"The moon has come out
Oh, the moon has come out, heave ho
Over the coal mine the moon has come out."
Ichirou idly scratched his nose, head instinctively bobbing along to the song Kenichi was singing in his deep baritone. The man had a good voice and his company was not bad on the road; his sword arm even better during the long nights.
"I didn't know K-Kenichi-san could sing," Ryou said in a queer sort of voice, his dark eyes pensive.
Ichirou rolled his eyes at his younger brother and elbowed him in the ribs. "You've heard him around the warehouse, helping Father move and guard the silk from Tea Country. Oh wait- I forgot, you're always hiding out in your room with the latest book from Kojiro's!"
"Nothing wrong with reading a good book or two," Ryou muttered, rubbing his side with exaggerated motion. "Besides, I have to make up for all the books you and Riku-kun don't read."
"I read and help Mother with the accounts and that's enough book-reading for any man," Ichirou grinned and flicked Ryou's forehead. "Be grateful you're the second son, brat."
"Nii-san!" Ryou squirmed as he slid on the precarious edge of the wagon, feet dangling dangerously close to the moving dirt path below them.
"Stop teasing the baby, Ichi," Riku's lazy voice floated towards the back. "I don't want to explain to Auntie how I came to lose my little baby cousin on his first big boy trip outside the village."
"I'm fifteen!" Ryou said indignantly.
"An ickle wee bairn," Ichirou agreed and easily dodged Ryou's punch aimed at his shoulder. "Gotta be quicker than that, bratling."
"Halt!"
The wagon slowly creaked to a stop, old Jin stomping her feet and shaking the reins Riku held in his hands. Ichirou scrambled off the edge of the wagon and grabbed the leather satchel at his side, racing towards the front where Riku was swinging down from the saddle.
"Where's the voice coming from?" Ryou whispered at Ichirou's elbow as Riku dug through the satchel and pulled out a carefully wrapped packet in oilcloth.
"Shinobi," Ichirou whispered back and watched Ryou's dark eyes widen.
"State your name and purpose," the voice echoed, bouncing off the walls of the rock canyon and turning into an entire chorus of questions.
Ever-confident Riku's voice shook a little as he answered. "Watanabe Riku, of Watanabe Textiles, shinobi-san. We come to beg entrance to Iwagakure."
There was a long silence; reassuringly Kenichi appeared behind Ryou, his tall, broad frame dwarfing his little brother and admittedly, Ichriou's own. He was about to open his mouth to reassure Ryou, when the shinobi-san appeared.
In the span between one heartbeat and another, a man simply grew out of the ground in front of Riku. There was no other word for it. Ichirou had only ever seen shinobi a few times before, when he followed Father to Kumogakure, but no ninja he had ever seen had simply risen from the ground, like a fey being rising from the earth. He even looked like a rock, covered in a dusty brown chest plate, with long one cotton sleeve of crimson red covering his right arm. A silver forehead protector, engraved with the twin boulder of Iwa, gleamed on his dark head.
"Your papers, Watanabe Riku," the man rumbled.
Riku mutely handed the packet over.
The man deftly unwrapped the package and flipped through the papers in what seemed like an eternity, even though Ichirou knew it was only, perhaps, a few seconds. The man finally grunted and carelessly rewrapped the bundle, handing it over to Riku. "You may wait inside the post while we draw up your paperwork and find a guide for you."
RIku bowed and Ichirou followed suit, giving Ryou a warning look to mind his manners before he did so. "Thank you, shinobi-san. We are in your debt." When Ichirou looked up from the ground, the shinobi was gone. The only thing that marked his presence was the slight ripple of dirt where he had stood, but even that too faded away after a few minutes.
"Wow," Ryou breathed out shakily.
"Yeah," Ichirou agreed, feeling just as nervous as Ryou looked.
"Shinobi," Riku muttered, shaking his head and handed the oilcloth back to Ichirou. "Pack this safe, cuz."
Ichirou took it back obediently and tucked it back into the satchel, swinging it over his shoulder when he was done. "We can put Jin and the wagon over behind that clump of rocks, they should be safe enough there."
Ryou looked at him, incredulous. "No one's going to steal them?"
