"That was your fault!"
"It was totally on you! Why didn't you step up and block that wave?"
"And where were you?"
Listening to the cacophony of hushed, blame-filled whispers surrounding him, Masahiko allowed a faint smile to touch his lips.
The System's "brilliant" matchmaking algorithm never failed to generate heat.
Clearly, the vast majority of students were less than thrilled with their assigned teammates. This included Ino and Chōji, who had been separated from Shikamaru. Without their strategic brain, the two were like limbs severed from a body—each acting on their own impulses, unable to coordinate a single coherent play.
For many, a simple sparring session had become the fuse that blew their friendships apart.
Time slipped away unnoticed. The two classes battled from early afternoon well into the night.
Eventually, Masahiko stood up and excused himself, citing a need to use the restroom.
A few moments later, he returned from the bathroom, looking exactly the same as before. However, on the far side of the Academy, inside an equipment room distant from the training grounds, a shadow moved.
He had donned a pre-prepared black robe and a mask. After applying the Transformation Jutsu to completely alter his silhouette, Masahiko was ready. With a flicker of movement, he vanished into the night using the Body Flicker Technique.
The school playground was still brightly lit, the students eagerly awaiting Sasuke's turn to take the stage for the most anticipated match of the day.
But miles away, on the outskirts of the village, darkness had already swallowed the world.
Perched atop a utility pole, a figure looked down upon the compound of the Konoha Military Police Force. His hand rested on the hilt of the sword strapped to his back.
"Itachi. Since you have made your decision, do not hesitate."
Beside him, a cold, emotionless voice urged him into action.
Itachi took a deep breath. "You promised me. You won't go back on your word, right?"
"Of course."
A low chuckle emerged from beneath the orange spiral mask. "Besides, you are the person I trust most. naturally, your treatment will differ from the others."
"Fine," Itachi replied, his voice hardening. "Then... we take the Police Force together. We cannot let a single person escape. After that, we deal with the rest of the clan members who have awakened their eyes."
"Many of them are gathering as we speak. Just ensure no one flees. Leave the rest to me."
"Understood."
Itachi responded curtly. The tomoe in his eyes spun wildly, coalescing into a distinct, triangular pinwheel pattern.
In the next instant, he vanished.
Inside the Konoha Military Police Force Headquarters.
Uchiha Inabi's eyes were filled with anxiety. "Yashiro-sama, with Shisui having defected and Itachi's loyalty uncertain... can we really win this?"
"We can win," Uchiha Yashiro answered firmly. "Our clan's Visual Prowess possesses infinite potential. The more critical the situation, the more explosive our power becomes."
He swept his gaze across the gathered officers.
"As long as we work together, Konoha will inevitably be ours! Do not doubt it. We are walking the righteous path. Victory belongs to the Uchiha!"
Yashiro's voice was impassioned, a rousing call to arms. Listening to his words, the restless hearts of the conspirators began to settle, replaced by a renewed confidence in their rebellion.
Right at that moment—
Crash!
The sound of shattering glass erupted from the side of the room.
"Who goes there?!"
Yashiro's nerves were already pulled taut. Ever since Shisui's "death," they hadn't dared to meet at the Naka Shrine, opting instead to gather here at the Police Force HQ to bolster morale. His first instinct was that the Village had finally made its move.
But a second later, he saw the intruder's silhouette and froze.
"Itachi? You—"
The unique geometric pattern in Itachi's eyes spun rapidly. Before Yashiro could finish his sentence, a terrifying ocular power dragged him into a world of illusion.
Dōjutsu: Tsukuyomi!
Shing!
A blade flashed. Blood sprayed across the room.
One officer collapsed to the floor instantly.
"Itachi has betrayed the clan! Quick, signal the—"
Before the shout could be finished, the space around them violently distorted.
In the next second, three massive shuriken flew out of the void, spinning outward like windmills of death.
Buzz—!
Accompanied by an ear-piercing screech, the Fūma Shuriken, warped by spatial manipulation, became impossible to track. They whipped up a storm of crimson slaughter.
In the blink of an eye, four or five bodies were bisected by the spinning blades, their severed torsos tumbling so chaotically it was impossible to tell which limbs belonged to whom.
