Itachi vs Fugaku - The Battle of Susanoo's

A suffocating silence settled over the clan as Fugaku's laughter faded. His bloodied form trembled, his ribs crushed, yet his eyes blazed with something unseen for decades.

And then—his chakra surged.

The air itself rippled as a deep, bottomless power exploded outward from Fugaku, colliding with Itachi's monstrous pressure. A sinister glow erupted from his eyes—not the familiar red of the Sharingan, but something darker, deeper, more cursed.

His Mangekyō Sharingan had awakened.

The clan gasped as they saw it—the twisted, intricate tomoe spiraling within his gaze.

A deep blue energy erupted from his form, coalescing into something massive, something ancient. The spectral glow took shape—bones knitting together, forming an enormous ribcage to rival Itachi's.

Then—CRACK.

Fugaku's Susanoo shattered through Itachi's ribcage with a single flex, the force sending Itachi skidding back as shards of ethereal chakra disintegrated into the air.

Awe turned to terror.

"He… He broke free…!" one elder whispered, their voice laced with disbelief.

"We have… another Mangekyō Sharingan wielder," another murmured.

This wasn't just a fight between father and son anymore—this was a battle between two monsters.

Little Sasuke, watching from the sidelines, felt his stomach churn. His tiny fists clenched as his wide, terrified eyes darted between his father and his brother.

Why?

Why were they fighting like this?

Why did their chakra feel so dark?

He couldn't comprehend the politics, the village's schemes, or the weight of their words. But he understood one thing—his family, his blood, the people he had trusted to be invincible, were monsters in human skin.

And they were terrifying.

The ground beneath Fugaku cracked apart as his Susanoo evolved. The ribcage expanded, chakra forming limbs, shoulders, a torso. It became armored, its body plated in brilliant blue chakra, giving it the visage of a god of war.

Fugaku moved—and his Susanoo punched forward.

BOOM!

Itachi's form was sent flying, crashing into the stone wall of the compound, sending cracks webbing through the surface. A cloud of dust exploded into the air as the clan stared, their breath caught in their throats.

But Itachi remained still.

His Susanoo's shattered ribcage flickered, pieces of the skeletal structure reforming around him. Yet, he made no move to block the next attack.

Fugaku's Susanoo struck again.

CRACK.

More of Itachi's Susanoo shattered, his figure barely visible through the collapsing energy.

Another punch.

Another.

And another.

The Uchiha clan could only watch in stunned horror as Fugaku tore Itachi's Susanoo apart piece by piece.

"He's just letting it happen..." one shinobi whispered.

"Why isn't he fighting back?" another asked.

Even Mikoto, her hands trembling, felt an unfamiliar sensation creep into her heart. She had always known her husband was powerful, but this… this was something else entirely.

Fugaku loomed over his son, his armored Susanoo towering, fists clenched. He was breathing heavily, but his gaze was sharp, piercing.

"Is this all, Itachi?" His voice cut through the battlefield. "You speak of our destruction, yet you fall so easily?"

Another punch, another devastating blow.

"You demand I show you my strength—yet you kneel before it."

His Susanoo's hand swung down, prepared to end the battle.

And then—

Itachi moved.

The ground beneath him shattered as his own chakra surged once more, the remnants of his Susanoo flickering before igniting into something greater.

The ribcage expanded, growing larger, its once hollow frame becoming whole. Plates of armor formed across the spectral warrior's body, matching Fugaku's in size and grandeur.

A second armored Susanoo stood tall.

Itachi's crimson eyes glowed, and for the first time since the battle began—he smirked.

"No no no, I just wanted you to feel a moment of triumph or I'd be feeling like I'm beating up the elderly."

And then, their Susanoo clashed.

The night sky was swallowed by blue and purple as two armored titans loomed over the Uchiha compound. Chakra radiated from their colossal forms, warping the air, sending waves of pressure crashing down on the gathered clan. The sheer force of their existence cracked the stone beneath them, shattered rooftops, and sent tremors rippling through the village.

Two fully evolved Susanoo stood tall.

Itachi and Fugaku's glowing figures flickered under the moonlight, locked in a standstill, before—

They moved.

