Cogito, ergo sum
Life as Hokage was never easy. Sacrifices sometimes had to be made, and appearances always kept up.
Before the Daimyō, Hiruzen was a docile man. He would bend at the waist and beg with sincerity, for gold was needed to sharpen the Leaf's teeth and to eat. Before his council, he was a stern and uncompromising creature, yet in the presence of the clan heads he was—for the most part—leniency and justice given form.
Yet, most importantly, to the rest of the world—friend and foe alike—Hiruzen was insurmountable. Indisputable.
Powerful.
At least, that's what he hoped to be.
With the events surrounding his reinstatement to office, his reign could only optimistically be said to be a stable one. Nor was it particularly pleasant. If he were honest, the Hokage longed for the day when his time in office would come to an end: a sentiment he felt no greater than now as he sensed Fugaku's aura barreling towards his office like a runaway train. The Uchiha was angry, that much was certain. His chakra roiled with malignancy, and killing intent radiated off his form in waves.
"Explain," the father demanded as he threw open the door and stepped past the threshold into the office. Hiruzen sighed as his bodyguards flickered into view in a suicidal attempt to stop the Wicked Eye dead in his tracks.
"I understand how you feel, Uchiha-san," Hiruzen said as he raised a hand to forestall what was most likely the start of a great tragedy. "But please," he continued, "remember there is a method to doing things like this. Don't be rash; there's a lot more at stake here than one bruised genin."
For a few desperate moments, Hiruzen held the Fugaku's attention, careful about meeting his baleful gaze. Then as suddenly as it rose, the tension in the air deflated. The Uchiha patriarch nodded once before stepping back to cross his balled fists across his chest.
"Please, explain what happened to my son, Hokage-sama," he repeated with the thin veneer of politeness and civility required for the conversation.
Hiruzen, relieved but weary, leaned back in his seat and massaged his temples to stave off an impending headache. "It was a training mishap," he explained, "and Yuna Inuzuka, the involved jonin, will face an inquiry once she's recovered and cleared by the medics."
Fugaku scoffed lightly under his breath. "A mishap?"
"Yes." Hiruzen nodded. "According to what we've gleaned from Itachi's report of the incident, and that of the few present, your son snuck up on his instructor during an evaluation and, startled, she might have overreacted. A fight broke out between the two which only ended when the instructor was able to convince Itachi that it wasn't an assassination attempt but an accident. Itachi, went on to incapacitate her with an illusionary technique before leaving the scene to tend to his injuries."
For a moment, it looked as if Fugaku was going to argue, but he unexpectedly paused before exhaling a tired sigh of his own.
"I would have preferred not to come to any conclusions without a proper investigation," Hiruzen continued, "but whatever Genjustu your son employed has proven troublesome to dispel so we have yet to extract a statement from Yuna. When she comes through, I believe it would be best you sit on the panel attending this matter."
"...Yes. That would be best," Fugaku replied as he turned to leave to Hiruzen's great relief. But just before he stepped out of the office the Uchiha spoke again.
"...I am heading to the hospital to check on her," he said.
Hiruzen frowned, baffled. "Her?"
Fugaku chuffed in response. "You said you've been unable to rouse the instructor, correct?"
"Yes?"
"Then, I think I have an inkling of what technique Itachi used: that kunoichi isn't waking up without his aid. I have to be there to ensure he does the needful."
***
Disinfectant and blood-laden air . . . that was all Yuna could smell. Even without her Clan's gift, it was an easily distinguishable place: The hospital. She did not enjoy coming here; too many bad memories. The overwhelming smell of medicinal odours and the general sterility of it all didn't help, but the memories were what bothered her the most.
With a bone-popping stretch, she sat up, ignoring the distantly inaudible, yet undoubtedly worried protests of the medic-nin beside her. Turning her head down to one side she smacked the other side a few times until her eardrums popped and her hearing returned to her.
"...You ok? Are you ok? Inuzuka-san? Inuzuka-san? Can you hear me?"
Yuna recoiled from the medic beside her. "Sages," she squawked. "It's ok, you can stop shouting now. I can hear you."
"Oh, that's good," the medic exhaled in relief. "How are you feeling?"
"Sore… What happened? Why am I so sore?"
"You've been unconscious for some time, Inuzuka-san," the medic replied.
Baffled, Yuna felt one of her brows arch in response. "How long have I been under?" she asked.
"Three days."
…
The next few hours were especially weird.
