Itachi had always feared, then been resigned to the fact, that no one understood him. His father hadn't understood that seeing men slaughter each other on the battlefield in front of him and killing his first shinobi at four years old would traumatize him. His mother didn't understand that trying to coddle him only pushed him to be more independent. His teachers couldn't figure out the answers to the questions that he had that tried to expand beyond their basic lessons. And his peers thought he was far too arrogant to be friends with. He'd never felt comfortable simply being who he was.

Except with three people.

I'll have to tell them, he thought as he coughed clotted blood into his hand. His chest and back throbbed with pain and every breath he took sent a ripple of agony down his spine. His physician walked over to him and gave him a towel.

"I've never seen anything like this before, I'm afraid. At least not in a shinobi," he said. "From the symptoms and the scan we've done, I am able to gather that there is something deeply wrong with your lungs, beyond a simple infection and it's spreading rapidly. It'll only be a matter of time before it impacts other areas of your body and causes irreparable and fatal damage."

"How much time?" Itachi asked.

"Minimum or maximum?"

The Uchiha smiled sadly. "Maximum."

"Five years. If we're able to find some kind of treatment, perhaps we could even push it to seven. But, we'd have to act immediately," the doctor said.

Itachi closed his eyes and sighed, wincing. Five years? Five years of pain, taking drugs, or undergoing whatever treatment to prolong his life. And to what end? He wouldn't live long enough to fulfill the duties that his birth had placed on him. He wouldn't live long enough to see the peace that he had been fighting so hard to achieve. At best, I'd be a bedridden corpse by the time Sasuke is the age I am now. Nothing about that life appealed to him.

"And the minimum?" he asked.

The doctor cleared his throat. "Do you mean that you–"

"My apologies, doctor," Itachi said politely. "I just want to know what my two options are if that's alright."

"Of course," he said. He took a bit longer to answer this time and the Uchiha watched the doctor's face twist and contort. "If you're left untreated...perhaps six weeks to three months. It would depend on how hard your body fights back."

"Hm." Itachi's body had been fighting back but losing, which was the problem. He'd felt himself growing rapidly weaker and many steps slower than he had been. His chakra reserves were being eaten up in his body's attempt to restore and replenish his energy. So far, he'd been able to bear it with some dignity, but he could feel that the brave face he put on was beginning to crack. At barely thirteen, he was past his prime and breaking down. He wished that he had enough vigor to curse his body for failing him but instead, he welcomed his mortality's deadline. All that he wanted and needed to accomplish for the future could be done in six weeks.

"Would you like your family to be informed?" the doctor asked.

"I'll tell them," Itachi said, standing to his feet. He smiled at the older man. "Thank you."

The cold air was pure, laying a cooling sensation on his burning lungs. He took measured and labored breaths as his feet took him to the waterfall where he often went to think. The water was moving fast enough that it hadn't frozen and was pouring over the rocks in white sheets near the color of the snow. Itachi sat on a cliff and listened to the sound of the water crashing. He closed his eyes and practiced breathing, accepting the pain that came with it and working past it. Every inhalation became easier over time. He took time to think and reflect.

Konoha and Kumo had been at war since he'd awakened the Sharingan, a memory so distant, that he would've lost it had it not been for the eye's ability to retain information perfectly. A war that had started over a land dispute had spiraled into a shadow war filled with assassination attempts, squabbles on neutral ground, and laws instated to damage Kumogakure's economy. It'd begun to get bad enough to garner some attention from other villages if the letters on his father's desk had been any indication. The Tsuchikage's seal had been one scroll and the Kazekage's on another. Itachi knew that, at the very least, Iwagakure was not offering words of support considering they had just been at war with Konoha not even a decade prior. Suna, though, was a mystery. While their two villages had been allies, for the most part, there was still the off chance of treachery, though Itachi didn't see why the Kazekage would risk having Konoha turn their attention to his village as well.

Itachi had asked his father if concessions could be made for peace but the answer had always been no, the reason being that he believed that Kumogakure would never stop their attempts at stealing military assets from Konoha.

