Chapter 33: Cells

I was floating in a void, down, down, down.

I was so tired.

I ached.

I drifted in and out of dreams. Sometimes I thought I heard voices or felt chakra brushing against me. A few times it was inside me, lighting up my veins like fireflies dancing over water with Itachi smiling at me from the dark, dark, dark…

I hissed in a breath, gasping and jolting awake.

I was no longer in the lab. Instead I was in a strange bower made of thick, interlaced roots that formed the walls, floor, and even the bed on which I was lying. There was an opening on one wall that showed a vast expanse of gray rectangles seemingly stretching on to the horizon.

Oh no…

I tried to sit up, but when I lifted my arms, the motion was suddenly aborted.

I blinked to clear my vision.

My arm was white, not the paleness I'd gotten from over two and a half years without direct sunlight but rather a pure snowy white. And around my wrist was a root wrapped tightly like a chain. But not just any root. It was clearly made from wood release, much like the rest of the bower, and it was suppressing my chakra.

Restraints were common in shinobi hospitals. Patients were often extremely dangerous to themselves, the medics, and the other patients. Mix in drugs, injuries, and vulnerability, and it became common sense to restrain individuals.

But these…

These weren't soft bindings designed to prevent fevered thrashing. These were the type of bindings used for prisoners.

"So, you're finally awake."

A sharp stab of fear sliced through my heart at the deep, cold voice. I turned my head to see Tobi sitting half in shadow. But that wasn't his normal 'Tobi' voice or mannerisms.

"T-Tou-chan?" I asked, wincing at the raspy crack of my voice.

I coughed.

Tobi's chakra fluttered briefly before settling. He stood slowly and reached out for a pitcher of water on a small table. With one smooth motion, he poured a glass of water and then carefully lifted my head to press the cup against my lips. I drank, and he allowed me to finish before settling me back against the pillows.

"W-what happened?" I asked, my voice a little clearer as he loomed over me.

How long had he been waiting for me? I tried again to rise, but my muscles refused to obey, and I slumped back onto the pillows. Tobi only hummed, his irritation clear in the wordless sound.

"That's what I want to know," he said, his chakra crackling with anger. "I found you near death. You were screaming with a lethal dose of Hashirama cells infecting your entire body. So, Kiyo-chan, enlighten me as to what exactly happened."

He…was angry.

"A-are you really…Tou-chan…?" I asked, desperately hoping that he would revert back to his Tobi persona. It was only a mask, but that thin veneer of harmlessness was infinitely better than this. And I needed to stall. To think. Why had he brought me to the Kamui dimension? What was he planning? I needed information. I needed him to talk.

Tobi hesitated, and his chakra seemed to calm a bit.

"...Perhaps it is about time we had a proper introduction," he said at length. He reached up and unhooked the orange mask, lowering it slowly to reveal the Sharingan in his right eye. "I am a living, breathing Uchiha, just like you. My name is Uchiha Madara."

He was trading one lie for another.

"You can't be," I whispered, the barest attempt at an objection. "Madara helped to found Konoha. He died years ago."

"It seems you're already familiar with my history," he said, replacing the mask. "I can assure you that I am very much alive. I've been moving in the shadows for quite some time to further my own ambitions. It was I who created the Akatsuki."

Another lie. Yahiko had created the Akatsuki.

"You…but I thought…Pein-sama…" I said.

Keep talking.

"Pein is the face of the Akatsuki," he said. "But I am the true leader of this organization. I was the one who allowed Itachi to bring you here. In exchange for your safety, you became a tool to keep one of my prized pieces in line. Until now you fulfilled your purpose admirably. But in light of recent events, it seems I must make certain realities clear to you."

He leaned forward, and I shrank back, unable to move far due to the binding roots and my own paralyzing exhaustion.

"You are alive because I have chosen to allow it," he said, his voice low. "You are alive because I have found use in your presence. You are alive because it suits my whim. And now..."

Obito reached out, and I flinched back in alarm. I grasped for my chakra, but it was sealed. I had to get away. I had to…I needed someone…anyone…but there was no one here. No one except–

"Tou-chan!" I shouted.

Obito's hand froze. It stayed there for a moment before he withdrew, stepping back a pace and folding his arms across his chest.

