Naruto Fanfic - With the eyes of God

Awake

A slow and constant beeping was the sound that managed to pierce through the cloak of unconsciousness that had covered me up to that moment. It wasn't my ringtone, but it carried with it a constant insistence that I couldn't really deny. Groggily, and feeling my stiff body protest against each movement, I stirred, noticing the minute beeping slightly increase its tempo.

I opened my eyes to see a white ceiling, white tiles on the floor, and white paint on the walls. I was in a hospital room, tucked in a bed with white sheets and a clutter of white machinery that monitored my life signals. I blinked blearily a couple of times, slowly but surely bringing my hands to my eyes in order to scratch out the sleep-grime that still going to my eyelids.

Deliberately, I took stock of myself, wiggling my toes, feeling my legs twitch and answer to my commands, even if the soreness of my muscles was real, before passing my hands slowly over my torso.

Finally, I decided that I spent enough time checking myself for the worst of injuries, after all, waking up in a hospital wasn't good news, the circumstances of my awakening in the hospital would have turned out worse if I awoke with a missing limb. What the fuck did I drink the night before to wake up in the hospital?

With a grunt of exertion, I sat on the bed, groggily moving my legs on the side before sliding down, feeling the urge to empty my bladder. I sucked on my teeth for a moment, realizing that I was also thirsty after what probably was a hangover coupled with either an incident or a brawl at the pub.

Well, at least I wasn't handcuffed to the bed, that would indicate a far worse night that I can't remember. I thought as I yawned heavily, immediately identifying the door that led to the in-room bathroom.

I quickly relieved myself before reaching over to the tap and washing vigorously my face. It was then that I noticed that something was... out of place. Namely, the room seemed to be sized for a three meters tall man.

I walked back into the hospital room, looking for my actual clothes even if what I supposed had happened the night before didn't foretell anything good about their state, and only as I forced myself to climb over the bed in order to pull up the curtains that kept the room shielded from the sight of the city and the likely harsh glare of the sun, I realized, belatedly, just how short I was.

The room was perfectly proportioned: from the chair in one angle to the bathroom to the position of the machinery that had been monitoring my heart rate until I took off the wires taped on me.

I frowned, recalling that I hadn't been able to see myself in the mirror for I was too short to reach, it, but I discarded that particular once I pulled apart the curtains to watch over the city.

Only, it wasn't a city.

It wasn't anything for which I had words.

With numbness spreading over myself, I stared at the monument that was the trademark of Konohagakure no Sato for what looked like a lifetime. My blood rushed to into my ears and I could only hear the beating of my heart. I forced myself to look around and try to find out if it was only a big cosplay movement moment or not.

Not far from the hospital, I could see a park that had a low wooden fence and a number of benches, with an abundance of bushes and skimpy trees, slides, and even a sandbox. Without really thinking about what I was doing, I opened the window, ignoring the person that I could see with the tail of my eye on my left, and breathed in: it didn't smell like a city. The air was crisp and clean, and the incessant rustle of leaves washed over my ears like the evermoving sea once I removed the glass barrier that separated us.

Trees were sprouting everywhere between the buildings, and while there wasn't a single cloud in sight, leaves were fluttering everywhere over our heads. Looking back, even cultists wouldn't give wooden kunai for children to play with. Or would they? After watching "The Following" I thought that everything was possible for a cultist.

My eyes roamed down the street, spotting three kids walking down the road laughing among themselves, I immediately recognized their Hitai-ate. They had forgettable faces and moved... well, like civilians actually, no show of magic chakra powers of any kind. For a moment, I started to relax. It's only a cult of Naruto. I thought, somewhat relieved. The situation still had a lot of problems and issues I needed to solve, but I had to deal with humans, no strange shit. Physics was still real, and I wasn't going to attend Hogwarts, I didn't have to find a strange ring to toss into an active volcano. Surviving was doable.

I blinked, and in a gust of wind, a man with a shiny Hitai-ate appeared in front of the trio I was observing, scaring them shitless. Probably the trio had done some bullshit, I had other thoughts running amock amok in my head. It's real. sounded in my head.

