Maybe the true Uchiha speciality was a good ol' mindfuck.

AKA A Show of Good Faith

….

Chapter Six:

Land of Fire, Heart of Lead

Madara slammed into the clearing as a meteor come to Earth, his own Mangekyou whirling madly. "There you are," he murmured.

At the sight of Madara's figure, low to the ground and ready to strike, Shisui felt something shift inside of him, deep in his chest. He shouldn't have, he shouldn't but-

The relief was hard to deny.

But he was relieved. Backup, blessed backup, that he never thought he'd have again. It felt like having comrades again, that first flash of welcome chakra or muted green flak jacket or the glint of ebony Uchiha hair-

Shisui couldn't feel the ground beneath him, the world seemingly twisting and writhing around him as reality reorganised itself into his worst possible nightmare, and yet-

Madara flared like a fire-bright coal, stoking some hearth inside of Shisui.

"Madara." To-Obito's eyes burned into the Clan Head's, rife with an emotion too chaotic for Shisui to place. But the tone-

"Madara, he did something."

Obito seemed to sway in place, as though he'd made to step forward and had reconsidered at the last possible second. Shisui stared, frozen.

"I can't- I can't find-"

He knew Madara. He was-

Obito's remaining eye - the other tightly closed, lid sagging empty where the eye he'd gifted Senpai had once belonged - strained wide, earnest, as he kept jabbering on. In the low dawn light, the sun still a distant flush of pastels on the horizon, he looked deranged. As if he couldn't help himself. "They're not where they said they would be-"

He was talking as though they'd spoken, planned...something… between the two of them. That eerie familiarity, the sudden rush of unexpected uncertainty- Obito was...was looking for reassurance-

As if Madara had come to help him, not-

Betrayal lanced through Shisui's heart, burning as a blacksmith's brand.

You're a fucking fool, Shisui.

How long had Madara been planning to backstab him? Shisui subconsciously slid to the side, placing himself equidistant from both men. Madara has promised he'd seen nothing of Tobi and Shisui had believed him. Taken at face value with honest words of thanks for the watchfulness. Madara had been plotting whilst Shisui was puttering around doing odd jobs- His murderous brother had been in contact with the very man who'd taken him in.

Had Izuna known? Ren-san? Was this the real reason Chiasa-kun had been tailing him...

Shisui's jaw clenched, teeth grinding, and, with a flutter of chakra, he Shunshined across the garden. Madara tracking him carefully, shifting minutely to face Tobi more directly, but the scarred Man didn't even look at the teen, just continuing with his spiel. Shisui's sandals skid across the wet earth as he plucked Nari-chan's shivering form from the grass, tucking her safely into his weapons pouch between the bandage rolls. His hand paused, thumb lingering over the frantic thrum of her tiny heart. "Unsummon yourself," he begged in a voice he barely recognised as his own, low as a whisper. Nari-chan ignored him.

Her heartbeat thrummed desperately beneath his shaking fingers, so delicate and yet so stubborn.

Behind him, a shadow descended across Shisui's hunched figure and near-silent wings swept dust into the air with each beat, whipping the grass and Shisui's own curls as Eiichi-san hovered protectively at the teen's back.

He had them. He… he had his Crows and-

He didn't need anyone else!

"Madara!" Shisui shouted, twisting back to face the standoff - no, the meeting - as Eiichi landed directly at his back, wings spread like a great cloak stretching up and up either side. His powerful chest brushed against Shisui's shoulderblades with every inhale. "You fucking liar!"

Madara didn't even twitch, eyes unwavering from the man in front of him. Tobi continued, jabbering on in near delirium about statues and moons and-

Eiichi's wings hooked forwards, a shield of silken feathers that immediately righted him. Protected him. A constant.

Eiichi was real, Nari-chan - still hurting, still breathing - was real.

If-If Obito was right, if this was to do with Shisui's Mangekyou…

Shisui set his jaw, readjusted his grip on his tantō, and lunched forwards, curving the blade in a upward arc with all the speed he could manage.

Then Shisui was the one in control here-!

Obi-Tobi was, perhaps for the first time, properly distracted, mouth snarled wide and eyes unwavering from Madara's Sharingan and-

The Uchiha Clan Head lunged forwards, almost faster than the eye could track but not faster than Shisui.

The wicked sharp edge of Shisui's blade met flesh and sank through to scrape the bones of Tobi's ribs.

The man immediately launched himself backwards, pulling off of the blade with a sickening slide, but still staring at Madara with that awful look in his eye.

His twisted lips opened-

"No," Shisui cut him off before anything else could slither out of his cursed mouth. He felt a kind of haze settling into the corners of his vision, a tremble of rage that almost gave way to a bastardised battlefield serenity. Shisui's blade dripped scarlet into the grass. He advanced after Tobi. "You don't get to fucking speak-"

He was putting Madara, the bastard, to his back but, seeing as the Clan Head had no problem betraying people over and again, Shisui was willing to put up with a third party for the time being. Tobi was his main priority now.

"I've ruined everything, right?" Shisui pushed his lips closed on a snarl, forcing an ugly smirk. His knees were weak. "Isn't that what you said?"

Tobi finally looked at him.

His ribcage was soaking his robe. He'd bleed out soon without medical intervention. And intrusive thought speared Shisui's mind it the sight of it, something he could unthink. Couldn't unsee.

