Chapter 147: Itachi Is Dead—The Uchiha Clan Will Only Cheer with Jubilation (8,000 Words)

“There are two Sannin of Leaf Village present on the scene, and one of them—no less than a Three-Tailed Sage—has chosen to stand beside Uchiha Iizumi.”

At the same time, within the Hyūga Compound, Hyūga Hiashi slowly exhaled.

The veins around his eyes gradually faded, and he murmured to himself:

“It seems the Hokage-sama and Uchiha Iizumi won’t be engaging in any violent confrontation tonight.”

He still felt the lingering heat in the air, breathing in the faint scent of sulfur that hung like a ghost over the battlefield. The moment was one of profound relief, yet also deep unease.

He was grateful that Uchiha Iizumi’s Susanoo had formed with its back turned toward the Hyūga Compound.

Had it faced them directly—and had that blade fallen—there was no doubt the entire compound would have been cleaved in two.

After all, the distance between the Hyūga residence and the epicenter of the battle between Uchiha Iizumi and Uchiha Itachi was less than a kilometer.

Only because of this proximity had Hyūga Hiashi been able to use his Byakugan to observe the clash in full detail.

He knew exactly who Uchiha Iizumi was fighting.

Just then, a faint sensation stirred in the air.

Hyūga Hiashi abruptly turned his head toward a distant direction.

A figure dashed past—urgent, anxious—before suddenly pausing mid-stride, as if sensing something.

For a brief second, the figure glanced back.

Their eyes met.

“Uchiha Fugaku…”

Hyūga Hiashi recognized the face instantly. His expression darkened.

What must he be feeling now… knowing who it was that Uchiha Iizumi killed?

“Hmph?”

Another cold, malevolent gaze settled on him.

He turned.

There, not far away, Hyūga Neji had already turned his back and was walking away, his face a mask of icy detachment.

“A shame… he still can’t let go,” Hyūga Hiashi sighed softly, a pang of guilt tightening in his chest.

But he didn’t know how to speak to Neji.

Not now. Not ever.

…

“Why do you possess Shisui’s Kakusei no Ketsu?” Hiruzen Sarutobi kept his distance, instinctively wary.

“It’s not just that—you fought someone else, didn’t you? Someone who used Susanoo. Was that person also a Uchiha?”

The question hung in the air.

Hiruzen Sarutobi had no intention of provoking conflict. But the moment he spoke, he already knew it was futile—Uchiha Iizumi wasn’t interested in conversation.

Uchiha Iizumi glanced at Izumi, then said:

“She’ll answer you.”

Hiruzen Sarutobi: …

Even a few words feel like an insult now?

“Huh?” Izumi blinked, her eyes darting left and right. Her throat tightened. She swallowed hard, then quickly tucked the scroll sealed with Amaterasu away.

She straightened up, her voice sharpening with urgency.

“Uchiha Itachi has already manifested the pathological extremism that Iizumi-senpai predicted. He planned to conspire with Uchiha Obito and, within the next two months, ignite the Night of the Massacre across the Uchiha Clan.”

“He intended to assassinate Leaf Village ninja who believe in Absolute Justice. He tried to kill me. But at the crucial moment, Iizumi-senpai appeared and, in the name of Absolute Justice, delivered Judgment upon Uchiha Itachi—then executed him.”

“The crime was no longer hypothetical. It was real. And thus, he had to pay the price for his sins.”

“By killing Itachi, Iizumi-senpai didn’t just save the Uchiha Clan. He saved the entire Ninja World.”

“For a man twisted by such extreme ideology… one day, he would have unleashed a catastrophe far greater than anything we’ve seen.”

Her words were bold—shocking even.

And just as she reached the climax, she sensed another presence approaching.

Or rather—they’d already arrived.

They’d heard every word.

“Izumi… you’re back.”

The voice carried urgency.

Uchiha Fugaku—heart pounding, face pale—rushed forward.

He stood frozen in place.

Her words echoed in his mind.

Itachi… was dead.

He’d just been told his eldest son—his pride, his future, his flesh and blood—had been killed by her.

By Iizumi-senpai.

“Fugaku…” Hiruzen Sarutobi saw the tremor in the man’s frame. The look in his eyes. He understood.

He placed a hand on Fugaku’s shoulder.

“…I’m sorry.”

Only two words.

But they cut through the silence like a blade.

Fugaku’s body shuddered.

He turned slowly toward Uchiha Iizumi.

His fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

The calm, composed Uchiha Fugaku—once thought to be unshakable—was now drowning in storm.

Anger.

Grief.

Regret.

Confusion.

Hatred.

All of it exploded inside him.

His Sharingan flared, the whites of his eyes tinged with red.

Even his rigid, expressionless face twitched—muscles trembling like wires under pressure.

