Reborn In The World Of Naruto

The room was cloaked in a heavy silence, broken only by the occasional flicker of the lantern's flame. Its soft, wavering light cast long shadows across the wooden floor, creating illusions of specters—ghosts of ideals lost and trust shattered. Shisui sat motionless, his eyes fixed on Itachi. Those eyes, usually filled with warmth and mischief, now held the burden of painful revelations.

Itachi sat opposite him, back straight but visibly tense. His mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, memories colliding with the harsh reality Shisui had unveiled. The walls of his convictions, built over years of loyalty and sacrifice, felt like they were crumbling to dust. The village, the leaders he had revered—they were not the paragons of virtue he had once believed.

Itachi's voice, when it finally broke the silence, was barely a whisper.

"What... have I... done?" His knees gave way, and he sank to the floor, his hands trembling as they gripped his own arms. He stared upward, eyes hollow, reflecting the dim light. His whole world—the ideals he had sworn to protect, the leaders he had sworn loyalty to—had become a fractured, distorted reality.

"I always thought... the higher-ups... they were selfless. Protecting the village beyond all else, even their own families." Each word dripped with anguish, a lifetime of trust unraveling before him. "But now..."

Shisui knelt beside him, placing a steady hand on his friend's shoulder. The gesture was more than physical—it was an unspoken promise.

"Itachi," Shisui began, his voice a blend of sadness and steel,

"what's done is done. We can't change the past. But the future? We can shape it. That's how we atone."

Shisui watched his friend, his expression both sorrowful and resolute. "I know this is difficult to accept," he said, his voice soft but firm. "But we must confront the truth, Itachi. The leaders we trusted have blood on their hands. They manipulate lives from the shadows, deciding who lives and who dies, all for their vision of peace."

'I'm sorry, Grandpa. Even though you tried to convince me time and time again, I didn't listen. I only wish I could say sorry to you personally for all that I've done but I know that isn't possible anymore.' Shisui thought to himself with melancholy.

Itachi's hands clenched into fists, his nails biting into his palms. Yet, his face remained stoic.

"I won't let this betrayal stand," he vowed, the fire of resolve igniting within him. "We need to act. We need... a plan."

Shisui nodded, his expression hardening into a mask of determination. "We expose them. We reveal their sins to everyone."

"How?" Itachi's voice was steady as he asked.

"We need to..."

***

Back to Ryuuji,

In the secluded forest shrouded in mist, another struggle was unfolding. Ryuuji stood in a clearing, chest heaving, sweat dripping from his brow. His legs felt like lead, his muscles screaming in protest. The air was thick with the scent of earth and the distant murmur of rustling leaves. Across from him, Jima stood with his arms crossed, his eyes sharp and unwavering.

When suddenly...

 'By now, my plan should already be in motion. I'm a genius. Hitting 2 birds with 1 stone. Both Shisui and Itachi! I'm a genius.' Ryuuji inwardly gloated.

"Huhuhuhu! Hahahahaha! Hahahahaha!" Ryuuji held his stomach and started laughing like a madman.

WHACK

"Ouch! What was that for?" Ryuuji screamed in pain as he touched the back of his head.

"Stop laughing like an idiot! Focus on your training." Jima said.

"Enough," Ryuuji panted, hands on his knees. "We've... we've been at this for hours."

Jima's lips curled into something between a smile and a challenge. "You think this is enough? You still have the strength to talk. Three more hours."

Ryuuji's eyes widened in disbelief. "No! Please, I—"

The sharp slap to the back of his head interrupted him. "Focus."

Ryuuji groaned, rubbing the sore spot. "You're insane! This is torture."

Jima's expression softened, just a fraction. "Strength isn't just physical, Ryuuji. It's endurance. Spirit. You can survive a fight, but can you win one?" His eyes pierced through the boy, searching for the answer beyond words.

Ryuuji swallowed hard, the fire of defiance and resolve flickering in his gaze. He straightened, fists clenching. "I'll show you."

***

Later that night,

Exhausted, Ryuuji lay sprawled on his futon, every muscle in his body protesting even the slightest movement. The familiar translucent blue screen hovered before him, its glowing letters a cruel reminder of the danger that loomed.

[Quest: Survive The Massacre.

Description: In one year, the Low-level Kage-stage powerhouse Uchiha Itachi will single-handedly destroy the entire Uchiha clan, sparing only his kid brother, Uchiha Sasuke.

Objective: Survive.

Reward: ???

Penalty: Death]

His eyes flicked over the words, each syllable a weight on his chest. "Why hasn't anything changed?" he muttered, frustration thick in his voice. "No matter what I do... no matter how strong I get... no matter the plans I concoct."

He closed his eyes, pressing his palms to his temples. "I've grown. Elite-level Chunin. A year in here—only a month outside. Average Special Jonin wouldn't dare cross me with all the thins I've learned by training . But this..." His eyes reopened, staring at the screen. "It's not enough."

He sighed, the weight of uncertainty pressing down on him. "I need to sleep. I need... more time."

While Ryuuji was sleeping in the hut,

Jima was standing outside, gazing at the stars with a calm look, his robes flapping in the wind. After a while, he said with a smile on his face.

"Mother, Father, Kagami, Kaede, and Ryuuto, just a while longer."

***

Back at the Uchiha Compound,

In the dimly lit study, Itachi knelt before his father, Fugaku. The room was heavy with unspoken tension, each second stretching into an eternity. Itachi's head was bowed, his hands clenched into tight fists at his sides. He had confessed everything—his betrayals, the critical information he had leaked to the elders. Every word had felt like a dagger, each admission a wound.

Fugaku stood in silence, his expression unreadable. When he finally spoke, his voice was low but firm.

"Raise your head."

Itachi obeyed, meeting his father's gaze.

SLAP

The slap came without warning, the sharp crack echoing through the room. But before the sting had even registered, Fugaku pulled him into an embrace.

"Don't ever do something like this again," Fugaku whispered, his voice thick with unspoken emotion.

Itachi stood frozen for a moment, the warmth of the embrace foreign and yet... familiar. Slowly, his arms lifted, wrapping around his father.

"I won't," he murmured, the vow carrying a weight it hadn't before.

In that moment, something shifted. The road ahead was uncertain, fraught with shadows and peril. But in the fragile light of that embrace, a new resolve was forged—a bond stronger than betrayal, stronger than fear.

***