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The moonlight gently spilled through the open window of the Uchiha compound, casting a cold glow across the silent streets below. Inside his dimly lit room, Itachi Uchiha sat motionless, his back leaning against the wooden frame of his bed, his expression darkened by turmoil and grief.
The pale light illuminated his features, highlighting the fatigue etched into his face.
His eyes were bloodshot—not from the strain of his newly awakened Mangekyō Sharingan, but from the tears he had long ceased shedding.
The weight of loss pressed down on his chest like a vice, squeezing until every breath felt like a struggle.
Shisui was gone, and the reality of it gnawed at him, scratch by scratch, like an incessant ache that wouldn't fade.
No matter how much time passed since he had helplessly watched his best friend fall from that cliff, the scene haunted him.
He could still hear the whispers of the wind as it howled around them, feel the weight of the moment when the decision had been made.
His mind looped through the same question again and again, pricking at his resolve:
"Was it worth it?"
Shisui, his comrade, his brother-in-arms, had given everything for the peace between the clan and the village. He had sacrificed his eyes. His future. His life.
And for what?
For a clan too blind to see his devotion?
Itachi's chest tightened in response to his memories. "They treated him like a pawn," he whispered to himself, his voice hoarse and barely audible in the stillness of the room.
The anger that festered within him ignited, threatening to spill over.
He gritted his teeth as fury welled inside him, a seething tempest beneath his calm exterior.
He had witnessed the elders' apathy, their lack of true grief and respect for Shisui's sacrifice.
Instead, they exchanged glances filled with suspicion and ambition—eyes devoid of sorrow. Not one had truly grieved for Shisui.
"He died… to protect them… and they don't even remember why."
For a fleeting moment, rage surged within him, an overwhelming tide of resentment and confusion that felt as if it could lift him above sorrow.
If even Shisui's sacrifice couldn't make them see reason, then maybe—
A darker thought took root, twisting painfully in his mind.
"…maybe this clan doesn't deserve to be saved."
A sudden knock on the door interrupted his spiraling thoughts, pulling him from his contemplation.
"Itachi," a voice called from the other side, breaking the silence. "The elders are calling a clan meeting. Urgent."
With a heavy heart, Itachi stood up. He knew the inevitable nature of the council meeting was looming over him. He didn't need to ask why the summons had come.
—
The Uchiha council hall buzzed with barely restrained tension as Itachi entered, greeted by the whispers of senior clan members already seated, their faces serious yet conspicuously devoid of grief.
They exchanged glances filled with ambition and scheming, and the air was thick with a hunger that churned uneasily in his stomach.
"…This is our chance," one elder stated, a glimmer of fervor lighting his eyes.
"The Third Hokage has lost his grip. Shisui's death proves it," another replied, his voice laden with urgency.
"He was murdered by them," someone declared ominously. "And now we must act. For his sake."
Murdered?
They weren't even certain how he had died, and yet they twisted the narrative to fit their ambitions. Itachi clenched his fists behind his back, fighting the anger that threatened to expose itself.
He forced himself to remain silent, listening with a heavy heart as bitterness and disbelief contorted his insides. "…It's time to proceed with the coup," the head elder declared, his voice echoing through the stone chamber like a death knell. "For the future of the Uchiha."
Itachi's eyes trembled at the implications.
For the future?
His throat tightened, his heart pounding with a mix of disbelief and disgust.
"Don't use his name like this," he whispered, although the words fell on deaf ears.
No one noticed him. They were too engrossed in their fantasies of power, too consumed with revenge and pride to hear his quiet pleas. To them, Shisui was simply another casualty in their quest for dominance.
"Shisui died because he believed in Konoha," Itachi thought. "Because he believed in peace."
With a sudden resolve, Itachi turned sharply and left the room, his heart pounding louder with each step.
He could no longer tolerate the twisted narrative being spun around him. His mind was no longer conflicted; he recognized the truth.
Shisui had dared to dream of peace amidst a sea of hatred, and now they were using his death to justify a war.
"This ends now," Itachi muttered under his breath, his features hardening.
He stepped into the night, letting the cool air slice against his skin, grounding him in the reality that lay ahead.
—
Outside the compound, Itachi made his way towards the forest, the darkened trees standing sentinel like ancient watchers unfazed by the turmoil unfolding within the clan.
