First kill

In the blink of an eye, the sun sank westward, its fading glow staining Konoha's streets and alleys red.

Classes at the Ninja Academy were finally over, and Zongyan walked home alone along the street.

The evening breeze blew gently, dispersing the heat that had built up during the day. Wisps of cooking smoke rose from roadside chimneys, and the whole street looked quite peaceful.

But Zongyan knew perfectly well that what had happened that day would not be so easily put behind him.

He had just turned into a quiet side street when a figure blocked his path.

Black clothes, a black mask, and no identifying marks anywhere. The figure was wrapped tightly from head to toe, with only a pair of cold eyes exposed, pinning him like two nails.

Zongyan stopped. Looking at the outfit before him, he sighed inwardly:

...Isn't Danzo a little too efficient? I only kicked his man this morning, and he's already come looking for me this afternoon?

The Root ninja stood rigidly, his voice as inhuman as a machine reading a script:

"Uchiha Zongyan, Lord Danzo requests your presence."

As though he had not heard, Zongyan stepped around him and continued forward:

"Danzo, Danz-whatever, never heard of him. My family told me not to go with strangers."

He had expected this, but that did not mean he had to cooperate obediently.

The moment he finished speaking, three identical black figures darted out of the shadows on either side and behind him. The four formed a ring around him, cutting off every possible route.

Zongyan glanced around and spoke unhurriedly:

"Oh, so when an invitation doesn't work, you switch to abduction? Lord Danzo certainly knows how to make a grand impression."

"I've heard about Root's rotten reputation for ages. Seeing you today, you stink even worse than the rumors."

The four Root ninja were like wooden figures. Their masks did not move, and they barely even blinked.

Their leader spoke again, still in that utterly emotionless tone:

"Lord Danzo requests your presence. Please come with us."

"You want to take me away?"

Zongyan gave a low chuckle, without a trace of warmth.

As his words fell, his right hand shot toward his waist. He drew a kunai cleanly, its cold edge flashing as his fingers closed firmly around the handle.

He lowered his stance, dipped his wrist slightly, and touched his toes to the ground, assuming the opening stance of the Uchiha Clan's inherited swordsmanship.

"I don't want to go."

What sort of place was Root?

The dirtiest, darkest corner of Konoha, hidden from the light. Danzo's private torture chamber. How many people came out alive after going in?

At best, they would search his mind, interrogate him, brainwash him, and control him. At worst, not even a scrap would remain.

If a six-year-old child like him really got dragged inside, how would that be any different from meat entering a slaughterhouse?

The four Root ninja remained completely unmoved by his stance. They adjusted their positions together, tightening the blockade.

Zongyan gave them no chance to continue organizing their formation. He surged forward, lunging straight at the nearest Root ninja ahead.

His opponent reacted extremely quickly, raising an arm to block and trying to seize him, clearly intending to take him alive.

Zongyan snorted inwardly:

Just what I wanted.

With a turn of his wrist, the kunai traced a cold arc, slicing precisely into a gap in his opponent's protective gear.

Slash-

A soft sound rang out as the blade cut through flesh.

The kunai severed the major artery in the Root ninja's neck, and blood suddenly gushed out.

He instinctively clutched his neck, managing only a muffled gurgle from his throat. In the blink of an eye, his gaze went vacant. His body slumped sideways to the ground and never moved again.

Killed in a single move.

At the sight, the remaining three instantly changed their movements. They no longer dared hold back, aiming every attack at his vital points.

Kunai in hand, Zongyan twisted and darted between the three, keeping his body extremely low. Relying on his far sharper-than-normal perception and the foundation in swordsmanship Itachi had drilled into him over the past few years, he stubbornly held his ground within their encirclement.

Fierce gusts whistled through the alley, accompanied by a rapid clatter of kunai striking protective gear.

After several exchanges, Zongyan seized an opening as an opponent changed positions. He hurled his kunai at an enemy attacking from one side to hold him off, rapidly formed hand seals, and let out a low shout:

"Fire Release: Great Fireball Technique!"

A huge fireball erupted with a roar, sending a wave of heat washing outward and blasting the man opposite him away.

A large section of the armor over the man's chest burned through. He tumbled far away and lay twitching on the ground, completely out of action.

Four against one, with one dead and one crippled.

But Zongyan himself was not doing much better.

