I blink, more surprised than anything as clarity returns. I am still tired, exhausted really, but I can feel my body again. I spend several long minutes just staring at the shifting leaves of the canopy above me, completely lost at the unexpected turn of events. The moon has shifted its position, the shadows falling at a new angle; perhaps an hour or two has passed, it seems.

Am I a ghost? That might not be so bad. I can watch everyone grow up, maybe poke things every once in awhile for fun. Can ghosts touch things?

...Probably not. Not properly, anyway, otherwise people would know they exist and not merely wonder.

Where am I?

I am lying on the ground, but I can sit up easily enough. Dirt, detritus, dead leaves and sweet night air.

My body must have fallen off the tree eventually. Scavengers, most likely. I was pretty far from the village; Obito only found me because fuck me, thats why.

I snort before breaking into a laugh of true relief. All this time I was so afraid of dying, but this isn't so bad.

I rub at my face, trying to clear whatever is blocking my vision out of the way. I don't feel anything on my left eye though; the eye is still there, I just can't see anything.

Why does that seem important?

A chill breeze blows through the wood and I shiver, surprised by the cold.

It clicks.

Reality re-written.

Izanagi.

My hand drifts over my face and comes away wet with blood.

I can do nothing but stare at the unnecessarily red liquid staining my palm for a long moment.

I am still alive.

Hot tears of betrayal begin to fall down my cheeks.

It's not fair. Dying wasn't as bad as I had feared, it was worse. So much worse. The desperate, mad scramble for any possible lifeline going unanswered, the crushing weight of failure, the blinding, stabbing pain of unparalleled fear as my mind dissolved.

And now I'll have to do it again.

I stand up and begin wandering back towards the compound as my thoughts follow the inexorable path laid out for me, face flat and expressionless beneath the drying tears.

Not just 'again'. Forever.

I am still terrified of death, it seems. Dying is awful, yes, but death is still the ultimate unknowable horror. For the brief time I thought myself a spirit it seemed tolerable, but that was a lie. I don't know what death will be like, so I must flee as hard as I can for as long as I can. And Izanagi will make that a very long time. After all, there are replacement eyes in the compound, just sitting out, unattended.

I stand on shaky legs and as I begin to walk a twinge in my knee makes me pause, a sudden wave of dissociation sweeping over me as I reprocess my recent thoughts.

...Did- did I just complain about near immortality?

I pause, stock-still and breathing slightly heavily, staring at the hand still smeared with blood and bits of leaves and dirt.

What was that?

I have been fleeing death for nearly a decade, every second bent towards that goal, gaining strength, a sensei, a team, a promotion, these very eyes, and now, now I was lamenting that it would hurt?

The sudden giggle burst out to wend and wind its way in delirious loops, whirling around the trees, my eye blinking on and off as I swept it over the world around me, my world, the world I was blessed with, with all its flaws and hardships, and yes, opportunities. I glance upward at the moon, almost full and bright as a spotlight in the deepest indigo sky, alabaster and glorious as it shone down upon me in the little clearing to illuminate my smiling face.

I was alive. I survived. Itachi passed me by, the god of death turned his gaze away, and it was only my madness, my weakness and irrationality, that led me straight to the Madara thing. I was blinded, by fear, by faith in a story, by my own little walls, by simple pride.

There had been so many routes to safety, hadn't there? So many things I could have done, so many paths I could have taken, so many chances simply ignored as I rushed pellmell towards… the same fates as all the rest of the Uchiha. Indra's curse must be stronger than I had thought.

I start moving back towards the compound, a spring in my step and a song on my lips. Well, now that I had identified the problem, surely it would be easy enough to fix. After all, all that depression and fear was something the old Hiroki did. He's dead now.

. . .

My father was home for once, probably preparing for the coup. I blink slowly at his corpse where it lies by the entryway before moving further into the house, an emotion I am not quite able to quantify prickling my thoughts like an epileptic sea urchin, all in shades of royal purple and soft, juicy carmine.

My mother is still seated at the dinner table, her expression one of only mild surprise and alarm. They must have been enjoying some evening tea; father got up to answer the door and…

Itachi is very fast.

She is almost untouched, mother. Just a patch of crimson on the chest, a neat wound right through the heart from which her life's blood poured. Dead before she knew what hit her. So beautiful, so beautiful, with her silky, silky ink black hair and alabaster skin and that little wet spot, what's black and white and red all over-

My mouth fills with the bile of an empty stomach and I spit it out in the corner, cheer fading as I pull a scalpel from my small medical pouch, humming to myself and ignoring the slight nausea.

