I tear the black funeral gown from my body, tugging away the sash and ripping it off my arms, and toss it across the room. It lands in a crumpled ball against my closet door.

This had been... my first funeral. My first death, a death of someone I cared for. I... can't even recall what our last conversation had been about. I just hope it wasn't the one we had about Naruto. It can't have been... right? When was the last time I said "thank you" to him? Drank tea with him while chatting about the weather, the village? Updated him on my progress as a Shinobi? It's frustrating, so, so frustrating, that I can't remember.

If I didn't so heavily cherish the belongings in this home, they'd find themselves on the floor next to that gown. Instead, I breathe deeply, and cross to where my grandmother's headpiece sits, untouched and in its velvet containment.

"Sorry, Makara-sensei," I whisper, bowing to it. "I know I am better than my anger. I'll... try and remember this more."

A sudden feeling of guilt overcomes me the second I'd finished speaking, and my thoughts begin to trail back to when I'd been in the hospital after the second portion of the Chūnin Exams. Every time I think of Makara, I can't help but think of Sasuke.

Minako told me that she was an Uchiha, too, and the Third Hokage all but confirmed it to me. She used to live in the very same compound that Sasuke once did. She really is an Uchiha. My grandmother's name was Makara... Uchiha. And this means, this really means, that I am an Uchiha, too. It's very unlikely that there are any other Uchiha roaming about the world. He's the last of his family, and... he's the only one I can maybe talk to that can answer my questions, or who might know Makara, herself.

Maybe.

There's only one way to get those questions answered, though, and that's risking asking Sasuke to. There's got to be something, right? Maybe even... something that'd existed and still exists within the old Uchiha compound? Records, maybe photographs... some kind of information that could tie the pieces of my family back together. But first... I need to go answer the door.

I change quickly, slowly throwing back on my casualwear over my wrappings and bandages, and take my time getting back down to the first floor. By the time I've slipped my sandals on and opened the door, Sasuke's presence would've just reached the other side of it.

"Sasuke..." I step outside, shutting the door closed behind me. "What are you doing here?" I ask. "Aren't you still supposed to be in the hospital?"

"I got released just now," he tells me, straightening himself out. I don't miss how he winces.

"And what, you decided to walk all the way here instead of going home to rest? You still don't look that good." I reach forward and place my hand against his face. "And your chakra is nowhere near back to normal yet..."

"Yeah," I know all that," he says, removing me. "But I needed to talk to you."

"R-Really? Because I had to talk to you, too. Do you want to come in, or—?"

"No. I'd... rather talk at my place." I blink, and nod.

"S-Sure. Lead the way."

-

It's been a while since I've felt this awkward around Sasuke, but considering that we've yet to have time for a heart-to-heart after we both learned of our relation to each other through Makara... and maybe not even just that. We'd always been together with Naruto and Sakura, training and on missions and even eating together. Sasuke and I never had any major conversations (he's already pretty quiet as it is). Even small talk was difficult.

Why did he want to talk at his place? Was he uncomfortable being at mine? Even more, why is he leading us to the Uchiha compound? The place isn't too far from my own, and from my roof, I can see its tallest-standing building; a thick-shingled silo.

I shuffle uncomfortably at his side. Not because he makes me uncomfortable, but because it's become near impossible to think of something to say to him that doing so just as the compound comes into view would just be ridiculous. So instead, I bother to glance up at him, only to catch him having been doing the same. We instantly avert our eyes in the other direction; my cheeks burn with embarrassment.

Why couldn't Makara-sensei teach me social skills instead of Taijutsu?! I complain in my thoughts. I've near exhausted myself thinking of something to say. Still, nothing comes to mind.

The compound is about as quiet as I'd expected it to be. Even quieter, perhaps. I hear a slight rattling from down the street, and spot a cat's tail from behind an abandoned garbage bin.