"There is no need for such theatrics," he said, his voice suddenly soft as he leaned against the bower wall. The pose was deliberately non-threatening, giving me as much space as possible. "What use are you to me if you are dead?"

I stared, wide-eyed and terrified. What? Why would he suddenly back down?

And then…it clicked.

"Even if I am no longer of use, no one in the Akatsuki will harm you," said Itachi. "Leader-sama has grown very fond of you during your time here. He is not the only one."

no one in the Akatsuki will harm you.

He is not the only one.

Tou-chan!

Oh.

I never did understand why Obito had wanted me to call him 'Tou-chan'. Obito's only desire was to enter an Infinite Tsukuyomi dream so that he could be with Rin forever. Or rather…that's what it should have been. Obito didn't have children. But maybe…he wanted them? With Rin? And then I came along: a healer like his lost love and an Uchiha in a child's body.

It sounded insane, but the more I thought back on it, the clearer it seemed. He'd given me clothes. He'd told Zetsu to protect me from Konan's wrath during our first meeting. He'd invited me to Obon on a clear night mere weeks after I'd told Itachi that I'd missed seeing the stars. He'd wanted me to call him 'To-chan' and hadn't objected at all when I switched it to 'Tou-chan'.

In fact, it went far beyond that. Now that I thought about it, that title seemed to have a significant effect on his actions. When I'd first seen his Sharingan under the fireworks, he'd momentarily discarded his 'Tobi' persona. But instead of following through with the revelation, he'd fled after I'd called him 'Tou-chan'. Even here in this place, when I'd called him 'Tou-chan' after waking, he'd given me water for my cough. Then, when I'd asked him if he really was 'Tou-chan', he'd momentarily relented from his anger and had introduced himself, or rather this new 'Madara' persona. And now, when my terror made me call out to him, he'd backed away to calm me down.

Suddenly his anger made even more sense. It wasn't just because my death would remove his power over Itachi and Sasuke. His was the anger of a father whose child had nearly died due to their own negligence.

I looked down and clutched at the blankets, my mind whirling as I tried to grasp this new revelation. It complicated things. First, because it meant that Obito was even more emotionally unstable than I'd thought, and second because I had no idea what he intended to do to me because of it. I needed more information. And I needed to get it in a way that didn't make him lash out at me. My best chance was to play along. And I already had plenty of practice pretending to be a child.

If Obito was Fugaku, what would I have said?

I bowed my head.

"I-I'm sorry," I said, the trembling of my words not entirely manufactured. "I wanted to help, but I did something foolish and I ended up hurting myself instead. I didn't mean to. Please don't be mad…Tou-chan."

There was a sharpened spike in Obito's chakra, almost like an aborted jutsu. I flinched. Was I being too obvious?

"Something foolish?" he echoed quietly. "Do you have any idea what would have happened if I hadn't been there to save you? Do you understand what is happening to you even now?"

I glanced down at my pure-white arms. I wanted to run a diagnostic jutsu, but the tree root was still draining my chakra. When I looked back at him, Obito removed one of his gloves and held up his right hand. It was a pure, snowy white just like mine.

"You are not the first to experiment with powers not your own," he said. "Though you are by far the most reckless. I was able to use a…certain material to stabilize your body and compel it to accept the Hashirama cells."

Ah, of course. Madara had used White Zetsu material augmented by Hashirama cells on Obito, and Obito seemed like the kind of person to study the modifications to his own body. He'd had decades to work out the finer points and limitations. Which made my mad dash to inject myself with the cells seem even more foolhardy.

"Your body is still adapting to the changes, and your medical skills are useless against the regenerative power of the cells," he said. "Until you are stable, this tree will keep you alive. Any attempt to remove your bindings will result in a slow, agonizing death. I trust you understand."

I nodded.

"Good," he said. "And in case you're considering escaping with your Hiraishin, you should know that we're presently in the Kamui dimension, an alternate plane created by my Mangekyo Sharingan. The only way in or out is through me. So rest now. I will return to check on you later. When you are healed, we can discuss how you will continue to be of use to me."

Obito lifted one hand in a seal and vanished in a swirl of displaced air.

