Tortured Uchiha [CURRENTLY EDITING]

Epilogue

Takamagahara appeared differently to all who entered the blessed realms of Heaven. Whiteness greeted Etsuko, for that’s how she perceived death, a white light and then acceptance. There was no nothing, but there was everything. And in her ideal Takamagahara, it didn’t matter how it appeared, just as long as she could be reunited again.

A man, a figure whom she didn’t really recognise, stood in the void of white. He was dressed in black ninja skins and his feet were bare apart from the linen that bound the shins of his pants. His creamy forehead was free of any hitai-ate and his scalp was an entanglement of charcoal curls. If it wasn’t for the broad nose, thick eyelashes and the smaller waterline indents from his tear ducts, Etsuko wouldn’t have recognised who the strong figure was.

Shisui.

Etsuko blinked slowly, anticipation rose in her chest. Was this what Shisui would’ve looked like if disease hadn’t devoured his mind? Shisui was beautiful, a man any sane woman would want to behold and call husband. On Shisui’s shoulder, Karasu ruffled his feathers. 

Shisui raised his hand to wave awkwardly, “I was waiting for you.”

“Gomenasai, Shi–Kun. If I’d known sooner of the curse the Uzumaki Reaper had placed on the Uchiha, I wouldn’t have judged you so harshly. You did what you had to do to keep me and Itachi safe I’m―” Etsuko was cut off.

There was no anger to his voice, no hatred in his movements. If Shisui had waited in Takamagahara for her since his fall four years ago, surely he would’ve witnessed everything that happened between the remaining duo. The older Shisui, the man which was nose two inches taller than Etsuko and had a voice two notes deeper than his adolescent self, took a step forward, brandishing the cocky smile she hadn’t know she missed.

“Those feelings,” Shisui said. “Those wishes have without fail…made it our fate to meet once again.”

Etsuko’s lip quivered, she remembered how much she hurt Itachi from pursuing Shisui. However, the atmosphere between the two of them was different, it was more like the competitive air that was held in her visions with Nezume and Itachi―she no longer saw Shisui as a loss, but a gain, to simply be considered as a friend without guilt was a blessing which she would never take for granted.

“You made me promise to keep Itachi safe, I failed you,” Etsuko whispered.

“Don’t you worry about that, Dobe’s fine,” Shisui rubbed the back of his unruly curls. “Speaking of, he’s probably waiting for us on the other side. You always did your best Etsu–Chan, there’s no point blaming yourself. Dobe was happy with himself, content and at peace; it made him smile to see you leave the world in the same way.”    

From the whiteness of Takamagahara, a familiar squawk echoed between Shisui and Etsuko. Like a feathery bullet, Kuragari shot down from the light and spread his wings wide. He made his home on Etsuko’s shoulder, nipping her earlobe. Though the distance between their parting was only a matter of hours, it relaxed her to know that the crow of misfortune had found peace by her side.

Shisui extended his hand to her, his calloused palm, free from all weapons, beckoned for Etsuko to follow him into the great unknown. She was afraid, unsure of what Takamagahara had in store for her, but also Etsuko didn’t even realise she was dead. She spared a quick glance down at herself.

Etsuko was dressed in the same attire as Shisui, black ninja skins, pants with bare feet and bound shins. Her arms were free from linen, scars and blotches from her past. It was like she could start fresh, become the Etsuko Uchiha which she saw in Sasuke―that fighting spark which she thought had long been snuffed out.