A Perception of Reality

by knightchaser

There is a belief that states for every action taken, the alternative action is played out in another dimension. In one reality Itachi succeeded in killing his clan, in another, he failed. This is the story of what happened when he failed.

21. Chapter 21 Secrets in the Mist

Last week Hinata was upset because her parents' murderers haven't been caught yet.

Thanks for all the reviews and favs – you're all great!

Disclaimer: Kishimoto owns Naruto

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Chapter 21 – Secrets in the Mist

"I remember you." Itachi turned to look at the elderly man who was leaning shakily on two canes. He was dressed in a pair of old tan pants, a black sleeveless shirt, sandals and he wore a baseball cap to shade his eyes from the warm afternoon sun.

"I hear your clans been making trouble out there in Konoha. Good going kid! Shook up those villagers something good, it did." The old man laughed, showing far fewer teeth than he had displayed back when Itachi had first met him when he was eight. "That's a cute girl you got hanging off your arm. You two eloping?"

"Yeah. How'd you guess?" Sheeta teased as she gave him a big grin.

"Ha! So when's the baby due?"

"Few days. It's twins. Maybe we'll see you on the way back and you can see 'em."

"Sheeta…" Itachi tried to stop her but she brushed him off.

She patted her flat stomach and grinned even bigger, "It's going to be boys."

"Good going, boy! Knew you had it in ya! Keep those babies coming and you'll repopulate the clan in no time! You know the captain of this ship is authorized to perform marriages."

"Huh? No!" Itachi said in an uncharacteristically high pitched voice.

"Typical." A woman dressed in blue shorts, a white tank-top and covered in triangle-shaped tattoos walked up and folded her arms across her chest with a petulant stare. "The moment a woman starts talking marriage the man runs off."

Itachi closed his eyes and sighed with amusement. "Sheeta, this is Shouhei Senju. I met him years ago during my last mission to Mist. Shouhei, this is my friend Sheeta. Well, we're engaged. Betrothed really."

"I'm honored to meet you Shouhei." Sheeta bowed politely and the Senju bowed his head in acknowledgement, being too weak to lower his body in a formal bow.

"Sheeta my dear, I hope you enjoy the cruise. This lovely woman is the captain… or the first mate. I'm not sure. I just hang out here for the ride. Not going to die on land, that's for sure!" He laughed again.

The woman gave the old man a mischievous grin, "You can call me Nel. I don't know if I'm the captain or not either. I just give the orders and strangle anyone who doesn't follow them. No ones tossed me overboard yet so, who knows?"

Sheeta laughed, "Well this sounds like it will be a good trip then."

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"I'm one-hundred-and-three years old! Beat that!" It was a couple hours after dinner and Shouhei was bragging about his age. Again.

"Wow." Sheeta was awed, never having met anyone that old before.

"So you gotta get old as me too, Sheeta."

"I'll try, but it's pretty rare so…" She shrugged and leaned back against the deck wall, stretching her legs out in front of her.

"What about you Itachi? Still healthy?" The man seemed to be fishing for something and Itachi frowned.

"So you know about it."

"It's not hard to guess. I'm also very gifted with medical ninjutsu. I could see a slight, very slight, difference in the way you breathe that no one else would even notice." Shouhei sounded apologetic as his suspicions were confirmed. "If you can find Tsunade – I'm sure you know who she is – she might be able to treat you. I'd do it… but my chakra has dropped to such a low level that it's barely enough to treat myself. Besides, the only treatment I know has to be administered over several years and I may not be alive that long."

"Hn." Itachi looked up at the dark, starlit sky. Away from land there were no city lights to block the evening view and he was suddenly struck with how much the stars looked like diamonds on a black velvet cloth. As if a jeweler had spread his wares across the sky, waiting for the lowly humans to become powerful enough to pluck them off his table.

Sheeta closed her eyes and drew her legs up to chest, her good mood was gone. Leaning sideways, she rested her head lightly on Itachi's shoulder and tried to convince herself that no matter what the future brought, at least she had her best friend with her right now. It didn't completely work though, and she had to brush a stray tear away from her left eye as Itachi wrapped an arm around her.

