Naruto Fan Fiction ❯ Regret Not A Thing ❯ Ch. 12: Sasuke's Story II: The Whole Truth and Nothing But ( Chapter 12 )

Regret Not A Thing

By Mizerable

 

 

 

Ch. 12: Sasuke's Story II: The Whole Truth and Nothing But

 

Most of what happened at this point had to be told to Sasuke after the fact.

 

He spent these days slipping in and out of feverish delusional consciousness. He had no bearing. Was awake or dreaming? Was he dead? Where was he and who was he with? He was never able to focus long enough to analyze any of these questions. He was vaguely aware that it was getting colder, wherever he seemed to be going. Was that because he was dying or was it just the climate? And he certainly wasn't walking on his own. Someone was carrying him on their back. He wasn't sure how long they had been traveling, nor how far. It might have been days, it might have been one night.

 

He wakened briefly, lying on a stiff mat. He recalled faint firelight and images of people swimming across his vision. Just as he could make out their shapes, it all seemed to slip away like water. Though he can barely remember it, this is what he knew had happened.

 

Someone held his hand while tracing the wounds along his arm. Fingers that felt so cool and soothing against his burning skin. It had been such a soft touch. Sasuke began to think that maybe he'd been found by a woman.

 

“They're not normal,” a soft voice had said, “No matter what I do, they won't stay closed.”

 

Time passed, or at least that's what Sasuke assumed. There was some kind of noise off to the side. He tried to concentrate to figure out who this person was. Was it the one who brought him here, or was it someone else? The person was searching through various scrolls and books with near-frantic movements, scribbling notes with an ink brush. Even though his brain was far too muddled to think clearly, Sasuke had the strangest feeling that he ought to have known who it was.

 

He was then aware of a strange, yet oddly familiar sensation. Fingers were brushing against his neck, over his shoulder, leaving behind a trail of something wet and warm. He'd done this before, hadn't he? With Kakashi, and words, and blood. Was his old teacher here now? Was Kakashi trying to save him again?

 

There was a flash of light and spectacular pain before the void swallowed him whole.

 

* * *

 

He came to with a band of weak light slipping in through the window across his face. It was probably cloudy outside, snowing even. It felt cold enough. He was certain that he'd spoken to someone at some point after that night the seal was put on. He knew it was a binding seal, considering he wasn't in excruciating pain at the moment. The places where the skin had already torn were still open, although bandaged, but the progression seemed to have stopped for the time being. If only he could remember what had been said after that. Something about having been in hell…they said he would survive it.

 

He tried to sit up, lightheaded and groggy. Some sort of drug was floating through his system, probably a sedative or a painkiller or both.

 

“You shouldn't strain yourself. You're still recovering.”

 

Sasuke turned, taking in the sight of the sad little shack with its graying wood and its drafts. He stopped when he caught sight of a woman. It was a small comfort to know he hadn't hallucinated about one being present. Though it was near-impossible to guess who she was. A rather concealing head wrap covered her hair and face, leaving only a pair of plum-colored eyes visible.

 

“Who are you?” his voice came out in a dry rasp.

 

“A medic,” she answered in a startlingly warm tone. After going so long without a scrap of kindness, it made Sasuke rather uneasy.

 

“Did…did you bring me here?”

 

“No,” she admitted, paused, carried on, “Though you needn't worry about Orochimaru coming for you. He's dead now…although it seemed to cause a terrible reaction with the curse seal.”

 

Sasuke wasn't sure whether he should feel glad that the man was dead or pissed that he hadn't killed the snake himself. But if what the woman said was true, Orochimaru may have stripped him of any chance of exacting his true vengeance anyway. He would be a fool not to realize what bad shape he was in. There was a binding seal in place; the curse hadn't been removed.

 

“How do you know about the curse seal?” Sasuke wished his voice didn't sound so pathetic. Though considering his entire state, it probably didn't matter.

 

“Kabuto,” she replied crisply, “He passed along information to me long ago, though I'm afraid much of the data was incomplete.”

 

Kabuto? Surely he couldn't have been the one who saved him. After leaving Sasuke to suffer for three long years, there was probably very little that could have motivated him to have a change of heart now. Though he did ponder what sort of connection Kabuto had to this woman.

