Itachi glanced over his shoulder, eyeing the figure stopped behind him.

"Kuroki Kokoa."

"Hm?" He faced Pein fully, careful not to break composure.

"That woman you mentioned some time ago, it's Kuroki Kokoa, and she didn't give you trouble. You two were lovers, until you decimated your clan and fled Konoha that is," Pein said. "I told you I'm not fond of liars, Itachi."

"I only lied because I didn't want you thinking I was running off to see her."

"But you were."

"She followed Kisame and I when we went after the Kyuubi. She won't let me go. I wanted to return something to her and make sure she wouldn't come after me again –"

"So you still care for her then?" he interrupted. Itachi said nothing. "Because if she was that much of a problem you would have killed her by now, no? The truth."

"Why ask if you know?" Itachi lowered his gaze. Pein scrutinized the Uchiha, bewildered.

"Oh?"

"How did you find her?" Itachi inquired.

"Zetsu is quite helpful."

"Let me do it," Itachi said.

"Do what?"
"You're going to kill her. Let me be the one."

"I said no such thing."

"Surely you wouldn't just leave things."

"I'm not impulsive like some of the others around here. I'm not going to kill her just because I can, Itachi. I'm curious more than I am upset." He crossed his arms. "I'm not going to ask about your little romantic history. I don't care that much, and I'm not so sure you'd tell me the truth, but I will ask you this, Itachi, where now do you stand and what are you going to do?"

"There is something I need to return to her. That's all I want."

"This is the last time I'm putting up with you sneaking around. If there's trouble again, I'll kill her. She may mean something to you, but if she gets in the way she will pay for it." He turned on his heels, leaving Itachi in the dark as he often did after a scolding. The Uchiha, despite Pein threatening Kokoa, felt a weight leave his shoulders. He made his way to his quarters, shifting things here and there until he found it, fingers gripping tightly.

'You will get this back, Kokoa. I promise you will.'

Her eyes had run dry. She refused to speak, refused to eat, to sleep, not in rebellion or spite, but in defeat. Kuroki Kokoa had been defeated. Itachi had stolen half of her when he left, and the other half, made up of her time with Sasuke and Kakashi; the few but pleasant moments, was also stolen, gone the second Sasuke stepped out of the village.

She sat slumped against the cold wall, stomach crying, head bobbing and throbbing, losing the fight to stay awake. Dark eyes rolled back, and she faded, but not to black as she had experienced before. White. A cold white. An empty white.

When she opened her eyes, Kokoa was not greeted by the grey stone of her prison cell. She found herself surrounded by white, that same white she saw while losing consciousness. Panic struck. Had she died? From what? How? She last recalled herself fading in jail, but not from anything too serious, only exhaustion and a broken heart. She clutched her chest, eyes shut tight. Then again, a broken heart could kill. The life she had been leading and the life she would lead now that Sasuke had left…could she really call it living?

A pitter patter, a soft sound, something made her scramble to her feet, holding herself from fear and the cold, the bone chilling cold of that white world. Kokoa took a few steps, wondering if anything would show if she moved. Nothing, that is until she spotted a shadow in the distance, a figure inching towards her. She blinked hard and long, only to find the figure just several yards away, face still in shadows. She stood in a defensive stance, heart racing. Who was that? What did they want? And if it came to a fight, would jutsu even work wherever she had found herself?

"Stay back," she warned when it moved. It paused momentarily before resuming its trek towards her. A hand shot down to the kunai pouch on her leg – the empty kunai pouch. It seemed she entered the white world the way she left the physical; tired, hurt, defenseless; an utter mess with scattered hair, wide eyes, and that bruise Sasuke had noticed.

"Stop. Don't come near me." Her voice trembled as she spoke. "Please…stop." And the figure did, not because she asked, but because it finally stood a yard away; close enough to see and hear. Kokoa tilted her head, eyeing it, eyeing him. Yes, the figure was a man, a young man in his twenties, but that wasn't what struck her. It was this sense of familiarity. No doubt about it, he reminded her of Itachi; a quiet man, reserved, standing erect and calm with eyes that seemed to see everything, though the Itachi she knew held a kindness this man did not. Itachi was gentle, he sought peace. The man before her, while he most certainly could be kind for all she knew, was not as inviting as the Uchiha. There was a ferocity to his eyes; jagged and rough on the outside, enough to hurt anyone who came too close.

