Perched on a sturdy tree branch, Sayuri stares ahead, her gaze fixated on the road below. She had tumbled through the portal and into a waterfall, her clothes soaked and torn from the impact.
She was able to remain on top of the water's surface for a moment, but only after being completely submerged by the force of the waterfall. Her clothing has been saturated with sludge, so it is obvious that she needs to change. Sayuri sighs, aghast.
She sends out a swarm of spiders to search for her missing siblings. While she waits for her summons to return with any updates, she unties her fish-like plait so that it may dry naturally in the crisp breeze.
Sayuri's gaze wanders towards the world around her. She notices a field in the distance with long, rich grass gently murmuring in the wind. A variety of wildflower species emerge from the ground, painting the panorama in vibrant and vivid shades of green, purple, bright pink, and blue. Her attention is drawn to a bridge that joins two massive cliffs above her.
She leaps, falls gracefully on the ground, and then strolls blithely up to a patch of wildflowers, plucking one carefully and observing its delicate beauty.
Sayuri draws a deep breath, centring herself and connecting to her inner chakra. Her senses become more acutely tuned to everything around her as the energy flows through her core. She scans the area slowly and easily, detecting the presence of approximately forty individuals nearby. Methodically, she examines their chakra signatures, hoping to find a trace or a glimmer that might lead her closer to her brothers. But this time, she is left empty-handed, as none of the signatures match what she is searching for. There are no hints of her brothers' unique chakra patterns anywhere near her.
All she has to do at this point is wait for her spiders to find her brothers or gather information about her current location. She sits by the river and dips both of her feet into the chilly water while pulling up her skirt.
She tucks a few strands behind her ear, pulls a cigarette from her pocket, lights it with a strike of lightning, exhales deeply, and then watches the smoke twirl and tangle with the wind while considering the possibilities.
Her gaze shifts toward the carriages passing by slowly, pulled steadily by donkeys and horses with a rhythmic clip-clop of their hooves.
The road ahead appears to be congested with strict border guards, making it slower for the carriages to move on. Several of the passengers take a break from this monotonous journey by stealing admiring glances at her, sighing loudly.
She lifts her hand in a beckoning gesture to a little kid wearing a straw hat, who is sitting on the back of one stalled carriage.
Without a second thought, the lad rushes off the carriage and runs straight in her direction, oblivious to the others' unified chorus of disbelief of surprise. At first glance, he looks to be around nine years old, with sandy blond hair, a timid smile, and cheeks that have been flushed from hours in the autumn sun.
He stands in front of her and exclaims, "Miss," with expectancy in his eyes.
His mother keeps a cautious gaze while frowning, plainly frustrated and worried about her son's hasty disregard for a stranger. Sayuri waves and smiles at her while momentarily setting down her cigarette as a further friendly gesture.
"Sweet boy," she says to the kid, while placing a wildflower behind his ear, "could you please tell me where we are? I seem to have lost my way."
Her act seems to catch the boy off guard, and he blinks in surprise, before blushing and splurging shyly. "That's… T— Tenchi Bridge." He pointed towards the majestic bridge that looms above them. "…basically, it's like a— the way from The Land of Fire to Kusagakure.."
"Thank you. What year is this?"
He pauses, gazing at his carriage that starts moving, "erm— y'know, I'm not sure.. seven or eight years after the last shinobi war."
He continues to rant about the direction, and about the mean border guards between the two lands until his carriage starts moving again.
"Lovely, thank you again. Take care, kid."
He runs back to his mother, and Sayuri puts back the cigarette between her lips. She walks down a winding road in the direction of a little settlement tucked amid the hills, following the boy's advice. The settlement gives off the impression of being a busy center, a common stop for carriages and tired travelers.
After finding a map, she did the reasonable thing and cleaned up in a public restroom. Then, she went around asking people to write down directions and investigate what was going on politically in the Lands.
Finally, she appears at the marketplace, strolls about and chooses one that appeals to her.
There's a tall, young teen who sees her and gives her a big smile. But the smile falters slightly as the teenager's eyes shift down at her stained, unkempt attire.
"Good morning, how can I assist you?" the teenager, Rei, as the name tag dubbed her, says .
"I am in need of a new outfit suitable for long distance travels," Sayuri replies.
Rei nods, "Certainly. Do you have a specific style or preference in mind for your new outfit? We've got some coat options you might wanna check out."
Sayuri starts humming. "I'll check it out myself," she says airily. She aimlessly wanders around the racks, searching through all the clothes and trying on different outfits.
Rei shouts after her, "Hey, the kunoichi section is on the left!"
She hums in recognition.
In the end, Sayuri settles on a thin black camisole that accentuates her figure. The well-fitted, flexible camisole has two layers of delicate black net-like fabric. She then chooses a crop top in the same color that has narrow, elbow-length sleeves and is made of a pleasantly light cotton-like material. For the bottom, she selects black capris and switches her leather boots for a pair of matching black ninja sandals to add a little practicality to her outfit. On her way to the changing room, she picks a random black arm warmer.
Although the crop top is somewhat longer than anticipated, it still suits her well. The net-like camisole reaches her waistline at its full length. Except for the weapon pouch, which sticks out in a distinctive cream color, the ensemble initially appears to be one cohesive garment.
She tugs out her father's storage scroll, which he gave her before the surprise ambush, as she sits on the floor of the changing room, sealing everything up. She scowls when the scroll is filled to the brim with all of her ruined clothes.
Sayuri thinks about it for a bit before deciding to go through everything and determine what she wants to keep. If she wants to keep the dress, she might as well say goodbye to her leather coat and boots.
She finds a wooden box and a paper bag among her clothing, the latter of which, to her astonishment, has a mid-length haori shirt. She breathes, "Oh, Oto-san's gifts."
The haori is in the Uchiha clan's signature Tyrian Purple, which is normal in and of itself, but it has the clan crest plainly sewed on the back.
It's a bittersweet discovery, as her father had consistently and firmly forbidden her from wearing the crest for her own protection. Instead, he reasoned that the best and safest way to subtly acknowledge her ancestry without attracting unwanted attention would be to wear Tyrian purple, the traditional color specified for Uchiha women.
Sayuri examines herself through the full-length mirror in the haori, then peers over her shoulder at the white and red crest with the Sharingan flashing momentarily.
When she eventually opens the door, she sees Rei looking back at her with a sour expression on her face.
Rei points out, annoyed, "Excuse me—sorry, but smoking is not allowed in this area..." She pauses in mid-sentence and gives her a discerning look before returning to face her once again. Then all of a sudden, she exclaims, "It looks good, no... you look good."
Sayuri blinks in surprise before grinning and saying, "Thank you," as she places the storage scroll inside her weapon pouch.
Once she has paid for all of her purchases, she walks out. Upon recognizing the crest, she hears Rei cease her steps and then, after a second, shout after her, "Have a safe journey, Uchiha-san!".
Being identified as an Uchiha in public was, to use Kaisuke's expression, "interesting", to put it mildly. She is not yet known for being Sasuke Uchiha's daughter, nor is the clan well-known for its participation in the war. She is only an Uchiha, a traveler, and a normal guest. There is no misrepresentation, no concealment, and no trace of her father's hand-me-down reputation.
Sayuri halts in mid-step as the onlookers' gazes abruptly turn in her direction. She then looks at Rei over her shoulder and grins lightly. The street, subdued, melts into a blurry mess of dust and color as she shunshinens away.
She reaches to Kusagakure in about a half-day, genjutsuing her way past the weathered gates and lousy defense. In truth, it comes as a surprise how simple it is to sneak into a military settlement. But considering that Kusagakure is a minor village, even after the fourth shinobi war, it shouldn't be.