The darkness pressed in around him, shadows stretching across the trail as he walked with quiet determination.
Each step felt deliberate as he navigated the familiar paths that led him deeper into the embrace of the woods.
He paused under a tall tree, the air around him unnaturally still as if the world held its breath.
The moonlight broke through the branches, illuminating his thoughts while also deepening his determination.
"I know you're here," he said, his voice echoing through the silence as the tension thickened around him. "Show yourself."
A ripple broke through the night air, followed by the sudden appearance of the masked man—Tobi, the figure cloaked in shadows, with that spiraled orange mask concealing his face and one glowing Sharingan at the center of his forehead.
He emerged from the darkness as if he had been waiting for this very moment.
"So, you finally called for me," the masked man said, an unexpected glimmer of intrigue in his voice. "What's changed, Itachi Uchiha?"
A determination coursed through Itachi. "I want your help," he stated without hesitation, his voice cold and resolute, cutting through the night like a blade through smoke.
The masked man tilted his head slightly, curiosity dancing in his tone. "To do what?"
"To wipe out the Uchiha Clan."
There was a heavy silence that followed, filled only with the soft rustling of leaves and the distant sounds of night creatures.
Tobi's expression remained unreadable, but Itachi could feel the weight of his words hanging in the air.
"Except for my brother," Itachi added, his voice steady, his gaze unwavering. "Sasuke must live."
"…Interesting," Tobi finally stated, a chuckle escaping him. "Even I didn't expect this decision to come so soon."
"I don't care what you expect. Can you do it?" Itachi pressed, his resolve unyielding.
Tobi's eye gleamed with an unsettling excitement. "I've studied the Uchiha for years. I know their strengths. Their weaknesses. Their pride. Their arrogance—all of it. Yes… I can help."
Itachi remained silent, refusing to show any emotion as he processed the implications of their agreement.
"But," Tobi continued, "once we do this, you will live as a traitor. A murderer. Your name will be reviled in history. Are you prepared for that?"
Itachi didn't flinch at the harsh reality laid before him. "If it means preserving the village… and sparing Sasuke… then yes."
Another moment of silence passed, thick with the weight of their decisions.
"Very well," the masked man replied, nodding slowly. "We'll begin soon. When the night comes, be ready."
And with that, he vanished into the shadows as abruptly as he had appeared.
—
Unbeknownst to either of them, a pair of golden eyes watched from afar.
Indra Uchiha, perched casually on a thick tree branch, leaned back lazily against the trunk as he observed the interaction unfold below. A small grin curved his lips, amusement flickering across his features.
"So it begins," he whispered to himself, reveling in the unfolding drama.
The excitement coursed through him as he rose, stretching his limbs and allowing the chakra to swirl subtly in the air around him—vibrant and stable, a reflection of his own power.
"The night of genocide... Let's prepare for the showtime," he murmured, the thrill of impending chaos igniting a fire within him as he disappeared into the shadows.
Back in the Hokage's office, the atmosphere was so tense it felt as if the air itself could ignite at any moment.
The towering walls, adorned with Konoha's historical banners and relics, now echoed not with celebrations but with outrage and accusations.
The Third Hokage, Hiruzen Sarutobi, stood firm yet visibly strained, his fists trembling at his side as he faced Danzo Shimura.
Danzo sat across the desk, his posture unyielding, an implacable expression etched on his face.
To the side, Homura Mitokado and Koharu Utatane sat like statues, their expressions unreadable, caught between loyalty to the village and an escalating fear of the consequences of Danzo's machinations.
"You've gone too far this time, Danzo!" Hiruzen bellowed, slamming his hand against the table. The solid oak groaned under the force, and scrolls scattered across the floor like forgotten hopes.
"You attacked Shisui!" Hiruzen's voice strained with barely controlled fury. "One of the most loyal and promising shinobi this village has seen in decades. What gave you the right?"
Danzo's cold gaze did not waver. His single visible eye stared back, resolute and unrepentant. "What gave me the right? Hiruzen, what gave you the right to keep trusting a boy with such overwhelming power?"
The accusation hung in the air like an unshakable cloud. Hiruzen felt the familiar frustration rise within him. "You're calling trust a mistake?"
