"True darkness?"
Uchiha Itachi narrowed his eyes.
"What exactly do you mean, Namikaze Kirito?"
Kirito met Itachi's gaze head-on.
Within those crimson eyes, the three tomoe spun faster and faster—until they fused, reshaping into three pinwheel blades.
Mangekyō Sharingan.
The world seemed to blur for a moment.
"…Genjutsu?" Kirito scoffed. "That's a childish trick."
Even setting aside the fact that he carried two souls, Kirito's spiritual resistance was already abnormal. The nature of the Dark Fruit—devouring and suppressing everything—made illusions nearly meaningless to him.
Before Itachi could react—
Whoosh!
A sudden gust tore through the room.
The chair Kirito had been sitting on was empty.
In the next instant, he was already standing in front of Itachi.
Two fingers reached out—
Tap.
Lightly, they touched Itachi's forehead.
The same gesture Itachi himself had once used countless times.
The Uchiha forehead flick.
Darkness surged.
A ripple passed through Itachi's eyes—
And before Fugaku or Mikoto could even react, the crimson Mangekyō vanished, replaced by ordinary black pupils.
"…What did you do to me?!"
Itachi staggered back, blade snapping up defensively, his breath unsteady.
Kirito withdrew his hand and shrugged.
"Nothing serious. I just made you quiet for a while."
"If I don't, you'll keep trying to play tricks."
This was Kirito's own creation—Dark Seal.
Years ago, after Tsunade handed him the Uzumaki clan's sealing texts, Kirito combined them with the Dark Fruit's absorption properties. The result was a sealing technique capable of suppressing chakra flow and even temporarily locking away bloodline limits.
Its effects weren't permanent.
But against an unguarded target?
It was overwhelming.
"Namikaze Kirito," Fugaku finally spoke, his voice calm but firm.
"Explain yourself."
Kirito turned slightly, hands in his pockets.
"There has never been real peace in this village."
"Not since the First Hokage died."
"Hashirama ruled because he could suppress chaos with absolute strength."
"And when my father—Namikaze Minato—was alive, he was already discussing long-term reform with the Uchiha, wasn't he?"
At Minato's name, Fugaku exhaled slowly.
"…The Fourth Hokage's vision."
"Yes," Fugaku admitted. "If he were still here, we wouldn't be standing on this path."
Kirito nodded.
"Good. Then you understand."
"I don't actually care whether Konoha lives or dies."
"But my father does."
"When he comes back, I intend to give him a complete Konoha as a gift."
"…Comes back?"
Mikoto's breath caught.
"You're saying the Fourth Hokage will return?!"
"But Minato and Kushina—during the Nine-Tails incident—"
"They weren't gone," Kirito said softly. "Just… suspended."
"And I'm going to bring them back."
For the first time, nostalgia softened his expression.
"But—"
"That's enough," Fugaku interrupted calmly.
"Tell me your plan."
"The Uchiha stay in the village," Kirito said casually.
"As for how—you and your son will deal with the village elders."
"Wait for the right moment. Then follow my orders."
"Our clan?" Itachi muttered bitterly.
"Didn't you see what happened tonight? Everyone else is—dead."
"Dead?" Kirito tilted his head. "You mean these Root operatives?"
He raised his hand.
A swirling black spiral—an Uzumaki-style vortex of darkness—opened beside him.
From within, Kirito pulled out a corpse and tossed it onto the floor.
The uniform was unmistakable.
Root.
Already lifeless.
"…You killed them all?" Itachi whispered.
"As I said," Kirito replied calmly,
"I want a complete Konoha."
"That includes the Uchiha."
"Not this half-rotted corpse Danzō was carving up."
"I didn't stop you," he added flatly.
"If I had, it would've drawn attention. And if some people didn't die, your clan's fighters wouldn't have stayed put."
Just then—
A presence settled at the doorway.
Cold. Heavy.
Itachi's eyes lifted.
"…Uchiha Madara."
The masked figure stood in the shadows, silent and imposing.
It was this man who had approached Itachi before—offering him a deal, luring him toward a shadowy organization. To protect Sasuke, Itachi had agreed to infiltrate it as a spy.
Before that plan could even begin...
Kirito arrived.
"So that's where the Root went," the masked man said slowly.
"Namikaze Kirito… interesting."
"But no matter. You'll all die here."
"Itachi," Fugaku asked quietly,
"Who is he?"
The masked man stepped forward.
"My name… is Uchiha Madara."
Fugaku's pupils contracted.
Then...
"Pfft."
A laugh cut through the tension.
Kirito was grinning.
"Madara?" he said mockingly.
"You really don't feel ashamed saying that out loud?"
"If Madara were alive, he wouldn't be hiding behind a mask."
"Nor would he crawl around in the dark like a rat."
The masked man's voice dropped.
"…You're digging your own grave, brat."
Kirito's gaze sharpened.
"Perfect."
"I still haven't settled your debt."
He stepped forward.
Hum—
A pale white halo formed around Kirito's right fist, illuminating the entire room.
"Go to hell."
BOOM!
The punch landed.
Space itself screamed.
Cracks spider-webbed outward, reality shattering as shockwaves tore toward the masked man.
"So it's that power again…" the man muttered.
On the night of the Nine-Tails' rampage, he had seen it—Kirito stopping the beast's claws bare-handed.
Even now...
He made no move to evade or defend, standing calmly as if the attack meant nothing to him.
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