No matter. I turned to Itachi and grabbed his hands. With my most comforting smile, I squeezed his hands, feeling the skin that was already starting to harden on his palms. Just like that, Itachi chuckled. Innocent, childish, finally befitting of his age.
Reaching for another rubber shuriken, I turned to Shisui and asked, "Again." The older boy shook his head in exasperation, but he flicked a shuriken into his hands out of nowhere, all with that cheeky smile on his face.
However, before the training session could continue, all of us heard the commotion that was just across the backyard.
"It sounds like … someone is arguing." Shisui leaned into the wooden wall, trying to decipher the nature of the disturbance.
"... Thief … ashamed … dare … gouge … eye …" All I could hear from the conversation were broken words and it was not the kind that spoke of a friendly discussion. Shisui must have noticed it too. The boy that was usually brimming with cheekiness frowned with seriousness.
"Bullies," Shisui muttered under his breath, clearly recognizing the voices when Itachi and I didn't. Shisui looked at us, a debate brewing in his brain. But soon, he made a decision and proposed to us, "Let's go see what it's about."
Shisui couldn't just leave us alone when it was a duty given by our parents. However, I didn't think it was necessary for him to bend down and wave at me to get on his back.
"Come on, your legs are short. We have to be fast," Shisui said. Excuse me? By that standard, Itachi's legs were also short. But the commotion was getting louder and definitely more heated, so I pushed down my argument and did what he asked.
With some stealth moves - well, as best as a six-year-old prodigy could make it - Shisui snuck us over the fence and right into the heart of the disturbance. It was a good thing that the ones in it were much too engrossed in their business to notice the uninvited guest - or to be more exact, all of them except for one.
"How dare you step foot into the Uchiha Compound, snooping around with a stolen Sharingan." The trio of black-haired teens - Uchiha, no doubt about it - cornered the boy with peculiar silver hair as its leader spat out the strong words.
The silver-haired boy, on the other hand, spared a look for us, movement too minute for his accusers to notice in their heated emotion. Standing motionlessly under the oak tree, he replied, with such a dispassionate tone that it almost sounded like he was mocking, "I'm not snooping around. I was told to wait here."
Perhaps it was the boy's reply, or maybe it was the way he pulled his headband even lower over his left eye, the leader of the trio snapped in irritation and charged forward, yelling, "Who are you mocking, thinking you can hide the evidence of your crime with a hitai-ate?"
The Uchiha teenager thrust his hand forward violently, but it was something else that made my breath freeze in my lungs. I could barely see it, the tension that amplified in the silver-haired boy's muscles, all in the span of a millisecond, just like an injured leopard. It was never him that was the prey.
But the tension unwound as quickly as it built up. The boy merely took a step back, so that his attacker's hand only grabbed the headband and pulled it off of his head. The Uchiha teenager was turning purple in the face and he was clearly someone that couldn't brake on his own.
"What's this, Keiichi? You've fallen behind on training so much that you can't find any Uchiha you can bully, so now you're harassing guests. Is that it?" Shisui yelled from across the alley. He was always very good at getting on people's nerves, I must say.
"What did you say, you little …" Keiichi swung his head to the side, but his curse words died in panic when he saw Itachi and me there, knowing that our parents, the Head of his Clan, would not appreciate what he was about to say.
That panic only lasted for a moment though, until he glanced back at the poor boy he was terrorizing and seemingly found a conviction for his behaviour.
"Stay out of this, Shisui. He is a criminal to our clan. I'm doing what every Uchiha would have done," Uchiha Keiichi shouted, his eyes shifting between Shisui and the silver-haired boy as if he was trying to scare both into submission.
"Yeah, go back to babysitting." Another backed up his leader, fueling the flame of 'justice' that must be brewing in Keiichi's chest.
"Of course you wouldn't understand, seeing that you don't even have the Sharingan," Keiichi mocked with a smirk. His eyes flashed red for a second, showing the blood-like irides and a single ink-coloured tomoe spinning around each of his pupils.
Sharingan this, Sharingan that. Every Uchiha Elder that looked at me reminded me of how important, how prestigious, and how miraculous those eyes in my sockets were, regardless of a child my age could understand. It was as if they were looking through my underdeveloped eyes for a different future that I wasn't aware of.