Be prepared, that's the boy scout's marching song...

My medical jutsu is still weak, but the Sharingan is almost a living thing; it wants to be used and transplanting it is always easier than it should be, the chakra coils of the eye aiding the formation of new nerve connections and proper alignment of muscles.

I keep my mind occupied with technicalities while I harvest my mother and father for parts, limbs steady from years of practice pretending everything's okay.

I love you, you love me, we're a happy family…

One eye replaces my blinded left, now Mother really can watch over me forever. Three eyes go into a thick tube of nutrient solution taken from my standard kit (never know when you'll find someone with an interesting bloodline after all) and get sealed into an array tattooed on my chest. One of the few achievements I have managed with fuinjutsu, a Storage Seal which is stable on a substrate of skin, quite useful, like a pocket you can never take off, slowly building up an ecosystem of lint.

I stand, mind unfocused, over my parents' corpses for a long minute, gaze absent and the gears of thought disengaged to spin idly without the strain of reason. I laid them out in the living room, next to each other, nice and straight, still and lifeless…

It might be nice to have confidence in the Pure World, but I really couldn't say for sure if it was a pleasant place or not, never having been there myself. Maybe they'll enjoy it. Maybe I'll see them again. I hope not. The dead should stay that way, safe and static and unimportant, and I can stay alive, forever. Maybe it never even existed.

For now, I have work to do.

. . .

That is how ANBU Boar finds me, in the small hours of the morning, tidying up great uncle Yajirobu's body after pulling out his eyes, my face bloody, my clothes torn, and my eyes a little vacant and far too wide. What a wonder the Sharingan is, for mine remembers all of theirs. There are quite a few to process. Such a lovely family.

"...nothing goes to waste, bless us oh lord and these thy gifts, terrible tragedy, you have your mother's eyes, and your father's, and your cousin's, I'm sorry, we forgive you, we're family, I wanna see you smile, smile, and we're all in this together, forever and ever amen-"

I blink twice at the masked ninja, eyes flickering on and off in the brief space between the double motion; click-click, and saved forever. I smile, quite pleasantly, for the first time in what seems like far too long, and give them a cordial wave before moving on to cousin Tetsuhide, just down the way.

Boar decides, with some understandable trepidation, that I will be safer to transport unconscious.

. . .

When I come back to myself in the cells of the T and I department I am much more sedate, though perhaps not quite rational. It feels like my thoughts are still spread thin, a little slippery perhaps, not quite soaking into my brain and a little bit stiff. It's like ice skating! Weeee!

I regard Ibiki placidly, face calm and expression politely blank, though the effect is somewhat spoiled by over-wide eyes and a cheerful, but still slightly plastic smile.

He taps the table slowly with a single finger, and I fight the urge to twitch in time to the faint ding of the metal, smile fading slightly in the face of the burning waves of sound.

"Uchiha Hiroki."

"Yes sir?"

Be polite to the nice ninja, that's what good boys do.

"What were you doing?"

I blink slowly. Wasn't it obvious?

"Protecting my clan."

Ting, ting, ting-

"From?"

"Bloodline theft."

"I see."

Ting, ting, ting-

"Where were you during the massacre?"

"In the forest."

"Why were you in the forest?"

"I was hiding."

My voice is fading a little, only marginally above a whisper now. I really don't like this line of questioning, and suddenly it occurs to me: I was actually really bad at ice skating.

"Who were you hiding from?"

"Itachi-okamisama. Others."

"Others?"

"I'm not supposed to say."

The finger pauses. Ibiki leans forward, eyes half-lidded and expression flat.

"Oh, but I think you rather should."

My tongue slowly moistens my lips and I smile through the mild pain of growing cognitive dissonance. Oh Itachi, my blood for you, my bone for you, my breath and bile and soul for you, I promised, but-

"It is a secret."

"I can keep secrets. You can tell me. I promise."

My smile grows a little bit less comfortable and the pressure of Ibiki's presence pushes on me hard enough to elicit a faint whine of distress through clenched teeth. I am in the forest again, the orange swirled mask filled with contempt, my eyes jerking in their sockets. Do not speak his name, the devil can hear you when you say his name, but Ibiki works for the village and I'm a good ninja, I have to answer his questions-

"Hiroki, I need you to tell me. Who were you hiding from?"