Hope is a dangerous thing, as the wise say. Her father, even though he claimed he is not even half-wise most of the time, warned her about reaching too high for the sun.
But if Sayuri Uchiha is anything, really, she's Sasuke's daughter. She isn't sensitive, nor is she tenderhearted or idealistic. Like her father before her, she reaches too high for the sun because she is able to. Simple as that. She is destined to be a wildfire or a storm; it is in her very being.
She could still head back and keep her promise to Kaisuke and Jushiro to seek their mother with them one time when they wait for the Konoha Chunin exam. But the chances that led to the holding of the exam might not even exist now, considering how the world has altered from its original state and how the current Hokage isn't the same dopey, senile idiot.
If the changes have altered her mother's past, she would still search for her throughout the corners of this wretched world. To hell with promises. To hell with schemes. To hell with everything.
A spider approaches her, its slimy legs scramble up into her crop top and relentlessly swing there. She lifts a finger to offer it a place to rest. After quickly regaining balance, the spider informs her of her brothers' whereabouts, and she grimaces while muttering, "God help me, those fools. How do I put up with them?"
Her eyes instantly flare with something so dark that it makes the vendor who is wistfully staring at her shrink away.
"They'll bear it." She says, "tell them I'm coming, anyway."
Kusa is approximately 391 miles away from Konoha, which is equivalent to a week and a half of walking. She is already here, and given her potential company, it will take her at least two weeks to reach Konoha.
She takes a seat, holding a cup of bland green tea in her hand, crossing one leg over the other, and softly spreading her chakra over miles and miles of the Amateraus-forsaken village.
Then, subtly, she detects a faint thing, like a gust of wind or a splash of water. It is so weak, so light, so feeble, and so, she realizes with a sharp pang, familiar.
With a sense of solemnity, Sayuri stands, pays for the bland tea, and walks absently through the streets.
She sees her before she can actually see her. It's the smoothing, barley-forgotten familiarity of the wind-natured Chakra that pulls her blindly toward the uncertain.
Nearly five individuals are present in the space, which she recognizes as a medical facility of some sort. Her mother's barely-recognisable signature is one of them, along with four others. Her mother's signature flares up alertly, and Sayuri tugs at it gently. A pause, then, rather hesitantly, the signature relaxes unseeable.
Sayuri pulls her Chakra securely as she creeps over the walls, although there's a slight chance they've noticed her.
She wraps herself in a thick layer of Genjutsu. She notices a man standing with his arms folded across his chest, leaning against the wall opposite the bed. Two other men, of middle age and medium build, are on the side, with one of them lying on the bed and the other whispering to him incoherently, making it difficult for her to pay attention.
Sayuri's attention is captured by a pair of redheads, a mother and daughter.
The woman has a bony and tall figure with red hair that lacks a healthy shine and reaches her shoulders. Her high and prominent cheekbones stand out noticeably, and her collarbone is visible as it protrudes from beneath her shirt, likely due to undernourishment.
Her face, like ivory, is lifeless. Looking deeply into their depths, she sees all of mankind's grief in her eyes. They are steadfast, but as deep as the ocean. In them, there is no retaliation, no bitterness, no resentment—just a bottomless well of sadness. Her eyes, as if they are speaking, seem to beg her, to beg anyone who cares to look into them.
Her extremely pale skin, shaky movements, and slightly off-rhythm steps make her health condition unambiguous to anybody who pays careful attention.
Sayuri observes the bite marks on her wrists and realizes that, hidden by the heavy layer of garments she is donning, they likely extend up her arms as well.
Sayuri then turns her gaze to her target, to the little girl on the other side of the bed. The child, a redhead with shoulder-length hair, briefly looks towards her mother before directing her attention towards Sayuri's concealed hiding spot, her keen senses alert and attentive.
The woman's eyes sharpen her way, suddenly becoming alert. She swiftly yanks her child back from the patient without a second thought, cursing the man she was healing to yelp in surprise. "What's the matter with you?"
Blood drips from the man's wound, a wound that seems to be three inches deep; half of it has already been stitched up skilfully by the needle.
Immediately, Sayuri regains focus and quickly casts a Genjutsu on her to allay her concerns and persuade her that her perception of Sayuri was only a figment of her imagination.
The woman freezes in place, her eyes fixated on her own hand. There, she notices the bloodied needle, still strung with medical thread, protruding from the man's hand pointlessly.
"Oh my god, I am incredibly— sorry. I have no idea what came over me," she exclaims, reaching to fix her mess.
"Stuff your hand into his mouth and get it over with." The man leaning against the wall says idly, "Seriously, just use your bloodline limit already. Why are you even wasting everyone's time, including yours? Come on, woman, it's not that hard."
"I can't, not now.. I overused it."
In an instant, the man closest to her grabs her hand and forcefully pulls it towards him. "Why didn't I think of this before? Hey, refugee! It's time to pay back those who took you in and gave you shelter!" He demands, brazen in his entitlement.
The woman becomes tense, clearly distressed. However, she manages to calmly pull her hand away and replies, "I'm sorry, but I really can't."
A moment of tension fills the air as the three shinobi exchange a silent glance. Suddenly, without warning, the man who had forcefully grabbed her lifts his hand in a threatening manner, ready to deliver a slap. His words drip with anger as he warns, "Don't you dare talk back to me."
Sayuri, however, deftly stops him in the very last split second by easily seizing his wrist and tightening her hold. Half-smiling, half-grimacing, she scolds him, "Shinobi-san, raising your hand against a defenseless woman." She twists his wrist, and it cracks slightly beneath her pressure, "is quite distasteful."
"What the—"
Sayuri's Sharingan blazes with fierce intensity as she swiftly incapacitates the two men. The man who remains in her grip yelps and grunts, fear in his eyes as he looks up at her, his voice trembling. "You... you can't do this, Uchiha. It goes against the terms of — the… peace treaty."
A malicious smirk graces Sayuri's lips as she coldly replies, "Merely suggesting that I am associated with that wretched place is an insult in itself." With a sudden twist of her hand, she shatters his wrist; the sickening sound of breaking bones fills the air. He crumples to his knees, shrieking in agony. Without hesitation, Sayuri delivers a powerful knee strike, breaking his nose and leaving him unconscious on the ground.
His screams, however, must have alerted somebody. Her time is therefore limited.
"Come with me," Sayuri says, hardly not looking at the kid—her sweet (not dead) mother.
Instinctively, the woman takes a fearful step back, shielding her daughter behind her trembling form. She pleads exigently, her voice filled with despair, "I beg you, from the depths of my heart, spare us from any harm. My daughter... I cannot bear to see her suffer. Please, let us be."
In that very moment, a sudden realization strikes Sayuri with a jolt. She sees herself as the Red-Eyed Demon in the song about her father. A surge of something dark and unsightly seeps into her heart, causing her to regard her young mother with a mixed sense of shock and trepidation. Trepidation is a familiar territory.
The girl timidly peeks out from behind the woman, who obviously is her mother, therefore, Sayuri's grandmother.
Sayuri's eyes suddenly sear her, as though they were seething from inside. she blinks, blinks, her vision blurred, then it unblurred. She wants to wash them with water. She turns to look at them. Re-focusing on the matter in her hands. "Kanna-san, I assume?" She asks the Uzumaki woman.
Kanna pauses, still wearily "yes?"
Sayuri's eyes fixate on the ceiling briefly as she bites her lip, fighting back tears that threaten to escape. Regaining her composure, she directs her gaze towards the two standing before her. "Do not waste yourselves on unworthy men or an ungrateful village. I know it's a big thing I'm asking—but I'm asking. Come with me."