But right now, when I look at Uchiha Keiichi's Sharingan, all I could see was arrogance and blinded pride. I lowered my head and hid my face behind Shisui before my eyes could start to sting.
Despite the incredible visual acuity that Sharingan could give me, I lacked control with my chakra system still in development. It wasn't unusual for another pair of Sharingan to rile it up - to result in a forced activation - as proven plenty of times by the Elders trying to get a better gauge of my Sharingan. To test its potential, they said.
I could feel the way Shisui tightened his fist, not necessarily because of what the older Uchiha were saying about him, but the fact that they were twisting their logic - twisting the Uchiha name - to justify their selfish actions. But one could hardly win a battle of words with fools who refused to listen. Unfortunately for Shisui - and perhaps the silver-haired boy as well - he had reasons holding him down from bruising the older boy's ego, the old fashion way.
To deal with this kind of people required one to have a thick skin. Still, it pained me to have to resort to this.
I tapped Shisui's shoulder as a signal of some sort that we definitely did not agree upon. Before Shisui could turn to me, I dug my nails into my palm until the pain squeezed out the tears in an unmitigated biological response.
With no other warnings, I started crying.
Shisui gawked for a moment, but before the scale in his mind could tip to the side that said 'absolute panic', the shinobi side of him quickly gathered the situation and found the best way to capitalize on this opening.
"Oh no! What have you done!" Shisui exclaimed with enough dramatism to last him for a month. "Your shouting is making Hime-sama cry!" Okay, I thought we had an agreement on that name.
"Do you hear it, the fear in her voice! Oh my, what would Uncle Fugaku say, after he learns that you made his daughter ball her cute little eyes out like this!" The moment those words left Shisui's mouth, I had to use every bit of self-restraint I had not to strangle him. The rage fueled me and I cried even harder. "Uncle Fugaku, where are you? It's an emergency—"
"Shut it!" Uchiha Keiichi couldn't help but interrupt Shisui in a panic as if my cries could actually summon my father here. The boy laid his eyes on me, annoyance mixed with fear towards the Clan Head, then he glared at Shisui with a burning rage that had nowhere to explode.
"Let's go, come on!" Keiichi waved at his band of friends while whispering in a hushed tone. Given everything, he didn't want to be caught at the scene with the Clan Head's child crying because of him. If he left now, the blame would only be placed on Shisui and the guest.
Still, he had the audacity to leave his biting words, "This isn't over, Shisui, you better—" I wailed at a higher decibel and that made the Uchiha teenager forget his words and scram even faster.
I counted five seconds after they were out of sight before I cut the cries like hitting the off button on a recording machine. After all, I didn't actually want to get Shisui or the silver-haired boy in trouble. Still, I was crying so fiercely that I had to take a few moments to catch my breath, making it sound like I had broken airways.
"Whoa. I didn't know you could cry like that. Just don't use it to screw me over in the future, deal?" Shisui whispered but he could barely contain his laughter. I, on the other hand, couldn't help but roll my eyes.
Gently, Itachi rubbed me on the back, trying to ease my breathing back to normal. His panic died the moment Shisui started performing his lines like an idiot.
This meant that the only one confused here was the boy being cornered under the oak tree. When Shisui returned his attention to him, the boy's hands looked like they had nowhere to be, stuck in a state in which he wanted to help but had no idea how.
Realization seemed to dawn on him when my cries went silent. Shisui's comment was the last piece of confirmation he needed. The silver-haired boy let out a sigh of relief before he retreated back to the shell he was before - passive, dispassionate, enduring.
With light steps, Shisui approached the boy with Itachi and me in tow. "Sorry about them. Keiichi is always like that, picking on people that are above fighting back." Shisui pressed his lips together after that. He couldn't offer anything else when he didn't really know the context, only knowing the rights and wrongs on an instinctual level.
The boy seemed to think so too, for he merely shook his head before bending down to pick up his fallen headband, squeezing his left eye shut the entire time. I could see how his silence could be interpreted as rude by the wrong person.
