Hymn of the Forsaken
Summary: For so long, the Uchiha had been bound to the Land of Fire, until now.
Uchiha Sasuke travels the land, free and unbound from Konoha. Here is how the world has taken notice.
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Notes: This is unfortunately unbetaed. I also had a rush of inspiration, so this came out quite earlier than I normally would be capable of.
This is an experiment too, so be warned this isn't the smoothest of stories. I'm not sure what I was thinking with how I made this, but this has gone through a number of wringers that I decided I might as well post this before I tore everything apart again. Hopefully, this is at least enjoyable.
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II. Hold onto Your Voices
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Lord Setsuna, the newly ascended Daimyo of the Land of the Rice Fields, fidgeted as he waited for the Otogakure contingent to pass through the halls. It was one of his most hated duties when he was the heir, but at least before, he could stay hidden. At times, he could even skip the whole endeavour. But now he could no longer afford to, he was now the Daimyo and with it came the multitude of responsibilities it entailed.
This current meeting was even more important. It was the first time Setsuna as Daimyo would meet the Otokage, who was also bringing his newest recruit. Or acquisition, as a number of people would whisper in awe.
The last Uchiha, they would mutter in disbelief. The news had rocked the know world. Spread like wildfire and gave their small poor nation power and legitimacy. An unheard of feat in the power play monopolies of the five great Shinobi nations. Setsuna would still remember the sneering condescension they first received when they announced the formation of Hidden Sound. Even the presence of the legendary Sannin, Orochimaru, was not enough to give them the recognition they sought. But to gain an Uchiha was a different story, and the rest had begun to sit up and take notice.
It made this event less of a chore to Setsuna. He was really more of a historian than a warlord. The past and it's tales, interested him more than the subtle weave and posturing that ruling entailed. To get to see a member of the legendary clan was a dream to him. Something he thought impossible by the fact that members of the clan had been corralled inside Konoha's walls. Then the massacre nearly wiped them from existence.
He nodded absently as they went through the normal courtesies. Perhaps he should be paying more attention to the Otokage, yet he could not help but be drawn to the silent veiled figure that was the last Uchiha. He wasn't sure whether or not he was to be disappointed or intrigued. He wasn't sure what they were aiming for, dressing him up like the noble figures of old. The uchikatsugi with its tall wide brim hat and long waterfall of white netting turned Uchiha Sasuke into a imposing and frightening presence.
'Like a ghost,' Setsuna thought with a shudder. A sentiment shared by many due to the wary glances the silent figure wrought.
"Perhaps the young Uchiha Sasuke should unveil himself in the presence of his lord," a voice suddenly cut through the murmured courtesies. Setsuna turned a disbelieving gaze at the only person stupid or brave enough to speak such a request. The request seemed to almost insinuate that Uchiha Sasuke should prove his identity, proved that the clan has truly defected. To no one's surprise, it was Hajime Tora, an advisor trusted by his father. He was one of those men Setsuna could never determine if they were a visionary or a absolute fool. It was his urging that allowed Hidden Sound to gain credence. It was also his urging that led to the disastrous invasion of Konoha.
Orochimaru's face contorted in annoyance. There was an uncomfortable cough. Before any barbs could be flung, Uchiha Sasuke peered out of his veils. A collective breath was held as a lone black eye appeared, set against pale aristocratic features.
Setsuna could feel himself drown. The intense gaze zeroed at him and would not release him. They seemed to say, I know your secrets. And just as sudden, it stopped. The veil dropped and he could breath again.
"My thanks," Advisor Tora choked out. His hands were trembling.
Whatever the last Uchiha did, it affected everyone. For some had looked down in deference. Others were white with shock. The rest were tight lipped and grim. For that single gaze had proven him an Uchiha. A legendary saviour or a nightmare?
It depends on what stories you listen to.
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Come along children and let me tell you the tale of the god of the storms, the god of thunder, lightning and rain.
He is a fierce and terrible god. A life-giving god. Which aspect is true or false we cannot say. For just as a storm leaves destruction in his wake, so does it send water to nourish our fields, quench our thirst and cleanse our land.
But whatever you wish to see, there is one thing that is certain. He is our king. A great figure. A mighty one. He who comes in many names.
The storm god, as he is called by men.
Osu, the name his mother gave.
Takeru, the name he took.
And the name his father gave him?
Indra.
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'Was it possible for legends to be absolute truths, free from embellishments?'
It was a fanciful thought that popped into Lord Setsuna head as the smiling face of Uchiha Sasuke greeted him. A bold move considering he had just been introduced to the Daimyo's court today. A shock in itself as he had made himself at home in the Daimyo's personal quarters, with tea prepared for the lord and his advisors, while bringing an unknown retainer who watched warily from the shadows.
"Come sit," Uchiha Sasuke invited them with a gracious sweep of his hand. Absently, Setsuna took the seat followed cautiously by one of his advisors, Oda Mitsuki, whilst Hajime Tora steamed in affront. Not surprising, his advisors reaction. Hajime Tora was so like his father, a rough ambitious war hawk thru and thru, while Oda Mitsuki was a sly cautious man who weighed every single word and deed.
He took no offense of the presumption. There was an undeniable sense of ownership in the young man, an unconscious arrogance of a man born into power. A power that had to be acknowledged; buried it was in the crumbling annals of their land, written by guilt ridden men. It made Setsuna feel like a supplicant. A funny sensation for a man born to rule as well.
"Tell me Lord Setsuna," Sasuke spoke once again. "Why did your father agree to the creation of Hidden Sound?"
