Officially, it was just the beginning of another day in the Uchiha compound, dawn's morning light casting playful shadows across the rice paper screens. Mikoto swept into the main hall with soft, careful steps, carrying a basket of old, dull kunai against her hip, a bag full of sharpening stones in her other hand. There was a subtle ripple in the room as dark heads tilted up at her entrance, countless pairs of steady black eyes flicking up to meet her own. Uchiha eyes.
Mikoto nodded, once, and everyone looked back down again, the constant thrum of scraping metal continuing on, unceasing, broken only by the sharp, sudden cry of a hungry infant demanding to be fed.
"Sister, dear, it looks as if you've brought the entire armory with you," came the low, teasing voice, and Mikoto's mouth curved up in a small grin.
"Not quite," Mikoto said, her eyes flitting over to the basket her sister held against her chest, nearly identical to her own, "as much as you, I think, Kiyoko."
Kiyoko smiled back ruefully, and if it was a touch strained, well, Mikoto could only guess it was no worse than her own. "I've been putting it off," she said simply, "for a day like this."
Mikoto looked across the hall, where mothers skillfully sharpened kunai with deft hands, babes strapped to their backs, and grandmothers stitched layers of silk steel into armor with nothing more than a single string of chakra and the Sharingan gleaming in their eyes. The women spoke in cool, low voices, about the weather, the children, about anything but the taut tension running through the room, the teetering calm balancing on the knife's edge, threatening to shatter at any moment.
"Shall we sit? There's still some room by the doors to the garden," Kiyoko said. She gestured over to the eastern side of the hall, rice paper screens tucked away to let the morning light in. Mikoto nodded and followed her sister, passing through clusters of women, their chakra signatures flickering in response to hers in silent support.
We know, we know, we know, Mikoto read, in their dark, glittering eyes, so much like her own. Like Sasuke's.
Mikoto couldn't help but turn away, focusing steadily on the shadow her sister cast in front of her, until they reached the other side. Kiyoko settled herself onto a soft cushion, impatiently brushing aside the wild dark curls of hair that fell in her eyes, coming loose from the messy bun on the top of her head.
"One of these days, I'm definitely going to cut it."
"You've been saying that since you were seven," Mikoto said absently, pulling a stone out from the cloth bag and picking up a kunai with the other. She held it up to the light, noticing the deep knicks running down the center, the handle still wet with oil. It was one of Itachi's she'd found while going through his hamper the other day, picking out all the blood-stained clothes to wash separately.
"I'm really going to do it this time," Kiyoko laughed, as if she didn't quite believe herself either. She held a wickedly sharp dagger in her hand, working on giving it an even keener edge. "And did you know, Shisui's been saying he wants to grow it out too, as if his hair doesn't give him enough trouble as it is."
There was a slight, almost unnoticeable hitch after Shisui's name, small enough that Mikoto would never have caught it, if she hadn't felt the same hitch in her own throat every time she thought of her own boys.
"He'd look good with long hair," Mikoto said, clearing her throat. "Itachi's had his hair long for years now, I barely remember what he looked like when it was still short."
The two of them fell silent, the conversation suddenly petering out.
Mikoto looked over at Kiyoko's round face, catching the gray hairs streaked through her hair, the crows' feet wrinkling at the corners of her eyes, and wondered how it had come to this, how the two of them sat in silence as they sent their boys to fight in endless, empty wars, and waited to lose them.
Nearly a month ago, Sasuke disappeared.
Three weeks ago, Shisui took on a faceless mask and slipped into the shadows.
Last night, Itachi strapped on his bone-white armor, settled his black ANBU cloak over his shoulders, and slipped through the windows into the night, following the fluttering dark wings of the messenger hawk.
Today, the Elders would meet for one last time, and decide. She left Fugaku sitting alone at the kitchen table, looking blankly over a blood-bound scroll that called for strength and fire and another endless, empty war to fill with the blood of Uchiha children.
Mikoto breathed in deeply and closed her eyes, letting the exhaustion wash over her in suffocating waves. One more day, one more breath, one more-
Chakra flared, wild and bright, and instantly the entire room rose to their feet as one, blades in hand. Sharingan glittered in soft, round faces and harsh, wrinkled ones, tomoe swirling as intent swelled up in the room, to defend, to protect, to kill.
