Akatsuki Safehouse – Land of Rivers, Itachi Uchiha POV
The pain in his shoulder was a distant, unimportant thing. The true agony was in his mind, a shattered mirror reflecting a lifetime of lies. He sat in the dim light of a damp cave, back against cold stone, Kisame silently sharpening Samehada nearby. The physical wound from Indra's lightning-charged strike was sealed with a rough field dressing, but it throbbed in time with the memory of those damning words.
"How do you justify it? How do you live with the memory of cutting down a baby?"
He had no answer. Not anymore.
Weeks before the Summit of Iron, when Danzo was first confined and Konoha's internal purge began in a panicked, chaotic rush, he had taken a risk. Using a dormant sleeper agent—a low-level clerk in the Intelligence Division with a Genjutsu-implanted trigger—and using his crow, he had acquired a copy of the preliminary findings. The files were a horror story written in dry, bureaucratic language.
He learned of Danzo's decades-long campaign against the Uchiha, the manufactured dissent, the planted evidence. He read the confirmed reports of Danzo providing Kushina's location to Obito. He saw the meticulous documentation of the Senju "attrition." And he saw the cold, clinical assessment of his own role: "Asset 'Shisui's Friend' presented with engineered binary crisis. Elimination of clan deemed acceptable collateral to preserve village stability and secure Sharingan stock for ROOT."
He was not a protector making a terrible sacrifice. He was a finely-honed weapon, aimed by a monster at his own family. The "coup" was a fiction. The "civil war" was a Specter Danzo created. His father, Fugaku, had been desperate, trying to protect the clan from escalating, inexplicable persecution. Itachi had killed a man fighting for his family's survival, believing he was fighting a traitor.
And the children. The newborns. Fujian Uchiha, his own uncle, cut down at his police desk. The old woman who made him Dango when he was small. All of them. For nothing.
Itachi: (A whisper, to the empty air) "All for nothing."
Kisame: (Pausing his sharpening) "You've been quiet a long time, Itachi. The kid got under your skin."
Itachi: "He didn't 'get under my skin,' Kisame. He held up a mirror, and the reflection was… empty." He looked at his partner, his usual composure absent, leaving only a profound, weary desolation. "Everything I did. Every life I took. Every second of torment I inflicted on Sasuke. It was built on a foundation of lies orchestrated by the very man I thought I was protecting the village from."
Kisame grunted, not out of cruelty, but understanding. "So the great Uchiha Itachi, the perfect shinobi, was just another pawn. Hmph. The world's full of 'em. Difference is, most pawns don't have to kill their own to figure it out."
The blunt truth was a kindness from the shark-man. It acknowledged the tragedy without offering false comfort.
Itachi: "Indra… he is what Sasuke could have been. Should have been. Had our clan been welcomed, had Danzo not existed. He has the power, the intellect, the Sharingan. But he also has a home. A mother who lives. A village that values him. He used his power to build a shield. I used mine to wield a scalpel on my own flesh and blood."
He remembered the fight. The cold, controlled fury in Indra's eyes wasn't the hot, chaotic hatred of Sasuke. It was the rage of a protector whose sanctum had been violated, directed with surgical precision. And his power… spatial manipulation, time reversal. Itachi's Mangekyō abilities, born of Shisui's death and his own guilt, were tools of illusion and destruction. Indra's were tools of dominion and order. They were the evolution the Uchiha clan might have achieved, had they not been driven into a paranoid, isolated corner.
Kisame: "He's strong. Stronger than you, right now. And that red-haired girl is no slouch. Held me off, clever like an eel. They're a team. Not like us… a weapon and its handler. A real team."
Itachi closed his eyes. "My mission… my purpose… was to be the villain for Sasuke to defeat, to make him a hero strong enough to protect Konoha. But Konoha is the villain. Danzo was the cancer. And I was its immune system, attacking the healthy cells. Sasuke's hatred is now directed at a ghost of my making, for crimes I committed under false pretences."
He made a decision, the pain in his shoulder crystallizing his resolve.
Itachi: "The Akatsuki's goal is the Gedo Statue. Pain's dream. Obito's manipulation. I joined to keep an eye on them, to be a shield for the village from the outside. But the village… the real village, the people… they have a new shield now. In Kumo."
Kisame: "You thinking of changing sides, Itachi? Didn't take you for a traitor."
