Ch 140

The warmth of the tea seeped into my hands as I held the cup steady, the scent grounding me more than I expected. 

For a while, we spoke about nothing. Tsunade made a few dry comments about paperwork being the true enemy of the village, and I laughed, surprising myself. 

Kakashi followed up with a half-hearted complaint about Naruto's increasingly loud missions, and Asuma just muttered something about early retirement. 

It was... easy. Disarming, even. 

I caught Shikaku watching me from the corner of my eye, his silence a kind of pressure, like he was waiting for something to fracture. 

Though it seemed to be like he wasn't watching my actions, but my mind. It seemed like my weak mental state shook him. 

Ibiki said nothing at all, but I could feel the intensity of his attention like a pulse on the side of my neck. 

But Tsunade. Tsunade leaned into the tenseness like it was natural. Like she knew I needed it. 

"Do you still draw?" she asked casually, taking another sip of her tea. 

I blinked. "You know about that?" 

"Shikaku mentioned it once. Said you used to scribble in the dirt outside their house" 

I let out a quiet laugh. "Yeah... I still do. On paper now. Mostly seals, but sometimes just... whatever comes out." 

"Seals are a language too," her tone was lighter than the words themselves. "You've probably written more stories than most of the village ever will." 

I paused, then said, "I used to think if I drew enough, I'd make sense of myself." 

"And now?" 

"Now I draw because it keeps my hands from shaking." The words hung in the air. What does she think of that?

Tsunade didn't flinch. She just nodded slowly, respectfully, the kind of understanding that doesn't need pity to be soft. 

"I've learned," she started after a beat, "that people who survive like you did usually don't just want to be trusted. They want to stop expecting to be doubted." 

I met her gaze. "I don't expect to be forgiven for vanishing. But I want a place to stand again." 

"You have it," she said, firm but kind. "But don't rush it. Rebuilding takes time. Even for someone who went through the worst kind of pain." 

I sat back slightly, the tension in my spine finally starting to give. "...Thank you," I said. And I meant it. I set my cup down, the ceramic clicking softly against the desk. 

My voice was steady, but firm. "You don't have to handle me like I'll break," I began, meeting Tsunade's gaze directly. "Whether it's pity or suspicion, I'm not here for either. I'm alright. Really. We can stop pretending I need to be cushioned." 

Kakashi raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. Asuma gave a quiet exhale like he'd expected it. Tsunade nodded once. 

"Alright then. Straight to it." She leaned back slightly in her chair. "You remember asking me to remove your eyes?" 

My shoulders drew back. I did. I remembered everything about that moment. The hotel we used, how scared I was, how illegal it was. 

"I remember," I replied. 

"You told me they were your mother's," she continued. "That your Sharingan had been overused. That your eyes were no good anymore and you wanted to replace them." 

My throat tightened slightly. Tsunade didn't soften the next question. "Is there something about the Sharingan that no one knows yet?" 

For a moment I wanted to lie, to push it away with some excuse. But I looked around the room, Shikaku sharp as ever in the corner, Ibiki silent but unwavering, Kakashi listening, Asuma watching and I realized there was no running anymore. 

"When something... deeply emotional happens to an Uchiha," I began, slow, choosing each word with care, "the Sharingan changes. Evolves into something else. It becomes the Mangekyo Sharingan." 

Kakashi's eye narrowed slightly.

"You have it," I turned slightly to him. "That ability you use. The warping. It lines up." He didn't deny it. Just gave the faintest nod, expression unreadable. 

I turned back to Tsunade. "After enough use, Mangekyo Sharingan starts to deteriorate. The vision fades. Eventually, you go blind." 

"So you wanted to avoid that," she asked quietly. 

I nodded once. "I found... a way. If you swap your eyes with a blood relative who also possesses the sharingan, the effects stop. Not only that, but the abilities become stronger. More stable." 

"You found this out how?" Shikaku's voice broke the silence. 

My fingers curled slightly against my thigh. 

I hesitated. Then I answered. "I got them from my mother." 

My first lie. 

He didn't interrupt. No one did. 

"Itachi killed her," I continued, the edges of my voice duller now. "After he left... I went to her body." 

The room was still. Silent. Even Kakashi didn't move. 

"I'd activated it when she died. The Mangekyo. I knew what it meant. I knew what was coming." I swallowed. "So I took them. Her eyes. I couldn't bear the idea of going blind too. I thought... I thought if she had to die, at least she could protect me one more time." 

I didn't look at any of them. Just stared ahead, voice quiet but even. "She would've wanted that, to protect me one last time. To be with me for the rest of my days." 

No one spoke up for a few moments after that, taking in my words. Or more so taking in just who said those words. 

Whether they liked it or not, even though there was a lot of suspicion and angry directed towards me, none could escape the memories of when I was younger. They still associate me with that innocent child. It didn't help anyone but me. 

Kakashi's voice broke the silence, calm but direct. "You said there was someone else... someone working with Itachi." 

My fingers twitched. The breath in my chest felt too sharp, too shallow. I didn't want to answer, not because I didn't know, but because remembering him always left something dark crawling under my skin. 

I can't talk about Obito, but that doesn't mean I shouldn't take back some power. 

I met his gaze. "There was a man," I started. "He wasn't from the village. I don't know who he was, but he had a presence... like something that didn't belong." 

The memory was already clawing its way back. Cold nights. Blood on wood. My mother's body. My voice tightened, and I could feel the sting behind my eyes, not from tears but pressure. Like the pain was too old to cry over. That never stopped me though. 

"He wasn't after me," I continued. "He just... hated Konoha. Like he had something personal. Every time he looked at us, it was like watching someone tear down a shrine they once prayed at." 

Ibiki's voice cut in, sharp and skeptical. "That's a convenient thing to say now. Especially since he's conveniently vanished from every record." 

I turned on him fast, colder than I meant to be. "You think I made him up?" 

My hands were clenched now. "You think I stitched this together to sound tragic?" He didn't flinch, just waited. 

"The man I saw," I forced the words out, "was the same one who unleashed Kurama the night Naruto was born. The same man who wore a mask. Remember that being on record?" 

The room froze around me. That got their attention.

"I saw it. I was there. You want to question my story? Fine. But wait until I'm done. Because I've got facts. And I've got scars. From every moment I trusted the wrong people, lived through attacks, lost everything, got thrown into situations a child should never have been anywhere near." 

I inhaled hard. "Don't come for me yet. Let me speak. Then you can pull it apart. But don't look at me like I'm fragile, or a liar. I'm neither. I'm just... tired. And I haven't even started."

A/n First chapter with many more to come! Enjoy~