Losing Shisui was different from losing my family. I've had years with little to do but mourn my old family, my misery tucked into the corners of the orphanage's closet-bedroom. But I was the one who left them. I could still think of them as alive and happy somewhere, even if I would never see them again. They were completely separate from this world—far away, and long gone.
Not Shisui.
Shisui was in the empty chair at the dining table, in the stuffed frog banished to our unused bedroom. He was in the pranks Naruto wanted to brag about and the stories I wanted to hear. He was in the exercises we did in the morning, in the perforated target in the backyard, in every leaf that looked perfect for training chakra control.
Naruto had been inconsolable. He flat out refused to believe my news, until two days later when Sasuke finally went back to school. But Sasuke had been grieving in his own way too. Angry and abrasive, an echo of the boy I could see in that faint, faraway future.
It was their biggest fight yet. There was biting and screaming, punches and kicks that littered purple marks along their arms and legs. Everyone stayed out of it, with even Kiba silent on the sidelines. Chouji outright dropped his bag of chips. It was Sakura who put an end to it, running off to get a teacher before my brother and his best friend drew blood.
And me? I just sat there. Crying. If someone bothered to ask, I wouldn't be able to explain why. I was just drowning in the sadness, the fury, the helplessness, every scream and thump like a physical blow, until all I could do was let it out in ugly, hysterical tears. Shino had been so terrified, he all but plastered himself to my side, his kikaichu crawling and nipping at my arm and shoulder.
That night, Naruto and I curled into each other, clinging with hands and legs like we were three again and crying ourselves to sleep.
I wanted my mom. I wanted Mikoto. I wanted someone to hold me close and tell me everything was going to be alright.
But I didn't have that luxury anymore. And this wasn't a world where someone could promise me that.
I had fixed things. Hadn't I? The Massacre should've stopped in its tracks. Everything was looking up, and Naruto and I had found a family to embrace us at the end of each day. Now Shisui was dead, and the Uchiha had holed themselves up, and everything was ticking down, down, to a timer I couldn't see.
My dearth of knowledge was a gaping hole that yawned before me, threatening to drag me under. Had this all happened because of my meddling? What had changed? How did the Uchiha Massacre originally start, and could it happen now?
A story was simple. Easy. Pick and choose a series of events, find the cause and effect. Untangle it. But now there were the gate guards who wouldn't let me through, the teacher who forced Naruto and Sasuke to sit apart, the ANBU who slowly stopped revealing themselves to us as their duties dragged them away. There were the clan elders I'd never even met, the politics that adults hid from their children.
The world was bigger. There were factors that would never fit in a story, little things I couldn't touch and didn't know what they would affect.
What would have happened to Shisui if I hadn't been taken? Which was worse for him, canon or the life I was living now?
Did it matter?
I dug through my fading memories, reliving cartoons that had no equivalent in this world. Questions and fears plagued me as I stared into the shadows of our bedroom ceiling, unable to sleep.
It had all happened so fast. One day, I was waiting for more news. The next day, Shisui was dead. I couldn't do anything. I couldn't even say goodbye.
I couldn't let it happen again.
It all came down to Itachi. He was the one who lost hope in his clan and decided to kill them for the sake of the village. And while I didn't know what triggered the Massacre, if there was one thing that would make a kid think this whole shitshow was irredeemable, it would be the death of his best friend.
I needed to talk to him. To make sure he wouldn't go down the dark, moonlit street of the cartoon in my memories.
But how?
"Well?" I demanded, as soon as we were settled under our schoolyard tree.
Sasuke's shoulders rose. He was perched on the tallest root, curled around his knees, as if it would keep him away from my incessant nagging. Still, he answered me.
"Otou-san went home late again, but okaa-san didn't go out after dinner. And nii-san…" His scowl deepened. "We were supposed to train together, but he put me off. Again."
My heart dropped to my feet. That was not a good sign. Hell, it was a terrible sign. Itachi had always tried to make time for Sasuke before. He wasn't always successful, but he tried. If he wouldn't train with Sasuke now, it meant he was very, very busy. Or worse.
"Why do you care so much?" Kiba said, lounging on one of the lower branches in the tree. Akamaru sprawled over his lap, huffing little puppy snores. "His otou-san goes to work, his okaa-san goes to the shrine. We get it. So what?"