Itachi: (A hollow, bitter smile) "I have been a traitor since the night I lifted my sword against my clan. The question is, who did I betray? I thought it was my clan for the village. Now I see I betrayed my clan and the village for Danzo's psychosis." He looked at Kisame. "My priority remains Sasuke. But his path to power… killing me will not give him what he needs. Not anymore. He needs truth. And he needs a different kind of strength. Indra may be the key to both."
Kisame: "So we're going to babysit the baby Uchiha and his storm-cloud brother? Sounds boring. But…" He hefted Samehada. "If it means more fights like that last one, I'm in. That brat's chakra… it was dense. Tasty. Different."
Itachi: "We observe. We adapt. The Akatsuki will still pursue the Jinchuriki. Kumo is a hardened target. We will follow Pain's orders, but our focus shifts. Sasuke's development. And understanding the anomaly that is Indra Uzumaki-Uchiha."
He leaned his head back. The ghost of a baby's cry, a memory he had locked away with Tsukuyomi, seemed to echo in the cave. For the first time, he didn't try to suppress it. He let the guilt, now validated and magnified a thousandfold, wash over him. It was his penance. And perhaps, his new path. Not as Konoha's spy, or the clan-killer, or Sasuke's villain. But as a ghost seeking to mend the fractures he had made, starting with the truth he owed his brother.
Land of Waves – Beachfront, Kakashi Hatake POV
Tsunade-sama's reign had begun with the brutal, surgical amputation of Konoha's rotten limb. The air in the village was one of exhausted relief and simmering shame. As a Jonin sensei, his new Hokage had given him a direct, if unspoken, order: "Train the next generation. The right way. No more child soldiers forged in lies. Start with your own."
Thus, Team 7's "C-rank" mission: escort the bridge-builder Tazuna back to the Land of Waves. A simple, low-risk job to build cohesion. He should have known. In their world, simple never lasted.
The fight with Zabuza Momochi had been a brutal awakening for his students. For him, it was a frustrating reminder of his own limitations. Overusing the Sharingan against the Demon of the Hidden Mist's silent killing technique and water clones had drained him, leaving him kneeling in the sand, gasping, the world tinged with the sharp pain of ocular strain.
He saw Zabuza raise the massive Kubikiribōchō for the final strike. He saw Naruto's face, not fearful but blazing with a defiant, desperate anger that was so much like Minato-sensei's resolve. He saw Sasuke, moving with a cold efficiency that spoke of Uchiha talent and a personal rage Kakashi now understood all too well.
And then he felt it.
A chakra signature, faint but unmistakable, brushed against the edge of his senses from the tree line nearly a kilometre away. It was a complex, layered sensation—the crackling, creative potency of Uchiha lightning, but deeper, older, fused with the vast, warm ocean of Uzumaki vitality and something else… a chilling, authoritative order that made the very air feel still. It was the same signature he'd felt weeks ago at the Summit of Iron, standing beside the broken container that held Danzo.
Indra.
He was here. Watching.
In that critical moment, as Zabuza's blade descended and Naruto launched himself into harm's way with a reckless, brilliant substitution, Kakashi's mind raced. Was this an ambush? A second Akatsuki attack? But the chakra didn't feel hostile. It felt… observational. Analytical. Like a scientist watching an experiment, or a commander assessing a battlefield.
The shock of that recognition, coupled with Naruto's sudden bravery, gave him the second wind he needed. He pushed past the pain, his mind formulating the desperate plan with the water prison. The battle progressed, a chaotic, mist-shrouded struggle.
Later, in Tazuna's dilapidated house, as Sakura tended to his overtaxed eye and a furious Naruto argued about training, he felt the signature again. Closer. A deliberate pulse, like a knock. It was an invitation.
Waiting until his Genin were asleep (or in Sasuke's case, pretending to be), he slipped out. He moved through the misty night, following the subtle pull of that immense, controlled chakra. Two kilometres inland, in a small clearing, they waited.
Indra Uzumaki-Uchiha stood calmly, his Kumo attire dark against the gloom. Beside him, the red-haired kunoichi from the Summit, Rias Uzumaki, leaned against a tree, looking more relaxed but no less alert. They made no aggressive moves.
Kakashi: (Stopping at the edge of the clearing) "I suppose a simple escort mission was too much to ask for. To what do we owe the pleasure, Commander Indra?"
Indra: "Hatake. No titles tonight. We're off-duty. Or rather, on a different duty." His Sharingan wasn't active, but his gaze was piercing. "I felt the fight. Zabuza Momochi and Haku. You're training your Genin in a warzone."