Mikoto rose up slowly, the last one to do so, holding Itachi's half-sharpened kunai in her hand. It couldn't have- was it-
The chakra signature, Fugaku's chakra signature flared again, and suddenly the rice screen leading to the entrance ripped open violently, paper torn from the force of it. Fugaku staggered through, his gaunt face set in stone.
Mikoto's heart clenched, felt the bile rise up in her throat, as the room began to gently spin around her.
"They found him. He's alive. He's in the hospital."
Itachi's old kunai landed on the tatami mats with a dull thunk. Mikoto looked down at her hands, unseeing. He's alive, he's alive, he's alive-
A warm arm wrapped around her shoulders and Mikoto looked up -when had she fallen to the floor, she thought distantly- to see Itachi's bloodied face peering down at her tiredly, Fugaku standing above his shoulder, tears falling silently down his face in echo. "I'm sorry, Mother," he said, gentle. "I'm sorry you had to wait so long." He closed his eyes, his whole body trembling. "I couldn't even get Danzou, he'd disappeared by the time we got there."
Mikoto raised a shaking hand to wipe the tears dripping steadily down his nose and darkening the front of her apron, leaving wet, round spots. "My dear, dear boy," she wept, hugging him close. Itachi hugged her back tightly, still clad in armor, reeking of sweat and blood and life, her boys were alive.
There was a distinctive clink as Itachi moved, pulling away from her hug after a long moment, inexplicably. Mikoto watched in bewilderment as Itachi turned toward Kiyoko, her confusion mirrored in her sister's face.
Fugaku lowered his head, his hand coming to rest gently on Mikoto's shoulder, his body radiating a familiar, comforting warmth.
"Aunt Kiyoko," Itachi bowed deeply. Too deeply.
Kiyoko blinked, slowly, as her face became utterly still, the confusion settling into emptiness.
"He saved Sasuke's life," Itachi said, slowly, and the taut, teetering tension that filled the room snapped. Itachi held his two worn hands out, fingers unfolding to reveal Shisui's dogtags.
The room was entirely silent except for a subtle drip, drip, drip and Mikoto slowly realized that it was the sound of blood slowly falling onto the tatami mats. Her sister's blood. She still held the dagger she'd been working on, the just-sharpened edge of the blade digging into the meaty flesh of her palm.
"I'm sorry," Itachi wept, eyes flickering from red to black and back again through glittering tears as Kiyoko's blood soaked the floor.
Outside, the birds began to stir.
Six ANBU guards stood by the entryway to the ward, masked faces impassive as Fugaku came to a stop.
"Identification," the one in the tiger mask spoke, cloaked in Captain's white. He held a black scroll in hand and opened it up silently.
Fugaku bit his thumb and pressed his bloody thumbprint against the thin black rice paper, the mark flaring a sudden bright blue before subsiding. The ANBU operative nodded, and stepped aside, the doors swinging open to let Fugaku, and only Fugaku through. The doors swung shut behind him, instantly cutting off all sound, though he knew Mikoto was going through the same process behind him.
Ahead of him lay another set of double doors without any handles or hinges. Fugaku blinked once, letting the Sharingan bleed through his eyes, and caught sight of the massively complex seal workings pulsating with chakra on the walls of the small vestibule. They flared three times in quick succession and Fugaku felt something quite cold sink deep in his chakra coils, the sensation fading away as quickly as it appeared.
The doors ahead of him swung silently inward as if on some unseen signal and Fugaku stepped into the S Class Ward of Konoha General.
A medic stood waiting by the hallway, scribbling something onto a clipboard in hand. Her head jerked up as Fugaku approached, dark circles even more prominent underneath the harsh fluorescent lighting.
"Uchiha Fugaku-dono," she said archly, back straightening a little as she flicked her cold white eyes at him.
"Hyuuga-sensei," Fugaku said, his voice not quite chilly.
Behind him the doors swung open again, revealing Mikoto's pale face as she stepped behind him. Her eyes widened, very slightly, as she caught sight of the Hyuuga medic, before she bowed her head politely.
"Sensei," she murmured.
"Uchiha-dono," Hyuuga-sensei returned, inclining her head a fraction of a degree in return. "Welcome. I trust you've both passed through the cleansing safely?"