"It's not that difficult," he answered wearily. "Respect, power, protection."
"Why continue it?"
It was a surprising question. A loaded question in truth. So much so that both his advisors burst out in a flurry of protests.
Setsuna gave the query the contemplation it deserved. He had always had misgivings about the endeavour. He had never voiced them out loud, content in playing a supportive son. He did understand his father's desire, but thought it was a mad quest that attracted the equally mad. For how else can he describe the legendary Sannin, Orochimaru, and his desperate search for immortality. And his father's dream of their land becoming a power to rival the five great Shinobi nation, was just as crazy and unrealistic as living forever.
It was a dream of deluded men. Hidden Sound earned them nothing but contempt and indulgence. The five great nations viewed them as a new toy to play with as they see fit, not an equal. It was only with the news of the Uchiha's defection that they begun to show signs of worry. But what did it matter to Setsuna. He had no such ambition. The only thing he wished for was his land to prosper, his people treated fairly, and their goods unencumbered. To protect his people and never become forcibly suckered into those devastating Shinobi wars that brought nothing but grief.
Setsuna wondered briefly what answer he would give. Uchiha Sasuke's agenda was difficult to parse. His presence as the silent sentinel trailing after the Otokage had given no clue on his loyalties. Should a misspoken word reach Orochimaru. Well Setsuna had no illusions on who wielded the power in their relationship.
He realised though there was no way to lie. The dark knowing gaze of the Uchiha had pinned him like a butterfly. Those wicked eyes, as men throughout the ages have dubbed them in fear. The eyes that were able to see truth from lies. Perhaps he harboured a thought that it was all made up stories, but this one encounter disabused him of the notion.
'May the gods favour our land,' he thought.
Lord Setsuna, current Daimyo of the Land of the Rice Fields, spoke with a resolute gaze. He poured his all his hopes, and prayed it will be enough. "Because I have hope, my people can determine their own future."
Just as he said those words, the world erupted in a crash and a flash of blood. He found himself sitting dumbly by the table. Besides him, one of his companions, the advisor Tora was wrestled face down on the table, shoulder seeping blood. The shadowy retainer he dismissed earlier casually holding the old man down in his bloody claws. Shocked, he didn't care about the rapidly cooling tea that soaked his robes. He could only stare at disbelief at the man revealed. Half-man, half-bird. A winged male form with the head of a hawk and sharp curved claws to tear everything asunder. A figure of myth and legend, god and monster. Garuda, king of the birds.
Setsuna reached out to Mitsuki in shock. But all he felt was air. Looking to the side, he was greeted by another confrontation. Mitsuki and Uchiha Sasuke were in a stand-off. The latter's tessen was unfurled at the former's throat who also held his own weapon and was simply restrained by a strong arm. Locked in a stare, the two men moved not an inch, until Mitsuki bowed his head in deference.
"Tell me Suna," Sasuke spoke, keeping his attention to the man he still held up at blade point. "Hasn't the Land of the Wind learned that all their skulking about never got them what they needed?" Snapping the fan close, he turned a haughty look at the other restrained man, "and you, what stupidity caused the Land of Lighting to abandon their highly effective spying for some paltry assassination attempt?"
Stunned silence greeted those words. Setsuna could not believe his ears. He had resigned himself to the betrayal of his father's advisors, a long forgone conclusion that has happened to every heir that had taken their father's place. But a spy? Oh that cannot be borne.
"You're mad," Tora snarled, struggling, while Mitsuki had remained silent. "Tell your monster to get off!"
"Well now you've just told me your not from here," Sasuke mocked. Tora's dismissal of Garuda was a bit surprising, Setsuna mussed, for everyone had grown up with stories of the power and might of the legendary bird and the master it served. Respect should have been bred down to the marrow of their bones, Uchiha Sasuke's presence notwithstanding which seemed to radiate from the very tips of his fingers. He does not feel like a boy to him, but something older. But perhaps with Tora who prided himself to be a visionary, such tales are objects to be dismissed.
"What on earth are you blathering about?!" Tora snapped as sharp claws drugged into his shoulder in warning. It sent more blood trickling.
"Do you even know who's pining you down?" Sasuke replied back in query. He had arranged himself in a casual pose, radiating amusement as he observed the three men. "Lord Setsuna, perhaps you would care to inform our Kumo nin."
"Impossible!" Setsuna turned a disbelieving stare at his father's favourite adviser. The man who had pushed the previous Daimyo to the excess of ambition with Hidden Sound and all its triumph and folly. Why, he could not understand. He had no delusions as to their impact in the world, fairly little.
"He is Garuda," Mitsuki suddenly spoke, intense and weighing. "The King which the summons bow before. In Suna, we tell the tales of his master, the storm. The great destroyer with its crushing wind. The great giver with its life-giving rain. In Suna, to show their worth, every Kage-to-be must challenge the storm and live."
"The king of the birds," Setsuna spoke. His throat felt dry. The air thick with tension and possibility. "Here, He is a blessing for his flock protects our fields and kills those who will destroy it. His master is the storm. Life-bringer and death-bringer. He is justice incarnate."
"And in Kumo, you erased all tales of him. Challenging a legend is difficult huh?" Sasuke continued, subdued and strangely troubled. He mused out loud, studying the still restrained spy as his Sharingan swirled. "You've been quite good, keeping all the other great nations busy. You've all been busy scrabbling to gain whatever foothold from every dratted war and nothing has ever come of it. But now, you've weakened Konoha masterfully, but instead of taking advantage, Kumo tries this! What are you going to gain from this? You've always had the mirror. That damn sword is still at Konoha, so is the jewel since they won it from Iwa."
