NOTICE: This is part of a double update along with chapter XIV, so make sure you read that one before this. This is the final chapter.

XV.

The day the massacre would take place—the Fated Day—was a strange day.

I never thought I would be able to feel the difference—just assumed it would sneak up on me like any other day, mundane and uneventful up until the night of the slaughter, but it was different. Almost like living in a dream. Maybe it was because this was one of the most predominant scenes in flashbacks and its execution was always so poignant that it just stuck in my head and didn't let go, stamped on my brain forever. It was like everything was overlaying that memory, playing out like a recording. Like déjà vu. Even my morning meal with Satoshi and Emiko felt like something I'd done before, even though there was no way I could have known exactly what they'd been doing on this day, not to mention what I'd been doing, since I wasn't even there in the first place.

But it was familiar. It was something that was already carved out, something I knew, like wearing a pair of old, cozy shoes. It was like my steps were predetermined. Like my free will was snatched away, even though I knew I was controlling what I did.

Maybe it was because I'd thought about the day so much, so often, over the past fifteen years, combining it with scenes from the series, that I'd somehow imagined a thousand possible scenarios that just coincided with what was happening in real time.

But, because I knew this was the day, I could prepare myself. Say my last words to my family. And, as fate would have it, we were all present that morning to eat breakfast together—something that barely happened once a week, before. It was like the world was giving me a chance to say goodbye to the family that had raised me in this lifetime.

"Hey, uh," I coughed a little awkwardly as I pushed the food around on my plate, not having an appetite because my nerves were stretched thin and my stomach was so tense I probably would have thrown up whatever I ate that day. I didn't know where to begin. How was I supposed to go about saying my final words to the people who were my mom and dad? But this was my only chance. I wouldn't see Satoshi again until the evening or nighttime because of his schedule—he would never make it back home, where I planned to stay until the end. Emiko might come back after her daily rounds and visits with our neighbors, but that wasn't a certainty. Besides, I wanted to tell them together.

"Is something wrong, Rika? You haven't touched your food," Emiko observed after taking a sip of her tea.

"You should eat to keep your strength up." Satoshi's words were less warm than Emiko's and more matter-of-fact, but at least it showed he still cared. Even if I was difficult and unruly, rebellious and probably never made their life the easiest thing to live.

I set down my chopsticks and smiled a little, glancing down at my lap. "No, I'm just not really hungry. And I know." I glanced up curiously, quickly, to see that their eyes were set on me, both reflecting slight worry. "I'm just—I've been thinkin' about it for a while, and I know I've been a handful these past few years. Really troublesome and bratty and kinda awful. Selfish. But you two stuck by me no matter what and did your best with me, and I just want to let you know I appreciate that. And, well, uh, sorry for everything I did. I'll try to be a better daughter from now on." I used the edge of the table to rise to my feet and made my way towards the hall, stopping just in the doorway but not looking back at them to see what their expressions looked like. Probably surprised. Suspicious, because I never said things like that and opened my heart so candidly. I just fought and stayed stubborn until the end. But, well, I had to finish with some dramatic flair, too, now that I'd already begun. "Thanks for everything, Mom. Dad. I love you both."

I didn't wait for them to reply. It was supposed to be a final farewell, and I already knew they both loved me. Reciprocating the words weren't necessary.

That, and I just wanted to come off as really cool, just once in my life.

But, of course, Emiko had to go and ruin it all for me by grabbing me in a hug from behind and pulling me back into the dining area, sounding all maudlin and emotional. "Rika! Jeez, what's gotten into you, saying things like that? Are you finally mature? Responsible? Satoshi, is this really our daughter?!"

"M-Mom, you're choking me—"

Satoshi eased Emiko's arms away, but she still held on, albeit not as tightly as before. She really had an iron hold—I was surprised I didn't die. Then, Satoshi set his hand on my head and smiled, just a little.

"It is. She's the same rebellious one we've always had, Emiko."

Emiko shifted her hands to my shoulders and spun me around so I could face them both and see their proud, parental smiles. Not the usual scowls or exasperated frowns, shadowed eyes and stressed expressions, but light, thankful smiles. "Ah, you're right. She is. And we never could have asked for a better daughter."

