I managed to get some sleep after cleaning myself up - though by the time I was done with my shower, I'd spent so long blankly staring at the pinkish water running down the drain that it was close to dawn by the time I collapsed into bed.

I slept fitfully. Fugaku's smile at the end played over in my head. My hands felt tacky. I could still hear cut-off screams, like a far off chime.

The night seemed to drag on forever as I tossed and turned, switching between too hot and too cold, rolling on the border between fever dreams and lucidity.

Someone banged on my door. I jerked up, tangled in the sheets, and I tripped and fell to the floor as I pulled myself out of bed. I stumbled through the house, still half-caught in a sleepy haze and hallucinations of smiles and screams.

I opened the door. On the other side was Saya.

Everything snapped into clear focus - like icy water pouring down my back. She looked at me for a moment, with big wet eyes and a red, puffy face. She opened her mouth, once, twice. Nothing but a strangled sound came out.

Her face contorted and she broke down into hysterical sobs on my front step.

The Uchiha district was swarming with Jounin, trying to do the work that would've belonged to the Uchiha Police Force. The bodies in the streets were covered with black tarp, but the blood was everywhere. It was a rusty red against the ground, the white-washed walls, spattered over the clan symbols. No one spoke above a hushed whisper.

Overhead, crows crowed and settled thick in the trees.

I stood in front of the house I'd been in just a few hours ago. On the door was a bloody handprint. In the daylight it was garish, accidental.

I went inside. Itachi was in the living room, kneeling next to a body covered in a white cloth, head bowed. Something inside of me shriveled and died.

His mother was with him. I'd forgotten about her. I wondered where she'd been.

Itachi slowly looked up as I came in, but didn't say anything. Instead, Mikoto stood gracefully and took my hands, white as a sheet, but with the lines of her face set firmly into an expression of dignified grief.

She thanked me for coming.

I waited, sitting on my knees next to Itachi. He didn't say a word. His face was blank as he looked down at the body of his father. I briefly wondered if he'd collected the head and placed it back where it belonged, because the sheet draped naturally.

Shisui arrived shortly after, disheveled and clammy. I rose to greet him. Before I could say anything, he swept me in a crushing hug. It was so tight my bones creaked. It hurt. His curly hair, damp with sweat, brushed my cheek.

He let me go and mumbled an apology.

All three of us sat in a row and waited.

Eventually, Minato arrived. He spoke with Mikoto off to the side. He looked like he'd been pulled out of bed, like I was. He looked like his nightmare had been pulled along with him.

They needed to talk. Mikoto kept her head high and left with Minato, but not before turning to the three of us and telling us to go get some fresh air.

Itachi staying sitting still, staring at his father. He had no desire to go anywhere. Shisui whispered to him, said we should go see Sasuke in the hospital.

That was the right thing to say. Itachi left his father's side, and the three of us headed out into the harsh glare of sunlight. We walked through the Uchiha district. The crows were multiplying. I couldn't tell if they smelled a meal, or if they'd gathered to mourn.

We went to the hospital, and sat in the waiting room while Itachi saw his brother. The plastic chairs were hard and uncomfortable. I realized I hadn't eaten anything all day, but the thought of food made me want to vomit. I downed cup after cup of the bad coffee from a small station out in the hall. Shisui looked at me sideways after my fourth cup, but didn't say anything. He leaned back in his chair, sprawled as if he was boneless. I could smell his sweat. There were deep, bruise-like shadows under his eyes.

Itachi was kicked out of the hospital room around mid-afternoon. We ended up in the front courtyard with nowhere to go and nothing to do. Itachi, for all his reluctance to leave his father, didn't seem to want to go back. Shisui simply stared passively into the distance.

I made an executive decision.

I lead them to a slightly seedy establishment near my apartment, walked through the door into the cool, smoky darkness, put my wallet on the counter and told the bartender to keep them coming.

