Chương 56: Ten Years

The Uchiha clan head's residence. In the bedroom, Fugaku sat on the tatami with a scroll unrolled across his lap. His face was grim, the lines between his brows cut deep. A black cat lay at his feet — a ninneko, one of the clan's messenger cats. The door slid open with a soft creak. Mikoto stepped inside and paused when she saw the scroll.

"What happened?"

"Makoto." Fugaku's voice was heavy.

"I ordered him to hold. He didn't listen." He held out the scroll. Mikoto took it and read quickly, her expression darkening with every line.

"What do we do now?" she asked.

"The Hokage's side has eyes inside our clan — they always have. There's no way Makoto's movements went unnoticed." Fugaku stared at the floor.

"The Uchiha may have just lost everything." Mikoto set down the scroll and placed her hand on his shoulder. Her face settled into something calm and steady.

"This is my fault, in the end." Fugaku let out a long breath.

"I'm the one who fell behind schedule. I never imagined Itachi could break Wakahirume..." Even now, the exhaustion hadn't left his features. The toll of his Mangekyō was one thing — he'd expected that. Channeling his ocular power to interfere with the Fugaku inside Wakahirume's constructed reality had cost him dearly. But the real damage came when Itachi shattered the technique from within, using the phantom Shisui's Kotoamatsukami. That had exceeded anything his body could absorb.

It had thrown all his plans off course.

"My ocular power is slow to recover. The original plan was to move soon. My Mangekyō can still control the Nine-Tails — that much is fine. But facing the Hokage and his forces at the same time, without Wakahirume, relying only on Osanabi... it won't be enough. And if my ocular power falters mid-battle and the Nine-Tails breaks free—" He shook his head.

"The village would be destroyed." His voice dropped to a murmur.

"If that happened... Tsukasa would never forgive me." A bitter laugh escaped him. Mikoto watched the anguish work across his face. She reached for his clenched fists and gently, finger by finger, uncurled them. Fugaku looked at her. Then he closed his hand around hers and held on. The room went quiet. Beyond the window, the sky was dimming. The two of them sat there in the gathering dark, saying nothing.

"Mikoto." She waited.

"If—" He faltered.

"If I fail—" He didn't finish. A laugh broke out of him — low, fractured, teetering between madness and grief. He pressed his free hand over his face.

"I can't believe I'm saying this..."

"Has it really come to this?" He closed his eyes. Lowered his head. Itachi... Do you despise me that much?

"Fugaku." Mikoto spoke softly. Her hands closed over his, and her gaze — when he met it — was warm and unshakable. His breathing steadied. He opened his eyes halfway, lashes low.

"Mikoto. Come somewhere with me."

"…"

"Tsukasa and Yuki... they're waiting for us."...... Twilight settled over Konoha. One by one, the windows of the village lit up — warm, golden, ordinary. The kind of quiet evening that made the world feel like it would go on this way forever. At the Uchiha Military Police headquarters, the air in front of the main gate shuddered. Space twisted inward, folding into a spiraling vortex, and from its center stepped a figure in a dark robe and a mask of black patterns. A blade hung at his hip. Evening. The Academy.

"All right, that's it for today. Don't forget your homework." Iruka gathered his materials and stepped out of the classroom. The room erupted into noise. Students shoved notebooks into bags, chairs scraped against the floor, and within seconds a stream of bodies was flooding toward the exit.

"Let's go, Hachidori."

"See you tomorrow."

"Bye, Ino."

"See you tomorrow." Friends called out to each other in the easy, thoughtless way of children who assumed tomorrow was guaranteed.

"See you tomorrow, Kiba."

"Yeah." Kiba's response came out flat. He stayed at his desk, shoving his textbook into his bag without looking up.

"No energy when Shin and Shino aren't around, huh?" Kiba raised his head. Shikamaru and Choji were standing in front of his desk, Shikamaru with his usual half-slouched posture, Choji already unwrapping a bag of chips. Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. Kiba rolled his eyes. Shikamaru gave a small grin, unbothered. He turned and left with Choji in tow.

"See you tomorrow."