With a determined stride, she closes the distance between them, her voice filled with urgency. "Come with me, and I swear upon everything I hold dear that I will protect you, both of you. You won't have to worry about anyone or anything. You'll be free to prioritize yourselves. The truth is, they will carelessly tear you apart until there's nothing left of you. What about your daughter? Do you want her to suffer the same cruel fate?"
Sayuri is not her twin; in fact, Suigetsu used to jocularly claim that she extracted all of Sasuke's recycled, all-consuming wrath out of her brother's portion when she and Kaisuke were still in the womb.
"Why should I trust you?" questions Kanna skeptically. Sayuri briefly stifles an unseemly chuckle that threatens to escape her throat. She peers into Kanna's eyes, which are the same shade of purple as a bruise on her hands. Even if there is a definite glimmer of seething wrath inside their depths, her eyes still make her think of the bleached-out dawn sky.
She looks at Karin, eyes like her mother, but she only sees dread. That kid had nothing of her rebellious mother.
Sayuri closes her eyes, and when she opens them again, they are filled with an inky blackness. She whispers, "Because…" forming a half-hand sign, and ignoring the instinctual recoil of the two Uzumaki. Chakra-formed chains begin to surge from her back, which manifests as complex filaments that resemble spider webs with a soft, light purple hue. Though they appear delicate, some texts claim they are powerful enough to restrain a Tailed-beast.
"... I am your blood, Uzumaki-san." She whispers, and it's deeper this time, darker, more sincere. She's suddenly, in her rawest form, or at least some imitation of it.
Jiraiya lets out an impressed whistle, acknowledging Kaisuke's restraining seal. "That's a smart move," he commends, easily dispelling the seal. "It would have worked on someone less experienced, though. I am Jiraiya, one of the legendary Sannin." He theatrically mimics exaggerated heroic gestures. "Seals happen to be my area of expertise."
Kaisuke, unimpressed, clicks his tongue dismissively. Not one to miss an opportunity for some banter, he remarks, "You're awfully arrogant for someone who earned his title through defeat. It's almost laughable, old man."
The Uchiha unsheathes his sword from the baldric, a snake coiled around his neck, and activates his Sharingan. Assuming a fighting stance, his Sharingan glimmers under the golden light. "Oi, pervert fuck, why are you picking a fight with me? Aren't y' too old for that?"
Jiraiya lifts his hands in a placating manner, still smiling nonchalantly, "Now, now, no need to be so defensive. But to answer your questions; well, I don't see any reason not to. You already knew this; the book really caught my attention. It's a part that hasn't been written yet. I noticed that most of it is like an edited draft, just like the one I happened to be writing two days ago. Your sword is Kiri-made, which means you might be connected to Sasuke Uchiha, the drifter who saved the village seven years ago and is rumored to be a mercenary working only for the Mizukage, who led a radical change of government with his advice. A man who somehow killed the immortal Kakuzu of Takigakure and Sasori of the Red Sand. It's pretty obvious that you're an Uchiha too. And about that snake you've got, which is linked to Orochimaru, but that is another subject anyway."
"Damn, the old man is out there making a name for himself, hah" Kaisuke muses. He twirls the sword aimlessly, "Ok, ok— let's say I actually do know this guy you're calling Sasuke. So what? Like, seriously, what do you expect to accomplish by bothering me and, like, by extension, bothering him? This dude seems like the type who goes all out when provoked, someone who has no regard for the law, ethics, or basically anything. A godless man, I wager, no shrine would ever want him. But how the heck would I know! I've never even heard of anyone named Sasuke in my whole fifteen years of existence. Although I can totally imagine him summoning a lightning dragon and wrecking his enemies for merely waking him up before the sun rises, I don't know why. God bless him, though."
"That is quite suspiciously specific for someone you claim you don't know." Jiraiya accuses, finger pointing at him vaguely.
"What can I say? I'm a mystic at heart." Kaisuke says in a rasp, watching from the corner of his eyes as one of his snakes disappears in a puff of smoke.
Jiraiya hums as he scribbles something in a notebook before glancing up at Kaisuke. "You're an Uchiha, a Kiri-nin, and you're on Orochimaru's side. He must find you helpful enough to even give you your own summons. Also, I can tell from your strong south-eastern accent that you must be a seasider, one from the Land of Whirling, specifically—So, boy, you can't get rid of me tha–"
His snake hisses, and Kaisuke tunes the man out for a moment, he then waves a hand dramatically, cutting him off his rants "Okay."
Jiraiya stutters, "O—okay?"
"Yup, there's no way I can ditch you, anyway. How about you buy me a coffee and we can talk about that terrible plot you chose for the seventh part of the series. Oh, and sensei is expecting us there before sunrise, are you up for it?"
The Sannin stares at the Uchiha, frankly, he's a little insulted to be disregarded so easily. Meanwhile, Kaisuke maintains his smile, idly twirling his sword while his white snake hisses in his ear. He responds with a nonchalant hum, briefly pouting as he glances between the snake and the older man.
"Speak now or fuck off, my little brother is needing me." He pauses, muttering under his breath, "I kinda need you to salvage that too."
The Sannin makes a displeased noise, but in the end, Kaisuke finds himself devouring plate after plate of sushi, a mischievous grin on his face, while The Sannin grumbles in exasperation over the ever-increasing bill.
After sipping his coffee, Kaisuke quips, "Well, it's been seven years since my last meal! Can't blame me for being ravenous," before erupting in laughter. He wipes away a tear of mirth; he adds, more seriously, "But honestly, time-travel is to blame. It tends to mess with one's eating habits, among other things."
Confused, Jiraiya asks, "What?"
Although Kaisuke is aware of the probing gaze being directed at him, he also observes a glimmer of earnest attentiveness in the man's eyes, as though he takes the words seriously despite their seeming inanity.
Kaisuke typically is a risk-taker, likes winning his odds, and does so frequently, much to his father's dismay.
He just sees an opportunity, an investment when he looks at Jiraiya. Among the trio of legendary Sannin, it is Jiraiya who has garnered renowned recognition and widespread fame as the Seals Master. While Kaisuke respects his father's and his own teacher, Oro-sensei, the truth remains that Jiraiya's prowess in the art of sealing surpasses that of Oro-sensei himself, as admitted by the very man.
It's Oro-sensei's words to him to chase opportunities. So he places his half-empty mug down and clasps his hands together, resting his chin atop them, fully smiling. He casually repeats, "Time-travel and all that stuff that comes with it. Seriously, now that I think about it, it has been seven years and two days since I last slept."
Jiraiya's smile is tight, eyes half-closed in consideration, "time-travel, you say?"
"Let's start again. Do you believe in mutual benefit, Jiraiya-san?"
The older man leans forward ever slightly, his hands flattened against the wooden table between them, "I find it reasonable, with the right negotiation."
"Good thing then that I'm good at whatever I'm doing. My snake has informed me that a bunch of your ANBU members took my brothers to your village. Send a message to that kage of yours via your frog, immediately. tell him that if he harms my brothers in any way, I promise you that what will be left of his village will be blown away by the wind."
"A threat?" His expression shifts minutely, in a way that's hard to track : A recognition, a consideration, fleeting, endangered. Then a coldness, a familiar expression of any awfully loyal shinobi.
"A promise." Kaisuke smiles widely, all teeth showing, "my father is, undoubtedly, without limits. He's chaotic and restless when provoked. You may choose to underestimate him and suffer the same fate as those who came before you, or you can value your pitiful existence and refrain from crossing him, it's quite simple."
A thoughtful hum. "I suppose that is reasonable. In any case, rest assured, the Hokage will personally ensure their safety under the village's guardianship."
