Asami sat under a tree towards the compound's outer walls, the afternoon sun warming her lower half and bare feet. Her sandals were kicked off beside her without much of a care as she thumbed through a book, dark eyes narrowed in concentration on the pages. Birds chirped overhead without a care in the world, a light summer breeze drifting through the branches.

Really, it would have been a nice day—that is, if it weren't for the pesky boy that liked to torment her on almost a daily basis.

The book was snatched from her hand and held up high, dangling it like out in front of her like it was a doggy treat. Kousuke Uchiha smirked at her, curly black hair wild and all over the place. The light wind only made his hair even messier and made him appear more mischievous. His face was a bit more sun-kissed than the rest of the clansmen, along with a single beauty mark under his right eye. Made him look quite unique, honestly.

"Give it back." Said Asami flatly as she held her hand out for him, not in the mood to play any games.

Since her father had left days ago, she wasn't much for a playful mood. Her worry was too prominent for her to let loose.

"Let me think..." Kousuke leaned forward, hair dangling over his eyes as he maintained eye contact with her. He folded his hands behind his back, book in one of them while the other was clasped around his wrist. He pursed his lips, seeming to be thinking for a moment, before lightly blowing into Asami's face, making her scrunch her nose. "No."

Asami rolled her eyes. "You're such a pest. I think you forget you're older than me sometimes, Kousuke-san, and that you're supposed to act like it."

"It's Kousuke-kun to you, Asami-chan! And while I may be older, that doesn't mean I can't have any fun with a cutie like you, now does it?" He tilted his head to the side innocently, flashing her a bright smile. His eyes crinkled at the corner from the sheer size of his grin.

Asami huffed, scowling at her clan mate.

Kousuke was the son of an advisor to Tajima, which in turn, allowed him to be in a bit of a cushier class within the clan. He hung around her and her cousins often and was good friends with Kano and Wataru, but for whatever reason, he liked to pay her special attention. Special attention, as in doing whatever he could to get a reaction out of the girl.

Asami was not fond of it.

He was only three or so years older than her. Eleven. Yet even though he was three years her senior, he still acted like he was no more than six. His immaturity irritated her to no end. Asami could have fun, and she could be silly, but he was plain aggravating.

"Now what are you reading anyway?" He plopped down on the ground, sitting crisscross. Pursing his lips, he opened the book to the first page. He read it for a moment before his nose crinkled in an animated manner. "What is this garbage?"

"It is not garbage." Hissed Asami, snatching it back from him. She held the book close to her, frown twitching at the corner of her lip as she eyed the dark-haired boy with a distasteful look. "It's a story of a female traveler, who helps those in need on her journey. How is that garbage?"

"Stories written about girls doing that sort of thing is stupid." He amended, crossing his arms arrogantly.

Her eyes narrowed. "What are you trying to say?"

"I think it's pretty obvious." He closed his eyes, a smirk curling at his lips. "Girls aren't capable of that sort of thing. It just doesn't make sense. Boys are the ones to help those in need. Boys are the heroes, while the girls stand behind the boys and act as their support. Nothing more—"

Thwap!

Kousuke gasped, cradling his reddened cheek, mouth wide in shock.

Asami stood over him, the book held in her hand and dark eyes filled with anger. He shrunk down underneath her burning gaze, but she didn't dial it down even in the slightest. She was too caught up in the moment to even consider the frustrated driven words pouring from her mouth.

"You have some nerve speaking like that to me, or any other girl that way! I don't know why, but I'm always surprised by how dumb you are! Girls are fully capable of doing anything a boy can. And the fact you feel the need to put girls down and make yourself seem better only proves how stupid you are." She lowered her hand to her side, gritting her teeth. The hand wrapped around her book didn't loosen, knuckles still paper-white. "Now I'll be going. If you want to apologize for your rude words, I'll be at home."

She didn't even give him a chance to respond, turning on her heel and stomping away from the shocked boy who was still cradling his cheek. With her chin held high, she clenched her fists at her side and began her walk home, passing through the main part of the compound.

Kousuke wasn't a mean boy, she knew that, he was just annoying. Why he decided to say something like that so out of the blue was confusing, but she was too mad that he had said it at all. Where did he get off saying things like that? It made her so mad.

There weren't many people walking the streets, which was sort of odd. It was a Sunday afternoon. There wasn't anything else going on that would pull everyone's attention away, but most were indoors, or... or at the clinic at the end of the road?