"Not unless I make an example out of them," his father had said. He had that look in his eyes, the one that reminded Itachi that he was not just Lord Fugaku, the Fourth Hokage of Konohagakure.

He was also Fugaku Uchiha, the Wicked Eyes.

How his father planned to do so was still a mystery, even though Itachi had done his own research and private investigation. He thought that perhaps his father hoped that the tariffs put in place and the attempt to reclaim the land that Lord Third had given up in his peace treaty would be enough to provoke the Raikage into attacking them. But unless the man was an impulsive fool, that surely wouldn't be sufficient to cause a full-scale war. All of the baiting for the last four years had cost lives. And the unnecessary loss was a pain to Itachi's soul.

"I knew I'd find you here." Shisui Uchiha had seemed to appear out of thin air, landing next to Itachi. He was dressed casually, abandoning his tanto and ANBU armor. It was rare to see him this relaxed.

"Yeah," Itachi replied. "I just needed some time to think."

Shisui sat down next to him and then leaned forward to look at his face. "How'd the doctor's visit go?"

"Not particularly well."

"What did they say?"

Itachi sighed. Then coughed. More blood. Pain in his chest. He decided to put it bluntly. "The doctor said that it's some kind of infection in my lungs, although I think that's putting it too mildly. Either way, it's inevitably going to pass to my other organs and cause my body to ultimately shut down. With treatment, the best I could hope for is maybe seven more years. Without it, six weeks."

The water crashed at the bottom of the falls, cracking like thunder against the rocks. Shisui was quiet, blinking. He scoffed. "There has to be a way to fix it. To cure you. I'm sure if you told Lord Fugaku, he'd do whatever was necessary to–"

"That's not what I want," Itachi said. He looked his friend in the eyes and smiled. "I'm fine with letting things play out naturally."

"Nothing about this is 'natural', Itachi." Shisui shook his head. "You're only thirteen and you're dying from a disease that can't be cured. Is that really how you want to leave this world?"

"Is it better to be thirteen and dead on a battlefield in a foreign country over a piece of land?" When the older boy didn't answer, Itachi continued. "Our world is cruel. Whether I die fighting a powerful enemy inside or outside of my body, the end result is the same. If I take treatment, I'll still die before my father. But, Sasuke will be here."

"It always comes back to him," Shisui said, smiling, albeit, sadly. He sighed softly. "I don't agree with your decision. In fact, I hate it. But, I'm being selfish. I just don't want to lose you."

"I know," Itachi replied. "Just promise me something." He closed his eyes and thought of his little brother. His smiling face. The look he made when Itachi had reprimanded him for attacking his classmates. All the times Sasuke asked to be trained or helped with a technique and had just received a poke in the forehead instead. The pain in Itachi Uchiha's chest was different now. "Promise me that you'll take care of him when I die, Shisui. He can change our clan if he has proper guidance. He'll need someone like you in his life."

His friend considered this for a moment then dipped his head. "If that's what you want, I'll do my very best."

Itachi smiled again. "I know it'll be more than enough."

A shadow blocked the sun and then descended towards them. A messenger hawk screeched as it landed on Shisui's forearm. "Sheesh, that hurts," he said as the bird's talons dug into his arm. Itachi noticed a small piece of parchment tied with a red string to the animal's ankle.

Father... Shinobi messenger hawks were highly skilled at tracking, using chakra-enhanced eyes to scour the area for whatever target they were told. Itachi had cultivated the same kind of devotion with his flock of crows, though, he tried never to summon them when he was home. Crows were notoriously fickle and antagonistic to birds of prey and it'd be more than a hassle breaking up a fight between them all. "Hand me scroll?" he asked. Shisui carefully untied the string and handed the tightly rolled piece of paper to Itachi.

"Come speak to me when you arrive," were his father's simple words. Itachi felt his face fall, his pleasant expression replaced by a somber mask.

"You okay?" Shisui asked. The hawk lifted into the sky, screeching.

"For now." Itachi sighed and stood up, stretching aching muscles. "My father wants to see me."

"Your father? Or Lord Fourth?"

