Stepping through the moonlight with his little schoolbag on his back, Sasuke made his way home. For some inexplicable reason, the Academy had let out exceptionally late today.
"Why is the street so quiet today?" Sasuke looked left and right, a sense of oddity creeping into his heart.
Before entering the Uchiha clan grounds, everything had seemed perfectly normal. But the moment he stepped inside, the atmosphere felt entirely too subdued.
At this hour on any ordinary day, there should have been clansmen strolling about the streets.
Sasuke failed to notice that high atop a street lamp, a figure stood watching his every move.
The silhouette was cast against the brilliant backdrop of the moon, radiating the faint essence of a spiritual presence.
"Uchiha Sasuke... the reincarnation of Indra's chakra?" Diarmuid murmured softly under his breath.
He was, in truth, quite interested in the young boy.
When one analyzed it objectively, aside from having a slightly unstable temperament... well, that was an inherent trait of the Uchiha clan. That entire family of lunatics was psychologically eccentric in one way or another.
Furthermore, the boy was about to witness his own older brother slaughter their parents. Undergoing an ordeal of that magnitude would make anyone's personality warp and fracture; it was entirely understandable.
Besides that, the kid had a minor habit of being a bit of an arrogant show-off.
He had a penchant for making wild, theatrical proclamations at the drop of a hat...
Which was actually rather refreshing! What was youth without a little reckless bravado?
Diarmuid personally favored children who possessed that sort of theatrical arrogance.
As for his other traits, a ruthless streak was certainly one of them.
But in Diarmuid's worldview, being ruthless was far more of an asset than a liability in most scenarios. Compared to those who constantly wavered and hesitated in a crisis, Diarmuid greatly appreciated Sasuke's decisive, cold-blooded approach when the situation demanded it.
Similarly, Diarmuid could discern a fiercely unyielding conviction within Sasuke to pursue absolute power at all costs. While this trait didn't mirror his own exactly, it bore a striking resemblance.
"Perhaps, if I ever decide to take on an apprentice in the future, I might consider this kid," Diarmuid smacked his lips lightly.
If he were to select a disciple, they would absolutely have to be a genius of the highest order.
Sasuke's performance in his early years was admittedly lackluster. Though heralded as a prodigy among his peers, he paled in comparison to the standards set by Shisui or Itachi.
Yet, judging by his ultimate historical trajectory, Sasuke's eventual achievements would visibly eclipse theirs.
True genius, after all, required a certain alignment of destiny.
Furthermore, Sasuke's developmental environment within Konoha had, to a degree, actively stifled his potential.
During his tenure in the village, he possessed nothing more than the empty reputation of a prodigy, ultimately becoming a textbook example of a boy who talked a big game only to get thoroughly thrashed.
He was systematically dismantled by Rock Lee, thoroughly battered by Gaara… he spent his formative years getting beaten down.
It wasn't until he crossed paths with Orochimaru and unlocked the power of the Curse Mark that he obtained the actual capital required to back up his arrogance, though he still faced his fair share of defeats.
Only after he inherited everything Orochimaru possessed did he truly experience a meteoric rise...
Granted, he was later comprehensively thrashed by Killer B, but regardless... he had undeniably grown vastly more powerful.
Yet, no matter how many times Sasuke was brought low, his psychological resolve remained absolute. If an ordinary person were subjected to such relentless, brutal reality checks, wouldn't their spirit have naturally withered?
Wouldn't they begin to question their own fundamental capabilities?
But Sasuke was built differently.
As the popular jest went: The storm has passed, the rain has stopped, and Sasuke believes he's the boss again.
While that phrase was meant to mock his consistent inability to read the room, it simultaneously served as a testament to his indomitable, iron-clad will.
It doesn't matter how many times you beat Uchiha Sasuke into the dirt; I will always stand right back up to assert my dominance. What of it?
Across the entire shinobi world, the only prospective candidates Diarmuid deemed worthy of becoming his personal disciples were the two primary protagonists, Sasuke and Naruto.
In terms of pure disposition, though Diarmuid genuinely favored a radiant, sun-drenched character like Naruto, from a practical standpoint, an awkward, twisted personality like Sasuke's was far better suited to be the apprentice of an absolute, lawless rogue like himself.
"However, at this current stage, he still needs to be brought to a stark realization of his own utter impotence, and the fact that Konoha is fundamentally incapable of granting him the absolute strength he seeks," Diarmuid let out a soft laugh.
