The newest Akatsuki hideout was on the outskirts of Kemurigakure. It was strategically chosen because Konohagakure Nin had no withstanding alliance with the Hidden Smoke after past transgressions regarding the invasion of Smoke and Grass back when Hashirama was in power. Without the treaty, Konohagakure scouts would be killed on sight. Thankfully, Kemurigakure had no qualms with the Akatsuki or me; they saw the Akatsuki’s influence within the village as a ‘safety net’ against prowling countries.
The boundary of Kemurigakure meeting the woodland was a thick stone archway where torp-coloured, clad armoured shinobi would take posts on each turret on the wall. Beneath their uniform were fishnet singlets with red trim and long black gloves. Their hitai-ate were simple black bands of elastic with the swirl of their village on the metal.
Kemurigakure itself was located deep within a valley of jagged rocks, between two dormant volcanoes. Though the locals insisted that the volcanoes hadn’t erupted since the turn of the last century, smoke still collected low in the valley, casting shadows around every corner and on every building. I didn’t trust Kemurigakure Nin, but I had no choice but to comply with Pein’s wishes.
The elder of the village, their Kemukage, stood at the base of the arch and tipped his plated arm against the brim of his rice-paddy hat. He had a pointed moustache and beady black eyes that narrowed at me in scrutiny. In his right hand was a thin black staff containing a swirled piece of silver on the tip to symbolise the Kemurigakure symbol. The Kemukage, Katsutoshi Ishibura, tapped the hilt of the staff impatiently as I stood on the stone above him, my shadow covering his.
“You’re looking for them,” it was more of a statement than a question.
“Hn,” I nodded.
“They’re deep within the valley,” Katsutoshi muttered, “when you reach the Temple of Hodo; they’re located in the final chamber. I’ve been instructed not to disturb the organisation, I advise you not to seek them out.”
“I’m the one they sought for,” I stared down at my bandaged arm. “Arigatou, I’ll make sure no harm befalls your village.”
However, even I knew that was a lie. If the Akatsuki was situated within the abysmal city lines, Pein wanted complete destruction. I wouldn’t implicate myself to help a village that threatened to wage war against my old home. I would rather watch it burn to the ground, Kemurigakure wouldn’t get my assistance―Katsutoshi could count on that.
***
The outside of Hodo was carved from one of the dormant volcanoes. At the base of the magma clad mountain was a stone gateway with two statues breathing fire towards the sky, their palms were pressed together to create an arch for me to walk under. A slight dusting of ash wafted through the air, it tinged my cloak grey by the time I found my way inside the temple.
There was no need for torches inside the temple, veins of luminescent magma flowed in crevices on the floor and walls. A thin layer of rock sizzled to stop the lava from escaping its niches, but that didn’t stop the smoke and steam furling from it.
Another archway greeted me, but this time the statues consisted of two troll-like creatures with puffed-out cheeks blowing what looked like air at each other. Above each of the archways were the symbols of the nature releases: fire, air, earth, water and lightning. The earth arch had two men dressed in prestigious Samurai armour with their raised leg leaning on a rock next to the arch, their swords linked to hold up the volcano. Two Yokai from mythology thrust thunder bolts down to create the fourth arch before I approached the final one.
What puzzled me was the water arch. Two masked creatures faced away from each other but one of their arms pressed against one side of the arch while their remaining arm reached out to catch the trickling water from a vein above. I expected the Temple of Hodo to have depictions of Kemurigakure elders, not have connections with the five nature releases.
“These represent the five mistakes of mankind,” a voice echoed from behind me.
I turned to see Pein stand at the head of my shadow. His pale hands were hidden beneath the long sleeves of his Akatsuki cloak and his mouth was concealed from view. From Pein’s raised eyebrow, he expected me to cower in fear over his violet Rinnegan―but compared to the Sharingan and Byakugan, the Rinnegan couldn’t compare.
“Man needed fire to survive but used it to destroy the land which the Kami had gifted us. Through our selfishness, we breathed the blessed air, hence tainting its clarity. Man fought over the earth in which we stand on, spilling unnecessary blood. There were many attempts to destroy man, most by the mythical beasts in the form of storms,” Pein approached me slowly. “The only thing man needs to survive, is water. It can either be a blessing or curse, it could flood the land or dry it out―the five sins of man are the five things which were given to us.”