My son… my pride… my heir…

He hadn’t even been able to reach him in time.

He hadn’t been able to say goodbye.

Fugaku had thought himself hardened.

But nothing could prepare him for the agony of losing a child—a child he couldn’t save.

He felt the same pain Hiruzen Sarutobi had known twice before.

“Iizumi…” His voice cracked.

Why?

“Why?” he rasped, fighting to keep control. “Itachi was still a child—his worldview wasn’t even fully formed. He may have had… questionable thoughts… but that doesn’t mean he deserved—”

He stopped.

He couldn’t finish.

Deserved what?

To be killed?

From the perspective of Absolute Justice?

From the standpoint of the Uchiha Clan?

Was it truly wrong?

“…You should have known this would happen,” Uchiha Iizumi said coldly, stepping forward. His gaze locked onto Fugaku’s.

“If you had listened to me when I warned you. If you had disciplined that monster you raised. If you had tried to correct his twisted mindset…”

This wouldn’t have happened.

“Uchiha Fugaku. Your greatest flaw? Compromise.”

“You compromised when the village pressured you. You compromised when your own son embraced extremism.”

“Every failure began with you.”

He took another step.

Closer.

“Who forced Itachi to fight at four years old?”

“Who praised him at eight for awakening his Sharingan—after his teammate was killed?”

“Who, when told of his son’s descent into darkness, did nothing… just let it happen?”

“Fugaku. Your weakness created this evil. But you, a coward, will never admit it.”

“Don’t soil my ears with your sickening excuses.”

Uchiha Iizumi didn’t spare him a shred of dignity.

He laid bare every failure—every compromise, every act of neglect.

And he didn’t exaggerate.

Because every word was true.

The Uchiha family—save for Mikoto and Sasuke—was warped by nature.

“Fugaku.”

A hand landed on his shoulder.

Hiruzen Sarutobi’s voice was heavy.

“Are you saying Itachi was working with Akatsuki’s Uchiha Obito?”

Izumi turned her gaze from Fugaku, her eyes sharp.

She’d been afraid he might lash out in rage.

But Fugaku—still trembling—only nodded.

“Yes.”

Hiruzen Sarutobi exhaled slowly.

He could guess Itachi’s intent.

Itachi knew he couldn’t defeat Iizumi alone. He couldn’t destroy the Uchiha Clan by himself.

He needed outside power.

But the Hokage was Zetsu’s protected one.

He couldn’t call on the village.

So he turned to the outside.

To Akatsuki.

To Obito.

“…Hmph.”

Hiruzen Sarutobi’s breath fogged the air.

He’d warned Itachi. He’d pleaded with him.

Itachi had always obeyed.

He’d said, “I understand,” “I’ve learned.”

But what had he really learned?

Had he even seen?

Did he truly grasp the cost?

Hiruzen Sarutobi forced himself to accept the loss.

Another powerful shinobi gone.

“Where is Itachi’s body?” he asked, voice low.

“Return it to Fugaku. Let him take it home.”

Fugaku’s face twitched.

His eyes flicked to Iizumi.

“Vaporized.”

Not a single cell remains.”

She paused, then added:

“If you want to bury him… you can use his old clothes. Make a Tomb with Robes.”

Just then, a voice cut through the silence.

“Newbie, come on. Take the new one and let’s go. No need to linger here like a bunch of gossiping old women.”

Izumi turned.

There—Uchiha Iizumi and Tachibana Jiro were already walking away.

Ignoring the Hokage.

Ignoring Fugaku.

They were gone.

“Right!” Izumi quickly lifted the still-unconscious Mitarashi Anko onto her back and followed.

Hiruzen Sarutobi: …

Fugaku: …

Hiruzen Sarutobi turned to Fugaku, whose body still trembled.

“Fugaku,” he said, voice grave.

“I do not wish to see internal strife within the Uchiha Clan. A fractured Uchiha is unstable. And unstable clans are dangerous for the village.”

“Don’t make me—don’t make anyone—regret what comes next.”

He paused.

“Regarding Itachi… he allied with Akatsuki. He plotted to kill his own comrades. That is not just betrayal. That is treachery.”

“Fugaku. This won’t help your clan. It won’t help you. It will only ruin Itachi’s name.”

He thought of his own son, Hiruzen Asama.

Asama had consorted with members of the Guardian Ninja Twelve.

The village had turned against him.

Now… Itachi was going to be linked to Akatsuki. To Obito. To the Masked Man.

The very ones who might have sparked the Nine-Tails Uprising.

How could he? Why?

“I… understand, Hokage-sama,” Fugaku murmured.

After a long silence, he bowed his head.

…

Half an hour later.

Uchiha Fugaku didn’t know how he’d walked back to the Uchiha Compound.

