I do not own any Naruto characters or settings.  I only own my OC, Musei Shiro.

This chapter does not contain any descriptions of blood or violence.

I hope you enjoy the story of Shiro, the Weeping Samurai of the Land of Iron!

~~~*~~~

The next few days after the encounter at the crossroad were easier for the team and much clearer to Shiro. Itachi would occasionally pull over on the road to look at the map and check to see if they were on the right track, only to get back with walking a few moments later. With the scroll, the estimated week of traveling across the Land of Earth was reduced down to only five days.

Kisame was terribly distraught in passing two hot spring resorts on the way, grumbling to himself and let out sharp, frustrated sighs every time a resort would emerge from the horizon. It was to only linger in their sights for half an hour before sinking back down in the mountains behind them again.

Villages were their only source of rest; checking into inns for the night or sometimes just stopping for a bite to eat at a restaurant to only get back on the road half an hour later. Shiro bought another bamboo sheath from the next town they visited, seemingly to have left her other one, empty from the onigiri of course, elsewhere in some inn behind them. She stocked up the pipe with more rice balls, allowing a food source whenever those frequent, unfortunate days passed without a village nearing their sights.

The second day after their last village hotel check-in, their first night in a cave together, Itachi made the suggestion to retire. Kisame scoffed in reply, complaining about how the rock floor messes up his back during his sleep. Nonetheless, after a few moments of bickering, Itachi calm and passive as usual but Kisame roaring at him in protest, the large shinobi finally gave into his drowsiness and took a seat inside the cavern they were standing in front of.

Shiro took the liberty of cutting down nearby trees, dead and delightfully bone dry, for firewood. Itachi lit the pile up, providing a nice inferno for them to bask in. The night was chilly as usual, and it was quite the luxury to have such a warm fire in front of their laps. A storm brewed in the sky, eventually releasing the cool rain, pounding down on the dry landscape as Shiro passed around some dinner. They all ate quietly as their eyes stayed glued to the blazing fire, their breaths puffing clouds of steam in the cold cavern.

Kisame, as always, fell asleep before Itachi and Shiro did, laying down on the warm cave floor, heated up by the now dying fire, and left his two teammates to sit in silence. The drizzle of the rain mixed with the crackling of the flames and the soft snoring of the bulky ninja was somewhat soothing to the samurai; so much that she actually felt at home for the first time in twelve years.

Itachi suddenly cleared his throat.

“Shiro-san,” he muttered softly, his dark eyes reflecting the golden-orange tongues that danced on the blackened wood. “May I ask you a question?”

Shiro's narrowed eyes glanced over at the raven-haired shinobi. His knee was brought up to the side, his arm resting on it as his other leg extended out before him. His Akatsuki cloak was shed, folded neatly next to his lean, fit body.

“It depends on what the question is,” she murmured back, returning her gaze back to the mesmerizing fire.

There was a slight pause before Itachi spoke again.

“Your sister,” he finally uttered. “I can only imagine what you're feeling right now. You must really love her if you've been willing to sacrifice your entire life to rescuing her.”

Shiro stiffened at the subject of her imouto being brought up, but then relaxed as she silently ruminated about her past experiences with her; Yoru was so innocent and cute back then. Shiro wondered if she was as hostile as she was in her dream, pondering on what she was like now.

“Shiro-san?”

Her thoughts were interrupted, Shiro shaking her head slightly to clear her foggy mind.

“Hai,” she replied blankly. “She's my everything now. My family was the only thing that mattered to me, and seeing now that my parents are dead, Yoru is the only family I have left.”

“I can understand that,” Itachi nodded, sighing. “I feel the same way about Sasuke.”

Shiro tilted her head toward the ninja, her face still.

“Sasuke?” she inquired. “The lone survivor of the Uchiha Massacre?”

“He is my otouto,” Itachi drew out a long sigh again. “My beloved little brother.”

Shiro blinked twice, staring at him with peering eyes before turning her gaze back to the dying flames.

“Beloved, hmm...?” she murmured. “I'm surprised someone like you has a beloved in this world anymore.”

Itachi's eyes snapped towards her.

“What is that supposed to mean?” he growled.

“A little brother, huh...?” Shiro mused, ignoring the shinobi's hostility. “How old is he?”

Itachi glowered at her before answering, “sixteen.”

The samurai closed her onyx eyes in sorrow.

“Yoru-chan would be seventeen by now I believe.” Shiro's mouth drew out a long exhale. “I wonder if her hair has grown...or if she cut it...”

“Shiro-san,” the raven-haired ninja cut her off. “There is something I must tell you about my otouto.”

Shiro slowly turned her head towards the shinobi.

“What is it?”

“Sasuke,” he said as he clenched his jaw, “hates me. He wants to kill me.”

“Nani? Naze? (What? Why?)”

But Shiro already knew why, her eyes widening a bit.

“Because I killed our family,” Itachi whispered. “I killed Otousan and Okaasan, so my dear little brother has vowed it upon his own life to hunt me down and kill me, as the avenger of the Uchiha Clan.”

“Avenger of the Uchiha Clan...” the samurai murmured, closing her eyes. There was a long pause.  “I heard of a story once while traveling in the Iron. It's quite a popular story throughout the world, so I would presume you know it.”

“Story?” Itachi huffed. “The only famous one I can think of is the legend of Otsutsuki Hagoromo, the Sage of Six Paths.”

“Well this isn't as big as the story of the Sage of Six Paths,” Shiro held her pale hands on top of the lowering flames, the warm seeming to thaw her numbing fingers, “the almighty creator of ninjutsu. This is much more recent; it happened twelve years ago, a few months after the termination of my village.”

Itachi lowered his eyes, dark and somber.