"The seals?" Fugaku asked.
Hyuuga-sensei nodded. "They're designed to strip you of any external chakra devices like scrolls or bombs and kill electrical devices such as radios or even watches," she explained and started down the long, endless hallway, doors utterly unmarked and unremarkable, and without a single sign hanging in place. Corridors branched off the main hallway at irregular intervals, each looking exactly the same as the other. Hyuuga-sensei strode forward with confidence, though Fugaku carefully kept track of each turn she took, knowing that Mikoto did the same at his side.
"Security precautions," she said drily, "as I'm sure you'll understand."
Fugaku grunted, thinking of Danzou's sudden disappearance. The bastard was out there somewhere and no doubt hungry for vengeance.
She came to an abrupt stop in front of a blank door, and Fugaku nearly ran into her back, swearing silently.
"This one," Hyuuga-sensei said. "He's in here."
Hyuuga-sensei knocked once, sharply, then pressed her palm flat against the surface of the door. It rippled briefly, taking on the shape of her hand print, before it swung open silently, revealing one very small boy sleeping in one very large hospital bed.
Fugaku suddenly found himself unable to speak.
Mikoto gasped, softly, as she slipped around Fugaku's unmoving body, darting into the room. Itachi, sitting next to the bed in a folding chair, rose to his feet slowly, uncharacteristically blinking back a long yawn.
"Mother, Father," he bowed, stiffly, and Fugaku suddenly wondered if Itachi had slept at all since the Hokage's hawk had come for him last night. The thought gave his strength back to him as he forced himself into the room, heading for his eldest son.
"Father," Itachi said, eyes widening. "Are you-"
Fugaku caught Itachi around the shoulders in a tight hug, resting his chin on the top of Itachi's head. How long before he would no longer be able to do this? Fugaku squeezed even tighter.
"You did well, my son," he said, and he felt Itachi stiffen in his arms.
"I," Itachi choked out, his breath hot against the silk of Fugaku's stiff kimono top. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he said over and over again in a tight, miserable voice. "It wasn't enough, I couldn't save him."
Fugaku drew back sharply, looking down at Itachi's weary, heart-sick face. "Don't demean his choice," he said, quiet.
"But-"
"Shisui gave his life to save Sasuke's," and Fugaku couldn't help the weakness in his voice as he spoke Sasuke's name. "He chose to do so and I grieve for it every moment of the day. But I respect it. No one forced his hand. He sacrificed himself of his own free will, for Sasuke. And for you."
Itachi's eyes flickered again, black spinning into red, and for a startling moment Fugaku caught sight of what appeared to be pinwheels, before his eyes settled back. "And that too doesn't mean you didn't do enough. The two of you gave so much-" Fugaku's damned voice choked up again and Fugaku couldn't but look away, only for his gaze to fall upon Sasuke's peacefully sleeping face.
Damn. Damn it all to hell.
Fugaku stiffened as he felt Itachi's arms slowly wrap around Fugaku's waist as he hugged back, head pressed against Fugaku's chest as if he were a little boy once more. Fugaku slowly relaxed and returned the hug, letting his hand rest on the back of Itachi's neck.
Mikoto looked up at him with wet eyes, one hand clenched tight around Sasuke's limp wrist.
"We've put him in an induced healing coma," Hyuuga-sensei spoke up from behind him and if Fugaku were a lesser man, he would have flinched. Instead, he turned his head to the side and gave the medic a cool look.
"Explain."
"To put it simply, he's been through some extreme stress these past few weeks. His body needs to heal and so does his mind. Once we finish evaluating and treating his physical state, we'll begin exploring his mental state with Yamanaka-sensei." Hyuuga-sensei tilted her head, arms crossed over her chest.
There was a long pause and then: "Will he be alright?" Mikoto asked quietly, her eyes never leaving Sasuke's face.
Hyuuga-sensei hesitated and blinked, her white eyes unreadable. "I can't promise anything," she said carefully. "But."
"But?" Mikoto prompted again, her voice a touch stronger.
"He's an Uchiha," Hyuuga-sensei smiled thinly. "I highly suspect he'll pull through well enough."
Fugaku reached out with a trembling hand, the other still encircling Itachi, and brushed a curl of Sasuke's hair back, the bandage encircling his head stark against the pallor of his skin. Sasuke's eyes fluttered with the movement, his chest rising and falling with every breath.