"Yours." The boy paused at the small hand stretched towards him, offering the headband before he could bend down fully. Itachi kept his big, soft eyes on the older boy, unafraid of his lone-wolf attitude and having none of the intention to pry.
"I … thank you." The silent aura surrounding the boy cracked a little as he accepted the headband from Itachi. Perhaps the boy didn't even realize it, but his body relaxed ever so slightly - including the eyelid that he kept shut until now.
If Sharingan was a manifestation of one's emotion, then what would one see from the other side of the window when the curtain couldn't be pulled shut? My eyes opened way too early before any semblance of control could be gained. I had always wondered - worried - if those that examined my Sharingan could see what fueled it underneath - the emotions and memories that shouldn't belong to Uchiha Maiko.
The pool of red was embedded in the boy's left socket. The two tomoe spun in and out of the shadow created by his lashes like ink blots. Guilt, sorrow, regret … It felt like I was invading a private territory as my eyes took in every little detail like a snapshot of the camera.
I should have realized before the splitting headache crashed down. My Sharingan was triggered into activation by another.
(づ｡◕‿‿◕｡)づ fuwa~fuwa~desu~~~
Nothing really happened.
According to Shisui, I fainted from the chakra drain, almost stopped his poor heart, and the commotion disrupted a meeting between Father and a really famous shinobi in Konoha. It's Namikaze-san, the Yellow Flash himself. They said that he's going to become the next Hokage, Shisui had said with admiration oozing out of his eyes.
No harm was done - no more than the usual, anyway - so being reasonable people, my parents did not take it out on Shisui or the silver-haired boy that was unfortunate enough to be caught up in this, or so they had reassured me.
I didn't see that boy under the oak tree again, nor had I learned anything more about him. His existence was like a taboo, to be buried under the rug as if the stain wouldn't exist as long as it was out of sight. When asking Shisui proved to be no more informative, I wasn't about to look for trouble when I had other things on my plate.
At the age of three, my chakra system was deemed sufficiently developed. My sharingan no longer caused a splitting headache when activated, although I still couldn't use it for too long before my chakra was exhausted. The sight of another pair of red eyes no longer made it spring to life without my permission. I hoped that this also meant that I had sufficient control over what was shown in my eyes - things that I wanted to hide and bury under a rug.
What accompanied this stabilization of the chakra system was, of course, an advancement in training. Like the rainwater that descended onto a land of drought, the chakra was life to everything that defined a shinobi. It not only formed the basis of ninjutsu, but was also used as a form of bodily enhancement, allowing shinobi to push their speed, their strength, and their agility to be above the physical limits.
Shisui no longer visited us as often as before, but Father had reassured me repeatedly that it wasn't because of what had happened that day under the oak tree, but the fact that Shisui had his own training to do. Itachi and I, too, must proceed with training that was befitting of our levels. This made the time that Shisui could spare with us precious indeed.
"What's that, Maiko-hime? Do I hear you asking for advice on your body-flicker?" That annoying tone peaked out from behind the leaves as the boy with the curly hair teased with feigned innocence.
"You're hallucinating," I muttered under my breath as I balanced myself, speaking the vocabulary that was clearly out of a three-year-old's league. But it was always okay with Itachi and Shisui. It made this whole ordeal of acting and pretending a lot less suffocating.
I eyed the circle drawn by white chalk, just a dozen metres away, tucked in between a nest of tree roots. Tuning my breathing in rhythm, I pushed the chakra into my limbs and ignited that one moment of explosive release. The wind sliced past my skin for a split second and the world halted again. My feet landed in the white circle, that was, until the momentum pushed me sideways and I had to take a step to steady myself.
Shisui let out a snicker from above, making me look up just to roll my eyes at him. He brushed off my irritation with a wave of his hands. The branches under his feet shook and in the blink of an eye, he had already landed on another one.
"Come on, say it," Shisui's voice echoed around me as he body-flickered away without a pause. "'Shisui-senpai, please teach me your way', that's all I need." Another body-flicker and he was behind me. "I promise that you won't regret it."
Immediately, I turned around with a shuriken in my hand. Shisui's eyes widened for a moment when I launched the metal weapon right at his face. However, it only took him one more body-flicker to get onto the tree again and my shuriken hit nothing but a tree trunk.
