Bury You in Konoha's Public Toilet

If someone held fast to their beliefs all their life, only to break them with their own hands, it would be an incomparably exhilarating thing.

It was like personally destroying a flawless work of art, shattering it beyond recognition until it no longer resembled what it had once been.

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Itachi was like a work of art forged from the Uchiha Clan's blood. If it could be completely smashed to pieces, it would surely be an experience more wonderful than any other for the Uchiha Clan.

But if this work of art merely grew rotten and filthy under the ravages of time, even beginning to crack on its own after a while—

Then breaking it would no longer feel exhilarating. Instead, it would leave one feeling far more disappointed.

Given a little more time, Uchiha Itachi might truly become a decaying work of art. Perhaps only before Sasuke could he bloom with his final beauty. The Third Hokage, who had truly shaped him into the person before them, would likely never see that beauty again.

Both Itachis felt that this sensation was utterly awful. One watched the treasure he wanted to smash become rotten, while the other watched himself rot away before his very eyes.

He had no choice but to take out a rag, along with cleaning and polishing agents, and pour them into his mind, forcing himself to feel and recall the village's beauty once more.

Yet no matter how he recalled it now, those memories were no longer beautiful or happy.

In his memories, studying at the Ninja Academy and joining the Anbu should have been tremendously joyful things.

Instead, the more he remembered, the more he recalled his happiness.

"Maybe in one year, maybe two, even solid wood will be completely corroded!"

Uchiha Itachi