I ran, without direction nor reason, it wasn't like I knew anything about what the fuck was going on, did I? I hoped in a bad joke or nightmare of some kind, but it was simply outside the realm of possibilities, I felt the clothes on my skin, the breath running heavily through my labored, far-too-small lungs, there was no machine or trick that could mimic being once more in the body of a child.

I tore through the corridors of the hospital like a man possessed, throwing myself down a ramp of stairs and staggering back to my feet as soon as I could, and in less than a minute, I was on the street.

I ran into the closest park, stopping only at the edge of a small course of water where I dived in head-first, hoping that the cold water managed to do what washing my face could not, only to stop as I spotted my reflection in the water.

The black hair of a medium length, black eyes, chubby yet fine features that I immediately recognized: my reflection belonged to a 7 years old Sasuke Uchiha, from the manga Naruto.

Yesterday, I was getting plastered with some friends at the pub, and maybe I had decided to drive home instead of waiting for a cab, I didn't know.

Now, I was in Konohagakure no Sato, in the newly awakened body of Uchiha Sasuke, right after Itachi's killing spree.

I need to run away. I decided immediately: even without considering the madness that was my situation, being in the body of Sasuke of all people was a sure ticket to whatever shit was about to go down in the story, and I sure as hell had no need for it.

I fell on my ass still staring at my reflection, my mind stilling and running useless circles as I lost the ability to react to what was happening to me.

A smudge of color attracted my attention on the other side of the river, where a man in a black skinsuit and grey armour was staring at me from under a white mask painted with the rough features of a bird of some sort.

"Sasuke Uchiha, Sandaime-sama wishes to speak with you now that you're awake." the masked figure, no, the ANBU, spoke.

Fuck. Was my prominent and only thought.

Eyes of the Devil

The ANBU landed a hand over my shoulder before I could in any way react to his presence, and the world around me blurred for a stretch of long seconds.

In those instants, where I was rendered utterly powerless both from my situation and the lack of familiarity with anything that was related to the magical mumbo-jumbo that went on with all chakra-related matters, I felt something utterly... new.

I had eyes, and thusly I could see, ears, and through them, I could hear, I could feel thanks to my skin, and smell and taste with my nose and tongue respectively. Yet, along with the input that my senses gave to me, I perceived, almost like in a dream, something akin to a cocoon of wool wash around me, holding me unbearably tight, like a hand shielding the flickering flame of a candle.

It's not real, it's not real, it's not real, it's not real, it's not real...

The blur of the world shifting around me came to a still, and my eyes were once more able to focus on the surroundings. I was in a circular room, with a tall library behind the desk where the Hokage was currently sitting, on the left of which stood an impressive pile of paperwork. The door we likely came through had tall windows on both sides, and the left one allowed the Hokage to see the mountain with the faces of the others that had shared the job. On the walls sat pictures of the ones that had held the weight of the hat, from the Shodaime to the Yondaime.

I cringed when I realized that my disbelief for the situation had better be placed on hold lest I had a psychotic break. I need some kind of base, something... a place where I can think.

A twitch of my nose made me realize that there was even a pot of freshly picked flowers, and if I knew something about bouquet composition, I would even have known its meaning. Then I looked at the Man with the Hat. In the brief second that I had spent taking in the environment, he had all the time necessary to look me over, and in that instant, I knew that the only thing I could make use of was the trauma of the child's body I had awakened into in order to hide my actual thoughts.

"Sasuke-kun," the extremely lethal geezer seated at the desk spoke with a warm light in his eyes, "it's good to see that you've awoken, the past days worried us greatly."

Oh fuck. Oh fuck, oh fuck oh fuck. My thoughts seemed to be running in circles as the Hokage spoke to me in what I assumed was a soothing voice. It could have even worked, if only I didn't already know that this guy readily allowed/ordered the extermination of a whole fucking clan. My clan. The thought was quickly discarded, while I still tried to find a way to... What the fuck can I do?

