Chapter 50: Uchiha Iizumi and Uchiha Itachi

Uchiha Itachi’s single sentence plunged the dining table into an eerie silence. Only young Uchiha Sasuke, still innocent and unaware, broke the stillness by reaching out with his chopsticks and picking up a piece of tempura.

Sasuke suddenly sensed something was off. His small hand froze mid-motion.

He glanced left, then right.

Father, Mother, even his beloved older brother—everyone sat rigid in their seats, motionless.

Sasuke noticed: his brother was staring at Father. Father and Mother were both staring at him.

“What’s wrong?” Sasuke swallowed hard, desperate to break the silence.

But Father ignored him—instead, he turned directly to his eldest son.

“Itachi,” Fugaku Clan Head said, voice low and firm, “I already told you today. In a moment like this, I will not allow you to attack a fellow clan member without a legitimate reason.”

“And…” Fugaku added, “You and Iizumi are both prodigies—future pillars of the Uchiha clan. If you two were to clash, how would others view us? We’re already under suspicion. If it became known that our own family is torn apart by internal strife, our position would only grow more precarious.”

“You’re only twelve, Itachi,” Fugaku continued, “but you’re a mature child. You should understand this.”

Uchiha Itachi shook his head.

“Father,” he said flatly, “I won’t fight him.”

He paused, then added, “I just want to talk to Uchiha Iizumi.”

A moment later, he added, “I promise.”

…

The next morning, before dawn.

Uchiha Itachi stood before a modest two-story house.

Dark circles shadowed his eyes—evidence of sleepless nights.

He looked up at the doorbell.

“Press it,” came a quiet voice from behind him.

It was Fugaku.

Fugaku believed his son’s promise. He trusted that Itachi would not harm Iizumi. He knew his eldest son too well—proud, disciplined, and loyal.

But he also knew Iizumi.

And Fugaku wasn’t so sure Iizumi wouldn’t strike first.

Years ago, the boy had already made a move—on Itachi.

Though Iizumi had since calmed, even when crossing paths with Itachi, their eyes would merely meet and part.

Still, Fugaku couldn’t risk it.

So he followed.

But at that moment, both Uchiha Itachi and Fugaku looked up—toward the second-floor balcony.

A plump orange Ninja Cat sat on the railing, its golden eyes fixed on them.

—That’s a fat cat, the two men thought in unison.

“That’s Iizumi’s Ninja Cat,” Fugaku said to Itachi. “A fearsome one. It served beside Iizumi during the Third Ninja World War, fighting on the front lines. Even elite Jonin have failed to catch it.”

“I know it,” Uchiha Itachi said coldly. “On the day I first clashed with Iizumi, that cat clawed three deep wounds into my ankle. The scars are still there.”

Fugaku fell silent.

So Iizumi’s Ninja Cat wasn’t just a pet—it was a weapon.

“Fugaku-sama,” Tachibana Jiro said, voice dry and indifferent. He showed no respect to Itachi—didn’t even acknowledge him. “Iizumi-sama is already in the living room downstairs. Tea’s been prepared. No need to ring the bell—the door’s open. Just walk in.”

Fugaku blinked.

Then it hit him.

His son had stood at the door for over three minutes—long enough to have been noticed—yet never touched the bell.

They must’ve been seen the moment they arrived.

Uchiha Itachi stepped forward and pushed the door open.

This was the first time he’d entered this place.

And for the first time in years, he stood face-to-face with Uchiha Iizumi—the young man older than him by several years, a peer of Shisui, perhaps even older than Shisui himself.

Once, Iizumi’s name had been spoken alongside Shisui’s—equal in fame, equal in promise.

Fugaku followed behind.

He realized, with a pang, that he was the most tense of the three.

He braced himself, ready to step in—no matter the cost.

Even if it meant revealing his Mangekyō Sharingan.

He couldn’t let two of the clan’s greatest talents destroy each other in a blood feud.

…

Uchiha Itachi didn’t sit.

He walked to a sofa and stared at Uchiha Iizumi, who sat in casual clothes, calmly sipping tea.

“I expected lava to erupt the moment I stepped inside,” Itachi said. “I was ready for a fight.”

He glanced at the steaming cups of tea on the coffee table.

His tension eased—just slightly.

He wasn’t lying.

He meant every word.

Facing a man once considered equal to Shisui, Itachi felt no arrogance—no matter the power of his Sharingan.

He couldn’t be certain.

Was Iizumi, too, one of those rare individuals—possessing a Capacity as extraordinary as his own?

Did he, like Itachi and Shisui, also carry the same legendary eyes?

Slowly, Itachi unsheathed his ninja sword and laid it aside.

His voice remained calm, emotionless.

“The incident years ago… I’ve never stopped wondering. I never did anything to offend you.”

“So why did you try to kill me?”

…

Meanwhile, just outside.

“Ah… finally,” Izumi muttered, her eyes half-lidded.

Having learned from a past mistake—being late—she’d woken up before sunrise and rushed to Iizumi’s home.

But then she froze.

The door was open.

Her mind raced.

Did someone break in?

She dismissed the thought instantly.

The Leaf Village wouldn’t tolerate such disrespect.

No one would dare steal from Iizumi’s home.

Curious, she slapped her cheeks to shake off the drowsiness.

Then quickened her pace.

She stopped at the door, raised her hand, and called out with bright energy:

“Investigation Corps Trainee Uchiha Izumi reporting for duty!”

Three pairs of eyes turned toward her.

“Huh?”

“Huh?!”

Izumi stared, stunned.

Fugaku Clan Head. And Itachi.

Here?

Did I come at the wrong time?

…

(End of Chapter)

Chapter end