"We are protecting what's ours."
Sasuke reared back, affronted. "I have no designs for that thing. I have done nothing to claim it."
"Konoha let you go. How are we to trust them/"
"What did you agree upon?"
There was no answer. The two were locked in a stare, until Sasuke sighed. "You don't know? Very well, go tell your Daimyo and Kage, I care not for that mirror. Unless you cross me, then there will be consequences."
Sasuke waved an absent hand. "Garuda, please," he spoke just as the said myth dragged his struggling prisoner and leaped out of the window.
"So," Sasuke easily broke the silence. His attention was now on the two. There was a grim twist in his lips. "The alliance. Wind has need of a cheaper source of food and water. Rice Fields has an abundance of food and need of a better buyer."
He then smiled, a small amused twinkle in his eye. It was so jarring from his previously grim persona that it brought exclamations of exasperation from the two men.
"It's not that simple," Setsuna cried out.
"What are you going to gain from this?" Mitsuki shot back.
The two men were skeptical. Certainly, Sasuke's read on the situation was brilliant in its simplicity. But there is a complicated mix of borders and alliances that separated the two domains. One misstep will bring the wrath of one or all of the remaining great nations, especially since Konoha had enjoyed a monopoly on trade. A monopoly that Suna had so resented them for, it pushed for the failed invasion. It was a tool so effective, Konoha would likely try to preserve at all costs. But both men would admit, if Uchiha Sasuke succeeded, it will be a glorious coup.
"First, Fire is too busy rebuilding. The Land of Waters is rocked by internal strife. The Land of Rivers will be probably sniffing out an alternative source. That's a start," he replied with a shrug, then a pause. Slowly, he spoke in a weighted tone. "Second, you saw how Lightning simply reacted to my presence. For sure, they will decide to move, just as Fire and Stone will. They each have the Imperial regalia and they have waited for so long…"
With a bitter twist of his lips, Sasuke murmured, "Why do you think these wars have happened unceasingly?"
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Let us tell you the tale of the two brothers, Osu.
It's not a beautiful tale. It's a tragic one. It's a tale that heralds the downfall of the Imperial line.
The great Emperor Keiko had a son. Osu, his mother named him. He was a fine son. A passionate man raised with the burden of the crown that he learned to control his passions early. He grew up vowing to be a just ruler, unmoved by anything but the sense of righteousness and the desire to protect and to rule well. But such solemnity did not sit well with the weary Emperor. He looked at Osu and saw not a fine young man. Instead he saw all the cares that weighed him and his family before him. The great king could not bear it, so he shunned his only son.
Osu hid his hurt deep. He buried himself in his duties. Toured the land as the arbiter of Justice, the stern strong arm unmoved by tears. They called him the oncoming storm, he who destroys or gives back life.
In his travels, he meets a young man strong and bright. Osu was fascinated. They had the same name, the same age, and looked nearly alike. They could have been twins. In this man, Osu saw what he could have been. Someone his father would have loved. A merry boy quick to laugh, quick to love, quick to anger and to hate. He was like a summer storm, a breath of fresh air against the prince's calcifying heart. He loved that boy who gave him joy in his joyless existence.
Unbeknownst to him, his namesake was his brother. The Emperor's beloved bastard child. The child he wished for. The child who made him laugh and forget all the cares of his world.
What a summery heyday for all. The great Emperor had his wished upon child. Prince Osu had a beloved companion in his joy. And the beloved child Osu? He had his big dreams, to share his bright loving world for he was loved in abundance. He had a beloved father, mother and brother.
But such summery heyday cannot last. Emperor Keiko was beguiled by his beloved child's dreams. Such a thought came to him, 'surely my beloved child would make a better king. My current heir is a dour boy who would inspire nothing but fear.' So the foolish Emperor one day unveiled his boy with his gentle mother. He renamed his beloved son, Asura. The Prince, he renamed Indra. It threw the court in uproar. The vultures circled and the Empress in a fit of shame, threw herself from the highest tower.
Her shattered body, poor Indra found. He cradled it in his arms. Poor Asura who knew not the turmoil his father caused dreamed of seeing joy in his beloved brother's face; for the secrets had begun to weigh on merry Asura's mind.
The dam had broke. In a fit of rage, Indra challenged Asura to a duel. Naive Asura accepted thinking he could reason with his grief stricken brother. But Indra was beyond reason, having carried his mother's broken body through the halls. Her blood had left a trail, so bright, it could never be erased. Mighty Indra rained blow after blow at Asura, and sent him to his knees. When he was to struck the killing blow, Asura's mother intervened. She begged for her son's life. Offered her own in recompense. Blind to all but his grief, Indra accepted and ended the gentle lady's life.
Indra awoke at Asura's cries of grief. He saw what he had done, the folly of his passion. In his shame, he bared his neck to his brother.
"A life for a life, beloved brother. Perhaps its best you end this."
Asura raised his blade. He accepted, for he was a boy of quicksilver emotions. Easy in loving. Easy in hating. He thought of nothing but getting his vengeance.
The Emperor was a sly creature. He saw what his actions had done. He looked at his whispering court and thought to cement his beloved son as heir. He called for Indra's life to be left in his hands. In his heart, he nursed a wish for his son to soil his name. Wanted his son to suffer just as he had suffered for all his sins. So the Emperor banished Indra to the far reaches of the earth. Called it mercy, to toil and die at his pleasure.
