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beta: Icescim

The Philosophy of Self

Chapter Nine

The blood stood out vividly against Shisui's pale face, rimming the hideously empty socket of his left eye. The skin there was torn, saturated with so much blood—dried and fresh—that it looked almost black. There were marks around the socket like nicks from a blade. Shisui had obviously fought the removal, vigorously.

Taking his right eye was considerably easier, and charring his face so it looked like the eyes had been destroyed by a Katon was easier still.

Shisui didn't struggle.

Shisui was dead.

The waters of the Naka River washed away most of the blood and soot and dirt that marred Shisui's corpse-pale skin.

It didn't wash the blood from Itachi's hands. Not quite.

The more time passed, the more nightmares plagued Itachi's sleep. And the more nightmares plagued his day, as well, but those were called 'memories', and he could not wake from them. As the days passed, he became paler, more drawn, as remembered grief and guilt and loss ate away at him.

Shisui—his cousin, his comrade, his closest friend and confidant—dead at his hands.

His mother, his father…

His whole clan.He'd killed them all. But not Sasuke.

He'd loved Sasuke. He had; he remembered. But… where was Sasuke now? And why did he wear his face? Itachi's face had been narrower, his features longer and thinner than Sasuke's. Sharply handsome, he recalled his mother saying once. The softer face he wore now was not his. It was Sasuke's.

It hurt, looking in the mirror now. Even if it was him behind the eyes now, they still stared accusingly at him. Stared with Sasuke's hatred for him. You killed them.

The wan look that had taken over him lately made him look more like himself, but it also had Sakura dredging up concern for him.

"Are you feeling well?" she asked, the day after the Naka River. "Are you having headaches? Nausea?"

He'd avoided her reaching hand, shook his head. "I merely am not sleeping well." When her concerned look did not fade, he added: "I've been starting to remember things in dreams. They wake me."

"But you're feeling alright?" she'd persisted. And, recalling Sasuke's crimes, for which he would answer, he guessed that they were worried the return of his memories might herald a return of whatever animosity Sasuke had held for Konoha.

But Sasuke was not supposed to hate Konoha…

Itachi shook his head and reassured her again.

Blood flew from Sasuke's mouth as Itachi's fist drove into his gut, a harsh deep upper-cut that lifted the younger Uchiha off his feet. Small hands gripped Itachi's wrist, as he wrapped his hand around Sasuke's throat and squeezed.

Itachi brought his mouth closer to Sasuke's ear, and said with dark amusement: "You still don't hate me enough, foolish little brother. You are still too weak."

"I'm sorry. I wasn't strong enough for your expectations—"

—Itachi woke with a harsh gasp, jerking upright in his bed. His chest burned and ached, and he clutched at it with a hand, tensed and clawed. It hurt to breathe, and at first his vision was blurred and doubled, but he blinked a few times and things refocused. He palmed his face.

It was one day until the trial, and his brain seemed to be making up for lost time by throwing memories at him fast and thick. They were mostly just little things; fragments, really. But each was like a stone added to the burden he already shouldered.

Had he really been such a horrible creature? He'd loved Sasuke, but his memories told him that he'd tortured his beloved brother. Why? Why would he have done so?

He'd feared before that he was insane because he'd been so sure, even in the face of all the evidence to the contrary, that he wasn't Sasuke. Now, he wondered if he wasn't insane because of how twisted his actions and emotions seemed to be. He'd loved Sasuke, but he'd tortured him. He'd loved his family, but he'd murdered them. He'd respected Kakashi, and yet he'd nearly killed him with his Mangekyo Sharingan.

He'd been confused before because he didn't remember anything. Now he was confused because of what he remembered. His situation hadn't improved at all.

The trial was held in early afternoon on the seventh day, in a grand chamber within the Hokage Tower. Itachi's four ANBU guards escorted him, visibly, from the diplomatic building to the Tower, where they handed him over to Sakura, Kakashi, and Naruto.

The Jinchuuriki was grinning as if he had no idea what was going to happen… or as if he were sure they'd let 'Sasuke' off lightly. Kakashi looked perfectly unreadable. And Sakura was trying valiantly to hide the worry in her eyes.

Itachi looked at them calmly, having fully accepted what the likely outcome of this trial would be. Naruto bounced forward, clapping him on the shoulder. "Don't worry, teme! Tsunade-baa-chan won't let anything bad happen!"

Because the blond's back was to his friends, he didn't see Sakura's wince. Itachi did, though, and it cemented the supposition he'd had that this wouldn't be so much a trial as simply a sentencing.

"Procedure is that you'll wait in the holding cell until the trial starts," Kakashi said, stepping forward. "We'll take you there now."

Itachi nodded his understanding, and Kakashi led the way. Naruto walked beside Itachi, talking about how they would go out for ramen again after the trial. He appeared utterly unconcerned, but Itachi thought that he could detect a bit of bravado in his tone, a hint that he was only acting like he was sure of what would happen.

Naruto wouldn't let himself consider anything other than getting his friend back.

Itachi felt guilty, because no matter what way this went, Naruto would never get his Teammate back. Not in him.

The holding cell was exactly as it sounded—a small, secure cell, just off of the chamber where the trial would take place. Two ANBU guards stood on either side of the door. Presumably, they were visible in order to provide an obvious deterrent to the cell's occupant, as well as to anyone who might approach the cell.

Kakashi nodded to the two, and they shifted to open the door. Itachi walked in without prompting, and watched passively as they locked him in. He felt the slight prickle of jutsu being charged; containment seals, he assumed.

"The guards will escort you into the chamber when the Council calls for you," Kakashi said.

