Am I afraid of death?
Itachi's dark eyes narrowed slightly at Artoria's question, then gradually dimmed.
He had spent so long pondering the meaning of life, but never once had he considered the meaning of death.
Was it possible… that in the moment people died, they were actually at peace? That even if they clung to this world on the surface, their hearts had already let go?
And if that were true… then maybe he should try to experience death in a slow, deliberate way.
Maybe… jumping off a cliff wouldn't be such a bad option.
Standing at the edge of a high precipice, feeling the wind lift his body with a gentle buoyancy.
But his body would be too heavy for the breeze to hold him. He'd continue falling, straight down.
And during that fall… he could quietly contemplate what death really meant.
This child… he keeps thinking about things no child his age should be thinking about.
Artoria watched him with a look of quiet sorrow.
Even she, a being born of the Red Dragon, would never have stayed this calm if she'd been alone at this age in such a perilous place.
What kind of life… could force a child to mature like this?
A ninja's life. The Uchiha name. Training. Clan honor...
When she searched Itachi's memories, all she saw were lessons on survival, on chakra control, physical drills, and mental conditioning.
And then it hit her.
She'd taken it for granted—thinking of training as normal. But she had overlooked one crucial fact.
This boy was just a child.
That realization struck her like a blade, piercing with unexpected grief.
He was only five… yet in his memories, there were no toys, no games, no joy. Just discipline.
Just death.
After a long silence, Artoria sat down among the tangled weeds. Her voice softened as she spoke.
"Itachi… may I ask why you're asking these things?"
Even as she settled into the dirt, every gesture radiated grace and discipline. Her back remained perfectly straight—like a sword that had never bent.
Itachi, still in the hollow, considered how to respond.
"You don't need to hide anything from me," Artoria continued, folding her hands neatly over her lap. "You already know—we shared our memories while you were unconscious."
"That means, at least for now, there are no secrets between us."
"That includes the way you've always suppressed yourself—your emotions, your speech, your expressions."
Since birth, this child had known nothing but a world of cold ninja logic. Other than his parents, there had been no warmth, no companionship. Fugaku had taught him one thing only—how to survive… and how to kill.
Since stepping onto the battlefield late last year, Itachi had already become accustomed to witnessing death.
What must it be like, growing up in an environment like that?
Artoria had her guesses. Because in him, she saw a reflection of herself.
Only… his path had been far more cruel.
After a moment, Itachi nodded calmly.
"You're right," he said. "There are no secrets between us."
"I want to ask you: what does war mean to a king?"
"What does life mean… to a king?"
He paused, then added softly, "Until now, I believed life had no meaning."
"My father has always taught me how to survive. How to fight. He wants me to live—to become an outstanding ninja. To carry the honor of our clan."
"So for a long time, I thought survival was everything."
He reached his arm out of the tree hollow, letting his small hand rest beneath the pale moonlight.
There, on his palm, were smears of blood—dried dark red.
It had splattered onto him earlier. Now, it clung to his skin like a blooming flower.
"But after coming to the battlefield, I realized… living isn't really that important."
"Everyone seems to want to live. But they all keep starting wars anyway."
"My father said it's not just people fighting each other. It's nations. Villages. Even strangers who've never met must draw blades simply because they're on opposite sides."
"But why? Is it because… under the weight of nations and villages, individual lives become too small to matter?"
His voice trembled slightly—not with fear, but with uncertainty.
He wasn't just curious. He was lost.
And Artoria, who had thought she'd seen it all, found herself caught off guard.
He was asking questions she had never dared to ask at that age.
No—questions she had never even considered.
She no longer saw him as a child. He wasn't simply a boy anymore. He was… a seeker. A soul searching for answers.
She took a breath, then began.
"I am not… a very good teacher," she said gently. "I've never guided anyone before. Never told anyone what path to take."
"But if you truly want to know… I'll share what I believe. As a story."
"After all, you already hold my memories. This won't be a secret."
She paused, then continued slowly.
"To me… war is both destruction and rebirth."
"Many things are born from the flames of war. Many things also perish within it. It's like a cycle—unending, eternal."
"But that doesn't mean an individual life is weak."
She rose from the grass, her figure bathed in moonlight.
"Every person, every family, every village and town—when joined together, they form what we call a nation."
"A nation exists because of its people. And in return, its people must sometimes offer themselves to protect it."
Her voice was steady, unwavering. Her posture regal, unshakable—like a queen who had never known fatigue.
Then, all at once, her aura changed.
A fierce, radiant energy surged from her body. The white fur cloak draped over her shoulders lifted slightly as if caught in a sudden gust—though there was no wind.
Moonlight danced across her emerald eyes as she gazed down at the boy nestled in the hollow below her.
"First," she declared, "you asked what war means to a king. My answer: war is destruction and rebirth."
"Second, you asked what life means to a king. My answer: life is to be given—willingly, proudly—to protect one's nation."
"And third, you asked whether life is weak in the eyes of a country. My answer: No. Your presence on this battlefield is proof—you are not weak."
"Itachi, you are young—but so was I, once."
"I stood with my knights and protected Britain from those who sought to invade. And now, you and your clan fight to protect the Land of Fire from foreign threats."
"Your lives are not meaningless."
Her voice no longer held the gentleness it had before.
Now it was commanding. Cold. Noble.
And yet… somewhere in her words, Itachi felt something else.
A spark of something he couldn't quite name.
Something he had only ever sensed from one person before—his father, when he spoke of the Uchiha name.
That something… was honor.
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Hey everyone! I'll be dropping an extra 1 chapter once we hit 200, 400 power stones! If you're enjoying the story, don't forget to spend some power stones. I'd really appreciate the support. Thanks a bunch!