36

As Sansa blinked, the godswood dissolving around her, replaced instead by the bar she had been seated in what felt as if it had been hours ago; Kakashi, Tenzo and Jiraiya looked frozen in time, as if they hadn't moved at all. 

Itachi had warned her it would be so, that he controlled how much time would pass in her mindscape under his technique. It was equal parts a thrilling and terrifying notion. If Sansa was in possession of such a skill she could only dream of the seals she would know now, under Mito's tutelage, and all the sleep she could have caught up on over the years. 

She had barely finished this thought when Kakashi had pulled her behind him, his one visible eye narrowed dangerously in Itachi's direction. Sansa could read how Itachi tensed slightly and couldn't help but feel sorry for him. He'd had to do a terrible thing on the orders of his liege lord and now his brothers-in-arms were treating him as a traitor when in truth he was loyal to the bone. What a truly wretched situation.

"It's okay," she said softly, reaching for Kakashi's hand, the one not clenched white-knuckled around a kunai, and lifting it so his palm was resting on her neck, where his thumb could feel her pulse, "I'm fine. I'm not hurt. He didn't hurt me."

Some of the tension eased from Kakashi at the proof to her words in the steadiness of her pulse, at the reasurance of her, whole and safe and alive before him, and across from them Itachi eased too.

"Well?" Jiraiya asked impatiently, apparently fed-up with their drama. "Did Danzo use the damn eye on her or not?"

"He did not," Itachi lied smoothly with not a single visible tell that Sansa could pick up. "Not unless you count Izanagi," he then corrected himself. "That is the name of Sharingan technique he used when she delivered what should have been a fatal blow to him."

If Sansa hadn't already been impressed with the boy, she was now. Because if there had been any tells to his lie, Itachi had just neatly covered himself.

"Good," Jiraiya said gruffly, "now we can get the rest of this cluster-fuck sorted."

Sansa thinned her lips. "Jiraiya-san," she said tightly, "I may currently look older, in order to enter this bar, and I am considered a genius, but I am still seven years old. I ask that you mind your language."

Jiraiya blinked. "You're– right," he said, and he actually looked surprised. "Right, you... you would be. Seven."

While Jiraiya appeared lost over her age, Itachi rose gracefully to his feet, his hand slipping up the sleeve of the kimono of his henged disguise, likely to a pouch hidden there. Kakashi tensed again, Sansa could feel his agitation churning through his chakra, but Itachi simply withdrew from his sleeve a blank sheet of chakra-conducting paper, the type that shinobi used to make storage scrolls and exploding tags, which he carefully placed on the table between him and Sansa– and, by extension, Kakashi and Tenzo– and slid it across halfway. 

Obligingly, and ignoring the line of tension that was Kakashi at her back, Sansa leaned forwards to press a small palm against the sheet. The currents of chakra swirled under her palm at her direction, blazing a storage seal into the paper that lit up a brilliant, eye-searing blue as she lifted her palm away.

Itachi was smiling slightly as he pulled the paper back while Jiraiya just stared, wide-eyed in shock. "How did you do that?" he breathed. "That technique– that's Uzushio-style sealing!"

"And I," Sansa said, with sharp, sharp smile, "am an Uzumaki."

"You don't understand," Jiraiya said, leaning forwards over the table urgently, "that is a lost technique! It was lost when Uzushio was destroyed!"

"When Danzo introduced me to seals, this is what came naturally to me," Sansa lied, easy as breathing. And if Kakashi, whose hand was still on her neck, felt her pulse jump with the lie he didn't say a word.

"Thank you, Uzumaki-san," Itachi interrupted serenely, before Jiraiya could continue to carry on. He had very carefully sealed Shisui's eye in the storage seal Sansa had created for him then tucked it away, and was now obviously preparing to leave.

"Please, considering that at this point you've been inside my mind and I know your deepest, darkest secret, I think you can call me Fuyuko," Sansa said with a lightness she didn't truly feel but with a kindness she did and Itachi actually smiled slightly. It made his shoulders look less weighed down, less like he carried on them the weight of all of Konoha. She wondered if he even realised that his embodied representation in his mind wept tears of blood.

Konoha had ruined this child.

"Then I will, Fuyuko-san," Itachi said, soft and almost-pleased sounding. "And please, call me Itachi."

"Safe travels, Itachi-san," Sansa smiled gently at the boy, who stepped out of the booth to leave. Kakashi let go of her suddenly, moving side-ways to block Itachi's path when he went to move past them. Itachi froze when Kakashi reached for him, but Kakashi just grasped the nape of his neck, not unlike how he had been holding Sansa, and squeezed lightly. Itachi went limp in his hold, looking up at Kakashi with wide eyes. 

