The air in the courtroom was thick with tension. Lawyers murmured among themselves, journalists scribbled furiously in their notepads, and the judge tapped a firm hand against his bench, calling for order. The defense had been hammering at ARI's credibility for the last hour, but now it was Sasuke's turn to strike back.
Sasuke stood, straightening his tie. "Your Honor, I have a witness willing to testify on the embezzled funds that were funneled through shell corporations tied to Hanzo's non-profit organization."
A murmur rippled through the courtroom. Across the room, Kabuto Yakushi, the defense attorney, smirked, but Sasuke ignored him. The bailiff opened the side door, and Hanzo stepped in, walking up to the witness stand with a slow, deliberate gait.
Sasuke met his eyes as Hanzo took the oath. Something about the way Hanzo sat—relaxed, unbothered—pricked at Sasuke's instincts.
"Mr. Hanzo," Sasuke began, voice firm. "Is it true that you were aware of the financial misappropriation occurring within your non-profit?"
Hanzo sighed dramatically. "It is true that I was made aware, but under circumstances far different than you claim, Mr. Uchiha."
Sasuke frowned. "Clarify."
Hanzo looked at the judge, then at the jury, and then—finally—at Sasuke. "You see, this young man came to me not to seek the truth, but to force one."
A wave of murmurs rippled through the courtroom.
"He threatened me," Hanzo continued, his voice heavy with disappointment. "Told me that if I didn't testify the way he wanted, he'd take targeted legal action against my non-profit. He said that if I refused, he would ruin me."
Sasuke's jaw tightened. "That's a lie."
Hanzo shook his head, giving a tired chuckle. "Is it?"
The judge rapped his gavel. "Mr. Uchiha, control yourself."
Sasuke inhaled sharply, steadying himself. "Then let's put this to rest right now."
He turned to the bailiff. "Your Honor, I have in my possession the Elysium Files—a complete breakdown of the embezzled funds, the shell companies, and the payments tied directly to Hanzo's organization. This evidence disproves his claims and exposes the corruption at the highest levels."
Sasuke grabbed his files from the table and stepped forward, prepared to lay everything out—only for Kabuto to rise smoothly from his seat.
"Objection, Your Honor," Kabuto said, a casual smirk playing on his lips. "These documents are fabricated."
The words sent a cold chill through Sasuke. "What?"
Kabuto gestured to the files in Sasuke's hand. "The Elysium Files? Nonexistent. These documents were never submitted into evidence, and the copies in your possession are forgeries."
"That's not possible." Sasuke's heart pounded. He turned to the court clerk. "Check the official records. The Elysium Files were submitted during discovery."
The clerk frowned and quickly scanned her database. She shook her head. "I'm sorry, Mr. Uchiha, but there's no record of those files ever being filed as evidence."
A cold weight settled in Sasuke's stomach. He could feel the eyes of the courtroom turning toward him, the murmurs rising again, the creeping sense of something being horribly wrong.
"That's impossible," Sasuke muttered under his breath. He turned back to the judge. "Your Honor, there has to be some kind of mistake. I submitted these files myself."
The judge regarded him coolly. "Mr. Uchiha, are you claiming the court system has lost your evidence?"
Sasuke's grip on the papers tightened. No—this was more than just a clerical error. This was deliberate.
Kabuto gave him a mock-sympathetic look. "Your Honor, perhaps Mr. Uchiha is confused. After all, no one remembers these files existing, do they?"
Sasuke's stomach twisted. No one?
He turned sharply to his co-counsel. Nothing. The judge? Indifferent. The reporters? Scribbling, but not outraged.
This wasn't just about deleting evidence—they were erasing history itself.
But he had planned for this. He still had a trump card.
Sasuke turned sharply and locked eyes with Itachi.
His brother sat in the front row, unreadable as always. Sasuke exhaled, regaining control. He strode over, lowering his voice just enough so only Itachi could hear.
"Itachi," Sasuke said. "The physical copies. The ones I gave you. Give them to me."