I didn't actually listen while the Hokage responsible for the extermination of the Uchiha Clan, the event that somewhat caused my being dropped into Sasuke Uchiha's body right after the massacre, Wasn't Sasuke some rebirth of the Sage's son? Is it related to my situation?, my mind kept tallying questions that I couldn't answer while the Sandaime explained that I would be placed in an apartment with trustworthy people helping me until I managed to take care of myself.

Who is so stupid to drop a child alone after his traumatic loss of the whole family? My head snapped towards the aged shinobi when he finished. Like hell I was going to keep around spies anymore than I needed to, and even as a part of me knew that I would be kept under watch for the rest of my years in Konohagakure no Sato, it didn't mean I was going to be happy about it, nor that I wouldn't fight for any inch of space I could get away with.

"I can look after myself." I spoke, surprising myself at how little my voice wavered. I felt like I was about to be swept away by a landslide, and the only thing keeping me from a messy death was a paper-thin shield built both from my disbelief and the ignorance of those around me. They had no reason to believe me anything but a kid, and since they never did anything to stop Sasuke from becoming a sociopath, I hoped that I could live a semblance of normal life in which I didn't need to play pretend with would-be killers. "And the... my clan's land is mine, I'll live there."

The Hokage leaned back into his chair, his fake grandfatherly persona looking me over with a most believable concern: "Sasuke-kun, you're very young..."

"And the only survivor of the Massacre, it doesn't make me an invalid." I frowned as put forth all the determination that I could muster. To be truthful, interrupting the boss in a tyrannical and militaristic society wasn't the best thing I could do, but the promise of Itachi's vengeance was likely the only thing that stopped the Sandaime's hand from killing me along with anyone else from the Uchiha clan. It's not real, it's not real, it's not real, it's not real, it's not real...

Keeping the children of the Uchiha alive was the smartest move, they could have taught them to hate everyone not-Konoha, and in a generation, they would have had the Uchiha clan once more. I ignored the thoughts that kept running in my head as I looked at the Sandaime, which showed some amusement at my stubbornness. I could imagine how I looked, but having a nanny was really more than what I could tolerate. I was still mildly surprised by not having blown the whole situation.

"How about a trial run, Sasuke-kun? Your home will be cleaned, and as long as you prove that you can take care of yourself, I see no reason to force you in one of the apartments. There will be a D-rank mission monthly assigned to our genin to take care of the upkeep of your compound, do we have an agreement?" the Sandaime smiled as he made his counteroffer, and I didn't need to think a lot about it before nodding.

I wasn't like I wasn't going to be watched anyway, and taking care of a who-knows how-large compound was beyond my skills, still, in this way, I would have an illusion of privacy along with a large area to mind my own business in: "I'll clean up myself." I grimaced even as the words left my mouth, but I imagined that a lot of notes about this or that jutsu could be found in the Uchiha's compound, and leaving other people to clean it up wasn't wise.

I shivered at the idea of moving the corpses. How do people here do funerals? Can I make a big ass pyre? It's not real, it's not real, it's not real, it's not real, it's not real...

"Your clan members have already been taken care of, Sasuke-kun, the funerals will be held as soon as you feel ready." the Hokage smiled gently at me, pity clearly written all over his face. "As for your clan's belongings, I'd rent out..."

For the following fifteen minutes, I basically found myself haggling with the Hokage: no, I didn't want to rent out my clan's houses to strangers, no I wasn't going to sell the belongings of my people to make money, yes, I was fine with having no entrances, since my the amount of money my clan had amassed was surely enough to keep me fed and clothed, along with the upkeep of the D-rank necessary to maintain the gardens and streets of the Uchiha's compound.

It bowled down to the implications of my first statement, I could take care of myself, especially with the kind of resources I had on my hands. Did I feel guilty by taking advantage of the death of a whole clan? A bit, was I in a position that allowed me to ignore the faintest advantage? No.

