Chapter 84 - War Crimes

Takeru and Yakata left the house together later in the morning. Sasuke watched them go, keeping an icy eye on them as Yakata gave hugs to both Ino and Karai and thanked them for their hospitality.

(Nadeshiko was already long-gone and well out of the way. She had plans to stay with her grandfather for that night, figuring Sasuke needed a day or two to calm down before it was safe for her to return.)

They turned down the road and out into the city, afterward, and were gone.

Yakata walked with Takeru in tense silence for a while, after that. He recognized their path, a little, meandering towards the main section of the city, where the governmental buildings and gate out were kept.

But even with this recognition, and knowing that he'd soon be home with his mama and papa—he hadn't had the time to write to them about it, but he figured it didn't matter in the end—Yakata couldn't stop shivering. It wasn't quite out of fear, but more uncertainty and discomfort.

Even though he knew that this was being done for his protection, to protect him from the people that hated his father, he couldn't help the feeling that he was doing something wrong. Maybe it was the faint sneer of disdain that Takeru seemed to have slid upon his face that day—though Takeru always seemed to be sneering, and maybe this was just magnified by Yakata's nervousness. But even with that taken into account, his narrow features seemed sourer, tighter than usual.

And then there was Sasuke, who had been angry to the point of silence upon Yakata's departure.

…things just seemed far less "okay" than they were supposed to be.

And then Takeru said, softly, "Keep your eyes forward and don't look around. We're being followed." He wasn't looking at Yakata at all.

Yakata's eyes, however, skittered this way and that. "F-followed…?" he whispered.

Takeru gave the slightest nod. "They're hidden, but I can sense them here."

"Wh-why are we being followed…?"

"Stay quiet and close to me. I'll explain when we're in a safer place," Takeru said, in a wind-like hiss.

Yakata's heart began thudding loudly in his ears. Followed? Why were they being followed?

Was it something he'd done? Or his father? A pre-emptive apology began lining his throat, but he managed to say silent.

He stayed as close to Takeru as he could manage, without touching him. Somehow, Yakata didn't feel comfortable with the idea of clinging to Takeru's arm for comfort, or even his hand.

They walked further into the city, and the noises grew louder with the pounding of Yakata's heart.

Everyone seemed to be staring at them, and their expressions were not kind. Takeru, however, seemed unbothered. Yakata ducked behind him further, trying to make himself less visible. Though they were only walking, he was now taking shallow, fast breaths.

The "safer place," it seemed, was the library. Yakata noted, with some degree of disappointment and sadness, that he had not been there once, since arriving in Konoha. That it was these confusing, frightening circumstances that finally brought him there.

It was a fine, khaki-colored building with windows every few feet along the unmarked walls, and it did not seem to be terribly busy. Takeru motioned, needlessly, for Yakata to follow him inside after looking around near the entrance. They took an immediate left, after that, avoiding the librarians at the circular desk in the lobby, and taking a flight or two of stairs down to a basement floor.

The floor onto which they exited was dimly-lit, and consisted mostly of a hallway with doors placed at regular intervals. A bored-looking girl was attending a desk near the entrance to the stairwell, and she perked up significantly upon seeing Takeru enter.

"Takeru-san! You again?" she said. She adjusted her glasses, which were an unusually bright shade of deep violet, and tried to look displeased.

"Shiryou-chan, I couldn't help myself," Takeru replied, with a slight bow. His voice sounded strangely deep and careful. "I needed to come back."

Shiryou tittered. She sounded like a guinea pig squeaking. "You know you can ask anything of me."

"Well, I hope you'll allow me access to the records here today, my little friend here has quite the interest in history."

"Oh! Anything for you, Takeru-san, anything," Shiryou replied, adjusting her glasses again and peering at Yakata for a brief moment. "Oh, and, um, I got those files you asked me for," she added, far more quietly and seriously. "You said you needed them as soon as possible, so when…?"

"I would love nothing more than to receive them now," Takeru replied.

