Naruto 1. Chapter 1

**To the crow; ask not the Moon**

**Notes:** ululululululuooo – Jihad Bomb.

**Summary:** Sasuke learns that past mistakes can be altered, especially with the final level of Sharingan. However, must he pay the price for the new future? Au. Timetravel. Sasuke-Centric.

* * *

He stood stiffly upon a pile of rocks, body shaking as he held his katana with a trembling hand. Blood and sweat dripped down his refined, porcelain features; the usual cold indifference. A bead of sweat slowly attempted to journey down his face, however with his growing ire, Sasuke impatiently wiped it away with the back of his hand, hating the itch the trickle of sweat broke out. He had managed to lose his followers; especially the annoyance that was Karin.

He was alone; just the way he liked it. Sasuke felt himself calm down slightly as the ambient sounds of nature washed over him. With nothing enough of a bother to distract him within the real world, his mind slinked back to its shadows, exploring, analysing and plotting for the future.

He was not interested in the carnage at current hand – with Madara and Tobi's vision. He had wanted to crush leaf himself; however that was deemed unnecessary with the Jyuubi's rise. Although he had felt rather bitter that if the village were to be destroyed, it wouldn't have been by his hand. Bitterness, along with a relief he would never admit – a relief that he wouldn't have had to confront Naruto, or the guilt the blonde loser would have brought upon him. With the current situations at hand, his thirst for power had vanished into bitterness in achievement.

He despised human nature and empathy.

His head was held low as he glared at the ground, normal, dark brown eyes in place. In the recent events that seemed to have figuratively torn his heart out, whenever he activated his kekkei genkai, flashes of memories would appear sporadically. At first he found the new impairment an extreme disadvantage, and vowed to fix it, however as time passed, the brief, melancholic flashes of colour and black and white stole his curiosity. Instead of stubbornly ignoring the growing cinematics within his Sharingan eyes, he took it as a challenge to capture the flashing moments, and as time passed, a blurry compilation of memories had been formed; as if filmed by an old, almost broken video recorder.

With the time had passed, so had incredible process. Sasuke had found that if enough concentration and heart was put into it, he could basically preserve it within his eyes, so if and whenever they flutter shut, they would play within his mind. And after a while, when an abundance of compilations were manipulated together, however seemingly not in chronological order, Sasuke dropped himself upon a bed inside an inn, shut his eyes and soon, his head was lost in the realm of dreams.

When he discovered that the owner of the memories had been Itachi, a coldness of heart returned. The growing guilt and misunderstanding that had doubled up within the ages came back full force, and he was almost swept away with the emotional turmoil boiling within his chest. He shouldn't have been surprised, Sasuke scowled as he reprimanded himself for the emotional distress he had caused himself. Bringing his fingers upon his face, he gently traced the soft flesh around his eyes. These had been Itachi's, after all.

The images; memories within his head seemed relentless, constantly pestering him when he least expected them to – most of the time, when his emotional guard was down. And by doing so, they hit him harder in the mind than Sasuke was comfortable with.

Looking at the carnage of the Jyuubi and the Alliance of Ninja arms from afar, Sasuke settled to his usual frown as he observed the circumstances. With barely three hundred Ninja left, the villages surely would fall.

Activating his Sharingan, his gaze rounded in on a wounded, shocked Naruto and Hinata, along with a less than alive Neji; looking to be impaled by the endless needles exploding and residing from the Jyuubi. His forehead crinkled as his eyebrows furrowed and frown extended. Sasuke wouldn't deny it – it made him opening uncomfortable to have seen the death of Neji, and perhaps even a wounded Naruto. He scowled to himself, gritting his teeth furiously as he closed his eyes in anger. He had more morality and care left within himself than he had previously thought; ever since his abandonment of Konoha, and into Orochimaru's lair.

It seemed as if Itachi was right again. The power he had gained was not needed within his body, but his consciousness. In terms of stability, he was no better than a toddler; and that took much longer than it should have to admit, especially with his stonewall of pride. With all of his actions after Konoha washing back, he admitted to regretting all of them; and also often found himself to be pondering the prospects of if he had not succumbed to Orochimaru. His regret, however, was hardly shown – if at all - protected over a new, stronger layer of stupidity and stubbornness.

He walked a slow gait, striding towards nothing peculiar, going in a random direction. Slowly, he stopped and closed his eyes, lids slicking shut. He surged power into his eyes and felt the unparalleled power flow within him; even as it was; with his eyes closed, he still felt as if the world was naked before the final Sharingan. It was as if all that was sought, was understood. And what good of achievement does it give him, what good of a satisfaction does nothing but a jutsu borne of blood and hierarchy, was all that led him to amount to anything in life?

