Results beyond reproach. Physical jutsu, ninjutsu, individual, team, battle technique: Sasuke was top of his class in all five subjects. If the early graduation system had still been in place, he would no doubt have been a candidate.
Sitting on the veranda, Itachi closed his little brother’s report card, and looked out at the garden. The Uchiha clan crest was proudly drawn on the wall fencing off the grounds. Sasuke stared at it, sad somehow.
“’Keep this up, and you’ll be just as amazing as your older brother,’ he said.” Sasuke muttered their father’s words dully. His negativity toward their father bled into his lifeless tone.
No …
Those feelings were toward Itachi.
Sasuke had simply wanted their father to recognize his achievements. But rather than understanding this, Fugaku had compared him with Itachi. For the child Sasuke, “like your older brother,” no matter how well intentioned, could never be praise. He was at an age where more than anything, he wanted to be noticed. How upset was he with his big brother? Not having an older brother himself, Itachi couldn’t truly understand how Sasuke felt.
Which was why he had decided to simply ask him.
“Are you upset with me?” he asked, a smile rising up on his face as he looked up at the evening sky, visible above the square wall.
Sasuke’s eyes grew wide in surprise, as though Itachi had read his mind. His reply was apparently wordless. He silently turned an upset gaze toward his brother.
“That’s fine,” Itachi started, gently. “I mean, it is true ninjas live hated by other people.”
Itachi himself didn’t remember how many he had killed. Those countless dead had had families and friends. For those people, he was a loathsome foe they would always hate. What happened to Kohinata Mukai’s sick child? he wondered suddenly.
“I-I don’t think …” His little brother faltered again. Sasuke was upset with his brother, but that wasn’t all of it. Sasuke’s honest and innocent eyes told Itachi there was also a love that won out over the bad feelings.
My own abilities torment my brother …
After all, Sasuke was plenty talented himself. He certainly wouldn’t get stuck looking backward. Even so, the enormity of Itachi’s existence threatened to crush him.
“Ha, ha. It’s tough being the best.” He smiled as well as he could, and looked at his younger brother. “Having power means being isolated, and it leads to arrogance. No matter how high people’s hopes were for you.”
The Uchiha clan wanted Itachi’s genius. But when he didn’t do what they wanted, they were annoyed, until finally, they ordered Shisui to watch him. If he had been a little more ingratiating, perhaps he could have built a friendlier relationship. It was Itachi’s own vision that would not allow that.
Rid this world of fighting …
A dream everyone had, that no one actually took seriously. But Itachi would not allow any compromises on the road to realizing this dream of his, because it was such a grand dream that if he permitted himself even a tiny compromise, he would never be able to make it come true. Which was why he couldn’t go along with them.
And as a result, Shisui …
Sasuke looked at his brother with worried eyes, concerned that Itachi had suddenly stopped speaking.
Itachi took a deep breath. “But … it’s just the two of us. I’ll always be there, like a wall you need to climb over.”
Tell him what you’ve decided about him …
“Even if it means being hated, that’s what big brothers are for.” He looked at Sasuke with feeling in his eyes.
His little brother opened his mouth, but his words were wiped out by the sound of the door being flung open.
“Itachi, you there?! Come out! We need to talk to you!!” Yashiro’s voice thundered from the entryway.
“It’s all right,” was all he said as he left his brother on the veranda, and turned his feet toward the front door.
On the right, Inabi; on the left, Yashiro. Behind them, Tekka stood at the ready. His father’s trusted retainers.
“What is it? What brings you all here?” Itachi asked coolly, faced with the dreadful light in their eyes.
“Only two people didn’t show up to yesterday’s meeting.” It was the long-haired Inabi who spoke first. His gaze was nothing other than hostile. “Where were you?!”
The roundabout way of speaking got Itachi’s hackles up.
Only two people didn’t show up to yesterday’s meeting …
Itachi and Shisui.
These three already knew about Shisui’s death. And on top of that, they first had to ask Itachi why he himself had been absent. Such a circuitous, pompous route to what they really wanted.
“Since joining the Anbu,” Inabi continued, glaring at the still-silent Itachi, “you’ve pulled us through many situations. We understand that. Your father said so, too, and he’s trying to defend you, but …”
Yashiro picked up where Inabi left off. “But we can’t make exceptions.” With these arrogant words, he placed himself above Itachi. His words existed in this series of events solely for that purpose.
Imbecile …
Itachi held back a sigh. And then he managed to spit out words, carrying the weight of his heavy heart. “I understand. I’ll be careful from now on. Now, are we done here?”