He was only six, after all, and his chakra reserves were limited.

After that continuous stretch of high-speed attacks and defense, the chakra in his body had nearly run dry.

His limbs began to ache and swell, and his movements slowed by a beat or two.

The remaining two were battle-hardened elites. Once they noticed his condition deteriorating, their attacks instantly grew fiercer, leaving him no room to catch his breath.

Gritting his teeth, Zongyan blocked another two blows. His wrist had begun to tremble, and a thought surfaced:

...Damn it, am I going down?

Just as he felt he could no longer hold on, a figure brimming with fury tore through the dusk, charging toward them from the distant end of the street.

It was Itachi.

He had just finished his mission that day and had been intent on getting home early. He had not yet reached the clan grounds.

From a distance, he sensed the bursts of chakra coming from this alley. One of them was more familiar to him than anything: his younger brother's.

When he rushed to the alley's entrance and saw the scene inside, the fatigue lingering in his eyes from his mission instantly turned into towering fury.

Two Root ninja were directing killing moves at his younger brother. His beloved little brother was utterly exhausted but still forcing himself to hold on, his face covered in sweat.

Root actually dared disregard Konoha's rules and the Uchiha Clan, openly surrounding and trying to kill an Uchiha child in the village streets!

Itachi's face was as cold as frost. He formed hand seals with one hand so quickly that only afterimages remained, and shouted in a low voice:

"Fire Release: Phoenix Flower Jutsu!"

Several small fireballs shot out with precision, their tricky trajectories covering a broad area and completely sealing off the two Root ninja's escape routes.

Their expressions changed sharply as they hurriedly raised their hands to defend themselves, but Itachi's chakra reserves and ninjutsu precision were on an entirely different level.

Boom! Boom!

After several explosions, one man's defenses were blasted straight through. Covered in burns and with his bones shattered, he fell to the ground and never rose again.

The other managed to protect his vital points, but his entire breastbone caved in, and half his body was a bloody mess. He was thrown heavily into the distance and lay twitching on the ground, utterly incapable of resisting.

In an instant, Itachi single-handedly ended the deadly ambush in the alley.

He strode over to Zongyan and crouched before him, looking him up and down:

"Zongyan, where are you hurt?"

Zongyan really was feeling weak now. Panting, he waved a hand:

"I'm not hurt... just exhausted. Feeling a little sick..."

Still worried despite hearing that, Itachi ran his hands over him and pressed here and there. Only after confirming that there truly was no bleeding did he relax slightly.

Zongyan grew a little annoyed at being prodded. "Brother, I'm really fine."

Only after hearing that familiar tone did Itachi withdraw his hands.

By the time he stood, the anxiety and concern he had shown his younger brother had completely vanished from his face.

When he turned to look at the only Root ninja on the ground who was still conscious, something remained in those black eyes that seemed to chill even the air.

"...You deserve to die."

Just a few simple words, no more, but every one was ground out between his teeth.

The Root ninja shuddered all over. Even though he was accustomed to life and death, being stared at by Itachi's eyes now chilled him from his scalp to the soles of his feet.

Forcing himself to speak through his injuries and fear, his voice began to crack:

"S-stop... Uchiha Itachi... We were acting on Lord Danzo's orders! This was authorized by the higher-ups. If you attack, you're defying the village's orders!"

Hearing this, Itachi could not help feeling disappointed in the village once again. The Anbu had always been rooted in darkness, but now it seemed that beneath that darkness lay even greater decay!

In his years with the Anbu, he had seen plenty of the village's dark side, but what had happened today crushed the last of his illusions.

On his way home, in the village streets, they had openly attacked a young child of the Uchiha Clan.

This was no longer scheming in secret. They could not even be bothered to put up a fig leaf.

He could not be bothered to say another word. Drawing the kunai at his waist in one smooth motion, he raised his arm, and a glint of cold steel drove precisely into the man's neck.

There was no struggle, no wail. With his dimmed eyes still open, the last Root ninja slumped sideways and fell utterly silent.

The alley fell completely quiet, leaving only a few corpses.

The evening breeze swept up the smell of blood, mingling it with the dusk as it slowly dispersed.

Itachi turned and pulled Zongyan to his feet, brushing the dust off his clothes. His voice grew gentle again. "Come on. Let's go home."

Zongyan nodded and followed him out.