Chapter 5: The Doomsday Pregnancy
For three agonizing weeks, Ren held onto a tiny, desperate shred of hope.
He hoped that his father’s stamina was lacking. He hoped that the stress of the impending war had negatively affected his dad’s fertility. He hoped that his single night of failure in the hallway hadn’t resulted in the worst-case scenario.
That hope was violently executed during Tuesday night dinner.
Ren sat at the low wooden table, aggressively chewing on a piece of sweet dango. The atmosphere in the dining room was calm. The tea was warm.
Then, his mom set her chopsticks down, placed a gentle hand over her stomach, and looked at his dad.
"Fugaku," she said, her voice soft and glowing with warmth. "I went to the clan physician today."
His dad froze. A piece of grilled fish hovered inches from his mouth. His stern, stoic face completely broke, his dark eyes widening in a rare display of raw emotion. "Are you...?"
She nodded. "I am pregnant."
Ren’s jaw unhinged.
The dango slipped from his mouth and hit the tatami mat with a soft, pathetic splat.
His dad let out a breath that sounded suspiciously like a laugh, reaching across the table to grasp his mom’s hands. He was absolutely overjoyed.
Ren just sat there, sweating bullets.
The doomsday clock has officially started, he realized, a cold dread washing over his tiny body. They did it. I failed.
Word spread through the Uchiha compound like wildfire.
The clan elders were absolutely thrilled by the news. In fact, they were a little too thrilled.
A few days later, Ren was sitting on the porch, attempting to look as lazy and unpromising as possible. From around the corner, he overheard two senior elders speaking with his dad.
"This is wonderful news, Fugaku," one elder rasped, his voice dripping with relief. "A new child. A fresh start. The clan needs a true prodigy to carry the bloodline forward."
"Indeed," the second elder agreed, not even trying to lower his voice. "Especially since the firstborn... well. The less said about his potential, the better. We can finally stop worrying about him."
His dad’s silence was heavy, but he didn’t argue with them.
Ren leaned his head against the wooden pillar.
Go ahead and celebrate, you old fools, he thought bitterly. You’re literally cheering for the guy who is going to carve you up like Thanksgiving turkeys in thirteen years.
For the next nine months, Ren lived in a state of perpetual, low-grade terror.
He constantly, nervously side-eyed his mother’s growing stomach. To everyone else, it was a beautiful symbol of the clan’s future. To Ren, it was a ticking time bomb. He was genuinely terrified of the fetus growing inside her.
There’s a mass murderer in there, Ren would think every time his mom asked him to feel the baby kick. He’s practicing his taijutsu. He’s coming for me.
The inevitable arrived during a stiflingly hot summer afternoon.
The clan elites were gathered in the main hall for a political meeting regarding the escalating border skirmishes. Ren was sitting in the corner, trying to ignore the war talk, when his mom suddenly gasped and gripped the edge of the table.
Her water broke right in the middle of the clan meeting.
Ren braced for impact.
The compound erupted into organized chaos. Medics were summoned. His dad paced the hallway like a caged tiger. Ren sat outside the sliding doors, his tiny knees pulled up to his chest, listening to his mother’s strained cries.
Hours passed.
And then, the sharp, piercing cry of a newborn baby echoed through the halls.
"It’s a boy!" the clan midwife announced, sliding the door open with a beaming smile. "A perfectly healthy boy!"
The clan rejoiced. The Uchiha’s dignity had supposedly been restored.
Fugaku named him Itachi.
Later that night, the compound finally settled into a deep, exhausted sleep.
Ren crept down the hallway, the wooden floorboards cold against his bare feet. He pushed the nursery door open, wincing at the slight creak of the hinges, and stepped inside.
The room was bathed in pale moonlight.
Ren stood alone at the crib, gripping the wooden railing with trembling hands.
He looked down.
Wrapped in a soft blue blanket was the canon threat. The prodigy. The genius. The future executioner of the Uchiha clan.
Itachi was sleeping peacefully, his tiny chest rising and falling.
Ren stared at the infant, feeling a dark, heavy knot twist in his gut. He knew the lore. He knew the body count. He knew exactly what this child was destined to become.
If I nip the bud in the cradle... I stop the massacre, Ren thought, his heart pounding against his ribs. I save mom. I save dad. I save myself. The timeline changes forever.
He slowly raised a shaking hand, hovering it over the infant’s tiny face.
It’s just a baby. One quick motion. It’s him, or everyone else.
Just as Ren’s shadow fell over the crib, the baby stirred.
Itachi’s large, dark eyes fluttered open. He looked up at the trembling hand hovering above him.
Instead of crying, the infant reached up. His tiny, warm fingers wrapped securely around Ren’s index finger.
And then, baby Itachi gave a bright, innocent, toothless laugh.
Ren froze. The breath hitched in his throat.
He looked at the laughing baby gripping his finger. He looked at the absolute, pure innocence radiating from his little brother.
The dark, murderous resolve in his chest shattered into a million pieces. His modern morals violently rejected the thought. He was a shameless, cynical troll who wanted to get rich and avoid the draft, but he wasn’t a baby killer.
Ren’s legs gave out, and he fell to his knees beside the crib, resting his forehead against the wooden slats.
Damn it, he cursed silently, tears of frustration prickling the corners of his eyes. I can’t do it.
He couldn’t kill him. But he also couldn’t let canon happen.
Ren stood back up, looking down at the baby who was still clinging to his finger. A fierce, entirely irrational protective instinct flared in his chest.
Fine, Ren vowed, his eyes narrowing with a new, ironclad determination. If I can’t kill you, I’ll just have to corrupt you. I will make absolutely sure you never become a loyal Konoha tool.
He leaned over the crib, his face inches from his new baby brother.
"Listen to me very closely, Itachi," Ren whispered, delivering his very first piece of anti-ninja propaganda into the nursery air. "Never work overtime for free."
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