Chapter 78: Not Just a Fruit — The Spirit of the Tree World
Itachi followed the crooked old man through the crowd, past the auction house, into a quiet corner behind the grand building. The old man stopped.
Around them, the usual Rakesh Callender mockery followed.
"That old fool again? Still talking about his 'test'?"
"What's the idiot next to him doing? Actually taking it seriously?"
"Gahahaha! Fools attract fools!"
Neither the old man nor Itachi paid any attention.
The old man settled onto the ground, his broken body folding into a seated position. Itachi sat across from him.
"Brother. Are you ready? The real test begins now."
"I'm ready." Itachi nodded. "But I must ask—what is this test?"
The old man raised three fingers, withered as dead branches.
"You will witness three scenes. After each, I will ask you a question. You will speak what you feel."
"I understand."
"Then... let us begin."
The old man extended his hand. A sudden aura enveloped them both.
The world spun.
Darkness swallowed everything.
When light returned, Itachi stood in a village street. Behind him—a familiar gate, a familiar courtyard.
Konoha.
The Uchiha compound.
His home.
"Nii-chan! Nii-chan!"
The voice from his deepest memories. He turned slowly.
Sasuke—small, satchel bouncing—ran toward the house.
Another Itachi stood in the yard, broom in hand. He set it aside, knelt, and caught Sasuke in his arms.
"How was school?"
"Good! Will you practice shuriken with me later?"
"Of course. I have the day off."
Memory-Itachi carried Sasuke toward the backyard.
Watching, Itachi's tears broke.
Time flowed. The warmth of family. The burden of being a double agent. Shisui's smile. The night of the massacre. Sasuke's hatred.
Akatsuki. Kisame's dry humor. Orochimaru's escape. The return to Konoha.
And finally—falling before Sasuke's eyes.
He woke.
Tears streamed down his face, dripping onto the dirt.
The old man's smile greeted him.
"Answer me. After reviewing your life—what did you find? What do you feel?"
Itachi bowed his head.
Long silence.
"Forgive me. I cannot judge my own life."
His voice was raw.
"There was right. There was wrong. Darkness and light intertwined. Whatever I think now... it already happened. The past is irreversible. Unchangeable. The me who made those choices is frozen there."
The old man absorbed this. Two fingers remained.
"Then let us continue. Now I will show you someone close to you. Share what you feel."
The world spun again.
When light returned, Itachi watched a small boy in a rowboat, waving farewell to villagers on a shore.
Luffy.
He watched the boy punch a sea monster. Drift in a barrel. Gather companions—Zoro, Nami, Usopp, Sanji. Enter the Grand Line. Drum Kingdom. Giants. Alabasta. Sky Island. Water Seven.
Sabaody. Separation. Reunion.
Then—Fishman Island. The Kraken. Himself joining the crew. Punk Hazard.
The vision ended with the Straw Hats fighting the Navy, with himself and Law separated from the Sunny.
Itachi opened his eyes.
The old man waited.
"What do you feel? What do you wish to say?"
Itachi was silent.
Then: "Companionship. The power that unites all we meet."
The old man nodded. One finger remained.
"One last vision."
The world spun one final time.
This time—Itachi was above.
Above clouds. Above seas. Above the entire world.
Centuries of history unfolded beneath him. Kingdoms rose and fell. The World Government formed. The Pirate Era began. Wars raged. Heroes and tyrants shaped the ages.
And through it all—suffering. Endless, grinding suffering. The ugly faces of rulers. The brutality of those called heroes.
Itachi saw it all in an instant—and in a lifetime.
He woke.
The old man's fingers were closed.
"After seeing this... what do you think?"
Itachi answered without hesitation.
"This world requires a force capable of absolute dominion."
The old man's smile froze.
The light in his eyes dimmed.
Around them, pirates and armored troops who had approached during the visions collapsed unconscious.
A long silence stretched.
Then the old man spoke again, voice hollow.
"Is there anything you wish to add?"
Itachi exhaled.
"The power to unify the world must build a world of peace. Of love. A world where every person can live with kindness."
His voice hardened.
"Otherwise, no matter how absolute the force, it will eventually be overthrown."
The old man had been preparing to rise.
He froze.
His legs gave way. He crumpled to the ground, staring at Itachi with an expression that had not crossed his face in fifty years.
"Old man!" Itachi reached to help him.
The old man shoved himself upright—and kneeled.
"Old man—"
"UCHIHA ITACHI!"
Itachi recoiled. How does he know my name?
"I have witnessed your past. I understand your vision of the future."
The old man's voice cracked.
"First—I must apologize. To one who carried endless darkness alone, who bore everything upon his own shoulders and walked forward in solitude—I am sorry."
He raised his head.
"Now you must carry another fate. A heavier burden."
"What do you mean?" Itachi shook his head. "I don't understand."
The old man ignored his confusion. His black eyes had begun to gleam—like jewels waking from centuries of darkness.
"You passed my test. What is yours will soon be yours."
He shook his head vigorously.
"No—let me correct myself. What you call the Root Fruit... its true name is something else. It is not a Devil Fruit at all."
He met Itachi's eyes.
"We have called it the Spirit of the Tree World."
"The Spirit of the Tree World?"
Before Itachi could ask more, the old man launched into the sky.
Itachi stared. This broken body... can move like this?!
The old man's black-gem eyes fixed on the Morel Black Tower. His hand rose—and black-red Haki coiled around his withered arm like lightning seeking ground.
He swung.
The Haki flew—a blade of pure will—and struck the invincible tower.
The Morel Black Tower, which no weapon had ever marked, which had stood fifty years undamaged—
Split in half.
Stone and metal screamed as the two halves separated, crashing into the streets below.
The entire island froze.
Everyone—gang members, merchants, pirates, residents—stared at the impossible sight.
The old man descended slowly, his body trembling from the effort, his black eyes fixed on Itachi.
"The Spirit of the Tree World... is not a fruit to be eaten." His voice carried across the sudden silence. "It is a legacy. A burden. A power that does not simply give—it demands."
He placed a hand on his own chest.
"I was its last keeper. For fifty years, I waited for someone worthy."
His cracked lips formed a smile.
"You are the first to pass the test. The first to see the visions and answer not with greed, not with ambition, not with despair—but with truth."
He reached into his tattered robe.
From within, he withdrew something small. Something glowing.
A seed.
But not an ordinary seed. It pulsed with light that seemed to come from somewhere else—somewhere ancient, somewhere deep, somewhere that remembered when the world was young and the trees were kings.
"The Spirit of the Tree World," the old man whispered. "Take it. Plant it. Let it grow where your roots will hold."
He pressed the seed into Itachi's palm.
It warmed against his skin. Thrummed with life.
"It will become whatever you need it to become. But only if you remain who you are."
The old man's eyes began to dim again, the jewel-light fading.
"Now... before I have no strength left... go. Your friends will be looking for you."
He pointed toward the chaos where the tower had fallen.
"And Itachi—"
The old man's voice was barely a whisper.
"Your answer to the third vision... that was the right one. The only right one."
His hand dropped.
He slumped against the wall, still smiling, and closed his eyes.
(End of Chapter)
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