A single hospital room was too big for three children. Shadows pooled in the empty spaces, echoing back the silence. The wide windows stayed shut at all times, turning the room into a giant fish tank. There were no in-betweens in this place. There was only the bright white light of day, and the utter darkness of night.
The Hokage delivered the news. No other Uchiha survived, he said, old and worn. We stared at him in disbelief, three kids who couldn't fathom a concept that big. An entire compound of people, gone. Everything else faded in the face of its enormity.
Something died in Sasuke that day. The light left his eyes as clearly as it had his mother's. In that vacant, hopeless face, I caught an inkling of the horror that always haunted me, so much so that I scrambled onto Sasuke's bed without a second thought, if only to chase away the dawning realization that he was now completely, utterly alone.
From that moment on, two of the three beds in the room went unused. Naruto had already abandoned his for mine, so it was only natural that he followed me to Sasuke's. It was hard work squeezing three children into one bed, but we managed. I laid my head on Sasuke's shoulder, my arm around his waist. Naruto fidgeted on his other side, alternating between squirming and playing with my fingers.
Sasuke just lay there. Silent. Unmoving, save for the tears that occasionally dripped down his temples.
I got the dubious honor of being the first to wake everyone up, screaming. My hands gripped the nearest warm, living body, frantic voices filling my ears. Mikoto's dying eyes faded in and out of the darkness of the ceiling. The strain of trying to see in the night burned red circles on the backs of my eyelids.
My cries abated. Not Sasuke's. He clung to me just as tightly, his tears soaking my shirt. Naruto was sprawled over his back, sobbing with relief at seeing me conscious and upright.
It took several swallows to clear my throat. I shoved back the tears that threatened to spill. They lodged in my chest, cold and unforgiving.
"I'm okay," I croaked. I pulled Sasuke's head to my shoulder, smoothed Naruto's hair back the same way Mikoto— "I'm okay. We're okay, see? We're safe. We're safe here."
There was no point in wishing for a warm hand on my cheek, or a reassuring smile. I squeezed my eyes shut, and let the boys anchor themselves on me.
They refused to let us go home. Ken, our nurse, always got this pinched look on his face when I asked. So I stopped. I peeked out the window, trying to see past the tree branches level with our room. But Tiger or Hound didn't show themselves. So either we didn't have an ANBU guard, or it was a different team assigned to us this time. There was no one to answer my questions.
The tree outside swayed, as leafless as the one in our yard. If I tried, I could still feel arms around me, stiff and wooden. His usual passive expression, shattered by pain, fear, and confusion. I promise, he told me then.
My breath hitched. Moonlight bled into the sunny afternoon, illuminating wooden flooring instead of tiles. That very same voice, freezing with scorn, spearing me with words that should have made no sense. And yet. And yet.
"You can lie to everyone, Minako, but don't lie to yourself. You couldn't stop Shisui's death. You can't stop me."
Did he know? What did he know? How did I give myself away?
"Genius," I whispered, then laughed. Somewhere out there was a renegade Uchiha Itachi, and he might possibly, possibly know I had some inkling of the future. What a joke.
Then I ran to the bathroom and threw up. What would I do if he knew? What would he do? Would he tell his Akatsuki buddies? Would he use it against me and my brother? Or would it become a reason to trust me as his ally?
I used to think I knew the answer. Now, I wasn't so sure.
"Minako?"
I jumped. The towel in my hands fell with a loud splat. It pooled in the wet sink like a sad, furry jellyfish.
Naruto hung back by the bathroom door, looking stricken. His hair was even messier than usual, flopping around his face. Bags hung under his eyes. In his hands was the glass pitcher that came with our room.
"Sorry," I stammered. "Did you say something?"
He hugged the pitcher to his chest, so he could squeeze my elbow with his free hand. "You've been spacing off again," he said, instead of answering. He searched my face, biting his lip. "It stopped for a bit, but after Itachi—"
I yanked my arm from his grip. We stared at each other, shock and hurt reflecting off the blue eyes that mirrored mine.
"I'm fine," I said. "There's just a lot to think about, that's all. Don't worry about it. I'm fine."
"Minako—"
I changed the subject. "Did you need something?"
He stared at me for a moment more, then held up the pitcher. "We're out of water, and Sasuke hasn't drank anything in a while. D'you think Ken-san could get us some more?"
Perfect. I took the pitcher from him, grateful for the excuse. "No need. I'll go get it."
"What? No!" He grabbed my arm, almost clonking me in the face with the glass. "I didn't mean that!"
"I'm just going to get us some water." It would be another couple of hours before Ken brought our dinner. With all the snot and tears flying around, we needed all the hydration we could get. "Go get some rest," I added, after a pause. "I'll be back soon."
Naruto shook his head. "Get Ken-san to do it. You need to rest too!" he insisted. He leaned on me, eyes wide and pleading.