Still, his resemblance to Itachi wasn't what she found familiar about him. It was more of a feeling than sight. Kokoa struggled with herself, terrified but also unable to look away. She hoped to recognize him if she stared hard enough, but felt herself grow uncomfortable and embarrassed before the young man.

"Just who are you?" she mumbled, eyes focused off to the side. "More importantly, where am I?"

"You could call it your subconscious," he spoke, voice smooth like black velvet. "The inner recesses of your mind. Your head. In the end, it's you."

"Am I dead?" She looked up, despair in her eyes.

"No. Though the fact I'm here means you've fallen so low that you truly yearn for death."

"What does that mean? Please – I remember being thrown in prison – and Sasuke – oh Sasuke left, and I don't have anyone anymore."

He furrowed his brow, watching the girl ramble and tug at her hair in panic.

"Kokoa?"

She fell quiet, slowing turning to him.

"How? How do you know my name?" She did not look away, this time taking him all in, the fire in those grey eyes and the way earthy – khaki hair fell across his face and stopped just above his shoulders, the occasional wave here and there. Her conversation with Orochimaru came to mind, and then it hit her.

"I'm Kuroki…Kuroki Akihiko."

"K – Kuro – Akihiko?" she stammered, stunned, surprised, speechless, eyes so wide they'd soon pop out of her head. "You cannot be." She shook her head, chewing on her bottom lip. He took one step.

"Kokoa –"

"My father died a long time ago. He died when I was a baby. You couldn't possibly be him."

"Kokoa listen –"

"Is this some joke? Some – some game or method those Konoha bastards are playing? I wouldn't put it past them, to do something like this to get me to talk!"

"Kuroki Kokoa," he said loudly, eyes focused, fists clenched. She fell silent immediately, watching him with still wide eyes. He possessed a certain aura, a sort of authority and power that had anyone's attention. She obeyed as a student would their sensei or a shinobi their captain.

"Sakiko and I lived a hard life," he spoke again. "And it only got worse after the clan scattered and we ended up in Konohagakure. I was worried, paranoid even. Not long after you were born, I gave you a bit of my chakra, some for strength when you grew older, and a bit so that if I was dead and you ever fell so low as to wish for death or you felt so helpless, so miserable – if you gave into despair, that I would come to you just this once. A strange jutsu, and people use it differently, but I did what I could." He finished, waiting for a response, hoping his quick explanation would convince the girl.

"You – so that means you're my…are you really him?"

"Hai. And you're my Kokoa," he said, eyes softening just a bit. Kokoa stood in place on the verge of sobbing, clawing at her heart. The strange figure turned out to be her father, and she finally understood why he seemed so familiar. Orochimaru had told her she looked just like Akihiko, the only difference being hair color. Though she had that single photograph of Akihiko and Sakiko holding their newborn child, it was only a photo, not an image she could clearly remember, especially at a time like this. Then and there, she saw part of herself in him.

"Just what happened to you, Kokoa?" he whispered.

"This nightmare turned reality. A sort of hellish existence." She met his gaze, her own eyes dark with bitterness, contempt, despair. "I've been so empty. I've been so hollow, so cold, so dead for so long."

"Who?" he said. "What happened?" The words slipped from his lips, volatile, hatred towards whoever caused her suffering.

"Before that…How? How are you here? Why? And why now?"

"I said your despair and desire to end your life triggered the jutsu. The lowest moment in your life."

"But I – where were you back then? Naka no Kawa. When I almost threw myself into the river?" She shut her eyes at the memory, pushing away warm tears.

"You almost did? You didn't really want to die then, did you?" he said. "Was it impulse? Something that sounded nice, but deep in your heart you wanted to live?"

"Maybe," she whispered. "I just keep losing everything. I can't hold onto anything. I don't even know who I am. All I know is this loneliness, this bitter solitude." The tears had stopped.

"Where is Sakiko in all this? Kokoa. Where is your mother?"

"Dead. She's been dead."