"From the message, maybe both." Itachi forced a small smile. "I'll catch up with you later, Shisui." His best friend gave a nod and Itachi transformed into a flock of crows and disappeared. He flew over the forest, taking in how beautiful Konoha looked from hundreds of feet in the air before he descended on the village, morphing back into his human form. He dressed in his ANBU garb as he landed on the rooftop of the administrative building. He took in several deep breaths to calm his nerves, settling his heartbeat into a steady, rhythmic series of beats. He teleported inside the Hokage's office and knelt in front of his father's desk.

"Welcome back." Itachi heard his father sigh and his chair quietly squeak as he leaned forward. "Consider this informal instruction on leading our clan. We happen to have to an agreement with another noble house, predicated on a silent but very understood implication, and for that condition is in any way altered or retracted, it would be a betrayal of the terms." Fugaku Uchiha stared Itachi down. "What should the appropriate response be?"

"Dependent upon the severity of the breach. How badly was this condition altered?"

"It would be a disrespectfully conniving move. Do you remember the story about Madara and his brother, Izuna?"

An older brother abused his body and eyes until he was too sick and broken to move then stole his younger sibling's eyes to gain additional power. It was the story Itachi had taken closest to his heart. "Yes, father. So, they've stolen the clan's vision?"

"I suspect as much," Lord Fugaku replied. "It's impossible to effectively spy on them. Their Byakugan dojutsu is a perfect counter for enemies attempting to gather intel in secret." His father's eyes flashed red, the eerie glow of his Sharingan burrowing into Itachi. "But I can see that something is amiss."

That won't be enough. "Then we can't know for sure if they're guilty," Itachi said.

"We will soon. We already have one way in."

"Who?"

Lord Fugaku gave Itachi a disappointed look. "You know the answer, son. He's part of the agreement."

The tomoe in the son's Sharingan span, rotating quickly until they settled around his pupil. "Leave Sasuke out of this." His voice was chilly and quiet. His father looked back at him and, they stared until Itachi saw a tiny gleam in Lord Fugaku's eyes as his Sharingan shifted. Itachi prepared himself.

He fell asleep but only briefly. When he looked up, he was still in the office but the windows were completely black without the gleam of the early morning sun. It was a genjutsu, a lighter version of what he knew his father was capable of. It was easy to alter the technique to affect the senses but it was also an effective way of communicating secretly, expounding a large amount of information in a short time. However, it would only work if the recipient of the casting could counter with their own technique at the same time, creating a dual space for their minds to share.

"Itachi," Lord Fugaku's voice was a low growl.

"How could you plan to put Sasuke at risk just to figure out if you've been slighted?" Itachi said. He was losing his composure. The stoic mask had broken.

His head hurt. Warm liquid trickled out of his nose and into his mouth. Now his body ached. But this wasn't the genjutsu. Even in this mental space, he was still affected by the disease ravaging his body.

"You're sick," his father said. He sounded shocked.

"Yes," Itachi said, panting. He wiped his mouth and hoped that there wouldn't be blood on his hands when they returned. "I went to get a prognosis from a doctor before I came home. And it's not good. At maximum, I have five years if I seek treatment. Without it, six weeks." He sighed softly. "I've thought about this, Father. Five years from now, I would barely be of age to marry and sire children. And even if I did make it, I'd be too weak to do anything. A husk of myself. That's not who should be leading our clan."

Lord Fugaku was quiet for a long time. Itachi thought that he heard a sniffle from his father, only a very brief sound. When the Hokage raised his head, Itachi could see the small wet trail left behind. There looked to have been only one tear but that was enough. "My son," his father said. "My boy. You're comfortable not fighting for your life?"

"It wouldn't be mine," Itachi replied. He could feel repressed thoughts and resentment rising within him. "All my life, you've dictated to me what to do and how to carry myself. You told me what my life's mission was. You showed me what happens to those that neglect their responsibility to better themselves as shinobi, not only with swords but with words. I've never known what I wanted in my life for myself until now. I want to live out these last days and go the way that I see fit. Handling the concerns of our village." He needed to continue while he had the strength. "What Kakashi discovered is a bigger risk to our safety than a broken promise, Father. We have to follow up on it."

