Chương 37: White Reflections - 1

"I'm done eating." Shino set his chopsticks down quietly and rose from the table, heading toward his room without another word.

"You're not going out, Shino?" His mother looked up, genuinely surprised.

"It's Saturday."

"You should spend more time with your friends," Shibi added.

"I'm staying in. The kikaichū I've been raising are entering their breeding cycle." Shino didn't turn around. He walked into his room and shut the door behind him.

"..."

"..."

"That boy's getting more withdrawn by the day." His mother sighed.

"He only ever sees Shin and Kiba anymore." Shibi set his own chopsticks down slowly, his gaze lingering on Shino's closed door....... Inside Shino's room, a wire-mesh cage sat on the desk beside his bed. He settled into the chair in front of it and stared. The cage was alive with kikaichū—hundreds of tiny black insects crawling over one another in an endless, restless tide. He'd been spending most of his weekends like this lately. Studying them. Shin trained every day off.

Kiba had brought other friends around a few times, but Shino had no interest in going out, and even less in joining any circle beyond Shin and Kiba. His eyes didn't move from the swarm. Then, slowly, he reached for the hatch on top of the cage and slid it open. He raised one hand. Hesitated. Finally, as if forcing himself past some invisible threshold, he extended his right hand toward the opening and began lowering it inside—"You'll die." The voice came from nowhere.

Shino flinched and jerked his hand back, spinning around to find his father standing directly behind him. He glanced at the door. Still shut.

"Father." His voice was barely audible.

"I've taught you this." Shibi's tone was flat, unhurried.

"Kikaichū that aren't bonded to you will drain every drop of your chakra and kill you. They aren't your symbiotic insects. You don't touch them." Shino pressed his lips together and reached over to slide the cage hatch shut.

"You didn't consider the consequences?" Shino was quiet for a long moment. Then, still not looking up: "Father."

"What."

"When can I have my own symbiotic insects?" Behind his dark glasses, Shibi's eyes shifted. The question caught him off guard.

"It's too early for you." Shino raised his head. He wasn't wearing his glasses today, and the incomprehension in his gaze was plain—raw, undisguised.

"Don't let your emotions show so easily," Shibi said.

"I've taught you that as well."

"Torune started learning the clan's secret techniques a year ago." The words came out with a stubborn edge. Silence.

"Is that what this is about?" Shibi asked after a pause. Shino lowered his head and shook it.

"Do you like insects?" Another shake.

"It's not that I like them. But we're Aburame." He tilted his head, thinking it through.

"We're meant to live alongside insects. That's just what our clan does." He looked up.

"Do you like them, Father?"

"... No."

"Oh."

"If it's not because you like them, and it's not because of Torune—then why are you in such a rush?" Shibi studied the small, serious face in front of him.

"Do you understand what it means? What it costs?" I was hoping you could live as a normal child a little while longer, Shino... Shino sat with his head bowed, turning something over in his mind. The room was very still. Neither of them spoke. A long time passed before Shino's voice broke the silence.

"Father..."

"There's someone... I'm falling further and further behind."

"He moves too fast. I—""I don't want to be left behind."

"..." Konoha's market district buzzed with its usual weekend energy. Kiba was wandering aimlessly through the streets with a group of classmates when he heard someone calling his name. He looked around and spotted Naruto waving at him from down the road, arms swinging wide.

"Him again?" Kiba muttered under his breath. The kids around him noticed Naruto too—pointing, whispering. None of them were exactly friendly with the boy. Naruto jogged up, slightly out of breath, and stopped in front of Kiba. His eyes swept over the group behind him.

"Where's Shin?" Naruto grinned.

"What do you want with him?" Kiba didn't answer the question.

"Just... stuff. Heh." Naruto scratched the back of his head, all smiles.

"Yeah, right. What could you possibly have going on." Naruto kept grinning, unbothered.

"He's training. He won't have time for you." Kiba's voice was flat. If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

"Training?" Naruto blinked, then remembered—he'd heard that Shin spent his days off training.

"Where?"

"I'm not telling you. You'll just bother him."

"Aw, come on, Kiba! Just tell me!" Naruto's expression crumpled. He grabbed Kiba's arm with both hands, his voice turning wheedling.

"No!"

"Kiba, pleeeease—""You're so annoying! I said no!" Kiba shook him off, scowling.

"You think Shin's got nothing better to do like you?"

