The Established Reality

"Perhaps this was the price..." Uchiha Itachi suddenly felt that becoming like this in the future was no longer such a surprising thing. If the future of the clan and the village could become incomparably bright, then what became of him no longer seemed all that important.

Yet Sarada had no intention of letting him off, nor did she intend to let off his future self. She stepped forward, raised her leg again, extended her foot, and heavily stomped on future Uchiha Itachi's head.

After viciously stomping on him twice and grinding his face against the ground, leaving behind ugly streaks of blood, future Uchiha Itachi finally reacted differently. He raised his head.

There was a trace of dullness in his pitch-black eyes. The blood on his face had yet to dry, making him look less like a person than a moving corpse.

But after his gaze swept over the shoe that had just stepped on his head, a sharp gleam suddenly flared in those black eyes.

It was not that he had suddenly become more formidable. Rather, it was the change from a corpse back into a person, the return of life to his eyes.

He wanted to raise his head further and look at his niece, but Sarada's voice was exceptionally cold. "Lower your head. You're not qualified to look at me..."

Future Uchiha Itachi moved in a panic. He immediately lowered his head, not even daring to look at Sarada's shoes, though they were already dusty and her toes were speckled with grime.

Or rather, his manner had become utterly servile. Being able to speak to Sarada seemed to be an enormous gift bestowed upon him.

Uchiha Itachi swore that from the day he was born until now, he had never seen himself so joyful. The happiness