"A broken promise?" His father was incredulous and angry now, his voice shifting to the drill master Itachi had known early in his life. "This isn't some childish pinky swear, boy. With your convictions to die, this puts our entire family line and clan in jeopardy." Lord Fugaku's frown deepened. "When I offered the marriage proposal to Hiashi, it was to marry my youngest son to his daughter and heir. Because of the girl's title and rank, any children conceived between her and Sasuke would still be in line to inherit with the Hyūga with direct blood ties to the head of the Uchiha family."

Itachi's eyes widened. "This was just a power play for you."

"For us. For every Uchiha that may come after me, you, and your brother. How long do you think the dissenting voices will allow one of us to be in power? The elders didn't vote me in because they truly wanted me to be Hokage. Hyūga spies discovered their dirty back dealings, helping to shield Danzo's work from Lord Hiruzen and granting him the funding he used to help supply Orochimaru."

And you declared a quiet war on Kumogakure to track down the conspirators that worked to formulate the plan to kidnap Lady Hinata. More information that Itachi had parsed together. While the mission objective given out to the ANBU squads had been to eliminate any members of Root, the secret purpose had been to find those that worked along with Kumo's Head Ninja to organize the kidnapping. They'd almost found the last piece. Ibiki Morino had squeezed out a description of the last shinobi through the broken teeth and bloody mouth of one Root agent he'd been given. Danzo's death had freed them from the seal but conditioning had made them resistant to speaking. Several consistent days of inhumane torture with Ibiki had the power to change that.

Now there was the sneaky suspicion that perhaps other powers were at play behind the scenes, causing these unnecessary deaths. All of that happened for this marriage proposal wrapped in a power move. And now... "If they have ignored that condition, the future of the Uchiha..."

"Will not lie in the hands of anyone from the line of Tajima," Fugaku said. "I need Sasuke to find out that information. He's a perceptive boy."

So you've finally noticed. "There has to be another way."

"Despite your moral objections, there is not. Just like you, I've thought about many other possibilities including locking Hiashi into a genjutsu myself and forcing the information out of him. Or simply reading his mind. But, it'd be easier to allow the relationship between the children to blossom until they're close enough for her to tell him the truth."

Itachi blinked hard. "And what if you're right and she's no longer the heir?"

"Then, I'll make other arrangements."

"The Hyūga won't just let you abandon the agreement. Not after they worked hard to put you into power," Itachi said.

Lord Fugaku folded his arms and dipped his head. "They've already abandoned the terms that we laid out. They'll have no ground to stand on. They want the possibility of a new dojutsu evolution populating within their bloodline. And having it come through the Main house would be the perfect disparity between the classes, something Hiashi is driven to maintain. They'll do things the way I want them or lose everything they've dreamt of." His focus returned to Itachi. "As for you, I told you to track Kakashi not sympathize with him," his father said coldly.

"I did. That's how I know he has a reason to be panicked and digging deep. The scroll was worrying." He had a terrible thought that spilled out of his mouth. "And what if that wasn't the only copy that was sent out?"

This seemed to give his father some pause. "You believe this conspiracy? Agents from Root delivering messages to our enemies?"

"It seems likely, Father. Danzo had many connections, as you know. I've done extensive research on my own as well, and he's made contact all over the continent and in every village." We don't even know if we've got all his spies yet, Itachi thought.

"It would've had to have been someone with access to my personal records," Fugaku said. "Or someone that had been close enough to a former Hokage to know how to get inside the area."

"Or someone that knows or was trained by someone close to a former Hokage," Itachi said.

His father pieced together what he'd thrown out. "Pupils of the Sannin." He sighed again and rubbed his temples. "There are only two that I know of on the record and one of them wouldn't need to write a note about a seal he invented, especially not with his wife's name inside. The other was a part of Orochimaru's first round of experiments so I'm doubtful she'd risk treason for him. Not unless she was forced."