Indra who would never know peace.
Indra who would die by his word.
Indra who took his punishment and vanished.
Indra who in the end would take the name Takeru.
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There are days when Kakashi wondered what he is fighting for, what he is living for. This was one of those days. Actually, he had never stopped feeling this way, especially when he found Naruto's genjutsu drugged form in the valley of the end. Sasuke lost to Orochimaru. Sometimes he thinks the Sandaima wanted to punish him. Cutting off the numbness only an ANBU would bring, giving him three little brats he would begun to care for, and he was bound to fail.
Perhaps this is penance, he thought. For sure this was penance, his mind insisted as he found himself staring at his missing student.
'Former student,' his mind corrected. 'Did you not failed him so badly? Did he not leave you?'
He cursed Tsunade for sending him in this god forsaken political mission. A messenger from the Fire Daimyo to the Wind Daimyo. A celebration of their burgeoning alliance. A subtle warning that a second invasion would not be tolerated. A unspoken threat that the Land of Fire would not allow their interests to be undermined. So here he found himself at the Daimyo' court, playing a good friend to people he knew or cared not about. This wasn't the worse though. This he could stand. What truly was hard to swallow was his undocumented mission, to gather information on Uchiha Sasuke and if deemed a threat, eliminate if possible.
Konoha asked much from its Shinobi. You would wonder what it gives in return.
It was a mission he did not want to accept. A mission he was bound to fail in, but he was given no choice. Kakashi had never believed in gods or fate, but at that moment he wished if they were truly watching that he would not see any hide or hair of Sasuke. Or if he did, the boy would simply be harmless, someone he can easily say he could leave alive.
But then, since when was fates kind to him?
"Kakashi," Sasuke acknowledged him. It was an unusual thing from the taciturn boy, but then what was usual in their meeting when here was Kakashi innocently stumbling on another failed assassination attempt. Not that there was anything innocent nor accidental in his choices.
Kakashi was greeted with scowls. The Daimyo guards have surrounded the would be assassin as well as situated themselves protectively around Sasuke. Sasuke who had experienced so many attempts to his life ever since Kakashi had a glimpse of him in court, that the palace guards have taken it as a personal insult. There had been too many, from traps to blades, and a poisoned drink that sent the court into a tizzy and the Daimyo cursing. Even Gaara, the Kazekage, had looked so grim at that attempt that Kakashi could not help but indulge his curiosity, leveraging on their relationship with Naruto to get answers. Gaara had simply replied, "it's the worse insult."
Kakashi had remembered watching Sasuke's increasingly detached reaction to each attempt. The supernaturally swift way he dealt with it. His supreme unconcern. Perhaps the only time he reacted differently was the poisoned drink. It wasn't even concern for himself, but the apology he gave to the Daimyo for the drink and the attempt to his life. It had gotten a wave of approval and such outpouring of support. All in all, Kakashi cursed his student for looking too competent too dangerous that Konoha in time would sure decide they would have to send their best to eliminate him.
"Messenger Kakashi," the chief guard spoke, bristling with suspicion. "May we request you leave so we can secure the Ambassador's safety."
Well now Kakashi knew how they viewed the whole situation. Certainly with the titles they gave the two of them.
"It's all right," Sasuke interjected. His gaze was on the rapidly darkening pool of water. Poisoned, most probably. Kakashi mourned at the waste of such a good bathing pool, especially in the god forsaken heat and dust of Wind's deserts.
Sasuke dismissed the concerns of the guards. Kakashi in a bid to make life easier tried to radiate all the innocence of a man who did nothing wrong and was simply minding his own business. Not that he really had anything to do with this attempt, but he was one of the supposed assassins sent to eliminate Uchiha Sasuke.
'Not that you're really going to do it,' he thought sourly, knowing full well this was one mission he would exercise all the discretion available to him. He would not kill his student, not when the only thing Sasuke was known to had really done was kill Orochimaru, a man Konoha had surely welcomed as dead. Who was he kidding though? Sasuke had become a thorn in The Land of Fire's interest. Discretely at first. When Orochimaru was alive, the ministers would chalk it up to the old Otokage. Such political acumen seemed peculiar but the enthronement of the new Rice Fields Daimyo gave such a perfect reason. Now with Orochimaru's death, there was no way to hide all that shifting alliances have been the handiwork of the young Uchiha.
"Just like that blasted Hikaku and Kenshin," Elder Homura would rail, remembering the past Uchiha heads that have slyly expanded the said clan's alliances, just as they expanded Konoha's.
The Land of Fire was agitated. Uchiha Sasuke had secretly turned the punishing tariffs the Land of Fire had laid against the Land of the Rice Fields and Wind. There had been talk that he is on his way in hammering a trade deal between those two nations with the Land of the Rivers as a byway. Other whispers of alliances he has been slowly forging with the other smaller nations have abounded. All the great Shinobi nations have been hearing those rumblings. The whole ruling class of the Land of Fire was in teeter hooks. There was an honest fear, Uchiha Sasuke would create the right ingredients for their influence to wane. And who would want that in their quest to rule the world?
"Do you still remember the Phoenix seal?"
It was a curious question by Sasuke. Out of tangent after all the convincing he did to drop the suspicion on Kakashi. But more so, Kakashi knew he never told the boy how that he knew the personal seal of the Uchiha. Their seal for prayer and blessing. Their entreaty to Suzaku to bless the dead and bring them peace. He had remember asking Uchiha Kouya the reason his clan would ask the Phoenix for a blessing, and not the holy gods that have shaped the earth.