"My friend is dead," I hissed, with enough vitriol that he sat up in shock. Akamaru yelped, woken by the jolt. "His entire clan has locked themselves inside their compound, and you aren't worried?"
A small hand settled on my wrist, careful to hold me over my sleeve.
It pulled me out of my sudden, blinding rage. I took a deep breath and patted Shino's arm, over his own sleeve. He was hesitant to initiate skin contact again, so soon after he lost control over his hive, and yet he still tried to comfort me. So I, in turn, did my best to accommodate his request for space.
Credit where credit was due, Kiba did look apologetic at the reminder. Naruto was tense on his own branch, ready to either throw himself at me or at Kiba. When he saw that Shino had it handled, though, he reluctantly settled back.
I took another deep breath. "Shino?"
He pushed his glasses up, in what I was starting to learn was a nervous tic. "Otou-san has expressed his exhaustion on the subject of the clan council. Why? Things seem to be strained as of late, especially after Fugaku-sama ceased attending."
Shikamaru tensed at my expectant look. "You know tou-san isn't in charge of the investigation, right?"
Chouji, who shared his tree root, patted his back in comfort. I leaned forward, refusing to let him dodge the question.
"But he's a clan head, and he's Jounin Commander," I said. "If he hasn't heard any news, I'll eat my shoe."
"Then why don't you just ask Ino? Her father is head of Intelligence."
"I've only met Ino twice," I reminded him.
She would also ask questions I didn't want to answer. Shikamaru was either too lazy to ask or would rather wait and figure it out on his own. (Which, on second thought, was still laziness.) Changing tactics, I said, "C'mon, Shika!"
He shot me a dirty look. We were nowhere near close enough for me to call him that. I made a face right back and raised two fingers. "Two weeks of homework, remember?"
Two weeks he could copy off my intentionally messy work, saving him hours, in exchange for whatever he could gather about Shisui's—the incident.
The me before death would have been horrified. I would have rather spent time helping classmates with the assignment than just let them take advantage of my own effort.
As things stood right now, my class standing could go fuck itself.
Shikamaru's head rolled back in a full-body groan. "Troublesome." Before I did something drastic, like bribe him with three weeks, he said, "The investigation's pretty much ground to a halt. They didn't have anything else to go on, not after he killed himse—"
"Okay!" I closed my eyes and leapt to my feet, as if I could flee from my image of Shisui's cell covered in blood and gore.
All they could recover was an eye. An eye. That was all that had been left of—
"Okay." My feet traced a path in front of everyone, back and forth in a shrinking circle. "Okay."
"What do you even plan on doing with all that?" Shikamaru asked, unwittingly giving voice to everything swirling inside my head.
"I—I don't know!" I shoved my hair back, dragging my hands against my temples. "If I could just talk to Itachi…"
"What makes you think he'll talk to you?" Sasuke retorted. "He won't talk to me, and I'm his brother!"
The sharp words did nothing to hide the worry in his white-knuckled fists. All my nagging had forced him to notice the tension in his family he might have otherwise missed. His mother, cold and distant; his father, busier than ever; his brother, almost never home. His clansmen, unhappy, furious.
"There has to be something I can do," I insisted.
(You've done enough, Minako-chan.
I shoved the voice away.)
Naruto dropped out of his tree branch. "Why don't we just catch him while he's at home? Then he'll have to talk to us!"
We stared at him.
"What?" He blinked. "He has to sleep sometime, right?"
Kiba choked on a giggle.
"Naruto," I said slowly, "We're not allowed into their house anymore."
"Then we just sneak in," he said.
"Then we just sneak in," I repeated, dumbfounded. Despite the blitheness of his words, there was a ferocity in his gaze that silenced any doubts such an absurd statement deserved.
After Shisui's death, Naruto had been… quieter. Lost, even. He would look up with a grin forming on his face, only to remember, and look down again.
There was none of that here. His cheeky grin was cracked, a porcelain doll in need of repair, and the arms crossed behind his head trembled. But there was no humor in his stance. He wasn't just completely serious—he fully intended to go through with it.
Of course it wouldn't be that easy. But the simplicity of the statement condensed all my worries into a single, concrete action.
My mind began to churn.
"You really think that'll work?" Sasuke asked, his voice small.
