Through These Eyes

The night air crackled with chakra residue, electric and dangerous. Blood spattered across moonlit grass in a grotesque constellation—most of it not her own. Itami Uchiha staggered between ancient trees, one hand pressed against the ragged hole in her side where a poisoned kunai had found its mark. Her ANBU mask lay shattered somewhere in the clearing behind her, abandoned like the bodies of the ROOT operatives who had ambushed her.

They had known she was coming. Someone had betrayed her.

Pain lanced through her chest, a nova of agony that stole her breath and sent her crashing against the rough bark of a towering oak. The mission had been classified beyond S-rank—eliminate a rogue faction threatening to expose Konoha's darkest secrets. But the hunters had become the hunted, and now Itami fled through the forests that had once been her home, leaving crimson footprints in her wake.

She knew she was dying. The poison was a specialized concoction, designed specifically for Uchiha blood. Her vision blurred, the world swimming in and out of focus as her legendary Sharingan flickered erratically. Ten minutes, perhaps fifteen, before her systems shut down completely. Not enough time to reach any of her safe houses. Not enough time to warn Jiraiya about what she'd discovered.

Not enough time to see Sasuke one last time.

The thought of her brother sent fresh pain spiraling through her, sharper than any physical wound. Seven years since the night she'd slaughtered their clan under orders, seven years of carrying the weight of being branded a monster so that Konoha might avoid civil war. Seven years of watching from the shadows as Sasuke grew, fueled by hatred for the sister who had taken everything from him.

A bitter laugh escaped her bloodied lips. How fitting that she would die alone in these woods, having accomplished nothing.

The trees ahead suddenly parted into a small clearing. Itami stumbled forward, her legs finally giving out. She collapsed onto the soft grass, her face turned toward the star-scattered sky. The poison had reached her lungs now, each breath a battle. The moonlight seemed impossibly bright, almost blinding, as her Sharingan activated one final time, memorizing the patterns of stars above.

Then something unexpected happened. A flash of orange at the edge of her vision. A voice, achingly familiar yet not her brother's. Footsteps crashing through the underbrush with all the subtlety of a rampaging boar.

"Hey! Are you okay?!"

Naruto Uzumaki. Of all the people to find her, it had to be the Nine-Tails jinchūriki, the boy she had been secretly protecting for years. The universe had a twisted sense of humor.

Naruto skidded to a halt beside her, his blue eyes widening in shock as recognition dawned. Even at fourteen, he was unmistakable—spiky blonde hair, whisker marks on his cheeks, that hideous orange jumpsuit. But there was something else, something in his eyes that reminded her painfully of the Fourth Hokage.

"You're—you're Itachi Uchiha!" he gasped, instinctively stepping back. "But you're—you look different than the pictures..."

"Itami," she corrected, blood bubbling at the corners of her mouth. "The female twin. Less... famous than my brother." The lie came easily. There had never been twins—only a fabrication created by the Third Hokage to explain certain covert operations that the real Itachi needed to disavow.

Confusion crossed Naruto's face, but to his credit, he didn't run. Instead, he dropped to his knees beside her. "You're hurt real bad. I should get help—"

Itami's hand shot out with surprising strength, grasping his wrist. "No time," she hissed. "Listen to me, Naruto Uzumaki. I've been watching you."

"Watching me? Why would an S-rank criminal—"

"Because I made a promise," she interrupted, her voice growing weaker. "To your father."

The words hit Naruto like a physical blow. He froze, his entire body tensing. "My... father? You knew who my father was?"

A violent cough wracked Itami's body, more blood spattering her already crimson ANBU armor. "Not enough time for that story," she gasped. "But I can give you something. Something that might keep you alive when they come for you."

"When who comes for me?"

"Akatsuki. Dawn breaks red." Her vision was darkening at the edges now, the poison working faster than she'd anticipated. With trembling fingers, she reached into her weapons pouch and withdrew a sealed scroll, pressing it into Naruto's hands. "Take this. Read it when you're alone. Trust no one in Konoha except perhaps Kakashi and Jiraiya."

Naruto clutched the scroll, his expression a mixture of fear and fascination. "But you're a criminal! You killed your entire clan! Why would you help me?"

A sad smile crossed Itami's blood-flecked lips. "Not everything is as it appears, Naruto Uzumaki. Some monsters are created by the village they serve."

Another spasm of pain tore through her, and she knew her time had dwindled to minutes, perhaps seconds. A wild, desperate idea formed in her mind—insane, unthinkable, yet somehow perfect in its symmetry. Her eyes. Her legacy. Her final act of defiance against Danzo, who had always coveted the Sharingan.

"Naruto," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I can give you power. Protection. But you must decide quickly."

"What are you talking about?" Confusion clouded his features.

Itami forced herself upright, her body screaming in protest. "My Sharingan. One of them. Take it."

Shock rendered Naruto speechless, his mouth hanging open. "That's—that's crazy! I can't take your eye! I'm not even an Uchiha!"

"Neither was Kakashi," she countered, her breathing becoming more labored. "You've seen what he can do with a single Sharingan. Imagine what you could accomplish. The enemies coming for you—they won't expect it. It could save your life."

"But I don't know how to—"

"I do." Itami's hands formed a series of rapid signs, her fingers leaving bloody prints on her armor. "A medical jutsu. Specialized. I can transfer it, but you must decide now. I'm almost out of chakra."

The forest around them seemed to hold its breath. In the distance, an owl called plaintively to the moon. Naruto's face contorted with indecision, fear battling against curiosity, caution against opportunity.

"Why me?" he finally asked, his voice small. "Why not save it for Sasuke?"

A hint of the old Itami flashed in her eyes—the prodigy, the ANBU captain, the strategic genius. "Because my brother walks a path of vengeance. You walk a path of protection. Because you have something he lacks—compassion without weakness." Her bloody hand reached up, touching his cheek with surprising gentleness. "And because I have seen your future, Naruto Uzumaki. With these eyes that never lie."

Something in her words reached him. Naruto squared his shoulders, determination replacing uncertainty. "Will it hurt?"

A laugh, surprising in its warmth, escaped her. "Terribly. But you're stronger than the pain."

"Okay," he said, swallowing hard. "Do it."

Without hesitation, Itami's hands flashed through a complex sequence of signs, her chakra flaring brilliantly in the darkness. "Lie down," she commanded. "Next to me. This jutsu was created for battlefield transplants. Crude but effective."

Naruto obeyed, stretching out on the blood-stained grass beside her. The moonlight caught in his eyes—so blue, so earnest, so like Minato's that it made her heart ache.

"Close your eyes," she instructed, her hands beginning to glow with the pale blue light of medical chakra. "And whatever happens, don't move."

As Naruto's eyelids fluttered shut, Itami placed her right hand over his right eye and her left over her own. The forest disappeared in a whirlwind of light and sensation as she activated the jutsu—a forbidden technique developed by the Uchiha clan during the warring states period, when Sharingan theft had become common.

Pain exploded behind her eyelids, white-hot and all-consuming. Beside her, Naruto screamed, his back arching off the ground as the jutsu took effect. Blood streamed from beneath Itami's palm, running down both their faces in rivulets of crimson. The chakra drain was immense, pulling from her already depleted reserves.

The jutsu required precision and control, qualities rapidly abandoning her poisoned body. Itami forced herself to focus, channeling the last of her life force into the transfer. She could feel her right eye detaching, the optic nerve severing and reconnecting to Naruto's chakra network. His body fought the intrusion, foxfire chakra flaring in instinctive defense.

"Accept it," she hissed through clenched teeth. "Don't fight the connection."

Whether he heard her or not, something changed. The resistance lessened, and Itami felt her Sharingan—with all its abilities, all its memories, all its curse—flow into Naruto's body. The jutsu reached completion with a final surge of chakra that left her gasping, hollow, empty.

Naruto's scream cut off abruptly as unconsciousness claimed him. Itami collapsed beside him, her remaining eye fixed on his face. Blood covered them both, mingling together on the forest floor. But the transplant had worked. She could see the chakra pathways adapting, connecting, integrating the foreign eye into his system.

With the last of her strength, Itami brushed a strand of blonde hair from Naruto's forehead. "Use it better than we did," she whispered. "See through the lies."

The poison reached her heart, stuttering its rhythm. As darkness closed in, Itami found herself thinking of Sasuke—not as the avenger he had become, but as the smiling child who had once chased her through the Uchiha compound, begging for piggyback rides. She hoped he would understand, someday. She hoped he would forgive.

Her last thought was of Shisui, of the cliff edge where he had given her his eye before plunging into the Naka River. How strange that she should end her journey by mimicking his sacrifice.

I'm coming, Shisui. Mother. Father. Everyone.

The moon vanished behind a cloud, and Itami Uchiha's remaining eye closed for the final time.

Naruto dreamed of fire.

Villages burning. Children screaming. A young boy with familiar dark eyes staring in horror as blood-soaked bodies littered the streets of a compound bearing the fan-shaped symbol of the Uchiha clan.

"Foolish little brother," a voice whispered in the flames. "If you wish to kill me, hate me, detest me, and survive in an unsightly way."

The scene shifted, dissolving into a sunlit training ground where a teenage boy with long dark hair tied back in a ponytail stood beside a curly-haired Uchiha with a gentle smile.

