System in Assassin's Creed

Chapter 373: Chapter 372: The Sins of the Crow

Deep Forests - Land of Fire - Elemental Nations

The canopy of the deep forest, situated several kilometers outside the fortified walls of Konohagakure, was so impossibly dense that the fading twilight struggled to pierce the foliage. Shadows clung to the ancient, moss-draped trunks, creating a sprawling, silent labyrinth that felt entirely divorced from the busy village nearby.

Itachi Uchiha slipped through this gloom like a phantom, his footfalls making absolutely no sound against the damp earth.

He came to a smooth, unhurried halt in the center of a small, naturally formed clearing. He did not immediately turn around. Instead, his dark eyes shifted toward the periphery of his vision, his highly refined senses expanding outward to meticulously sweep the surrounding woods. He searched for the faint, subterranean ripples of displaced earth or the subtle, parasitic chakra signature of Zetsu.

He found nothing.

’The watcher is absent,’ Itachi deduced silently, the tension in his shoulders easing by a microscopic fraction. ’It is as I suspected. The Akatsuki are deeply, profoundly terrified of confronting Alaric. Zetsu wouldn’t dare extend his roots anywhere near the borders of Konoha while that anomaly resides within it.’

The quiet rustle of leaves breaking the canopy drew his attention upward.

A moment later, a figure dropped from the high branches, landing heavily on the soft loam with a muffled thud. Sasuke Uchiha straightened up, his breathing slightly elevated from the frantic, high-speed pursuit that had led them far beyond the Hokage Monument.

Sasuke glared at the back of his older brother, his hands balled into tight, white-knuckled fists at his sides. The sheer, suffocating frustration of the past hour... the humiliating defeat, the shattered illusions, and the exhausting chase... boiled over.

”Don’t keep running anymore,” Sasuke demanded, his voice a harsh, serrated whisper that cut through the quiet forest. ”Just say whatever it is you wanted to say. Stop playing these pathetic games with me, Itachi.”

Itachi slowly turned around.

The wind ruffled the dark fabric of his simple civilian shirt, a stark contrast to the ominous, cloud-patterned cloak he usually wore. He looked at his younger brother, his onyx eyes locking onto Sasuke’s furious, spinning Sharingan. The heavy, impenetrable mask of the emotionless clan killer seemed to waver slightly, revealing the exhausted, deeply burdened man beneath.

Itachi allowed the silence to stretch for a long, heavy moment before he finally spoke.

”You won’t hear this from me again...” Itachi said, his voice dropping into a soft, impossibly gentle register that Sasuke hadn’t heard since he was seven years old. ”...but I’m sorry.”

”...”

”...”

”...”

Absolute, deafening silence overcame the dense forest.

Sasuke stood entirely paralyzed, his jaw slackening slightly as his mind violently stalled. He was completely speechless. It wasn’t because the apology had struck a deep, emotional chord within his heart, nor did it magically wash away a decade of trauma. No, he was speechless because the sheer, unadulterated audacity of the statement was utterly baffling.

”What... are you saying?” Sasuke finally choked out, his voice cracking with a mixture of profound confusion and rising disbelief.

”...” Itachi did not reply. He simply continued staring at his brother, his expression an unreadable canvas of quiet remorse.

The shock evaporated, instantly replaced by an incandescent, blistering fury. Sasuke gritted his teeth so hard a faint, grinding sound echoed in the clearing. The three tomoe in his eyes spun wildly as he took a threatening step forward.

”Sorry?” Sasuke spat, the word dripping with venomous mockery. ”You murdered our parents! You butchered every single man, woman, and child in our clan, and you stood over their corpses and told me you did it just to test your strength! And now you stand here, a decade later, and expect a simple apology to suffice!? You shouldn’t say sorry! You should just draw your blade and kill me, or let me kill you!”

Itachi absorbed the venom without flinching. He took his time, allowing Sasuke’s rage to burn the oxygen from the air before he offered his response.

”What Konoha has shared about me through their recent publications... the ’Danzo Files’ that the Fifth Hokage released to the public...” Itachi began, his tone steady and clinical, ”was the truth, Sasuke.”

He watched the denial flare in his brother’s eyes, but pressed on.

”It was Danzo Shimura who cornered me. He orchestrated the political isolation of our clan, forcing them toward a coup d’état. He then presented me with an impossible ultimatum: side with the Uchiha and watch the entire village, including you, perish in a civil war, or execute my own family to preserve Konoha’s peace and guarantee your survival.”

Itachi closed his eyes for a fraction of a second, the ghosts of that night flashing vividly in his mind.

”From my point of view back then, as a thirteen-year-old boy carrying the weight of a world on the brink of collapse, there was absolutely no other way. I believed I was making the only viable choice,” Itachi confessed, the heavy burden of hindsight bleeding into his words. ”It was just too late when I finally realized that I was merely a pawn in Danzo’s overarching game of power.”