"I'm surprised there's still animals around here," I remark, and begin making noises to call it over. It only gives me a look before ignoring me completely for Sasuke. "Hmph."

I hear a small snort from Sasuke, who's reached down to pet it.

"Animals usually can see and sense things we can't, so maybe—""I'm a ghost," I finish, grinning.

Sasuke deadpans up at me, shaking his head. "I'm really starting to believe that you and Naruto are related instead of you and me."

"Hey," I grumble, "I only sometimes act stupid, and most of the time, it's on purpose..."

"Could've fooled me with that scar on your arm," he says. Flustered, I unfold the sleeves of my sweater to cover it again.

"N-No one asked you, you know," I further complain. He rolls his eyes and continues walking after the cat leaves. I follow after him. "Sasuke... you were awake, right? When that woman came into our room at the hospital... You heard her... right?"

"... yeah." We come upon a built-in house on the side of the road, where Sasuke stops in front of its door.

"Then... why didn't you mention anything sooner? We were there together for almost two weeks... Why today?"

"Because I wanted to wait for the right time to show you something," he says, sliding the door of it open and walking in. I frown, following after him.

"Show me what?"

He doesn't bother to take off his sandals, and neither do I. Time hasn't treated this place kindly over the past six years, and the floor is covered with dust. In the corner of my eye, I spot a dried up splatter of blood on the stoop. I try to forget that I did.

"Sasuke, you're being characteristically cryptic again." He sighs at me.

"This... is my family home," he tells me. I freeze where I stand behind him. "I lived her with my parents, and my elder brother, before he killed them and our whole clan."

My lips part, and my chest suddenly begins palpating achingly fast.

"Sasuke..." I don't even know what to say. Of course, I'd heard about what happened to the Uchiha Clan fairly quickly upon me arriving to the Hidden Leaf Village, but after joining the same team with Sasuke, I never figured out what to say. And learning that Makara was an Uchiha, herself, made it so much harder to come up with any words to share with him.

He leads me down a long hall with no windows and no doors; aside from the few small lights hanging from the ceiling, it is almost completely dark in here. I'm surprised they're still active, but they must be connected to some power grid in the village somewhere, and no one bothered to turn it off. Would it be sadder if they did? That's another thing I can't bear to dwell on for too long.

"My father was the leader of the Uchiha, which means he knew just about everything about the Uchiha. And that means he also knows about the Uchiha's history. And now that he's gone..."

"You... you don't need to finish that sentence, Sasuke," I murmur, holding my arms close to myself. "I... I know what it means, okay?"

He gives me a look. It's neither sad, nor understanding. In fact, it's not like Sasuke at all. It's not my teammate that's looking at me.

"His room had a bunch of old records and documents," he says, stopping in front of another doorway. "Things that would've existed past one hundred years ago."

"From... my grandmother's era," I murmur. Sasuke nods, and leads the way into the room.

It is equally as dim as the hallway, before Sasuke reaches along the wall. A small click ignites the room in a soft glow from the ceiling. I blink several times to adjust my eyes to the change in lighting. Inside the bedroom is what you might expect—a bed frame, a bookshelf, a closet, some photographs, and a large chest sitting in the corner of it.

"What's... in there?" I ask, wary.

"Documents. Hospital records. Family history texts. I've never seen them, myself, but I remember my father speaking about them."

He gestures for me to approach it, and I do, kneeling before it and undoing the dusty latches. It's an old box, already aged before it, too, was abandoned, so I'm careful in pushing open the lid. It takes a bit of effort though, since it's heavy, and it'd even gotten itself stuck to the lip of its bottom half.

I sit up onto my knees and peer inside, Sasuke crouched beside me and doing the same. Inside the box is a stack of files and other documents that would likely take a long while to read through. I take the first file off the top and try to make out the writing before passing it to Sasuke. He unbinds the package, and reads from the first page.

"This folder has information on the people from our generation—I bet the other ones in there are the same for the previous generations."

