Uchiha Hisana had a beautiful name that apparently once matched her personality. It was said she had been bold, vivacious, and even looked quite lovely back in the day.
Now a wrinkled old hag in every sense of the word, Hisana had swiftly established herself as the obligatory old, crotchety crone every large family seemed required to have. Life had soured her personality and loss had made her bitter. Since she’d buried her granddaughter, she had become the Uchiha clan grinch.
The children secretly called her, ‘Grandma Ghoul’.
She was older than the founding of Konoha, a whole twenty years older than their Sandaime, and Zuko was a hundred percent sure his father has been hoping she’d pop off the mortal coil any day now.
It’s been fourteen years since Fugaku first started wishing - the same number of years since he's been clan head and listening to Hisana’s complaints became his responsibility – and it still hasn’t happened yet.
Maybe when they left Konoha, they could leave her behind?
…Well, it was a nice ten seconds while that fantasy lasted.
Now, Hisana had taken it upon herself to list the myriad of ways in which their defection was going to blow up in their faces:
Their provisions would run out and they would leave Konoha only to starve to death.
(How incompetent would a ninja clan have to be to die of starvation of all things?)
The Uchiha would get caught and half the clan would escape, only for the other half to become hostages.
(Zuko secretly thought that if Hisana was in the latter group, the people who successfully defected would consider half the clan an acceptable price to be rid of her.)
Or they would be discovered, all the adults slaughtered, and the children would be raised as brainwashed drones loyal only to the Leaf.
As the expert of all things with face-exploding properties, Zuko thought she was overdoing it.
“Sora-ku is far too obvious a place to go,” Hisana’s derisive croaky voice echoed through the underground room.
The most experienced and skilled members of the clan met in the tiny chamber beneath the tatami shrine for utmost privacy. Regrettably, said chamber was very small and the air very stale.
Also unfortunately, experienced meant the senior clan members, and the room had gained that distinctive Eau de Elder smell that never failed to give Zuko a headache. He had even secretly snuck back in to air it out with wind ninjutsu, and yet the smell still lingered tenaciously.
“Well we certainly can’t go to another village. While Cloud would happily take us, I’ll give them the sharingan over my dead body.”
A rumble of agreement sounded from the others.
“Sand would be obligated to turn us over to protect their alliance, and I’m not about to gamble on them judging our worth to be greater than Konoha’s. And don’t even get me started on Iwa.”
No one bothered to mention Kiri.
“Hah! As if Onoki would allow us to step a single foot inside their grimy mountain. He’d think it some Konoha ploy.”
“And they still hold a grudge against Wicked-Eye Fugaku,” one of his father’s sycophants said with pride.
Zuko prevented his eyes from rolling through sheer force of will.
Listening to the clan debate back and forth about where to relocate was a trial of patience and really hammered in what snobs Zuko’s family were. According to them, no village was good enough for the esteemed Uchiha.
Suna was full of sand and were struggling through a job crisis, barely able to keep their own people fed. Iwa was a craggy hole in a mountain hardly a step up from a cave, and ruled by a geezer even older than Sarutobi.
Kumo – the current top dog of the elemental nations – was militarily powerful enough to prevent Konohan reprisals and greedy for doujutsu. Yet no one wanted to join up with a village led by the brutish and power-hungry A.
If you only listened to the Uchiha, one would think that every hidden village was either a collection of crumbling shacks or infested with power-hungry, stubborn old men.
Considering the state of Konoha’s own leaders, Zuko sadly couldn’t say they were entirely incorrect either. Which of course meant they had a problem; where the hell were they going to go?
“There is a place where one clan ruled, once,” Mikoto spoke softly, yet her voice halted all debate. Her tone was oddly hushed, reverent.
“Uzushio.”
Zuko let out a whoosh of air.
The Uzumaki had been a large clan once feared for their sealing prowess. When it came to fuuinjutsu, the Uzumaki were unmatched in the entire world.
And that was the problem – they were fuuinjutsu specialists, and that’s what killed them in the end.
Learning sealing was a long process that required a lot of sitting around and studying – not exactly things that improve one’s shinobi abilities. While seals made for fantastic supplementary devices, without the reflexes or ability keep calm and use them in battle, they were useless.
