Chapter 8 – This Is... the Truth?
By the time he returned home, the lighthearted atmosphere of the banquet had completely faded.
The weight of reality settled back onto his shoulders, and the somber expression that always seemed to cling to Uchiha Itachi reappeared.
His mind kept replaying the complicated, hesitant looks that Sōsuke-senpai and Kakashi-senpai had exchanged during their earlier conversation.
What exactly had happened to Kakashi-senpai in the past?
And this "mouthpiece" Sōsuke mentioned—whose voice was it, really?
Itachi suddenly realized that this village he had thought he knew so well... might be far more unfamiliar and unsettling than he had ever imagined.
But neither his father nor his mother, not even Shisui, had ever spoken to him about it.
The problems laid out before him always seemed to be nothing more than the surface layer—clan versus village, duty versus loyalty.
The realization made him both angry and confused.
So this was the truth—
Even though he had thought of himself as a "grown man," in the eyes of the real adults, he was still just a child.
The twelve-year-old clenched his fists silently.
Just as he stood there in the entryway, lost in thought, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed from the upstairs hallway.
"Onii-chan!"
He barely had time to look up before Sasuke's little head peeked out from the top of the stairs.
The boy's face lit up with joy, and in the next moment, he came thundering down the steps, crashing straight into Itachi's arms.
For a brief moment, Itachi froze—
then, almost by instinct, his heavy expression melted into his usual gentle smile.
"Why are you still awake, Sasuke?"
Little Sasuke pouted, burrowing into his brother's chest before mumbling in a muffled voice:
"Mom and Dad said you'd be home today… but you didn't come back for dinner…"
"You were waiting for me, then?"
Itachi smiled softly.
Almost unconsciously, he imitated Sōsuke-senpai's gesture and ruffled Sasuke's hair.
"Sorry for making you worry."
Sasuke puffed his cheeks, clearly unimpressed with this "little kid" treatment.
"I wasn't worried! Onii-chan's super strong—no mission could stop you… But! You promised we'd train together when you came back!"
"Sorry, sorry…"
Itachi kept apologizing, but inside, a quiet warmth spread through his chest.
Yes—
Even if it was just for Sasuke's peaceful life, he had to grow stronger.
The brothers lingered in the hallway for a bit before the sound drew Uchiha Mikoto from her room.
When she saw Itachi standing there, a soft smile appeared on her face.
"You're home."
"Have you eaten? There are still dishes in the kitchen—should I heat them up for you?"
"I already had dinner with some friends, Mother."
Compared to the gentleness he showed Sasuke, Itachi's expression became more restrained when speaking to Mikoto.
"Shisui wasn't with you this time?"
In Mikoto's memory, Shisui had always been Itachi's only real friend.
"It was… some other senpai."
Perhaps sensing her unspoken meaning, Itachi felt a touch of awkwardness creep into his expression.
Seeing his strange look, Mikoto suddenly laughed softly, as if relieved.
"So, you've made some new friends? That's good. Make sure to get along with them."
"Yes."
Itachi had never given his mother cause for worry—his talent and intellect had always been impeccable.
Only his habit of shutting himself away in his own thoughts, of keeping others at a distance, made her uneasy.
Especially now, with the pressure on him growing heavier by the day, she feared that one day he might walk into a dead end from which there was no return.
But tonight…
it seemed her son was taking small steps toward growth.
The thought eased her heart—
though her expression hardened again when she turned her gaze to the still-awake Sasuke.
"Sasuke, if you're late for school tomorrow, I'm not waking you up."
"Eh—!?"
Hearing Sasuke's exaggerated groan behind him, Itachi couldn't help but smile faintly.
-
This Is… the Truth?
But the moment he stepped into the living room and saw his father seated solemnly at the low table, Itachi's expression gradually sobered, turning serious.
Uchiha Fugaku held a teacup in his hand, turning his head to look at his son.
"Orochimaru's incident—has it been resolved?"
"What was the outcome?"
"Yes, Father."
Itachi knelt on the tatami across from him, voice calm and measured.
