Naruto: Threads of Crimson

Shisui moved along the well-worn trails within the Uchiha compound, the familiar rustling of leaves usually a source of calm. 'I wonder if I'm able to somehow incorporate nature transformation into my body flicker to make it even faster. As of right now, I feel like in a race, I could give any jonin in the village a pretty good run for their money.'

He tilted his head to the side a little. 'Perhaps except for Minato. From what I've heard around the compound he can move instantaneously and if you see him on the battlefield you're a dead man walking.'

Shisui kept moving along as he twirled a kunai in his hand. 'You know what, as I'm thinking of it, maybe the trick is to constantly have wind chakra circulating in my body until I can-' 

A scream tore through the stillness, halting his train of thought. Shisui froze, his senses on high alert. The scream was unsettlingly familiar, not hearing another one for a few seconds, Shisui's eyes settled back to their regular expression and shrugged, 'Eh, it's probably nothing but a very intense sparing sessio-,' another scream shattered the calm again, this time with even more emotion behind it.

'Shiro,' his memory finally clicked and suddenly he realized who's scream it was. Without a second's hesitation, he focused his chakra into his feet and flickered toward the sound, moving with an urgency that barely concealed his worry. 'Hang on, Shiro,' he thought, his heart hammering. 'Just hang on.'

Speeding through the forest he heard a large crack of wood and a smaller scream. 'What is happening over there?' Shisui's eyes kept searching the forest looking for his friend.

Following where the noises came from, he reached a lake, their lake. At the end of the dock, he saw Shiro, hunched over, his whole body shaking as muffled sobs echoed off of the waters calm surface.

He approached carefully, footsteps soft as he made his way down the dock and sat close beside Shiro. He could see the sorrow pouring off of Shiro in waves, and while Shisui's brow furrowed with concern, he kept his expression calm, steady. 'What could've possibly happened to have made Shiro react this way?

He wrapped an arm around Shiro, giving him a gentle, comforting pat on the back, letting his presence try to comfort him. They sat in silence which allowed Shiro to release his grief, to let the tears fall unrestrained. The minutes slipped by as he stayed with him, unmoving, steady, and patient.

Finally, when Shiro's sobs grew quieter and the silence stretched, Shisui spoke softly, "Shiro… what happened?"

Shiro's breath hitched, and he looked up, his tear-streaked face pale, his eyes swollen and red. And there, in his eyes, was a newly awakened pair of three-tomoe Sharingan, glistening with fresh tears.

"Shisui… my dad…" Shiro's voice broke, each word laden with anguish. He clenched his hands, eyes turning back down to the water, trying to stay in control of his emotions. "He… he died. He was killed on the mission that I told you about, he said he'd be back. He promised… but he died."

The weight of Shiro's words hit Shisui hard, his heart aching at seeing his friend suffer. Without a second thought, he pulled Shiro into a firm embrace, holding him close, giving all the comfort he could offer. Shiro leaned into the hug, letting Shisui's support hold him up.

When Shisui finally pulled back from Shiro, he sat beside him, his own eyes clouded with pain and memories. He took a shaky breath, as though reaching back into something he kept locked away. "Shiro… I know what it's like," he said softly, his voice steady but lined with a sadness that seemed endless. "My father… he didn't die in battle. But he was taken from me in a way that was just as painful. In some ways, I feel like I lost him long before he was actually gone."

Shiro looked at Shisui. They'd never talked about his past in-depth before, but he felt a sudden need to understand.

Shisui took a breath, gathering his thoughts. He didn't share this with anyone, not even his closest friends, but seeing Shiro's hurt cracked something open in him. "My dad," Shisui began, his voice almost a whisper, "was hurt in the last war. It changed him—affected his mind. Mom said he started forgetting things even before I was born. At first, it was small things, like forgetting to put out a candle or where he left his shoes."

Shiro listened, Maybe it was easier, even a little comforting, to hear that Shisui understood what this kind of loss felt like. He watched Shisui's face, seeing the hurt that he felt, surface onto Shisui's features.

"But… as I was born and began to grow up, he got worse," Shisui continued, his voice shaking a little. "It wasn't just little things anymore. He'd forget plans we'd made, the hand signs for certain jutsu, even how to turn on the sink. By the time I was old enough to understand, it was like I was watching him fade away. Like he was… slipping out of reach."

"After I was born, my mom thought he was getting better. He'd have days where he seemed like himself again. He'd be energetic and friendly as anyone in the clan but when I turned five…" Shisui's voice dropped, and he blinked back tears.

"It got so much worse. Within a few months, he forgot almost everything at once. Our family, friends, our clan's name, and even chakra. It was like… he didn't know who he was anymore. And one day, he looked at me and my mom, and he just… didn't recognize us. He looked at us like we were strangers."

Shisui's jaw tightened, a tear escaping the corner of his eye as he spoke. "The next day… he died in his sleep. I remember sitting by him, waiting for him to wake up, thinking maybe he'd remember us again if I stayed long enough." He took a shaky breath, brushing away another tear. "But he didn't. He was just… gone."

"I'm so sorry, I never knew you went through something like that." Shiro sat in stunned silence, he hadn't expected this, that Shisui had experienced this pain even younger than he had.

Without a word, he reached out, wrapping his arm around Shisui and pulling him into a tight hug, letting him know he was there, that he understood. Shisui didn't resist, leaning into the embrace, letting the shared silence speak louder than words could.

"After he passed, Mom and I needed more help from the clan, and we received it. The only condition was that we had to move closer to the center of the compound," Shisui continued, a small smile flickering through the sadness. "Those days felt lonely, just the two of us trying to find our way again. So I started practicing my fireball jutsu by the lake, day in and day out. And guess who came up to me a few days later, asking if he could practice with me?"

A faint, almost teasing smile crossed Shiro's face as he looked at Shisui. "Who was it? I can't quite remember. Maybe you have a secret friend?"

Shisui laughed, a genuine sound that broke through the grief, "That friend turned out to be you, obviously. But you've been more than just that since then. I won't say I know exactly how you're feeling right now, but I do understand the heaviness of loss and how lonely it can be. And I want you to know that after all these years, I can't remember a time when I've been happier than I am now. Even with the couple months of ups and downs while being a shinobi, I couldn't imagine anyone else by my side."

The ache in Shiro's chest hadn't disappeared completely, but there was something warm and steady beside it now, something that took the edge off his grief, even if only slightly.

After a long pause, Shisui looked over with a hopeful smile. "I have an idea—how about you come over for dinner tonight, Shiro? You and your mom. I know she's going through a lot too."

Shiro hesitated at first, but then he thought about how kind Shisui's mom, Nanako, had always been. He nodded. "Yeah… I'd like that."

The two stood from the dock, and as they began to walk back toward Shiro's house, Shiro felt a pang of guilt tug at him. 'How could I have left Mom alone like that? She's grieving too, and I just ran off, leaving her to grieve on her own.' 

As much as Shiro felt the sadness and anger churning inside, the warmth grew stronger, pushing back the darkness, at least for now.

'My father might be gone, but I'm not. I have a friend who understands me, a clan that will support me, and now I need to make my father proud, even if he will never get to see it.' Shiro thought as he walked side by side back toward his house. 'And the way to do that is to get stronger, more powerful, faster than he was progressing now, that way, none of the other people he cares about die.'

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(A/N: His trauma isn't anywhere near solved as of right now, and it will pop up throughout the story, so don't be surprised if some effects pop up here and there.)

Powerstone Goals:

25 by Sunday = Extra Chapter

50 by Sunday = 2 Extra Chapters