Essentially, most of the Uzumaki had been researchers. They relied upon the swirling eddies and their barriers for defence, and when faced with an onslaught of Kiri and Kumo-nin, those barriers were overrun and consequently Uzushio fell.
There had been fearsome shinobi amongst their number, even S-rank ninja, but even they fell to numbers eventually - especially when trying to protect those around them.
“Whirlpool island was chosen as the Uzumaki’s ancestral home for a very good reason; it’s surrounded on all sides by nigh impassable seas and it’s small enough to be defended by a single clan while still having enough land to support us.”
Uchiha Tetsuya – the resident historian/librarian of the clan – hummed in thought.
“Whirlpool also has no daimyo. The land remains unclaimed by any political entity to this day, so we won’t even have to notify the local lord of our relocation.”
Several people (Hisana most of all) were sceptical; the Uzumaki couldn’t defend themselves and were all killed in the end, why should the Uchiha go somewhere where it was proven to fail?
But Uzushio had needed two massive armies from both Kiri and Iwa to invade, as well as a huge number of resources and ships from the Water Daimyo to ferry them all past the whirlpools. And even then, it was a pyrrhic victory. The Uzumaki had killed far more than anyone thought possible when faced with such an enormous numeric disadvantage.
With the current state of the nations – Kiri embroiled in civil war, Iwa still recovering from losing entire generations to the Yondaime Hokage, Konoha clinging to their do-gooder image, Suna trying desperately to stay afloat, and Kumo lacking the naval power - Uzushio was a prime defensive location.
Plus, living there meant the Uchiha would be beholden to no one, would have to rely upon and trust only themselves; and to a clan who felt so thoroughly betrayed by their own leaders, this was the deciding factor that convinced them.
With the destination chosen, then came all the logistical issues of which there were many.
Whirlpool was a ruin; there were crumbling buildings covering the island, old jutsu damage, and remnants of seals and traps hidden amongst the wreckage. It would be an extensive and dangerous operation to clean up.
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Then there was the issue of building afterwards. The clan was going to need new houses to live in when they arrived, there’s no way everyone could camp out in the elements with all the elderly and young children. Except…
“…Do we need to leave everything behind?” Shisui mused thoughtfully from where he was seated next to Zuko. “I mean, why can’t we just bring the entire district?”
Silence fell as the Defection Planning Committee all pondered his words.
“I’m not sure,” Uchiha Midori – who had once been Midori of no clan but was trusted because she’d had Uchiha teammates, husband, kids and grandkids – mused. “If we sealed away all the buildings; even if we did it all at once and then immediately legged it, people would notice and catch us.”
“Not if we were already gone!” one of the jounin piped up excitedly. “I went on a mission with this guy from T&I once, Morino Ibiki. He was able to summon an entire torture chamber. If we’re all out safely first, we can summon the compound afterwards.”
“I can ask the Cats how the Reverse Summoning Technique works and see if we can modify it,” Kana, the resident summoner offered.
“I’ll dig through the sealing manuals,” Tetsuya agreed, stroking his chin in contemplation, despite the fact he had never been able to grow a beard after a mishap with fire jutsu in his youth; his chin was perpetually bald. “I’m sure it’s possible, the only question is whether or not it’s practical.”
The meeting concluded with a tangible feeling of progress, and it was with high spirits that Zuko left with his cousin at his side, the latter in deep thought. It was several minutes into their walk home through the familiar paths lined with gently glowing lanterns that Shisui finally spoke what was weighing on his mind:
“Is there really no other way?”
The younger shinobi was silent for a long moment.
“If there is, I can’t see it. Not as things are.”
Shisui smiled humourlessly. “It just… it doesn’t feel right. To simply cast aside the village. I mean, Konoha is-“
His cousin was uncharacteristically tongue-tied as he tried to articulate what he was feeling.
“The people are good. Obviously not everyone and they’re not perfect, but they’re –“ Shisui struggled to come up with a proper description that could encapsulate the feeling of patriotism and loyalty to one's home.
“I know.”