"The village comes first, Itami," the curly-haired boy said. "Even before clan. Even before family."

"There must be another way, Shisui," the teenager—Itami—replied. "A middle path."

Another shift. Darkness. A meeting room, faces hidden in shadow.

"The Uchiha plan a coup," an old man with a bandaged eye said, his voice like gravel. "They must be eliminated. All of them."

"Even the children?" Itami asked, her voice hollow.

"Especially the children," the old man replied. "Leave no seeds that might grow into vengeance."

The scene changed again. Itami kneeling before the Third Hokage, her ANBU mask removed, tears streaming down her face.

"I'll do it," she said. "But Sasuke lives. That is my condition. You will protect him, or I will burn this village to the ground myself."

The Hokage's face was lined with grief. "I agree to your terms. But you must disappear afterward. Become the villain. Take the burden of hatred upon yourself."

Blood. So much blood. Swords flashing in moonlight. The death screams of her parents, her cousins, her friends. And through it all, Itami's Sharingan recorded every detail, every horror, every sin committed in the name of peace.

The dreams fractured, splinters of memories not his own embedding themselves in Naruto's unconscious. Akatsuki. Nine cloaked figures hunting tailed beasts. A masked man claiming to be Madara Uchiha. Danzo stealing Sharingan eyes from corpses. Orochimaru's experiments. Jiraiya's spy network. Secrets upon secrets upon secrets.

And through it all, glimpses of himself—a small blonde boy swinging alone on a playground, shunned by parents who hustled their children away. Naruto sitting atop the Fourth Hokage's stone head, watching the sunset. Naruto fighting Zabuza on the bridge in the Land of Waves. Naruto facing Gaara during the Sand invasion.

Itami had been watching him. For years. Protecting him from the shadows.

Why?

The question echoed through the dreamscape, unanswered.

Pain lanced through Naruto's right eye, a burning agony that tore him from the grip of these foreign memories. He screamed, the sound reverberating inside his skull but never reaching his lips. The pain intensified, becoming a supernova behind his eyelid.

Too much, he thought desperately. Make it stop!

As if responding to his plea, the pain receded, replaced by a strange tingling sensation. Naruto felt something new integrating with his chakra network—foreign yet increasingly familiar. Power, but at a cost. Vision, but with terrible knowledge attached.

The dreams faded, pulling away like a receding tide, leaving him stranded on the shores of consciousness.

Naruto awoke to the sound of birds.

Morning light filtered through the forest canopy, dappling the clearing with gold. For a moment, he lay perfectly still, trying to understand why he was outside, why his body ached as though he'd trained for days without rest, why his right eye throbbed with a dull, persistent pain.

Then memory returned in a rush, and he bolted upright with a gasp.

"Itami!"

The Uchiha woman lay beside him, motionless. In death, she looked younger than she had the night before, the lines of strain erased from her face. Blood had dried in dark rivulets down her cheek from beneath her closed eyelids. Her remaining eye was half-open, revealing the normal dark iris of an Uchiha at rest.

"No," Naruto whispered, reaching out a trembling hand to touch her shoulder. She was cold, her body already stiffening. "No, no, no..."

He scrambled away from the corpse, his back hitting a tree trunk. His hand flew to his right eye, which was crusted with dried blood. The skin around it felt tender, swollen. When he tried to open it, pain shot through his skull like a lightning bolt.

"This can't be happening," he muttered, his mind racing. "This can't be real."

But the scroll clutched in his left hand proved otherwise. Sometime during the night, he had maintained his grip on Itami's final gift. The paper felt warm against his palm, humming faintly with chakra.

Naruto staggered to his feet, his balance off-kilter from keeping his right eye closed. He needed to get back to the village. He needed to tell someone—Kakashi-sensei, Granny Tsunade, someone—about what had happened.

Trust no one in Konoha except perhaps Kakashi and Jiraiya.

Itami's warning echoed in his mind, stopping him cold. If what he'd seen in those dreams was true—if even half of it was true—then Konoha harbored traitors at the highest levels. People who had ordered the Uchiha massacre. People who might want the Sharingan for themselves.

People who would cut the eye from his head without hesitation.

Panic clawed at Naruto's throat. What had he done? What had he agreed to? In his typical impulsive fashion, he'd accepted a dying S-rank criminal's offer without considering the consequences. Now he stood in the forest with the stolen eye of an Uchiha, blood on his hands, and no idea what to do next.

Think, he commanded himself, trying to channel Sakura's methodical approach to problems. What would she do?

First, he needed to hide the evidence. Looking around wildly, Naruto spotted his discarded kunai pouch near the base of a tree where he'd been practicing the night before. Inside was a roll of bandages, meant for emergency field dressings.

Moving quickly, he wrapped the bandages around his head, covering his right eye completely. It would draw attention, but less than a blood-crusted eye socket. He could claim a training accident.

Next, Itami's body. He couldn't leave her here to be found, her remaining eye harvested by whoever came looking. The thought made his stomach churn. She deserved better, regardless of her crimes.

Forcing himself to approach the corpse, Naruto formed the hand sign for his signature jutsu. "Shadow Clone Technique!"

Five copies of himself appeared in puffs of smoke, each wearing identical eye bandages. They needed no instruction, immediately moving to gather fallen branches and leaves to build a pyre. Naruto himself knelt beside Itami, gently closing her remaining eye.

"I don't know why you chose me," he said softly. "I don't know if I can live up to whatever you saw in me. But I'll try."

One of his clones approached, handing him a kunai. Naruto took it, hesitating only briefly before cutting a lock of Itami's long black hair. He tucked it into his pocket—a remembrance, a reminder of the weight he now carried.

Together, Naruto and his clones placed Itami's body atop the hastily constructed pyre. One clone performed a basic fire jutsu—nothing like the grand fireballs the Uchiha were famous for, but enough to catch the dry wood. Flames leapt up around Itami's body, consuming her ANBU armor, her pale skin, her long dark hair so like her brother's.

Naruto stood watch until there was nothing left but ashes, scattering them across the clearing so no hunter would find enough to identify. His clones dispelled one by one, their chakra returning to him in bursts that made his head pound and his covered eye throb.

The scroll remained clutched in his hand, its secrets still locked away. He would read it later, somewhere safe. For now, he needed to return to the village without arousing suspicion.

As Naruto turned to leave the clearing, a sharp pain lanced through his right eye, dropping him to his knees with a cry. The bandage grew wet with fresh blood as something shifted beneath his eyelid, chakra pathways realigning themselves to accommodate their new occupant.

When the pain subsided, Naruto found he could open the eye slightly. The world viewed through it seemed sharper somehow, colors more vibrant, details more defined. He quickly closed it again, fearing what might happen if anyone saw the crimson iris and black tomoe of an active Sharingan.

The walk back to Konoha took longer than it should have. Naruto moved cautiously, hyperaware of every sound in the forest, jumping at shadows. By the time the village gates came into view, the sun had risen fully, bathing the Hokage Monument in golden light.

Izumo and Kotetsu, the eternal gate guards, straightened as he approached.

"Naruto?" Izumo called, eyeing the bandage with concern. "What happened to you?"

"Training accident," Naruto replied, forcing a sheepish grin that didn't reach his eyes. "You know me—always pushing too hard!"

Kotetsu shook his head. "You should have Sakura look at that. Head wounds are serious business."

"Yeah, yeah, I will." Naruto waved off their concern, passing through the gates with his heart hammering against his ribs. He'd made it inside, but the real challenge was just beginning.

As he walked through the awakening village, Naruto was acutely aware of the scroll in his pocket, the bandage over his eye, and the weight of secrets pressing down on his shoulders. For the first time in his life, he found himself avoiding the busy main streets, sticking to back alleys and rooftops.

What would his friends say if they knew? What would Sasuke say? The thought of his teammate—Itami's brother, the last loyal Uchiha—made Naruto's stomach twist with guilt. He had taken something that rightfully belonged to Sasuke. But Itami had chosen him, for reasons he still didn't fully understand.

By the time he reached his apartment, Naruto was exhausted, his chakra reserves depleted from the transplant and the strain of maintaining a normal façade. He fumbled with his keys, nearly dropping them twice before managing to unlock his door.

Inside, he collapsed onto his unmade bed, the events of the night catching up to him in a rush of delayed shock. He had Itami Uchiha's eye. He had burned her body. He was harboring the secrets of an S-rank criminal, trusting the word of a woman who had slaughtered her entire clan.

Had he made a terrible mistake?

As if in answer, the pain in his right eye subsided suddenly, replaced by a warm, pulsing sensation. The feeling spread through his chakra network, settling into a rhythm that somehow felt right, as though the eye had always been meant for him.

Naruto carefully unwound the bandage, wincing as it stuck to dried blood. He needed to clean the wound, to see what he had done to himself. Rising unsteadily, he made his way to the small bathroom mirror.

The face that stared back at him was still his own—whisker marks, spiky blonde hair, tanned skin. But his right eye was swollen, the lid puffy and discolored. Gingerly, he opened it.

A gasp escaped his lips. Where his blue eye should have been, a black pupil surrounded by crimson iris stared back at him. One, two, three tomoe swirled lazily around the center, spinning in a hypnotic pattern before settling into stillness.

