Yo, I'm back!
Thank you for your patience and generally being awesome because, people, we have crossed the 200-reviews as well as the 500-followers-mark! To celebrate this, I've thought about doing some extra: An omake, a missing scene, whatever. And the best thing? You get to choose.
So start thinking, dear people, and let me hear your ideas! :)
As always, thank you, my dear beta NightsBlackRose13, for going over this.
Chapter 13: Winds of Change
My punishment, as it turns out, is being grounded for a week.
Which is surprisingly lenient. And, to be honest, not something that crushes my whole world.
I mean, I have never been the social type since being reborn as Etsuko – since, you know, me being technically a grown woman and my peers all being, well, babies, I honestly didn't see the appeal. And that was when I wasn't suffering from several traumas. Not consciously, at least. Besides, I'd been happy with Okaa-chan and Otou-san's company and I'd never felt the need to meet anyone else.
So, it's not like there're tons of people waiting for me out there.
On any other day, I would stop to think about this sobering fact and probably come to the conclusion that I'd maybe benefit from having a few friends. Since it's anything but any other day right now, though, I don't particularly care. Actually, the isolation suits me just fine.
I'm only required to be present at breakfast, lunch and dinner and the rest of the day is at my free disposal. When Obito is not being handled, he is at my side and when he is, I spend my time grieving alone in our shared room, remembering Okaa-chan's bell-like laughter and Otou-san's proud smiles, and being generally depressed. Oh, and not to forget the nightmares in which I repeatedly stumble over Otou-san mangled corpse, occasionally twisted into the variation where I kill that person only to find out that I ultimately killed Otou-san.
Charming and incredibly productive, I know. However, I still can't seem to find the energy to move forward.
Speaking of Obito, though, he's not making it easy for Naoko to take care of him. He cries a lot and won't calm down until I am with him. I notice this with a kind of satisfaction that's admittedly petty, but I can't help it. It makes feel less lonely in my grief, knowing that he misses Okaa-chan and Otou-san just as much as I do.
So all in all, I'm mostly sitting or lying around, sometimes with and sometimes without Obito, and it takes me five days into the week to realize that I'm left completely undisturbed. And not the 'neglected' kind of undisturbed, either. Not at all. I and Obito are always tended to, him naturally more intense than I, but none of my small, occasional requests are ignored or denied. Granted, it's always Naoko who answers our calls and I get the feeling that she does it more out of a sense of duty than of love for two orphaned children who recently moved into her home, but it's decidedly more involvement from that side than I'd expected after the display of abjection that first night.
Even more surprising, though, is Yashiro's behavior.
I don't see him very often during the day since he's at work then, but I'm seated opposite of him every dinner without fail. The first time after the disaster, I'm too afraid to even look at him and when Naoko reports to him that I've stayed in my room all day, I expect at least a scathing remark.
Only, it doesn't happen.
No rant on how I am supposed to be contributing to this household in a productive manner, how I should act like an Uchiha and get my ass moving already or on my being weak because I'm a girl. Instead, he just makes a nondescript "hn" and drops the subject.
Looks like I've been putting more thought into beating up myself than he did.
Another sobering thought to ponder.
And it continues over the next few days. Naoko dutifully looking after Obito and me, Yashiro being thankfully ignorant of my uselessness and Toshiro … well, I don't see much of Toshiro to be honest. I have no idea what he is doing the whole day.
So, after five days of no interruption in my gloom whatsoever, I come to the conclusion that they actually must be giving me room to grieve.
Which, again, is surprisingly considerate.
I don't know what to do with that realization. It doesn't fit into the mental picture I have made of them based on their very first impressions and it makes me feel uncomfortable. Unsure. Because that means I might've done them injustice.
I … really don't like this thought.
Have I already mentioned that I hate being wrong?
In the end, I decide to dedicate the last two days of my grounding sentence to some active observation. Because if reality truly proves to be better than the idea in my head, I might not mind being wrong so much.
)()()(
As if my decision was some secret signal that I wasn't informed about, the pattern breaks the following day.