 

“So who are you, really?” Sasuke felt himself grow more suspicious with every passing moment.

 

“No one important.”

 

She seemed dead set on keeping her identity a secret. Sasuke could think of any number of truths that might imply. A missing-nin, a spy of some kind, a recluse. He doubted she was going to give up her secrets just yet.

 

There was a shifting sound to Sasuke's left, his blind side. It only hit him now that there was someone else was in the room, probably the one who saved him. He had enough reason to believe that it wasn't Kabuto, so who could it be?

 

“Who's there?”

 

For some strange moment, he almost expected his old team to answer. If only for a moment…

 

“You certainly know how to get yourself into trouble.”

 

The voice was low and smooth, reminding him of a cello as it echoed through the room. He might have thought it pleasing, had his brain not caught up with the situation. He found himself turning slowly, so slowly. It was better than seeing who was sitting on the other side of the room.

 

But there he was. He sat casually leaning against the wall, one knee drawn up with his forearm resting against it. He looked so utterly unaffected, the fucker.

 

“Why?” Sasuke's voice crawled from his dry mouth, “Why are you here?”

 

“I brought you here,” Itachi answered plainly.

 

Sasuke felt what little dignity he had left wither and turn to ash. Of all the humiliating things he had to suffer, why did he have to be saved by this man?!

 

“You should have left me,” Sasuke spoke in rasping, graveled tones, “I made my peace down there. Why did you bring me back?!”

 

“You would be so willing to give up after enduring all of that?”

 

“What right do you have to even say that?! You're the reason I'm like this now!”

 

“I don't recall telling you to follow Orochimaru,” Itachi said blandly, “You're as foolish now as you were when you were seven.”

 

Sasuke seethed at the insult, and at the mention of his “mentor.” It should have been perfectly fucking obvious why Sasuke sought out Orochimaru. Didn't sitting there, half-blind and his arm in lacerated ribbons, show just how desperate Sasuke was? Didn't Itachi see that Sasuke hated him enough to go through this hell to kill him? And what chance did Sasuke even have to accomplish a thing like that now?

 

“Why am I still alive?” Sasuke's weariness added years to his voice, “Why the hell would you save me?!”

 

“Because it was necessary,” Itachi answered, no change in tone or expression.

 

Necessary? For what? Was their fated battle to the death so important to Itachi that he would drag Sasuke from the grave for it? He should have done them both a favor and fallen on his own sword. He should have let Sasuke die with his small bit of solace. Why, why, why?!

 

“There's a great deal you don't know about,” Itachi spoke in his usual grave tone, “Do you honestly still believe all that I've done was simply to test my strength?”

 

“Oh?” Sasuke scoffed, “Then what were you trying to do? Why did you put me through this?”

 

“I forced you to aim higher so that you would not have the option to be weak. Now you've left your life behind with no one and nothing to return to. And while even I hadn't foreseen the aftermath of your dealing with Orochimaru, everything was done to prepare you.”

 

“…For what?” Sasuke asked cautiously. His white-hot anger seemed to slip away from him through the cracks in the floor, rapidly replaced by bone-chilling apprehension.

 

“Your real opponent.”

 

* * *

 

And it is here that it is not so much Sasuke's story as it is Itachi's.

 

When he was eleven, already a chuunin for half a year, he went on a special mission. He came back with Anbu status, though some might have argued the real Itachi was never seen again. He was not the same as the boy who left. There were whispers of his change, but no one truly spoke of it. Just as there was a special faction within the Anbu and a brutal method to earn a spot in it, but no one spoke of that either.

 

Itachi had been placed in a rather precarious position by his clan. They called him their “connection” to the Village. Young as he was, Itachi knew perfectly well they intended to use him as a spy against Konoha. The Clan knew they were stagnating. They wanted to return to their former glory, even if it meant overthrowing the government and establishing their own word as law. The fact that they made up the majority of the police force certainly couldn't deter them.

 

Itachi thought them all to be fools.

