Ryosuke carefully observed the radiant smile on Uchiha Itachi's face. Though Itachi smiled on the surface, Ryosuke could tell that he had been trained from a young age to hide his true emotions, never showing his real thoughts to others.
If Ryosuke didn't already know from future knowledge that Itachi would one day slaughter the Uchiha clan with his own hands, he might've actually believed that smile.
Itachi wasn't someone who would so easily change his mind just from being asked a single question.
Ryosuke still wasn't sure whether Itachi had already been fully brainwashed by the so-called Will of Fire, aligning entirely with Konoha's leadership.
A normal clansman would naturally side with their family. But Itachi? He had discarded familial and emotional bonds, choosing instead to protect the peace of the village.
But really—a Konoha without family, without loved ones—why should that matter to him at all?
At the tender age of three, Itachi had been taken to the battlefield by his father, Uchiha Fugaku, to witness the horrors of war. That experience had warped him. It had him contemplating the meaning of life far too early.
He began to see things from the Hokage's perspective and likely even now was pondering the conflict between the clan and the village—how to maintain true peace.
Then, thinking himself enlightened and morally superior, he would later annihilate his own clan in a saint-like sacrifice.
But truthfully, even if the Uchiha had their faults, did those flaws really justify wiping out an entire clan, including women, children, and not even sparing a dog?
The real conflict between the Uchiha and Konoha's leadership stemmed from power.
The higher-ups feared the ever-strengthening Uchiha would eventually rise too high and seize political control. So they kept the Uchiha down, blocking their access to real influence.
But why shouldn't the Uchiha hold positions of power?
The Senju clan had declined. The Uchiha had become the strongest clan in the shinobi world, boasting prodigies like Shisui and Itachi.
Meanwhile, the core of the Hokage faction was crumbling.
The Legendary Sannin were nowhere near as glorious as they used to be:
Tsunade had been psychologically broken during the Second Great Ninja War, suffering from hemophobia and giving up on being a shinobi entirely. Now she wandered the land as a gambling addict.
Orochimaru had betrayed the village after being caught conducting inhumane experiments.
Jiraiya roamed the world writing perverted novels like Icha Icha Paradise, claiming to search for some "Child of Prophecy."
With such a broken core, did the Third Hokage truly feel threatened by the Uchiha's rise?
The idea that the Uchiha couldn't be trusted with Konoha's leadership was ridiculous. With geniuses like Shisui and Itachi, the Uchiha could easily crush the other Hidden Villages if needed.
But no—the cowardly Hiruzen Sarutobi, the Third Hokage, believed the Uchiha were destabilizing elements in the village. Worse still, Danzo Shimura outright called them a "sinister clan."
Why? Because both men feared losing power.
And let's be honest: the Third Hokage was old, ineffective, and obsolete.
During the Third Great Ninja War, he hid in the rear, taking no part in front-line battles—unlike other Kage who led their forces from the front.
Konoha's victories in that war were thanks to the sacrifices of brave shinobi—not the "benevolence" of the old man in the Hokage's chair.
And don't even mention the Nine-Tails attack. Hiruzen had been utterly useless.
If any normal person were in his place, they'd have already stepped down in shame. But not Hiruzen. He clung to his position like a leech.
Then there was Danzo—Konoha's true shadow, the villain behind countless atrocities. Ryosuke couldn't understand how Itachi could ever be loyal to someone like that.
Trying to chip away at Itachi's blind loyalty, Ryosuke said carefully:
"Honestly, if our Uchiha clan rose to power in Konoha, I think we'd do a better job maintaining peace than the aging Third Hokage ever could.
What do you think, Itachi?"
That question struck a nerve. Itachi's pupils narrowed. He was clearly shaken.
So Ryosuke was part of the radical faction, then—actually entertaining the idea of seizing control of the village.
To Itachi, this was disgusting.
He already saw the Uchiha as a selfish clan. Giving them leadership would not bring peace, only tyranny.
He remembered when he first awakened his Sharingan—after his comrade Tenma died in battle. He had told his father the news, expecting sympathy. Instead, Fugaku congratulated him for gaining power.
That had deeply disappointed Itachi and confirmed his belief that the clan cared more about power than people.
