<3rd Person Pov>
They were on their way to their first stop — an old gas station a few miles ahead. The ride stayed quiet, the low hum of the engine filling the silence as Itachi drove and Daryl sat beside him, watching the road roll by.
Daryl glanced over, one hand resting on the door. "You sure this is your first time?"
Itachi hesitated, eyes still on the road. "I think so."
Daryl blinked. "You think so? How the hell don't you know if you've ever driven a car before?"
Itachi just shrugged, the corners of his mouth twitching faintly. He wasn't sure how to explain it — he hadn't, but maybe the body had.
Daryl muttered under his breath. "Weirdo." He leaned back in his seat, the silence stretching a moment before he spoke again. "I gotta ask… what's up with your eyes?"
Itachi shot him a quick glance. "What do you mean?"
"Aw, come on," Daryl said. "When your eyes went all red back in the shed. You some kinda bloodsucker or what? Would sure explain a hell of a lot..."
Itachi's grip on the wheel tightened slightly. "I'm not a vampire. And what's that supposed to mean?"
Daryl shrugged. "Hell if I know, man. I'm just sayin'. Last I checked, people's eyes don't go glowin' red."
Itachi went quiet for a moment, trying to find the right words. "It happens when I push my vision to its limit," he said finally. "Everything sharpens — clearer, faster. It's like the world slows down for a few seconds."
Daryl looked at him, his mouth slightly open. "You realize how damn crazy that sounds, right?"
He sat back, shaking his head with a laugh that was more disbelief than humor. "First the dead start walkin', now you got damn super eyes." He paused. "Hold up… you think there's a chance I got somethin' too?"
Itachi smiled. "You did — sharp tongue and a short temper."
Daryl stared at him for a second, then snorted. "Smartass."
Itachi continued. "Those eyes… they're something innate to my clan."
Daryl frowned, rubbing the back of his neck. "Man, this shit's gettin' too complicated."
Itachi gave a quiet chuckle. "My clan's called the Uchiha," he said. "We're all connected by blood — generations of the same family. Those eyes are something we're born with, a trait passed down through us."
Daryl blinked. "So lemme get this straight… y'all got the same last name, and there's more of you out there with them weird-ass eyes?"
Itachi nodded once. "Pretty much."
The thought alone made Daryl shudder at the idea that there was an entire clan of people like Itachi out there.
Itachi noticed. "You alright?"
"Yeah," Daryl muttered. "Just tryin' to wrap my head around it all."
After a while, Daryl spoke again. "Ain't never asked you before… you got any brothers or sisters?"
Itachi shook his head. "Just my parents."
Daryl nodded, waiting for more — but it didn't come.
Itachi's gaze drifted for a moment, his focus somewhere else entirely. He tried to remember their names, the ones that should've come easily. But there was nothing. Just a blank stretch of thought where something important should've been. Only two names surfaced — ones that didn't belong to him, yet felt carved into his mind. Fugaku. Mikoto.
He blinked, almost surprised by them, the sound of those names sitting strangely on his tongue.
Daryl glanced his way. "You good?"
"Yeah," Itachi said after a pause, voice distant. "Just… thinking."
But the look in his eyes said otherwise — like he'd reached for a piece of his past and found only empty air.
"Shit—stop the car!" Daryl said suddenly, his tone urgent.
Itachi's focus snapped back. He hit the brakes hard, the truck jolting to a stop.
Up ahead, a few hundred feet down the road, an old gas station sat at the edge of the trees. Two cars were parked out front, along the curb. Even from this distance, they could tell that they didn't look abandoned.
Daryl squinted towards the station. "What d'you wanna do?"
Itachi eased the truck off the road, guiding it behind a cluster of trees until it was mostly hidden from view. He killed the engine. "Let's check it out."
Daryl gave a short nod, reaching into the back seat. He grabbed his crossbow and passed the hunting rifle to Itachi.
Both men stepped out quietly, keeping low as their eyes locked on the gas station ahead.
Itachi dropped to the grass, setting the rifle down and peering through the scope while Daryl took cover behind a nearby tree.
"You see anything?" he whispered.
Itachi traced the building. The windows were dark at first — nothing moved. Then a shape flickered past the glass.
"There's movement inside," he said. "And it's not a walker. Too fast."
Daryl's voice came low. "You think they heard us?"
"Maybe," Itachi murmured, still watching. "There's a good chance they—" He froze mid-sentence.
Two men appeared in his scope, dragging a pair of struggling kids out the front door. Their screams were muffled and desperate as they kicked and fought to break free, but the men kept hauling them towards one of the cars.
Daryl was already moving, loading a round into his crossbow. "Yeah, they ain't the friendly type."
Itachi steadied his aim on one of the men. "Be careful. There could be more inside."