Screams rose and fell in a gruesome chorus, only to be swallowed by the spatial distortion, dragging both the dying and the dead into another dimension.
In a flash—
The office was gone. They were now in a vast, eerie dimension of concrete blocks and void.
Before them stood only one man, wearing a mask.
Uchiha Yashiro snapped out of the Tsukuyomi. The mental anguish was excruciating, leaving him unable to focus his chakra or move his body. But when he lifted his head and saw the masked man, the blood drained from his face.
He was bewildered.
"You... Why... You aren't..."
His mind descended into chaos.
Once, this very man had incited him to seize power, promising to help them reclaim the authority that rightfully belonged to the Uchiha.
So why was he here now, slaughtering them with such cold efficiency?
"That is correct. I did say I would help the Uchiha reclaim their power. But unfortunately..." The masked "Madara" sneered, "You cannot represent the Uchiha."
He chuckled darkly. "Only I can represent the Uchiha!"
A blade slashed across Yashiro's throat. The single eye visible through the mask gleamed with icy, vindictive pleasure.
Outside, the massacre had truly begun.
Firelight, screams, and wailing filled the night air.
The entire Police Force building was consumed by chaos and death. Not a single soul could escape. Occasionally, one would manage to flee the building, only to be immediately surrounded and silenced by agents of Root waiting in the shadows.
"Lord Danzō's orders."
"Take them away. Seal the corpses. Do not let a single one escape the perimeter."
"Yes, sir!"
The Police Force had become a kill box.
Although they hadn't been completely wiped out yet, those trapped inside had no hope of survival.
In the river bordering the Uchiha district and the Police Force HQ.
A black-robed figure poked his head above the surface, took a breath, and quietly submerged again.
'As expected.'
The Uchiha Massacre... had begun.
Masahiko contemplated for a moment but decided not to interfere with the battle inside the Police Force. The building was filled with the Uchiha elite, and with both Itachi and Obito present, rashly intervening carried a high probability of an unpredictable accident.
He wasn't ready to expose himself just yet.
Masahiko utilized the underwater currents, moving toward the main Uchiha residential district.
He traveled upstream for a short distance through the waterways.
Suddenly, a ripple of chakra fluctuated in the water ahead.
'Colleagues? Or competition?'
Masahiko sensed the obscure vibrations and changes through the flow of the water.
'Four of them.'
Maintaining a special hand seal, Masahiko molded his chakra to expand a water barrier around him, shaping it into a hydrodynamic, fish-like streamline form.
Burst.
Chakra exploded from his feet.
The four figures ahead sensed the disturbance, but the three in the front had no time to react. They only saw a black blur shooting upstream against the current—
'So fast!'
The thought had barely formed in their minds when they felt a sharp, stinging pain in their chests.
Fortunately, the blow hadn't pierced their hearts.
But a split second later, a bizarre force began to split and scatter within their bodies. Like countless microscopic needles, the energy pierced their internal organs from the inside out, lodging itself deep within their tissue.
Panic set in. They frantically used Ninjutsu to churn the water, trying to disrupt the attacker.
It was futile.
Within the chaotic, turbulent currents, the enemy moved with supernatural grace, completely unaffected by the violent flow.
The sole remaining survivor attempted to weave signs for a signal flare. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a blade of light slashing toward his neck.
Terror seized him. His mind reeled—
'Something's wrong!'
'Genjutsu!'
He immediately disrupted his chakra flow to break the illusion. The vision of the blade vanished... only to reveal that a real blade was indeed there.
'This time, it's real!'
The blade sliced through his heart, draining every ounce of strength from his body.
Moments later, a rope was wound around their waists, linking the four corpses together like a grim string of pearls. The end of the rope was weighted down by a large rock at the riverbed.
The water churned, dyed red with blood, but with no streetlights nearby, the darkness of the night hid the crimson stain from any prying eyes on the surface.
The underwater assassination had ended in a single exchange.
Masahiko stabbed the other three bodies once more to ensure death, collected their ninja tool pouches, and then continued his swim upstream toward the Uchiha clan grounds.
Dozens of seconds later, the cawing of crows echoed from above, circling before flying off toward the distant outskirts.