A slow, drained death… is that how Tobi had killed his Clan? Did they die in the streets, holding their wounds but unable to keep the precious lifeblood inside?

A fitting death, then, if Shisui was lucky and the wound took hold. Ironic.

"You're angry." Tobi's voice had resettled, deep and thoughtful and far too close to home to do anything but strike agony into Shisui's battered heart.

Tobi seemed to sense this, gathering the scraps of his composure around him like a tattered cloak as Madara's silence stretched on and on.

Like some kind of parasite, Tobi's reviving self-assurance leeched at Shisui's own.

He took another swipe, this one side-stepped, and tugged his blade free of the ruined turf. "You don't-" he panted, "know a fucking thing."

Tobi bared his teeth. "You're terrified." And understanding lit behind that cruel gaze. His eye flicked behind Shisui. "Oh."

Shisui lunged.

Tobi met him halfway, Shisui's stolen tantō reappearing like a mirage settling into reality. The blades clashed, a frustrating repetition of the earlier fight but this time with an audience. Around them, the alarm continued to wail.

"Well?!" Shisui snarled, ducking under a swipe and twisting a powerful kick through Tobi's shoulder. "Are you with me or against me, you traitorous-"

A fist lashed out and collided with Shisui's left elbow with a sickening crack. Agony instantly lanced up Shisui's arm, his forearm hanging like that of a broken doll, but the teen only gritted his teeth on a scream and tucked the arm as close as he could get it.

Madara was lifeless behind him, reduced to a frozen chakra signature and a stern red-gaze, snatches of engrossed Sharingan visible as the two younger men exchanged blows.

At this, Tobi chuckled, deep and rumbling as a rockslide, chin tucked low despite the flurry of his attacks. His rib wound, despite the severity and sickening amount of blood, seemed meaningless to him. "He's not in this fight, Shisui-kun… I'll do it all myself if I have to."

A trail of premonition, like an ice-cold finger traced down the furrow of Shisui's spine, chilled the haze of the teen's anger. That….didn't sound like Tobi was just talking about killing Shisui...

Tobi kicked Shisui's legs out from under him, following the younger as he fell to the ground, and landed with his knees pinning Shisui's arms. The teen shrieked, broken elbow protesting, and Tobi leaned down with sickening intent. A crackle of chakra, heaving up and poised to strike and held, like the fullness of expanded lungs poised before an explosive Great Fireball, and-

Fingers skimmed the delicate, lilac skin of his under-eyes, even as Shisui twisted and snapped his teeth, clenching his core muscles and getting his feet planted and heaving- getoffgetoffgetaway-

"Shisui!" Izuna shouted, leaping over the fence with his katana drawn, a gleam of quicksilver in the low morning light. The Uchiha Heir threw his blade upwards, scarlet eyes fixed beyond the fight, and brought it down with a cry.

From above them, there came a roar like a dragon and the sky lit up scarlet.

The column of fire passed through Tobi's form, the shiver of the oppressive heat surrounding his fading figure like an aura. A demonic aura, from Shisui's own personal hell.

Tobi's thumbs pressed just as Izuna grabbed the older man's arms, tearing his grip away and thrusting his knee into Tobi's jaw in one smooth transition. As soon as the fire passed, the great shadow of Eiichi's form descended, his wicked sharp beak hooking around Tobi's jugular, like hunted prey hanging lifeless.

Shisui wanted to lie there, breathe and blink.

He tensed his muscles instead, heaving himself up and away, even as Izuna stepped close to Tobi's captured figure.

"Who are you, intruder?" he snarled, sword-edge unwavering despite the utter fury of his tone.

Shisui didn't want to look away but-

He turned and met Madara's eyes. The fire had been his. But why….why had he let him-

Eiichi suddenly screamed, shrill and ear-shattering and, with an echoing clack, his beak snapped shut on air-

Tobi's chakra signature faded to nothing, as if he had never been there.

There was a beat of terrible, terrible silence.

Shisui's heart thumped once, twice, and he wondered when it would just… stop.

He stared at Madara and Madara, stone-faced, stared back, as everyone else erupted around them. Behind him, Eiichi cackled angrily in the far back of his great throat, lashing out in frustration with wicked claws and carving trenches into the ruined soil at the loss of his prey.

There was a quiet inside of Shisui. It was a kind of serenity, one part the hush of a decimated battlefield and one part the silent tick of a hospital clock. A sickening twist of humour, an 'of course', soured his tongue.

He was, Shisui dimly noted, trembling.

Tobi was gone.

Again.

And Madara…

The thought spun around and around in Shisui's skull, gaining speed and anger and spurring and-and-and-

Shisui's black eyes bled into the red of his Sharingan, boring into Madara's even as Izuna snarled and spat and barked a dozen orders at the tangle of guards spread out over Ren-san's garden. As the residents finally poured from their houses, away from the fight, the backdoor of the house slammed open.

"What happened?!" Ren-san demanded with a furious howl, wrapped up in her nightclothes beneath a blanket and with a wicked-looking battle axe in her firm grip. The reactions felt so delayed, even though Shisui distantly recognised that keeping back until the guards descended was an implemented tactic, that Shisui couldn't stifle the whispers of suspicion in the back of his mind. Sharingan spinning, the whole world seemed… hazed. Slow as a bad dream, limbs thick as honey, and Shisui simply stood there and tried to think through the chaos.

Tobi couldn't have been there for more than three minutes.