It was heartfelt because Zuko did know. He had once loved the Fire Nation with the same fervour, felt the same pride, devotion and sense of duty that Shisui felt towards Konoha. He had always loved the Fire Nation, even when that love had not been returned; even when there were more reasons for him to turn away than to remain steadfast. If he was reborn again a thousand times, Zuko thought he would still consider the Fire Nation his home.
He really liked Konoha too; the village itself with its quaint wooden houses surrounded by countless trees and paved streets. His asshole ANBU comrades who had grown on him with all their quirks and occasional outrageous personalities. Konoha was also home, the only one he’d known in this life.
“I wish it didn’t have to come to this either. But it doesn't alway have to be. We’re not turning on the Leaf and we won’t be selling secrets or endangering the village. We’ll just be relocating, perhaps even temporarily.”
Zuko bumped his shoulder against Shisui’s when he continued to look morose.
“You know the clan loves the village too. Nobody wants to leave, and we can always come back.”
“You think so?”
“Yes,” Zuko said with complete certainty. “With new leadership in Konoha, if we solve the mystery of that asshole who keeps popping in and out of the clan grounds casting suspicion on us, and with a new generation of people who haven’t experienced the antagonism on both sides, I believe we’ll be able to achieve real peace.”
If the Uchiha and Senju could unite after centuries of warfare, if the four nations had managed to reconcile in his last life, then peace was always possible. It just needed the right circumstances and people genuinely working towards it.
“We need to properly address the issues we have with one another and solve them, but the nature of shinobi is to hide everything that could be a weakness. Often that is necessary, but it also means wounds linger and fester instead of being healed. We need to openly talk about our stances and work towards a solution that benefits both parties. But right now, with the leaders we have and the unstable political climate… I think distance is the best move. The only option we have that doesn’t devolve into violence.”
“I get it, I really do." Shisui ran a hand through his unruly hair. “It’s just – this is my home.”
The younger Uchiha felt his heart pang at the desolation in his cousin’s tone. To feel like an outsider in your own home, to not belong despite desperately wishing to; Zuko knows the feeling all too well.
“I had thought- “ Shisui cut himself off before glancing around guiltily. “I had thought to put the clan under a genjutsu,” he told him in a hushed voice, “to convince them not to spring the coup.”
Zuko stared. He himself was lauded as a prodigy at illusions, yet he had nothing on Shisui’s talent for them. It was familiar feeling, to be so thoroughly outclassed by a relative; it was honestly rather nostalgic.
But even ignoring all the moral implications of brainwashing their family (though Zuko understood, he'd once had Azula as a sister after all)-
“Would that really have helped?” he asked his cousin, voice just as quiet.
Shisui looked exhausted. “Yeah. I know.”
The distrust of the citizens, the discrimination amongst the ranks against the Uchiha had been building for years. And even with the idea of the coup purged from the clan’s minds and the fickle public opinion swayed - the Hokage and his council would never forget.
Shisui breathed out, rolling his shoulders and looking like he was resolving himself.
“Okay Itachi. We’ll do things your way.”
Tension Zuko didn’t realise he had left him. He felt the weight of Shisui’s trust, and he vowed he would prove himself worthy of it. Shisui loved his village, his country – but he also loved his family.
“You know, if we pull this off…”
Shisui turned to look Zuko straight in the eyes, face solemn.
“You’ll be able to call yourself the White-Fire Weasel of Whirlpool.”
Zuko boggled at his friend.
"Thank you, Shisui, for your words of wisdom," he finally said sarcastically. "You always manage to put the important things into perspective."
"Hehe," Shisui smiled, mischief replacing solemnity. "I think so too."
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“Nii-san!” Sasuke’s sandalled feet slapped on the hard floor as he burst in, rousing Zuko from his deep contemplation. “I brought a bento for you!”
The other Uchiha straightened in his seat, touched by the gesture. “Thank you, Sasuke.”
Shisui also perked up. “Yeah, thanks Sasuke! Itachi’s brooding was getting unbearable.”
Said Uchiha shot him a glare.
“I don’t brood,” he said unconvincingly. Zuko glanced down at the items in his hands. “You brought an extra one.”