My mouth works a little but I can't answer. I don't know for sure. What should I say? He has so many names, so many masks, and I don't know, I don't remember, who is in charge or whether it matters-

"I-I- the name, I'm not-, Oohh-, T-tt-, Mmmm-"

My throat clenches uncomfortably and the high pitched noise of distress returns as I rock in my seat. I pause, breathing heavy, and try again.

"Mmaahh- Mmmah-dddaaah-raaa-"

I finally get the word out, throat convulsing hard enough I almost throw up. It's not a lie though! I'm a loyal shinobi, Itachi knew that, I don't lie! Ibiki catches my darting gaze, no trace of what he is thinking on display as he holds me in place with pure presence.

"Uchiha Madara? Isn't he dead?"

It is funny. So funny. The giggle that bubbles up is loud in the deep dark room and it echoes oddly in the shadowed corners, damp and heavy air of the underground moldering away at the noise until it suffocates.

"That is not dead which can eternal lie, and in strange aeons even death may die."

The bandana-clad head tilts to the side. He's so cool, so calm, so in control, such a good ninja, I want that, I'm a good ninja too-

"Is that a poem? I've never heard that one before. Where does it come from?"

"Over hill, over dale. Everywhere. Nowhere. Doesn't matter."

"Oh I disagree."

Ibiki is in my face, and for a brief moment my breathing accelerates again. I try smiling away the adrenalin, but it doesn't quite work and it hurts my head. Ibiki won't kill me. Itachi let me go. I am a loyal shinobi.

"It matters very much, because more than four hundred people died tonight, and the only survivors are Itachi, Sasuke, and you, and we found you at the end of a trail of neatly laid out corpses with their eyes missing, singing to yourself and covered in blood. You are the only one who might know what happened besides a traumatized little boy who hasn't even started the academy yet. You are a ninja of Konoha and I am your superior officer. So yes, it matters, and yes, you are going to tell me everything I want to know, or we are going to start having a very different sort of conversation."

Back to easy questions, what a relief. My smile brightens, displaying pleasantly even and slightly bloody teeth. Smile a little more, Smile a little more, can't you smile a little bit more, don't you love me, Hiroki, Hiroki, HIROKI-

"Oh, I died too."

He seems slightly surprised, barely a flicker of an eyelid, but it is telling.

"I knew something was wrong. Itachi-okamisama had been growing distant. Sad, sad, sad, very sad. He disagreed with some recent policies introduced inside the clan you know. Nuhuh, didn't like them one bit. So, so, I went into the woods, fell to my knees, and begged him not to kill me. And! He let me go, because..."

I'm still not sure exactly. But smiles are nice. My mouth is spread as wide as I can get it, cheeks aching from the strain, Happy, Happy, Happy, taste that blood, know you're alive, proof for all to see, it's okay Hiroki-

"I'm a good ninja! So I ran, until I couldn't run anymore; I think I got a little bit… ahh... but Mm- Mmm- the, the other one came and, and he didn't like that, so he stuck me real good and that was bad, not very nice at all, but it's okay, now, because I am strong, I am, really, you see? I'm a good ninja, I'm strong, I'm loyal, I follow orders, Itachi let me go! But, not the rest of, them. Bad, bad, bad ninja!"

My breath starts to slow from the panicked quickness to something more even as Ibiki settles back into his chair, and my smile is crooked and strained as something starts to break a little, the ice under my feet cracking a bit. But it's all okay. Don't worry mother, I'll carry a piece of you with me always, right here, over my heart, and in my eye socket-

"So then I died. But I couldn't just leave all those eyes unattended."

I let myself slump backwards in the chair, restraints making the position awkward and my eyes still open very very wide and focused on the ceiling as I relax every muscle in my body one by one in practiced series, face reacquiring a more pleasant smile as I reach a new equilibrium state. I sigh contentedly towards the gleaming lights above me, little spots of afterimage chasing each other across my retina as the unsourceable moisture starts to blur it all to a smear of blinding radiance

. . . .

A/N: And we're back. Yeah, first chapter is a bit angsty still, sorry about that, I promise it gets better. This is why I like feedback from all of yall, arc 2 has certainly changed a fair bit from what I had to begin with, much less whinging and so on. Even a few bits that are deliberately funny (or attempt to be, you will be the judge of that).

Special thanks to Jackercracks, Tomb16 and Mother_Mine for their assistance with editing and general notes.