I'M NARUTO UZUMAKI

Towards Divergence

"I'm still young, and I still have room to grow. Maybe one day, I'll destroy the moon with a Rasengan mishap. Don't underestimate the strength of a shinobi still in his prime."

Naruto Uzumaki voiced his thoughts in a half-joking tone, but the determination in his eyes was unmistakable.

The moon in the shinobi world was not as vast as Earth's, being only slightly larger than the Land of Fire's capital. It was not a natural celestial body but a construct formed centuries ago by Hamura Ōtsutsuki's descendants to seal away Kaguya Ōtsutsuki, the progenitor of chakra.

Kurama narrowed his crimson eyes in disdain. The very idea of Naruto obliterating the moon was absurd.

Yet, with his chakra fueling Naruto's growth, Kurama knew it was only a matter of time before this boy surpassed Hashirama Senju and Madara Uchiha—the legendary warriors clad in red armor who once stood at the pinnacle of power.

With that thought, the Nine-Tails let out a low, rumbling exhale, his irritation subsiding. "The pursuers have been dealt with," he said. "Let's leave now and enjoy the spectacle of Konoha's power struggle from afar."

"But before that—"

Naruto suddenly sensed a surge of hostility. Instinct took over, and he slammed a Rasengan into the ground.

The spiraling sphere of chakra carved a deep crater, revealing a lifeless, pale-skinned humanoid figure at its center—its eerie white features frozen in an expressionless state.

Kurama frowned, his heightened senses detecting movement beyond the range of normal shinobi. "More pursuers?"

Naruto examined the corpse, recognizing it instantly. "No, this isn't from Konoha. It's a White Zetsu…a synthetic being, not truly human. This means there's an external force at play."

"Not quite human…" Kurama mused, dredging up ancient memories of the Sage of Six Paths' era.

Naruto stowed the White Zetsu's body away. As an artificial lifeform created from the husk of the God Tree, its biological structure bore similarities to Hashirama's cells. Even if he had no immediate use for it, he knew certain figures in the ninja world—like Orochimaru or Danzo—would pay a hefty price for such a specimen.

The Nine-Tails, recalling the origins of White Zetsu, muttered to himself, "A creation of the Ten-Tails…something I heard of as a cub from the old man."

White Zetsu should have disappeared millennia ago. So why had they resurfaced?

As Naruto and Kurama contemplated this mystery, neither noticed that the intricate seals binding Kurama within Naruto were subtly weakening. The once-pristine kanji on the paper talismans had begun to peel away.

---

The Uchiha Compound

Under the pale moonlight, Itachi Uchiha and Shisui Uchiha clashed at speeds too fast for the average Sharingan wielder to follow. Their movements were so precise and fluid that even their fellow Uchiha could barely track their battle.

For the ordinary Uchiha shinobi, this was not a fight they could hope to interfere in. Even if they joined the fray, it was unclear whether they would assist Shisui—or simply become another burden.

Taking advantage of the distraction, Uchiha Izumi slipped over a wall and entered the clan leader's residence.

The coppery scent of blood filled the air.

Her breath hitched as her gaze fell upon the bodies of Fugaku Uchiha and Mikoto Uchiha lying in a crimson pool.

Itachi… had killed them.

She had once admired Itachi, believing him to be a protector of both the clan and the village. During the Nine-Tails' attack years ago, he had saved her and her mother. At the Academy, though emotionally reserved, he had quietly looked after his classmates. Even after becoming a genin, he had spoken of protecting both the Uchiha and Konoha.

So when did he become this monster—this merciless executioner of his own family?

Izumi's mind reeled. Her Sharingan spun violently, the tomoe threatening to coalesce into something greater. Yet, as if hesitating to fully awaken, her eyes returned to their original three-tomoe state.

But then—did Mikoto just twitch her fingers?

A flicker of hope surged through Izumi. Crouching beside the woman, she frantically channeled medical chakra into her wounds.

Mikoto's complexion improved, but Izumi knew the truth—this was only a temporary reprieve. Without proper medical attention, Mikoto had mere hours left.

And yet, Konoha's hospital was out of the question. Turning to the village's higher-ups would only be akin to offering themselves up for execution.

With gritted teeth, Izumi checked Fugaku's body. The Uchiha patriarch had been slain instantly, a kunai embedded in his heart. Yet despite his brutal end, his face bore a faint, knowing smile.

A father's acceptance of his son's blade?

Izumi could not understand.

As she closed Fugaku's lifeless eyes, she resolved to find Sasuke. If Itachi had spared his younger brother, then she needed to get him out of here.

At that moment, the Uchiha police force arrived. Spotting Mikoto in Izumi's arms, one of them gasped, "Lady Mikoto is still alive?!"

"She is, but only barely," Izumi said hurriedly. "Are there any skilled medics among us?"

The officer hesitated. "We had one, but they were relocated earlier tonight…"

"Relocated? Then Aunt Mikoto—"

Izumi's fragile composure cracked. She had already lost her mother in the chaos of the clan's downfall. She refused to lose another familiar face.

A nearby Uchiha glanced at Fugaku's corpse and sighed. "We should leave while we still can. If we escape now, Lady Mikoto may still have a chance."

"But what about Shisui?" Izumi countered. "If we abandon him—"

"Shisui has the Mangekyō Sharingan. He can handle Itachi. We have to trust him."

Reluctantly, Izumi nodded and followed the retreating officers, sparing one last glance at Itachi. She etched his face into her memory.

No matter his reasons, she would never forgive him.

---

The Duel of Shadows

Kunai clashed in midair, sparks scattering as Itachi and Shisui met each other's gazes, both refusing to cast genjutsu just yet.

Their movements were familiar, honed over years of sparring. But this was different—this battle was to the death.

Perched atop a stone lantern, Itachi exhaled. "Shisui, I'm glad you're alive. But you're too late. I've already chosen my path."

"If you continue to stand in my way… I will kill you."

Shisui snorted. There was no point in trying to change Itachi's mind now.

But he hadn't come here for persuasion—only to buy time for their fleeing clanmates.

Before he could launch another attack, a blinding flash illuminated the night sky.

Then the earth trembled.

Both Uchiha warriors froze.

Tonight was supposed to be the Uchiha's coup. What was happening outside the village? Was another force invading?

Shisui felt a flicker of hope. If chaos broke out across Konoha, the clan's chances of escaping would drastically improve.

Itachi, however, scowled.

Too many unexpected variables. Shisui's return. This external attack. And somewhere, the masked man who had orchestrated it all.

If this was his doing… was the Jinchūriki safe?

Shisui seized the distraction, teleporting behind Itachi. His blade struck—

But Itachi vanished into a flock of crows.

He was heading toward the outskirts.

Shisui didn't give chase. He wasn't confident in defeating Itachi outright.

Instead, he turned his focus to the clan's retreat.

Watching Itachi's retreating figure, Shisui sighed.

They had once been inseparable comrades.

But the next time they met…

One of them would have to die.

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