 

They were all so arrogant and self-assured. He highly doubted the clan, as they were now, would ever be successful at any sort of coup. So he went to their meetings and waited for the day the proud Uchiha Clan would collapse.

 

That all changed one evening on the banks of the Nagano River. Shisui approached him with his usual good-natured smile, his eyes alight as they often were when Shisui was impassioned about something. It seemed it was information that just couldn't wait for the night's meeting. Shisui explained that he was finally setting things in motion. He'd founded a group, of sorts, that sought true power. It was the final piece in raising the Uchiha Clan above all others: bijuu.

 

Itachi hadn't held back his look of surprise. His mind flickered over the image of a little boy with an uncanny resemblance to the Fourth. Apparently Shisui and his “organization” wanted to gain control over the nine fabled beasts, for who could oppose any shinobi with that kind of power. It seemed far too ambitious of a plan for the Shisui he knew. And furthermore, Itachi couldn't figure out where he fit into any of this.

 

“Isn't it obvious?” Shisui answered with that easy smile of his, “You're our connection to Konoha. The Hokage holds nothing but trust in you. Who else would be better suited to remove him?”

 

Itachi could feel his ears ringing. They were serious. The Clan was serious about taking over Konoha and they wanted him as the prime assassin.

 

“You would ask this of me?” Itachi rarely let his anxiety show, but his words came out in a trembling whisper, “As my friend, you would ask me to commit such treason?”

 

There was a world beyond the Clan. And it was a world they were supposed to protect.

 

“You should be honored,” all of Shisui's warmth drained away, “I've helped bring you this far. No one does anything for another person without a reason.”

 

Shisui continued to lay out their plan. Without the Third in office, the Kyuubi host would lose its supporter. It would leave room for the Clan to put a leader of their choice in place. With the Kyuubi under their control, they would have Konoha at their mercy. And with Shisui's group collecting the others, the whole world would learn the true might of the Uchiha once more.

 

Itachi had stopped listening. Hearing Shisui speak so coldly, and knowing his friendship was all a ruse to gain Itachi's loyalty, made him feel as if he were watching the person he once knew die right before his eyes. No matter how great of a shinobi Itachi was, he was still a young boy. Even knowing his own clan, his own parents, had set him up for this wasn't so painful. Shisui's betrayal cut more deeply than he could have ever fathomed.

 

The Shisui he had loved so dearly wasn't here anymore.

 

Itachi's eyes shifted.

 

* * *

 

Shisui's body was found in the river the next day. It was very convenient that Sasori's sleeper agent in that village was a young boy with a talent for manipulating corpses.

 

* * *

 

That very afternoon, Itachi tried to explain things to his young brother without dragging him in too deeply. They would learn to survive together, even if Sasuke had to hate him. Dark times were ahead and Itachi didn't like thinking about the actions he might have to take.

 

The police came with their accusations. Itachi felt his anger swell, knowing this was all just one elaborate act. They wanted him to look unstable, the sort of person who might snap and kill the Hokage. But he wasn't unbalanced. He was justifiably angry with this stupid clan and its self-serving ambitions. His brother had managed to rein in his rage.

 

But it didn't stop his eyes from aching.

 

Tense days followed and Itachi waited for the Clan to make a move. And they did. It seemed Sasuke was beginning to show some of his true potential. Fugaku praised the boy and told their mother in private that he was glad they had a spare available. Mikoto told Sasuke sweet half-truths of how much his father spoke of him.

 

It was this morning Itachi ignored his recent headaches, told Sasuke promises he wouldn't keep, and went to speak with the Hokage in secret. He laid out the Clan's traitorous plot, contemplating how foolish they really were. Didn't they realize the consequences of their actions? Didn't Shisui realize? Sandaime listened solemnly to Itachi's words, and to his proposal. His Anbu mentality was showing its true colors in the heavy-handed plan to keep Konoha safe.

 

It was with a terribly heavy heart that Sandaime approved the mission and all that would follow.

 

“You're going to be alone out there,” Sandaime spoke gravely, “You may find others like you planted throughout the other villages, but you will only have your own conviction to guide you through this safely.”

 

No records were kept. Sandaime never spoke the truth to anyone and it went to his grave.