They had never drank before. It was legal, since we were ninja and adults by more or less any standard, but we'd never had the opportunity. I had, once upon a time, but they didn't know that about me. They didn't know anything.

I poured the boys cups of sake, then filled my own cup. I downed it in one go.

They stared at me. I don't know what they saw, what my eyes looked like locked on my cup gleaming in the gloom as I slowly, mechanically, downed the little pitcher.

Eventually Shisui took a sip. He choked and nearly spat it all out.

I was on my fourth cup and Shisui still working on the remains of his first by the time Itachi joined us.

He was more graceful about it than Shisui.

The evening crowd came, but the bar remained quiet. We were still drinking, but much more slowly now, sipping small amounts that tasted sweet and didn't burn anymore. I'd missed this.

Somewhere down the line, we started to talk.

About nothing. About our childhood. About Hayama-sensei, that first disastrous mission, the Chuunin exams, the war. A lot about the war. I told them about the missions I'd carried out, in full detail.

I confessed about the poison I'd made during the war, that could have ravaged the entire Land of Water. I wasn't sure they grasped the scale of it though.

Itachi told us about the first time he killed. Shisui told us how he'd been thinking about taking a post outside the village, before this all happened.

I told them about my mother's death. Itachi told us about how he'd dived off a cliff to get his crow summon. Shisui confessed he still had that picture, of all of us at Sora-ku, the home of the ninja cats, with all of us wearing cat ears.

Closing time came, and it was time to go home. It was the dead of night and Itachi was too drunk to walk. He insisted he wasn't, but ironically, though he drank slower than us, since Shisui and I had done most of the talking he'd ended up drinking more. We each hooked an arm over our shoulders and headed to my apartment.

Itachi mumbled incomprehensibly the whole way.

I fumbled for my keys and finally got us in. We put Itachi on my bed and he immediately passed out. I got out the spare futon for Shisui. I made sure both of them had water by their bedsides, and containers to throw up in if they needed them. Once they were both soundly asleep, I stole out of the window.

I wandered around for a bit. The late spring air was chilly, and the village was very dark.

I found my way to the park, and sat on the swings. On the streets, the spotlights were like isolated yellow pillars. I felt like I was sitting in a great black pool.

I half-expected someone to come and find me. Kakashi, Obito maybe. Itachi, woken out of his drunken stupor to find me gone from the apartment. Shisui, come to embrace me to make himself feel better.

Saya. Minato, Kushina. Jiraiya?

Anybody.

I waited for a long time.

I sat and shivered a little, completely alone.

The sky was dusted with light blue by the time I wandered home, somewhere on the cusp between drunk and sober, awake and asleep. I climbed back through the window. The boys were still sleeping.

The lines beneath Itachi's eyes were deeper than ever, and his face was tight with anxiety even as he slumbered on. His hands tightly clenched the sheets, but he was rock still.

Shisui was curled into a ball and I couldn't see his face among the thick black curls. He looked very small, almost like a child.

I sat against the wall and half-watched them, half stared into nothing, until eventually sleep overcame me.

The funeral was held a week later.

Mikoto led the pack of children, a dozen or so, ranging from a newborn she held in her arms to Saya and another girl, the oldest at fourteen. Saya held Sasuke's hand. The younger ones looked lost, while the ones who were old enough to understand or maybe to have seen it tried with varying degrees of success to fight back tears.

There were no bodies, the dead having been cremated under Mikoto's watchful eye. I was told none of them passed into the flames without her approval.

Each urn was buried underneath a headstone in a new cemetery next to the Uchiha district, which had been hastily created for the occasion. I stared at rows upon rows of headstones, standing in my neat black clothes while Minato made a speech. There were white chrysanthemums and incense everywhere.

The sky was a magnificent blue.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw the elders, Danzo among them. He didn't acknowledge me, nor I him.