"Hey, Kiba—you coming or what?" One of his friends called out. They'd clustered together, keeping a conspicuous distance from Naruto.

"Yeah, yeah." Kiba waved at them, then turned back to Naruto.

"I'm leaving. Don't follow us."

"Ah... okay." Naruto stood rooted to the spot, watching Kiba's group turn and walk away. He opened his mouth, then closed it again. Nothing to say.

"Kiba, why do you even hang out with that kid?"

"Yeah, you should really stay away from him."

"God, you guys are annoying. Why are you telling me this?"

"..." They hadn't gone far. The voices carried clearly, every word reaching Naruto's ears. His fist tightened. Then loosened, limp. He'd long since gotten used to it. Naruto turned slowly, head down, and started to walk away.

"Hey!" Kiba's voice rang out behind him. Naruto stopped.

"Dead last!" He spun around. Kiba had stopped a short distance away, visibly irritated, glaring at him.

"The western forest. Go find him yourself." Kiba turned on his heel and rejoined his friends without another word.

"Oh... oh." Naruto stared at Kiba's retreating back for a long moment before the words registered. Two small sounds of acknowledgment tumbled out, delayed and dazed. Uchiha compound. Itachi arrived home to find the house quiet. Mikoto told him Sasuke was at the training grounds out back. He walked out and saw the small figure standing at the edge of the pond, hands moving through seal after seal. With Itachi's perception, he could read every detail from this distance. Great Fireball, huh...

Father must have taught him. Sasuke repeated the jutsu without rest—one attempt after another, small bursts of flame sputtering from his lips. Watching him, Itachi felt something in his gaze soften.

"Sasuke really does look up to you, you know." A voice from beside him—close, casual. Itachi spun, hand instinctively dropping, and found Fugaku standing at his shoulder as if he'd been there the whole time. Not a trace of his presence. Nothing. Itachi had been at ease, not on alert—but even so. He hadn't sensed his father at all.

"What's wrong? That's quite a reaction." Fugaku smiled. It was a warm expression. Easy. As if they really were just a father and son watching the youngest practice. A searing discomfort flared behind Itachi's eyes, followed instantly by a pain so acute it defied description. With Fugaku standing right there, Itachi could only lower his head and clench his jaw, forcing his hands to stay at his sides.

"I'll be in my room." He kept his voice level, turned, and walked away without another word. Fugaku watched him go—the rigid back, the quick retreat—and his eyes slowly narrowed. Itachi... did someone put you under a genjutsu?...... Itachi knelt on the tatami in his room, both hands pressed against his face. The pain was blinding. Cold sweat soaked through his clothes, and his body trembled no matter how hard he tried to hold still. He didn't understand why. Was it the Tsukuyomi?

When I saw Shin today—when it activated on its own? But the side effects shouldn't be this severe. He gritted his teeth and endured in silence. Every second stretched into an eternity. Eventually he collapsed onto the tatami, drenched in sweat, the agony receding like a tide pulling back from shore. What's happening to me... He lay there, staring at his own hand through blurred vision. A windowless room, deep in the village's administrative labyrinth.

Danzō sat elevated above three ROOT operatives who knelt on the stone floor, masked and motionless. An unrolled scroll rested in his left hand. His eye moved across its contents—the latest intelligence report. Shisui Uchiha had drowned himself in the Naka River. The Uchiha clan was coordinating with ANBU to investigate. And from Shisui's body, both eyes were missing. The right eye was here, with Danzō. So where was the left? His brow furrowed. This was not good news.

His interest in Kotoamatsukami went beyond covetousness—another copy of that power in someone else's hands was a genuine threat. Did Fugaku take it? The possibility had merit. Fugaku's suspicion level was the highest by far. But thinking it through more carefully—Fugaku had been the one to reveal Shisui's Kotoamatsukami to Danzō in the first place, deliberately maneuvering Danzō into eliminating Shisui. Fugaku would have anticipated that Kotoamatsukami might fall into Danzō's hands.

Which meant Fugaku either had a countermeasure against Kotoamatsukami, or he simply wasn't afraid of it. If not Fugaku, then who? Or had Shisui truly killed himself? If the man genuinely cared about the village that much... then yes. Suicide made sense.

"Who was closest to Shisui Uchiha?" Danzō's voice dropped low.

"Within the Uchiha clan—Itachi Uchiha," one of the kneeling operatives answered.

