By the Naka River, the blazing sun burned like fire.
The air was thick with a nauseating, charred stench.
Uchiha Itachi, bound to a wooden stake, was no longer recognizable.
His breathing was so faint it was nearly imperceptible. Only the barely visible rise and fall of his chest proved that he was still clinging to life in the most agonizing way possible.
Several days had passed.
Uchiha Yao's orders had been carried out to the letter.
No one approached this traitor.
Nor would anyone give him a single drop of water or a shred of shade.
Inside a quiet room.
Sasuke curled up in a corner, burying himself in the shadows.
His childish face stared blankly ahead, utterly devoid of light.
His world had died that day.
"I hate my brother the most!"
The words echoed through Sasuke's mind day and night.
Sasuke hated the brother who had destroyed everything precious to him.
Yet he could not stop himself from recalling every little moment they had shared.
He remembered his brother poking his forehead with a finger and saying, "Forgive me, Sasuke."
He remembered his brother carrying him on his back along the road home.
Why?
Why had things become like this?
The door was gently pushed open, and a gentle figure entered.
Uchiha Mikoto carried a bowl of steaming porridge, her eyes filled with sorrow.
"Sasuke."
"Eat something."
Sasuke gave no response.
Mikoto placed the bowl on the table, slowly walked over to Sasuke, and crouched beside him.
She reached out, wanting to stroke her son's hair, but her hand fell weakly before it could touch him.
"Go... go see him one last time."
Mikoto's voice trembled.
"Sasuke, Mom knows you hate him."
"But..."
Tears slipped uncontrollably down Mikoto's cheeks.
"After all, he is your brother."
"Before you