When it was over, the crowd slowly scattered. Mikoto, Sasuke, and Itachi lingered at Fugaku's grave. Shisui, having no real family aside from them, but still unable to intrude on their private moment with the deceased, stood by in the shadow of a tree. I waited with him.

There were headstones as far as the eye could see.

A graveyard just for me.

Over the next few nights, I got almost no sleep. I couldn't even get into bed. It still smelled like Itachi and whenever I got near it my chest tightened and my stomach twisted into a knot so tight I threw up.

I lay on the floor instead.

Now my dreams were mostly headstones - white against the jewel green grass and the pure blue sky. They interlocked with red splatters, a knowing smile, Saya's face as she broke down, the lines of Itachi's face, the expanse of Shisui's back as he curled in on himself.

I didn't see much of anyone, except for Shisui. He made a point to visit me every other day, and I knew it wasn't really because he wanted to see me. He just didn't want to feel alone. Itachi was busy with rites for the departed, and sorting out clan business. Shisui was involved, of course, but he needed a break because he felt so guilty his chest and stomach must have felt just like mine.

He was the one who could've stopped the tragedy. He had Kotoamatsukami.

He didn't know that I knew, but I could tell by his face when he visited. His smile was, whenever it appeared, forced. When he thought I wasn't looking it slid off and was replaced by the crunched, strained look of one whose guilt was eating them alive.

Suspicion had at first fallen on Mikoto, who'd been the only adult spared, but it turned out she was simply visiting the hospital for some tests and had stayed overnight. They had the records and the nurses' testimony to confirm. When I heard about it, I thought it seemed like an attempt by the council members to find the most convenient target and close the chapter as quickly as possible. I was glad nothing had come of it.

I felt like there was a guillotine above my head. I truly did expect the Anbu to show up at my doorstep, or snatch me off the streets, and to wake up in an interrogation room with Minato staring at me like I was a monster. And I knew that when it happened, I wouldn't have any excuses. I wouldn't be able to say, 'I did it for them.'

I had done it for myself. Because I was still, oh so selfish.

And besides, wouldn't they blame themselves ever further if they'd known I'd did it? That, or they would completely turn on me. I didn't know which was worse, so I would avoid both when the time came. I would pretend I'd done it out of hate for the Uchiha, because I wanted to test myself, because I was just a monster and that was that. No need to probe any further. Maybe that would soothe the inevitable surge of anger and guilt.

At the end of one of Shisui's visits, one where he seemed a little more cheerful, he hugged me goodbye.

The next time, he kissed me. I let him.

I didn't feel anything in particular with his lips on mine, dry and smooth, until he pulled away. His face was awash with relief - sheer ease, like a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He cupped my face and slowly ran his thumb along my cheek.

He looked at me like I was all that was precious in the world.

Summer came. I took a few missions, here and there, but I wasn't on the active roster and I didn't really need to make more money, so I spent a good part of my time either wandering the city at night, unable to sleep, or drowsing on the floor during the hottest part of the day.

Crickets droned up a racket outside, and it was cloyingly humid. Out in the shed, my brand new lab sat unused.

The only true activity I did was go out with Shisui.

Once a week or so, we would go someplace. We didn't spar during that time, but did things like eat somewhere, or visit a garden, or window shop in the main shopping district. For all that the intent seemed to be to steer as far away from ninja-related activities as possible, we always drifted back some way or another - looked at shuriken, or mesh armor, or fire-resistant clothing - stopping to watch children play pretend like we'd once done, and laugh a little, at us or at them I couldn't tell - encountering an acquaintance on their way way to or from a training session.

The mood in the village, which had been jubilant after the end of the war but dampened by the massacre, was slowly beginning to recover as people settled into a life of peace. The tensions with the Uchiha had strained the entire village, but now with the clan reduced to a handful of children and a few teenagers whose loyalty was firmly set with the Hokage, that tension had relaxed, drooped, and dissolved.

