36: The Weak
"Hm?" Shin blinked, then smiled. "What's up with Shisui? Something came up and he can't make it?"
"…" Itachi looked at Shin—at the casual, unbothered expression on his face—and his gaze steadied. He repeated himself.
"Shisui is dead."
"…"
"…"
Dead?
Dead…
Shin nodded without thinking. Then he froze. He stared blankly at Itachi, then looked down at his own hands. One of them still held a shuriken.
"You said Shisui is…" Shin raised his head. The words came out hollow.
"Dead," Itachi said.
"…"
Dead. What did that mean?
Was this a joke?
"Hey…" His voice trembled without permission. A strained smile surfaced on his face. "Itachi-san, don't joke around like that…"
"…" Itachi watched him in silence.
"It's not funny at all. I'll get angry."
"…"
"…The body is at the Uchiha compound. Do you want to see it?" Itachi's voice was flat. Empty.
Shin's body went rigid. Then cold—all the way through.
"How…" he whispered. "How could…"
......
"Interesting. Who taught you that shuriken form?"
…
"You're Shin Takami?"
…
"Top of the class, huh? Every year's top student gets talked about."
......
"Shisui Uchiha."
…
"What, never heard of me?"
…
"Heh. Once upon a time, I was pretty famous."
......
"Shisui…"
"Is something going to happen to the Uchiha?"
"Is it aimed at you?"
"You… won't get hurt, will you?"
"The hell are you going on about? Cursing me now?"
"…"
"Relax. I'm this strong—how could anything happen to me?"
"…It better not."
"I'm your teacher, remember? You haven't even learned everything I have to offer."
"…Then teach me."
"I will… next time."
......
What does it feel like—to suddenly hear that someone beside you has died?
Shin Takami, in this life, had believed he would go on living peacefully in the Hidden Leaf forever. No great joys. No great sorrows. He'd stopped meditating in the mornings long ago, letting the child's mind of this lifetime erode whatever lay beneath.
Playing the part of a kid—he'd grown comfortable with it. Thought it was fine.
But somewhere deep inside, he was still an adult. He wanted the truth. He wanted to know what had happened.
A living, breathing person—how could they just be gone?
"Last night he threw himself into the Naka River," Itachi said slowly. "The body is still at the Uchiha compound. If you want to see—"
"Threw himself in?"
"Hey—"
"You're saying Shisui drowned himself?" Shin cut him off. Something between a scoff and a laugh escaped his throat, as if he'd just heard the most absurd joke in existence.
"Shisui of the Body Flicker—drowned himself?"
"A shinobi famous across the world… drowned himself…"
"Do you believe that?"
His tone had turned accusatory. His expression twisted—something beyond his control.
"Isn't he one of your Uchiha? Don't you people pride yourselves on being the greatest clan in the Leaf?"
"The greatest clan…" Shin repeated the words. The image of the Uchiha flashed through his mind, and his lip curled.
"The so-called greatest clan—just let one of their own die like this? Threw himself in a river for no reason?"
"…"
"Or was it someone else? No—a person like him, how could he have enemies?"
"Answer me."
"Answer me, Sasuke's brother!" The honorifics were gone. Something unhinged flickered behind his eyes.
"And then what?" Itachi said.
And then…
"…" Shin stopped. Stared at him.
"Even if you knew the truth—then what?"
"…"
The truth…
If I knew the truth—then what?
A chill sank through him. His hands clenched. The shuriken in his palm bit through skin. Blood ran down and dripped onto the earth.
"Can you bring Shisui back?" Itachi glanced at the crimson spreading across Shin's hand. His voice didn't waver.
"…"
"Or—can you find this 'mastermind' you imagine exists?"
"…"
"And even if you found them—what could you do?"
Drip. Drip. Drip.
Blood ran steadily from Shin's palm, staining the wild grass below.
"Shisui of the Body Flicker—known across the entire shinobi world. If he had enemies, what kind of enemies would they be?"
"Could you face them with your shuriken skills that barely reach genin level?"
Itachi reached behind his back, into his tool pouch, and slowly drew out two shuriken. He held them between the fingers of his right hand. Shin watched, eyes dark and still.
Itachi's arm snapped forward. Both shuriken screamed through the air in tandem.
Cling.
Past the first tree, the two shuriken collided—a sharp, clean ring of metal. One ricocheted off at a near-perfect right angle, arcing behind the tree and embedding itself dead-center in a target on a second trunk.
"This is what Shisui promised to teach you three days ago," Itachi said, turning back to Shin. "A technique that even genin struggle to master. Can you do it?"
"…"
Shin stared at the shuriken lodged in the distant tree. He said nothing for a long time.
Then, slowly, he raised his bleeding hand—and the blood-slicked shuriken it held.
Whoosh.
