Because this story came back and told me it wasn't done being told. From Keiji's POV, because everyone else has found peace already.

Keiji was promoted into classified file work at the age of twenty. His brutal code of honor, beaten into him by his Genin sensei Uchiha Itachi, was what got him the job. Shinobi needed to understand the gravity of what they tended, of what they were trusted with, when they were allowed into the underground vaults. The vaults desperately wanted someone with a Sharingan as a transcriptionist, and his mother had told him "a foot in the door is a foot in the door, son," and his father had "hmm'd" in agreement over a mission report he was reviewing (Uncle Naruto had tricked him into retirement from active duty a few years ago), and Kaname had questioned Keiji endlessly about how cool it would be to work in a classified section of the government without being in ANBU.

The reason the vaults were demanding someone with a Sharingan was because they wanted to minimize the number of copied documents in their stores, and they needed someone who wouldn't abandon the village. Copies of documents had a horrible habit of finding their way into enemy hands, and only the Sharingan could read over a document, destroy it, and copy it back down word for word. Keiji was just the man for the job.

It was at nearly the end of a long shift of doing this (working through the Aburame family documents), that a co-worker spilled tea all over the document he was transcribing. As he tried to mop up the liquid as well as preserve the delicate ink on the page—one mission report of many of a long-dead Aburame clan head—the older man had laughed softly at himself.

"I bet they'll put that in my file, even if I don't report it." Keiji hadn't meant to spare the man a curious glance, but he'd noticed the Hatake boy's interest immediately. His grin grew wider, and Keiji directed more attention to him—Sensei told him almost a decade ago, while shooting a sly look over at Uncle Naruto, that those who go into battle grinning are the ones to watch out for, they are the ones who do unpredictable things. To which Uncle Naruto responded by stealing all the explosive tags out of Sensei's weapon's pouch without him knowing it.

The sterile white light of the transcription room threw all depth out of the man's face, making him look positively dreadful. Keiji resisted looking away from that disturbing face, it would seem rude to look away.

"Go ahead, kid, ask." Keiji stared a moment longer before opening his mouth.

"What file?" At this the grin turned feral and harsh giggling erupted in the room, startling Keiji so much that he nearly jumped out of his seat. He endured the sound for another minute or so before his companion could draw enough breath to speak again. His face was red from mirth, and his eyes were full of tears from how hard he'd been laughing.

"Don't you know? They keep a file on every shinobi or child of shinobi until that person's death. I have one, you have one, your parents have 'em too. Come on, you read this crap every day and don't think that you have one too? You should go read it kid, it's hilarious what some of those ANBU types think matters enough to write down. One entry in mine, from a few years ago, was something about what songs I skip on CDs, and a meditation on why I might be doing that. Pure comedy, Hatake, you should really go read yours, I bet with your stick in the mud Sensei you've got loads of funny ones."

Keiji had not yet been required to review any personal files, and hadn't even thought that one as young as him would have one of any standing. He was pretty duty-oriented, and without a reason to go into that department he hadn't ever done so. He had tried to shove the curiosity from his mind for the rest of his shift, but as he was organizing papers after his coworker had left, Keiji shot tiny glances over at the personal records department. It wouldn't hurt, the man had said, the ANBU just wrote it down later on that so-and-so had had the chance to review their file at their leisure on such-and-such date, and everyone left it at that. It wasn't hurting anything, and then Keiji wouldn't be laughed at tomorrow by his buddy.

There were very few scrolls in the Hatake block. Only four generations of Hatake had lived in Konoha—Hatake Mikio, his son Hatake Sakumo, his son Hatake Kakashi, his wife Hatake Sakura, and their children Hatake Toshiaki, Hatake Keiji, and Hatake Kaname. Keiji reached for his own and quickly unrolled it, not expecting much. At the second line his knees went out from under him and he tumbled in a semi-organized mess to the ground, in shock.

Hatake Keiji, master of the Sharingan, wielder of Chidori, Lightning Cutter, and Rasengan.

Biological son of Hatake Sakura and Uchiha Sasuke, brother of Uchiha Itachi.

Born 4.17.892, brought to village by mother, Hatake Sakura, 5.26.892. Vitals normal for age, born three weeks premature according to Hatake Sakura, confirmed by Godaime Hokage, Senju Tsunade.

Adopted by Hatake Kakashi as son on 5.27.892, one elder sibling Hatake Toshiaki(b. 888), one younger sibling Hatake Kaname (b. 894).

Entered Academy age 4, expedited graduation age 10 (Sharingan manifested 8.04.902, confirmed by Uchiha Itachi), promoted to Chuunin age 13, promoted to Jounin age 19. Sensei: Uchiha Itachi, Uzumaki Naruto.