"It's a start," I said.
Kiba swung his leg over his branch, facing us. "You're serious," he said in awe.
"You're going to sneak into a clan compound?" Chouji squeaked. It was enough to make him pause, halfway through taking a bite from his sandwich.
Shikamaru was just as skeptical. "Even if you get past the gate guards, every clan member will know you're not supposed to be there," he said, giving our bright hair a pointed look.
Naruto snorted. "Only if we get seen." Which of course only made Shikamaru's expression flatten even more. "Oi, don't look at me like that! I'm good at sneaking around, dattebayo!"
"In a clan compound?" Shikamaru said, eyebrows rising. "Full of ninja?"
"They don't have to go through the entire compound."
This time, everyone turned to stare at Sasuke. He wrung the hem of his winter jacket between jittery hands, his face furrowed in determined desperation. "The south gate is closer to home than the main one, and less people pass that way too. And it's right up against the forest, so you can get a lot closer to the guards than on the open street."
"It's cold," I added, going back to pacing. "And it still rains a lot. So it won't be that odd if we go around with our hoods up." My heart began to race. It was the reason I kept wearing hoodies in the first place—it kept the average person on the street from recognizing me by my hair or face. As long as they didn't have a reason to look closer, I was just any other kid doing her errands.
Kiba had progressed from leaning forward to practically hanging onto his branch by his knees. Mischief spread across his face, a bit of fang in his grin. "How do you plan on getting past the guards?"
"I believe I may be able to help with that."
To my surprise, it was Shino who spoke. He fidgeted with his glasses, but straightened under our scrutiny. His voice was firm. "I will need three days. Why? It would take time to breed the kikaichu required."
My eyes went wide. "You're lending us a kikaichu?"
"I want to help," he said, hands clenched over his knees. "If it will bring you peace of mind, then I would like to help as much as I can."
He hesitated, but didn't follow it up with an explanation. I clamped my mouth shut, tears pricking at the backs of my eyes. His hive began to buzz, in that swirling way that only ever seemed to happen when he got anxious. I shook myself, then sat next to him and rested my hand on his arm.
"I'm happy," I said. "Because you're being very kind, and I'm grateful."
He tilted his head, then nodded. He patted my hand before pulling away.
Kiba swung down, Akamaru cradled in his shirt. "I wanna help too! It's just like pranking. It'll be fun!"
"You can't," Shikamaru said. "Tensions are already high between the clans and the Uchiha. Even if we're just kids, there'll be trouble if we're found messing around their compound."
"Then how come Shino can?" Kiba demanded.
Sasuke recovered enough to roll his eyes. "Because no one's going to notice a single kikaichu, stupid."
"Who are you calling stupid?!"
"You're not going to tell anyone, are you?" I asked Shikamaru, as Kiba started yelling at Sasuke. He gave me a baffled look, then huffed.
"Do what you want. It's too troublesome keeping up with you crazy people."
"Be careful," Chouji said, more sincerely. I smiled at him.
"Thanks, Chouji."
Beside me, Shino shifted in his seat, his hive buzzing with activity. "Will Itachi-san truly be able to help?"
My shoulders slumped at the reminder. Yes, this was a step. A good one. Something I could actually work with. But everything afterward was just an open abyss.
"I just… worry," I confessed. "I want to talk to him so I can reassure myself. He's my friend too, you know?"
"I see," Shino said. And it comforted me. Because even if I could only read half of Shino's face, I knew he meant every word he said.
"Cheer up, Minako!" Naruto bounced over, flopping onto the root on my other side. Planning for our little jaunt had lit its own kind of fire inside him, bringing back a bit of that foxy brother of mine. "We've got this, easy!"
I stared at him. Then slapped a hand over my face.
"What?"
"It can't possibly be this easy," I hissed.
We stood over the unconscious bodies of the Uchiha gate guards, tiny cardboard boxes still open in our hands. The setting sun drew long shadows under the trees, which then let us get close enough to the gate to release Shino's kikaichu from the boxes. The whole thing had taken all of five minutes.
Naruto snickered. "'Course it is. Adults are dumb." He crouched down, squinting at the kikaichu. "How're we gonna make them come back, though?"
Their wings flicked under his stare, like an insect version of who, me?
He winced.