“Kemurigakure was originally the battle ground of most wars since it was so secluded and the geography of it all was dangerous to even fight on,” I observed, “hence why the Hodo was built here, in recognition of the five earthly sins.”
“And do you know what the sixth sin of man is, Shinkoshoku Toge?” Pein moved past me to the sixth archway.
The two statues were of a cowering man (to the left) and a woman (on the right). Both statues had their arms raised to the roof as if trying to shield themselves from something. They were dressed regally in kimonos and a fine silk while above them was the Kanji for death. Killing was the sixth sin of man, the greed to take a life and the pleasure of ruining someone’s future―having the power to take it all away.
“You said the Akatsuki fought for peace,” I remained indifferent, “yet you’re killing innocent Jinchuriki…it’s a twisted reality that you’re living in, you perform the sixth sin of man but you preach for life.”
“The Jinchuriki are a part of the sixth sin,” I continued to follow Pein through the gate, “the beats in which are confined within them are made from the pride of man, our hatred―once there’s nothing to fight over, wars will cease and we will repent for our greed.”
A chipped staircase lead down towards a carved dais which depicted all six figured carved into the stone. Above the dais on an elevated ledge were six stone thrones. Above each one were the elemental symbols corresponding to each crime. There were five teams in the Akatsuki, and the dominant partner sat on the throne with their submissive either to the side or somewhere else around the room.
On the throne to either side of the doorway was the purple haired Konan, standing protectively behind the empty throne that should hold Pein’s body while the other throne held Deidara. The blonde from Iwagakure looked a little worse for wear, but his arm seemed to have been stitched on, Deidara gave me a confident smirk which I didn’t return.
Next to Konan was Zetsu, since two components made the unaffiliated Akatsuki member, he was on a team by itself. His body protruded from the stone, making Hidan and Kakuzu look slightly uncomfortable. Kakuzu sat in his throne with his briefcase on his lap, beneath him on the incline leading towards the dais, was Hidan resting on the blade of his scythe.
“Miss me Shinko–Chan?” his tongue curled around one of his canine teeth in some form of seduction technique.
Itachi reclined to the side in his throne. One of his legs was bent on the armrest while the other touched the ground. His left arm hung in the nook of his Akatsuki robe, still acting like a make-shift sling. Itachi’s three-stage Sharingan glowed an intense crimson, his eyes following my every move. Behind him, Kisame gripped the hilt of Samehada and growled at me.
“I thought it was supposed to be a private meeting, Pein,” I turned to see the leader of the Akatsuki lower himself into the throne and stare at the ring on his finger.
“You forget that I am the Akatsuki,” Pein remained emotionless, “but as you can see, Shinkoshoku Toge, we are low on members. You might already know that Orochimaru, a defected shinobi from Konohagakure was once a loyal member―he left soon after the Bijuu plan was hatched, and since the death of Sasori…we’re short on strength.”
“I refuse,” I cracked my knuckles.
I could feel Itachi’s stare eat away at me, taking pieces of my heart along with it. When I battled him, it was rage that took over―anger that caused Sasuke to pursue him, anger that caused Naruto to hate him, anger that took my best friend away from me. Itachi tortured himself continuously, and every moment of the day, it kills me a little bit more to see him become so shallow. But death doesn’t await me, if Pein wanted to end my life, he would’ve done it already―there were many free chances.
“To refuse me, is to refuse Kami,” Pein’s deep voice reverberated off the walls. His Rinnegan’s focus shifted to Itachi, who still hadn’t taken his Sharingan off of my body. “Itachi, if you will.”
Tsukuyomi.
I flipped back into the dais just as Itachi thrust a kunai at me. He left his throne within a blink of an eye, but Itachi thought his power of deception worked well with clones―but I could even tell without my Mangekyou activated, that Itachi would always put in a substitute first to test his opponent’s strength before even considering implicating himself in an unworthy battle.
But I was worthy. I proved myself over and over, even when we were kids. I bled for the first branch; I gave up my life for them―and for what? To be told that I was a betrayer because I stole a pair of Sharingan to protect Itachi and Shisui’s lives? To be shamed in front of my family for my loyalty?
