Uchiha Kou

On a river on the outskirts of the Mist Village, a small boat slowly made its way along the winding waterway toward the remote mountains, far from the hustle and bustle.

The boat rocked gently with the waves. Its bow parted the thin mist with soft splashes.

The person steering wore a black cloak with red clouds and an orange, swirl-patterned mask. Only his right eye was visible, its gaze steady and deep.

Standing silently behind him was a black-haired boy in an Anbu uniform, with bloodstains darkening his clothes.

Uchiha Itachi.

This boy, who had personally severed his bloodline and destroyed the family that had raised him, showed no trace of joy or sorrow.

His Mangekyō Sharingan, enough to inspire fear in countless people, now gazed indifferently at the withered yellow reeds sliding past on either bank.

It was as if the bloodshed and flames he had left behind in Konoha had never happened.

The masked man steering the boat spoke. His voice came through the mask, steady and laden with hidden meaning.

"In the organization, everyone calls me 'Tobi.' I'm not an official member. At best, I'm just an apprentice in the Akatsuki without much ability."

He paused and turned his head slightly, glancing back at the boy with his one visible eye.

"So watch how you treat me."

Itachi drew his gaze away from the reeds and fixed it on the back of the man who called himself Tobi.

His voice was as calm as still water.

"Why hide your true identity?"

The masked man's hands never faltered as he steered. He seemed to have anticipated the question and answered without a hint of haste.

"Because it would be troublesome if people knew Uchiha Madara was still alive."

"The next person I'm taking you to meet is the Akatsuki's leader."

Tobi continued:

"He's one of the few people who know my true identity."

"One of the few?"

Itachi seized on the implication in those words. His voice remained calm, though a faint hint of probing crept into it.

"You mean there are others in the organization who know your true identity?"

Beneath the mask, Obito's brow furrowed slightly.

"This guy really is sharp..."

He didn't mind Itachi's probing. In fact, with deliberate nonchalance, he tossed out the answer.

"Yeah. You know him, too.

I guess you could call him a fellow countryman... No, these days, I suppose I should say one of the few remaining members of our clan."

"Our clan?!"

Alarm bells rang in Itachi's mind.

A fellow Uchiha?

Here, in the Akatsuki, far from Konoha, were there other Uchiha survivors besides the man before him, who was pretending to be Madara?!

So there were still loose ends...

"Oh! Are you talking about me, Prisoner Madara?"

A mature yet lively voice suddenly rang out from behind and to the side of Itachi, so close it sounded as if the speaker were standing right behind his shoulder.

"!!!"

Itachi's pupils contracted sharply!

"When did..."

His back tensed in an instant. His chakra surged almost instinctively, and his right hand reached for the hilt of the sword behind him!

Ever since his best friend Shisui had died and he had awakened the Mangekyō Sharingan, eyes that could look down upon all living things, no one had ever managed to approach him so silently!

No matter how skilled someone was at hiding, his eyes could see through it.

And yet this person had simply appeared out of nowhere!

"This person... is strong."

He quickly turned sideways, taking a position that allowed him to defend and counterattack. His Three Tomoe Sharingan had already appeared, and his scarlet eyes fixed warily on the direction of the voice.

At some point, a figure had taken a seat on a slanted wooden pole jutting out from the stern, casually swinging his legs.

He was a tall, handsome young man, his black hair tied into a casual little ponytail at the back of his head. A few loose strands fell across his forehead, lending his striking features a roguish, carefree air.

He wore the same black cloak with red clouds as "Madara," but on him, it looked like the casual outfit of some rakish wandering samurai—loose and relaxed, yet somehow elegant.

A reed he'd apparently plucked from somewhere bobbed between his lips as he swung his legs. Two long swords were crossed over his back.

The cord wrapped around their hilts had been polished smooth with use. Clearly, they were well-worn.

If not for the setting, anyone seeing his face might have taken him for a nobleman traveling the land.

But Itachi knew better than anyone just how dangerous this man was.

"Relax, Itachi."

"Madara's" voice came from ahead, calm and unruffled, as if this were nothing unusual.

He didn't even turn around. Keeping his gaze forward, he spoke casually to the roguishly handsome man.

"You've gotten even better at concealing your presence, Kou.

...Should I say, it's just what I'd expect from the former number-one genius of the Uchiha?"

"Well... more or less."

The young man called Kou grinned, then hopped lightly down from the pole and landed steadily on the deck without making a single splash.

He spoke around the reed between his teeth, a little indistinctly, but his natural air of easygoing familiarity felt completely out of place amid the bloodthirsty tension.

