Chapter 8: Goodbye
…
"Pneumonia again?"
I looked up from my notes to see Itachi standing in the hospital room door. He was still in full ANBU garb, but without the mask or sword. Weapons weren't allowed in the hospital. With so many shinobi in vulnerable states, it made everyone feel better to leave them at the door.
Not that Itachi needed a sword to kill someone.
"Yeah, I picked it up from one of the patients at the clinic," I said. "Kaa-chan thinks that I shouldn't be working around sick people, only injured people. That way I'd get sick less. But Tou-chan said that my training is important for the clan."
If they really wanted to go through with the coup, they needed trained medics in case things went wrong. It was probably the same reason Asumi-Obaa-chan was still practicing when she should have retired ten years ago. Everything was for the clan.
"I see," said Itachi, approaching my bed and taking a seat. "How are you feeling?"
"I've learned a neat healing trick," I said with a grin. "If I run healing chakra through my body, it can mask symptoms of illness. So right now I feel fine, but I'm still technically sick and need to be monitored. I've been practicing a lot of medical ninjutsu. And other things."
I shuffled my notes and set them aside. I had to make room on the bedside table, which was filled with an assortment of reflex toys provided by Shisui. He'd offered them as a trade to keep me entertained after I'd held him hostage for nine hours during my last hospital stay. I was getting pretty good at them, too. They kept me busy when I grew too tired to focus on reading, and even Shisui was impressed by my reaction times. If I was very, very focused, I could track Shisui's base speed with my eyes, which, according to him, was a pretty significant accomplishment for an Academy student.
"I'm glad to see you're keeping busy," said Itachi, his eyes sweeping over the many scrolls and toys. "Is there anything else you need? Anything I can bring you?"
"Just you," I said. "Books are nice, but visitors are better. It's a little lonely sometimes."
Mikoto and Sasuke came to visit me yesterday afternoon to deliver a box of get-well senbei rice crackers, and they'd probably drop by again in another day or two. I hadn't seen Fugaku since being admitted almost a week ago. I couldn't fault them for it. Hospital visits were just a fact of life now. I couldn't expect them all to visit every day, and I had plenty of books to keep me occupied.
This was just normal.
Nothing to fuss over.
Routine.
"I'll see what I can do," said Itachi, which wasn't much of a promise. I couldn't exactly hold it against him either. He had his work with ANBU and his obligations to the clan, both of which took priority over social calls. "How have things been at the Academy?"
"Better," I said.
I'd seen the genin at the police station.
The day after the incident, I'd gone to deliver Fugaku's forgotten lunch. The genin was in general intake with his hands tied behind his back. He was in tears as Yashiro berated him while brandishing the genin's sash of trophies. Yashiro was shouting that the genin would be stripped of his rank and would be tried for assaulting civilians and bringing disgrace to Konoha.
The genin had caught my eye and flinched. From his obvious fear, I thought that Itachi might have paid him an extra visit. The genin didn't look injured, but as the chunin exams had proven, Itachi's most horrific attacks left the body untouched.
I didn't want to think about it.
"Oh, I wanted to ask you something," I said suddenly, turning to the bedside table and shuffling around for a book.
I stopped when I heard a pair of voices from outside my room.
"The Uchiha is back again?" someone asked. After a moment, I recognized the chakra. It was Himari, one of the nurses who worked in this ward.
Itachi turned, frowning at the still-open door.
"Keep your voice down, and yes, she has pneumonia," said another nurse, Hina.
Himari heaved a sigh. When she spoke again, she bit out each word in obvious frustration.
"I have twelve patients in critical condition," she snapped. "I don't have time to babysit a high-maintenance clan heir just because she has a cold for the fifth time this month. The staff shortage is bad enough already. And I don't need to deal with the constant demands from her father." She paused, and when she spoke again, it was in a higher pitch with false cheer. "Private room? Of course! We can't have an Uchiha mixing with common rabble! Catered food? Certainly! We can't have an Uchiha eating plain old hospital food. Triple checkups? Naturally! We can't have an Uchiha with a cough take a lower priority than our dying patients. Only the best for an Uchiha."
