"Legends never die.

When the world is calling you,

Can you hear them screaming out your name?

Legends never die,

They become a part of you."

-Legends Never Die, Against the Current

Obito sat leisurely on a rock. The bodies of what were once the Hokage's elite Anbu guard surrounded him.

Black Zetsu's upper body emerged from the ground in front of him. "The Yellow Flash took the jinchūriki and some Uchiha woman with him," it reported. "He left an old woman with the baby. She shouldn't be too hard to take down."

Obito stood and brushed himself off. "I'm not going after her. The child is utterly useless to our plans."

Why did he need the newborn when he already knew where the jinchūriki was?

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.

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Obito appeared in the middle of the Hokage's safehouse. The jinchūriki spotted him first, laying back in a bed and clutching her stomach. He watched her eyes widen, dark circles shadowing them, her exhaustion obvious.

"Mikoto, in front of you—!"

Red eyes blazed in his direction. The Uchiha matriarch stood, three tomoe spinning slowly at him. Three senbon left her hand before she was fully on her feet. One for the artery in his neck, one for his eye, the third for the artery in his wrist.

Anyone else would find them difficult to dodge, being in a contained space like this. The senbon phased through him and struck the wall.

The Uchiha woman paused, but Obito's eye lingered on the jinchūriki. She was struggling to sit up, panting hard, and a part of himself he thought long buried surfaced briefly.

A memory of a woman grinning at him. Kushina. "You're Minato's student, right? You're so cute, you know!"

It would've been easier facing Minato. Him becoming the Fourth Hokage made him an enabler of the system this fake world cherished. A system that sent naïve children to war and cared not if they lived or died as long as the mission was complete.

But what had Kushina done to deserve what he would do to her?

She was one of the first to be kind to him. She invited him over for dinner. Obito had so much blood on his hands, so many that asked him why as he took their lives. What would she do if she knew that her kindness led to this? What would she say if she knew about the child he'd killed in Amegakure the same way that Kakashi killed Rin—

Oh. He remembered now.

Rin had killed herself to protect this corrupt system, so terribly brainwashed by it that she thought that it was Kirigakure's fault she had been sent on a mission she was in no way prepared for. This entire world was rotting and soaked in blood. It was far too late to salvage it. Yes, it was better to start over entirely, to make a new one.

Any reformation of the system of this world would be met with shinobi and kunoichi convinced that the system that killed them was right and just. Clans willing to do anything and everything to maintain their status.

Right. Regardless of prior affiliation, the jinchūriki was a necessary stepping-stone to achieve his goal. That was all. If he didn't continue down this path he would be complicit in the darkness of this world, and that wouldn't do.

What felt like minutes in his head was only a second or two outside of it.

"You look unwell," Obito told the jinchūriki, secure again in the role he was meant to play. "What's the matter? Seen a ghost?"

She didn't understand, of course. But the Uchiha woman, well, her sharingan could probably pick up the mangekyou hidden behind his mask. By her narrowed eyes and paling face, she knew already. Her inferior sharingan was no match for his.

She blocked his view of the jinchūriki anyway. "You won't have her," she said. "Find someone else to use for whatever you intend to do."

Obito tilted his head. "Oh, is that right?"

If she tried to escape on her own, Obito might just let her. Pursuing her would be a waste of time, and all the ninja in the world couldn't reach him before the Yellow Flash could.

"Don't be a hero, you idiot!" the jinchūriki shouted, trying to push her away.

The Uchiha woman didn't budge. Senbon flashed between her fingers.

Obito shrugged. "If you insist." He broke into a run.

The Uchiha tried to cast an illusion on him with little other choice, because the signature jutsu of their clan would do more harm than good indoors. Obito broke it without breaking stride and without ever seeing what she intended to show him.

Her fist and the senbon attached passed harmlessly through his chest. Obito's eye locked on the senbon, noting the dull blue glow of chakra around them.

The Uchiha woman twisted back, trying to put space between them, but the back of her leg hit the edge of the bed and Obito caught her arm, twisting until she cried out. The senbon clattered to the floor, the jinchūriki screaming behind her.

"Hmm. Too bad," he said, then unlocked the door to the dimension in his eye.

"No, stop! Let her go!" the jinchūriki yelled.

The Uchiha woman made a yanking motion with her free hand and the senbon on the floor shot back up, aimed for his neck, but it was far too slow. The air around her began to warp, and because she was holding the chakra strings, they were sucked in too.

Her eyes widened, gaze darting down to the jinchūriki. "If our roles were reversed, you wouldn't have left me—"

Obito's hand was suddenly empty.

"No!" the jinchuriki grasped at the space where the Uchiha matriarch had been and tumbled out of bed. She landed at his feet, curling up on the floor, gasping as she tried to maintain the seal.