Shiryou guinea-pig-giggled again and opened her desk drawer to take out a paper folder. "Take all the time you need down here. I'll be waiting if you need me…!"

"I know I can always count on you," Takeru replied, taking the folder from her and sliding a finger under her severe chin. This made her giggle again. "Come on, Yakata-kun, this way."

Yakata could see him shaking his head as they went down the hallway and through another door, rubbing the hand that had touched Shiryou's chin, as if trying to get something off of it. They entered a much-darker room full of high bookshelves, punctuated only by plain, electric lights hanging every few feet down the rows. The air smelled stale.

The pair proceeded down several rows of shelves, further and further from the hallway and Shiryou, until Takeru suddenly stopped, looked around, and sighed slightly. "We should be safe here. I managed to give them the slip, I think; this section of the library is restricted. Not just anyone can get in."

Yakata had a feeling that their being there had something do with Shiryou's obvious attraction to Takeru, but the feeling did not last very long, overwhelmed by his worry again. "But Ta-Ta-Takeru-san, why are we being followed…?"

Takeru hesitated, looking sideways for a moment. "It's because of you, Yakata-kun. You're a target."

Yakata's stomach twisted severely. "A t-target? But, but why, did I, did I do something wrong?"

And Takeru, with a devastatingly empty look on his face, said, "Yes, Yakata-kun. You have done something wrong."

Yakata's breathing began to quicken to a worrying degree. "Ta-Ta-Takeru-san, then, then what did I, what did I do wrong? I'm confused, what did I do…?"

"Well, they're not things you'd remember doing..." Takeru said, interrupting him. "Yakata-kun, you haven't been told the whole truth about things. You're not who you think you are."

"Not who I think I…? Takeru-san, I don't, I don't understand…"

The emptiness in Takeru's face was now slightly coated with sympathy. "Yakata-kun, there's no easy way to say this. But my uncle, Itachi… wasn't your father."

The hollow feeling in Yakata's legs only intensified with the twisting of his guts. "He, he, he wasn't…?" Takeru shook his head. "But, but, then, why did Sasuke-san… why did he…?"

"It's because he wanted to protect you, Yakata-kun. From the truth."

"Wha-wha-what truth…?"

Takeru's breath in seemed to last for an age. He then handed the folder to Yakata. "This truth. You need to see it for yourself."

Yakata stared at the folder, and back at Takeru. His mouth was trembling a little, to his shame. "What is this…?"

"Just read it." His voice was, for a moment, like Sasuke's at its hardest. A command, and not a suggestion.

So Yakata opened the folder and began to read.

A photo in the right-hand corner of the piece of paper looked back at him with dull, identical eyes.

It was Itachi. He looked young and slightly bored, or annoyed. Older, though, than the picture that Sasuke had given him, which Yakata had put into his pack, still in its frame. He was maybe Inou's age, or a bit older.

Beside the photo were words, basic information; blood type, a date of birth, a date of death.

That was the first inconsistency. Itachi had been dead for at least seventeen years when Yakata had been born.

Yakata looked up at Takeru for a moment, upon reading this, upon doing the simple math, but Takeru just shook his head and pointed to the papers once more. Keep reading.

So Yakata kept reading.

Some things felt vaguely familiar, half-heard from Sasuke during training. Genin at seven, chuunin at ten, jounin and ANBU captain at thirteen—the ranks had only faint definition in Yakata's mind. Top grades in his graduating class—that could be understood. Mountains of successfully-completed missions.

And then a massacre.

Yakata wondered if, perhaps, he was reading the information wrong. But there was a list of crimes beneath his achievements, and almost all of them seemed to be murders.

And the last name of every victim was Uchiha.

An image and a voice seared their way through Yakata's mind.

"UCHIHA MEMORIAL: These grounds, the former site of the Uchiha clan's compound, stand as a memorial to the lives lost on the night of October 23th, Akiwa 37 (8 BU). May such atrocities never occur again."

"Apart from him, and my children, he's the only living member my clan has left."

