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Neji didn't answer. He simply pointed.
Sasuko followed his gesture. The pristine white wall turned transparent, revealing a row of ice coffins beyond. In one of them, Itachi lay at rest.
She stared in silence, lifted her blanket, and swung her legs off the bed. Before her feet touched the floor, a pair of slippers slid into place. Cool air lapped at her ankles, but she didn't react.
Without a word, Sasuko walked to the coffin, lifted the lid, and reached in. She didn't hesitate.
She removed Itachi's eyes.
Blood flecked her fingers as she turned back to Neji and held out her hand.
"Containers."
Neji said nothing, passing her two vials marked L and R. Sasuko placed each eye in its proper vial, set them neatly on the bedside table, wiped her hands with a few tissues, and returned to the bed.
"Tell me the truth," she said. "All of it. I know you know."
Her black gaze didn't waver. The way Itachi had fought the missing speed, the constant blood, the staggered motions—none of it matched his true ability. It didn't add up. And Neji's old warnings now rang louder than ever.
"You're ready, then," Neji said quietly.
Sasuko nodded. "I am."
He began.
The Uchiha had always been powerful too powerful, with unity that made village elders uneasy. Konoha's leadership distrusted ninja who put clan orders above the village. The Sharingan's power, born from grief and sacrifice, unnerved them further.
After the war, Konoha's strength was depleted, but the Uchiha produced two prodigies at once: Shisui Uchiha and Itachi Uchiha. Their clan's influence swelled. Danzo, a village advisor, labeled the clan a threat and squeezed them from the inside.
If Konoha fell into civil war, rival nations would strike. To preserve "stability," Danzo made a deal—one that demanded a scapegoat, a butcher, a silent guardian who would bear every sin.
"That price," Neji finished, "was your life."
Sasuko's fingers bunched the sheets until the fabric tore.
Now she understood. Completely. The truth was uglier than any nightmare.
Her face looked calm almost smiling but the killing intent pouring off her chilled the room. Three tomoe spun and then changed. A new pattern blossomed—six-pointed, terrible, beautiful.
"Danzo," she said, the name a blade of winter air. "Neji, I'm going to kill him. Will you stop me?"
Neji didn't answer. He asked instead, "Do you want him dead?"
"Yes," she said without pause. "He must die."
"Then you don't know what's happened in Konoha these past three years."
A slight furrow creased Sasuko's brow. She had ignored village news noise that dulled her edge and slowed her blade.
"Danzo is in prison," Neji said. "Multiple seals. Buried in Konoha's deepest cells."
Sasuko blinked. "Impossible. He's a village advisor."
And yet the words filled her with savage satisfaction. The old dog had fallen. But that satisfaction curdled an instant later Konoha's prison made the kill far harder.
"What happened?" she demanded. "Tell me everything. I need to know if I can still end him."
Neji laid out the chain of events. When he reached the part about the arm studded with Sharingan, rage cracked through Sasuko's composure. The bedsheet ripped under her grip.
"That filthy old dog," she hissed. "That desecration… I'll kill him. Whatever it takes."
Her new eyes flared crimson, the [Mangekyō Sharingan] throbbing with malignant light. Pain stabbed through her skull; she clutched at her eyes, gasping until the ache ebbed and her breathing steadied.
"My eyes…"
"They've awakened," Neji said, offering a mirror.
Sasuko stared at the six-pointed pattern looking back at her. So this is the power Itachi spoke of—the Mangekyō. She closed her eyes briefly, letting the revelation settle. She understood now why Itachi had said what he did. Three-tomoe Sharingan could never stand against this.
She also understood something else: from the first step to the last, he had guided their battle.
Blood welled where her nails had bitten her palms. Droplets spattered the sheet.
When she opened her eyes again, she cast a glance at Neji and pushed, a needle-fine genjutsu slipping from her Mangekyō.
Neji smiled faintly. "Bold of you to make me your first test."
The illusion shattered back into her mind, stinging. Even awakened, she couldn't pierce him.
"You're as terrifyingly strong as ever," Sasuko said. Those clear azure eyes of his… they weren't ordinary. An evolution of the Byakugan, perhaps. And that white hair too pristine to be mere chance. Bloodline, surely.
Neji let the questions pass. "You can kill Danzo,"
he said at last. "But…"
Sasuko narrowed her eyes. "But what?"
"You do it my way."
He'd always spoken in riddles; he was doing it again. She exhaled.
"Fine."
Charging Konoha alone would be suicide. If Neji had a path, she'd follow. He'd never broken a promise.
"In that case," he said, standing, "let's step outside. I'm sure you're itching to test those Mangekyō properly and I'd rather you not dismantle my infirmary."
Sasuko rose and followed him out. In the hall, Izumi glanced at her, then at the room they'd left.
Ripped sheets. Blood-speckled tissue. A wastebasket lined with crimson-stained paper.
Izumi's smile froze. Her eyes narrowed, turning razor-sharp.
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