"A person at birth is soft and weak; in death, rigid and stiff. Rigid and stiff is the way of the brittle; the soft and supple is the way of the living. Therefore the place of the forceful is below; the place of the yielding is above."
© Henry Lion Oldie
Shisui was already waiting at the training ground.
"Hey-hey. Three of us today?"
Itachi nodded:
"I decided you'd be interested too. Father asked to check Sarada's abilities."
Sarada herself was a bit nervous. She already knew Uncle was a genius. How strong Shisui was—Sarada had no idea, but he was older, and if Uncle trained with him, the guy was no less strong than Itachi, probably even stronger.
"Sparring?" Shisui asked.
Uncle nodded again.
"Great! So, girl. Explaining the rules. Rule one: no Sharingan. Rule two: no other rules."
Sarada was surprised. Uchiha train without Sharingan?
"Dojutsu consumes a lot of chakra," Shisui explained. "If you want to train longer, you have to forgo Sharingan. Ready?"
"Uh, wait, no!"
"To positions!" Shisui commanded. "Today I'm your judge and sensei. And Sarada, friendly advice: don't hold back. Itachi fights mercilessly. Kirei will heal you if you beg her nicely, but don't slack off just in case."
Sarada adjusted her glasses and stood opposite Itachi, extending her hand in a dueling gesture.
"Begin!"
Uncle lowered his hand and relaxed. He didn't attack, didn't reach for his sword. Just stood there. Sarada launched several shuriken, but instead of Itachi's body, they sank into the packed earth like a knife into butter. Uncle vanished.
What?
And in the next second, something hit her in the back with full force. Sarada flew toward the training logs. Shisui was perched on the central one: squatting, he watched the fight with interest. She spun around and managed to block a tanto strike with her kunai. One more second, and the sword blade would have entered her shoulder. The kunai screeched along the blade. With a trembling hand from tension, Sarada pushed the sword away and jumped back farther.
Itachi didn't lag. He was beside her in an instant and slashed diagonally with the sword. Sarada caught the blade with her kunai and kicked at his torso, but Uncle dodged and counterattacked. Her head rang from a powerful jaw strike. Sarada couldn't recover. Another strike, this time to the stomach. One more—to the chest—she blocked.
Uncle fully led the fight. No attack reached him—he dodged deftly and left no time for thought.
Without Sharingan it was hard. Sarada had grown used to dojutsu helping her predict opponents' movements and attack herself, and besides, opponents were weaker, not so fast. And Itachi wasn't using Sharingan either.
She frantically thought what to do. Use elements? Yes, she knew the Great Fireball Technique, but by the time she formed seals and gathered her spirit, Uncle would beat that spirit out of her. Raiton? Also needed concentration, and here you couldn't even blink.
Damn.
Sharingan was out. Elements too. Itachi surpassed her in speed and skill. Sarada's last trump was the strength from Mom: finest chakra control, with which she'd once broken a house wall. But to break—you had to hit. And Uncle didn't let her even touch him!
Sarada broke the distance to think of a strategy somehow.
But Itachi wasn't going to give her a breather.
Flames flared in the distance, and a huge fireball rushed at Sarada at wild speed.
When did he manage?!
She dodged to the side at the last moment and landed on the top of the end training log. Heat washed over her face.
"Hey," Shisui said cheerfully.
He was still sitting on the central log.
Don't distract!
Sarada scanned the training ground carefully. No Uncle again.
Which means...
Behind!
She somersaulted forward. Just in time: Itachi's next strike barely missed her.
Sarada somewhat adapted to the mad sparring tempo. They clashed in close combat again. Metal screech, whipping hand and foot strikes whistling through the air. Itachi hit less often, and Sarada gradually got into it. Once she even grazed Uncle's cheek, but barely. She switched kunai to her left hand, deflected the sword attack aside, and with a yell drove her fist straight into Uncle's chest.
"Shannaro!"
The fist touched the solid breastbone, and...
