Chapter 4: A Silent Oath

The Uchiha compound felt different at night. During the day, it was a place of order and discipline, but when the sun set, shadows stretched across the streets, and the silence became something else entirely. A warning. A reminder that things were not as stable as they seemed.

I sat on the roof of my home, watching the glow of lanterns flicker across the district. I had spent the evening training, pushing my body and chakra control further, but my mind refused to rest. My conversation with Sasuke still lingered in my head. He was trying to chase after Itachi, desperate to prove himself. But he wasn't the only one growing impatient.

The clan was restless. I could see it in the way my father spoke in hushed tones with other Uchiha, the way their eyes hardened when they mentioned the village. Konoha's trust in the Uchiha had been weakening for years, and the clan knew it. Something was coming, and when it did, I needed to be ready.

I heard movement behind me.

"You're always up here," Itachi said as he stepped onto the roof, his voice calm as ever. He had a way of moving so quietly that most people wouldn't even notice him. But I wasn't most people.

I didn't look at him. "So are you."

He let out a quiet breath of amusement and sat down beside me. "Sasuke's been talking about you a lot."

I raised an eyebrow. "Good things, I hope."

"He admires you," Itachi said, his tone unreadable. "He doesn't say it, but it's obvious. You're different from the other kids, and he notices that."

I leaned back on my hands, watching the stars. "And what about you? What do you think?"

Itachi was silent for a long moment. Then he spoke, his voice quieter than before. "I think you're going to change things."

I turned my head slightly, meeting his gaze. His expression was unreadable, but there was something behind his eyes—something calculating.

"You don't say things like that lightly," I murmured.

"No," he admitted. "I don't."

I studied him for a moment before looking away. "Things are getting worse, aren't they?"

Itachi didn't answer immediately. "Yes."

That one word carried weight. He wasn't just talking about the growing tension between the Uchiha and the village. He was talking about something else. Something bigger.

I had suspected for a while that he was involved in things far beyond what people realized. His missions, his secrecy, the way he always seemed to know more than he let on. It was as if he was carrying a burden no one else could see.

"You don't agree with the clan, do you?" I asked.

Itachi's shoulders tensed slightly. He was quiet for a moment before responding. "I want peace, Raiden. But peace isn't as simple as people think."

I understood what he meant. The Uchiha wanted power, but Konoha wanted control. Neither side would back down. A clash was inevitable.

"You can't stop what's coming, can you?" I asked.

Itachi closed his eyes briefly before shaking his head. "No."

That answer told me everything I needed to know.

The Uchiha Clan's fate was sealed.

I exhaled slowly, looking back up at the sky. I had hoped that maybe, just maybe, I could change things before they spiraled out of control. But if even Itachi—one of the strongest and smartest among us—couldn't stop it, then my chances were slim.

But that didn't mean I wouldn't try.

I looked back at Itachi. "What are you going to do?"

It was a dangerous question, one he wouldn't answer directly. He couldn't.

His gaze lingered on me for a moment before he stood up. "Take care of Sasuke," he said.

It wasn't a request. It was a plea. A silent oath between us.

I nodded. "I will."

He gave me one last look before disappearing into the night.

I sat there for a long time after he left, the weight of his words settling deep into my bones. The future was set in motion, and I was caught in the middle of it. But I wouldn't stand by and watch everything fall apart.

If I couldn't stop the massacre, then I would survive it. And when the time came, I would make sure those responsible paid the price.

Even if it meant walking a path of my own.