Chapter 8: A test of loyalty

A/N: Trigger warning for this chapter: Gore, character death, implied pedophilia

If you are triggered by any of those things, read at your own risk. 

----------------------------------

Come, dear child, come and let me tell you about what we hold most dear. Life is scarce in the desert, and we must help our own to survive. It's not the destiny of the person that matters, but the fate of the community, for without each other we will perish, blown in the wind by the desolate winds. Protect those you have near, and in turn, they will protect you. Provide for them, and they shall too provide for you. Only then will we thrive. 

-Teachings of a deep desert village Elder-

-A test of loyalty-

-Itachi-

Time stopped for Itachi. His eyes widened, pupils contracting as a wave of cold sweat washed over his body. His legs moved, pushing him forward even as he struggled to come to terms with what he saw.

Izumi was lying face down on the stream's bank, clothes soaked, hair fanning in the shallow water like a chocolate cascade. Itachi shouted, yet he wasn't sure what. His hands gripped her narrow shoulders, desperately pulling her out of the water.

Cold, she was too cold.

Itachi's muscles trembled with restraint as the water soaking her long hair dripped on his clothes. All sound stopped, his ears roaring with the erratic beating of his heart and shallow breaths. Itachi pulled her closer, desperately holding her body and hoping that some of his warmth would transfer into her rigid, cold muscles.

Come on, wake up, wake up! 

His hand beat rhythmically on her back, hoping that she would spit the water she undoubtedly swallowed.

There was no reaction.

"Itachi…"

He jumped, startled by the gentle voice above him. A hand landed softly on his shoulder, making him tense.

He gripped Izimi's still form tighter.

"Itachi," said Shisui once more, gently squeezing his shoulder.

Itachi looked at him with desperation, silently begging his cousin and friend to say she was fine, to tell him the medics were on their way and that Izumi would be fine. But something deep inside him knew it would be a lie. Her body was cold, her arms and legs stiff, her skin ashen as stringy pieces of water-soaked hair hid her face. Shisui kneeled next to him, slowly reaching toward Izumi's stiff form.

Kaito's steps resonated behind them. "She's dead." 

His calm voice was like a thunder strike in Itachi's ears. Sizzling anger zapped through his system, making his jaw clench and chakra flare menacingly.

She's dead. Repeated Itachi. Dead, dead, deaddeaddead… the words jumbled in his mind, losing all meaning, revealing the truth of the situation. Dejection crashed upon him in a cold wave. The finality of that thought washed the rage away, leaving him empty. His arms relaxed, finally allowing Shisui to hold Izumi's cold body. Long brown hair trailed over his legs, and suddenly he felt like he wanted to see her face. She had always smiled, every time he saw her. She smiled even when others teased her or when she failed in class.

As Itachi's hand reached to brush the hair from her face, he marveled at how little he knew of Izumi, how short time he'd spent with her, and yet how vividly he remembered those times. He'd saved her from the wreckage of her house when the Demon Fox attacked and held her hand when she learned of her father's death. She had cried her heart out, and her eyes bled red with the power of the Sharingan. Itachi had seen her struggle in the academy and then smiled proudly as she succeeded.

Warm fingers brushed away the long, thick strands. He wanted to see her face… one last time.

The locks of hair parted to reveal the true horror of what happened. Instead of large, beautiful eyes, two gaping holes stared at them, empty and unseeing. Her eyes had been gouged out with surgical precision, leaving sunken eyeholes behind. Izumi's once pretty face was streaked with scratches, her usually smiling lips parted in a horrifying scream.

Itachi stared in shock, his jaw clenched tightly. He couldn't breathe, his throat muscles constricting at the image before him, nerves firing signals in his brain that he couldn't possibly obey. Anger was turning into blind rage and hatred for whoever did this to her.

How could this happen?

How could something like this happen to her in Konoha, on her way to the academy?

What — what was Konoha doing?

He gasped once more, the air finally entering his lungs as thoughts fired into his mind.

How… how could Konoha let this happen?

She was a child, a child of the village and they didn't protect her!

Why, whywhy?

"Don't," said Shisui.

Itachi looked at him, Sharingan blazing. There was a cold, certainty in Shisui's eyes that spoke of experience. That single word, that command embodied a hundred feelings. Don't give in to your anger — his voice seemed to say. Don't let hatred cloud your judgment — his eyes begged.

