"What's wrong, Mr. Itachi?"
Kisame beside him asked, his voice laced with confusion. He followed Itachi's gaze, his expression puzzled.
What's with the boy standing at the door?
He doesn't look like anything special.
Why does Mr. Itachi look so tense?
"Is he someone you know?" Kisame asked, glancing back at the boy.
The young man at the door, his piercing pale blue eyes glowing faintly, stared back. A familiar smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"Yo, what a coincidence."
"Are you here for dessert too?"
Itachi's fingers clenched tighter, turning pale from the pressure.
He didn't respond to Satoru's words, his gaze frozen on the figure at the entrance.
This couldn't be real. Was it a hallucination?
He was staring at Satoru.
The shock of seeing him alive stole the breath from his lungs. For someone as practiced at masking his emotions—able to maintain perfect composure even in front of Sasuke—Itachi found himself shaken.
Memories of the past surged forward. The choices he had made. The betrayal. The loss.
Although Itachi did not regret the decisions that had led him here, the sight of Satoru reopened old wounds.
He had done what he believed was the best at the time. A compromise that would minimize casualties and preserve some semblance of honor for the Uchiha clan.
And yet, Satoru was alive.
The man who had once dreamed alongside him and Shisui.
Itachi's heart churned with emotions he could barely keep in check.
"Alright, your three-color dango!"
The dessert shop owner interrupted the moment, stepping toward Satoru with a small package in hand.
Satoru took the bag, his gaze flicking briefly to Itachi.
"So, plans change," Satoru muttered to himself, his eyes narrowing.
He knew what Itachi was thinking.
The man still believed his actions were justified. That his decisions had been the optimal solution.
Too arrogant. Too stubborn.
Satoru smirked coldly.
"Still clinging to your self-righteous ideals, huh?" he thought.
He was thankful Sasuke wasn't here. If he were, Itachi might have tried to impose his twisted logic on him again.
No one had the right to decide the lives of others—not even Itachi.
Satoru's pale blue eyes turned sharp, a steely resolve glinting within them.
"Uchiha... Satoru."
Itachi stepped forward, his voice hoarse as he uttered the name.
"You're still alive?"
His hands unclenched, trembling as his expression faltered for the briefest moment.
Satoru crossed his arms, his expression unreadable.
"How much do you want me to be alive?"
The words struck Itachi like a blow. His lips parted slightly, but no sound came. He turned away, his face blank, yet his shoulders heavy with unseen weight.
As he passed by, Satoru thought he caught the faintest whisper:
"How could I..."
Before Itachi could take another step, a shuriken flew past him, embedding itself in the ground ahead.
"I didn't say you could leave."
Itachi froze.
Satoru's demeanor shifted, the air around him growing heavy with palpable tension.
"Mr. Itachi, do you need me...?"
Kisame's voice broke the silence, his massive sword, Samehada, already drawn.
"No," Itachi replied, his tone measured but firm.
Satoru's gaze flicked between them, his smile widening.
"Two against one might be smarter," he said, his voice dripping with amusement. "Otherwise, this could get ugly."
Kisame's brows furrowed as he assessed Satoru. This man didn't just look dangerous—he was dangerous.
Without warning, Satoru moved.
He struck first, his speed so blinding that he left only an afterimage in his wake.
"Bang!"
A loud impact echoed as Satoru's fist connected with Itachi's torso.
"You still think you can dictate the lives of others?" Satoru said coldly. "How old are you? Grow up."
Itachi staggered but quickly regained his footing. His face was calm, yet his eyes betrayed a storm within.
"I'm glad to see you again," he said quietly.
Satoru's smile grew colder.
"Rejoice all you want. It's too early for that."
His voice carried an edge, a promise of retribution.
"Wait until you experience the Uchiha clan's collective fist of love," Satoru thought grimly.
Itachi took a step forward, but before he could act, Satoru disappeared.
He reappeared behind Itachi, grabbing him by the collar.
"Fun, isn't it?" Satoru said mockingly.
In a flash, the two vanished from the dessert shop, reappearing deep within the forest.
"This technique..."
Itachi's voice was low, his Sharingan spinning as he recognized the space-time ninjutsu.
It was him.
There was no longer any doubt.
The white-haired ninja and Uchiha Satoru were one and the same.
For the first time in years, Itachi felt a mix of emotions he could not suppress—relief, regret, and something else entirely.
Kisame, left standing alone at the shop, stared blankly at the spot where the two had vanished.
"What just happened?" he muttered, scratching his head.
That space-time technique... it was unmistakable.
"So that's Uchiha Satoru?" Kisame wondered, his confusion growing.
He glanced at the shopkeeper, who seemed equally bewildered.
"Looks like this is gonna get interesting."
>>>>>
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