As Shisui Uchiha stood atop the roof, he found himself deep in thought, pondering why Gojo had chosen to meet him at such a critical juncture.
He was moments away from confronting the Third Hokage, an encounter that could shape the fate of the Uchiha clan.
Dust danced in the rays of the morning sun, a reminder of the impending storm brewing in the distance, and deep in his heart, unease began to settle like an unwanted guest.
His brows furrowed slightly as he continued to watch Gojo, who remained perched on the branch of the tree with a stoic expression, the brilliant morning light casting shadows across his features, emphasizing the sharp angles of his face.
Finally, breaking the palpable tension with an air of authority, Gojo spoke, his voice steady and devoid of emotion.
"Follow me to a secluded area."
Shisui nodded, curiosity flickering like candlelight in his chest.
What could Gojo want to discuss that required privacy? he wondered, momentarily brushing aside the urgency pulling him towards the Hokage.
A myriad of possibilities unfolded within his mind, each one lurking like hidden predators in the dark.
As they moved away from the familiar rooftops, the bustling village below faded into the background.
Gojo's expression remained unchanged, a mask of seriousness that conveyed the gravity of their conversation.
Upon reaching a quieter place shielded from prying eyes, Shisui squared his shoulders as he faced Gojo.
"Are you going to inform the old man about your Mangekyo Sharingan?" Gojo's tone cut through the air, sharp and precise.
Shisui was stunned, caught off guard by the directness of the question.
A wave of unease washed over him.
"How did you know about my awakening of the Mangekyo?" he demanded, eyeing Gojo with a mixture of suspicion and disbelief.
Did he use his Sharingan to see what I was hiding?
Realization hit him suddenly, after piecing the puzzle together.
He glared coldly at Gojo, the words escaping his lips like icy daggers.
"What does it have to do with you?"
Gojo just sneered, unfazed by Shisui's hostility.
"Are you really foolish enough to spill all your secrets to that old man? He won't stay quiet; you know how they fear the Uchiha."
The disdain in his voice made it sound as though he were discussing a mere annoyance, not the respected Hokage.
Shisui's cold demeanor shifted slightly, caught between anger and concern.
He shot back, "You should pay respects to the Third Hokage! Show him that respect!"
His tone was authoritative, reminiscent of storm clouds gathering before a downpour, commanding attention and reverence.
Hearing Shisui's assertion, Gojo felt a spark ignite within him—a sudden rush of anger.
Respect? he thought, struggling to keep his emotions in check.
In a moment of impulsive clarity, he unleashed his chakra—a massive wave of energy pulsating into the atmosphere, heavy and tangible, blanketing the area like a shroud of darkness.
Shisui was taken aback, suddenly kneeling on the ground, his senses overwhelmed by the sheer force radiating from Gojo.
For the first time, he felt a hint of fear creeping into his heart—fear that he had never experienced, even in the face of formidable enemies.
It was an unfamiliar sensation that sent shivers coursing through his spine, laced with a drip of icy dread.
Gojo's voice, cold as winter's breath, broke through Shisui's dazed clarity.
"You don't have the right to question me. That old man does not deserve my respect," he stated firmly, each word sharp and unforgiving.
The warning resonated deeply.
"And listen closely—do not reveal that information. If you do, you will surely die. They are already wary of the Uchiha, and they will do everything to deal with you. With you, the destruction of the Uchiha clan begins," he warned, his tone dropping to an even chillier whisper, each syllable weighted with the gravity of impending destruction.
Shisui was stunned by Gojo's words, unable to comprehend the depths of threat embedded in the discourse.
There was an intensity in Gojo's eyes that left no room for doubt.
Suddenly, the implications of his actions loomed over him like ominous storm clouds, dark and brooding.
Not far from their tense exchange, another narrative unfolded in the tranquil embrace of the woods.
Itachi Uchiha practiced his techniques under the cover of the towering trees, the sunlight streaming through the leaves like golden spears piercing the green canopy.
He remained focused, every movement honed to perfection; yet, something felt amiss that day, a sense of disturbance rippling through the air.
His instincts kicked in.
He felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end as a masked figure appeared with an otherworldly grace, materializing through a portal like a wisp of smoke emerging from the shadows—the spiral mask obscured the identity behind it, creating an aura of sinister mystery that stirred unease deep within Itachi's gut.
"Who are you?" Itachi demanded, his voice a low rumble, colder than the depths of winter.
