Mother Revolution

Lucky me, I guessed the kind of man that you would turn out to be...

Mikoto, kneeling on the floor of the Uchiha family home beside her husband, cannot reconcile the strange man with her beloved older son. Surely Itachi would never do such a thing. Not to his own mother and father.

And yet...he'd massacred the rest of the clan. Body piled on body as Itachi had hacked and slashed and burned his way through the Uchiha compound. Not one Uchiha was spared, not even his auntie and uncle who owned the cracker shop, not even the sick or the young or the old.

She could feel the tip of his katana, ice-cold under her chin and against her throat. He is deliberating over which one to kill first. Fugaku's eyes are filling with tears. He has always favoured Itachi over his little brother, and now the favoured son is an enemy.

All because of one cruel choice. Your village, or your family. Choose one, and your little brother lives; choose the other, and we cannot guarantee his safety. If only the Fox hadn't been released. If only Fugaku had been kinder. If only Itachi had never joined the ANBU. If only that bastard Danzo hadn't got his hands on Itachi. If only, if only, if only.

It could have been so different.

They say that when you die, your life flashes before your eyes, but two lives flash before Mikoto's. Her own, and her son's.

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Newborn. She is in Konoha Hospital, holding a tiny dark-haired baby in her arms, exhausted after a long labour, but happy that the Uchiha clan has a heir now. He will be a strong shinobi, Fugaku will make sure of that, and she will do her bit too.

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Three years old. Itachi is already learning hand seals. He has always been a quick learner, walking and talking early. "We'll have you doing Katons in a couple of years at this rate," Fugaku laughs, and ruffles Itachi's hair.

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Five years old. "Can I hold him?" Itachi asks his mother. "I promise I won't drop him. Please?" Mikoto knows Itachi can be trusted. She hands Itachi his new baby brother, and Itachi holds him as gently as if he were made of glass. Sasuke stirs, and opens his eyes, and looks up into Itachi's beaming face.

"Hello, Sasuke," says Itachi tentatively. He has brought his old teddy into the hospital with him, and waves it in Sasuke's direction. Sasuke squeals happily and reaches for Itachi's hair.

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Six years old. Mikoto and Fugaku are off to an urgent clan meeting. As the Kyuubi rampages around Konoha, Itachi pleads to come with them, and grabs at Fugaku's trouser leg, but Fugaku shoves him off and orders him to look after Sasuke. Mikoto unceremoniously dumps Sasuke in Itachi's arms. The last thing she hears as she runs after her husband is Sasuke screaming.

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Ten years old. The Chuunin Exams. Itachi stands triumphantly in the arena, his arms raised above his head, as his opponent lies beaten and the jounin referee declares him the winner. Sasuke sits on Mikoto's lap and bounces up and down, shouting, "'Tachi! 'Tachi!" Itachi scans the crowd for his family, spots his mother and brother, and waves.

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Thirteen years old. "Mother! Mother! I've become an ANBU captain!" Itachi shouts, charging through the door. Normally, he is more subtle than this, but on occasions he breaks out of his shell. Sasuke is playing in the corner of the kitchen, and on hearing his brother, he jumps up and barrels into Itachi, who picks him up and swings him around. Fugaku sighs and shakes his head.

"Fancy training with me later?" Itachi asks Sasuke. Sasuke looks up at him with adoring eyes.

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Some months later. There are strange days upon the Uchiha clan. Itachi is becoming more and more secretive. Twice Mikoto and Fugaku have caught him out, when he has not been where he said he would be. The ANBU has changed him. He rarely smiles, except when he is playing and training with Sasuke, who follows him around like a devoted puppy. He has attended Sasuke's enrolment ceremony, a teenage boy among clan heads. Fugaku should have been there, and Itachi has still not forgiven him.

Now Fugaku is upbraiding Itachi for missing yet another clan meeting. Itachi is sullen and stares at the floor. Mikoto, washing dishes, listens but does not join in. Fugaku is clan head and he knows best. Itachi mutters something, and Fugaku says, "That's not a fitting attitude for a future clan head."

"I don't want to be clan head, Father," replies Itachi.

Mikoto wonders how Fugaku will react. Fugaku does not yell or use his Sharingan. He merely says, "Then thank the gods I have two sons. At least Sasuke will not disappoint me."

"He's always disappointed you," snaps Itachi. "And only now you start caring about him?"

"I have always cared about him," retorts Fugaku, "and besides, you're a fine one to talk. Are you a part of this clan or are you not, Itachi?"

Sasuke is standing in the doorway. He has heard every word.

Then there is a knock at the front door, and Mikoto opens it to find Danzo Shimura standing there.

"What do you want?" Mikoto asks, trying to keep her voice as level as possible. She has hated Danzo ever since he and the elders decreed that the Uchiha be shut off from the rest of the village. She did not release the Kyuubi. Neither did her sons. Why should they be punished?"

"Is Itachi in?" asks Danzo.

"He doesn't want to see you," Mikoto begins, but Itachi appears at her side and says, "Mother, it's alright." He isn't smiling. Mikoto wonders what that horrible old man could possibly want with her son.

"I don't like him, Mummy," says Sasuke, clinging to Mikoto's dress.

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The katana is no longer at Mikoto's throat; Itachi has chosen, and Fugaku will be first. Itachi looks down at his parents, grey and ghostly in the moonlight streaming through the window. His Sharingan glitters.

Is he crying?

"Please, Itachi," she hears Fugaku say. "Whatever you do after you've killed us both...please make sure that Sasuke is looked after."

Mikoto forces herself to speak. These will be her final words, and she must choose them carefully. "We love you," she says. "We're...we're both very proud of you. Itachi."

Itachi says nothing. He merely nods. For the last time, Mikoto smiles at her son. In that brief instant, he is a little boy again. A dark, shaggy-haired little boy with a turned-up collar and a shy smile and a great future ahead of him...to be used as nothing more than a political plaything by his superiors. To be torn between his family and his village. This is not the future she had hoped for him.

It could have been so different.

Fugaku collapses to the floor, his throat slit. Mikoto bites her lip and forces herself to stay calm and dignified. An Uchiha matriarch must die with her dignity intact. She tries not to think about the dreadful reality, that this teenager with the katana in his hand is the same boy she has loved and raised for thirteen years. Thirteen years. He is still a child.

She had always believed he would be great, but not like this. Never like this.

It could have been so different.

And Itachi neatly and quickly slices her throat open, and blood fills her mouth as she drops to the floor on top of Fugaku's body. She is dead by the time Sasuke has arrived, his big dark eyes filled with horror and confusion as he finds his beloved older brother, his hero, the man he aspires to be like and win his father's approval, standing over the bloodstained corpses of his parents.

It could have been so different.