I wasn't quite sure how long I spent in the Kamui dimension. With my chakra suppressed, I had no mental or physical energy, so I slept more often than not. Time passed in brief fragments of shallow waking between dreams. I was usually alone when I woke, but sometimes Obito was there…watching me. Obito didn't speak much, but he did tell me a few things from time to time like the fact that I no longer needed to eat or drink thanks to the Hashirama cells. I could if I wanted to, but the cells would provide all the nutrients I needed to live from now on.

I tried to use Obito's more talkative moments to better understand his mental state. Obito never explicitly addressed the fact that he thought of me as his daughter, but there were a few telling moments such as when he referred to Itachi as my cousin rather than my brother. Or the fact that he would bring me small presents and toys more appropriate for a small child than a teenager. His generosity prompted a bit of experimentation on my part. I determined that although Obito really did soften quite a bit when I called him 'Tou-chan', there were limits to what he would provide.

I could always request small, inconsequential things that a child might ask for like candies or fruit, and I could be reasonably certain that he would provide them. Sometimes he would wake me to deliver them, and sometimes he would simply leave them on the bedside table. Other things weren't quite as certain. Obito was unwilling to tell me anything regarding the outside world including what was happening with the Akatsuki, my brothers, or the jinchuuriki. I pushed this a bit harder than common sense should have allowed, but this was something I was willing to risk his wrath for.

Thankfully, he never seemed to hold it against me. In fact, as the days passed, he seemed to grow more at ease, which emboldened me enough to broach a subject I'd been thinking about for quite a while.

"Tou-chan, there is…something I wanted to ask you," I said hesitantly.

"Go on," said Obito.

"W-well, Onii-chan is strong, really strong," I said. "But I don't think he's, well, he wasn't strong enough to…to kill everyone in the clan. Not by himself. Were you…I mean, did you…?"

I trailed off, not quite able to form the words.

"Did I help Itachi in the slaughter of our clan?" Obito finished. I nodded. "Yes."

I knew the answer. I'd expected it. But the unfeeling admission still felt so wrong somehow.

"…Why?" I asked, the word small and quiet.

"Because they were in my way," he said.

I blanched, but had I really expected anything else? The Mangekyo Sharingan was incredibly powerful, and there were several users within the clan. If Obito wanted to take over the world, he would need to make sure they couldn't stand against him.

And for that he…

I looked away.

"Do you really hate us that much?" I asked. I should probably stop. But I had to know. The Uchiha were so close-knit, it was hard to imagine that Obito hadn't had a single friend or loved one in the entire clan. Had there really been no one that he wanted to save?

"What I felt is irrelevant," he said. "I have found a use for you and your brothers. Your life and their strength will bring about a new era of peace in this broken world."

No, we wouldn't. At least, not in the way he was imagining.

"You still doubt me," said Obito, and I winced.

"Oh, um, well…" I mumbled. I wasn't about to challenge Obito on his philosophy. This was Obito after all. But my misgivings were obvious enough. "I don't see how causing more pain and suffering will make things better."

"I have spent many years traveling this world," said Obito. "I sought answers for why we suffer, and everywhere I looked I found only darkness. Whatever suffering I create is nothing compared to the atrocities committed by others. We are merely a means to an end, a method by which the darkness will one day be swept away."

With that logic, he could justify anything. His goal was a dream world where all of his terrible actions had simply never happened.

"It's true that there is darkness in this world," I admitted. I could hardly claim otherwise. "There was a time when I thought that the whole world was empty and black. But when I couldn't find the light, I didn't give up. I became the light for someone precious to me. I think that we could lessen the suffering in this world by being the light we want to find."

"And what evil has been vanquished by your light?" Obito asked. "The only reason you are alive right now is because of those who walk in darkness."

I…couldn't argue against that.

Zabuza and Haku had been defeated by brute force. The same was true for Gaara. And without Itachi's timely rescue, I would likely have disappeared into Root or Orochimaru's lab. I was alive because I had the good fortune of being surrounded by powerful individuals who deigned to protect me.

On my own, I would have died a long time ago.

"The world is broken, and it's not meant for people like me who don't want to fight," I agreed. "I owe my life to all the people who stood up for me when I needed them. And because of that, I want to mend their wounds and soothe their pain. And I want to help others too, because everyone needs help sometimes, and I want to be there for others the way that others have been there for me. I might not be able to do much, but I can do that at least. It won't change the world, but it might make the world we have a little bit better."