Yashiro comes into mine and Obito's room, which is a first. He's never entered the room before, at least not when I was in it.
"Etsuko" he says without preamble. It's the first time that he's talking directly to me after that night and I look up from where Obito is sprawled over my lap. He's getting bigger every day and I suspect that his first words will come out soon. The thought sparks excitement in me and suddenly, I can't wait. What his first word is going to be, I wonder. Maybe I can point him in a certain direction. Like, 'Nee-chan' for example.
Yeah. That sounds nice.
"The day after tomorrow, there will be the funeral for your parents and the other Uchiha that left their lives in the attack" Yashiro says stiffly, interrupting my Obito-centered train of thoughts. My excitement dies down as abruptly as a candle light eclipsed by a bucket of ice-cold water.
Right. Funeral. Of course there would be one.
"It's going to be an official affair – as in, very big – with not only the whole of the clan attending, but also very important people of the rest of the village." He speaks very slowly, as if I'm retarded or a very small child.
Um.
Which I basically am, in his and everybody else's eyes.
Oh god.
I never realized that Okaa-chan and Otou-san speaking to me like they would to an adult is obviously not considered the normal treatment of an almost four-year-old.
What have I been trying to invalidate again? Right, the thingy with the prodigy.
Gods, I'm so bad at this.
Yashiro continues, unaware of my inner debate. "Fugaku is coming from the front as the clan head's representative and of course the Hokage and his inner council will be present, too."
At this, his jaw tenses briefly and my mind automatically translates this as intense distaste.
Well. Seems like living as an Uchiha for nearly four years has sharpened my ability to perceive the smallest indicators that reveal the mood of my otherwise blank-faced kin. Not that I'm an expert already, but, you know. Baby steps.
And then something else hits me.
"Fugaku as the clan head's representative?" I blurt out. "What about Fumio? He's here and he's the clan heir, isn't he?"
Yashiro levels me with a blank stare. And then he says with a flat voice "Fumio died during the attack."
The sensation of blood draining from my face is instantaneous and I feel as if I have been punched in the gut.
Fumio had been there that night.
He'd saved Obito and me by engaging the enemy and giving Otou-san the time to bring us to safety.
Otou-san had left him alone because I had run away from Chieko and gotten myself into trouble.
I also remember what happened after Otou-san took off from that alley. Remember the explosion that shook the ground and made my eardrums go wild. Remember the shockwave pushing Otou-san in the opposite direction and the distant smell of burnt flesh.
And in the midst of the cacophony of memories, there's a new certainty budding inside my mind, slowly becoming as clear as a crystal, with edges so sharp they cut me up from the inside once again.
I have Fumio's blood on my hands.
"Did you see him that night?" Yashiro's voice intrudes upon my haze of guilt and I jerk my heads upwards, meeting his eyes with a loud gasp. He's watching me, expression as blank as ever but his obsidian orbs lit with the vivid flame of alertness. I swallow thickly.
"He saved me" I say, voice shaking so badly that the words become hardly anything more than a wavering mess. "He … he died because I was in trouble … I-I 'm the reason-"
"He did his duty" Yashiro cuts me off. "He would have jumped in to save anyone in this village, especially a clan member. Because this is what he swore to do when he first became a shinobi and then again when he became an officer of the Police Force. Had he not done it, he would've been a poor excuse for an Uchiha."
I stare at him wide-eyed while he takes a deep breath.
"And this is what you're also going to do in the future. You have awakened your Sharingan even though you're a girl. This gift of our clan is only given to the strongest and you will honor it by doing your duty as a true Uchiha shinobi, proving that you're worthy of it, and when the time comes, as the bearer of strong sons that will continue to carry on the legacy."
He narrows his eyes at me.
"Wallow in self-pity and you dishonor everything the clan stands for, not to mention Fumio's sacrifice. I will not allow that. I will not stand for a disgrace, for weakness within the walls of my home, and even though softness is only natural since you're female, there is a reason for your Sharingan and I will see to it myself that any trace of feebleness will be eliminated. Have I made myself clear?"
