The legacy of the Uchiha was one of blood and madness. That much was clear through the ages, though few would be aware of just how far and deep that taint runs. Of course, time changes many things and curses take what was once symbols of insight and wisdom and transmute them into windows of suffering and loss, endlessly weeping as they tore themselves apart from the inside, unable to acknowledge the reality of what they saw. Blinded by hate, a veil cast over them, cataracts of the soul.

Until a boy who was a temple began to play with the children. It was a simple thing at first, the adults paying no mind to their children's new imaginary friend, not until it became wide spread enough that whispers of enemy action and paranoia bloomed. Fear gripped the hearts of those who possessed eyes that should be able to see through illusions, eyes that should be able to see this potential threat unable to see what was before them. Hands unable to touch what their children could clearly interact with. Trained ears and noses unable to determine there was anything there at all.

So, it can be assumed that tensions were high when Uchiha Mikoto, kuni in hand, confronted the son of her best friend. Really, she had tried to do what she could, but his current state? With his eyes gaping holes bleeding azure fluid that sizzled as it fell, cutting channels in his cheek that resembled tomoes? Yes, she was justified in being worried. "Hi auntie!" Of course, as the boy smiled, waving his hands, being his normal cheerful self? She sighed.

That, and she needed to ask the important thing. "Good afternoon Naruto. What happened to your eyes?" There were no spirals of sapphire flames, certainty no unnaturally colored tendrils of gore and the fact that those scars had no mirrors that were not blinking did not need to be said. Little Naruto's smile was not a bleeding gash, even if it was full of lifeblood.

And he just went into that adorable thinking pose that both of his parents did in the academy. "Well, I just wanted to get some additional perspective, so I ate the ones outside." All of that delivered with a child's serious and casual tone, as if what he was saying was something very simple and nothing worrying at all.

So, as the mature and responsible adult, she made some signs to her watchers. There were perks to being the Uchiha matriarch, even if they did not seem to be registering Naruto. "Now Naruto, that was reckless and careless of you. Between that and whatever you are doing to hide..." She paused, as he started 'Uzumaki Prankster Giggle 14, Variation C' (Kushina had been her best friend, she was more familiar with a range of Uzumaki behaviours than was likely mentally healthy).

"I'm not hiding auntie. Its just that they don't want to see. That and I still have plenty of eyes on the inside." There is an air of innocence about him, that and something terribly, terribly wrong, as she begins to notice some of the things that are just ever so slightly off about him. "Would you like to see auntie?" He smiles, trying to share a secret, a gift of something that resonates inside of her.

So it is that the matriarch of the clan smiles and inclines her head, speaking the words that would damn and preserve her clan in equal measure, spoken to indulge a child before he is taken to receive medical care. "I would be happy to Naruto-chan."

Uchiha Itachi

Night of the Massacre

He wept internally as he killed them, as he sacrificed his clan to preserve the village. A part of him resented the orders, as while there had been talk of a coup, of rebellion? It had never been anything more than some of the more idiotic members of the clan, the hardliners, the war mongers. The fools that thought the days of the warring clans represented glory and power instead of suffering and death. But they had enough sway in the clan council to be a visible voice, something that the village noticed.

And so they signed the death of the clan. Weighed down with regrets and self-loathing, he nearly missed it. Because in the middle of all the death and sin, it was an absurd sight. Naruto, of all people, dragging Marada with an oversized fish hook while whistling and skipping, untouched by the gore around them. While, aside from the metal spike that should be inside his ancestors heart and pinned his mouth shut as he thrashed around, some of the clan children laughing and poking the man with long sticks.

Frankly, he needed to investigate... and yet, he found himself walking forward instead of flickering forward. Speaking politely and calmly instead of more forceful means of interrogation. "Naruto-kun, what are you doing?" He gestured towards the legendary missing ninja trying to thrash and escape the fishhook.

Innocent eyes looked directly into his own, fearless and without guile. "Well, I wanted to catch Obito here, because he was one of dad's old students, but he has been a bad man. So, I'm going to offer him up to Kyuubi." He paused a moment. "Ah, you think I should let Inu-nii talk to him first?" There was worry in his tone, as the boy consulted the older one.

Which, if this was not Marada? Well, there were a number of concerns, even as his eyes spun, as he trapped Naruto with Tsukuyomi... and paused. Because he did not design this. It was the compound... with with blinking Sharingan eyes in place of the clan banners. And of course, the clan members that he killed getting up, grumbling even as they still displayed the injuries he inflicted on them, as currents he did not want to see swirled in the sky, as the ground beneath them breathed. "Hey, if you wanted to dream, you could have just asked you know."

And now Naruto was pouting. Frankly, as Itachi blinked... he was just going to cancel the illusion, turn around and pretend this never happened.

Uchiha Sasuke

Years later

As he sat at the table, he pondered things, seeing his parents out of the corners of his eyes. His very much dead parents. Not, as he took a sip of his tea, that really meant much, given all the ghosts. The ghosts that still lived, because they were only dreaming. At times he wondered, was he really alive? He changed with time at least, and the villagers had no issue seeing him, but he wondered at times.

He did not react as his head, as his father wished him luck graduating... and on his walk to the academy, he did not pay much mind to a screaming man dragged to the prison by dead guards he could not perceive. After all, just because the police force was dead was no reason not to continue to do their jobs. He wondered why more people failed to understand that his clan took its duties and commitments seriously. After all, justice was undying.