Guilt clawed at my insides. But I needed to move. I didn't want to fall asleep; didn't want to sit and listen to the too-big room echo the emptiness filling in my ears. "Sasuke needs us right now. Why don't you take this towel—" I grabbed the towel in the sink and dumped it in his hands. "—and wipe his face? I'll be fast. I promise."
He glanced between us, stricken. His fingers dragged across my skin as I pulled away.
"Promise, dattebana," I repeated, the word ash in my mouth. Then I slipped out the door, fleeing from the plain white walls and the boy sitting blankly on the bed, alone.
Compared to our room, the hallway might as well have been a tunnel of sound. Iryou-nin murmured to each other as they passed. Someone had left a door open, letting the occupant's pained laughter trail out the room. A phone didn't even get to finish its first ring before it was answered by a harried-looking nurse.
A few of the adults looked up as I passed, more bewildered than hostile. I ignored them. I was holding a pitcher; my business was obvious enough.
Finding the nearest water dispenser was easy. There was a bit of a line, but they were filling paper cups, not water bottles, so I was fine with waiting.
Everyone in line was a ninja. It wasn't that hard to tell—I used to live with civilians, after all. Ninja had an animalistic grace when they moved, with an awareness that didn't miss even the slightest movement at their peripheral vision. Not even a clunky cast around one leg kept them from moving noiselessly over the floor.
The sounds of the hospital washed over me, smooth and simple as the water filling my pitcher. I didn't even notice the medics until they spoke.
"Every single one of them? Really?"
I stiffened.
"Yeah, even the ones that made it to the hospital," her friend confided. "They were hurt too badly, or something. The last one died yesterday."
The third member of their little group elbowed him. "Not the last one," he said. "I heard he left his little brother alive."
"He did?" the first medic gasped. "Why would you do something like that?"
"Who knows? Bastard lost his marbles, didn't he?"
"But leaving just one alive? On purpose? Shit, I'd rather be dead."
"Oi!"
I jumped. Water spilled over my arms, splashing my feet. I staggered away from the dispenser, even as the familiar voice drew closer.
"If you have time to stand around and gossip, Akimichi Haruka has burns that need tending," said the newcomer, moving into my peripheral vision.
"We're just getting some water, Tanaka-san," the third medic drawled, before his eyes focused on my face. "Oh shit, you're—"
"Minako-chan?"
My slippery fingers clenched tight around the pitcher. Yua stared at me, just as shocked. Her hair was in the same messy bun, the quirk to her lips twisted by the frown on her face. She had gained weight. Shadows hung under her eyes, her uniform wrinkled and slept-in.
The knot in my chest swelled, freezing my throat and lungs. The emptiness was no longer an echo, but a roar, drowning me in Shisui's laugh, Shisui's blush, Shisui's bloodied face as he clung to me and whispered, Why did you let me die?
"Minako-chan, what are you doing here?" Yua stepped closer.
"I—I have to go." My voice was distant, tinny. "S-sorry, I have to—I'm sorry!"
Too close. She was too close. It was all too close, to the knot in my chest, to all the words tangled up inside. I whirled around and ran, heedless of the water soaking my clothes.
She didn't follow.
The distance to our room felt like eons. I had to stop just around the corner to catch my breath. Wiping my face with my sleeve did nothing. I must've spilled half the pitcher over my jacket.
Deep breaths. It's fine. I'll—I'll just tell Naruto I slipped. The floor tiles were clean and shiny, clearly well-cared for. It's an easy enough story. And I could just borrow his jacket while my clothes dried. If it got cold, well. We were already cuddling with Sasuke anyway.
It was fine. I'll be fine.
I stepped into our room. Only the death grip I had on the pitcher kept me from dropping it.
"Ah, Minako," the Hokage said, turning to face me. He stood in the middle of the room, in front of the bed where Sasuke sat. "We were just waiting for you."
But my eyes weren't on him.
Suddenly, my body felt too short. Or I was older, and everyone was too tall. I was seventeen years old, not seven or twenty four.
Because Hatake Kakashi was standing before me. And my immediate impression of him was "cosplayer."
He was iconic. More than Naruto, more than Sasuke, that three-quarters-covered face with the half-lidded eye and eternally windswept hair distinguished the anime from every other of its time.
I could have walked past Itachi or Sasuke in my previous life. Shino, Shikamaru, Hinata, all the other kids were too short and baby-cheeked to be more than reminiscent of their cartoon character. Naruto was just a blond kid with thin lines on his face.
But Kakashi was here—in the unforgettable dark blue uniform and flak jacket, with the plated fingerless gloves, the bandaged ankles, the habitual slouch. Hell, even the pouch where I, somehow, of all the things to remember, just knew he kept his stupid book. He was here, flesh and blood and unruly white hair, raising his hand, while his lone visible eye crinkled in a bright smile.
"Yo."