He stood before the gate.

His eyes lifted.

His wife and younger son were already waiting.

Uchiha Mikoto noticed his expression.

Something was wrong.

Worse than when Sasuke had declared allegiance to Absolute Justice.

“What happened?” she asked, stepping forward.

“Itachi…” Fugaku lowered his gaze.

“He took the path Iizumi-senpai foretold. He tried to kill her. She appeared. And… he died.”

The words were heavy, low.

He didn’t look at Sasuke.

He walked past them—silent, hollow.

Just a shadow.

But inside his sleeve, his fists were clenched so hard his nails bit into his palms.

Veins pulsed beneath his skin.

He hated himself.

Hated that he’d once again chosen compromise.

Hated that he’d failed as a father.

But he didn’t hate himself for raising Itachi.

He believed his methods were right.

Sending a child to war at four?

That was how you tested potential.

That was how you unlocked the Uchiha’s true strength.

Sasuke—untouched by war—was proof.

He’d awakened his Sharingan only because Itachi pushed him.

But he still fell short.

Itachi… is dead.

Sasuke stared at the floor.

He didn’t understand his father’s silence.

He didn’t know that Fugaku was already judging him.

“Fugaku!” Mikoto called.

“Where’s Itachi’s body?”

Fugaku paused.

He took three deep breaths.

“…Gone.”

Mikoto froze.

Fugaku turned.

“Want to know how Iizumi is? She’s fine. Itachi threw everything he had—even Susanoo—but not a single scratch touched her.”

“I didn’t attack her. I held back. I let her speak. I listened to the Hokage’s warning.”

“Maybe… she wasn’t wrong. I am weak. I do compromise.”

He braced for her anger.

But Mikoto only nodded.

Her voice was thick.

“Itachi chose the wrong path. Iizumi merely made him pay for it.”

“Fugaku… calling it compromise isn’t fair. This time… you saw.”

Fugaku blinked.

“You think… Itachi was wrong? That Iizumi was right?”

“Even if he died by her hand… you still believe that?”

Mikoto nodded.

“…Yes.”

Fugaku stood still.

His mind reeled.

…

“Why does everything go wrong the moment I come to Leaf Village?” Biwa Jūzō muttered, slumped at a corner table in a small tavern.

He was back.

And he’d retrieved his Execution Sword.

He didn’t want to be far from Leaf Village—far from Uchiha Iizumi.

Because without that anchor, he’d be alone again.

And alone, he’d be dead.

He’d already faced Obito, Kakashi, and the others.

He knew he couldn’t beat them.

He took a long sip of sake.

His eyes drifted to the horizon.

The battle had ended.

But he’d seen it all.

Two Susanoo clashing—monsters made of bone and shadow.

For a moment, he thought the entire village would be destroyed.

He’d even considered fleeing.

But then… one of them fell.

In a single stroke.

It was over.

“…I should’ve thanked her,” he mused, staring into his cup.

“The Molten Release Beast saved my life.”

Just then—his reflection in the sake glass flickered.

Behind him—a shadow.

His breath caught.

His hand shot to the Execution Sword.

One move.

One breath.

He’d cut whoever came at him.

“…It’s me.”

The voice.

Familiar.

Biwa Jūzō froze.

Before he could turn, a man sat beside him.

He didn’t move.

His palms were slick with sweat.

He’d been terrified.

Not because he was afraid of death.

But because this man—Uchiha Iizumi—was the only one who could kill him without breaking a sweat.

He’d already accepted it.

“I’m not your enemy,” he said, slowly lowering the sword.

“Just… don’t make me look weak.”

He knew.

In the man’s eyes, he was nothing.

But he also knew—he was still alive.

And that was worth something.

Uchiha Iizumi spoke:

“How long will you stay in Leaf Village?”

Biwa Jūzō glanced at him.

“Until those three stop watching me. Then I’m leaving. I won’t return to Akatsuki. I’ll find another group.”

“No.”

Uchiha Iizumi shook his head.

“You return to Rain Village. You return to Akatsuki. And you tell Konan everything.”

Biwa Jūzō’s eyes widened.

“What? You’re joking. I can’t fight them!”

He looked terrified.

“I’ll go with you.”

The words hit him like a thunderclap.

Biwa Jūzō stared.

“You… aren’t thinking of joining Akatsuki?”

He remembered Iizumi’s doctrine.

Absolute Justice.

To him, Akatsuki—the war-mongers, the puppeteers of nations—were the very definition of evil.

And now, Iizumi was going to destroy them?

“Akatsuki is a nest of evil,” Iizumi said.

“Obito. Orochimaru. They are all targets of Absolute Justice.”

“By gathering them together, Akatsuki makes it easier. No need to hunt them across the world. Purge them all. It’s our duty.”

