A/N: A million thanks to all of you who take the time to read, fav, follow and comment on this story! We are reaching the end of Book 1, and while I know it's not a happy end, it's just a temporary pitstop. The story will go on.

I would also like to take the time to clear some things that several readers have pointed out. Itachi is not Shuko's son. I was not very clear with that in the text, but Shuko was messing with Itachi's head. He's not his biological father, just an asshole.

Now with that out of the way, I hope you are all healthy and holding on strong during these crazy times? Yes, good! Then let's get on with the drama!

War brings about chaos and destruction. A ninja war even more so. But men's memories are short, or they are simply ignorant of the mistakes of the past. And so war comes to pass again. After the First came the Second, and soon from the ashes of that rose the Third. Many lives were lost, countless were ruined, and yet the world of ninja learned nothing.

It is as if the spiral of power and hate threatens to go deeper and deeper until we take everything down with it. In my darkest hours, as the screams of the battles still ring in my ears, I sometimes think that it would be better that way. The Gods did not intend for simple humans to hold as much power as the shinobi do. Maybe it is better if we all just… disappeared.

-The ravings of a shinobi historian-

-Vermilion-

-Yahizui-

Chakra signatures blipped out of existence like squashed fireflies. One by one, sometimes two at a time, they disappeared, making Yahizui's heart beat anxiously in her chest. Whatever happened, it was bad and as much as she wanted to barge in and do something about it, the situation was too much for her to handle alone. She suppressed her presence upon reaching the compound's main entrance, silently slipping through the unhinged gate.

Alarms rang in her head, urging her to turn tail and run. Only once in her life had she encountered such a chakra before: dark and insidious, burning her senses and freezing the breath in her lungs. It reminded her too much of Orochimaru's overwhelming power, while being so much more.

She should fall back, wait for backup, go to the Hokage and inform him that one squadron was by far not enough to deal with this threat. Yahizui shifted, ready to bolt.

"Little girls shouldn't be out so late."

She froze. The signature that had been by the Police Station just a moment ago stood right behind her. How did he move so fast?

Instinct took over, and she flashed to the other side of the yard, her sword drawn. Behind her, the Station was devoid of life, the coppery stench of blood crawling up her nose. Yahizui's eyes narrowed at the masked man before her. If he were to attack her, she'd have no chance, but she could stall and hope that Naruto had delivered the message to the Hokage.

"Who are you?" she asked, putting as much bravado in her voice as she could.

"That is not important and quite boring. What I'm dying to know is, who are you and what are you doing here?"

He was deflecting. No matter, as long as he kept talking it was fine with her.

"I came to visit a friend." She wasn't about to tell him she sensed the Uchiha being murdered from her bed, on the other side of the lake.

"And does your friend have a name?"

"I-Izumi," Yahizui said, uttering the first Uchiha female name that came to her.

The masked man blinked out of existence before her, and before she could realize what was happening, his hand shot toward her throat, lifting her off the ground.

"I hate it when people lie to me," he growled, the single hole in his mask mere centimeters away from her face.

If she could breathe, Yahizui would have gasped upon seeing the blazing crimson of the man's Sharingan. Her fear took a step back, overpowered by the need to breathe and the instinct to stay alive. She couldn't focus on her chakra, but she did thrust her sword-hand upwards, impaling the blade in the strange Uchiha's hand. His grip slackened and with a gasp of air, Yahizui flashed away once more. He followed, appearing before her and looping a chain around her upper arm.

"Got you!"

Blood splashed her face as he pulled her sword out of his arm. He switched the grip mid-pull and impaled it into her arm, the same place she had stabbed him.

"I think you dropped this," he casually said.

Gnashing her teeth at the burning pain, Yahizui built up her chakra and pushed it out through her palm in a gale of wind. Surprise was her forte. The masked man released her, pushed away by the jutsu's force, skidding to a stop on the other side of the clearing.