In such a cursed reality, he felt cheated and empty. What boring a life, to have there be no cause for challengers, and even so, the challenger was to be the only one he had considered a friend? Perhaps it was a phase of his teenage years, but to Sasuke, it all seemed grey; colourless.

He followed a small, imaginary path within his eyes before coming to a stop before a tall gate. Through eyes of the death god, he watched with nonchalance as hell proceeded with its doings, the Eternal Mangekyou Sharingan whirling to life.

Sasuke looked at his hands, and at to a lone figure guiding the dead, and the flesh bag of bodies floating aimlessly within a foul river. He smiled bitterly. Yes, he would make a wish. Having such power would allow him to do so, and he would use it to his advantage.

'_What irony,'_ he thought to himself. _'To have tried so hard, to have given up so much for such a thing as power, and yet, in the end, to exchange it for another chance'_. He, it seemed, was – and had been the fool.

All along.

And as he confirmed his wish, he felt the world swirl around him. His memories rushed past and he tried his hardest to hold on, but it was…difficult; extremely so. But his memories were the most important weapon at his disposal, if he were to travel back. So he held onto them with all of his might, and released everything else he ever was.

As the world's spin increase evermore, he felt _his _body grind to dust.

Goodbye, Sasuke.

* * *

He couldn't breathe. Whispers everywhere. Yelling and screams.

He wanted to cry out for mummy, it was so unfair. Why does he have to fall, for a stranger with tomoe – red eyes?

He tried to gasp for air, but had only succeeded in breathing bloody mucus. He tried, but it was so difficult and suddenly, he was so sleepy.

* * *

So kami came to him and held him in his arms, and he slept forever.

* * *

"Congratulations, Mrs Kudou, it's a boy." A doctor stated not so nonchalantly whilst holding onto the newborn babe. Of course, he had many experiences with delivering a baby but this was just insanity. He was certain, that for a minute or two the child in his arms had dead. The heart wasn't beating as he retrieved the boy from his mother's womb, and neither was he moving.

He had been almost afraid of announcing a stillborn. Mothers always broke apart after hearing such news; with the fragility of pregnancy at hand and the influx of feminine hormones. So, how in the world was the baby alive? He scowled to himself under the mask as he handed the newborn in his arms to the eager mother, who was cooing with delight, holding onto him with possessiveness and love.

It was an awkward moment, as they were the only ones in the room. Konoha was in war and had an extreme shortage of medic nin, or rather, medics in general, and apparently, the woman's husband was deceased shortly after five months through pregnancy, having died in a drunken brawl.

For her and the newborn's own good, and judging by the husband's description, he had felt no guilt in thinking that the mother was fortunate to lose her spouse. For the both of them. He smiled at her gently.

"So, ma'am, what will his name be?" He had hoped this wasn't too brash a question to ask, although he felt as if it was one of importance.

She smiled back tiredly.

"Kaito." She said, cradling and gently rocking him in her arms. "His name will be Kaito."

He nodded in approval, but was silent as he packed everything up.

"I will bring a temporary cradle," he began. He saw the mother's disappointment; however was thankful when she didn't argue. However, he did explain himself – just in case. "You are too tired to hold onto him for the night, and there is great risk with him sleeping within the same hospital bed. It would be better for both of you for sleeping independently, although I will place the cradle right next to your hospital bed." The doctor explained. "Is that fine?" The doctor asked, although the tone insinuated that there was little room for discussion.

He relaxed as she watched her shoulders release their tension.

"It's-It's fine. Thank you, doctor."

Nodding in acknowledgement, he walked out of the door.

Sasuke – or rather, Kaito, was annoyed. Extremely so.

For he had been reborn as a commoner's son – with absolutely no Ninja history whatsoever. This meant many great disadvantages – such as the lacking of a dojutsu, developed muscles and sensory. Those points just took him ten steps behind. He had light blue hair with ordinary grey eyes, although his_ mother_ had silken black hair and beautiful blue eyes. His name was Kaito Kudou, and his mother's is Ai.

Even though he would never forget about his real mother back when he was Sasuke Uchiha, he had grudging acknowledgement for Ai, and would always put on a false façade of a good son whenever in her presence. However, as time passed, the fine line between pretence and reality had started to fade, and he felt himself slowly giving into a forbidden thought – that Ai was a better mother than Mikoto had ever been.

To him, she was.

* * *

It felt strangely light hearted, to be Kaito Kudou instead of Sasuke Uchiha . As if all the burdens had been lifted from his heart – every being he had killed; as if through rebirth, the blood had been washed from his hands. Perhaps, as he waited for time to pass and for his new body to grow up, perhaps it was a time and a chance to relax – for once in his life.