I jerked my head to the side, because if I looked any longer, it felt like I would float away.
Luckily, Naruto made for an easy distraction. He bounced on his heels beside Sasuke's bed, brimming with life for the first time in days. "Look, Minako! It's the guy I told you about!" he said. "He's the one who saved us, during… y'know."
His smile faltered.
I put the pitcher on the bedside table, then wrapped myself around him. He yelped.
"Cold, cold, cold," he whined, making a face at my soggy clothes. "Why're you all wet?"
"Slipped," I mumbled into his shoulder. Warm. Noisy. Solid. Couldn't float away, because Naruto was here.
"At least take your jacket off!"
I submitted to his tiny hands, unzipping the jacket and shoving it off my shoulders. It dropped to the floor with a wet squelch. I snuck a peek at our observers while he was busy.
It was very, very hard to read Kakashi's expression. His mask seemed thick enough to blur the shape of his lips. He had shoved his hands back into his pockets, his posture unchanging. Compared to him, the Hokage's soft eyes were practically an essay unto themselves.
"This is Hatake Kakashi," he said. "He's one of Konoha's most elite jounin. He happened to be passing by that night, and went to investigate."
Keeping my hand in Naruto's, I bowed. Beside me, Naruto followed suit, too used to getting tugged into one with me. "Thank you for saving us," I said.
"Maa." Kakashi rubbed the back of his head. "I did what I had to."
"No. If you hadn't come, I… he…"
My grip on Naruto tightened.
Even now, that night swam in and out of focus, blurred by the fear and adrenaline and buried in the knot in my chest. Moonlight dripping off a sword. Mikoto's face as she fell. Red eyes glowing in the night. A scream tearing at my throat as I threw myself forward.
"Minako," Naruto whispered. It jolted me out of my thoughts. I looked up into a dark eye that saw through everything.
"How's your back?" Kakashi said, changing the subject.
"Good," I said lamely. I squeezed Naruto's hand in silent thanks. "Can I, uh, ask? Why you're here? Not that I'm not grateful, it's just…"
He was one of Konoha's most elite jounin, as Jiji said. Why was he here, and not, I dunno, watching over us as Hound?
Kakashi's gaze wandered to the bed. Sasuke hadn't moved. He was sitting exactly where I'd left him, staring blankly at his lap.
"I'm here to pick up Sasuke," Kakashi said.
"Sasuke?" Naruto asked, baffled. "Why?"
"Kakashi is Sasuke's new guardian," the Hokage explained. "He'll be living with him, from now on."
Slowly, Sasuke raised his head. Naruto's exclamation was distant compared to the ringing in my ears. The world tilted on its axis.
Sasuke? Live with Kakashi?
I could forget the Uchiha Massacre, could forget the members of Akatsuki or whatever happened in Shippuden, but I couldn't be wrong about this. This had never happened in canon. I knew this never happened. Sasuke had grown up alone and an orphan in canon, because that was the point. It was the reason he was so angry in the first series, and why Orochimaru had managed to lure him away. There was nothing to keep him in Konoha, because no one had taken care of him.
This was it. This was the big change I've been searching for, all this time. The Plot would never be the same.
But Mikoto was still dead. And Itachi was still gone.
Was I supposed to feel happy about this?
"What about us?" Naruto looked up at Kakashi, tentative and hopeful. "Can we come too?"
Kakashi shifted.
"No, Naruto," the Hokage said gently. "You and Minako already have your own home. Now that Sasuke has unlocked his Sharingan, he needs someone to teach him how to use it. Kakashi can help with that."
"But…" Naruto slumped.
Rage flared. Hot and filthy, so sudden it took my breath away.
So Sasuke gets a guardian, but not us? And he gets Kakashi? Kakashi, who had been ours first, even if no one knew I knew he was Hound? Kakashi, who had been our father's student?
I clenched my free hand into a fist, took a deep breath, and shoved the anger down, down. No. This wasn't about me. What I felt didn't matter right now.
"Sasuke," I said. "Do you want to go with him?"
Eyes as deep as onyx flicked to me, before trailing back towards the adults.
For the first time in three days, I heard Sasuke speak. "You're Sharingan no Kakashi."
Kakashi stared evenly back. "I've been called that."
"You'll teach me?"
"I can."
Something dark flashed across Sasuke's face, so fast I almost thought I imagined it.
"I'll go," Sasuke said. Naruto jerked.
"Are you sure?" I bit my lip, trying to hide my sudden trepidation. "You don't even know him."
His hands balled into fists. Two spots of color burned in his cheeks. The signs of life should have elated me, but all it did was tighten the knot in my chest.
"I'm sure."
"Don't worry," Kakashi said quietly. For someone with only one eye, his gaze had a weight that pinned me to the floor. "I'll take care of him."