Yahizui grabbed her bleeding arm and pulled the sword out. It was bad. He'd slashed her artery, and she was bleeding fast. With little time to consider, Yahizui brought her wrist to her lips and bit down hard. The euphoric rush of chakra filled her, temporarily blinding her with its strength. Within moments, it healed her.

"An Uzumaki in the Uchiha compound. How interesting," he mused, one finger touching his mask.

"What's really interesting," Yahizui countered, still high on the energy rush, "is which Uchiha are you, and why turn against your own clan?"

"Wouldn't you want to know?"

In an instant he was by her side, but this time Yahizui had stretched her senses to the maximum, doing everything to avoid the incoming strike. His weapon grazed her shoulder, but it was enough for blood to run down her arm.

"Yes…" said the masked man as he began moving around her with languid steps. He stopped after three rounds, looked high at the moon and took a deep breath. "You will die here."

He said it with such nonchalance, flooring Yahizui. It was not an assumption; it was a fact. A cold, hard fact said by a cold-hearted killer. Fear gripped her, moving through her body like a disease.

Breathe in.

Don't lose sight of him.

Focus on his chakra.

Breathe out.

Calm yourself.

"It's futile. You can fight, you can run, you can even try to trick me, but in the end, the outcome will be the same."

"If it's all the same to you," she sneered, feeling braver than expected, "I'd prefer to struggle."

"I admire your commitment," said the man and before her eyes his whole being warped out of existence.

Where was he?

His punch hit Yahizui's stomach like a sledgehammer. Blood dripped from her mouth, her insides bruised and aching. Yahizui tried to focus on her chakra, but he was in front of her once more, grabbing her hands and hoisting her body in the air. She spit in his face, pleased to see the blood and saliva drip down his horrible orange mask. A low, pitiful attempt at rebellion. The man growled and tossed her to the ground, jamming his foot on her wrists.

The crunch of shattered bone reverberated in Yahizui's head, followed by gut-churning pain.

"AAAAHHHH!" Her scream echoed through the empty buildings and fallen bodies, raw with agony. Yahizui tried to twist her body and bite herself to heal, but the masked Uchiha had pinned her by the hair, pulling her head at an awkward angle. Fear and agony darkened her vision and awakened the ancient instinct to survive. Yahizui didn't fight it, she encouraged the feeling, the itch in her veins. This was not the time to pull back.

Golden chakra chains lashed out of her back, pushing the strange Uchiha man away. She saw him pause, but there was no time to be proud. The Adamantine chains were powerful, but they asked for a lot and right now the chakra drain was too much for her to sustain, especially after she already bit herself once. Fueled by pure adrenaline, Yahizui stood, her mind focusing on recalling the chains back.

"Now that is interesting," he chuckled. "It feels almost nostalgic, though you clearly lack Kushina's mastery."

Yahizui didn't ask how he knew the fellow deceased Uzumaki. She had better things to focus on, namely the familiar chakra rushing toward them. Itachi.

Her knees almost buckled with relief. If he was coming, surely others were as well. They'll capture him and he was going to answer for the crimes he had committed here.

"Are you happy that Itachi is coming?" he mocked.

Yahizui's gaze snapped to the man's mask, her jaw clenched. He knew, which meant he either had clones along the way to alert him of someone else's presence, or was a sensor and could recognize Itachi's chakra.

"You most likely think he felt the brazen chakra flare you broadcasted earlier," continued the man, circling her with languid steps. "Maybe. Perhaps you think there are other ANBU out there who felt that flare and will come to capture me… bring me down." His voice was lowering with each word spoken, brimming with wicked inflections and confidence.

Fear, vicious and burning as hot tar, was swiftly overpowering her. He knew. He knew of her plan and he was toying with her.

"No one will come." The baritone of his voice sent sharp knives in her ears. "Your ANBU will not come, the Hokage will not come. And your savior, Itachi, is just here to clear away any witnesses."