The Nemuhari crawled over their victims, innocuous as an everyday garden beetle. Each had the feeding capacity of the average shinobi adult, meaning one only had to land on someone to drain them into fainting. After getting covered in kikaichu (and their pheromones) to keep the Nemuhari from targeting us, my brother now had a healthy respect for the clan insects.
"Shino said they should find their way back to their hive, since there aren't any Aburame nearby." Sasuke shuffled in place. He hadn't stopped glancing left and right since we neared the gate.
"I wish he'd also told us how hard they would be to make," I ground out. If I had known breeding them would have turned him into the pale, exhausted mess he was at school this morning, I would have kicked him from Operation: Crash Sasuke's Place altogether. At least Chouji had volunteered to walk home with him, so Shino would have him and Shikamaru watching his back.
It took him a day's worth of chakra to breed one at his age, and he'd bred three! Three! When I got my hands on him again, so help me…
"What should we do about this one?" Sasuke raised his box. The Nemuhari inside didn't even buzz, waiting patiently for its release.
"Give it." Naruto held out his hand, fingers wriggling. "We can use it if someone catches us inside."
Sasuke's frown expressed his doubts about that. He handed it over anyway. This was Naruto's area of expertise, and both of us knew it. He'd know best when to use the kikaichu.
Our odd streak of luck continued once we passed the gates. There were so few people around that sneaking down the street was a breeze. Naruto tugged me along as we darted from bush to corner to wall, while Sasuke did a very unconvincing impression of minding his own business as he dawdled out in the open.
It was shocking how quiet Naruto became. He was in his element. Mischief danced in his eyes, birthmark whiskers tugging at his grin. Every movement was full of contained energy, his usual impatience coiled like a snake waiting to strike. He listened around corners before peeking, waited three whole minutes with bated breath for an old lady to pass, shushed me when I tried to ask a question.
All I could do was follow along, amazed.
We made it all the way to Sasuke's street with just one young woman greeting him as he passed. There was only open space from the next property to their gate, so we made one last scan of the street before booking it.
"Where is everybody?" I asked him, panting. My inner cynic was still ringing its alarm bells. In Shikamaru's words, this was a clan compound. Full of ninja. Little kids shouldn't be able to sneak in with only a couple of kikaichu going for them.
"It's Hinoshi," Sasuke replied. "The day we honor the Uchiha who have gone before. That's why I know for sure that nii-san's going to be home, because…"
…because Shisui just died, he didn't get to say. The minute our feet crossed the threshold, their front door slammed open.
"What do you three think you're doing?"
I didn't realize how much I missed Mikoto until she stood there, lips pinched and pale with fury. Her kimono sleeves were tied back, her fingers covered in rice flour.
All three of us quailed under her glare.
"Okaa-san," Sasuke stammered.
She glanced at the street behind us, then pointed at the door. "Get inside."
Her icy tone was more terrifying than any shout. We went. Any plans of sneaking through the back were dead in the dust.
She swept down the hallway, regal as a queen. We trailed after her like a set of cringing ugly ducklings. Their receiving room became our judgment ground—three children in their best seiza, given one chance to explain themselves before the verdict.
As one, Naruto and Sasuke turned to me. Fucking typical. I started sweating buckets under Mikoto's expectant—but unsurprised—look.
"We've been worried," I blurted. "Everything happened so fast, and after—" To my horror, my voice cracked. I swallowed hard, forcing the words out. "—after Shisui died, no one could tell us anything. So we wanted to see you. If you and Itachi were okay."
The lines around Mikoto's eyes softened. It didn't make her expression any more forgiving. "Thank you, Minako-chan. But you could have just asked Sasuke. You didn't have to go all the way here to know that."
"She did," Sasuke grumbled. "A lot."
"It was my idea!" Naruto straightened, almost straining to grab Mikoto's attention. "Coz Minako kept worrying, and I wanted to see you too." His face scrunched up, some of that lost sadness returning. "Why aren't we allowed to visit anymore? Did we do something wrong?"
Mikoto pressed her fingers against her forehead. It was the first sign of stress I'd ever seen from her. Dread crawled down my spine.
"The clan is going through some problems at the moment. Which is why," she said, voice growing firm, "you shouldn't be here. If you were spotted…"
If we were spotted, what? We'd be scolded and kicked out like naughty children?
