The reflection of a red moon spread across the Uchiha compound, casting the quiet district in an ominous glow. The silence was deep—unnatural. Not a dog barked. Not a bird stirred. The only sound was the soft crunch of sandals brushing against gravel.
Two figures moved quietly through the back road, cloaked in shadow. One was a young man with sharp eyes, his face calm, his movements exact. The other wore a swirling orange mask, and his steps were completely silent, like a ghost beside him.
Itachi and the masked man advanced slowly, their destination clear.
But then, they halted.
A lone figure stood in the middle of the path—facing them, unmoving. The silver light of the moon outlined his frame, and his presence sent a ripple through the air.
It was Gojo.
His white hair was lightly brushed by the night breeze, and his gaze—icy and unmoving—locked directly onto Itachi.
"So the so-called prodigal son, Itachi… Are you ready to slaughter your clan and family?" Gojo began. His voice was calm, but cold. "Tch. What an ungrateful person."
Itachi remained unfazed.
"Gojo," he said in a cold tone. "Just return. Or else, don't blame me when I harm you. You have the blood of that woman who betrayed the clan."
Gojo's eyes sharpened. His chakra stirred, and in an instant, his Golden Sharingan activated. Rage seethed beneath his calm expression.
"You don't deserve to speak of betrayal," Gojo hissed. "The biggest betrayal is to your own parents. And you're doing that now. You can't protect your clan, your family, and yet you speak of protecting Konoha? What a joke."
The masked man stepped forward slightly, but Gojo didn't flinch. The tension cracked the air between them.
Without warning, the masked man lunged.
He moved quickly, striking first—but Gojo met him head-on. With a thunderous fist, he sent the masked man flying, crashing him against a nearby tree.
Gojo didn't budge. He turned to Itachi again.
"As long as I'm here, no one touches the Uchiha clan. This is my mother's clan."
Itachi narrowed his eyes and formed a hand seal. The Mangekyo Sharingan swirled into existence, and chakra surged around him.
The fight began.
Itachi dashed forward, blade in hand, and Gojo met him halfway. Their blades clashed, sparks flying under the moonlight. Gojo blocked a downward strike and countered with a punch aimed at Itachi's ribs, forcing him to leap back.
They moved with blinding speed, each attack sharper than the last. Gojo's superhuman strength gave him an edge in close quarters, while Itachi relied on precision and technique.
Genjutsu flickered for an instant—a trap hidden in Itachi's gaze. Gojo closed his eyes momentarily, channeling chakra through his body to break the illusion. He lunged forward, slamming his palm toward Itachi's chest.
Itachi dodged, flipping mid-air, and launched a barrage of shuriken laced with fire-style chakra. Gojo deflected them with a swift spin, his cloak catching some of the flame as he charged forward again.
Their clash continued for several minutes—a blur of movement, steel, and chakra. The ground cracked beneath their feet.
Gojo suddenly slammed his hands together.
"Wood Release: Piercing Branches!"
Sharp wooden tendrils erupted from the earth, forcing Itachi to jump high. Gojo followed, launching himself upward with a burst of chakra and spinning into a mid-air kick that connected with Itachi's side.
Itachi crashed into the ground, rolling back with a grunt. Blood streaked down the side of his mouth, but he stood quickly.
His eye bled.
"Amaterasu."
The black flames ignited, hungry and inescapable.
Gojo leapt away, his clone technique activating mid-motion.
"Wood Release: Clone Technique."
The clone took the brunt of the flames, consumed instantly. Gojo emerged from the smoke, panting lightly, but unharmed.
The masked man reappeared beside Itachi, blocking Gojo's pursuit.
"I'll handle him. You go," he said to Itachi.
Gojo narrowed his eyes.
"You're really trying to rush now? You think I came here alone?"
The masked man tensed.
Gojo stepped forward.
Then—
BOOM.
A deafening explosion erupted near the compound.
Dust filled the air. The shockwave tore through the trees.
Itachi turned, only to be met with a powerful kick to the chest.
He was sent flying, crashing into the stone path, coughing blood.
He looked up, dazed, eyes wide with disbelief.
A new figure stepped through the smoke—face obscured, identity hidden.
Gojo didn't turn.
He just smiled coldly.
"Now it's over."
The red moon hung high above, its reflection burning in every shattered stone of the Uchiha district.
Perfect. Since you confirmed with "Yes," I'll now continue the story with the next chapter, directly following the end of the last scene.