Obito looked down at her. All that effort for nothing.

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.

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The jinchūriki thrashed, tugging at the chains keeping her arms up. "I won't let you use me you know!" she shouted, suspended above a platform covered in intricate seals. His mentor built it on the outskirts of Konohagakure for the sole purpose of unsealing the Nine-Tails.

"Bold words, but I don't think you have much of a choice," Obito told her. He stood at the edge of the ring of seals, arms crossed.

The jinchūriki screamed, throwing her head back, the spiral seal on her stomach coming undone. Her arms, legs, and face were covered in wiggling black lines.

Obito paused as he was flooded with memories that were, but weren't, his own. He sifted through them as the seals glowed turquoise and the Nine-Tails chakra began to bubble out of her stomach.

So Danzo was still breathing then? Pity.

And ah, there the Hokage was, appearing behind her. Far, far too late. He no doubt wasted precious seconds checking on his newborn son first.

The Nine-Tails was pulled free from its containment, the Hokage caught the former jinchūriki as the chains disappeared and the glow faded. Obito watched blue eyes go wide as he stared up at the massive tailed-beast.

The Nine-Tails tilted its head back, roaring triumphantly into the night, only to falter halfway through as a reflection of Obito's mangekyou replaced slit eyes.

The Hokage disappeared with the former jinchūriki.

Beneath his mask, blood pooled in his eye and dripped down his cheek. A bolt of pain made him grimace. Still, he slammed a hand against the ground and pushed chakra into a second hidden seal, his mentor's final gift to Konohagakure.

The Yellow Flash was back. He shot across the gap, hand outstretched, fury in his gaze.

Then they all disappeared and reappeared in the middle of Konohagakure.

10番目

Kakashi stood in his living room, short sword raised in front of him. His other hand hovered near his headband. In the distance, close to the shopping district, the Nine-Tails raged. He tensed when the beast roared, the sound far-away, but still close enough to shatter his window.

Malevolent, foul chakra washed over him. His eye narrowed, but he didn't move.

Focus on what you can do right now. Minato-sensei can handle the Nine-Tails.

A shrill cry behind him made Kakashi spin, eye wide. In one motion he jerked his headband up and uncovered his sharingan. No one was there.

"It's the chakra of the Nine-Tails," Akino spoke. "It's got the kid spooked."

Guruko stood and pressed his nose to Naruto's cheek, trying to calm him.

Kakashi lowered his blade, let out a breath, and pulled his headband back over Obito's eye.

After Kōsuke led him to a cave with his sensei's seals carved into the rock, Lady Biwako had handed him Naruto, warned him that the enemy could teleport and make himself intangible, and left to sound the alarm within the village.

Kakashi, knowing little about what to do with a squirming, unhappy baby, took Naruto back to his apartment, made him a bed of sheets and pillowcases on the floor, and summoned his pack.

Shiba wiggled his nose under a blanket and tossed it over Naruto, covering him more than Kakashi had. Bull, sitting at the lower edge of the makeshift bed, dragged his tongue against Naruto's feet. Bisuke rested her head on the infant's stomach and he finally settled.

On the roof, Pakkun kept watch on the Nine-Tails. If the beast showed any sign of moving closer, they would leave.

The Nine-Tails roared again. Naruto's lip wobbled, but he didn't cry.

Kakashi stared down at him. He looked like Minato-sensei. It was only yesterday that he was in Kushina's belly, and now he was here.

Despite his better judgement, he crouched. "Hi, Naruto. I'm Kakashi," he said, pausing, but the baby made no indication of hearing him. "It's my job to protect you, okay? Just try to stay calm."

Akino lifted his head. "Boss, you know he can't understand you, right?"

"I know," Kakashi answered, but didn't look at him. He reached out, hesitated, and then let his hand hover over Naruto's, barely touching like he'd seen Kushina do with Sasuke.

Naruto's expression didn't change, but his hand closed around Kakashi finger.

Kakashi's eye went wide, his thoughts stumbling to a halt.

Urushi barked at him: Look.

Kakashi yanked his hand away from Naruto and stood, looking to where Urushi sat in front of the broken window. He took a step closer, searching for what his ninken wanted him to see, then realized that was the problem.

He saw trails of smoke, the outlines of leaping ninja seeking survivors, but the Nine-Tails vanished. The oppressive chakra was gone. Kakashi relaxed slightly.

He heard Ūhei's sharp yelp behind him, a half-formed warning of an intruder before Guruko barked over him: Teacher. Safe.

Kakashi turned around. Minato-sensei crouched beside Naruto, taking his son in his arms. "I'm going to need to borrow Naruto for a little while," he said as he stood back up.

"Minato-sensei, Kushina—is she—" Kakashi faltered.

"Alive. You know how stubborn she can be. Not even this broke through her will," Minato-sensei said. He looked around at the assembled ninken. "Thank you all."