"Safe travels, kohai," he murmured and Itachi's eyes turned wet. Tenzo moved too then, shifting around Sansa to join Kakashi in standing before Itachi and Sansa watched in amazement as a purple iris* bloomed suddenly from his palm, the beautiful petals of the blossomg flower delicately unfurling. Once it was in full bloom, Tenzo gently tucked it behind Itachi's ear and Itachi reached up with a trembling hand to touch it, a single tear trailing down his cheek.

He was so young, Sansa thought mournfully. Too young, for such a horrific burden. Her heart ached for him as he cast a last, longing look at Kakashi and Tenzo before fleeing the bar. Tenzo looked forlorn as he watched Itachi go. And Kakashi... Kakashi looked darkly furious.

"If Konoha had wanted the Uchiha gone," he said coldly, rounding on Jiraiya, a terrifying look on his face that Sansa never wanted directed at her, "there were more humane ways to get it done then asking a child to massacre his kin."

Jiraiya's shoulders slumped and he didn't look like he was able to meet Kakashi's eyes. "It wouldn't have been my call," he said quietly.

"He was one of mine!" Kakashi hissed, leaning forwards. "He was one of my team! I'm supposed to watch his back and now he's alone!"

"I know!" Jiraiya hissed back. "But there's nothing we can do about it now, so let's focus on what we can do!"

Kakashi let out a strangled sounding snarl before he sat down again. Sansa debated for a moment then decided to sacrifice her pride for the greater good and crawled onto his lap, curling up there even as Tenzo carefully leaned into Kakashi, radiating a line of warmth and support up his side that Sansa could feel. Kakashi froze for a moment then slumped in place, letting his chin rest over her head. It should have felt utterly demeaning, and yet it wasn't. Surrounded by Kakashi's warmth and scent, she felt secure, safe, and that was no small thing in any world. 

"There's not really much to plan," Jiraiya said, after looking like he wanted to comment on how 'adorable' they were then deciding that he liked his throat intact too much to do so. "Sensei broke his promise. I agreed not to take guardianship of the twins under the condition Danzo didn't get it either."

Sansa very carefully didn't let her emotions show as Jiraiya explicity admitted to agreeing not to take guardianship over her and Naruto. She must not have succeeded entirely, because under the table Tenzo's hand reached for hers and squeezed it gently. 

She just didn't understand. Even as Queen of the North, with all the duties that had entailed, Sansa had still fostered Brienne's children, Jainne and Galladon Lannister, and later she had fostered 'little' Sam's son Herndon Tarly, and she had found the time in her life to teach them and the room in her heart to love them all dearly, even though they'd not been the children of her womb. She just could not imagine walking away from two young babes who needed her, who relied on her, whose parents had chosen her to take care of them, in the event that something happened to them. She just truly could not imagine it.

And yet, Jiraiya had. And for that, she would not forgive him.

Even as her thoughts spun and stalled, trying and failing to make sense of the abandonment, Sansa made sure not to miss any of the conversation happening between Kakashi and Jiraiya as they planned the return to Konoha. There was a part of her that wished otherwise, that Kakashi would just break in and find Naruto and that they would leave, that Konoha would never darken their lives again. But it wasn't to be so (not yet), and Sansa listened to the two men plot out the possible responses of the Sandaime to Kakashi's actions and how they'd respond in turn. 

When it was finally time to return to the inn, Sansa felt ill at ease and found herself reluctant to be apart from Kakashi and Tenzo. It was nights like these when she would have curled up with Shin and she hated how dependant she'd grown on other people. When she was Queen, she had rarely needed anyone else. Oh, for matters of court she'd had her advisors, her fellow lords and ladies with their petitions and disputes, and Arya, her Mistress of Whispers and blade in the dark, and her children– she'd never not needed her children– but she'd never felt as if she had to curl up in someone's arms in order to breathe properly. Not since the days when she was a child who'd escaped from the Red Keep and had yet to realise she'd just run into the arms of another monster had she felt the yearning for such security. 

And after that, she'd known better then to ever seek comfort in the arms of another. Petyr had certainly taught her that lesson.

As they made their way to the rooms of their inn, however, she didn't even need to ask– Kakashi didn't hesitate a moment to steer both her and Tenzo into the one room, throwing the key to the other room they'd rented at Jiraiya and slamming the door in the face of any potential protests, locking it for good measure. It wouldn't do anything to keep a shinobi out, but it sent a rather pointed message and Sansa felt her chest warm.

As Kakashi started setting up traps, Tenzo showed Sansa how to dispel the henge, demonstrating with his own chakra for her to copy, then allowed her to use the bathroom connected to the bedroom of the inn first. Tenzo had apparently sent out a clone earlier to pick up clothes and toiletries for them and Sansa was relieved for the chance to have a hot shower, washing days of travel and fighting out of her hair then changing into a simple linen shift and loose pants that reached her mid-shin. Simple heating seals on both her palms followed by running her hands through her hair quickly dried the wet, tangled strands, making it easy to run a brush through her hair then braid it before bed.

