cluster amaryllis

"(Naruto) The Flower of the Other Side" Author: Atta danheta

Copywriter:

Everything that Itachi desires in his dream will be realized in the distant future.

On the road to the distant future, it is covered with blood.What flows behind him is the blood of the whole family, and one day in the future, he will be killed by a Uchiha child, and use his own blood to stain the road in front of him red.

On that bloody road, he was alone.

At the end of the road, there is the dead man and the red flower that was born on the other side.

waiting for him.

Content tag: soul transformation

[Weasel/+Zhishui] "Flowers from the Other Shore" (Complete)

Itachi occasionally had such thoughts after leaving Konoha.

If only I could leave later.

These simple words sounded more ironic than the things he longed for when he was young.

So that small voice only occasionally popped out from the overlapping dim past, making a weak noise, and then it was quickly and ruthlessly extinguished.

Leaving is leaving after all.Up to now, in his heart, nothing can be redeemed.

Even in the world of monthly reading.

It's just that with the passage of time, the isolated Akatsuki and Konoha's breathless world are gradually overlapping.

It became equally unbearable to him.

These things happened slowly, like the past that was lost without knowing it, like the colors in his memories that were gradually dimming.

Akatsuki has a labyrinth of corridors.Those wooden floors exude a silent smell in the air, and when someone passes by, they squeak slightly, and the weak creaking sound seems to crawl in the dust for fear of disturbing something.

There are no lighting candles or pine knots in the corridor, because there has been a fire before, and all small factors that can cause a fire have been completely eliminated.

If you come back at noon or before the sunset, the pale pine texture on the corridor still reflects the soft orange light, moving slowly, slowly falling into the dark corner, and then falling down.

This little world is no different from the one outside.

It will be dark, and it will be night, and when it is night, there will be moonlight.

Although the estranged white moonlight can illuminate the maze-like corridors, it also illuminates the place where the night should rest.

Every time after completing the task, he has to go through the labyrinth-like corridor. Sometimes he even has a strange illusion, as if the wooden wall exuding a stale smell will collapse in an instant like broken sand. It will rot and cannot stand being trampled on, but Akatsuki's people never seem to get lost, and by the way, forget about the darkness of this corridor.

He had never heard other people complain about the residence, so he was silent.

Akatsuki, who took in those S-level escapees, always took some weird and unspeakable missions from the daimyos of various countries, and followed the instructions to complete those missions. The first thing he did after returning was the same as everyone else. The leader reports on the completion of the task.

Only after the report is completed can we return to the small Japanese room.

It's just that there is actually nothing in the six-seat wide room, even with his eyes closed, he can walk back completely. Sharingan seems to be used like a toy at this time.

He walked straight over in the heavy darkness, stopped in his own room, then opened the paper door indiscriminately and walked in.

He just sat cross-legged in the middle of the room, quietly looking out of the paper door.

Every time I come back from a mission, my clothes always have a strange smell.

The smell of damp moisture, the smell of grass cut by kunai, the faint smell of rusty metal, and occasionally the smell of fresh blood, he will inevitably be careless sometimes.

When the moonlight can be seen, the transparent brightness in the room is so strange that it makes people frightened.

In early autumn, the night dew was heavy in the valley, and when the paper door was opened wide, the night wind brought a sad chill into the small Japanese room, and he sat there quietly until the smell on his body was as cold as the night.

After staying in Akatsuki for less than a year, he began to feel tired in winter, but thinking about his age carefully, it seemed that he was not old enough to be called old.

It was probably at that time that the leader asked him to partner with Kisame.

Kisame seems to have inexhaustible strength, no matter what task he is eager to try. Although Itachi doesn't like his enthusiasm for killing, but after weighing the pros and cons, he chose the cooperation method of standing on the sidelines when Kisame makes a move. At the same time quietly shut up.

He always felt that something in his body was slowly aging, and he couldn't even hear his breathing quietly.

Whenever he returned to that small Japanese room, he would close his eyes and feel like he had fallen into an illusion of who he didn't know.