Minato Namikaze was nothing short of a paragon in Konoha and would be the last person to sacrifice his wife or village. And this Anko woman petitioned for Orochimaru's execution according to the records Itachi found. None of it makes sense. It couldn't be a known associate of Orochimaru as no one would want to be directly connected to his experiments. Maybe... "What if it's someone he personally trained while working with Root?"

Itachi's head throbbed again. He felt himself fall asleep and wake up in the Hokage's office. The sun was shining through the window, though clouds crept overhead and threatened to cover the light. He reached his hand up to his nose and found that only a trickle of blood had started to drip. The genjutsu conversation hadn't been too long but it was more than his body felt comfortable dealing with. His father looked over him and the glimmer of concern lasted only a fleeting moment.

"I would hope that you'll use whatever time you have left on this earth working to solve this mystery then. Especially if you're willing to put yourself out there for Kakashi this way," he said.

Kakashi was Itachi's former ANBU captain and had helped him learn to disassociate during missions and not carry the trauma home. I'll always owe him for that. "I will, Father."

It was only by chance that after Itachi had begun his plan by searching out Orochimaru's location beneath the Military Police headquarters and forging a letter to gain entry that he'd run into Kakashi sneaking out of the archive room. When he left the silver-haired shinobi with the instructions he needed, Itachi hoped that he found out the information that he was searching for.

His head still pounded as he took a secret route back home. He planned a hot bath with salts, minerals, and oils to soothe his aching body after hopefully eating a warm meal prepared by his mother. Then, a long nap.

"Itachi?"

He felt his heart flutter and then sink in his chest. He followed the sound of the voice, turning to see Izumi Uchiha standing behind him, holding a small gift-wrapped box in her hand. She smiled shyly at him, blushing as she walked toward him.

"Hi," Itachi replied quietly. He had hoped to see her when he looked better and wasn't in pain. He could tell from the look in her eyes that she could tell that something was off. To her credit, she didn't ask any questions about his appearance. Not verbally anyway. With the tender care she'd always shown him, she put a hand on his cheek. Her skin was soft and Itachi could feel his headache slowly wash away.

"I didn't know that you were back," Izumi said.

"I wanted to wait until I was rested before I came to see you," Itachi replied.

"I understand." The girl moved her hand and lifted the box for Itachi to see. "I made something for you."

He opened the packaging carefully, folding the paper up as he tore it off. Finally, he removed the lid of the box and looked inside. Resting at the bottom was a silver necklace with three silver rings with small red rubies adorning them. Itachi looked up at Izumi and she smiled.

"It's...for our anniversary," she said. "I wanted to make something that you could always have that reminded you of the people you loved. The three rings and rubies are for your father, mother, and Sasuke."

And not one for herself? Itachi put the necklace on, clasping the metal latches together. The jewelry sat comfortably above his collarbone, only visible if he didn't wear the high-collared shirts typical within his clan. The metal rested coldly on his neck, eventually warming to his skin. He thought of whom the rings represented. His father was as hard, cold, and unyielding as the metal was. His mother was as beautiful as the rubies. And Sasuke...he was more precious to Itachi than silver would be to a poor man.

The Uchiha felt a tear trickle down his cheek. Izumi wiped it away. They kissed, softly and briefly. Then they hugged.

"Thank you," Itachi said.

Izumi left soon after, declining his offer to stay for dinner. "I promised my mother I'd help her cook tonight," she said. Blushing, she added, "But, if you want to go on a date tomorrow, I'd like that. The Tsurara Festival is next week too if you'll be able to come to that with me."

A snow festival? It was that time of year, early February. Usually, though, the festival was held in smaller villages that neighbored Konoha. Itachi briefly wondered why the locations would be switched but shooed the thoughts away. Instead, he dipped his head to Izumi.

"Whichever you prefer."

"I'm asking you," the girl said. "What do you want, Itachi?"

A simple question but it still took him off guard. He looked above him for a moment, remembering his speech to his father. I want more than to just solve the issues of the village. He wanted...he wanted...he..." I want to spend as much time with you as I can. While I can."