His arm was on fire, another bitter reminder that Tobi could snap him like a stick at any given time and disappear like smoke. Like he just had done.

And Madara had… Madara had let him.

"Shisui-" Izuna was gripping his shoulder, mindful of the break, tone imperative and lowly furious. "Tell me what happened, Shisui."

With conscious effort, the teen unclenched his jaw, muscles aching from the strain. He had yet to blink. Even that felt like a risk now. "Ask Madara." The honorific was conspicuously absent and Izuna jerked back as though Shisui had slapped him. Bewildered and stressed - how the Fuck could he play them like this, was nowhere safe, how long until he started picking off Clansmen like the sicko he was -, Izuna twisted towards his brother. "Nii-sama?"

Madara's stoney expression twisted minutely, a furrow appearing between his brows and something like disgust tugging at his lips. "A lunatic; the man is depraved."

Shisui couldn't fucking stand this. "He knew you," he spat, ignoring how Izuna stared at the accusation. Of course, his br-Tobi would recognise Uchiha Fucking Madara but Shisui had meant the description more… personally. The brothers would only understand that manner anyway. Shisui was supposed to be an illegitimate.

Shisui hadn't lost his Clan and his Village and his whole fucking life. He was some fucking kid from nowhere with a goddamned Sharingan and a psychopath on his tail. Shisui couldn't forget the truth, afterall.

Unable to compose himself, Shisui snickered, gripped with hysteria even as he shook off Izuna's grip and stepped closer to Madara. He hadn't even moved since his arrival, feet planted like a statue instead of a supposed warrior. A defender of his kin. The teen snorted again, Sharingan swirling lazily. The adrenaline had levelled now, slowing his heart but dulling the throb of his arm. This, this he could work with.

"Like I said," Madara eyed him carefully, noting the metre distance between them and the strange looseness of the younger man's limbs, even broken as one was. "He was obviously insane."

A smile tugged at Shisui's lips, a mockery of good humour. Behind them, Ren-san was approaching, snarling about patrols and the effectiveness of a lethargic alarm response. "Maybe," he conceded, stepping closer. "Maybe he knows more than any of us. He certainly seemed to know more than me, Madara-sama."

The Clan Head's eyes narrowed, eyes daring Shisui to disrespect him just one more time. "I've told you, Shisui-san-"

Shisui bared his teeth. "I don't believe you."

Izuna launched himself across the distance between them, planting himself as the third corner of their triangle, and swiped his blade between his brother and Shisui, as though the steel could sever the tension mounting. "Seriously, what the fuck did I miss?"

"I have no proof to offer you that would satisfy," Madara growled, baring his own teeth. They must've looked like snarling street dogs, Shisui scoffed, feeling the Guards gazes like a weight on his back. "I've never spoken to your so-called 'Tobi'." He paused, Sharingan flickering over the microexpressions of Shisui's face and seemingly grasping what Shisui had failed to communicate aloud. "I wouldn't have allowed him to take your eyes."

Time seemed to slow with the admission, the Uchiha around them suddenly gripped with the realisation that the Ghost Intruder was also an Eye Stealer and-

Shisui blinked, the crimson of his eyes twisting and morphing. "You can give me proof," he disagreed.

The brothers, as one, regarded his Mangekyou with utter shock, their own swirling into existence and-

Their bodies froze, gazes locked, even as Shisui swamped their subconsciousness in a tsunami of oblivion.

….

They appeared in a world of fire and brimstone and ash, the ground hard with volcanic bedrock and the sky painted blood red, no sun or moon or stars to puncture the darkness beyond the threatening glow of another inescapable eruption.

They appeared in Shisui's Mangekyou and immediately leapt to action.

"What did you do?!" Izuna demanded, his own Mangekyou searing through the dim, crimson wasteland.

Shisui ignored him, thrusting his chakra and the genjutsu around them forward, flexed like a muscle. Mimicking his intent, the ground beneath them rolled, pitching and heaving like the ocean in a storm and spewing steam all around them from the lava lurking just beneath the surface. Madara was thrown backwards, his chakra unable to safely anchor his feet in this domain, where Shisui was Kami, and could only roll with the impact.

This wasn't Shisui's mindscape, nor was it theirs. It was a genjutsu, tempered and strengthened and the closest to unbreakable that Shisui could fathom.

He'd tried to pull Tobi here but the man had slipped through, intangible to the pull of his chakra as he had been to the force of Shisui's blows.

The reminder of Ob-Tobi only fuelled Shisui's rage and the world shivered around them like it would tear itself apart before the aching hole in Shisui's chest could ever be eased.

"Why did he think you were his ally?!" Shisui demanded, unhindered by the seemingly apocalyptic surroundings.

Izuna, prepared to lift his katana in defence of his brother, threw himself between the two once more. But he did not strike out, merely watching the teen before them.

"I told you," Madara braced himself as the ground trembled again. "I don't fucking know."

"How can I trust you?" Shisui yelled in response, gesturing with his own blade. Desperation curled like a snake between his ribs and he was so fucking sick of it all.

"Why else did you bring us here?" Madara snapped back, risking raising a hand to gesturing furiously at the world around them. "If not to try and kill us?" He seemed to pick up steam, finally releasing his stubborn grip on his Clan Head composure and Shisui was almost satisfied by it, this fierceness resounding with much more truth than his strict persona had. Shisui couldn't cope with facades right now. He felt wrung to snapping-point, unsteady with what was true and what was a lie and whether the men before him even existed. "How-"

"-do I have the Mangekyou?" Shisui finished the older man's question. The teen nodded to Madara's own, gaze flicking to Izuna's for the briefest of seconds. "Surely, you know."