Kaisuke's expression is stern and unchanging, and he repeats, "Inform them," without ever batting an eye or showing any hesitancy. The veil of indifference that had been hovering over him abruptly dissipates. "My family isn't some kind of bargaining chip to force my father into working for your messed up village. They're not your playthings."
The Uchiha's Sharingans flicker, two-tomoed, and brilliantly red.
"Not fully developed." Jiraiya musses, eying the two tomoe laying still in their brightly colored depths. His lip puckers in a dismissive grin, "Alright kid, what is your name?"
The boy huffs, "Kaisuke. Kaisuke Uchiha."
"Hey, listen up! You act like there's something in it for both of us, but it seems like I'm the only one getting the short end of the stick here. I'm the one shelling out the cash, putting up with you, and taking care of your unsatisfied hunger. I've never seen an Uchiha who's such a shameless freeloader. That goes against all the rules of nature."
In a faux toast, Kaisuke lifts his coffee mug and declares, "I'm thrilled to be the first Uchiha to set the record straight for your clueless brain, confirming that we do have characteristics beyond your biased stereotypes. Or maybe it's just my circle. Dunno."
Jiraiya snorts, but there is no mistaking the sharpness in his eyes. Kaisuke reminds himself that this is the very man who is hailed in history as a master of espionage, adept at unraveling the truth from a web of lies. Though his easy-going demeanor may deceive some, Kaisuke recognises the intelligence that lies beneath the surface. He may be foolish, but a cunning fool he truly is. Or so Oro-sensei had said.
Putting his mug down, "Hey, I'm giving you Orochimaru himself! He's worthy of every ounce you have ever given me. So make sure you pass on the message to blondie. And let them know that they better treat my brothers really well.."
Jiraiya's lazy smile quickly fades, replaced by a stern, straight line. "So, you do know him," he remarks. "You claim to be willing to betray Orochimaru, is this some kind of trap, boy?"
Kaisuke shakes his head and chuckles. "No, it's nothing like that, old man," he responds. "In fact, Sensei is inviting you for tea. He's been missing me, and truth be told, I miss him terribly too. That Sensei of mine, so astonishingly young for someone in his seventies or so. Yeah, he's got a knack for switching bodies like changing pants." Kaisuke leans in, he adds, "Alright, let's bounce right now. A reverse summon technique will do. Remember, once we're there, no need to throw down, got it?
Kushina watches with amusement as Minato frustratingly reopens the storage scrolls one last time before sending them to the capital. His eyebrows furrowed in concern, half-expecting a copy of Make-out Paradise to mysteriously appear within his financial reports. At first, he dismissed it as a figment of his imagination, a simple mistake. Yet, it continued to happen repeatedly, both domestically and internationally.
Initially, Minato suspected it to be a insipid prank orchestrated by Jiraiya, but soon the accusing finger was pointed at Kushina herself. This did not amuse Minato in the slightest. He even resorted to subjecting his ANBU to the Yamanaka clan's mind-reading techniques in order to determine if one of them was responsible for this humiliating international ordeal.
They believed it had finally come to an end after a month of silence, until they received word from Asuma in the capital. He claimed to have witnessed the book fall onto the lap of an advisor after opening the scrolls.
This revelation forced Minato to have a serious conversation with Naruto. Kushina couldn't help but worry that her husband's assumptions might be correct, but when they confronted their son, he stared back at them with a bewildered expression, clearly not understanding anything at all.
Naruto had promised his parents that he wouldn't interfere with his father's work, but he struggled to fully understand why Minato insisted that he stop entering the office without their supervision or Kakashi's presence.
This lack of understanding led to Naruto feeling genuinely upset, and he decided to express his frustration through a prank war with his best friend.
The duo decided to defacing the Hokage cliffs with comical and clownish faces. Kushina had erupted into fits of laughter when she heard from Mikoto about their most recent prank. In this particular instance, they had sneakily replaced the incense at the Naka shrine with sleeping herbs, leaving everyone puzzled about their source.
It was an amusing month, until today Fugaku finally had enough and put those two in custody. As soon as she can, she's going to visit the boys and have a good laugh for like ten minutes before bailing them out and taking them for ramen.
"You know what," her husband's eyes flicker at her, "I think we need to design a trap for the traitor. A seal."
She grins and places the lunch box that he forgot to bring with him on his desk. "I'm flattered that you don't suspect me anymore, pretty boy."
Minato whines. "What else do you expect from me? You were cracking up the whole time!"
"It's kinda funny."
He ignores her, mumbling about assembling a team of an Inzuka, an Uchiha, and a Hyūga to be the new messengers to the capital.
The air shifts and Yamato appears kneeling before them, with his cat-like mask still on, "Hokage-sama, urgent report!"
Minato straightens up, clasping his hands behind his back, "What's the situation, ANBU?"
"We have found one of the drifters near Orochimaru's reported hideout. He is a male in his late adolescence, bearing a scar on his lips and wielding a distinct jitte-shaped blade. Currently, he is receiving medical treatment in the hospital due to being poisoned by a Suna-made poison. Additionally, he is accompanied by a five-year-old male named Kazui, an Uchiha."
Kushina takes a sharp breath, her anticipation palpable. Just as the tension builds, the door swings open, and Shikaku Nara walks in. "I just heard..."
The Namikaze couple exchange glances, their hopeful expressions mirroring each other. Kushina's voice quivers as she bites her cheek. "...our savior?"
The thought of the Uchiha man has been a recurring topic of conversation between Minato and Kushina. They often spoke of him while gazing at their sleeping boy. Memories of the man's mismatched eyes, the mixture of awe, fear, and gratitude that left a lasting impression on Minato, are vivid in Kushina's mind.
Sometimes, she finds herself staring at Mikoto or any male Uchiha, even Fugaku, to try to piece together the image of the mysterious figure. But he remained unclear, like an ethereal being, almost godlike.
Minato had described his face as melancholic, firm and expressionless yet that also fleetingly had revealed a trace of vulnerability, but only for a brief moment.
In an attempt to satisfy her curiosity, he even created a shadow clone of the Uchiha man, leaving Kushina in awe. The features of the mysterious savior are unmistakably Uchiha through and through. A proud countenance, a sharp jawline, high cheekbones, and fair skin. Kushina sees glimpses of many Uchiha individuals she has known, but Mikoto's resemblance is the most striking.
Only older, sadder, more jaded.
"I want to meet him," she whispers earnestly.
"Of course," Minato agrees easily, donning his Hokage cloak, he reaches for her hand, and she tightens her grip on him. He tightens back, more gently. They walk alongside Shikaku, a sense of urgency in their stride, but none of them shunshines to see them.
Minato asks, "Have any Uchiha recognized the boy?"
Shikaku takes a moment to shield his face from the autumn glaring sun that peeks through the pregnant clouds, he replies, "I've sent for Fugaku, but he remains skeptical. And truthfully, I can understand his concerns. The circumstances surrounding the boy's discovery in Orochimaru's hideout raise alarming possibilities. He could be a kidnapped child or even a secret clone created by Orochimaru and Danzō."
Kushina scoffs, but The Nara persists. "It's possible, yet uncertain. The boy, Kazui, is undoubtedly an Uchiha but his origins remain a mystery. If not for the existence of ROOT, we wouldn't be questioning this. Nonetheless, the Uchiha clan is integral to the village, their ancestral home, and we've extensively studied their archives to understand their beginnings. The Uchiha have always remained loyal to each other, and since Madara, there haven't been any missing-nin from their clan, unless the rumors are true and Sasuke is actually a descendant of Madara," he pauses, placing a cigarette between his lips and twirling it thoughtfully. "Considering the boy is indeed this Sasuke's, if he weren't, all signs would point towards Danzō. Perhaps he was manipulated or persuaded by members of ROOT. Nonetheless, Fugaku was willing to allow blood tests to determine any potential familial connection."
