other sighed, rubbing his temple. "The hard part of the job is always telling the bad news, not finding the cure," he grumbled more to himself. He folded his hands under his chin and leaned in. "Look, Itachi. What's in this bottle is going to save your life, make no mistake. But will you be able to continue being a shinobi? I'm not sure. Not with the way your muscles will waste away."

"Now look, they're not going to stop you from basic tasks! You'll be able to walk and pick things up afterwards, but doing extreme movements will... decline in precision... jogging might..."

The words slowly faded out of his head, the sentences losing focus. I won't be able to be a shinobi? But how will I be able to get to Sasuke, then? I'm going to have to kill Madara for him, that much is clear now. But if I can't fight, then...?

What is this going to mean for me?

"Err... let me fetch Kisame for you," the herbalist said hastily, stepping out the room. Itachi hardly noticed, nodding in understanding a full minute after they had left the room. His chest suddenly felt hollow of sustenance, even as he could feel the healthy movements of his organs inside him. He suspected he ought to have felt relieved, even grateful to this man he did not know for providing a solution not even the darkest medical minds could find an answer to.

But it meant nothing if Sasuke wasn't going to fall into the darkness.

YOU FAILED ALL OF US.

He winced, holding a shaking hand to his temple. Do I really hate myself this much? he thought with the smallest touch of scathing sarcasm. That I would continue to punish myself like this so many years after the fact?

I don't know. What have I ever known, really? Not even the way to save Sasuke. I've driven him to this, and soon I won't have a way to take him out of it.

"Itachi!" The door was almost blasted off its hinges as Kisame's strapping frame entered the room, the herbalist's angry face right behind him.

"K-Kisame," Itachi murmured, forcing a smile. He looks well, at least. "Thank you for bringing me here."

"Ah, don't worry about it," Kisame said proudly, taking the chair the herbalist had sat in before and pulling it close to Itachi's side. "I'm just grateful you're alive. Do you feel well? What's the story with a cure?"

Itachi's eyes darted to the herbalist, and the anger faded some. "I'll give you two a minute, shall I?"

"Please." The door slid shut, and Kisame looked at his partner questioningly. Itachi sighed. "This will stop my disease, yes... but if I take it, my muscles are going to deteriorate to a level I won't be able to battle as a shinobi anymore."

The other's face was blank. "Huh? You? That's ridiculous, there's no way-"

"But it is," Itachi said a little curtly, putting the bottle next to the potted plant. "This is how it for me now. I doubt the old medicine would even work anymore. I feel fine... but I've never felt more unfine at the same time." His hands trembled on his lap, out of frustration or despair, he did not know.

Kisame's small eyes were curt. "So you're going to give up, just like that?"

"You have a miracle solution?" Itachi replied dryly.

"No! But... at least stand up, would you? That depressing face of yours could do with leaving this room."

The usual wisecracks didn't feel as impactful as they used to, but nevertheless he swiveled his body out of the cot. His bare feet rested upon the wooden floor, which was cold and sent a chill up to his body. He frowned, urging his body to stand fully. His thighs trembled, and for a moment he thought he would fall-

"Here." Kisame's arm grabbed his own, steadying him. "Come on."

He finally stood after many days at last, his body holdings its weight comfortably. There was no uncomfortable sickness or disorientation, just a sense of... peace. Relief maybe? The dread wasn't so poignant anymore, but it was still there.

YOU FAILED ALL OF US.

He shook his head. "What's it like outside?" he asked, looking around for a window that wasn't there."

Kisame grinned. "Oh, the perfect question I wanted to hear. Step out... and let's spar."

"What? Did you not listen-"

"Oh I did. This is perfect! Finally, I'm going to have a chance at beating you one-on-one!"

A real smile finally cracked his face. "First thing you want when I wake up from a coma is to fight? You're a different breed, Kisame."

The other laughed, lowering his head through the door frame. Itachi stretched, feeling his body like he hadn't in so long. He stepped out the doorway-

"Ah, one more thing." The herbalist tapped him on the shoulder, and he turned. But what he thought had been his finger was not it at all. He frowned at what had hit him.

"You're not serious."

"I may have made the Elixir of Life, but I got nothing in my belt about eyes, friend." He shrugged, the cigarette bobbing. "Might as well get used to them. I'll even insult you so you feel really attached to them; go gettem, four-eyes!"

