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[NUT] Chapter : 11
🕑 Added 2025-05-27 16:56:55 +0000 UTCAfter watching Itachi finish dealing with the corpse, Juzo stood silently, a conflicted look on his face. He seemed to want to say something, but hesitated, unsure how to begin.
"How did you figure it out?" he finally asked, his voice calm, almost casual—an attempt to mask his confusion.
Itachi, still toying with the discarded human-skin mask, glanced over in mild surprise.
"Didn’t I already explain?"
"Not clearly," Juzo muttered. "I’m curious... spell it out."
"It was simple—just luck. He looked guilty the moment I suspected him."
Itachi tossed the scroll containing the severed head to Juzo and spoke with quiet seriousness.
"You mean you only suspected him? And then bluffed your way through?"
Juzo’s frown deepened. The whole thing puzzled him. They had barely begun following the villager before Itachi suddenly turned back.
"That’s about right," Itachi replied, walking toward the house. "At first, I didn’t suspect him at all. But then I noticed the person who ran to tip him off—it didn’t feel right. Something about his behavior was off. Too frantic, too obvious. It didn’t add up."
"So you changed your plan?"
"Exactly. I flipped the whole perspective: 'If I were the target, how would I act?'"
"But how was it irrational? The guy seemed in a hurry, like any informant would be," Juzo asked, struggling to keep up.
Itachi paused briefly. "That’s the point. It was too hurried. It was dusk, not the dead of night—far from ideal if you’re trying to sneak around. Plus, this village is isolated. Why run up a mountain and become a hermit when you could blend in?"
He pushed open the door and stepped inside, scanning the interior as Juzo followed.
"And then?" Juzo prodded, curiosity bubbling like an old woman gossiping.
"So I asked myself again: if I were him, I’d want to live comfortably. A fugitive with money and ego wouldn’t shack up in a rickety hut. That’s when I remembered the big man with the only courtyard house in the village. A little too convenient, don’t you think?"
"And the rest?"
"Some of it was hindsight," Itachi said as his Sharingan swept the room. "But that’s the thing about power—it crushes clever tricks. Once I had a sliver of doubt, the rest unraveled easily."
"Ugh, the more you talk, the more cryptic it sounds," Juzo muttered. "Some of it makes sense, but the rest is just smoke. No wonder I couldn’t piece it together."
Still, his frustration faded. He didn’t mind feeling a little lost—so long as he was learning something.
"Everyone works differently," Itachi said gently. "You just haven’t found your way yet. You’re used to staying in the shadows, avoiding unnecessary trouble. But when you snap… you don’t hold back."
"Heh, you’re not wrong," Juzo chuckled. "Our organization’s got big plans, but we’re not ready to make waves yet. Until then, we stay quiet. But if someone pushes me too far, I won’t hesitate. I’d wipe out the whole village if I had to. It’s so remote, no one would even notice."
He scratched his head with a casual grin, his words cold despite the smile.
They were both rogue shinobi, after all—men for whom violence was second nature, and restraint merely a choice of convenience.
Inside, Itachi found nothing of value. The lack of discovery left him faintly disappointed. Half the thrill of bounty hunting was the chance of reward—and today, the chest was empty.
"Should we stay here for the night or head to the exchange office tomorrow?" Juzo asked as Itachi stopped searching.
"No," Itachi said softly, eyes drifting toward the rooftops where chimney smoke curled lazily into the sky. "Let’s not disturb the peace. Civilians in this world already suffer enough."
Juzo nodded without protest.
"Fair enough."
As Itachi had said, there was no reason to disrupt the lives of the innocent—at least, not when they didn’t stand in the way.
A narrow road stretched ahead, pitted with potholes and uneven earth.
Juzo walked in front, Itachi trailing silently behind him.
With nothing else to occupy his mind, memories of Sasuke surfaced again and again in Itachi’s thoughts. It was almost automatic—etched into his instincts.