"..." Kiba let out a quiet sigh. He slung his bag over one shoulder and headed for the door. Naruto wasn't in much better shape. He drifted out of the Academy alone, hands in his pockets, feet dragging toward home. Sasuke, on the other hand, broke from his usual pace. He shot out of the classroom the moment Iruka was gone, moving fast — practically running. He'd made plans. Tonight, Itachi was going to practice shuriken with him. The sky had already darkened by the time they were dismissed.

A full moon hung in the sky — enormous, impossibly close — and its light poured down like spilled silver, making every rooftop and cobblestone sharp enough to cut. The taijutsu block that afternoon had run long. That was why they'd been let out so late. But it didn't matter. If they couldn't do shuriken, they could do something else. Anything was fine, really, as long as his brother was there. That single thought was enough to make the whole tedious day at school worth it.

Sasuke sprinted through the streets of Konoha, heading home. The Uchiha compound. Under the bright, unsparing moon, the compound was silent. Not the comfortable quiet of a late evening — a dead silence, absolute and wrong, a world apart from the bustle of the village beyond its walls. Lights glowed in the windows of some homes. But the streets were empty. Not a single figure moved through them. And inside each house — the same awful stillness.

Dark streaks ran across the ground, trailing from doorways, pooling along the gutters. Under the silver moonlight, they gleamed a deep, terrible red.... Itachi moved down a corridor, blade in hand, each step careful and nearly silent. He passed door after door, his senses stretched taut, scanning for anything.

"Itachi..." The voice came from behind a half-open door. His father's voice. His chest seized. He stopped. Didn't enter. The blade in his grip sagged, as though the strength had drained from his arm all at once.

"Come in. There are no traps." Fugaku's voice again — steady, resigned. As if he'd been waiting. It's come to this between us. Itachi pushed the door open slowly. Fugaku and Mikoto sat side by side with their backs to him. Neither turned around.

"So you chose their side." Something inside Itachi twisted, sharp and sudden.

"..."

"Does it hurt, Itachi?" Fugaku's voice was quiet. Unhurried. The voice of a man who had already made his peace.

"I'm sorry. As your parents... we couldn't help you carry this." A bitter, broken sound escaped Fugaku — something too short and too sad to be called a laugh.

"..." The blade trembled in Itachi's hand. Then his whole arm.

"Dad..."

"Take care of Sasuke for us." Fugaku lowered his head. A soft breath of a laugh, and nothing more.

"I... I know." Itachi's voice was barely above a whisper.

"Don't be afraid, Itachi." I built a future for you. I never imagined it would drive you down this road instead... Fugaku closed his eyes.

"There's no turning back now." Itachi's knees hit the floor behind them. Both hands white-knuckled around the hilt, tendons standing out like wire. His face was set, jaw clenched, silent — but tears had already carved two lines down his cheeks.

"Even though we see things differently... I've always been proud of you."

"..." A single sob broke free. Itachi drew a sharp, shuddering breath. The short blade still shook in his hands.

"You really are... a kind child." Live well. A faint smile settled on Fugaku's face — peaceful, as if something heavy had finally been set down. He reached out and took Mikoto's hand. The oppressive black sky. The moon-washed earth below, every surface etched in cold clarity. Across the Uchiha compound, ANBU operatives began to appear — dark shapes leaping from rooftop to rooftop, converging from every direction.

"Took them long enough. ANBU's gotten slow." From atop a high building, the masked man looked down over the compound. Every movement below was visible from where he stood. A Venus flytrap emerged from the roof at his feet. The voice had been its.

"Those aren't ANBU," the masked man said.

"They're ROOT. Danzō's the only one who'd mobilize this fast — ANBU wouldn't operate inside the Uchiha compound without a direct order from the Hokage." A pause.

"Though ANBU won't be far behind."

"So the Uchiha clan is finished, just like that." White Zetsu's tone carried a rare note of something almost like sadness.

"Facing your old clan and not even flinching." He turned the observation toward the masked man. A hint of amusement underneath.

"Cold."

"I have no use for the past." The masked man's voice was low, final.