His arm whipped forward. The shuriken tore from his fingers, spinning violently. Past the first tree its rotation tightened and the blade's trajectory bent—a near-right-angle arc through empty air, sailing past two trees before slamming into the trunk beside Itachi's shuriken.
Itachi's eyes shifted. That angle—with only one shuriken… Even he would struggle to replicate it. And this boy hadn't even graduated from the Academy.
Sasuke falls short, in the end…
Though for Sasuke's growth, that might not be a bad thing.
"A laughable promise," Shin muttered, head down, fists white-knuckled.
"…"
"Shisui needed a capable partner. If he'd had one—maybe he wouldn't be dead."
"…"
"But he didn't need an Academy student who hasn't even graduated. You're too weak. Pitifully so."
Shin stood there, head bowed, silent. Itachi's dark eyes bled slowly into crimson—the Sharingan spinning, spinning.
"If you want to know everything… find a way to get stronger."
The tomoe in his eyes turned. Shin's chakra network mapped itself clearly in his vision—every pathway, every junction. But in Shin's eyes, a particular force resisted him. Something he could not peer into.
Shisui's ocular power…
Then Shin looked up. His bloodshot eyes locked onto Itachi's, and the raw emotion in them made Itachi's brow draw tight.
What—?!
A sudden surge. Itachi felt his own eyes pull chakra involuntarily—a flood of it concentrating without his command. Shin went rigid in the same instant, his gaze going vacant. Empty.
What's happening?!
Pain lanced through Itachi's eyes. He pressed a hand to his face. Warmth. He pulled his hand back and saw blood on his fingers—streaming from both eyes.
He looked at Shin. The boy stood motionless, eyes blank, staring at nothing.
Tsukuyomi?!
Through his Sharingan, Itachi observed the chaotic turbulence of Shin's chakra. His own eyes—the field of vision, the chakra expenditure—had shifted drastically. This was the sensation of the Mangekyō.
But why would he be caught in a genjutsu?
The shock was immediate, electric.
Did I cast it on him…?
How is that possible?!
As Itachi struggled to make sense of it, Shin's right eye suddenly blazed—a four-pointed pinwheel pattern flaring to life for a single heartbeat before vanishing. In the next instant the boy returned to normal, his gaze refocusing, awareness flooding back.
Shin blinked, disoriented. Looked around. His eyes found Itachi and his expression sharpened.
"You used genjutsu on me?!" he said, brow furrowed.
"…" Itachi had no answer that made sense. Tell him the Tsukuyomi activated on its own—and then was broken by Shisui's ocular power inside him?
That was absurd.
Is my control over the Mangekyō still that unstable?
"What did you do?!" Shin stepped back, every muscle coiled.
"…Nothing. I wanted to learn something, so I used a genjutsu." Itachi lied smoothly. His expression remained calm.
Shin's face darkened.
What does he know? Shin didn't know what he might have said while unconscious. His greatest secret was that he was a reincarnator—and the fear of it leaking made his chest tight.
"What's wrong?" Itachi watched his expression and let out a short, cold laugh. "That's quite a face you're making."
"…" Shin said nothing. Stared at him with frost in his eyes.
"But only the weak wear expressions like that."
"…"
Someone's coming…
Itachi's gaze flickered almost imperceptibly. He looked once more at Shin—still glaring—and his form began to blur. To dissolve.
"Hate your own weakness. Your own helplessness. If hatred can make you stronger."
His body scattered into dozens of black crows. Their harsh, grating cries split the air—and then he was gone.
"…"
......
Shin waited until every trace of Itachi's presence had vanished. Then his body went slack. He stood there, head tilted down, staring at nothing.
Shisui…
"Hey there, hard at work as always—our top student."
Hm?
A voice from behind. Familiar words. Shin's eyes went wide.
He spun around. The figure before him seemed to overlap with the memory of a young Uchiha man in ANBU gear—
Shin's expression wavered. Went unfocused.
......
"Hey, top student—hard at work, huh."
…
"How about I teach you to use wire today?"
…
"You're not cute at all. You should learn a thing or two from Sasuke in your class."
…
"Heartless brat. You know how many people would kill to be my student?"
…
"Heh heh, any girls in your class got a crush on you? Back in my day, the line of girls chasing me was this long—hey, hey, what's that look for?!"
......
"Lunch time, Shin! You don't have to push yourself so hard!" Hana called from a distance, holding up a bento box and smiling. A long black case was strapped across her back.
"Shin?" No response. She noticed his dazed expression and called again, louder.
"…" He finally came back to himself. His gaze shifted from vacant to still as it settled on her.
"…It's you, Hana-nee," he said quietly.
"Shin…"
Hana studied him—something was off—and started walking over. Halfway there, her eyes caught his right hand. The blood.
Her face changed. She closed the distance quickly, set the bento on the ground, crouched beside him, and took his hand in both of hers.
"What happened?! Did you cut yourself training?" Her voice was sharp with worry. She held his hand carefully, grabbed the water canteen beside them, twisted the cap, and began rinsing the wound.