Around them, the world seemed to shiver, trembling but not buckling as Madara's own Mangekyou writhed within Shisui's genjutsu restraints.

The sky flickered, blood red darkening to-

Night sky over rows of houses, small streets and the feeling of a hand around the throat.

Bodies in the streets, dark pools like ink, the stillness of a graveyard with the corpses unburied and no-one left to cry out in mourning.

"No-!" Shisui's voice, the whisper of ruthless torture and an immortalised tragedy, echoed across the wasteland.

Shisui, standing solid in his own illusion, clenched his fists until the knuckles stretched his skin white and breathed in the reassurance of the pain of his broken arm. This was...real.

Madara stared up at the sky with regret, dark eyes grim. His Mangekyou relented and Shisui could barely bring himself to believe the growing understanding and regret in the older man's solemn gaze.

"Tragedy," Izuna murmured. "Your village."

He wasn't correct - Shisui's Mangekyou had been the stupidest form of selfish, jealous… there had been a reason he had hated the esteem the Elders had regarded his Mangekyou, even more than their sickening satisfaction at the proof of his own bone-deep grief and regret - but Shisui didn't correct him.

"What would you have us do?" Madara intoned, deep and deliberate, as he eased his feet beneath him once more. "As a sign of good faith."

Shisui paused, chest heaving. A show of trust… Something… something that couldn't be linked to a… an illusion.

A truth that Shisui couldn't incorporate into a fake reality, even subconsciously forced by Tobi's own Mangekyou.

A hole in Konoha's history...

"Tell me," Shisui slid his tantō away, the slither of metal slipping into a sheath echoed by Izuna doing the same. "What is your history with Senju Hashirama?"

Madaras nostrils flared at the teen's impudence. "Why."

Shisui spat a laugh, sharp and incredulous. "Just as you said; Good faith. You want answers? Well so do I. And," he jabbed a finger towards his own furiously spinning Sharingan, "if you want to know what I do…" He left the sentence hanging, nodding to their volcanic surroundings. Izuna watched him carefully, eyes shrewd. "Well, we're in my domain, Madara-sama. What is your relationship with Hashirama?"

"They were friends as kids," Izuna suddenly spoke up, rising to careful feet. When he wasn't shaken to the floor again, he straightened and folded his arms.

Madara turned slowly to stare at his brother, eyes wide as though gazing upon the apparition of a ghost. "You knew-"

Izuna scoffed, mouth twisting bitterly, and he kicked a foot through a curl of smoke from the drifting embers. "What, did you think I didn't notice?" The question was bitter and spoke of years of silence. Shisui abruptly felt like an intruder, in his own genjutsu. Didn't feel like it was two against one so strictly...

Madara swallowed hard, throat bobbing above the collar of his deep red armour. He looked back at Shisui and the teen didn't think he'd ever seen the Clan Head so… open. The thought was invasive, jarring, and Shisui floundered helplessly at the realisation that Madara, the deeply private Leader he had exchanged few words with, appeared more man now than ever. When he finally spoke, his voice was raw. "It was a long, long time ago."

Shisui watched them both, noting the careful, fragile, tension between the brothers. Tried to imagine Madara befriending a Senju, his counterpart in the enemy ranks. Apparently conceal it from Izuna too. "How is that...possible?" Rage had given way to frustration but now pure disbelief was surfacing. The world around them had ceased erupting, the floor solidified and the sky, whilst still a dark and foreboding red, no longer flurried brimstone and hot ash.

"I didn't know who he was!" Madara shouted, standing as well and running his hands through his wild hair as if he didn't know what to do with himself. "I thought-" his voice dropped, as quiet as the ever-present rumble of the earth below them. Without conscious thought, both Izuna and Shisui had drawn closer. "I thought he was just some local idiot. We talked about peace."

Shisui's breath caught. He glanced at Izuna, who's dark eyes stared back for a scant moment before darting away. Izuna looked… tragic, a portrait of a storm-darkened warrior. Sadness and frustration and defensiveness visibly whipping into a whirlwind inside him. The teen's eyes trailed back to Madara. "And…" he scarcely dared ask but- but Shisui had to know. "Do you still want that?"

Madara didn't answer him.

Shisui was terrified by the creeping hope lodged deep in his chest. Hope, Shisui had learned, was often swiftly beaten back by reality and loss, tempered so that the raging fire in his breast could never grow beyond those tentative ever-glowing embers. But this was proof. This is real. This is happening. This is how-

Konoha. My village.

Shisui's neck twisted towards Izuna again, arms itching to mirror Izuna's stance but halted by the agony-shatter-broken of his elbow. Shisu could ignore the pain for a good while longer. He had to. Now wasn't the time - or place - for a rudimentary splint. Shisui couldn't let this topic slip from his grasp now, so close to finally talking about the village Shisui missed like a severed limb. Izuna was the key here, the player who had been so stark in their absence in Shisui's history books. Madara's last brother; The Final Tragedy, as he was often referred to by the Elders.

How had Madara done it? How had he agreed to a ceasefire and treaty alone, making peace without anyone at his shoulder and knowing that his brother was dead because of Tobirama? Did they know… who had killed their other brothers?

