A/N: Thank you KatieBees for beta-ing this chapter!
Third Year part 1
-Itachi-
It was the first time Itachi had seen a man die and come back to life.
Hidan was standing in the middle of a blood seal, when the last of his chakra winked out of existence. His partner, Kakuzu, sighed in exasperation and Itachi did not dare to make any other gesture. Hidan was dead, killed by his own hand. And then, one moment later, he was not. Hidan's eyes snapped open, his lips parting in an ecstatic sigh, a murmured prayer spilling from them. He was alive, and yet Itachi's sensor skills were good enough to know that mere seconds ago he had been dead.
Curious, he approached the seal. It was a geometric design, a simplification of something too complex to be used in battle. Was this the source of his power? Would killing him when the seal was not active cause a true death?
"Oi, step the fuck away from my ritual place, ya heathen!"
Itachi silently stepped back, his Sharingan already memorizing the seal. "An impressive display," he said.
-Yahizui-
"Have you ever thought about what you could have been if things were different?" She placed her hand on Dai's still racing heart, her head lifting to look at his amber eyes.
He had a recently patched up cut on his temple, a near miss that could have taken his eye out, and beads of sweat trailed over his forehead. Their mission had been hard, deadly. The desperation with which they joined their bodies afterwards had reflected that. Each bite and kiss reminded them they could feel, each moan that they were still alive, still human. And now, with their bodies sated, Yahizui could not help but think of more. The thought of leaving, of running away had haunted her every day, ever since that mission to Orochimaru's lair. Sometimes she would even imagine herself going to the Hokage, but the thought would just as easily slip her mind. She felt tethered to this place, to the other colleagues, to Dai, to Danzo. And yet, Yahizui dreamed, yearned, imagined.
What would life be outside Root?
Dai turned his gaze to the ceiling, a sigh escaping him. "Dunno. I haven't really thought about it in a long time. My life is here now." He turned to look at her, a question brewing behind his gaze. "Yours too, no?"
She swallowed the bitter taste in her mouth and pulled away from him, the touch of his naked body suddenly abhorring. "Yes, of course." She dressed, keeping her eyes averted. The man laying naked on the bed looking foreign to her eyes.
"Leaving?"
"Border duty," she lied, not bothering to check if he believed her.
She headed toward the border post and relieved the patrol of their shift, taking their post and stretching her senses. After a while, she sighed, pulling her chakra back in. Tarou was nowhere nearby.
Why was the thought of not seeing him bothering her so?
-Shisui-
His fingers drummed an irregular pattern on the polished desk, betraying the nervousness brewing in his gut.
"You must not do it," rasped Haruka. Her frame had thinned over mere weeks, blue veins protruding through paper-thin skin.
"I must, and you know it," countered Shisui, stilling.
Haruka was on borrowed time, the illness chewing away at her body, sapping more of her strength with each passing day. In the wake of her inevitable death a void would form, and Shisui shuddered to think what would happen to the okiya if someone were not to step up. It was unconventional for a man to own such an establishment, but Shisui doubted their collectors cared much for tradition. This was a chance in disguise, he thought. A chance to get a better glimpse at Akatsuki, a chance to be in control of what happened, to fully step into the role Jiraiya had thrust upon him. The twinkling sound of a child's laughter echoed in the hallway and Shisui stilled. A chance for him it may be, but for those he swore to protect, gaining too much attention from Akatsuki could be fatal.
He looked at Haruka once more, seeing the wheezing old woman in a different light. Jiraiya had told him she was loyal because she wanted revenge on Kakuzu. Shisui was sure it started that way and had wondered many times why Haruka hadn't made a move so far. She'd had plenty of opportunities to poison him, place a seal on him, or even just plain assassinate him. The monstrous former Taki nin let his guard down around her in ways that clearly implied trust. So why not take the chance? Time and time again Shisui's heart had filled with doubt and suspicion at Haruka's motives, wondering where her loyalties truly lay. And yet now, with the echo of a child's laughter still in his ears, Shisui understood. This was no longer just about him, and hadn't been just about Haruka for years. The mantle of responsibility was heavy, weighted by the lives of those in his care. If he made a mistake, the lives of those he had sworn to protect would be given up.
With that thought firmly lodged in his mind, Shisui suppressed his chakra and prepared to welcome their guests. Punctually, and dragging behind him a young, foul- mouthed partner, Kakuzu arrived at the okiya, looking tired. The man by his side kept throwing glances at the shying girls, snarling something about heathens and the sins of weaker men. Shisui held his tongue, giving Kakuzu a formal bow.
"It pleases us to receive you, Kakuzu-sama." His tone was polite, but Shisui's lone eye remained fixed on the man before him.
"Let's get this over with," grumbled Kakuzu, then turned to his partner. "If you sacrifice anyone here, not even your God will put you back together, boy. Behave."
Shisui watched the white-haired man sputter in anger, then sit down, his rosary clutched in a white-knuckled fist. Hidan, the newest Akatsuki recruit, and Kazuku's current partner. According to Itachi's information, the religious fanatic was, by some miracle of the Kamis or some forbidden jutsu, truly immortal. He was impulsive, willing to show his immortality with every chance he got, and relished in sacrificing his enemies to the God he worshiped. It was hard to wrap his head around a God giving a man an immortal life, so Shisui leaned more toward the forbidden jutsu option. That did not make Hidan less dangerous. The man was as sane as a rabid dog, and Kakuzu was the one holding the leash.
Haruka was waiting for them in her study, her body looking brittle under the formal kimono.