Fugaku's Susanoo lunged forward, its Kama and chain whip gleaming under the moonlight. With a flick of its wrist, the chain snapped forward, the curved blade at its end slicing toward Itachi with terrifying speed.

The surrounding trees in the area were all cut down mercilessly, now rolling on the floor. 

Itachi's own Susanoo caught the chain mid-air. Their chakra-armored warriors locked weapons, wrestling for dominance as raw power clashed in a chaotic storm of energy.

The ground crumbled beneath them.

With a sudden pull, Fugaku yanked the chain back, forcing Itachi off balance before swinging the Kama in a deadly arc. Itachi barely managed to dodge, the blade carving through the ground where he once stood.

With a flick of his wrist, Fugaku twisted his Susanoo's grip, leveraging his strength to slam Itachi into the earth. The entire compound quaked, sending debris flying. Dust and rubble obscured the battlefield for a split second—a split second too long.

Fugaku activated it.

Sokushin no Jikan.

His eyes pulsed—a temporal distortion rippled outward, freezing the battlefield within its 15-meter radius. Everything in that space—Itachi, his Susanoo, the falling debris—locked in place.

For five seconds, Fugaku was the only thing that moved.

Within the stillness, he launched forward, weaving hand signs. His Susanoo's fist clenched, gathering a swirling mass of chakra, before—

Five seconds ended.

Time resumed.

Itachi barely had time to register what had happened before Fugaku's strike connected.

BOOM!

Itachi's Susanoo skidded back from the force, going through multiple trees in the area, its armored plating cracking upon impact. The air was thick with the aftershock, but Itachi recovered fast, Sharingan gleaming with sharp calculation.

"A time-freezing ability…" he muttered, brushing blood from his lip. The fandoms always leaned towards his eyes being either genjutsu based or time based given what they know. "It seems they were right."

Fugaku exhaled, feeling the slight disorientation creeping into his mind. The technique was powerful—but exhausting. He couldn't afford to overuse it.

The attack would have killed Itachi if he didn't have his armor on.

Itachi vanished.

Fugaku's instincts screamed—he spun just in time to see his son's Susanoo behind him, blade drawn.

Slash!

The ethereal sword sliced across Fugaku's Susanoo, sending cracks spiraling across its form. The strike was precise—aimed not just at his Susanoo, but at him.

But Fugaku didn't flinch.

Instead, his lips curled into something dangerous.

Kōnō.

The battlefield shifted.

Itachi's Sharingan widened as ghostly echoes of the past flickered into existence around him—shadows of earlier moments in the battle, playing out as if they were real.

His own past movements replayed before his eyes, illusions so vivid they blurred the lines between reality and memory.

A previous version of Fugaku's Susanoo stood where it had been a minute ago, fists clenched.

Another appeared mid-strike from ten seconds prior.

And then another.

And another.

Itachi was surrounded by past versions of Fugaku, each one attacking.

His mind raced. His Sharingan spun wildly, trying to differentiate what was real and what wasn't.

Too late.

The real Fugaku struck.

A fist connected with his Susanoo's ribs—a direct hit.

Itachi staggered back, his feet grinding against the cracked ground as his Susanoo buckled under the force.

The echoes vanished, leaving behind the real battlefield.

"You hesitated," Fugaku said, his voice cutting through the fading illusions. "A fatal mistake in war."

Itachi took a slow breath, the sting of failure biting at his mind. His father's abilities—they weren't just power. They were deception. Strategy. The manipulation of time itself.

But Itachi had one advantage.

He adapted faster than anyone.

His Susanoo shifted.

The cracks repaired. Its form solidified, darkened, sharpened, it evolved further as he put more chakra toward his eyes —and then it attacked.

With a single movement, Itachi swung his sword—faster than before.

And this time, the blade found its mark.

Mikoto had always been quiet, reserved—the perfect Uchiha wife. The perfect mother. The perfect shinobi who had long since put away her weapons for the sake of her family.

But none of them—not her husband, not her son, not even the watching clansmen—had ever stopped to consider what lay dormant inside her.

Until now.