“Oh yes, I think I know the story you're talking about; the tale of Akuma Izoku, the Demon of the Shadows.”

“I hear her clan jutsu was vicious,” Shiro murmured, her voice distant and tiny. “The Demon Summoning Jutsu, was it? And I was told that the first time she used it was when she was five. That's phenomenal!”

“Indeed. She used it to fight the Hidden Leaf in the Invasion of In'ei,” Itachi muttered. “I witnessed it myself, and I can tell you that it was something I've never seen before.”

Shiro's eyes widened.

“You saw the Demon girl in action?” she gasped.

“I was deployed to the battle, as many other ninja were. My group and I were unfortunate enough to meet her in combat, and she killed a comrade of ours before chasing after the Kuraikage.”

“The Kuraikage,” Shiro cocked her head to the side. “Wasn't that a false title?”

“Hai,” the shinobi nodded once. “She rewrote the history of the Land of Shadows when she came into power, and she took the title of “Kuraikage” as an attempt to force herself into the Kage Council. This wouldn't work of course, since “shadow” isn't part of the five elements of Chakra transformation. She named all of the past leaders as Kuraikage also, trying to convince the people of the Land of Shadows that they were indeed worthy of being part of the Great Nations.”

“And then there was the Akuma Clan Massacre,” the samurai whispered. “A much similar story to the Uchiha Clan Massacre. Only one survivor was left, and both seek and had sought revenge.”

“She ran away from In'ei after finding her parents dead,” Itachi explained softly, “on the backs of one of her Contractors, a Hellhound named Tatatsu. She stumbled upon Konohagakure, and Sandaime Hokage-sama welcomed her warmly into the village. She grew very close to one of their top shinobi during childhood and all throughout their time together. Akuma-sama reached the high rank of ANBU before passing away at the end of the invasion; she was seventeen at the time.”

“Yoru-chan is seventeen...” Shiro whispered, her mind in some faraway place. “I couldn't imagine what I would do if she – ”

Shiro stopped herself as her throat choked up. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. The two just sat there in silence, dwelling in their bloody pasts as the embers glowed in the darkness.

“The story of Akuma Izoku is a sad one,” Itachi said after a while. “Kakashi-san was never the same after her death.”

Shiro remained quiet, her breathing controlled and her face plain as a fresh piece of paper.

“Revenge is a harsh thing,” he continued grimly. “It's foolish and naïve; nothing comes out of it besides torment.”

“Avenging my family and rescuing my sister are the only two things that matter to me now,” Shiro snarled suddenly. Itachi's dark gaze wandered over to her slim figure, her white hair and kimono glowing like snow in the rainy night. “I will find the raiders who destroyed my village, and I will save my imouto.”

The dark-haired ninja's gaze lingered on her before sighing, rolling his neck from side to side.

“You're such a child,” he mused. “You talk of nothing but pipe dreams...there are times when people must make painful choices. Tell me, Shiro-san, what would do you if Yoru happened to hate you as Sasuke hates me?”

The white-haired girl flashed her eyes open, but her mouth stayed clamped shut.

“Would you allow her to kill you?” Itachi hissed darkly. “Or would you kill her yourself?”

Shiro ground her teeth together, remembering the dream she had had not too long ago. Yoru with her black katana glinting in the silvery moonlight, the look upon her heart-shaped pale face, the voice of rage that spilled from her red lips as she thrust herself at her, her blade flashing a lethal gleam. Shiro shook her head suddenly, appalled at such a foolish question.

“I'd let her kill me, of course,” she spat venomously. “But why in the world would she hate me? I've done nothing but good for her.”

Itachi rumbled in anger.

“It has been the same with Sasuke and I,” he growled. “I have done nothing but protect him. But I chose to keep the truth from him for his own good. Now he is under the custody of Orochimaru, just like Yoru, training to become stronger to one day defeat me and essentially kill me in battle. What happens if Yoru is doing the same thing?”

“I've done nothing to harm her!” Shiro screeched, waking Kisame up. “Yoru is my light, my reason for living! There is no way she would hate me! She couldn't! After all I've done, after everything we've been through, why in the hell would she hate me?!”

Kisame stared at the girl through drowsy eyes, only to lay back down to fall back asleep. Itachi blinked his eyes at her calmly, his face unfazed by her sudden outburst.

“The world is made up of nothing but lies,” he said solemnly. “Us humans only accept what we want as fact, but really, does that make it true?”

Shiro glared at him sternly, her eyes seeming to ignite into a burst of black flame. Her scrawny chest heaved as she huffed, raging and agonized. A few moments later, her head dropped, some of her white hair slipping past her shoulders as she sobbed.

“My beloved imouto...” she wept. “Would never hate me...”

She suddenly felt a pair of arms wrap around her, gentle and sweet. She gasped as the sensation overcame her grief, her tears turning cold as she stared off at the cavern wall in front of her.

“Self-sacrifice...” Itachi murmured, his warm breath on the back of her neck. “A nameless shinobi who protects peace within its shadow. That is a true shinobi. That is the Ninja Way.”

“Samurai must always fight to the death,” Shiro whispered, closing her eyes as she leaned back into Itachi's embrace.

The rain had picked up, the pounding outside growing louder as more water drizzled from the sky, plopping down onto the soil below. The wind gusted outside the cave, sending a chilly breeze inside the cavern. Itachi's embrace tightened around her figure, Shiro's hands pressed up against his crossed arms.

“Samurai must always fight to the death...” Shiro sighed again. She opened her eyes and stared down at the pile of embers, glowing a warm orange in the blackened charcoal. “And that is exactly what I intend to do, if it means I can save Yoru.”

~~~*~~~

Be sure to comment, vote, and to follow me!  And as always, thanks for reading!