Itachi continued to lunge at me, covering all angles. However, I was used to compensating for skilled fighters like Itachi. I could combat his hits easily with my arms, but I caught onto his tactics as soon as I slid back a few metres against the far wall. He wanted to make sure that I didn’t have the chance to grab my Nagamaki.
If I used jutsu against Itachi, then my cover would be blown, but he gave me no choice. I couldn’t use Kenjutsu since my getting my weapon would prove to be a hard task and there was no point to exert myself for a sword. Itachi would suspect Genjutsu if I used Tsukuyomi or Amaterasu, and since he knew I was a female, he couldn’t just think it was Sasuke.
Did I want to keep my cover more than my life? Itachi’s suspected reaction sent shivers down my spine. He’d hate me, especially after I promised Shisui that I’d destroy his eye. He’d despise me, because I didn’t ‘save’ Sasuke, but it was his actions that drove the kid out of the village. He’d want to kill me, mainly because I would never let the Akatsuki get their hands on Naruto.
I knew I didn’t have to speak my jutsu out loud, but I wasn’t sure if Itachi’s memories were still as clear as mine. Would he recognise the hand signs? The fighting technique? The link that we’re so finely tied together with?
I didn’t have another chance to second guess; I made the hand signs for my Raikiri. It was a concentrated form of the Chidori that Kakashi manifested, and I refined it with his help when I was an ANBU. A circle of blue flames danced around my feet in a clockwise motion while lightning pulsated from my arms.
The arcs of lightning shot off in all directions, it was hardly evadable unless you hid beneath the ground or used the Susanoo. Neither of which, Itachi planned on using. He allowed his crow clone to get hit, causing the feathers to disperse in all directions. From the surge of chakra, I felt his presence behind me so I quickly compensated for his ‘surprise attack’.
I kept my focus on the obstacles around or behind his shoulder to avoid the Tsukuyomi that Itachi no doubt planned to use. He tried to grab for the hood of my cloak but fumbled since he couldn’t risk being touched by lightning. I cut out the jutsu and prepared myself for yet another fire release.
“Kaiton: Hosenka no Jutsu!”
Ten orbs of tailed flames shot out at Itachi, he prepared himself for the impact, but to my surprise, tried to cancel my Phoenix Sage Fire with the Uchiha fireball technique. The searing heat from both jutsu was enough to knock us both back. Steam and smoke curled from my cloak as the sweat clogged my crow mask. My back was against the base of Itachi’s throne while he was on his side against the far wall. It almost looked like it took most of his strength to sit back up.
Since he took his time to adjust himself to our brutal fighting style, I pulled the Nagamaki from its sheath. The beautifully balanced blade tipped slightly in my hand as I tried to get up into a sitting position.
The other Akatsuki members were either behind their thrones for cover or used their own jutsu to combat me and Itachi’s battle. Kakuzu held his smoking briefcase up to his face while Hidan used his cloak as some kind of drape; he shook some ash from it and resumed his leisurely position.
Kisame had used Samehada to block most of the flames whilst Pein must’ve used the technique within his Rinnegan to keep the flames from reaching him and Konan. Deidara peeked over the spine of his throne and blinked as a clump of rock fell from his fringe. He looked the most startled.
“Hey, what’s this all about?” Hidan narrowed his murky eyes at Itachi; I could tell that Hidan hated Itachi, especially from what he’d told me regarding his previous run-ins with the certain Uchiha in the Akatsuki. “I would like my Shinko–Chan in one piece after this.”
“Your Shinko–Chan, un? Are you sure that Nibi Jinchuriki didn’t hit you too hard on the head, yeah?” Deidara growled.
“Hand me that fifty yen,” Hidan held out his hand to Deidara, “unlike you, she prefers a man that’s both hard and understanding. She had her hands all over me at the monastery yesterday.”
My lip twitched. I should’ve known better, Hidan was more preoccupied with money and betting scandals than an actual person’s feelings. My chest tightened and the Nagamaki trembled in my grip, why did everyone have to hurt me? First it was Shisui with his lies, Itachi with his selfless acts, Hiruzen with his ‘love for the village’, my parents with their pride, Naruto with his stubbornness…when would it end?
