"After walking around just now, did you notice anything?"
When Tōshirō asked this, Itachi froze for a moment, realizing that Tōshirō hadn't brought him here on a whim—it was intentional, for a purpose. After thinking for a while, he shook his head, saying he didn't feel anything in particular.
Tōshirō prompted him, "Tell me, how do you think these courtesans make their money?"
Itachi, though still young, had a mature mind. When he realized what Tōshirō meant, his expression darkened. "Through their bodies."
Tōshirō continued, "And do you think this kind of thing should be encouraged?"
Itachi shook his head firmly. "No."
Tōshirō smiled faintly. "Then if even a child like you understands that this is immoral, why do such places still exist so openly—thriving, even—in the Fire Country's most prosperous cities? These are acts we all agree are immoral, and yet adults accept them as normal. Not just here—this kind of trade thrives everywhere."
Itachi was momentarily stunned. He had never truly thought about this.
"When we start accepting such things as normal, it's terrifying," Tōshirō sighed. "Just like how we, as shinobi, are born to be tools for killing. But have you ever asked yourself—who decided that for us?"
Through this conversation, Itachi realized that Tōshirō was teaching him something deeper.
Then Tōshirō said, as if changing the subject, "Itachi, let me tell you something."
Itachi straightened up, listening attentively.
"In our time, during the wars, the daimyō would claim to eat only one meal a day to save resources for the army. The story goes that everyone followed his example and the savings went toward war efforts. You've probably read that part of history, right?"
Itachi nodded.
"What do you think of that?"
Itachi hesitated.
"Don't think about me—just answer objectively," Tōshirō said.
After a moment's thought, Itachi replied honestly, "From an objective point of view, the daimyō's actions were commendable."
"What you've seen is only what they want you to see." Tōshirō sneered. "Let me tell you the truth."
"The truth?"
"The daimyō did eat only one meal," Tōshirō said mockingly, "but what no one knows is—that one meal was enough to feed four people."
Itachi's expression darkened instantly; he felt deceived.
"And that's not even the worst part," Tōshirō continued. "The truly despicable part is that some naive young girls believed this propaganda so much that they sold their bodies—became courtesans—to earn money for the country's war funds. And when they grew old and lost their beauty, the government kicked them aside, denying everything, even wishing them dead to bury the shameful past."
Hearing this, Itachi clenched his fists, trembling with anger. His calm demeanor broke, and he spat out through his teeth, "Bastards."
Itachi rarely showed emotion, but learning of the Fire Country's corruption filled him with fury.
"Don't think the leaders are unaware of what's happening in the brothels and gambling dens," Tōshirō scoffed. "They know perfectly well. They allow it because it fills their pockets and indulges their own vices. The lives of ordinary people? They couldn't care less."
"When I unify the entire Fire Country," Tōshirō declared coldly, "the first thing I'll do is purge this rotten social order."
Itachi looked at him with reverence. "Uncle Tōshirō… you're a great man."
Tōshirō smiled faintly. "Remember this, Itachi: the most despicable thing in this world is doing filthy deeds under the banner of noble ideals."
Itachi nodded seriously. "I'll remember that, Uncle Tōshirō."
"Good. Then let's see how much you've learned." Tōshirō smiled like a teacher. "Let's talk about something familiar—the Will of Fire."
"The Will of Fire?"
"Yes."
Itachi thought for a moment and summarized its core in two words: "Self-sacrifice."
Tōshirō nodded. "More or less."
Then Itachi added thoughtfully, "Uncle Tōshirō, you mean the higher-ups use that slogan to manipulate the people beneath them, right?"
Tōshirō smiled. "You've gotten smarter being around me. Not bad. Yes, the Will of Fire's essence was self-sacrifice—but that was only the original concept."
"The original concept?"
"Concepts change depending on who holds power," Tōshirō said. "A weapon can kill—but it can also protect. It depends on how it's used. The First Hokage, Hashirama, may have been naive in some ways, but he was a true visionary. I respect him deeply. But I doubt he ever imagined that his ideals would be twisted after his death."
"Twisted?"
"Yes," Tōshirō said coldly. "The Will of Fire, which once stood for unity and sacrifice, was corrupted under Sarutobi Hiruzen's rule. It became a tool to maintain the ruling class's power."
"If you've been paying attention, you'll notice that not only Konoha preaches such slogans. Every village does. The Sand Village has the 'Will of Wind'—where the wind never ceases to blow across the endless sands. The Mist Village has the 'Will of Water'—where water flows endlessly through the fog. The wording changes, but the core remains the same: grandiose slogans to make people willingly sacrifice themselves for the village."
"Of course, I'm not saying sacrifice for one's village is wrong. But remember—'the village' is just an idea. The ones who control that idea… are people."
