Sasuke's Seed of Desperate Defection! A Wisp of Obsession

On a protruding rock at the top of the cavern, Yuan had appeared at some point. He looked down from above at Sasuke, who was covered in blood, and in those scarlet Mangekyo Sharingan, there was not the slightest hint of approval, only undisguised contempt.

"Brother Yuan..." Sasuke instinctively tried to stand, but his legs went weak, and he dropped back to one knee.

Yuan leaped down from the rock, stepped over the corpses littering the ground, and walked up to Sasuke. He did not help him up. Instead, he stretched out a foot, hooked up the ninja blade that had belonged to the Root squad captain, and kicked it into the corner.

"You were too impulsive." Yuan's voice was cold to the extreme. "Your chakra is exhausted, your shoulder is pierced through. If I'd come one step later, any genin reinforcement could have twisted your head off. And in this sorry state, you still want to take revenge on Itachi?"

Those words struck the most painful scar in Sasuke's heart with pinpoint accuracy.

Sasuke's face instantly turned deathly pale. He snapped his head up, his blood-red Sharingan staring fixedly at Yuan, his voice hoarse with extreme unwillingness. "I won't wait forever for you to do everything for me! You kill people every day and trample every enemy underfoot. What about me? Am I only allowed to practice that damned kunai throwing on the academy training field!"

"The weak have no right to choose their battlefield." Yuan did not even lift his eyelids, his tone sharp as a blade. "Bandage your wound yourself. Get back to the compound."

With that, Yuan turned and walked straight toward the cavern exit, as if even one more glance at him would be a waste of time.

Sasuke knelt on the ground, gritting his teeth so hard they nearly cracked, his fingernails digging deep into the dirt. A humiliation he had never felt before, and an extreme thirst for power, grew wildly in the depths of his heart like poisonous weeds.

By the time he returned to the Old Uchiha Clan Compound, the sky had gone completely dark.

Sasuke dragged his heavy steps, clutching his still-bleeding shoulder, and walked into the clan compound's academy like a ghost. There were no children left in the academy, only a few dim oil lamps swaying in the wind.

Aunt Mihui was sitting by a wooden table, carefully wiping the wooden shuriken the children had ruined during training that day by the lamplight. Hearing footsteps, she raised her head.

When she saw the miserable sight of half of Sasuke's body dyed red with blood, Mihui immediately put down what she was holding. She did not scream in alarm. Years of life on the run had made her used to handling scenes like this.

"Sit down. Your wound... I'll treat it for you." Mihui walked to the medicine cabinet and skillfully took out disinfectant, bandages, and hemostatic forceps.

Leaning against the doorframe, Sasuke's eyes were somewhat hollow, and he resisted instinctively. "No need. I can do it myself."

Mihui ignored his stubbornness. She stepped forward and, without a word, pressed down on his uninjured right shoulder, forcing him into a chair. She picked up the scissors, cut straight through the blood-soaked clothes stuck to Sasuke's wound, and swiftly poured disinfectant over it.

"Hiss—" The intense stinging made Sasuke suck in a sharp breath.

"You're as stubborn as your brother." As Mihui used the hemostatic forceps to clean the barbs and debris from the wound, she spoke in a low voice.

Sasuke's body instantly went taut as if he had been shocked. He whipped his head around, not even caring about the severe pain in his shoulder, and stared hard into Mihui's eyes. "You knew my brother?"

In this village, mentioning the name "Itachi" was like touching some kind of taboo. Even Yuan disdained to bring up Itachi's past.

Mihui's hands paused slightly, and under the oil lamp, her gaze seemed a little distant, as if she had fallen into memories from long ago.

"I knew him when he was little." Mihui pressed a ball of hemostatic cotton onto the wound, her voice very soft. "When he came to the compound, you hadn't even been born yet. He was always sitting quietly on the stone steps in the corner, not talking, not smiling much either, just watching everyone train in the square."

Sasuke bit his lip tightly and said nothing.

"He was a very gentle child. More sensible than anyone, and more tired than anyone." Mihui sighed and wound the bandage tightly around the wound. "He wasn't the kind of cold-blooded monster you imagine."

"Gentle?" Sasuke suddenly let out an extremely shrill, cold laugh. He shoved Mihui's hand away and abruptly stood up. "He killed the whole clan! He stepped over our parents' corpses, then looked at me with those eyes from high above and told me I had no value worth killing! You call that gentle?!"

Mihui looked at Sasuke, who was on the verge of collapse, deep helplessness and pity in her eyes.

"He did what he thought was right. He thought that was the only way to protect you, to protect something greater." Mihui's voice did not rise or fall, only stated it calmly. "Just like you now, wanting to become stronger at all costs, even if you leave yourself covered in wounds. You are also doing what you think is right."

"I'm not like him!" Sasuke roared in fury, and the Sharingan in his eyes surfaced again beyond his control. "The reason I'm alive is to butcher him!"

"You two are exactly the same." Mihui tidied the bloody cotton balls on the table and no longer argued. "Both blinded by hatred, both walking a dead-end road you can never turn back from."

Sasuke stood frozen where he was, breathing heavily. Mihui's words were like a dull knife, slicing again and again at his fragile nerves. He did not want to listen anymore, and he suddenly turned and rushed out of the academy.

Late night. A pale crescent moon hung above the Old Uchiha Clan Compound.

Sasuke sat alone on the roof of his room, letting the night wind blow over his freshly bandaged wound. He looked at the dark outline of Hokage Rock in the distance, and everything that had happened these past few days replayed endlessly in his mind.

Yuan's violently invincible back, Danzo's undying Izanagi, Mihui's words about Itachi—"you two are exactly the same"... all of it provoked his heart, which craved power to the extreme.

The Hidden Leaf Village was too peaceful. Even now, with so much waiting to be rebuilt, it could not give him the kind of extreme tempering that skirted the edge of life and death. At Yuan's side, he would forever only be treated as a weak burden.

And there was also the curse mark Orochimaru had bitten into his neck. At this moment, it seemed to sense the host's extreme longing and began to throb. Orochimaru's cold, hoarse voice seemed to echo by his ear: "Come find me, Sasuke... I can give you power that surpasses everything..."

Sasuke slowly closed his eyes. When he opened them again, all that remained in his double-tomoe Sharingan was the purest resolve and coldness.

He had to leave this place. He had to search for the power that could truly let him kill Itachi.

Even if it meant selling his soul to the devil, he would not hesitate.

The night was deep. The small lamp in Sasuke's room quietly went out. A half-written letter, its handwriting somewhat messy, was pinned silently to the wooden table by a kunai.

A gust of wind blew in through the gap of the window that had not been closed properly, and one corner of the letter fluttered slightly.

Written on it were the words: "I'm leaving. When I'm strong enough, I'll come back and kill you."