"Because he guards over rebirth," Kakashi would always remember Kouya's gentle smile. The young priest of the Uchiha who had drifted past the world in a dream. "We Uchiha know that rebirth is a cursed thing, for instead of peace, you are once again brought back to all the folly and fury of life. But we are promised to it, so we ask Suzaku for a single moment our loved ones will have that peace."
"Yes," Kakashi replied cautiously.
"Good," Sasuke spoke as he gestured for Kakashi to unveil his Sharingan. "You might as well help me with purifying the water. We used to do this after the Katon."
"I remember," Kakashi grated. Oh how he remembered, as they both begun the shape the seals needed. He was nearly swamped with memories. Those days with Obito's eye newly grafted into him. The icy words spoken between the Uchiha as they debated his fate, words they never realised he heard.
"Fugaku," he remembered hearing that icy tone rusted with age. "When I gave him up to Konoha, you said he would be safe. Liar. He's gone and I have nothing. Let that boy rot!"
Kakashi would remember Uchiha Fugaku turning his intense gaze at him. "Answer me boy," Wicked eye Fugaku would demand of him. The man who could parse truth and falsehood at a single glance. "What does the Sharingan mean?"
"It's Obito's gift," he would reply.
"Not what it means to you. What does it mean?"
"It's Obito's dying gift!" He would insist shouting, too weary and heartsick to understand what was going on.
This answer would give him Fugaku's equally weary gaze as the man would tell him, "A Sharingan means knowing loss and the inevitability of it."
This is one of the few scraps of knowledge the Uchiha would impart to him. Another was the Phoenix seal and its derivatives under Uchiha Kouya's careful eye. The seal that invokes Suzaku's blessing and the purifying heat of his fire.
"Phoenix seal to finish," they would both murmur much to Kakashi's surprise. He would meet Sasuke's eyes as the boy would shrug, saying, "Kouya taught me too."
Such a simple statement with so much layers of meaning.
They were now left alone. Their actions in purifying the water had allowed the guards to loose their wariness of Kakashi. Awed and thankful, they had easily left the two former teacher-student pair together. Water was sacred to those who live in the desert. Kakashi now realised how ignorant he must have looked asking Gaara about the poisoned drink. It was such a simple thing, that Konoha's intelligence division never really delved into. How many missions could have been easier with such a simple information?
"Water so important to them isn't it?"
"Yes."
"Why are you helping me?"
"Because I have questions."
The world darkened. Kakashi had been snagged into a genjutsu. He did not panic. He could sense no malice, no killing intent. In fact, the only thing he could sense was an intense grief, hidden and unwillingly released. Slowly, shapes begun to form. Sasuke was a figure staring at a distance.
"Who allowed this?" Sasuke spoke just as the darkness cleared and Kakashi could see the horrors in all its glory. A shelf full of Uchiha eyes, Sharingan red, and the mutilated body of Uchiha Kouya.
Uchiha Kouya his teacher. The one who floated in the world like dandelion fluff, a description the old Uchiha priest Genji would say to Kakashi when the old man would acknowledge his presence. Uchiha Kouya who's body Kakashi found as they cleaned up the signs of the massacre. Throat cut with his face replete with grief.
"I found this in Orochimaru's lab. His body should have been burned. Who was in charge of my clan's rites?"
Kakashi could not answer.
"Are they the same people who are selling my clan's bodies like cattle? Or does this mean Orochimaru has Konoha's blessing?"
What could Kakashi say. There was a rot in Konoha. How deep it ran, how many it twisted, he could not say. The only thing he knew were whispers and even these whispers were uncertain. The only thing he knew was that it was too dangerous and fragile.
"Sasuke," he cautioned. There were so many things he could not say. Many things he wanted to speak of and many that he would rather take to the grave than speak of.
Sasuke looked unbothered by his reticence. "No matter," he assures Kakashi. "There is little you can hide in the mind if you know were to look."
With these words, Kakashi could feel the grip of the illusion fading.
"Take care Sensei," Sasuke spoke as he faded as well. "There are so little body parts left."
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Let us speak of the great grand Emperor known as Keiko. The last who sat on the Imperial throne. He was a great man who drove the land to the peak of prosperity. He was a terrible man who tore the land asunder in his blind hatred for his son. He was a tragic figure forced to kill his mother to ascend the golden throne.
Such ghastly deeds leave a mark. Whether or not it was for good or ill, the blood of your mother spilled cannot be erased.
So Keiko sat on his weary throne, hurting and haunted, until he began to hate his very blood. His wife, he shunned. His son, he despised. He pinned all his hopes on his bastard child. A child he believed unstained with the guilt of blood.
The Emperor wished to rid himself of his guilt. In his desire, he struck off his line and declared a new one born. The Prince, he exiled. His merry child, he called heir. And he called himself a sage. A sage by the name, Hagoromo.
Wise sage he may be, but Hagoromo forgot that men have their own minds. Some men followed their liege, others refused his will and searched for the Prince, while the rest saw their chance to sit upon the golden throne. The land was then split asunder, by the great and terrible Hagoromo.
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Itachi soundlessly stepped into the hall of the old Uchiha hideout. Perhaps before he would have wanted to study this place, built by his ancestors and long abandoned by his clan. A structure so old and weary as the people who built it. Now, he had no time for this. No inclination to explore. He only had his eyes on his brother. His younger brother who did not acknowledge his presence too deep in contemplation with who knows what.