But she never finished her sentence. Instead, she glanced at the shoji doors to the training yard, and the streetlight painting it amber.
A hint of her cold anger returned. "The minute Itachi arrives, you will be going home with him," she said. "No arguing. No tantrums. You will go quietly, and you will not tell anyone of what you just did. Understand?"
Naruto and I nodded vigorously. Any victory dances I felt like doing were reserved for an imaginary dance floor.
This was perfect! Now all I needed to do was get Itachi alone to talk. Even our backyard would do, so long as I convinced Naruto to go inside first.
Mikoto turned to her son. "And you. You and I are going to have a talk with your father about the importance of clan mandates."
This was the first time I truly understood the phrase 'white as a sheet.' Sasuke's wide, horrified eyes were the only color on his face.
Knowing how important his father's regard was to him, I said, "Mikoto-baa-san—"
"No, Minako-chan. This is clan business," she said, not unkindly. "It's something Sasuke needs to learn." She gave Sasuke one last admonishing look, before gesturing at us to stand. "You three can stay in the guest house for now. I'll bring dinner when it's ready."
Sasuke all but bolted for the door. "Hey, wait up!" Naruto said, stumbling after him. He paused at the door, turned, then threw himself at Mikoto's waist. "I'm glad you're okay," he said, before scampering after his friend.
I stretched out my legs first, letting my blood go back to where it belonged. Mikoto propped her hands on her hips as she watched the boys scurry away. The look on her face was fond, if exasperated.
"Sorry about the trouble," I mumbled. She sighed again, turning to face me.
"There are rules for a reason," she said, helping me to my feet. "You might not understand why they're there, but you could put yourself or other people in danger if you don't obey them."
I ducked my head, my face hot. She flicked my nose, rebuke and forgiveness both. Hand in hand, we headed for the door leading to the back of the house.
"You're very lucky no one was around to catch you," she said.
"Because of Hinoshi?" I guessed. That brought a smile to her face.
"Did Sasuke tell you?"
"A bit? He said it's when you honor the Uchiha who came before."
She hummed. Her voice took on the lilting tone of a story often told. "Senju Hashirama-sama changed the face of the world with his offer of friendship to the Uchiha. Some would think it best to forget the bloodshed of that past." Something heavy flashed across her face, smoothing over just as quickly. "But our clan believes in remembering those who died before that change occurred, so as to make the change all the more precious."
"Wow." The thought made my heart warm. I liked the idea. A single lifetime hadn't even passed since Konoha's founding—after all, Jiji was still alive. Just because people believed a period of bloodshed and horror was over didn't make it true. Trying to forget would only mean leaving ourselves vulnerable to those who couldn't adapt to a life beyond war and hatred.
She smiled, pulling the door open with her free hand. "I'm glad you understand. It's a very important day for us, which was why no one was outside."
It took me a moment. The implications tore through my answering grin. "Wait, everyone's at home? Everyone?"
She looked down, confused at my sudden stop. "Well, the MPs are still on active duty, of course. But yes. Save for a few clan members on long term assignments, this is a day for our clan to be with our loved ones."
There was nothing I could hide my dawning horror behind. I stood, frozen stiff in the middle of the hallway, my grip on her hand painfully tight.
Her frown deepened. She shut the door and knelt down to my level. "Minako-chan? What's wrong?"
My thoughts were a whirlwind. Panic burst in my chest. I tossed aside word after phrase after word, frantically trying to figure out what to say. What a child could say.
"Mikoto-baa-san." I swallowed hard. "If the clan is… in trouble, and everyone's at home, isn't that… dangerous?"
Her stare burned me from the inside, lighting up every hidden nook and cranny. Like she was peeling me apart. I shivered, unable to read her expression, only able to watch as her face grew paler and paler.
She brushed my hair back. "I should have known one of you would take after your father."
My heart stopped. I choked on it, on the words rushing out of my throat. "My what?"
The fire in her eyes didn't fade, only softened. "Your father," she repeated, each syllable crisp and clear so I couldn't mistake it. "He was a fearsome shinobi in his time, but it was his quick thinking that was always his greatest weapon." She cupped my cheek. "Just like it will be yours, I'm sure."