XXX

Kisame stared at him from across the field, not even bothering to hide his shock. "You look ridiculous."

"Let's just fight," Itachi said flatly, readjusting the glasses on the bridge of his nose. Having the unprecedented weight on them wasn't too bad, but how was he meant to keep these things during a fight-?

He bent his body backwards, blinking as Kisame's fist swung narrowly over the tip of his nose. He completed the movement, flipping onto his fingertips and pushing himself further back onto his feet once more. His fingers rushed to the front of the small lenses, which had only just started to slip off his nose.

The other chuckled, bringing his outstretched arm back to his side. "Well, at least that proves it'll stay on, right?"

"You didn't even say start," Itachi replied, although inside he felt the urge to laugh. He's really doing his best to make it seem like nothing has changed. But a lot has... for both of us. He's acting different, too. What's happened to him?

"I'm out here to win, remember? Since when is an actual fight going to have a start button?"

Some of the village residents were gathering to watch, coming away from a large gathering by the lakeside to watch them. He flicked his gaze back to Kisame- a fully recognizable Kisame, no longer a somewhat distinguishable blur.

Kisame cocked his head, smiling. "You better turn on your Sharingan, or this is going to end messily for you."

He closed his eyes. I might as well see how far I can push myself like this. As he opened them once more, the three tomoe reflecting pointedly.

His partner and opponent clapped his hands together. "Much better! Water Style: Water Shark Bomb Jutsu!"

From the lakeside, a swirling torrent of water erupted out in the shape of an enormous shark, its jaw japing. Itachi's attempted to make the usual fast burst of hand signs, but his left hand twitched painfully and broke the sequence of seals-

He dodged left, the shark plummeting into the grass where he had just been standing. Droplets of water splashed onto his clothes, shredding them-

"Water Style: Sharktooth Rain!"

There was no mistaking it now- each of the little droplets was a tiny shark with a needle-like edge to them. He felt one droplet graze his cheek, causing a thin trail of blood to crawl freely down it to his chin. Then he was jumping and dodging every little drop-

His leg sagged under him, spasming against his will. Two more drops tore at his mesh and into the skin, burrowing just below the surface to be painful and wet. He sat on his behind, breathing hard. I can see them, I can see all of it. But I can't move well enough to dodge them. I can't even weave the signs to make a counter-attack in good timing. A dark pit opened up in his stomach, and his confidence began to ooze down in. The physician is right. My days as a shinobi are numbered like this.

"Kisam-"

His hand shot up to divert Kisame's incoming kick away from his face, but the other did not relent in the slightest. Another kick shot out for his left cheek, and he ducked below it before sweeping his foot under the other. Kisame jumped to avoid it, but it gave Itachi enough time to roll off his rear-end and get back into standing-

Just in time to receive another fist from the other. "Come on, come on!" Kisame taunted, keeping up the onslaught as Itachi blocked and diverted the assaults, his Sharingan tracking every move easily. "Don't let up just yet!"

Itachi grimaced, feeling the muscles in his right arm begging to relax-

Kisame brought his fist right into it, the impact shaking the muscle and bone like a ringing bell. Itachi recoiled, but his partner still did not relent. The attacks kept coming, and Itachi forced his limbs to react and keep up, even finding time to keep the glasses from shirking off the bridge of his nose-

A long sweep of Kisame's arm was the opening he was waiting for, the Sharingan watching it come in slow motion. He grabbed Kisame by the forearm and heaved with all his strength, pulling the larger man off his feet. His body swung over the Uchiha's head and slammed onto his back onto the grass. There were some calls of awe and praise from the crowd at the move, put off by the sudden reversal in fortune of battle.

He released Kisame's forearm, but he pulled his hand away wet and bloody-

The body dissolved into water, and once again he could see every little droplet was in the tiny shape of a shark. He leaped back, not even needing the Sharingan to recognize the tactic-

From the lake, Kisame emerged upon a spout of water, pulled high into the air. He wasted no time with taunts anymore, his face tight with concentration as his hands worked fast to complete a long series of signs-

Something big. I have to make a quick jutsu. As if hearing his own thoughts, his fingers tightened and became stressed. He grit his teeth. I have to do this. Work for me. We've done worse-

I've been worse.