The Sharingan. Itami's final gift. Her legacy.

As Naruto stared at his reflection, the eye suddenly shifted, the tomoe spinning rapidly as chakra surged through his system. Images flashed before him—a masked figure standing atop the Hokage Monument, red clouds on black cloaks approaching the village, Sasuke consumed by cursed flame, and himself, older, wrapped in golden chakra with both eyes blazing red.

The vision ended as abruptly as it had begun, leaving Naruto gasping for breath, his hands white-knuckled on the edge of the sink. Was this the power of the Sharingan? Not just copying techniques, but seeing possible futures?

A knock at his apartment door startled him from his thoughts. Naruto quickly rewrapped the bandage, making sure no trace of red was visible.

"Naruto? Are you in there?" Sakura's voice called. "Kakashi-sensei sent me to find you. We have a mission briefing in an hour."

"C-coming!" he called back, his voice cracking. "Just a minute!"

Naruto glanced around frantically, making sure no evidence of the night's events remained visible. The scroll—he needed to hide it. Diving for his bed, he shoved the sealed document beneath his mattress just as Sakura's impatient knocking resumed.

"What's taking so long? If you're still in bed, I swear I'll break this door down!"

Taking a deep breath, Naruto plastered a smile on his face and opened the door. "Morning, Sakura-chan! Sorry, I was just, uh—"

Sakura's annoyance instantly transformed into concern as she took in his appearance. "Naruto! What happened to your eye?"

"Training accident," he repeated the lie, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. "Hit myself with a ricocheting kunai. Pretty stupid, huh?"

She frowned, medical training kicking in. "Let me see it. If it's deep, you might need stitches."

Panic flared in Naruto's chest. "No! I mean—it's fine, really. The bleeding stopped. I just need to keep it covered for a day or two."

Sakura's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Since when do you refuse medical treatment? Usually you're begging for attention."

"I just don't want to be a bother," he said, avoiding her gaze. "And we have a mission, right? I don't want to hold everyone up."

Something in his tone must have convinced her, because Sakura's expression softened slightly. "Well, if you're sure... But if it gets worse, promise you'll let me check it?"

"Promise," Naruto agreed, relief washing over him. "So what's the mission? Something exciting?"

As Sakura explained their upcoming assignment—a simple escort mission to a nearby town—Naruto found his attention split between her words and the constant awareness of the foreign eye beneath his bandage. It pulsed with each heartbeat, a reminder of everything that had changed in a single night.

He was no longer just Naruto Uzumaki, the Nine-Tails jinchūriki, the dead-last ninja determined to become Hokage. Now he carried a piece of the Uchiha legacy, a power coveted by enemies within and without the village, a gift from a dying woman with secrets that could topple Konoha itself.

And somewhere in the village, an old man with a bandaged eye might already be searching for Itami's missing Sharingan.

The thought sent a chill down Naruto's spine, even as he nodded and smiled at Sakura's description of their mission parameters. He would need to be careful. He would need to learn control. He would need to understand why Itami had chosen him, of all people, to carry her legacy.

But first, he needed to read that scroll.

As he followed Sakura out into the morning sunlight, Naruto made a silent vow to the woman whose ashes now fertilized the forest floor. He would not waste her sacrifice. He would use this power to protect, not to destroy. He would find the truth behind the Uchiha massacre, behind his own orphaned status, behind the web of lies that seemed to entangle the village he loved.

And perhaps, someday, he would understand what Itami had meant when she said she had seen his future with eyes that never lie.

Behind his bandage, the Sharingan pulsed once, as if in agreement.

The sun climbed higher over Konoha, casting no shadows on the secrets now buried in Naruto's right eye—secrets that would change everything. The Will of Fire had found an unexpected heir, and the legacy of the Uchiha clan had found an unlikely guardian.

The game had changed. The pieces had shifted. And Naruto Uzumaki stood at the center of it all, blissfully unaware of the storm he now carried within.

Naruto bolted upright in bed, a scream strangled in his throat.

Phantom flames licked at the edges of his vision—an Uchiha compound burning, bodies falling, a sword slicing through flesh. His hand flew to his bandaged eye, fingers trembling as they traced the rough fabric. Pain throbbed behind the socket in electric pulses, each one sending another fragment of memory crashing through his mind.

For a terrifying moment, he couldn't remember where he was.

"Just a dream," he gasped, but the words rang hollow in his empty apartment.

Sunlight streamed through his window, dust motes dancing in golden shafts that announced mid-morning had already arrived. The simple escort mission with Team 7 had been completed yesterday—a blur of forced smiles and deflected questions about his "training accident." He'd managed to keep the bandage in place, even when Kakashi-sensei's visible eye had lingered too long, too knowingly.

Three days since that night in the forest. Three days of carrying Itami Uchiha's eye. Three days of headaches, chakra fluctuations, and nightmares that weren't his own.

Naruto swung his legs over the side of the bed, wincing as his bare feet hit the cold floor. The mission had depleted his already strained chakra reserves. Even the Nine-Tails seemed subdued, its usual angry presence curled tight and watchful within him, as though the fox was assessing this new development with wary interest.

"I need to read that scroll," Naruto muttered, reaching beneath his mattress. His fingers closed around the sealed document Itami had pressed into his hands with her dying breath.

The scroll hummed with faint chakra, warm against his palm. Blood seals—he recognized them from Jiraiya's teachings. They would open only for him, destroying the contents if anyone else attempted to break the seal. Clever. Paranoid. Very Uchiha.

Naruto's thumb hovered over the seal. Did he really want to know what was inside? What secrets was he about to uncover? Once read, he could never go back to ignorance.

A sharp knock at his door sent the scroll flying from his hands. He shoved it back under the mattress in panic, heart hammering against his ribs.

"Naruto! Open up!"

Sakura's voice. Naruto exhaled sharply.

"Coming!" he called, grabbing a clean(ish) shirt from the floor and pulling it over his head. He checked that his bandage was secure before opening the door.

Sakura stood with her arms crossed, pink hair framing a face caught between concern and annoyance. "You missed this morning's training session."

"I overslept," Naruto said, offering a sheepish grin that felt strange on his face. When had lying become so easy? "Sorry, Sakura-chan."

Her eyes narrowed, medical scrutiny sharpening her gaze. "You look terrible. Are you sick?"

"Just tired from the mission."

"Let me check your eye," she said, reaching for his bandage. "It should have started healing by now."

Naruto jerked back, bumping against the doorframe. "No! I mean—it's fine. Really."

Hurt flashed across Sakura's face. "Since when don't you trust me?"

The question hit like a kunai between the ribs. Of course he trusted Sakura. She was his teammate, his friend, the girl he'd had a crush on since Academy days. But this was different. This was bigger than them.

"It's not that," he said softly. "I just... I don't want you to worry."

Before she could argue, a distraction appeared in the form of Kakashi, materializing on the railing outside Naruto's apartment with a casual ease that belied his rank.

"Yo," he said, visible eye crinkling with his hidden smile. "I thought I might find you two here."

Naruto had never been so glad to see his chronically late sensei. "Kakashi-sensei! What's up?"

The jonin's eye flicked to Naruto's bandage, then away so quickly that Naruto almost missed it. Almost. "Lady Tsunade has requested your presence, Naruto. Alone."

Ice formed in Naruto's stomach. Did she know? Had someone found Itami's ashes? Had Danzo—

"Is something wrong?" Sakura asked, voicing Naruto's fears.

Kakashi shrugged. "The Hokage doesn't share her reasons with me. But I wouldn't keep her waiting if I were you, Naruto."

"Right," Naruto nodded, forcing steadiness into his voice. "Let me just grab my jacket."

He ducked back inside, heart racing. This was it. They'd discovered what he'd done. He'd be arrested, interrogated, the eye cut from his head—

Calm down, a voice whispered in his mind. It sounded disturbingly like Itami. Think strategically. Assess before acting.

Naruto took a deep breath, forcing the panic down. The scroll—he couldn't leave it here. If they arrested him, his apartment would be searched. He grabbed it from under the mattress and stuffed it into his weapons pouch, tucking it beneath his kunai where it wouldn't be immediately visible.

When he emerged, Sakura was gone, and Kakashi stood alone, orange book nowhere in sight—a bad sign. His teacher's posture was too casual, too deliberate.

"Ready?" Kakashi asked.

Naruto nodded, not trusting his voice. They set off across the rooftops of Konoha, the fastest route to the Hokage Tower. The village sprawled below them, civilians going about their morning routines, oblivious to the storm brewing within their walls. How many other secrets did Konoha harbor? How many lies had he been told?

As they traveled, Naruto studied Kakashi from the corner of his eye. The Copy Ninja had a Sharingan of his own—gifted by a dying Uchiha friend, according to village legend. Did he suspect what Naruto had done? Was he leading him into a trap?

No. Kakashi was many things, but he would never betray a student. Naruto clung to that belief like a lifeline.

They landed on the balcony outside the Hokage's office with barely a sound. Kakashi gave a short nod. "She's expecting you."

Naruto swallowed hard and pushed open the door.

Tsunade sat behind her desk, honey-colored eyes sharp despite the sake bottle visible behind a stack of papers. "Close the door," she commanded.