I flinched at the vitriol she laced into my clan name.
I hadn't even realized that I was getting such special treatment, although now that I thought about it, private rooms and delicious food weren't exactly normal for public hospitals. And the nurses did seem to come around quite frequently…
I wilted, sinking back into the pillows and drawing my blankets up to my chin. Himari was right. The hospital was overburdened. The Uchiha clinic was supposed to be primarily for the police force, but they'd been getting hospital overflow patients for months now due to the hospital being short-staffed. And here I was taking up an entire room not to mention the nurse's time and attention when they were obviously needed elsewhere.
"Please keep your voice down," Hina hissed. "Fugaku-sama has been very generous to the hospital. Besides, she's only a child, and she has a weak immune system."
Itachi stood up and approached the door.
"What she has is an egotistical clan," Himari shot back. "Especially 'Fugaku-sama'. Nothing is too good for his little princess. The Uchiha are all so arrogant. I can't stand—"
Itachi stepped out from the sliding door, and Himari's voice cut off abruptly. Itachi said something too quiet for me to hear, and Himari and Hina's chakra retreated hastily. Itachi waited until they were far down the hall before sliding the door closed with a click.
Then he returned to his chair.
"Sorry," I said, though I couldn't quite say what I was apologizing for.
"You wanted to ask me something?" he prompted.
I hesitated.
High-maintenance…
"It's nothing," I mumbled. I already received so much special treatment. It was selfish to ask for more. "Sorry…"
I pulled the sheets fully over my head.
And Itachi gently pulled them back down.
"Tell me," he said, soft and patient.
"Well…" I muttered, recognizing a losing battle when I heard one. I turned to the bedside table and picked up one of my books, a Konoha travel guide. I flipped to the section on Konoha beaches and showed him one with pristine white sand and sky blue water. "Have you ever been here?"
He squinted at it and shook his head.
"Not to that beach, but I did see the ocean once," he said. Itachi closed his eyes briefly, and molded his chakra. When he opened them again, we were standing on a rocky outcropping with a vast sea beyond. The sky was overcast, and the air tasted like salt. I'd seen the ocean before in my previous life, but this wasn't a sandy tourist beach. It was a storm-swept landscape of jagged rocks and violent, crashing waves.
"Wow, it's so big," I said.
I carefully made my way down to the water and slipped off my shoes. The water was cold but not freezing. The sea-foam lapped at my heels as I splashed around in the surf and hunted for sea shells.
Itachi smiled as he sat down by a campfire on the rocks and watched me play. When I grew tired, I came to sit with him. It wasn't really fair that I could get tired in the illusion, as my real body had never moved from the hospital bed, but genjutsu was funny like that. If the illusion felt real, the body made it real.
"Watch this," I said. I concentrated on Itachi's chakra in my mind, and I tweaked it ever so slightly. A stick skewered with marshmallows appeared in my hand. "It worked!"
Itachi huffed a laugh.
"You've been studying," he said, producing his own marshmallow skewer and heating it over the fire.
"Well, I can't create big illusions like yours," I admitted. "Just little ones like this. They're easier for me to picture. And I've been working on it for months so..."
"So you should be able to do at least this much, right?" he asked.
I nodded. If anything my progress was a little lack-luster. I was happier with my progress in medicine while I was equally embarrassed by my lack of progress in sealing.
"And I can't get the taste right," I said, biting into a marshmallow and scowling. Itachi handed me his skewer, and I took another bite. Yep, that was marshmallow alright. I felt the way his chakra moved to create the sensation until I was sure I could replicate it. "Okay, now what about dango?"
…
There were signs of tension growing around the clan. It had always been there, like lava bubbling beneath a crust of hardened stone, but now it was starting to peek through the cracks. Most of the clan huddled together, whispering and talking darkly, their words cutting off abruptly if I or any of the other children strayed too near.
Asumi-Obaa-chan scheduled me to take the field medic exam, which would clear me for providing emergency medical response treatment to others. It was extremely unusual to give this to an Academy student, but I could see the tightness in her shoulders and the worry in her pursed lips. If the coup was in motion and things went badly, they'd need as many medics on hand as possible, even half-trained ones like me.
