Chapter 1
The night the Uchiha Clan fell, Itachi did something unforgivable. Not just the massacre—no, that had been unavoidable. That had been for the village, for peace, for Satsuki’s future.
The real sin was the lie.
It was simple, elegant in its cruelty. He left just enough evidence to muddy the truth, altered the scene so that when the ANBU arrived, they found only carnage with no clear culprit. There were no witnesses, no confessions, only a slaughter without a named butcher.
Itachi could see it in their eyes—their uncertainty, their horror. An entire clan, wiped out in a single night. The Sharingan of the fallen left unplucked, untouched, as if the killer had no interest in power, only death. A ghost, an avenger, a nameless nightmare.
And in the middle of it all, Itachi holding his little sister tightly.
A trembling girl of seven, her black hair wild and matted with the blood of their kin, her midnight eyes wide with confusion and grief. When the Hokage arrived, she clung to Itachi’s sleeve, the only thing familiar in a world that had been ripped apart.
He did not let her go.
He knelt, let his fingers card through her hair, whispered assurances in a voice only she could hear. He should have left. He had planned to leave. But looking at her, at his little sister, the one person he had always sworn to protect.
Itachi knew he couldn’t.
So he lied.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It wasn’t easy. The village whispered, speculated. But without a culprit, without a face to the horror, their paranoia turned outward. They feared the unknown. They feared the possibility of another attack. And in that uncertainty, Itachi buried himself deeper into Konoha’s ranks, ensuring that no one could ever come close to discovering the truth.
He remained a loyal shinobi. He remained the prodigy, the rising star of ANBU. He accepted every mission, followed every order. He made himself indispensable. A man who could never be questioned.
And through it all, he raised Satsuki.
She was quiet after that night, more withdrawn. She spoke little, trained harder. She wanted answers, and Itachi could see the storm building behind her dark eyes. But she trusted him. He was her brother, her guardian, the only family she had left. And he would do anything to keep it that way.
She never saw the blood on his hands. She never saw the bodies he left in the shadows, the enemies he erased before they could become threats. She never knew the lengths he went to keep her safe.
To keep her close.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
But children grow.
And Satsuki, brilliant and sharp as she was, began to suspect.
"Why did they never find the killer?" she asked one night, seated across from him at their small dining table. She was twelve now, nearly a genin, her voice steady but edged with something dangerous. "Why did they stop looking?"
Itachi paused, setting his tea down carefully. "Because there was never anything to find.”
“It doesn’t make sense. They should just let us handle it. We…”
“Suki.” It was a warning. Affectionate but unsettling.
She knew better than to push. For now.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
When Satsuki graduated, she was placed in a team. She made friends. She grew stronger. She spoke of goals, of revenge, of uncovering the truth of their clan’s fall.
Itachi felt the first string inside his heart being tugged on.
He had shielded her for so long. But he could not stop time.
And when she activated her Sharingan for the first time, when she looked at him with the same eyes as their father, their mother, their clan.
He knew she would never stop until she knew everything.
And the day she found out, Itachi isn’t sure if he could be brave enough to kill her.
So for now, he would lie for a little longer so that he can hold her just for a bit longer.