Missing Case(Missing eyes)

Eyes are a witness to corpses

Itachi was internally panicking. So much so that it was even starting to show on his normally emotionless face.

He couldn't help the intense feeling of complete dread in his stomach that signalled something was incredibly wrong, that something held so tightly in his grasp was letting go.

He didn't let up as he raced across tree branches, sharingan activated in his whirlwind of emotions. Shisui was right behind him—not that he needed to be, having chosen to following him as "back up" instead of the moral support he would need if it was true—

Itachi forced the thoughts away, they would do no good and only serve to distract him.

He continued onwards, closing in on his destination, where at least ten other shinobi were standing, surrounding the small body he had been sent out to check. He felt his breath catch as he stumbled closer, as the Jonin took in his face and sent pitying looks his way.

A small curl of anger rose in his chest at that. They were acting as if it was really him—

Dully, he felt Shisui put a comforting hand on his shoulder, his fingers gripping into his flesh grounding him from floating away.

He took a subtle breath, trying to calm himself enough to actually look. It wasn't working.

Still, he had a duty, a job to do. It might not even be Sasuke. Just some other unfortunate child, who couldn't possibly be his little brother.

Steeling himself, he finally stepped forward to the corpse, barley noticing the other shinobi backing away and letting him have a clear view of—

His breath got caught in his throat. The body was turned away from him, limbs sprawled like he was just dumped there without a care in the world, but that dark hair...

The black locks were damning, and extremely recognisable, especially to him. He would know, he had brushed it a thousand times. It was a stark contrast to the too white skin it was covering, to the blood trails stuck to the familiar Uchiha clothing he wore.

Suddenly, Itachi felt a sort of calm wash over him. Like a blanket was covering his ability to feel, allowing numbness to reach the surface of his body.

He didn't allow himself to think what it meant that he was going into his ANBU mental state.

He shrugged Shisui's hand off his shoulder, moving forward more quickly and efficiently than before, until he was right beside the body. Through his haze, he felt his hand reach out to the corpses upper arm, tugging his down so that the body moved so that it was facing him.

He heard the sharp gasp behind him, felt the tension of horror flow into the air as there was no turning back.

Upon looking at the face he had memorised and searched for for days, Itachi felt as the numbness gave way, as emotion after emotion hit him so hard in the chest he couldn't breathe.

Because that—that was Sasuke, his baby brother, lying there with dried blood cascading down his face from where his eyes had been ripped out. Face far too pale, far too bloody and far too real. And oh my gods, it was real.

His hand shook with the realisation, still on his dead brothers arm—

That was Sasuke, no doubt about it. No matter where he looked, there were imperfect perfections of his brothers face that matched every detail in his sharingan filled memory.

Sasuke, his seven-year-old innocent brother was dead.

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