Itachi tilted his head. "What are you talking about?"
Sasuke's eyes narrowed. "The briefcase I gave you, the one with the hard evidence. The one I entrusted to you in case something like this happened."
Itachi blinked once. "You never gave me any such thing."
The words hit Sasuke like a sledgehammer. His breath caught in his throat.
"What?" His voice came out strangled.
Itachi's expression remained impassive. "I don't have what you're asking for."
Sasuke's heart thundered in his ears. "You're lying."
But Itachi's face remained perfectly composed. The judge called for order again, and Sasuke knew—he had nothing left.
He had been played. By everyone.
A soft, satisfied exhale came from Kabuto's side of the room.
"Your Honor," Kabuto said smoothly, standing again. "At this point, it's clear Mr. Uchiha has no legitimate evidence to support his claims. If this is all he has, I motion for this case to be dismissed due to lack of credible proof." The courtroom spun. The whispers grew louder, the weight of a thousand gazes pressing down on Sasuke's back.
He had prepared. He had taken precautions. He had planned for everything—except for this.
"Sasuke Uchiha," the judge's voice cut through the noise, "I will adjourn for today. But if you cannot provide real, admissible evidence by the next hearing, I will be forced to rule accordingly."
The gavel struck.
Sasuke didn't move. He stood there, silent, as the courtroom began to empty, as journalists left to report on his "fabricated evidence," as whispers of his humiliation spread like wildfire.
And across the room, Itachi watched him. Silent. Unwavering.
Sasuke had never felt so alone.
Fugaku's office was tense, the air thick with disappointment. He stood behind his desk, arms crossed, his expression a mask of controlled fury.
"You've made an absolute mockery of this firm," Fugaku said, his voice low but sharp. "Do you even comprehend the damage you've done? The name of Uchiha Inc. dragged through the mud because of your reckless ambition."
Sasuke stood in front of the desk, silent. He wasn't looking at his father—his eyes were fixed on Itachi, standing to the side. Itachi, who had betrayed him in court. Itachi, who had lied. His older brother wouldn't meet his gaze. There was a flicker of something on his face—guilt, maybe—but it was buried under that unreadable calm he always wore.
Sasuke clenched his fists, nails digging into his palms. He wanted an explanation. He wanted a reason. But most of all, he wanted to hit something.
Then the door opened.
"Apologies for the intrusion," Kabuto said smoothly as he stepped inside, his glasses glinting under the office lights.
Fugaku's frown deepened. "How did you get in here?"
Kabuto smiled, as if the question amused him. "Does it matter?" He took another step forward, folding his hands in front of him. "What matters is why I'm here."
Fugaku's eyes narrowed, but he didn't press. "Then speak."
"I'm here to offer a deal," Kabuto said, voice casual. "Let's keep this simple. We don't want more eyes on us than there already are. So, here's what I propose: You let this case go. Drop ARI as a client. And, in return, we'll settle everything—no counteraction, no money lost. This entire mess disappears."
Sasuke's breath hitched. He knew there was more. And sure enough, Kabuto's smile widened.
"I only ask for two things." He turned to Fugaku. "First, Sasuke is fired from this firm. You'll announce that he took this case without authorization, against your wishes. That he acted recklessly, and this firm does not stand behind his choices."
Sasuke's stomach twisted. His fists tightened even further.
"And second," Kabuto continued, "you, Fugaku, will step down as head of Uchiha Inc. and publicly name Itachi as your successor."
Silence filled the room.
Fugaku's face was stone, but there was something unreadable in his eyes. Sasuke turned sharply to Itachi, but his brother remained motionless, unreadable, his gaze fixed somewhere in the distance.
Fugaku exhaled through his nose. "We'll get back to you on that."
Kabuto smiled. "Of course. But don't take too long. I'd hate for things to get… messy."
With that, he turned on his heel and walked out, leaving the door slightly open behind him.
The silence stretched.
Sasuke was the first to break it. "You're not actually considering this." His voice was low, dangerous.