 

Under a bright full moon, Itachi descended upon the Clan. No one ever came to investigate until Itachi was well beyond Konoha's gates. Sandaime was surprised to learn Itachi's young brother had survived the bloodshed. But as he thought more on why Sasuke was spared, the reason became painfully obvious. Sasuke was a backup plan.

 

* * *

 

Itachi left home at age thirteen to infiltrate the Akatsuki and kill Shisui. He could be cold enough to kill the parents he resented so deeply. Even after being betrayed so deeply, it was still a terrible thing to know Itachi had to kill his best friend. In the end, Itachi was nothing more than a young boy. He was nothing more than human.

 

Upon first hearing the news, Shisui had been furious. Itachi had expected as much and had a story well-prepared.

 

“Danzou couldn't be trusted,” Itachi explained, “Once the Clan put him in office, he would have had the Root wipe us all out to secure his power and gain the trust of the Village. Not even my membership with them could have prevented that.”

 

Shisui seemed dubious, but it wasn't a very far-fetched idea. Danzou was that kind of man.

 

“Besides, we've been thinking too small,” Itachi continued, “If what you've planned is true, there is no reason for us to think solely of gaining control of Konoha for ourselves. We can't expect to give the power of the bijuu to the others and expect them to cooperate once they take over their own counties. We'll only succeed if all of us, as a united force, seek to take over everything as one.”

 

A terrifying smile grew on Shisui's face, his eyes alight as Itachi always remembered.

 

“You've really lived up to your reputation,” Shisui's familiar voice spoke, “You truly are a genius.”

 

Itachi felt relief for a moment. He'd convinced Shisui and established his position in the organization. And such grand plans took time. Hopefully enough time for Konoha to be prepared. Hopefully enough time for Sasuke to be prepared.

 

With Shisui smiling at him again, Itachi wondered if he would ever be ready to take his friend's life.

 

He'd yet to find that moment.

 

* * *

 

When Itachi finished his tale, Sasuke sat in muted shock.

 

“You…” he struggled to get the words out, “You expect me to believe that?”

 

“I can't make you accept the truth,” Itachi spoke in oddly subdued tones, “But this is how things really are.”

 

“Then if you didn't get the Mangekyou from killing Shisui, why did you tell me to kill my best friend for it?!”

 

Sasuke thought of how close he'd been to killing Naruto that day. What if he had succeeded, only to find it was all for nothing?

 

“You read the scroll, didn't you? At the Nagano shrine, it spoke of how the Mangekyou is obtained when a person experiences the greatest suffering when they lose the one they cared for the most,” Itachi replied grimly, “I needed for you to gain the Mangekyou. And more importantly, I didn't want you to have the same weakness as me.”

 

The color drained from Sasuke's face. If this was the truth, if Itachi had be preparing Sasuke to actually kill Shisui…

 

“…Why didn't you just tell me from the start?” he whispered, “That night, if you had told me the truth, I would have followed you.”

 

“You know now that I couldn't. Everything had to seem as if I truly became a criminal and I could leave no room for suspicion. You truly seeking revenge served to keep up appearances.”

 

“But didn't keeping me alive at all look suspicious?”

 

“…Yes.”

 

Sasuke understood now that he was originally supposed to die that night with the rest of his Clan. Even if his brother only saw him as a contingency plan, it meant Itachi had enough faith in Sasuke to succeed even if Itachi didn't. Didn't it?

 

“So why tell me now?” Sasuke continued, “With the way I am now, I might never get the chance to do anything.”

 

“I didn't want you to die without knowing.”

 

Sasuke slowly lied back down, feeling horrifically exhausted. So that was it then. He really was dying. The medic placed a damp cloth against his forehead and as he slipped into sleep, he wondered if he would ever wake again.

 

* * *

 

It didn't seem fair to him. It hadn't been said, but they both seemed to sense their journey was drawing to a close.

 

“Why did it have to be us?” he asked in the dark room, “Why did we have to be the ones to throw our lives away?”

 

“Because we were strong enough to do it,” came the reply, “We endure this and will die for this so that there will still be a world left. So that people can carry on in our place and enjoy all the good that's there.”

 

 

To be continued…