...Uncle scattered into a flock of black birds. Something sharp and cold lightly touched her nape.
"One-zero," announced the calm voice from behind.
"Comedy!" Shisui exclaimed from his observation post.
Itachi lowered his kunai. Shisui sat back, dangling his legs from the log.
"And still, you're not completely hopeless," he said conciliatorily. "Better than many genin."
"Really?" Sarada was amazed.
"Yes. Others wouldn't last so long against Itachi. He held back, of course..."
Shisui scratched his nape.
Held back? Gods, how strong is he?
And true, if Uncle fought like this without Sharingan, what was he like with Sharingan?
Sarada, breathing heavily, turned to her genius relative. Uchiha Itachi wasn't even winded.
"Again?" he asked.
"Uncle, seriously?" Sarada wailed inwardly.
She wouldn't survive another round at that tempo without a break.
"No, break and sum up," Shisui said.
Sarada sighed in relief and mentally thanked Shisui. She sat in the grass and rested her forehead on her knees. Her whole body ached—Uncle really fought mercilessly.
"You rely too much on your eyes," Shisui said. "It's very noticeable. Without Sharingan you can't keep up with the fight. Yes, Sharingan is very useful, no doubt, and it'll give you a good edge, especially if your opponent isn't Uchiha. But dojutsu consumes a lot of chakra, and you'll tire quickly. Fight like a regular shinobi—it should become habit. Save Sharingan for emergencies."
"I understand," Sarada exhaled hoarsely.
"Good."
Itachi took a swig from his canteen and asked curiously:
"Besides hand-to-hand, do you know any techniques? Summoning, elemental ninjutsu..."
"I have affinity for fire and lightning natures."
Shisui whistled from his perch.
"Turns out it's not so bad."
"But I can't use them in time!"
"Yeah, Itachi's quick. Okay, we'll work on your speed. Second round!"
Sarada groaned inwardly and thought: "They're definitely going to kill me."
Two hours of sparring later, she could barely stand. Her throat cramped from labored breathing, but Sarada had vowed in the Root HQ to overcome her weakness. Gritting her teeth, she continued round after round and didn't even think of asking Shisui and Uncle to stop training. She'd never had such a strong opponent. It would be stupid to waste the chance to get stronger.
In the last fifteen rounds, Itachi won in under half a minute. The world blurred, ears rang. Reaction lagged noticeably, and round after round she felt the kunai tip on her neck, familiar after two hours of beatings.
Meanwhile, Shisui, self-appointed judge and sensei, clearly decided to wear her down. He plainly saw she couldn't fight anymore but drove round after round. Where did his condescension go?
And training would have continued who knows how long if not for the Anbu in the tiger mask who suddenly appeared at the training ground.
"Uchiha Itachi, Danzo-sama awaits you," his whispering voice was dry and cracked.
A nervous shiver ran through her exhausted body.
Danzo? Because of me?
"Coming now," Itachi smoothly sheathed his tanto behind his back. "That's it for today. See you at home, Sarada."
A moment, and he vanished.
Sarada was still gasping; breathing hurt. She collapsed powerlessly into the grass, arms spread. Through the dirty glasses lenses, she saw the blue sky and slowly drifting clouds. The glasses had miraculously survived this mad fight. The sky overhead was blocked by Shisui's grinning face. He squatted, bringing his face even closer.
"Alive?"
Sarada closed her eyes for a moment and opened them again. She had no strength to answer.
If only she could get home.
Shisui sat on the ground beside her and suddenly activated Sharingan; scanned the grove surroundings.
"I need to tell you something, Sarada. While Itachi's not around."
Sarada tensed. Breathing eased a bit, but she still couldn't rise from the ground. Shisui had already deactivated Sharingan.
"Honestly, I don't believe a word of this space-time technique story."
Uncle told him...
"And I suspect you."
He looked at her searchingly, but Sarada had no strength to be surprised or object.
Suspect. Do what you want.