Minato finally faced him, and his sad smile made Kakashi's eye widen. "And Kakashi, I'm sorry."

Kakashi ran. He didn't know what happened to the Nine-Tails, but his sensei's words filled him with fear. He'd heard them before, too many times.

A cave-in. Obito. "I'm sorry, Kakashi, Rin. And thank you. Just when we were getting along too..."

A thousand chirping birds. Rin. "Forgive me, Kaka...shi..."

Not again. "Sensei, wait—!" He lunged, grasped empty air, and dropped to his knees. He bent over, nails digging in his hair. He couldn't breathe.

Not again.

地獄

Shisui had only been to one funeral before, and it had been nothing like this.

His father had been buried in a graveyard on ancient Uchiha land, between his clan's shrine and the Naka river. The clan had attended, but that was tradition. If, when the day he died his body was recovered, he would be buried there, too.

During the funeral his mother had stood apart from him. His father had been bedridden for a long time before he finally passed, his mind gone for even longer. She couldn't understand why he wasn't sad, why she was heartbroken and he didn't shed a single tear.

It was because he had mourned for his father ages before his heart stopped, but someone who held onto hope until his last breath couldn't understand that.

She thought him cold.

Shisui looked to his right. Itachi, dressed in mourning black, stood beside him. His cousin stared blankly at the Memorial Stone. His uncle, Fugaku, was next to Itachi. One hand was in his pocket. He looked similarly expressionless, but there was a weight to his shoulders that wasn't there yesterday.

There were dozens of new names on the stone, but only one mattered to the two next to him.

Mikoto Uchiha.

Sasuke grabbed a fistful of his shirt and Shisui blinked down at him. Sasuke, unaware of the tragedy that befell the clan. Unaware that he lost his mother forever. At three months, was he old enough to have any memory of her?

Shisui tightened his hold on him. Sasuke leaned forward, shoved Shisui's shirt in his mouth, and stared up at him. Shisui made himself smile, forced his fingers to relax. He didn't want Sasuke to pick up on the somber mood.

Around them at too many fresh plots to count, families of the deceased quietly mourned. A mother, standing alone. An uncle and a niece. A grandfather. Friends huddled together. A woman on crutches. Shisui looked at them all because he didn't want to look at the stone again.

There was a name on it he didn't want to see. A genin teammate, a rival and friend that died because of him.

Kanna Hanabusa.

Shisui was only here because Aunt Mikoto told him to look after Itachi and Sasuke while she escorted the wife of the Hokage somewhere. He had taken his cousins to a shelter, then taken them back to the compound, walking in on Lord Third in battle armor breaking the news to his uncle.

When he tried to leave, to give them privacy, Itachi had pinned him in place with a look. Itachi had also refused to let go of his arm when his uncle told them they would go to the Memorial Stone in the afternoon, a public show of grief.

Shisui felt uncomfortable. He wanted to be anywhere else, but Itachi needed him. Both he and Fugaku had forgotten Sasuke entirely. He didn't know what he would've done if his little cousin disliked him.

The people Sasuke liked to be held by was a small, exclusive list.

Since there was no body, Aunt Mikoto wouldn't be buried in the Uchiha graveyard. But she would be given a patch of land regardless. The clan would gather to mourn either the next day or the one after that. Though tradition required his uncle to attend, Shisui had his doubts that he would. The same went for Itachi.

Then once the ceremony was done with, his uncle and his cousin would be free to hold a private funeral at the spot chosen, if they wanted.

Sasuke reached up, surprisingly sharp nails scraping at his collarbone, fingers poking at his chin. "Aaa," he was told when he looked down.

"I'll find you some food in a minute, little cousin. Just—" Shisui looked over and Itachi was gone.

He paused, looking at his uncle, but Fugaku neither looked nor acknowledged the absence. His eyes were half-closed and sadder.

"Uh, may I be excused, Uncle?" he asked.

His uncle didn't answer. He didn't lift his eyes from the Memorial Stone.

Shisui closed his eyes. He had to find Itachi. He bowed deeply, apologetically, keeping a careful hold on Sasuke as his little cousin clung tightly to him, and teleported.

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Shisui eventually found Itachi in the forests within the Uchiha compound.

Itachi laid flat on his back in the grass, staring at the sky. His face was still blank. Around and above him, round wooden targets with red and black rings hung from tree branches. Itachi painted them on ages ago. A kunai point was stuck in each, dead center.

His best friend didn't move as he approached, or when he sat.

Sasuke's head lolled against his chest. He'd fallen asleep during Shisui's search, finding something soothing about teleportation. No one had put him down for a nap yet either.

Usually if Itachi was down, Shisui would lighten the mood with humor. He'd make stupid jokes until he ran out of good ones and Itachi voiced his exasperation at the bad ones. But by then he'd be smiling.