"Dead? How? When? Were you there?" She noticed him break just a bit, worry evident in his voice and eyes.

"I don't know. I was a baby. I never knew her," she said. He eyed her, not doubting her answer, only thinking things over, flabbergasted.

"When you were a baby? Not long after me?"

"All I know is that she killed herself out of grief after you died. That she took her own life because she couldn't handle losing you. She committed suicide and left me all alone!"

"Kokoa," he snapped, voice sharp, strict. "Sakiko did not kill herself."

"But – but they told me –"

"I don't care about what anyone told you. Sakiko did not kill herself," he repeated.

"How would you know!? You died before her. How could you possibly know what happened to my mother –"

"Sakiko did not kill herself."

"If – if my mother didn't kill herself, what does that mean?" Kokoa choked. "What are you saying? You know? You could see while in me?"

"No. I could not watch the world through your eyes Kokoa. I am dead and have been. Your despair trigged my chakra and brought me here briefly."

"So then?" She stood, waiting for the answer, for something.

"Sakiko was strong in body, mind, and spirit. A lot stronger than I was in many ways. She was proud to be a Kuroki, and she was thrilled to be having a baby. I loved her and she loved me, but Sakiko would not have thrown her life away over my death. I'm sure she grieved. I'm sure felt alone and afraid. The clan was never truly a clan. She and I belonged to each other, were always there for one another. She might have suffered a lot of pain, but she would not foolishly take her own life or abandon our newborn baby.

We struggled to find a home. We struggled to adapt to life in Konohagakure. We struggled in every aspect of our lives, but we never gave up. She never gave up. She wanted to give you a home and a family, something she and I had lost time and time again because of war and strife. She vowed to always love you and protect you even before you were born, as did I. Sakiko was a shinobi. She was also a fighter, a warrior. She never backed down. She would not have killed herself. She would not have abandoned you."

"B – but…" She dropped her head and shoulders, shaking slightly. That was the first time hearing about Sakiko, the first time the girl had ever learned anything about her mother. It hurt. Her heart did.

"Kokoa, listen," he said. She straightened a bit, pushing tattered hair out of her face. "What do you know? What does Konohagakure have you believing about our deaths?"

"Kuroki Akihiko was killed in action, and his wife Sakiko killed herself out of grief. Akihiko was not honored on the stone or anywhere because he was not originally from Konoha, because he made others uneasy and distrustful, and Sakiko was not honored because it was suicide."

"Those bastards," he snarled. She blinked in surprise. "Konohagakure is still the same, huh? The same bully, the same oppressor it seems. Tell me, my dear Kokoa, is that old rat Shimura Danzo still having things go his way?"

"Danzo? He – yes. Yes, he's still there."

"Kokoa, I will tell you what I believe happened, and then you will tell me what happened to you."

"Hai." She nodded, walking over to him. It was strange, standing beside him, looking at him. Just as Kokoa entered the white world the way she left the physical, Akihiko stood as he was just before his death; a strong, young man with grievous eyes, venom laced words slipping his lips. Remove the hostility and in her father Kokoa saw much of Itachi. Her chest ached at the thought, at the resemblance, at the memories. He noticed.

"I've heard more than once that people feared you, that Konoha hated you for your abilities. No one wanted to be around you. No one trusted you. They said you made them uneasy and you were difficult to speak with. Someone even said you were slow, but…I don't see that."

"Kuroki have a strange kekkei genkai; a bloodline limit that manifests in early adulthood. It's not fully understood. Even I cannot tell you how it works, only that the power differs amongst each Kuroki and that signs or symptoms of its development include severe headaches and body aches. It makes you sick, and you also feel that way after using it too much. I learned to control my power at a slightly younger age, and what I was capable of made others fear me. I could read minds, but not like some basic jutsu. No. This was more powerful, more precise, more detailed, and I could never fully turn it off – or at least I never figured out how to. When you know the thoughts of your enemies, it's easy to stop them before they strike. It's easy to take them down before they move. I know if they are lying. I know. And because I knew, everyone came to know Kuroki Akihiko, especially after I became in charge of the clan. You could say I was famous, and while that scared away opponents in battle, it came back to bite me when the clan fell apart and Sakiko and I wanted to start over in Konohagakure. I had a reputation. No one wanted anything to do with me, with Kuroki who possessed such absurd and terrifying power. Let's just say I did not have many friends in Konohagakure.