"It'll be totally boring, but they won't let us keep you company," Naruto said in equal measures apology and annoyance. "Sorry, teme. But we'll see you after!"

Kakashi was watching Itachi with a level grey eye; it seemed almost like he wanted to tell him something else, but all he said was: "Come on Naruto, Sakura. We need to be in our own places."

He put a hand on Naruto's shoulder and steered him away, but Sakura hesitated, her eyes flickering all over Itachi's face. She edged a little closer, eyebrows drawing together and tilting worriedly. She murmured: "You still don't believe you're Sasuke, do you?"

It had the sound of a rhetorical question, and in any case, Itachi did not believe that she really wanted to hear the answer, so he just stayed quiet. She gave a very small, pained smile. "Good luck, Uchiha-san."

She left, and Itachi sat slowly down on the cell's bench. He eyed the backs of the ANBU guards, then glanced around at his surroundings. It was obvious that the secondary function of the cell was to intimidate its occupants and to get them off-balanced before they faced the council. Itachi, having been resigned to his fate and the probable outcome of this trial for the last couple of days, was unaffected. His only worry was that Team Seven would succeed in pleading leniency on his behalf.

With nothing else to do, Itachi closed his eyes and settled down to wait, expecting it to be some time before he was called. There was no clock, either in his cell or in the room, so he wasn't sure just how long it was, but he had been meditating for a while when a shinobi with a vaguely familiar face opened the door and nodded to the two ANBU. They opened his cell, and he stood up.

Coming into the chamber where the Council, Hokage, ranking ninja officers, and the clans' representatives already sat, he ignored the small stir of murmurings and staring eyes. It was clear where he would sit, it being the only empty chair in the room, and obviously placed, and he walked to it calmly.

The chamber was set up as an indoor amphitheater, a small half-circle with a pitched floor. There were several levels of seats on the slope, with a large, thick table set at the bottom. Tsunade sat in the middle of this table, with the Council of Elders filling the seats to either side of her. Behind them were the Clan Heads and Heirs of the village's major clans, and behind them were the ranking officers of Konoha's ninja forces. Itachi's seat was at the focus of the amphitheater, where everyone could see him, and he could see everyone. Like the Hokage's and Council's seats, it was a long table. The middle seat was open, and on either side were the members of Team Seven. As Sasuke's Teammates and the most immediate witnesses to his crimes, they were required to give testimonies, so they were to sit the bench as well.

Itachi sat down, flanked by Kakashi and Naruto on his right and Sakura on his left. He caught her uncomfortable/nervous shifting out of the corner of his eye, but ignored it in favor of inspecting his 'judges.'

He was somewhat surprised when the Hokage proved to be a buxom, blonde woman, rather than the elderly, bearded man he vaguely remembered. She stared at him with amber-colored eyes. He met them briefly, and then—as was polite for a Clan whose eyes could kill at a blink—lowered his gaze to the desk in front of him. After an appropriate pause, he looked up again to continue scanning the rest of the faces.

His attention was immediately drawn to a figure in the upper seats—clad in a bone-white robe, hood up, face obscured by a black, blue, and white Bear mask. The vice-commander of ANBU. Itachi, rubbing his left shoulder absently, tried not to stare at the masked ninja. He forced his gaze to the others sitting in that level. Ibiki, the leader of the T&I Force. A man who he did not recognize, but identified by the insignia on his clothes marking him the captain of the Keimu Butai. The rest appeared to be an array of desk ninja, presumably ranking officers from each of the divisions—Intelligence, Tactical, Recovery, Medical, Defense… There were also three typewriters set up in a corner, not a part of the trial, but only there to record the proceedings. The men and women at them looked to be either civilians or very low-ranking ninja.

Itachi's gaze slipped to the next level. He recognized the Nara Clan Head and his Heir by their bored expressions, the Inuzuka by their tattoos and their dogs, the Aburame by their tinted glasses, the Hyuuga and the Yamanaka by their pupil-less eyes (pearl and blue, respectively), and the Akimichi Clan Head and Heir by their masses.

"The Council calls to order the trial of one Uchiha Sasuke," intoned a dry, age-cracked voice. Itachi looked to the speaker—Mitokado Homura. Which meant… yes, right beside him, Utatane Koharu. In their corner, the typists started up in a muted chatter of keys.

"The Council lays before the Hokage and assembled representatives the charges against Uchiha Sasuke…"

A projector clicked and whirred to life, casting an image up on the flat wall behind Itachi and Team Seven, presumably enumerating his crimes. He didn't turn to look at it. His attention was consumed by the last person seated at the Council table.

The paper crinkled in his hand as he held it in front of him for the nth time. His eyes weren't focused on the words; they did need to be, he'd read it countless time already. The words were burned into his mind.

'Preemptive defensive strike.'

"…and three degrees of treasonous acts listed—"

Itachi gasped loudly, his hands slamming down on the top of the desk, interrupting Homura and calling the attention of every person in the chamber to him. He paled and swayed as every memory he previously had not been able to recall came flooding into his mind all at once. It was a buzzing, whirling maelstrom.

He was Uchiha Itachi. Born to the Uchiha Head Family. Graduated the Academy at age seven, activated the Sharingan at four, mastered it at eight, made Chuunin at ten. ANBU captain at thirteen. He'd only been in the elite organization briefly before he became a missing-nin, for the crimes of familicide and treason.

Familicide?

In the surprised silence of the chamber, his whisper was like a shout.

"It was an order. The Uchiha Massacre was on orders."

There was one beat more of silence, and then the chamber erupted into chaos.

TH: Oh yes. I am that evil. See you next week~!