Chapter 56: Uchiha Massacre

Naruto sighed, staring at the small vial in his hand. 500,000 SP. More than half of what he had left.

"At this rate, I'm gonna need a financial advisor," he muttered. But even as he joked, there was no hesitation when he tilted Shisui's head back and poured the glowing liquid down his throat.

For a moment, nothing happened. Then—

Shisui gasped, his body jerking as life surged back into him. His eyes fluttered open, hazy and unfocused. The first thing he saw was a silhouette hovering over him. His mind, still fogged with exhaustion and pain, jumped to one conclusion.

"So… this is Jōdo?" he murmured. "The Pure Land?"

Naruto let out a laugh—exasperated, relieved. "No, idiot, you're still alive."

Shisui blinked. Slowly, his vision cleared. The blurry figure took shape—vibrant red hair, sharp blue eyes, and a grin that was both warm and mischievous.

"Naruto?" Shisui rasped, his throat dry, his body still aching from the ordeal. "What… what are you doing here?"

Naruto smirked. "Saving your ass. What else?"

Shisui exhaled sharply, still trying to process everything. His Sharingan flickered, scanning the surroundings. The Root ambush. Danzo.

The battle. It should have been the end.

His head snapped back to Naruto, confusion deepening. "But… how—"

Before he could finish, Naruto's form rippled. In an instant, his striking red hair and familiar blue eyes shifted into an entirely different face—one that Shisui had only seen in old photographs.

Kagami Uchiha stood before him.

Shisui's breath hitched.

"I think you remember me as this," Naruto said, his voice carrying the weight of history.

Shisui's blurry vision sharpened as he saw Naruto's vibrant red hair fade away, replaced by the familiar face of Kagami Uchiha.

His breath hitched.

"You…" His mind was still foggy from the near-death experience. "This isn't possible."

Naruto, still disguised as Kagami, grinned.

"What's wrong, Shisui? You look like you've seen a ghost."

Shisui's heart pounded in his chest. He had seen ghosts before—but this? This was different.

"How—How is this possible?" he whispered, eyes darting over Naruto's face, his chakra signature. It felt real.

Naruto dropped the transformation, his true form reappearing—red hair glowing under the fading sunlight.

"I'll explain later," Naruto said, helping Shisui sit up. "But for now, you're alive. And we've got work to do."

Shisui looked at him, then at his own hands—both eyes intact, his body free of injury.

His death had been stolen away.

The course of history had shifted.

And now, it was time to decide what came next.

"Don't argue." Naruto forcefully transferred memories into Shisui's mind. A flood of dark futures unfolded—images of the Uchiha massacre, the blood-soaked streets, the cold corpses of his kin. The weight of Itachi's sorrow. The truth behind the village's hidden war.

Shisui gasped, staggering back. He saw it.

The fate of their clan.

Naruto met his gaze, eyes burning with determination. "If you stay, you die. But if you leave, you might still have a role to play. Go to Kakegakure. Stay hidden. When the time is right, I'll call you back."

Silence.

Then, Shisui nodded solemnly. He understood. Without another word, he turned and vanished into the night.

Naruto exhaled, the weight of the situation settling on his shoulders. One mission was complete. But another awaited him. He returned to Konoha, only to realize his shadow clone had vanished.

'Damn… that means my cover was blown.'

The moment he entered, he was met with a displeased glare.

Karin stood there, arms crossed, clearly aware that Naruto had disappeared for hours.

"Where were you?" she asked, suspicion dripping from her tone.

Naruto quickly crafted a story in his mind. "I just needed some time alone."

Karin's eyes narrowed. She didn't buy it, but after a long pause, she sighed and let it go—for now.

Meanwhile, deep in the Hokage's office, a tense meeting was underway.

Hiruzen sat at his desk, flanked by the village elders. Danzo stood before them, his expression dark.

"It's impossible," Koharu muttered. "Kagami Uchiha died decades ago."

