"You've got to be kidding me!"
Fuguki Suikazan watched enraged, as his victory slipped through his fingers. He was seeing red.
Then, his spiritual pressure erupted.
It exploded from him like a geyser, a violent pillar of raw green energy shooting into the sky.
Even Uchiha Itachi's normally impassive mask slipped. His expression grew serious, his eyes bleeding to crimson as the tomoe within began to spin wildly.
"Just die already!" Suikazan roared. As he bellowed, his arm bulged grotesquely, muscles twisting and swelling.
And it wasn't just his arm.
His legs, his chest—his entire body began to inflate like a monstrous balloon. In seconds, he had transformed into a four-meter-tall nightmare.
WHOOSH.
His Zanpakutō descended.
The ground didn't just crack; it split open with a sound like the world ending. The swamp floor shattered, carving out a ravine that stretched for miles. Everything in its path—dead trees, ancient boulders—was instantly vaporized into dust and debris.
Itachi was gone.
"He actually ran away?" Suikazan muttered, surprised.
"Not exactly."
The voice came from behind him. Suikazan's eyes widened as a flock of crows swirled out of the air, coalescing into Itachi's form.
'Huh?'
He didn't even have time to turn. An impact like a freight train slammed into him, sending him flying sideways. Before he could crash, Itachi was already there, waiting.
"Amaterasu."
Black fire. It didn't so much spread as it simply appeared, swallowing Suikazan whole.
"AAAAAGHHH—!"
The scream was one of pure agony. Wreathed in the impossible black flames, the massive Espada plummeted from the sky and struck the earth with a ground-shaking BOOM.
The fire erupted outwards, and in an instant, the entire battlefield became a swirling ocean of black flame. It was horrifyingly beautiful, a vision of the world's end.
—
Land of Waves – Main Office
"Well, that's one hell of a light show," Kushina remarked around a mouthful of snacks, nudging Mikoto with her elbow as she watched the screen. "Your boy's dojutsu is getting overpowered. That's practically Resurrección-level power."
Mikoto shook her head softly. "It depends on who you're comparing him to. Stack that up against your power, and it's like watching a child play with matches."
Kushina barked a laugh.
"Hey, we had professional trainers! He's mostly self-taught. It's seriously impressive."
"He didn't get there completely alone," Mikoto said with a sigh, shooting a meaningful glance across the room. "This is all Yuto's doing."
Yuto offered a modest shrug. "I only provided a little guidance."
"Speaking of which," Mikoto said, deftly changing the subject. She turned to Kushina, her voice dropping to a more serious tone. "You saw Minato earlier, right? How did… how did it feel?"
Kushina fell silent for a moment, her playful mood evaporating. She stared at the screen without truly seeing it.
"You know, I thought it would be a bigger deal," she finally admitted, her voice surprisingly soft. "I expected… I don't know, tears? Heartache? Maybe some strange joy? But honestly? It was just… quiet. A little nostalgic, that's all. Is that weird?"
"No," Mikoto said, her voice firm and understanding. "I get it. I think if I saw Fugaku, it would be the same for me."
That brought the spark back to Kushina's eyes. She grinned, a real, mischievous one this time, and jerked her thumb toward Yuto.
"See? That just proves how scary effective this little punk is. Stealing a guy's wife is one thing, but stealing all the memories and feelings too? That's next-level villainy."
Yuto's eye twitched.
He wisely chose to say absolutely nothing. Denying it would sound hollow. Agreeing would make him sound like a monster. His only winning move was not to play. He stared intently at the screen as if it held the secrets of the universe.
Kushina, mercifully, let him off the hook and turned back to the monitor. "Whoa. This guy is stubborn. He's still alive and kicking?"
"He's a top Espada," Mikoto said, unsurprised. "They don't go down easily. Yuto didn't waste all that time training him for nothing."
Sure enough, on the screen, Fuguki Suikazan was still moving.
The outer shell of his scales was charred away, and one side of his body was still smothered in the eerie black flames, yet they couldn't seem to finish him off.
"Ha… Haha! HA!" he coughed out a ragged, painful laugh. "This is it? This is your ultimate technique, Uchiha Itachi? This is all you've got?"
"What did Hayashi Yuto promise you?" Itachi's voice was low, almost a growl. "What could he possibly offer to make you this loyal?"
"Tch. What a stupid question," Suikazan spat. "He built everything here. The Land of Waves is his. We are his. He doesn't need to promise me a damn thing."
"I see," Itachi said, nodding slowly. His Sharingan whirled. "Then I assume you're prepared to die for him."
"You talk too much!" Suikazan shot back, forcing himself to his feet. "If this is your limit, then you're the one who's dying!"
"No," Itachi said, his voice dropping to something cold and final. He raised a hand to his face. "I will use my full power now."
The air twisted.
Suikazan's smug look vanished, replaced by pure shock. "Wait, you—! That's…!"
HUM.
A mask—pure white, like bone, etched with sharp red markings—snapped over Itachi's face.
The spiritual pressure that exploded outwards wasn't merely powerful; it was a physical shockwave that scoured the landscape clean.
"It will be over in an instant," Itachi's voice echoed, distorted from behind the mask. He lifted his hand, fingers pointed like a blade.
He swung down.
There was no sound. Only a line of pure energy that erased everything it touched. The ground didn't fracture; it ceased to exist, replaced by a deep, smooth, and impossibly long trench that raced toward Suikazan.
The giant Espada was frozen.
Every instinct screamed one thing: Dodge or die. But he couldn't move. His body was locked solid, trembling from sheer, primal terror.
THUMP.
A sphere of condensed spiritual pressure bloomed in the air between them and detonated, deflecting the killing blow.
Suikazan collapsed to one knee, sucking in huge, ragged breaths, sweat pouring down his face. He was alive.
Standing between him and Itachi, Zanpakutō held casually, was a man in a white captain's coat. Uchiha Shisui. He offered a small, familiar smile.
"Long time no see, Itachi."
"Shisui…"
Itachi's voice from behind the mask was complex, a mix of old friendship and new tension.
"It has been."
"Let's call it a day," Shisui said, his tone easy, as if suggesting they wrap up a casual spar. "Time to go home."
"Shisui," Itachi said, the masked visage tilting. "You know I can't do that. Not even for you."
"So you want to go another round with me?" Shisui didn't seem surprised. His smile remained kind, but a sharpness now gleamed in his eyes. "That mask gives you power, I'll give you that. But we both know the clock's ticking on it, don't we?"
Itachi went very still. 'How does he know?'
"Just head back, Itachi," Shisui said, his final offer. His voice lost its warmth, becoming simple and direct. "Be glad my orders today weren't to bring you in."
_____
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