Kushina makes a face, and her husband's hand squeezes her gently.
They come across Naruto first, his face beaming brightly beneath the sun as he squints up at Kakashi standing on the walls. Meanwhile, Sasuke clings tightly to Itachi, demanding that he train him as he had promised to. Kushina takes a moment to taste the name.
Sasuke, like her boy's savior. Sasuke, like her family's reason to be alive.
Mikoto had shared with her that during the final month of her pregnancy Fugaku had been immersed in studying historical books about the renowned clans. It was during this time that he stumbled upon the section dedicated to the Sarutobi clan and discovered the name Sasuke. Fugaku played with the pronunciation, testing different variations, adding and removing syllables, until he settled on the name as it is— Sasuke Uchiha.
"Boys, how on earth did you manage to bust out of jail?" Kushina asks.
Naruto giggles, "They set us free." For some reason, his chuckles make her strangely emotional, not in a warm way, but as if her heart had been yanked from her wide chest. She ignores the strange feeling— the gaping, yanking pain— and looks at Kakashi.
Minato speaks to him, their eyes locked in a wordless conversation. Kakashi nods in agreement, silently confirming something. Though unspoken, the message is clear; it's him.
Inside the hospital, Fugaku Uchiha and Inoichi Yamanaka stand behind a one-sided window, observing the scene.
Across the room, Tsunade is tending to a young man's leg, the victim of a cut inflicted by a Suna-made poison. Chiyo of Sunagakure was renowned for her expertise in this area.
Kushina's breath catches in her chest as she recognizes the face.
The most noticeable feature is the dull scar on the side of his lip. His hair has a reddish-brown hue, his rich tanned skin contrasting with the old blade marks that adorn his body, visible through the sheets that cover him.
"That's him," she whispers, loud, and they all look at her. "Jushiro."
It's the same young man who looked her in the eyes with pain and begged her to put her faith in him, to trust him, that he's here to help, to make her see the sunlight shine again after that god awful night.
"Anything?" Minato inquires in general. She recognises his tone; he tries to look stoic and ignore the bolt of thrill in his stomach.
The Yamanaka patriarch speaks, "his name is Jushiro. He possesses a heightened awareness of any attempts at investigation. While he can sense my presence, he is powerless to prevent me from delving into his mind. However, I refrained from intruding forcefully. Nevertheless, I managed to glimpse a fragment of a memory. It depicted a man shrouded in black, standing in the rain, with mismatched eyes fixating down on him. Despite its age, this memory holds great importance to Jushiro, as he clings to it tightly."
Minato raises his question once more, his attention focused on the extraction of the thick poison with chakra. "What can you tell me about his little companion?"
Inoichi murmurs under his breath, more to himself than anyone else, "Kazui-kun is quite the —um, character."
Beside him, Fugaku subtly adjusts his position. "Are you referring to the Uchiha boy?"
"Yes, his name is Kazui. That's all I know. The kid has a strong aversion to physical contact from anyone other than his brother. The stress he endured caused his Sharingan to deplete his chakra. Now, the medics are taking care of him. Shisui-kun had kindly volunteered to teach him how to deactivate the Sharingan safely."
Fugaku hums, noncommittal.
At the moment, Tsunade discards her medical gloves and stretches as she exits the room, letting out a yawn. It's clear that Shizune interrupted her time at the bar, considering her expertise in handling Suna-made poisons. And it's evident that the older woman didn't take kindly to being interrupted from her activities.
"Tsunade-sama," Minato starts, "how is Jushiro-san?"
Tsunade pauses momentarily, her eyes focused on the young man as Shizune carefully covers his body. "He's a snake summoner, much like Orochimaru. His blood carries a partial immunity to most poisons. While this poison wouldn't have been fatal to him, it would have left him vulnerable until his body could fully recover from the damage."
"I want to see the boy." Fugaku murmurs. It's surprising that he hadn't asked earlier
Minato nods in response. "Yes, good idea."
Inoichi says, "He's in the private section, with Shisui-kun."
The private section, similar to Jushiro's own room, has a one-sided window that allows them to observe the boy. He appears younger than Naruto, shorter in stature, with bright, piercing eyes and a sharp sneer. He speaks with a hint of disdain, saying, "Stop embarrassing yourself, you permhead idiot. Don't belittle me any further..."
Shisui sniffs, "Kazui-kun, I'm trying to help you."
"You should help yourself by getting a decent haircut."
Kushina snorts.
Shisui reaches his breaking point, his lips pressing tightly together as he mutters something under his breath, sounding like, "Listen here, you little brat."
However, the kid's eyes suddenly snap towards her direction, widening with surprise. He tilts his head in curiosity before raising his chin ever so slightly in defiance. "What's this?" he questions, his gaze seemingly directed towards her, even though there's no possible way for him to see her through the one-sided window.
Kushina decides to test her theory by swapping places with Tsunade. However, to her satisfaction, the kid's eyes continue to track her movement, as if he can see her.
Understanding the unspoken question, she offers an explanation, "The boy is a sensory-type," she pauses, glancing down at the red eyes glaring up at her, "and he has a thick south-eastern accent."
It's bittersweetly familiar to hear the south-eastern accent of islanders and seasiders — the accent of her motherland. Although this is a bit different, there is a slight distinction, a sharper quality that hints at a blend of various regional accents. Nevertheless, at its core, it remains a distinctive south-eastern accent.
The boy extends his finger towards her, tapping on the glass that separates them. His brilliant eyes, adorned with three-tomoe Sharingan, flicker with a mesmerizing intensity.
He counts them loudly, counting the ANBU hidden in the ceiling, then shrugs and looks back at Shisui.
Fugaku's voice carries a whisper, "his eyes have fully developed."
"Yes," Tsunade responds, "and despite continuously using his Sharingan since his arrival, he still remains on his feet."
The boy walks back over to Shisui, an air of childish haughtiness in his gaze. "Hey, premhead," he addresses Shisui, "tell them that I demand to see Aniki."
Shisui lets out a tired sigh, looking upwards as if seeking divine intervention. "Kid, you're like... three years old. Quit talking like that." He pauses, then continues, "Listen, all you have to do is calm down. Nobody is going to harm you or your brother. If you can calm down, you'll be able to turn off your Sharingan easily."
Kazui stares at Shisui for a moment before speaking again. "You seem familiar. I think I saw you on the news."
Shisui blinks, surprised. "There's news about me?"
"Yeah," Kazui replies, looking around. "They were talking about the guy who stole your eye. Oto-san said he killed him once for that. I think he'll have to do it again now that we're here."
Shisui is taken aback. "You're not making any sense."
"Be careful, premhead," Kazui warns, his tone serious. Kushina's heart drops, and the others besides her lean in with alarm as the kid tilts his head slightly, nonchalantly whispers, "He wants your eye for his arm."
She hears Fugaku's jaw clenched loudly, too audible to ignore. She doesn't need to gaze at him to feel the intensity of his glare, fixated on his own reflection in the glass. Minato and Inoichi take in a sharp breath, uneasy. Tsunade remains quiet, her wearied anger still clinging to her since Minato revealed the truth about what Danzō had done to her bloodline, to her loved ones. Yet, even she cannot dismiss the sharp twinge of emotion evoked by the mere mention of his name.
"It doesn't make any sense," Minato says, pressing his hand flat against the glass. "How does he know about the Sharingan in Danzō's arm? It's supposed to be a secret."