Itachi had enough time to regain his composure, he threw the typical Uchiha fireball at me once again―typical and certainly predictable. I dodged my jumping into the air; I used the roof of the temple as a foothold and thrust my Nagamaki into the stone for support. I loosened my grip of the Nagamaki and shot down to the ground and high speed. Instead of throwing shuriken like I had in our last true battle when we were children, the sleeve of my cloak drew back on my bandaged arm to reveal thousands of crows with sharp beaks―all aimed at Itachi.
There was no time to evade my attack, Itachi shielded his face the best he could from the assault but the beaks from the crows assaulted him. Once a crow took a strike, it disappeared in a cloud of smoke, leaving Itachi on his knees through a puff of swirling grey mist.
The cuts didn’t slow Itachi down; it was like the words from Hidan and Deidara made his blood run faster, and combined with my attack, his nerve endings were on fire. My attack was short lived because Itachi appeared behind me and grabbed me by the hood; I winced when Itachi slammed the side of my head against the carved stone of the dais.
The multiple carvings dug into my skull and I let out a cry as Itachi half crouched and straddled my body. He gripped the hood of my cloak with his left hand and a Tanto in his right. Itachi paused for a moment and looked between his grip on my hood and the Tanto, almost as an afterthought, he threw the Tanto aside. I don’t know if it was curiosity or something else that drove him two toss me back against the wall, but for whatever reason, I was grateful that he didn’t slit my throat.
I only understood what his true intentions were when his Mangekyou honed into mine, he charged at me and even before I could draw breath, he tore my cloak from my body. I could handle surviving without my mask because the cloak shielded my actual appearance, but without my shield, my cover was almost undone.
I’d ditched the Uchiha robe since I visited Konohagakure; it grew too hot beneath all of my layers so I found no reason to wear it. Instead, I wore a long sleeved seaweed green kimono shirt, much like the one I wore at the Uchiha banquet, except instead of having cherry blossoms it had two stalks on my back with their legs raised in flight.
I still kept on my black pants with the bandages, along with the ninja sandals but my mask was the only thing saving my identity now. I still had no clan or village ties connecting me anywhere, but I felt so vulnerable without my cloak, the dark shield that protected me from the prying eyes of the outside world.
What was there left for me to do? I couldn’t run again, Pein would simply find me or use Itachi once more. I couldn’t disperse into crows that would open my identity right up to Itachi. I couldn’t kill Itachi either; Sasuke would take his rage out on something else, like the village. Then what was left?
Kotoamatsukami.
Of course, Kotoamatsukami hijacked the target’s mind if I so wished. I just had to pre-set orders and rearrange Itachi’s memory. When I used Kotoamatsukami on Naruto, I repressed all of his memories regarding me and my name―it was permanent, to an extent. Pein was wrong; the sixth sin of man was the mind, for it controls everything and our decisions. Itachi had no training to combat Genjutsu―he’d spent three years trying to forget his clan and the techniques that came with it. Itachi would be powerless, or so I’d hope.
I inhaled deeply and tried to remember the true extent of Kotoamatsukami since I’d only successfully used it once on Naruto. The technique itself allowed me to enter the mind of my chosen target as long as they were in my field of view, and through their mind I could manipulate their memories and give them ‘false experiences’, making it seem as if they were doing things of their own free will―much like Tsukuyomi.
I shot from Itachi’s hold towards the roof where I pulled on my Nagamaki. The blade fragmented some of the rock, causing it to rain down on the Akatsuki. I couldn’t use my sword, mainly because I wanted to keep the playing fields fair with Itachi―if he was to lose, I’d want it to be with dignity instead of having the bastard pull out like he did in the Uchiha Trials.
Itachi pivoted on his heel and we ran at each other with the same momentum and intent. We weren’t going to strike lethal blows; we’d destroy one another with our minds. Itachi held onto my left shoulder and I dug my nails into his right. The material of his Akatsuki cloak was course beneath my fingertips, much like the fabric of his old Uchiha shirt. Did he still have his? I couldn’t help but smile beneath my mask.