Fugaku didn't even look at him. "If it were up to me, I would have already taken the deal," he said, his tone clipped. "But this is a firm decision, not a personal one. I need a majority vote from the senior partners."
"That's bullshit," Sasuke snapped. "We can still win. I got this evidence once—I can do it again."
Fugaku finally turned to him, his expression colder than Sasuke had ever seen it. "And if you fail again?"
Sasuke opened his mouth, but nothing came out.
Fugaku didn't wait for an answer. He simply walked past him, leaving the office without another word.
Sasuke stood there, his breath shallow, his pulse pounding in his ears. He turned back to Itachi, his eyes burning with silent fury.
But Itachi still wouldn't look at him.
Sasuke sat in the small conference room, staring at the polished table in front of him, his hands curled into tight fists on his lap. The senior partners were filing in one by one, taking their seats, their expressions unreadable. This was it. The moment that would decide everything.
His entire career hung in the balance. If they allowed him to follow through with the case, he still had a chance—however small—to turn it around. To claw his way back from the humiliation of court, to restore his name, to prove that he had been right all along. But if they voted to fire him… if they took Kabuto's deal… then it was over. His credibility would be gone. He would be a joke in the world of law. No firm would ever take him seriously again. Uchiha Sasuke, disbarred in all but name.
The door opened again, and he barely had time to register the sound of footsteps before he saw her.
Sakura.
She walked in with the other senior partners, her face tight with some unreadable emotion. And when their eyes met, something inside him twisted violently. She looked at him with a kind of pain, a kind of pity, as if she already knew the outcome of this meeting. As if she had already mourned whatever was about to happen to him.
His fists clenched harder.
Was this truly it? Was he really about to lose everything over a fight that had started as just another case? A simple, straightforward battle in court that had somehow spiraled into a crusade against something larger than he could even comprehend? He had wanted to prove himself—to his father, to his firm, to the world—but had he simply reached too far? Had he bitten off more than he could chew, only to be devoured himself?
The thought sent a sharp, bitter taste through his mouth.
And then, before anyone could speak, before the meeting could even begin, Sasuke stood.
There was a startled pause. Then Fugaku's voice, sharp and low: "Sasuke, sit down."
He ignored him.
He walked straight to the door, throwing it open without a glance back. Someone—maybe Sakura—sucked in a quiet breath. A murmur rippled through the room, but Sasuke didn't care.
His father called his name again, more forceful this time, but Sasuke was already gone.
The cold air on the rooftop bit into his skin, but he barely felt it.
Sasuke stood near the edge, his cigarette hanging loosely between his fingers, unlit. His designated smoking spot, though he hadn't touched one since before the trial began. It had been a long time since he'd felt the urge, but now… now he wasn't sure what else to do with his hands.
It was over.
He exhaled slowly, staring out over the city skyline. Konoha stretched out before him, bright lights against the night, pulsing with life. But all he could think about was how he wouldn't be here much longer.
He would leave. He knew that now.
Even if the partners somehow voted to keep him, the damage was done. This humiliation would follow him forever. He would never be able to escape it. Konoha had a long memory, and Uchiha Sasuke would forever be known as the arrogant fool who thought he could take on an invisible monster and lost everything trying.
The realization settled over him, heavy and suffocating.
Law had been the only thing he had ever known. The only thing that had ever mattered to him, apart from his name. It defined him as much as being an Uchiha did. And now, both had been shattered.
His family.
He thought about his mother, the woman he had barely seen in months. She was the perfect housewife, despite being married to one of the most powerful men in the country. She stayed out of business, out of politics, out of anything that could have tainted her perfectly quiet, carefully maintained life. He wondered if she even knew what had happened to him. If she cared.
And Fugaku. This entire case had been about proving himself to his father. About finally earning his approval—not just as a lawyer, but as his son. But now… now he knew the truth. He had never been Fugaku's son. Not really. Not in the way Itachi was.
To his father, he had only ever been a senior partner at the firm. A business asset. A tool.