There had been an upsurge of crime, with the Police Force gone, but Minato set up a new version, a sort of prototype internal security force partially based on the Uchiha's old model, but nowhere near as controversial. The members were regular genin and chuunin, with a few jounin to give direction. Unlike the Uchiha, who lived far away and were often seen as hostile strangers when they patrolled, these new forces were locals - neighbors, customers, friends. This went a long way in soothing over the transition.

Shisui intended to join, once the clan issues had been dealt with, he told me over tea one day. He had a standing offer from Minato. Whenever he was ready.

I never went to the Uchiha district. Most of it was cordoned off, shut down. The younger children were placed with foster families. The older ones, who'd already started life as ninja, were incorporated into the regular forces and took lodgings in the village. Only Mikoto's family remained in the Uchiha district, in the same house as before.

I couldn't bear to see any of them. Itachi was busy, and I didn't seek him out. One time Shisui and I ran into him, while he was coming back from something with Sasuke in tow. My blood ran cold at the sight of the little boy I'd strangled that night. He returned my gaze with open hostility, and hid behind his brother's leg. For a moment I thought the genjutsu had broken and my blood froze. But then Itachi smiled slightly and the conversation went on. I made up some excuse to leave.

Saya began living on her own. She'd stop by, every so often, though we didn't have much to talk about. We'd eat sweets and drink fruit juices. One time, she said, looking into her glass,

"I'm so glad you're still alive. If you were gone, I don't think I could keep living."

And she smiled at me, so innocently happy it made something inside of me melt. Being with her was soothing. She didn't want anything from me. She just wanted to be with me. And seeing her reminded me of why I'd done this. She was alive. She was happy. That alone made it worth it, even if my gut still wrenched at the thought of her and Itachi together.

But they'd be happy. They would all be happy. Maybe not right now, but they would. I'd made it happen.

Summer flowed on, as if in a haze. A blazingly hot day turned into a sweltering night that didn't seem to cool at all. I had thrown the windows open to try and catch a breeze when, in the dark of night, a messenger wearing a white porcelain mask appeared.

I was sweating through my thin nightclothes. My hair stuck to my neck, and the humid air felt oppressively heavy. It was hard to breathe. It was like a noose had been placed around my neck and was slowly tightening as I held the scroll.

I realized that this was what I had been waiting for.

The mission from Danzo was a simple one. It had to be done in the utmost secrecy, and it had to be done quickly. I left the village the next morning, leaving a short note for Shisui.

I travelled all day in the heat, barely tempered by the shade of the massive trees cloaking the Land of Fire. My destination was a small castle town to the west, near the border with the Land of Wind.

I arrived at nightfall and looked over the perimeter. I located the castle, the exit routes, the guards manning the outer wall. Security wasn't exactly tight. One soldier yawned and leaned on his halberd as I ran up the wall and flew by like an owl in the night. I jumped from roof to roof, quickly, because the moon was bright and I didn't want to chance a civilian looking up and seeing my shadow.

Thought if they had, they would probably think it was just the play of clouds over the sky.

I reached the castle and slid down the inner wall, landing in the courtyard just outside the service entrance. I crouched in the corner to assess the situation. With my Sharingan, I could tell where people were, and most importantly if there were any shinobi standing guard. There were, in the central tower, outside the lord's chambers and down by the entrance.

I was in a slight bind. I couldn't use any of my usual poisons. If I did, an investigation by Konoha would trace it back to me - the substances I used were unique. Since I'd been required to hand all that information over, anything I might use would serve as a unique calling-card.

Danzo had been clear. This was off the books.

Thankfully, I had more than one trick up my sleeve.

I stayed in the shadows as I moved around the inner compound, looking for the best place to scale. There were very few lights on, but there were some, and it took me some time to find a side of the building that was completely dark. Once I'd identified my angle of attack, on the side not illuminated by the moon, I got to work.