The scroll went on to list a number of his accomplishments—and it seemed to indeed wax poetic in places as the ANBU operative analyzed the intricacies of Keiji's reading habits—but Keiji couldn't take it in. He'd always known he was adopted somehow, and after he'd had blood red eyes erupt in his head at age ten he'd known he had a whole crapload of Uchiha blood, but Uchiha Sasuke was an Uchiha completely unknown to him. Keiji knew of his sensei, Itachi, as well as his father's friend Obito, and a few other Uchiha who Itachi would briefly speak of with the slightest tinge of longing in his voice—a man named Fugaku and a woman named Mikoto. If Uchiha Sasuke was anyone of any importance, Itachi would surely have mentioned him—how could Sensei, Uncle apparently, fail to bring up his own brother? He shuddered at the thought—there were very few reasons why a child wouldn't even be told of his biological father's existence, and all of them were bad.

Keiji couldn't—wouldn't believe it. So he stumbled to his feet and reached for his mother's scroll, ripping the tie keeping it shut off almost violently. He had the presence of mind to sit down as he threw it open, the paper making a graceful arc through the air as the far end of the scroll flew into the gloom down the hallway, landing with a clatter of wood and a whisper of paper. The darkness would have made it difficult to read the text, but Keiji's Sharingan had flickered to life the instant his heart rate had skyrocketed earlier. What he read only increased the chant in his head—no, no, No, no, nooo, no, no, NO-NO-NO-NO—

Hatake Sakura, master of Chakra control, specially educated in chakra-based melee attacks as well as medical ninjutsu by Godaime Hokage, Senju Tsunade.

Daughter of Haruno Arata and Haruno Kiku. Wife of Hatake Kakashi (886—present), mother of Hatake Toshiaki, Keiji, and Kaname.

Keiji skipped the lines that meant nothing to him, and started scanning as fast as he could, looking for the name Sasuke on the scroll. The Sharingan caught the name on the Genin Team Assignment list, and Keiji forced himself to read it, whatever he might find. He'd always known that Mom, Dad, and Uncle Naruto had always been on the same team, and since that made up a three-man cell he'd never questioned. But he'd always been thinking of the wrong cell. This was his mother's Genin cell, teamed with his father, Uncle Naruto, and this mysterious Uchiha Sasuke person. They'd grown up together—and there was a lot of evidence of his mom stalking the Uchiha as a child. But why was he Sasuke's son sandwiched in-between Kakashi's sons?

He started scanning again and found his mother's reaction to Sasuke's apparent betrayal of the village, a blip in her life. Sasuke, the scroll's writer noted dispassionately, had left the village on a quest for power to kill his elder brother Itachi. He blinked away the disbelief which tried to cloud his gaze—he was not crying—and tried to continue down the scroll. He skipped over the account of his mother's romance with his father—Kakashi was still his father, right? Somehow?—as well as their early years together.

That was when he found it. The section was more detailed than the rest, an actual paragraph rather than hard facts and stats.

Kidnapped by Uchiha Sasuke 6.23.891. Kept sedated and imprisoned as the Uchiha attempted to father a child by her. Kunoichi states she kept herself sane by playing along with what the nukenin wanted from her once he'd succeeded in his initial goal for her. She also attested to continued abuse by the Uchiha, both physical and mental, until very far along in her pregnancy (for result, please refer to Hatake Keiji's personal record). Escaped shortly after son, Keiji, was born, returning to Konoha 5.26.892. Kunoichi admitted to hospital by Godaime Hokage, visited by Hatake Kakashi 5.26.892.

Keiji's hands were too numb to grasp the scroll any longer, and once it had fallen from his grip his fingers twitched errantly as his mind raced to understand his past, to understand the family around him. His Sharingan spun in rapid circles, making things move at half speed—it felt like he sat there for hours. Hell, he could have actually been there for hours and not even known it. Only when he couldn't see straight for the chakra exhaustion did he force himself to flick the Sharingan off, to close his eyes and wait for the tear trails to dry on his cheeks. His face felt tight, and his head hurt like hell from the chakra he'd expended just sitting and staring in shock.

His watch beeped the alarm—time to get up, try to meet Sensei in an hour to train. He had an hour, and he was pretty sure that the Uchiha clan still had records in this room somewhere. He was pretty damn sure that if they did, there would be a scroll marked Uchiha Sasuke.

The stumbling path he took down the hallway, his mind focused on finding the known whereabouts of the soon-to-be-horribly-murdered Uchiha. Whoever had dared touch his mother was going to die, and Keiji could care less about loyalty to the village if he couldn't avenge his mother for what had been done to her. If he needed to leave this very morning he would do it, all he needed as a little pointer on what direction he was taking.

Dust covered most of the scrolls in the Uchiha clan partition, most of them with yellowing white tassels marking deceased and disposed of as the current status of each shinobi. There were only scrolls with red tassels, one for Itachi, his wife Fukiko, and his daughter—Keiji's cousin—Chouko. A tiny rational voice in Keiji's mind took heart that the bastard Sasuke was dead, whoever he had been. The majority of Keiji's mind, appeased only slightly, needed at least the record of bloodshed to rest easy.

Uchiha Sasuke, deceased, traitor against Konoha, former apprentice to Hatake Kakashi, former apprentice and murderer of Orochimaru. Master of the Sharingan. …

And so it went, but Keiji didn't bother himself with his biological father's violent life. He wanted to know how that diabolical life had ended, and he wanted it to have ended painfully.