Yahizui stood there, struck by words like whip lashes across her soul. His confidence almost made her believe the spouted vitriol, but deep inside her heart she knew better.

"I pity you, and your confidence," she retorted tartly. "You killed many people today, and now you will answer for your crimes. I know Itachi and he will never side with scum like you." Hope made her bold, and boldness made her brave. Because she knew that when Itachi got here, the vile man before her would see his last day.

"Tsk. Tsk!" he said, wiggling his finger disapprovingly. "Such language… But if you want to make such accusations, why not ask him yourself?"

The world seemed to stand still as her eyes took in Itachi's appearance. He was not yet within earshot, strolling through the trees like a thing out of a nightmare, his eyes empty, his clothes crimson with blood.

Not his blood.

She didn't even see the masked man move until he was almost past her and his voice entered her ears like daggers, dripping acid inside her mind.

"Who do you think killed the other half of the clan?" He then walked away, leaving her frozen like a statue.

Hours, days, an eternity passed until Itachi was right there, a few steps in front of her. She could see him now, in the cold light of the moon. He did not look like the Itachi she knew. His eyes were dead, as if something had sucked any shred of soul out of him. His face was pale, ashen and speckled with dry blood. The familiar chakra signature lashed around him like an angry viper, burning her skin. This was not Itachi. This…

"What have you done?" she asked in a trembling voice.

Itachi didn't answer. He looked past her into worlds unknown, and Yahizui was not even sure he heard her.

The lack of response lit a fire inside her when she thought it had all gone out. It was a wild and foreign feeling to have that fire and rage pointed at him. She looked with desperation, the pain in her wrists throbbing anew.

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?"

In the distance, the masked man chuckled. Yahizui snapped before Itachi's empty gaze. The world as she knew it was slowly coming apart in front of her, and Yahizui did not know how to keep it together. Like sand falling between her fingers, the one she loved so dearly was slipping away, moving further and further until there was an ocean of fear and despair between them.

"You should not have come here tonight."

His words hit her like a tidal wave. They were as grey and as sharp as steel, and for a moment Yahizui saw an endless abyss of anguish inside him. It was dark and writhing like tendrils of the purest black, burning, hurting, and corroding like acid. But the moment was just that, a moment; and before she could even blink it away, the pain became real, tangible and stood an inch from her, his sword buried deep in her stomach, his face devoid of any emotion.

She looked down and saw the blade before he swiftly took it out, adding her fresh blood to the already dried, crimson stains on his armor.

"W-Why?" she asked with blood stained lips and a strained voice.

"There was no other way." The anguished whisper dissociated with the wound inside her, as if he hadn't been the one to put it there.

Yahizui fell to the ground with a thud and a groan, crimson staining the cold ground. It would be a slow death as she would steadily bleed out bit by bit, hour by hour. It would be a slow death as she steadily bled out bit by bit, hour by hour. Her vision tunneled, fading as she watched Itachi walk toward the masked man. That bastard had been right all along. Itachi did this. Itachi killed them all. He killed her, and he couldn't even do her the favor of a quick, painless end. Fuck. Eyes drooping, she managed one thought, one whisper that passed through her vermillion-tinted lips.

"I hate you."

Her vision darkened, unconsciousness finally taking her.

-Itachi-

The walls inside his mind rattled and shook with each breath he took. Cracks spread among them, the entire structure holding together by mere threads. To the side, Itachi observed the damage objectively. He was removed from it all, a strange out-of-body experience that rendered him an unfeeling participant in what his body did. He'd done so many things tonight. His hands will probably never be clean again, the blood having seeped into his cells, entering his bones, marking him as a monster. The mental damage… a solid ten on the one to ten ANBU scale. Mental and emotional withdrawal was highly likely, even recommended in his case. He will have to file those memories later, lock them away in some dark corner and hope that his mind would heal.

Or… not.