"It's okay." Itachi gave a small smile, "I'm a ninja after all. Something else could get me before I get sick.

"So how's that cousin of yours? Shisui?"

"Dead. He… killed himself a couple…no… three years ago." Itachi declared in a flat voice.

Shouhei sighed as he mourned in his thoughts, 'So I was right. First Yota, then Shisui, and next Itachi. Why am I cursed with such a long life? All I do is watch the people around me die. And this little girl… what am I to make of her?'

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"I know you told me what to expect, Itachi, but this is…" Sheeta and Itachi walked through the port city carefully picking their way through garbage, beggers, and one corpse, half rotted and forgotten on the side of the road. The people around it seemed oblivious to the stench and evidence of bones a couple blocks further down the street was nothing more than a chilling reminder of what the people around them would, soon enough, become.

Water country was in a terrible state. The Daimyou had been waging a war with his own people for so long that the entire island was suffering. When Itachi had come here five years ago on a mission he had suffered a severe trauma when his team had stumbled upon a massacred village. Corpses had littered the valley for as far as the eye could see. Kisame, who had still been a Mist shinobi at the time and had been assigned to assist in the mission, had informed them that the Daimyou had set up three rebel factions and the Mist village to attack each other, then swooped in with his own troops. The resulting chaos had resulted in tens of thousands of deaths.

The countryside was quieter, but the dilapidated state of occasional house or village followed them on their journey. Itachi began to wonder if the situation had gotten worse. Sifting though his memories he found it difficult to compare "then" with "now". The first part of his trip was fairly pleasant. Accompanied by his team and Shisui's team the six children and two senseis had buffered any unpleasantness. It wasn't until after they had seen the valley full of corpses that things had gone wrong. When they finally left, it was from a different port.

Two days later they found themselves standing on a cliff overlooking the village hidden in the Mist. It was, predictably, shrouded in a fog that showed only the faintest outlines of building and trees.

Sheeta couldn't help the sigh of relief that escaped her lips at the thought that their journey was finished. "This isn't a trip I would like to make very often."

"No kidding." Itachi agreed, but for different reasons. While the poor state of the country was troubling, the fact that he was now going to be a guest in Madara's home for two weeks was even more distressing. The elder Uchiha was no doubt up to something and instead of enjoying a relaxing visit with Aya, he would have to be on guard for whatever was about to happen.

"I heard some of the other's back home call this the 'Blood Mist' Village. Why is that?" Sheeta looked curiously at Itachi.

"The Academy here… as their final exam the students were pitted against each one in one-on-one death matches. It stopped when a boy who wasn't even enrolled showed up and killed all the students."

"Wow. That's sick. It sounds like that Mangekyou Sharingan stuff. But if a non-Uchiha did that, what would they get for it?"

"Who knows?" Itachi replied in a tired voice. "It's thought that it hardens you and makes you a more brutal killer, without mercy. But if that's true why did they change the exam after Zabuza killed all the students that one time? Albeit, he did become an elite ninja in the village after that, but all the same… it must have worn on the minds of those who could look into their pasts and see the faces of the friends they killed."

"Well, some people are just weaker than other, that's all." Itachi and Sheeta turned around quickly, alarmed that someone had snuck up on them, undetected. A teenage boy, about their own age, was staring at them from ten feet away with a wide grin on his face. He wore a pair of blue shorts with a black tank-top and a mist headband. "I'm Mitokado Uchiha and I'm supposed to escort you to the Mitzukage mansion."

"Oh… thanks. I'm Itachi Uchiha and this is Sheeta Uchiha." Itachi bowed politely, followed by Sheeta.

"Come with me then! Aya is really excited to see you guys. She's been fussing all week with your rooms and stuff."

"So do you work for the Mizukage?" Sheeta asked conversationally.

