二十

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C O U P   D 'É T A T       

       I remained undetectable in the shadows. A masked man stood on top of the Assembly Hall, was it the same man Shisui saw Itachi with before? 

       "Nobody must know that I've come back," he said as Itachi kneeled. "You mustn't tell anyone that you are Madara Uchiha's prodigy." 

       "Of course," Itachi inclined his head. 

       I narrowed my eyes. From what Hikari described in the scrolls, this man looked nothing like how Madara was described. Shackles bound his wrists to a scythe, but that wasn't Madara's weapon of choice.  

          The crescent moon above stained the sky red. I bit my lip and waited for 'Madara' and Itachi to part their separate ways and put a literal term to Fugaku's infamous phrase, to have Konohagakure run red.

        "Your male friend, Kagami's ancestor. . .is dead," 'Madara' observed. "What of the girl, has she followed in Shisui's footsteps like we planned?"

         "No," Itachi murmured. "She promised to seek me out when I'm ready, after the rest of the Uchiha are dead. I take her word that she won't escape, Shisui was the only person she had left."

        "Very well," 'Madara' grunted. "When the time comes, I'll be sure to give you both. . .space. Now, shall we begin?"


      Both men attacked one home at a time. Itachi would go into one, while 'Madara' would infiltrate the neighbour's house. There were no screams due to the fact that most of the Uchiha were asleep.

     Once the first family were slaughtered, Itachi staggered out of their front door, streaked with blood. As I suspected, Itachi was too soft to take life. He dropped the crimson soaked Tanto and threw up in the front garden. He doubled over from the force of it, 'Madara' stood behind him and laughed, patting his back.

      'Madara' urged Itachi onward. I waited for them to eradicate all Uchiha in the street before I made my move. I darted towards the street, empty and dead with no traces of a massacre, all evidence would be inside the homes.

       I pushed open the front door of the first house, it was simple and plain. The oil lit lamps still burned with a dim flame as the first floor remained undisturbed. As I ascended the stairs, the scene changed drastically. Itachi was inexperienced with controlled kills, he'd knocked over a priceless vase and hallway centre pieces lay fractured on the ground.

      An elderly man lay face down, covered in blood in the bedroom threshold. A glass of water was spilt next to him, his lifeless hand still clutched around it. 

       I knelt down and examined the stab wound, if you could even call it that. The puncture was jagged and didn't go all the way through the body. It was almost like Itachi went for the fatal blow but decided against it, and when he tried to retract his blade, the man's spine got caught, causing the mutilated flesh. I was right, Itachi couldn't have massacred the second branch―he simply didn't have it in him. Itachi's pain overruled the hatred.

        The elderly man's wife suffered worse. She remained in bed, her arm outstretched in silent call for her husband. Her throat was slashed, but the movement had been so broken, that Itachi tried to put three cuts together to finish it. His hands probably trembled so much that he lost grip on the Tanto.   

       After surveying Itachi's failed work, I left the house and moved on to inspect the killings which 'Madara' had partaken in.

       Instantly, as I pushed the front door of the home open, destruction followed. The family that lived here were in their youth and had three young children, no older than eight. I grimaced and pressed the back of my hand to my lips.

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