Naruto obeyed, fighting the urge to bolt. The Hokage gestured to the chair opposite her desk. "Sit."

He perched on the edge of the seat, ready to spring up if needed. His right eye throbbed painfully beneath its bandage, as if responding to his heightened emotions.

Tsunade studied him for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Finally, she spoke. "How's your eye, brat?"

"Fine," Naruto replied automatically. "Just a training accident."

"Is that so?" Tsunade raised an eyebrow. "Then you won't mind if I examine it. I am a medical ninja, after all."

Naruto's mouth went dry. "I, uh—it's healing fine on its own."

"Naruto," Tsunade's voice softened dangerously, "don't lie to your Hokage."

The game was up. She knew. Somehow, she knew. Naruto's shoulders slumped in defeat. "Are you going to take it from me?"

Tsunade's eyes widened a fraction—the only indication of her surprise. "Take what, exactly?"

Had he misread the situation? Naruto hesitated, caught in a trap of his own making. If she didn't know about the eye, he'd just given himself away. If she did know and was testing him...

The decision was made for him when a sharp pain lanced through his right eye, so intense that he doubled over with a cry. Chakra surged through his system, wild and uncontrolled. The bandage grew warm, then hot, smoke rising from the fabric as it began to smolder.

"What the hell?" Tsunade was on her feet instantly, moving around the desk.

Naruto clutched at his face, trying desperately to suppress the chakra flow. But it was like trying to dam a river with his bare hands. Power poured through him, foreign and familiar all at once, setting every nerve ending on fire.

"Don't—" he gasped, but Tsunade was already there, her hands glowing with medical chakra as she tore away the burning bandage.

The Sharingan blazed in Naruto's eye socket, all three tomoe spinning wildly. Chakra visible even to the naked eye swirled around the iris—crimson streaked with orange, the colors of the Uchiha and the Nine-Tails battling for dominance.

Tsunade sucked in a sharp breath. "What have you done?"

Before Naruto could answer, the door burst open. Kakashi stood in the threshold, his own Sharingan uncovered and blazing. "I felt the chakra spike from—" He stopped mid-sentence, visible eye widening as he took in the scene. "Naruto..."

The world tilted sideways. Darkness crept in from the edges of Naruto's vision as the chakra drain became too much. The last thing he saw before consciousness fled was the horror on Tsunade's face and something else in Kakashi's exposed Sharingan—recognition.

Then nothing.

He was floating in darkness, untethered from his body. No pain here. No fear. Just endless, peaceful void.

"Wake up."

The voice cut through the darkness like a blade. Feminine. Familiar. Not Tsunade or Sakura.

"Wake up, Naruto Uzumaki. We don't have much time."

Naruto turned—or thought he did—in the void. A figure materialized before him, translucent and glowing faintly blue. Long dark hair framed a face marked by deep stress lines beneath the eyes. ANBU armor covered a slender form.

"Itami?" he gasped.

The apparition nodded. "In a manner of speaking. I am an echo, a fragment of consciousness embedded in the Sharingan I gifted you."

"Am I dead?"

A small smile touched Itami's ghostly lips. "No. You're unconscious in the Hokage's office. The chakra rejection episode temporarily overwhelmed your system."

"Rejection?" Panic flared. "Is the eye failing?"

"Quite the opposite. It's integrating more rapidly than anticipated. Your Uzumaki vitality and the Nine-Tails' chakra are accelerating the process." Itami's form flickered. "But that's not why I've manifested. I need to warn you."

"About what?"

"Danzo will know by now that I'm dead. His ROOT operatives will report my body missing, my eye gone. He will tear Konoha apart looking for it."

Naruto's mind raced. "But Tsunade and Kakashi-sensei have seen it now. They'll protect me, right?"

Itami's expression darkened. "The Hokage's power has limits. Danzo operates in shadows she cannot penetrate. And while Kakashi may sympathize, his loyalty is to Konoha first."

"What should I do?"

"Read my scroll. Learn the truth. Trust your instincts." Itami's form began to fade. "And remember—the Sharingan responds to emotion. Strong feelings will activate it whether you wish it or not. You must learn control quickly."

"Wait!" Naruto reached for her fading form. "Why me? Why not Sasuke?"

Itami's voice came as if from a great distance. "Because you see people as they truly are, not as what they can offer you. Because you understand pain without becoming it. Because the future I glimpsed with you wielding my eye was the only one where Sasuke survives what's coming."

Her form dissolved completely, leaving Naruto alone in the darkness once more. Questions crowded his mind, fighting for attention. What was coming? What danger threatened Sasuke? What truth was in the scroll?

Light began to intrude on the darkness, pulling Naruto back toward consciousness. He fought it, desperate for more answers, but the pull was too strong.

Reality rushed back with the force of a tidal wave.

Naruto's eyes snapped open—both of them. His vision was sharper than it had ever been, colors more vibrant, details crystalline in their clarity. He could see the individual fibers in the ceiling tiles above him, count the dust motes floating in the air.

"He's awake," Tsunade's voice came from his right.

Naruto turned his head. The Hokage stood beside the hospital bed where he now lay, arms crossed beneath her ample chest. Kakashi leaned against the wall near the door, visible eye watching Naruto with cautious interest.

The room was sealed—privacy barriers shimmering faintly along the walls, visible to his enhanced sight. Whatever happened here would remain here.

Naruto pushed himself upright, surprised to find no restraints holding him down. "Am I under arrest?"

Tsunade snorted. "For what? Being an idiot? We'd have to arrest half the village."

Relief washed through him, immediately followed by suspicion. This was too easy. "You're not... angry about the eye?"

"Oh, I'm furious," Tsunade said pleasantly, cracking her knuckles. "But my first priority is keeping you alive and making sure that eye doesn't reject or burn out your chakra network."

Kakashi pushed off from the wall, approaching the bed. "How did you get it, Naruto?"

The question hung in the air between them. Naruto glanced from Tsunade to Kakashi, weighing his options. Itami had warned him to trust no one except perhaps these two. Perhaps. But what choice did he have now?

"Itami Uchiha gave it to me," he said finally. "She was dying in the forest outside Konoha. Poisoned. She said it would protect me when 'they' came for me."

Kakashi and Tsunade exchanged a loaded glance.

"Itami Uchiha?" Tsunade repeated. "Itachi's sister?"

"That's what she said," Naruto confirmed. "Twin sister."

Another look passed between the adults. Kakashi's visible eye narrowed. "Naruto, Itachi Uchiha doesn't have a sister. He never did."

The words hit like a physical blow. "But she—she looked just like him! Longer hair, but the same eyes, the same face markings!"

"A transformation jutsu, perhaps," Kakashi suggested. "Or—"

"Or Itachi himself," Tsunade finished, her expression grim. "Playing some sort of game."

"No!" Naruto shook his head vehemently. "It wasn't a transformation. And it wasn't Itachi. She—" He stopped, remembering the scroll. "She gave me something else. A scroll with blood seals."

Tsunade held out her hand. "Give it to me."

Naruto hesitated. "I can't. It's keyed to my blood. It will destroy itself if anyone else tries to open it."

"Convenient," Tsunade muttered, but she lowered her hand. "Where is it?"

"In my weapons pouch. With my clothes." Naruto glanced down, realizing he was dressed in a hospital gown. His weapons and clothing would be stored in the cabinet beside the bed, standard procedure for shinobi patients.

Kakashi retrieved the pouch, handing it to Naruto without comment. The scroll was still there, nestled beneath his kunai just as he'd left it. Naruto withdrew it carefully, feeling the chakra pulse against his fingertips.

"You haven't read it yet?" Tsunade asked.

Naruto shook his head. "I was about to when Sakura knocked on my door."

"Open it now," Tsunade commanded. "Let's see what game this 'Itami' was playing."

Naruto swallowed hard, then bit his thumb. Blood welled from the small wound. He smeared it across the seal, bracing for... something. An explosion. A trap. A genjutsu.

Instead, the scroll unfurled smoothly, revealing line after line of elegant calligraphy. Naruto stared at the cramped writing, trying to make sense of the words that swam before his eyes.

"I can't read this," he admitted. "It's too... formal."

Tsunade made an impatient noise and snatched the scroll from his hands. "Let me—" She stopped, surprise flashing across her face. "I can see it. The blood seal should have—"

"She must have keyed it to accept both of you," Kakashi suggested, peering over Tsunade's shoulder at the scroll. "Or perhaps anyone Naruto willingly shares it with."

Tsunade's face grew progressively paler as she read. "This can't be right," she muttered. "This is—this would mean—"

"What?" Naruto demanded. "What does it say?"

Instead of answering, Tsunade thrust the scroll at Kakashi. The Copy Ninja's visible eye widened as he scanned the contents, his normally lazy posture stiffening with each line.

"Well?" Naruto's patience snapped. "Are you going to tell me or not?"

Kakashi looked up, his expression unreadable. "It's a confession," he said quietly. "And an accusation."

"According to this," Tsunade elaborated, her voice tight with controlled anger, "the Uchiha massacre was ordered by Konoha's Council of Elders and carried out by Itachi Uchiha under direct orders. It claims the Uchiha clan was planning a coup d'état and their elimination was deemed necessary to prevent civil war."