He snorted in derision. Who was he kidding? He wasn't getting any closer at mastering this current body, as most body building exercises seem incapable for a four year old, not to mention with the academy looming by, it's a chance he couldn't miss.

Because as he had found out he was in Itachi's era, meaning that he would – if he was lucky enough – be assigned to the same class as Itachi. His grey eyes hardened with determination as webs of plans formulated within his mind

If he would have his way, shit's going to get real complicated, real fast.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN:** Thank you for the feedback.

To whether he would get his Sharingan: yes and no.

* * *

A sigh escaped pale, pink lips as Sasuke sat down briskly upon fresh, green and soft blades of grass. His fingers twirled against them as his grey eyes zoned out once more, clear eyesight expanding on the horizon of an early dawn. Sasuke's right hand palmed the onigiri he had managed to filch before, when he had tip-toed out of the house at four AM.

The small flat was silent and unknowing when he had skipped down the stairs and ran towards the training grounds, picking out a particularly isolated hill with sharp, shallow lake and dock on the sandy bedside. Ever since his rebirth years ago, he had taken it upon himself to wake up at dawn and do series of ordinary stretches and exercises; a slow yet effective way of rebuilding muscle memory. He was still four; however, if he worked hard enough he knew he would be allowed to participate in the Academy…in, give or take, a few months – when he'd finally turn five.

He was sure; at least, that was when Itachi had joined the Academy.

And for the events he had planned to take place, his place in the same generation and class as Itachi was vital. How he was going to manage so – with dozens of wannabe-ninjas enrolling – he wasn't sure, and that worried him. Made his small, child-of-a-heart beat faster. It was harder to handle stress in his new vessel; for even if his conscience was of an adolescent, his physique and fragility of mind still remained of a child's.

So, Sasuke had opted to ignore the worries as best as possible, deciding to focus mainly on rudimentary and grueling exercises such as sit-ups, push-ups and so on. Unfortunately, no matter how hard he had wanted to push himself, Sasuke knew it would be foolish to attempt to do anything more than simple drills, in fear of stunting his growth and generally seizing up his muscle development, which would be heavily detrimental to his – hopeful – ninja career.

The improvement was…small, barely noticeable…but it was there. He definitely felt stronger and more experienced. His movements were almost fluid instead of a clumsy, clunky waddle an inexperienced child would harbor – something that he was _not. _Sasuke knew he wasn't a patient man, and in many cases he would be as brash and impulsive as – dare he say it – _Naruto, _this delicate process of self-tutoring and training needed and deserved the utmost care.

And it was, he had found, so difficult. Almost too difficult – to not stubbornly destroy himself. There were so many things he had wanted to test out. Specifically, if his …old Kekkei Genkai was still available for use, and also his old elemental affinities he had inherited from being an Uchiha. He doubted it, though and didn't want to get his hopes up.

His mood suddenly souring, Sasuke _hmphed _before taking another bite of the rice ball. Sasuke had hoped that he would; things, _achievements_, would be so much easier to accomplish. But then again, this was a whole different body. He had a whole different, ordinary bloodline and it would be a fools dream to rely on things that were long lost.

Upon such realizations it was not doom nor demoralization that pulled him and his wits down, but rather, set ablaze a new fiery resolve burning within him; motivation. A twisted smirk edged its way upon his lips. He knew that among the ranks and teachers' whispers, the Academy would think him nothing more than dirt in comparison to an old, war and bloodlined family's heir. But he would show them, Sasuke promised himself. Even if he was not an Uchiha, even without their hereditary benefits, he would still a grand ninja. He would surpass the clans and most of all, he would surpass Itachi.

Or so he had hoped.

His smooth grin widened ever so slightly as he finished the rest of his breakfast, dusted his hands and practiced his simple taijutsu movements once more, slowly but surely and in well-practiced repetition.

* * *

Of course, his mother was used to his rather…oddities; for as a child he seemed much too mature and not to mention, independent. Although she had tried her hardest to remove him from his self-inflicted seclusion, even she gave up after the first few months, learning to enjoy the silence and calm his presence often brought, much rather than the snot-nosed majority of brats that ran amuck within Konoha.

So it was because of her acceptance when he hadn't gotten in trouble for the umpteenth time; for sneaking out at such early hours in the morning.

"Kaito," She scowled, hands on her waist. Before he had time to acknowledge her presence she continued her tirade of words. Sasuke immediately zoned out; a defence mechanism he had developed in his years as Kaito when he had found her reprimands to be headache-inducing, although she never seemed to notice how her words of warning always went unheeded.