"Just once!" A shuriken followed Shisui onto the tree. "You never called me that before." Another one pierced into the branch where his toes had landed a moment ago. "Even Itachi has!" This one skidded on the ground just before Shisui flickered away. I could see Father's point. This was not a productive session for Shisui.
I reached into my weapon pouch again and paused. There was only one shuriken left. Shisui noticed my pause and his smirk grew wider. Then, he started to flicker around, faster, more frequently, until he was starting to blur in my vision. Show off.
I blinked and the world cleared up in front of me. Every sway of the leaves, every ray of sunlight, and every dust that Shisui had stirred up were unveiled under my Sharingan. I whipped my body around and threw the last shuriken with conviction.
The world seemed to hit a mute button when Shisui caught the Shuriken - still spinning - between his fingers. The glow of red in his eyes matched mine in perfect synchronization. "Oh, that's cheating."
"And you're four years older than me," I answered, adding in my mind, in this shinobi business.
"Fair enough." Shisui accepted it with a chuckle. "My offer still stands, though."
It was a good offer, I must admit. A simple phrase for a technique that could save me a lot of time. But really, I had seen all I needed to see and Shisui must have known that.
Returning my attention to the white markings on the training ground - some were covered in dirt on our earlier chase - I flowed the chakra over my muscles again. Lower my gravity, visualize the momentum that will still be there at the end of the body-flicker, and prepare before I even take the flight.
That was what Shisui had been doing and what I forgot to do before it was too late.
This time, I landed in the white circle with no faltering steps. Again, again, and again. I flickered through all six markings drawn on the ground before a series of clapping sounded in the background.
"With that, Maiko-hime, you can give Itachi a run for his money," Shisui said with pride on his face. No matter how much I tried, that nickname stuck with Shisui until I thought, why bother?
All of a sudden, I told him, "Thank you, Shisui-senpai." He was being helpful, after all. Upon hearing that, Shisui smacked his palms into his chest as if he had been wounded by an arrow made of happiness. The boy even fell backwards for dramatism, only to hook his legs onto the branch at the last second before flipping back onto the ground.
I moved my eyes away to avoid looking at that embarrassing display. The blue sky had long dipped into the colours of the dusk and a suspicious feeling started to rise in my chest.
"It's late," I commented out of nowhere.
"You're right. Want to call it a day?" Shisui asked, but it wasn't what I was talking about.
"Itachi-nii is late," I clarified. Itachi had training sessions with Father, but it should have ended long ago. Given how much he treasured the time we had with Shisui, he should have made it here already.
"Ah, that." Shisui turned uncharacteristically quiet at the mention of Itachi. I whipped my head around and narrowed my eyes at him. He turned his face away. Something is up and he knows.
"Where is he?" I asked. "Shisui-senpai," I even added nicely.
Shisui's gaze travelled to the sky as the silence stretched uncomfortably thin, but before either of us could explode, Shisui glanced in the direction of the Main House and let out a sigh of relief.
"Itachi is back if you want to know," Shisui said. How did he determine that? Probably some chakra-related techniques that I had yet to learn. "Go home safely, Maiko-hime. I'll see you both next time."
The improvements that I had made today to my body-flicker were, no doubt, put to good use. I jumped over the fence and trod past the koi pond. The living room was basked in the warm hue of night lamps, leaking out of the shōji screen like glowing mists. In contrast, the window to Itachi's room felt like it was being painted on the other side of the colour wheel.
I almost thought that Itachi was not in his room until I climbed over the window and saw my brother sitting on his bed, making no moves to deal with the dirt that had stained his clothes and smudged his skin.
What happened? Where did Father take you? What did he make you do … I had so many questions ready to burst out in my head. But when Itachi turned around in surprise and colour seemed to finally flow into his flesh at the sight of me, all of those messy noises quieted down to one sentence. "Are you okay?"
"Yes. It's just been a long day," Itachi answered, rubbing his eyes as if to drive the fatigue away.