Sasuke shot him a look like he was being dim. “That’s for Shisui.”
The older brother refrained from gritting his teeth. “Shisui doesn’t deserve a bento.”
He put on a smile, only for it to turn into a frown as his cousin draped himself dramatically over his shoulders.
“Sasuke!” the curly-haired Uchiha whined. “Your brother is being so mean to me! You’ll let me have one, right?”
The eight-year-old nodded primly. “Of course, kaa-san said it was for you.”
“I can always count on you and Mikoto-sama, Sasuke!” Shisui cheered as he grabbed a box and opened it, rubbing his hands in glee at the smell that greeted his nose. Zuko protested half-heartedly causing Sasuke to frown disapprovingly.
“Nii-san, just because you failed your stealth exercise doesn’t mean you should take it out on Shisui.”
“It was his fault,” Zuko replied instantly, then frowned. “What stealth exercise?”
“The one last night,” Sasuke said like it was obvious. “Why else would you be sneaking into Shisui’s house with all your gear at two in the morning?”
Zuko contemplated telling his little brother he had been planning to rudely interrupt Shisui’s sleep by staging an assassination – just to keep him on his toes, not because he was holding a petty grudge or anything – but thought better of it.
“You’re right,” he agreed, “it was a stealth exercise.”
“But nii-san, you really overdid it. You got arrested!”
And indeed, the conversation between the three clan members was being held with two of them behind iron bars, complete with chakra suppression seals painted on the stone floor and walls. The small cell contained both Zuko and Shisui, the teens squished together on a wooden bench.
“Sasuke,” the former Fire Lord said sagely, regarding his little brother earnestly. “You should always put your full effort into everything you do, especially if it's training. That way, when it’s the real thing you’ll preform even better.”
Sasuke frowned sceptically. “Akemi-san said you destroyed her kitchen.”
Zuko’s brow twitched. “I… scuffed up Shisui’s wall. It just so happens Akemi-san’s kitchen shared that wall.”
Shisui chortled happily, unconcerned with the destruction of his house as his chopsticks placed a juicy piece of pork in his mouth. Sasuke was about to respond when the sound of a door swinging on its hinges could be heard.
“Uh-oh,” Sasuke's whisper warned them as his eyes darted over. “It’s Otou-san.”
Fugaku didn’t find his eldest child’s predicament nearly as amusing as Shisui did, and the Police Chief was wearing a familiar frown as he stared down at the mulish look of his son and the goofy grin of his nephew, both locked behind bars in a cell at the police station.
“Sasuke,” Fugaku placed a hand on his second son’s shoulder as he regarded his eldest. He sighed.
“Don’t grow up to be like your brother.”
Fugaku had been furious when he was called into the station after receiving news that his son and heir had been arrested for disturbing the peace. Zuko had been treated to a heated tirade about the clan's precarious position, and that this was the time for unity, not childish antics.
Zuko had argued childish antics was exactly what the clan needed to keep suspicion off them, because surely if they were doing things like this, it was because they were carefree and obviously not fomenting rebellion. It was also a good display against the accusations of nepotism, for the clan heir and his cousin to be treated the same as anyone else when caught disturbing the peace.
Plus, Zuko added, he had shown great unity and loyalty by sparing Shisui grievous, yet well-deserved injury - solely for the clan’s sake.
Fugaku had looked grudgingly half-convinced until that last bit.
“Come on. Your mother’s waiting for us at home.”
Sasuke left with a parting wave as Fugaku guided him out of the cold concrete cell block. Zuko sulked as the door swung shut behind them.
“This is your fault,” he grumbled, picking up his own bento.
Shisui was far too cheerful for someone languishing in prison.
“Sure, sure, whatever you say little cousin. And you know-" he turned to look at him. "Since my house is being repaired, I'll be needing a place to stay for a while."
The older Uchiha beamed. "I guess this makes us both prison buddies and roommates! Which also means more of Aunt Mikoto's amazing cooking." His eyes glittered. "You really have the best ideas, Itachi!"
The look on Zuko's face must have been extraordinarily expressive, because Shisui couldn't control his expression anymore and promptly lost it.