The night over Konoha was deceptively calm.
Cicadas droned in the shadows, and a cool wind rustled the trees beneath a bright, watchful moon.
The Uchiha district glimmered faintly in the silver light, quiet and serene...yet a suffocating weight hung in the air.
Inside his home, Itachi Uchiha stood silently before his parents.
Their questioning gazes pierced him, but he spoke no words. Instead, he drew a vial of their blood with steady hands.
A single tear slipped down his cheek, betraying the pain inside. Without hesitation, he turned his back and walked into the night.
Outside, a crow cawed sharply. Its wings beat against the silence as it swooped past, landing near Hidan's residence. Moments later, Itachi emerged again, cloaked in shadow.
"I'm here," his voice carried a quiet heaviness, the grief of someone about to betray everything he loved.
Because who could watch their own clan die and feel nothing?
The door creaked. Hidan stepped out, robe hanging loose, a black spear lazily in his hand.
His infamous Bloody March Scythe was tucked safely away in Kamui's space, but he didn't need it tonight. He was here to try something new something insane even by his standards.
Itachi set a large sack on the ground. When the cloth opened, dozens of vials clinked softly together, each one filled with crimson liquid, neatly labeled with the blood of the Uchiha.
Hidan's eyes burned hot. To him, this wasn't just blood. This was currency. Killing points. A stockpile of raw potential.
"Heh… this is enough to make me proud," he muttered.
Then, louder, "So, I'm starting. Any objections?"
"I'll observe." Itachi's voice was flat, his Sharingan already flickering in the dark.
"Suit yourself." Hidan grinned. Let him watch. It didn't matter, Itachi couldn't stop him anyway.
From inside his house, Hidan grabbed a wooden cup. One by one, he poured drops from each vial into it, until it brimmed with blood.
The leftovers he carefully set aside, these would be priceless for forbidden techniques, maybe even Edo Tensei.
The thought sent a chill thrill down his spine.
Resurrecting the Uchiha as his immortal soldiers, Mangekyo Sharingan, infinite chakra, unkillable bodies. A legion of nightmares.
And better yet...trauma. Tonight, many would awaken Mangekyō just before death, watching their families burn. When resurrected, they'd be twice as useful.
Dragging Itachi a distance away from the compound, Hidan raised the cup and swallowed it all in one go. The warm taste coated his throat, metallic and rich with power.
His body warped instantly. Black and white markings spiraled across his skin as his form twisted into the grotesque reaper. His eyes gleamed with bloodlust.
Without hesitation, he drove the spear straight through his leg.
Thunk. Blood splattered across the grass.
Itachi's Mangekyō whirled into form, its tomoe spinning into the triangular pattern of his Mangekyo. But even with that vision, he saw nothing. No chakra flow. No life force. Just a void.
The ritual ignited. A massive scarlet circle of Jashin's curse spread out beneath Hidan's feet, painted with jagged lines and dripping symbols.
The Death Curse was ready. One life tied to many.
Another stab. This time, through the other leg.
The screams began instantly.
Across the Uchiha district—
"AGHHHH!"
"DAMN IT!"
"It Hurts—!"
The air filled with cries of agony. Children shrieked. Adults gritted their teeth, some collapsing to their knees.
Only Fugaku and Mikoto remained composed.
Their eyes met in silent understanding. Pride and sorrow reflected back at each other. Their time was over. Their hopes now lay in Sasuke and Itachi.
The district became a chorus of death. And outside it, the rest of Konoha remained disturbingly silent...like the entire village had chosen to ignore the slaughter.
…
Back in the clearing, Hidan trembled, half from pain, half from ecstasy. His spear dripped, his black-and-white face twisted with manic joy.
"What's wrong, Itachi? Don't like it? Or are you scared I'm enjoying this too much?"
Itachi's blade slid against his throat in reply. His eyes were cold, his tone colder.
"Why torture them? Explain. Otherwise, only one of us walks away tonight."
Hidan chuckled through gritted teeth, but his eyes glittered sharp.
"Heh. You've been watching with those creepy crows of yours, haven't you? Always spying on your own. Fine I'll tell ya."
"Pain makes people wake up. Watching their loved ones die forces their eyes open. Right now, some of them are pushing past their limits."
"They're unlocking Mangekyō. Before death! That's the beauty of it!"
"They're about to die. What use is Mangekyō then?" Itachi's blade pressed deeper.
Hidan barked out a wild laugh, almost crying with the madness of it.
"You still don't get it? Resurrection! I'll bring them back. But not for free. Everyone pays equally. Weaklings don't matter. Only those strong enough to claw their way through death deserve to exist!"
His stare bored into Itachi. "And if you want me to give your clan another chance, then stop pretending you don't understand. Powerless trash doesn't get saved."
Itachi's Mangekyō spun harder, killing intent exploding outward. Susanoo roared into existence around him, a colossal crimson titan with flaming bones and a skeletal fist raised high.
One strike, and Hidan would be nothing but paste.
But Hidan didn't flinch. His split black-and-white face pulled into a deranged smile. He had Kamui. He had immortality. And he was betting Itachi wouldn't do it.
"You won't kill me," Hidan said, voice steady despite the blood gushing from his legs.
"Not when I'm the only one who can give you back everything you've already lost."
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