For now, it was best to let the script unfold naturally. When the opportune moment arrived, he would simply extract the boy and train him properly.
By the time Sasuke arrived at the primary gates of the Uchiha manor, Obito had already executed his portion of the assignment, departing the scene with hands drenched in fresh blood.
Inside, Itachi slid open a door, stepping out with an expression of absolute, frozen detachment. His movements never faltered for a single fraction of a second as he walked down the familiar corridors of his family home.
Yet, the moment his hand rested upon the frame of the sliding door leading into his parents' private quarters, his expression wavered with a momentary flicker of hesitation.
But it lasted for only a heartbeat before solidifying into absolute, merciless resolve.
He slid the door open and stepped inside.
In his initial calculations, his father, Fugaku, and his mother, Mikoto, should have been caught in the clutches of a deep, drug-induced slumber, just like the rest of the clansmen he had systematically executed.
The reality proved that Itachi's operational methodology was flawless. Had he chosen to skip the sedative and execute a direct, loud assault, the Uchiha clan was far from incompetent enough to let a single operative wipe them out entirely.
Even utilizing assassination tactics, it was statistically impossible for an entire lineage of exceptional shinobi to fail to notice the commotion. A single misstep would have spelt absolute death for Itachi, rendering the massacre a complete failure.
As the door to his parents' bedroom glided open, Itachi's perpetually hollow, tranquil gaze fractured with a sudden spike of genuine astonishment.
"Father... Mother..." Itachi murmured.
He was deeply shocked. Instead of the sleeping figures he anticipated, his parents were sitting quietly in the center of the room, their eyes filled with a complex, heavy array of emotions as they stared at the son who had once been their greatest source of pride.
"So... you have ultimately chosen this path, Itachi," Fugaku spoke softly.
Itachi's arm trembled imperceptibly, his grip on his tactical short sword loosening slightly.
"You knew... all along?" Itachi's voice carried a distinct tremor.
"How could a father fail to comprehend his own child?" Fugaku offered a small, melancholic smile.
"It must be agonizing for you, Itachi," Mikoto's eyes brimmed with tears, her heart aching deeply for her son.
"I... I..." For the first time, Itachi found himself entirely disoriented, the words failing him.
"Enough. Maintain the absolute resolve of your conviction. You have already crossed the point of no return, Itachi," Fugaku commanded suddenly.
Pausing for a brief moment, a profound sense of pride and solace surfaced within his eyes. "You have always been my greatest pride, Itachi. In so many aspects, I have proven inferior to you. At the very least, you possessed the strength of will to make a definitive decision here, while I could do nothing but become a liability to your path. For that, you have my deepest apologies."
As he spoke, Fugaku's eyes shifted, manifesting into the distinct, intricate pattern of the Mangekyo Sharingan.
Itachi's chest tightened. "The Mangekyo Sharingan...?"
"Yes. I awakened this power long ago. Yet, despite wielding such strength, I managed to accomplish absolutely nothing. My hesitation, my inability to choose a definitive course... it was my internal weakness that allowed events to deteriorate to this absolute brink. This is not your failure, Itachi. It is mine. As the leader of the Uchiha clan, I have been an utter failure..." Fugaku remarked, a wave of deep self-reflection washing over him.
Right at that moment, a sudden, terror-stricken scream echoed from the courtyard outside.
The sound pierced through the quiet night, instantly recognizable to everyone in the room.
It was their youngest son, Sasuke.
"So, Sasuke has returned..." A deep, sorrowful longing surfaced within Fugaku's gaze as he turned his eyes toward the window.
He couldn't see the boy from this angle, but he simply wished to look in that direction one last time.
Mikoto pressed a hand against her mouth, tears flowing freely as her body racked with silent, uncontrollable sobs.
Fugaku retracted his gaze and slowly closed his eyes. "Execute the deed. Do not allow the sacrifices of our kin to be rendered entirely in vain."
Itachi closed his own eyes, drawing a deep, shuddering breath. When he snapped them open once more, the trembling in his hand vanished entirely, replaced by a gaze that was colder and more detached than ever before.
"Forgive me... Father, Mother," Itachi whispered softly.
The moment the words left his lips, all hesitation evaporated. The short sword in his grip flashed twice in the darkness, tracing two sharp arcs of silver that brought forth a violent spray of crimson.