Her anger fizzled away, watching as people sprinted in and out of the building. She could hear shouts all the way from where she stood, which really, was not a good thing. Loud commotions were not a thing in the Uchiha compound unless there was a celebration happening, or a mission had gone terribly wrong. It seemed this was the latter of the two.

Her heart tugged in her chest.

Her Tou-san couldn't be in that clinic, could he? He... he was on a mission. But he only left a couple of days ago. She hadn't heard anything had gone wrong. Unless... unless...

Spotting Madara outside of the clinic, she sprinted up to him. In a panic, she tugged on his sleeve, eyes wide. "Madara-nii! What's happening?"

He looked down at her, blinking slowly at the sight of one of his younger cousins. There was a flash of conflicting emotions in his eyes before the corner of his lip twitched downward. Asami felt another tug on her heart. She wasn't sure she was going to like his answer.

"Come with me."

He turned and walked into the clinic, expecting her to follow. She didn't hesitate, doing as she was told. Healers ran around inside, shouting for help and calling for different medical supplies. She hugged the book to her chest as she walked behind Madara, looking around at the injured clansman being taken care of on beds lining the hallways. The place was in complete chaos.

They came to a stop at the end of the hall. Rooms filled with patients lined the hall, the shoji doors closed.

Asami blinked at her older cousin in confusion, wondering why he'd brought her inside, and why he was stopped in front of a specific door. But she had a feeling as to why. Asami had always been a more intuitive child. She just... hoped it wasn't what it seemed.

"The mission Daichi-jii left for three days ago. He returned with two other shinobi and my brothers, but they were all terribly wounded. Daichi managed to get them medical attention, and they'll live with no lifelong issues..." He paused, before raising his hand to place it gently on top of her head. "Your Tou-san on the other hand... I'm so... I am so sorry..."

The book slid out of her hand and hit the floor with a loud smack. She stared at Madara's navy blue yukata, lips parted and eyes wide. A chill ran down her spine, and a sudden feeling of sickness rose in her throat. She was going to puke. The room suddenly felt very small, and she wanted to be anywhere but standing in front of the door her father was mortally wounded behind.

"You should go inside and speak with him while he's still conscious. Hana will be here soon. I had Izuna fetch her."

Her chest hurt so much. It was suffocating. Her lungs felt like they were being filled with water, and she was fighting for some sort of air. Some sort of relief. It was soul-crushing.

She raised the back of her sleeve to her mouth to choke back a dry sob. Her breaths came in and out unevenly. In. Out. In. Out. She couldn't focus. Her vision was beginning to blur, and she didn't even realize the hot tears pouring down her face. She was pulled into Madara's chest, his arm wrapped around her as she cried hysterically. She grabbed at his yukata for dear life, almost afraid that if she were to let go of him, he'd disappear too.

"Hey..." he ran his hand down the back of her hair, attempting to comfort her as she continued to cry. Cry in agony. Cry in the heart sweltering pain she was experiencing.

It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair!

Why was her Tou-san dying?!

Slowly, he pulled away, eyes sad. They reflected a sense of empathy as they looked at her. Knew exactly what she felt like. But he wasn't going to allow her to make the same mistake he had.

"Let's go inside."

Asami shook her head, sniffing in a pathetic attempt to calm her tears. "N-no! I can't!"

He looked down at her, an apathetic expression on his face. Asami squeezed her eyes shut, tears rushing down her reddened cheeks.

"Asami, listen to me." He coaxed, squatting to her level.

He placed a hand on the side of her head, gently stroking her hair to will her to open her eyes. Slowly, she did. Madara frowned at the heart-shattering pain in her dark pupils, but nevertheless, he continued with what he was wanting to say.

"When my Kaa-san died, I was heartbroken. She was very, very sick. In her last few moments, all my brothers went into her room and said their final goodbyes. One by one, they all said their final words to the woman who we all loved very, very much." He closed his eyes, pained at the thought of what he was about to share. "I didn't go inside. I couldn't. The thought of my Kaa-san, the woman who was so strong and loving, reduced to death from an illness... I couldn't bring myself to see her."

He sighed, the hand stroking her cheek pausing.

"I've regretted not saying goodbye to her since that day. If I could have anything, it would be the chance to see her one last time. Tell her how much I loved her, and how I wanted nothing more than to make her proud."

Asami sniffed, wiping at the side of her face.

She could see the pain in his eyes. It looked as crushing as her own. His unfaltering regret at not getting to say goodbye. He never said goodbye to his mother, and he would be dammed if he let her make the same mistake too.