Itachi listened, deeply shaken. "As expected of you, Uncle Tōshirō. After hearing you say this, everything seems clearer now."
"Don't jump to conclusions yet," Tōshirō smirked. "Let me test you with an example. You've heard about White Fang's death, right?"
Itachi nodded. "Yes. During a mission, he chose to save his comrades instead of completing the task, causing great losses to the village. Unable to bear the criticism, he took his own life."
"Hmm, that's the official story," Tōshirō said.
Itachi frowned. "Uncle Tōshirō, are you saying his death wasn't as simple as that?"
"Of course not. Otherwise, why would I bring it up?" Tōshirō stood, folding his arms. "The answer lies in what I told you earlier."
Itachi lowered his gaze, muttering, "What we see is only what they want us to see…"
Tōshirō chuckled. "Exactly. Think about it while I use the restroom."
When Tōshirō returned, Itachi still hadn't found the answer. He lowered his head, embarrassed. "Sorry, Uncle Tōshirō…"
"It's fine," Tōshirō said kindly. "It's not that you're slow—it's that you're kind. You think too well of the village, so you can't imagine how dark it can be."
Itachi exhaled softly.
"Never harbor malice—but never forget caution," Tōshirō said. "You don't have to use these lessons, but you must understand them."
"Why are you telling me all this, Uncle Tōshirō?"
"Because you're like the First Hokage—truly selfless. Unlike that hypocrite Sarutobi Hiruzen. You carry the true Will of Fire. But you're still young, too easily manipulated. As your elder, I have a duty to guide you."
Tōshirō sighed. "And if something ever happens to me, you and Sasuke—one with wisdom, one with strength—will be my legacy, the two pillars to safeguard the Uchiha clan."
"Uncle Tōshirō…"
Itachi was deeply moved. For all his coldness toward outsiders, Tōshirō truly cared for his own clan.
Itachi, who had once contemplated killing his entire clan, now felt ashamed and unworthy to even look Tōshirō in the eye.
Tōshirō then explained the truth behind White Fang's death. In short—White Fang's reputation was too great, and the higher-ups didn't want him to become the next Hokage. So they spread rumors to ruin his name, ensuring he'd never be considered. But the scheme backfired—White Fang, crushed by betrayal, took his own life.
Tōshirō sighed. "I knew him. He was nothing like Sarutobi Hiruzen. He was a man of true conviction. But when he realized that the lofty ideals of the leadership were hollow lies, his faith collapsed. That's why he died—not because of 'criticism.' That's just a convenient excuse."
Itachi clenched his fists. "Despicable cowards…"
"And there's another reason," Tōshirō added. "He was condemned because he violated the so-called 'Will of Fire.'"
Itachi blinked. "Violated the Will of Fire?"
"To be precise, he violated Hiruzen's version of it—the ruling class's version," Tōshirō said coldly. "Think about it. If everyone followed White Fang's example—putting comrades before missions—would anyone still be willing to die for orders? That would shake the foundation of their control. Of course they had to destroy him."
Itachi was silent, overwhelmed. He had thought he understood the village's darkness—but he had underestimated it.
"Uncle Tōshirō, you're truly wise. You see through everything."
"It's not wisdom," Tōshirō replied softly. "It's just understanding human nature. Once you think in terms of self-interest, things make sense."
Itachi nodded.
"Alright, let's return to Konoha," Tōshirō said. "For the sake of true justice—help me build a new era."
"Yes."
A few days later, they returned to the village. When Fugaku saw Tōshirō, the tension in his brow slightly eased.
Sensing something, Tōshirō asked, "What's wrong? Did something happen while I was gone?"
"Kakashi's Sharingan was stolen."
Tōshirō froze. "What?"
"The assailant also had a Sharingan," Fugaku said grimly. "The village suspects us."
Tōshirō's eyes narrowed. "I see."
He didn't need to guess—it was Obito. Stirring conflict between Uchiha and the village, watching from the shadows, and gaining power in the process. It made perfect sense.
The Twin Kamui—offense and defense in one—an almost invincible ability. In some ways, it countered Tōshirō's own large-scale ocular powers.
He had intended to take Kakashi's eye himself, but Obito beat him to it.
Still, that was within his calculations.
Tōshirō had already devised a strategy to counter Obito's dual Kamui.
Kamui could ignore all physical attacks—but not spiritual ones.
In a battle between masters, victory could be decided in a fraction of a second. With Itachi as his hidden card, a single Tsukuyomi—even for half a second—would be enough for Tōshirō to rip out Obito's intangible eye. Without his ability to phase through attacks, Obito would be no match.
And beyond Tsukuyomi, Tōshirō held one final trump card—an absolute weapon, one that Obito could never hope to resist.
End of Chapter)
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