Izumi blushed deeply, teared up, then buried her face in his chest. "Okay," she said, quietly. He held her close to him and sighed softly. He imagined a life with her, years ahead. Married, children, leading the Uchiha into the future after his father relinquished the position. Then, becoming Hokage himself. It was a good dream, but one that he'd never be able to see through. He didn't want to. The future of the village and the future of the Uchiha. It all rests with Sasuke.

He had put off many opportunities to spend time with his brother over the years. Itachi had been too busy carrying out missions and attempting to rest in between while fighting off this dreadful illness to answer Sasuke's requests for training. It'd always been a touch to the forehead and what Itachi knew was a lie.

"I'm sorry, Sasuke. Maybe another time."

Another time had never come. Not until today. Even if he just wanted to talk, Itachi promised himself that he'd do whatever he asked. He waited for a few hours after Izumi left for Sasuke to arrive back home. The sun had started its descent, darkening the colors of the wispy grey sky to a smoldering charcoal, saved only by the white light of the moon. Itachi heard his brother slide into the house, panting as he unzipped his coat.

"Mother, I'm home!" he said.

"So am I." Itachi rounded the corner and smiled when he saw Sasuke's face lighten up.

"Big Brother, when'd you get back?" he asked.

"This morning," Itachi answered.

"There you are, Sasuke," their mother Mikoto said as she put the dinner bowl on the table. "It's late. Is your father with you?"

Sasuke bowed quickly. "I'm sorry, Mother. And, no. Father went back to the office after we went to..." He paused as if he didn't know if he wanted to continue. "The roof and we talked about the history of the village."

Itachi blinked. He's lying. Why?

Regardless, their mother didn't seem to notice. She just shook her head and sighed. "Oh well, I don't think it'll do us any good to wait up for him. Let's eat." Itachi watched Sasuke's face twitch again and his hands briefly touch his stomach. Their eyes met and the little boy almost blanched.

Sasuke managed a few bites at dinner before he ultimately said he was full. Itachi watched him get up from the table and head to the bathroom. He finished his meal, clean both his and Sasuke's plates then helped his mother wash the dishes. Afterward, he sat outside on the steps, enjoying the cold air and letting it soothe his lungs.

"Big Brother?" Sasuke walked up behind him, then sat down and pulled his hood over his head. "Are you ok?"

Always starting with loaded questions. "I'm fine," Itachi said, breathing through the pain of his airways constricting. "Sounds like you had an eventful day."

"I did," Sasuke said. "I trained with that kid, Naruto."

"Oh really?" That's unexpected. "How did that go?"

His little brother shrugged. "He's a loser." Itachi caught the smirk that crossed the boy's face though and nodded.

"I see." They watched the moon for a little longer then Itachi said, "You and father talked about the history of Konoha, huh? What did you learn?"

"That village was founded by the First Hokage, Hashirama Senju, and an Uchiha named Madara," Sasuke said.

The name hung in the air longer than Itachi wanted. Their father had already mentioned Madara Uchiha to him? Is Sasuke even ready for that? Itachi knew had barely been when his father revealed all that he had to him. His little brother was observant, keen, and intelligent enough to easily follow new concepts, but he was still rather innocent and naïve. That name was a corrupting agent all on its own.

"Oh," Itachi replied.

"Father might not ever tell me, but Big Brother, I have a question."

If it was a training request, it was an odd time. It was a bit too cold now to learn any of the advanced maneuvers his brother was famous for asking for. But, if he had the desire to push himself, Itachi would just have to watch him carefully.

"Sure, what is it?"

"How did Father become the Hokage?"

Itachi stared at him. The wind blew and caused the chimes above them to ring. The elder Uchiha almost regretted the promise he'd made himself. But, if he only had a few weeks to live, he wouldn't die having never fulfilled anything he had told his brother he'd do.

He sighed softly and nodded to Sasuke. He suddenly saw him and didn't see a little boy anymore. There was something different in his brother's eyes. The innocent glimmer had faded. And sadly, Itachi thought before he began to speak. None of this will restore it.