Chapter One

150 years before Rukia Kuchiki's arrival in Karakura Town

The first thing he felt was a gentle breeze on his face and a soothing carpet of cool grass beneath him. He could hear birds chirping nearby, along with the gentle murmur of a running river. The pain that had wracked his body before was completely gone, and the young man had to pinch himself to make sure that his senses weren't playing tricks on him. He cautiously opened his eyes and was forced to raise his arm to shield himself from the glare of the morning sun.

All of this was a far cry from what he last remembered. Prior to being claimed by darkness, he could vividly recall a decimated and ruined battlefield even though he had been damn-near blind in that final and brutal confrontation. It had not been grass beneath him then, but stone rubble; the blasted remains of the Uchiha Clan hideout. There had been no pleasant breeze or clear sky, but a torrential downpour combined with the searing heat from the hellfire that was Amaterasu.

Is this truly the great beyond?, thought the young man as his gaze adjusted to the light of the blazing orb in the blue sky, I assumed my final destination would be a sea of fire and vengeful wraiths…

The fact that his vision was now perfectly clear would seem to support the fact that he had passed over to the other side; his eyesight had been all but spent by the time his fateful clash with his younger brother had come. There was also a distinct lack of the aches in his chest from the disease that had previously ravaged his body, and he didn't feel like he was about to start coughing up blood anytime soon. Patting himself down, he didn't feel any of the wounds that he had sustained in the fight either, which seemed to support his belief that he had left the mortal coil behind.

Looking around, he found himself standing in what looked like a small clearing. Just like his ears had suggested earlier, there was a river nearby. His throat suddenly felt dry, so the young man went over to it and scooped up some water.

Studying his reflection on the surface of the river, Itachi Uchiha appeared no worse for the wear. His raven hair, tied back in a low ponytail, was perfectly in order, and there were no blemishes or wounds upon his fair skin. Onyx eyes peered back at him from the surface of the water, and he could perceive them in great detail. The black and red Akatsuki jacket he had worn over the past several years was gone, as was the slashed Hidden Leaf Village shinobi headband, but the grey-blue shirt and pants that had been under the aforementioned coat looked quite clean. His sandals appeared good as new too, and to top it off he still had his chain and circlet necklace as well.

"Am I truly dead?" he murmured as he looked around, "This is not quite what I imagined Hell would look like…"

Out of curiosity, his gaze returned to the river as he tried to call upon the unique ocular jutsu that was the hallmark of the Uchiha Clan; the Sharingan. However, the eyes of his reflection on the water remained onyx; there were no crimson orbs or black tomoe orbiting the pupil. He did not feel the surge of power and heightened perception that typically accompanied activating the Sharingan, either. Even with his eyesight as deteriorated as it had become over the years through extensive use of the ocular jutsu's more advanced form, the Mangekyou Sharingan, he had always felt an increase in strength and a sense of precognition each time he had activated the Kekkei Genkai. There was none of that here now, though. His sight was clear, but his Sharingan would not appear.

Looks like you don't take it with you when you die, he mused, I wonder if it might be better this way…

While the Sharingan had been the key to the great power of the Uchiha Clan, Itachi had often wondered in life whether or not that strength was a double-edged sword. When used justly, it granted the wielder the power to defend their friends, family, and village. It was an invaluable asset to those who would use it in the name of peace and justice, but far too often its great gifts had led to arrogance. Too many members of the Uchiha Clan had become wrapped up in pride in their abilities, and that wasn't even getting into the infamous Curse of Hatred that came with the ocular jutsu. Itachi had managed to stay rooted in his beliefs and his mission, thus resisting the all-too-often tragic slide into vengeance and fury that those of the Uchiha bloodline found themselves in, but he had never been blind to the possibility that he might go down that dark path. Even if he had resisted the Curse of Hatred, he knew better than to think that that absolved him of the great crimes that he had committed with the power of the Sharingan.

Far too many had died because of him. If there had been any comfort at the end of his life, it was only the knowledge that with his death his younger brother would have the chance to start anew. Sasuke Uchiha could return to the Village Hidden in the Leaves as a hero for killing the man who had murdered nearly the entire Uchiha Clan, thus saving their family name from complete disgrace. Itachi could also take solace in the fact that he had purged the curse mark of Orochimaru from Sasuke's body, thus freeing his younger brother from the sick grip that the fallen Sanin had had upon him. As a bonus, Itachi was sure that following the battle Sasuke would awaken his own Mangekyou Sharingan, and that would provide him with a powerful new means to defend himself in the future.

Even with that in mind, though, could Itachi truly rest easy? He was all too aware of the hatred that had built up in Sasuke over the years, and Itachi had done his little brother no favors in that regard. Now that Itachi had fallen, would Sasuke's thirst for vengeance truly be satisfied, or would it seek out a new target? There was the very real chance that the Curse of Hatred could consume Sasuke, and that would make everything Itachi had done up until that fateful duel at the Uchiha Clan hideout utterly meaningless.

If Sasuke succumbed to the Curse, would there be any hope of saving him?

An image of a blond boy flashed through Itachi's mind. He was Sasuke's age, and so full of fire, determination… and hope.

And he was where Itachi would place his hope.

Naruto Uzumaki.

A very small smile appeared on Itachi's face. It had been so long since he had shown anyone the slightest measure of trust, but his gut feeling was that his faith in the keeper of the Nine Tails Fox would not be misplaced.

Should the worst come to pass…

…I shall leave Sasuke's fate in your hands, Naruto.

Dusting himself off, Itachi took another look around, studying his new environment. Apart from the clearing and the river he was surrounded mostly by trees, but there appeared to be the outskirts of some kind of settlement not too far downstream.

Well, I suppose there's nowhere better for me to start. It's time to get moving.

The life that Itachi Uchiha, notorious rogue ninja and Akatsuki member but in actuality a loyal shinobi of the Village Hidden in the Leaves, had been born into had come to an end.

It was time for him to begin his afterlife.