"Child, no one's fool enough to steal from an Iwa outpost," Kenichi said, his voice quiet. "Stealing is a serious offense, punishable by death."
"So don't you worry none, baby cuz," Riku said breezily, clapping Ryou's shoulders heartily. "It's real cute when you get all worried though."
"Oh, shut up Riku," Ryou mumbled, the tips of his ears burning a little. "Don't we have to go inside anyway?"
Inside turned out to be a dubious looking cavern in the side of the rock canyon, so gloomy and dank looking that even the sunlight seemed afraid to enter its depths.
"Are you sure about this?" Ichirou asked, raising a dark eyebrow skeptically.
"Just trust me on this," Riku said lightly, but it sounded a little forced to his ears. Holding his breath, Ichirou walked into the dark cave and into light.
It was like passing through a sheet of freezing cold water. He shuddered for one long moment and when he opened his eyes, he had entered an entirely different world. Instead of a dark cave, he had entered the inside of a castle from the storybooks. The walls were lined with gleaming crystal rocks that glowed an eerie luminescent color, giving everything a strange green cast. He looked up and saw strange designs mark the domed ceiling, swirling around massive chunks of stone shot through with light. Ichirou couldn't help gripping the strap on his shoulder a little harder.
"Can I help you?"
In front of them, a ninja writing in a fat book looked up from his worktable, his dark face ghoulish in the strange light. Behind him, a huge wall rose up from the ground and all the way up to the domed ceiling, sealing the secrets of the shinobi behind stone that looked to be as thick as a rich man's waist.
"Watanabe Textiles," Riku began but the ninja waved his hand and cut him off.
"Oh yeah, Masashi mentioned you guys. Alright, have a seat, we'll have your papers done soon enough. " He returned back to scribbling in his book and Riku turned around, shrugging a little.
They shuffled towards the benches lining one wall of the cavern. The seats looked like they were grown from the ground and the wall, worn smooth by countless bottoms over the years. Ryou swung himself down, Kenichi at his side and Riku at his other. Ichirou remained standing, looking far beyond the ninja at the desk and the huge stone walls that he was guarding.
"Nii-san, what are you-"
Ichirou shrugged a little and the strap slid on his shoulder. "I have to go to the bathroom," he said and the need in him grew so much he knew that if he didn't go to the bathroom now, there was a terrible chance he might just explode from an overly full bladder.
"Jeez, couldn't you have taken care of it outside?" In the strange light, Ryou's look of disgust looked kind of like one of the demon masks they sold at festivals.
"They probably have plumbing," Ichirou pointed out. Running water! Soap! Flushing toilets! Ichirou missed civilization. "Anyway it can't hurt to ask."
"Your neck," Riku said, flicking his dark hair out of his eyes with a toss of his head. "Well, guess I'll just tell Uncle Jiro that Ryou'll be the one inheriting instead."
"Not funny." Ichirou punched Riku's shoulder, probably a little harder than he should have, but the jerk deserved it. He made his way back to the desk, heart thumping in his chest and the opportunity of using a bathroom hovering right behind those stone walls.
"E-excuse me, shinobi-san?"
"What is it?" The man didn't bother to look up from his work.
"Would it be possible, er, if I could use your bathroom?"
The man put down his pen and raised an eyebrow. "You want to use our bathroom."
Ichirou nodded, heart in his throat. "Running water," he croaked. "We've been travelling for weeks and if you would be so kind, shinobi-san..."
The man sighed. "Damned civilians," he muttered and dug through one of the drawers in the desk, fishing out a stained and crumpled looking piece of paper with some beautiful calligraphy on it. Person where? Ichirou could barely make heads or tails of the writing on it.
"Bag," the ninja demanded and Ichirou obediently handed over the leather satchel. The ninja opened it up and carelessly rifled through the contents; Ichirou tried not to wince when he saw how rudely the man handled their travel papers and the packet of dried persimmons Mother had packed for the journey.
"Alright, your bag's clean," he grunted. "Now, give me your arm."
Swallowing, Ichirou hesitantly bared his arm and held it over to the shinobi, who slapped the paper onto his skin. It burned like a hot coal and Ichirou gasped, bluish white dots sparking at the edges of his vision.