Itachi studied Sasuke. He could not help but feel a sense of trepidation. Where was the little brother who followed him everywhere?
'Dead,' Itachi thought bitterly. 'I made sure he was dead'.
But he wondered, where was the boy he pushed past the breaking point? The boy that was all sound and fury, where was he now?
It had gone round and round his head. What he had heard about Sasuke had shaken him.
'A ghost,' people would describe him.
'A spectre of the past,' the old Shinobi clans would say with pursed lips.
'Judgement,' the lords would shudder.
Sasuke had become a contradiction in their world. His little brother had become a large looming presence. The reach he had amassed had stretched far and wide from the smallest of nations to the mightiest have felt the hooks of his tendrils. The lords would whisper how the current alliance between the smaller nations have been forged by Sasuke's ghostly hand. For sure, everyone knew the triple alliance between the Land of the Wind, of the Rivers, and of the Rice Fields was formed by the same man. The newly reorganised Hidden Sound has all the hallmarks of Sasuke's meddling. Even when he never claimed the seat as the new Otokage, Orochimaru's death by his own hand sealed his influence in the hidden village. It was even said that he stole the sacred mirror the Land of Lighting treasured. Yet for all of Sasuke's activities, he barely seemed to appear at anyone's sights until the deed was done. He was a will of a wisp. His presence barely seemed to touch anything. He couldn't even seemed to be found. Once he had eliminated Orochimaru, Sasuke Uchiha was said to disappear. A hawk had come and swept him away. It was the same story the Land of Lighting would say about the theft. Sasuke Uchiha came and was just simply gone.
Looking at his little brother, Itachi could see why he was called a spectre of the past. Sasuke looked like one of those faded portraits of the nobles of old in their travels. The traditional veiled hat, the uchikatsugi, hiding his form in a screen of white, while an iron fan, mostly probably a tessen, lay at his hand as he absently scratched it through the table.
"Have you looked your fill?" Sasuke voice rang in the still air as he turned to face Itachi. A lone black eye peered past the white fabric, arch and almost daring. " What judgement will you render this time, brother?"
Itachi's eyes narrowed. "I never rendered you judgement."
"I think I remember differently. Your Tsukiyomi told me otherwise."
Itachi bit back a retort. It stung to have all your efforts dismissed as the ramblings of a power hungry madman, even if he encouraged it. He knew that was what he worked for, his little brother confident and strong in the bowers of Konoha. Sasuke would become a loyal Shinobi of the leaf, a credit to the village.
Itachi easily caught Sasuke in the illusion of the Tsukiyomi. He felt relieved. Whatever changes he saw in Sasuke, they offered no extra strength or skill against him. This would be a simple fight. His final plan would easily come into fruition, and then he can have his peace.
Itachi watched absently as Sasuke and he traded blows in this false world. His illusory self started to plant seeds against the Akatsuki and Madara, as he admitted the one truth he could honestly say. Madara Uchiha, another bearer of the Mangekyou, was his collaborator in the massacre of the clan. The Mangekyou, a powerful tool, that gave you the ability to control the tailed beast. A double edged sword as it lead to blindness.
"You are alive because I have need of your eyes," Itachi spoke, weaving his lies amidst the truth. A pang of grief ran through him as he viewed his little brother's face contorted in terror and rage. So his illusion stated he won, his clone had pinned in brother with his eyes ripe of the taking. He touched a cheek and then the socket. He steeled himself, dug deep against the screams and continued speaking, "in order to stop the blindness, I have to take your Mangekyou. That is why you had to grow stronger, so I can take yours for myself."
"I wonder who told you that?"
A voice suddenly whispered behind him. Itachi whirled.
"It can't be," he murmured in shock. Sasuke Uchiha stood in front of him while the tableau of his own murder at Itachi's hand played between them.
"What do you mean by that?" Sasuke queried with a curious tilt in his head. "That I knew that this was a genjutsu? That I can get around it? Or that I dare ask you what you know is true?"
"This doesn't matter," Itachi spoke with grim determination. The questions flummoxed him, but he didn't have time. He knew he was dying. He had to secure Sasuke's future. Itachi dispelled the illusion. He charged at Sasuke, crying out, "I will made my dream a reality, your eyes are mine."
Sasuke simply smiled. He made no move to dodge or defend himself. He still casually wore his uchikatsugi, unbothered by the stifling veil. "If you truly wanted the eternal Mangekyo, you could have taken father's."
Itachi froze. He could not speak. He was left gaping at his brother.
"Surprised I knew? Just I knew you were ordered to by Konoha."
"How?" Itachi gasped out. He felt he was loosing strength, all his plans were being crushed.
Sasuke released a deep, almost pitying sigh. He slowly removed his hat, letting the silence draw out before he replied, "does it matter?" He fully turned to face Itachi, bereft of the barriers that shielded them from each other. "What really matters to me is if you had any, even just a minuscule doubt on the rightness of your cause?"
"If you knew," Itachi spat out, angry. It was a curious feeling, he hadn't felt this intense emotion for so long. It felt he was back again speaking to his bull-headed arrogant clan. He hated them. Hated how they can never throw their pride away, think beyond the clan and find find fulfilment in the village and its people. "Then you know it was our pride that ended us. We exist because of Konoha and the ideals of the will of fire. Konoha protects us, loves us, so we should think beyond the clan, and love and protect Konoha as well."
"We made the village in order to protect," Sasuke replied, almost agreeably. There was a strange cadence to his tone. He almost felt like a different person. "If it no longer protects and harms instead. If it must be protected but does not protect, is it still worth it?"