"I am not interested in a world that is a little bit better," said Obito. "When my dream becomes a reality there will be no wounds to mend and no pain to soothe. Everyone will have all that they desire."

"And what do you desire?" I asked.

Obito was silent for a long moment.

"By aiding me, you will play a part in saving this world," he said. "That is all you need to know."

Some time later, Obito returned. He reached over and carefully probed my arm. Small amounts of chakra danced across my skin in a basic diagnostic jutsu. When he pulled away, it was with a sound of satisfaction.

"It seems the changes have solidified," he said. "This is no longer necessary."

He ran his hand over the roots that had held me in place since my arrival here. They shuddered, loosening their hold on my arms and I…

…collapsed bonelessly into Obito's grasp as he held me up.

"Breathe," he said. "It's only your chakra."

I took a few deep, gasping breaths. Obito did not release me immediately, and I clutched at his arm for support. It was chakra alright. But it was foreign, alien, like oil running through my veins.

And it was immense, bubbling and flowing like a vast river beneath my skin where once there had been a small spring. I mentally poked and prodded it as Obito held me fast. It responded to my touch and call. I tentatively shaped the chakra into a diagnostic jutsu.

The transformation had taken place on a cellular level. I was still recognizably me, but the Hashirama cells had infected every part of my body. They'd settled down now and weren't doing any damage, at least none I could identify. In fact, they were regenerating even small injuries like the microscopic muscle tears.

"You've never had access to your full chakra before, have you?" Obito asked.

He let me go and stepped back.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"You've always been a sickly child," said Obito. "You cycled healing chakra through your body day and night for years just to stay healthy. With the Hashirama cells performing the healing, your natural reserves have had time to reach their full capacity. The cells, too, offer some of Hashirama's legendary strength. Your chakra capacity currently exceeds even that of Pein. Now I have a job for you. Come with me."

He held out his hand. I didn't really want to take it, but if this was the only way out…

I laid my hand in his, and in a swirl of air, we were suddenly back in the main Akatsuki base. Itachi was waiting on a nearby examination table with one forearm braced against his knee. It might have been a relaxed pose but for his unnatural stillness and the way his gaze snapped to mine the moment I entered. His expression, too, was unreadable.

"Onii-chan," I said, unable to hide my sudden relief. Of course he needed his regular healing.

"I want a prognosis for his eyes," said Obito.

Oh, okay? I stood at the head of the examination table and brought the diagnostic chakra to my hands before I held them up to Itachi's closed eyes.

My brow furrowed.

"Onii-chan…"

"What is the prognosis?" Obito asked.

"...There is extensive damage to his ocular cells," I said carefully.

'Extensive damage' didn't quite cover it.

He was very nearly blind, likely only able to distinguish movement, color, and general shapes. This was the deterioration brought on by the Mangekyo Sharingan.

I couldn't fix this…

No one could fix this…

"Are you able to restore his sight?" Obito asked.

I hesitated.

"It will take some time," I hedged.

"I see," said Obito. "Very well. Take whatever time you need and inform me when he is once again mission ready."

Obito raised a hand to form a seal and vanished.

I stood frozen in silence for a long moment, my hands resting lightly over Itachi's closed eyelids. I could feel the way his chakra flowed. He felt calm, as though he actually thought I could do something about this.

Itachi reached up to touch my face.

"Are you well, Kiyo-chan?" he asked, for once not bothering to use a genjutsu. Though at this point it probably didn't matter much.

Obito knew.

I laid my hand over Itachi's.

How was I going to tell him?

Obito wanted Itachi's strength. If Itachi was suddenly crippled...

There was only one course of action, really.

"I need to prepare you for surgery," I said, my voice strangely calm. It shouldn't have been, really. At best this was a patch job.

It would have to be enough.

Itachi's eyebrows furrowed, barely a twitch under my touch. I stepped back and took one of the medical seals from the shelf. It would keep him sedated and stabilized while I worked. I didn't have the luxury of a second one, but that was fine. I would make it work.

"What is the procedure?" he asked. Fair question. I'd always healed him with chakra alone when he'd come to me before. This was rather unusual.

"Transplant," I said, placing the seal on the exam table.

Before I could lower him onto the seal, he was standing.

"Unacceptable," he said. I tried to push him back down, but he brushed me aside. "I require the Sharingan."