Asami didn't want to lose that either. She didn't want to lose the chance to tell her father how much she loved him. They may have fought over trivial things such as shinobi training, but she loved him so much.

Madara nodded, standing up. Slowly, he opened the door and gently ushered her inside with a hand on her shoulder. Reassured by her cousin's firm grip, she was able to bite back a few of her tears in an attempt to appear strong for her father.

The room was dark, dimly lit by two candles on the bedside. Her father lay on a bed in the middle of the room, legs covered by a thin linen sheet. He wore no shirt, bandages covering his midsection. Though they didn't seem to really be doing much, deep red blood seeping through the once white medical tape at a ridiculous pace.

Asami's lower lip quivered, the sight of her father appearing so weak before her making her want to empty her stomach of her breakfast. She didn't like seeing her father like this. He was strong. He was happy. He was silly. Not... not sad and weak.

She backed up, but Madara's body didn't allow her to turn and leave the room. She leaned against his body, soaking up his warmth, attempting to calm her nerves.

She wanted to be strong for her father. She wanted him to know she was going to be okay. That... that she was going to take care of Hana, and that she would be strong for the both of them. That he didn't need to worry about them. She was going to be strong. She wasn't going to be weak.

Noticing her presence, her father lifted his head slightly from the pillow drenched in sweat. Gesturing for her to come closer, he forced the corners of his lips into a smile, though Asami wasn't oblivious to his painful twitching. "Asami..."

Madara gave her a gentle push on the shoulder. Slowly, she stepped forward, movements feeling robotic as she did so. She came to his bedside and took ahold of his limp hand, curling her small fingers around his sweaty ones. Tears stung at the corners of her eyes as she glanced down at the bandages and bedding continuing to turn a deep red.

Daichi opened his mouth to say something to her, but she cut him off with a firm shake of her head. She closed her eyes tightly and took a deep breath, tightening her grip on his hand. "Don't worry about Hana and I, Tou-san. I'll take care of her. I'll be strong. I'll get strong so nothing happens to her. So strong. Okay? You don't have to worry. I'll make sure nothing happens to her. Y-you—"

She choked on a sob, tears rushing down her reddened cheeks. Daichi smiled sadly, running his thumb slowly over her small hand. Weakly raising his other arm, he pulled it around her neck and brought her into his chest, holding his oldest daughter tight. Tears drifted down his cheeks as he held her.

"My strong little girl… I love you and your sister so, so much. You're so strong. You mother would be so proud of you. I'm so sorry you have to see me like this."

She sobbed again. "Please don't say sorry, Tou-san. It's not your fault."

The door slammed open, and in rushed Hana, eyes wide and tears already running down her face.

Unlike Asami, who had been afraid to even step into the room, she threw herself at Daichi, crying hysterically into his neck. He took his hand out of Asami's and wrapped it around Hana's shoulders, holding both of his daughters on either side of his body.

Madara and Izuna met each other's eyes, sadness reflected between the both of them. Deciding to leave the family to themselves to say their last goodbyes, Izuna stepped out, and Madara followed after, closing the door behind him.

"I love you two so much." He whispered, closing his eyes. "You two stay together, you understand me? Protect each other and love each other… you're all the other has left now."

Asami looked up and gave her father a firm nod even through her tears, Daichi smiling tentatively at her. Hana only continued to cry into his chest, barely acknowledging that he had said something.

The last moments between the small immediate family were full of tears and wishes for more time. But sadly, they weren't granted that. Daichi passed within the hour.

His funeral was held the next day. Having been such an important member of the family, practically the entire clan showed up, dawned in black yukatas. Her father was not just a respectable shinobi, but a loved person by the clan. Many people knew of his kind nature and his devotion to the Uchiha. Members were gathering not just to mourn the loss of someone belonging to the main family, but the loss of a caring individual who impacted many.

Kano and Wataru were there as well, standing beside Izuna and Madara. They were bandaged up, not making it out of the mission unscathed either. Tajima was there as well, his face even and unemotional. Asami knew he wasn't sad about her fathers death. He never thought he was a suitable father for his sisters children.

Asami just wanted her father back. It was comforting to see how many people showed up to show their respect for her father. The entire clan was feeling the loss.

The unity made her feel less alone.

Now that their only remaining parent had passed, Asami and Hana were forced to move into the main household. Tajima was their closest living relative who was old enough to look after the girls.

