Kazuki's POV
The mist still clung to my clothes when the order came. A week had passed since I joined Azula, Yugao, and Tsume at the border, and just as things began to feel steady again, responsibility came knocking. An Uchiha jōnin sought me out at dawn, his expression flat as stone.
"Kazuki, you're to return to the village with a sealed message. Deliver it directly to the Uchiha clan head. The Ino-Shika-Chō trio will accompany you—they carry a message for the Hokage."
So that was that. Another errand, another weight to shoulder.
Azula met me at the edge of camp, arms crossed, chin tilted in that infuriatingly regal way of hers. She smiled—though of course, with her, even a smile looked like a challenge.
"Be careful on the way," she said, her voice calm but her eyes sharp.
I smirked. "Of course I will. After all, I'm the responsible one."
Her lips twitched, almost a pout. She hated when I pulled that tone, the same one she used on others. That mix of smug, irritating, yet undeniably true.
Kuroha's words echoed in my head then, unbidden: 'Azula, you listen to him. He's also a moron, but he's more mature than you. So you should listen to him as your big brother.'
I could still see her face at that moment—livid, proud, refusing to acknowledge it but knowing Kuroha was right. Honestly, the memory made me grin all over again.
The journey to Konoha was… surprisingly uneventful. The three kids from the Ino-Shika-Chō trio were competent, though obviously inexperienced. They had the kind of careless energy of children who knew they were important but hadn't yet seen enough blood to understand how fragile that importance really was.
We split when we reached the village gates—the trio heading for the Hokage Tower, and me making my way toward the Uchiha compound.
The compound loomed before me—quiet, orderly, and suffocating. A place where pride and silence were stitched into every brick. I rapped on the clan head's door, expecting a servant.
Instead, Mikoto Uchiha herself opened it. Graceful, gentle-eyed, she carried a small child attached to her leg. Around three or four years old at most—Itachi.
For a moment, I froze. So small… His gaze was dark, serious, far too observant for a boy his age. Even then, the spark of genius burned behind his eyes.
"Ah, you must be Kazuki, it's been a while seeing you. You have grown big." Mikoto said kindly, ushering me inside. "Come in, Fugaku is waiting."
I bowed slightly in respect, stepping in. The message was delivered quickly, sealed paper sliding into Fugaku's hands. He read it with the same expressionless calm as a man with facial paralysis. No flicker of irritation, no approval, no dismissal—just that stone mask.
When he finished, he rose and walked out without a word.
At least tell me if I can leave, you brick wall.
So there I was, stuck waiting. Mikoto excused herself to the kitchen, leaving me with little Itachi sitting on the tatami floor. His gaze was locked on me, unblinking.
I sighed. Why not? A little fun wouldn't hurt.
I pulled a sweet from my pouch, holding it out in my right hand. "Want this?"
Itachi's eyes lit faintly. He reached for it. At the last second, I flicked it into my left hand.
His brow furrowed. He reached again. I flicked it back to my right.
Again. And again. Each time, his small fingers just missed. Each time, my grin widened. His lips trembled, his eyes watered, until finally—
"Waaahhh!"
The Uchiha prodigy, future clan-slayer, was bawling like a baby.
"Alright, alright!" I panicked, quickly shoving the sweet into his mouth. "Here, happy now? Stop crying before your dad kills me."
He sniffled, chewing. His eyes, though still wet, glared at me as if swearing silent vengeance. I chuckled. Yeah, kid. I know what you'll become in canon. But not here. Not if I can help it.
I leaned back, thoughts turning dark. I know this world. I've read the manga. I know what happens to you, Itachi. To the clan. To everyone.
The massacre—Hiruzen's strongest genjutsu the 'Will of fire', Danzō's manipulations, Itachi's twisted loyalty. It was all supposed to end in blood. But it won't. Not this time. Not while I'm here.
Judging people solely by canon is foolish. Obito proved that. Right now, he's just a hyperactive puppy wagging his tail around Rin and dreaming of Hokage, not the monster warped by Rin's death. People change with choices, with experiences. And I'll make damn sure the choices around me lead them somewhere different.
The shoji door slid open, breaking my thoughts. Fugaku entered again, another man at his side—Elder Yura. His presence was same as usual. Laid-back, but with an intelligence that cut deeper than Fugaku's coldness. His eyes studied me in a way that made me feel like a piece on a shogi board.
"Here," Yura said, holding out a scroll. "This is for you."
I accepted it carefully, unrolling just enough to see the kanji. My blood chilled. Izanagi.
The forbidden illusion. A technique to control reality itself, to deny death, to turn imagination into truth. A power beyond reason. The peak of illusions.
I snapped the scroll shut. "Is it really alright to give me this?"
Yura's lips curved faintly. "It is."
Fugaku's eyes narrowed, his voice sharp. "Elder, this is reckless."
Yura ignored him, looking only at me. "Understand this: Izanagi is not a weapon. It is a last resort. To use it means you have already faced death. Use it only then."
I nodded slowly. "Understood."
When I left the compound, the scroll secure in my pouch, the evening sun was already setting. The air was heavy, but my heart was heavier. Izanagi… why me?
Inside the Uchiha compound
Fugaku stood with Yura after Kazuki departed, his voice low but edged with restrained fury.
"Was it truly wise to give him that? Izanagi is not a toy. Not even every clan member is trusted with knowledge of it."
Yura looked out the window, his posture deceptively relaxed. "It's fine. His chakra is pure yin. His Sharingan will evolve naturally. Perhaps even the blindness Izanagi brings will not touch him."
Fugaku's jaw clenched. "So you admit it—you're using him as a test subject."
Yura's eyes glimmered, calm and cold. "Maybe but I'm also giving him a way to live. Izanagi is a technique to fool death itself. If he needs it, then he has already faced something beyond his strength. I would rather give him a chance to survive than leave him to die."
Fugaku turned away, fists tight. "You gamble with lives too freely, Elder."
Yura only smiled faintly. "Perhaps. But sometimes, survival is worth the gamble."