A Glass Of Crimson Souls

30) crow's calling

They say that everything heals with time.

I can see where that comes from. There are days where I find myself smiling. I don't forget—I just temporarily don't remember. The omnipresent burden lifts just ever so slightly when I see Hiro's face light up, and I see in him: Itachi, Itachi, Itachi.

The memory of Itachi sustains me only briefly, and then I am plunged into that hole I always dig myself, that hole of resentment and fury and refusal to forgive him and refusal to forget him and ultimately the love that I know still pulls me so temptingly towards death as well—and then I see Hiro again, and I know.

Now is not the right time.

Uchiha Hiro was born four months after the end of Fourth Shinobi War. He was not born in a hospital. Doctors refused point-blank to admit the widow of Konoha's most infamous mass murderer—indeed, hardly anyone in Konoha could understand why he'd had a wife at all, why he'd had a child, and why the two who survived him were allowed to remain in Konoha peacefully for the rest of their days. Despite Miho's desire to remain alone, Tsunade was the one oversaw the birth and delivered Hiro. It was an act that Miho would forever be grateful for, given the complications during surgery when the umbilical cord had somehow wound itself around Hiro's neck. Tsunade had caught it in the nick of time, saving Hiro's life before it had even begun.

The truth behind Uchiha Itachi was not revealed. Those who knew it were surprised that Miho did not argue more for his vindication—in fact, it was Naruto who fought most vehemently for Itachi's exoneration, and it was none other than Miho, who, at that time eight months pregnant, cradled her swollen stomach and said in that toneless voice of hers:

"That's enough."

Naruto turned to her furiously. "It isn't enough! He saved Konoha twice! Destroying Edo-Tensei and convincing Sasuke to fight with us let us defeat Madara! I don't care if it means outing Konoha—everyone needs to know—"

"You do not know Uchiha Itachi," said Miho in her customary bitterness. "That man desired no glory, no fame, no fortune. He…" She let out a scoff, her eyes averting elsewhere as she grimaced derisively. "He was happy. When he died…he was happy. In the end…it was Konoha he cared for. Not himself. I speak…purely for Uchiha Itachi. Don't tell Konoha."

Anyone could tell that the words were practically forced out of her mouth. She did not agree with a single word that she had said. Her gray eyes flickered over to the two elderly council members who had breathed a sigh of relief at her words; as her gaze fell on them, they stiffened, bracing themselves for any onslaught she had prepared next.

"You should be grateful," she said, her words directed purely to the two of them.

They said nothing. They knew that they had won.

"You should," repeated Miho. "Were it not for the Godaime, for Kakashi, for Naruto…for the child growing inside of me…for Itachi…" Her eyes flickered again. "I would kill you two myself."

Kakashi rested a hand on her shoulder in warning. Anything she said could be used against her: she was technically a criminal, a prisoner of Konoha, though only the higher-ups knew otherwise.

"It's fine," she said, turning away, her pale hands rubbing her stomach. "I don't intend to do anything. I just want them to remember the man who has done so much for them. For this village. This nation."

She was at the door when she whispered again, and this time it was only Kakashi who heard her.

"And did nothing for me."

Sometimes, I hate Itachi now more than I ever did when I believed that he was the psychopath that I so dearly wished for him to be. I hate him for lying to me when he was alive. I hate him for letting me fall so desperately in love with him when he should have stopped me, when he knew he could never return those feelings in the same way. I hate him for all the ironies he's left me with: for him dying when I'd just found the cure, for him dying right when I got pregnant, for him dying without even trying. Sometimes this rage consumes me so completely that I half-wish he was alive just so I could physically demonstrate this hatred and this loss.