The scent-tracking insect wove through the curtain of rain, darting down to circle the base of the towering structure. It hovered. Sasuke was here.
Itachi Uchiha stood motionless in the downpour.
Rain plastered his hair to his scalp, soaked through his clothes until they clung heavy and cold. He lifted his gaze, tracking upwards along the dark stone to the tower's peak.
There, the hem of an Akatsuki robe snapped in the wind. Hanataki.
Beside him, Hidan stood under a black umbrella. Tat-tat-tat. Raindrops struck the taut fabric, a sharp, rhythmic counterpoint to the storm's roar.
Their eyes met—Itachi's Sharingan red and unwavering, Hanataki's gaze hidden behind a mask.
Then, Hanataki moved. He stepped off the edge.
He dropped from the tower's height, cloak billowing, and landed with a heavy splash in the mud a dozen paces from Itachi. Before Hidan could process it—he blinked at his now-useless umbrella, shrugged, and tossed it aside—he followed, leaping down to land beside his companion.
The mask was back in place. Itachi could read nothing from the man's posture.
"Where is my brother?"
The words left Itachi's lips, flat and cold. But inside, his heart lodged itself in his throat. He knew Sasuke was bait. The logical part of his brain screamed it. Yet the fear—the primal, twisting fear—wouldn't listen. What if they'd already…?
Hanataki didn't answer. He didn't need to.
Kakuzu emerged from the shadows beside the tower, a slumped form thrown over his shoulder. Sasuke. He'd resisted, of course, so Kakuzu had knocked him unconscious.
Itachi's control fractured. For a single, betraying instant, his breath hitched. His shoulders tightened. He saw the steady rise and fall of Sasuke's chest, the faint mist of breath in the cold air, and a wave of relief so violent it left him weak. Alive. He's alive.
He forced the tension from his body. Forced his voice level. "What do you want?"
His mind raced. Sasuke was unharmed. A hostage. That changed the calculus. If their target was Tsukimi-sensei… they wouldn't be this calm. This felt… personal. Aimed at him.
"How far would you go for him, I wonder?" Hanataki's voice was a soft, venomous purr. "Itachi Uchiha."
The confirmation hit like a physical blow. The vague, crawling dread he'd felt solidified into cold, hard certainty.
"What is it you want me to do?" Itachi asked, his tone all icy reason. He knew the power gap. Knew facing the Masked Man head-on was suicide—and would doom Sasuke too. He wasn't afraid to die. But dying here, now, for nothing? That was an idiot's choice. Save Sasuke first. Everything else came after.
"It's simple." Hanataki spread his hands. "Join us."
Itachi stared. For a moment, the rain, the cold, the tower—it all blurred. Join… them? The Akatsuki? The shock was so profound his pupils contracted sharply before he wrestled his expression back to neutral. His mind spun. If recruitment was the goal… using Sasuke as leverage made a twisted sense. But why? Why him? Out of all the shinobi in Konoha…
"Aren't you the devoted older brother?" Hanataki tilted his head, a predator playing with its food. "Let's see which weighs more. Your little brother's life… or your precious loyalty to the Leaf."
A flicker of golden light sparked to life in Hanataki's palm. It was a tiny sun, held casually, but its meaning was clear. One motion. One burst. It would punch straight through Sasuke's frail body.
Itachi's jaw clenched so hard his teeth ached. His fists were balls of white-knuckled tension at his sides.
He could never watch Sasuke die. Not now. Not ever. The boy was twelve. His life was a barely-opened book. His dreams, his future… it couldn't end here in the mud, at the whims of monsters.
But…
To betray Konoha…
The first image that flashed behind his eyes wasn't of the Hokage Monument or the village gates. It was a memory, sharp and sweet and agonizing. Sitting beside Tsukimi-sensei as a child, listening to stories of the village's founding. The earnest promise they'd made, bathed in the light of a setting sun—to witness Konoha's change, the world's change. To walk towards the light, together. Tsukimi-sensei was his compass. His anchor. The one who gave his aimless genius a purpose, a path that wasn't shrouded in the clan's shadows.
Was he to spit on that now? To turn his back on that light?
A sour, aching pain bloomed in his chest, so intense it stole his breath. He couldn't abandon Sasuke. But the thought of becoming a traitor… it felt like tearing out a part of his own soul. He had lived in the light. Seen darkness, yes, but always from the outside, as something to fight. Now, he was being asked to step into it. To let it swallow him whole. To become an enemy of the peace he cherished. An enemy of Konoha. Of every comrade he'd fought beside. Of his teacher.