"Itachi's a great shinobi, but a bit naive. And he loves Sasuke a lot. You play masterfully on his weakness."
Sarada closed her eyes again. She didn't want to hear this.
"Play on weakness."
Disgusting words.
"Straight up: if you threaten Leaf's or the clan's safety—I'll kill you."
Another one. A real shinobi. Smiles and teases at first, then threatens retribution and promises death. She'd heard similar words somewhere. Two friends, one brain for both?
"Kill me now," Sarada exhaled lazily. "Your traitor is wide open and defenseless."
"Itachi believes in you; I don't want to hurt him. But Sarada, one slip..."
"Hai, hai. So that's why you didn't stop the fight. Tormenting."
"Not tormenting. But yeah, overall."
Deep inside, dislike for Shisui stirred. Every word built a wall between them.
"Okay," he said more condescendingly. "Get up already. How long can you lie there."
"Can't," Sarada mumbled. "You did a good job."
"Should've said you couldn't continue—I wouldn't insist," Shisui was sincerely surprised. "Why stay silent?"
"I'm weak."
"We know."
"I don't want to be weak."
Sarada turned back to Shisui.
You suspect me, but you've put your friendly mask back on?
"Nothing, you'll train up."
"Not that," she shook her head. "Different strength."
Sarada laboriously raised her hand and patted her chest, clarifying what she meant. Tears welled from her own powerlessness.
"See. I'm crying again. I cry too often lately. A shinobi shouldn't..."
It half felt like she was just talking to herself aloud. Stupid to pour her soul to someone who'd threatened to kill her a minute ago.
"Got it. If nothing's done, you'll lie here all day," he seemed not to listen to her confessions at all.
Her body suddenly lightened, and the world dropped away. Strong arms supported her knees and back; Shisui's face was right there.
"H-hey, what?" Sarada panicked.
The three training logs receded; the grove approached instead.
Just talked about traitors, now suddenly picked her up and carrying.
"Willpower isn't given to everyone at birth, really," Shisui said.
He spoke completely seriously, without a trace of former snark or recent threats. So he had listened.
"There are weak people—they stay weak. And strong ones, like Itachi. You think he became that way? No, he's been like that since childhood."
Sarada drooped.
"But willpower isn't just innate. It feeds on faith. Circumstances vary, you know. If you have a clear goal, know what you live for and protect—wherever life throws you," Shisui allowed a note of sarcasm, "through time or space... You'll stay yourself. Even if alone against the world."
Shisui... As if that talk never happened. What was this? Sudden sincerity or stunning hypocrisy? His words eased her noticeably; the despair lump in her chest dissolved tracelessly.
"You have a goal?"
"Yes..." Sarada murmured uncertainly. "I want to become Hokage."
She suddenly felt ashamed. How did it sound, a traitor dreaming of Hokage.
Shisui smiled.
"Why?"
Sarada was at a loss.
Really, why?
"Silent. Wanting to be Hokage comes from desire to protect everyone. Every resident of this village. Feel it in you?"
"No," Sarada answered honestly.
She wanted to protect her loved ones. Hadn't thought about others.
"That's it."
The former relief turned to emptiness.
"You're not weak," Shisui said unexpectedly softly. "You just don't get what you live and fight for."
"But I cry."
"You're a girl," he smiled. "Girls do that often.
****
"Skip yesterday's incident," Danzo said.
"Yes."
Itachi stood at attention. Danzo rose heavily from the chair, pushed it under the table, and leaning on his cane, approached closer.
"Your father suggested taking you into Anbu. The Council doesn't object."
Itachi listened silently.
"I assume you're not against joining Anbu?"
"Yes."
Danzo squinted and smiled slightly. His piercing gaze pierced Itachi through, tracking every breath or movement. And that gaze held too much darkness.
"But first, we must understand if you're suited for such work."
"Mission?"
"Exactly. And selecting your mission was assigned to me."