"Pansy ass," the man snorted. The pain slowly subsided and the characters on the seal were now burned onto his forearm, the edges of the black marks glowing a soft, faint blue.
"You go anywhere you're not supposed to, I'll know," the man growled, making the hairs on the back of Ichirou's neck slowly rise.
"Yes sir," he gasped. Suddenly, the prospect of using the bathroom didn't seem as thrilling as before. The man pushed his chair back and stood up, knees audibly popping as he did so. He did something strange with his fingers and suddenly a small door appeared in the wall behind the desk, a doorknob slowly molding itself into shape.
"Straight down the hallway, make a right and it'll be the second door on your left. Straight there and back and if you go anywhere else-" the man jerked his head at Ryou and Riku, who were the conversation watching with wide eyes. "Understand?"
"Yes," Ichirou said and nodded furiously.
"Good." The man settled back down into his chair, picked up his pen and began writing in his mysterious book again. Ichirou quickly swiped his bag off the table and skirted around it, heading for the door in the wall. The doorknob felt cold to the touch. There was no turning back. Ichirou resisted the urge to look back at his brother and opened the door.
Ichirou looked at the mirror and his pale, dark-haired self stared back, the strap of a dark eyepatch cutting neatly through his slicked back hair. With trembling fingers he raised the patch up and pulled it off his head, setting it down on the edge of the sink with trembling fingers. A scar cut through his left eyelid and a good inch into his cheek. It was cold to the touch. Ichirou opened his left eye and watched as the eye of a demon came to life in his reflection.
"I am Hatake Kakashi."
The tomoe of the eye swirled furiously, until the pinwheel of dark blots became a circle of black ringing his pupil. "Kai," he whispered and the illusion shattered.
Kakashi staggered towards the toilet and retched violently, falling clumsily onto his knees. For one terrifying moment he had no idea what was up or down and clung helplessly to the toilet bowl, his greased hair sticking to his clammy cheek. The only certainty in his life was the constant wave of nausea wracking his stomach.
In what seemed like an eternity, reality slowly fell back into place, piece by piece. The dry heaves slowly stopped and Kakashi wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, grimacing at the sharp taste of bile. Moving carefully, he reached out for the metal handle and pulled down, flushing away his sick.
He hadn't expected the backlash to hit him quite so hard. Kakashi stood up carefully, letting tiny streams of chakra flood through his limbs and lend him strength to carefully walk over to the sink. He turned on the faucet and splashed his face with deliciously cool water, cupping it in his hands and greedily drinking it in.
The entire week leading up to their stop here, he had worked extensively on his Liar's Palace, building up Watanabe Ichirou in a small corner of his mind- slowly putting together the eldest son of a middling class merchant from a rural village in Lightning Country, protective older brother and heir to a business that had been passed down from father to son for generations. It was standard practice to build and maintain a cover in infiltration missions. But the Sharingan helped him take it a step further and briefly be the cover- the room where he had set aside for Watanabe became his illusory mind and Kakashi had retreated into the far corner of himself, letting the cover play out by itself, only impressing vague suggestions and thoughts onto Ichirou's mind.
With the Sharingan, the Liar's Palace became more than a defense mechanism for a spy and an illusion so complete that he forgot who he was. Needless to say, it was also incredibly dangerous and possibly could labeled as a kinjutsu, if Kakashi ever got around to writing it all down and submitting it to the Hokage for review. Six hours hiding in the Liar's Palace and Kakashi had nearly collapsed in the bathroom, the backlash was so severe.
The sooner they reached Iwa, the better.
Kakashi wiped his face dry with the edge of his rough cotton shirt. Crouching down on the ground, he rummaged through the satchel and pulled out a thin bamboo tube; with a twist of his wrist he uncapped it, revealing several thin writing brushes and a vial of ink. A traveling writing case, suitable for any man on the road.
Kakashi pulled out a hair-thin brush and uncapped the vial of ink, sniffing at the potent mix of blood and chakra infused charcoal ink. Carefully, he dipped the brush and set about adding slight modifications to his forearm seal. The original was slipshod work and it made Kakashi almost ashamed to have it be seen on him. The tiny modifications he was adding released a false tracking signal to the master map the guardsman had inlaid on the desk, fading away into his skin after ten minutes.