Those dry and desolate forces like weeds spread layer by layer from the dark red world, swaying with the wind madly and confusingly, they were strange and powerful forces, barren and hungry forces.

The day he was waiting for seemed so far away, but sometimes he worried that he would die of old age before that moment.

Covered by the corpse of the red flower on the dark red wasteland, he died dry and confused.

I remember once he asked Kisame like this, "If you don't mind, I would like to ask why you came to Akatsuki."

The good and strict education of the Uchiha family is still imprinted on him, Kisame waved his hand casually and said not to be so polite.

He didn't move his eyebrows, waiting for the man's answer.

"...Maybe...I want to see how good I am." The profile of the man standing in front of him with folded arms looks familiar and confusing.

That was a familiar answer, but how much of that answer came from the heart is an unknown secret.

But he didn't expect that this conversation aroused the man's curiosity that he hadn't expressed before, and Kisame asked him nonchalantly, "I heard you killed someone to get these eyes?"

When the man in Kirigakure asked this question, he didn't hesitate at all. Later, he tried hard to recall the scene at that time. It seemed that Kisame's blue eyes were not only filled with curiosity, but the kind that was too obvious. His self-righteousness was so strong it almost made him uncomfortable.

That's exactly what he told Sasuke.

It was he who killed Zhishui.

On the night when Uchiha exterminated the clan, in the illusion created by himself, in the blood-red moon reading space.

He seems to have only said that to Sasuke, right?He didn't remember that he had said the same thing to anyone else, and the memory in his brain was confused with the monthly reading space he made by himself.

Those blue eyes gradually approached him, like a hungry wolf approaching its prey step by step, the ferocious and innocent smile became more and more clear on that ferocious face.

"Who did you listen to?" He stood there motionless, not retreating at all.

"Oh, it's rumored from your village." Guixie took it for granted.

The muddy memories in my mind suddenly became clear.Those elders who came to question the cause of Zhishui's death, as well as his father's self-righteous oath.

And Sasuke's terrified face in the shadow of the paper wall.

"Oh." He replied indifferently.

"Did you kill it? That...what's it called?" Guixiong scratched his face.

"Shisui, Uchiha Shisui." He glanced at Kisame's hand and replied calmly. "He fell into the river and drowned."

Kisame laughed out loud, probably thinking that she was lying to him.

"Then how did you get those eyes?"

He raised his head, and said to the man seriously, word by word: "I used Sharingan on him."

The conversation ended as he expected.It's just that the expression on Kisame's face was not what I expected, which made him think for a while, but it ended quietly after all.

He has been used to being far away from others since before.

Even if he was about to die, he would not hold the hand extended by others.

This is a stubborn bad habit, but it is a pity that Konoha, who has strict clan rules, can't correct it, so this skewed branch stretches out more happily and unscrupulously in Xiao.

He was not very popular with his tribe since he was a child. Although he didn't notice it at first, he gradually discovered the difference between being friendly and respectful, and the difference between laughing and messing up a child's hair and being serious.

After all, these are not subtle surprises.

But unfortunately, apart from his ninjutsu genius, he is just a dull kid.

He walks quietly among the crowd, brings glory and pride to the family indifferently, participates in tasks and actions that do not match his age, and is so silent that people almost forget his real age.

At that time, he was the only child of his parents. The silence and quietness that did not belong to five-year-old children made his parents discourage him. Among his peers, he could not see any friends worth making friends with. The seniors and elders would only say some high-sounding and lifeless words. Every time he passed by those people, he could smell the decaying atmosphere, which made him want to walk around quickly.

But there are always times when you can't get around, so there was one time, the short-haired man who stood aside respectfully and didn't know what the old people were talking about grabbed his arm, smiled and said to him: "See you!" The elders want to say hello.

The same round fan logo was imprinted ugly and stiff on the back of the man's heart. If he aimed at that position and pierced it, he would be killed immediately.

He thought for a while, let go of his clenched fist, apologized lightly, said hello, and left.