Tell that to canon, I wanted to say, then had to bite back the hysterical laughter that tried to follow. Canon? What canon? Shit, the world had fallen apart around my ears, and somehow, it still found a way to go even further.
This had to be a good thing, right? It could make all the difference between Sasuke who went with Orochimaru, and a Sasuke who wouldn't.
So why did the expression on Sasuke's face make the hair on the back of my neck rise?
"But why does Sasuke have to go?" Naruto insisted. "Why can't he just stay with us? We have an extra room, he can stay there!"
The Hokage's eyes narrowed. He slid his hands into his sleeves. "Well, Sasuke?" he said. "Would you rather stay with Minako and Naruto?"
Sasuke looked between us. The sheets crumpled in his hands. Something warred inside him, hidden behind thin lips and a scrunched up face.
The longer the silence stretched, the more Naruto's victorious grin shrank. Dread crept up my spine.
"No."
"What?" Naruto burst out. "Why? There's plenty of space—"
"I said, no!" Sasuke snapped. His glare was vicious, broken. "Leave me alone, idiot!"
Only Sasuke and I saw the utter desolation on Naruto's face. It stabbed straight through the knot in my chest. Sasuke flinched.
I stepped in front of Naruto. I didn't need words, just returned Sasuke's glare with my own, the knot roiling in my chest like a writhing snake.
Sasuke looked away first.
They repurposed one of the Uchiha Training Grounds for the funeral. It was appropriate, in a way. Close enough to home, far enough that anyone wanting to visit wouldn't be trespassing on private property.
And a lot of people wanted to visit. The entire open field was full of people clad in black. The ninja took the front rows, in almost-uniform black shirts and pants. But there were others in the back, people in kimonos and dresses and winter coats that fluttered in the wind.
The Uchiha were one of the greatest of Konoha's founding clans. They helped build this village from the ground up. Everyone had lost someone, here.
Sasuke stood in front of the new memorial, a block of obsidian twice his height and three times as wide. I didn't know what they did to the bodies (had Shisui mentioned cremation as their tradition, once?), but I could only be glad they hadn't involved Sasuke in it. Already, he looked so small, facing down the names of over two hundred people.
Kakashi stayed a few paces behind him, a silent guard. Beside him was the Hokage, with three old people arrayed behind them. After them was everyone else.
It must have looked strange, seeing Naruto and I in the front row. All these tall, imposing clan heads, and in the middle, a bright spot of red and yellow.
Did any of them recognize us? The thought was dull and colorless. Surely they would have known Minato and Kushina too. He had been their Hokage, after all. Or had Mikoto been the only one who cared?
We stood in a crowd of people, but together, we were still alone.
"Goukakyuu no Jutsu!"
The Uchiha's traditional Grand Fireball Technique engulfed the stone flame perched on top of the memorial. It glowed red, lit by the wood nestled in its hollow insides.
Naruto raised his hand, shielding his face from the blast of heat. My loose hair whipped around, held back only by the white flower clip by my ear.
And it was over. The Hokage stepped forward, giving a short, heartfelt speech. A few sobs drifted on the wind. Unnoticed by anyone, Sasuke staggered, raising a shaking hand to his chest.
How much had he poured into that jutsu?
Naruto and I shared a look. Hurt and sadness pooled in the shadows of his expression. But when I stepped forward, so did he.
I took Sasuke's left hand; he took Sasuke's right. Sasuke stiffened. He moved to pull away. My grip tightened. Again, there seemed to be a war inside him, his grip on our hands loosening, then squeezing. In the end, we finished the ceremony like that—shoulder to shoulder, facing down the remains of the only family the boys had known.
Something prickled at the back of my neck. I turned, but no one seemed to be paying attention to me. There was only the Hokage and his council, exchanging farewells. One of them was already limping away.
"Our condolences once again," the old woman said, nodding towards Sasuke. Sasuke shifted his weight, but said nothing. I moved to step in front of him, only for a large hand to drop on my shoulder.
"Thank you, Utatane-sama," Kakashi said, carelessly polite. "If you'll excuse us, there's still some business that Sasuke has to attend to."
Her sharp eyes missed nothing. Still, she said, "Very well," and left, taking the last councilman with her. The Hokage glanced at Naruto and me, then to Kakashi. Something seemed to pass between them. Kakashi nodded. His hand fell away.
"Let's go," he said to Sasuke.
"Wait!" I blurted. Even now, Sasuke refused to look at me, his scowl directed towards the forest. "Where, uh, where are you going?"
"Sasuke needs to pick up some things from his house," Kakashi explained after a pause.
My jaw snapped shut.
"Oh," Naruto said.
I didn't want to leave Sasuke. Not when his eyes were still raw from unshed tears, his face shadowed by sleepless nights. But even I balked at the thought of going back there, to the room with the bodies, the pool of blood, the moonlight that haunted my dreams.
And still, I couldn't leave. Who else would take care of Sasuke, now that Itachi was gone?
