Realizing Duan had decided to linger here was a sudden spark in his mind.
He glanced at Itachi, then said to Izumi: "Little girl, my nephew isn't feeling well. Can I trouble you to walk him home?"
Izumi froze for a moment, then nodded quickly, like a bird pecking rice. "O-Okay… of course."
"Then I'll leave him to you."
Without another word, Duan patted Itachi's shoulder, then turned and walked away down the street.
Under the glow of the streetlights, Itachi and Izumi's eyes met briefly before they both looked away in silence.
After a pause, Itachi spoke first:
"Sorry. If my uncle's actions startled you just now, please don't take it to heart. He's always been like that."
"It's fine, senpai… actually, he's pretty interesting."
Izumi covered her mouth with a soft smile.
Then her gaze fell to Itachi's shirt, and her eyes lit up. "Wow, what a cute shirt. I didn't expect you to wear something like that."
"This… is one of my uncle's old shirts from when he was younger." Itachi explained, a faint blush on his cheeks.
"Hey, what happened to your teeth? Did you pull one out, or are you hurt?"
Hearing the slight lisp in his voice, Izumi stepped closer, genuine concern in her expression.
"I… knocked it loose by accident," Itachi muttered, offering a flimsy excuse.
"Hehe." Izumi giggled; she had never seen this side of him before, her eyes curving into happy crescents.
After some small talk, they found themselves heading, almost without thinking, toward the small park in the Uchiha district.
As they walked, Itachi suddenly said:
"I'm sorry for last time. I shouldn't have spoken to you that way."
"No, it's me who caused trouble," Izumi waved her hands, apologizing in return.
Some weeks earlier, Itachi had asked her why she wanted to be a shinobi, telling her a girl like her shouldn't have to face the horrors of the ninja world. Izumi had been angered, explaining she wanted to follow her late father's path—and had even gathered the courage to say she wanted to walk the same road as the one she liked.
It had been a confession.
But Itachi had given no reply.
Izumi left in tears, and they had parted on bad terms. Now, at last, the distance between them was closing again.
"Oh—by the way, I became a genin."
Izumi smiled and tapped her new forehead protector, before pouting. "But it's so boring. My missions are just helping the daimyō's wife with her pet cat, or moving furniture for officials in the Land of Fire."
"That's how missions start for all shinobi," Itachi replied.
Hearing she was doing only safe, low-risk jobs, he felt a quiet relief inside.
They chatted and laughed, and Itachi couldn't help but feel Izumi's warmth and gentleness—it reminded him of his mother, Uchiha Mikoto.
But when the topic shifted to him joining Anbu, Izumi's face clouded. She admitted she was afraid—afraid he'd drift farther and farther from her.
Her emotions overflowed, and she suddenly leaned into his chest, sobbing softly.
Itachi, unsure what to say, simply placed his arms around her and let her cry until her breathing slowed.
"I'm not going anywhere," he said quietly.
…Probably, he added in his mind.
Looking up, he saw the moon break free from the clouds, its light washing over his face.
Lately, people like his uncle and Izumi had broken into his life—like moonlight piercing through darkness, stirring ripples in a heart he thought was still.
Meanwhile, Duan strolled casually through the village, returning to the alley near his gym.
Hm?
He felt it—several sharp, needle-like gazes from the shadows, lingering for a moment before retreating.
So, they're making a move already? Looks like old Danzō is furious.
Without glancing back, he opened the gym door as though he hadn't noticed.
"Tomorrow, I'm leaving the village for a while—some errands to run. You've got a few days off. Rest well."
He told Samui directly.
"Alright, thanks, curator."
She smiled politely, hiding her curiosity. Was he going out to earn more money again? She had learned enough to guess he wasn't just a trainer—his strength, and the way he handled things, hinted at bounty-hunting work.
Outside, hidden Root operatives caught every word.
"Perfect. We'll tail Uchiha when he leaves the village tomorrow—find a quiet place to take him."
They exchanged nods, the plan set.
The night passed.
Before dawn the next day, the streets of Konoha were nearly empty as Duan, cloaked in black with a straw hat concealing his face, slipped quietly beyond the gates.
Two hours later—
Itachi, free for the day, had sent Sasuke to the Academy and headed to the gym early, uneasy about Root making a move on his uncle.
But the alley was oddly quiet—those hidden presences were gone.
The gym was closed. Samui, in gloves, was cleaning the windows.
"Itachi, you're early today," she said. "The curator left this morning. He said you can come and go, use the equipment whenever you like."
"When exactly did he leave?" Itachi asked sharply.
"This morning… why? What's wrong?"
"It's nothing."
Not wanting to alarm her, he changed the subject. "Are you free this afternoon? My mother wants to go shopping with you."
With that, he turned and headed straight for Root's base.
Ten minutes later—
At the underground entrance, two masked operatives blocked him.
"Stop."
Itachi's eyes spun into the Sharingan.
Clash—clang—!
After the brief flurry of steel, both guards collapsed unconscious.
Stepping over them, he strode in and confronted Danzō directly.
"Lord Danzō, please don't target my uncle."
Itachi's feelings toward Duan were complicated—but family was family, and being in Root's sights meant mortal danger.
"Itachi… you're too late," Danzō said coldly, leaning on his cane. "By now, Uchiha Duan is already dead."