Sasuke couldn't accept what the shadowy figure was saying—he refused to believe he was weak or useless.
But his Sharingan truly wasn't of any help. Fueled by frustration, he tore through the Uchiha compound, rummaging through every drawer and scroll shelf he could find. Nothing.
"This doesn't make sense. I know there used to be tons of scrolls in the hidden compartment of Father's study... where did they all go?" Sasuke muttered, his voice laced with suspicion.
"You've already figured out who took them," the shadow replied, a mocking smirk on its face.
Sasuke clenched his fists.
"It was Shimura Danzō, wasn't it? He thought I was too young to know where the clan stored its secrets—but I knew everything. When I woke up in the hospital, the funerals had already taken place. I didn't even get to see my family one last time! That old bastard was probably afraid I'd find out the Sharingan had been harvested from their corpses. I won't forgive him. If it weren't for his constant pressure, Itachi never would've...!"
"Heh." The shadow snorted with disdain.
"What's so funny?"
"I'm laughing at your delusions," the shadow sneered, eyes filled with scorn. "You know the truth, but you shifted all your hatred onto Danzō so you could sleep at night, pretending Itachi's still the brother you loved. Isn't that the definition of lying to yourself?"
"I'm not lying!" Sasuke snapped, his voice sharp, defensive—like a cornered cat baring its claws.
"You know what's true in your heart." The shadow leaned in close, its whisper cold. "The Uchiha were doomed the moment they ended up with a clan head as useless as your father."
"Uchiha Fugaku saw the disaster coming—but he said nothing, did nothing, made no plan to protect anyone. He just sat there, waiting to die. And in the end, he pushed all responsibility onto a mentally unstable thirteen-year-old. He stood by and watched as the clan was slaughtered."
"And Itachi? His head was full of garbage. As for you—" the shadow grinned cruelly, "—you'll wag your tail and serve Konoha like a good little dog. A whole family of traitors, through and through."
"Don't you dare insult my father!" Sasuke lunged forward, furious.
But the shadow stomped him down with ease, pinning him to the floor.
"Struck a nerve, didn't I?" it jeered, slamming its heel into Sasuke's head. "You react like this just because I insulted Fugaku. Pathetic. Like father, like son. Trash begets trash. A bloodline of cowards."
Sasuke glared with seething hatred, rage burning away his reason. The shadow's next words cut even deeper.
"You're angry because I insulted your father. But have you ever thought about what happened to your parents' bodies after Danzō got to them?"
A chill ran down Sasuke's spine. The shadow painted the scene with a gruesome smile.
"They were probably stripped naked, laid out on operating tables, flayed and dissected until there was nothing left but ash and bone. Kabuto couldn't even reanimate the Uchiha during the Fourth War—doesn't that tell you something?"
"You want to forgive Itachi? Forgive the village? Who the hell do you think you are? Do you even have the right to forgive them on behalf of the dead?"
To the clan's noble bloodline—Fugaku, Itachi, Sasuke—the rest of the Uchiha were just bargaining chips.
Fugaku used their lives to gamble on Itachi's decisions.
Itachi sacrificed them to ease his guilt and protect Sasuke.
And Sasuke? His heart only held space for Itachi and Naruto.
What were the other Uchiha to him? Nothing.
For the clan to die for the sake of the main family?
Wasn't that just "how it's supposed to be"?
The shadow's venomous words barely stirred a flicker of shame in Sasuke's heart—but even that was fleeting. The shadow didn't care about reforming Sasuke. It was simply waiting for the right moment, when his spirit was weak and scattered, to begin its silent, insidious corruption.
...
Sasuke wept in silence. Tears pooled onto the wooden floor beneath him.
"What should I do?" he whispered. "I can't forgive Itachi... but I can't bring myself to hate him either."
"If you can't make sense of it, then stop torturing yourself," the shadow said softly, voice like poisoned honey. "Why waste your energy on inner conflict when you could share that pain with others? Konoha has plenty of clans. Pick one. Recreate the Uchiha's tragedy. See how they respond."
Sasuke trembled. "They're innocent..."
"Innocent?" the shadow scoffed. "No one is truly innocent. Not if they're enjoying the fruits of a system built on blood."
"Some Konoha families benefited from the Uchiha's work in building the village. Then they turned around and benefited again when the clan was destroyed. They let Danzō carry the blame, pretended they knew nothing, and painted themselves as pure and blameless."
"Your ancestors helped create this village. You have every right to burn it to the ground."
The devil's whispers echoed endlessly in Sasuke's mind.
The light of humanity dimmed.
The chains of morality loosened.
There was nothing left to keep him from plunging into the abyss.
...
Overnight, Sasuke changed.
He no longer spoke with that constant weight of vengeance. He no longer obsessed over revenge like a man possessed. Instead, he seemed... calm. Like a quiet, beautiful boy who'd finally made peace with the world.
Of course, surface-level calmness meant nothing.
But unfortunately, the shinobi world had no psychology.
And no one really cared what Sasuke actually felt.
The shadow had told him, "A villain should always appear loyal and sincere on the surface."
Shimura Danzō failed because his villainy was too obvious—everyone knew he was rotten. So when something bad happened in the village, it was always Danzō they suspected first.
That's not how true devils work.
Even when they bring about the end of the world, they do it with a beautiful mask. There are always fools willing to fall for appearances.
Just look at Danzō. Tch. So pitiful it's almost hard to watch.
...
Sasuke's change in demeanor was obvious. But as long as the word "massacre" hovered over his past, people would excuse anything.
Life at the Ninja Academy was just as dull as ever.
During breaks, Sasuke sat at his desk, pretending to read, while his eyes subtly watched Uzumaki Naruto.
"I didn't pay attention before since I didn't know who Naruto really was... but now I see it clearly. This class is strange," he thought. "The sons of almost every major clan are gathered in one place. That has to mean something."
The Academy was meant to train civilian ninja. Sure, students learned the basics—Transformation, Substitution, Clone Techniques—and a bit of theory. But even walking on water, a fundamental skill, wasn't taught until after graduation.
Clan kids had family members to train them. Some, like Konohamaru, even had personal tutors.
"This is knowledge monopoly," the shadow said quietly. "A civilian might be born a genius, but the civilian class will never surpass the clans."
Naruto might've seemed like a story about an underdog's rise from the bottom—but as it went on, the hero gained more and more advantages, more hidden identities. In the end, it wasn't fate-defying—it was fate-ordained.
Just like the ugly duckling turning into a swan.
Because the duckling was a swan all along.
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Pls Drop some Power Stones
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