Chapter 32 — And So, the Coup Began
"Itachi-kun?"
Sensing the young man's distraction, Kakashi frowned slightly and called out to him.
"Hm? Yes."
Itachi startled for a moment, then pulled himself out of his heavy thoughts and looked up.
Noticing his condition, Kakashi offered a rare word of concern. "If your injuries haven't healed yet, you should probably go to Konoha Hospital."
"The inspection here shouldn't turn up anything new," he added casually. "We can pretty much confirm it was Root. I can handle the rest myself."
Despite what people often said about his lack of emotional intelligence, Kakashi felt he was being rather considerate.
At times like this, you're supposed to show some concern for your juniors—at least, that's what he thought.
"Kakashi-senpai, I…"
Itachi hesitated, clearly wanting to say something.
As usual, Hatake Kakashi pulled out his little orange book and leaned against the doorframe.
"I'm not very good at comforting people. Sōsuke's probably better at that sort of thing."
"But if there's something you want to say to a senior, I'll listen. Quietly."
"..."
At the instant he heard Sōsuke's name, Itachi's body stiffened unconsciously. His smile turned strained.
"No," he said softly.
"There's no need."
"..."
Kakashi glanced at him, gave a small nod, then lowered his head again, his perpetually lifeless eye returning to the book.
Itachi turned and headed home.
Ever since earlier, Aizen's words in the forest had been replaying in his mind.
Rather than a conversation, it felt more like a prophecy of the future.
As long as he followed the script Aizen had laid out, the path toward the Uchiha's full integration into Konoha would supposedly unfold with ease.
Even though Aizen had displayed power far beyond common sense, Itachi still harbored a sliver of doubt toward such sweeping promises.
The concealment before the Third Hokage today had merely been the first act.
The second act would take place at home.
Recalling Aizen's expression as he spoke—the look in his eyes, the subtlest shifts in tone, every minute detail burned deeply into his memory—Itachi remembered his words clearly:
"—After you refused to attend the clan meeting, Uchiha Fugaku unexpectedly accepted your decision."
"And in the days that followed, he convened several emergency clan meetings in quick succession."
Turning those words over in his mind, Itachi stepped into his home.
Sasuke's familiar footsteps echoed down the hallway. The rich aroma of tomato-braised meat filled the air. As always, Itachi gently soothed his energetic little brother, then made his way toward his father's study.
By all prior experience, what Aizen described should have been impossible.
From the moment Itachi had shown extraordinary talent as a ninja, he had been groomed as the next clan head. He had never missed a single clan meeting.
More precisely—his father had never allowed him to miss one.
Yet, as if remembering something, Itachi pressed his lips together and decided to try anyway.
"Father."
"Come in."
Uchiha Fugaku sat calmly behind his desk, just as always—almost as if he had been waiting for Itachi.
A letter lay open on the table.
As though bracing himself, Itachi spoke without preamble.
"Father."
"I won't be able to attend the upcoming clan meeting."
"..."
The room fell into silence.
Uchiha Fugaku lifted his head and looked at him, but said nothing.
In the heavy silence, Uchiha Itachi grew a little uneasy and added in a low voice,
"There are some ANBU missions that need handling."
Under normal circumstances, what followed would have been either a stern rebuke or a long, earnest lecture.
This time, however, his father's silence stretched on—unusually long.
He simply looked at his eldest son.
After a long while, Fugaku finally spoke, his voice calm and even.
"Then do as you see fit."
"?!"
Itachi froze, lifting his head in shock to stare at him.
Fugaku met his gaze directly, offering no explanation.
Only after a moment did Itachi seem to recover, lowering his head in acknowledgment.
"Yes."
The exchange between father and son was brief, as if they had merely settled some trivial matter.
Yet not long after dinner, Fugaku once again donned his shinobi uniform and left the house alone.
"Itachi?"
Uchiha Mikoto looked at him with concern, her tone careful. "Did something happen again?"
Itachi remained seated, his hand resting on his thigh, trembling faintly.
"No, Mother."
"Nothing happened."
Just as Aizen had foretold, the days that followed saw an eerie calm descend upon the Uchiha district—once rife with agitation and noise.
Like the sea before a storm.
Only in the underground chamber beneath the Naka Shrine did clan meetings continue, one after another.
Yet during this calm, Itachi's own state of mind grew increasingly restless and strained—like a terminal patient awaiting the moment of death, fearful and helpless.
Because what came next would be the third act.
"—Soon, news will return of another Uchiha squad dying while on an external mission. Large numbers of radical clan members and Konoha Military Police will gather under Uchiha Setsuna's coordination."
"To prevent unrest, Root ninja under Shimura Danzō will completely surround the Uchiha district as a show of force."
"And you will receive an emergency order, recalling you immediately to the ANBU roster."
Aizen's soft whisper from that night clung to Itachi's mind like a curse, filling him with fear and disbelief.
How could anyone possibly accomplish something like this?
To manipulate all of Konoha as if it were a puppet—was that truly possible?
Yet whether he believed it or not, time marched relentlessly onward.
News of the clan members' deaths arrived right on schedule, and the Uchiha district—only recently calm—boiled over once more.
Before Itachi's trembling eyes, his ANBU comrades appeared at his window as usual, their voices urgent.
"Uchiha Itachi."
"Emergency mission. Return to formation immediately."
"Wait!"
"Please—wait a moment!"
The instant he heard those words, Itachi straightened as if struck by a shock.
"Hm?"
The ANBU operative glanced at him, clear wariness evident beneath the mask.
Itachi stared back, heedless of that suspicion, his voice tight with urgency.
"Who issued this order?"
"The Hokage's directive."
The ANBU operative looked at him in confusion, but still produced the order token as protocol demanded.
The moment Itachi saw it, his face drained of color.
What was going on?
Rather than believing Aizen truly possessed the power to manipulate all of Konoha, Itachi instead began to suspect that Aizen held some bloodline ability that allowed him to see the future.
Yet no matter which possibility was true, both filled Itachi with an overwhelming sense of powerlessness.
After changing into his ANBU uniform and following his teammates out, he saw that chaos had already erupted at the entrance to the Uchiha district.
Before the gates blocked by Root, shouts and curses tangled together. Two opposing tides—blue and black—Uchiha clansmen and Root ninja—stood locked in confrontation like a powder keg with its fuse lit.
It could explode at any moment.
Already masked, Itachi gazed toward the scene, clutching onto the last shred of hope.
His murmured words carried an unconscious plea.
"Don't."
"Please… not now…"
Unfortunately, every word Aizen had spoken unfolded like an unalterable script, mercilessly crushing his prayers.
"—In the standoff where neither side yielded, a Root member was the first to draw his blade, slashing the shoulder of an Uchiha who pushed forward."
"Shk!"
A short, white-haired figure stood at the front of the crowd, mercilessly pulling his blade free as he cut down the foremost Uchiha attempting to force the gate, shouting harshly:
"Everyone, fall back!"
With that single draw of steel, the fuse on the powder keg finally burned out.
Beyond the line traced by fresh blood, the already enraged Uchiha clansmen opened their eyes in unison, scarlet tomoe spinning within their sockets.
In the distance.
Uchiha Itachi stared blankly at the scene, his body stiff and hollow, pupils unfocused.
"And so, the coup began."