The room spun around Naruto. It confirmed the fragments of memories he'd glimpsed in his dreams—memories from Itami's Sharingan. "That can't be true," he whispered. "The village wouldn't—"

"There's more," Kakashi interrupted. "It specifically names Danzo Shimura as the primary architect of the massacre, claiming he used his position as leader of ROOT to manipulate events and later... harvest Sharingan from the dead Uchiha."

Nausea rose in Naruto's throat. "Harvest?"

"Surgical removal," Tsunade clarified, her medical terminology doing nothing to soften the horror. "For transplantation."

Silence fell over the room as the implications sank in. If the scroll was true, Konoha's leadership had ordered the extermination of an entire clan. They had turned Itachi into a scapegoat, branded him a traitor, and driven Sasuke down a path of vengeance based on a lie.

And now Naruto possessed knowledge that could tear the village apart.

"Is it true?" he asked finally, his voice small. "Did the village really order the massacre?"

Tsunade and Kakashi exchanged another look. The Hokage sighed heavily. "I don't know, Naruto. I wasn't in Konoha when it happened. But... there were always rumors. Questions that were never satisfactorily answered."

"I was here," Kakashi said quietly. "I was ANBU then. The official story never sat right with many of us. Itachi was... dedicated to the village. Fanatically so. His sudden betrayal made no sense."

"So it could be true," Naruto pressed.

"It could be," Tsunade admitted. "Or it could be an elaborate deception designed to turn you against Konoha. Either way, these accusations are explosive. If they got out—"

"Danzo would stop at nothing to suppress them," Kakashi finished. "And he'd start by eliminating anyone who knew."

The unspoken message was clear: Naruto was in danger. Greater danger than he'd realized.

"What do we do?" he asked.

"First," Tsunade said firmly, "we deal with that eye. You need to learn to control it before it kills you."

As if on cue, pain lanced through Naruto's right eye. He gasped, hand flying to his face. The Sharingan had activated again, responding to his emotional turmoil.

"That's the third spontaneous activation in twelve hours," Tsunade noted with clinical detachment. "Your chakra network is struggling to adapt. You need a teacher."

"I can help with the basics," Kakashi offered. "But my Sharingan is different—a transplant like Naruto's, but I've had years to adjust."

"That will have to do for now," Tsunade decided. "Isolated training, away from prying eyes. We'll tell everyone Naruto is on a special mission."

"What about Sakura and Sasuke?" Naruto asked. The thought of lying to his teammates twisted his gut, especially Sasuke. This concerned him directly—his clan, his brother.

"They can't know," Tsunade said flatly. "Especially Sasuke. His reaction would be... unpredictable."

Naruto wanted to argue but found he couldn't. Sasuke was already volatile, his desire for vengeance against Itachi all-consuming. Learning that his brother might have been following orders, that Konoha itself might be the true architect of his clan's destruction... it could push him over the edge.

And what would he think of Naruto possessing an Uchiha eye? Would he see it as theft? Desecration?

"Okay," Naruto agreed reluctantly. "But eventually, he has to know the truth. They both do."

"Eventually," Tsunade conceded. "But not until we understand exactly what we're dealing with." She rolled up the scroll and handed it back to Naruto. "Keep this hidden. Tell no one else about it or the eye. As far as the village is concerned, you're recovering from chakra exhaustion and then leaving on a training mission with Kakashi."

Naruto nodded, tucking the scroll back into his weapons pouch. "What about Danzo? If he's looking for the eye—"

"Leave Danzo to me," Tsunade's smile was sharp enough to cut. "I've been looking for an excuse to clip his wings for years."

"Be careful," Kakashi warned. "ROOT operates in shadows for a reason. And if these accusations are true, Danzo has been eliminating threats to his power for decades."

"I'm the Hokage," Tsunade reminded him. "And he's an old man with one arm and one eye."

"An old man who might have orchestrated the elimination of an entire clan," Kakashi countered. "Don't underestimate him."

Naruto listened to their exchange with growing unease. Politics had never interested him, but suddenly he found himself at the center of a conspiracy that reached to the highest levels of Konoha's leadership. The simple dream of becoming Hokage seemed childish now, naïve in the face of such complex, morally ambiguous reality.

A wave of exhaustion washed over him. The chakra drain from the Sharingan, combined with the emotional toll of these revelations, left him barely able to keep his eyes open.

Tsunade noticed immediately. "Get some rest," she ordered, her tone softening. "Your body needs time to adjust to the eye. We'll move you to a more secure location tonight."

Naruto nodded sleepily, already drifting. As consciousness began to fade, a terrible thought struck him. "Itami's memories," he mumbled. "I can see them sometimes. In dreams."

Kakashi leaned closer. "What kind of memories?"

"The massacre," Naruto whispered. "And something else. Someone in an orange mask. Claiming to be Madara Uchiha. Working with Itachi."

He didn't see the alarm that flashed across Kakashi's face, or the way Tsunade's hands clenched into white-knuckled fists. Sleep claimed him before they could ask more questions, dragging him down into darkness once again.

But this time, the darkness wasn't empty.

Images flashed behind his closed eyelids—the Sharingan sharing its secrets whether he wanted them or not. A masked figure standing atop the Fourth Hokage's stone head. Nine figures in black cloaks with red clouds. A monstrous statue with multiple eyes. Itachi facing off against a shark-like man with a massive sword. Secret meetings in forests and caves. Plans within plans within plans.

And through it all, the sense that something cataclysmic was approaching. Something that threatened not just Konoha, but the entire shinobi world.

In his sleep, Naruto's right hand twitched, reaching instinctively for a power not yet fully his. The Sharingan pulsed beneath his eyelid, tomoe spinning even in unconsciousness.

Outside his room, Tsunade and Kakashi spoke in hushed tones, making plans, assessing threats, calculating risk. They didn't notice the ANBU guard positioned in the hallway—outwardly normal, but with the blank, emotionless affect of ROOT.

Danzo's eyes and ears were everywhere. And now they were fixed firmly on Naruto Uzumaki.

Across Konoha, in the underground chambers where ROOT operated beyond the Hokage's oversight, Danzo Shimura received the report from his agent. His visible eye narrowed as he absorbed the information.

"Itachi's eye," he mused, tapping his cane against the stone floor. "In the Nine-Tails jinchūriki. Interesting."

"Your orders, Lord Danzo?" the masked agent asked.

Danzo considered his options carefully. Direct action against Uzumaki was impossible now that Tsunade knew. The boy was too valuable as a weapon, too protected as the Fourth's legacy. But the eye... that was another matter. An Uchiha Sharingan of Itachi's caliber would be a significant addition to his collection.

"Watch and wait," he decided finally. "The boy can't control it yet. When the opportunity presents itself, we will reclaim what rightfully belongs to Konoha."

The agent bowed and disappeared in a swirl of leaves, leaving Danzo alone with his thoughts. He unwrapped the bandages covering his right eye, revealing the implanted Sharingan beneath—one of many he had "salvaged" from the Uchiha massacre.

"Did you plan this, Itachi?" he murmured to the empty room. "Your final move against me?"

No answer came, but Danzo didn't need one. The game had changed, but he had been playing it longer than most of his opponents had been alive. One unexpected move wouldn't unravel decades of careful planning.

The bandages rewrapped, Danzo rose from his seat and moved toward the sealed chamber where his greatest trophy lay preserved—the arm of the First Hokage, implanted with ten Sharingan eyes, each from a different Uchiha.

Soon, perhaps, there would be room for one more.

Miles away, a figure in a black cloak with red clouds paused on a tree branch, head tilting as though listening to a distant sound. Behind an orange spiral mask, a single Sharingan eye narrowed.

"Something has changed," Tobi murmured. "The future shifts."

Beside him, a plant-like entity emerged from the tree trunk, half white, half black. "What do you sense?" the black half growled.

"A disturbance in what should be," Tobi replied cryptically. "Itachi has deviated from the script."

"Should we intervene?" the white half asked, its voice lighter, almost cheerful.

Tobi considered for a moment, then shook his head. "Not yet. This may work to our advantage. The Nine-Tails jinchūriki with a Sharingan... unexpected, but potentially useful."

"And if it disrupts our plans?"

"Then we eliminate the variable," Tobi said simply. "As we always have."

The figure melted back into the tree, leaving no trace of its presence. Above, storm clouds gathered on the horizon, moving slowly but inexorably toward Konoha.

A fitting metaphor, Tobi thought, for what was to come.

In his hospital bed, Naruto's eyes snapped open, both the blue and the Sharingan wide with shock. The dream—vision—whatever it was had felt so real. He'd seen Danzo's hidden eye, the arm with multiple Sharingan implanted in it. He'd glimpsed the masked man called Tobi, sensed his awareness, felt his calculating interest.

They were coming for him. All of them. For different reasons, with different methods, but with the same ultimate goal—to use him and the power he now carried for their own ends.

For the first time since receiving Itami's eye, true fear gripped Naruto's heart. Not fear for himself, but for what might happen if these powerful, manipulative forces got what they wanted. The Sharingan pulsed in response to his emotion, sending fresh chakra surging through his system.

But this time, instead of fighting it, Naruto embraced the rush. The eye was part of him now, for better or worse. Its power was his power. Its memories were his memories. Its enemies were his enemies.

He couldn't run from this responsibility. He could only rise to meet it.

