That nameless genin companion — the one who didn't even have a name in the original work — had somehow become one of Itachi's closest friends. Otherwise, his death wouldn't have been enough to awaken Itachi's double tomoe Sharingan in rage.
And yet, this genin's death not only opened Itachi's eyes, but also nudged him toward standing against the Uchiha clan itself.
With Kakashi handling the aftermath, the young prodigy returned home, his mind heavy with turmoil. He recounted everything that had happened to his father, Uchiha Fugaku.
Itachi expected scolding… or perhaps a word of comfort.
But what he never expected—was approval.
"Well done," Fugaku said with satisfaction, a proud smile softening his usual stern face. "As expected of my son. To awaken the double tomoe at only eight years old… this way, you won't be overshadowed by Uchiha Rokuro."
Seeing that pleased expression shattered something inside Itachi.
On the surface, he remained calm and obedient as always—but inside, he was screaming.
Why?! Why is it that my comrade is dead, yet Father doesn't even offer a word of condolence? Not even a question? Is it his problem? Or is it the Uchiha's? Are we really what others say—cold, arrogant, and heartless monsters who care nothing for our comrades' lives?
Before losing control, Itachi excused himself and left the house. Then, like a madman, he dashed into the Forest of Death.
"AHHHHHH!!!"
He pounded his fists against a tree as thick as three men's arms. He struck again and again until blood streaked his knuckles—only stopping when a hand caught his wrist.
"What's wrong, Itachi? What happened?"
Itachi turned and saw his mentor and friend, Shisui. Without a word, he buried his face into Shisui's chest and wept.
"Tell me. Whatever it is, you can say it. No matter what happens, I'll always be on your side."
Shisui comforted him gently, wrapping Itachi's wounded hands with fresh bandages.
It took a long time before Itachi calmed down enough to explain everything—his comrade's death, Fugaku's indifference, and the cruel joy in his father's words.
Shisui listened silently and sighed.
"Itachi… remember this. Our clan is a cursed one. The Sharingan only awakens through loss. You can't really blame Lord Fugaku for what he said."
Itachi looked up, his eyes filled with pain.
"Why must it be this way? Are the Uchiha truly born evil? Are we all monsters?"
"No," Shisui said softly. "We aren't born evil, nor are we monsters. Our power is cursed, that's all. Lord Fugaku is simply bound by that curse. That's why I want you to join me—to become the bridge between the village and the Uchiha. To ease the tension between the two sides. Only when the village is stable can true peace come. Will you stand with me?"
This time, Itachi didn't hesitate. He took Shisui's hand and nodded firmly.
And from that moment onward, he stood firmly with the Dove Faction—eventually becoming one of its most extreme believers.
In a way, that nameless genin who never even appeared in the original series had become the true gravedigger of the Uchiha Clan.
No matter how you looked at it—gold will always shine. The killer of his own clan, the future prodigy Itachi, had awakened his Sharingan and stepped onto the fast track of power. Among those with double tomoe, his strength far outstripped that of Hawk Faction members who forcefully awakened their eyes through pain or trickery. After all, the Sharingan was merely a tool—how it was used depended entirely on the person.
As one of the sharpest minds in the Hidden Leaf, Itachi's potential was not something Rokuro ever underestimated.
Even the man currently regarded as the Uchiha's strongest—Shisui—was, in Rokuro's eyes, far less of a threat than Itachi himself.
News of Itachi's awakening spread quickly across the Uchiha compound, and Rokuro was among the first to hear it.
That news put pressure on him—and it couldn't have come at a worse time.
"My research into the mobile sensory barrier has made progress, but there's a core issue I still can't solve. Without that, the barrier can't function at all."
"As for the human modification project… I've only understood about thirty percent of Orochimaru's notes. The rest might as well be written in another language. As expected, Orochimaru's technology is decades ahead of the current shinobi world. If I can't bridge this technical gap, I'll be stuck in circles forever."
For days, Rokuro had been restless. Now, with Itachi's new power, his anxiety only deepened.
Just as he was about to abandon his current line of research and study forbidden techniques from the Scroll of Seals, a messenger arrived—sent by none other than Orochimaru himself.
A summoning circle glowed on the ground, and a thick white snake slithered out, spitting a scroll from its jaws.
Rokuro unrolled it and read Orochimaru's proposal for a renewed collaboration—inviting him to his new research base.
"A blessing in disguise," Rokuro smirked. "Just when I was struggling with this gap, the solution slithers to me on its own."
After having Uchiha Ashikaga create a cover story for him, Rokuro activated the Flying Thunder God and vanished from Konoha, heading toward Orochimaru's new base.
After three days of travel, he finally reached a small, uninhabited island off the coast of the Land of Fire—where Orochimaru awaited.
"Rokuro, you truly impress me," Orochimaru said, smiling faintly. "Your little stunt made quite the fool of my former teacher."
"Lord Orochimaru's intelligence network is as sharp as ever," Rokuro replied. "Even after leaving Konoha, you still know everything that happens there."
Two foxes grinned at each other, both knowing the other was playing a game.
Inside the lab, familiar sights greeted Rokuro—specimens, surgical tools, and, of course, plenty of corpses.
"What is it you want this time, Lord Orochimaru? High-level ninjutsu? Forbidden techniques? As long as it can be sealed, I can turn it into a ninja tool."
Orochimaru chuckled. "It seems your sealing arts have improved again. But this time, I'm only interested in basic medical ninjutsu—things like Hemostasis Technique, Recovery Technique, and Healing Technique."
Rokuro blinked, then quickly understood. Orochimaru was short on medical assistants.
For complex experiments, Orochimaru and Kabuto were enough—but for live surgeries? It was impossible to proceed without a full team.
Even in the real world, a single operation required doctors, nurses, and anesthetists. Orochimaru's work dealt with genetics—he needed many skilled assistants.
But medical ninjas were a rare resource, even in Konoha. For a rogue ninja, even one as charismatic as Orochimaru, they were nearly impossible to recruit. So the next best option was to use ninja tools as substitutes.
"I understand," Rokuro said. "How many do you need? I assume it's not a small order."
"Indeed," Orochimaru replied. "At least ten of each type of medical-ninjutsu tool. However… as for payment…" He smiled slyly. "My funds are a bit… tight at the moment. Perhaps we can come to an arrangement?"
Instead of being angry, Rokuro felt a thrill—exactly as planned.