The medics were adamant about observing her for a few hours more before finally freeing her to be accosted by the goons from the intelligence division.
"What was the nature of the illusions you were subjected to?" one faceless operative asked.
Yuna stared at the fellow for a long moment before answering. "Subtle," she said. "The technique was alarmingly refined and subliminal. Had it not been for his general inexperience and his mediocre understanding of the composition of natural scents and how they intermingled in each given scenario I might have not even suspected I was trapped in Genjutsu in the first place."
"Since you were aware why didn't you break out earlier?" the fellow asked.
"I couldn't," Yuna drawled, picking at the bandages wrapped around her palm. "It was easier at first to dispel it in the first few seconds of the fight when my guard was up, but when I dropped my defences to get him to understand I wasn't trying to kill him for whatever reason it felt like I was dealing with an entirely different opponent… It was strange, knowing fully well that I was in Genjustu and breaking it only to realise I hadn't yet."
"To be honest," Yuna confided in the man, "I am not even sure any of this is real."
"...You are not sure?"
She shrugged. "The smells work fine now," she said. "But how am I sure he hadn't just gotten better at that as well?" Yuna looked up to meet the gaze of the man across from her. "How am I sure you haven't gotten better at that as well?"
For a few moments, the shinobi stared at her, visibly confused. Then his features gradually smoothened out, the edge of his lips curling in a slight smile.
A pair of three-tomoe Sharingan stared back at her calmly.
"How?" Yuna asked with a tired exhale.
The monster's smile grew a smidgen larger as he allowed the scene to dissolve into nothingness. A lightless void now surrounded them.
"The human brain is an incredibly powerful organ," Itachi began with a rather perplexing nonsequitur. "Currently, the most powerful computer in the world might only be capable of achieving sustained performance in the range of a few tens to hundreds of teraflops. Guess how the human brain compares?"
Yuna stared at the boy, her confusion mounting.
He laughed, apparently finding her expression amusing. "Forgive me, Sensei," he said, "I have always wanted to try this monologue thing; it's pretty fun. Anyways, as I was saying, the human brain consists of approximately 86 billion neurons, each connected to thousands of other neurons, forming a highly complex network. Neurons communicate through electrical impulses and chemical signals, allowing for the processing and storage of vast amounts of information simultaneously.
"In terms of raw processing power, the human brain's capacity is estimated to be immense, capable of performing trillions of calculations per second. Most civilian brains are capable of a few hundred trillion teraflops. The average jonin? A few hundred quadrillion. That is more than enough processing power to create entire virtual realities so realistic they are statistically impossible to disprove as false. You aren't breaking out of this, Yuna-sensei. Especially not when I am actively reallocating the same brainpower required to rationalise and break free of this illusion to reinforce said illusion."
"...You mean?"
"Yes. You broke free of "my" Genjutsu a long time ago, Yuna-sensei. What you are currently battling with is your own subconscious. And what you are conversing with now is a virtual copy of my consciousness created with clever manipulation of Yin-release; it will remain embedded in your subconscious, running simulations, gathering data, and generally keeping your brain too busy to do anything else but keep your body alive. And it will continue to do this until my real body returns to uninstall it and collect all the data amassed throughout the duration of its runtime."
"...Huh," Yuna replied eloquently. "That's actually pretty cool. But aren't you worried about me knowing too much? You do know you have to let me go eventually, right?"
Itachi laughed again. "I control the part of your brain that handles memory, Yuna-sensei, so what do you think?" he asked, his tone polite. "Regardless, you are a wonderful learning aid; I look forward to us spending more time together."
***
Fugaku stopped beside the unconscious Inuzuka woman, a frown on his face.
"She was telling the truth," he said, turning to face his son. "Then why is she still unconscious, Itachi?"
Itachi looked up to meet his gaze, holding it for a moment before looking away, suitably chastised. "I needed to know how she broke free of my illusions as easily as she did," he replied.
"Well?" Fugaku inquired, one of his brows arching in expectation.
"It won't happen again, sir."
Fugaku stared at his son for another long moment before giving a resolute nod. It didn't matter what Itachi meant, as long as there wasn't a repeat, Fugaku would be content.
"She would be queried on her behaviour in a few hours," the Patriarch said, moving on. "Do you want me to intervene?"
Itachi said nothing for a few moments, lost in thought. "She's competent," he declared finally. "I would prefer to be on her team."
"...You are certain?"
"Yes," Itachi replied. "I know this woman better than her clan does at the moment; I think I will be fine."