Naruto closed his eyes, focusing inward as Jiraiya had taught him. He found the foreign chakra signature of the Sharingan and, instead of resisting it, allowed it to mingle with his own. Blue and red, swirling together, creating something new.

The pain receded, replaced by a warm tingling sensation that spread throughout his body. When he opened his eyes again, the world seemed clearer somehow, more defined. He could control the Sharingan now, activate and deactivate it at will.

It was a small victory, but significant. The first step on a new path—one that would lead him far from the simple dreams of his childhood, into a labyrinth of secrets and shadows that had shaped Konoha's history.

Whatever came next, Naruto Uzumaki would face it with two perspectives—his own boundless determination, and the cold, calculated precision of an Uchiha's sight.

The game had begun.

Lightning fractured the pre-dawn sky, illuminating the abandoned ANBU training ground in stark, electric clarity. Rain hammered down in sheets, transforming the packed earth into sucking mud that pulled at Naruto's sandals with each desperate leap backward. His lungs burned. Blood mingled with rainwater on his face, streaming from beneath the black patch that now covered his right eye.

"Again!" Kakashi's voice cut through the storm, relentless.

Naruto ripped off the patch, his Sharingan blazing to life with savage intensity. The world instantly transformed—movements slowed, chakra patterns became visible, every raindrop suspended in its descent like crystalline beads on invisible strings.

He saw Kakashi's attack coming three seconds before it happened.

The Copy Ninja blurred forward, lightning chakra crackling around his fist—not a full Chidori, but enough to put Naruto down if it connected. Naruto twisted, the movement fluid and precise in a way his body had never known before. Kakashi's fist sailed past his ear, close enough that electricity singed his wet hair.

Naruto countered, hands flashing through signs that felt both foreign and natural. "Fire Style: Phoenix Flower Jutsu!"

Small, concise fireballs erupted from his mouth, cutting through the rain with hissing defiance. Kakashi's visible eye widened a fraction—surprise, respect, concern?—before he substituted with a nearby log that exploded into charred splinters.

"Better," Kakashi's voice came from behind him. "But still too slow on the transition."

Naruto whirled, but too late. Two fingers jabbed precisely at the nerve cluster in his neck, and darkness claimed him.

When consciousness returned, he was propped against a training post, the rain reduced to a gentle patter. Kakashi crouched before him, mismatched eyes studying him with clinical detachment.

"Three minutes, seventeen seconds," his sensei noted. "Your recovery time is improving."

Naruto grimaced, massaging his neck. "You didn't have to hit so hard."

"Yes, I did." Kakashi's tone left no room for argument. "Your opponents won't hold back. Especially now."

Two weeks had passed since the hospital room revelation, two weeks of secret, brutal training in this isolated corner of Konoha's territory. Two weeks of Naruto learning to harness the power of a doujutsu never meant for an Uzumaki body, while simultaneously hiding from the forces gathering to take it from him.

"The chakra drain is still too severe," Kakashi continued, handing Naruto a soldier pill. "You're burning through reserves faster than even your enhanced recovery can replenish them."

Naruto swallowed the bitter pill, feeling its artificial energy surge through his depleted system. "I'm getting better at controlling the flow."

"Not good enough." Kakashi stood, rain dripping from his silver hair. "You lasted five minutes longer today, but in a real battle—"

"I know," Naruto cut him off, frustration edging his voice. "In a real battle, I'd be dead."

A week ago, that blunt assessment would have triggered an outburst of defiance. Now, Naruto simply accepted it as fact. The Sharingan was both blessing and curse—it granted him perception and abilities beyond his wildest dreams, but at a cost his body wasn't designed to pay.

Kakashi extended a hand, pulling Naruto to his feet. "We're done for today. You need rest."

Naruto nodded, replacing the eye patch. The sealed safe house waited a kilometer east—a small, nondescript cabin reinforced with Tsunade's most powerful protection jutsu. Four ANBU guards patrolled its perimeter, handpicked by the Hokage herself for their absolute loyalty.

Not that loyalty meant much in Konoha anymore. Not since Naruto had read the scroll.

The full contents of Itami's testament had shaken him to his core. Beyond the initial revelations about the Uchiha massacre lay layer upon layer of hidden history—conspiracies, assassinations, power struggles that had shaped the village since its founding. Names he'd revered his entire life—the Third Hokage, the Council of Elders—implicated in decisions that turned his stomach.

And at the center of it all, Danzo Shimura and his ROOT organization, operating in shadows so deep that not even the Hokage's authority could penetrate them completely.

"You're distracted," Kakashi observed as they trudged through the mud toward the safe house. "Dangerous habit."

"I'm thinking about the scroll."

Kakashi's posture stiffened almost imperceptibly. "We've discussed this."

"Not enough." Naruto stopped walking, rain pelting his upturned face. "Sasuke deserves to know the truth about his clan. About Itachi."

"And you think you should be the one to tell him?" Kakashi's voice was carefully neutral. "With an Uchiha eye in your socket that rightfully should have gone to him?"

The words stung because they contained truth. Naruto had wrestled with this guilt daily since receiving Itami's "gift." Would Sasuke see it as theft? As desecration? Or would he understand the desperate, dying choice of a woman who—according to the scroll—had sacrificed everything for the village and her brother?

"He's leaving soon," Naruto said quietly. "I can feel it. He's going to seek out Orochimaru for power."

Kakashi sighed, his breath visible in the cool air. "Naruto—"

"I had another vision." The words tumbled out before he could reconsider. "Last night. I saw Sasuke standing with Orochimaru, his body covered in curse marks. He was laughing while Konoha burned."

Silence stretched between them, broken only by the soft patter of rain. Kakashi studied Naruto's face, searching for deception and finding none.

"These visions," he finally said. "How frequent are they?"

"Almost nightly now. Sometimes during meditation." Naruto swallowed. "They feel real, Kakashi-sensei. Not like dreams."

"Precognition isn't a standard Sharingan ability."

"Maybe it's the combination with the Nine-Tails' chakra? Or maybe..." Naruto hesitated. "Maybe Itami's Sharingan was special somehow."

Kakashi's gaze sharpened. "What makes you say that?"

"There are memories that don't fit. Images of her using abilities beyond what you've taught me. A black flame that burns for days. Illusions so powerful they can trap someone in a moment of time for what feels like weeks."

"Amaterasu and Tsukuyomi," Kakashi murmured. "Mangekyo Sharingan techniques."

"Mangekyo?"

"An evolved form, awakened through trauma. Extremely rare." Kakashi resumed walking. "If Itami—or Itachi—had achieved that level, it would explain much about their capabilities."

Naruto jogged to catch up, mind racing. "Could I awaken it too?"

"Theoretically. But the cost is high. Blindness, eventually, for most users." Kakashi glanced at him. "And the traditional method of awakening it involves killing your closest friend."

Ice formed in Naruto's stomach that had nothing to do with the rain. "That's—"

"The Uchiha curse of hatred," Kakashi finished. "Power purchased with blood. Are you prepared to pay that price, Naruto?"

"Never," he answered without hesitation. "There has to be another way."

Kakashi's visible eye crinkled slightly—the closest thing to approval he ever showed. "Perhaps. But first, master what you have. Control before power. Basics before techniques."

They reached the safe house as twilight deepened into night. The ANBU guards acknowledged them with silent nods, melting back into the shadows as they passed. Inside, warmth enveloped them—a fire crackling in the small hearth, steam rising from a pot of something that smelled tantalizingly like ramen.

Tsunade sat at the rough wooden table, reading through a medical scroll. She looked up as they entered, honey-colored eyes immediately assessing Naruto's condition.

"You look like hell," she observed.

"Training was productive," Kakashi reported, shedding his sodden vest. "His control is improving. Duration up by five minutes."

"And the chakra drain?"

"Still problematic."

Tsunade beckoned Naruto closer. "Let me see."

He removed the eye patch, blinking as the Sharingan activated automatically in her presence. Tsunade cupped his face, turning it toward the light, her hands glowing with diagnostic chakra.

"The integration is progressing," she murmured. "Blood vessels fully connected. Nerve pathways stabilizing. But your chakra system is still trying to compensate for the constant drain."

"Can you fix it?" Naruto asked.

"Not completely. You'll always use more chakra than an Uchiha would for the same techniques." Her hands moved to his temples. "But I can try something new. A targeted modification to your chakra pathways around the eye."

Pain lanced through Naruto's head as Tsunade's chakra probed deeper than ever before. He gritted his teeth, fighting the instinct to pull away.

"There," she said after several agonizing minutes. "That should help. You'll need to reset the pathways daily with this hand sign sequence."

She demonstrated a complex series of seals. Naruto committed them to memory, the Sharingan automatically recording each precise movement.

"Thanks, Granny," he managed through the residual pain.

Tsunade flicked his forehead—gently, by her standards. "Don't call me that, brat." But there was no heat in her words. "Now eat something before you collapse."

Naruto didn't need to be told twice. He attacked the ramen with gusto, suddenly aware of the bone-deep hunger that accompanied chakra depletion. Kakashi and Tsunade spoke in low tones at the other end of the table, discussing security measures, intelligence reports, strategies to keep Danzo's agents at bay.

"Any news about Jiraiya?" Naruto asked between slurps.