"Don't keep us waiting, Itachi Uchiha." Hanataki's voice cut through his internal war. "We have time. Your brother… does he?"
The threat hung in the air, ugly and final. In Itachi's mind's eye, Sasuke's sleeping face—so young, so trusting—swam into focus.
"Let him go."
The words were out. A decision, forged in fire and acid.
A plan, desperate and fragile, began to form. Join them. Play their game. But from the inside… he could gather information. He could leak it. He could still work for their dream, even from the heart of darkness. The path ahead would be paved with hatred, misunderstanding, the curses of those he once protected. He would be reviled. A monster.
So be it.
Someone had to walk this road. Someone had to carry the weight.
Itachi closed his eyes. When he opened them, the conflict was gone. Drowned. Only a deep, still pool of resolve remained.
Hanataki gave a slight nod to Kakuzu.
"I'll return the brat to Konoha. Unharmed," Kakuzu grunted. Without another word, he hefted Sasuke and vanished into the sheets of rain, his form disappearing after a few bounding leaps.
Itachi didn't doubt it. As long as he was a member of the Akatsuki, Sasuke was his collateral. He would be kept safe.
"Welcome to the Akatsuki, Itachi Uchiha." Hanataki stepped closer, hand extended, a smile evident even behind the mask.
Itachi ignored the offered hand. His silence was his answer.
Hanataki chuckled, unoffended. "Then prove it. Show us your resolve to leave the Leaf behind."
Hidan, catching on, grinned and pulled a kunai from his belt, offering it hilt-first to Itachi.
Slowly, Itachi reached up. His fingers found the smooth, cool metal of his forehead protector. He unpinned it. He held it in his palm, tracing the familiar spiral of the Konoha symbol with his thumb. It was worn, but lovingly maintained, the metal polished to a soft sheen even now.
He gripped the kunai. The tendons in his hand stood out like cables. A raindrop hit the back of his hand and shattered.
CRACK!
The sound was obscenely loud in the rain-muffled world.
Itachi shut his eyes. Didn't let himself think. Just drove the kunai point across the metal with all his strength.
A single, brutal line scored through the Leaf symbol. The mark of a missing-nin. A traitor.
"From today," Hanataki said, his voice holding a note of final satisfaction, "you are one of us."
The meeting room in the tower was dim, lit by a few flickering lanterns. The figure known as Deva Path stood at its center, his eerie, lavender Rinnegan fixing instantly on Itachi as he entered. Konan and Kisame stood flanking their leader like statues.
Kisame's shark-like grin widened. "Itachi Uchiha. Student of the Hokage herself. Quite the catch."
Itachi's gaze swept past him, a quick, analytical pass over the room. His mind, already compartmentalizing his grief, began cataloging. Threats. Exits. Dynamics.
Deva Path spoke then, his voice echoing with detached authority. He laid out the Akatsuki's goals. Not just collecting tailed beasts for war, but the true, staggering scale of it: the revival of the Ten-Tails. The conquest of the entire shinobi world through absolute, crushing power. He held nothing back. It was a display of utter confidence—or a terrifying test.
Itachi listened, the cold in his gut deepening into an abyss. The scale of it… it was monstrous.
When Deva Path finished, he simply vanished. Konan stepped forward, holding out the black cloak with red clouds and a ring—the uniform of their organization.
Itachi took them, the fabric heavy in his hands.
A hand clapped his shoulder. Hanataki.
"Itachi."
He schooled his features, turning. For a fleeting second, looking at the masked man up close, a strange sense of familiarity prickled at the edge of his consciousness. He pushed it aside.
"You know our secrets now," Hanataki said, his tone conversational, almost friendly. "And you know that if I wished to reach your brother… not even the Fifth Hokage could stop me for long. Should our secrets find their way to the wrong ears… well, I'd need an outlet for my displeasure. Your brother would do nicely."
The smile was back in his voice. It chilled Itachi's blood more effectively than the rain ever had.
His naive plan of playing double agent evaporated. Of course. They hadn't been careless. Sasuke wasn't just leverage to get him in; he was the chain that would keep him obedient.
"Ah, one more thing," Hanataki added, as if remembering a minor errand. "To cement your new allegiance… we have a small task. A Konoha mission, conveniently enough. Consider it yours."
Itachi's hand tightened around the cloak in his grip.
"Kisame. You're with Itachi."
Kisame nodded, hefting Samehada onto his shoulder. He sauntered over, giving Itachi an appraising look that held a hint of pity. That Konoha mission… not so simple. Poor bastard.