"What did I tell you about sneaking out this early in the morning?"

Judging by her tone, she hadn't meant it as a rhetorical question. And also judging by her tone, he'd have to have an answer to give.

"That it's dangerous for a child like me." He replied monotonously, feeling uncomfortable. Sasuke still hadn't gotten used to his voice change – from one of an adolescent to a bumbling child, and sounded so bizarre whenever he spoke.

His mother nodded and although she tried to appear stern, she seemed more exasperated than anything. She sighed upwards, blowing stray strands of hair away from her eyes.

"Exactly," She agreed. "And what did you do just then?"

"I snuck out," he scowled. This interrogation was getting old and tedious. He almost wished he had a mother figure that didn't really care about him at all – it would make matters all the less troublesome.

"Again." Mrs Kudou grunted, looking more displeased at the second. Perhaps she had finally noticed his total apathy towards her implemented curfews. "Keep doing that and I'll never let you out again – and I mean it."

Apathy turned towards annoyance.

Keep him inside?

Keep _him _inside?

Keep him _inside?_

Now that just won't do. It wouldn't do at all. Sasuke allowed a more prominent scowl to mar his features, eyebrows furrowing in displeasure. With his hands surreptitiously balled into fists and the displeasure clear on his face, Sasuke looked no more than an infuriated brat, although his appearances were the least of his worries now.

"It was for traini-," he began, but his mother was quick to cut him off.

"I'm tired of hearing that same excuse, Kaito." She sighed as she rubbed her temples with slender, worn and scarred fingers. His mother's words sounded strained through her firmly clasped teeth and her half lidded eyes looked glazed and slightly unfocused. The wrinkles in her forehead became more pronounced when her brows furrowed, a bead of sweat trailing down the right side of her face.

"I know you want to be a ninja, Kaito. But this is just too dangerous – a co-worker had spotted you walking along some advanced training grounds for shinobi who use deadly weapons. I know you said that you would take care, but if you continue like this, I would have to stop you. And you know I would, Kaito. You're my baby, Kaito. You know I would."

'_You're my baby, Kaito. I love you.' _

She almost sounded defeated – god, she looked to be as well. The underlying messages screamed through his veins and vessels as her words washed over, somehow hurting him inside more than any weapon or jutsu would. She was his mother. She would do anything for him. She knew she was poor, but she knew it was Sasuke's ambition to become a ninja. She knew her funds would hardly keep them fed and clothed if that was to happen.

That her meagre wage would make her the laughing stock of the ferocious grapevine within Konoha. She'd think that he was her _son_, and not an imposter. She'd think him to be lacking in comparison with the shinobi family's children – which he would most likely fail. Yet she had never questioned him; his resolve had become her own.

His eyes burned lightly, but he pushed back the oncoming waterworks.

_So this is a mother's love. _

He felt a bastard, for when he pretended he didn't see the thin layer of building tears through her glassy eyes

And suddenly, Sasuke didn't feel nearly as much anger as he felt guilt, the longer he observed his mother's overworked, dishevelled and exhausted form. His mouth clamped shut into a persistent line, occasionally twitching as different parts of him battled in turmoil.

One…two….Sasuke counted to ten, letting the quiet reign his irrational and dangerous temper in – lest he says something he would regret. Had he not forgotten that his mother was a minimum-waged nurse and worked for hours every day, struggling to make ends meet? The realization was hard to accept and formed an uncomfortable weight in his throat. She was - They were poor. He wanted – aspired to be a ninja.

And the Academy wasn't cheap.

Especially for commoners with no specialties like him.

He let out a shaky breath before striding calmly forward to the towering figure of his mother before quietly giving her a simple hug, to which she accepted with no small surprise – it wasn't like him, to outwardly show his emotions like this. He pressed his head against her neck and in that physical contact; in that hug, he tried to convey every single emotion he had felt, because god forbid could he not say them out loud.

He was a coward in the greatest sense.

So he would hope that a few simple words and this simple hug would be enough for her, and that she would understand. Tears leaked out of his protesting eyes as he let out a trembling breath.

"I'm sorry, mum." He whispered softly, eyes closing at the abbreviation. He tightened his hold on her for an instance before letting go and walking towards his small room down the hall way before changing into his sleepwear. He held his head low, so that maybe she wouldn't see the wet, red, puffiness of his eyes. Sasuke never liked looking weak.

His hand trembled, though, and his heart fell.

When he felt the salty, wet patch from where her eyes had been.

Slipping on and off his neatly folded clothes, Sasuke curled up inside thin, threadbare sheets and closed his eyes.

He dreamt of war and blood, but most of all, the crow and moon.


End file.