…Captured by Hatake Kakashi 11.09.892. Interrogated by Copy Nin for eleven days, executed as traitor to Konoha by Hatake on 11.20.892, confirmation of death and proper ANBU-level disposal of corpse conducted by Uzumaki Naruto (Rokudaime Hokage), on the same day. For further details of interrogation and itemization of crimes confessed to, as well as interrogation methods, refer to S-class mission report scroll 16502-B.

Keiji giggled irrationally. His father had taken care of it, in much the manner that a calmly insane part of Keiji had been planning on. He didn't go looking for the mission report scroll, he knew enough of his father's nindo to guess what had gone on during that interrogation. Those who abandoned their mission were scum. Those who abandoned their comrades were worse than scum. And, the part that few knew of, there was no depth of hell painful or lasting enough for those who harmed a comrade. He rather suspected that the third part of his father's creed referenced what happened to bastards like Uchiha Sasuke.

His watch beeped again—fifteen minutes until he was supposed to meet Sensei to try to catch a little taijutsu practice before they had to pull guard duty over the visiting Kazekage. Not that that crazy old red-head needed guarding.

He found Itachi sparring with three or four dozen clones of the Rokudaime, Uncle Naruto. They were the only two shinobi in the village who could remotely challenge one another anymore, and this was the kind of antics they got up to early in the day. If he weren't so mentally shaken right now, Keiji would have smiled at the particularly creative way Itachi sliced up one of Naruto's clones.

At the sight of their student's bedraggled appearance—and likely the smell of his earlier tears—both elite fighters paused and approached him. Naruto's face was twisted with concern, Itachi's was blank but his eyes were intense and protective. Keiji wondered for a brief moment if he reminded his sensei—uncle —of his dead brother. They looked remarkably alike, if the old photo clipped to Sasuke's personal record was anything to go by.

"Keiji, have you slept? I hope you aren't working too hard at that new job." Naruto, if he was big on anything after ramen, was big on sleep. Keiji shook his head, dazed and wobbly still from staring at a wall all night with his Sharingan engaged.

Itachi kept his own counsel, taking in the details of the dried tear tracks, the rumpled work uniform, the slightest lines of stress around Keiji's eyes. It only took him a moment to piece together his own summation of the horrible night Keiji had had.

"You read your own record last night. Am I wrong?" Naruto's eyes lost their fake playful gleam at Itachi's words, his mouth falling into the stern line which was well known to all residents of Konoha since it had been carved on the mountain next to Tsunade's glower. Keiji didn't have the energy in him to quail at the look his former teachers were giving him.

His silence turned out to be enough of an answer to the two men.

The question his uncle-sensei-uncle—Sensei finally asked him seemed to come out of the blue, and it was almost too much of a turnaround for Keiji's worn mind to handle.

"Would you rather share the legacy of Uchiha Sasuke than that of Hatake Kakashi?" Keiji's eyes flew open wide at the inference that he would rather be like Sasuke than Kakashi—would rather be scum not worthy to rot in hell than to be a shinobi of his father's caliber.

"Burn in hell, Sensei, if you can't figure that one out on your own!" It was only because he attacked one of the best shinobi in the village that his fist didn't connect with Itachi's face. And that was only because the other best shinobi in the village wrenched him to the ground with a weak chuckle. Keiji raged against Naruto's hold, continuing to yell and spit curses at Itachi as the Uchiha clansman knelt next to where he was pinned. The stressful night, coupled with the chakra exhaustion, caught up to him fast before he managed to truly insult one of his respected teachers in his fury. He let himself go limp, curling up fruitlessly to the ground as he let himself weep—his earlier tears had been those of shock, of hurt, these were sobs to release that last bit of anger he'd held onto to even stumble out to the training grounds. Naruto's hands released him, one moving to rub circles over his shoulder blades.

"Good," Itachi said, "now I don't have to beat you to a pulp and leave you in your mother's garden. Now, take some time to calm down, as long as you need, and then go home and hug your father and kiss your mother for all they've done for you."

Naruto and Itachi had sat with him for awhile before returning to the spar they had put on hold for him, leaving him privacy to work through his emotions. No one would dare enter this training ground when an Uzumaki and an Uchiha were sparring, so no one would see him and his tears (shinobi rule #25…). After about an hour he wandered home on less than steady legs, still covered in dust from when he'd been thrown to the ground by the Hokage.

Keiji paused, standing out in the street in the early morning light, to look at the home he'd grown up in. Two stories, with his old bedroom on the east where the sun rose, on the left side of the house, a small garden his mother had kept since he was a boy, and a small porch where his parents would sit together on warm nights. He closed his eyes.

His brothers had skipped out on training, they were fighting over something about breakfast. The sounds of his family filled his ears, muffled by the house.

This was home, he thought, as he felt his mother's chakra signature spike against his own as she headed for the door to drag him inside. He opened his eyes just as she opened the door, and he smiled as he met her bright green eyes and took in her fading pink hair. This was his mother, and just behind her was his father, and his brothers. This was home.

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