"Only the future."

"..." Zetsu's form sank back into the building beneath the masked man's feet. His presence vanished with it. A figure flickered into existence directly behind the masked man. A shinobi in a mask.

"It's done?" the masked man said.

"You—""It's nothing. Let's go."

"You go ahead." Itachi's voice was quiet.

"I still need to have a word with the village leadership." The masked man glanced back at him. Said nothing more. From where he stood, space began to fold. A spiraling vortex appeared out of nothing, pulling inward, and swallowed him whole. Itachi took two steps forward. His gaze swept the compound below. On the street, a small figure was hurrying home.

"Itachi, heading out?" Mikoto came quickly down the hallway, two bento boxes in her hands, catching Itachi just as he was lacing up his sandals by the door. He wore a green flak jacket over his standard blues. A Konoha headband across his forehead.

"It's a C-rank mission, so we're leaving the village. Better to head out early." Itachi smiled.

"Sasuke ran off first thing this morning — didn't even take his lunch. Bring his along, will you?" Mikoto shook her head, half-exasperated.

"It's his first time leaving the village. Can't blame him for being excited." Itachi finished with his sandals and stood, shouldering his pack.

"I'm counting on you to look after him out there." Mikoto held out the bento boxes, her gaze warm and gentle.

"I know. I'm off."

"Be careful." Mikoto watched him go. When his back disappeared around the corner, something flickered in her eyes — there and gone before it could be named.

"Sis." She had been standing at the doorway for some time, about to turn back inside, when a man walked up the front path. Middle-aged, familiar.

"Makoto." Her face softened into a smile when she saw who it was.

"Here for Fugaku?"

"Yeah — is he in?" Makoto Uchiha asked with an easy grin.

"He's already left."

"Ah." Makoto gave a resigned laugh.

"Did Itachi leave too?"

"Just now."

"Hah..." He let out a sigh.

"Sagiri's first time going that far from home. I'm worried, honestly."

"Itachi's with them. What could go wrong?" Mikoto said, amused.

"And Shin's there too."

"That kid's exactly why I'm worried." Makoto made a face — part grimace, part mock outrage.

"Sagiri's twelve now. She has her own mind. Let the children sort things out — we don't need to hover." Mikoto laughed. Makoto grumbled for another moment, then shifted gears.

"Oh — my wife wanted you to come over around noon. You'll be alone in the house anyway. Keep each other company."

"All right. I'll be there." …… The Takami house.

"Fugaku, good morning." Yuki Takami opened the front door and smiled when she saw who it was.

"Tsukasa — Fugaku's here," she called over her shoulder, stepping aside to let him in. Fugaku walked through the garden. Behind him, Yuki noticed the two bottles of sake he carried in one hand, held loosely at his side. In the living room, Tsukasa Takami sat at the low table, a book open in his hands. Fugaku crossed to him and set the bottles down on the tabletop. Tsukasa glanced up, expression flat, then looked back at his book.

"Showing up at my door with sake this early in the morning. Must be weighing on you." He turned a page. Fugaku sat down across from him. Yuki appeared with two cups and set them between the two men.

"It's been a while since we drank together." Fugaku smiled.

"Felt like having a couple." Tsukasa closed his book and watched Fugaku arrange the cups and pour. He picked up his cup when Fugaku slid it across.

"Now that you mention it — ever since you became Hokage, you've been too busy to breathe, let alone drink." Tsukasa grinned.

"When was the last time? Us two, sitting like this?" They touched cups. Fugaku tilted his head back and drained his in one swallow. He set the cup down softly — a small, precise sound — and stared at it. Something complicated moved behind his eyes.

"When was it..." Tsukasa smacked his lips, thinking.

"Right! Last year, when Itachi got promoted to jonin. You drank plenty that night, I remember." Fugaku didn't respond. He poured himself another cup. The sake spilled over the rim, running down the side. He drank it in one motion, then murmured: "The last time... almost ten years ago."

"Ten years?" Tsukasa looked up, puzzled.

"Yeah." Fugaku's voice was barely there.

"For me... it's been ten years."