Fugaku and Mikoto instantly ceased to breathe, their rigid, seated postures slumping heavily onto the floorboards.
A massive pool of blood expanded rapidly across the tatami mats, dyeing the entire room in a deep, stark crimson.
Out in the courtyard, Sasuke had already noticed several residential doors left wide open, and with the aid of the pale moonlight, he had glimpsed the lifeless corpses sprawled within.
That was the catalyst for his initial scream.
Yet, after crying out, he realized with an intensifying sense of dread that his voice had failed to trigger any response whatsoever from the surrounding estates.
The absolute, oppressive silence caused his heart to hammer violently against his ribs. Driven by pure survival instinct, he accelerated his pace, sprinting frantically toward his own home.
From a distance, he spotted the main entryway door standing slightly ajar.
His heart skipped a beat. Swallowing hard, Sasuke stepped tentatively into the house.
Every single light was extinguished. This was the environment he was most intimately familiar with, yet the absolute darkness stretching before him felt like a living entity capable of swallowing him whole, filling him with visceral terror.
Forcing his stiff, uncooperative legs forward, Sasuke finally arrived before the door of his parents' room.
Taking a sharp breath, he threw the sliding door open, only for his vision to be assaulted by an absolute living nightmare.
The mother who had always showered him with unconditional affection, and the stern, rigid father who, as his mother always reminded him, secretly cherished him above all else...
Both lay completely motionless in a widening pool of fresh blood.
This horrific, macabre tableau burned itself indelibly into the absolute depths of Sasuke's mind and soul.
And then, his gaze locked onto the figure standing directly behind the corpses of his parents.
It was his beloved older brother, holding a blade from which fresh blood was steadily dripping. The face was completely familiar, yet the expression plastered upon it was entirely alien.
"Welcome home, Sasuke," Itachi initiated, his delivery devoid of any human warmth.
"On... Onii-san?" Sasuke stared at Itachi in absolute, shattered disbelief. His mental composure fractured entirely as he shrieked, "What happened to Mom and Dad?! Who did this to them?! What happened to everyone in the clan?!"
"The answer is already perfectly clear in your heart, is it not?" Itachi stated, looking down at his younger brother with absolute indifference.
"That's impossible! Onii-san... how could Onii-san ever do something like this?! You're the kindest person I know!" Sasuke desperately denied the reality unfolding before his very eyes, weeping hysterically.
"How much did you truly believe you understood about me? This clan, constantly braying about 'the family, the lineage'... the Uchiha have long since filled me with absolute disgust. My actions tonight were driven by nothing more than a desire to test the true limits of my capacity. And from the look of things, I have succeeded spectacularly," Itachi declared coldly.
"No... It can't be..." Sasuke collapsed entirely onto the floor, staring up at his older brother with eyes wide with paralyzing terror.
"My foolish little brother..." Itachi murmured under his breath. Suddenly, his eyes flared, spinning into a vivid, blood-red pattern.
In the following microsecond, Sasuke was violently dragged into the illusionary realm of Tsukuyomi.
Within this fabricated dimension created by Itachi, Sasuke was subjected to psychological torture, forced to watch a relentless, loop of his older brother brutally and mercilessly executing their parents, over and over again.
The moment Itachi released the Tsukuyomi, Sasuke's psyche was on the absolute verge of total collapse. Staring at Itachi now felt like looking into the eyes of a literal demon. Screaming in raw terror, he scrambled to his feet and sprinted blindly out of the house.
"Someone... please, someone save me!" Sasuke sprinted wildly down the empty streets, his voice cracking with hysterical weeping.
Yet, the dark night offered no savior.
As he reached the absolute terminus of the main street, he spotted a figure perched silently atop a telephone pole ahead.
It was Itachi.
"You do not even possess the value required to be killed, my foolish little brother. If you wish to kill me... then harbor malice! Cultivate your hatred! And cling to life in the most disgraceful manner possible! Run away... flee... and grovel in the shadows just to survive!" Itachi proclaimed with absolute cruelty.
"AAAAAHHHHHHH!" Sasuke let out a harrowing shriek of pure agony as his mind shattered completely under the weight of the trauma. His body collapsed limply onto the freezing pavement, plunging into a deep state of unconsciousness.
Only then did a fleeting trace of raw, agonizing sorrow surface within Itachi's eyes. Yet, with practiced, brutal efficiency, he suppressed the emotion, hardening his gaze once more.