Sasuke vs. Itachi (Part One)
"Hmph. So you still don't believe me," Itachi said quietly, his gaze fixed on Sasuke. "That's unfortunate. The truth doesn't change just because you reject it."
He took a slow step forward.
"Hand over your eyes, Sasuke. Become part of me. Together, we'll reach a new height."
Sasuke didn't raise his voice. He didn't need to.
"I decide what the truth is for myself."
His hand tightened around the hilt of his sword.
"And no matter what you think your reasons were, I'll kill you. For Father. For Mother. For the clan you slaughtered. This ends with your blood."
The blade slid free with a clean metallic whisper.
"And after you," Sasuke continued evenly, "I'll hunt down Madara. Whether he's really one of Konoha's founders or just a ghost hiding behind a legend, I'll kill him too."
Itachi adjusted his cloak, expression unreadable.
"A pity. You can't defeat me. And Madara is far beyond you."
Sasuke didn't rush him.
Instead, his mind drifted back to their first meeting after the massacre. Back when he couldn't control his emotions. Back when Itachi's genjutsu had crushed him instantly, before he could even strike. If not for Fujimoto Tōma treating him afterward, he might have been bedridden for months.
That version of him was gone.
This time is different.
When they moved, it was as if they shared the same thought.
Shuriken flashed into their hands.
The air exploded with steel.
Dozens of blades screamed toward each other, intercepted mid-flight by matching throws. Sparks burst endlessly between them, metal colliding with metal in a relentless storm. Their Sharingan spun without pause, tracking every trajectory, every angle, every fraction of a second.
One mistake. Just one. That was all it would take.
This wasn't just a shuriken exchange. It was a duel only Uchiha could perform.
The Hyūga's Byakugan might surpass them in vision, but shuriken mastery had always been the Uchiha's domain. Precision, prediction, and lethal efficiency.
High above, concealed within the rock, Zetsu observed in silence.
White Zetsu frowned. "They're not even moving much."
Black Zetsu's voice rasped softly. "They were fighting with genjutsu earlier."
Now, watching the blinding exchange below, even White Zetsu couldn't help but marvel. The attacks weren't flashy. The raw power wasn't overwhelming. Yet almost no one alive could keep up with this kind of battle.
"It should be about over," White Zetsu muttered. "Itachi has more than shuriken."
"Watch," Black Zetsu replied.
"But Sasuke's already been caught in Tsukuyomi, hasn't he? No one's ever broken that."
Black Zetsu said nothing.
Below, Itachi was breathing heavily. His chest rose and fell as he stared at Sasuke.
It worked…
Or so he thought.
Without warning, Itachi's knees buckled. He dropped to one knee, staring up in disbelief.
"You… actually broke Tsukuyomi?!"
Sasuke's eyes burned with cold certainty.
"I told you. I've seen a path you never did. I'll deny everything about you. Including your Tsukuyomi."
No more words followed.
Genjutsu had failed. So they escalated.
Ninjutsu tore through the battlefield. Lightning cracked as Sasuke drove forward with Chidori, weaving through techniques with sharp timing and brutal efficiency. His control, his adaptability, his growth—it all forced even Itachi to acknowledge it.
He's come this far…
Itachi clenched his teeth. His body was failing. His chakra was nearly spent. Even so, he couldn't stop yet.
His Mangekyō blurred, vision collapsing inward, and black flames ignited.
Amaterasu.
The inextinguishable fire surged toward Sasuke, devouring everything it touched. Sasuke dodged again and again, movements precise to the edge of perfection. Blood streamed from Itachi's eyes. His remaining ocular power was almost gone.
At last, he summoned it.
Susanoo rose in burning crimson, towering and wrathful.
And with it, Itachi's life finally reached its limit.
Dragging a body already half in the grave, Itachi advanced within the blazing armor, closing the distance to a stunned Sasuke.
Why…?
Why was Sasuke's face still so unclear?
Was this his punishment?
There was no time left to think.
With the last of his strength, Itachi lifted his hand and tapped Sasuke's forehead gently, just as he had when they were children.
Then his life faded.
Itachi Uchiha collapsed at Sasuke's feet.
A faint smile lingered on his lips.
So… it ends here.
Sasuke would take his eyes next. Even if he resisted the idea, he'd need the Eternal Mangekyō to face Madara.
And Itachi had already prepared one final safeguard within him.
As darkness closed in, light returned.
He saw them.
His parents. Uchiha Fugaku. Uchiha Mikoto.
So this was the afterlife.
Itachi tried to speak. The words wouldn't come. All he could do was apologize, again and again.
Time passed. Forgiveness came. Slowly.
And then… doubt.
Could what he'd done truly be forgiven?
And Sasuke's Mangekyō… what was its power? Why had he never seen it?
"Itachi," Mikoto asked softly, sadness in her eyes. "Are you leaving again?"
He opened his mouth—
Her expression twisted.
"If you're leaving," she said coldly, drawing a kitchen knife, "then even if your soul shatters, we'll keep you here."
The blade fell.
Pain tore through him.
The world shifted. He was bound to an execution platform, surrounded by the clan he had killed. Their faces burned with hatred.
"Why leave?"
"Pay for our deaths!"
Knives plunged into him again and again. His mind fractured under the agony.
Eventually, he broke free.
Sword in hand, empty-eyed, he slaughtered them once more.
At last, he stood before his parents, blade dripping red.
"Will you kill us again?" they asked.
"You're already dead," Itachi whispered.
The sword fell.
The world shattered.
He was back at the battlefield.
Kneeling. Gasping.
Sasuke stood before him.
"…Your ability," Itachi rasped. "Is it also Tsukuyomi?"