Hiruzen removed the pipe from his mouth and looked at Danzou, who had visited his office again.
"Nine months he's been in Anbu, hm?" said the Hokage, taking a drag.
"What about?" Danzou asked innocently.
"You know exactly. Every time you come to me—it's about Uchiha Itachi."
Hiruzen had seen through him, and it infuriated Danzou. He hated when people read him like an open book.
"You took a Uchiha into Anbu besides Itachi, didn't you, Hiruzen?"
"You mean Shisui?"
The Hokage narrowed his eyes.
"Precisely."
"That's in the past. You yourself insisted Shisui be sent to handle border skirmishes. What's the problem?"
"Yes, but still—you accepted a Uchiha into Anbu without consulting anyone."
"Did you come to lecture me, Danzou?"
"Certainly not."
The Root leader's face remained impassive.
"Shisui asked for full freedom of action."
"Since when does the Hokage obey a regular shinobi's wishes?"
"I just considered the feelings of someone not indifferent to the Uchiha clan situation."
"If you indulge everyone's desires, the village will fall apart."
"I know!" Hiruzen snapped irritably. "Enough beating around the bush—what do you want from me?"
"I want a Uchiha too."
"Want to take Itachi into Root?"
"God forbid. Never crossed my mind."
"You're kidding," the Hokage squinted suspiciously, deepening the elderly wrinkles around his eyes. "What are you after then?"
"Why not promote Itachi to captain?"
"But he's only eleven!"
"Anbu captains must be at least thirteen," Danzou smiled thinly. "You had that rule somewhere, right?"
The Hokage felt uneasy.
"Anbu is the village's foundation. A captain must make sound decisions..."
"Itachi is already capable."
"Debatable."
"What does age matter compared to real ability? Are rules that sacred, Hiruzen? The Uchiha elected a new leader. It won't be long before they talk coup again. We need someone who can effectively use Anbu and Root forces—someone tied to both me and you. Itachi can't ignore his captain's orders, so I propose promoting him to give him the necessary freedom."
"You want him as a link between you and me? Not take him into Root?"
"Exactly. You gave Shisui special privileges. I don't know what he was up to," Danzou gave him a meaningful look, "but his plan failed. Now it's Itachi's time. It'd be good to open all doors for him."
"But eleven years... He's too young to lead an Anbu team!"
Hiruzen wavered.
And now one little push...
"Hm. What if he were twelve?"
The Third Hokage fell silent.
"We change Itachi's publicly known age by a year, and... discreetly bypass the rule."
"I need to think."
Danzou smiled faintly.
Think. Think, Hiruzen. He'll turn twelve soon enough. I know you'll agree.
A oppressive atmosphere reigned at home. Everyone was crushed by the family head's removal. Grandfather had shut himself in his room and spoke to no one, while Grandmother wandered sad and not smiling at all. Sasuke didn't understand, but instinctively felt a dark cloud hanging over their family. Only Itachi hadn't changed. He was as sparing with words and emotions as ever and hardly appeared at home.
Sarada had barely relaxed when it all started again. Anxiety, sense of threat, shame... She mentally cursed Grandfather for giving her access to meetings. She didn't want to hear clansmen, didn't want to know. Even walking the district became scary. It felt like everyone stared and thought: "Adopted daughter of the deposed leader." And Sasuke must feel the same.
A few days after the fateful meeting, Mikoto asked Sarada to take Sasuke to the academy and pick him up: she feared letting him wander the district alone. One might think, so what if power changed in the Uchiha clan? But maternal instinct told Grandmother that hatred aimed at her husband might fall on her son.
Grumpy Sasuke trudged beside Sarada, bag slung over his shoulder. They left the district and headed to the academy. Homes basked in blinding sun, but the streets still held fresh morning air that chilled the skin.
"You won't be late for your mission?" Dad asked sullenly.
He hated being escorted to school by a girl, as if he couldn't stand up for himself.
"No missions today, just training."
Dad accepted the answer and fell silent.