And now that tool had broken.
Then there was Itachi.
Sasuke closed his eyes for a moment, his fingers tightening around the cigarette before he forced himself to relax. He still couldn't wrap his mind around it. The betrayal, the quiet guilt in Itachi's eyes, the way he had looked away from him in that office while Kabuto outlined his promotion.
Itachi had been his closest ally, even as they had been rivals. He had been the one person Sasuke had thought he could trust, the one person he had believed would never—
But he had.
And Sasuke didn't know why.
That was the worst part. He didn't know why.
The more he thought about it, the more it made sense. If Itachi was benefiting from Kabuto's deal, if he was the one set to take over the firm in the aftermath, then… it couldn't have been coincidence. He must have been connected to the organization somehow. He had to be.
Sasuke had thought he was fighting alone.
Now, he wasn't sure he had ever had an ally to begin with.
He exhaled, rolling the cigarette between his fingers before slipping it back into his pocket.
There was only one thing left keeping him tethered to this city.
Sakura.
He knew she was behind him—he didn't have to turn around to feel it. Sakura. He'd always known when she was near, and now, she was just... there. Silent.
After a long moment, Sasuke broke the quiet with a dry chuckle, the kind of dark humor that didn't quite mask the pain. "So, how'd the partners' meeting go?" he asked, his tone flat, like he already knew the answer.
Sakura's breath caught, and there was a long pause before she answered softly. "I'm sorry," she said, her voice breaking slightly.
Sasuke's lips twisted into a humorless smile, and he flicked his cigarette into the air, watching it fall and disappear into the night. He didn't turn to face her, but the words came out of him before he could stop them. "You're sorry." He snorted, shaking his head. "Yeah, I bet you are."
Sakura took a step forward, and Sasuke could hear the tremble in her voice when she spoke again. "I never wanted it to turn out like this," she whispered, as tears started to well in her eyes.
Sasuke's heart twisted, but his face remained hard, unmoving. "I don't really care about your guilty conscience right now," he muttered, turning his gaze back to the skyline.
For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of the wind, before Sakura finally said something that made his heart skip in his chest.
"I voted to fire you."
Sasuke's chest tightened. The words hit him harder than he thought they would. Slowly, he turned to face her, his eyes wide with shock. His voice came out in a low rasp, disbelief hanging in each syllable. "What?"
Sakura looked devastated, the tears in her eyes threatening to spill over. But she didn't look away. She told him everything, her voice shaky but steady. "Fugaku and Itachi... They knew I was the one who supported you from the beginning. They knew I was the one who told you about the meeting. And they made sure I knew that if I didn't vote to fire you, they'd fire me. They said I had to follow orders... or else."
Sasuke's gaze darkened, and he stepped closer to her, his jaw clenched so tightly it ached. "It doesn't matter anymore," he said, voice tight. But even though his words said otherwise, the hurt was visible in his eyes. She voted to fire him. Sakura, of all people.
There was another pause, and then Sasuke spoke again, his voice quieter now. "I'm leaving Konoha."
Sakura's heart dropped, and she stepped forward in desperation. "No, Sasuke, please don't. It's not over. You can still work at another firm, or anything—your reputation in this city still holds weight. You're respected here."
Sasuke's eyes met hers, and for a long moment, he just stared at her, as if he could see straight through her. "Do you really believe that?" he asked, his voice cold, his words cutting through the night air like a blade. "Because I sure as hell don't."
He turned to leave, but then Sakura's voice cracked in one last, desperate plea. "The reason I came to Uchiha Inc. The reason I didn't go to the DA's office... was you, Sasuke. I wanted to be with you. I always have. And I... I've always loved you. Please stay. For me."
Her words hung in the air between them, the weight of them too much for Sasuke to carry. He paused, but his heart was already made up.
He looked over his shoulder, his face unreadable. "Thank you," he said, the words falling from his lips like the last remnants of something broken. And with that, he walked away, leaving Sakura standing there, tears falling freely as he disappeared into the darkness.