Chapter 38 – Brothers in the Shadow
The air around the small dango shop was thick with tension. Jiraiya's sharp eyes had already caught the familiar silhouettes — the red clouds on black cloaks, the conical straw hats, the measured steps of men who carried no fear. His instincts screamed danger, but before he could act, two pairs of eyes burned with emotions far heavier than his own concern.
Itachi Uchiha.
Kisame Hoshigaki.
The Akatsuki had come.
Sasuke's hand trembled, though not from fear. The sight of his brother standing so casually, as though the weight of genocide and betrayal were nothing, pulled a storm through his chest. His Sharingan spun to life instantly, and for a moment he almost forgot to breathe.
Naruto stood beside him, his expression unreadable. His eyes flickered briefly to Sasuke — he could sense the storm brewing in his friend's heart.
Itachi's gaze, calm and distant as ever, settled on Sasuke. He spoke with that cold detachment that had once cut deeper than any blade:
"So… you're still chasing hate."
The words stabbed at Sasuke. His teeth clenched, rage rising, but beneath it an ache spread — because he knew. He knew this brother had walked into hell willingly, shouldered a sin that wasn't his, and carried the weight of a clan's downfall alone. Yet here Sasuke was, forced to play a role he despised.
"Why is it… brother…" Sasuke's voice cracked, though he masked it with a growl, "…why does your face still haunt me, even when I swore to bury you in my hate?!"
Itachi's eyes narrowed. He heard it. Something in Sasuke's voice was wrong — too heavy, too layered. Not the pure hatred he expected. But he didn't falter.
"Hatred is the only bond left between us, Sasuke. Don't deceive yourself."
Sasuke's chest tightened. No… not hatred. Not anymore. He wanted to scream the truth, to tell Itachi he knew, that he forgave him, that he hated Konoha's politics, not him. But Zetsu… always watching, always listening. The truth couldn't be revealed now.
So he raised his blade, lightning chakra screaming to life, and rushed forward.
The ground cracked beneath their clash. Katon met Katon, genjutsu laced every gaze, and the shop's remains scattered in fire and ash. Each blow Sasuke struck carried the weight of sorrow disguised as vengeance. Each block from Itachi carried restraint so delicate it seemed effortless.
Their fight wasn't just steel and chakra — it was a battlefield of unspoken truths.
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Meanwhile, Kisame had already drawn Samehada, grinning as his shark-like eyes met Naruto's.
"Lucky me… I get the jinchūriki."
Naruto's expression didn't change. He stepped forward, hands forming a seal — not of aggression, but of finality.
"You talk too much," Naruto muttered.
Chains of pure crimson chakra erupted from his back — thick, glowing, alive with Uzumaki sealing power. They whipped through the air like serpents, encircling Kisame before he could even swing his blade.
"What—?! Sealing jutsu?!" Kisame roared, struggling as the chains wrapped tighter, each link burning against his chakra flow.
Naruto's eyes hardened. "I won't waste time fighting you. You're dangerous… so I'll seal you."
The chains pulsed, slamming Kisame to the ground. Seal patterns bloomed beneath them, ancient and terrifying in power, just like Kushina's chains once had. Kisame thrashed, Samehada shrieking in protest, but the chains only drew tighter, dragging him toward a binding circle.
Jiraiya's eyes widened. Those chains… He remembered them. Kushina. Mito Uzumaki. The power to restrain even tailed beasts. Naruto wielded them as if it were natural.
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Back at the brothers' battlefield, fire jutsu scorched the air and lightning ripped the earth apart. Sasuke's Sharingan whirled furiously, his blade crackling with chidori stream. Yet, for all his strength, Itachi's calm never wavered.
At one point, Sasuke's voice broke through the clash, trembling, raw:
"Why… why do you still stand there like none of it matters?! You tore everything away — and yet…" his blade shook mid-swing, "…yet I can't kill you without my own chest tearing apart!"
Itachi's hand froze for a fraction of a second. His mask almost cracked.
But then he whispered, soft enough only Sasuke could hear:
"…You've grown, little brother."
Sasuke's eyes widened. That voice… that warmth beneath the cold facade. It made his throat burn, his rage collapse inward. He forced his blade to move again, forced the mask of hate back onto his face, because he had to. Because the world was watching.
The two clashed once more, fire against lightning, sorrow against silence.
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Jiraiya stood at a distance, torn. He wanted to intervene, to stop them, but something in both boys' chakra told him this wasn't his battle to end. Still, unease clawed at him — Naruto's sealing jutsu, Sasuke's strange sorrow, the way their powers felt beyond their years.
Nothing about this was normal.
And in the shadows, unseen but present, something slithered. Black Zetsu's voice echoed faintly, unheard by them:
"…Interesting. Very interesting…"
The stage was set.
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End of Chapter 38
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