"We love you too, Rika. And we always will. So, let's just keep on doing our best." Satoshi ruffled my hair and I looked away, feeling something misty in my eyes.

"Y-yeah. Let's."

Maybe they felt that the end was coming, too.

The pen stops moving. My thoughts end here and, well, really, there's just not a lot more to say. I spent the whole day filling up this empty notebook—one Emiko had given me for one of my grade school year birthdays to use at the Academy, which never really happened—with the best memories of the past fifteen years of my second life in Konohagakure as Uchiha Rika, and what I just finished writing happened only a few hours ago.

The rest isn't worth writing about, because it would just be writing about, well, writing. Rage-writing through an entire lifetime from the midday hours to the evening just to pass the time by and to remember all of the good times.

The sun sinks low towards the horizon and the sky is red, orange, fading into brownish purples, but the red is brightest to me because it's as deep as blood and a stark reminder of the upcoming genocide that's to happen in only a few short moments. Within the hour, maybe. Maybe two. Three. It's hard to tell, only that I know it's happening, and soon.

I'm ready. I don't have any regrets.

I take the several pages filled with my short life history and run my hand fondly over the cover. Then, I hold the book over the tip of the flame of the candle set on my small writing desk and watch the paper catch fire, burning, smoldering, blackening and crumbling into ash from the bottom up while gray flakes flutter to the varnished wood below.

My life—going up in flames.

A reflection of what would happen in a matter of hours. But then again, maybe I'm just erasing my tracks.

It's dramatic, I know, but earlier in the day I went the extra mile and pulled on my dark, darkest Uchiha clothes, deep, deep plum as close to black as I would allow, and black shorts. My mourning clothes.

Fully prepared, see? But it isn't just for me—it's for the whole clan.

After the flames flicker away and the papers are left as little more than a clutter of dust, I brush the remnants away into the trash bin and just...sit. There isn't really much of anything else to do.

I look down at the dragonfly hairpin on my desk and reach out to touch it—wondering if I should keep it on or leave it off, but really what does it matter?

Dragonfly.

A dragonfly.

Now, when I finally have the chance to let my thoughts wander and just distract me to fill out the time, I notice the irony of it all.

Like a dragonfly, my life has been short. Full of excitement and freedom to experience life as it is, as it happens, and having the future and the end in mind but only as a distant inevitability, not something to hold me down or push me back. I'd spread my wings and flew in the only way I knew I could—by doing whatever I damn well pleased, even if it fell short of flying.

I did have more than just a few months to live this life, but for all I knew, fifteen years—with only about twelve of those counting after I learned how to walk and stampede all over the place—of a human life was the equivalent to four or so months living as an adult dragonfly. Hell, even then, I didn't even really get to reach the adult stage a second time.

Would have been nice to try sake in its natural, cultural background.

But, of all things, the universe had to associate me with dragonflies. It sent me a fuck-you back in kind for all I'd done, but I guess I shouldn't expect anything less.

Like a dragonfly, I'm about to meet my end, too. And I'm going to be helpless to that fate.

Soon, it's dark. Nighttime. The stars twinkle bright in the sky and the only light in my room comes from the candle that's still lit, burning strong, but I expect it to blow out sooner or later, too, because it just seems appropriate. I'm not going to try to avoid anything. Hell, I left my door and window open just to make it convenient to get to me, not that it would be much of an obstacle if I hadn't done so. Things like that are nothing for highly trained shinobi.

Then, I hear the curtains swish—it could be the wind, but I know it's not, because the candle flame flickers out and leaves only a whisper of smoke in its wake, swirling, swirling, before fading out.

I know it isn't the wind, because death becomes a tangibility when it's been experienced once before. Like a sixth sense, it's always lingering, just there, right out of sight, until it's upon you, like a metaphorical whack-a-mole hammer, just waiting to strike. And you're the mole.

I know it's Itachi, because I can feel it. Not just death, but the remorse. The pain. He has—will, already has—slaughtered women and children. Elderly. People who he'd known and loved.

And there's no escape. For either of us. But for me—it's a gift. A release. A day to party and cheer and paint the town red (in this case literally), because, finally, finally, I'm that much closer to returning to my lost lifetime!

I can't help but smile.

