"So, Lord Moke, do you have a way to resolve the rift between the Uchiha and the village? If you can truly settle this, I will serve you without hesitation, even at the cost of my life."
Shisui was not naïve. No one offers kindness for free. If Moke valued anything in Konoha, it was likely Shisui himself, the one Moke had called the village's strongest. Shisui made up his mind. He would serve. Yet if Moke ever moved in ways that would wound Konoha or the Uchiha, then even if it killed him, Shisui would stand in the way.
Hearing the pledge, Moke finally pulled his gaze back from the distant view. Keen, he thought. The boy knows exactly what currency he brings. He also read the resolve in Shisui's eyes. He would join Moke, yes, but also watch him, judge him with his own sight. Moke did not dislike that. He never believed in honeyed speeches that make men weep and kneel. Still, if after pledging, Shisui started spreading mercy where only steel would do, that would be a problem. Not fatal though. Wasn't there a certain Uchiha stakeout artist, ever perched on a power pole, to balance him out
Moke smiled and adjusted his posture, just a touch more formal. "Not bad. But Shisui, your oath alone is not enough. Between the two of you, I favor Itachi's temperament. He is decisive."
Shisui hesitated. To him, Itachi was still a child. Mature, yes, but a child. He did not want Itachi dragged into the filth this soon.
Itachi lifted his head. "You saved Sasuke from a hidden threat. I owe you more than I can say. If you will truly help the Uchiha, no matter the outcome, I will serve you."
If fate was going to force him to serve someone, he would choose the man before him. Better this than an indecisive father or the painted kindness of the Third. At the very least, Moke was the strongest in Konoha.
Itachi dropped to one knee and bowed his head.
Moke nodded, satisfied. Whether their vows were pure or hedged did not matter. He trusted himself. If he stayed the course, he would stand in the high skies. In time, Shisui and Itachi would be shaped into blades that matched his hand.
"Before anything else, let me show you what I saw in a parallel world. The end that awaited your clan."
He wanted them to see the film before he offered the cure. A quick fix would not teach them the weight of the debt.
He touched two fingers forward. Before Shisui and Itachi could react, they sank into Moke's memory. Their vision darkened, rippled like water, and opened onto scenes both familiar and strange.
They watched as if from the side of the stage while the Uchiha walked toward their fate.
The resentment in the district grew. Fugaku had no strength to turn the tide and drifted with the current.
Shisui pleaded, and it barely moved the needle.
He reported to the Third and to Danzo. He revealed the nature of his Mangekyo, begging the village for time.
The Third gripped his desk. Danzo's eyes burned with greed.
A month passed. Konoha did nothing. The Uchiha were a volcano fit to blow.
Danzo finally acted, not against the clan but against Shisui, who still held faith in the village. Kotoamatsukami made him restless. He feared it and coveted it. Shisui defeated him with ease and turned to leave.
Danzo knew Izanagi. He sprang his snare and stole victory from defeat. Caught off guard, Shisui fell.
He lost an eye. He lost his path. He could no longer see a single person on whom to cast Kotoamatsukami to mend the break between clan and village.
So he fled. He entrusted everything to Itachi, then leapt into the Naka River and ended himself.
"Itachi, protect the village. And protect the name of the Uchiha."
Watching from the shore in memory, Itachi wept blood. In his eyes, the tomoe spun and settled into a shuriken.
Without Shisui, the clan swallowed its grief and gathered strength. The Police Force began to doubt Itachi. In anger, he put them down. Fugaku appeared. Itachi knelt and apologized. In the father's shadowed gaze there was only weary distaste.
In the hidden chamber beneath Naka Shrine, Fugaku spoke of a bloodless revolution. Help the Uchiha turn the leaf without burning it.
Itachi reported to the elders. Hiruzen wished to turn back from the brink, to avoid that final step.
Danzo came alone. He threatened Itachi. Choose, or the entire clan would die. Sasuke too.
Itachi fell silent, the silence of a decision.
He sought out his enemy, the masked man who had murdered his teammates. The one who called himself Uchiha Madara.
Night. On an electric pole in the Uchiha district, a lone figure perched and looked back at the homes below. The masked man appeared at his side. The watcher's eyes hardened.
First was Uchiha Izumi. A bright girl, too chatty by half. Itachi never minded. Sweet, like a tricolor dango.
Chained by the masked man, Izumi whispered his name. In the memory-space, Itachi's hand went to his chest. A thin line of bloody tears crept from his eyes to the corner of his mouth. Sweet, with metal at the back of the tongue. The tomoe spun on and on.
The memory did not stop.
Breaths went out like candles, one after another, across the district. Outside, Root squads stood and watched, faces carved from ice.
Fugaku appeared. He did not speak. Pain and sorrow clotted in his eyes. Final stop, the clan head's house. It was also Itachi's home.
He slid the door. Stepped in. Fugaku and Mikoto sat with their backs to him, heavy with grief. Fugaku's pupils shifted into a complex form, yet he did nothing. He chose to flee. He chose to die at his son's hand.
Pathetic, Father. Even at death's door you cannot decide. And still my chest hurts.
Itachi, bloody to the elbows, slumped and wept. Darkness filled the room like water in a well.
At last the door slid again. He wiped his face dry and began his final performance.
"This was only to test the measure of my heart."
"Foolish little brother. Grow strong."
He warned Danzo once, then walked out of Konoha without a backward glance. He left as a village spy, and as the masked man's partner.
The memory ended. Shisui and Itachi stood where they were, silent.
"I am sorry, Itachi." At length, Shisui spoke, voice tight. He had not imagined he would choose to run. He had not imagined Itachi would choose to carry everything. To kill the one he loved. To kill his parents. To erase his clan. Even thinking the words chilled him. That quiet shadow of a boy who loved so fiercely became a sinner for the sake of duty.
He finally understood why Moke called Itachi decisive.
Itachi blinked out of his trance and wiped his cheeks clean. He thought more than he spoke. The scenes were true. Even Shisui's Mangekyo could not find a seam in them. Judging from their own hearts as shown, if the village and the Uchiha had truly come to that unmixable point a few months ago, with his older mindset, he too would have walked that path.
Measure of the heart. The phrase tasted like a jest.
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