Itachi could only stare aghast. He could not speak. The words were too cruel. He did not want to listen.
"Tell me older brother, how many clans have been lost by Konoha and its carelessness? The snake clan? The Namikaze clan? The Hatake? Uchiha?"
"Does it matter!" Itachi screamed at his wits end. His world was shattering. All his hopes, all his dreams, all his sacrifices, would be for naught. He refused to let it be so. "If you just gave Konoha what it wanted we wouldn't be here!"
His voice echoed in the hall. He realised he was panting, at his knees. The floor was dusty and cold, he could feel his eyes burning.
"Konoha did get what they wanted," Sasuke chided ever so gently, ever so brutally. "Why do you think everyone was there waiting to die? If we were so prideful, why do you think we endured? We could have easily left." Sasuke shook his head. He bought his arms out wide. "This fortress is not even in the Land of Fire. How many fortresses found in other lands have the symbol of the Uchiha carved into its walls, singing with our chakra? Multitudes."
No, Itachi could not accept this truth. This was not so. He was not young anymore. Not a naive fool like his little brother. Surely he did not dream of the those days all he heard from his cousins was for the good of the Uchiha. Or the way they look warily at outsiders. The way the whole village would mock them for their aloofness. The way father refused to consider the third hokage's plea to stand down, consumed by the curse of hatred.
"You keep saying how great the Uchiha Clan is," Itachi riposted. "But look around us foolish little brother, the Uchiha was nothing but a fading clan deluded by the thought of our own greatness. We are nothing without everyone. But we never realised it and just let ourselves be defined by the curse of hatred."
Sasuke laughed. The sound cut through the air in a jarring note. It was not a joyful sound. It was mournful. It was regretful. "I'm sorry my boy," he spoke so different yet so familiar that Itachi was rooted at the spot. It was like an impossible dream to hear such a cadence, so much so that when Sasuke neared him to grasp his shoulders, he could not react. To him, it felt as if Fugaku Uchiha was here with him, asking for forgiveness, something he always longed for. An apology from his father for giving him such a burden. "So sorry," Itachi continued to hear Sasuke as Fugaku speak. "We wanted to find peace, wanted to be accepted so much that we sacrificed you and Shisui. We sacrificed so many of our youth. In the end, it was all for naught. We ruined you and all of us..."
Itachi watched in confusion as his little brother's features twisted to an unfamiliar expression. It was as if he was another person altogether. "Or maybe the Senju were right," Sasuke spoke in a strange self-deprecating mien. "We are cursed, just not the way they dreamed we were."
"What do you mean?"
"Tobirama thought we were power hungry madmen waiting to be released by despair," Sasuke spoke with a sneer. "He is right on only one thing. We are cursed to know despair...and with it, loss and betrayal."
Itachi watched in horror as Sasuke's eyes swirled into a complex pattern of pinwheels. It couldn't be denied, it was no ordinary Mangekyo. The pattern, too complex. It could only be a Eternal Mangekyo Sharingan. He broke away from the grip on his shoulders. He didn't know what to think as Sasuke murmured, his tone once again so different, "Father cursed us to suffer and die with the Mangekyou. And Asura, cursed us to suffer forevermore with the Eternal Mangekyou."
"Who are you?" He demanded as he released the great fireball. It mattered little as the flames were swiftly extinguished with a sweep of the unfurled war fan. "What do you know?"
"Did you really believe an outsider with our clan's history?" Sasuke spoke, harking back to the sneering persona. He stared at Itachi with an almost mocking tilt in his head. "If all it took was to take another Mangekyou in order to achieve the Eternal Mangekyou, Izuna and I would have simply traded eyes on the onset. It is a curse, created by an act of betrayal so deep. You are betrayed by the one you loved the most."
"And who betrayed you?"
"You."
Suddenly, the whole grand hall disappeared. Itachi cursed. He realised his brother had fooled him with the same trick he initially used. When he saw the Eternal Mangekyou, that was when he fell into the trap.
"I never betrayed you," Itachi entreated in the dark. "I loved you. I begged so that you should live."
"Is this love? When you tortured and manipulated me, so that I will give you peace," Sasuke's voice echoed in the darkness. Slowly, it began to take shape. The deep nothingness pulled back to reveal two rooms. The burning pain Itachi had been feeling in his eyes burst into a conflagration at the sight, whilst Sasuke's voice continued to ring like an unrelenting hammer, "Is this love? When you have no idea what my dreams and wishes are. When all you did was plan that I will continue to serve your beloved Konoha." They were rooms filled with the Sharingan red eyeballs, and one had the mutilated body of Uchiha Kouya and another, the mutilated body of Uchiha Fugaku.
"I found Kouya in Orochimaru's secret lab," Sasuke explained bitterly. "Father was in another lab in the Land of Lighting where they were trying to get the Yata no Kagami to respond. I took the mirror from them. Everything I burned to the ground.
He did not respond. He could not, swept by his oh so bitter memories that he had always sought to ignore. He would remember Kouya gazing at him sadly, speaking, "Make it quick."
He would remember Uchiha Fugaku simply telling him, "my boys." Right before he closed his eyes at the onrushing blade.
Uchiha Itachi found himself staring at his image, reflected in the clear smooth surface of the Yata mirror Sasuke cradled in his arms. It was the true mirror, not the spectral copy his Susanoo wielded. Even if he's never seen it, it called him and made itself known. He could feel it at the marrow of his bones, just as any Uchiha would in the presence of one of the imperial treasures. He does not know why. He simply knew. And at the mirror's reflection, Itachi eyes were Sharingan red, spinning in the now complex pattern of the Eternal Mangekyou.