More than enough time to get a little intel on Iwa and if he was lucky, their target.
Kakashi summoned strength for a simple genjutsu, one that allowed him to blend into the shadows and wrapped the satchel tightly around his hips, using the strap as a makeshift belt. Quietly, he slipped out of the bathroom and melted away into the darkness.
"Nii-san, are you alright? You look a little sick."
Ichirou rubbed the back of his neck, slick with styling grease from his hair. "I'm fine, I think it's just the air in here that's getting to me."
Ryou looked up at him with suspicious eyes. "You were in there for an awfully long time, you know."
"Nature's call," Ichirou said, fiddling a little with the strap on his shoulder. "Why are you talking so much anyway? Little children should be seen, not heard."
"Worst older brother-"
"Knock it off you two." Riku sauntered over to the two of them, followed by a battered looking ninja dressed in dark cargo pants, a dirty brown vest and a crimson shirt with a single sleeve, just like the ninja they had met in the rock canyon. "Try and act your ages, we've got important company. This here is Sabu, he'll be our guide to Iwagakure."
Ichirou's back instantly straightened and he bowed deeply, palms in front of his chest like his Mother had taught him. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Sabu-san. Thank you for graciously guiding us to the village." Ryou followed a beat later, his greetings a quiet murmur.
"Yeah, whatever," Sabu said, rolling his dark eyes. "Just keep out my way, no talking, no trying to discover the village's hidden secrets, etcetera etcetera."
"We're only simple merchants," Ichirou smiled. "How could we ever hurt such a strong village of shinobi?"
"A real featherbed," Riku sighed, sinking onto the mattress and shucking off his sandals. "Bless this village."
Ryou settled on the other side of the bed, trying not to look around everywhere and look like a country bumpkin. The entire building looked like a termite mound (something he had only ever seen pictures of in books), with small round windows and smooth curved walls that made the rooms seem more like burrows than real houses. There were two simple beds, a writing desk made of granite and an old television in the corner of the room.
"Even old man Ikku has a better TV than that," Ryou commented lightly, toeing the smooth floor with the tip of his sandal.
"Iwa might be one of the most powerful shinobi villages, but they don't have too many civilians in their village. They have to import a lot of the stuff that they can't make because they don't have enough people to, like TVs and ramen," Riku said, fluffing up his pillow and settling down on it with a content sigh. "It's expensive, so a lot of stuff they just keep using and reusing until they really need to buy 'em."
"And we're here to take advantage of that," Ryou said slowly, putting together the pieces in his head. "And that's why Father was so excited to have the contract from the village?"
"Uncle Jiro beat out fifteen other cloth merchants," Riku said, a touch smugly. "Iwa has money from doing so many missions and they like to have contracts out with people for years and years, it cuts down the price when they buy in bulk and it fosters good relationships. Uncle Jiro won a five year one on the condition that we travel here every summer."
Ryou remembered the day Father and Jiro came back from their visit to the capital, clattering off the wagon and into the house in a rush of stamping feet and shouts. That night they had fresh tuna and Ichirou had brought back a new book on the seven wonders of Lightning Country; he was already reading it under the table while Father said grace for the sumptuous evening meal.
"We pull this off and we'll be set for life, little Ryou-chan," Riku said, reaching over from his side of the bed to ruffle Ryou's hair. Ryou yelped and tried to fend off the attack but Riku was much bigger and stronger than him, his big arms circling around him. Ryou resigned himself to defeat.
"Hey, Ryou, Riku, can you come over to the bathroom for a second?"
The pressure on his arms lifted and Ryou matched Riku's puzzled expression. Nii-san sounded- a little off, for some reason. He slid off the bed, cousin Riku following him, and made his way over to the bathroom in the far corner of the room, a tiny sliver of light jutting out from the crack of the open door.
"What is it, Nii-san? Are you alright?"
"Just, come in for a second, both of you."