Asami wasn't fond of the new living arrangements. She never really liked Tajima all that much. Especially because she knew of his ill feelings toward her father.

Tajima often referred to Daichi as a pathetic excuse of a man for letting his wife die, allowing the pain of his sister's death to cloud his opinion. Not that Asami could really do anything about it. She may have been young, but she wasn't blind or ignorant of those around her. Especially not when it had come to her father's passing. Tajima wasn't sad. He didn't grieve. Not in the slightest. If anything, he seemed eager to take the girls into his household and raise them the way he deemed fit.

Not that Asami would allow him to sway her beliefs about anything her father had already taught her. Over her dead body would she allow his image to be tarnished by her bitter uncle.

She didn't talk too much to anyone besides Hana or her cousins. Asami practically pretended Tajima wasn't her guardian and only addressed him as such when speaking directly to the man in question. Otherwise, she didn't really leave her room or bother anyone. She didn't want to. She didn't have the energy to.

At first, she was in denial of the fact he died. She expected to walk home and find him tending to his silly little aloe vera plants. Yet she would wake up every morning and find them sitting on the floor by her vanity, and not in the kitchen where her father used to read to them to get a laugh out of Hana. Hana always thought it was the funniest thing he would read to his plants. Thinking about the happy memory made her heart hurt.

But after three weeks of coming home to the main Uchiha household, eating nothing but tasteless, hollow bowls of white rice, and retiring to bed, she realized Daichi was actually gone. He was gone. Her father was dead.

That... that only made her angry. So, so angry.

Why did her father have to die? Why was it her family that had to suffer? Her father was a great man, full of smiles and laughter for his two daughters, despite losing the love of his life in the process of gaining those girls. He was an amazing person. He was full of strength. She wanted him to be there for her first fireball. She wanted him to teach her to throw a kunai. Yet... yet he wouldn't get to.

Sitting in her bed, Asami tangled her fingers in her hair and tugged on the roots, squeezing her eyes shut as angry, hot tears ran down her cheeks. She squeezed her eyes shut, clenching her jaw at the searing pain deep in her chest. A gurgling scream bubbled in her throat, but she didn't fully let it out, it sounds almost like a strangled growl. Her head ached, chunks of hair beginning to tear painfully from her scalp.

It wasn't fair!

Why did her dad have to die?

"Asami!"

She shook her head from side to side, squeezing her eyes even tighter. She wanted to answer the voice—she wanted to focus on something else besides the searing pain searing through her body, but it was so, so much. Everything hurt so much. She just wanted it to stop!

Arms wrapped around her body and pulled her hands from her hair. She continued to cry, sobbing almost hysterically now, the pain seeming to increase as her one sense of relief, hurting herself, was taken from her. But whoever was hugging her didn't seem to care that she was rubbing snot and drool into their clothes. They only continued to pet her hair and whisper quiet, gentle things to her, rocking slowly.

Finally, Asami managed to calm down, her loud cries reducing to small sobs mixed with the occasional hiccup. She grabbed ahold of the light blue yukata belonging to her comforter, and slowly lifted her head.

She was met with the sight of Izuna, who looked just as pained at her tears. Only, his face didn't look normal. It looked strange... obscured almost. She could see the chakra within his body, and it would have startled her more if she wasn't so exhausted from her grieving.

Her eyes faintly itched now too, and they hadn't done that before after crying.

Ignoring the strange sensation, she had a death grip on his yukata as he laid down on her bed, cocooning her smaller body within his own. He adjusted his head on her pillow, before gently petting her hair, heart aching at the physical proof of her pain.

Izuna wasn't confused in the slightest. He knew why the world probably looked so odd to her. And in a way, he wished she didn't have to bear the weight of such a thing.

There was no way he could keep something like this from his father. Once Tajima knew she unlocked her kekkei genkai, she would be thrown into her training with no remorse. With Asami's current mental state, he wasn't sure she would be able to handle the pressure.

"Asami," he said lowly. "Don't tell anyone of your eyes for now. I'll... I'll handle it. Keep it between us."

Asami didn't say anything in response, but Izuna knew she understood and would keep to her word, even as her eyes slowly closed and she fell asleep.

Izuna gave her a month. A month to attempt to regroup before he finally caved and told Tajima about Asami awakening the Sharingan. She wasn't shown any mercy either, thrown into her training head first. In the free time they had, she was taught mostly by Madara and Izuna. During the times they were busy, her training was handed over to Izanami.

