Break illusion with illusion.
The solution was simple, brutal, and effective.
Naruto's fist drove toward Itachi while the older Uchiha stood watching Sasuke writhe in Tsukuyomi's torment, expression twisted with cruel amusement. Itachi's hand extended slowly toward Sasuke's face.
Toward his eyes.
Become part of me, Itachi had said moments ago. Now he moved to make it reality.
Itachi's fingers stopped half a centimeter from Sasuke's Sharingan.
A voice roared—familiar, Naruto's voice—and Itachi's entire being shook. The Tsukuyomi world trembled, cracks spreading through the carefully constructed illusion like fractures in glass.
Itachi's eyes widened. He looked up.
Naruto stood beside Sasuke, having appeared from nowhere. He'd pulled Sasuke back three steps and was already launching a devastating punch.
The fist came wreathed in darkness, black as ink, impossibly deep. In Itachi's vision, the darkness formed a vortex that spun faster and faster, generating strange tearing force that pulled at his consciousness, dragging him toward that abyssal spiral.
"Kh—khhhh—"
Itachi's Mangekyō Sharingan flared desperately. With a sound like breaking glass—crack—he deliberately dispersed Tsukuyomi, needing his full mental capacity to resist Naruto's technique.
Opening the Netherworld.
Despite his struggles, Itachi felt his spirit being drawn inexorably into the luminous vortex. Bit by bit, pulled like a man drowning in quicksand. His body collapsed to its knees as his consciousness got yanked into the hell of his own heart.
This wasn't a hell constructed by Naruto. This was Itachi's own creation, built from his deepest fears, populated by his worst nightmares. The ultimate test of spirit.
With Tsukuyomi forcibly dispersed, Sasuke's consciousness slowly surfaced. The illusion of the Uchiha massacre faded from his mind's depths, but his face still showed the aftermath—veins bulging, muscles corded with tension, features twisted in residual agony.
This kind of pain couldn't be overcome quickly.
Naruto observed Itachi constructing his own personal abyss. As the technique's caster, he could see the victim's state clearly—just like when he'd used this punch on Orochimaru, revealing a nightmare world filled with insects. Orochimaru had nearly suffered complete mental collapse upon waking.
Naruto helped Sasuke settle onto the grass, making him comfortable. Then he turned his full attention to watching Itachi's inner world of fear unfold.
What does someone like Itachi fear? Naruto wondered with genuine curiosity. Someone cold-blooded enough to kill his own parents and entire clan for personal power—what could possibly frighten a person like that?
In Naruto's 'vision,' Itachi drifted through darkness, consciousness hazy and unfocused. Gradually the darkness receded. The world's outline took shape around him.
Itachi's eyes opened slowly, awareness returning.
"Where... is this?"
He couldn't see the forming environment yet. Standing up, feeling solid ground beneath his feet, he tried to orient himself. The memory of Naruto's punch hadn't registered—he didn't realize he was trapped in his own constructed hell.
The world solidified.
"This is... the Uchiha compound?"
Itachi found himself standing just outside the clan's residential district, one step away from entering the place where generations of Uchiha had lived.
"The Uchiha compound?" Naruto murmured, watching. "Is there something here Itachi can't face?"
He continued observing.
The sun hung low on the horizon, painting everything in gentle gold. The compound looked peaceful, serene, alive with the sound of children's laughter drifting from within.
Looking at this tranquil scene, Naruto clearly saw satisfaction spread across Itachi's face. A smile, genuine and warm.
Why is he smiling? Naruto puzzled over it. That expression—so innocent, so pure. It doesn't fit someone cold-blooded and ruthless at all.
Naruto kept watching.
With that faint smile still on his face, Itachi walked into the compound proper. Immediately, a group of children playing tag nearly crashed into him. One boy wearing a blindfold—playing the eagle in their game—grabbed Itachi with both hands.
"Got you! I caught someone!" the child announced triumphantly.
"You didn't catch us—you caught Brother Itachi!" The other children dissolved into giggles.
"Brother Itachi?" The blindfolded boy pulled off his covering, saw who he'd grabbed, and his face lit up. "Brother Itachi! You're back from your mission?"
"Mm." Looking at the five or six-year-old Uchiha child, something shifted in Itachi's expression. Affection, pure and undiluted, softened his features. He reached out to touch the boy's chubby cheek—
"Brother Itachi... why did you kill me?"
Blood suddenly poured from the corner of the child's mouth. His voice went harsh, accusing.
Itachi's smile froze.
He looked down. The hand he'd extended to pat the boy's cheek had somehow plunged a kunai through the child's chest instead. Blood seeped out around the wound.
"I don't want to kill you!" Panic consumed Itachi's face, but his hands moved independently of his will. The kunai withdrew and struck again, this time piercing the boy's throat.
Dark red blood splattered across Itachi's face.
"I don't want to! I don't want to do this! But I can't control myself—" Itachi's expression contorted like he was wrestling with demons. He released the dead Uchiha child and stumbled toward another group of playing children, kunai dripping crimson in both hands.
"Brother Itachi killed Shinji! Brother Itachi's killing people! Run!"
The other children saw him approaching like an incarnation of death and scattered in terror.
But how could they escape a jōnin? Itachi caught each child one by one. Each fell beneath his kunai. Young lives that had been laughing and playing moments before now lay collapsed in spreading pools of blood.
Blood covered Itachi completely—his clothes, his hands, his face. Gripping kunai in both trembling fists, he collapsed to his knees and screamed.
"Don't make me kill them! They're just children! They're innocent!"
The cry came out raw and broken, utterly powerless.
Naruto watched this unfold, then shifted his attention back to the physical world. Itachi knelt on the ground, his spirit trapped in the nightmare. Pain and helplessness twisted his real features into an agonized mask.
"The Uchiha massacre is what Itachi fears most," Naruto said softly, thinking aloud. "Which means... deep in his heart, he never wanted to slaughter his clan at all."
He studied Itachi's suffering face.
"Everything he said to Sasuke—about killing for power, for eternal light, all of it—was fake."
"Since it's all lies, there's only one possibility."
Naruto's eyes hardened with certainty.
"Itachi. You're lying."