Boom!
"Calm down!"
"Aaagh... Die!"
"Focus! Target the enemy commander first!"
"Earth Release: Inner Decapitation Technique!"
The dark forest was teeming with danger. Screams of the wounded echoed between the trees, mingling with the metallic clash of kunai and shuriken, the booming roar of exploding tags—chaos filled the air, and Uchiha Itachi heard it all.
Even his clothing and the soles of his shoes were stained with blood just from moving through the battlefield.
Though he wasn't allowed to fight, wasn't even qualified to, simply following Fugaku through the thick of the forest had brought him into the heart of the carnage. Blood sprayed from every direction, sometimes even dripping from the trees above like rain, soaking into his clothes.
This was his first time fully enveloped by the reality of war.
Until now, he had only seen the aftermath—part of the logistics unit, cleaning up after the battles. But this time, ambushed and surrounded, he felt a true and pressing sense of danger.
Haaah—
Itachi forced his breathing to stay steady. He clung tightly to his father's shadow as they darted through the dense, pitch-black woods.
From time to time, Fugaku would vanish ahead of him, only to reappear a moment later—each time with his kunai dripping red, as if freshly coated in crimson paint.
So this… is war.
In the past, Itachi had only been a bystander. But now that he was part of the chaos—truly in it—he understood what the word meant.
Lives were being lost every moment. Like inflated balloons, full of color and energy, bursting with a single prick—gone with a soft pop and left discarded on the ground, forgotten like garbage.
Yes, garbage.
People were like garbage.
Itachi's expression remained eerily calm. From the moment they left the village, he had passed countless corpses—both Uchiha and Iwa-nin alike. Their bodies littered the battlefield like trash, abandoned wherever they fell.
They had lost their voices, their breath. Just moments earlier, they had fought with fierce determination. Now, they lay silent—reduced to waste of equal "value."
No… not quite equal.
As a bearer of the Uchiha bloodline—as someone possessing the rare and coveted Sharingan—he should hold greater worth than an ordinary Iwa-nin.
That was what Itachi told himself.
He didn't consider stepping in, didn't once think of engaging in the battle himself.
Even now, caught in the midst of danger, he remained composed—analytical. He knew full well he lacked the strength to contribute. Seeking shelter beneath his father's protection was all he could do for now.
As they pushed farther from the battlefield, the sounds of violence—screams, explosions, blades clashing—grew quieter.
And yet, Itachi felt more like an outsider than ever. Detached. Distant.
His thoughts lingered elsewhere.
The fact that his mind had begun associating life with terms like "value" or "quality" disturbed him.
If a life could be defined by its worth… then what was his?
What kind of value would be assigned to his own existence?
Ever since stepping onto the battlefield, his mind hadn't stopped questioning. And now, as the danger lessened, his thoughts surged even faster.
"We should be beyond the enemy's encirclement now."
Fugaku's voice broke the silence just as the only sound left was the soft rustle of footsteps against the forest floor.
Surrounded by tall grass and dense trees, the forest felt still—eerily quiet.
Fugaku came to a stop, his eyes scanning the surroundings.
When he spotted a hollow within a tree trunk that could serve as shelter, he paused, lost in thought.
"Itachi… can you stay here by yourself?"
Suddenly, Fugaku turned to face his son, expression unreadable.
Looking into his five-year-old's small, solemn face, he hesitated for a moment—but still forced the question out. "I may have to leave for a while."
Leaving a child—his child—alone on a battlefield was no easy choice.
If it had been another clan's squad that had fallen into danger, perhaps Fugaku wouldn't even consider turning back.
But this was an Uchiha unit. And he was the clan's leader.
Itachi understood what his father intended. Yet even then, he showed no fear. He simply nodded. "I'll be fine."
Strictly speaking, he wouldn't be alone.
By his side—though invisible to others—stood a ghost. A king. Artoria.
Even now, though her form was hidden, he could feel her presence. Quiet, composed, watching over him.
"Don't come out, no matter what. I'll return for you once the field is cleared."
With Itachi's affirmation, Fugaku no longer hesitated. He pointed toward the hollow in the tree and motioned for Itachi to crawl inside.
Before leaving, he carefully erased their tracks to conceal any sign of their path.
Soon, the sound of his footsteps faded into the distance, and Itachi, curled up inside the tree hollow, was left in silence.
Darkness. Stillness.
Alone in the shadowy space, Itachi felt his senses heighten. Especially his hearing.
He couldn't tell what he was sensing—bugs? Animals? Humans?
But whatever they were, they didn't frighten him.
Instead, the darkness wrapped around him like a cocoon. It was peaceful. Isolated.
Here, no one would disturb him.
Here, he could think—freely and quietly.
"Are you still there, my king?"
He asked the question politely, silently, within his mind.
"There's no need to be afraid. If anyone approaches, I'll alert you."
Artoria's voice answered gently. Her ghostly form shimmered into view just outside the hollow, speaking with her usual calmness and grace.
But this time, Itachi sensed something else in her tone—something almost tender.
"My king," he began again, "may I ask you something? Something we didn't finish discussing before."
To Artoria's surprise, the boy—barely five years old—sat curled in the shadows of the hollow, looking up at her with those dark, emotionless eyes.
"Do you… still long for war?"
His voice was tranquil. Unshaken. Without a hint of fear.
There was no tremor in his expression, no panic in his words. Just stillness.
His obsidian eyes were like stagnant water—motionless, unreadable.
Was this really a child?
Moonlight fell on Artoria's snow-white skin, illuminating the flicker of confusion in her emerald eyes.
She stared back at him.
"Even now… even in such danger… that's what you're thinking about?"
"You're not afraid of death?"
"To you, are the answers to these questions more important than figuring out how to survive?"
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Hey everyone! I'll be dropping an extra 1 chapter once we hit 200, 400 power stones! If you're enjoying the story, don't forget to spend some power stones. I'd really appreciate the support. Thanks a bunch!