Were those faces in the crowd too?

"Madara and," Izuna's voice had pierced his brother's silence with conviction only to stumble over the Senju Head's own name. The older kenjutsu-wielder soldiered on, eyes fastened on the horizon and lips slanted unhappily. "And, Hashirama wanted peace."

Shisui's heart thumped. His mouth was dry as the Suna desert. "And you, Izuna?" he rasped.

The Heir's eyes dragged across the landscape, reluctant to meet Shisui's own but resigned to it. They gazed at each other for a long second and Shisui wondered if Izuna could feel the change in him, see it in his eyes. The rabid desperation for home, for Konoha, that clawed at Shisui's heart and lungs. Konoha, at any time, would be a blessing and a comfort and a necessity for him.

But Izuna was alive now.

Tobi was wrong, there was no way a false reality could exist and continue to ensnare so faultlessly within Shisui's own Mangekyou genjutsu-scape. This place was an invented destination, it's current design still anchored in his most recent spar with Itachi-kun, and the relief that Tobi was wrong - why should he have believed him anyway, a murderer and a traitor and a bastard and - almost collapsed Shisui's knees beneath him.

He could shake apart later. Bawl and scream and never sleep again at the revelations of the morning but-

Izuna was alive. Shisui had changed history.

And they needed him to believe in Konoha too.

As if reading Shisui's thoughts, Izuna's lips quirked. It wasn't a smile, lacking any trace of good humour at all. Sardonic and rueful and more than a little mocking and then Izuna refocused on his brother and opened his mouth. "We're shinobi...For every Uchiha death, there has been a Senju death. And for every shinobi death, countless innocents and civilians have died."

Shisui's breath left him all at once.

Izuna-

Izuna had quoted him.

"Izuna," Madara gazed at his brother in disbelief, visibly shaken by Izuna's admission, perhaps in not so many words, that the feud should end. And not by the annihilation of the enemy.

Nostrils flaring, brows pinched, Izuna did not bear the attention well. "It's unrealistic," he snapped.

Shisui couldn't hold his tongue any longer. "Only if you say it is."

Izuna sneered, deeply unimpressed, before he seemingly refocused, attention shifting before his Mangekyou faded to the usual Sharingan. "Enough of that," he insisted, turning to survey the landscape now that he'd deemed tempers sufficiently cool enough to allow for curiosity. "What Genjutsu is this?" His chakra flared but, like before, Shusui's scape was unaffected.

Shisui paused, mused on what cards he could afford here, and then decided that caution was a shinobi staple he just couldn't live without. "It's not tethered around you," he admitted. The genjutsu actually worked by merging with the individual's senses and chakra network. Many genjutsus could be identified by faults in the details, whether visually or by sound or another sense, or because the person's own chakra shifted and shattered the 'glass web' of the illusion.

This aspect of Shisui's Mangekyou allowed for the genjutsu to, for lack of a better term, encase the individual. The genjutsu was sensitive to shifts in environment and chakra and moved accordingly. Madara had pressured a reaction from Shisui himself earlier by using his own Mangekyou in attacking the teen's own mind in his search for answers. As an extension of Shisui's imagination, those… traumatic…. Sequences had filtered through, if only for the briefest second.

The Mangekyou wasn't perfect or unbeatable. Shisui had had to train it and teach himself it's unique capabilities… he just… never met someone who could-

"Is this why Tobi wants your eyes?"

Shisui hissed in his next inhale through his teeth.

This was a fucking conundrum. Yes, he wants my eyes to return to the future, although, considering he's my batshit brother, I think he's also motivated by homicidal spite and delusions of false reality. He's poorly adjusted, you understand.

Maybe, perhaps- he slaughtered every other Sharingan user in my time, he probably wants to tick me off his checklist.

Shisui didn't want to say anything. But Izuna's tone had been deceptively curious and Madara's eyes weighed heavy with expectation.

They'd tossed in their bet, answered truthfully.

What good was a show of trust if Shisui was to renegade at the very first opportunity?

I don't want to be betrayed again. The thought was fleeting but persistent, niggled in there in his brain and impossible to shake. It was the prayer of an orphan left alone, of the last-standing teammate, of a boy faced with ROOT and a boy faced by the murderous intent of a brother he had mourned and enshrined in his heart.

But, Shisui almost smiled. It wasn't a nice smile. He was a shinobi and, unlike samurai, the code of honour was a grey area at best. Betrayal would always tarnish. He needed Madara and Izuna to trust him, back him up like - he begrudgingly admitted, carefully thinking back on the fight- they already had done, and to ensure Konoha existed.

(-he also needed them to trust him for his own sanity. He needed to trust them. Shisui, for all he was a shinobi and a child 'prodigy' in battle and a murderer and an ANBU, was a sociable creature. He needed company, to feel that particular brand of camaraderie and warmth and protection and belonging that was so special about friendships. He couldn't bare to survive alone-)

So Shisui, offering up a prayer to whatever Kami could be listening and hoping it was a benevolent one, opened his mouth. "My Mangekyou forms… unique genjutsu," he waved his uninjured arm around the scape, suddenly feeling deeply unsettled by the attention and his decision to speak out. "Combined with Tobi's own…" His voice trailed off, uncertain. Tobi thinks I wove a false reality around us both.

I think we punched a hole and fell backwards.