"Shall we, Itachi-san?" Kisame asked, oddly polite.
Itachi gave him a final, inscrutable glance, then turned and followed the swordsman out into the rain-slicked streets of Amegakure.
Hanataki watched them go, a quiet sigh escaping him. Such a tragic fate.
"Mission details," Itachi stated flatly as they walked. The rain here was constant, a gray shroud over everything.
Kisame scratched his cheek with a clawed finger. "Assassination. Simple."
Itachi's heart, which had begun to settle, clenched again. "Target?"
"The Akatsuki needs funds," Kisame said with a shrug, watching Itachi from the corner of his eye. "We take contracts. This one paid well. A big name on the bounty lists."
He paused, letting the tension build for a beat.
"Some old fossil on Konoha's council. Name's Danzō Shimura."
The tightness in Itachi's chest unwound, replaced by a hollow numbness. Not someone he knew well. Not a friend. But a mission in Konoha… they would be seen. His status as a traitor would be sealed, broadcast to the entire village. The pain of it was a sharp, precise stab, right where his heart used to be.
Meanwhile, at the gates of Konoha, a confused chuunin on duty nearly jumped out of his skin. A body lay slumped in the mud just outside the entrance. On closer inspection—it was breathing. It was Sasuke Uchiha.
The alert went up. Sasuke was rushed to the hospital, checked, and declared physically fine aside from exhaustion.
In the sterile white room, Tsukimi Heshu stood looking down at the sleeping boy. Nara Sōsai and a few other advisors flanked her, their faces grim.
Only Sasuke had returned. The unspoken conclusion hung in the air, thick and suffocating.
"Lord Hokage…" Sōsai ventured softly, watching her profile for any crack.
Her prized student. Her chosen successor. If Itachi was gone… the loss would be catastrophic.
"I'm fine."
Her voice was calm. Too calm. Preternaturally steady. It was this very lack of reaction that worried Sōsai more than any outburst would have.
The news spread. Naruto, Sakura, the rest of their year—they descended on the hospital in a noisy, worried herd.
"SASUKE!" Naruto's bellow echoed down the corridor before a stern medic-nin shushed him with a glare.
Inside the room, they crowded around the bed just as Sasuke's eyes fluttered open.
"Lord Hokage!" they chorused, spotting Tsukimi. She offered them a gentle, tired smile and gestured for Sōsai to follow her out, leaving the genin to their reunion.
Naruto watched her go, his momentary joy at seeing Sasuke dampened. Something was off. Heshu-nee… she didn't seem happy at all.
"Sasuke! You're okay!" Naruto promptly forgot his concern, shoving past Sakura to grab Sasuke's hand with tear-filled eyes.
Sasuke, still groggy, felt a fresh wave of dizziness. "…Dobe. Let go."
Outside, the mood was heavy.
"Lord Hokage," Sōsai tried again as they walked back towards the tower. "Perhaps… you should take the rest of the day."
Tsukimi paused. Inside, she perked up. A day off? But her face showed only serene dedication. "There is still much work to do."
Sōsai's heart sank further. She was refusing to rest? This was worse than he thought. He exchanged a grave look with the others.
A round-faced kunoichi with large, earnest eyes stepped forward. "Please, Lord Hokage! The paperwork is light today! We can handle it!"
"Yeah! Trust us!"
"Don't you believe in us?"
Tsukimi looked at their pleading faces and finally let a soft, defeated smile touch her lips. It looked like the smile of someone humoring their worried subordinates. "Alright, alright. You win."
Sōsai blinked. Wait. Why did it feel like they were doing her a favor? He shook his head, guilt rising. No. He was being cynical. Their Hokage had just suffered a devastating loss. He shouldn't judge.
Fueled by a mix of sympathy and determination, Sōsai led the administrative team back to the office, where they attacked the paperwork with ferocious zeal.
And Tsukimi Heshu, the grieving Hokage, found herself alone by the riverbank as the sun set, painted in gold and orange. A rare gift of free time. She watched the light dance on the water, her expression perfectly, tragically composed.
In the village, the news solidified into accepted truth. Itachi Uchiha was dead. A quiet mourning spread. The polite, powerful prodigy, the Hokage's disciple, the future of the clan… gone. The atmosphere in the Uchiha district was particularly somber. Fugaku, bearing the blow in stoic silence, had already instructed everyone: tell Sasuke his brother was away on a long-term mission.
Sasuke, still weak and processing his own ordeal, asked no further questions. He believed it.
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