How Tragic a Clan

"Itachi, your eyes..."

Arima looked worriedly at Itachi, whose expression had suddenly changed as a terrifying aura radiated from him.

Those two trails of bloody tears made it clear that Itachi was suffering terrible pain.

Hearing Arima's words, Itachi slowly drew a kunai. Through its reflective surface, he clearly saw his eyes as they were now.

The three black tomoe had fused into one, forming the shape of a Three-Bladed Fūma Shuriken.

Itachi finally understood the words Shisui had once told him: I hope you never awaken the Mangekyō Sharingan...

Regret, sorrow, pain...

All those emotions transformed into a dreadful, ominous aura that poured wildly from Itachi Uchiha.

"Are you all right, Itachi?"

Arima asked with concern. To be honest, after spending so many days together, he had never seen such a terrifying aura emanate from Itachi.

In his impression, Itachi had always been that gentle, kind boy who loved eating dango.

Once, there had also been such a boy in Itachi's heart.

But now, he was dead.

After a long while, Itachi finally opened his eyes again, and all traces of abnormality had vanished from them.

He gently stroked his eyes and looked at the lake before him, speaking as though answering Shisui beneath the moonlight that night. "Shisui, I will definitely fulfill your wish."

Then he stood and said to Arima, "Arima, the Uchiha Clan may become very dangerous from here on. You should not come here again."

"Is that so..."

Arima had also sensed that Konoha's atmosphere had become somewhat strange, but after spending so many days together, he had already come to regard Itachi as his companion.

"Itachi, if there is anything you need my help with, just tell me. I'll do my best."

Itachi gave Arima a faint smile, then gently shook his head. "My