The general population is aware that he has accumulated a collection of Sharingan eyeballs stolen from slain shinobi during the war, but they are uninformed that he kept them within his arm. They only know about the one eye he uses beneath the bandage, with the additional eyes discovered later through police investigation.
Minato's grip tightens as he looks towards his adviser, Shikaku, who nods in agreement. "I believe it's worth a try. The knowledge of that is top-secret S-class information and limited to only the higher-ups and the victims' families."
Turning his attention to Inoichi, Minato asks, "Do you think you can extract that information from the boy's mind without causing harm?"
Inoichi responds with confidence, "Yes, Hokage-sama. I can delve into his thoughts without him even noticing. Kazui-kun is at an age where he is observant of his surroundings, even if he lacks a complete understanding of everything that is happening. It's us who can really translate the situations."
Minato directs his gaze towards Fugaku and speaks with empathy, "Fugaku-san, I understand that the boy is your kin and that he is young. Therefore, I am requesting your permission for a thorough investigation. You are welcome to be present by his side throughout the process."
Fugaku gazes at the boy, then back at his Hokage, "Thank you for your understanding and consideration, Hokage-sama. I too want to know how he reached this conclusion, not only for the sake of my clan but also to ensure justice and respect for those who have passed away."
"Alright then," Minato says, nodding in agreement. "Inoichi-san, please make the necessary arrangements to gather the best equipment and prepare for the investigation. We need to ensure that we can enter the young one's mind without him being aware or hurt."
It takes an hour and a half to set up the seal-covered bed within the Intelligence Division. The clan heads, accompanied by three Yamanaka shinobi, the Hokage, and one of the new advisers, gather in a semicircle around the stone table enclosing the bed where the boy sleeps peacefully. Whispered conversations fill the air as Inoichi mentally prepares himself to perform the jutsu.
Kushina, who was one of the new pointed advisors, stands in close proximity to the kid, her hand lightly touching his smooth, tanned skin. She gently smooths his furrowed eyebrows with the tip of her finger.
"Kushina-san," Inoichi whispers.
"Yeah," Kushina says, walking over to take her position behind the semicircle table as Inoichi moves to where she stood before. Placing one hand on the child's forehead, Inoichi lifts his other hand and forms a single, one-handed ram seal in front of his face.
Kushina glances at Minato, noticing his stoic expression. Since the scandal involving Danzō, Minato had to exert more effort to regain both his position and the trust of the village. He had dismissed the old advisers and faced numerous challenges as a result. Minato had even made a promise to bring Orochimaru to face justice.
They flatten their hands on the table once Inoichi nods to them. Soon, the seals on the ground and the table begin to emit a humming sound, causing the surroundings to transform into an endless night sky, adorned with countless falling stars.
"This is the boy's mindscape," Inoichi explains, pointing towards the stars. "These stars represent his memories. Even at his young age, he has subconsciously constructed his own mindscape, and it seems that these stars hold significant importance to him."
Inoichi continues his explanation, gesturing towards the brightest and darkest stars in the mindscape. "One challenge with a mindscape constructed by a child under the age of eight is that they may not yet comprehend what is truly significant or relevant," he remarks.
Moving closer, he reaches out to poke one of the brightest stars, causing the surroundings to shift once again, transforming into a sunny beach.
As they observe, they see the child's legs sinking into the sand, playfully pushing it around with his feet. Finally looking up, the child spots a man standing near the sea, his pants rolled up as the waves crash against him. In the background, obscured by the man's presence, they glimpse the fog-covered walls of Uzui Island.
"Oto-san," the child calls out, rolling a seashell in his hand. "You promised to teach me the fireball jutsu."
The man, who appears much younger than Minato's shadow clone of him, turns to look at the child. His eyes, though familiar with their mismatched colors, lack the Sharingan and instead hold a distant, wistful expression.
Minato catches his breath "That's him, that's Sasuke. But something doesn't feel right."
"You are still too young, Kazui," Sasuke replies quietly. "My own father taught me the fireball jutsu when I was seven, not before."
Sasuke gestures for the child to approach, and with excitement, Kazui runs towards him. But just before reaching him, Sasuke performs a familiar act, lightly poking the child's forehead.
The child whines and complains, Sasuke smiles and whispers, "Maybe later."
Kushina freezes, and Fukagu's eyebrows shoot up in surprise at the recognizable interaction.
Shikaku furrows his brows, agreeing with the Hokage, "Indeed, something is amiss." He points towards a town on the outskirts of the child's vision. "This is Nagi Island, but that town shouldn't exist. It was decimated during the second war."
Hiashi Hyūga tilts his head, considering the situation. "It's possible that this is some form of mind manipulation or a trick of the child's perception."
Inochi interjects, shaking his head. "No, if that were the case, it would be evident to us. Our ability allows us to see the memories as they are, in their rawest unfiltered state, not how the child interprets or distorts them in his mind.."
The memory fades away once more, returning them to the starlit mindscape. Inochi reaches out and lightly touches one of the brightest stars. Suddenly, the mindscape transforms again, this time into a cozy room on the ground floor.
A girl with long, black hair sits by the window, spiders delicately perched on her hair as they gently sway. Her face is obscured by her hair, so they can't see it.
Meanwhile, the child remains seated on the floor near the fireplace, completely enthralled by the sight of the spiders.
A spider summoner, this girl obviously is.
The setting appears to be some sort of tavern, and in the corner of the child's vision, they catch a glimpse of Jushiro behind the bar, idly wiping it with a rag.
As the girl turns to face the child, Kushina is instantly captivated by her beauty. The girl has a sleepy smile on her face. Her eyes are wide and mysterious, with heavy-lidded lids. Her arched eyebrows and aquiline nose add a touch of elegance to her features. On her pale skin, there are three distinct beauty marks.
The girl moves towards the child, yet there's something eerie and spooky about her actions. Each step is elegant, almost unearthly.
"My love, come help me with my hair," she beckons with a tender voice.
Kazui rises from his seat without a word, reaching out his hands as if asking to be lifted. With ease, she scoops him up, his tiny legs wrapping around her waist. One hand grasps at her clothes while he rests his chin on her shoulder, showing them a clearer view of the place.
The girl ascends the steps to the second floor. Upon reaching it, Kazui's eyes venture around the room, taking in the sight of a cozy sitting room.
On one of the comfortable sofas, a teenager is napping. A book rests upon his face, veiling his features from view.
Adjacent to this reclining figure, stacks of books lay untouched, far away from their rightful places on the now-empty shelves.
Pausing mid-step, the girl is drawn towards this scene of orderly disorder.
Shukaku breaks the silence with a sudden undefined sound, shell-shocked, "What is that?"
They look at him and find him pointing at something. Among the disheveled books, one particular title stands out. It lies carelessly beneath the piles, its cover proudly displaying the words, "The History of the Fourth Shinobi War."
"How so?" Tsume murmurs, her eyes still fixed on the resting teenager.
Suddenly, he stirs and lifts the book from his face with a yawn. As his features become visible, they notice a resemblance to the girl, but with distinct differences. He frowns, pointing, "Hey Sayuri, cut it out with leaking that Killing Intent, seriously. I'll clean the mess now.."
"You better be, Kaisuke," Sayuri, the girl, says, a hint of firmness in her voice. "Oto-san is coming tonight."
"Oh crap," the teenager blurts out, jumping to his feet in a sudden rush. Continuing her walk, Sayuri leans in closer to Kazui and whispers, "Try not to take after him."
The boy giggles.
The memory fades away.