"There wasn't much else to learn over in the Mist Village. I had nothing to do, so I practiced a bit.

Oh, and speaking of which..."

He raised a finger and gave it a solemn wag, interrupting Obito just as he was about to say something more.

"Let me correct you, Prisoner Madara. I'm not the former number-one Uchiha genius."

He took a deep breath, puffed out his chest, and announced in an exaggerated, almost theatrical tone:

"I'm the former-former number-one genius!!"

As soon as he finished, he put on a forlorn expression, gazed up at the sky, and sighed deeply, like a lonely old man abandoned by the times.

"Alas! Ever since Shisui and Uchiha Chu, two geniuses in the truest sense of the word, appeared out of nowhere, no one's paid any attention to me—the previous champion.

They say a shinobi gets better with age. So why doesn't that hold true for me..."

He turned mournfully, looking first at Itachi and then at Obito with eyes full of "the world is cruel," before letting out a sorrowful sigh to the heavens.

"Forget it! No matter how I look at it, this is all the Ninja World's fault!!"

Behind his mask, Obito's mouth twitched hard.

He was long used to Kou's everyday antics.

But... that last line, "No matter how I look at it, this is all the Ninja World's fault," had hit closer to home than he would have liked.

Ignoring the man lost in his own melodrama, he turned to Itachi.

Itachi was still on high alert, his Three Tomoe Sharingan lit and his right hand resting on his sword hilt. Every muscle in his body was poised to spring into action.

Along with the wariness in his eyes, there was something else, something complicated and hard to put into words.

Obito's voice returned to its earlier steadiness, carrying a hint of reassurance.

"Calm down, Itachi.

Kou is also a member of the Akatsuki. By seniority, he should be your senior."

He paused, a faint hint of mockery entering his tone.

"Besides... as far as I know, you two got along pretty well back when he was still in the village, didn't you?

Now that you're both members of the Akatsuki, just get along peacefully, like you did... in Konoha."

He gave the word "peacefully" a particularly meaningful emphasis.

Before he'd even finished speaking, Uchiha Kou darted up to Itachi in a single bound, moving so quickly that Itachi almost drew his sword.

But instead of an attack, he was greeted by an excessively bright smile and a rapid-fire string of greetings.

"Oh! Isn't that Uchiha Rong? It's been ages! Look how much you've grown!"

Kou's eyes curved into crescents as he looked Itachi up and down, wearing the proud, approving expression of someone admiring a promising younger relative.

His gaze fell on the long sword behind Itachi, still dripping with blood, and his eyes immediately lit up.

"Goodness! Why's there so much blood on the tip of your sword? Did you go slaughter a pig?"

He slapped his thigh with exaggerated delight.

"Oh, you really shouldn't have! It's not even New Year's yet, and you're already bringing me a gift! You're still such a thoughtful, well-behaved kid!"

"No wonder all the aunts and uncles in the clan used to praise you whenever they saw you, back when I was still with the Uchiha!

You were always popular with everyone. Fugaku and Mikoto must be so proud of you!"

As he spoke, he reached out eagerly for the bloodstained sword, still muttering:

"Speaking of which, where's the pork? I don't see any! There's plenty of blood on the sword, but where's the meat? Where is it?"

Obito silently turned his head away, refusing to look at the scene.

Even through his mask, his utter speechlessness was palpable.

Itachi's expression was extremely complicated.

He quietly studied the man before him, whose bizarre words and actions made him seem as if he would never grow up.

Uchiha Kou.

Before Shisui and Itachi had come into their own, he had been the "number-one genius" on whom the entire Uchiha Clan had pinned its hopes.

During the Third Ninja World War, he had been known alongside his peer Kakashi Hatake as Konoha's "Black-and-White Twin Blades."

...And he was also the "big brother Kou" whom Shisui and Itachi had once genuinely admired.

Yet this former hero of Konoha, the pride of the Uchiha Clan, and a key bridge between the village and the clan...

Two years after the Nine-Tails Incident, as the village grew increasingly wary of the Uchiha and tensions rose, he had chosen to defect without a word.

His defection had been like a poisoned dagger driven into an already fragile relationship of trust.

The village grew even more suspicious of the Uchiha, while the Uchiha grew even more resentful of the village's suspicions.

Uchiha Kou, the man who had once carried such high hopes, had become one of the key figures who pushed the Uchiha Clan toward its eventual coup and destruction.

At the thought, a trace of irrepressible disgust flashed through Itachi's eyes.

But years of shinobi training helped him suppress the emotion at once and return to an outward calm.

He didn't answer a single one of Kou's questions or respond to any of his remarks. He simply turned away coldly, building a wall of silence between them.