"Our generation?" I repeat.

"Mine. My brother's. Yours." I swallow. "Your name is in here, Kari," he adds, looking surprised. I slide closer to him and hold the one side to free his other hand. He quickly flips through it to find my section, and I learn it's much thicker than the one for him or a "Itachi Uchiha"—his brother? "But a lot of your information was redacted.

My section of the folder contains three manifestos, the first of which contains a photo of me. Here, I am at least seven years old, standing on the porch of our cabin in the Hidden Snow. This must've been at least five years ago? And, "This must've been just before..."

"I think so, too."

"But... how did he have this? Does this mean... the Uchiha always knew where I was? Or... was Makara sending them photos and information about me to them?"

"I don't know," Sasuke says. "Though I don't doubt that Itachi wasn't involved, somehow." I look at him, and somehow I begin recalling our first introductions to one another. It all suddenly clicks into place, what he'd meant by the words he'd used that day.

"Sasuke... is your brother still alive?" He looks away from me, silent. "I... I'll help you, then. I'll help you get your revenge."

His head snaps back almost too quickly. "What are you talking about?" he says. "I don't need your help with anything."

"Yeah? Are you going to stop me, then? Your hands might be a little full if you try."

"I—" Sasuke curses under his breath. "You don't need to feel guilty about anything, if that's—"

"There's a lot about this stuff that... I know I won't understand. The more we sift through it, the less sense it'll probably make to me. What I do know, though, is this—we're family, and it doesn't matter to me how distantly we're related, o-or by what percent. You're also someone I care about. I'd want to do anything to help you. It's... not guilt I'm feeling. I don't think it's pity, either."

Before he can protest any further, I reach my arms around him from the side and squeeze. As if on instinct, he starts to wriggle, hands rising to fit both sets of fingers between the ones that have clamped onto his shoulders. "I just... I can't bear to see you do something so scary all on your own!"

I'm startled that he goes still, though his fingers still remain poised. I'm relieved all the same; my wounds were beginning to ache from the strain. "Kari..." Sasuke sighs at me. I sigh back, and lean my head against his.

"... you aren't alone," I tell him. "So let me be there for you."

He doesn't argue, doesn't bite words at me, doesn't remove my arms from him. He simply turns his attention back onto the dossier in his lap, his lower lip drawn between his teeth, and reads to himself.

Sometimes I'd find myself wondering, even before I learned we were related, if having a sibling was kind of like how it was to know and be around Sasuke. Watching him argue and bicker with Naruto had always been funny to me, like two brothers, but then thinking back on all of our interactions... I could compare it all with what I'd seen travelling through the village; I could even compare it to Sakura and Ino's relationship. Because mine and Sasuke's dynamic has always been funny, too. We could go from helpful and supportive, and then there'd be the times that I weirded him out (on purpose, of course).

Would... our dynamic change now? Even after what I'd just said to him now. How differently does Sasuke treat his family? How did he treat his elder brother before the incident? And how was he treated? Would the others notice the difference? Oh... Should we even tell the others? If that Itachi is still alive, is it even safe to? Who else could I even talk to about this? Maybe... Kakashi-sensei? Since... I can't talk to Lord Third...

"Kari." Sasuke calling for me as if I'd been far away jolts me out of my thoughts. I had been far away. "Look."

"Y... Yeah," I say, and I look down at the new photo pinned to the back of the folder. A young, sickly girl sits in a bed, staring harshly at the camera— a girl with black hair and green eyes and unhealthily pale skin. It doesn't look like me, but then, it's unmistakably me. My fingers trace the girl's face, and I try hard then, to try and trigger that strange power that appeared after the preliminaries—to no avail.

"You actually look like an Uchiha here," he muses, though his voice seems a little hoarse. I nod in agreement.

And suddenly find myself not wanting to know what caused the change.

Updated June 10th, 2024 | 2,434 words