I passed with a perfect score, which cleared me to perform standard field medicine on other people. I received a shiny certificate with my name written in pretty golden ink. As I looked at it, I couldn't help but feel a little sad. I'd spent years working toward mastering these techniques, and here was proof that I'd done my job well.
But it was pointless.
Everything would be pointless in the end.
My evening internship work at the trauma center was brought to an end, as I was now certified and therefore not expected to wash glassware and change sheets. Instead I was given an hour of low-level rounds after school three days a week, making me the youngest field-medic the clinic had ever employed. My hours were still limited, however, to account for my time at the Academy, training, and the homework I was expected to do. I also received yet another staggering pile of study books in preparation for the full medic exam I would never take. I flipped through the titles and summaries, unenthused as I realized that there simply wouldn't be enough time to read them let alone learn from them before the end.
At the Academy, the teachers finally handed out the grades for the first half of the year. I scanned down the list. Because this was the Academy, the scores were for Ninjutsu, Genjutsu, Taijutsu, Teamwork, and Individual.
Unsurprisingly, Sasuke took first in all subjects. In theory I should have had an edge in ninjutsu and genjutsu. I knew actual techniques while Sasuke still only knew the theory. But my inordinate number of sick days counted against me. Make up tests could be given after class, but participation points could not. I still managed to score second place in Ninjutsu and Genjutsu. My Individual and Teamwork grades were high middle. And the less said about my Taijutsu score, the better.
Sasuke grinned as he scanned his report card. All his hard work had finally paid off.
Fugaku would surely be proud of him now.
"Continue at this pace and become fine ninja like your brother," said Fugaku on reading the report cards. Sasuke's tentative smile faded. We waited a beat, but Fugaku merely stood up and turned to walk away.
"Nii-chan did an amazing job, though, didn't he, Tou-chan?" I asked, a little desperately. "He worked so hard and all of our teachers talk about how impressive his shuriken jutsu and taijutsu are. And he's gotten first place in all of his subjects."
Fugaku paused.
"I think you're going a little overboard with the praise," he said.
Sasuke flinched, and Fugaku closed the door behind him, leaving us with a pair of neatly folded report cards on the floor.
…
If Itachi wasn't on a mission, he was training. Sometimes he would be out late enough that Sasuke and I went looking for him. On one such evening, we found him standing with Shisui on a cliff overlooking waterfalls on the Naka River. It was a good place to have a conversation, the noise of the waterfalls obscuring softly-spoken words without it looking as deliberate as a sound-nullifying jutsu.
Sasuke called out on seeing them and ran over.
"Nii-san! Hey, Nii-san!"
I trailed after, a little slower than Sasuke as Itachi asked us what we were doing out here.
"We—," I began, but Sasuke cut me off.
"Hey, what were you two talking about anyway?" he asked, apparently noting the slight distress on Itachi's face. I had a feeling I knew what was wrong. "C'mon, tell me. Tell me. Tell me."
Itachi only smiled faintly.
"You're still too young to know about that," he said.
"Aw, what's that about?" Sasuke pouted. "What? I'm not part of the group now?"
When it came to talking about the coup, no he wasn't. He never had been. Itachi poked his forehead and told him, "Sorry, Sasuke. Next time." Sasuke only pouted more, which made Shisui huff a quiet laugh. Thankfully, Shisui deflected by saying that they were trying to decide who was stronger.
"You know the truth, don't you Sasuke?" Shisui asked. "That I'm stronger than him?"
It was a good act. Sasuke fell for it completely.
"My brother won't lose to you, Shisui!" said Sasuke, all confidence. He turned to Itachi. "Isn't that right, Nii-san?"
"Shisui…you…" said Itachi. He knew what Shisui was doing. Itachi had doubts about their ability to stop the coup. He knew exactly how badly their plans could go and what the cost would be. But they were strong, really, really strong. Itachi and Shisui were both Kage-level ninja along with Fugaku. The only other Kage-level ninjas were the Third Hokage and Danzo. And even Danzo was only able to win against Shisui because of dirty tricks. If Shisui had gone into the fight with the intent to kill, he would have lived.