"Yep. Only certain people are chosen - they have to be really powerful to meet his standards. I've been working for him since I was ten. Four years now." Mitokado seemed to be in a talkative mood and was very friendly. "By the way, don't let the villagers know you're an Uchiha. They aren't supposed to know we exist. If you get in a fight, don't use your Sharingan because if you do you have to kill anyone who saw it."

"That's harsh." Itachi commented unhappily.

"True, but the Daimyou of Water country hates kekkai Genkai's and has killed tens of thousands of people with them so the Uchiha aren't exactly the only ones hiding out here. You'll probably recognize some other clans as well, but they hide their abilities too. So if you know something pretend ignorance."

"Hmmm. Okay." Itachi knew some of that already, but the question as to why the Uchiha in Mist needed to remain secret from the Uchiha in Konoha was still unanswered. He had suspicions of course, namely that Madara was trying to keep himself hidden from the world and the existence of an eastern branch of the clan would probably give that away. However, it was known that over the years several Uchiha had "dropped out of sight". It wasn't taken to be a serious problem until Fugaku discovered Ouya Uchiha, Sheeta's estranged father, had been selling Konoha secrets to Stone. At that point he had requested that all Uchiha's live in Fire country so they could be accounted for. It was also at that point that he began to suspect the existence of Uchiha's in Mist village.

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The Mizukage mansion was huge. It wasn't tall, but it was spread out in a series of winding buildings set within a well-tended garden. A huge pond (or perhaps a small lake) could be glimpsed snaking around the end of the main building and several different types of maple trees grew around the area.

Mitokado led the pair into the building, greeting an elderly housekeeper polishing an antique cabinet with a wave as they walked past her. As they made their way through the snaking hallways of the mansion Sheeta moved closer to Itachi and laced her fingers into his. He looked at her curiously, she appeared to be nervous. For some reason he found that cute.

"They are in the living room. Wait here while I introduce you…" Mitokado was interrupted as Sheeta attempted to push past him, "Come on! Just stand still for a couple minutes! I hardly ever get to do this, I want to do it right."

Itachi gave a short laugh at the teen's enthusiasm as he put a hand on his girlfriend's shoulder to hold her back. "We'll wait. After all, the Mizukage is in there as well and we wouldn't want to get Mitokado in trouble."

Mitokado gave him a friendly smile and slid the door back, "Lord Mizukage, Lady Aya, your guests have arrived. May I show them in?"

"Yes, thank-you Mitokado." Madara's strong voice came through the open doorway causing Itachi to cringe subconsciously. He glanced at Sheeta who was now looking at him questioningly. Smiling he shook his head, silently telling her that nothing was wrong.

"You may enter now, honored guests." Mitokado bowed formally then stepped out of the way of the door as Sheeta burst through, practically running into the room. Itachi held back a little, still smiling.

"That's quite a job you got." He smirked.

"Yeah, it get's better every day. Now if you'll excuse me I have to go count the mice in the pantry so the cats know how much work they have to do." The teen laughed as he turned around and went back the direction they had come.

Itachi found himself wondering if that was a joke or if he was speaking figuratively. He blinked a couple times as he realized he was beginning to sound paranoid, but his instincts told him to watch out and if there was one thing a shinobi learned early, it was to listen to what your instincts told you.

Walking into the large living room he was a little bit surprised to see Madara reclining lazily on a chaise lounge near the open doors to the garden, drinking what looked like lemonade. It was a little too normal and the teen was struck with the thought of what exactly he had expected the leader of the worlds most powerful criminal organization to be doing on his off-time. Perhaps he hadn't expected him to have off-time, but to be poring over maps and invasion plans in a dark room with a single light bulb for illumination.

Shaking his head to dispel the image Itachi turned his attention back to Sheeta who was talking a mile-a-minute with her sister. Aya seemed to be talking just as fast, but stopped in mid-word when she saw Itachi.

"I'm so glad you came!" Aya threw herself at her younger cousin, hugging him tight. The soon-to-be seventeen-year-old was still a head taller than him and after a minute he pushed against her lightly in self defense.