"...Tobi's Mangekyou," Madara mused, rolling the words around his mouth and though they contained a hundred depths of flavour that he just couldn't place. A long, pregnant pause and, with a shuffle of volcanic gravel, Izuna turned to exchange a long look with his brother.

"Izuna and I," Madara's tone shifted, taking on a strangely dark softness. Like the soot of a fireplace, muted and gentle but still able to burn. His expression was contemplative, searching Shisui's watchful face like he could read all of the answers and liked none of them. "Were destined to go blind, not too long ago."

Something clenched with uncertainty in Shisui's gut. "Overuse of the advanced Sharingan," Shisui agreed. Even in his time, the Uchiha had found no solution for the deterioration. Even with the changes and advancements of technology and Tsunade-hime's revolution of medicine, many Uchiha - Shisui, with his Mangekyou, early start and full missions rota, included - could it resign themselves to half a life of advanced eyesight in exchange for blindness at the end.

Seemingly without thinking of it, Izuna's hand rose, pale fingers dancing lightly across the skin of his own eyelids. "So we exchanged them."

Shisui froze.

He… he didn't think-

He didn't think that procedure really worked.

And - Shisui's mind spun, scrambling through his memory of half-forgotten academy lessons and considerable more remembered Clan history sessions and -

And came up blank.

In their history, both the Uchiha Clan's final records and Konoha's, it stated that Uchiha Madara had taken his brother's eyes upon Izuna's deathbed. That the exchange had granted him the Eternal Mangekyou.

But-

Izuna, who had never been struck down by Tobirama's blow, had not exchanged his own vision for his brother's documented blindness.

Izuna who, apparently, had Madara's eyes. Before his deathly - or not - fight with Tobirama had even happened.

Did that mean- did they both have-

Laughter, incredulous and rooted in something suspiciously close to panic, bubbled in Shisui's chest and he clamped his teeth over his bottom lip in an attempt to compose himself. Was anything in their history books actually worthwhile?

A hand, Madara's hand, slowly reached out and, when Shisui failed to shy away, gripped the teen's uninjured shoulder. The touch was firm but tempered by the kind of thoughtful gentleness that set Shisui's nerves on edge. It was the touch of condolence, hesitant and mindful of feeling and…

"Shisui-kun," neither mentioned the return to the original honorific, although it somehow felt significant regardless. "Who is Tobi?"

Shisui's breath stuttered and, mouth parted, the teen imagined that he could taste the ash still swirling lazily through the air. He knew why Madara was asking that question, the brothers huddling into his private space as though, despite Shisui dragging them here to demand answers in the psychological security of his Mangekyou's higher ground, they could bolster his resolve by wordless proximity alone.

Shisui knew why Madara was asking.

He knew why Madara had paused, breathing hitched, when Shisui had referenced that his pursuer possessed the same advancement, the same Dojutsu, that marked the three of them 'above' their Clansmen. Why Izuna had dared reveal their exchange of eyes - which Shisui didn't even know was possible at this time without Tsunade's healing, no matter the kind of techniques the Clan seemed to have, and to leave no scars or weakness of vision…

To take another's eyes, for them to function correctly and for the transfusion of chakra to take root, required a level of harmony relatively unseen beyond the closest of kin.

They knew.

Grief, great and tidal and persistent, locked Shisui's throat so tight that he could scarce draw breath. He couldn't bare it, could hardly function with the realisation in his own mind. Unable to refer to him by any other name than the moniker he had introduced himself with.

And now, Shisui couldn't even begin to adjust to the knowledge that the brothers understood that Shisui wasn't just being hunted by a shinobi with a terrifyingly unknown skillet.

He was… he was his-

His fingers were trembling violently and it was beyond Shisui, raising them to press to his brow, to stifle the motion. His eyes cast downwards, head dropping as though his neck couldn't bare the weight of it any longer.

Sobs ached to be released in his chest but his eyes were dry and Shisui felt entirely incapable of anything beyond breathing.

Madara's fingers, tense with an emotion that Shisui, feeling how the older man's chakra seethed and simmered at Shisui's wordless confirmation, didn't dare to identify as anything beyond furious.

But it was Izuna, voice shattering the oppressive silence so abruptly that Shisui could have flinched, who started swearing up a storm beneath his breath. "Traitorous shitstain-"

"Izuna," Madara rebuked him in a low growl.

"I should've skewered him-" the younger brother raged, ignoring Madara and twisting around pace a short length before looping back. "I'm going to desecrate his corpse-"

Shisui burst out laughing.

He doubled over, mouth stretched wide and teeth flashing in the red light and Madara refused to let go. His stomach cramped, throat raw, and the cackles continued to spew forth, uncontrollable and inappropriate and Shisui couldn't breathe-

Izuna punched him.

The teen rolled with it, letting his jaw curve with the momentum and sparing himself a damaged anything-else and Izuna some bruised knuckles. The blow took him to his knees, his good hand planted to brace the weight of his torso as Shisui's teeth rattled a little. The hysteria muffled like fire faced with a bucket and Shisui was left to sink to the floor, strangely delicate.

"Feel better now?" Madara snarked above Shisui's head.

Izuna shrugged, shaking out his hand before offering it to Shisui. "Much." The younger teen propped himself up on his one good elbow and tried to settle his pounding heart, brain pulsing in time to each thump. And then, the world was in motion again. "Listen," Izuna insisted, lunging down and heaving Shisui up by his shoulders. Miraculously, his elbow wasn't jarred. Izuna clamped a hand on each shoulder and shook Shisui. Hard. "I don't give a Daimyo's ass about the fact that waste of fucking space-"

"Izuna," Madara warned, repetitive.