And then what would have happened?
I couldn't do anything.
I couldn't change anything.
I couldn't save anyone.
And yet…
"There's only one way to settle this," I said seriously. "Shuriken jutsu competition. Nii-chan, could you get the targets please while we work out the rules?"
"Yeah!" said Sasuke, and he was off to get them from the trees in the nearby training field. I watched him go, waiting until he was well out of earshot.
"You're really bad at that," I told Itachi. "Shisui-nii-san is much better at lying. If you're in ANBU, you should be better at it."
"You don't believe me?" Shisui asked, raising his hand to his heart, stricken. It really was a good act, marred only by the playful light in his eyes.
I wanted to play along, to stick out my tongue like a child and make bold claims that no one could fool me. I wanted to make him smile and laugh or maybe ruffle my hair at catching him in his game. I liked Shisui. He was sweet and patient and looked after Itachi in ways I could not. He didn't deserve what happened to him…what would happen to him. People in this world rarely did.
This was the last time I would speak to him, and that thought alone killed any sense of levity. Shisui and Itachi caught my mood as I looked to my brother.
"I know why you've been sad," I said quietly, and Itachi's eyes sharpened. "Something bad is going to happen between the village and the clan, isn't it? That's why everyone is so worried and angry. That's why we've been getting more weapons from Nekobaa these past few years. That's why Asumi-Obaa-chan and Tou-chan want me to study medicine. Right?"
"You noticed all of that, did you?" asked Shisui, his expression wry. It wasn't confirmation or denial, but I didn't exactly need either. I knew. Shisui knelt beside me and pulled me close. "Look, nothing bad will happen. Itachi and I will make sure of it. So there's no need to be scared."
"But you and Onii-chan and Tou-chan are the most powerful people in the clan," I said. "If the village knows, they'll want to make it so that you can't fight. They'll hurt you."
They'll kill you.
"Don't you have any faith in us?" Shisui asked, still playful but with a hint of seriousness too.
I knew what would happen.
I knew.
"You don't want to hurt anyone," I said, looking between them both. "If you don't want to hurt them, and if they want to hurt you, you'll….you'll…"
You'll die.
Shisui heaved a big sigh. He wasn't listening.
"We could leave!" I said, panic creeping into my voice. "We could go away. We don't have to fight. We could just go and…and…"
"Kiyo-chan," said Itachi. He hesitated and looked away. "We have nowhere else to go."
This wasn't the Warring States period where nomadic ninja clans could simply pack up and move to better, safer locations. Maps were drawn. Villages were established. The Uchiha clan had been a mighty force in its prime, but against an entire hidden village, it was nothing. Itachi, Shisui, and Fugaku were not the standard. They were the rare geniuses. Most were like Mikoto, who hadn't taken a mission in 15 years, like Asumi-Obaa-chan who had never been a fighter, or like Fumiko who had been injured and could no longer fight.
No, we had nowhere to go. Another village might be willing to take in a few members with the promise of our bloodline, but no one would accept an entire clan that had betrayed their home village. No one would trust us, and any situation we came into would be exponentially worse than the one we'd left.
Konoha was the hill we would have to die on.
Something of my thoughts must have shown on my face because Shisui pulled me into a hug.
"I don't want you to die," I said into his chest.
"I won't," he promised.
Liar.
He was too gentle, too kind.
I wanted to protest, to fight. But then Sasuke returned with the targets, and Shisui stood a little straighter.
"Well, after much debate, I have to concede that Itachi is definitely stronger," said Shisui with a fixed smile.
"Aww…" Sasuke moaned, having been robbed of a chance to see Itachi and Shisui in action. He protested, but Shisui laughed, throwing his hands up in faux defeat. Itachi only said that it was time to go home.
Itachi took Sasuke and me by the hand and led us back to the main compound. I looked back in time to see Shisui staring at us with a contemplative expression, his mouth set in a determined line, and his eyes Sharingan red, etching this moment into his mind for the remainder of his life.
"Goodbye, Shisui-Nii-san," I said.