"Don't squish me!" He laughed, "I'm glad to see you too."

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"So you're the clan leader here?" Itachi looked the man over and was struck with how much he resembled Madara. He seemed to be in his late-twenties or early-thirties with straight black hair, black eyes, and was the same height as the elder Uchiha.

"Yes. I am Sora. I am also Madara's uncle." He put his hands together and initiated a jutsu that changed his appearance to that of an old man. "I appear like this to the villagers," He turned back in a young man, "and like this to the clan."

"Why?"

Sora shrugged, "I don't know. Why not? It's fun."

"I… okay…" It had been two days since their arrival in Mist and Madara was making sure Itachi met as many people as possible. If it wasn't for his good memory the teen was sure he would have been overwhelmed by now. Most of the introductions consisted of clan members, but he also attended a few meetings with the Mist government officials and the Jounin squad leadership requested an audience as well, wanting to meet the genius son of the Hokage.

Itachi found the meetings to be a curiosity. Madara never left the house without covering his face. He wore a square hat that had a black cloth hanging from all four sides. When he held meetings, he sat behind a bamboo blind that showed nothing more than an outlined shadow of his body. Itachi, as an honored guest, would sit in front of the screen to the right of Madara, in plain view. Everyone sat on cushions on the floor. The whole setup was very traditional and while his parent's house had the exact same setup in its meeting room, to Itachi's knowledge Fugaku had never lowered the screen. He had seen his mother cleaning it on several occasions, but that was the only time it was let down.

"How is it you are still alive?" Itachi got right to the point.

Sora snorted in amusement, "When I was eleven and Madara was five I was badly injured. While I was healing I learned that my father – the man who had tried to kill me – had decided to take Madara under his wing and train him. I was afraid for his life and swore to become a medic so I could heal whatever wounds father inflicted on him."

"What?" Itachi was a little taken aback that a father would kill his son, even though he knew things like that happened. After all, his friend Yota Hyuuga, who had been on his Genin team, had also been attacked by his father. The difference was that Yota had ended up killing him in self-defense. The man had been an alcoholic and drug addict and was not sober when he attacked. There was little Yota could have done to change the events of that day.

"Got time for some reminiscences?" Sora led Itachi out into the garden, stopping by the large pond to sit on a stone bench. The ever-present fog swirled around a tall willow tree that had draped itself over the calm water, as if sending its long branches into the water to angle for fish. "Madara doesn't like me to talk about his past, but this is… it's not harmful in anyway to him. In fact, it was a turning point in our lives that shaped our futures."

"Hmm. Okay. I have a couple hours, I would like to hear it." Of course, Itachi was curious about what a five-year-old Madara was like.

"This was back before Konoha was even thought of. The Uchiha still lived in a small village at the base of the Hideout – you know what that is of course - and, well, I guess I should start with a little background. Madara's parents weren't married when he was born. This probably wouldn't have been a big issue, but because Shou, his father, was heir to the clan, he was unable to claim the boy as his. He couldn't marry his girlfriend because he was already betrothed to another woman and had to marry her first. He did that a few months later, and Izuna, Madara's younger brother was born a couple years later. He then married Madara's mother so he had two wives. Believe it or not the two women were good friends and even though Madara was always treated well by most of the family, he was kept with the servants, for the most part.

"Anyway, his grandfather hated him – saw him as a disgrace. Fortunately it was his great-grandfather, a man name Ryuunosuke, who lead the clan back then and called the shots. Ryuunosuke loved Madara and doted on him and Izuna as much as was possible for a man in his position.

"So… to get to the story…"

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The branches of a hundred cherry trees clicked against each other as the cold January wind blew through the large field. The normally green and well-maintained grass was matted and wet, having been trampled by a recent snowfall and the drenching rains that had followed it. The few raindrops still resting on the branches and grass glistened like crystals as the sun moved in and out of the clouds.

"It smells good up here, doesn't it?" Sora breathed deeply. "The wood fires in the village make my nose hurt. Mother says it's an allergy or something."

