Itachi's limbs shook as he pushed himself up. Again, he reminded himself, this was a world where power was everything. If he was going to answer the head of the clan, he would at least need to face him. And if he didn't dare say it, he'd better show it.

The eyes shifted again, the pinwheel pattern spreading from the three familiar tomoe. He looked Tajima in the eyes, and focused his chakra.

He had very little to spare.

What followed was a quick series of red-on-black illusions that put the head of the clan in Shisui's body, tearing out his own eye before being hurled to his death to drown in the murky water below. There were crows. There were tears. There was a little boy frightened of a strange sharingan.

And then there was nothing.