The Silence Before
Something was wrong.
Even before night had fully fallen, the air in Konoha carried a weight that pressed against my skin. It wasn't the usual stillness of evening; it was suffocating, like a storm waiting to break. ANBU patrols flickered through the rooftops with an urgency I hadn't seen before. Their movements weren't routine—they were deliberate, controlled, heavy with intent.
I knew.
I didn't know every detail, but I knew enough. The tension surrounding the Uchiha Clan had built for years, and Itachi… Itachi had become the fulcrum.
When Daichi and Rina said goodnight, I forced a smile, told them I was going home to rest. But instead, my steps carried me elsewhere. My legs knew where to go even before my mind accepted it: the Uchiha District.
The night sky was a sheet of black velvet, the moon sharp and silver. And beneath it, the clan's district was too quiet.
⸻
The First Cracks
It began suddenly.
A flare of chakra. A scream cut short. Then another.
I slipped into the shadows, heart pounding but steps steady. The district that had been bustling by day was now painted in flickering shadows and silence. Houses burned in muted flames, doors were left open like gaping mouths, and the air smelled of iron.
And then I saw him.
Itachi moved like a ghost through the streets. His blade whispered death, his Sharingan spinning like an eternal flame. No wasted motion, no hesitation—only precision and inevitability.
The Uchiha fell one after another. Men, women, even children who tried to fight with kunai trembling in their hands. Against him, none stood a chance.
I pressed myself against a wall, fighting the urge to move, to speak, to do something. But survival screamed louder.
⸻
The Glance
At one point, his eyes found me.
I was hidden—tucked into the shadow of a rooftop beam, my chakra suppressed as tightly as I could manage. But Itachi turned his head slightly, crimson eyes locking with mine across the distance.
For a heartbeat, I froze.
His gaze was not one of malice. It was not even surprise. It was acknowledgment. He knew I was there, and he chose to leave me untouched.
I couldn't breathe until he looked away, his blade rising again to finish another life.
That single glance was enough. It wasn't a warning, nor was it mercy. It was understanding—an unspoken choice to let me witness.
⸻
The Aftermath
By the time the massacre ended, the Uchiha district was silent.
The once-proud clan lay scattered in pools of blood, their symbols painted crimson beneath the pale moon. The fires had died down, leaving only smoldering embers and a choking haze.
Itachi stood in the center of it all, blade dripping, eyes empty yet unbearably alive.
And then he was gone—vanishing into the shadows, leaving Konoha behind. Or so everyone would think.
But I was not done.
⸻
The Meeting
I found him at the edge of the Naka River, standing motionless as the water reflected the moonlight. His back was to me, but I knew he was aware of my presence.
"You followed," he said softly, voice barely carrying over the water.
"I did."
"You saw."
"I did."
For a long moment, silence stretched between us, filled only by the sound of running water.
Finally, I spoke. "Why?"
Itachi turned then, and in his eyes I saw not the cold assassin the world would brand him, but a boy just as old as me, drowning beneath the weight of his choices.
"Because someone had to," he said. "Because the alternative was worse."
I stepped closer, my chest tight. "You chose this. You carried it alone."
"There was no other way," he replied, gaze flickering away. "Peace demanded blood. My clan's… and my own soul."
His words struck deep. I had always known the massacre was inevitable, but hearing it from him—seeing the torment beneath his calm—was different.
"You'll be branded a traitor," I said quietly. "They'll call you a murderer."
"I already am," Itachi answered. "That is the price."
⸻
The Conversation
I didn't know why I said it, but the words came unbidden. "You don't have to bear it alone. Someone can know the truth."
His gaze sharpened. "And what would you do with that truth, Hayashi Arato? Would you speak it and plunge the village into chaos? Would you shout it to the clan that no longer exists?"
My throat tightened. "…No. I would remember. And I would learn."
For the first time that night, a faint flicker of something passed over his face. Not relief. Not comfort. But perhaps a sliver of acknowledgment.
"You are different," he said softly. "You see what others don't. That is both your strength… and your curse."
He stepped past me then, his presence like a shadow sliding across the ground. But as he passed, he paused, voice low.
"Live, Arato. Grow stronger. And when the time comes, choose a path not of duty, but of your own will. Don't become a tool like me."
And then he was gone.
⸻
Reflection
I stood by the river long after his presence faded, the weight of his words pressing down on me heavier than any mission I had ever carried.
The Uchiha were gone. Itachi was a ghost, branded traitor, yet bearing the village on his back. And me—
I was a witness.
Not a savior, not a hero. Just a boy who had seen too much too young, who carried truths that could never be spoken.
When dawn broke over Konoha, the village would awaken to news of betrayal, to grief, to whispers of anger and fear. They would never know the full truth.
But I would.
And I would remember.