Akasajin's world fractured the moment Itachi activated his Mangekyō Sharingan.
Within the distorted realm of Tsukuyomi, Akasajin found himself trapped—immobile, his surroundings warped into a surreal dreamscape under Itachi's complete control.
"It's my first time using this," Itachi remarked calmly, holding a strange, black weapon unlike any ninjutsu tool Akasajin had ever seen. His voice was composed, curious, even vaguely amused—not malicious.
Bang, bang, bang.
Holes opened in the earth. Akasajin's fear grew as he struggled to understand what was real.
"Bang. You're dead," Itachi said softly, more like a director than an executioner—experimenting, not tormenting for its own sake.
Though the injuries Akasajin felt were only illusions, the psychological toll was very real. Pain, fear, and confusion mingled with the eerie calmness of his captor.
To Itachi, this was a test—not just of strength, but of the mind. He transformed the illusion to suit a modern sense of psychological warfare: shifting outfits, conjuring a throne, even posing philosophical questions like "One thousand minus seven?" with unnerving seriousness.
When Akasajin refused to cooperate, Itachi escalated the scenario—changing the visuals, manifesting armored versions of himself, and quietly pushing Akasajin's endurance. His tone never turned cruel; instead, it remained composed, sometimes even introspective.
But Akasajin broke. The endless calculations, the bizarre props, and the emotional disorientation finally overwhelmed him.
Itachi rubbed his chin, mildly disappointed.
He's gone numb. That was fast.
No new ideas came to mind. The creative spark had flickered out, at least for now.
With a sigh, he stood up.
Maybe it was time to find something else to do. After all, seventy-two hours was a long time.
And really, watching content not suitable for children might damage his refined soul.
The scene shifted. Suddenly, the world around him brightened, the sun beaming down from a clear sky.
Itachi frowned.
He had returned to reality, the godlike control of Tsukuyomi gone, and with it, the sensation of omnipotence that had coursed through his body. His left eye throbbed with fatigue—like he'd just binged dozens of action movies nonstop. Everything was hazy through that eye, a sharp contrast to the clarity of his right.
The imbalance made his vision feel... psychedelic.
He glanced down at Akasajin, still unconscious on the ground. With a shake of his head, Itachi tried to dispel the discomfort—but it lingered.
Not waiting any longer, Itachi pulled two kunai from his pouch and hurled them at Akasajin.
His sword—left stuck in the dirt during his lunch—had gone unused. When he'd sensed the enemy in the trees, he hadn't bothered drawing it. He'd simply acted.
The kunai landed without resistance. No last-minute counterattack. No surprise jutsu. Itachi's first use of Tsukuyomi had successfully broken his enemy's spirit.
That thought improved his mood.
After a few seconds of silence, he walked forward with light, easy steps—relaxed and confident.
He bent down, withdrew the bloodied kunai, wiped it clean on Akasajin's clothes, and slid it back into his bag.
Now came the best part: gathering gmoney and supplies.
"One thousand ryo, seven kunai?" he muttered, sorting the loot aloud.
Then he paused, his brow furrowing.
The world suddenly felt off. Still. Too still.
A cold gust brushed his skin, and he shivered involuntarily.
Without thinking, he dropped the money and kunai.
"Ugh, what the hell? Creepy…"
A flash—and Itachi reappeared high in the trees, bathed in sunlight like a monk seeking salvation.
"Oh great Amaterasu, protect me…"
He began muttering random spiritual phrases under his breath, hoping to shake the eerie feeling.
But something still felt wrong. Unsettled.
Deciding the world itself might be untrustworthy right now, he bolted through the trees at top speed, whispering:
"Juzo's the one who killed you! Don't come for me…"
He even pointed down dramatically at Juzo, who was sleeping peacefully against a tree.
A shadow clone nearby gave him a strange look.
Embarrassed, Itachi's face reddened slightly. With a snap, he dispelled the clone—erasing the evidence of his panic.
Still shaken, he stayed in the treetops, basking silently in the sunlight like a cat avoiding a haunted hallway.
Yes—Itachi Uchiha, prodigy of the Leaf, had one fatal weakness:
He was terrified of ghosts.