Sasuke’s chest heaved, his breathing ragged. He wanted to scream that it was a lie, a desperate fabrication meant to save Itachi’s skin. But his active Sharingan... honed to detect the microscopic fluctuations in chakra, the dilation of pupils, and the subtle twitches of muscle that betrayed deceit—found absolutely nothing. Itachi’s face, his body language, the steady, rhythmic flow of his internal energy... it was all devastatingly honest.

A small, paranoid voice in the back of Sasuke’s mind whispered that Itachi might have simply trapped him in another, infinitely more complex Genjutsu. He had done it effortlessly on the Hokage Monument, after all. But logic quickly crushed the suspicion. Itachi wouldn’t have led him kilometers away from the village, abandoning his Akatsuki persona, just to cast an illusion of an apology.

”Even if that were true,” Sasuke countered, his voice trembling slightly as the foundation of his hatred began to crack. ”Even if you were ordered to do it... you couldn’t have done it alone. The Konoha Military Police Force wasn’t weak enough to be completely wiped out in a single night by one person. You were a strong ANBU captain, yes, but you were still just a kid.”

Sasuke’s tactical mind dissected the logistics of the massacre. It wasn’t entirely true that Itachi lacked the raw power; Sasuke knew his brother possessed the lethal efficiency to slaughter them individually. However, the sheer volume of the Uchiha forces meant that a solo assault would have inevitably triggered alarms, allowing the ANBU operatives of Konoha to catch up to him before the deed was finished, no matter how powerful he was.

”You had help,” Sasuke concluded, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. He asked hesitantly, dreading the answer. ”Who was your accomplice?”

Itachi stared at Sasuke for a long moment, a heavy sigh escaping his lips.

”At that time, a man approached me,” Itachi revealed, his voice dropping into a solemn register. ”He sought me out with the explicit purpose of recruiting me into a mercenary organization called the Akatsuki.”

Sasuke’s eyes widened drastically. The web of conspiracy was far larger than he had ever imagined. The Akatsuki... the very same S-rank terrorists who had targeted Naruto and nearly killed the Kazekage... were intimately, fundamentally connected to the darkest night of his life.

”The man wore a mask,” Itachi continued smoothly, tracing the lineage of the lie. ”And he introduced himself to me as Madara Uchiha, the legendary past head of our clan.”

”If you are talking about the masked man who showed up in the cavern,” Sasuke interrupted sharply, stepping forward with an aggressive scowl, ”then that idiot wasn’t Madara Uchiha. He was—”

”—Uchiha Obito,” Itachi finished seamlessly, cutting off his brother’s revelation.

Sasuke blinked, momentarily derailed by the fact that Itachi already possessed the critical piece of intelligence.

”I know,” Itachi confirmed quietly, offering a faint, almost appreciative nod. ”I have carried the suspicion for years that the man in the mask was not who he proclaimed to be. The timeline and his behavior never quite aligned with the myth of Madara. But I lacked the definitive proof to act upon my doubts. It was Alaric who confirmed it for me.”

”Alaric... that man again...”

Sasuke gritted his teeth, a profound, deeply aggravating frustration bubbling up inside him. He was so confused. From the extensive research he had desperately conducted over the past few years, and from the fragmented stories his sensei, Kakashi, had reluctantly shared, Alaric Jonathan Kenway was an absolute ghost. He was a man who had suddenly, inexplicably registered as a Jonin in Konoha mere weeks before the Chunin Exams three years ago. Other than that impossibly brief history, no one knew of his existence, his origins, or his lineage.

It was infuriatingly odd how a man so completely shrouded in mystery possessed a level of power so absolute that every veteran shinobi Sasuke had ever questioned simply shook their heads and admitted they didn’t stand a ghost of a chance against him.

And now, this enigmatic blonde giant was somehow deeply involved with the intricacies of the Uchiha Clan’s massacre and the deepest secrets of the Akatsuki?

As if effortlessly reading the chaotic, resentful thoughts scrolling across his younger brother’s face, Itachi immediately clarified the misconception.

”Alaric is not involved with the tragedies of the Uchiha, Sasuke,” Itachi said firmly, shutting down the paranoid theory before it could take root. ”He is an observer who happens to see the board far clearer than the rest of us.”

Sasuke took a moment, forcing his breathing to steady as he crossed his arms defensively over his chest. He looked at his older brother, the burning need for answers temporarily eclipsing his desire for revenge.

”Then just who is he?” Sasuke demanded, his voice tight. ”How is he so unbelievably strong? And why is that ice-user... why is Haku so strong? They completely break the logic of what a shinobi should be capable of.”

Itachi raised a singular, elegant brow at the barrage of questions. A faint, almost imperceptible gleam of amusement danced in his dark eyes as he noted the specific inclusion of his student.