"You'll still have the Sharingan," I said.

Itachi was clever. He understood immediately.

"No," he said. The word fell like a stone, unyielding in its finality.

"It's the only way," I countered. He had to understand. There were limits to miracles. "I don't need eyes to be useful to them."

But he did. Without his eyes, he was no longer an S-rank threat. He was still powerful, of course, but not powerful enough to belong to the Akatsuki.

Itachi was staring me down with ink-dark eyes. From this angle, I could see the faint white sheen that blanketed his vision.

"Do you understand what you're offering?" he asked, calm and level.

I opened my mouth to say yes, but his eyes, clouded as they were, stared hard into mine. And so I took a moment to consider it, to truly imagine what a life of blindness would mean. Even if I transplanted his eyes into mine, my vision would not be adequate to read or write. I would no longer be able to look up references or read new medical texts and would have to rely on memory for any obscure medical facts. I could continue to heal using my chakra sense as my healing procedures rarely required sight, but I would be limited in my ability to diagnose problems at a glance the way I usually could.

And there were other things as well.

Starlight and fireflies would be all but lost to me. I would never see Sasuke's or Itachi's faces ever again.

Even so…

"It's the only way," I repeated. And wasn't that the sad truth? All my time studying medicine and healing the sick, and this was all I could do?

This was it?

"Then there is nothing more to discuss," he said, turning to the door. "I will speak with Madara."

The bottom dropped out of my stomach.

"It will only be for a short while!" I shouted. Itachi stopped, and my brain finally caught up with the words I'd spoken. As if they made any sense at all.

Unless…

Unless…

"My body is made of Hashirama cells now," I said, the words spilling out, tumbling over one another in my haste to explain, pretending like I'd planned this from the beginning and wasn't just making it up on the spot. "They regenerate injuries and I've theorized that they can regrow limbs and cure chronic issues like blindness. It's in Orochimaru's notes and I've observed similar behavior in my own tests. If I take your eyes and transplant them into me, I think...I know I can heal them. When the process is complete, I can transplant them back."

The Uchiha clan had extensive texts and documentation on eye transplants for obvious reasons. The Konoha hospital had taken their notes and turned it into a standard part of the curriculum. A talented medic could perform a transplant in minutes. I had done it a half dozen times already.

"The process cannot be done without a transplant?" Itachi asked, still wary. I couldn't blame him. Without the Mangekyo Sharingan, he would be at a serious disadvantage against Pein and Obito. Parting with it, even for a short time, would be disconcerting.

I opened my mouth to say no, but I paused.

"If I inject you with Hashirama cells, the effect will be the same," I said slowly. "But, after certain events, that's probably not advisable." I gestured to myself before remembering the pointlessness of the motion. I cleared my throat to cover up the momentary pause. "And I don't think Madara-sama would allow it anyway."

No kidding.

Even the thought of asking made my stomach clench. He might not have injured me, but an angry Obito was not something to take lightly.

"How long would it take and what is the success rate?" he asked.

"I don't know," I admitted. "But it's the only way and it will work."

Medics weren't supposed to make promises. Certainly not for experimental procedures with no real data backing up the claims. But Itachi had to agree, and I would say what I needed to say to make it happen. Besides, Obito used his Mangekyo Sharingan all the time and it had shown no signs of deterioration. It was most likely due to his Hashirama cells.

Probably.

I hoped so, anyway.

Itachi nodded, slow and thoughtful.

"I see," he said, and I smothered an inappropriate smile at the irony of that phrase. "If you believe that this is the best path forward, I will agree to the surgery." My heart leaped. "But you will consult with Madara before doing anything."

And my heart dropped straight back down again. But I could understand his reasoning. Obito was angry because I'd been reckless. Apparently I hadn't learned a single thing from my solitary confinement either. He would probably be just as angry if I went through with the surgery without consulting him first. He would probably still be angry.

But what was the alternative? He needed Itachi's strength. His response was a forgone conclusion.

"And if you are unable to heal my eyes, you will still return them to me regardless," he added.

I winced.

Itachi really could see right through me. If the procedure wasn't successful, I hadn't been planning to take my eyes back. He really did need them more than me, but I could also understand why he wouldn't want to keep them.