Shukaku paces back and forth in the starlit mindscape, his hands clasping behind him as he contemplates. "It said the Fourth Shinobi War! The Third War only just ended seven years ago— even now, the population of Nagi island remains incredibly nonexistent. There's no way that they would have built such a relatively large town in a short period. How is that possible?"
Minato's expression remains unreadable as he addresses The Yamanaka. "Can you filter out the memories? Show only those that pertain to the target subjects and this... Fourth Shinobi War."
"Of course, Hokage-sama," Inoichi responds. He forms a hand seal and suddenly, a web-like structure of light threads appears between the stars. Inoichi then touches one thread after another with his eyes closed. Finally, he pauses, glancing at them, and taps a particular star. The world shifts once again, and now they find themselves in a store.
Kazui's attention is caught by an Uchwa, the Uchiha clan crest, so he sets the pet food down and turns towards the TV. He increases the volume, irritating the shop employee.
"The former students of Tobirama, the second hokage, have been executed," the newsman reports, his tone grave. "Last week, they were found guilty of participating in the Uchiha massacre, the largest historical event to ever occur in the Land of Fire. The Shinobi world has been shaken to its core— a founding clan, shunned and ultimately sentenced to death by one of their own."
Fugaku jolts. "What is this?" He hisses.
The reporter adjusted her papers and continues, "Currently, the other bloodline's limited clans view the extraction of their eyeballs as an act of unnecessary brutality that is unacceptable. However, Shikamaru Nara, the honorable adviser and spokesperson of Konohagakure, has yet to confirm this officially. Some believe that there is a verbal agreement that was delayed after the fourth great war between Kakashi Hatake, the sixth Hokage, and Naruto Uzumaki, the seventh Hokage, with Sasuke Uchiha. Now, it is being called into action to persuade Sasuke Uchiha, the last surviving member of the clan and leader of the infamous Team Taka, to join their side in the looming conflict with the Ōtsutsuki Clan."
"It's crucial to recall that Sasuke Uchiha killed his clanslayers, including his own brother, Itachi Uchiha, and Konohagakure's adviser, Danzō Shimura, all within a week," she says. "Meanwhile, neither the current Hokage of Konohagakure, the Seventh Hokage, nor the last Uchiha has responded to the concerns—"
Fugaku's voice quivers with frantic rage as he whispers, "No, no, no! That's a lie. There's no way. It has to be a genjutsu. I know it." His eyes are burning red with the Mangekyo Sharingan. It's a sight she's never seen before, his anger consuming him. "It can't be, that's a genjutsu. My sons will never…"
Inoichi's gaze fills with sympathy as he reaches out to touch Fugaku, gripping his shoulders firmly and locking eyes with his frantic Sharingan. "It's not a genjutsu, Fugaku. Whatever this is, it's the memory in its rawest and most untainted form. Please, listen to me," he urges.
However, Fugaku slaps his hand away, his anger burning fiercely. He seethes with raw resentment. "No! My sons would never... They would never do any of this... It's those bastards Orochimaru and Danzō, and that useless, good-for-nothing Sarutobi."
Even Hiro Sarutobi, the current Patriarch of the Sarutobi Clan who is present in place of Asuma, remains motionless and makes no effort to defend the elderly man.
"The math is mathing," Shukaku interjects with a darkened expression. "I understand how absurd it may sound, but the book said the Fourth Shinobi War. The island that should have been destroyed during the Second War now has a surprisingly intact village.." he pauses, looking at them, his lips pressed together in a firm line, "This boy, in some way or another, has come from the future, a timeline where Minato perishes, an Uchiha Massacre transpires, and a war erupts and concludes."
In a sudden moment of clarity, the pieces fit together perfectly: the uncanny resemblance Sasuke bears to both Mikoto and Itachi. And now, upon deeper reflection, she can even detect a glimpse of Fugaku within him.
That broken, melancholic man is none other than bright, little Sasuke - her son's best friend, her best friend's younger son, and secretly, her favorite son, as well.
Kushina's hands are trembling. Itachi had slaughtered his clan; Sasuek had killed Itachi in retaliation; and her own family had died.
A heavy silence hangs in the air as they all exchange bewildered glances. Inoichi gathers his resolve and reaches out to Fugaku once more, his trembling hands resting on his shoulders. "Listen, we need to understand how this is happening. Perhaps... I don't know. We will find the reasons, we will investigate how this came to be."
She softly pleads, "Please, Fugaku."
The Uchiha Patriarch inhales sharply, shuts his eyes tightly, and refrains from pushing Inoichi away. When he finally opens his eyes, they gleam a deep, inky darkness.
Inoichi whispers to him, "Are you alright now?"
Fugaku nods once, his expression hard. "Show me," he commands. A whisper.
Inoichi acknowledges with a nod, proceeding to walk towards one of the threads. He repeats this action several times until he finally arrives at one of the brightest stars. Looking at them solemnly, saying, "This particular thread contains a short memory. I believe those stars are what we are looking for, it will show us everything related to the subject in one frame."
Without a moment's hesitation, he swiftly and seamlessly forms three hand seals: the serpent, the ram, and, finally, the ox.
As the world shifts, the scene unfolds in the familiar bar where Orochimaru, the Sannin, only oddly appears younger, sits directly across from Sasuke. Resting between them is a scroll that the Uchiha appears to be engrossed in reading.
Fugaku involuntarily inhales sharply, and Minato leans in to see. However, the child's position is too distant to discern the contents of the scroll.
Tsume sneers, "what the hell is he doing here?"
In the memory, Orochimaru remains composed, calmly sipping his coffee while observing the scene with a discerning eye.
A man with white hair, whom they recognize from the night of the Nine-Tails attack, impatiently inquires, "Well?"
Sasuke takes a momentary pause, his eyes sweeping over his children with a discerning gaze. He watches as Kaisuke shifts uncomfortably, his restlessness reflecting his unease. Kazui hangs his head low, his sniffles are muffled and quiet. On the other hand, Sayuri and her spiders seemingly undisturbed by the somber atmosphere, as she tenderly draws Kazui into her arms. Finally, there is a glint in Sasuke's eyes as he focuses on Jushiro, a spark of something unreadable evident in his gaze.
Jushiro breathes out, "oh, boy."
Sasuke says, closing the scroll, "Time travel it is."
"Whoopee"
The sannin grins.
The room falls into an eerie silence, as if time itself holds its breath. Not a single person dares to meet Fugaku Uchiha's gaze.
A man burdened with the unimaginable weight of the knowledge that his clan was annihilated by his own son's hand, whose younger son slayed his elder brother in an act of retribution.
It is a wretched tragedy.
He died by his son's hand. Kushina is aware that Itachi is his favorite, his pride and joy.
His favourite kid was his future murderer, his wife's future murderer, and his clansmen's future murderer. She wants to puke; she wants to tighten her arms around Naruto and keep him near.
The new memory is a blurry one. As Kazui stirs up from his sleep, he blinks several times, adjusting his vision to the sudden influx of light.
The door suddenly unlocks, and Kazui eagerly sits up, only to see his father, Sasuke, walks in.
"Oto-san," Kazui blinks again, "what's happened? Where are we now?"
"Still in the hideout," Sasuke replies as he settles into the end of the bed. "You've been sleeping for a day and a half now."
"I don't remember it," Kazui narrows his eyes, "it's Kaisuke who genjutsued me, I knew it"
Sasuke pauses, an amused expression on his face. "your brother told me that you knew all along, why didn't you tell me?— Kazui?"
The boy mumbles "I— I don't want to talk about it."
There's a ghost of a smile on Sasuke's face. Kazui opens his mouth, "I—, wasn't."
