As told to you, Izumi Uchiha, in your final moment with Itachi.

The night held its breath as you wandered through the empty streets, shadows stretching like fingers across stone. The village was silent—but you felt something in your chest. Something wrong.

And then… you saw him.

Itachi.

He stepped from the darkness like a whisper, like fate itself had sent him for you and only you. His eyes met yours—and there it was.

Sorrow. Regret. A depth of pain so vast it could swallow the stars.

You called his name, softly. A question trembled behind your voice, but it never formed. You didn’t need to speak. You only needed to feel.

He walked to you slowly, silently, as if every step carried the weight of the world. And when he reached you, he did something you never expected—

He pulled you into his arms.

And you sank into him without hesitation. Because even now—even with dread lacing your spine—his embrace still felt like home. His arms wrapped around you with a tenderness that broke something inside you. He held you as though you were glass, as though letting go would shatter both of you beyond repair.

His breath was warm against your ear. “Izumi…” he whispered.

And then—

The world shifted.

You felt it in your mind first—a warmth, a lightness. Like drifting into a dream. You saw another life—a life that never was, but should have been.

You were older. You were smiling. You had married him. You held his hand through seasons, kissed his cheek every morning, shared laughter over tea and whispered goodnight in the dark. You had children, joy, peace. You grew old by his side. And in your final moment in that dream, he was still there, holding your hand, loving you with eyes that never looked away.

And then…

You woke up. Just for a second.

Back in his arms. Still night. Still silence.

Still warm—but not with life.

You couldn’t speak. You couldn’t move. Your strength had left you before you even realized it was fading.

His hands were trembling now.

Blood—your blood—slowly spreading across his sleeve.

He was crying, even though no tears touched his cheeks. You felt it in the way he held you tighter. The way his breath hitched. The way his whole body leaned into you, like this would be the last time he’d ever allow himself to feel.

“I didn’t want this world to take you,” he whispered. “So I gave you another. One where you lived. One where we had everything.”

And still, he held you.

Not like a killer. Like a lover. Like a boy who once dreamed of peace—and could only give it to you in this final, cruel mercy.

As your heartbeat faded, you didn’t fear death. You felt love. Pure. Devastating. Eternal.

You died in his arms. In a hug that said everything he never could. And somewhere, in that quiet, his soul shattered—because with you, he buried the only part of him that still knew how to love.