Like Izanami's namesake, who was the deity of life and death, her mother was weak and sick when she gave birth to her. This resulted in the woman's death mere months after her birth. Izanami was the youngest of four children, three of those being brothers, her father only thought it was right for her to be named after the goddess. She'd delivered her mother's death, but along with that, her life was given to her.

Asami couldn't tell if Izanami liked her name. She knew if she'd been named something like that for her mother's death in childbirth, she would have hated it. But Izanami was... a rather cold person. It was hard to tell if she even had emotions sometimes.

Today was one of those days where Madara and Izuna were busy. So, unfortunately, she was subjected to Izanami's torture.

"Not like that."

The teenager swatted the back of Asami's wrist, clicking her tongue. She reached out with her long fingers and adjusted Asami's hand, turning the kunai in her grip. She stepped behind the younger girl and pointed outward at the target laying not even three meters away.

"Now try."

Setting her jaw, Asami pulled her hand back, before flicking it outward and releasing the kunai from her hand. It flew at a faster speed than before and actually managed to hit the target, though it was one of the outer rings. Not that it wasn't an improvement. Especially in comparison to the four other kunai laying in the grass from her earlier attempts.

"Your aim is sloppy." Chided Izanami. She crossed her arms and flicked her chin out. "Now gather the Kunai so we can start again."

Asami curled her lip in displeasure, but walked out anyway and did as she was told. Izanami observed the young girl, and couldn't help but let out a loose sigh at her lack of urgency in her movements.

Izanami was fifteen, a year older than Madara. She was quite pretty too, and if it weren't for her cold mannerisms she probably would have been engaged already. Her black hair was long, hanging to her mid-back. Part of it was pulled back into a ponytail, resting on top of her loose hair, along with bangs cut straight across her forehead. Her face was pale and blemish-free, except for the beauty mark at the corner of her mouth.

Asami would have thought she was prettier too, that was if she wasn't so heartless.

Not that Asami could particularly blame her. She'd been a bit more bitter since her episode with Izuna, the feeling of anger in her stomach not showing any signs of going away. Even the little things tended to set her off. Especially Izanami's annoying critiquing.

"What?" Snapped Asami, returning to the teen's side to begin throwing again.

Izanami regarded her with a cool look. Asami didn't back down, continuing to glare daggers at the tall girl. Izanami's expression didn't even twitch as she reached out and flicked Asami on the forehead. The young girl dropped the kunai in her hand and slapped her palm to the stinging skin. She opened her mouth like a gaping fish but didn't say anything.

Izanami looked at her apathetically. "Don't act like a spoiled brat."

Asami's face began to darken. "I am not acting like a spoiled brat."

"Untrue." She cocked her head to the side, looking down at the little girl whose face was turning a deeper shade of red from anger as the seconds ticked by. "You're giving unnecessary attitude to someone who's only trying to train you to become a better shinobi. You're lucky you even get the opportunity to be a ninja in a profession dominated by men. If anyone else had it their way, you would be washing the laundry or learning to take care of children. Nothing more."

Asami opened her mouth to retaliate, but Izanami cut her off, holding her hand out to indicate she needed to be quiet. Her eyelids fluttered closed before she spoke apathetically. "If you wish to protect your sister so she doesn't suffer the same fate as Daichi-sama, I suggest you take things more seriously and accept help when it is given to you."

Asami flinched at the cold words. But Izanami slowly opened her eyes and stared down at the girl, waiting for her response. She understood she was in pain. She understood the anger and bitterness that came from losing a close family member. But it didn't mean she was going to pardon her rude behavior.

"Unfortunately you have to learn from a young age, Asami-chan, that the world does not care how kind of a person you are, or how many people rely on you back home." She crossed her arms and continued to maintain an even stare. "The only thing you can do is get strong, so you can fight against the unfairness of the world. Do you understand? You want to protect your sister, don't you?"

Asami clenched her fist, digging her fingernails into the palm of her hand. Her hand trembled with anger. Angry at how right she was. That the world didn't care how amazing her father was. The world didn't care that Hana and Asami needed him alive.

But Asami knew she could get strong and push back against the world. Because like hell she would allow her younger sister to face another loss like their father. She didn't want Hana to ever feel lain like that again. And if it meant she had to bear all the pain herself so Hana didn't have to, then so be it.

She gave a firm nod. "Yes."

The corner of Izanami's lip quirked up. "Good. Now, throw the kunai again."