The Rising Storm

One month has passed since Ryuuji began his training,

The air in the Hokage's office hung heavy with the scent of burning tobacco. Hiruzen Sarutobi, the Third Hokage, exhaled slowly, the smoke curling around him like ghosts of past decisions. His weathered eyes, sharp but burdened with experience, scrutinized the ANBU operative kneeling before him. The weasel mask—ominous, white, with black markings—reflected a loyalty that was both an asset and a burden.

"And that's about it, Hokage-sama," the ANBU operative reported, his voice low but steady.

Hiruzen took another slow drag from his pipe, the ember glowing briefly in the dim room. "Good job, Weasel," he said, his voice grave yet calm. "Now, remove the mask."

The operative obeyed, the porcelain mask slipping off to reveal the face of Uchiha Itachi. His black hair, tied back in a neat ponytail, framed an expression that seemed carved from stone. His dark eyes, deep pools of sorrow and wisdom beyond his years, met Hiruzen's without flinching.

"Itachi," Hiruzen began, his tone softening but losing none of its authority, "what are your thoughts on the matter?"

Itachi's gaze was unwavering, but a flicker of sadness danced in his eyes. "It is true," he said, his voice as even as ever, yet tinged with a heavy weight. "The Uchiha Clan is planning a coup. The elders, including… my fa- Clan Leader Fugaku, have decided to act in a few months."

Hiruzen closed his eyes, the weight of the world pressing down on his aging shoulders. Silence stretched between them, heavy and oppressive. When he finally spoke, his voice was barely more than a whisper.

"I am… too old for this," he muttered, his hand rubbing his temples. The lines on his face deepened as if the burden of leadership had etched them in over time.

The room seemed to shrink around them, the gravity of the situation making every breath a labor.

"Thank you, Itachi," Hiruzen finally said, forcing himself back into the role he could never escape.

"I expect weekly reports. If something urgent arises, inform me immediately. Your efforts are… invaluable."

Itachi bowed his head, the motion mechanical yet respectful. "Yes, Hokage-sama." Without another word, he wore his mask and disappeared, a shadow swallowed by the dimly lit corridors of power.

Hiruzen stared at the door long after Itachi had gone. "The Will of Fire," he murmured to himself, the words sounding hollow. "How fortunate I was to instill it in Shisui… and now Itachi."

'It's too bad I couldn't do the same with that boy Uchiha Ryuuji. But, that's to be expected. Jima became cautious ever since he found out just how loyal Shisui became to the village. There's know way he'd let it happen to his second grandson too. However, the son of Fugaku is still in the Academy. I should focus on making him loyal to me- I mean the village.' Hiruzen thought to himself.

***

The tension in the Uchiha council chamber was palpable, a silent storm brewing beneath the surface. Candles flickered, casting elongated shadows of the clan elders on the stone walls, their faces etched with worry and frustration.

"This is a disaster!" Elder Taiji slammed his fist on the table, his voice a thunderclap in the confined space. "Where is Elder Jima!?"

"Exactly!" Elder Arata echoed, his voice high with panic. "Without him, our plans are in jeopardy!"

Murmurs rippled through the room. Another elder, his voice barely above a whisper, ventured, "Perhaps… it's for the best. Jima-san was always against the coup." His words went unheard, lost in the cacophony of rising voices.

"We need every ounce of strength!" Another elder stood, his eyes blazing with conviction. "The corrupt leaders of Konoha won't fall without a fight!"

"Enough!" Fugaku's voice cut through the chaos like a blade. The room fell into a tense silence. All eyes turned to him—the Clan Leader, a figure of authority, power, and, in this room, hope.

Fugaku's gaze shifted to his eldest son. "Itachi," he said, his voice measured but commanding, "what of the Hokage and the council? Do they know of our plans?"

Itachi, standing silently in the corner, lifted his head. His expression remained unreadable, a perfect mask. "No," he said, the lie slipping from his lips like a whisper. "They remain unaware."

A collective sigh of relief filled the room. They trusted Itachi implicitly—after all, he was Fugaku's son, their prodigy. Who could suspect the quiet betrayal hidden behind those dark eyes?

'Forgive me,' Itachi thought, a flicker of guilt gnawing at the edges of his resolve. 'The village must come first... always.'

Fugaku nodded, his face set in grim determination. "Good. We wait for Jima's return. If he does not come back, we proceed without him. Dismissed."

The council dispersed, each member weighed down by the decisions that would shape their destiny.

***

Outside Konoha,

Inside a dense forest, two figures stood facing each other in the clearing, their breath visible in the cool night air.

"And that's what happened," Itachi finished, his voice low.

The masked man across from him tilted his head, the red glow of his Sharingan visible through the eye hole of his mask. "I see," he said, his voice a purr of menace. "Itachi, what do you truly wish to protect? The village… or the clan?"

Itachi's eyes hardened. "I want to—"

"You can't have both." The masked man's voice cut through him like a blade.

The silence stretched, heavy and unforgiving. Finally, Itachi spoke, each word a struggle. "The village. I want to protect the village."

The masked man's lips curled beneath the mask. "Good choice." His tone was mockingly congratulatory. "But your brother… what about Sasuke?"

A spark of fire ignited in Itachi's eyes. "Leave Sasuke out of this. Otherwise…" His Sharingan spun, three tomoe burning with deadly promise.

The masked man chuckled, a low, dangerous sound. "Fine. Your brother will remain untouched. But will your Hokage keep his word?"

"He will," Itachi said, his voice firm with conviction.

The man's laugh was almost pitying. "You have much to learn about the world, Itachi."

As the figure melted into the shadows, Itachi remained standing, alone under the canopy of stars, each one a distant, unreachable hope.

In the stillness, the weight of his choice pressed down on him like the night sky itself. And in the distance, the storm clouds of betrayal gathered, ready to unleash their fury.

***

Hey guys! Author here! I've got some bad news. Yesterday, at dawn around 4 am a thief broke in and robbed my house. The thief stole goods worth over $1200. My laptop which I use to write has also been stolen among many other things. So, unfortunately I don't have enough cash to buy another. Hence, the update of chapters will be slowed. I'm sorry for the inconvenience. Please pray for me.