Uchiha Itachi had always been one of the most controversial figures in the Naruto world.
Those who admired him held him in the highest regard. To them, he was not only handsome and gentle but also terrifyingly strong—a man who bore the village's darkest burdens. To his supporters, he embodied what it meant to be a true shinobi.
Those who despised him, however, considered his actions detestable. They argued that nearly every choice he made was not the optimal one. Worse still, he killed his parents with his own hands—a stain that could never be washed away.
But no matter the character, no matter the story, it was impossible to satisfy everyone.
For those who loved him, he was sweet honey.
For those who hated him, he was bitter poison.
As for Senju Haruto's own opinion of Itachi—it wasn't quite admiration, nor was it dislike.
Unlike ordinary readers who could afford to debate over preferences, Haruto lived in this reality. In his world, Itachi wasn't just an animated figure; he was a living, breathing man.
When it came to deciding Itachi's fate, Haruto wouldn't make a choice based on personal taste. He would approach it from a practical standpoint.
Which was more valuable to him: the Uchiha clan as a whole, or Itachi as an individual?
It was a cold and simple calculation.
The Uchiha clan, despite being known as the strongest bloodline, had only a handful of members who ever left their mark in history.
The majority were mediocre. Even if one managed to awaken the three-tomoe Sharingan, that was already considered a "genius" within the clan.
But to Haruto, such so-called geniuses weren't worth his attention.
What he valued wasn't their talents, but their eyes.
Through transplantation, he could double the number of Sharingan users under his control.
From this perspective, Itachi was an invaluable asset. Whether in intelligence, strategy, combat power, or bloodline, he excelled in every respect.
Letting someone like that simply die would be far too wasteful.
With proper nurturing, perhaps even granting him the Eternal Mangekyō Sharingan, Itachi's strength might one day rival even Uchiha Madara.
And beyond combat, Itachi was a natural-born gatherer of information. That alone made him a resource Haruto could not ignore.
After all…
Before crossing into this world, Haruto had consumed countless anime and films, but his knowledge reserves were ultimately limited. In the worlds he knew well, his "omniscient" foresight gave him unmatched confidence. His strategies and plans unfolded like clockwork.
But what if, one day, he crossed into a completely unfamiliar world? One where the level of martial power far surpassed anything he had ever encountered?
In that case, he could no longer rely on foreknowledge. He would have to tread cautiously, step by step.
Collect intelligence.
Understand the terrain, the power structures, the dangers—only then could he act freely.
It would be much like Ainz Ooal Gown from Overlord. When thrown into the unknown, Ainz often found himself fighting against shadows, outmaneuvering threats that weren't even there. But his cautious, meticulous style was, in Haruto's eyes, the correct way to survive.
And if such a day ever came for him—then Itachi would be the perfect man to shine.
It was for all these reasons that Haruto chose this moment to reveal the truth to Sasuke.
The impact was immediate.
Sasuke's mind reeled as though struck by lightning.
He sprang from his hospital bed in a single motion, not even pausing to put on shoes, and bolted barefoot across the wooden floor. He flung open the door, running through the corridor in search of his brother's ward.
Right now, there was only one thought in his heart:
He needed to see Itachi. He needed to hear from his brother's own mouth whether Haruto's words were true.
"…To think Itachi carried such a burden."
Orochimaru narrowed his eyes to slits. He had speculated on the reasons behind Itachi's defection before, but this truth was beyond what he had imagined.
He had always believed Uchiha Itachi to be cold and aloof, the epitome of an untouchable shinobi. Yet behind that frosty mask burned a blazing heart.
"Arrange the transplant surgeries for Itachi and Sasuke," Haruto said, turning his head toward Orochimaru. "I'll leave it to you and Tsunade."
"You want me and Tsunade…?" Orochimaru blinked in surprise. This was not the decision he expected.
Haruto gave a short nod. "That's right."
The truth was, transplanting a Sharingan wasn't particularly complicated. During the Fourth Great Ninja War, Uchiha Madara had demonstrated what it meant to dig out an eye, implant it, and wield it in battle all in one go.
When Sasuke transplanted Itachi's eyes in the original history, it had been Obito who handled the operation.
Such a small matter hardly required Haruto's personal intervention.
Leaving it to Tsunade and Orochimaru was more than enough. In fact, Haruto was confident Orochimaru could perform the entire procedure on his own.
"You're not worried I might… tamper with the operation?" Orochimaru asked, his lips curling into a sly smile. "You know very well, my interest in the Sharingan—and in Itachi himself—runs deep."
Before he could finish, Haruto shook his head.
"If you want to try, you're welcome to." His voice carried an edge of amusement. "But even if you gained Itachi's eyes… what then? What would you possibly do with them?"
A small laugh slipped from Haruto's mouth.
Orochimaru chuckled in return. There was nothing more to say.
When one possessed overwhelming strength, the fear of betrayal ceased to matter.
"But surgery alone isn't enough," Haruto continued, his tone shifting. "There's also Itachi's body."
Granting him the Eternal Mangekyō would increase his power, but Itachi's body was frail. His natural lifespan had dwindled to just two or three years.
That was far too short.
Even with techniques like Edo Tensei, what if one day Itachi chose to release himself, to move on willingly? Then all would be lost.
"If I recall correctly," Haruto mused, "Itachi's illness isn't just congenital. Prolonged use of medication also damaged his body, didn't it?"
Haruto couldn't remember if he had read it in a databook or some side novel, but he recalled something along those lines.
To slow the toll of the Mangekyō's strain, Itachi had relied on drugs for years. Though they delayed blindness, they also eroded his organs and stamina.
Now that he would soon gain the Eternal Mangekyō, his vision was safe. But the damage done to his body wouldn't heal overnight.
That was where Tsunade and Orochimaru's expertise would be crucial.
And if even they failed—then Haruto would simply resort to magic, or Marvel's advanced technology.
"…I understand."
Orochimaru gave a small nod, promising he would do everything in his power to extend Itachi's life.
The irony wasn't lost on him. Never had he imagined that one day, he would be working to save the very man he had once obsessed over destroying.
"And one more thing." Haruto's gaze sharpened. "You still have Hashirama's cells, don't you?"
Of course he did. Without a large supply, how else could Orochimaru and Danzō have produced Yamato—or later, Kabuto's enhancements?
Hashirama's cells were priceless.
If possible, Haruto wanted to cultivate an entire corps of super shinobi.
Sharingan fused with Hashirama cells.
A Rinnegan army.
Just the thought alone made Orochimaru inhale sharply.
He had always believed himself the most unrestrained, the most audacious in his ambitions.
But now, staring at Haruto, Orochimaru realized—
This man was even crazier than he was.