Kakashi: "It seems the world doesn't offer safe training grounds anymore. Why watch?"
Rias: "We were in the neighbourhood. Our mission is nearby. And let's just say… family interests us." She nodded towards the direction of Tazuna's house. "The blond one. He's got Kushina's fire."
Kakashi stiffened. "What do you know of Kushina?"
Indra: "My mother, Delia Uchiha, was a medic. She corresponded with Kushina Uzumaki for a time, before the Nine-Tails attack. They were distant cousins through Uzushio's tangled lines. My mother spoke of her often—a whirlwind of passion and kindness." He paused. "Rias's mother, Venelana, is from a direct branch, but the blood calls to blood. We know of Naruto. And we know what was done to him. And to his parents."
The words were not accusatory towards Kakashi, but they carried the weight of Konoha's collective sin.
Kakashi: "He knows now. About his parents. About… a lot of things."
Indra: "Good. Lies are poor foundations." He studied Kakashi. "Your father. Sakumo Hatake. The White Fang. I read Danzo's files. His destruction was a political assassination. He was a man of principle in a system designed for pliable tools. You carry that legacy. And you carry Obito's eye."
The mention of his father and Obito in the same breath, from this stranger who felt like both kin and enemy, was a direct hit. Kakashi's visible eye narrowed.
Kakashi: "Is there a point to this history lesson?"
Indra: "The point is, we are both heirs to legacies broken by the same man. Your father, my father, my clan, Naruto's parents, the Uzumaki homeland—all casualties of Danzo's and, by extension, Konoha's old sickness." He stepped forward slightly. "I am not your enemy, Kakashi Hatake. Not unless you force me to be. My war is with the shadows that still cling to your village, and with the larger threats gathering. Obito among them."
Kakashi: "Obito." The name was ash in his mouth. "What intelligence do you have?"
Indra: "He is the man behind the mask. He survived. He is allied with a creature called Zetsu and follows the legacy of Madara Uchiha. His goal is a global genjutsu called the Infinite Tsukuyomi. He sees himself as a savior. He is, in reality, a broken child wielded by ancient hatreds. He was Danzo's patsy for the Nine-Tails attack. And he tried to kidnap my mother."
The confirmation, delivered so calmly, was still a blow. The hopeful, late, idealistic boy was truly gone, replaced by this monstrous architect of so much pain.
Kakashi: "Why tell me this?"
Indra: "Because you hunt him. Because you loved the boy he was. And because when the time comes to face the monster he is, you will need to understand both. I am sharing intelligence because Obito is a threat to the entire world, not just Konoha. My village intends to survive what's coming. A stable, if weakened, Konoha is preferable to a vacuum he could exploit."
The logic was cold, strategic, but honest.
Rias: "There's something else." She held up two sealed scrolls. "For the boys."
Kakashi took them warily. The first was marked with a swirling Uzumaki spiral. The second bore a simple, elegant lightning bolt.
Indra: "The Uzumaki scroll is for Naruto. It contains foundational to advanced sealing theory and exercises. Not the forbidden, dangerous stuff. The real art. The mathematics of chakra binding, spatial notation, harmonic resonance in barriers. It is written in a cipher that uses Uzumaki chakra rhythms as a key. A non-Uzumaki would see only elegant nonsense. He should be able to read it. It's his birthright, stolen from him."
Kakashi: "And the other?"
Indra: "For Sasuke. My cousin." The word was spoken with a deliberate weight. "It contains a Lightning Release ninjutsu I developed. I call it Volt Tackle. It is not the Chidori. It does not rely on the Sharingan's perception or create a tunnel-vision weakness. It is a full-body lightning charge that enhances speed, strength, and defines simultaneously, allowing for devastating close-quarters combos. It is difficult, requiring exquisite chakra control. It is a technique for a warrior, not an assassin. He will appreciate the difference."
Kakashi was silent, holding the two scrolls. Gifts. From the son of a man Konoha had killed to the sons of the village that had failed them.
Indra: "I will be coming to Konoha. For the next Chunin Exams, if they are held."
Kakashi: "Coming? As what? A participant? That's absurd."
A faint, humourless smile touched Indra's lips. "As an observer. And as a son. I will be there to collect my father's remains and his personal effects from the Uchiha compound. Fugaku Uchiha, as the clan head at the time, held them in trust. I have formally requested this through diplomatic channels. I will also be visiting my father's grave. I expect no trouble. My visit will be under the full protection of the Land of Lightning and the Raikage. It is a… diplomatic pilgrimage."