What I hadn’t predicted was the fact that my Mangekyou lit up the darkness behind the slits of my mask, and since Itachi and I stared directly into each other’s Sharingan, he noticed instantly. He still fucking remembered the patterns.
“Where,” his Itachi’s chest heaved, “did you get those eyes?”
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
How could I respond to that without giving myself away? I had to use Kotoamatsukami now or else I’d be good as dead. I unlocked my jaw and exhaled deeply before focusing Shisui’s Mangekyou on Itachi, I’d be forgotten for good―just as well, I suppose Itachi wasn’t the only one that tortured himself.
Childish laughter surrounded me but I was alone. I was on my back, I wasn’t moving but everything else around me was. Water droplets rose up from what must’ve been the river beneath me. My body was frozen mid-fall as I stared up at the starless night sky. The only light was from the moon.
Hold on a second, I released Kotoamatsukami on Itachi, why was I the one being affected? Kotoamatsukami shouldn’t have this affect, I’d only have to speak what was supposed to be erased and break the Genjutsu but this was different this was…Tsukuyomi.
My body was suspended above the Naka River, I should’ve known. I wore the clothes on the day Shisui died. I was in my ANBU uniform but still wore my crow mask. I was the same age as I was now, almost twenty instead of sixteen. My high ponytail slowly rippled around me as if I were in slow motion. What kind of Tsukuyomi was this?
Above me on the cliff face, my younger self stood with her back to the river. She was still in her ANBU clothing but didn’t wear the Tengu mask. Blood cascaded from the girl’s socket as she reached to pry her left Sharingan out. I could hear her words echo around me as Shisui and Itachi stood, beckoning the girl back.
“Etsuko, you don’t want to do this,” Shisui had tears spilling down his clear cheeks. “Please Etsu–Chan, I love you!”
Behind Shisui and Itachi was a young Naruto, he was also crying but Itachi grabbed the collar of his shirt to stop him from chasing after my younger figure. Next to Itachi were both of my parents, wailing together as they told me how much they cared, next to Shisui was Fugaku and Hiruzen, claiming how they couldn’t lose such a ‘valiant’ shinobi such as me to the arms of death.
Kakashi, Tenzo and Danzo were there as well, they weren’t crying but expressions of anguish were evident. What was this? Why wasn’t Shisui dead? Why wasn’t Itachi preparing for the coup d’état?
While I was frozen mid-fall I tried to scream for my younger self to get away from the edge, but she didn’t listen. She simply held both Sharingan in her palms, one for Shisui, the other for Itachi. She then unclipped the Tanto and its sheath and handed it to Naruto who hugged her legs tight.
“Stay strong Naruto, you’ll need to be when you become Hokage,” she ruffled Naruto’s blonde spikes. “Dattebayo!”
Why was Itachi showing me this?
“I want you all to know that I couldn’t have asked for better people in my life,” she took another step back so the heel of her sandals dangled over the edge. “Shisui, you’ll find another girl someday―I’m just sorry to have hurt you this way. Itachi, you will be happy too, even though I can’t see your face, I know you’re smiling through your tears. Lord Hokage and Lord Danzo, thank you for believing in me…Otosan, Okasan, you will always be in my heart.”
“Etsu–Chan don’t do this,” my mother begged.
“I have to, there’s no other way,” another step. “Lord Fugaku, I entrust you with my will, the faith that you’ll keep the Uchiha out of trouble with the village. Kakashi and Tenzo, thank you for being my most trusted comrades, I’ll never forget you.”
“Etsuko I…” Itachi stepped forward towards my younger self and put a hand on her shoulder. “I–I…”
“If I die, several circumstances will change,” she murmured, “don’t say those words Itachi…they will only bring pain and suffering.”
“I know,” Itachi’s voice changed into a heartless growl.
The figures of the people I hated in my past melted into muddles of black ink. The colour faded from them before they pooled to the ground. The only people left were Shisui and Itachi.
The starless sky had turned crimson, and the moon was now stark-white. Black clouds circled above the Naka River but I was powerless to the illusion. I watched in horror as both Shisui and Itachi crushed my younger self’s eyes and pushed against her shoulders, causing her to fall back into the river.