It would be a fitting punishment to have himself relive and remember what happened tonight, a preparation for when Sasuke would finally put him out of his misery. It sounded almost poetic. How bittersweet it would be if he were to bring Yahizui along. Sasuke and Yahizui, the two living people he hurt most tonight, taking their revenge and ending his excuse of an existence. The idea made him smile. Maybe after enough years had passed they would write songs about it, as they did of Madara's betrayal. He hoped they didn't. It was better that he remained a dark but forgotten stain in the history of Konoha. Something never to repeat. Maybe this would make the shinobi society stop pushing children to kill. He would like that. After all, a child genius had snapped, killed everyone and then ran off to be an infamous criminal. If that wasn't a cautionary tale, Itachi didn't know what was.

"… Itachi…"

Pulling himself back into his body was like walking through plaster. He shoved cabinets closed as he went along, doing his best to reinforce the cracked and steadily crumbling walls of his mind. Breaking down would do him no service. It might make someone pity him and decide to put him down, like some rabid dog that had outlived its usefulness, but that would not do. His penance would take time, a suffering drawn out over the years. He had to live, and he had to keep his mind from falling apart.

"Yes, Hokage-sama," said Itachi in a steady, flat voice. "The mission has been accomplished and additional evidence has come to light."

"Report," he said, as if this was just another mission and Itachi hadn't slaughtered almost every man, woman and child of his clan. Maybe the Hokage's had enough practice with reinforcing his walls. Maybe he didn't care. It mattered not at this point.

"Shuko had been working together with councilor Danzo." There was no need to say anything else. The Hokage had already understood what his report meant, his wrinkled eyes narrowing.

His mission was finished, his soul damned, his report made. Itachi stood and left, taking one last look at the village he had been calling home for the past thirteen years. He joined Madara outside the village and kept up with the languid pace the other man imposed.

"For what it's worth," said Madara as they passed the outer border of the Shodai Forest, "I am sorry about the girl."

Itachi did his best to pull himself out of the crumbling fortress of his mind and looked at his companion with honest distaste. "Are you not the one that toyed with her, tormented her?"

"But I did not kill her."

"No. You had me do it."

"Ah, but you didn't. I thought there would no longer be lies between us. No one dies so fast of a stomach wound. The angle of your blade avoided any vital organs; it would take at least five hours until she bleeds out. Time in which the Konoha ANBU will have plenty of time to find her."

Panic filled Itachi, fresh and cold. He looked at the man before him and realized that if he had so wished, he could have made a clone and planted it in the forest when he was not paying attention. That clone could finish the seemingly ill-executed job this very moment.

"Don't give me that look, boy. Believe it or not, I am on your side. I had a genjutsu planted in her mind the moment she saw my Sharingan. By now she has already forgotten about me. She will live."

The knot in Itachi's stomach loosened, his stiff shoulders relaxing. He despised himself for hurting Yahizui. She, like Sasuke, had no fault in this entire mess. His brother had the misfortune to be born in the Uchiha clan, and Yahizui the bad luck of befriending him and being at the wrong place and time. He did what he had to do, nothing more. He ensured Sasuke would see him as the monster he had to kill and made sure that Yahizui had no misconceptions about his guilt. Itachi would have preferred she hadn't been there, but as usual, things rarely went according to his wishes. At the very least, she was safe in Konoha.

-Danzo-

Danzo rarely underestimated people. During his long shinobi career, he had the misfortune of underestimating three. Two of them were dead. One became the Third Hokage, snatching the title from under his nose.

Uchiha Itachi was now the fourth.

He looked at the lifeless bodies lying on the street critically. Around him, seasoned ANBU were acting like genin.

"This is horrible!"

"Who could have done this?"

Danzo watched it all with a critical eye. Uchiha Itachi had swept the perfectly plotted plan from underneath his feet with the efficiency he was famous for. One look at Hiruzen confirmed that he had been well aware of the plan. Had likely issued it.

