On the other side…
The faint hum of silence hovered within the shadows of Konoha's underground intelligence division.
A single candle flickered atop a small table, casting a trembling golden light across the cold stone walls, where secrets and schemes had long taken root.
Itachi Uchiha stood with his back straight and face unreadable, like a solemn statue carved by grief itself, a testament to the weight of the world resting upon his young shoulders.
Across the table, seated calmly, was Danzo Shimura, the one-eyed hawk of Konoha, a figure shrouded in ambition and shadows.
Danzo's fingers tapped lightly against the wood of his cane, each sound crisp and deliberate, cutting through the quiet like a knife slicing through flesh.
"I heard… you've awakened it," he said with a casual air, but his eyes glinted with guarded interest, scrutinizing Itachi's every move.
Itachi's black eyes flickered crimson as he activated his newly acquired Mangekyō Sharingan, the three tomoe spiraling into the eternal pattern.
The transformation felt both thrilling and haunting.
"Yes," he said, his voice smooth but hollow, echoing the emptiness within.
"I did. The night Shisui died… my eyes changed forever."
Danzo leaned back slightly, the flickering light catching the metal plating over his eye, giving him an otherworldly appearance.
He did not flinch at the sight of Itachi's Mangekyō; instead, he smirked ever so faintly, relishing the power that emanated from the young Uchiha.
"A pity about Shisui. He was… gifted. Loyal. Dangerous."
"You speak of loyalty, yet you forced him to choose between Konoha and the clan—between justice and silence," Itachi replied, a steel edge to his tone.
His heart pulsed with a growing tempest of restrained fury, each beat a reminder of the cost of loyalty.
Danzo's only response was a long, quiet breath, reminiscent of the depths of a storm holding back its rage.
"The Third Hokage believes in dialogue. In peace through patience. But we both know the Uchiha won't listen, Itachi. Your father has already begun preparing the coup. Soon, blood will flood the streets of this village."
Itachi's eyes narrowed, a shadow passing over his face, darkening the light around him.
"The Uchiha seek justice. They have been relegated, oppressed, monitored like criminals… what choice did they have?"
"They have a choice not to endanger the lives of every innocent citizen in this village," Danzo said sharply, the words punctuated with the weight of authority as he stood with a grunt.
He paced slowly around the room, the tip of his cane tapping rhythmically against the stone floor with each step, a metronome marking the time until fate's curtain would fall.
"Your clan's pride blinds them. And now… you must choose. Do you stand with them? Or with the village?"
Itachi was silent, caught in the storm of thoughts swirling in his mind, every instinct battling against the dilemma set before him.
Danzo stopped beside him, the air growing charged with tension.
"The Third Hokage has ordered a halt to the coup. He believes he can resolve this with words," he stated, his tone dismissive of hope.
Itachi's lips pressed into a thin line, the struggle within him brewing like a tempest ready to unleash itself.
"Then that is what I'll work toward. A peaceful end."
Danzo's gaze hardened, the flickering candle casting shadows that danced ominously across his features.
"There will be no peace, Itachi. That fantasy of his will only delay the inevitable. The Uchiha will strike, and when they do, thousands will die. This village cannot survive another war—not after the Nine-Tails. We must act before they do."
Silence fell between them, heavy and thick, broken only by the soft crackle of the candle, flickering like hope teetering on the edge of extinction.
"Then… what are you suggesting?" Itachi asked, his voice quiet but edged with determination, demanding clarity.
Danzo turned fully to face him, voice low and cold, cutting through the tension like a sharp blade.
"We eliminate the threat before it begins. We end the Uchiha."
The words struck him like a kunai to the chest, piercing through the desperate hope that clung to his heart like a lifeline.
Itachi did not blink, but the air around him felt heavier, laden with dread.
"You want to massacre an entire clan… your own comrades?" The thought twisted in his heart like a dagger driven deeper.
"Comrades?" Danzo scoffed, dismissing the intensity of Itachi's words with a wave of his hand.
"They are traitors. They have chosen their path. You've seen the meetings. You've read the reports. It's not just your father—it's nearly all of them. They whisper rebellion in the dark. They speak of blood and conquest."
"And what of the children?" Itachi's voice turned sharp, ice encasing his determination.
"The infants in cradles? The old who can barely walk?" Each word dripped with agony, a plea reverberating in the depths of his soul.
Danzo's eye gleamed in the dim light, cold and calculating.
"Collateral. Tragic… but necessary." The conviction in his tone echoed the relentless grip of fate closing in.