"You see brother," Sasuke continued in a whisper soft voice. "You don't love me. I had an inkling when you did not let me die. But I became certain you never did, because all this time, all you can think of was Konoha."
The illusion then began to crack, then shattered to a thousand pieces.
Itachi awoke, warmth suffused him. It chased away the chill in his bones. It gave him the energy he had been rapidly loosing ever since he found out about his illness. He gasped out loud, realising he was held by chakra imbued hands. His vision cleared. He found himself staring at his brother's tearful eyes. They were so close to each other, their noses were nearly touching. Sasuke continued to speak. It was as if the genjustu and reality were one and the same. "Isn't hope the worse? It forces us to endure, but it will inevitably disappoint. I had hoped, but here we are. Just as you hoped to die, I will disappoint you."
Itachi tried to struggle, but it was too late. The chakra that infused into his body had done its job. He had so wished to die, he had forced his body to the breaking point. Bled his chakra to nothing until he was nothing more than a ticking bomb ready to end. But this cleansing chakra invigorated him. It soothed and stayed in his body. It almost had a mind of its own, a desperate will to live. Sasuke's Mangekyou swirled and caught him still.
"You will scrabble to live," Sasuke intoned. "I will not allow you to self destruct. I will not give you what you wished, for I am not kind."
The new chakra that coursed though his veins giving him strength. He stared at his brother in disbelief. What Sasuke did was impossible for he was not a healer.
"How?"
"I gave you Orochimaru."
Itachi gave a yell of denial. With all his newfound strength he lashed out. To his horror, his hand met flesh, muscle and sinew. Warm coppery blood trickled at his fingers. His little brother gave him a small knowing bloody little smile before he pushed himself away into a heap. Itachi could not follow. He could only stare at his crimson coated hand, stunned.
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Come children and remember that things happen in threes.
The Sharingan was a blessing from gods. Red-eyed Osu received three gifts: the past-remembrance, the present-truth from lies, and the future-the power to see possibilities.
The Mangekyou was the Emperor's curse to his re-named son, Indra. He sent the exiled prince to be beleaguered by a unnamed hoard, to wander and slowly loose hope until all he had was darkness and despair. Red-eyed Osu was no more, instead there was only wild-eyed Indra. But the gods refused to let such a thing pass. They remembered the boy who they blessed, the deeds he accomplished. The oncoming storm, enemies would whisper. The arm of justice, his people would bow.
So when the hoard came, the gods brought out such a show of force the earth trembled. Susanoo, the god of storms, clad him in his godly power and shielded him from all who wished him harm. The sun goddess, Amaterasu, sent such a strong flame that all were turned to ash. Tsukiyomi, the moon god, cloaked the world in such a strong illusion that Indra could never be found. The three gods decreed that all who harm the exiled prince will feel their wrath.
The gods's defence reached the ear of the Emperor and it brought fear into his heart. The emperor would remember his power mad mother. He would think of his brother. He would see all the blood he had spilled in his cursed hands. The Emperor could see himself in Indra. He could feel their accursed blood flowing in both their veins. Their unquencheable thirst for power.
The Emperor would clutch his beloved son close. He would whisper all his fears. Asura would listen to all his father's ramblings, until it was all he believed. So when Asura and Indra met once more, Asura greeted him with a vow. A vow that he will fight Indra forevermore for every cycle of their rebirth. Instead of the peace Indra sought, all he had left was an eternal fight he never sought
This was the second curse. A curse bought about by Indra's beloved brother, Asura. Such is his fate to be betrayed by all he loved. Indra wept and in the depths of his shattered heart, the wild-eyed boy was no more. The storm-eyed boy was born, and he took the name Takeru.
And what is the third curse you say? Well the story hasn't ended. Although three names have been spoken, only two curses have been given. But let me tell you the third curse has a name.
What is it's name?
Rinnegan.
And what is it's curse?
The end of all hope.
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FIN.
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End Notes: I'm sure your all wondering how this came about. To be honest, I had the inspiration of linking the Uchiha to the Imperial line because they are in your face linked in Naruto. Just think about it, all unique things associated with the Uchiha are traced to gods and kings. I mean, Susanoo, Amaterasu, Tsukoyomi, Kotoamatsukami, they are all major shinto gods. Itachi's Yata mirror, Sasuke's Kusanagi, Shisui's green gem in his Susanoo, they are the Imperial regalia of Japan. Indra is king of the gods (God of storms / lightning. Think of him as the Hindu's version of Odin or Zeus) in Hindu mythology. Garuda is king of the birds in Hindu as well. Kirin is associated with the birth of a sage and...the divine right of kings. So I ran with this idea and everything I just kept adding. Like basing Asura's personality with his Hindu myth counterpart. Or incorporating Osu, who was Kusanagi's most famous owner in the story
In fact Emperor Keiko and the 2 Osu's, is part of Japanese mythology. There are of course a number of changes and embellishments. But at the core is the myth, the story of Emperor Keiko banishing his son Osu / Takeru and wanting his death.
In fact, I used this "lens" to explain the history of Naruto or at least to twist their history and explain their current events. I experimented with jumping back and forth, though I tried to give the past and the present distinct voices. I'm not sure how effective this was, so I am curious what everyone thought.
Anyhow, thank you for reading. And comments plus critiques are greatly appreciated.