In his mind, the Third Hokage had done his best for the village—bringing peace and prosperity. As far as he was concerned, Hiruzen was still one of Konoha's strongest assets, not some withered figure as Ryosuke implied.
He finally replied:
"You shouldn't speak like that. The Third Hokage has brought great peace to the village.
He's far from senile—in fact, he's still one of Konoha's strongest ninja."
Ryosuke was speechless.
Sure, Hiruzen still had strength—but he had hidden during the war, while others sacrificed everything.
The Uchiha had held off Kirigakure, and Minato had fought on the frontlines against both Iwagakure and the AB brothers from Kumogakure.
That's what secured peace—not anything Hiruzen had done.
Clearly, Itachi had been brainwashed by the village's propaganda—textbooks glorifying the Third Hokage as "The Strongest."
Ryosuke couldn't believe it.
If Hiruzen was the strongest Hokage, what did that make Hashirama, the God of Shinobi, or Tobirama, the master of forbidden jutsu?
Letting Itachi continue on this path would lead only to destruction. And it explained why he followed Danzo's false orders to exterminate the clan without hesitation.
Ryosuke felt a sense of powerlessness.
He wasn't like Naruto—he didn't have the kind of Talk-no-Jutsu that could pierce someone's soul. Changing Itachi's mind seemed almost impossible.
Still, he tried again.
"Itachi, you can still stand with the clan. Surely even you can see Danzo's hatred toward the Uchiha, right?
He's constantly called us an evil clan and has always coveted our Sharingan."
But before Ryosuke could finish, Itachi's face darkened.
He didn't like Danzo's cruelty—but he still respected his service to the village.
Itachi believed that Danzo's "dirty work" protected Konoha from the shadows.
"You don't understand how much Danzo has done for the village," Itachi snapped.
"He's eliminated countless enemies to preserve peace.
How dare you slander him like this?"
Ryosuke was stunned. He hadn't expected Itachi to idolize Danzo of all people.
So that was why he had obeyed Danzo's order in the original story—he actually thought Danzo was a hero.
Ryosuke could feel the fury boiling in Itachi. The discussion had gone south fast.
Sighing deeply, Ryosuke could only lament: how could such a brilliant Uchiha genius fall for Danzo's lies?
This wasn't brilliance. This was thinking like a dog—blind loyalty without reason.
Danzo's sins were endless:
He claimed to inherit Tobirama's beliefs, calling the Uchiha inherently evil.
After the Nine-Tails attack, he advocated for relocating the Uchiha away from Konoha's center.
He pressured them at every step, practically begging for rebellion.
And now, he even had a Sharingan hidden in his bandaged right eye and arm.
The same man who called the Uchiha evil was secretly hoarding their power—a textbook double standard.
Yet here was Itachi, worshiping that hypocrite like a savior.
Ryosuke wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry.
Still, he had to try one last time. So he dropped a bombshell question:
"Let's not argue about what kind of person Danzo really is.
But what if one day, Konoha's leadership ordered you to annihilate the Uchiha clan?
That would include Uchiha Izumi, too.
What would you do then?"
He hoped this question would strike at Itachi's last remaining emotion—his feelings for Izumi.
Maybe Izumi was important enough to bring him back from the brink.
But upon hearing the question, Itachi's pupils dilated in shock and rage.
That was far too extreme a scenario. He had infiltrated the Hokage's faction to prevent exactly that kind of tragedy.
He believed Hiruzen was too kind to allow such a massacre.
As for himself? He lacked the power and will to kill his entire clan—let alone someone like Izumi.
He considered Ryosuke dangerously paranoid. Even the radical faction wouldn't dare suggest something as insane as clan-wide genocide.
"The Hokage would never allow that," Itachi muttered under his breath. "Such an act would be meaningless and bring ruin to the entire village."
Ryosuke looked at him solemnly.
"Don't get angry. I'm asking: if that moment came, what would you choose?"
Itachi didn't answer.
To him, there was no point in indulging hypotheticals that would never happen.
If everyone in the Uchiha clan was like Ryosuke—narrow-minded, paranoid, and hostile—then perhaps the clan truly wasn't worth saving.
He believed shinobi should prioritize the village over clan loyalty, and Ryosuke's extreme views only made his conviction stronger.
Still, he chose to calm himself and respond quietly:
"That's a question I won't answer—because that kind of situation…
will never happen."