Sasuke's Heart

"... Those people are all Uchiha clan members?"

Inside the underground base of the [Jin] organization, Little Sasuke was wearing a disguise. His gaze swept across the crowd, his face clearly showing a mixture of excitement and bewilderment.

The people were dressed in different ways—some wore masks of the Anbu and hurried along, some wore ordinary clothes and walked slowly down the corridor, and some gathered in twos and threes, talking quietly.

Regardless of what they were wearing or what they were doing, they all exuded a faint Yin Release Chakra. He was all too familiar with that chakra aura; it was the unique chakra fluctuation of the Uchiha Clan, an aura he had sensed countless times in the clan's territory since childhood, an aura belonging to one of their own kind.

"That's... Uncle Teshio... is he... already that old...?"

Little Sasuke's gaze was fixed on two figures taking a slow stroll in the distance—an elderly couple. The man's hair was already somewhat gray, his back was slightly hunched, and he walked very slowly. The woman was holding his arm, with a peaceful smile on her face. The two of them Earth Flow slowly like this.

Little Sasuke immediately pictured a familiar face in his mind— Teyaki Uchiha, the shop owner who often made pancakes for him when he was a child, and his wife, Uchiha.

That night, both of them died. They were killed by Itachi Uchiha.

But now, in this world, these two people are still alive.

They've retired, no longer run their pancake stall, and their hair is turning gray, but they're still alive.

They strolled slowly down the corridor arm in arm, seemingly living a good life, or at least a comfortable and peaceful one.

Their appearance did not remain that of a middle-aged man in his forties, but rather, with the passage of time, they naturally aged and became two ordinary elderly people with white hair.

Little Sasuke really wanted to go up and say something to them—even just a greeting, or even just calling them "Uncle Teshio."

He wanted to tell them that in that world, he had eaten their pancakes many times, and they were delicious; he always remembered the taste.

He wanted to tell them that in that world, they died young, suddenly, and without explanation. He wanted to tell them that he missed them dearly.

However, a thought burned him.

In that world, these two people died because Itachi was protecting them.

Itachi killed his entire clan, including everyone he knew and didn't know, everyone who was kind to him and everyone he had no connection with—all of them. And his reason was "for Sasuke," and "to protect his younger brother."

The thought scalded his mind, freezing him in place.

He could only stop and watch the elderly couple's figures gradually disappear at the end of the corridor.

"Let's go, I'll take you to find Itachi Uchiha. You'd better be mentally prepared."

Big Naruto's voice came from the side, pulling Little Sasuke out of his daze.

Little Sasuke turned his head and saw that Big Naruto had changed his attire—he was wearing Anbu uniform and a mask, and looked no different from the people around him.

Is he lying in wait? Or does he usually dress like this at this base?

Little Sasuke suppressed the turmoil in his heart and asked in as calm a voice as possible.

"Who... did this? In this world, was there anyone who stopped Itachi that day?"

"... Let's answer your question first."

Big Naruto's voice came from behind the mask, somewhat muffled, "Come with me. The people here don't know my true identity, so don't do anything that will attract attention."

After saying that, Big Naruto turned around and walked in another direction down the corridor.

Seeing this, Little Sasuke could only nod, temporarily suppressing the chaotic thoughts in his mind, and then followed in Big Naruto's footsteps.

But he was still thinking about many things.

In this world, on that night, his parents didn't die either... Not only did his parents survive, but so many people from the tribe— Uncle Teshio, Aunt Kibi, those people living in the tribe's territory, those faces he thought he would never see again, they are all still alive.

They live ordinary lives here, taking walks, chatting, slowly growing old, doing everything that people living in this world do.

Little Sasuke felt a lump in his throat, and an overwhelming sense of grievance welled up inside him.

That feeling of grievance is like walking a very long road, finally seeing a place where you can rest, only to find that the place doesn't belong to you.

Little Sasuke envies himself in this world.

The days after his clan was wiped out were the time Sasuke least wanted to recall in his life.

Everyone he knew, everyone close to him, everyone he cared about, everyone who cared about him—everyone who had ever appeared in his life suddenly left.

One night, overnight, everyone disappeared.

The houses on the main road of the clan's territory are still there, but every door is closed, every window is dark, and every lamp will never be lit again.

He left nothing behind. No last words, no farewell, not even someone he could hold and cry with for a while.

Suddenly, he was all alone.

It was a deathly, utter loneliness.

At that time, little Sasuke could only sit in the empty room, tears streaming down his face.

As the tears flowed, they stopped; I couldn't cry anymore. My eyes were so dry that I couldn't squeeze out anything more.

He just sat there, until it got dark, until it got light, until he himself didn't even know what he was thinking anymore.

That state lasted for a long time, so long that he could no longer make that genuinely happy expression on his face.

At this moment, Little Sasuke followed Big Naruto through the corridor of the [Jin] organization's underground base, his steps heavy and weak, as if he couldn't muster any strength.

His mind was racing, trying to figure out what to say, how to say it, and where to begin when he met Itachi Uchiha.

He had so much to say, so much that he didn't even know where to begin.

Why?! Why am I the only one who survived?!

Why is he the only one left? Why am I the only survivor?!

Uchiha Sasuke didn't know he should say it that way, but he just didn't understand.

Was Itachi's only condition that he survive? Why exchange so many lives for his? Why not leave his mother behind...?

My mother is innocent, isn't she? She never participated in clan gatherings. She long ago abandoned her identity as Ninja and poured all of her time, all of her heart, and all of her love into her family.

She was just an ordinary mother, an ordinary woman who loved her husband and her son. Why wouldn't Itachi keep his mother? Why did he even have to kill her?

Could it be... that the only goal is to awaken his Sharingan?

If the death of a loved one is the only way to obtain these eyes, then what exactly are these eyes?

For the first time, Sasuke felt resistance towards the Sharingan, which was revered, desired, and regarded as a symbol of power by countless people in the Ninja world.

He didn't want this power gained at the cost of his loved ones' lives, nor did he want something that would leave him all alone.

If he could have his mother back, he would rather he had never been born.

"... Hmm? You are... Lord Menma?"

Suddenly, a voice came from the side, interrupting the jumbled thoughts in Sasuke's mind.

The voice sounded somewhat familiar, as if he had heard it somewhere not long ago, but there was a relaxed quality in its tone that he wasn't quite used to.

"What are you doing? Why are you pretending like this?"

Uchiha Sasuke looked up, followed the direction of the voice, and recognized the person who was greeting Big Naruto.

He recognized that face. That face covered in blue lines, like fish gills, those eyes that weren't quite normal, that tall figure carrying a large sword wrapped in bandages—it was Itachi Uchiha's companion.

He remembered that when this person stood there, he exuded an aura that made people afraid to approach him.

But now, things are completely different.

Kisame Hoshigaki's voice sounded noticeably more relaxed; there was no longer that tense defensiveness or the oppressive feeling of being ready to attack at any moment.

He didn't exude any dangerous aura; his shoulders were relaxed, his posture casual, and his expression—though his face was still as frightening as ever—surprisingly gave off a hint of kindness.

It's not the kind of feigned kindness, but a feeling that comes naturally from within, a feeling that comes with a good life.