Naruto returned home, humming to himself.
"This Sasuke… he's really persistent."
He absorbed the memories from his clone and smiled.
"Everything else is settled. Now the key is—when will Danzō move forward with the Uchiha massacre?"
Shimura Danzō had been released by the Third Hokage and restored to power. His movements were increasing, and his targeting of the Uchiha was intensifying.
Resentment within the clan had already boiled over. The radicals were barely holding back. Meetings grew more frequent. The footsteps of rebellion echoed louder by the day.
All they needed was a fuse.
Once lit, the explosion would consume everything.
Uchiha Itachi lived with constant tension, his nerves pulled taut, his expression grim every single day.
During this time, Naruto avoided leaving town, and even Uchiha Shisui stayed quietly in Red Sun Town, both waiting for the final night of annihilation.
They didn't even need Naruto's foresight. The outcome was clear:
Either the Uchiha clan would overthrow the Hokage's regime by force—
Or Danzō would strike first and wipe them out.
There was no third path.
One day, Uchiha Itachi came to Red Sun Town.
"I encountered a man calling himself Uchiha Madara. He approached me intentionally… it reeks of conspiracy."
Shisui frowned. "Madara? Ridiculous. He's been dead for years. Someone's just playing pretend."
Naruto tilted his head. "So, Itachi… are you inviting him to help carry out the massacre?"
Itachi's expression darkened. "The situation is critical. My father's pushing me. Danzō cornered me in private. Both sides imply it'll all erupt within the next five or six days."
He fixed his gaze on Naruto, eyes tight with desperation.
"President… can you really evacuate the entire Uchiha clan, leaving only a set of clones behind?"
For years, Naruto had projected an aura of someone beyond human, capable of anything.
Itachi had clung to that faith. He believed Naruto could spirit the clan away into Red Sun Town unnoticed.
But with the hour approaching, even his steel nerves faltered. He needed reassurance.
Naruto met his eyes. "Don't worry, Itachi. No matter what, I will save the Uchiha. That's my promise to you."
Relief washed over Itachi. His brow eased. "Good… that's good."
Shisui leaned forward. "But Itachi… if we go through with this, Sasuke will hate you forever. Are you truly ready for that?"
He knew better than anyone how deeply Itachi loved his younger brother.
Itachi's face stiffened. "It can't be helped. He needs motivation. If that means hating me, then so be it. Better he hate me than fall prey to Danzō's schemes."
Despite his words, his disappointment was obvious.
Naruto waved sharply, eyes hard. "Then it's decided. We'll wait for that night."
Inside, he burned with anticipation. He wanted Danzō himself to appear—so he could crush him outright, end his schemes once and for all.
But Danzō was slippery. For years, his real body had remained hidden. Every public appearance was just a clone. The man was infuriatingly cunning.
Later that evening, Itachi returned home.
The sun bled across the sky as he stepped down the long corridor. His father, Fugaku, stood with arms crossed, gaze severe.
"Itachi."
He halted.
"Tomorrow, I'll be away on a mission," Itachi said calmly.
"Don't run from this."
"Run? What would I be running from?"
"Running from your fate as a Uchiha. Remember… I'll be waiting."
Fugaku walked off, his words heavy with meaning.
Itachi gave a bitter smile.
The so-called fate of the Uchiha? It was nothing but the cycle of oppression and resistance. Nothing divine about it.
"Is it really coming?" he muttered. Then exhaled.
As the end drew near, a strange calm settled over him.
So long as the Uchiha had a strong leader, the clan could survive. The village wouldn't be torn apart. Even if he bore the stigma of traitor, even if he was branded a criminal… he could endure it.
In fact, he felt almost grateful—grateful Naruto existed.
Because with Naruto here, Itachi would never have to bear the blood of his parents on his own hands.
"Then so be it."
Itachi's steps grew firmer.
Three days later—
The Uchiha ancestral grounds blazed with firelight, flames flickering across Itachi's pale face. His Sharingan glowed in the shadows, unreadable.
Fugaku's voice echoed through the hall:
"You know the corner we've been pushed into, Itachi."
"Even so," Itachi said quietly, "we can't resolve it with force—"
"The Hokage's council fears us. And when they fear us, our only choice is to seize power!"
The decision was clear. The Uchiha would stage a bloodless revolution—a lightning strike to overthrow Konoha's leadership and take control of the village with minimal bloodshed.
Itachi stood still, his expression unreadable, listening in silence.
Finally, Fugaku's eyes locked with his.
"You are my son. Please… stand with us."
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