I'm so flabbergasted, I think my eyes have long exceeded the size of saucers. Leaving aside the fact that this is the longest I have ever heard any Uchiha talk, this is actually creepily close to an Uchiha-style motivation speech and I get the distinct feeling that this might just be what he intended.
It hits somewhere close to my heart and I can sense a shimmer of truth, honesty and determination peeking out from under the barrage of harsh words that sets something in my mind alight with tentative sparks of positive energy.
Well, if you take out those derogatory remarks about girls that is. It puts a damper on things of course. And I won't forgive him for that.
But.
I can't ignore the basic message of his whole rant. Because, if I understood his point right, he's promising me to help me become strong. And I need to become strong if I want to protect Obito until he is strong enough to protect himself. Which is non-negotiable.
Looking into Yashiro's eyes while holding Obito in my arms, I realize that I'm not going to give myself a choice in this.
So I'm going to trust him.
I straighten up and take a deep breath. My voice comes out with a residual hoarseness due to the weeklong lack of use but it doesn't matter, because there is a budding determination that audibly seeps into it, making it firm if not loud, rolling over the hoarseness like the sun announcing a new day.
"Clear as crystal, sir" I answer him.
Yashiro blinks, the only sign of his surprise, but he catches himself swiftly after that and nods once in acknowledgement. Also, there might be just a hint of approval in the lines at the corners of his mouth.
"Good. Now, back to what I was going to say in the first place."
)()()(
One day before my grounding sentence actually runs out, I'm out on the street and mentally preparing myself to enter through a door that hasn't been opened by its usual owners for a week now.
Yashiro is on the porch, key in hand and going through the motions of unlocking the door and deactivating the traps. It swings open and he turns around to look at me, scowling when he notices that I have frozen in place a couple of feet before the porch. I'm pretty sure that words of scorn are already on the tip of his tongue, but thankfully, he holds them in. Instead, he "hns", turns his back on me and walks into the house.
The house that's been home to me for my whole second life.
I can practically see Okaa-chan in her shinobi gear, hair in that unusual high-bound ponytail, giving me that eye-squeezing smile that should've set off every single alarm bell in my brain and standing on the exact same spot I'm standing on now before sprinting off into the darkness of the night.
I can see her, wearing her apron and carrying the basket which she always takes with her to the market.
I can see her, with Obito in her arms and a bright, real smile on her face, ready to leave for a long-overdue family picnic.
God. Had that really been only one week ago?
I blink furiously when I feel my eyes starting to moisten and shake my head as if the motion could send the pictures flying.
Focus.
I straighten my shoulders.
Forward. Right through that door. Better sooner than later.
I start walking before the blurry edges in my vision have completely vanished, afraid that I might change my mind again, up onto the porch and finally into the house.
In the end, it all took only seconds. Kinda anticlimactic. Well.
I slow down considerably as I walk down the hallway, past the kitchen, the living room and Otou-san's study, every room triggering sweet memories and bitter regret that I didn't properly appreciate all the good things I had here with my second family. It's all too true, the saying that you never know how happy something makes you until you lose it.
It's a hard lesson to learn.
My bedroom is untouched, everything in the place as I'd left it that night, and I have no issues finding the things that I came for. My first stop is my bed and lifting the mattress, I'm relieved to find the two notebooks, stashed close to the wall and undisturbed. I leaf through them briefly to make sure that there's no page missing, but when I come to the second notebook, the one with predictions and goals, my fingers freeze just after a few pages.
Save Uchiha Kiyomi's and Uchiha Nobuo's lives! screams at me in bold black scripture, the twin lines for emphasis mocking me with their firmness and the inscribed echo of naïve confidence.
What a fool I have been.
To think that they would be safe within the village walls, that the only thing I had to do was to keep a close eye on them and never leave their side. To think that I would sense the danger beforehand, likening it to the dread I feel while reading a story that's headed for disaster.
And of course I didn't.
