Azure Moon Island. A cabin by the river.
Sasuke kept vigil by his brother's bedside.
Orochimaru had completed a thorough examination of Itachi's condition.
"How is he?" Sasuke asked.
"My special medicine has stabilized him, for now," Orochimaru replied. "But for a true cure, he needs the elixir personally prepared by the White Snake Sage of Ryūchi Cave."
In his past life, Sasuke, as one of the foremost figures in the shinobi world, was no stranger to dealings with the sages. His summon, the Blue Snake, was one of the local powers within Ryūchi Cave. So he knew of the legendary "Elixir." It was said to cure any mortal ailment, not just eradicating the disease but fundamentally improving one's constitution to ward off future illness. Precious beyond measure, it took a century to brew just one.
Sasuke's mind worked, and a slight frown appeared. "The White Snake Sage. I don't imagine she's the accommodating type."
"Naturally," Orochimaru agreed. "Even when Kimimaro was dying, I never considered asking for it."
Sasuke's gaze was calm and absolute. "I'll beg. I'll kneel. I'll work. I'll get that medicine from her. And if none of that works…" His voice hardened. "Then it will be resolved through force."
Orochimaru chuckled softly, shaking his head. "It shouldn't come to that. One simply needs the right offering. A direct request now would be pointless. Let me prepare the proper 'gift' first."
After three days of rest, Itachi could stand and walk.
That night, Orochimaru, Kabuto, and Karin all made themselves scarce.
By the lake under a pale blue moon, a campfire crackled. Wild game and fish, caught by Kabuto, roasted on a spit. Beside it sat the wine Orochimaru had brewed in his spare time.
The two brothers, who had walked divergent paths for so long, finally sat together again.
Itachi was quiet for a long moment. "I never thought we'd sit like this again. The last time was on the engawa in front of the house, looking at the moon. You wouldn't stop crying."
Sasuke searched his memory, blank. "I… don't remember that."
"It's no wonder." Itachi smiled faintly, lost in the past. "You were still in swaddling clothes."
Sasuke's eyes lowered slightly. "Right. From the moment I became aware, you were already the genius, wearing the clan's uniform, carrying your bow. Ready to meet everyone's expectations. I admired you. I chased you. Our 'normal' was just you guiding my training in the woods behind the mountain or the clan's practice grounds."
"You don't need to chase after me anymore…" Itachi mused, pouring wine into his cup.
Sasuke fussed. "Your health… is alcohol okay? And, if I recall correctly, you're still underage."
Itachi gently swirled the cup, watching the ripples dance. It was like watching the last sixteen years of his life swirl in that liquid.
"For sixteen years," he said, voice low, "I've strived to be the perfect shinobi. Following every rule, never straying, to uphold that name. Honestly… I'm tired of it. So, just for tonight, just for this reunion with my little brother… let me break one of the so-called Three Shinobi Prohibitions."
He raised the cup. Tipped it back. Drained it.
The initial burn hit his throat, then a surprising sweetness bloomed on his tongue. His eyes widened a fraction. "Sweet wine?"
He poured himself another, then took a roasted fish from the spit. Seeing his brother's high spirits, Sasuke held his tongue.
After several drinks, Itachi finally broached the real subject, casual as if discussing the weather.
"Sasuke. Tell me your story."
Sasuke looked up at the moon, as if searching its face for those he could no longer reach. "It's a long story. You might get bored."
Itachi pinched a bit of ash from the spent fire and dropped it into his wine. "If it's your story, I'll drink it all. No matter how bitter."
He drank again.
"I'm… not really good at this," Sasuke murmured. He poured his own cup. The sweet, sharp taste held the complex flavors of a lifetime. Feelings he'd locked away, memories long buried, surged to the surface. Vague edges grew sharp and clear. "I suppose it starts at the Valley of the End. They say every end is a beginning. But not the Valley from four months ago. The one… from forty years ago."
Itachi listened. He didn't know how many times he refilled his cup. Didn't know how many times his hand, holding the flask, stilled in mid-air. Didn't know how many flashes of clashing blades, rivers of blood, fierce passions, entangled hatred, soaring heroics, and wrenching regrets passed through the profound stillness of his eyes.
The wine ran dry. The story went on.
The fire died to embers. The tide in his heart still surged.
No matter how many times words caught in his throat, he never once interrupted Sasuke's telling.
The pale blue moonlight slowly yielded to the faint, gray light of dawn.
Sasuke finished. He told the story of his past life as if narrating the tale of a stranger. But Itachi knew. He knew.
Slowly, Itachi rose from the side of the dead fire. He faced the clear, still lake.
"Sasuke…" His voice was rough. "The burdens I once thought I carried… they're nothing. Nothing compared to the weight on your shoulders."
His fists, hidden in his sleeves, clenched. Released. Clenched tighter. His shoulders trembled.
"Even though you've seen that terrible future… I still want to say it. I'm so glad…"
Two lines of ethereal tears traced the familiar paths of his tear troughs.
"That you came back alive… I'm so, so glad."
Watching his brother's crying back, Sasuke heard Obito's deep, resonant words echo from years long gone.
'Because, Sasuke… to Itachi, your life was more important than the village's security.'
Looking at Itachi now… even that didn't seem to fully express it.
To Itachi, Sasuke's life was more important than the entire future of the shinobi world.
Sasuke's own hand tightened into a fist. Wasn't it the same for him?
This time. He would protect it. This world where Itachi lived.
High above, Orochimaru, Kabuto, and Karin watched the two brothers silhouetted against the rising sun.
Their joy for the brothers was genuine, but pragmatism was inevitable.
Kabuto pushed up his glasses. "Itachi. He'll stand with us, right?"
"That is certain," Orochimaru said, golden eyes glinting.
"And his eyes? What's your plan? Any Mangekyō is destined for blindness."
Orochimaru's smile was a thin, knowing curve. "There is a pair readily available, is there not?"
"A pair? Whose?"
"The eyes of Uchiha Shisui."
Kabuto jolted. "But… Itachi and Shisui aren't blood brothers! Their eyes can't merge into the Eternal Mangekyō!"
Orochimaru's smile widened. The words that followed were utterly chilling.
"Then… all we have to do is make them brothers, isn't it?"
~~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~~
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