Ichirou's voice sounded different, rougher and much more tense. Had he hurt himself? Ryou swallowed and pushed open the door, half-expecting to see his brother collapsed on the floor in a pool of blood. Instead, he met the eye of a demon, spinning lazily in his brother's face.
"Kai," Ichirou whispered and Ryou's entire world fell apart.
"What the goddamned fucking shit was that?" Genma croaked, wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve. Kakashi handed him a canteen of water, which he accepted, hand shaking a little.
"Genjutsu backlash," Kakashi said, watching the other man's Adam's apple bob as he greedily drank down the water. Tenzou was sitting on the tiled floor, leaning his head against wooden cabinet underneath the sink, brown hair plastered to his sweaty face.
"Raidou-san?"
"Puking in the bathroom in the other room. I released him while you two were indisposed."
"Indisposed?" Genma shot Kakashi a dirty look, setting down the empty canteen on the edge of the sink with an audible thunk. "Damn near killed me is what it did. The first time we did it, I just felt a little queasy, nothing too bad. This time-" Genma shook his head, strands of hair falling out of the elegant plait hanging down his back. "This time, I thought I was gonna puke all my guts out."
"I warned you all that the full effects haven't been studied, I've never had it hold this long. Seems like the longer it takes, the harder it becomes to pull out your Liar's Palace." Kakashi shrugged, stuffing his hands in his pockets. It was something he'd come up with while practicing with Obito's eye during the end of the war and later developed while mucking around with Mangekyo after Team Seven had split. The longest he'd ever had to use it before was an hour, maybe two, in order to infiltrate castles and mansions on the occasional mission. Never for something this complex and dangerous.
"It got the job done," Tenzou said quietly from his place on the floor, his voice harsh and raspy. "We're in Iwagakure now."
Kakashi hunched his shoulders over and desperately wished that he had a mask back to hide his face. "I'll go check on Raidou," he said and walked out of the bathroom. The door to the adjoining room was only a feet over but it seemed to take an eternity. They were in Iwa now- Kakashi touched Obito's eye which throbbing angrily, sharp spikes of pain lancing through his head.
(The first thing he had ever seen with this eye was Obito's half-crushed face, his eye-socket hollow and bloody.)
Kakashi pulled open the door and met Raidou face to face, the other man's hand reaching out for the doorknob.
"Good timing, chief," Raidou said and Kakashi stepped to the side, letting him pass through the doorway and into the room.
"How're you feeling?"
"Like I got punched by Tsunade after getting caught peepin' on the ladies," Raidou said, shutting the door closed behind him and locking it with a twist of his fingers. "You?"
"Fine," Kakashi said.
Raidou raised an eyebrow but didn't make any comment on Kakashi's health, which he was grudgingly grateful for. "I'll go check on Genma and the rookie, sounds like they didn't have too good of a time of it."
Kakashi cocked an ear, Genma's faint curses floating from behind the closed bathroom door and into the main room. The corner of his mouth tugged up. "Get the two of them here, we're having a meeting in five."
Raidou saluted, two fingers to his temple. "Aye aye, Captain Boss Man," he said. Kakashi nodded back and moved over to the satchel he'd left on the writing desk, digging through it deftly and pulling out the writing case and the packet of persimmons wrapped in oilcloth and stamped with the mark of HANAJIRO GROCERS. He untied it to reveal a bundle of tightly wrapped chakra imbued scrolls.
He unrolled one on the table, uncapped the writing case and opened Obito's eye. (The first man he'd ever killed with it was an Iwa nin.) With swift, even strokes Kakashi drew out the sprawling map imprinted onto his brain, the image flowing down smoothly from his mind, down his arm and onto the scroll. (The last mission Father went on was in Iwa.)
A few seconds later, he closed Obito's eye and looked down at the detailed map sprawled all over the scroll, the bloody-red shimmer of the ink fading away to a normal black. "It nevers gets old, seeing that," Raidou said over Kakashi's shoulder.
"I'm a one-trick pony," Kakashi said and drew a tiny vial of sand from the writing case and sprinkled it lightly over the drying ink. The chakra enhanced sand glowed a bright blue for a brief second and then faded; Kakashi carefully gathered up the scroll and poured the sand back into the vial. "Enjoy the show."