Who would be so stupid as to compare life to reading a story anyway?
Me, that's who. I've been so stupid, it physically hurts. Or maybe that's the grief. I dunno.
I hurriedly shut the notebook and put both of them on my bed to pick them up later. I walk over to the dresser and pull the lowest drawer open, sifting through my nightwear until my fingers touch cool metal.
The two lilies glint in the light that's streaming in from the window as I hold it up, the beautiful white gems glittering like they did on the day Okaa-chan handed this hairpin to me. The embodiment of a promise, as she explained it to me, the promise to shoulder the responsibility of being an Uchiha.
If I equal this promise to 'protecting Obito', I'm in for the rest of my life. I hope it makes her proud.
"Do you have everything you came for?"
Yashiro's gruff voice interrupts my reverie and I turn around with a start. He's standing in the doorway and upon noticing what I'm clutching in my hands, something minuscule in his eyes changes.
"Meet me on the porch when you're finished" he says abruptly, voice strangely husky, and walks away, leaving me completely confused.
Um.
Did I do something?
I look at the hairpin as if it holds all the answers that I don't know if I want to seek and scratch my head.
Well.
I'll figure it out another time, I guess. Maybe.
I head over to the bed again and open the bag that I brought with me. There is more than enough space for the two notebooks and the hair pin and when I finish stuffing them in, I take a final glance at my room.
I wish there was something of Otou-san's that I could take with me. But then again, my bedroom might be the wrong place for that. So I trudge out of my room and over to Otou-san's study.
Just like my bedroom it looks completely untouched and upon entering, I'm suddenly overwhelmed with the desperate wish to see him sitting there at his desk, left eyebrow arched and dark onyx gaze trained on me.
I'll take everything, him being mad at me, him beating katas into me, hell, even him genjutsuing me. I'll tell him everything he wants to know, tell him that I'm a soul reborn, that I know what's going to happen to Obito and maybe how to prevent it.
Anything to bring him back. Anything.
I let out a mirthless chuckle.
Foolish thoughts, again. The dead don't come back.
Except – when they do. Narutoverse is notorious for bringing its dead back after all, be it via Edo or Rinne Tensei.
If I'd go and find Orochimaru, would he do it for me?
I gasp and clamp my hands on my mouth.
I did not just think that.
I did not.
…
GREAT GOD, I ACTUALLY THOUGHT ABOUT ASKING THE CREEPY SNAKE TO EDO TENSEI MY PARENTS!
Seriously, what the hell is wrong with me?!
How could I even consider this idea? And not just the using-edo-tensei-part, but even worse, the asking-Orochimaru-part?
I close my eyes and put my face in my hands, trying to get my wildly galloping heartbeat down to a normal frequency.
Deep breaths. In. Out. Repeat.
When my urge to run in circles while screaming my lungs out is reduced to merely wanting to laugh, loudly and hysterically, I look up again.
Just grab something of Otou-san's and get out of here.
I move over to the desk and eye the contents warily. There're stacks of papers, neatly arranged along the edges of the wooden surface and one notebook in the middle. Nothing interesting. I hesitate shortly before pulling the first drawer open.
Bingo.
There, lying among other miscellaneous utensils, is his sleek, black pen.
It's nothing as emotionally laden as Okaa-chan's hairpin, but as something that he used daily, it'll do.
I hurriedly take it out, put it in my bag and practically flee out of the room.
In the hallway, I take a few seconds to close my eyes and calm myself down again. It wouldn't do to meet Yashiro all distraught and teary.
When I finally rejoin him on the porch he watches me intently for a few heartbeats. "Ready to leave?" he finally asks and I can't help but notice that his voice is carefully controlled.
I nod.
"Let's move, then" he commands and heads out onto the street.
)()()(
"What are these?" Yashiro asks when he sees me taking out the notebooks later that day.
"Diaries" I answer without thinking.
He looks at me for a moment, contemplating.
"Hn" he finally grunts and leaves.