"Alright," I agreed, attempting to inject a note of confidence I didn't feel. "Let's see what Madara-sama says."

Intellectually, I was prepared for the concept of blindness. But the reality was both nerve-wracking and frustrating. Obito hadn't been particularly happy about my proposal, but he admitted that it had merit. Obito had been kind enough to let me perform a diagnostic jutsu on him which gave me a clearer understanding of how the cells interacted with a Mangekyo Sharignan.

I took what information I could and mentally filed it away before performing the transplant.

"Alright, Onii-chan, how is it?" I asked.

I couldn't see because of the thick bandages wrapped around my eyes. Well, they were really Itachi's eyes transplanted into my head. Itachi had my eyes. His eyes were so badly deteriorated that I didn't want to risk using them at all. It was better to stay in total darkness until I could get an idea of how much work I had to do.

"Adequate," he said, sitting up. I could feel his chakra and the slight stirring of air as he shifted, but that was it. He moved with ninja silence.

"I'll know how long it should take within a few days," I said, touching the bandages. "I would estimate between two weeks and a month."

"Impressive," said Obito. "If you are done here, I will return you to the bower."

"She will stay with me," said Itachi.

I stilled at the spike of Intent.

There was a long, long silence between them. I couldn't see what they were doing. Their chakras were raised but otherwise still, not shaped into a jutsu or prepared for an attack. I wanted to fidget as the very air filled with the heavy silence of Intent.

"…Very well," said Obito at last, though the tension did not lessen. "She will be confined to your room until she has finished healing your eyes, at which time you will return to active duty, and she will return to me."

There was a beat of silence and no further objections. Obito's chakra flared, but he merely departed into Kamui. I waited a beat longer to be sure that he was gone before I let out a shaky breath and slid off the stool. It was disorienting to stand without any visual cues, and I wobbled, reaching blindly. Itachi caught my hand to steady me.

"Can you walk?" he asked, quiet and soft, so unlike his normally blank tone.

"Yes, Onii-chan," I said.

He gave my hand a squeeze and guided me back to our room. He helped me sit on the bed, removed my shoes, and helped me change into a night dress. His attentiveness made me wonder how difficult it must have been for him with his own deteriorating eyesight. He didn't exactly have the luxury of someone looking after him.

"Onii-chan, there's something I want to ask of you," I said with only a hint of trepidation. Itachi made a sound to indicate that he was listening. "A…a lot of bad things might be coming soon. If something bad happens to me, if I die, will you bring my body back to Konoha? Back to the clan grounds?"

It was a stupid, selfish, pointless thing to ask. What did it matter what happened to me after I was dead? The dead didn't care. But still, the thought of winding up in an unmarked grave in some strange, foreign place made me feel inexplicably sad. It was a fate shared by many ninja.

"You will not die," said Itachi.

"Promise me anyway?" I asked.

Itachi sighed.

"I will ensure that you are returned to Konoha," he said. "I promise."

My sense of relief was immediate.

"Thank you, Onii-chan," I said.

One way or another, I was going home.

I lay down on my bed, but to my surprise, Itachi scooped me up and placed me on his bed instead, tucking me under the sheets before laying on top. This wasn't particularly unusual. Whenever he was here and I had nightmares, I always crawled into bed with him. He never objected, merely holding me until I fell asleep.

This time, however, he wrapped his arms around me a shade too tight, and it occurred to me that perhaps this embrace wasn't entirely for my sake. I wondered what it must have been like for him. How had he learned of what had happened? Had Obito told him, or had he simply returned one day to find that I was gone? Did he think that I'd died and that Obito was covering it up?

That thought led to a sinking realization.

Itachi's eyesight should not have deteriorated this quickly. I'd been monitoring him carefully and had been administering regular healings to keep it under control. Had he…intentionally destroyed his own eyes, forcing Obito to release me so that I could treat him?

Had he hurt himself just to know that I was still safe?

Itachi's clinging grip had not loosened, still too stiff and desperate to be soothing. I wiggled one of my arms free and reached up to touch his face.

"It's okay, Onii-chan," I said.

It wasn't.

Nothing about this situation was okay. But I had to say it anyway.

Itachi leaned into my touch before finally relaxing his grip and allowing me to settle into a more comfortable position.

For the first time, it was me who held him until he fell asleep.