A moment later, I found the courage to ask, "Where did Father take you for training today?" I had thought that Itachi would be holding his tongue back just like Shisui, but to my surprise, it only took him a moment to gather his thoughts, before telling what could only be the truth.
"Father took me to clean up the battlefield."
I reached forward, grabbing Itachi's arm before he could bring it up to his eyes again. Itachi didn't resist and we stayed - waited - like that for a few seconds. Red started to bleed into Itachi's irides as the black tomoe spun into existence.
I should have enough control over my Sharingan, really I should. But in that moment, the lingering sorrow and disheartenment in Itachi's eyes resonated with mine, fueling the swirling rage that was already boiling inside of me. For the first time in the last half a year, my Sharingan activated against my will.
I let go of Itachi and jumped off of his bed, wanting to go to the living room where I knew my Father would be. Itachi is four. He is four! My brother was kind, gentle; he was … perfect. So what else did he need to do just because he could perfectly take on anything?
I didn't even reach the door and the arguments had already reached us.
"What were you thinking? Taking Itachi to a mission like that!" That was Mother, screaming at her husband. The words got muffled behind the walls, but her anger did not.
"It's time for him to learn. It's time for him to witness the bloodshed that will inevitably come with the life of Shinobi." Uchiha Fugaku stood his ground with a firm tone that crushed all room for negotiation. "They all need to get used to it, the earlier the better."
"That boy is only four!" Mom shouted back. Her voice sounded strained as she pushed the next sentence out of her mouth. "Couldn't you have waited? He's already … they are both already so …"
Father was silent for a moment. Perhaps there was a sigh, perhaps it was just my imagination. "This is my duty as the Uchiha Clan Head. And it's Itachi's duty as my son."
"Mikoto, please understand." Surprisingly, there was an ounce of pain in Father's voice as he pleaded with his wife. "Any other Uchiha children, they don't have to open the Sharingan, they don't have to be measured with intelligence and maturity beyond their years."
"They don't even have to be good shinobi; we have plenty of civilian jobs in the district. But not my children; not Itachi and Maiko."
The argument died right there, signifying Mother's acceptance of Father's action and apparently, our fate. Slowly, I turned around and retraced my step back to Itachi's bed. My brother waited with patience, pulling me up the sheets that were already dirtied by the mud and soil.
"I don't like … what happens because of wars, but I see how bad it is," Itachi spoke up in his soft voice, smoothing away the twisting feeling in my stomach. "I would want to see it, than never knowing it."
"I'm glad," Itachi said all of a sudden, pushing his face forward until our gaze could meet, one pair of Sharingan to another. Realizing what he just said, he explained in a hurry, "Not because of the battlefield or the corpses or all those deaths."
"I can finally be there for you now," my brother said and his red eyes curved into a small smile. I also have the sharingan now. I'll finally understand your experience; I'll finally feel your struggle; I'll finally know your distress. It was incredible how much I could understand from his spoken words.
Ah, how could I hide behind this boy's smile, as he tried to shield me from all that was burdening? A love so pure that it became an instinct. A love so precious that this flawed soul was undeserving of. A love so heavy that I didn't know if this flawed soul had the capacity to return.
"Wrong," I whispered. Before my big brother could open his mouth again, I wrapped my short arms around his back and pulled him into a hug. "We'll be there for each other."
In the next year, I waited for my turn to be taken to the battlefield - to be baptized in the aftermath of violence as part of the training. Except, it never arrived.
The Third Great Shinobi War ended when I turned four. As predicted by Shisui, the shining hero named Namikaze Minato became the next Hokage, leading the charge in this supposed new era, ushering in the dawn of peace.
(づ｡◕‿‿◕｡)づ fuwa~fuwa~desu~~~
A month after my fifth birthday, Sasuke was born.
The summer that year was scalding. The cicadas chirped even louder than usual, like a crescendo in the accompaniment, all to match up to the cry of the baby that had just descended upon this world.
Mom comforted Sasuke with a quiet lullaby as our father tried to calm his cry. The sternness rarely left Father's shoulders these days, but the way he rocked the baby spoke nothing but gentleness and care.
It was a coincidence that all of Uchiha Fugaku's children were born in the heat of the summer. It's an auspicious sign, the Elders would reiterate along with their congratulations. They've all got the fire in their veins, befitting of their Uchiha name.