Sansa felt awkward for a moment, staring at the lone bed she was supposed to share with two grown men– well, mostly grown, Tenzo was still a teenager– but she was tired and she wanted to lay down on a mattress after a night of sleeping on the ground, so she simply curled up in the middle, and when Kakashi and Tenzo later joined her, creating a protective cradle of limbs around her, Sansa didn't feel awkward– she felt safe.

~

If their circumstances were different, Itachi thought he could have been friends with someone like Uzumaki Fuyuko. She might wear a skin of calm grace, but he had been offered a rare glimpse past those masks, to her bones made out of seas and storms and chaos.

Her mindscape was something otherworldly, just like she was. When using the Mangekyou Sharingan to look into her gaze, the endless depths of her eyes nearly drowned Itachi in the icy, unfathomable currents of the ocean. And surrounded by the pale-trunked trees with their bleeding leaves and weeping crimson faces, he swore he could feel the force of the gods staring down at him, could feel the weight of their judgment like an executioner's blade over the back of his neck.

No wonder she held such strength in her slight form, if that was what she lived with, what she contained within her. Itachi wondered if Fuyuko even realised the force of her personality. If she even realised how she dragged people in, how Kakashi and Tenzo revolved in her orbit, how Itachi himself found himself drawn to her. She was starlight, at once horrifying and brilliant, and like any Uchiha, Itachi just wanted to burn.

Uchihas fell so quickly to obsession.

Just for the priceless gift she had bestowed upon him unknowingly, he owed her a debt he could never repay; a gift he thought he lost to him forever when he had accepted the mission to exterminate his clan– his old team.

He could still feel Kakashi's phantom grip on the back of his neck, gentle, firm, and warm; and Tenzo's gift of a purple iris acknowledging his 'loyalty', now tucked away close to his heart... Itachi couldn't even help his tears, and in that moment, back in the bar, all he'd wanted was to throw himself at the mercy of the Hokage and beg for him to reveal the truth so that Itachi could go home. If he'd stayed even a second longer, he didn't think he'd have been able to stop himself. He hadn't stopped running for hours, he was so convinced he would turn back the moment he did.

He was exhausted by the time he eventually arrived in Amegakure. The village was nothing like Konoha and maybe it was the small taste of home that made it so much more unbearable this time as he stepped through the heavy set of gates that opened with the ring on his finger. He passed Konan as he made his way through the castle of steel and she nodded somewhat absently to him and he nodded back politely before making his way down various flights of stairs, to a section of the fortress he rarely entered.

The laboratories, after all, were where Orochimaru had made his home.

Not for much longer though, Itachi presumed. Orochimaru was already getting restless. He had joined the Akatsuki out of curiosity and for the sake of resources more than actual interest in world peace, he thought, and sooner or later he would test himself against Itachi in an attempt to gain himself a pair of Sharingan eyes and would end up losing his position in Akatsuki.

Or maybe not. Because Itachi had a new offer for him.

Itachi had never truly disliked Orochimaru. It was indisputable fact that the man went too far in his experiments. But as a fellow child prodigy who had been pushed and pushed by his superiors until he'd nearly broken (with the rest of the world so easily believing he had broken), he did understand how Orochimaru ended up the way he had. That didn't excuse the suffering, of course, and it in no way condoned Orochimaru's actions– Tenzo was his team-mate– but that didn't mean he couldn't sympathise with the man.

"Ah, Itachi-kun," Orochimaru greeted him, tone as sibilant as one of his snake summons as he straightened up from the sleek silver surface of his lab bench he'd been leaning over, peering at a yellowing scroll. "To what do I owe the honour?"

"I would like you to perform a Sharingan transplant," Itachi said, not bothering to dress up his words mostly just to see Orochimaru try and fail to hide his shock. "I'll let you keep the extra eye as payment."

It made sense in the end, after all. Orochimaru wouldn't be able to turn the eye off, so two transplanted eyes would be useless to him. And if he already had one eye, he was less likely to turn his attention towards Sasuke in the future– while Itachi was confident in his own ability to fend off the Snake Sannin, he was less confident in his little brother's chances, nor did he want Orochimaru to kidnap any of the defenceless Uchiha women and children he'd been allowed to leave alive in order to gain their DNA. 

"What is the trick?" Orochimaru demanded– which, fair.

"There is none," Itachi said honestly. "After Danzo's recent death, I was able to recover the eye of a cousin that he stole. Continued use of the Mangekyou Sharingan causes blindness. Transplanting the eye of a close relative is a way of using the Mangekyou Sharingan while preventing this blindness. Seeing as I don't wish to steal my brother's eyes, this is my solution."

