Shit's getting serious, yo.
19
You ever have that feeling when you just know something is about to go horribly, horribly wrong?
Yeah, that's hitting me pretty hard right now.
Why?
Uchiha Shisui is dead.
And the Uchiha Clan Massacre is soon to follow.
A nearly palpable tension hung over the village, strong enough that the local Darkness was absolutely charged with it, more so than any other emotion. It was strong enough that even the civilians seemed to be subconsciously feeling it, to say nothing of the Ninja, who were far more sensitive to such things. They were like cats, particularly skittish cats that had just been dunked in water.
Even after the night had fallen, it only continued to build, compounding upon itself again and again.
The worst part of it all was not knowing. This would be much easier to bear if I had known precisely when it would happen, but I didn't.
Mentally, I sighed.
Then again, even if I did know when, there was still the question of what I would do.
Do I try to interfere? Do I let it play out like in canon?
If it went the way of canon, the entire clan would die, Sasuke would lead a life of vengeance, Itachi would go on to join the Akatsuki; eventually relaying the information back to Jiraiya, and Konoha in turn.
So many things could change if I tried to interfere, so many things could go worse.
And at the same time, so many things could go better.
Even if I did try to make things better, could I?
Itachi was an extremely powerful Shinobi, a fucking ANBU Captain at the age of 13. Tobi was even stronger than that.
Me?
I wasn't. I was strong, sure. Stronger than any civilian, most Genin and a fair amount of Chunin, but that didn't compare to an ANBU Captain. My claws were sharper than they had any right to be, but I was no where near skilled enough to use them on an ANBU Captain. I was faster than a fairly large amount of people, but that still couldn't compare to an ANBU Captain.
Itachi was out of my league. Way out of my league.
I needed speed. And I needed skill.
But I didn't have speed, nor did I have skill. Not yet.
I had only two advantages in the way of raw combat.
The first was durability. There was nothing, nothing, in this village that was harder to kill than I was. Nothing else that was harder to put down for any appreciable length of time. If I went after them, they'd simply never be able to keep me down, never be able to stop me from hunting them.
They had to rest. I didn't.
The second advantage I had was, ironically, in stealth. I didn't have any Chakra, which meant that they couldn't sense me. They'd never know I was coming, if they didn't see me.
A sneak attack was an option, but if I failed?
If I failed, I wouldn't get the opportunity for another one. Simplicity itself.
My claws were sharp; more than capable of rending apart flesh, bone and cloth. I'd used them to part metal just as easily as I sliced wood and stone. I'd wager that they were capable of cutting damn near anything that wasn't a Keyblade, or another piece of Darkness (or Light).
If I had to attack, it would have to be from behind, from the shadows. I'd have to aim for something vital, something that would cripple or outright kill them.
The spine was an option, along with the neck and the heart. The Heart was an option, but I'd never tried to even touch someone's Heart, yet.
I sighed.
Soon, all too soon, I would have to make a decision.
I was running out of time, and time was not something I had much of.