Itachi didn't claim to fully understand Sasuke.
After all, he'd missed the crucial years of his brother's growth.
But this pure, untainted aura radiating from Sasuke… it felt utterly alien to the boy he knew.
"This move," Sasuke declared, voice steady despite the storm within, "is called Heavenly Flying Immortal!"
He channeled his chakra with precision, using only half his strength to maintain control. His body launched skyward, momentum surging like a rising tide.
From above, he glared down at Itachi, his heart ablaze with murderous intent. Every fiber screamed to unleash his full power, to strike down this cruel brother who'd torn their family apart.
But—no.
That wasn't enough.
He pictured their parents' lifeless bodies, relived the years of torment. Sasuke vowed to make Itachi taste regret before dragging him to death's door.
"You'll never kill me," Sasuke spat, "and you'll never escape the nightmare of slaughtering our parents!"
White light enveloped him, his sword intent materializing into a radiant shroud. Under the moonlight, with his katana raised, robes billowing, and eyes icy, Sasuke resembled a celestial warrior descended from the heavens.
"This move… it's got some flair, Itachi-san," Kisame remarked, his tone laced with awe but no real concern.
"No matter," Itachi replied coolly.
His scarlet eyes shifted, the three tomoe spinning into an intricate, mesmerizing pattern.
Mangekyo Sharingan!
Sasuke, mid-air, his aura nearing its peak, caught the transformation. Kakashi had warned him of this—the Sharingan's ultimate form, capable of feats beyond comprehension, perhaps even countering his technique.
Damn it!
No more hesitation.
"Uchiha Itachi," Sasuke roared, "I will end you!"
With a bellow, his body morphed into a colossal blade of light, streaking like lightning—not toward Itachi, but into the distance.
As long as Itachi couldn't kill him, he'd suffer.
That was Sasuke's conviction.
Itachi: "⊙_⊙"
Kisame: "⊙_⊙"
Beneath the cold moonlight, the two stood frozen on the empty ground. A soft breeze stirred their hair before they could accept the truth.
The boy who'd vowed to end Itachi…
Had fled.
"Damn it! That was an escape move?" Kisame slammed Samehada into the ground, carving a deep crater. His chest throbbed, his wounds aggravated.
He'd been played.
"This… complicates things," Itachi murmured, his Mangekyo fading. A strange feeling churned within him.
Sasuke…
To maintain such rationality amidst that blazing hatred, to use a one-on-one challenge as a ruse for escape?
My foolish brother, you've grown so much.
"What now?" Kisame asked, shaking his head in frustration.
It wasn't Itachi's fault. Sasuke's final move was blindingly fast, its aura overwhelming. Neither expected it was a feint for escape. The outcome was inevitable.
But a runaway meant trouble.
Their mission was covert investigation.
"No choice," Itachi said after a moment's thought. "We leave this place and find another spot to lie low. Konoha's searches will intensify, but with my genjutsu, we still have a chance to dig deeper."
A last resort.
Abandoning the mission meant failure.
Kisame, though irritated, nodded. He glanced toward Sasuke's escape route and clicked his tongue. "That kid's no slouch, Itachi-san. He's your brother, alright, with that kind of strength at his age. Were you serious about what you said?"
His eyes narrowed slightly.
While he respected Itachi, his loyalty lay with the Akatsuki. Itachi's earlier words had raised red flags.
"…It's true," Itachi said, pressing a hand to his brow, his gaze tinged with icy sorrow. "This is the Uchiha clan's curse. A brother's blood strengthens it further."
Kisame studied Itachi's now-black eyes, faintly shadowed with grief.
After a pause, he sighed. "What a tragic clan."
Turning away, he began rewrapping Samehada with bandages, his back to Itachi signaling trust in his explanation.
"Let's go," Itachi said, walking beside Kisame. "It's been years, but I know a few good hiding spots."
He glanced briefly at a distant point, confusion flickering in his eyes, but said nothing.
At that distant point, on the edge of a rooftop, two figures sat quietly.
Shen Mo, and Ikaros, cradling a massive watermelon.
"That last glance…" Shen Mo mused, thoughtful. "Instinct, huh? Impressive."
"Master?" Ikaros tilted her head, puzzled.
"Nothing." Shen Mo chuckled, eyeing her watermelon. "You really went and bought that giant thing, didn't you?"
Ikaros shrank slightly, hugging the melon tighter, then peeked at Shen Mo shyly, leaning her head closer.
He knew what she wanted.
Reaching out, he ruffled her hair gently.
Ikaros squinted happily, savoring the touch, her hands caressing the watermelon.
"You really love head pats, don't you?" Shen Mo laughed.
"…Yes… I love them," Ikaros murmured, gazing at the moon, inching closer to Shen Mo.
Ahem.
A dry cough broke the moment. Tsunade, having appeared unnoticed, forced a strained smile. "Am I interrupting?"
"No matter," Shen Mo said, still patting Ikaros's head.
Tsunade took two deep breaths, feeling as if she'd been force-fed a bowl of dog food. The worst part? These two weren't even a couple.