"What do you mean, my father? You knew my father? Did you know my mother too? Why didn't you ever say anything? Why are you only telling me now, dattebana?" I cried, clinging to her wrist with both hands.
"Yes, I did. I kept it from you because I was led to believe it would be safer, compared to telling a child who could be easily tempted into revealing a secret." She gave me a pointed look. "But you've already been keeping a secret for a very long time, haven't you, Minako-chan?"
I stilled, a rabbit caught in the gaze of a hawk. Oh god. Oh god, oh god, she knew. How did she know? Where did I slip up? What was she going to do, knowing that I—
She chuckled grimly. "Now I know why you and Itachi are so close," she said, patting my head. "Though why you two chose to keep your intelligence from me, I don't know."
It took everything I had not to sag with relief. Right. The smarts. Of course. "I didn't want to leave Naruto behind in school," I explained.
Her brow furrowed. She opened her mouth, then closed it, her lips thinning. "We're going to have a talk about that," she said, pulling the door open. "Not now, but soon."
I followed after her, confused. But she said nothing more, tugging me along after her.
By this time, night had truly fallen. The full moon hung bright and fat at the edge of the horizon. We hurried outside, padding down the walkway together. Naruto and Sasuke's shadows danced against the guest room's shoji door.
Right before we were in hearing range, she squatted down and looked me in the eye. "I need you to do something for me, Minako-chan. I want you to keep Naruto-kun and Sasuke from leaving that room. Whatever you do, whatever you hear, none of you are allowed to step outside. Do you understand?"
The fear crept back, insidious as a snake. "What about you? And Itachi?" I asked.
She squeezed my hand. "I'm going across the street to Tekka's, so he can send a message to Fugaku for me. I'll send someone to look for Itachi too. That's why I need you to stay. I can't do that if I have to worry about you and the boys."
I shook my head. She was right, the clan needed to be warned, but my fingers refused to let go. Shisui's distant back was still burned into my memory, receding into a scarlet void. I couldn't shake the dread gripping me by the throat.
"You still haven't told me about my parents," I said, desperate for an excuse.
Firm, gentle hands began to pry mine from hers. "How about this—you wait for me, and I'll tell you and Naruto-kun together. Would that do?"
No. No, I didn't want to let go. If she stayed, would it keep her safe? If she left, would she live? "Will you at least tell me their names?"
She paused. "Alright."
My eyes went wide. She pulled me close, her expression deadly serious. "Do not repeat this to anyone, understand? Especially those you don't trust."
"I won't," I managed to say, through air that had turned into rubber. I didn't mean to—she wasn't really going to tell me, was she?
She pressed her lips to my cheek, then spoke.
"Their names were Namikaze Minato and Uzumaki Kushina."
Then she stepped inside the guest room, back to the stern mother who had been scolding us just five minutes before. Her voice drifted into the night, telling Naruto and Sasuke to stay, or else. She left me outside, frozen, lips soundlessly shaping every syllable.
Namikaze Minato. Uzumaki Kushina.
It was different, hearing it aloud. They were names that had always echoed in the back of my mind, but never truly existed in the same way that Naruto or Sasuke did. It was giving voice to things, to people, that made them real. These were people who had lived and breathed, talked, made friends, left memories.
Who were they? What were they like? Did Minato ever trip over his socks in the morning, like Naruto did? What food could Kushina cook? How good was Minato in school, and could I do better?
Mikoto's hand jolted me from my thoughts. "Remember," she said.
I nodded. With one last squeeze of my shoulder, she left. I entered the guest room in a daze, barely cognizant of a still-horrified Sasuke and a petulant Naruto.
The minutes ticked by at a crawl. Mikoto returned with a quick batch of onigiri for dinner, before whirling away again. Somehow, I managed to convince the boys to get into bed, to at least wait for Itachi somewhere comfy. Naruto tried to goad Sasuke out of his nerves, while Sasuke insisted on listing the hundred different ways he was screwed. Their babble didn't bring the usual smile to my face.
I stayed flat on my back, eyes wide open, even as one by one they dozed off. Every breath was a roar in my ears, every rustle louder than a gunshot. Terror was all I could hear.
There was nothing I could do. Mikoto had taken my warning, my idea to heart, and was doing all she could to prepare the clan against it. I was a seven year old child. No matter how old my mind was, my body and I would only get in the way of whatever they had planned.