”Are you taking a specific interest in Haku?” Itachi asked, his tone tilting into a perfectly deadpan delivery. He tilted his head slightly. ”You do know that Haku is a boy, correct?”

Sasuke’s eyes widened to comical proportions, a violent, instantaneous flush of red exploding across his cheeks. A prominent, throbbing vein instantly materialized on his forehead as he practically choked on his own spit.

”I wasn’t implying anything like that!” Sasuke roared defensively, his composure shattering entirely. ”And even if Haku was a girl, he is just older than me! That’s all! It was a tactical question about his power scaling, you idiot!”

Itachi paused, letting the silence stretch for a few agonizing seconds. He looked at his younger brother’s flushed, fiercely indignant face, finding the panicked, overly-defensive reply a bit... well, gay.

”So...” Itachi murmured slowly, his velvety voice laced with a subtle, teasing lilt that completely undermined his reputation as a stoic mass-murderer. ”...you are thinking about it.”

Before Sasuke could utterly blow his top and launch another, infinitely more desperate Raikiri just to wipe the smugness from the air, Itachi did the unthinkable.

He smiled.

It wasn’t the sad, melancholic smile of a martyr, nor was it the cruel, mocking smirk of a villain. It was a bright, genuine, and profoundly warm smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes... a smile that instantly transported Sasuke back to a sunlit afternoon when he was five years old, begging his older brother to teach him shuriken jutsu.

Sasuke completely froze. The furious retort died on his tongue. He simply stared at the expression, the sheer, crushing nostalgia of it hitting him like a physical weight.

”As for your questions,” Itachi continued, shaking his head gently as the smile softened into something quietly respectful. ”I only met Alaric very recently, when your team went to rescue the Godaime Kazekage from our hideout. Before that day, I knew absolutely nothing of him. Even the Akatsuki’s best spy, Zetsu, was completely unaware of his existence before things catastrophically blew up in the cavern.”

Itachi looked up at the slivers of dark sky visible through the canopy. ”So, regarding how Alaric is so powerful, I do not have an answer for you. He is an anomaly that simply exists.”

He shifted his gaze back to Sasuke, his expression turning serious. ”But as for the Ice Demon, Yuki Haku... I can only assume his monstrous capabilities are the direct result of surviving Alaric’s training program. I do not know the specifics of his regimen. But I do know this...”

Itachi paused, the gravity of his next statement forcing Sasuke to pay absolute attention.

”If I were to engage the Ice Demon in a true, unrestricted death battle today,” Itachi admitted, his voice carrying the calm, clinical humility of a true master, ”I am genuinely not sure of the outcome. The margins are terrifyingly thin.”

Sasuke’s eyes widened, the breath leaving his lungs in a sharp exhale. ”What!?”

’...That is the gap between Haku and I?’ Sasuke thought, his mind reeling as the sheer, insurmountable distance crystallized before him.

He couldn’t believe it. During the Chunin Exams three years ago, Haku was already definitively stronger than him and every other Genin in Konoha. Sasuke had rationalized the defeat back then; Haku was older, more experienced, and possessed a lethal Kekkei Genkai. Sasuke had genuinely believed that with enough intense, grueling training under Kakashi and the power of the Curse Mark, he would one day surpass Haku, or at least confidently stand on the Ice Demon’s level.

But to realize that Haku had accelerated so violently that he was now operating on the exact same, god-like tier as Itachi... while Sasuke himself hadn’t even been able to land a single, meaningful scratch on his older brother? It was a crushing, humiliating blow to his prodigious pride.

Itachi looked at his brother, easily reading the turbulent storm of inadequacy and ambition warring in Sasuke’s eyes.

”It seems,” Itachi commented smoothly, breaking the heavy silence, ”that you have another goal to reach now, Sasuke. A benchmark beyond your revenge.”

Sasuke raised a brow, the shock slowly receding as his trademark stubbornness fiercely reasserted itself. He glared at his older brother, letting out a sharp, dismissive scoff that sounded far more like his usual self.

”Don’t change the subject,” Sasuke grunted, crossing his arms tightly over his chest, refusing to let the Uchiha patriarch off the hook so easily. ”I haven’t forgiven you yet. You still have a massive amount of explaining to do regarding the specifics of that night.”

He stepped closer, his dark eyes burning with an unyielding, absolute demand for justice.

”And,” Sasuke added, his voice dropping into a cold, uncompromising register, ”you have to bow down on the graves of every single Uchiha clan member that you killed, and beg for their forgiveness, before I will even think about forgiving you.”

Itachi took a long moment, internalizing the heavy, rightful demands his younger brother had placed upon him. He looked at the fierce, unbroken spirit of the boy he had sacrificed his soul to protect, and felt a profound, overwhelming sense of relief wash away a decade of suffocating guilt.

He offered a slow, deeply respectful nod of his head, and smiled.

”Yes.”

.

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