It was goodbye for the last time.
The next morning, Shisui's body was found in the river, apparently from suicide, and Itachi was immediately a suspect. I wasn't home when the police came to investigate, but Sasuke told me about it later in hushed, worried tones. I couldn't recall Itachi ever striking anyone in anger before, at least not while at home. In fact, aside from the confrontation with the genin who had hurt me, I couldn't recall ever seeing him truly angry at all.
Frustrated? Occasionally.
Annoyed? Sure.
Furious enough to attack members of our family? Never.
I found him sitting on the veranda staring off into space. His sword was propped on the railing beside him within easy reach should he need it. I hesitated for only a moment before padding over and sitting at his side. He didn't react, didn't look up or acknowledge me in any way. I slipped my arm around him in a hug, but his body was as stiff as stone, and he did not allow me to wiggle under his arm as I'd done so many times before. Instead, I settled for resting my cheek on his bicep.
He didn't cry this time, but I didn't really expect him to.
"Whatever you feel, whatever you're going through, I'm here," I said, holding him tighter. "Even if you feel like you can't talk about it, I'm still here."
He did not react.
With Shisui's death, could he see the truth?
With his Mangekyou Sharingan, could he finally see what he would be forced to do?
"It wasn't your fault," I said. He flinched, just a small movement, something I would not have felt if I didn't have my arms wrapped around him. It wasn't his fault. He hadn't known. Shisui was so strong. He couldn't have known.
But I did.
I'd known.
And I'd done nothing.
"But you're still here," I said. For now. But not for long. In a few months he would kill the entire clan. Everyone but Sasuke. And then he would join the Akatsuki and live as a criminal, waiting for the day Sasuke would finally grow strong enough to kill him. And then he would die. My eyes were stinging, and I blinked rapidly. It didn't help. "I'm glad you're still here. You're my Onii-chan, and I love you. And Nii-chan loves you too. And we still need you. So please…don't die. Don't…you have to…"
Itachi was a child whose closest friend had been murdered. Shisui had died before his eyes, and Itachi was being crushed under the weight of stopping a coup, preventing civil war, and protecting what he cared about most. I was the adult who would soon be free of it all. I should have been the strong one.
So why couldn't I stop crying?
Hesitantly, Itachi raised his hand to drape over my shoulder. It lingered there, an almost hug, but he shrugged me off when it became obvious that I wasn't going anywhere on my own.
"I have to go," he said, his tone as empty as his eyes.
And he left me there.
Nothing I did mattered.
I couldn't change anything.
…
"How long will you be gone this time?" I asked Itachi, who was cleaning his gear on the veranda just after dawn while the rest of the family still slept. He might have been doing it for convenience and quiet, or he might have been avoiding us. His expression was withdrawn, almost melancholy, so I wiggled in under his arm and gave him a hug. This time he allowed it.
"Just a few days," he said quietly. A quick glance at his pack showed food pills, weapons, and other ninja tools, but there were no camping supplies, which was a good sign. It meant he would have a bed and a roof over his head at least. Compared to most of his missions, that was quite luxurious.
I held out a cloth-wrapped bundle and he raised a questioning eyebrow.
"I made you lunch," I said shyly.
ANBU generally subsisted on food pills for the duration of their missions because stealth was a requirement. They couldn't light fires or eat anything with a strong scent that might give away their position to a ninja with enhanced senses. They also traveled light, cutting down the weight of their gear and counting ounces that might slow them down. As such, they needed food that was light, calorie dense, and nutrient rich. I'd tasted food pills once, and I couldn't imagine having to live on those for weeks at a time. It was like eating little balls of nutritious mud.
"It's ongiri with seaweed and some dango and some daifuku," I clarified when he didn't reach for it immediately. I'd also included a note inside that read 'Do your best, Onii-chan! I believe in you.' It was a meaningless gesture, but despite all of the praise he regularly received, Itachi had never been given the tiniest hint of emotional support by Fugaku or Mikoto or, well, anyone else for that matter. It was, perhaps, foolish to think that he needed it, to think that reaching out in this way would be seen as anything but a childish whim on my part. But no matter how often I reminded myself that nothing I did mattered, I couldn't stop from trying just a little bit.