"It would seem that Uchiha Itachi is the perpetrator of this heinous act," said the Hokage. His voice was remorseful, but to the trained ear which Danzo had, one could detect the obvious lie. They had planned this together, plotted in the night. He was not against it, but the change did not work well into his plan. He went from one step away from grabbing the office from Hiruzen to gazing at the still burning remains of Shuko's house.

"Itachi has attacked Uchiha Shisui, killed him and stole his Sharingan, caused strife within the clan and ultimately murdered them in cold blood. Konoha has failed, as we have not identified this instability in him before such a heinous act took place. Bury the bodies. We will honor the Uchiha clan."

He could not lose footing. With his good eye Danzo turned towards Hiruzen, knowing that by now he had every ANBU in the vicinity listening to the sound of his voice. "This is something that a Hokage ought to know about one of his ANBU captains. He has been unstable for some time, and letting such an individual reach such peaks in the village military would make one think if your judgement is still fit, Hokage-sama."

Danzo almost smiled at Hiruzen's look. It was, if nothing else, satisfying to jab him.

"Get to work!" snapped the Hokage, gaining the attention of all ANBU in the vicinity.

The soldiers hesitated for a moment, and it was enough to make Hiruzen frown while Danzo smiled softly.

"What do you think you're doing?" asked the elderly Hokage.

"Simply stating… facts."

"You and I both know what the facts are. This wouldn't have passed if it weren't for you and your thirst for power." Hiruzen kept his voice low, but there was a steel and anger there that Danzo ignored.

"I? It is true that I normally take the hard decisions associated with your post, but this time it is all on you."

It surprised Danzo to see that Hiruzen remained impassive. Usually he got at least a reaction with a barb like that.

"Your involvement with Uchiha Shuko is out in the open. I have a testimony."

"A testimony from the man who killed his clan in cold blood and is now a missing nin? Hiruzen, whoever do you think would believe that? As long as you have no hard evidence, that testimony holds no weight in a martial court." He had been playing this game longer than Hiruzen had been Hokage. Danzo knew the rules too well.

"And yet," countered Hiruzen through clenched teeth, "all I need to suspend you from function are three signatures." He pulled out a scroll with his signed name, followed by Homura's spiky script and Koharu's flawless calligraphy. "I suspend you from your function as Konoha councilor. I have rescinded all rights and privileges associated with the position. Consider yourself retired."

Danzo gnashed his teeth, holding back the anger threatening to burst out. "This is not over, Hiruzen. You cannot force me down, no matter how much you try."

The Hokage had already turned around and began walking further into the body-littered compound.

"Sir."

Danzo turned toward the muffled voice of his agent. "Report."

"My team took the liberty to act before the other ANBU caught news of it," said the man in an even tone. "There have been two survivors, sir. One was Uchiha Sasuke, who is already in the Hokage's custody. The other is the Uzumaki. She is currently in the HQ infirmary. She is gravely wounded, but she lives."

A smile as cold as a winter night and as sinister as a moonless sky spread over Shimura Danzo's face. His luck did not completely desert him. "You did good," he said.

Yes, not all was lost. He will regroup, wait in the shadows for the right moment, build up his strength. And with her finally in his grasp, that seemed more real than ever.

-Itachi-

Numbness had taken over Itachi, and he was glad for it. As the first sunrise of his life as a missing nin peeked over the horizon, Itachi was empty. His thoughts had quieted for the first time, his feelings locked away. The muscles in his shoulders had relaxed, exhaustion and chakra depletion making him lethargic. Itachi's instincts, however, screamed at him to stay on guard, which was likely the only thing keeping him awake.

By his side, steering the gently swaying boat, stood Madara.

"I must ask you to keep my identity a secret. In fact, not considering the official leader of the Akatsuki and his partner, you are the only one to know of my true identity. It is best if it remains that way." His low voice was loud in the early morning silence.

