The Fateful Uchiha

Choosing his mission, choosing his objective, was something Itachi had never had to do before. It wouldn't even have occurred to him. The mere fact of expressing an opinion was already difficult for him. But it was up to him to establish the parameters of his mission, the contours of his role, and… the tools he had at his disposal were limited.

Itachi first decided that he would not go against Konoha's interests. It was the kind of instruction that Danzo or the Hokage would have given him, so he felt a little reassured. Then he added nuances to it because he was now a nukenin, and he would still have to defend himself and play his part. He decided that as far as possible he would not go against the interests of the village. He felt strangely reassured, as if the world were a little less empty, a little less frightening.

This gave him a solid base. It meant that any nukenin explicitly targeting Konoha were his enemies, and it was good, it was reassuring, to have some sort of allegiance to follow. This meant that by leafing through his Bingo Book he could already classify certain individuals as enemies like Orochimaru, for example, and killing them could become an accessory mission. It also meant, that… maybe… he could send reports to Konoha.

Then... Then, well, what else? With what could Itachi fill his life, his role, his existence? He would protect Sasuke given the chance, he decided. It was a selfish decision, the first of his life, and it almost scared him, but he didn't back down. Danzo had allowed him to care about Sasuke since he had allowed him to spare him. It was only an extension of his mission.

A secret mission, of course. Itachi shouldn't tell the truth to anyone. The Uchiha coup, their betrayal, the reason for their massacre, this was never to be revealed. The last mission given to him by Danzo was to remain a secret. If his motives for protecting his brother were in doubt, and he needed to talk to the person questioning him, instead of just killing them, he'd say he was planning on stealing Sasuke's eyes later.

Itachi had no intention of touching his brother's eyes, but maybe Sasuke would make the connection and get the Eternal Mangekyo Sharingan, one day. Itachi would gladly give his eyeballs to protect his brother.

The rest of the Uchiha… The Sandaime had allowed them to live, so they were no longer targets. They were still enemies who wanted to kill him, though. Itachi put them in the same category as the other Konoha shinobis. He would not actively chase them but would defend himself if attacked.

The rest... The rest... Well, he already had plenty to do. Playing the role of a nukenin and having a secret mission to protect Konoha. He would do what the Nukenins do. He would roam around and accept assignments from clients who preferred not to call upon a village. He would be an assassin, a bounty hunter, and a bodyguard. These were things he knew how to do, things he had been trained for. So, he would do that, while waiting… While waiting for a new objective to jump out at him. He had nothing else left. He was free, and it was the most terrible thing that had ever happened to him, but he had survived it. He had decided to live. The best thing to do was to keep going.

Thus Itachi Uchiha began his nukenin life.

It was not easy. He missed Konoha. Itachi was an ANBU, he had already carried out long missions without any reinforcements, but this was different. He had always had a place to return to, where he was sure his wounds would be taken care of and where he could replenish his supply of shurikens, a hospital where he was sure to be treated when he returned. Not anymore.

Itachi had already started to hunt and fish for food. He hid in barns during the coldest nights, washed quickly in the streams or rivers, and treated himself summarily in case of injuries. But his clothes were in tatters and his armament had suffered badly. He started looking for criminals to capture them and use the bounty to renew his equipment. He was an ANBU, capturing thieves or murderers wasn't hard, especially since most of his targets were just civilian criminals, with no ninja training.

Time passed. He got used to his new life.

The world of Nukenins was different from that of normal ninjas. Rougher, crueler, but more united. Most Nukenins avoided each other cautiously, like two predators crossing the same territory. They were few looking for a fight. It happened that some even helped each other. After all, why would they hate each other? For their villages? That would be laughable.

Itachi's footsteps had taken him east, to the Land of Water: the hidden village of Kiri was currently experiencing violent discrimination against Kekkei Genkai possessors because their Mizukage was apparently crazy. There was a lot of work in this area because Kiri was short of troops. Many ninjas had fled their country, dreading the moment when they would go from discrimination to a real purge.

Itachi had a little trouble understanding the idea of ​​ninjas fleeing their village to save themselves because… it wasn't up to the ninjas to decide about their survival. It was not their role. It was their superiors who decided. The Hokage… No, Danzo had decided that the Uchihas had to die, and Itachi had accepted it.

But all these people… In Kiri, they wanted to live, and Itachi was fascinated by that. There were deserters everywhere, all with more or less visible Kekkei Genkai. Itachi avoided them as much as possible, but they exchanged a nod when they passed each other. Not a gesture of friendship or even politeness, more like an acceptance. We are in the same boat. I go my way, you go yours.

There was a lot of crime and insecurity in the region, and there was no shortage of bandits to capture. Some had a handsome bounty on their heads, and others barely had a few pennies to reward for their capture but were wanted for atrocious things. Itachi never had trouble catching them.

He was traveling. His cough had become more hoarse and his lungs hurt so often that he was beginning to forget what it was like to live without this constant discomfort. But he couldn't go to a hospital, not anymore. He had to disappear. Itachi had ditched his ANBU clothes for pants and a turtleneck of heavy blue-gray fabric, as well as a gigantic gray almost black hooded poncho, and thin-rimmed sunglasses to hide his Sharingan. He blended into the crowd. He always had enough money to eat at his convenience, but he generally avoided the cities. He went from hamlet to hamlet in the countryside. Sometimes he helped with the harvest. It vaguely reminded him of the few rank D missions that he performed with his genin teammates.