"Itachi always treated Shisui as an older brother. This is widely known among the Uchiha." Itachi Uchiha... The prodigy in ANBU. The double agent. That was the impression Itachi had left on Danzō.

"He's Fugaku's son. His loyalties have always been... flexible." Danzō let out a cold, quiet laugh.

"If Shisui entrusted Kotoamatsukami to him, that would be laughable." He'd dealt with Itachi before. In Danzō's estimation, there was no chance Itachi would carry on Shisui's will. Not just because of Itachi's own nature—but because of where he came from. A man like Fugaku Uchiha would never raise a son who stood with Shisui against him.

"There is one other," the ROOT operative continued. Danzō's gaze sharpened.

"Shin Takami. He had contact with Shisui Uchiha."

"Shin Takami?" Danzō paused, cycling through names before placing it.

"Tsukasa Takami's son. A child?" What could a child possibly do.

"He was observed sharing a meal with Shisui on the street."

"That's all?" A single meal proved nothing. The operative spoke again.

"Given Shisui's sensitive status at the time, a background check was conducted on Shin Takami afterward. His shuriken scores at the Academy rival those of Uchiha students—and his technique is specifically the Uchiha throwing form."

"The suspicion is that a mentor-student relationship may have existed between them."

"Teaching a clan technique to an outsider..." Danzō's eyes narrowed, a thin smile forming.

"Shisui. You really were careless."

"Lord Danzō, shall we open a deeper investigation on him?"

"No." Danzō waved it off.

"The boy's background makes him... politically inconvenient. Pressing too hard would provoke certain parties."

"Besides, Shisui wasn't foolish enough to entrust the Mangekyō to an orphaned child."

"Kotoamatsukami is still in Uchiha hands." The Hokage's office. Hiruzen Sarutobi stood at the floor-to-ceiling window, gazing out over the rooftops of the village below. From here, he could see all the way to the Hokage Monument.

"Grandpa!" A child's voice burst through the door. A middle-aged woman entered the office leading a boy who couldn't have been older than three. The moment the child saw Hiruzen, his face lit up.

"Well, if it isn't Konohamaru." A warm, grandfatherly smile spread across Hiruzen's face.

"He's been begging to see you all morning. I couldn't hold him off any longer," the woman said with an apologetic shake of her head. Hiruzen chuckled and crossed the room to scoop Konohamaru up, carrying him to the desk and settling into his chair with the boy on his lap. The woman excused herself.

"Grandpa, whatcha doing?" Konohamaru's voice was high and soft, all rounded vowels.

"Grandpa has to work." Hiruzen smiled.

"Work?" Konohamaru blinked his large eyes at his grandfather, the concept entirely foreign. His attention drifted to the stacks of papers covering the desk. Like a child spotting a new toy, he reached out and grabbed one of the sheets. A two-inch photograph was printed on it. The person in the photo had short black hair with a slight wave, a handsome face, and slightly upturned eyes that gave him an almost delicate beauty.

"Pretty... pretty brother..." Konohamaru pointed at the photograph, his voice soft with awe.

"Pretty indeed." Hiruzen chuckled—but his gaze, as it fell on the document, grew complicated.

"What's this?" Konohamaru's small finger found a red stamp pressed into the corner of the page. Two characters inside a square seal. Deceased. Hiruzen looked at his own stamp with something heavy behind his eyes, and gently took the document from the boy's hands.

"Pretty... pretty brother..." Konohamaru whined, reaching for his confiscated toy.

"Now, now. This isn't something to play with," Hiruzen soothed him, keeping his voice light. Konohamaru fussed for a moment, then tired of it, and turned his attention to a heavy tome sitting on the corner of the desk. He tried to lift it. Couldn't. Hiruzen smiled and picked the book up himself, opening it in front of the boy. The cover bore a title in large, dark characters: The Annals of Konoha.

"This is the history of our village, Konohamaru. You'll study it someday." The words meant nothing to the boy. He flipped to the first page and found a line of text on the title page. Unable to read, he pointed at it and looked up at Hiruzen.

"Grandpa. Read."

"..." Hiruzen looked at the inscription and fell silent. The Uchiha...

"Grandpa, read!" Konohamaru tugged at his sleeve. The Third Hokage was still for another moment. Then, slowly, he began." Once, there were those who despised one another..."" Their corpses rotted in the fields. Their blood stained the souls of heroes."" Bonds were severed by the blade."" And true hearts wept in the darkness..."