Alive.
Fugaku let the Sharingan bleed through his eyes and tracked Sasuke's breathing, the subdued flicker of his underdeveloped chakra signature, in the present and the almost-future.
Alive, alive, alive in every single moment.
There was a quick knock at the door, and the same ripple as before, before the door swung open, revealing another medic with long yellow hair wrapped up in a bun. He was flanked by an ANBU operative, the same one in the Tiger mask guarding the entrance to the ward.
"Yamanaka-sensei," Hyuuga-sensei said sharply.
Yamanaka looked as apologetic as a Yamanaka could look, which meant it was deeply insincere. "Sorry, Hitoka-san, but he insisted."
Tiger mask inclined his head. "My apologies," he said, his voice slightly muffled behind the mask, tone entirely bland. "But the Hokage insists."
Fugaku was about to open his mouth and let the ANBU operative know where exactly the Hokage could stuff his message, but Tiger mask continued.
"A Tribunal has been called. The Hokage requests and requires the full presence of the Council."
Fugaku shut his mouth with a sharp click. Itachi pulled away from Fugaku and towards the ANBU operative, his chakra signature rippling with intent.
"On what matter?" Itachi asked urgently, his body pulling in tight, as if he were recoiling from a blow.
"On the matter of high treason, murder, and the endangerment of Konoha citizens committed by Shimura Danzou, he will be judged in absentia."
There was a room buried deep underneath the Mountain where the walls were made entirely of living wood, chakra pulsating in every plank, fiber, and cell. The Shodai had built the room himself with his own hands, coaxing dust to life, filling the emptiness with an impossible, improbably living thing, where no sunlight would ever enter.
The Sandaime settled at the head of the long table that now filled the expanse of the room that the Shodai built for Uzumaki Mito when the time came to strengthen the seal containing the Kyuubi. The walls were imbued with strength, clarity, and most importantly, secrecy.
One by one, the room slowly filled as ANBU operatives guided each member of the Council into the room, until every seat at the table was filled but two: Danzou's and Hatake's.
"I appreciate your attendance this evening," the Sandaime began gravely, folding his hands together on his lap. "As many of you may recall, this is the first Tribunal called since the matter of Orochimaru ten years ago."
Clan Heads and Councilmembers shifted in their seats, the uncomfortable tension in the room ratcheting up even more.
"We are here today to pass judgement on the matter of Shimura Danzou's treason against the Village Hidden in the Leaves, as well his murder and endangerment of protected Konoha citizens, in absentia. If there any objections, state them now."
The room was deathly silent. Not a single member stirred.
"Very well. We will begin with the full list of charges." The Sandaime gestured over to Homura, who gave him a deeply unhappy look, before clearing his throat and reading aloud from the scroll that appeared before him.
The Sandaime leaned back in his seat, considering the immovable faces set before him, watching them watch him. Shikaku's eyebrow went up, slightly, and the Sandaime very carefully did not respond at all.
Homura concluded with a cough and a long drink of water provided by a silently helpful ANBU guard standing behind his chair. There was one positioned behind every chair, in a ready position.
"Objections?"
There were none.
"Very well," the Sandaime nodded. "Then we will move forward to the evidence." He made a subtle gesture and the ANBU guard standing behind his own chair, moved forward with a bundle of scrolls she placed on the table.
"The first exhibit."
The Sandaime presented the very first piece of evidence he'd acquired, years and years and years ago, not long after that last Tribunal in this room.
"These are reports detailing the inventory of Orochimaru's hidden laboratory in the sewers," the Sandaime said quietly, tapping the first scroll. Duplicates appeared in front of every seat, each marked with a glowing chakra number, certifying it as a legitimate copy. "Evidence that Danzou deliberately falsified the reports and hid a large amount of illegal laboratory equipment and the results of Orochimaru's experiments for his own purposes." There was a rustle of paper as Clan Heads and Councilmembers unseals the scrolls with bloody thumbprints.
And so it went on.
Falsified death certificates from orphanages in order to recruit children to his cause. Funds diverted from the Orphans and Widows Trust in order buy tools and equipment. The transformation of Orochimaru's old laboratory, hidden in the sewers, deep amongst the roots of the old trees that anchored Konoha, into what appeared to be Danzou's base of operations. ROOT HQ.