"Sir, are you-" Raidou's breath was hot against the back of neck. Kakashi fought the urge to grab the kunai hidden in the sole of his sandal. "Are you sure you're alright?"
Kakashi was quiet for a long moment. "Not really," he said. "But neither are you."
"Yeah," Raidou breathed out. "Yeah, Danzou knew what he was doing, sending us here."
Three veterans of the Third Shinobi War. Three veterans that had grown up in the shadow of war, taught to hate and fear Iwa. Three veterans who had lost family and friends to Iwagakure. Danzou was very, very clever.
Kakashi rolled up the scroll and turned around, moving the minute Raidou obligingly stepped out of the way. Genma and Tenzou scowled up at him from the floor, huddled in some blankets and sheets they had scrounged out of the linen closet. It looked even sillier considering the fact that they were sitting seiza, knees on the ground, hands clasped on their thighs. Kakashi settled himself down on the floor, cross-legged, and unrolled the map on the ground.
"I managed to look through the files in the outpost and caught a look at some of the maps and files they have there." Kakashi pointed at the section labeled GU WARD with his index finger, right where the Main Street cut it into a neat half. "That's where we are right now."
"Ah, the good old bathroom trick," Genma said with forced cheer. "So that's what you were doing at the outpost."
Kakashi started to smile and stopped, caught off-balance by the absence of his face-mask sliding against his skin. Without it, he'd have to be more careful about guarding his emotions. "This here is the Tsuchikage Tower, the armory, the mission control center." Kakashi pointed at the center of the map, all clustered in the section clearly labeled KO WARD. "And here's the main market we're setting up our stall in for the next two weeks." Kakashi pointed at KYU WARD, just a few streets over from the Tower.
"We have four weeks to accomplish our mission," Kakashi said, making eye contact with each member of his team. "The target must be eliminated by that time, since our merchant permits expire at that point."
"Is he even in the village?" Raidou asked, rocking on the balls of his feet next to Genma's huddled form. "We made it all the way here but he could be out of the village on a long-term for all we know."
"Oh, he's here," Kakashi said and smiled thinly. "When I was the outpost, I checked their logs and saw that Gari had been passing by with a team of genin. They were on a quick escort mission from the village to the border, just a few days ago."
"A jounin-sensei? We'll have to make sure the kids don't get in the way," Genma said, fingers wrapped tightly in the edge of a bedsheet. "They'll be loose ends."
Kakashi nodded sharply and tried not to think of his own kids waiting back home. "For the first week, were just going to be collecting intelligence. Set up the stall in the market, make contacts, interact with the locals. Figure out his pattern with his team: where he eats, where he sleeps. This is his home turf, he'll be comfortable here. He's going to make mistakes. We need to capitalize on that."
"No more genjutsu," Tenzou put in quietly, the shadows under his eyes a bruised purple. "We needed it to get here, but no more. We can accomplish the mission without it."
Kakashi considered Tenzou's tiny form across from him, all bundled up in white sheets, nothing but a tiny wisp of a face and big brown eyes. "I'll take it under consideration," he said and ignored how his throat tightened when Tenzou nodded back silently.
"Never thought I'd ever be this close to Iwa after the end of the war," Genma said, tugging at a loose thread in his thick blanket. "Seven years, huh? Seems just like yesterday."
"I don't have to remind everyone that personal motives are not allowed to interfere with the parameters of the mission, do I?" Kakashi asked, looking Genma intently in the eyes.
"Of course not Captain," Raidou said smoothly and thumped Genma's back heartily. "Genma's just being a nostalgic dick."
"Yeah, just old Genma being crotchety at usual. Don't mind me, sir." Genma's smile didn't quite reach his eyes, a strange caricature of his normally easy going expression.
Kakashi took what he could get and ignored the stink of deceit emanating from his subordinates. "I'll take first watch, everyone else get some rest while you can. It's going to be a long month."
Fugaku shuffled his notes on the budget for the Police Force, giving Aburame an absent nod as the other Clan Head passed by his seat. Danzou was probably going to argue over the operating budget for the Force again, dragging out the most minute details into an agony of discussion so mundane that Fugaku's temples were throbbing already in anticipation. Every week he met with the Council and every week he poured rice wine to honor his ancestors and begged them to strike the old wart with lightning.