Sometimes Itachi was recognized by ninjas. Often they would attack him, either claiming he was a Konoha spy or because they were desperate and paranoid. Itachi defended himself. Very often, it ended with his attacker dead. But sometimes Itachi was recognized… And left alone. It was often Nukenins, who crossed his path and tried to make conversation.

The majority was quickly tired of his laconism. Itachi was offered joint missions a few times. Half the time his partner wanted to lure him into a trap, but there were also missions… which went well. Assassinations, often. Afterward, Itachi and his accomplice shared the pay and separated without further ado. It was better that way. The loneliness was terrible, but Itachi couldn't bear to have a companion, a comrade, a friend he risked losing, or someone who would stab him in the back.

He never teamed up with the same person twice. In the Nukenin world, there was no such trust. A regular partnership was too risky an attachment. It was also a risk of someone realizing Itachi was sick, and it was a weakness the young Uchiha wanted to keep secret. That said, Itachi remained in contact with several Nukenins. It was helpful. They exchanged information and leads. Sometimes, when they passed each other on the road, they walked together and even had a drink. They weren't friends, but they knew the other wasn't going to stab them, or at least the odds were low. And that was the closest thing to a friendship in their universe.

Almost no one asked Itachi why he killed his clan. Almost nobody. But of course, there were exceptions.

“Was it to piss off your father or the Hokage?” Zabuza Momochi asked him one day.

Itachi had nothing against Zabuza. He was brutal and sadistic but a competent shinobi with a sense of honor. He and Itachi had never done missions together, but they crossed paths regularly because they occupied the same territory. Zabuza had an apprentice, Haku, with whom Itachi got along better. Probably because they had the same quiet nature. Haku regularly offered him, in silence, herbal teas. He was sensitive and intuitive… He must have guessed the illness that was gnawing at the young Uchiha's lungs. But he had never said a word of it, and Itachi appreciated his discretion.

Zabuza was much less discreet. Abrasive, brutal, rude, and intrusive, he was also horribly talkative. That said, he was respectful of Itachi's boundaries, which was pretty much friendly for someone labeled as a Demon of Kiri. Sometimes, Itachi wondered if Zabuza, in his gruff way, wasn't trying to take Itachi under his protection the same way Haku was. Itachi didn't need any protection, of course, but he couldn't help thinking that Zabuza was keeping an eye on him… And really, he had no professional interest in doing that. Nor had he a professional interest in buying him food. Zabuza was a mystery.

“The question arises,” Zabuza insisted in his hoarse voice when Itachi remained silent. “I suspect you didn't kill them all to purge the world of their Kekkei Genkai. The whole clan, Itachi?! That’s nuts! You must have really had it over your head. I know, that's what I was thinking when I wasted all my comrades at the Academy.”

“I know, Zabuza,” Itachi said flatly.

Zabuza had already told him, in great detail, about the massacre of his Academy comrades that had earned him his nickname. Kiri's Demon had enjoyed killing his peers, but he had also done it because he was enraged at the idea that the final exam would be a sadistic game where the strongest had to kill the weakest while the teachers were taking bets. And Zabuza had achieved his goal, after all. The barbaric custom had disappeared from his village.

“So?” Zabuza insisted. “Did you hate the Hokage?”

Itachi shook his head. The other insisted, a darkly amused glint in his eyes:

“And your clan? Or your dear dad?”

Itachi wanted to shake his head again then hesitated. The truth was… he didn't know. He knew he didn't hate the Sandaime. He didn't even hate Danzo who had ordered him to destroy his clan. But… The clan… He thought of the clan and he thought of Shisui and his empty eye sockets, of his father's contemptuous gaze, of the barely concealed jealousy of the other Uchiha, of Izumi's eyes full of tears when her family had been chased away, to the loneliness that weighed on his shoulders every day, to the anguish and the rage and the feeling of helplessness that grew in his chest like a parasite…

“Oh, the silence is telling,” Zabuza sneered, picking his teeth with a senbon. “Even for someone as lacking in passion as you! What do you say, Haku?”

Haku, who quietly drank his tea without saying a word, tilted his head and whispered:

“I agree with you.”

“Of course,” the swordsman snorted disdainfully. “Come on, Itachi, make me laugh. Who do you hate the most in the world? Who do you want to destroy at all costs?”

Itachi thought of Danzo, the Hokage, and even Jun, without feeling an ounce of anger. No, the hate was not that. Uncertain, Itachi thought of the fear and rage he had felt during certain missions. He thought of the enemies he had seen slaughtering his comrades in the ANBU. He thought of the masked man who had killed his fellow Genin.

“Nobody,” he whispered.

But it was a lie. And by the way Zabuza burst into his hoarse laughter, he had guessed it perfectly. Itachi got up to leave. He reached into his pocket to pay, but Zabuza stopped him with a carnivorous smile.

“I'm the one inviting you, Itachi. To celebrate the occasion!”

Itachi was now fifteen years old. It had been a year and a half since he had left Konoha. He was trying not to think about it.