“Why didn’t you pull me up Etsuko?” Shisui shouted down to me as I watched the apparition of myself plunge into the torrent below. Shisui reached down and grabbed my shoulder, breaking my stalled motion so I dangled in his grip. “Why didn’t you rescue me from the water?”
“I tried to Shisui,” my voice hitched, “but you told me to let go.”
“Just because I told you to, didn’t mean I wanted you to,” Shisui’s eyes began to bleed. His sockets were now empty and his lips were pressed together in a thin line. His blood dripped onto my face as he continued, “Why didn’t you tell me that you loved me?”
“I tried to but you wouldn’t listen!” I shouted as tears poured from my eyes.
“Why didn’t you make me listen? You’re powerless when it comes to people you love. You couldn’t stop Itachi kill the clan, you couldn’t protect Lord Third, you couldn’t help Sasuke and you didn’t stop me from falling,” Shisui hissed. “What if I wanted to grow up and have children? What if I wanted to get married and grow old?”
“You told me you couldn’t hold on no matter what me and Itachi said,” I screamed through my muffled cries. “I believed you, I tried to pull you up but your sleeve tore, you slipped from my arms, I tried to save you!”
“But you didn’t try hard enough,” Itachi cut in. “You always took the easy way out.”
“I didn’t!” I protested.
“You did so,” Itachi said. “If you really wanted to become clan leader, you would’ve worked hard for it instead of starting fights, you would’ve protected Shisui and me, but you didn’t. While you tried to hide your feelings, you didn’t even think of going after Shisui’s body or trying to find him!”
“You killed me Etsu–Chan,” Shisui’s blood continued to trickle down his cheeks, “I’m simply going to do what you did to me, I’m going to let you go.”
“Please Shi―!”
And just like that, Shisui’s grip loosened on my arm. He took no sleeve of my clothing with him, nothing to remember me by, he just watched me fall. I shrieked as the descent seemed so long but yet so fast. The cold water was enough to freeze my body, but I didn’t sink. I was just suspended in nothingness with my clothes and hair softly flailing around me.
The images of Itachi and Shisui wavered as they stared down at me, laughing. They threw the remnants of my Sharingan into the water, clouding the clarity with red. I didn’t die; it was like I watched the world continue to go by while I waited in the water.
Is this what Shisui felt? Is this truly what his ‘death’ was like? Is he still waiting for me?
My breath clogged in my throat, I wasn’t sure if I was still within the boundaries of Tsukuyomi but instead of Itachi gripping me, it was Shisui. We were back in the Temple of Hodo and the rest of the Akatsuki stared at us with curiosity, but I stared at Shisui with fear. Uncomprehend-able terror.
His curls were longer and came down to his perfectly sculpted eyebrows. The Leaf symbol on his hitai-ate was defaced with one sharp cut from a kunai to symbolise that he was a rogue. The deep creases beneath his eyes, a match to Itachi’s, still remained short. His long lashes and broad nose hadn’t changed one bit.
Shisui was taller than me by two inches, but both of his eyes still remained. How was that possible? Only Itachi and I held his two Mangekyou, and I was personally in possession of his left eye. Shisui said nothing to me; we just stared at each other. He must’ve noticed me quivering under his touch because he smiled. It was a confident but gentle lop-sided grin that only Shisui could’ve pulled off.
“Sh…Shi–Kun?” my voice was a mere whisper.
“Oi, what the hell’s going on Leader–Sama?” Hidan’s voice seemed distant, but I could tell he was agitated. “Are you going to allow Shinko–Chan to die or not? I don’t get the point of this.”
“Be patient Hidan,” Pein commanded.
Was Shisui real? Was he really with me? My chest felt like it was going to burst, as if my heart had been clenched too tightly. I wasn’t sure if I was still breathing. My bandaged hand slowly reached up to caress Shisui’s cheek. There was warmth beneath my fingertips, a pulse. Shisui was―was alive!
“Tell me who you are,” Shisui asked.
Even his voice had changed; it was deeper, proof that Shisui was a man and no longer an adolescent. How could this be possible? I thought the Naka River had swept his body away, taken him from me. I continued to tremble beneath Shisui’s touch as he waited patiently for an answer.
“It’s me,” I whispered.