Itachi turned away, fists clenched at his sides, the surge of anger and sorrow coursing through him like venom.
Every instinct in his body screamed to strike the man down, to erase him from the world, yet he stood still—a shinobi.
A son.
A heart torn between love and duty, balancing atop the sharp blade of a decision no man should ever face.
"Spare Sasuke," he said finally, voice low, trembling with suppressed agony and fierce protectiveness.
"He's just a child. He has no part in this—he's innocent."
Danzo tilted his head, his expression contemplative, a predator considering its prey.
"Your brother. Hm…" he mused, letting the words linger in the air, heavy with implications.
Itachi turned back, the Mangekyō flaring, fueled by suppressed killing intent.
"He is my bottom line, Danzo. You cross that line, and not even hell will hide you from me."
The elder considered him quietly, an unfathomable depth in his gaze, then gave a slight nod.
"Very well. Sasuke will live."
A breath escaped Itachi's lips, as though a fraction of his soul had exhaled, the weight of that promise tethered to a fragile thread of hope.
"You'll carry out the mission in secret," Danzo continued, his voice low and methodical, devoid of warmth.
"The Hokage and the elders will remain unaware of the full extent. I will handle the cleanup. You'll be labeled a traitor—a monster. The Uchiha will fall by your blade. All of them. In return, Konoha will be spared… and your brother will be protected."
Itachi's heart thundered in his chest, each beat echoing the inevitability he had tried to deny.
Images assaulted him—his mother's gentle smile, his father's stern but respectful gaze, the laughter of cousins in the courtyard.
The warmth of clan.
Of family.
And now, he would extinguish it all.
To preserve the greater peace.
To protect Sasuke.
"You planned this from the beginning," Itachi said, each word laced with bitter clarity, resentment knotting in his stomach like a serpent.
Danzo smiled faintly, a chill running down Itachi's spine at the sight of malice twisted into satisfaction.
"I planned to protect Konoha. You're the one who made the choice to see the truth."
Itachi stared into the flickering candle flame.
For a brief moment, he saw his father's silhouette, tall and proud, engulfed in the fire—a father, a leader, a protector reduced to embers in the dark.
The thought tightened around his heart, a vice squeezing grief into resolve.
"I will do it," he said at last, the resolve hardening within him like tempered steel.
Danzo gave a nod of approval, the corners of his lips curling in triumph.
"I'll have Root prepare what you need. You're a true shinobi, Itachi. Sacrificing everything for the village. History will never understand you. But you'll know. You did what had to be done."
"I'm not doing this for the village," Itachi whispered, voice as brittle as ash scattered in the wind.
"I'm doing this for my brother. And for the future."
Danzo said nothing, the silence curling between them like smoke dissipating into the night.
Without another word, Itachi turned and walked out of the chamber, his footsteps echoing in the stone corridor like the toll of a funeral bell.
The candle flame behind him sputtered, casting long shadows that slithered across the walls like the spirits of the dead to come, leaving behind the taste of iron and betrayal lingering on his tongue.
Outside, the wind whispered through the leaves of the Hidden Leaf Village, unaware of the storm that had just begun to gather in the shadows.
Children played in the streets, their laughter bright and innocent like sunlight breaking through clouds.
Shopkeepers laughed and shouted, their voices rich with the flavor of daily life.
A family of three Uchihas walked along a market street, a mother holding her child's hand while the father smiled beside them, oblivious to the fate that had already been sealed in the dark below.
Itachi walked through the village with a mask carved deep into his soul, the weight of his choice pressing heavily upon him.
The faces he passed blurred in his vision, each smile a reminder of the cost of his decisions.
He no longer walked as a boy, nor even as a shinobi.
He walked as a blade—cold, silent, destined to fall upon the very fabric of his own existence.
That night, he stood atop the Uchiha compound, moonlight bathing his form in its ethereal glow.
The wind tousled his cloak, the chill biting through the fabric as he surveyed the village he had known, the home that had nurtured both dreams and nightmares.
A black crow landed beside him, cawing softly, a reminder of his lost friend.
"I'm sorry, Shisui," he whispered, the pain clawing at his chest like a wild beast, raw and relentless.
A single tear fell from his left eye, tracing a path down his cheek, carrying with it the weight of unspoken grief as it disappeared into the darkness.
The beginning of the end had arrived.
In the corridors of power, peace is often forged in blood.
And Itachi Uchiha had just signed the greatest peace Konoha would never acknowledge.
With his clan's blood… and his own soul.
Chapter End.
To be continued... (］ •̀ ᴗ - •́ ) ✧