"Still deep undercover," Tsunade replied. "His last message confirmed that Akatsuki is on the move, but he hasn't responded to our request for information about... your situation."

Naruto nodded, disappointment a familiar weight. Jiraiya was the one person he desperately wanted to talk to about all this—his godfather, his mentor, the man who had known his parents. Who better to help him navigate this impossible situation?

But the Toad Sage was unreachable, tracking Akatsuki's movements across the Five Great Nations. By the time he returned, everything might already be decided.

"I need to tell Sasuke," Naruto said abruptly. "About Itachi. About the massacre."

The conversation halted. Tsunade's eyes narrowed dangerously. "We've been through this, Naruto. It's too dangerous—for him and for you."

"He's planning to leave the village. I can feel it."

"That's not your responsibility to prevent."

"Yes, it is!" Naruto slammed his palm against the table, sending chopsticks clattering. "He's my teammate, my friend! And he's throwing his life away for revenge based on a lie!"

"A lie that has protected him," Kakashi pointed out. "If Sasuke knew the truth about the Council's orders, where would his vengeance turn? Against Konoha itself?"

"Maybe that's exactly what should happen!" The words escaped before Naruto could stop them, hanging in the shocked silence that followed.

Tsunade recovered first. "You don't mean that."

"Don't I?" Naruto's voice dropped to a whisper. "The village ordered the extermination of an entire clan. Children, Granny. Babies. And then covered it up, letting Itachi take the blame while they kept right on ruling."

"Politics is messier than your ideals, Naruto," Tsunade said, her expression hardening. "The Uchiha were planning a coup that would have resulted in civil war. Thousands would have died."

"So that justifies genocide?" Naruto's Sharingan spun faster, reflecting his growing agitation. "Is that what being Hokage means? Making calculations about whose lives matter less?"

"Enough." Kakashi's quiet command cut through the tension like a blade. "This debate serves no one. The past cannot be changed, only learned from."

Naruto subsided, the fight draining out of him. He was so tired—of secrets, of training, of the constant vigilance required to keep the eye safe. Most of all, he was tired of carrying knowledge that could destroy lives.

"I'm going to bed," he muttered, pushing away from the table.

His small room felt like a prison cell tonight, the walls pressing in with each ragged breath. Naruto sank onto the narrow bed, cradling his head in his hands. The Sharingan throbbed beneath his eyelid, a constant reminder of the burden he'd accepted.

A soft knock at the door pulled him from his dark thoughts.

"What?" he called, not bothering to hide his irritation.

Tsunade entered without invitation, closing the door behind her. In her hands she held the scroll—Itami's testament, which Naruto had memorized word for word over these past weeks.

"You need to read this again," she said, holding it out. "But this time, with both eyes."

Naruto frowned. "I've already—"

"No." Tsunade cut him off. "You've read the words. But there's something else here, something hidden beneath the surface. I suspected it the first time, but I wasn't certain until today."

Curiosity overcame resentment. Naruto took the scroll, unrolling it carefully. "What am I looking for?"

"A genjutsu, layered into the text itself. Subtle enough that it wouldn't trigger standard detection, but powerful enough to hide significant information." Tsunade moved to the door. "I'll leave you to it. Some truths are meant for specific eyes only."

She departed as abruptly as she'd arrived, leaving Naruto staring at the familiar scroll with new apprehension. A hidden genjutsu? It made sense—the ultimate security measure for information too dangerous to commit plainly to paper.

Taking a deep breath, Naruto removed his eye patch and activated the Sharingan deliberately. He focused on the scroll, channeling chakra through his right eye in the way Kakashi had taught him to dispel illusions.

"Release," he whispered.

The characters on the scroll shimmered, rearranging themselves before his mismatched eyes. The original text remained, but new lines appeared between them, glowing faintly red—visible only to a Sharingan user with the correct chakra signature.

Naruto began to read, and the world fell away.

To the bearer of my eye,

If you are reading these words, then my gamble has paid off. My eye has successfully integrated with your chakra network, and you have discovered the genjutsu embedded in this scroll. I designed it to be visible only to my own Sharingan—or rather, what was once my Sharingan and is now yours.

I don't know how much time has passed since my death. I don't know what circumstances led you to activate this hidden message. But I must assume that by now, you have learned at least part of the truth about the Uchiha massacre and my role in it.

Yes, I am Itachi Uchiha.

The female identity—Itami—was a creation of necessity. A shadow clone technique modified to create a persistent alternate persona, maintained over years to carry out missions that "Itachi" could not be associated with. Over time, this clone developed a semi-autonomous existence, with her own memories and personality traits, though always anchored to my consciousness.

When I felt death approaching—not from battle, but from illness that has consumed me for years—I made a decision. I could not allow my eyes to fall into Danzo's hands. I could not guarantee they would reach Sasuke as I had planned. I needed a third option, a contingency that not even the Akatsuki or Konoha's elders could anticipate.

I chose you, Naruto Uzumaki.

Why? Because despite everything the village has done to you, you still love it. Because your capacity for forgiveness defies reason. Because you alone might understand the impossible choice I faced: loyalty to clan or loyalty to village.

But most importantly, because you love my brother when I no longer can.

There are things you must know that were too dangerous to include in the main text:

First: The Sharingan I gave you is no ordinary eye. It is a Mangekyo Sharingan, awakened the night I killed my clan. It possesses abilities beyond standard ocular jutsu—Amaterasu, the black flames that consume anything; Tsukuyomi, the ultimate genjutsu; and a third power unique to my eyes that I sealed before the transplant. This power will unlock itself when you are ready, not before.

Second: The massacre was ordered by Danzo Shimura, with the reluctant approval of the Third Hokage and the Council of Elders. But there was another player—a man in an orange spiral mask who claims to be Madara Uchiha. He assisted me that night, killing half the clan himself for his own purposes. He is more dangerous than you can imagine, with plans that threaten not just Konoha, but the entire world.

Third: I am a double agent within Akatsuki. My loyalty has always been to Konoha, despite everything. My mission was to infiltrate their ranks and report on their movements—specifically their plans regarding the tailed beasts. They seek to capture all nine and extract them, killing the jinchūriki in the process. You are their ultimate target, Naruto.

Fourth, and perhaps most important: Sasuke must never learn the full truth while his hatred still consumes him. I planned to die by his hand, allowing him to avenge our clan and restore the Uchiha honor. If he learns that Konoha ordered the massacre, his vengeance will turn against the village. He will become what I feared most—an avenger without purpose, consumed by a hatred that can never be satisfied.

This is where you come in, Naruto. With my eye, you can show him the truth when the time is right—not through words, which he would reject, but through shared vision. The Sharingan can transfer memories directly, mind to mind. Show him not just what happened, but why. Let him feel my grief, my love for him, my impossible choice.

But only when he is ready. Only when he has moved beyond hatred.

There is one final piece of information, something I have told no one else. Danzo's right arm is infused with the First Hokage's cells and implanted with multiple Sharingan eyes harvested from my clansmen. He uses a forbidden technique called Izanagi, which allows him to rewrite reality itself for brief periods—turning fatal blows into illusions, erasing mistakes from existence. The cost is high—each use blinds one of the embedded Sharingan permanently—but in battle, he is nearly invincible while his stolen eyes remain.

His greatest fear is that the truth about the massacre will emerge. He will stop at nothing to silence anyone who knows, including the Hokage herself if necessary. Be vigilant. Trust few. Prepare for the day when confrontation becomes inevitable.

I have placed one last safeguard within the eye itself—a fragment of my consciousness that can manifest in times of extreme need. I cannot predict when or how this will occur, but know that some part of me remains to guide you when all other options fail.

The burden I have placed on you is unfair. The power I have given you is dangerous. I can only hope that you, Naruto Uzumaki—child of prophecy, son of the Fourth Hokage—will use both more wisely than I did.

May you find a path I could not see.

—Itachi Uchiha

Naruto lowered the scroll with trembling hands, his mind reeling from revelations that shattered what little certainty he had left. The Sharingan in his socket wasn't just any eye—it was a Mangekyo. Itami wasn't just Itachi's twin—she was Itachi himself, or some version of him.

And Itachi, the notorious S-rank criminal, the clan-killer, had been protecting Konoha all along.

Protecting Sasuke all along.

The pieces realigned in Naruto's mind, forming a picture both clearer and more disturbing than before. Itachi's whole life had been sacrifice after sacrifice—family, reputation, future—all surrendered for the sake of village and brother. He had shouldered hatred that should have been directed at Konoha's leadership, becoming the villain in a story written by those in power.

And now, in a final act that defied understanding, he had given one of his prized eyes to Naruto—entrusting him with both power and terrible knowledge.

"Naruto?" Kakashi's voice called from the other side of the door. "Is everything all right? Your chakra spiked."

"I'm fine," Naruto managed, hastily rolling up the scroll. "Just... practicing."

A pause. "If you're sure."

Footsteps retreated down the hallway. Naruto exhaled shakily, staring at the innocuous-looking scroll in his hands. Should he tell Tsunade and Kakashi what he'd discovered? Some of this information could be vital to the village's security—the masked man claiming to be Madara, Danzo's arm of stolen Sharingan, Akatsuki's true goals.