If he said anything more, his rage would boil over. And if that happened, Itachi wasn’t sure that he would be able to stop himself.
“Almost,” Yashiro said, lowering his voice slightly. “We do have a few more questions.” He was finally getting to the real point of this visit. “It’s about Uchiha Shisui. He threw himself into the Nakano River last night, and killed himself.”
Here we go …
“Shisui was the other person who didn’t show up at the meeting,” Inabi added. “And we know you adored him, like he was your own brother.”
And yet, knowing that, who exactly was it who ordered Shisui to watch me? Itachi pushed back the violent feelings that threatened to turn the voice of his heart into words; it was like swallowing a steel ball. And then he selected inoffensive words, packaged in the proper appearances.
“Is that so? I haven’t seen him at all lately … but what a terrible tragedy.”
Their meeting alone on that cliff was a secret that no one could ever know. He had no intention of telling men as shallow as these.
At this response from Itachi, the three policemen fell silent, still glaring at him as though he were the enemy.
“Well, the Military Police Force has decided to begin a full investigation.” Inabi’s extremely official-sounding words broke the silence.
“… Investigation?!”
“This is Shisui’s final note.” Yashiro pulled out a piece of paper folded in two, and handed it to Itachi. “A handwriting analysis was conducted. There’s no doubt Shisui himself wrote it.”
“If there’s no indication of murder, then what’s the investigation for?” Itachi asked.
“For a sharingan user, copying handwriting is easy,” Inabi replied.
Itachi took the note, and opened it.
“The content of his suicide note is all here on this tiny piece of paper,” Yashiro remarked.
Shisui’s suicide note …
The note that Itachi had written and secretly left in Shisui’s room that night, ordered to do so by the dying Shisui himself. He had only been apart from it for a dozen or so hours. Even now, he had the text of it memorized. He didn’t even need to look at it.
I’m tired of these missions.
At this rate, there’s no future
for Uchiha.
Or for me.
I can’t run counter to
the Path any longer.
What was the “Path” Shisui mentioned?
It was the path that each member of the clan who saw this text had in mind. He was tired of missions. The Uchihas had no future. He couldn’t run counter to the Path. These sorrowful words spelled out Uchiha Shisui’s pained cry, his hope to ease his clan’s rage by even the smallest amount.
But it appeared his message did not reach the brethren.
“He was one of the most talented of the clan,” Yashiro said. “And the best ever at teleportation. He was always the first to take on any mission for the sake of the clan.”
Any mission … Did he mean monitoring Itachi?
These were the men who had handed down the cowardly order to watch one of their own, and yet they forgot their own guilt. They applauded Shisui as a capable man, but Itachi could see, behind these fine words, that they thought of him as nothing other than a useful pawn. The flames of rage burned even more fiercely within him; their behavior was the ultimate in cowardice.
Unable to even sense this turmoil in Itachi, Inabi picked up where Yashiro left off. “It’s hard to believe a man like that would leave a note like this, and kill himself.”
Always thinking of yourselves …
“You shouldn’t judge people by appearances or preconceptions.” This was sarcasm, and also referred to himself. But there was no way these three would understand that.
“We’ll leave the note with you, for the time being,” Inabi continued, as though Itachi hadn’t spoken. “Take it back to the Anbu, and request their cooperation in the investigation.”
“Understood.”
The three men turned their backs, and Itachi was relieved. If the conversation had continued even a moment longer, he probably wouldn’t have been able to control his rage.
“Hopefully, we’ll get some sort of lead,” Yashiro spat when he crossed the threshold.
Without looking back, the silent-so-far Tekka told Itachi, “We have alternate information channels into the Anbu. If you destroy the note, we’ll know.”
That’s it … Itachi clenched the hand clutching Shisui’s note. “Why don’t you just say it?”
About to pass through the gates, all three men stopped. When they turned around, their eyes were shining crimson. A desire for murder filled the air between the four ninjas.
He wanted nothing more.
“You think I did this?” Itachi’s field of view was dyed red.
“In fact, we do, you child.” Inabi said through clenched teeth.
Yashiro faced Itachi again. “Listen, Itachi,” he said, murderously. “If you did indeed betray the clan, you will pay.”
Itachi’s body was faster than his voice, faster than his thoughts. He launched a kick at Yashiro’s throat, caught Inabi in the face with his arm as he whirled around, and plunged his knee into the pit of Tekka’s stomach. As he whirled around to face forward again, the three tumbled clumsily to the ground, and Itachi stood tall in the middle.