He stayed alert, each fiber of his being tuned for danger, preparing for whatever threat this specter posed.
The masked man sneered, his voice dripping with condescension.
"These days, even the younger generation has forgotten about me. What a shame for the Uchiha Clan."
There was an air of arrogance surrounding him, a confidence borne of knowledge and power that sent shivers down Itachi's spine.
Unfazed by Itachi's cold demeanor, the masked man leaned forward, his voice attempting to coax Itachi with promises.
"I am Uchiha Madara."
Itachi's heart raced, the words striking him like thunder on a sunny day.
He couldn't comprehend it.
"How can Madara Uchiha be alive? Hashirama Senju killed you!"
His voice erupted from him, disbelief mingling with a surge of fortitude, like a lion roaring in the face of danger.
The masked man merely laughed, a chilling sound that reverberated in the stillness of the woods.
"Nobody can kill me," he replied dismissively, his voice smooth yet laced with malice.
"I used a forbidden technique to escape death."
His words hung in the air like a dark cloud, heavy with unspoken implications.
Itachi stood rooted to the spot, confusion clouding his judgment as he processed this revelation.
Had this truly been possible?
How could the legends be so wrong?
Madara continued, his tone attempting to coax Itachi with promises.
"Today, I have come to invite you to join my organization. We share a common goal, after all—an end to the feeble state of affairs in Konoha."
Itachi clenched his fist, an immediate wave of defiance coursing through him.
"I will never betray Konoha," he replied, the conviction in his voice unwavering, like an unyielding mountain standing against the elements.
Yet Madara merely chuckled, a mocking sound filled with certainty, as if he were an all-seeing oracle predicting the future.
"You will come back to me," he declared with a smirk, shrouded in confidence, a sense of inevitability trailing his words.
As the masked figure retreated into the shadows, Itachi's thoughts raced; his mind revolved around the encounter as he processed what had just transpired.
He needed to warn Shisui.
There was no time to waste.
His brother's well-being, the fate of the clan—he could not allow his personal convictions to cloud judgment.
Back in the secluded area where Gojo and Shisui had engaged in their heated exchange, tension hung thickly in the air, connecting the two Uchiha like an invisible thread.
Shisui remained stunned, trying to absorb Gojo's warning about the repercussions of revealing his Mangekyo to the Third Hokage.
The realization sunk in, a heavy weight that pulled him down with gnawing anxiety.
"I didn't expect to hear that from you, Gojo," he finally said, breaking the silence that lingered like a restless spirit.
How did this situation get so complex?
Gojo regarded him, his expression expressionless yet piercing, a harsh reminder that sometimes the truth was unwavering and cruel.
"I only speak what needs to be said. If you don't heed this warning, you'll jeopardize everything you hold dear."
Shisui contemplated Gojo's words, pondering the path that lay ahead—a treacherous one shrouded in uncertainty.
His thoughts drifted to the dangers lurking just beyond sight, hidden like secrets in a locked chest.
How much could he share with the Hokage without sealing his clan's fate?
Would they believe him, No I believe in third hokage?
Not far away, the sun began its descent as Itachi remained at the edge of contemplation, still reflecting on his encounter with Madara.
Though fear had not been part of his upbringing, he now realized how easily the game could change, like seasons shifting from warmth to frost in the blink of an eye.
His determination hardened.
He was not alone; he was equipped with resolve built from years of training, from bonds formed with those he entrusted.
Shisui would listen to him; they had always been brothers in arms.
As the tranquility of the woods enveloped him, Itachi took a moment to breathe, finding clarity in the growing chaos surrounding him.
There was unity in purpose, the very essence that would propel him forward in this tumultuous narrative weaving through the fabric of their lives.
Itachi steeled himself, turning from the shadows cloaked in foreboding.
Whatever lay ahead, he would confront it with conviction—and perhaps he could find a way to protect what mattered most before the looming darkness swallowed them whole.
In the sprawling world of shinobi, the threads of fate twisted together like the roots of a grand, ancient tree.
Each decision rippled outward, carrying weight in every direction, an ongoing testament to the endless ebb and flow of power, desperation, and the struggle for control.
As destiny prepared to shift once more, Gojo and Shisui faced their intertwined fates, unaware of the impending storm gathering on the horizon—a storm that would test their resolve, challenge their loyalties, and reshape their world into something unrecognizable.
Chapter End.