“Who?” Shisui wanted specifics.
Etsuko, I tried to say my name but it wouldn’t leave my lips, as if some part of my consciousness prevented me from doing so. My breath came in shallow gasps until my eyes landed on the crow that settled on Shisui’s shoulder. It wasn’t Karasu, that bird had left the sanctuary on the night it tore my flesh apart. It was…Kuchibashi? Why was Shisui in possession of Itachi’s―it all clicked.
Kuchibashi held Shisui’s right Mangekyou Sharingan, which also had the power of Kotoamatsukami. That bastard Itachi combated my Genjutsu. He must’ve used Tsukuyomi first, which was overpowered by my own Kotoamatsukami but then cancelled it out using Shisui’s right eye. He played me like a harp.
When I blinked, I was no longer caressing Shisui’s cheek, but Itachi’s. The onyx orbs of Shisui were gone, replaced by the three-stage Sharingan that belonged to Itachi. The nails on my left hand dug into the warmth of Itachi’s face, causing him to cry out in pain as the crescent marks began to weep.
Why would Itachi hurt me like that?
Because he was jealous, a dark voice hissed.
“I will ask you again,” Itachi ignored Kuchibashi’s kaw of warning, “where did you get those eyes?”
I couldn’t use the Sarutobi curse mark on the back of my neck, I’d exerted most of its power when I went up against Itachi the first time―just to realise that it was nothing but a Sunagakure cadaver. Itachi had played me all along, the bastard, the fucking bastard.
“Did you defile their graves in the Konohagakure cemetery? Did you hunt for the Uchiha and pry them from their lifeless sockets?” Itachi shoved me back, but I didn’t fight him, there was no use. “Did you even know who those people were? What they meant to me?”
I thought we were over this, the constant conflict, the lies, the obliviousness to each other. We were connected by the finest of links but Itachi was still blind to what was before him. I’d laid out the most noticeable hints. The use of my summoning crows, the mask, my jutsu, the information about the Sharingan―yet Itachi refused to accept it.
“You’re unworthy of such prowess!” Itachi backhanded me.
Unworthy. Itachi sounded like Fugaku, hell; he was acting like his father. Though it enraged me, I allowed Itachi to expel his anger because when he would discover the truth that alone would signal my victory. Over and over the beating continued until Itachi’s fist connected with the porcelain of my mask, causing a hairline crack to appear straight up the beak and under my left eye slit.
My back was pressed against one of the empty thrones that should’ve belonged to Orochimaru or another member that I hadn’t encountered. Itachi held me by the shoulder of my long-sleeved shirt, not recognising the similarities of my favourite shirt that I wore the banquet. His breath fanned my mask as he hunched over me, it looked like he was trying to remain conscious.
The crack only grew bigger.
Hidan craned his neck from his position beneath Kakuzu’s throne to see what the silence was all about. Deidara stood on the seat of his to try and get a better angle while Zetsu, Pein and Konan stayed stationary. Kisame on the other hand, took a step towards Itachi, but kept his distance unless his master called for assistance.
“I don’t want to repeat myself,” Itachi panted, “where did you get those eyes.”
“Yo–you’re so stupid,” I gripped my chest feebly to stop the pain, “Ita–Kun.”
Itachi’s eyes widened slightly, if we were under easier circumstances, he would’ve smirked, but his expression literally twitched. His lips parted while the whites of his eyes almost devoured his Sharingan. If he hadn’t figured out my existence yet, he truly was stupid.
The crack finally fragmented my mask into three jagged pieces of porcelain. The hollow clink of them hitting the dais beneath us was enough to raise the hairs on the back of my neck. My body shuddered restlessly, I’d sustained some multiple injuries during Itachi’s beating―mainly to my arms, neck and stomach, but Itachi’s hidden injuries seemed to plague him as well.
Itachi didn’t recognise me at first, mainly because I no longer looked childish, or spoke so lightly. My hair was longer but the foundations of my being were still the same, I wore the maroon bandana around my forehead instead of a hitai-ate and my clothing was still the same.
When the recognition came over Itachi, his grip tightened on both of my shoulders as he released a strange guttural noise, almost a moan.
“E–Etsuko?”