What if I went in there and got myself killed?
What if I stayed in here and Mikoto died?
I sat up. Naruto snuffled, but didn't stir. With Sasuke between us, I didn't have to worry about him waking up if I left. Sasuke was a different story. He had been a light sleeper during our slumber party, so I took extra care not to jostle the bed as I slid off.
A moment's pause. Sasuke's breathing stuttered, then evened out again. I waited another agonizing minute before slipping out the door.
The moment my feet cleared the threshold, I ran. The night wind whipped my hair back from my face. Every step pounded against the wooden floor, too loud for any ninja worth their salt to ignore.
I couldn't let Mikoto die. If there was the slightest chance, even the smallest inkling that I could save her life, I would take it.
It wasn't just 'the Massacre' anymore. It was names and faces and the closest thing I had to a mother in this life.
What was the point of my existence if I couldn't change a thing?
I threw open the door to the main house, running straight into the acrid scent of blood. The resulting splutter blocked the scream trying to escape my throat.
Two large shapes—
humanoid shapes—
bodies—
lay across the hallway. Blood soaked their flak jackets, dripping through the floorboards beneath them.
Oh god, that was—
that man is—
that was his spine—
"They would have you kill our children in their sleep, and for what? For what?"
Mikoto's voice pierced the black spots threatening my vision. I bit my lip hard, focusing on the pain and not the smell, the sight, oh god, there was another body halfway out the distant front door.
"What would you have me do? We are outnumbered. We have no allies. The village would burn before an Uchiha could stand as Hokage, and even then, it would have made us no better than Kirigakure!"
I shut my eyes and covered my mouth, shuddering at the sound of Itachi's angry despair.
No. Focus. Remember. I forced myself to take a step, ignoring the sticky wetness coating my bare feet, ignoring the nausea curdling in my belly. Focus.
"Would you rather live with our heads bowed and our ankles chained, then?" A frantic note entered Mikoto's voice. Her words blurred, coming faster and faster. "Just wait until we're reduced to a shadow of ourselves? Is that the kind of life you want to live?"
Fugaku's face was lax, in a way it had never been in life. A sob escaped, even as I slipped past.
"I don't care about my life." Itachi's voice lowered. Even with the receiving room so close, I had to strain to hear it. "If it's for Sasuke…"
Mikoto's breath hitched. "So that's why… those bastards!"
Close enough. I threw myself at the door.
"Stop!"
Itachi stood across the room, staring at an empty corner. Moonlight through the paper screen illuminated the blood on his cheek and arms. A dripping tanto hung from his slack grip.
Mikoto whirled to face me. "Minako-chan, no, stay back—!"
"I'm sorry, okaa-san."
Wet. Salt. Splattering on my face with an innocuous splurt.
Blood flowed like a river. I stared into Mikoto's eyes, even as the light in them died. She collapsed with a sickening thump.
Behind her was Itachi, his face tear-stricken, his sword still raised from cutting her throat. Red and black swirled into that all-too-familiar pinwheel shape. A single drop of blood joined the tears on his cheeks.
Those awful, awful eyes widened at the sight of me. "Minako," he said. "What are you—" His head jerked towards the shoji door leading outside, only to turn back to me. "You shouldn't be here!"
"You… you…" My shaking hands rose to my face, dragging through the salty wetness on my cheeks. Mikoto lay there, on the ground, those beautiful, loving eyes vacant and unseeing, unmoving.
That can't be Mikoto. It can't be. Mikoto-baa-san shouldn't look like—
"Nii-san?"
I gasped. Blood dripped over my lips, tainting my tongue. Sasuke stood behind me, his hands still on the door like he'd forgotten they were there.
Sasuke. Sasuke was—
Itachi was—
"Itachi, don't!"
When I turned towards Itachi, all I saw was a stranger.
A cold, unfeeling gaze stared us down, scarlet glistening in the light of the full moon. There was no secret smile, no barely-hidden affection in those eyes. He looked upon us and found us lacking. We were insects that weren't worth stepping on.
I shoved Sasuke behind me. Tears blurred my sight as I struggled to block his view, without turning my back on the sword still dripping in the moonlight. "Don't—don't look into his eyes!"