But how could he just walk away? How could he stand and move along as if nothing was amiss? How could he, when there she was, her life and eyes brutally stolen from her right under Konoha's nose?

Shisui's stare pierced through Itachi as he covered Izumi's face with a cloth. Endure, his eyes said. Itachi bit his tongue until blood pooled in his mouth, all to quell the cacophony of anger inside him. The coppery tang was bitter with his disappointment, tainted by his inability to act. Like a dog on a leash, he felt powerless to lash out.

A culprit. There had to be someone who was to blame for this. And he… he had to find them. This was the least Itachi could do for her.

Suddenly, his thoughts quieted as his mind fixated on this one goal. He stood, his eyes averted from Izumi's prone form, his movements stiff. Chakra raced through his system in a barely leashed torrent, making his kekkei genkai shine with power.

"Kaito-san," he said in a toneless voice. "Can you find the culprit?"

Kaito's electric blue eyes narrowed. "No. Whoever did this was careful enough to cover their tracks. This… this needs to be reported to the Hokage."

A muscle ticked in Itachi's jaw, fingers twitching as he resisted the urge to ball his fists. He could feel the noose of injustice tightening around his throat like barbed wire.

Yet it was Shisui that spoke, his voice eerily calm. "Every second we waste with formalities will be used by the one who did this to escape."

"And charging in without knowing what we're dealing with is a genin mistake," countered Kaito. "This is personal, I understand, but rushing into things won't help anyone. It's a delicate situation. First, we speak to the Hokage."

This time Itachi's fists did clench. "What of Izumi? We have to take her to her mother; she has the right to know."

Kaito's voice cut through them. "No. Not yet."

Shisui carefully laid Izumi's body on the floor and stood to his full height. "I understand that the village is worried about the consequence this death will have on the connection between the Uchiha and them, but —"

"It's not my place or mission to speculate why Hokage-sama chose to make things such." Kaito regarded them through unblinking eyes. "Nor is it yours, Shisui-san. You both are shinobi of Konoha, a tool in your leader's hands. And what your Hokage tells you to do is law — no, it's above the law. So we will take young Izumi's body and bring it to be examined so we can find the fucker that did this to her. We will do that and nothing more until Hokage-sama orders otherwise. Understood?"

Itachi and Shisui nodded, each with their own degree of restraint.

-O-

In a dark room located in one of the many underground facilities that Konoha possessed, two men shared a cup of tea. The room was spacious and long, making it look almost like a corridor with a large wooden table at its end. The walls were filled with tall cabinets and wide tables, each available space groaning under the weight of scrolls, diagrams, and various jars of substances. There were microscopes on some, and detailed drawings on others. A skeleton, whether artificial or otherwise, leaned next to a cabinet, surrounded by X-rays of bones and numerous pieces of paper pinned to a board. Another side of the room had diagrams of various organs, including a detailed drawing of the human eye and the multiple effects of specific chakra stimuli would have on it.

There was organized chaos in the room as each piece seemed to have a predestined place, yet no one but the owner would know which it was. In contrast to the mess on the work tables, one wooden table at the end of the room was bare. A traditional tea set sat upon it, perfectly centered between the two occupants. And to the side, stood a jar.

"I thought we had an understanding, Orochimaru."

Orochimaru reached for his teacup, sipping thoughtfully. His poison-yellow eyes closed in delight as the hot liquid traveled past his lips. He took his time, enjoying the feeling of knowing the other man's patience was wearing thin. There was nothing Shimura Danzo hated more than waiting for an answer. After counting ten seconds in his head, Orochimaru slowly set the cup down and looked his once mentor and commander in the eye.

"As you know, there is an associated risk when it comes to research. Bold moves must be made for the advancement of science," Orochimaru said.

Orochimaru watched Danzo regard him with barely restrained annoyance. Age and the war hadn't been kind to the old councilor. The Second War had taken his right eye, while the Third War had cost him his right arm. Now his borrowed eye surely burned with accumulated chakra and the limb that Orochimaru had fashioned for him was bound to start itching and erupting into boils if left unattended.

"You acted against orders," said Danzo sternly.

Orochimaru's eyes narrowed, but the impudent smile he sported remained on his lips. "Dealing with rules is simply not my style. I see something I want, and I take it."

"As with that young student of yours?"

The smile grew wider as an abnormally long tongue caressed his lips. "Ah, dear Anko-chan. That was a thoroughly enjoyable experiment… alas, it failed." He sighed theatrically, his hand lifting to support his chin as thoughts of Anko's small body and eager nature shifted through his head.