"Being the last living Uchiha in the village, I'm the only one fit to inherit lands, bank accounts, heirlooms, and whatnot." I stated clearly, deciding that if I was to live the life of Sasuke, I was going to squeeze everything out of it: "Thank you for having taken care of my clan, but I'll be the one to clean the compound." it would give me time and resources to look in every nook and cranny, ferreting out whatever secret the Uchiha shinobi could teach me through their notes, if there were any. And I didn't fancy losing a Summoning Scroll if there was the possibility of inheriting it.

"You're a very mature boy, Sasuke-kun." the Hokage spoke at last when we finished agreeing upon what we were going to do with me. I nodded calmly, not offering an answer. Itachi had been a prodigy had he not? I could only hope that the circumstantial evidence about my strange behavior could be passed off as a combination of the results of both the trauma and genes finally peeking through.

The Hokage's eyes turned to the side then, and a man walked out of shadows I hadn't noticed were there: long blonde hair, squared jaw, and cyan blue eyes without pupil looking at me with another mask of concern.

Maybe he was actually sorry for me, I couldn't tell, but I was acutely aware that the Higher Ups of Konoha had been the ones to enable the extermination of the Uchiha, and while in the body of Sasuke I was relatively safe for the time being, I wasn't going to be lulled in a fake sense of belonging. I had a home, I only needed to figure out a way to return. Bullshit-fuinjutsu is a thing, is it not?

"Sasuke-kun, this is Inoichi Yamanaka," the Sandaime Hokage introduced us, "I'd like for you two to have a short chat before being released from the hospital's care."

"I don't want a Yamanaka in my head." I quickly spoke, "As an Uchiha, I cannot allow it." I dragged up every last bit of the unsufferable child with a problematic ego from y memories of Sasuke, finding myself desperately hoping that clan-animosity was a thing in the Naruto World. It's not real, it's not real, it's not real, it's not real, it's not real...

"Normally, members of my family destined to the mental care of people can make use of our family signature jutsu, however, given the impact of the genjutsu inflicted on you, we'll be doing this the old fashioned way." Inoichi smiled in what I assumed was reassurance, and led me out of the Hokage's office, in a smaller room where he sat on an armchair, offering me the admittedly cozy-looking couch instead.

Once I was seated, I focused madly on the current situation: this was going to be my test. If my sudden reincarnation was found out, I didn't doubt that I would end up being nothing more than an experiment on a table, likely only after a great deal of torture, and maybe with a side dish of mind-rape. My heart started hammering madly in my chest, and I felt my stomach churn out acid like I had eaten a brick.

"Sasuke-kun... how do you feel?"

So, it begins. I took a deep breath before answering, knowing that I could only hope to pass off my maturity and lack of grief as a result of Itachi's killing spree coupled with genjutsu. "Tired." and it was true, I was fucking exhausted, I felt almost worn, the situation wasn't exactly conducive towards maintaining my sanity, and sure as hell the general risk of being discovered and strapped to a bed in order to undergo massive interrogation wasn't going to make me feel better.

"It will take some time to accept what has happened, and the best way to do so is to talk about it." the soothing voice of the blonde futilely tried to reassure me: "So, I fear I'll need to be more specific, and don't fear, I want you to know that you're safe, and that I'm not your enemy."

Wrong. I withheld what I knew was a burst of hysterical laughter bubbling up from my belly: "How do you feel about it, Yamanaka-san?" I tilted my head slightly, trying to turn cards upon my opponent: "

"We're not here to talk about me, Sasuke-kun." he gently reprimanded me, and he frowned slightly when he received only a shrug as an answer.

"It sounds like it's your problem, not mine." my eyes trailed towards the only window in the waiting room that I had been led into. From it, I could see the treetops intersected with the buildings of Konohagakure no Sato, and once more I lost myself trying to come to terms with what happened.

"I'm not your enemy, Sasuke-kun." my badly simulated disinterest forced Inoichi to repeat himself.

"You've already said that." I snorted mirthlessly. How do I make myself seem sane without basically begging for even more suspicion and oversight?

"Being honest with me means being honest and open with yourself, Sasuke-kun, try and actually answer my questions."

"Is there a reason why I should do so?"