"You won't be late for training?" he asked again, irritation undisguised.
"Listen, I didn't make this up. Mikoto-san asked me."
"She should've asked nii-san."
"He clearly has more to do than me. No time."
"Yeah, right," Sasuke grumbled.
Sarada stopped at the academy fence and watched her sulky little dad head to the doors.
Such a brat.
After seeing Sasuke off, she headed to the third training ground. That's where they'd agreed to meet Genma-sensei and the others. Training inspired Sarada more than missions. She naively thought missions in the past would be tougher, but they still sent them to catch cats and weed gardens.
I'm sick of these cats.
Complaining about unserious missions was so childish. But Sarada had completed plenty of D-rank missions in the future and clashed with serious opponents before academy graduation. Both her Team Nine teammates were far weaker, and Sarada was frankly bored.
She wasn't first to the meeting spot. In the shadow of the training log already sat silent Yoro, legs crossed.
"Hi," said Sarada.
Yoro looked up at her and nodded silently.
Is he still sulking? Damn, if I'd known I'd be teamed with him, I'd have picked a milder illusion.
Neither Genma-sensei nor Hodeki showed. Silent Yoro's presence weighed on Sarada, and finally she couldn't take it.
"Listen. Are you still mad at me?"
Yoro's eyes held a question.
"For what happened at graduation," she prompted.
He lowered his face again and kept silent. Strange kid. Exhausted, pale, taciturn. Sarada climbed atop the training log so her dress wouldn't get wet in the grass.
"Do it again," Yoro said suddenly.
Sarada stared in surprise at his spiky head.
"Do what?"
"Genjutsu."
Yoro kept staring at the dew-wet grass, not turning.
Is he a masochist?
"You sure?"
"Yes."
He stood and met her eyes. A hunted gaze, but firm as stone.
"If you insist..."
Why not. Overcoming weakness is manly.
Sharingan activated instantly. Sarada didn't even dismount the log. No horrors this time—genjutsu was art of controlling reality, not just nightmares.
At Yoro's feet, the earth bulged. He leaped back, kunai ready.
*Why kunai,* Sarada thought wearily. *It's genjutsu.*
The earth kept loosening on its own, forming something like a mole hole.
Now hearing.
A creature emerged from the hole, snorting. Round, plump, with short clawed legs. Its stone body was moss-covered, like that woman who carried Sarada from the road to the graveyard into the deity's home. The creature shook itself and rubbed dirt from its eyes with a paw. Its head blended smoothly into the body. Black round eye sockets on the face, mouth a thin line.
Yoro hurled several shuriken at it. They sank deep into the earth, but in Yoro's reality, they clanged off the stone body and ricocheted away. The little beast grumbled offendedly and tilted its head questioningly.
"Hey!" Sarada protested. "Don't hurt it."
But Yoro was determined. He charged the animated stone idol. The creature fearfully opened its small mouth, squeaked, and waddled away clumsily. Sarada giggled. But then her stone beast tripped and sprawled on the ground. It flipped onto its back, scooting backward as if that could save it from the fatal strike. Everything inside her dropped. Laughter turned to anxiety and fear for the illusory creation. It was damn stupid, but for a moment Sarada imagined her imagination was real. Her sharpened sense of justice boiled in her blood.
Ruthless kid. The little guy did nothing to you...
Yoro slashed the air full-force with his kunai. Sarada kept controlling the illusion. In Yoro's mind, the blade tip chipped on the stone body. The creature was unscathed.
*In my reality, you can't harm it. Crazy. Why chase an illusion? You know it's genjutsu! Fine, lesson time.*
Vestibular...
Hearing...
Yoro rose warily. The ground trembled underfoot. He glanced back cautiously. A massive version of the same creature advanced on him.
*Bully the baby? Meet mama.*
The gigantic stone bulk halted before Yoro; he craned his neck, eyes huge with terror.
"Hey, Yoro."
He whipped his head toward her.
