In the Hokage building, Sarutobi Hiruzen sat behind his desk, the wisps of pipe smoke curling around the room as he stared down at Inoichi, who knelt before him.
"Inoichi, how would you characterise Sasuke's current state?" The Third Hokage queried, weariness tinging his voice. His eyelids drooped slightly, a testament to the burdens of leadership he carried.
"Lord Third, I can't be entirely certain, given your order not to access his memories through our family's secret jutsu. Sasuke appears to be holding up, but..." Inoichi's words carried a note of caution.
"But what?" Hiruzen prompted.
"But, would you truly believe that a boy who just witnessed the genocide of his entire family and that at the hands of his brother would be fine? The very same brother who was Sasuke's role model. I suspect he's concealing his pain, which may lead to some 'unintended' consequences," Inoichi stated with conviction.
"Consequences? Are you referring to those eyes of his?" Hiruzen closed his eyes gently, countering Inoichi with another question.
"Yes. We know that the Sharingan of the Uchiha evolves significantly in strength in response to excessive sorrow or grief. It also brings about irreversible changes in a person's mentality. I'm concerned Sasuke might become a ticking time bomb because of this," Inoichi voiced his inner apprehension.
"So what? Do you suggest we eliminate him before he poses a threat? Inoichi, I understand your concern, especially with Ino being around him, but rest assured, we've confirmed that Sasuke hasn't manifested the Sharingan. While that may not be entirely foolproof, I've also placed him under Anbu surveillance," the Hokage assured.
"Thank you, Lord Third." Inoichi nodded with a sense of relief, his worries temporarily eased by the Hokage's reassuring words. However, in his hurry he didn't understand the apparent flaws that plagued the Hokage's words.
How could they truly be sure that the boy didn't awaken the Sharingan?
Through what method could they even deign to check such a thing?
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Sasuke swiftly exited the hospital, unmarked physically but with a lingering burden on his psyche, requiring scheduled returns to ensure his mental well-being.
Strolling through the animated streets of Konoha, Sasuke keenly observed his surroundings, sensing an unusual tension saturating the air. Whispers and furtive glances followed him, creating a peculiar atmosphere.
A street vendor, collecting some cabbages that dropped from his wooden cart, met his gaze, the mans eyes reflecting an emotion Sasuke couldn't be more familiar with. Something he had soon all too many times from friends and relatives in his previous life after the untimely death of his parents.
'Pity?' he speculated. He then realised his attire bore the unmistakable Uchiha clan symbol, a symbol once decorating the clothes of many people but now exclusive to him alone.
Disturbed by their attention, Sasuke quickened his pace, retracing the path to what was once his home through the memory in his head. The closer he got to the Uchiha compound, the more desolate the surroundings became, the pungent scent of blood intensifying.
Standing before the vacant Uchiha clan compound, Sasuke saw the aftermath of the massacre—all the were corpses removed, but bloodstains remained etched into the ground.
'Do they not realize what a normal kid would feel witnessing this scene? The blood of his very own family members staining the ground of his home.' Sasuke shook his head in disbelief, entering the desolate compound as he slowly began to understand why Sasuke acted like he did in the anime.
Passing the homes of the deceased, memories flooded back—the candy-offering grandmother, the big sister who trailed behind his older brother, and the guards who assisted him in mastering Ninjutsu when his father and brother were unavailable. The air grew heavier as he approached his home, the lingering scent of blood clinging to his senses. Standing before the entrance, an unexpected hesitation gripped him.
'Why am I like this? Those who died here weren't my parents. At least the memories I have with them shouldn't be mine. So why do I feel so frustrated standing here?'
Entering the quiet home, Sasuke navigated through the familiar halls until he reached his parents' room. The image of his warm-hearted mother and stern but secretly caring father briefly surfaced before morphing into a darker, bloodier scene.
In the room, the lifeless bodies of his parents lay as blood seeped from their still bodies, staining the wooden floor of the room in a dark crimson hue. A young boy, no older than 15, stood before them, wielding a blood-stained sword. Slowly, he turned towards Sasuke, words laced with a biting chill.
"If you want to kill me, despise me, hate me, and live a loathsome life."
The haunting image vanished from his mind, leaving an empty room in its wake.