Itachi nodded, half listening. Secrecy and mistrust were not uncommon, especially among the type of people the Akatsuki had in their midst.

They were in the middle of a large lake now, and Madara gently rowed the boat over the waters with rhythmical movements. Suddenly he stopped and Itachi watched as he pulled at the impressive mane of black hair he had, revealing it to be a wig. His real hair was just as black, short cropped and stood out at odd ends.

"I felt like the mane would say 'Madara' clearer."

There was humor in his voice, and at any other time Itachi would have contributed with a quip of his own. Now that Itachi was dead, left behind in Konoha among the many other dead bodies. All he managed was a quick "Hn."

"Amid Akatsuki I am known as Tobi," continued Madara, undeterred by Itachi's lack of participation. "I am an unlikely recruit of little importance. Hold that appearance."

Once again, Itachi nodded, feeling bits of his past pour into the water as they were sailing. Behind him was Itachi of Konoha, ahead was the missing nin Itachi, and he was a man of power, a man not to be crossed. Slowly, with each movement of the oars, he was constructing the image of his new self. The new Itachi would be a silent man, a taciturn man of few words and steely looks—which was really close to the old Itachi, so it will come at no cost to keep appearances. The new Itachi would also be a man that kept comrades at a distance and intimidated the rest. People would fear the new Itachi. They would all be aware of his strength, yet none could guess its real depth, adding to the sentiment of terror.

He spent half an hour building the new Itachi in his mind, rounding him and his past up to create a convincing image. Then, comfortable with his new persona, he turned toward Madara.

"How do you hold the loyalty of so many disloyal men?"

"Since when has ruling the world not been enough?"

Itachi half raised his eyebrow at the evasive answer. The old Itachi would probably enter a debate about right and wrong, would probably outline how such a cause would bring upon ruin to the world. He would have never even had this conversation. But he had left behind the old Itachi and his new-self found such discussions normal. "If that was all it took, then they would not be missing nin. They have all broken their oaths for a reason. What makes you think they will not break it again?"

"Impossible as it may seem in a world where loyalty means nothing to these men, I have my reasons to believe that none of them will betray me."

The answer was not an answer at all. Itachi filed that away, adding it to his future conversation arsenal. Dodging a question like that would surely prove useful in the future.

"We're almost there," said Madara, as he pointed to the approaching shoreline.

Itachi could see two figures waiting there, as still as statues.

"Those are Pein and Konan. Listen to him, be polite to her and you will be fine. They will make preparations for you to be introduced."

The words registered to him as if through fog as they approached the two figures waiting by the shore. They were dressed in high collared cloaks as dark as the night, with a pattern of blood-red clouds.

The man called Pein was tall, with spiky copper hair and many piercings on his face. His partner was a kunoichi with a stone-set look and striking blue hair. They both nodded to them as they pulled the boat ashore.

"Welcome, Uchiha Itachi." Pein was the first to speak, and his incredible eyes intrigued Itachi. They were of a faded purple, all the way to the white of the eye and ringed with concentric lines of black.

Recognition dawned upon him as he recognized the pattern from an ancient text he once read. This was the famed and incredibly rare Rinnegan, an ability that was rumored to have only belonged to the Sage of Six Paths, and forever lost ever since. If this was one method through which Madara kept a band of missing nins in their place, then Itachi had to admit that he chose well.

That night, as he received the very complicated initiation procedure, followed by a heavy cloak and an inscribed ring, Itachi allowed himself to embrace the new persona he had filled himself with. And as he laid awake in a hard, lumpy bed, twirling the ring in his hands, he allowed himself to forget his previous life.

"The Vermilion Bird…" he said contemplatively, reading the inscription on the red gemstone of his ring.

It was a beautiful thing, sturdy and massive. The stone itself was of a deep red, like the color of his Sharingan, like the color of her hair…

With a sigh, Itachi placed it on his finger, accepting that there would always be some things that would remind him of his past life.