He took the lunch.
"Thank you, Kiyo-chan," he said. "I have to go now."
"Bye, Onii-chan," I said. "Come home safe."
He raised his hand in a half-wave and then vanished in a body flicker.
I made sure to pack Itachi a single lunch before each mission. It wasn't much, especially when he was gone for a week or more at a time, but it was something. And I always included a special note, making an effort to include something positive and encouraging each time.
It wasn't much, but I liked to think it helped.
…
A few months later, Fugaku took Sasuke down to the lake, and I thought I knew why when they both returned looking less than pleased. Things had been tense at home ever since Shisui's death. Itachi disappeared on missions even more frequently than usual. Considering how often he'd been gone before, that was saying something. Fugaku had also grown even colder and more distant. He'd never been a happy, cheerful man. With the responsibility of looking after a furious clan and fending off a suspicious village, I couldn't really blame him, but it had been weeks since I'd seen him smile and months since I'd heard anything resembling a kind word.
Sure enough, when Sasuke returned, he told me about his failed attempt to learn the clan's signature Fireball jutsu. It was a technique all Uchiha were required to learn before they would be accepted as adults of the clan. I thought he was a little young to be learning the coming-of-age rite, but I'd come to accept was that Fugaku had very little regard for what was and was not reasonable development for his children.
What confused me was the fact that I had not been invited to the lake as well. But Fugaku only scowled and explained that the Fireball technique could put great strain on the user's lungs. I would probably never be able to learn it. Yeah. Fair. After dinner, Sasuke sat with me on the veranda looking dejected.
"Nii-chan?" I asked hesitantly.
"I just wanted…" he trailed off. All of Sasuke's goals, all of his training was centered on making Fugaku proud. He shook his head and squared his shoulders. "I'm going to keep training, Kiyo-chan. I'll get it right. I'm just getting started."
I couldn't fault his determination. That was for certain.
"I know you will," I said because I already knew he could do it.
Sasuke returned to the lake every day after class, and by the end of the week, he dragged Fugaku down to the lake and demonstrated his progress. I followed. Fugaku was still cold, but I thought I detected a hint of surprise when Sasuke succeeded. He'd been so sure that Sasuke wasn't ready. Fugaku said nothing, turning away and walking slowly down the dock. Sasuke's face fell again with confusion and hurt.
Surely this was enough. Why wasn't it enough?
But Fugaku stopped, his back still turned to Sasuke.
"Now then, that's my boy," he said. "You have done well. Work hard and you're bound to soar high and bring honor to the crest you wear on your back."
Seeing Sasuke's smile was like watching the sunrise.
"I will," he said. Of course he would. It was all he'd ever wanted.
"From now on, walk your own path not in the footsteps of Itachi," said Fugaku, looking back at Sasuke briefly before continuing on his way.
"What?" Sasuke asked when Fugaku was out of earshot. "Not in Nii-san's footsteps? But I thought—"
He thought that Fugaku wanted another Itachi.
"Onii-chan has been sad since Shisui-nii-san died," I said. "I think Tou-chan doesn't understand."
As if it was a simple misunderstanding and not a fundamental schism with their ideologies. But it wasn't entirely inaccurate either.
"No, I think it was before that," said Sasuke, frowning. "I woke up to them shouting one night. Nii-san didn't want to go to a meeting. And then after Shisui died, the police came to ask him about it."
"I think Tou-chan puts a lot of pressure on Onii-chan too," I said. And wasn't that an understatement. "Shisui-Nii-san was his best friend. Onii-chan must be in a lot of pain."
"Yeah, Nii-san said that there were downsides to being powerful too," said Sasuke, looking up. "He said that power makes people arrogant and isolated. He said that he was a wall for me to overcome, even if I were to hate him." So, he'd made his decision then. I wondered when the point of no return had been crossed. Perhaps it had been with Shisui's death, the moment when Itachi knew that all other paths had been closed to him. "Is there anything we can do?"
Nothing.
Nothing at all.
"I don't know," I said, and I left it at that.
…