"Well, to start with, it's harmful to ignore what you feel." Inoichi tried to soothe what he imagined was a eight years old kid victim of unimaginable horror, and he marginally succeeding in making me less tense since I realized that my cover was nigh unbreakable.

"I'm not ignoring anything, I'm just not discussing it with you."

"Sasuke-kun, opening up is for your benefit." he tried again. It's clear that in Konoha there isn't a university course on children's psychology. A peal of mirthless laughter threatened once more to leave me as my eyes returned on the blonde.

"I'd open up with my family, sadly, I can no longer do so."

The blond flinched minutely before returning to the breach: "I don't wish to cause you harm, Sasuke-kun."

"You don't have to wish." I hissed the last word, briefly letting out my annoyance and rage at the whole situation I was into, hope that it would lead credibility to my performance, and before he could restart this chat again I attacked: "Why are you talking with me?" It's not real, it's not real, it's not real, it's not real, it's not real...

"Because I wish to help you."

"Why do you want to help me?" I insisted then, hoping that Inoichi would take my being confrontational over my ignoring his standard approach. In the end, any reaction was better than the hollow-like facade I had maintained with the Hokage. It's not even a facade, what do I care about the Uchiha?

"Because it's my job."

"And if it wasn't your job, you would not try to help me?" I tilted my head again towards the window, my mind running through scenarios of the future. It didn't happen anything meaningful in Konoha between the Uchiha Massacre and the Chunin Exams, did it? I had some time to find my feet.

Inoichi frowned: "I would still try to help you."

"Why?"

"Because it's the right thing to do." my shrink answered with a soft smile that warmed up his features. It's a pity that I know that every shinobi is a mass murderer.

Liar. "Which of the two? Helping me because it's the right thing, or because by doing your job you can look yourself in the mirror with some measure of pride, and tell yourself and your family that you did the right thing?"

I didn't know how it worked in the Elemental Nations, and given his Bloodline, Inochi might as well be the best psychologist in the Naruto World, but going into a shrink-session expecting to deal with a traumatized child, he was vastly unequipped to deal with an adult, nevermind one that was still coming to terms with the fact that what he experienced was actually happening.

Inoichi frowned at my question: "That's a bit unfair, is it not?"

"So you only want to be able to tell yourself that you're a good person." I nodded exaggeratedly, letting that neverending, mirthless laughter peek out of my lips, "You would love yourself a little less were you not to succeed in 'helping me', and a little more if you managed to, allowing yourself another day in which you can tell yourself that you're rightful and good." I snorted, hoping to distract the man from the cold sweat that covered my skin. I wasn't sure being this aggressive was going to help my situation, but I guessed it was sane enough, and given that I was utterly furious about the whole 'dropped-into-another-world-thing' I hoped to pass my reactions as natural.

"A child shouldn't be this cynical." Inoichi frowned worriedly at me, expertly maneuvering through the verbal joust I was carrying on.

Ignoring the cold sweat that invaded me at his mentioning the lack of childishness in me, I tried to sell my reactions: "I stopped being a child with the death of my parents, of my cousins, of my whole clan."

Inoichi didn't have a ready answer to that, nevertheless, he tried to squeeze every ounce of success he could from my reaction: "Why are you not allowing yourself to grieve for them?"

"Why do you assume I'm not grieving?" I returned to watch Konohagakure no Sato from the window, letting the lightly swaying branches to calm me a little.

"You haven't cried since you awoke in the hospital, you don't scream, you don't rage."

"There is only one worth of my screams and my rage, Inoichi-san."

"And who is this one?"

I turned my eyes towards the Yamanaka, my brain starting to chant endlessly once again. It's not real, it's not real, it's not real, it's not real, it's not real... Fuck Itachi wants to be killed by Sasuke, does he not? He'll come after me eventually, fuck, Orochimaru too. "I'm tired." I spoke, marveling once more at the fact that I wasn't being yet tortured in order to tell them that I was some sort of world hopper.

I rose from my seated position while trying to figure out a way to leave the awfully tricky chat with the Yamanaka: "Can I go? I need to clean the compound."

"I'd prefer if we chatted a bit more..."