"What are you doing?" Sarada asked in a bored voice.
Yoro didn't answer.
"It's genjutsu. It all exists only in your imagination. It isn't real."
Panic in his eyes faded a bit. Yoro tentatively touched the stone behemoth's belly. Sarada dutifully linked tactile receptors for her victim.
*Feel it. Feel the stone's cold, unevenness, roughness, soft moss...*
"But it is..." he said incredulously.
"Didn't they teach you at the academy how to counter genjutsu?" Sarada marveled.
"They did."
Her teammate seemed to grasp the illusory stone idol wasn't attacking and fully obeyed Sarada, who chatted peacefully with him, Yoro.
"But at the academy, it was obvious it was genjutsu," he kept stroking the nonexistent stone beast's cold belly. "Nothing like... this. It's real. I see it, hear it, feel it... It looks at me like it's alive."
Uncle's lessons came alive in memory.
*There are two genjutsu creation paths. First—confuse, make doubt everything around. Second—immerse unnoticed, far harder.*
Sarada had used the second.
"Why fight it?" Sarada wondered. "You knew it was genjutsu."
"No..."
"But you asked me to create..."
"Yes, but I thought you'd use ninjutsu. Summoning or earth element..."
"But we agreed on genjutsu! And how would I know doton?"
"You know raiton. It's too real. Not like illusion at all."
"Dispel it."
Sarada unconsciously mimicked her uncle. He'd once directed her the same way. Yoro focused, closed his eyelids.
"Kai!"
But Sarada felt her control unchanged. Yoro opened his eyes and saw the stone giant again. The baby sidled up behind and tugged his pant leg with a paw. Yoro startled and shook his leg.
"Didn't work. Can't you break genjutsu?"
"I can," Yoro said tensely. "It doesn't work."
"Again."
He prepared again.
"Kai!"
Still no. Sarada wouldn't yield or end it, and Yoro couldn't escape himself.
"This is Uchiha power," a male voice grated behind.
Sarada startled and turned. Genma-sensei hid his chakra perfectly. He stood behind the logs, senbon rolling in his teeth.
"Genjutsu of this level isn't escaped easily."
Genjutsu of this level...
Only now did Sarada first realize how far her genjutsu had advanced. Uncle only critiqued her illusions. Izumi learned to counter them. And now an outsider—not a genin kid, but jonin instructor—appraised Sarada's illusion.
Despair crossed Yoro's face. He swung his kunai and plunged the tip full-force into his palm. Either thinking it dulled from clashing with the idol's bulk, or realizing his weapon was fine and all illusion, trying to dispel a new way. Sarada felt control slipping over his mind. Excruciating hand pain overrode other senses; genjutsu receded. Yoro's act shocked her. She well remembered the slicing pain in her right palm during Danzou's torture. To deliberately injure himself like that...
Genma-sensei stared at him puzzled.
"Hm. Yes, a way," he muttered habitually through his teeth. "But it's just training. No need to go that far..."
Yoro yanked the kunai from his hand without a sound and looked around for the vanished stone creatures. Sarada felt a twinge of regret that her beasties were gone. She'd grown attached. In her imagination, they still lived—but she only truly believed in them when sharing visions with another.
"Besides, if it worked on Sarada," the instructor continued, "doesn't mean it'll work anytime. Some illusions amplify pain, make it unbearable. Remember that."
Sarada listened intently. She hadn't known that.
*Ask uncle.*
By nature, she was soft. She'd never added pain receptor control to illusions. Opponents were kids or family; she didn't want to hurt them. But learning the mechanism Genma-sensei described would be fascinating.
"Hey, guh'ys! We're late... Soh'ry."
Hodeki dashed onto the training ground, panting from the sprint. His wolf pup Taki panted too, pink tongue lolling.
"You trah'ning without us?" Hodeki whined, but spotted his teammate's bloody hand. "Whoa, Yoh'ro, what happened?"
***
Read the story months ahead of the public release — early chapters are available on my Patreon: Granulan