"Yeah, I know," Daryl muttered, eyes locked on the station.
Itachi tracked the two men as they shoved the girls into the back seat and slammed the door. A flash of blonde hair in the window caught his attention—two small shapes pressed together—but the thought passed quickly as he fixed his aim on the men.
The men turned back towards the station.
Itachi exhaled slowly, the world slowing around him. His vision sharpened until every movement seemed to stretch—the sway of the men's steps, the faint tremor in their arms, even the dust twisting through the air.
The second their paths aligned in his sight, he pulled the trigger.
Two sharp cracks cut through the silence. Both men lurched forward, collapsing almost in sync as dark blood began to spill down the pavement.
Inside the station, voices snapped to the front.
One man stood frozen, staring at the two bodies lying motionless in front of him.
"Tom? Cole?" he muttered, disbelief twisting his voice.
The man beside him grabbed his jacket and yanked him down. "Get the hell down!"
One of them crouched low, inching towards the window. His breath fogged against the dusty glass as he leaned closer, trying to see what was out there. For a heartbeat, everything was still—then the glass exploded outward with a sharp crack. He dropped instantly, blood splattering across the tiles as shards of glass rained down around him.
One of the men bolted towards the back exit. "Screw this, I ain't dying here!" he shouted, scrambling for the door.
"Wait, don't open it!" another yelled, panic cracking his voice as he tried to stop him.
But he didn't listen. His hands shook as he fought with the lock until he finally wrenched it open. He stumbled into the daylight—
A sharp thwip cut through the air.
He froze mid-step, then dropped forward as a bolt was pierced through the side of his head.
"That stupid bastard…" the same man hissed, aiming his pistol at the door, with trembling hands.
A faint clink echoed near the front. Something rolled across the tile, tapping once against a rack before spinning to a stop — a glass bottle.
Two of the men turned towards the sound. One raised his gun, the other gripped a rusted metal pipe.
The man with the pipe started to speak. "We—"
His voice cut off as steel punched through his throat, the blade driving clean through the shelf beside him. He choked once, before sliding to the floor as the weapon withdrew into the shadows behind the rack.
"Mark?" the other man spun towards the noise just as the shelf groaned and tipped. His eyes barely caught his friend's body on the floor before the whole thing crashed down on him, knocking him flat, his pistol slipping from his hand and skidding across the floor.
Daryl slipped in through the back, pistol raised. The man guarding the door turned too late, distracted by the commotion behind him. Three quick shots echoed, and he went down before he could even aim.
And now only one heartbeat answered — the trapped man beneath the shelf, breath hitching as his fingers stretched towards the pistol lying just out of reach.
A sharp whistle cut through the air, followed by a heavy thunk. A kunai slammed through his hand and into the floor, pinning it there. The man screamed, the sound breaking into a hoarse gasp as his other hand clawed uselessly at the ground.
Itachi stepped into view, the blade in his hand still dripping with crimson blood as the room fell silent around him, every sound swallowed by the weight of his presence. His face stayed still—no anger, no mercy—just that hollow emptiness.
The pinned man lay there trembling, unable to look away—then, out of the corner of his eye, he caught movement. Another scavenger crept up behind Itachi, bat raised high, ready to swing.
Itachi didn't turn. He drew his pistol in one smooth motion, keeping his eyes on the man pinned to the floor. A single shot cracked through the station. The scavenger with the bat dropped before he could swing.
Smoke drifted from the barrel as Itachi shifted his aim downward. The pinned man's breath hitched, terror swallowing his words.
And another shot. Then silence.
When it was finally over, Itachi and Daryl regrouped near the back door, checking each room before stepping out into the open air. The two cars still sat where they'd been left.
Daryl moved first, circling to the vehicle where the girls had been shoved. He pulled the door open slowly.
Inside, two little girls huddled together on the back seat, clutching each other so tightly it was hard to tell where one ended and the other began. Their faces were streaked with tears, eyes wide and wet with fear.
Itachi stopped a few feet away, the sight freezing him where he stood. Recognition hit like a punch to the chest. Blonde hair. Small faces he'd seen before, but younger now.
Lizzie… and Mika.
He muttered. "Fuck…"
The word hung in the air, swallowed by the quiet.
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🧪 Author's Note:
I'll probably skip a day of uploading tomorrow so I can go through all the suggestions you guys sent me — I really want to improve the action scenes since I just don't feel like they're good enough yet.
And before anyone asks how Lizzie, Mika would have arrived at Woodbury and where their father is, most of it will be explained in the next chapter.
If you've got any questions about the story or the characters, drop them below — I'll do my best to answer every one.
Let me know what you thought of this chapter — did you enjoy it, or not so much? Your feedback always helps me make the story better.
🖤 Thanks again for reading!