"Ta-Takeru-san, wha-wha-what is this…?" Yakata's jaw was shaking like the stuffy basement had suddenly become a frozen cave.

"Keep reading." Takeru spoke, this time. His voice was clipped.

Itachi couldn't have killed all these people, could he…? Not his own family…?

Uchiha Mikoto, Uchiha Fugaku.

Yakata knew those names.

His own mother and father…?

The atrocities continued.

Treason. Affiliation with a terrorist organization, one called Akatsuki. Kidnappings, both attempted and successful. Several more counts of murder, though the names belonged to people that Yakata did not recognize.

These weren't the actions of a kind man, nor one worthy of any respect in the slightest. He was a criminal, a killer.

And the final line in these pages of reports, of photographs of the monstrous, blue people that Itachi consorted with, the full, grim details of the crimes, that Yakata could only bear to skim over, Yakata found something that only confused and terrified him more.

"Defeated and killed by Uchiha Sasuke," followed by a date, and a year.

Sasuke was the one who had killed him…? When he had spoken so highly and so warmly of him before?

Why would he say that such a man was his father, when it was impossible to begin with?

"Takeru-san, why, why, why are you showing me this…?" Yakata said, and was not interrupted, receiving only silence in return. "What does this… what does this have to, to, to do with me…?"

"Because they're things you did. This is why people are after you."

The folder rattled in Yakata's grip. "But I didn't, I'm, I'm, I'm not, but I'm not Itachi, I didn't, I didn't do this stuff…!"

"You used to be him, though."

"I, I, I used to be…?"

"You're really my father's brother, Yakata-kun. Before you were reborn, your name was Uchiha Itachi."

It felt like a fist made of ice had taken hold of Yakata's chest. He shook his head, over and over. "No, that, that, that can't be right, Takeru-san, Itachi, he, he's dead. I'm, I'm, I'm not him…!"

"You are. It's painful, Yakata-kun, and it's difficult for me to even tell you this, but it's the truth, and you deserve to know why these people hate you so much." Takeru's face was grave, utterly serious, though not angry. "You weren't born like a normal person. You were brought back from the dead. Goodness knows how, or who was responsible, but I think it was to give you a second chance. To see if, maybe, you wouldn't grow up to be the monster you used to be."

Yakata wasn't quite sure what to say. All he could do was shiver, wanting, badly, to swallow, but unable to. Irrationality seized him. "B-but I'm not, I'm not a, I'm, I'm, I'm not a monster, I, I, I don't want to hurt anyone…!"

"Oh, I believe you," Takeru said. "The thing is, the rest of the village doesn't seem to feel the same way. You're nobody but a mass-murderer to them, reborn or not. Everyone knows what you've done, by now."

The papers fell out of Yakata's hands with a hard sound, staying together only by virtue of the paper clips attached to them. Takeru did not bend to pick them up, keeping his eyes on Yakata, who now felt like he was undeniably starting to panic.

"But I didn't, I didn't, I don't, I didn't kill anyone, I didn't do a-any of that…! Takeru-san, why…!" His breaths were gasps, short and quick and frantic. "Sasuke-san doesn't, he, he, he doesn't, he doesn't want to k-kill me too, does he?"

Takeru, there, shook his head, closing his eyes. "My father's known who you were from the start, Yakata-kun. And he's been dedicated to protecting you; the last thing he wants is for you to be killed. He tried to keep you a secret from the village as well as he could, while he trained you and kept an eye on you, to see if the same corruption that plagued my uncle had set in on you at all."

Corruption.

"I WON'T LET YOU CORRUPT HIM!"

Sasuke hated Nadeshiko, who had killed someone when she was eight.

And he had gotten rid of Itachi all those years ago, who had murdered his entire family when he was thirteen, who grew up to only kill more people.

"But I don't, I don't, I don't want to hurt anyone, nobody, I don't, I don't want to hurt anyone, I swear…!" Yakata said, keeping his hands close to his chest; his knees felt very weak. "Ta-Takeru-san, I swear…!"