The Sandaime hand paused over one scroll, remembering Shisui's final promise. I'll end this, one way or another. And so he had, the Sandaime thought sadly.
"This report is compiled by intelligence gathered by a special operative who infiltrated ROOT," the Sandaime began. Shisui had gathered it and Kurenai had pieced it all together into a coherent report, detailing ROOT's movements, its base of operations, its size, safe houses, educational facilities training the young ROOT recruits, and weapons caches located all over the Village and beyond.
"Which leads us to this final, precipitating event."
The Sandaime pulled the last scroll towards himself. He unsealed it open and swiped his bloody thumb again on the flat rice paper. There was a puff of displaced astral smoke as a small plain white plastic box with an ordinary containment seal appeared on the table. It was strangely cold. The Sandaime noticed Fugaku closed his eyes and breathe in deeply, unsteadily.
It opened with a touch of his finger. Plumes of condensation arose in the air as the box unveiled a small, shriveled piece of flesh. A small child's ear, still wet with clotted blood, perfectly preserved since it had been placed there a few weeks prior.
"Uchiha Sasuke disappeared three week and four days ago; this parcel was delivered to Uchiha Fugaku's house the night of. It is confirmed to be Sasuke's ear, thanks to independent genetic testing performed by an impartial third party," the Sandaime said quietly. "Uchiha Sasuke was rescued last night, along with thirty five other individuals, all under the age of ten, in ROOT's care. Shimura Danzou was found on site, intending on reeducating the children with the use of Yamanaka techniques."
Down the far end of the table, Inoichi looked sick, his expression mirrored in varying degrees by each member of the room, save for Fugaku's dull face, his eyes flat and unseeing in what the Sandaime knew was actually blinding rage.
"Operatives engaged with Shimura Danzou, but he quickly disappeared, killing one and wounding several others. As of ten minutes ago, he is still considered missing. Since his disappearance, you may have noticed that I have placed the Village on high alert. The Walls are at double strength and all passage in and out of the Village is denied, save for emergencies.
"I believe that Danzou is our greatest threat to stability and peace since the release of the Kyuubi nearly seven years ago." The Sandaime paused, closely observing each member of the room. He drew in a measured breath and let it out.
"Then I believe we are at a conclusion. If there are no objections, then we shall move to the final deliberation-"
There was an ear-splitting scream as the ceiling of the room literally tore open, wood and chakra and living plants shredding apart amid plumes of chakra lightning and smoke. Twenty five ANBU operatives sprang into action, two immediately moving in to cover the Hokage, while twenty three swords unsheathed like quicksilver.
When the dust storm cleared, Hatake Kakashi stood in the middle of the table, reeking of dust and ozone. Sparks of lightning still danced around his fists as he casually ignored the twenty three swords pointed at his throat.
"Sorry, I'm late," he said. "But as the Clan Head of the Hatake, I would like to register my objection and submit one last piece of evidence, if I may, Sandaime-sama."
The Sandaime gently pushed aside the ANBU guards hovering protectively over him. "You may, Hatake-dono."
Kakashi pulled out a scroll from his flak vest, clothed in what looked like fresh, though borrowed jounin blues. They were a touch short at the wrist, revealing a strip of pale white skin.
He threw the scroll down onto the table, whip-like, and it unrolled the entire length of the table, falling to a stop in front of the Sandaime.
"Release," Kakashi said, coldly. One last puff of smoke erupted in the air and once it cleared, the Sandaime found himself peering down at what looked like Gari of Iwa's head, permanently removed from his body.
"I would like to add to the list of charges. Shimura Danzou illegally misappropriated ANBU resources for his own gains, resulting in the violation of several inter-Village peace treaties, as well as severe harm and death to loyal Konoha shinobi," Kakashi reeled off, looking terribly bored, his hands shoved in his pockets. "As evidenced by Gari's head which he personally ordered me me to acquire and which can be independently confirmed by his servant, Yakushi Kabuto, held in the Sannin Jiraiya's custody.
"Now," Kakashi snarled, and the room suddenly dropped a bone chilling fifteen degrees,"tell me where he is so I can fucking kill him."
A/N: THE END IS NIGH! \o/