"I saw him with my own eyes," Danzo snapped. His fingers tightened into fists. "And he wasn't just alive—he was toying with me."

The room fell into silence.

Then, another voice broke through.

"Hokage-sama," Itachi said, kneeling before Hiruzen. "I have confirmed it. Shisui Uchiha is dead."

Danzo's eyes narrowed. Was he lying? Or had Kagami saved Shisui, just like he had saved him long ago?

As Itachi left the room, his gaze flickered toward Danzo for a brief moment. A single, unreadable glance.

Danzo felt an uneasy chill crawl up his spine. He thought it wasn't from Itachi.

It was from Kagami's ghost.

And for the second time in a long time…

Danzo felt fear.

A year had passed since Shisui Uchiha's death.

In an attempt to maintain peace, Hiruzen Sarutobi had offered compensation to the Uchiha Clan—a gesture meant to ease the tension after losing one of their own. But it was a hollow offering. To the Uchihas, Shisui was not just a shinobi of Konoha; he was one of them. His loss only deepened the rift between the clan and the village.

During this time, Itachi Uchiha remained a double agent. He fed information to Hiruzen and his inner circle, keeping them aware of the clan's every move. But nothing changed.

The tension between the Uchiha and the village only grew worse. The whispers of a coup became a roar.

Realizing that negotiations were failing, Hiruzen made a desperate decision.

"Itachi," the Third Hokage said, his voice heavy, "use Shisui's Kotoamatsukami. If we can alter the minds of the clan's key members, we can prevent the coup before blood is shed."

Itachi's expression remained unreadable, but inside, his mind raced. Kotoamatsukami—the ultimate genjutsu—was Shisui's legacy. A power that could rewrite a person's will without them ever knowing.

For the sake of the village… for peace…

"I understand," Itachi replied, bowing his head. He had no choice.

But before he could act, another shadow called for him.

Danzo Shimura.

In the dimly lit corridors of Root's underground base, Danzo awaited him. His bandaged eye concealed his true intentions, but his presence alone carried the weight of something sinister.

"Itachi," Danzo's voice was calm, but there was a dangerous edge to it. "The Hokage is too soft. Peace cannot be achieved with illusions alone."

Itachi said nothing, but his narrowed eyes demanded an answer.

Danzo took a slow step forward.

"I have another deal for you."

And just like that, the fate of the Uchiha took another dark turn.

Weighing his options, Itachi made his choice.

The later option was better. If the massacre was inevitable, then at the very least, he could ensure that the Uchiha name wouldn't be tarnished. It wouldn't end in rebellion. It wouldn't be a war that stained the village in endless bloodshed. Shisui's dream—peace—would live on.

He exhaled slowly and spoke.

"Fine. I'll do it." His voice was cold, controlled. "But I have one condition—Sasuke is not to be touched."

Danzo smirked, his single visible eye gleaming with satisfaction. The pieces were falling into place.

"Deal."

In that moment, the fate of the Uchiha was sealed.

But what neither of them knew was that someone else had already foreseen this.

Someone was waiting in the shadows.

Watching. Ready.

Waiting for them to make their move.

With that, Itachi left the Root base, his footsteps silent, but his heart heavy.

Tonight, he would stain his hands in blood.

Tonight, he would bear the weight of an entire clan's sins—alone.

But before that…

He had one last thing to do.

He made his way through the village, the familiar streets bathed in the soft glow of lanterns. Every corner, every shadow felt different tonight. Final.

Finally, he reached his home.

There, in the dim light of their house, he saw him—Sasuke.

The boy sat at the table, scribbling furiously on a scroll, his tiny brows furrowed in deep concentration. Completely unaware of the storm that was about to swallow their world.

Itachi didn't step inside. He didn't call out. He simply stood there, watching. Memorizing.

Sasuke was his light. His innocence. His reason.

And soon, Itachi would become his darkness.

His fists clenched. His Sharingan spun.

Then, without a word, without a sound—he disappeared into the night.