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Standing on the cliff as promised, Itachi waited alone, the cool breeze of twilight brushing against his face. The sun sank ever closer to the horizon, painting the sky in hues of gold and crimson, a fiery omen of the coming night. Shadows stretched long and ominous, creeping over the jagged rocks below.
Soon, darkness would engulf him, but he remained steadfast, gazing out toward the vast expanse of trees. He was waiting for his friend—his brother in all but blood. Only a little longer before the meeting began.
Most likely, at that moment, Shisui was employing the overwhelming power of his Mangekyō Sharingan to turn his father, Fugaku, away from the clan's rebellion.
The meeting would likely stretch on for hours, even if it concluded swiftly. And in that time, Itachi had resolved to think. What would they do next? The path ahead was unclear, and murky with the weight of the choices they had to make.
Though their shared desire to prevent a coup d'état for the sake of the village's peace was unwavering, Itachi had always relied on Shisui to craft their course of action. Shisui had sought the Third Hokage's approval, investigated the clan's secretive maneuvers, and devised the intricate plan they were now pursuing. Itachi, by comparison, had done little but follow.
Shisui had often said that the real struggle would begin once Fugaku relinquished his commitment to rebellion. Even if that hurdle was cleared tonight, the radicals within the clan—the hot-blooded younger members, brimming with resentment and zeal—would not falter. They would adapt. They would push forward. Their rebellion would not crumble; it would regroup.
And then, what? Itachi clenched his fists as the question hung heavy in his mind. What could they do once Fugaku was swayed? This was the pivotal dilemma, the crux of their ambition. He couldn't rely solely on Shisui any longer. He had to take ownership of their mission. Only then could he stand on equal footing with his friend.
"Ngh!" A sudden ripple of chakra brushed against his senses, and Itachi spun around, Sharingan flashing to life.
"Shisui?" He murmured, his voice caught between hope and trepidation. It was too soon for his friend to be here.
There he was, Shisui Uchiha, staggering toward the cliff's edge. Blood streamed down his face from his right eye, now hollow and lifeless, the crimson trail a stark contrast to his pale, exhausted complexion.
"Sorry, Itachi," Shisui rasped, his voice fragile, like a branch threatening to snap under the weight of a heavy storm. He walked unsteadily past Itachi, stopping at the edge of the cliff, where the winds howled as if mourning.
Itachi froze, his heart thundering in his chest. Something was wrong—terribly wrong. His friend had come, not with triumphant news, but with a story steeped in failure and despair. He swallowed the lump rising in his throat, his eyes fixed on Shisui's trembling form.
"I failed," Shisui whispered.
"What happened to your eye?" Itachi's voice was calm, yet each word carried a razor's edge.
Shisui didn't answer immediately. His gaze wandered over the horizon as if searching for something far beyond the physical world. When he finally spoke, his tone was weighed down by defeat. "I couldn't even get close to Lord Fugaku. The meeting is probably starting right now, and they'll decide the key details of the coup tonight. Our plan … it failed."
"No." Itachi stepped forward, his voice firm despite the dread clawing at him. "That doesn't mean it's over."
Shisui shook his head weakly, the motion filled with resignation. "Danzo…"
His voice cracked, and for the first time, Itachi saw his friend not as the unshakable, valiant Shisui, but as a man crushed beneath the weight of betrayal.
Danzo.
The name was a blade, slicing through Itachi's composure. That treacherous man, always lurking in the shadows of Konoha, had struck once more.
"He sent one of his subordinates after me," Shisui continued, his voice barely above a whisper. "An Aburame—he used poison. There's no saving me now."
Itachi's mind raced. Poison. Death. He tried to imagine a world without Shisui, and his chest tightened painfully.
Shisui turned, his movements slow and deliberate. His left hand rose toward his remaining eye, trembling as he spoke. "Before he takes this one too, I'm giving it to you."
"No—Shisui!" Itachi surged forward, but it was too late. Shisui had already gouged out his remaining Mangekyō Sharingan, blood streaming freely from the wound. He extended his hand toward Itachi, the eye resting in his palm, its vibrant power pulsing faintly as if it carried Shisui's very soul.
"You're my best friend, Itachi," Shisui said, his voice raw and earnest. "You're the only one I can trust. Protect the village … and our clan's honor. Please."
Itachi's hands trembled as he took the eye. His vision blurred with unshed tears, his chest heaving with unspoken grief. Words failed him. The weight of Shisui's sacrifice pressed down on him like the weight of the entire world.
As Shisui staggered back to the cliff's edge, the winds roared louder, as if to carry his final words. "Promise me, Itachi. Promise me you'll protect them."
Before Itachi could respond, Shisui smiled faintly, the kind of smile that carried every ounce of faith, love, and pain.
Just as Shisui's body began to tilt toward the void, ready to vanish into the abyss below, the earth rumbled violently. A deep, guttural groan echoed through the cliffside, reverberating in their bones. Suddenly, the ground erupted, and thick, gnarled tree roots shot upward like serpents from the underworld, ensnaring them both with terrifying speed.
Shisui's fragile body collapsed under the weight of the roots, while Itachi twisted and struggled, his Sharingan spinning frantically. But it was useless; the wood-style binding was unrelenting, ancient, and alive. Every movement he made only tightened its grip.
"What is this?!" Itachi growled, panic lacing his usually calm voice. His sharp gaze darted toward Shisui, only to notice something horrifying: his friend's Mangekyō Sharingan—gone. His palm, which moments before held the precious eye, was now empty, slick with blood. Itachi's heart plummeted, dread settling like ice in his veins.
The air grew thick and suffocating as if the world itself was holding its breath. A low chuckle, ghostly and mocking, slithered through the darkness, sending a chill racing down Itachi's spine. The sound was neither loud nor aggressive, but it carried an unearthly resonance, like whispers from a forgotten grave.
"Phew~" The eerie sound lingered, more unsettling than any scream. "Thank God I arrived before you two did something irreparably foolish."
The voice was disembodied, omnipresent, its tone a haunting blend of amusement and reproach. Then, as if conjured by the very shadows themselves, a figure emerged from the darkness, stepping onto the cliff with unnerving grace.
The man was draped in tattered, flowing robes that billowed in the growing wind, their fabric whispering secrets to the night. His face was hidden behind an ornate mask, its hollow eyes glowing faintly with an unnatural light. Strands of golden hair escaped his hood, catching the dying rays of the sun and glinting like threads of molten fire.
But it wasn't his appearance that unnerved them—it was his aura, a presence so vast and ancient that it seemed to bleed into the very fabric of reality.
Itachi's Sharingan flared brighter as he instinctively prepared for battle, but the roots binding him tightened, almost as if in response to his defiance. He gritted his teeth, sweat dripping down his temples as he strained against the unyielding force.
Shisui, weakened and pale, barely lifted his head. His vision swam, but he managed to lock his one remaining eye on the approaching figure.
"Who … are you?" He rasped, his voice as fragile as a dying ember.
The man stopped a few paces away, tilting his head ever so slightly, as though considering whether to answer. When he finally spoke, his voice carried a melodic yet menacing cadence that seemed to bypass their ears and resonate directly in their minds.
"Who am I?" He chuckled softly, the sound more unsettling than comforting.
--- ✦ ✦ ✦ ---
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