Biwa Jūzō exhaled sharply.

“You’re the only one in the entire Ninja World who’d say that.”

He looked at Iizumi’s eyes.

Maybe… he could do it.

He knew what he’d be doing.

Betraying Akatsuki.

But he also knew…

He had no choice.

“I’ll leave tomorrow morning.”

Just then—another thought.

“…Is this your real body?”

“Wood Clone.”

Iizumi answered.

Biwa Jūzō: …

Wait.

What?

He’d thought Iizumi would protect him.

But this was just a clone?

A Wood Clone?

So the only purpose of this clone was to track him?

To lead Iizumi to Akatsuki’s base?

That meant—it was just a locator.

Biwa Jūzō’s face went pale.

“What if Obito still comes after me? Why not send the real you?”

“The village has unfinished business,” the clone said.

“My true body must cleanse the evil here. Build the foundation of Absolute Justice in the Land of Fire. This is the first trial.”

It said nothing more.

But the silence—the presence—was enough.

Even a clone, just sitting there, radiated pressure.

Like facing a genin who’d fought Maito Kai.

Biwa Jūzō broke out in cold sweat.

“…Fine. We leave tomorrow.”

He had no choice.

He had to believe Iizumi wouldn’t let him die.

Because Absolute Justice didn’t kill the innocent.

…

The next day.

Morning.

The news spread like wildfire.

Uchiha Itachi was dead.

And within the Uchiha Compound—chaos.

“Finally, that Byakugan dog bastard is gone!”

Sasuke—still dazed, heading to Ninja Academy—overheard a voice from an Investigation Corps ninja.

“He hid in Leaf Village for weeks. But he couldn’t escape. Iizumi caught him. Killed him.”

“I’d have complained if she’d killed someone else. But Itachi? I’m cheering.”

“He was planning to wipe out the entire clan!”

The other ninja scoffed.

“That fight last night… must’ve been them. Itachi was a genius. But even he couldn’t match Iizumi.”

“Fugaku tried to protect him. But now he only has a corpse.”

“And even that’s gone.”

Sasuke’s mind echoed with the words.

Itachi’s death… was just a footnote.

To the Uchiha, it was proof.

Absolute Justice was real.

And it was right.

The clan respected Iizumi more than ever.

They spoke to Fugaku without honor.

No “Fugaku-sama.”

Just “Fugaku.”

Because he’d failed.

Because he’d protected a monster.

“Justice must not be tainted by blood,” Sasuke whispered to himself.

Even family… if they cross the line… they must be cut down.

…

Meanwhile.

Hyūga Compound.

Neji hadn’t slept.

His eyes were hollow. His posture weary.

He’d just finished breakfast.

Then he saw several Branch House ninjas walk past—faces dark, eyes burning.

He knew that look.

He’d felt it too.

He caught up, blocking their path.

“What’s going on?”

They stopped.

One looked at him.

“You’re Hiashi’s son…”

Before he could speak, another pulled him back.

“Nothing for you to worry about.”

Neji’s stomach twisted.

“Someone died?” he asked, voice tight.

“If it was natural… you wouldn’t hide it. So… was it a Branch House elder?”

Silence.

The answer.

“No… he tried to break the Cage of Birds. Without permission.”

“He was caught. The Head Family sealed him.”

“The seal… was too much. He died from the pain.”

“He passed at four in the morning.”

One elder knelt, gently ruffled Neji’s hair.

“Don’t cry. Get used to it. This is our fate.”

“Birds in a cage… can never fly.”

“Just don’t break the rules. Then you’ll be safe.”

Neji staggered back.

Rules are rules.

Habit is right.

No one can break the rules.

This is our destiny.

The words echoed.

Through the halls.

Through the classroom.

He touched the bandage on his forehead.

The Cage of Birds.

Pain.

Powerlessness.

Injustice.

Then—thud.

He bumped into someone.

A cry.

A fall.

He looked down.

A boy with messy hair and thick brows—sitting on the ground, clutching his knee.

“Neji, forget him,” a classmate said, slapping his shoulder.

“He can’t even control chakra. The teacher says he’ll never learn ninjutsu. He’s useless.”

“He wants to be a ninja? Hah. There’s no such thing as a ninja who can’t use ninjutsu!”

“He’s not even in our world, Neji. Don’t waste your time.”

Neji shook off the hand.

His eyes—cold.

“You’re just like the ones I hate most.”

Arrogant.

Above others.

Like you can decide who lives… who dies… who’s a replacement.

The classmate froze.

Neji lifted his foot.

Then stopped.

He looked down.

Then helped the boy up.

“Sorry,” he said.

And walked away.

Justice… should be like this.

That was his thought.

…

(End of Chapter)

Chapter end