"You look like crap turned over," said Kakuzu, pouring himself a cup of sake. He sipped from it, his acid-green eyes fixed on Haruka. "Doesn't look like you're faking it. I can send a healer…"
"Kind of you, but it is too late. Most of us have to make peace with the fact that we can and will die. But this is not why I asked you here." She placed a slim pipe between her lips and Shisui lit the end, the sweet smoke of opium curling in his nose. These days, it was the only way she could handle the pain. "I wanted to present my successor."
"You trust him?" asked Kakuzu, his eyes still fixed on Haruka.
She did not flinch, although the air was thick with pent-up chakra and the promise of death. Kakuzu's eyes narrowed as Haruka took a long drag of her pipe.
"Like he is my son," she replied.
Shisui held his breath and filled the now empty sake cup. Kakuzu's gaze passed over him quickly, his large hand picking the cup. "As long as the payments flow, he can be whoever you want."
"Then we have a deal," she said, releasing a cloying cloud of smoke.
"I am a man of my word, you know that."
Haruka bowed her head, her spindly hand reaching for a cup. "Arata, be a good boy and fill us another round."
An hour later, Kakuzu left with the latest payment and a slight bow to Haruka. He would return in a month's time to cash in the first payment from the okiya's new keeper. Shisui's head swam with the opium fumes, his instincts going haywire.
"He didn't even look my way," he said, leaning in on the open door.
Haruka tapped the long pipe on a silver tray, the rhythmical movements hypnotic. "You sound disappointed. Were you expecting a background check?"
"I at least expected him to be… suspicious. It was too easy."
She waved him away. "You think like an Uchiha, like a Konoha shinobi. Kakuzu's interest lies with himself and money. It's a language he is fluent in, and as long as you speak it, he won't care if you're the daimyo himself. Powerful men are confident in their power to kill anyone foolish enough to betray them. Kakuzu is no exception. You and I live in the shadow of that confidence. Now leave, tell Miku to draw me a bath."
Shisui nodded, still perturbed by the entire situation. He had felt like a child listening to adults conversing. How enemies could share a cup of sake, how a cold-blooded criminal could express concern for the woman who hated him, was beyond him. With an invisible noose around her throat, Haruka had smiled, shared a drink, and made light conversation. They had spoken of the weather, of food and sake, of the blooming cherry tree in the garden, and not once had Shisui sensed any hostility. It was as if she was just paying rent and having a chat with her landlord. "Why did you treat him so?"
Haruka lifted a slim eyebrow, her thin lips curling. "Why did I treat him with civility?" She took in his tense pause, her lip curling further. "Child, you will learn in time that life, is not black and white. There are no good or bad people, there is no absolute evil. We are all men and women who make choices in life. Some good, some bad. But we each have our story and, in that story, we are the hero. And more important than that, you must never mix business with your personal life. My problems with Kakuzu are my own, the okiya and the girls have nothing to do with it. So, you play your part, understand?"
"Yes ma'am."
-Yahizui-
She couldn't say for sure what triggered it. Was it her increased sense of self, her incognito trip to Konoha, the sight of her former house? Or maybe it was the eerie silence in the empty Uchiha district and the overflowing graveyard near it. Whatever the trigger, Yahizui's memories flooded her mind like a tsunami, making her knees buckle. It was as if a dam broke. Images, sounds, and feelings ramming into her all at once, ripping an anguished scream from her lips. A gasp got stuck in her throat, frozen there in sheer panic as her heart beat a frenzied staccato. Itachi… Itachi had killed them, Itachi had tried to kill her! And Danzo… oh Kami, he tortured her, took her memories! He took her from them, from Naruto and her team, from Riruka.
Was that why no one looked for her over the years? Did they think she was dead, or worse, a deserter?
The flicker of a familiar chakra pulled her back, zapping her instincts into overdrive.
Kaito.
She couldn't see him, not like this. Her muscles reacted before she had the chance to think things through, and she flashed away from the compound and the village. She suppressed her chakra after that as she ran toward the Root barracks, focusing on her steps, on the surrounding trees, anything but the whirlwind of emotion inside her.
Yahizui stopped before the wooden gates of the encampment as a fresh wave of fear washed over her.
"I seem to have underestimated you, Uzumaki Yahizui." Ten seasoned Root soldiers flanked Danzo, their painted masks blank in the moon's pale light.
Yahizui took a step back, her thoughts going haywire as she tried to think of a way out. Fighting was out of the question. Not only was she outnumbered and outmatched, there were at least fifty other soldiers in the barracks that were bound to side with Danzo. But losing her memories again was not an option. Not after she worked so hard to bring herself back, not without Ashina's counter-seal to balance things out. There was no way out, but that didn't mean she had to lose. Not now, not yet. There was still something she could do.
"Danzo-sama," she raised her hands and dropped into a formal bow. "I am your loyal servant." The words burned her tongue, bitter like a foul poison. But something relaxed in Danzo's posture and Yahizui swallowed the bitterness gladly.
"I am pleased to see that you have not lost your senses, Yahizui-chan. Come, I believe a refresher-course in loyalty is necessary. One must not forget to whom they belong."
The re-conditioning took two days, but Yahizui endured. She felt brittle and dry after it, but nothing could truly break her now. She knew who she was, knew what her life had been. She was no longer confused, no longer searching for some meaning or another. Her shackles were clear now, no longer ghost-like bands that kept her behind. She had a reason to hold on, a reason to fight. It would take time and careful maneuvering, but she would get out, she would bring that bastard Danzo down and she would return to those she loved… in time.