If Itachi was angry, Shisui would convince him to spar until the other was too exhausted to hold onto it. Neither seemed appropriate right then.

When his father died, he and Itachi knew of each other, but they weren't friends. That came later when he caught Itachi skipping from the Academy only days after entering. He'd seen Itachi's genius himself, and knowing how he would be treated by the clan from firsthand experience, happily forced friendship on him.

Not as someone who wanted something from him, but an equal.

Now though, for the first time in their friendship Shisui was at a loss.

"What's the meaning in life, Shisui?" Itachi asked. He ripped up a handful of grass and let it fall over himself.

Shisui was taken aback by the question. He blinked once. "Where's this coming from—"

"And what's the meaning in death?" Itachi interrupted him, turning his head.

The intensity in his eyes made Shisui pause. He looked up as he thought it over. "Well, to me, the meaning in life is to do the best we can to leave the world a better place than we left it. Even if that means making sacrifices—" he faltered, realizing too late how insensitive that might sound.

Aunt Mikoto sacrificed herself, after all.

Itachi pushed himself up, his gaze impossibly more serious than before. "And death?"

Shisui frowned. "Itachi, I didn't mean—"

"What's the meaning in all this senseless death? What was gained by causing so many victims? If this was done to cause war, why? Why is everyone so opposed to peace?" Itachi ducked his head, fingers digging into the dirt, and Shisui's eyes widened. "I thought it would stop, Shisui. I finally thought I would never have to see another dead body again. I thought I could..." he trailed off and frowned, wiping his eyes with his palms.

Shisui was the only person in the world left who knew how soft Itachi's heart really was. How he only became a shinobi because it was what was expected of him as son of the clan head. "Itachi—"

"I should go back," Itachi cut him off, refusing to let him answer. Maybe he never wanted one. He stood, wiping his eyes once more, and Shisui thought he caught a flash of red. "It was rude of me to leave Father like that. You don't have to follow me."

"No, really, Itachi wait—" It was only because of the speed that earned him his moniker that Shisui caught Itachi's wrist before he could disappear.

Itachi's shoulders hunched. His best friend shot him a dark look and dread dropped into his stomach like a rock. Itachi's sharingan was three spiraling curves instead of tomoe.

Shisui's grip tightened and Itachi looked confused. "Shut off your sharingan, Itachi. Now."

Surprise flashed across his cousin's face. His eyes faded to black.

Shisui sighed in relief. He shook his head. "You're killing me, Itachi."

Between what Shisui knew of how his ancestors activated the mangekyou and how it happened for him, it was the act of witnessing the death of someone close that triggered it. Leave it to Itachi to fulfill only half the requirements and still get the full picture.

His cousin had to one-up him, too. Shisui was nine when he triggered his mangekyou. Itachi was eight. It was only six months ago that his cousin was praised for activating the sharingan after he returned from a mission without his team.

Itachi touched the skin under his eyelid, tear marks he hadn't managed to wipe away down his cheek. "By the way you reacted, Shisui, did I—"

Shisui released Itachi and held up his hand, stopping all follow-up questions. Knowing Itachi, he would take that itself as an answer. Shisui thought they were alone, but he couldn't be sure.

Itachi frowned, still prodding his eyes, and sat again.

"To answer your question about death, I don't know the meaning. There might not be one, Itachi," Shisui said. "But, and I know it might not be the right thing to say to you right now, whoever did this might not have seen it as wrong, or as opposing peace."

Itachi's hand dropped. His best friend stared at him.

Shisui lowered Sasuke to lay across his lap. "We all have our own ideas of what peace is. I'm not going to lie to you, Itachi, and say that there was a reason for what happened, or an ideology behind it, because sometimes there isn't one. There are people who just want others to feel pain, and they consider that their peace."

Itachi squeezed the front of his shirt. "That makes me feel worse."

Shisui shook his head. "Was anything I said going to make you feel better, Itachi? Be honest."

"No," Itachi softly admitted.

Shisui looked at him. Then he carefully turned around, doing his best to keep Sasuke still. "Go ahead and cry, Itachi," he said, hearing a quiet inhale behind him. "There's no one watching you, not even me."

It took a moment before Shisui heard a choked sob behind him, cut off by Itachi covering his mouth, trying desperately to rein himself in like before.

Shisui didn't turn around, knowing if Itachi didn't allow himself a moment of weakness to mourn now he never would. Itachi sniffed and the next sob wasn't muffled.

Itachi's forehead dropped against his back and he cried like a baby. Shisui felt his own grief scratch at his throat, but he swallowed it back down.

Not even Itachi was allowed to watch him break down.

A/N: 10番目 - 10th, 地獄 - Hell.

Memento Mori - Remember you must die.