But other parts felt intensely personal, meant for him alone. The fragment of Itachi's consciousness hidden within the eye. The ability to share memories directly with Sasuke. The sealed third power that would awaken "when he was ready."

Ready for what?

Naruto carefully secured the scroll in his weapons pouch, decision made. He would share the strategic information—the village needed to know about threats like "Madara" and Danzo's abilities. But the personal aspects of Itachi's message, those he would keep to himself for now.

First, though, he needed to test something.

Crossing to the small mirror mounted on the wall, Naruto stared at his reflection. One blue eye, bright with determination. One red eye, three tomoe spinning lazily around the pupil. He focused chakra into the Sharingan, pushing beyond what Kakashi had taught him, seeking the power Itachi had described.

"Mangekyo," he whispered.

Nothing happened. The eye remained unchanged.

Naruto frowned, concentrating harder. What had Itachi written? The Mangekyo awakened the night he killed his clan—through trauma, through loss, through pain beyond imagining. Kakashi had said the traditional method involved killing your closest friend.

Was that the key? Emotional extremity?

Naruto closed his eyes, delving into memories not his own. He found the night of the massacre, stored within the Sharingan itself—saw through Itachi's eyes as he struck down his parents, felt the anguish that tore through his soul as their blood spattered across his ANBU armor.

The pain was overwhelming, threatening to drown him. Naruto gasped, nearly losing himself in the borrowed trauma. But there—beneath the grief and self-loathing—something else. A desperate, unwavering love. For Sasuke. For Konoha. A love so profound it could weather even the sin of kinslaughter.

Naruto latched onto that feeling, pulling it to the surface. Not the trauma, but the love behind the sacrifice. Not the act of killing, but the reason for it.

Protection. At any cost.

Heat built behind his right eye, chakra swirling in patterns he'd never experienced before. When Naruto opened his eyes and looked in the mirror, he gasped.

The Sharingan had transformed. The three tomoe had merged and shifted, forming a pinwheel pattern of black against crimson. Power radiated from it in palpable waves, chakra so dense it distorted the air around him.

Mangekyo Sharingan.

Pain followed immediately—white-hot needles driving into his brain, blood trickling from the corner of his eye. Naruto clutched the edge of the mirror, fighting to maintain consciousness as the room spun around him.

Too much chakra drain, he realized through the haze of agony. Too soon.

With tremendous effort, he forced the eye to revert to its standard form, then closed it completely. The pain receded gradually, leaving him panting and light-headed.

But it had worked. He had accessed the Mangekyo without killing anyone, without trauma—simply by connecting to the love behind Itachi's sacrifice. It was a revelation that challenged everything he'd been told about the Uchiha curse of hatred.

What other assumptions might be wrong?

A sharp rap at his window snapped Naruto from his thoughts. He whirled, kunai already in hand, only to freeze at the sight of a familiar masked face peering through the glass.

"Yamato-taichou?"

The ANBU captain gestured urgently for him to open the window. Naruto complied, glancing nervously toward his door. What was Yamato doing here? He wasn't part of the security detail Tsunade had assigned.

"No time to explain," Yamato said as he slipped into the room. "We need to move. Now."

"What's happening?"

"Danzo has made his move. The Council of Elders has called an emergency session, accusing Lady Tsunade of harboring an Uchiha fugitive and concealing vital intelligence from the village leadership."

Ice formed in Naruto's stomach. "They know about the eye."

"Worse. They're using it as pretext to remove Tsunade from power. Danzo will be appointed interim Hokage by morning if we don't act." Yamato grabbed Naruto's weapons pouch from the bed. "Lady Tsunade sent me to get you out of Fire Country before ROOT descends on this location."

"What about Kakashi-sensei? And Tsunade?"

"They're creating a diversion to buy us time." Yamato handed Naruto his jacket. "We rendezvous with Jiraiya at the Valley of the End in three days."

Naruto's mind raced. "Wait—I need to see Sasuke first."

"Absolutely not. The Uchiha compound is under surveillance."

"Then I'll find him at the training grounds, or—"

"Naruto." Yamato's voice was steel. "Sasuke Uchiha left Konoha six hours ago. Four Sound ninja were seen escorting him toward Rice Country."

The news hit like a physical blow. Sasuke gone. Already on his way to Orochimaru, just as Naruto had foreseen. And he'd done nothing to stop it.

"We have to go after him!"

"Our priority is keeping that eye—and you—out of Danzo's hands." Yamato moved to the window. "Lady Tsunade's orders were explicit. We leave now."

"And abandon the village? Abandon Sasuke?" Naruto shook his head vehemently. "I won't run."

Yamato's expression hardened behind his mask. "This isn't a request, Naruto. It's an order from your Hokage."

"Then she'll have to forgive me for disobeying." Naruto's hands flashed through seals. "Shadow Clone Jutsu!"

A dozen clones filled the small room, each wearing Naruto's determined expression. Before Yamato could react, they scattered through the window in different directions, creating a chaotic diversion.

The real Naruto faced the ANBU captain, Sharingan blazing. "I'm going after Sasuke. With or without your help."

Yamato studied him for a long moment, then sighed. "Lady Tsunade said you'd be difficult." He reached into his vest and withdrew a small scroll. "Contingency plan. Coordinates for Sasuke's most likely route to Orochimaru's northern hideout."

Hope surged in Naruto's chest. "You'll help me?"

"I'll help you try," Yamato corrected. "But when—not if, when—this goes sideways, we follow the original extraction plan. Agreed?"

It wasn't ideal, but it was better than nothing. Naruto nodded.

"Good. Now we need to move fast. ROOT will have detected your clones by now." Yamato performed a series of hand signs, touching the wooden floor. "Wood Style: Four-Pillar House Technique."

The floor beneath them opened up, revealing a tunnel that hadn't existed moments before. Yamato gestured for Naruto to enter.

"This will take us beyond the village perimeter. From there, we head northeast toward the Valley of the End. With luck, we can intercept Sasuke before he crosses the border."

Naruto hesitated, suddenly uncertain. Was he making the right choice? Tsunade had ordered him to flee the country for his own safety. The eye he carried was too valuable to risk in a confrontation with Orochimaru's forces.

But Sasuke was walking into darkness. Without knowing the truth. Without understanding the brother he hated so passionately.

The choice crystallized with perfect clarity.

"Let's go," Naruto said, leaping into the tunnel.

Behind them, explosions rocked the eastern edge of Konoha—Kakashi and Tsunade's diversion in full swing. As the tunnel closed above their heads, Naruto caught one last glimpse of the night sky, stars obscured by rising smoke.

The village he loved was in chaos. The friend he cherished was slipping away. And somewhere in the shadows, Danzo Shimura prepared to seize power that would give him control over everything Naruto held dear.

The stakes had never been higher. The burden of Itachi's eye—his trust, his legacy, his final gamble—weighed heavier than ever on Naruto's shoulders.

But for the first time since receiving this unwanted gift, Naruto felt certain of his path.

He would save Sasuke. He would protect the truth. He would honor Itachi's sacrifice.

No matter the cost.

Miles away, at the edge of Fire Country, Sasuke Uchiha paused on a high branch, gazing back toward the village he was abandoning. Curse marks crawled across his skin like living tattoos, pulsing with Orochimaru's corrupting chakra.

"Having second thoughts?" Sakon sneered, the second head on his shoulder leering at Sasuke with malicious amusement.

"No." Sasuke's voice was ice. "Just saying goodbye to weakness."

But something tugged at his consciousness—a familiar chakra signature moving rapidly in his direction. Bright and warm and determined.

Naruto.

Sasuke's lips curved in a cold smile. Perhaps he would have one final opportunity to sever those bonds completely.

The Valley of the End seemed an appropriate setting for such a farewell.

In Konoha's underground ROOT headquarters, Danzo Shimura studied the reports with satisfaction. Everything was proceeding according to plan. The jinchūriki had fled with Captain Yamato—predictable, exactly as he'd anticipated. Tsunade's pathetic diversion on the eastern wall had fooled no one.

By sunrise, he would be named acting Hokage. By nightfall, he would have Itachi's eye.

"Prepare the pursuit squad," he ordered the kneeling ANBU before him. "Elite only. Authorization to use lethal force against anyone except the jinchūriki."

"Yes, Lord Danzo."

"And send word to our agent near Orochimaru. The Uchiha boy may become... collateral damage... if necessary to secure our primary objective."

The ANBU hesitated fractionally. "The last Uchiha, sir?"

Danzo's visible eye narrowed dangerously. "Are you questioning my orders?"

"No, Lord Danzo. It will be done."

As the agent departed, Danzo turned to the wall of his chamber, where a glass case housed his greatest triumph—the arm of the First Hokage, embedded with ten Sharingan eyes harvested from the Uchiha massacre. Soon, he would add another—the evolved Mangekyo of Itachi Uchiha, perhaps the most powerful Sharingan ever manifested.

With it, he would reshape Konoha into the perfect weapon he had always envisioned. No more compromise. No more weakness disguised as compassion.

Only strength. Only order. Only his vision of peace.

"Soon," he murmured to the stolen eyes that stared lifelessly from their preserved prison. "Very soon."

Outside his chamber, thunder rumbled across Konoha's skies—nature itself seeming to acknowledge the storm that was about to break.