171 Interlude_5.1 (171)

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Mikoto sat in the room facing her garden as she spent her afternoon with a calm flower arrangement session. For the past year, her afternoons had been occupied with her lessons with Takuma, but since the incident two months ago, that had come to a stop, and her days had returned to what they were before Takuma was a daily guest in her home.

But things had changed as well. Her sons had grown up. Itachi was no longer the child he was when Sasuke was born, and since his assignment to ANBU, her eldest son was never at home during the day. Sasuke, on the other hand, recently spent most of his weekends attending the clan training sessions with other Uchiha children—today, though, Sasuke was out with his father.

She knew what the father and son were doing. Sasuke's recent frustrations and the frequent absence of his usually never-ending energy worried her; it made her wonder if Fugaku—even herself—were putting too much pressure on their youngest by holding him to the same expectations set by Itachi. They were aware of how special Itachi was and that they couldn't compare him to other children, but no parent wanted to think that one of their children was in any way lesser than the other.

 Mikoto erased those thoughts and focused on the fragile flowers as she took a dainty pair of scissors to them.

There were familiar footsteps in the hallway, and Mikoto looked to the side to see her husband turn the corner.

"Sasuke?" she asked.

"He went out to play," answered Fugaku. He then took out a scroll from his sleeves and handed it to her. "This came for you. There is no sender on it, but I checked for traps or jutsu—it has none."

Mikoto received the scroll and was about to unroll it when Fugaku sat beside it.

"Sasuke did it," he said. "He performed the Great Fireball Jutsu today. The size of the flames and the intensity of heat… they were strong and powerful."

Mikoto stared at her husband in surprise. His expressions were still stony as usual, but she could see the flecks of pride in his eyes and the slight tug on his lips that portrayed how he actually felt.

"He did?" Mikoto put the scroll down. "Tell me more."

She sat there smiling as Fugaku vividly described how Sasuke performed the jutsu that every Uchiha needed to master to be truly worth their clan name. Fugaku was full of pride that their son was an exemplary example of what their clan stood to be.

"Shall we take him to his favorite restaurant today for dinner?" Mikoto asked.

Fugaku nodded. His eyes then went to the flowers. He asked, "I heard your student left for his deployment."

"Takuma? He did the day before yesterday." She sighed, "I still don't understand how Sayuri could let him go away to war. Wasn't he good at his job? He could've done good." She turned to her husband, "You could've placed him somewhere else."

"The Police Force didn't volunteer him for the war. The conscription order came from outside. They specifically asked for him; someone must've heard about him and thought he would do well in the war. As you said, he was good at his job."

"If he were a chunin, I would've agreed. But Takuma is a genin," Mikoto sighed. "I wrote a letter to his commanding jonin, asking him to treat Takuma fairly." It wasn't Takuma's fault that he was deployed late, which shouldn't be held against him.

"That was a nice thing to do. It seems you enjoyed his company."

"He is a perceptive child with a knack for genjutsu. He is intelligent and eloquent, if not a bit rigid with his imagination. I enjoyed our lessons. It's a pity that they had to end." She wasn't even able to explore Takuma's uncanny ability to snap out of genjutsu; if she knew their time together would be less than a year, she would've subjected him to more genjutsu to collect more information

"I wonder if I enjoyed them so much because I got the opportunity to teach genjutsu I lost with Itachi. They are the same age; they would've graduated together if Itachi hadn't graduated early," said Mikoto. Itachi only needed to be taught the basics, and he would take it from there on his own at an astonishing pace—she had never gotten to teach him anything for long.

"Where is Itachi?" Fugaku asked.

"He went out shortly after you left with Sasuke." Itachi hadn't told her he was going out, but she sensed her son leaving the house. He might be ANBU, but she was a war-hardened jonin.

Fugaku hummed.

Mikoto knew her husband had entered his brooding phase, and it was useless to snap him out of it before he naturally emerged from it. Fugaku loved their sons, but his relationship with Itachi was not what Fugaku would've liked to have. In Fugaku's eyes, Itachi's behavior of going out on his own with his life and spending more and more time in ANBU was akin to a child's rebellion—and Itachi's disinterest in clan matters was a bad behavior to be fixed.

She turned her attention to the scroll addressed to her and rolled it open. The writing was mechanical, printed on the paper from a typewriter. The first few sentences were a simple introduction that the author was an observer who had come across some valuable information about the Uchiha clan and the immediate danger the clan was in.