"We'll come with." I grabbed Sasuke's arm. "Right, Naruto?"
Sasuke jerked away with a snarl. "Who invited you?" he snapped, looking me in the eye for the first time all day.
My nails dug into my palms. I bit back the first response that came to mind, then the second. Shove it down, down.
Breathe. I had to keep my temper, even if Sasuke wouldn't.
"You don't have to go there by yourself," I said. Then I remembered who we were standing with. "Or with just Kakashi-san."
Or should it be Hatake-san? It was that tug of war, again, between having known him all my life (lives) and having only "met" him yesterday.
Fuck it. I couldn't even apologize because I had essentially shot my argument in the foot and kicked it off a cliff.
If Kakashi was offended, he didn't look it. "I'm sure Sasuke would appreciate the company of his friends," he said. His tone was perfectly light, and yet there was a nuance to his words, the slightest emphasis on 'friends' that made me side-eye him.
"C'mon, bastard," Naruto said, knocking his shoulder against Sasuke's. "We're just getting your underwear, right? Don't have to be all embarrassed about it." He ignored the glare Sasuke shot at him.
Sasuke searched our faces, and finally, his new guardian's. Whatever he was looking for, he didn't find it.
"Tch." He turned on his heel and stomped off, his fists shaking at his sides.
"Oi, wait up!" Naruto charged after him. There was a fragility in his expression, a vulnerability hidden in exuberance.
Habit left me wandering after them in a more casual stride, a reassuring presence just behind me. But when I turned my head, all I saw were gloved hands tucked into black pants. Not dark eyes and a faint smile.
I didn't stop running until I was at Sasuke's other side. His shoulders rose to his ears. Naruto opened his mouth, but in the end, he had nothing to say.
The ghosts filling the emptiness were even louder in the compound. I've walked these streets a thousand times, but I never noticed how lively they were until they were gone. The Uchiha had never been a rambunctious bunch. But even they had faint laughter drifting from the open windows, once.
There were cracks in the walls, broken fences left untouched. Burn marks littered the ground. The compound was a shadow of itself. The only thing missing was the blood.
Naruto's eyes darted all over the place, noting all the spots a body would have lain, like he knew exactly where they had been. But when I tried to pause, he just shook his head and moved faster.
Sasuke stopped at the threshold to his house. We all stared at the front door, still torn from the MP that had collapsed through it. Down the hallway was the stairs to the second floor, visible from where we stood. The receiving room encroached from the left, a gaping maw in the the afternoon shadows.
Red eyes. Moonlight on a dripping blade.
And looking at the boys to my right, I knew they saw the exact same thing.
Yeah. Okay. Nope.
I grabbed Sasuke's hand and dragged him and Naruto to the right. "What—hey!" Sasuke twisted, trying to loosen my grip.
"Where's your window?"
He stared at me, incredulous. "What?"
"Where's your window?" I repeated slowly, leading them to the side of the house where the bedrooms were. "Which one is it?"
As one, we looked up at the second floor. Three windows lined the wall. One was closed; the other two were open. A couple of trees on this side kept them out of sight of the street.
Kakashi came to a stop behind us. He seemed content to hang back, letting us discuss things amongst ourselves.
Sasuke eyed the wall with a pinched expression, before finally pointing at the leftmost window. "That one."
I looked over my shoulder. "Kakashi-san, do you think you could get us up there?"
He raised an eyebrow at me. I had to take a moment to appreciate the level of expressiveness it took to give me that impression, what with a hitai-ate in the way.
"And if I could?"
Sasuke caught on, fast. "I'm not getting carried up there!"
I crossed my arms. "So, what? You're going to climb the tree?"
He actually considered it. It was more funny than irritating. Somehow, someone had made it so the trees' longest branches faced outward, away from the house. It made the gap from the nearest branch to his window too far for even a ninja child to take. Which was probably the point.
"No need to be hasty," Kakashi said, just as amused. "This won't take long."
And just like that, they were gone. He moved so fast, the only hint as to where they had gone was the wind in my hair, and Sasuke's cry of outrage.
I turned to my brother before Kakashi could get back and interrupt. "Naruto." I hesitated. "Can you take Kakashi-san to the dojo? He'd probably have a better idea of what weapons Sasuke'll want to take from there. Then you can ask him to grab Sasuke's shoes from the genkan."
Kakashi was a full-grown ninja at this point. He shouldn't have any problems walking over where a dead body used to be.
"Eh? But—what about you?" Naruto stepped closer, his fingers digging into my sleeve. "Why can't we all just go together?"
I shook my head. "It'll be faster if we split up. I don't want to stay here any longer than we have to."
To be honest, I didn't like the idea of splitting up either. But the worried look on Naruto's face scraped against my skin like sandpaper. It poked at the cold knot in my chest, unraveling its seams.