"It's okay, I believe you, Yakata-kun," Takeru said. "And my father does, too. But somehow the government found out who you are and where we've been keeping you, and they want you out of the city. Not for your safety, but for theirs. Because, for all they know, you could just… snap and start killing people, just like you did in your past life."

They thought he was that much of a danger…? Yakata tried opening his mouth to defend himself, but not even stutters came out.

"My father's been trying to keep you hidden—it's why he kept you in the house these past few days—but they're forcing you out," Takeru said. "But he managed to convince them that I should be the one to bring you home, since they wouldn't let him, and he knows better than to let them choose someone. He knew I could keep you safe if they tried something, which they have."

"H-He asked you to, to do that…?"

"Yes, when he told my family who you were, yesterday. Of course, I said yes. I don't want to see you punished for something you yourself were unaware of. Nobody told you that you used to be a monster." He gestured towards the papers on the floor, and went to pick them up.

Yakata's breathing sounded amplified to his ears, like it did whenever he had to hide somewhere, either out of rare play or self-preservation. It was all too much to take in, far too much.

(And yet, one of the strongest thoughts in his mind was, "Does Nadeshiko-san know who I really am, if this is all true?")

(Followed by, "No, this can't be true, this is all too horrible, this can't be happening…!")

(And overpowered, sickeningly, by, "If it weren't true, then why are there people trying to kill me? I did nothing wrong!")

(But he had the blood of dozens of people on his hands, if only by virtue of who he used to be. That had been wrong.)

He'd never been more terrified.

"Yakata-kun, I need you to calm down for me," Takeru said, plainly, adjusting the papers in his hands. "I'm going to get you home safely, I promise. But you need to trust me. All right? No harm is going to come to you."

Yakata managed to nod.

"I'm going to use ninjutsu to make copies of myself, and I'll get one of them to look like you. I'll send a copy out with copy that looks like you back the way we came and lead off the people following us, and I'll leave the library with you through another exit. I'll take you somewhere safe so you can wait for me until I come back for you, once I'm certain we aren't being followed any more. Then I'll get you home. You understand?"

Yakata nodded again, swallowing.

Takeru put a hand on his shoulder, and it made Yakata jump. "I'm going to get you home, Yakata-kun. You're going to be okay."

For the third time, Yakata nodded, but he wished he could have meant it.

Takeru then performed a quick sequence of hand signs, and with a puff of smoke there were suddenly two of him.

And a copy of Yakata.

He was identical, down to his eyelashes and the creases under his eyes, the pink, nearly-healed burns and their bandages.

But his expression was sly and narrow, especially his thin smile.

(Though Yakata didn't think of the look as Takeru's, but possibly his own. And it frightened him.)

(Did he look that scary to other people?)

"I'm going to have my double leave with your double, now," one of the Takerus said. "You and I will be leaving a few minutes after. Follow every instruction exactly, and you'll stay safe. Understand?"

"I, I, I, I understand."

"Good," Takeru said, and his copy left, taking the record of Itachi's—Yakata's—crimes with him, Yakata's own double smirking coldly at him before following.

The still, dusty minutes that followed were full of hot, terrifying thoughts. Takeru's silence did nothing to help.

So this was who Yakata really was? Sasuke's brother, brought back to life for a second chance? His real name—or his past name, at least—was Uchiha Itachi, a name he had thought belonged to his biological father.

Was that why Sasuke had lied to him? Takeru said that it was for his protection, but Yakata couldn't help but think that maybe it was to help prevent the "corruption" he had been talking about. That if Yakata thought of Itachi as a good person, he would aspire to be good, also?

Yakata didn't want to hurt anyone, ever. Not even for revenge. Frankly, he wished that more people would leave him alone, would stop hurting him.

But there were people that wanted to kill him because of this. Many people. And Sasuke had been trying to protect him from them.

This can't be happening, this is impossible, Yakata thought to himself.