"Fire Style: Fireball Jutsu!"

The large ball of fire left his lips and slammed into the water spout, collapsing it from under Kisame. The other stumbled, the long sequence broken as he was forced to jump into the air-

Itachi could see him making a new series of signs, and again he forced his hands to act. "Fire Style: Phoenix Flower Jutsu!"

The Sharingan saw his face scrunch up in frustration at the incoming projectiles of fire. Itachi felt at his side for his shuriken pouch and drew out six more, clutched tightly in his hand as Kisame struggled to get around the small flames.

"Fire Style: Phoenix Flower Jutsu!" The balls did not shoot out at Kisame this time but instead hovered before him for a moment as he flung the shuriken at the other. Kisame had hardly landed before he could see the ignited metal piercing straight for him, and all he could do was raise his arms in front of him to block the worst of it. Three imbedded themselves deeply into his forearms, while a fourth struck him in his exposed midsection. The impact sent him stumbling back-

By which time, Itachi had sprinted the distance and curled his fist back for the final blow, even as his arm complained-

I've been in worse places than this.

. His hand shot forward, the red ring honing in on the other's forehead-

And stopped just short. Kisame was breathing hard, still towering over him but his aura greatly diminished by the fight. Itachi found himself breathing even rougher, but it was more out of plain exhaustion than any lingering pain in his lungs. It was like when he had been a young boy, before the massacre- tired after a long day of training under his father's guidance.

He touched the ring to Kisame's forehead lightly, and the other's labored breathing turned into a chuckle. And as he chuckled, it got louder and louder, until he was openly laughing. A happy laugh, a relieved laugh, and before Itachi knew it, he was laughing, too.

When was the last time he had laughed like this? When Sasuke had gotten stuck in his own hunting trap? When Izumi had told him the joke about the monk and the samurai?When Father had told the embarrassing story of how he met Mother? It seemed like a different life, because it was a different life, before he had made the decision for himself to end his innocence and accept a life withdrawn to shadows and repentance.

"To hell with what the herbalist said," Kisame finally broke in after they had laughed themselves into silence before the bewildered onlookers. "You're not out of this yet. Not by a long shot. Your spirit just doesn't know when to quit, even when your body does."

"I could say the same for you."

"Nah." Kisame waved the return away. "You're far stronger than me, Itachi. Body and spirit. Mind, too. But I'm alright with that. You have a goal, and it may not be a goal I understand all the way, but it's something I want to help you fulfill."

The Sharingan faded. "Why go to that length? To go against Madara will mean defying the Akatsuki. Isn't this what you've pledged your life to?"

He sighed, and again Itachi could feel that something had shifted inside the other. No dojutsu was needed to see that. "I've lived my life so complicated," Kisame said slowly after a moment. "Because the world is complicated. But the more I've tried to understand it and live by its every rule, the worse I've seen to become. I... need to stop lying to myself, and to others about that."

"I want to be happy again. Truly happy, not a lie I keep telling myself. And to do that, I have to stop living such a complicated life." His right hand went to his left and took from it the blue ring given to him by the Leader. "I need to live simpler... and there's no simpler way to start than helping a comrade fulfill their wish."

It was almost like a different person stood before, or that a different soul now inhabited his partner's body. But no, this was certainly Kisame, down to the blue skin, gills, height, and painted nails. And despite himself, Itachi felt moved by his dedication to him. Not only had he saved Itachi's life, but he was swearing to help him live it.

"Thank you." He took off his own ring and put it into his pocket, and Kisame mirrored his movement. "Thank you."

Kisame gave a single nod, but then his face turned towards the lake. "But before we do that... I have to ask a favor of you."

"What?" he answered, surprised.

"Cheer for me in the ritual."

"Ritual?"

Kisame turned back, grinning apprehensively. "I'd be lying if I said I only wanted to spar you to shake you out of that depressed face. Truth be told, you couldn't have woke up on a better day. Now I'm all warmed up."

Itachi shook his head. "Warmed up for what, Kisame?"

The other pointed to the center of the lake, and his eyes followed from behind the glasses. There, standing on their own pillars of gushing water, were five elderly people. Standing right before them was the original large crowd their onlookers had stemmed from.

And in the elders hands was Samehada.