Often times, because I could never fully "deactivate" my ability, when speaking with others I'd hear their thoughts, all these terrible voices jumbled in my head, mixing with the real ones. That's probably why I came across as slow, like you said, or dense. It was hard for me to communicate with others normally. It always has been, even amongst my own clan. Sakiko was one of the only ones who was patient enough, who accepted it.

Every village has its secrets, a dark side no one is supposed to see, but if you make a wrong move you'll witness first hand that darkness. I was not from Konohagakure. I was a clan leader. I possessed a powerful kekkei genkai. I was Akihiko of the Kuroki. For that, I was murdered."

"What –"

"And to keep her quiet and in place, I believe they threatened your mother with your life, and not long after, Sakiko too was murdered."

Kokoa stood, arms hanging at her sides with parted lips.

"What I remember last…I was on a mission. Though Konohagakure kept an eye on me at all times, they did assign me a mission from time to time. Why not use him, right? So I was out with a strange team of jonin and a few ANBU. It was a larger operation, so I assumed it was normal. Despite living there for a while, I was not too familiar with just how teams were set up. I was foolish. I knew they were watching me even on the mission. I was surrounded by top shinobi after all, but I never thought…"

"What? What is it?" she said suddenly, tugging at his sleeve.

"I let my guard down. We were resting. I was packing my things. Everyone was quiet and calm. I let my guard down for one second, and before I knew it I had been stabbed in the back, figuratively and literally. It happened quickly, was executed swiftly. I didn't last long; however, looking back at it now…that team was strange, wasn't it? They must have made it seem like an ambush, but it wasn't because I was the only one hit, and no one jumped up to fight. I remember their faces; cold eyes watching me die like some spectacle, savages, but there's one face I have not yet forgotten, and funny enough, he was wearing a mask…he was ANBU but…he was different, held a certain darkness, and I could not read his thoughts, not before or after the attack. He was trained, or using some sort of trick to keep quiet. He was the one in charge, the one who murdered me when all I was doing was working like a dog for Konohagakure. He is the one who stabbed me in the back and took everything."

"Root," she said. "It must have been Danzo's Root. They're different than other ANBU. I can tell by how you described him. Danzo hated you and acted on that hatred."

"His sick way of protecting Konohagakure. If the village wasn't so corrupt, perhaps it wouldn't need so much protecting. I wouldn't be surprised if he really was the one running the show. He had his shinobi track and taunt me. He was just waiting for the moment. I was stupid. I was stupid and blind –"

"When Danzo and the Hokage want something they don't stop until they get it. It is not your fault! Konoha is at fault! Not you, not me," she snarled in the end with a flicker in her eye.

"Out of fear, and out of hatred, greed, and the inability to understand one another, Konohagakure took your parents from you, Kokoa. You were stripped of any love and protection, left to grow alone and empty, hollow as you said before. Konohagakure severed our ties, took everything from you. And while that loneliness and heartache you experienced as a child is evident in your eyes as I look at you now, there is still something else, my Kokoa. Something else haunting you." He gently cupped her face, his expression softening when she leaned into his touch. "What happened? What did they do? Who? Who hurt you?"

"It isn't just one person," she said, eyes glued to her feet. "It's…complicated."

"Tell me. Who is causing you heartache? Who has hurt my daughter?"
"It's long – it's a long story."

"Kokoa –"

"It's too much." She shook her head, avoiding his eyes.

"Kokoa." He reached out to push the messy hair behind her ears. He smiled a smile so kind, so gentle, so reminiscent of Itachi's it nearly had her in tears. He took her by the chin, making her face him.

"Go on, Kokoa. I've told you my side. Tell me what's going on."

"Fine," she sighed, rubbing her face. She glanced away again, wondering how to start, what to say. Everything. He was the only one willing to listen to it all, the only one who cared enough. Akihiko wanted to know who hurt his precious daughter, and Kokoa was going to tell him. So she started from the beginning, the very beginning.