I pulled my arm from his. "Look, the sooner—"
"Alright, who's next?"
Naruto yelped. My heart lodged in my throat. "Don't do that!" I squeaked.
Kakashi tilted his head. He stood exactly where he did before, as if he never left.
"Do what?" He even sounded sincere.
I glared at him. "I'm just going to assume you heard everything I just said. Is it alright, then?"
His eye narrowed, while his cheekbones rose a little. A smile? "It's a reasonable plan," he allowed. "The question is, is your brother okay with it?"
Frankly, I couldn't have phrased it better myself. Any lingering apprehension Naruto felt was burned away by a familiar stubbornness. "Of course I'm okay with it! I can totally show you the way to the dojo, dattebayo!"
Relief loosened the tension in my shoulders. It was good to see Naruto like that again, even if only for a little while. "That's settled, then. Some help, please?"
I held on to Kakashi's shoulders—black funeral wear meant no vest for me to dig my fingers into—as he hefted me in his arms. A single leap, and we were in Sasuke's room. When I looked back, Kakashi was already on the ground, next to Naruto.
"This way. Minako wants to get things done, fast, so we better be fast, alright? Keep up, old man!"
Kakashi staggered. "Old man…?"
Naruto ran back to the front of the house, and out of sight. Kakashi sighed, gave me a two fingered salute, then followed at a more lackadaisical pace.
Somehow, the gesture managed to comfort me. At the very least, I knew Kakashi would keep Naruto safe. And the simple task of leading him around seemed to be already taking Naruto's mind off things.
I turned from the window, ready to call the last of our party.
A closet took up the left side of the room, posters plastered on its doors. To my right was the bed, snug against the corner and sheets neatly tucked in. A writing desk sat by the door. There were a few sheets of paper on top, pinned by an uncapped pen, while a cluttered box of kunai rested at its feet.
Sasuke stood in the middle of the room, unmoving. His eyes were pinned to his bed. Resting against the headboard, waiting patiently for his return, was a giant stuffed cat.
The cat Itachi had won him on our birthday.
My throat tightened. For once, the memories tugging at my mind weren't of that night, mere days ago, the moment everything fell apart. That didn't make them hurt any less.
I rested my fingertips against Sasuke's arm. He flinched, then scrubbed his eyes. "What are you doing here?" he demanded. "Aren't you always stuck to the hip with that idiot?"
It was so tempting to scowl at him. "I figured you might want someone familiar around," I said, keeping my voice steady. "Someone who won't try to fill the quiet with talking." Naruto meant well. But I didn't think his brand of comforting would help much here.
He smacked my hand away. "I don't need your help."
I rolled my eyes and turned to his cabinet. "You don't have to need it. I want to."
He spun me around to face him. Caught off-guard, I staggered, almost slamming into the foot of the bed.
Oh yeah. Definitely glad Naruto wasn't here.
"Hey!"
"I said I don't want your help!" Sasuke's eyes glittered. His shoulders heaved with barely-suppressed rage. "So just stop following me already!"
Deep breaths. Shove it down.
I sat. The mattress bounced under me, unfairly soft. I crossed my arms and looked him in the eye.
"You're hurting."
He flinched. My heart softened in spite of myself.
"I am, too. And so is Naruto." I dropped my hands, letting them rest on my lap. "We're your friends, Sasuke. We care about you. You don't have to be alone in this."
He gritted his teeth and looked away. "I don't need friends. I don't want anyone that he can—"
We froze under the weight of that unspoken name.
Here, this close to it all, the knot in my chest strained. It pulled too tight, crossing over my ribs and throat. Heavy. Suffocating.
I swallowed hard. "Everyone needs friends," I said. "His—his mistake was abandoning his."
The words tasted bitter in my mouth. Sasuke's hands clenched into fists. I looked at my lap, fighting to hold back the burning in my eyes. Absence filled the space between us.
"I'm going to kill him."
My head snapped up. "What?"
"I'm going to kill him," Sasuke repeated, his voice thick.
"Don't say that." My lips were on autopilot. A buzzing noise filled my mind.
No. Not this. Please, not this too.
"Why not?" Sasuke whirled on me. "He killed our clan! He's a traitor to the village! I should kill him!" He paced, restless, rage and agony fueling every step. "I have to kill him."
"We don't know that. We don't know why he did it," I argued, feeling sick. My fingers dug into his sheets.
The Plot was supposed to have changed. Things were supposed to be different now! So why was Sasuke still going on like this?
Sasuke, a little kid who had just lost everything, and could only try to rationalize it with what he'd been taught. Kill or be killed. Kill to defend. Kill to avenge, and restore your family's name. Sasuke. A kid. Not a character.
This was the world I was in now. There was no escaping the shadow of death here.
"There has to be a reason," I said, desperate, scrambling to find the words that would turn him around. I couldn't let this happen. Not this. "The Itachi I know would never—"
"Shut up."