)()()(
"We're here today to honor the brave shinobi who gave their lives to protect the village in the attack one week ago" the Sandaime's gravelly voice reverberates through the air the next morning, amplified by some jutsu that puts every microphone to shame if only because it doesn't need any speakers.
Konoha cemetery is crowded with mourners, a mass of black clad bodies standing in respectful stillness as every person listens intently to the words of their leader. Obito and I are right in the first row, Yashiro and his family at my back, and I have a perfectly clear view on the platform with the coffins.
There're six of them, each one adorned with an Uchiha fan and a framed photo set on the lid. Apart from Otou-san and Okaa-chan, I can only identify Fumio and I feel marginally relieved about it.
For anyone who only knows approximately ten-ish people, the deaths of three of them would be harsh even without their parents' being among them.
I'm feeling light-headed and strangely removed from everything that's going on as I let my gaze wander while Hiruzen is speaking, only listening with one ear to the solemn praise for the fallen, and take in more of the scenery. It's cool and windy today, with the sun looking like a dulled coin stuck to grey-blue fabric, the weather a herald of the approaching winter and I remember that it's almost December now.
I'm going to turn four years soon. It'll be my first birthday without Otou-san and Okaa-chan.
"They did not only fight as members of the Police Force, but also as members of the village, individual minds alight with the Will of Fire. Let's remember their names, so that nobody forgets that they were not only shinobi but, first and foremost, people of Konohagakure.
Uchiha Fumio
Uchiha Nobuo
Uchiha Daiichi
Uchiha Kou
Uchiha Kiyomi
Uchiha Suzu
May their souls join our ancestors' and guard us from beyond."
There is a long moment of collective silence as the living dedicate their thoughts to the dead.
I wonder how many really knew any of the deceased. I mean, obviously the entire Uchiha clan knew them, but how many of the other people standing on this cemetery truly did? How many lives did Otou-san and Okaa-chan directly touch? Or were they just another stern faced Uchiha officer, another Uchiha housewife seamlessly blending into the collective face of the clan?
I still can't bring myself to concentrate on mourning, mainly because I fear that if I did, I'd start bawling with no end in sight. So I observe the other mourners, let my glance skim over the Sandaime, his council including Danzou and all the shinobi who don't belong to the clan. It seems that everyone who is not currently at the front is here and a stray thought wonders if this would be a good or a bad moment for an assault.
What a strange thought to have, I muse detachedly.
Fugaku is standing a few feet to my left, his body rigid and face schooled into an impassive mask. He's staring straight ahead, looking for all the world as if he's about as personally touched as an government official who is only here because it was impolite to decline the invitation. Something tells me, though, that this is not the truth, that I need to look underneath the underneath and suddenly, as a wave of intuition rolls over me, I can see.
I see his stare and know that it's not directed at the air but at the photo of his brother Fumio. I see his rigid posture and know that underneath, he's shaking. I see his face and know that the pallor is several shades too wan to be considered normal Uchiha complexion, that the deep lines on his face are only recent and that behind the thin, pressed line of his mouth his teeth are clenched.
I see and know that he loved his brother deeply. That he's putting on a strong front because it's expected of him. And most of all, that the grief is killing him.
The Uchiha, a voice in my head says, treasure love above all else.
I feel immediately that this is the truth, although I can't match the voice with a face. The certainty is bone deep and resonating with my very being, something rooted so profoundly in my existence that I never even start to question it.
I am Uchiha Etsuko.
I have awakened the Sharingan while protecting my baby brother.
I am susceptible to the Curse of Hatred by the unconditional love I feel for my precious people.
And, for the first time, as I lift my head to look at the faces of my clansmen, I can feel a bond connecting me to every single one of them. We're all together in this.
For we love until it becomes our most powerful strength and our greatest weakness at the same time.
)()()(
The funeral ends with a declaration of war that comes as a surprise to exactly nobody.
How could it, considering the vanguard already stationed at the border for weeks even before the attack? 'Standby' and 'Strategy of defense' only work as prerequisites of inevitable active war it seems, never as end stages of their own.