There was a quiet rush of scraping chairs as everyone settled into their respective seats, the Hokage at the head of the long rectangular table, flanked by his advisors Koharu and Homura. "We shall now begin the two thousand, five hundred and sixty second session of the meeting of the Great Council of Konohagakure," Hokage-sama intoned solemnly and Fugaku withheld a sigh. And Mikoto wondered why his blood pressure was rising!
The Hokage finished the opening ceremonial words and Fugaku, with a resigned gaze, watched Danzou open his mouth.
"I would like to reintroduce bill 56AB concerning admission to the Academy."
Fugaku drew in a sharp breath, feeling as if someone had just slipped a kunai between his ribs.
"Seconded," Inuzuka said, insolently flashing her fangs at Fugaku.
"Hokage-sama," Fugaku forced out with clenched teeth. "I was under the impression that the bill was blocked."
"As a Councilman, I can re-sponsor a bill to be introduced to the Council," Danzou cut in, his wretched voice a pain to endure. Fugaku drew in another ragged breath and fought the instinctive urge to let his eyes bleed red.
"I was under the impression," Fugaku continued as if he hadn't heard the man speak, "that this bill calls for an unfair admissions policy that discriminates against those with kekkei genkai, specifically- specifically those with doujutsu." Specifically the Uchiha.
"I too, as well, harbor doubts about the validity of this bill," Hiashi said, his voice a touch stronger than normal. In this, at least, they were united.
"Danzou has legitimate concerns," Kotone, the old bat, said. Legitimate! A piece of paper with dog shit smeared all over it had more legitimacy than him. "How can we forget Setsuna Uchiha's uprising against the Village? Not only were they all highly skilled shinobi but they also focused their attack on the Academy, with the help of the Uchiha studying there."
"Madara was also known for his ability to manipulate the Nine Tailed Fox-"
"The Uchiha have proved themselves to be innocent, what more do you-"
"Enough."
In an instant, the room quieted, partly from the strength of the Hokage's voice, but also from his immense aura which blanketed the room like a suffocating fog. Fugaku gripped his armrests and focused on controlling his breathing. In. Out. In. Out.
"We shall table the matter and return to it on another day, when our tempers are cooler and we can discuss it without devolving into petty arguments."
"Yes, Hokage-sama," the room murmured as one.
Fugaku kept his mouth tightly shut.
"The Clan cannot stand such slights to its honor," Elder Miyamoto said gravely. "Joining with the Village was supposed to have brought us prosperity but all the Village does is accuse us with wrongs we have never committed."
"Uchiha Madara was right," croaked another Elder. "We have become second to the Senju. We, who joined the Senju in creating the first Hidden Village, we who have built this Village into what it is- is this how we are to be treated? Second to the Senju, ostracized and excluded because of our kekkei genkai, because of our power!"
"We must act! We must!" Miyamoto rumbled and was answered by a chorus of agreeing murmurs.
Fugaku heard the rustle of silk at his side and saw Itachi stand up, shaking the wrinkles out of his hakama. "What are you-"
"Elders, fellow clansmen, Father." Itachi bowed deferentially, lower than was expected of the Clan heir. Fugaku felt his heart sink, half-hearing the surprised mutters of the clans members in the room and the elders' harsh whispers.
"You speak of rising against the Village. A coup d'etat-"
"You speak out of place, young one," Miyamoto said, setting his cup of rice wine down on his table with a solid thunk.
"When the Elders' speak of the traitor Uchiha Madara in a positive light, this one grows concerned," Itachi said, his deceptively smooth voice as sharp as a whip. "Your words call for a break with a village, to killing the Senju we have formed a century long covenant with. Have the elders calculated the cost of such talk? Much blood will be shed, with one clan against tens of others, no matter the fact that we have the Sharingan. Konoha is home of the Byakugan, the Inuzuka nose, the Aburame kikkai, the Nara's Shadow Techniques, the Yamanaka's mind control and the Akimichi's body modification techniques, to name just a few. And that is just the lives of the Uchiha who will be lost- what about our honor? Our dignity? Do you truly think that by lashing out against the village, we will gain honor? Dignity? The respect of others?"