"Does it hurt that bad?" Madara asked curiously. The two boys walked along the empty gravel path to the far end of the practice field, where a shuriken practice area had been built. There were two practice areas; one was a straight target, and the other was an obstacle course with hidden targets. Because it was usually used by children it was normally empty during the day when school was in session. However, Sora was skipping classes that day because a photographer had come by earlier to take photos of the family.

"Yeah. It makes my eyes water. But… I'm sure I'll live!" Sora laughed.

"Oh. I like the smell of wood burning." Madara watched as his uncle emptied his pack of about twenty shurikens. Taking ten each the two boys began throwing them at the round targets at the end of the practice area.

"How come Izuna couldn't come?" Madara finally asked. The younger boy was basically his only playmate since Sora was in school all day and trained in the evenings.

"Haven't a clue. It isn't raining so his mother wouldn't have complained. What was strange was that Lord Ryuunosuke was the one who told us to leave him behind. He hardly ever interferes with Shou's kids." Sora smirked, "Except for when my dad starts picking on you, of course. Then he's quick to put him back in his place, huh?"

Madara grinned, showing all his teeth, "Yeah! I like great-grandfather!"

The boys threw shurikens at the targets for another thirty minutes, when they heard a branch break behind them. Turning around they both gulped nervously when they saw who it was.

"So. My good-for-nothing son and bastard grandson are together in the same place. This makes things a lot easier, doesn't it?" Masaru approached the boys and pulled his sword. He was dressed in a pair of black pants and a simple black yukata. His long, thick hair was loose and blew freely in the wind. Dark chakra emanated from him in waves, causing the two boys to back up several paces. The man's Sharingan blazed red as he slowly advanced on the pair. "It ends today, boys. And I have permission to kill you so running home isn't going to help."

"Shou would never harm Madara! He's his favorite! Everyone knows that!" Sora stepped in front of his nephew and held a shuriken in front of him. His heart was beating fast and his hands were shaking.

"Look at you, Sora, shaking like a leaf. How pathetic you turned out. To think you could possibly be related to Shou, a man who was winning battles by the time he was eleven. You haven't even graduated from school yet. You are worthless to me!" He grinned, "And it was Lord Ryuunosuke who gave permission to kill you two. Why do you think he spent so much money on the bastard when he turned five? It was to ease his own conscience."

"Lies!" Sora screamed, "Lies! I don't believe you!"

"What is he talking about, uncle Sora?" Madara asked nervously. He was clinging to the back of the older boy's jacket and peaking out at his grandfather. He knew he was different from his brother, treated different, but most of his family tried to cover it up or at least do things to compensate for it. And for the most part, Madara rarely felt excluded. However, he never felt truly included either. Even though he was five he still knew that his little brother was given preferential treatment and when visitors from other clans came to visit it was Izuna who was introduced to them, not Madara. The strangers would look at the older boy with a knowing glance and return their attention to either Izuna or Shou. And often Madara was sent to eat in the kitchen with the servants instead of the family. However, the biggest difference was with titles. He had to address Izuna as "Lord Izuna", but no one ever called him "Lord".

"He's talking nonsense Madara, don't listen!" Sora yelled.

"Time to die, boys!" Masaru jumped forward and kicked his son roughly in the chest. The boy flew across the ground and landed flat against one of the targets. Madara, who had been clinging to his uncle's shirt let go as soon as he was kicked and ended up tumbling in the wet grass next to the target. He quickly jumped to his feet and grabbed two kunai off the ground.

Sora rapidly extricated himself from the target and grabbed some kunai as well. He wondered if his father was truly there to kill them or if this was just some perverted training session he had thought up because he was mad. Masaru had a horrid temper and over the years, Sora and Madara had both been on the wrong end of the man's wrath. The older boy rubbed his shoulder. It still hurt from the last "training" session he had with his father. It had been dislocated, but instead of calling a healer, the man had just popped it back into place himself. To make matters worse, it had been so painful he had cried. That, Sora had quickly learned, had been a huge mistake and he had sworn never to show tears in front of his father again. However, he doubted he would be able to keep his word. Masaru had a way of bringing out the worst in him.