Juzo's nap lasted far longer than expected.
The sun Itachi had come to rely on was sinking, and the last golden rays began slipping below the horizon.
With a sigh, Itachi gathered some branches, performed the Fireball Jutsu, and lit a fire.
Unusually, he sat right beside Juzo—less than twenty centimeters away.
Normally, he'd have kept at least a meter's distance.
But tonight? He needed the warmth.
Night deepened, and fatigue set in. To be safe, Itachi summoned four shadow clones and positioned them around him like silent guardians before drifting into a light sleep.
Juzo eventually stirred, sensing a strange atmosphere.
Blinking awake, he found four versions of Itachi seated by the fire, deep in discussion.
Their topic?
Urban legends and other ghost stories.
One clone snoozed against a tree, completely relaxed.
Juzo listened quietly, piecing the conversation together. The clones were so engrossed they didn't notice their audience.
He smirked.
Then, as they were talking about curses and vengeful spirits, Juzo leaned in with a twisted grin and whispered:
"Are you talking about me…?"
"AH! WHAT THE—?!"
All four clones jumped in terror.
After wandering around in a daze for a while, Juzo eventually found a tree in the distance and relieved himself, whistling cheerfully as he did.
Meanwhile, Itachi was busy scolding his shadow clones.
The scream from earlier had, of course, snapped him out of his light sleep. He hadn't expected the very clone he summoned for protection to be this… useless.
Honestly, it was even less reliable than the ones Naruto used to fight over bathroom breaks.
By the time Juzo returned, Itachi had already dismissed the shadow clones.
Reflecting on the ridiculous scene of four clones swapping ghost stories around a campfire, his fear of the supernatural had mostly faded. It wasn't true fear anyway—just an instinctive reverence for the unknown.
"You sure use those shadow clones creatively, kid," Juzo said with a smirk, still clearly amused after his bathroom break.
"Want me to teach you how to make one? Just call me big brother Juzo."
Itachi didn't even blink. "Pass."
"Ugh…" Juzo choked on his own words, left speechless by Itachi's deadpan rejection.
'This brat's getting more and more arrogant…' he grumbled internally, annoyed but helpless. No clever retort came to mind, so he just muttered to himself.
Itachi, on the other hand, looked a little disappointed. He genuinely wanted to teach Juzo some life-saving jutsu. The guy was his assigned guard, after all. But apparently, Juzo was too thin-skinned to accept the offer.
Still, considering he once used the Executioner's Blade to block a Tailed Beast Bomb, maybe shadow clones wouldn't make much difference for someone like him.
After exchanging a few more words, Itachi's eyes began to droop again. Seeing this, Juzo didn't push to continue their journey. Instead, he quietly added more branches to the fire and kept watch for the night.
When Itachi awoke, dawn had already broken.
Juzo sat nearby, clearly bored, carving into a piece of wood with a kunai.
"You're up," he said casually, not even looking over as he placed the unfinished carving in his cloak.
The tone in his voice was flat—like a professional assassin with no feelings.
"Yeah, I'm up. Another day gone," Itachi replied softly, conjuring a small water orb to wash his face.
"If we keep this pace, we'll be back with the organization by tonight," Juzo noted. "Anywhere you want to stop and have some fun before that?"
Although they'd been dragging their feet on the way back, their pace coming here wasn't much better. Their little break from responsibility was coming to an end.
"I don't really have anywhere I want to go. Sounds boring."
Itachi clearly wasn't a fan of Juzo's attempt to slack off and bring him along.
"This area's not too far from Konoha," Juzo offered, testing the waters. "Want to swing by for a visit?"
Itachi gave him a dry look.
"Nice try. I do know how to read the map."
There was no way Itachi was falling for that. Konoha was definitely farther than the place he was showing. Even if he went, there wasn't anything he could do there. It would be meaningless.
"…I figured," Juzo sighed, sounding almost disappointed.
Truth be told, he didn't want to go back either. But he hadn't come up with a solid excuse yet.
'If I'd managed to trick Itachi, I could've used him as my excuse…' he thought glumly.
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