His younger brother ignored him. "That bitch?" Izuna could only be talking about one person. "They mean nothing." He stabbed a finger at Shisui. It was trembling, whether from rage or-

Shisui swallowed.

"We're going to catch that little fucker, Shisui," Izuna grinned. "And then you can deal with him, as is your right." In the crimson light, Izuna's teeth looked bloodstained. "Understand?"

Shisui sucked in a breath through his nose and cradled his elbow. Found a grin somewhere and pasted it on. "Perfectly."

….

The thick black lines that warped and curved through Shisui's scarlet irises slowed their sluggish turning, shrinking down to three tomoe before his eyes faded to their natural black again. For a long moment, as reality returned and illusion faded, he could see nothing but blackness.

Then the shadows shifted, the twitching of muscle and the familiar rustle of feathers, as Eiichi lifted his wings to reveal Ren-san's decimated garden once more.

His summon had crouched around his frozen figure, standing a short distance from Madara, with Izuna between them, just as they were. They hadn't moved.

A handful of seconds could have passed in reality without any bearing on what happened in Shisui's genjutsu. Those without the Sharingan's predisposition towards 'hyper-cognitive processing' would be very ill.

"Eiichi," Shisui coughed, coming back to himself as Madara and Izuna jerked to awareness. The teen brushed a hand against the wings bracketing them.

"Just so, Shisui-chick," Eiichi warbled, deep baritone and stilted accent, unfamiliar with the human tongue. The teen felt a prickle of heat at the name, sure that Takumi-sama had told his tale to warrant the familiarity, but didn't quite manage a blush. He felt too sick for it, from both the elbow and seeing the demolishment of the garden. Bringing back the hurt and frustration of Tobi, how he always seemed to just slip away.

Like trying to catch smoke with his bare hands.

Genma had once chased a mark for seventeen months, slipping away and surviving a frankly ridiculous manner of 'natural' accidents. The brunette assassin had been furious with every new sighting, winding tighter and tighter until, finally, drowning the man in a thundering waterfall with his own two hands to ensure the state took hold and kept this time.

For months afterwards, he always triple checked his kills, doubting himself.

It happened to everyone, fights started and paused and started and fled and interrupted. Battle was messy and thoroughness was not always possible.

Shisui couldn't have that here.

Months of this? This waiting and fear-

He didn't think he'd make it, nerves shot to hell and triggered by the slightest movement. He'd be a sitting duck and the conclusion would be a sick kind of mercy instead of the retributionary fight Shisui ached for.

"Madara-sama!" Ren-san's progress across the garden had been largely unhindered and she collided with the Clan Head with unrelenting intent. "A four minute reaction time for the intruder alarm is unacceptable! That Ghost could've-"

"Murdered the Clan?" Shisui interjected, baring his teeth.

Izuna rested a hand on his bicep, whether in support or as a warning, Shisui wasn't of a mind to tell. "We're going to Tomo-sensei," he ordered, tugging the teen's arm. Shisui didn't move, eyes latched challengingly on Madara's. Waiting to see what he would do.

Madara inclined his head before turning himself towards Ren's considerably smaller figure. "The Guards are going to be patrolling more frequently," Madara promised, pitching his voice so Chiasa-kun could also hear, and Shisui blinked in grim satisfaction. "Shisui-kun has very kindly provided a list of information on this 'Tobi' and we'll be scouting for appearances in the local villages and farmlands too."

It wasn't going to be enough but it was a start and Shisui allowed Izuna to push him back again, heading towards the sidegate and the road.

Shisui twisted his neck, curls brushing his collar, to meet Eiichi's beady eyes. "Thank you," he murmured, pulling his weapons pouch open and curling his fingers gently around Nari-chan. Her chakra had been shifting, healing the bones Tobi's careless slap had snapped like twigs, and Shisui had kept tabs on her vitals in the back of his mind. "Nari-chan-"

Eiichi immediately dropped his head, beak clacking open, and Shisui wouldn't dare to come between the duo even well rested and at full strength. He carefully placed the tiny crow inside the open beak and Eiichi immediately clacked his mouth shut and Unsummoned himself with a puff of pale smoke. The nest would see her back to full strength quickly.

Izuna's mouth had dropped open. "Did you-" he glanced at the space the huge crow Summon had occupied and he was going to have words with Shisui for pulling that surprise on them. Izuna had genuinely believed Shisui had simply adopted a blackbird and taken to talking to it. Most of the Compound did. "Did you just feed your pet to that Summon?"

Shisui stared at him.

And then, slowly like aching joints remembering motion and slow like the first spits of rain, Shisui's face twisted. His hand came up, covering his forehead, brows furrowing and mouth tugged in an almost-grimace and Shisui somehow found it in himself to smile.

…

Shisui's elbow wasn't shattered but was fractured and, whilst Tomo-sensei had healed it relatively smoothly, he had been warned to keep off it as much as he could for the next few days.

Izuna escorted him home, head tilted close to his own and their voices low-

Tobi could phase through an attack but, so long as multiple attacks came at once, Tobi had to choose between where to phase out-

Yes, he could merge parts of his body whilst fighting and maintain his own grip-

No, for larger attacks, he would simply fade through the damage, although that did mean he let go-

Yes, Shisui had landed blows by forcing Tobi to choose his phasing on the fly and with enough speed as to force him-

Izuna's eyes had glinted with thoughtfulness, no doubt running through the weaknesses and strengths of Tobi's technique, and a grim satisfaction every time Shisui had mentioned the - frustratingly limited - damage he had paid back.