"Madara, run home." Sora said sternly.

"No! I stand beside you in battle and only death will divide us!" Madara quoted a line from one of his favorite stories, a tale of two brothers who fought to avenge the death of their friend.

"Damn it Madara! This isn't a bedtime story! This is real!" Sora ducked as Masaru lunged forward again, nicking him in the arm with his sword.

"Too slow!" Masaru yelled. He jumped back, then used a transportation jutsu to appear behind Sora and kicked him in the rear. Sora went flying across the field again and landed against a tree. The man then quickly turned on Madara and kicked him in the stomach, sending him into a mound of dirt that bordered the practice field.

Masaru ran to where Sora was picking himself up and plunged his sword into the boy's right shoulder, pinning him to the trunk. Sora screamed in agony as he gripped the sword and tried to pull it out. The blade cut his hands and blood dripped freely onto the ground.

"I will enjoy watching you die, son. You are an embarrassment. The truth is, you aren't even really my son. Your bitch of a mother had an affair and became pregnant. Lord Ryuunosuke made me keep you and pretend you were mine. What a joke! After I kill you and that bastard over there I will kill Shou and Ryuunosuke and take my rightful place as clan chief. I will then raise Izuna as my heir. That'll teach them to exclude me from the line of succession!"

"You're a coward!" Sora yelled through his tears. "Madara! Run away! Hide!"

"Ahhh!" Masaru yelled in pain and grabbed his back. A kunai was sticking out of the right side, about halfway down. "You little shit! How dare you sneak up on me?"

Madara jumped back and glared at his grandfather. He was panting in fear. Even though he was growing up in a ninja clan, he had never seen anyone injured before. And the fact that it was Sora writhing and moaning in agony was ten times worse. "Leave my uncle alone!" The boy practically screamed the words as he raised his remaining kunai in the air and pointed it at Masaru.

"Ha! You think you are a match for me! I'll enjoy watching you die as well!" He jumped forward again and kicked Madara back across the field and into another tree. The boy's head hit the trunk of the tree and everything seemed to shift a little to the right. Blue dots and pinpricks of light filled his vision as he tried to stand up, only to fall back down again as a wave of dizziness passed over him. His eyes started burning, but he forced them open anyway and focused on the tree Sora was impaled against.

Masaru approached his son and grabbed his chin, lifting it up. He then used his other hand to open the boy's eyelids. "Humph. So, you really aren't capable of Sharingan then. I guess your real father wasn't from the clan after all. That just makes this all the more disgusting. Mixing Uchiha blood with that of another clan is revolting." He pulled out another kunai and plunged it into the boy's stomach.

Sora cried out in pain and tried to grasp the kunai but the older man grabbed his wrists and lifted them above his head. He then pulled out another kunai and ran it through the boy's hands, affixing them permanently to the tree. "Die slowly, Sora. I want to enjoy this. I want your mother to see what I did to her son. This will be her punishment for cheating on me."

Standing back, Masaru crossed his arms across his chest and smiled as he watched the boy crying out in pain. It was music to his ears, something he had wanted to hear for a very, very long time. When he was done with Sora, he would have more fun with Madara. Glancing over to the tree he had thrown the young boy at, he was suddenly plunged to the ground when a sharp pain ripped through the back of both shins.

Madara lunged forward, landing on top of his grandfather, both kunai-laden hands plunged quickly into the man's chest. Pulling them out, he stabbed again and again and didn't stop until he felt himself thrown up into the air. Landing hard on the ground, he quickly stood up and glared at his grandfather.