Looking at the loving scene in front of me, I couldn't help but wonder if similar memories had been replayed before in this very room, many summers ago when Itachi and I were born.
Did our father also look at us with such a loving gaze as he held our tiny bodies? How long did that last, before the thought of duties weighed down on his eyebrows and hardened his face? Would the same happen to Sasuke, what were the duties bestowed to him the moment he was born—
Chubby fingers bumped into my wrist, jerking me awake from my train of thought. I looked down and saw little Sasuke scrunching up his face, looking like he was terribly close to another fit of cries. Without much thinking, I placed my index finger in his flailing hand.
Warmth permeated my skin slowly as Sasuke curled his fingers around mine. His face relaxed from the premonition of tears to a look of contentment. Just like that, a smile bloomed on my baby brother's face as happiness sparkled in his dark eyes. Suddenly, all of my messy thoughts disappeared behind the symphony of cicadas.
Ah, who cares about those things? I leaned closer to Sasuke and rested my head against his bedside, carefully keeping my finger within his grasp. Will I be able to protect you as Itachi has done for me? The love that Itachi has given me, will I be able to give this 'love' to you, to him?
Like an experiment, I placed my lips on Sasuke's forehead, just a brief touch. I hope so.
Thud. The shōji screen opened with a dull noise. "Maiko. Ninjutsu training."
Father walked past the door, barely stopping to give me the words. He was busy, I knew that much. His shirt was soaked with sweat but he didn't have the time to change. He was walking towards his next agenda with conviction and he expected me to do the same.
Mom walked into the room next, already sporting an expression meant to apologize for my father's brusqueness. She had fresh towels in hand, signifying a bath time for little Sasuke.
I looked down again and my brother was still staring at my face with a giggling smile. His fingers hooked around mine with no signs of wanting to let go. A second later, I bit my lips and turned my face away. It didn't take much strength for me to slip my finger out of his grasp.
The cries of a baby joined the endless waves of cicadas in the background as I raced towards the training ground.
(づ｡◕‿‿◕｡)づ fuwa~fuwa~desu~~~
Someone was crying. Actually, a lot of people were crying.
The ceiling of the underground bunker rumbled and shook like it was in pain. The roar of a beast reverberated in the stale air as a wave of chakra remnants washed over me. Malice, anger, revenge, bloodlust … all of those negativities choked on my throat.
For a moment, the breath of Shinigami was the only thing I could feel.
Too soon. I had too little time. I have something now. I still want to …
An arm squeezed around my shoulder and pulled me closer to its owner. Itachi and … Sasuke. Sasuke was crying in my arms - our arms.
"Shh, it's alright," I whispered to the baby in my arms. I felt guilty for forgetting about the one I was supposed to protect when I was so consumed with the fear of death. Carefully, I wiped the tears that were falling down Sasuke's cheeks before they could wet the blanket even more.
Finally, Sasuke's cries lessened for a bit. However, all of my efforts were wasted when another outburst of chakra emitted through the air, originating from a force of mass destruction rampaging outside of the village. To think that just the leftover remnants could contain so much malicious intent, I shuddered to think of the requirement to survive when one was standing in front of it.
It was my first encounter with the concept of Tailed-Beast in this new world and it was a rude awakening. This was the nature of Chakra; the unimaginable limit that it could reach.
In the darkness surrounded by children's cries, Itachi reached out from behind me and touched Sasuke on the forehead. Magically, and somewhat unfairly. Sasuke's cries subsided immediately as he stared in the direction of Itachi's finger with his big black eyes.
I must have gotten used to the lingering malice that accompanied Nine-Tail's rage because I found the energy to chuckle at Sasuke's blatant favouritism. It was understandable, though. If I were him, I would have chosen the same. After all … "You're right, Itachi-nii will always be there for us. Always."
Sometimes I, too, forgot that Itachi was only six, still a child himself.
That night, Konoha lost its Hokage. As brief as Yondaime's reign was, the peace that he established did not collapse right after his death. As shocking as his demise, the village continued to move as before. At least, on the surface.