"Based on the evidence we've gathered, even if Lord Third suppresses the matter for now, the moment Orochimaru resurfaces elsewhere, he will likely be branded a rogue ninja."
"Judging from the traces left behind, he is probably the only one capable of reaching such depth in Wood Release research."
"Wood Release…"
Fugaku repeated the word softly, his gaze momentarily distant, as if recalling the ancient texts he had once read.
The power of the true God of Shinobi.
Even their most powerful Uchiha ancestor could not stand against it.
What kind of sight must that have been…?
For a fleeting moment, Fugaku wondered—
Could Orochimaru's defection, in some twisted way, be seen as an opportunity?
A potential ally for their clan, perhaps?
But the thought vanished as quickly as it came.
The Uchiha already had enough trouble on their hands.
He shifted his gaze back to his son, a searching look in his eyes.
"Is there something else you wanted to ask?"
Itachi hesitated, then finally spoke in a low voice.
"Father, I wish to know more about Hatake Kakashi-senpai—or rather, information related to him."
"The situation our clan faces now… has anything similar ever happened to others in the village?"
"And the one pulling the strings from the shadows… who is it really?"
Fugaku's brows lifted slightly at the question.
His eyes lingered on his son for a long moment before he exhaled quietly, as though setting down a heavy burden.
"How did you come to know of this?"
"..."
Itachi said nothing—only met his father's gaze in silence.
After a long pause, Fugaku waved a hand.
"Go to the clan archives yourself. It happened nearly twenty years ago… and it concerned Kakashi's father, Hatake Sakumo."
"Thank you, Father."
Fugaku did not reply.
He stood and left the room, though before closing the door, his eyes rested briefly on Itachi's back.
For a child as complex yet pure-hearted as this one… is it still too early for him to bear these truths?
Fugaku could not decide.
---
Itachi had always been a man of action.
And as both the clan head's son and its unparalleled prodigy, he enjoyed almost unlimited access within the Uchiha compound.
Without much scrutiny, he entered the clan's archive just as he had countless times before.
But this time was different.
Instead of seeking out scrolls of jutsu or clan techniques, he went straight to the historical records section.
Cross-referencing Hatake Sakumo's date of death and personal history, Itachi quickly located a series of documents.
He carried them to a small table and began to read in silence.
And he did not stop reading.
Not until dawn's first light seeped through the windows did Itachi finally lift his head, his eyes bloodshot.
In the span of a single night, it felt as though his entire worldview had been overturned.
The clan's records were far less censored than the official histories in the Hokage Tower.
There were no evasions, no gentle omissions.
The documents detailed everything—from Hatake Sakumo's countless merits during the Second Shinobi War, to the meteoric rise of his fame, to how he came to be regarded as the single best candidate for Fourth Hokage, even surpassing the young Sannin in renown.
Then came that fateful mission failure.
And the tide turned.
The documents named everyone:
Sarutobi Hiruzen, Shimura Danzō, the Uchiha clan, the Hyūga clan, the Ino-Shika-Chō, the Fire Daimyō—
even enemy village spies who fanned the flames of public opinion.
In Itachi's eyes, the village—once a place of harmony save for the occasional conflict with the Uchiha—was stripped bare of its façade.
Everything lay before him, stark and merciless.
The records were clear:
At first, no faction had truly sought Sakumo's destruction.
They merely wished to exclude him from the list of Hokage candidates.
After all, he was still one of Konoha's greatest pillars.
But in the end, Hatake Sakumo—whose gentle and kind nature practically bled through the words on the page—
chose to resolve the chaos in the most decisive, tragic way possible.
He took his own life.
When Itachi reached the final line, his fingers pressed against the slightly uneven handwriting, as if he could still feel the recorder's shock through the ink.
His fingertips trembled.
"This is…"
"…the truth?"
Itachi's pupils dilated, as though his vision itself had frozen.
If something this cruel, this disastrous, had already happened before—
and yet Konoha still treated the Uchiha clan in the same way even now—
Then what outcome were they seeking this time?