Mikoto wanted to stop reading. Letters like these were not uncommon; people seemed to have overactive imaginations about conspiracies that they wished were taken seriously. But Mikoto was curious as to why it wasn't sent to the Police Force, and even if it was addressed to her, what was the reason, when Fugaku was a better choice.

As she continued to read, the claims in the letter were astounding and outlandish.

The author claimed that the Danzo knew about the Uchiha's plan to overthrow the Hokage and his administration and would use that as an opportunity to wipe out the entire clan due to his hatred against the Uchiha. The author further claimed that the Hokage was aware of the Uchiha's plans as Shisui and her own son, Itachi, were working with the Hokage, and the Leaf Council—Danzo, emphasized the author— as double agents because Shisui and Itachi feared that the overthrow would fracture the village beyond return and would inevitably lead other villages to invade Hidden Leaf, leading to a fate similar to the Hidden Whirlpool.

Mikoto was about to dismiss the entire thing as a madman's rambling. The author's information wasn't exactly reliable. It was outdated because the Uchiha had abandoned their coup plans months ago, and their relationship with Hokage was on an upward positive trajectory—the best it had been in decades.

She also didn't appreciate that the author was calling her son a traitor to the clan.

But just before she burned the letter into ashes, she noticed the word that shouldn't have been there.

"Mangekyo Sharingan?" she muttered out loud.

The letter then claimed that Shisui had awakened his Mangekyo Sharingan, and Danzo was aware of the fact and wanted the eyes for himself.

Mangekyo Sharingan was a well-guarded secret. There were only a handful of people across the lands who knew of its existence. And many who were aware of it only considered it to be a story made to enhance the legend of Uchiha Madara. Mikoto and those who had progressed their Sharingan enough knew that Mangekyo Sharingan existed as it was engraved in the Uchiha Tablet, but the clan had lost the information on how to achieve the eyes as no one had Sharingan advanced to decipher the Uchiha Tablet, which only revealed its secret as an Uchiha progressed their Sharingan.

"What did you say?" Fugaku, beside her, snapped out of his thoughts and looked at Mikoto and her letter in surprise.

"T-This letter."

She handed Fugaku the letter.

"We have to find where this letter came from," Fugaku said as he stood up.

Just at that moment, a Uchiha shinobi landed in their garden and immediately knelt in front of them,

"My Lord, Jonin Shisui was found dead. His body was found floating in a stream by civilian farmers." The man's voice cracked for a moment. "F-From his body's condition, it seems he was in a combat…. And…and…and…"

"Out with it," Fugaku urged.

"S-Sir, his eyes are missing."

Mikoto's heart plunged as her eyes went to the scroll Fugaku had now crumpled within his first.

"Find Itachi; I want him at home as soon as possible," Mikoto issued the order as she rose up. She turned to Fugaku, "I'm bringing Sasuke home. You better find who sent that scroll and verify the information inside."

"Is something wrong?"

Fugaku and Mikoto turned back to see Itachi standing in the hallway with Sasuke by his side. Itachi had his brows furrowed, perhaps sensing the sharp tension in the room, while Sasuke looked worried.

"Mom?" said Sasuke.

"Sasuke, go in your room and do your homework," Fugaku spoke up before Mikoto could say anything. "Itachi, you're coming with me to the headquarters."

"Why?" asked Itachi.

Fugaku's eyes glanced at Sasuke before he silently mouthed the words to Itachi.

'Shisui's dead.'

Itachi's eyes widened. He looked stunned as if the world had ended—but the emotion disappeared as Itachi steadied himself not to let Sasuke feel anything was wrong.

Mikoto knew how close Itachi and Shisui were. Itachi was a genius, which led adults to treat time as their peer; they treated him like an adult. Shisui, on the other hand, treated Itachi like a younger brother. Shisui was someone Itachi could look up to, someone he could rely on. Shisui and Itachi's bond was something that transcended blood.

Mikoto pursed her lips. "Come, Sasuke. I will help you with your homework. Your father and Itachi have some work to do." She stepped forward and took Sasuke's hand.

"Mom, did I do something wrong?" asked Sasuke.

"Of course not, my dear. Father just has some clan business with your brother," she said.

Mikoto turned to Itachi and placed her hand on his shoulder, transmitting all the warmth she could to her son.

Itachi nodded to her. He knelt down in front of Sasuke with a smile and tapped his forehead with two fingers. "Sorry, Sasuke. We will train someday later," he said with a smile.

Itachi then disappeared with Fugaku.

In the rush of things and shock of revelations, none noticed that Itachi's eyes had a hint of bloodshot, and if someone looked closely, the skin below his eyes were slightly red.

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