Sharingan.
Hailed as the eyes that reflect the soul.
The path to its evolution is always paved with pain. That is why the Uchiha Clan came to be known as a cursed, evil lineage. This title was first given by Konoha's Second Hokage, Tobirama Senju—the "Evil Clan."
But looking at it from another angle, isn't this very eye born from the searing pain of losing one's loved ones? To feel that agony and then gain power through it—such is the way of the Uchiha.
When the Sharingan evolves to a certain stage, the Dōjutsu it awakens always mirrors the spirit of its wielder.
Just like Obito's ability.
He rejected this world, refused to acknowledge its reality, and sought to create another in its place. Thus, the power of Kamui was born.
The "Eye of the Mind's Reflection"—its origin and nature were no longer things Itachi, standing not far behind Hakken, cared to ponder.
When he saw the masked man's hand reaching toward Hakken's back, an instinctive pain flared in his eyes. His heart trembled violently.
"Ken-san!"
The sudden shout from behind startled both Obito and Hakken. Yet the battle did not stop.
Just as Obito's hand was about to reach its mark, the youth's body twisted sharply, his blade changing course in an instant as it slashed backward.
This brat.
A flicker of anger flashed in Obito's eyes. He activated his Sharingan again, phasing his body into intangibility and rendering Hakken's attack useless.
Turning, he glared at Itachi and took a deep breath.
"Seems he's someone you care about."
Without question, he attributed Hakken's quick reaction and counterattack to Itachi's earlier shout.
"As a senior of the Uchiha Clan, let me help you."
"Let me show you just how pathetic this clan truly is."
The battle reignited.
This time, Obito fought in earnest.
It was almost laughable—he, a man claiming to be Madara Uchiha, forced to get serious against a mere brat. Yet that terrifying flash of a blade from moments ago was not something he wished to experience again.
His figure flickered through the air.
The young swordsman seemed to slip into rhythm, and as Hakken entered a full combat trance, his roars echoed like those of a vengeful spirit. Each swing of his Zanpakutō sent shockwaves that rippled through the surroundings.
Now, what enveloped his blade was not chakra, but something far more chilling—an energy that made one's soul tremble.
Spiritual pressure.
Ken-san...
Itachi's eyes burned, but he no longer cared. The shuriken in his hand was ready, poised to support Hakken at any moment. Yet he knew he couldn't act recklessly now—intervening might disrupt Hakken's rhythm mid-battle.
When true masters fight, those watching from the sidelines aren't there just to spectate. There's a reason for that.
"Almost there!"
"The trajectory... I can almost see it!"
The battle raged on.
At the edge of the field, Itachi's crimson eyes glowed brighter, a thin trail of blood-tears slowly streaming down his face. He was beginning to discern a pattern.
On the battlefield, Hakken pressed on with unwavering conviction, his blade slicing through the air again and again.
For a fleeting moment, he felt as if this fight itself was training.
Yes.
He kept swinging.
The more he swung, the stronger he felt.
His strikes were simple and direct, yet Obito Uchiha couldn't find a single opening. Each time he prepared to materialize, Hakken somehow caught that fleeting instant and struck back—always at the perfect moment.
Obito dismissed it as coincidence.
After all, only he knew of Kamui's existence.
At least for now, he had felt no sign of Kakashi using the power of the other eye.
So there was no way a mere brat could possibly have seen through Kamui's weakness.
But in the next instant, the stalemate was broken—by a shout.
"Ken-san!"
"Though I don't know how he can freely phase his body like that, if I'm not mistaken, the source of all his power lies in his eyes."
"A Mangekyō Sharingan—one step beyond the three-tomoe Sharingan."
"I haven't yet found the exact pattern, but one thing is certain: when he truly attacks, he must become tangible!"
"Therefore…"
Taking a deep breath, Itachi steadied himself.
"If we can catch that moment, we can strike him!"
Even in such a disadvantageous position, he remained calm, analyzing the situation with sharp precision and offering the most direct conclusion.
This was Itachi Uchiha—born with the instincts of a warrior. A true prodigy.
The Uchiha brat.
Beneath Obito's mask, a fleeting flash of astonishment crossed his face. The battle had only just begun, yet his opponent had already grasped the weakness in his attack pattern.
A genius, huh?
And the coordination between the two…
For an instant, Obito's thoughts drifted—to that time he and Kakashi had fought side by side to save Rin, their movements perfectly synchronized.
"Seeing them… it's like seeing my old self."
Remembering Kakashi's words at the Memorial Stone, a surge of fury erupted within him. His body blurred as he lunged forward, kunai in hand, thrusting it mercilessly at the youth before him.
Friendship? Bonds? They don't exist!
This world is full of lies. Only destruction can save it!
Thud!
The sound of a kunai piercing flesh echoed through the air.
But the sight Obito had imagined—the Uchiha youth collapsing before him—never appeared.
A figure stood in front of Itachi, not tall but unwavering, gripping the kunai with his bare hand, holding it in place.
Ken-san.
Blood tears streamed from Itachi's eyes as two mysterious tomoe appeared in his pupils.
The young man's voice came quietly.
"He solidifies when attacking. That must be it."
His tone was deep and unreadable.
"Itachi, you timed it well."
Turning his head slightly, he gave a faint smile and swung his blade with one hand.
Seizing the fleeting opportunity, that golden slash tore through the air once more.
Swish!
A scream broke the silence.
The arm that had thrust the kunai flew skyward.
The masked man who called himself Madara Uchiha—had lost his hand.
...
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