And, for Fuyuko, transplanting Shisui's eye would give him use of Kotoamatsukami– which hopefully, would provide a way to break it. After all, as Fuyuko had pointed out, with the activation of the Mangekyou Sharingain came an instinctive awareness of its boundaries and weaknesses and how it worked. Though how she knew that, he wasn't sure. He presumed it had to do with either the Kyuubi– and he wondered if Fuyuko realised just how much of her relationship with the Nine Tails she'd given away by revealing the Kyuubi's preference for they/them pronouns– or through her being favoured by the gods. Or possibly both.

"You know, this is what I like about you, Itachi-kun," Orochimaru said thoughtfully, golden eyes gleaming with avarice, "you don't let morals and centuries-old tradition get in the way of the practicality of what needs to be done."

Itachi nodded placidly, pulling the seal from his pouch. He was surprised to see Orochimaru's eyes light up at the sight of it. "Well!" the Sannin said. "I haven't seen one of those around for years! Tsunade used to bring them back for us when she visited Uzushio– wherever did you find it?"

"It was a gift," Itachi said, feeling a bit awkward now. He hadn't realised it was quite so unusual– he assumed Jiraiya had just been making a fuss of Fuyuko's skills because he was a seal master. Orochimaru making a fuss too implied that Fuyuko's sealing talent was actually more valuable then he realised.

Orochimaru's golden eyes gleamed with unsettling interest.

"Hmm," he said. "How interesting."

Itachi's eyes narrowed, his hand tightening on the scroll and Orochimaru's smile quirked in unspoken understanding before Itachi handed over the storage seal, almost feeling violated with the way Orochimaru stroked it, and moved lightly up so sit up on the bench. "I will be staying awake during the procedure." He said stiffly.

"Yes, yes, of course," Orochimaru said idly, more occupied with the seal then him. "I'll just turn off the sensory nerve receptors around your eyes, it'll feel odd but there'll be no pain. Ah– this is clever! I haven't seen one like this before, it's genius! This really does remind me of Uzushio-style sealing, nothing like they teach in Konoha. And oh, isn't this just lovely!" Now he was cooing at Shisui's Sharingan, which was even worse than when he was having raptures over Fuyuko's seal. Itachi just desperately wanted it all to be over.

It took hours, in the end. Hours of staying stone-still, letting the scientist cut into his skull, watching the scientist cut into Shisui's eyeball because it wasn't quite the right shape for his orbital socket, reconnecting all sorts of nerve endings and arteries and veins and chakra pathways so that the eyeball would actually start growing again with the rest of his body**, until finally Orochimaru was removing the tape holding his eyelids open, the smuggest smirk on his face.

"Perfect!" He practically purred. "Blink now, darling, and turn off that gorgeous work of genetic perfection."

Still feeling rather violated, Itachi blinked and focused on turning off the Sharingan, as he normally would. There was a slight delay, but when he opened his eyes, his vision was normal again.

"Perfect," Orochimaru repeated, nothing short of utter delight on his face. He then made Itachi repeat the exercise several times, turning the Sharingan on and off until there was no delay, then turning the Sharingan Mangekyou on and off.

Itachi could feel the new awareness that had dawned within him the first time he activated Shisui's Mangekyou Sharingan. He knew how to use it now, he knew its strengths, and he knew its weaknesses– it was unbreakable, that was true, but it was also breakable and he knew how. A true paradox. But he knew how to help Fuyuko now, and he would.

Orochimaru interrupted his satisfied contemplations then. "You've given me a gift, Itachi-kun," he said, having lost all of his playfulness from before, replacing it with an odd contemplativeness as he surveyed Itachi with a thoughtful stare. "I don't know why. I don't really like not knowing why either. You could have found other medic-nins who would have done the job. But you chose me, knowing full well what the payment would be. I don't do debts, Itachi-kun. But I will remember this."

"I'm keeping the seal," was all Itachi said, sweeping it up before Orochimaru could and bowing at the Snake Sannin before leaving the laboratory.

~

*Purple iris (shobu) Japanese flower meaning = loyalty

**considering all the eye-transplants that happen in Naruto, I assume there is some chakra fuckery that allows eyeballs to keep growing once they've been transplanted into kids

~

A/N: At this point, Orochimaru hasn't committed a lot of the crimes he has further along. I'm not defending the crimes he has committed, and I won't, but Itachi has a more pragmatic mind-set. Also, he wants to protect Sasuke, and potentially the defenceless Uchiha women and pre-Academy age children too but Sasuke is his priority, and he sees this as a way to protect him and help Sansa. 

Also, my flag test is done and final assignments have been submitted! All that's left is my