"No." I cut down on his words: "I have nothing more to add."

Inoichi seemed to be conflicted about my abrupt reaction, but in the end acquiesced: "We'll talk more in the next days, Sasuke-kun." and with those almost threatening words, I managed to finally leave the room.

Being an avid reader of the manga will pay off I guess... I sighed as an ANBU placed a hand on my shoulder and whisked me away.

In the blurry seconds of transport, I suddenly remembered that both Rinnegan-Sasuke and Obito had been able to travel across worlds with their bullshit eyes. Can I return home? The question presented itself in my mind without my consent, along with the image of Sasuke hopping around, Kaguya opening portals, and Obito managing to do the same during the final battle.

Unbidden, a flicker of hope made itself known in my heart. I wasn't doomed to live and die without reason inside the Elemental Nations, I needed to be careful, but eventually, I could exploit these eyes of mine in order to win the game: the prize would be freedom from the madness that my life had turned into.

I only needed to start by killing Itachi.

Fuck, it's not exactly the easiest thing, is it? Can I stick around until Nagato attacks and steal his eyes then? Thoughts and half-assed plans stopped to churn in my mind when the blur of the world stilled, allowing me to take in a classical medieval-Japanese home, inside of which there were no lit lights, no welcoming warmth.

I gulped as I realized that solitude was going to be my companion for a while still.

Without a word, I made my way inside the house, which luckily had electricity working. My mind continued to look for solutions while I opened a door after another, familiarizing myself with the environment and purposefully ignoring the splatters of blood.

It's not real, it's not real, it's not real, it's not real...

I managed to find bleach, a bucket, and a mop: hating every moment of it, I set myself to clean the sprays of blood from the room in which Itachi had murdered his parents.

It's not real, it's not real, it's not real, it's not real, it's not real...

From start to finish, it took me a couple of hours to clean up the room, and I didn't want to think about what the reaction of the actual Sasuke would have been about the task. I get that children here are remorselessly sent to war, but letting a child clean off the blood of his parents is just sick, is it not? I grimaced a bit, realizing that the generally colorful world of Naruto was somewhat different than the one I was into. If only because nobody saw fit to forbid a child of 7 or 8 years of age from returning alone to the place where his parents had been murdered by his brother. Even if I likely have an ANBU tail.

It's not real, it's not real, it's not real, it's not real, it's not real...

Once I was done with the room where the patricide and matrice had taken place, I dragged my exhaust self towards the bathroom, where I decided I deserved a warm bath. I discarded my clothes and soon enough I was into the hot tub, letting my muscles unwind and purposefully ignoring the world around me.

I was born in Kentucky, I had managed high school with some good and some bad friends, I had my first girlfriend and I had even gotten laid in my last year before college, when I had broken up. My parents were generally absent and busy working, but nevertheless present. I never wanted for anything. Deciding to major in psychology didn't land well at home, but I had been supported nevertheless. I had a reasonably average life. But it was good, and it was mine.

Once the water had gone cold, I rose from the tub, tiredly dragging myself to the sink, where I started to dry myself with a towel, and once again making a conscious effort to ignore the light sobs that shook the chest of the child's body I had been dropped into. I'm alone. There was no mobile to call home with, no train to take back to safety, no friends to help, no future in which I would be able to understand what made the human mind tick.

The face of Orochimaru then pictured itself clearly in my mind, accompanied by the endless succession of battles that canon-Sasuke had survived thanks to a combination of plot armour and skills that I wasn't going to be able to learn, lest I allowed myself to be kidnapped by Orochimaru. And that was without thinking that I was the only Uchiha kid easy to capture in the whole of the Elemental Nations.

The towel dropped from my numb fingers as I grabbed the sink in order to remain standing. I was a dead man walking, and I knew it.

I hiccuped as utter dread made its way into my mind and my sight went out of focus with unshed tears.

Then, there was a shift, while the world took on a purplish-red tint, and despite the tears that I could still feel trapped in my eyelids, the image of the sink in front of me was perfectly clear.

When I rose my gaze to meet the mirror, red eyes were staring back into mine.