🔻Scene Setup Recap:
Gojo fought Itachi in a fierce one-on-one duel.
Gojo used Wood Release and showed his overwhelming strength.
Itachi used Amaterasu, but Gojo escaped with a clone.
The masked man tried to hold Gojo back while Itachi moved.
Then—an explosion.
A mysterious figure kicked Itachi away and appeared from the smoke.
Gojo didn't even turn—he knew who it was.
The identity of this person is still hidden.
The night was no longer silent.
The explosion had ruptured the stillness of the Uchiha compound, sending dust and debris swirling across the blood-red moonlit path. Flames licked the edges of nearby rooftops. The ground trembled slightly, chakra residue still hanging thick in the air.
Itachi groaned as he dragged his battered body from the cracked pavement. Blood ran down his chin from the kick he'd taken moments earlier. His Sharingan trembled as he lifted his gaze toward the newcomer standing tall amidst the dust cloud.
The figure's features were concealed by the smoke. Cloaked in the lingering shadows of firelight and ash, they did not move.
Still.
Silent.
Watching.
Itachi's eyes narrowed, attempting to discern their identity, but the shadows refused to yield.
He coughed and forced himself up.
The masked man appeared beside him once more.
"That wasn't part of the plan," he muttered, voice tight with irritation.
Gojo stood where he had always been—fists relaxed, posture unchanged, but his presence filled the entire space. He hadn't even turned to look at his mysterious ally. He didn't need to.
"I told you," Gojo said coldly, his voice echoing like a blade drawn in the dark. "I'm not alone tonight."
Itachi clenched his jaw. He couldn't afford to be stalled any longer. Time was bleeding away—and so was his strength.
The masked man looked at Itachi for a moment, then back at Gojo and the unknown arrival.
"We finish this quickly," he said flatly.
He vanished.
Gojo's eye twitched as he sensed the sudden chakra flicker behind him.
The masked man aimed directly for the unknown figure.
But in the next instant—
Boom!
A shockwave blasted out again.
The masked man's body crashed against the wall of a compound building, a fresh crater forming where he struck. His cloak was torn at the shoulder.
He slowly stood, shaken. His one visible eye blinked once behind the mask.
Still, the mysterious figure remained unmoving.
Itachi finally took a cautious step forward, eyes locked between Gojo and the other person.
"Who is he?" he muttered under his breath. "Why is he… this strong?"
Gojo exhaled, his tone emotionless. "Strong enough to handle either of you. And smart enough to know when to strike."
Itachi's fist clenched.
His Sharingan pulsed violently. He couldn't hesitate any longer. Every second wasted meant more risk—not just to the plan, but to the twisted purpose he'd accepted.
He prepared hand signs.
Fire-style chakra gathered in his lungs.
Gojo didn't move. He simply said one word—
"Try."
A blast of searing flame erupted from Itachi's mouth.
Fire Style: Great Fireball Technique.
The ball of flame rushed forward, illuminating the night as it roared across the space.
But before it could reach its mark—
A wall of wood shot up, tall and thick, forming a perfect barrier between the fire and its targets.
The flames smashed into it and vanished in a puff of steam.
Gojo lowered his hand slowly.
Itachi's breath was sharp. "You're not just using brute strength…"
"I don't need to," Gojo replied. "You already know you're not walking away with victory tonight."
Behind him, the mysterious figure began to walk forward—just two steps, no more.
The sound of those steps echoed louder than any explosion.
The masked man was already back on his feet, cautious now. His voice was steady, but quieter than before.
"This is no longer an assassination," he muttered. "This is turning into a warfront."
"Leave," Gojo said firmly.
Neither man moved.
Gojo glanced toward Itachi—directly this time. "You want to talk about betrayal? This moment is the truth. You can't face your own clan. You're not their savior. You're just a murderer."
Itachi's lips parted, but no words came out.
His eyes dropped, flickering with something—pain, or doubt.
The masked man intervened sharply.
"We're done here."
With a final glance, he grabbed Itachi by the arm—and in a swirling vortex of space-time, they vanished.
The night grew still again.
The only thing left behind was smoke, ash, and the flicker of flames in the distance.
Gojo finally turned toward the figure standing silently behind him.
The two faced each other in the moonlight. One expressionless, the other unreadable in the lingering shadow.
"Good timing," Gojo said calmly.
The figure didn't answer.
Gojo exhaled through his nose, then turned away.
"Let's clean this up."
---
End of Chapter
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To be continued...
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