Sometimes, instinct and habit can be the most dangerous things of all.
“Wait for me,” Itachi murmured softly, as if speaking to a ghost. “Soon, I’ll take you away from all this… to somewhere free and peaceful.”
He pictured himself walking through Konoha at dusk, carrying Sasuke on his back. The image was gentle, almost poetic—but tinged with a quiet sorrow.
They walked in silence for some time.
Then, without turning, Juzo asked in a low voice, “What are you good at?”
“Hm?” Itachi looked up, a little surprised by the sudden question.
“Relax,” Juzo said, sensing the confusion in his tone. “Just thought it’d be better to know each other’s strengths. Makes coordination easier when we fight.”
Itachi paused briefly, then replied in his usual calm voice, “I’ll charge in directly. You watch my back.”
That was modest, but not inaccurate.
Itachi was a rare all-rounder. He could manipulate five chakra types. Genjutsu techniques were his greatest strength. His precision with thrown weapons was unmatched, and while he wasn’t a powerhouse in hand-to-hand combat, his Sharingan made him formidable—outclassed only by someone like Might Guy in close quarters.
He could perform ninjutsu with just one hand—a skill that let him cast faster than most could form their seals.
So yes, technically, he could do it all. But he had no interest in bragging.
He kept things understated—just like always.
Night eventually blanketed the landscape.
Having completed their mission, the two didn’t bother traveling through the dark. Instead, they found a quiet place to rest.
They took turns on watch—Juzo for the first half of the night, Itachi for the second.
Juzo sat by the fire, watching the flames dance and crackle. Occasionally, the rustling of animals or birds echoed from the woods around them.
Itachi leaned against the base of a large tree, eyes closed, conserving his energy.
Soon, the soft sound of snoring broke through the quiet.
Juzo glanced over.
Itachi’s face, still youthful and serene in the firelight, looked almost peaceful in sleep.
Juzo’s expression softened.
The fact that Itachi could fall asleep so quickly—and so deeply—meant something. He wasn’t on edge. He wasn’t suspicious.
He trusted Juzo.
And being trusted like that… it was a rare and comforting feeling. The kind that offered quiet affirmation—proof that you were seen, understood, and relied upon.
Even for hardened men like them… that mattered.
—
"Sasuke-kun, have you gotten used to living here with Grandpa?"
In the courtyard, Sasuke trained with unwavering focus, his movements precise as he practiced his taijutsu.
Standing nearby with his hands folded behind his back, Sarutobi Hiruzen—the Third Hokage—watched the boy with a gentle expression.
“Thank you for taking care of me, Grandpa Hokage,” Sasuke said respectfully, pausing his training. He bowed deeply, gratitude clear in his voice.
Despite his heavy responsibilities as Hokage, this kind-hearted old man made time each day to guide him. That simple gesture moved Sasuke deeply.
And the quiet, stable environment helped. It was far better than staying in the hollow remnants of the Uchiha compound, haunted by memories that threatened to drive him mad.
“You’re a good boy,” Sarutobi said, resting a warm hand on Sasuke’s head. “Just call me Grandpa. I’ll teach you everything I know… help you rebuild the Uchiha clan and carry its name forward with pride.”
The pipe between his lips didn’t even budge as he spoke—an odd but endearing sight.
Sasuke felt a rush of emotion at the words, but kept his face calm. After a long pause, he responded softly, “Thank you, Grandpa. I promise I’ll work hard.”
He didn’t fear judgment or disdain—but when people showed him kindness, he often didn’t know how to respond. Even at seven years old, he was already learning to see through people.
And Sarutobi, he sensed, truly meant well.
“We’ll have dinner together tonight,” Sarutobi said as he prepared to leave. “Grandpa has to head back to work now.”
Sasuke’s expression barely changed, but when Sarutobi vanished, he stood silently for a moment in the quiet courtyard.
Then, without a word, he resumed his training.