Sasuke cuts him off gently, looking at a snake-like figure on the wall, "When I was your age. There were murmurs of a coup d'etat among my clan members. I was completely unaware of anything. Thinking about it, I now realize that it's quite understandable for parents and older siblings to shield their young ones from the perils that surround them. Nevertheless, I spent most of my life believing that if they had only shared the truth with me, given me the right to know, my suffering could have been avoided. Many sleepless nights were spent pondering the reasons behind their death. The questions kept my head spinning in a never-ending circle of so many unanswered questions that will remain unanswered until I face my gods. I was filled with rage during my adolescence, and all I ever wanted to do was to kill Itachi, my brother, or die trying."
Fugaku's breath catches in his throat. There's a momentary pause as the rest of the children quietly and sheepishly enter the room. Once they are all gathered around him, Sasuke finally breaks the silence, "I took the life of my very own kin, my brother, whom I both despised and loved. He believed he never had a say in the matter, just as I had no choice but to bear this burden. Though it is painful, I questioned why I should hesitate to fulfill my duty. Is it not the obligation of a son to seek vengeance for his father? And as the sole surviving son of my clan, I represented their final chance at justice. I'm their rightful successor, the very last Uchiha."
Sasuke gazes at his children— it's a too intimate act, too personal, that she feels that they have no right to look at this man in one of his rawest moments. His hand roams over his daughter's head, "You already know what happened. For a long time, I resented my father for throwing Itachi into that mess, and by extension, putting me in mine. But I must admit, deep down I also loved and respected him because he did what he had to do in the face of all that segregation and hostility. Konoha's higher-ups at his time were unreasonable anyway; their Hokage even admitted it to me during the fourth war when I revived them," he pauses again. He then adds slowly, "My father was truly an excellent leader, but he wasn't exactly the best father, even though he cared about us deeply. Dealing with him was always a battle, and I despised falling short of his impossibly high expectations. A perfectionist to the bone. He would've really loved you because you're the exact definition of what he wanted us to become."
Allowing a spider to walk through his finger to his daughter's hair, he continues, "After discovering the truth, I took justice into my own hands and confronted the man responsible for the downfall of my clan. He urged me, no— Danzō begged me like the dog he is to join him, such a miserable little worm , and I found myself laughing till my ribs hurt. Sometimes, I can't help but remember his final moments through my sharingan.. He didn't want me to have the satisfaction of ending him once and for all. He resorted to taking his own life with a self-destruction seal, hoping to bring me down with him. Yet, the fact that I had forced him to that point, just as he had forced my family towards their downfall, brought me a morbid sense of satisfaction. He wasn't the only one who deserved punishment, though. There were two others who also needed to be held accountable, and I wanted to make it happen. They did, after almost a decade, when their death meant nothing to me."
"And those are Homura Mitokado and Koharu Utatane?" Kaisuke asks, "The two that were executed a week ago."
Sayuri pushes herself up, weaving a hand dismissively "Good riddance, I say. A victory is a victory"
Jushiro grins, "Should we celebrate that you outlived them all, old man?"
"I mean, he did, but then he didn't.. they're still alive in the era, Aniki." Kaisuke points out, glancing at Sasuke's inscrutable expression.
Sasuke's lone hand tightens around his youngest son's hand again. "Love, sometimes, is a dangerous thing. It's more powerful than logic or reason. That's why my father chooses to fight for the sake of our clan, for the sake of his family and loved ones. And that's why my brother chooses to betray our father for my sake and for that shithole of a village. He loved me more, unwanted as it is. He did what he had to do for his little brother because he knew I wouldn't survive the rebellion, that I would be the first target to break our family's resolve."
Sasuke looks at Jushiro, who is sitting on the floor and leaning against the bed. "That's why I refused to return to the village or put you in a position where you would constantly be defensive and worthless, no matter how much you assist others. When I moved on from my past, my priorities changed. It's all about you now, and I pledge to make the world a better place for you," his Sharingan flashes with intensity. "We are in the past, where we do not belong, nor where I intended us to be. But still, our original timeline is too limited to do anything about the situation it faces. And we can't go back in time to our timeline, not without thoroughly understanding how I can do it anyway. For that, Orochimaru proposed to have Kaisuke as a disciple; he was my master once for two years, and you both share the same...interests."
Kaisuke pulls a face, offended. "Now, why would you— I hate the way you said it."
Once again; The memory transports.
The young child sits silently, a snake coiled in his lap, as he gazes into the flickering flame before him. A figure, barely noticed in the periphery of his vision, approaches them. As the person draws closer, Kazui's attention shifts to him, and they recognizes the unmistakable visage of Orochimaru.
Orochimaru speaks, his voice filled with an eerie calmness. "Kazui-kun, it is time to have your dinner. Your father would be disappointed if you neglect your sustenance."
Kazui mumbles, "I don't want dinner."
Orochimaru pauses, his golden eyes fixed on the young boy before him. There is a strange intensity in his gaze as he poses a question. "Do you fear for your father, child?"
Kazui shifts uncomfortably. He remains silent, choosing not to answer the probing question.
Meanwhile, a man with distinctive light blue hair enters the scene. Leaning against the walls, he observes the interaction between the legendary Sannin and the youngest Uchiha with an air of indifference. His eyes are gold, Kushina notes, like Orochimaru's.
Orochimaru's head tilts ever so slightly as he delicately lifts one of the snakes from Kazui's lap, his gaze fixated on the reptile. He murmurs softly, almost to himself, "Undoubtedly, Sasuke Uchiha is the strongest man alive. It is his enemies who you should fear for them, not the other way around."
The man's words cut through the silence, "you seem hopeful." He casually places a cigarette in his mouth, causing Kazui to flinch at his demeanor.
Orochimaru, unfazed by the man's comment, smiles knowingly. "I'm, actually. He is, without a doubt, the strongest man alive. Even at the age of fifteen, he nearly brought the world to its knees. The Sage of the Six Paths himself acknowledged his exceptional power."
Kazui's eyes follow Orochimaru as he walks away to one of the shelves. He asks the nameless man, "What do you know about Sasuke Uchiha?"
"Other than his role in winning the war, I know as much as you do, I wager even less,"
Orochimaru hums softly to the man, picking a random book, he adds, "A man who is willing to protect what is dear to him at any cost is a man to be feared. When Sasuke was young, consumed with anger and recklessness, he was truly awe-inspiring. I even considered him my legacy, I still do. If I had died in that war, I would have found a way to return just to witness what he would accomplish."
As Orochimaru continues to gather a collection of scrolls, his gaze falls upon the young man before him. He muses, "In this era, the power wielded by pawns surpasses that of our own time. I believe we have a greater chance of winning this war, thanks to the presence of the strongest shinobi who is finally willing to join our side— Unlike our previous fighters, Sasuke possesses all the necessary tools to defeat the Ōtsutsuki threat, especially once I convince him to accept the hand replacement. Furthermore, there are many other individuals whose lives and values Sasuke will undoubtedly shape and reform for the better. Look at him closely, Log. He's the key to the future."
— Okay, thought? Ideas?
— Who is your favorite character in this chapter?
— I've noticed that there are some people who aren't big fans of Jushiro's existence. Personally, I think those readers totally missed a major theme that the characters keep talking about all the time from their own POV, even Sasuke himself. It's all about projection, you know? Just like how Canon!Kakashi projects into Sasuke, etc. Jushrio plays a big part—he's not an Uchiha by blood, and on top of that he's a rejected illegitimate child of some nameless nobleman. Just the fact that he exists challenges and causes character growth for Fugaku and the older Uchiha clan members.
— the fanarts are of Jushiro and Kazui. (picrew) are in the same chapter in ao3 (Azyan)