Apparently, Izuna deemed Shisui's recent frostier attitude towards him a minor, forgettable hiccup in their road to friendship.

He was ridiculous.

When they'd arrived back at Ren-san's house, the sun had risen and breakfast was obviously over judging by the bowl of cooling miso and then tepid egg rolls waiting for Shisui on the kitchen table. In the garden, the brothers - Minori and Michi, he remembered, who dyed the fleeces - were raking the ruined turf into a smooth surface again under Ren-san's strict supervision.

"Come to the Guardhouse when you've eaten," Izuna demanded. Shisui, half way through tripping out of his sandals, wondered if they'd ever manage to regain any semblance of formality or if this was just his life now.

The humour of the sentence was ruined, spoiled like aged milk, because yes. Yes, this was Shisui's life now.

The only way back would be by repeating the freak collision of his Mangekyou and Tobi's.

Shisui must've replied, satisfied Izuna's insistence somehow, because the older man let himself out and Shisui, ignoring the food, staggered into his room and slammed the door with unseeing eyes.

He was living here, would live here, for the rest of his life.

However long that was.

Spine pressed to the door, Shisui slid down until his bum hit the floor and folded his legs as close to his chest as he could manage (protect the soft stomach, the organs-).

"How am I supposed to…?" He asked the empty room.

Unsurprisingly, it didn't answer.

What can I do? Shisui begged himself. He needed to do something, something useful, before he went mad.

What would Senpai do?

No.

No, Shisui couldn't think like that. Kakashi would- if he saw Shisui's br-

Shisui knew how Kakashi handled his grief, kept it raw and personal and picked at the scabs until they bled afresh just to remind himself of the lessons learned and just to feel again. Shisui couldn't copy that. Couldn't fathom his Senpai's reaction.

Inoichi-sensei had been the only person Shisui had ever actually talked to Obito about.

He'd locked them in his office, just the once. Had listened to Shisui talk. Chuckled at the story, poured them tea, slowly introduced the harder questions.

Hadn't even blinked when Shisui had grown angry, had raged. Had laid gentle hands on his back, his shoulder, when the tears burst through and Shisui had wept, bitter and heartbroken and lonely.

He was the closest thing to a father that Shisui had ever known. So different from the Uchiha, calm and funny with those pale eyes and long blonde hair that he insisted looked great even though Sora-sama, his wife, had grimaced at the mullet behind his head.

Shisui chuckled without meaning to, blinked and felt a tear drip down his nose.

He heaved a sigh and shuddered through the sob that followed.

His- Tobi- Obito had been missing for a long time. A decade MIA and he'd been plotting, that much was obvious. He had plans and he wasn't going to abandon them.

"I'll do it all myself if I have to."

Shisui lowered his head to his knees and let himself cry for the brother he'd mourned and the monster he'd been reunited with in the cruellest of fashions.

Outside, there was the clatter of voices and gardening tools as Ren-san patched up her garden, tone brisk and… just getting on with it.

His lungs finally relaxed, lips parted wetly and lashes clumped together.

Shisui had mourned his brother, had weathered the pain and the loss and set it to rest a long time ago.

Those scars had been clawed at but-

-a single, dark eye, swirling into Sharingan red and gleaming with malice-

Tobi wasn't his brother.

Obito had been carved into the Memorial Stone, his body unrecovered and his tomb lying empty in the Uchiha Shrine. Obito-nii had been but a child, immortalised in Shisui's mind with messy half-curls and orange goggles and a popsicle shoved into the corner of his dimpled smile. Obito-nii had loved him more than anyone in the world and Shisui had returned that love as much as his childish heart has been able, with memories of curling up together to sleep and sharing clothes and cooking for two when they were both so young. Obito had taught Shisui more than anyone.

Tobi was the lie.

And he'd run from Shisui twice now.

There wouldn't be a third.

….

A/N-

Me in ch5: Wow looks like I'm getting pretty good at this schedule thing!

Me in ch6: #PRANKD

I had this terrible intrusive thought after chapter five that I should only write when I absolutely want to and that updates don't need to be so strict. Which is like, totally valid, but immediately undermined the lesson I was trying to tell myself. Regardless, I noped out of the fandom for a while, meandered through some HP fics (revisiting my 2017 fic haunts was seriously like that meme? Bitch you lived like this? Also 2007-9 fanfic is a TRIP pfft) and finally circled back round to my blessed sunshine child, Shisui. Why is almost every fic I update about Shisui, you ask? (all two of them lol) Because I LOVE HIM. I will live and die and fight on the hill of Shisui (what shitty irony, dammit Kishi) and never stop

...this was a massive tangent, huh

Anyway, I hope you like the update, please don't pick holes in my plot that I had to restudy in order to write whoops, and I will delete anything mean. As always, don't like? Don't read~

Thank you to everyone who's been reading and commenting etc! Seriously blown away by the response to this fic. I have a discord and a tumblr ( x-authorship-x ) if anyone wants to pop by for a chat or whatever. I promise my reblogged meme content is funny ≧ω≦

Anyway, I hope everyone is staying safe and being responsible