Danzo lifted his teacup and took small sips before carefully setting it back on the table. "I don't care what you do in your free time, but such practices are forbidden in the village, especially with one's student, not to mention a minor. And you even had the gall to mark the girl!" Danzo's lone eye drifted to the ostentatious jar on the table. "And now this?"

"Anko was declared dead months ago, plus she won't remember a thing. There's nothing to worry about. By the way, where are you keeping her? I'd just love to see my cute little student again," said Orochimaru as he casually took another sip of tea. "As for this," his eyes slid to the jar, admiring the crimson shade of the Sharingan. "I assure you it was for scientific purposes. There are no traces of other activities on the girl. No one will know it was me." 

Danzo's right hand suddenly slammed the table, his voice rising to a menacing tone. "Mitarashi Anko won't remember anything because I took care of it! If it weren't for me you would have been imprisoned or executed by now. And now this, when I have specifically instructed you to be more careful! Why did you pick this girl when there were a hundred other Uchihas out on missions that could easily be declared MIA?"

Orochimaru paused, his eyes widening almost innocently at Danzo's temper. It was rare for the ROOT leader to show his volatile true self. Control and discipline were vital components of who he was, up to the point where no one really knew the man's real self anymore.

I must be in trouble, he thought, and that brought the smile back on his lips. He leaned back in his chair until the front legs left the ground, balancing with the tip of his toe, a smile stretching his lips.

"Hmm… what can I say? I really liked the look in her eyes."

"You are becoming a liability," said Danzo.

"I thought you would praise my proactive attitude." Orochimaru lifted the jar, his long pale fingers caressing the glass. "The girl's Sharingan was strong; you could easily add it to your collection."

Danzo clicked his tongue in annoyance. "It's irrelevant. The Uchiha were ready to rebel against the village the last time this happened. Killing a child of theirs with an active Sharingan will rekindle the flame once more; that cannot happen."

Orochimaru set the jar down and gave Danzo a long look.

"Since when do you care about the Uchiha?" The smile was gone from Orochimaru's lips. Something was different, he could sense it. He'd pulled these types of shenanigans many times before, always under the guise of research and with something to offer from his experiments. It had been enough to keep Danzo satisfied and willing to cover the tracks he was too disinterested to care for. Yet now, something was different. Danzo's following words cemented his guess.

"This is why you are a liability, Orochimaru. You are short-sighted with anything that is not an experiment. I live to serve Konoha and its prosperity. Having the Uchiha start a civil war would destabilize the village and make us prime targets for foreign takeover. This cannot be allowed to happen."

"Orochamaru's eyes narrowed at the threat he detected in those words. "Be careful, Danzo. We wouldn't want a misunderstanding," he warned then shrugged. "Besides, the deed is done. Simply give them a scapegoat like last time."

Danzo met his smile with a stony expression. "Not this time." Orochimaru's eyes widened at the words. "This time I need to pull the problem out from the root."

  "You wouldn't dare, Danzo."

Orochimaru never would have thought that betrayal would ever take him by surprise. Still, could this be one of the many ploys the old man played to try and keep him in check? His tone turned shocked, although his eyes were narrowed.

"After everything, I've done for you?"

"It is done," Danzo said.

In the end, it was just business.

With a snap of Danzo's fingers, a masked woman materialized from the shadows and released the jutsu that concealed over twenty Root agents. They surrounded the Sannin in a heartbeat, their weapons at the ready. Danzo calmly stood from his chair, brushing off inexistent dust particles from his coat.

Orochimaru experimentally twitched his fingers and realized to his utter annoyance that the Nara bitch caught him in her jutsu.

"You bastard," Orochimaru hissed through clenched teeth.

He tried to take a step toward Danzo, but the collective clink of weapons made him pause. Even he couldn't take all of them at once. At least not easily. His eyes narrowed, thoughts churning in his head.

That bastard, he will pay! The thought gave him the balance he needed, turning the sting of betrayal into the caress of opportunity.

"You'll regret this, Danzo," he said to the retreating figure. There was no longer anger in his voice. It was smooth once more, rich with the knowledge of a secret. "You'll soon see just how much you need me."

"I doubt that. A dispatch unit is probably on the way. Your moments are numbered, Orochimaru."

As soon as the Root leader stepped out, two more shadow users pinned Orochimaru in place with their jutsu.