Why would Itachi lie to Sasuke?
The question burned in Naruto's mind as he watched the nightmare unfold. After seeing Itachi's performance in the fear-world, observing his resistance and anguish, one truth became clear: Itachi had never wanted to slaughter his clan.
Which means he had a reason. Something forced his hand.
What that reason was, Naruto didn't know. The answer existed only in Itachi's heart.
In the nightmare world, Itachi knelt amid the carnage, staring at a small Uchiha boy lying in spreading crimson.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, voice breaking. "I didn't want to... I never wanted..."
A scream shattered the moment.
An Uchiha woman emerged from a nearby house, drawn by the sounds of violence. Her eyes swept across the scene—more than a dozen children lying motionless, blood pooling beneath small bodies. And in the center, Uchiha Itachi, covered in gore, kunai dripping in his trembling hands.
The evidence was undeniable.
"UCHIHA ITACHI!" The woman's shriek carried raw grief and fury.
At the sound of his name, Itachi's expression shifted. The anguish vanished, replaced by a cruel smirk. He stood slowly, kunai still wet with blood, and staggered toward the woman with mechanical precision.
He closed the distance. Raised the blade. Prepared to strike—
"No! Don't kill her!" Itachi's internal voice screamed, fighting desperately against his own body. "Please, stop!"
Maybe his resistance finally reached the body controlling him. The kunai froze mid-thrust.
Itachi gasped for breath, sweat pouring down his face.
"Uchiha Itachi." A new voice spoke from behind the woman, smooth and mocking. "Are you certain you won't kill her? Because if you don't, the person you chose to save will die instead. Are you going to betray your own decision?"
A figure stepped from behind the woman. Itachi's head snapped up.
The newcomer wore his face. His clothes. His Sharingan. In every detail, perfect duplication.
Another Uchiha Itachi.
The doppelganger smiled with sinister pleasure. "Are you sure you won't kill her, Itachi? If she lives... he can't. It's that simple."
The words wormed into Itachi's ears like poison, seducing the darkness within. "I... I can't..."
Sweat drenched Itachi's entire body. He couldn't form a coherent response.
How could he refute his other self? This was the choice he'd made—protect his most precious brother at any cost. If the clan survived, Sasuke would die.
His dearest brother.
His dearest clansmen.
Both impossible to save.
"Itachi," the doppelganger pressed, "are you really going to betray your choice now?"
Silence. The kunai remained frozen, half a centimeter from the woman's throat.
"HAHAHA!" The false Itachi threw his head back, laughing until he doubled over. When the mirth finally subsided, he straightened and sneered. "You know what the real problem is? You're too weak. If you were strong enough, you could simply destroy the ones forcing you to choose in the first place."
"But no. You're pathetic. You made a choice, and now you're trying to have it both ways. Only the weak do something so disgraceful."
"You're cowardly. Hesitant. So let me help." The doppelganger's smile turned demonic. "Don't worry—I'll make the choice your heart truly wants."
"Kill everyone. Protect one person. HAHAHA!"
That terrible laughter echoed through Itachi's skull.
"If you can't do it, then I will!" The false Itachi ripped the kunai from Itachi's frozen grip and drove it through the woman's throat in one smooth motion.
Blood sprayed across Itachi's face.
He didn't move. Didn't react.
The scales had tipped. The choice was made.
Let me bear this burden, Itachi thought distantly. Even if it means sinking into hell for eternity. Even if I never reach the Pure Land.
That was his final coherent thought before numbness consumed everything.
He watched—detached, hollow—as the other Itachi moved through the compound like an avatar of death. Cutting down clan members without hesitation. Blood painting the streets.
Itachi didn't try to stop it.
Because he understood now. That other Itachi was him. The part that had obeyed his heart's impossible choice.
The blade found Uchiha Fugaku last. As the kunai pierced his father's chest, Fugaku's eyes held no anger. Only sad understanding.
"Itachi," he rasped with his final breath, "this is your choice. I'm proud of you. I hope... you won't regret it."
Uchiha Mikoto had already fallen.
The nightmare created by Opening the Netherworld ended there.
Itachi's spirit crashed back into his physical body, but consciousness didn't follow immediately. His face remained twisted in residual agony, mind still trapped in the echoes of what he'd seen.
Naruto observed him and sighed internally.
So that's the truth. Killing the Uchiha clan is Itachi's deepest fear—the thing he can't face. And from that conversation with himself, someone forced an impossible choice: the clan or one person.
The identity of that person was obvious.
Sasuke.
Itachi had chosen to slaughter his parents and clan so his little brother could live.
That choice had become his nightmare.
Everything he said to Sasuke earlier was a lie. His entire cruel persona—all performance. He loves Sasuke more than anything. But as the butcher of the Uchiha clan, he has no right to ask for forgiveness.
How could he? He made everyone's choice for them, decided their fates without asking. And now he maintains this act because he can't face the alternative.
"Naruto..."
The whisper pulled Naruto's attention from Itachi. Sasuke had spoken his name.
Naruto immediately moved to his friend's side. "Sasuke, are you okay?"
Though pain still etched Sasuke's features, awareness had returned to his eyes. He shook his head. "I'm fine. Itachi's technique can't kill me. If I don't kill him first, I definitely won't die."
The words came out with absolute conviction.
Sasuke's gaze found Itachi, sitting motionless several meters away, hair obscuring his face.
"Itachi." Hatred reignited in Sasuke's voice. "I'm going to kill you."
He grabbed the Kusanagi sword, dragged himself upright despite lingering pain, and stumbled toward his brother. The blade rose, preparing to pierce Itachi's chest.
One centimeter away, Itachi finally looked up.
Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. His eyes found the gleaming blade poised at his heart. Something softened in his expression—tenderness breaking through exhaustion.
"Little brother," he whispered. "Kill me."
"What did you just call me?" Fury exploded through Sasuke. The sword drove forward, breaking skin.
Pain crossed Itachi's face, but he forced his right hand up with desperate strength. His fingers closed around the blade. Blood ran immediately from his palm, dripping down the steel.
He met Sasuke's eyes with terrible intensity. "Little brother. Please kill me."
"Don't call me that!" Sasuke's voice cracked. "You don't deserve it!"
The brothers locked in that tableau—one pushing the blade deeper, the other gripping it despite the pain, both faces showing different kinds of agony.
Naruto had seen enough.
"Itachi." His voice cut through their struggle, calm and clear. "Do you regret it?"
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