"You bastard! What gives you the right to strike me?" Masaru tried to stand, but realized his tendons had been severed. Sitting up he looked down at his chest, eight stab wounds were bleeding profusely, and the pain was overwhelming. Using chakra he pressed his hands against his torso, but the damage was extensive. His liver, kidneys and stomach had all been hit. Looking up he saw the five-year-old boy standing defiantly, six feet in front of him. He was covered in splattered blood and his knuckles were white from the tight grip he had on the kunai. And… his eyes were red! A brilliantly fully formed three-tomoe Sharingan gazed back at the middle-aged man from the face of a boy barely out of his toddler years.

Gazing back up at Sora he saw that the older boy was also looking at him with a Sharingan, although his had only one tomoe in each eye. Both boys had tears streaming down their faces and were panting heavily; Sora from his wounds, and Madara from what appeared to be a concussion if the big gash on the side of his head was any indication.

"It's… it's not possible… no one… no one has eyes like that… what… what kind.. of… demon… are you…" Masaru collapsed onto the ground. His eyes were still locked on Madara, an expression of disbelief on his face.

"Father!" Sora yelled, then started sobbing bitterly.

"Sora! Sora! What do we do? What happened?" Madara ran over to his uncle and put his hands on the boy's chest.

"Go home… get Shou…" Sora realized he was having trouble breathing and for some reason the pain was going away. "I'm… dying… I… can't believe it…"

"I'll get father! He'll fix you!" Madara took off at a run.

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Sora exhaled as if a huge weight was lifted off his chest. "All of us recovered, me, Madara and father. It turned out… father had set up the fight in order to activate my Sharingan. I believe your father did the same thing to you?"

Itachi nodded once. Even though it had been several years ago, the memory was still fresh in his mind. And the fear.

"While he wasn't fond of Madara at the time, he hadn't expected he would have to hurt the boy either. He thought he would just hide and stay out of the way. When he attacked instead of hiding he struck back. I always hated my father for that.

"As I was recovering I drifted deeper and deeper into my own world, not responding to anyone. The shock was overwhelming. It was then that I learned father would be taking Madara under his wing and training him personally. He was impressed with the child and his hatred had turned into something akin to pride. I was given over to the medical corp and trained as a healer. I swore then that I would heal the injuries my father would inflict upon my nephew. And I must say, he kept me busy."

"Poor kid." Itachi said under his breath.

"Poor father. Madara was a very aggressive student. He learned quickly and if there was one lesson my father imparted onto him it was that of brutality over mercy. The Uchiha were unmatched in battle. Madara's father, Shou, was already an accomplished ninja at eleven."

"What about Izuna?"

"Izuna… was a very friendly, outgoing boy. He also loved fighting as much as Madara did and when he turned five he joined father and Madara in their training." Sora gave a short laugh. "I then had three people to patch up in the evenings."

"Wow. I guess you got pretty good, pretty fast." Itachi smiled.

"Yeah, I am one of the best healers in ninja world." He stood up and walked away, head held high as if staring at the clouds hiding behind the fog.

Itachi sighed. The story was interesting. And it sounded like Madara probably had a pretty normal childhood, all things considered. But how he ended up as the mastermind behind Akatsuki was what he was really interested in. However, he doubted Sora would be so free with that tale.

'And perhaps' Itachi thought to himself, 'I don't really want to know." Turning your target into a human always made it more difficult to attack.

"Did I ever thank you for saving me when I was four?" Itachi muttered tonelessly.

"You did, but you didn't need to." Madara, who had been leaning on the other side of the willow tree listening spoke up in a calm voice. "None of that was your fault, kid."

"All the same. I am grateful. And for saving Sasuke. Without him…" Itachi knew his life would have been over a long time ago if he didn't have his little brother to hold on to. Sometimes, the boy had been the only beacon of light shining in the darkness that was the Uchiha clan.

Madara gave a short laugh, "Sometimes even I do good deeds, Itachi. Believe it not."

"I believe it." Itachi leaned back on the bench and stretched his feet out. "There is no one who is perfectly good or perfectly bad, we all tend to migrate to one side or the other, but our actions sometimes drift back and forth between one side and the other. That's just the way it is."

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Next week – More fun in Mist

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