But war needs a direction, as fickle as it might be, and with the attack from one week ago, Konoha finally has enough incriminating material to point at one: Iwagakure.
Apparently, me killing that person had been essential in uncovering that point, at least according to Hiruzen – even though he's careful not to reveal my involvement – and I wonder if that's going to change something big in the long run. It has to give an edge to your efforts if you know precisely who to fight, right?
The villagers latch onto this information like a pack of grim wolves, all focused energy and angry determination. For now, they're unified in the same endeavor, prepared to fight for the same goal.
How much blood will it take to reach it?
)()()(
"Etsuko."
I look back, one foot already over the threshold of Yashiro's house, and see him standing a few steps away from the porch. He stiffly motions me to come over and I obey after throwing a last glance at Obito who has been carried inside by Naoko already.
I stand before him, awkwardly shuffling my feet and avoiding looking into his eyes, instead staring at the ground. It's true, he's proven himself to be something else beside the insufferable jerk that I have exclusively pegged him as before, but it still doesn't make me comfortable around him. And his mute glaring really doesn't help the situation, either.
After a few more seconds he finally breaks the silence by thrusting out his hands to me with a gruff "Here. Take them."
I look up to see that he's holding two stripes of dark cloth in my direction and I reach up to take them without too much thinking. As soon as I have them in my hands, I feel the metal sewn onto the cloth and realization hits me.
"They were your parents'" Yashiro says, his voice sounding distant through the blood that's suddenly rushing in my ears. "The Hokage gave them to me at the funeral."
My hands tremble slightly as I stare at the leaf emblems engraved into the metal, the smooth surface dashed with tiny specks of blood that continue as permanent spots on the cloth. I let out a slow, shaky exhale.
"Thank you, Yashiro-san."
)()()(
That night, Obito doesn't stop crying.
Naoko thrusts him into my arms as soon as he starts whining and I do what I usually do when he does that – so, I gently rock him, kiss him on his forehead and tell him that he's not alone, that I'm here, basically – only this time, it doesn't work.
He keeps on wailing and I have no idea what to do.
When another ten minutes pass without any improvement in the situation, I'm starting to get desperate. I try to think of things which I heard would calm a baby down, but my mind draws up blank because of exhaustion after the long day, panic and goddamn, I'm technically four, why am I the one left alone with this?!
"Shh, calm down" I say, more to myself than to Obito by now.
Could I please just lie down and cry with you?
Actually, that's an idea. The lying down part, I mean.
So I do that, pulling my baby brother close to me and letting him hear my heartbeat. I stroke his head, his soft hair against my fingers like a gentle breeze, as I whisper into his ear.
"Just close your eyes, Obi. Everything's going to be okay. Nee-chan is here. I'm going to protect you so that nobody can hurt you."
I repeat these words again and again, until I start to believe them myself, and at some point, they evolve. My voice starts out soft as I remember the almost exact same words from a song that I first heard in a movie, a lifetime ago.
Just close your eyes
The sun is going down
You'll be alright
No one can hurt you now
Come, morning light
You and I'll be safe and sound
Don't you dare look out your window darling
Everything's on fire
The war outside our door keeps raging on
Hold on to this lullaby
Even when the music's gone, gone...
Just close your eyes
The sun is going down
You'll be alright
No one can hurt you now
Come, morning light
You and I'll be safe and sound
Sound …
By the end of it, Obito is fast asleep, his little chest steadily rising and falling, and for the first time in what feels like forever, I feel a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth.
When I turn around to switch off the bedside light, my gaze falls on the two hitai-ate on the nightstand and my fingers stop just short of pushing the button. The metal plates, now free of blood, glint in the soft light.
"Don't worry, Okaa-chan, Otou-san" I whisper as I finally let the smile bloom.
"I'll protect Obito. I promise."
As always, don't forget to tell me what you think. And more importantly, tell me what you want to have as an extra! Anything goes, really, and it doesn't just have to be something written *wink wink*
Oh, and I don't own the song. Taylor Swift does.