The sheer venom in his voice shocked me into stillness. His own eyes were wide, hand rising to his lips. It clenched into a fist, then fell away.
"You didn't hear him," he said hoarsely. "He didn't even care. The whole time, he never cared. He was just pretending."
"He left you alive, didn't he?" I leapt over the bed and grabbed his shoulders. Even now, he wouldn't look at me. He stared at the floor like he could see through it, and into the rooms below.
I bent my knees, trying to get him to meet my gaze. "Out of everyone, he left you. You, Sasuke. His own little brother. Itachi would do anything for you, you know that!"
"Then why did he kill them?" Sasuke cried. Tears streamed down his cheeks. "If he really cared, why did he do it? Why did he leave me behind?"
My blood ran cold.
"That's—" I opened my mouth and came up short. My hands began to tremble. Again, in the most important moment, my memory failed me.
A conspiracy was the easy answer—I knew Itachi had killed the clan before they could get up to… to something. But knowing him now, as a person and not just from fanfiction and random online articles, it couldn't be that simple. Itachi loved his family with all his heart. And he loved Sasuke the most. So why go to such drastic lengths?
If this was a story, the reason had to be one of the villains. Orochimaru was the easiest to recall, but what would he even have to do with this? He was a scientist who wanted an Uchiha body. Killing them all would be counter-productive. There was Akatsuki, but their focus was jinchuuriki, not village politics. Danzo… he was the leader of ROOT, wasn't he? He was obsessed with making Konoha stronger, and even got instated as Hokage at one point. What would he gain from losing one of the most powerful clans in Konoha?
The most logical explanation was Madara. Everyone knew how the Uchiha had overthrown him when he tried to fight Hashirama, it was even in our history books. But he would be even older than Jiji at this point. What could he do at that age? Or did he find a magic ninja hack to stay young, all this time?
"I don't know," I gasped. The weight of everything I didn't know threatened to swallow me whole. "I don't know!"
The emotion bled off Sasuke's face. "Of course you don't know." He shoved my hands off. "You wouldn't understand."
"He was my friend too, you know!" I snapped. "I trusted him! And I thought he trusted me. But still, he… he…" My hand rose to my hair clip. "You think I don't miss them too?"
"Then why do you keep defending him?"
My mouth fell open. No words came. We stared at each other, panting.
"You don't care about me." Sasuke backed away. His certainty hardened with every step, his tear-filled eyes blazing with anger. "If you did, you'd be on my side. But you don't care." His voice rose. "He killed my family, and you don't care!"
His words shot through me like a bullet. The knot in my chest was gone, cut loose, spilling its rotting contents.
If Kakashi hadn't come, would Itachi really have attacked Naruto? Would he really have tortured Sasuke with his Mangekyo?
He couldn't have. I wanted to believe he wouldn't have. Our brothers were the most important things to us, and he understood that. We shared that. The Itachi I knew would never hurt Naruto and Sasuke.
Then I remembered leaping towards him, screaming.
In that one moment between consciousness and not, a rage had taken over me—no, a terror, one so blinding, it erased every other thought. Save one.
I would have done anything to keep Itachi away from Naruto.
And that scared me more than anything.
Itachi had done everything for Sasuke's sake. If I had been in his place, would I have done the same? Could I hate him, knowing I could have done the same?
Mikoto's dull eyes stared accusingly at me.
I slapped my hands over my mouth. I was going to scream. Throw up. Both. I bolted from the room, almost crashing into Naruto just outside. Had our fight brought him running?
"Minako!"
"Leave me alone!" spilled from my lips.
Shock and hurt. Almost disbelief, mirrored in blue eyes. I turned away, because the guilt was suffocating me, drowning me, and I couldn't take any more. I was holding on to everything by a thread, and it was snapping to pieces.
A door slammed behind me. I was in another room now, bigger, with a wider closet and a dressing table across me. The bed was clearly built for two, its sheets tucked as neatly as Sasuke's.
My panting reflection mocked me. Long red hair, rough and tangled after days without care. The ever-present black marks around my eyes only deepened the hollows underneath. The black mourning clothes the Hokage had bought for us hung from my shoulders like a shroud.
Guilt curdled in my gut.
Sasuke was right. I should hate him. Hate Itachi. He killed his family. He killed the closest thing I had to a mother here, in front of me. He would've hurt my brother. Will hurt my brother, now that he was out there, on his way to Akatsuki.
But I couldn't stop thinking about him. Is he okay? Is he hurt? Does he have anything to eat out there? When will he join Akatsuki? Will they keep him safe?
The guilt was damning. Inescapable. Sasuke had lost everyone he knew and loved, and I kept fretting about their murderer.
"I can't do this," I gasped. "I can't. I can't."
Everyone was dead. Ryoji, Kiku, Takashi, Shisui, Mikoto. No cartoon flashbacks, no magic plot twists. No escape.