Until her son's chakra wrapped around her like a vice, until she felt the bones of his spectral hand digging into her flesh, until she looked into those terrible, spinning pinwheels and saw a boy who had gone too far to turn back.

And something inside her finally snapped.

A pulse—no, a shockwave—burst from her body.

The world turned red.

Her eyes burned.

A scream—raw and terrifying—ripped from her throat as her Sharingan twisted, transformed. The three tomoe in her irises spun violently before melting together, reshaping into something entirely new.

A new Mangekyō Sharingan had been born.

Mikoto Uchiha's Mangekyō Sharingan

The pattern was unlike any other.

Instead of the jagged, chaotic pinwheels of Itachi or the wicked edges of Fugaku's, her Mangekyō bloomed like a flower—six curved, petal-like spokes radiating outward from the center. At first glance, it was delicate, almost gentle—but the air around her trembled with a crushing weight.

The power of an Uchiha mother's wrath.

Gasps erupted from the crowd.

"Her eyes—!"

"Impossible!"

"Mikoto… has a Mangekyō?"

Many among them had never considered her—Mikoto Uchiha, the quiet and graceful wife of the clan head—as someone worthy of such power.

But the older ones—the ones who had seen her in battle in the past—remembered.

"No… we should have known." An elder's voice was hoarse with awe. "She was a jōnin before she was a mother. She fought in the war."

But even those who had once known her strength had never seen this.

A second shockwave rippled from her, sending some of the weaker clan members stumbling back. The pressure of two Mangekyō Sharingan users in one space was suffocating enough. But now?

Now, there were three.

"This is madness," one whispered.

"First the son, then the father and now the mother… what the hell is this family?"

Meanwhile

A brutal strike pierced through Fugaku's chest. Blood dripped as his Susanoo wavered, the piercing wound a clear sign of dominance.

"No!" A voice cut through the battlefield. Mikoto.

She had seen enough. Her heart clenched, unable to bear watching her family tear itself apart. Her eyes shifted, twisting in agony, awakening.

A third Mangekyō Sharingan shone in the darkness.

A third Susanoo emerged.

Her ribcage manifested in an instant, one hand gripping Itachi's arm, halting his finishing blow. The battlefield froze again—not from time manipulation, but from sheer, unfiltered shock.

The Uchiha had birthed not two, but three Mangekyō users.

But Itachi did not falter. He wanted absolute victory.

With an unshakable expression, his Susanoo shifted tactics. The legendary Yata Mirror formed in his grasp—not just as a shield, but as a battering ram.

In the original work it said that Itachi after leaving the village and traveling with the Akatsuki found the legendary treasures; the Yata Mirror and Sword of Totsuka. And I'm here to say he was lying, first no Mangekyo user had to find their weapons. They just had it. In that fight with Sasuke Itachi said many lies with this being one of them so he could explain what they did so Sasuke could feel that the battle was real. It was nothing but a show for that idiot brother of his. 

At the moment he could have just used the Sword of Totsuka and killed Fugaku. But then what would be the point of killing one of his top fighters in a meaningless battle when they had much more oppressive enemies to fight.

Itachi was able to easily break free of his mothers arm as she just awakened her eyes while he was at the final stage before he grew wings and legs. Shattering the arm with pieces of chakra falling to the ground.

Itachi slammed the Yata Mirror into Fugaku, knocking him off balance. As it was known as unbreakable. Before anyone could react, he made eye contact.

At the same time, his other Susanoo hand crushed Mikoto's ribcage, shattering her defenses.

And then with both parents in his hands now—Tsukuyomi.

Darkness. An eternity of illusions. A nightmare of his own design.

Their chakra soon disappeared. Their Susanoo's shattering, dust kicked up from the impact. When the dust settled there they were on the ground. The two collapsed. Unconscious. Defeated. But Alive.

The air was heavy.

Silence.

The Uchiha clan stared, eyes wide with a mix of fear, awe, and reverence.

Itachi had defeated two Mangekyō Sharingan users—at the same time.

He had been willing to kill his own parents.

And he had demonstrated Kage-level power.

One thing was now unquestionable.

No one would dare to cross him.

And everyone—everyone—acknowledged him as the new Clan Head.