"It was surely decided before the Sarada incident," Itachi thought. After yesterday, relations between Danzo and the Third Hokage were strained.
No wonder. Danzo's actions could be seen as a direct threat to the Uchiha clan. Partly, Itachi doubted if he'd made the right choice telling Father about Sarada. If he told the council, it would get worse. The clan would go mad. Stopping the uprising would be impossible.
It brewed gradually. At early meetings, when Itachi graduated academy early, Uchiha wavered. Clanmates were unhappy with relocation, oppressed by village attitude toward Uchiha and suspicions after the Kyuubi tragedy. Still, some advocated peaceful talks, others couldn't decide sides.
But lately, Yashiro's supporters for coup gained strength.
Danzo's dry voice interrupted thoughts:
"There's an Anbu shinobi... From your view, he's already old. Thirty-four. Once capable; many thought talented, though not up to you. Graduated academy early, rose ranks smoothly, joined Anbu as jonin. However," Danzo paused theatrically, "recently learned he's linked to Hidden Mist Village."
So he's a traitor.
Itachi already imagined what came next.
"So my mission is to eliminate..."
"I'm not finished," Danzo interrupted icily.
Itachi faltered. The impassive mask he maintained with effort nearly cracked. Withstanding Danzo's pressure was hard. Itachi mentally pitied Sarada. A regular civilian before Danzo would hysterically break from his sight alone; the Root leader's image was so oppressive. As if his essence was wholly woven from living darkness, concentrated, even thick. And Sarada was alone with him yesterday... Though no, that tiger-masked Anbu too. But that made it worse.
Sasuke, why didn't you watch your child? I can't raise you and your lost-in-time descendants.
Danzo continued probing Itachi with his gaze, seeking a crack in his feigned apathy to strike, break the inner core, subjugate his will.
"Ignoring his Hidden Mist ties, he's an excellent shinobi. Comrades love him. He has Hokage's trust."
Why say this? What do you want?
Danzo wove webs around him like a spider. Methodically, circuitously approaching, setting traps. It irritated.
"He has a wife and children..."
"I understand," Itachi interrupted.
But regretted instantly. That seemed the crack.
"Sorry. You're perceptive. My story was superfluous. But I had one goal: help you know him better."
Why know him? Traitor is traitor. Mission is mission. I'll complete it, family man or good comrade.
"Kill him."
"Hai."
Danzo's thin lips corners lifted.
"Uchiha Itachi. I'm convinced Anbu is your place. For this mission, take one partner. Take who you trust most. Choice is yours."
Danzo approached closer, looked in his face.
"Peace itself is complex... Hard to create, harder to hold."
An ill foreboding gripped Itachi, but no muscle twitched. Couldn't reveal true thoughts and dreams. Not to this man. Not Danzo. Though with each word, Itachi felt exposed: Danzo voiced answers to unspoken questions tormenting him since childhood.
Deep down, Itachi always wanted only peace. That dream became his foundation and core. Itachi didn't believe shinobi arts were made solely for destruction. He trained to become the strongest shinobi and stop all wars. Truly, if no one stronger, they'd heed his words?
Danzo, figuring this, struck the sore spot. Wove his thoughts into Itachi's faith fabric, sowing Root loyalty seed. Make him believe the Dark path.
"Country truces are temporary, fragile; impossible without those upholding peace from shadows, bearing all weight and dirt, mercilessly eliminating any threat that could spark new war."
Danzo put a hand on his shoulder, looked in eyes. Abyss swirled at his soul's bottom.
"Don't hide from me, Itachi. I see you. See what you desire. True peace dream—that makes you suffer."
Itachi barely restrained a grimace from the nauseating smell: Danzo's breath. This man brazenly rummaged his soul and thoughts, dragging up the most intimate, what Itachi hid so carefully.
"Only darkness-filled beings can bring true peace to our lands. Join me, Uchiha Itachi.
***
Read the story months ahead of the public release — early chapters are available on my Patreon: Granulan