I ran up the building, jumped from one curved roof to the next, all the while keeping an eye on the chakra signatures inside. Once I was on the very top, I pried shingles off with a kunai until I saw the wooden structure underneath. Taking a deep breath, I dropped down into the claustrophobic space beneath the eaves.

It was horribly hot. The sun had been beating down on the roof since dawn, and all that trapped heat had turned the crawl space into a furnace. I groped around in the dark, shivering at the cobwebs lashing my face, until I found the edge of a board. I pried it up. Faint candlelight flooded in from below. I was over a corridor. The guards, and the lord's bedroom, were a short distance away.

I swung down and, clinging to the ceiling on all fours, made my way across the hall until I was right above the guards.

My Sharingan spun as I calculated the angle of attack. I dropped like a spider and drew my sword, slashing their throats in one swipe. Their mouths made big 'o's and their eyes were wide with surprise as they fought for breath against the blood flooding their lungs. I stabbed my sword through their eye sockets to finish them off. I didn't like the idea of them flopping like fish on the ground. It felt too messy.

I entered the lord's chamber, and completed my mission.

I made my way back to the village. My mind was in a fog.

I had dinner with Shisui. He gave me a kiss goodnight and I went into my lab. I sat at my desk and stared emptily at my equipment. Instead of doing anything new, I tried to reorganize the bottles and boxes lying around. I gave up halfway through. My heart wasn't in it.

I took a dark glass vial, one of many neatly stacked vertically in a box with cardboard supports. It was the nerve gas, I'd made during my first deployment.

The one that had earned me my nickname, and that had proven I could be tricked and controlled.

Back then, I hadn't questioned the odd orders, the directives to gas the enemy camps in the dead of night - assuming that Minato had ordered them, I'd gone along and obediently did what had been asked of me. Only later did I realize that it had most likely been a scheme by Danzo to see how easily manipulated I could be.

It was also this same gas that I had rigged throughout the village to coerce Danzo into letting me carry out the massacre, for no other reason than it being the most deadly and effective I had in stock. I'd checked - every single one of the bombs had been disarmed and disassembled. It probably hadn't taken Root very long to do it.

It had been a one-shot card that burned itself out once used. Now, I had no longer had any cards to play.

I'd known this would happen since I'd conceived the plan - known full well that short of leaving the village, I had no leverage of any kind.

If I went against him, he could turn on me and tell Minato I'd been the one to commit the massacre. He could prove it by the gas I'd rigged throughout the village - say I'd forced him to keep quiet, to keep his forces away while I committed the massacre.

If I tried to say that he forced me? Clearly, he hadn't, as evidenced by the bombs I'd rigged. I could deny it, but an in-depth investigation would see the Yamanaka clan dig through the survivor's brains, uncovering the genjutsu I'd had Obito place on Sasuke. It was probably due to Danzo's influence that it hadn't been done already.

If I'd had any sense left in me, I would have done what Obito said and left the village. But I couldn't bring myself to do that. It would be almost the same as admitting guilt. And besides, I didn't want to leave. I wanted to stay, even if it hurt, and see for myself, reaffirm that what I had done wasn't for nothing.

In short, I was trapped. I'd trapped myself.

But I'd known full well that would happen. It was the only way to keep Danzo away from those two. It was the only way I could think of keeping them safe.

Or at least, I hoped it would.

When the second mission scroll came my way, I obediently set out.

When the third came, I canceled a date with Shisui.

When the fourth . . .

And the fifth . . .

And before I knew it, I'd lost track.

As they got more difficult, more time-consuming, more dangerous, and I started coming back with wounds I couldn't go to the hospital for, all I could tell myself was that it was all worth it.

AN/ Sorry for the wait. This hasn't been a very good year for me. Family in the hospital, pets dying, changes in my childhood home, it just hasn't been very good at all.

I may need to start shortening these chapters. A lot of the time it takes me to write them is due to pressure to make them above 6,000 words. This one is shorter than that. I think that if I stop pressuring myself I may be able to get them out quicker.

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Peace out.