But, still, I can't bear to face him, either, because I'm afraid I'll see the grim reaper's face instead of Itachi's. Maybe I'm afraid I'll turn around and see him wearing a creepy mask like those killers in horror flicks or, god forbid, a clown mask because wouldn't that just make this situation so much better—no.

I'm afraid I'll see him crying. I'm afraid I'll cry and make an idiot out of myself—but, wait. I'm already crying. Just a little. Not really sure if it's out of happiness or uncertainty, fear of the unknown, whatever. But it is happening. And it may have already happened to Emiko and Satoshi—I don't know. For all I know, Emiko could be lying in the living room, dead, bloody, with a blooming gash across her chest or back or whatever, whatever way he'd chosen to kill his brethren, but of course he would have made it quick and painless so there wouldn't be any suffering.

Maybe I should have planned this out a little better and put up streamers and balloons and a big ol' banner stamped with 'WELCOME, DEATH' and thrown confetti around just to ease the atmosphere—but that might have just scared him away, and that's the last thing I want at this point.

"Hey—what are you waiting for? Do it. Just make it quick and I'll forgive you, okay?"

It's all I can say. I don't want to make this hard for him, because it's something he has to do. It's the path he's chosen, like Shisui chose his, like I chose mine. We can't go back and change these things once they're already in motion, and they can't be stopped halfway. He has to go through with this. He has to kill us all, and only leave Sasuke.

It's his fate. Just like mine is to die at his hands.

There's a pause. An intake of breath, because it can't be easy, it can't be simple to slaughter so many members of his family in one night, because he's gentle, so gentle. Everyone knows it. His family knows it. It's why he can't bear to kill Sasuke, why he leaves him alive, to suffer alone, to learn the truth, to...to change things.

It's sad.

Then I can hear him grip his katana and the blade swishes through the air, quickly, silently and I'm ready, I'm waiting, smiling, for the deep embrace of death—

"Thank you for looking after Sasuke."

Those are the last words I hear before the world jerks to a stop, before darkness closes in, but it's not the last thing I hear.

Somewhere, in the distance, away from here, away from us, away from this world, a baby is crying, waiting for me, for my soul, because the cycle continues; because it isn't the end, not just yet—not for me.

My life still sucks, and that's never changed.

END

End notes and an extended thank you:

Here it is. The curtain's been drawn. The…end. Well, not the end, end because although the poll closes later today (hurry hurry hurry and go put in your final votes), I'll still write those two promised extras for the two characters with the most votes. I'll post them up as an additional chapter/epilogue to this fic when they're ready (won't be until after November).

BUT. For all means and purposes, this is the end to Rika's story. Full stop. It's kinda weird that it's all over and out in public now, but that's that. Whether you, Readers, liked it or not, whether you rolled your eyes and scoffed in disgust and disappointment, or whether you got feels whiplash from the emotional roller coaster, thank you so much for making it to this point and joining me on this crazy train ride. I'm just so completely awed by all of the reviews and comments, fanart and general love this story has gotten—even though Rika's goal was to die and that didn't change in the end and, well, everything was given to you from the start so I hope it wasn't too big of a shock. Really, reading all of your reviews (and I did read every single one, even if I missed replying at times…most of the time) was an adventure in itself and I'm eternally grateful for you all as an audience.

Even though Rika steadfastly remained out of the shinobi lifestyle, I'm glad you all enjoyed reading about her adventures wreaking havoc for the Uchiha clan. Comedy can be a hit-or-miss thing, so I guess I got lucky in striking up such a positive reception with this weird, wild and facetious fanfic. I never thought it would get as popular as it did, really! But I am happy to hear that it's lifted some of you readers' moods and made you laugh, cry, smile, shake your heads, roll your eyes maybe…anything! I was glad to hear about it all. Yeah, even the pain and heartbreak. Sorry about that.

This story began as practice in completing something for once and it was a 50k word dash throughout the entire month of November 2014, so it's not perfect and maybe it doesn't make a lick of sense since it was a rush job, but I'm glad I wrote it anyway and I'm pretty proud that I did carry it through to completion.

So I hope you all had fun, too. I don't have anything else to say and I don't want this to get any longer, so—thank you. Thank you all so much! Let's go forward and do our best and live our lives to the fullest just like Rika! Only maybe don't go run around trying to tip over cows and making children cry.

-Kettobase