"I'm calling your sentimentality a weakness," Danzo snapped, his voice sharp as a kunai. "Shisui's Mangekyō Sharingan technique was dangerous. With one command, he could twist the will of anyone—even you, the Hokage. You understand the risk."
Hiruzen narrowed his eyes defiantly. "He would never use it against the village."
"And what if he did?" Danzo retorted, his tone dripping with calculated coldness. "Would you bet all of Konoha on that chance? I wouldn't."
Homura, sensing the growing storm, finally interjected. "Danzo, did you at least confirm the outcome?"
Danzo shifted slightly in his seat, the atmosphere thickening in anticipation. "I used Root's highest-grade toxin. It acted within seconds. Shisui leapt from the cliff. I am confident he's dead."
"But there's no body," Koharu interjected, her brow furrowing in concern.
"There's no need for one. The report is clear. He jumped. Itachi was present. He witnessed it."
Hiruzen's shoulders slumped slightly as the weight of the revelation sunk in. "So there's a witness to Shisui's final moments…"
Danzo seized the opportunity. "Yes. And now there's a problem."
The room fell silent, tension electrifying the space. Hiruzen stared at Danzo, brow furrowed. "What kind of problem?"
Danzo's voice turned flat and cold. "Itachi awakened the Mangekyō Sharingan."
The announcement struck the room like a lightning bolt.
Homura sat back in shock, shockwaves of disbelief rippling through his composure, and Koharu dropped her teacup with a muffled clink—a porcelain echo of their unraveling faith.
"…Mangekyō?" Koharu echoed, her disbelief thickening the air around her.
Danzo nodded, infusing a steely confidence into his demeanor. "The death of his best friend. The perfect emotional catalyst."
Hiruzen's gaze dropped, tension radiating from him. "So now the Uchiha have another Mangekyō wielder…"
"Another potential threat," Danzo corrected, his voice devoid of compassion. "Just as Lord Tobirama warned."
Homura exhaled slowly as the implications became painfully clear. "The power of the Mangekyō is far greater than the average Sharingan. What if Itachi turns against the village?"
Danzo chuckled darkly, a sound devoid of mirth. "Then we'll kill him too."
Hiruzen's glare returned with renewed fire. "You speak too easily of killing Konoha's own."
Danzo looked toward the window, the moonlight casting a pale glow over his scarred face, tainting him in a sinister light. "Because I understand what you do not. Sacrifice is necessary. One life for the safety of thousands—that's the cost of peace."
Koharu frowned, her brow knit with concern. "But if the Uchiha learn of Shisui's death…?"
"They already know he's dead," Danzo interrupted insistently. "But here's the critical detail—Itachi was the last person to see him. If the Uchiha find out, they may suspect him."
Homura spoke hesitantly, weighing the gravity of the situation. "Are you… suggesting we use this?"
Danzo nodded, the spark in his eye turning cold and calculated. "Let them turn on each other. It makes our job easier."
Hiruzen's hand clenched into a fist, rage coursing through him. "This is not how we lead."
Danzo's tone was chilling as he replied, "This is how we survive."
The room fell into a heavy silence, as if the weight of their grim decisions pressed down like a shroud. Walls adorned with the creed of unity now felt like prisons where betrayal festered.
After several moments, Hiruzen sank back into his chair, a weary expression dragging his features down. "So much blood... and for what?"
Danzo's voice softened, almost conspiratorial. "For peace, Hiruzen. For peace."
Outside the Hokage building, the night stretched endlessly, with the faint red hue of the moon casting an eerie glow over the Hidden Leaf Village. Something about it felt unnatural—as if the heavens themselves were warning of the storm to come and the sacrifices that lay ahead.
Back within the dark alleys of the village, Indra Uchiha stood atop a rooftop, watching the Hokage building from afar.
His golden eyes narrowed as he smirked to himself, amusement dancing across his features.
"The village squabbles, the clan plots… and all of them dance to fate's design," he murmured, a thrill of anticipation coursing through him.
He adjusted his cloak, the fabric billowing subtly, masking the energy concealed beneath his skin.
The power of the Eternal Mangekyō Sharingan pulsed within him, stronger than ever—a force amplified by his actions, having devoured Shisui's abilities.
With one final glance at the chaos below, he turned and vanished into the shadows of the night, the thrill of what was to come igniting excitement in his heart.
---
End of Chapter
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