"You're way too careless—look how much blood. You couldn't at least bandage it first?" Her tone was angry, scolding. "Didn't your teacher show you how to do emergency first aid at school?"
She finished rinsing. Green chakra bloomed across one palm, and she pressed it gently over the wound.
"Don't you ever let this happen again! When we get home, we're cleaning this properly."
Shin watched her—lips pressed together, silent—as she fussed over his hand and scolded him without pause. Something in his chest ached. All the grief he'd been holding surged at once, rising behind his eyes, threatening to spill.
He didn't let it. Only sniffed once, softly.
Hana caught it. She looked up. His dark eyes held so much—too much—and the words died on her tongue.
Shin…
What happened…
"What's wrong?" she asked gently. Worry filled her gaze.
"Hana… nee…"
He lifted his head. Eyes wide open. Drew several deep breaths through clenched teeth.
He's trying not to cry…
Hana saw it—the effort carved into that too-young face. Grief he couldn't name and couldn't hide.
Her chest tightened.
The Shin who's always the most well-behaved… what happened?
She pulled him into her arms. Held him tight. Gave him something to lean against.
"Whatever happened—can you tell me?"
"…"
He didn't speak. Didn't cry. Held there in her embrace, his expression slowly smoothed into something quiet. Something distant. His dark eyes grew still.
He'd only lost control for a moment. That was all.
Shin shifted slightly, and Hana let go. She watched him, still worried.
"I'm… fine, Hana-nee." A thin smile. Unconvincing.
"…" Hana bit her lip. He didn't want to talk. She didn't know how to ask.
"Let's eat," Shin said quietly.
"…Okay."
Hana picked up the bento. Shin sat on the ground. She opened the box—rice and dishes, carefully prepared, fragrant.
"Everything's made to your taste. How's your hand—want me to feed you?" She smiled, trying to brighten the air around him.
Shin shook his head. Picked up the chopsticks himself. Sat on the ground and ate, slowly, mechanically.
Hana watched him in silence.
"Oh—so this morning, Kiba slept all the way until noon and wouldn't get up. I stuck my wet hand on his stomach and—you should've seen his face! It was hilarious, haha—" She launched into the story, trying to pull even the smallest reaction from him.
"Mm…"
"…"
"And Shin—you remember my teammate Ryoto Ninomiya, right? The other day we went for barbecue and this idiot forgot to flip the meat. One whole side was completely charred black. And he just—ate it all. Didn't even blink. Can you believe that?"
"Heh. Impressive…"
"…"
"And then—" Hana pressed on, undeterred.
"Hana-nee." Shin cut her off. Looked up at her and smiled.
"I'm fine."
"Shin…" Her gaze softened. The way he said it only made her heart ache more.
Then she seemed to remember something. She reached behind her back and unstrapped the long black case.
"Oh—I have something for you."
"Hm?" Shin looked up from his food. Eyed the black case resting across her lap. Curious.
"What is it?"
Hana smiled—secretive, pleased—and slowly unlatched the case, revealing what lay inside.
"Ta-da! Hehe!" She held the open case out toward him.
"Like it?"
"…"
"That day when we went shopping for clothes, I noticed you seemed really interested in swords. I wanted to save up and buy you one, but… they're so expensive." She laughed, a little embarrassed.
"This one—my teammate Zeri Kano gave it to me when he heard. His family used to be samurai, so they have a bunch of these. I don't really know much about swords, but…"
"Shin?"
"…"
Clatter. His chopsticks slipped from his fingers and fell against the bento box. He was staring at the black katana inside the case. Frozen.
"Shin?" Hana blinked at his reaction.
Is he… that happy?
But then Shin raised both hands and pressed them over his face. Hana startled—set the open case on her lap—and gripped his shoulders.
"What's wrong, Shin?" she asked, urgent.
"You… don't like it?" she ventured, hesitant. "If you don't like it, I'll give it back to Zeri. If there's something else you want, I'll get it for you—"
"Thank you…"
"Hm?" Hana paused.
"Thank you…" His voice was muffled behind his hands. She couldn't see his face.
"So you do like it?" Her expression brightened at once. She lifted the blade from its case and held it out to him.
"Come on—try it."
Shin slowly raised his head. His right hand—trembling—reached out and wrapped around the hilt she offered.
......
"Even if you knew the truth—then what?"
…
"If you want to know everything… find a way to get stronger."
…
"Hate your own weakness. Your own helplessness. If hatred can make you stronger."
......
His grip tightened. Veins stood out against his hand like wire, and the half-healed wound split open. Blood welled up fresh and ran down the hilt.
"Shin!" Hana's face went white. She moved to stop him—but then she saw his face, and the words caught in her throat.
That small, childish face was twisted now. Contorted by something too large for it to hold.
At some point—he couldn't say when—tears had begun streaming down his cheeks.