But this was happening. Takeru wasn't the sort of person that would lie to him, especially not with a solemn expression like that. He could be mistaken—he was mistaken about Nadeshiko not being able to feel—but he wouldn't lie.

And Sasuke's anger over the past few days, rushing in and out and saying everything was for Yakata's safety, still clinging to that lie about his "father"—it was because he was scared for Yakata, wasn't it?

This was his true identity: that he had two names, two entirely separate lives.

Learning all of this about himself only made everything else make more sense. The over-protective behavior, the constant comparisons to Itachi, the horrible treatment of Nadeshiko…

Though that last thing only made Yakata more fearful, and sympathetic toward his friend. Because she had never killed anyone else, because she was sorry—but maybe only after they'd taken her away somewhere, to remove her corruption and make her sorry, like Takeru had said?

Yakata didn't want to be taken away. He, the present he, not Itachi, not his past self—it was dizzying, trying to think of himself as two people, when he'd only ever thought of himself as one—Yakata hadn't even hurt a single person, and he didn't want to.

…but what if he suddenly did? If he suddenly felt a desire to kill, and couldn't hold it back…?

"We're heading out, now," Takeru said. "Stay quiet and close to me, I'll make sure we aren't seen."

And Yakata nodded, his mind buzzing with anxiety.

He was considering his skills. The things he'd learned from Sasuke. He was no match for Sasuke, surely, but Sasuke was far older and better-trained than he was.

But a common person, defenseless, untrained, would they be able to defend themselves against Yakata, if he ever lost control?

No, Yakata would never lose control, never, he didn't want to hurt people, he just wanted to be left alone.

It was an intense struggle to breathe slowly as he followed Takeru. Even in focusing his concentration, on keeping the breaths even and deep, he wanted to hyperventilate, to run home, alone, so they wouldn't catch him, because this wasn't his fault, but it was, because he was Itachi, he was Itachi, they could still blame him for those things that he'd done, because he had done them, and he could still do things like that, but-

"Stay quiet," Takeru hissed. Yakata, who had started to whimper slightly with the flood of thoughts, bit his lip, hard. An iron echo of a taste covered his tongue from the blood.

He managed to stay quiet the rest of the way, but he kept his hands locked at his chest. Some small, high, paranoid little thought told him that he couldn't trust them.

Takeru, through a route of back alleys and shadow-covered roads, led him to a forest, surrounded by a high, chain-linked fence. They stopped at a gate; it was locked with chains and a padlock.

"This is where I leave you," Takeru said. He took the lock from the gate and held a finger up to its bottom, and with a shock of blue chakra like a static discharge, the lock clicked and opened. He began to work on removing the chains. "It's a nature reserve. If all goes as planned, I should have misled them enough with our copies to get them on the wrong trail, but putting you here won't hurt our chances. There's no chance you'll be found in here, it's completely safe."

The trees beyond the gate were tall, with thick trunks; moss dripped from branches where it did not creep over bark. Strange birds called out from within. "H-h-how long are you gonna, gonna keep me in here…?" Yakata said.

"A couple of hours. I'll come back around sunset so we can leave under cover of night."

"B-but that's, that's, that's a long time from now…!"

Takeru swiveled around, opening the gate as he went. "Don't you want to get home safely? You don't want them to catch you, do you?"

"No, no, I don't, I don't, please, no…!" Yakata shook his head frantically.

"Then trust me. You'll be fine in a forest alone for an afternoon, won't you? You're more than competent. Especially considering who you are."

Yakata sucked in a breath to offset the swell of dread that rolled into his stomach.

"O-okay," he said.

Takeru smiled, slightly. "Right, then. In you go. You'd do well to get yourself in further, there's a better chance they'll see you if you keep near the fence. I'll be back before you know it."

"B-but how will you, how will you find me…?"

"I have my ways."

And before Yakata could say anything in return, the gate was closed behind him.

Yakata was alone.

(And Takeru was, as well. Though his afternoon, he was sure, would be far more pleasant than the boy's.)