The eternal tomoe of Uchiha Itachi's Mangekyō Sharingan spun slowly, casting a crimson glow that seemed to pierce the very air. His demeanor was calm, cold, and composed—just as it had been during his years in Akatsuki. That indifference radiated from him, cloaking the atmosphere with a suffocating heaviness.
Beneath the stage, rows of shinobi stood in silence. Some gritted their teeth. Others frowned. Their eyes bore into Itachi—some with anger, some with suspicion, and some with outright hatred.
Itachi's gaze swept over them. He sneered faintly, his voice steady as he began:
"Everyone… let me tell you a story."
His words cut through the tense silence like a blade.
"For the sake of the village, one man chose to carry out the unthinkable. He turned his blade against his own clan—the very people who raised him, who bore his name. In a single night, he shouldered the weight of sin and slaughtered them all… to prevent a rebellion that would have plunged the village into civil war and destroyed everything."
The crowd shifted uneasily, some muttering, others glaring. Itachi's voice remained calm.
"That man then chose to walk the path of an outcast. He joined Akatsuki, not to destroy the village, but to spy on them. He carried their trust and their hatred, all the while feeding Konoha information to ensure its safety."
He paused, eyes narrowing as if speaking from the depths of memory.
"Later, that same man allowed himself to die by his younger brother's hand… so that his brother, Sasuke, could be hailed as a hero of the village instead of a traitor. That was his final redemption."
Itachi's tone grew sharper.
"But fate is cruel. Someone resurrected me, forcing me back into this world, and gave me another chance. A chance to walk a path of true redemption—not through lies and shadows, but openly."
His gaze hardened, his Sharingan spinning.
"I have since chosen to help Naruto Uzumaki. I fought beside him, and through his light, I found the courage to continue. I know well your hatred. I know the crime I carry cannot be erased, not by excuses, not by justifications. Even if it was for the village, I stained my hands in my clan's blood. I will not ask you to forgive me… I do not forgive myself. But everything I did, I did for peace."
The crowd fell silent. His words carried both confession and defiance.
Few among them could imagine holding that kind of resolve—to sacrifice everything, even their family, for the greater whole. And fewer still could imagine living as a pariah, branded a traitor, while quietly ensuring the village's survival.
At that moment, another voice broke through the silence.
Shisui Uchiha stepped forward. His eyes, too, swirled with Mangekyō Sharingan. Standing tall beside his brother-in-arms, he looked upon the crowd.
"Itachi is not alone."
The shinobi below turned their eyes to him.
"Back then, I too sought to prevent disaster in my own way. I planned to use my Mangekyō technique—Kotoamatsukami—to alter the will of the Uchiha clan and avoid bloodshed. But Danzō Shimura did not believe in me. He feared the power of my eye and tore it from me. My resolve crumbled."
His fists clenched as his voice shook with suppressed rage.
"In my despair, I gave my remaining eye to Itachi. Then, I leapt into the river and chose death rather than face the coup and the slaughter that I knew was coming. That was my weakness… my cowardice."
Shisui's voice deepened, filled with shame.
"I placed my burden on Itachi's shoulders. Unlike me, he didn't run. He faced the storm directly. He sacrificed everything—his clan, his name, his honor—for this village. For you."
Shisui's Sharingan spun violently, his chakra flaring as his Susanoo erupted around him with a thunderous roar. A towering green figure of armored might loomed above the gathering, its power shaking the ground. The shinobi below shielded their eyes from the swirling dust and debris.
Standing on Susanoo's shoulder, Shisui shouted:
"Today, you heard the Fifth Hokage appoint me as training captain. Many of you served under me before. You know my strength, you know my will. Now, as your captain, I give this command: Uchiha Itachi's past is to remain in the past. His sacrifice was for the village. For you. If anyone has a problem with that, then you have a problem with me."
The crowd murmured. Shisui's words struck deep.
"I will not run from challenge. If any among you objects, step forward. Fight me here and now. I, Shisui of the Body Flicker, accept your challenge!"
He pointed to the shinobi gathered.
"Who agrees… and who opposes?"
A heavy silence fell. Shisui's eyes swept over them. Unlike the suffocating pressure of most Mangekyō, his gaze carried something different—a power that compelled obedience, as if resistance itself was futile. It was no wonder he had been hailed as the wielder of the strongest Genjutsu, Kotoamatsukami.
Finally, one voice rang out.
"I'll do it!"
A Jōnin stepped forward. Then another.
"I oppose!"
"Count me in as well!"
"Add me!"
One after another, shinobi declared their challenge. They were no weaklings—seasoned Jōnin, veterans of war. Their clans carried weight: Hyūga, Sarutobi, the Ino–Shika–Chō trio, and others.
The Hyūga Jōnin leading them sneered. "Uchiha eyes aren't the only power in Konoha. The Byakugan of the Hyūga clan stands equal, if not superior!"
Behind him, Hyūga shinobi shouted in agreement.
From the high platform, Kakashi Hatake watched quietly. He made no move to stop them. After all, leadership was more than appointment—it was about respect earned in battle. To lead shinobi, one had to prove their strength. Kakashi had subtly signaled this outcome to them.
Itachi leapt down from the stage, landing beside Shisui.
"Then I too, as vice-captain, accept your challenge."
Shisui smirked, lowering his Susanoo. "Let's not use too much power. If I unleash Susanoo, the damage will be too great."
Itachi gave the faintest smile. "It seems you still show restraint."
"Restraint is a captain's duty," Shisui said. "I cannot slaughter my own subordinates."
The Hyūga Jōnin spat, veins bulging at his temples as his Byakugan flared. "You Uchiha think too highly of yourselves! The Hyūga will prove our superiority!"
Shouts echoed from the crowd.
"Itachi! Shisui!"
"Face us!"
The air grew electric with anticipation.
Shisui glanced at Itachi, his lips curling. "Do you remember our first mission together?"
Itachi's eyes softened, recalling the memory. "I do."
"Then let's join forces again."
The challengers fanned out, twenty-three in total, each one battle-hardened. The Hyūga Jōnin raised his hand. "We've trained together. Let's use formation tactics against them!"
"Agreed!"
"I'll be the vanguard!" shouted another voice. A familiar figure stepped forward—Yamanaka Hayate, known once as Wild Wind.
Shisui's eyes widened. "Hayate… you're alive."
Yamanaka bowed respectfully. "Captain Shisui. It's been a long time. I never thought I would see you again."
Shisui smiled sadly. "Neither did I."
Hayate's face grew grim. "But forgive me, captain. Instead of letting others fight you, let me be the one to face you first."
Shisui placed a hand on his shoulder and nodded. "So be it. You know my abilities. Show me your resolve… and do not disappoint me."
The battlefield was set. Twenty-three against two. The Uchiha stood side by side, Sharingan blazing, ready to prove not only their strength, but their loyalty to the village.
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