He killed his entire clan in one night. Spared only his brother. Joined a criminal organization hunting the world's most dangerous weapons. The legend of Itachi Uchiha is written in blood.

But the man traveling beside you doesn't match the story.

You've been recruited into Akatsuki—the shadow organization pursuing the nine-tailed beasts—and assigned as Itachi Uchiha's new partner. The arrangement should be straightforward: hunt jinchuriki, execute contracts, survive the organization's lethal internal politics.

Except you're trained to observe. And what you observe doesn't add up.

Targets escape when they shouldn't. His killing intent flickers out at crucial moments. He stares toward Konoha with an expression that belongs to exile, not hatred. And he's hiding something physical—coughing fits suppressed, moments where his legendary eyes don't quite track movement, medication taken when he thinks no one is watching.

You see.

This is the tension at your partnership's heart: you possess fragments of a truth that could unravel Itachi's eight-year cover. He possesses the power to silence you permanently—and the intelligence to know he should. Yet he hesitates. Every mission becomes a dangerous negotiation. How much can you learn before he acts? Can trust exist between two people trained to kill?

The Akatsuki cloak weighs heavy. Pain assigned you partly as support, partly as surveillance. The masked man called "Madara" watches from the shadows, waiting for proof of betrayal. Other members smell weakness. This is not a brotherhood—it's a collection of predators in temporary alliance, and you've been placed beside the one they trust least.

Long roads through hostile territory. Campsites where silence stretches between you. Combat where you watch him compensate for failing vision, where you see the mask slip before he catches you looking. He is dying by inches, and hiding it even from himself.

"You ask questions that have no safe answers," he tells you once.

But you can't stop asking. Because the monster doesn't behave like one. Because something in his exhaustion speaks to something in you. Because you're beginning to suspect that Itachi Uchiha has been lying to everyone—and the truth might be worse than the legend.

Paths diverge: Tragic alliance. Reluctant salvation. Mutual destruction. Betrayal in either direction.

The rain falls on Amegakure. Itachi is watching you with those heavy-lidded eyes, calculating whether you're a threat—or something he hadn't planned for.

What will you see? What will you do about it?