Kou's performance came to an abrupt halt.

He spread his arms with exaggerated regret and sighed.

"Boring. I thought you might've developed a sense of humor over the years."

"For example, if I asked when you were going to marry that little girlfriend of yours, Izumi, you should've said:

'It's still too soon!'"

"Then I'd ask, 'Fugaku and Mikoto aren't pressuring you?'"

"And you should've answered seriously, 'If they pressure me, I'll wipe out the whole clan!! Hahahaha!!!'"

He laughed so hard he doubled over, clutching the gunwale as he pointed at Obito and Itachi, gasping for breath.

"Huh? Why aren't you laughing? Wasn't that funny? That joke was hilarious! Hahaha... ha..."

(A white-haired little girl from the Pure Land sent a big rocket.)

"..."

His laughter gradually faded into the cold air, leaving only the rippling water.

Itachi's brow furrowed slightly.

His Three Tomoe Sharingan, which had just settled down, changed once again.

The black Tomo joined together to form an intricate pattern, transforming into the Mangekyō Sharingan.

His gaze was cold as frost, fixed directly on the still-grinning man before him.

"Kou."

His voice wasn't loud, but it carried a clear warning. Each word seemed frozen with cold.

"Out of respect for our past, I'll let you off this once.

If you offend me again... even though we're comrades in the Akatsuki now, I'll kill you."

"Gaaah—!!!"

Uchiha Kou let out an exaggerated scream and leaped backward like a cat whose tail had been stepped on.

He flailed his arms wildly, his face full of "terror," and shouted in a strange accent:

"A murderer's here! Don't kill me—!!"

Then, in the next instant, he vanished without warning.

As if he'd never been there at all.

Itachi's gaze narrowed slightly.

"That was... the Body Flicker Technique."

"So fast."

Even his Mangekyō Sharingan, capable of seeing through anything, had only caught an extremely faint afterimage.

That speed had even surpassed the Body Flicker Technique Shisui had been most proud of in life.

"Uchiha Kou... As expected, he's a powerful enemy who must be watched at all times."

"Hmph."

Obito's voice came from ahead, carrying a familiar hint of disdain.

"That guy's still as carefree as ever, like some kid. It's painful to watch."

He paused, his tone turning more serious. His one visible eye fixed on Itachi, carrying an unmistakable warning.

"Just to be clear, don't even think about going after him.

He's very strong."

"...I know."

Itachi's answer was as brief as ever.

Of course he knew.

He had joined Akatsuki to gather intelligence for Konoha and to monitor the man who called himself "Uchiha Madara," restricting him as much as possible.

For that goal, he couldn't let his own desires interfere and ruin the entire plan.

That was a basic quality of a shinobi.

"But..."

His gaze turned toward the direction Kou had disappeared in. What was hidden beneath that man's frenzied performance just now?

"Uchiha Kou, why did you join Akatsuki?"

With that unanswerable question lingering in his mind, Itachi silently followed Obito and continued deeper into Akatsuki's base.

The water still rippled, and the mist still hung in the air. The man who had just left seemed like nothing more than an absurd interlude in their journey.

Yet on a distant mountaintop, a figure stood in silence.

Uchiha Kou.

He stood on a jutting rock, gazing down at the little boat as it drifted farther along the waterway below.

All traces of his earlier swagger and brazenness had vanished. His eyes, usually full of roguishness, were now as deep as an abyss, reflecting the distant black speck as it grew smaller.

He let out a long breath, as if finally setting down a tremendous burden.

His tense shoulders relaxed slightly, and the irreverent curve that had lingered at the corners of his mouth disappeared.

He watched the direction the boat had gone and murmured, his voice so soft the wind might carry it away:

"Looks like... I really did make it past the night of the massacre."

His gaze turned distant, as if piercing time and space. He saw the Uchiha Clan Compound collapsing amid the flames of Konoha, the lives that had been lost,

and all the things he had once fought with everything he had to change, but ultimately could not.

A gust swept across the mountaintop, ruffling the hair over his forehead.

He instinctively pulled his Black Cloak with Red Clouds tighter around himself. He couldn't tell whether the wind up here was simply too cold or whether it was the patch of ice in his heart that would never melt.

After a long silence, he finally murmured to himself again:

"But the days ahead..."

He gave a faint, bitter smile, weary and helpless:

"I'll probably have a headache."

As soon as the words left his mouth, his figure vanished into the mist atop the mountain, as if he had never been there at all.

Only the wind remained.

(New Naruto novel! It may start a little slowly, but I hope you'll keep reading. Thank you, everyone!)