"What—nii-san, what's going on? Get off me!" Sasuke shoved against my arms. His fingers slipped against the blood on my collarbone. My breath hitched.
"Get out of my way," Itachi said.
"No!" I tightened my grip on Sasuke. He cried out, beating against my chest. I refused to let him pull back. "Enough already! You don't have to do this!"
"And who are you to say what is enough?" His lip curled. Dissonant. Mocking. "Uzumaki Minako. Always meddling in others' affairs." He stepped over Mikoto, sending ripples across the growing pool of blood. "Did you enjoy it? Playing with people's lives? Did it give you the family that you always wanted?"
"What?" I couldn't breathe. "What are you talking about?"
"It must have felt good, ingratiating yourself with the poor, tragic Uchiha clan," he continued. "Especially with what you knew." He tilted his head. "Why? Did you think you could save them?"
I shook my head wordlessly, trying to shake off the terror and dread dripping like embers on my skin, burning in my veins. The world swayed. Everything felt hazy, heavy as a nightmare. "No, I…"
His scarlet gaze seared me with his scorn. "You can lie to everyone, Minako, but don't lie to yourself.
"You couldn't stop Shisui's death. You can't stop me."
I reeled. Cold words, stated like mere fact. They lanced deep into my chest, piercing where no blades could reach. Words that had echoed in my head in the dead of night, spoken aloud and made real.
"No! I didn't know! I swear, I wanted to, I tried to, to save him, but I couldn't do anything! I didn't know!"
Shisui, smiling up at me. Shisui, ruffling my hair. Shisui, walking away, confidence in every step.
It wasn't my fault. It wasn't my fault!
A flicker of emotion, buried behind the glacial cold of an uncaring predator. Bitter triumph.
"Move," Itachi said.
Sasuke gasped. It kicked me out of my frozen terror. I squeezed my eyes shut and shook my head.
No. This was—this was Itachi. He was just lying, trying to manipulate me like he would Sasuke. He didn't—he didn't mean it.
"Move, or die."
He stepped forward; I stepped back. His presence was a physical weight, corrupting the air with murderous intent. Sasuke had gone still, save for the terror and disbelief shaking him from head to foot.
"No." My voice cracked.
He didn't mean it. He didn't mean it!
"So be it."
He stepped forward. Sasuke was crying something; it didn't register. I could feel every sob against my neck, hear the wind through the eaves and the creak of wood underfoot. The fear was a roaring heat, filling me with the need to run, or fight, or do anything that wasn't stand there and die.
But it wasn't real. The fear was wrong, because Itachi would never hurt us.
He wouldn't.
Right?
Footsteps, on the hallway floor. A thump-thump-thump out of rhythm with my frantic heartbeat.
"Minako?"
Something flashed across Itachi's face. Ice spread through my limbs, my chest.
"No," I breathed.
The footsteps drew closer. "Sasuke! Minako!"
Itachi readied his blade, flicking the last of Mikoto's blood across the room. A blazing heat overtook the cold, fire flooding my veins.
"No, no, you can't! No!"
I threw myself forward, as those red, red eyes rose to look over my head.
"NO! I WON'T LET YOU!"
Red—
"Minako!"
—burned.
A/N: Maybe I'm cynical, and I do read fics where the OC makes huge changes at toddler age (shoutout to like a river by Millarca, super funny, go read it. Also, lots of Shisui!) but I've always wondered at how much change a seven-year-old can make in a story. Not in the little "kid says something that makes adult think," but more of "kid proactively pushes things into motion." Like, yes, the Naruto universe facilitates child geniuses by using chakra to overcome physical disadvantages in a fight. But also there's a difference between a child genius and a child acting like an adult. One is precocious, the other is disturbing. Look at Kakashi—he was a super genius as a kid, but he still acted like a kid, up until circumstances caused him to age horribly and stupid fast. (Literally five minutes before Kannabi, he was trying to show off to his sensei.) Being smarter than kids your age doesn't automatically make you more mature, it just makes you different, which ages you mentally but doesn't give you experience. Besides, I'm pretty sure most adults won't take kindly to a toddler telling them what to do, or taking genius kids so seriously to the point of taking political advice. This is not a critique, it's just me thinking out loud and also possibly explaining why I decided the Massacre must pull through.