Fugaku closed his eyes as the contempt in Itachi's normally soft voice grew, gripping the edges of his cushion, his knuckles whitening.
"No. What the Village will see and what I see is the pathetic attempt of a Clan to prove others wrong by kicking them in the shin. Are we children or are we shinobi who have helped found this village? We can do better than this, we can be better than this. We can rise above these petty means and keep the Village together. We can gain respect through being good people and good ninja and good villagers. Whether we like it or not, we are the people of the Village Hidden in the Leaves."
"Fugaku-sama, I commend you on raising such a naive child," Elder Kakeru said, his dark eyes narrow. "It seems he still hasn't learnt the meaning of strength as a shinobi."
"On the contrary, Elder Kakeru, I think Itachi-kun knows every meaning," Shisui cut in, slamming his hands on his table and rattling the bottle of rice wine. "Just because you're too blinded by power and your own-"
"Enough," Fugaku said and flared his chakra. The room instantly quieted and Itachi and Shisui settled back on their cushions again with mutinous looks. Fugaku restrained the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose; weakness was not allowed.
"We will have a discussion later," Fugaku said quietly to his son and then raised his voice to address the entire room. "I apologize on behalf of my son," he said and bowed. "I will, of course, take all of your advice and counsel to heart and think it over very deeply. Thank you."
With that clear dismissal, Fugaku stood up from his cushion and swept out of the room, feeling every stare pierce his back.
Itachi followed him out of the room, his own small dark shadow fast on his heels. When they were far away enough from the room, he turned around, careful not to raise his voice.
"What were you thinking? You know how the Elders are and they are right in their own way. You dishonor me and your mother by displaying your arrogance and speaking out without a thought for custom or manners. You and Shisui!" Fugaku sighed and rubbed his temples.
"I apologize for causing you pain, Father, but I cannot just stand aside and watch the Clan dig itself its own grave. This is madness-"
"Madness is Danzou taking every chance to twist my words and step on the back of the Uchiha. Madness is the Hokage standing by and watching this happen. Madness is when the entire village points its fingers and thinks we killed the Yondaime Hokage and hundreds of shinobi. Madness is when they have locked us away in this village within a village, threatening to keep our children from the Academy. What am I supposed to do, Itachi? Stand aside and watch my people suffer?" Fugaku drew in a ragged breath and clenched his right hand into a tight fist, holding it over his heart. "I am trying to make life better for you and Sasuke, so that when you too grow older and take my place, this will all just be a memory in the past. Listen to the elders and their wisdom, Itachi." Please.
If Itachi heard his silent plea, he gave no sign of it. Instead, his beloved son, his best and brightest and his heir, bowed. "Yes, Father."
Fugaku wondered why it felt like his own heart heart was breaking.
"The situation grows dangerous," Danzou mused, his voice echoing in the dank underground air.
"As expected, Hatake has left the country, sir."
Danzou looked down at the kneeling figure below him and tapped his cane of the ground. "Good. As strong as he is, he is predictable. A pity, he could have been as great as Sakumo at his peak. Still, he should have known better than to meddle where he isn't wanted."
"Yes, sir. Reports from the Uchiha compound have also arrived. It seems the situation is accelerating."
"They've always been the impatient sort. Enact Executive Order Dark Horse, as planned. It's time we dealt with this nuisance to the Village."
"Yes, sir. And about the Heir, should we-?"
Danzou walked over to the spartan wooden desk and chair in the corner of the room, occupied only by a single metal lamp and a manila folder. "I'm told that Hatake is the one to nominate him for service?"
"Yes, sir."
"I have no use for fools like that. After this mission is fulfilled, I have another infiltration mission for you. Iwagakure, this time." Danzou picked up the manila folder on the desk and handed it over to the kneeling figure. "I trust you'll do well, Kabuto?"
"To the best of my ability, Danzou-sama," Kabuto bowed, his glasses gleaming from reflected light.
"Good. Travel safely."
Danzou turned off the lamplight and the room plunged into darkness.