The statement was a threat wrapped in protocol. It said: I am coming to your village, to the heart of your shame, and you will not stop me.
Kakashi: "I see. The Hokage will be informed."
Indra: "Tell Tsunade-sama I look forward to meeting her. My mother sends her regards—she remembers Senju Mito's teachings with respect." He turned to leave, then paused. "One more thing, Kakashi. Your Genin… they have potential. But potential is fragile. Don't let the ghosts of our fathers break them before they can fly."
With that, he and Rias melted into the shadows, their chakra signatures receding until they were gone.
Kakashi stood alone in the clearing for a long time, the two scrolls heavy in his hands.
Tazuna's House – The Next Morning
He gave the scrolls to the boys after a basic breakfast. Naruto's was a thick, heavy cylinder of aged parchment. Sasuke's was sleeker, bound with a conductive wire.
Naruto: (Turning the Uzumaki scroll over in his hands) "What is it?"
Kakashi: "A gift. From Kumo. From… an Uzumaki relative. It's said to contain sealing arts."
Naruto's eyes widened. He broke the seal and unfurled the first few inches. Complex, spiralling diagrams and notations in a fluid, alien script greeted them. Kakashi, peering over his shoulder, felt a headache coming on. The script seemed to shift, the lines connecting in ways that defied Euclidean geometry. It was like looking at a higher-dimensional puzzle.
Sakura: "I can't make sense of any of it! It's just… squiggles!"
Sasuke: (Sneering slightly at his own scroll) "Probably a trick."
But Naruto was staring, his blue eyes focused. A faint, warm, red chakra seemed to shimmer just under his skin for a second.
Naruto: "Huh. It's… weird. But this part here…" He pointed a finger at a particularly dense knot of symbols. "…it's talking about how to make chakra stick to itself in layers, like… like folding paper to make it stronger! And this bit is about using sound waves to find weak spots in a barrier!"
Kakashi and Sakura stared. Sasuke's sneer vanished, replaced by sharp attention.
Kakashi: "You… you can read it?"
Naruto: "Well, duh! It's not that hard! It's like… the pictures talk if you look at them right! See, this swirl means 'contain,' and this jagged line means 'energy,' and when you put them together like this, it means 'make a bubble!'"
It was instinctual. Primal. The Uzumaki bloodline, awakening to its ancestral language. Kakashi felt a chill that was part awe, part dread. This was the heritage that had been suppressed, the genius that had built Uzushio. And it was alive in this loud, untrained boy.
Sasuke: (His voice tight) "And mine?"
He opened his scroll. The contents were far more straightforward: diagrams of chakra pathways, instructions for moulding lightning in a specific, full-body pattern, training regimens. At the top, in neat script: "For Sasuke Uchiha. A technique of storm and strength, not shadow and stealth. Your father was a man of duty. Honor his memory by being more than a weapon. – Indra."
Sasuke's hands tightened on the parchment. The reference to his father, from this unknown cousin who had somehow escaped the massacre and now wielded such power… it was a confusing torrent of emotions—resentment, curiosity, a faint, shameful spark of hope.
Kakashi: "It seems you both have new homework. Naruto, start from the absolute beginning. Do not try to actually perform anything in that scroll without me present. Sasuke, the Volt Tackle is A-rank difficulty. We'll incorporate it into your training."
As the boys pored over their gifts, Kakashi walked to the window, looking out over the mist-shrouded sea. Indra Uzumaki-Uchiha was a storm on the horizon, a force of nature reshaping the political landscape. He had given Naruto a key to his soul and Sasuke a tool for a new path. He had offered Kakashi intelligence on Obito and a grim sort of understanding.
The world was changing. The old sins were exposed. And from the ashes of Uzushio and the Uchiha compound, new powers were rising, demanding acknowledgment, carrying both the promise of a stronger future and the threat of a final, devastating reckoning.
[System Notification: Template Update: Ashina Uzumaki – 80% Completed. Reason: Active perpetuation and teaching of Uzumaki core arts (sealing) to a mainline heir. Victor Von Doom – 43% Completed. Reason: Successful diplomatic-territorial claim (father's remains), strategic intelligence sharing, and seeding influence in future generation (Sasuke, Naruto).]
End of chapter – 19.