This wasn't a game anymore. This wasn't leaping ahead in P.E., tossing cool weapons and learning ninja magic tricks, while I basked in the hubris of thinking I could save a world.
Itachi wasn't Uchiha Itachi the tragic character, he was Itachi. Thirteen years old, gentle, loving Itachi. Itachi, who had just killed his entire family in cold blood.
Every single character I've interacted with was a person who could kill. Who could die. Who would be next? Kakashi? Shino? Sasuke?
Naruto?
I was just a kid, and everyone's lives depended on my fading knowledge of a comic book series.
"Wake up. Please wake me up." Desperate, I clung to the easiest escape, pressing my hands against my face. "This can't real, right? I can't—I just need to wake up. I can't do this. Please!"
My fist slammed against the nearest object—the cabinet door. With a harsh crack, the wood splintered under my knuckles. Unbalanced by the lack of resistance, I crashed into the cabinet. Pain pulsed in my head from where it smacked against the door, my own panting harsh in my ears. A dent in the wood's varnish mocked me.
Stupid. Ridiculous. I've been kicked and punched and cut myself on live blades, and not once did the pain send me back to the peaceful, bloodless world that I came from. There was no going back from here.
Splinters drew red lines down my arm as I pulled it out. My knuckles throbbed. The sensation was all too real, after I did something I could have never done in my previous life.
"Ninja magic," I croaked. Oh, the irony.
My chest ached. The cabinet squeaked as I slid to the ground. I buried my head in my arms, trying to hold on to… to something. Anything. Anything, that would keep me from falling apart.
"I'm scared," I whispered to my knees. "I don't know what to do."
No, I knew what I had to do. I had to pull myself together. Apologize to Naruto. Talk some sense into Sasuke. Make sure Kakashi could actually take care of Sasuke, otherwise I'd have to start cooking for four people, and I didn't know if our budget could handle that.
Start training. Prepare for the epic fights to come. Practice… practice my shuriken, my chakra control. Look at a target, and pretend it's a person's throat.
Blood, splattering across my face.
My nails dug into my skin. I gasped for breath. Mikoto's blank eyes, except there was a kunai in my hand, red from cutting across her throat.
Nonono, no, I can't do this, I can't, I can't—
Then a box fell on my head.
"Wha—" I sputtered, fighting through the blanket trying to bury me. Talk about being saved from a nightmare, only to be suffocated to death. "Are you fucking kidding me right now?"
I yanked off the offending clothes and glared. Had it fallen from the top of the closet?
Red and gold cotton spilled over my hands, a river of autumn colors. Hyacinths pooled along the floor, while chrysanthemums drifted along the kimono's eddies.
"What…"
The dark bronze obi lay crumpled by my right foot. The cord with the flower charm slid off my shoulder. Even the under-kimono sprawled in front of me, its hem still tangled in the flat box it fell out of.
My hands were trembling again.
"Why is this here?" Our birthday was months ago. Mikoto should have returned this by now. So why…
I pulled the box toward me, trying and failing not to get blood on the white cardboard. Tucked within the folds of the box was a card.
Akino Textiles: tailored kimonos for weddings, New Year's, and other special occasions!
I slumped against the cabinet. The kimono's stiff neck crunched under my knee.
"But she said it was on loan." My lips formed words. My heart thundered in my ears. "She said… she said she borrowed it from a family member. She said…"
The world blurred. Blinking cleared it away, but only for a moment. Red and gold swam in my vision. All the way at the dressing table's feet lay the box cover, one corner dented from its harsh tumble. Front and center on the white cardboard were two words, in elegant, precise strokes:
For Minako.
I covered my eyes. The scratches on my hands stung with every tear. Hadn't she patiently wiped them away, all those months ago? She would have put ointment on my knuckles already, indulging Naruto and Sasuke's argument about who exactly won their wrestling match.
"What mother wouldn't be proud of a strong, beautiful girl like you?"
Behind me, the door creaked. Hesitant footsteps paused at the edge of the room, before rushing towards me. Warm hands pulled me close, holding me in a tight embrace.
"Naruto-kun is very lucky to have a brave sister like you."
"Minako," Naruto whispered.
I clung to him, dug my nails into his biceps and buried my face in his chest. His tears dripped into my hair. I couldn't stop shaking.
"I'm sorry… I'm so sorry!"
He held me close, as I finally cried over the mother I had lost to my mistake.
A/N: I want to thank everyone for the massive support this recent arc has gotten, especially last chapter. Thank you so much. It was a joy sharing that emotional trainwreck with you all! ^_^ I know there are people eager to get back to chill times and cute kids (like me!) but I think everyone will understand when I say it'll take us a few more chapters to get there. I don't think anyone wants the kids to unbelievably bounce back from this whole mess easy peasy either. Minako and Naruto will get their push soon enough.
