The cold wind howled through the dense trees on the outskirts of Konoha, carrying the damp scent of approaching rain.
Shisui Uchiha moved silently through the shadows. The emergency meeting with Hiruzen Sarutobi, the Third Hokage, was set. Tonight, Shisui would use the Kotoamatsukami on the leader of the Uchiha clan, Fugaku, forcing an end to the coup d'état without shedding a single drop of blood. He carried the weight of the village's peace on his shoulders, entirely confident in his plan.
But the darkness of Konoha was deeper than he had calculated.
As he crossed an isolated clearing near the ANBU headquarters, the air pressure shifted. Shisui stopped, his hand resting casually on the hilt of his short sword.
"I expected you to be halfway to the Uchiha compound by now, Shisui," a harsh, raspy voice echoed from the gloom.
Danzo Shimura emerged from the shadows, leaning heavily on his cane. He was entirely alone, but Shisui's Sharingan spun to life in his eyes, instantly detecting the carefully concealed signatures of elite Root agents surrounding the perimeter.
"Danzo-sama," Shisui said respectfully, though his body tensed for combat. "The Hokage has approved my plan. The Uchiha rebellion ends tonight, peacefully."
"Peacefully," Danzo scoffed, a cold sneer forming on his wrinkled face. "Hiruzen's idealism is a disease. Even if you brainwash Fugaku today, the rot within your clan remains. The Uchiha are a ticking time bomb of pride and hatred. You cannot cure an infection with an illusion, boy. You must amputate the limb."
Shisui's eyes widened slightly. Before he could formulate a response, the older man lunged forward with a speed that belied his age.
What followed was a brutal, fleeting clash of ideals and blood. Shisui was faster, stronger, and more talented. He easily trapped Danzo in a genjutsu, assuming control of the situation. But Danzo had hidden his true monstrosity. Using the forbidden Izanagi with a stolen Sharingan he already possessed, Danzo rewrote reality.
Before Shisui could react to the impossible, Danzo's hand plunged toward his face.
The pain was blinding. An agonizing scream tore through Shisui's throat as his right eye was violently ripped from its socket. Blood poured down his cheek, hot and thick, staining his flak jacket.
Surrounded by Root agents dropping from the trees to finish the job, Shisui knew his peaceful plan had just died. With a desperate surge of chakra, he triggered his signature Shunshin, vanishing into a blur of leaves, escaping the ambush by a hairsbreadth.
Hours later, the roaring sound of the Naka River filled the void of the night.
Standing dangerously close to the edge of the sheer cliff overlooking the raging waters, Shisui stood motionless. The right side of his face was covered in a makeshift bandage soaked in blood. His breathing was shallow, his chakra nearly depleted from the poison the Root blades had carried.
Behind him, the rustle of grass announced the arrival of the only person he trusted in the entire world.
"Shisui..." Itachi Uchiha's voice trembled, a rare break in his stoic facade. He stared at his best friend's mutilated face, horror dawning in his dark eyes. "What happened?"
"Danzo," Shisui coughed, a bitter, exhausted smile touching his pale lips. "He doesn't trust us, Itachi. He doesn't believe in the Uchiha. He took my right eye to protect the village his own way."
Itachi took a step forward, his fists clenched in fury. But Shisui raised a hand, stopping him.
"There's no time for anger. He will come for my left eye soon. And if a civil war breaks out, other nations will strike. Konoha will fall."
Shisui reached up, his fingers trembling as he touched the edge of his remaining eye. With a grim, resolute expression, he extracted his left eye. The gruesome sound made Itachi flinch, but Shisui held the crimson, spinning Mangekyō Sharingan out to his friend.
"I am giving this to you, Itachi," Shisui whispered, his voice fading. "Protect the village. And protect the Uchiha name."
Itachi carefully accepted the eye, his own vision blurring with unshed tears. He placed it in a small preservation jar, his heart breaking under the colossal weight of what Shisui was implying.
"I will," Itachi promised, his voice cracking. "But Shisui... what about you?"
Shisui turned his blind face toward the raging river below. The cold wind ruffled his hair. He was ready to fade into the shadows, to erase his existence so his body couldn't be used to spark the war. But before he stepped off the edge, a flash of pink hair and a sarcastic, masked face crossed his fading mind.
"One last thing, Itachi," Shisui said, stepping back from the ledge for a brief second. He reached out blindly, grabbing Itachi's wrist with surprising strength.
"Anything."
"Tell Sasuke... when the dust settles, tell your brother to take the pink-haired boy from his Academy class to my house."
Itachi blinked, utterly confused by the strange request amidst the tragedy. "The civilian boy? Why?"
"Everything I wrote down," Shisui smiled, a genuine, warm expression cutting through the agony of his bloody face. "My Kenjutsu forms, my notes on the Shunshin, the mechanics of my Genjutsu... I leave them all to him."
"Shisui, he is a civilian child. Sasuke is your family—"
"Sasuke has you," Shisui interrupted gently. "But the path Sasuke will walk... it will be lonely and suffocating. He will need an anchor. He will need a rival who doesn't pity him, who doesn't care about the Uchiha name. That boy, Matsuri... he understands effort. If he inherits my foundation, he will be strong enough to keep Sasuke grounded."
Shisui squeezed Itachi's wrist one last time, imparting the absolute gravity of the request. "Promise me you will tell him."
"I promise," Itachi whispered, the tears finally falling down his cheeks.
"Good." Shisui let go. He turned back to the abyss, opening his arms as if embracing the wind. "Don't let them drag you into the darkness, Itachi."
With a serene smile, Shisui Uchiha stepped backward.
Gravity claimed him, pulling the prodigy of the Shunshin down into the roaring depths of the Naka River. He made no sound as he fell, disappearing into the foaming black waters.
Itachi stood alone on the edge of the cliff. The silence that followed the splash was deafening. The agony in his chest was absolute, an emotional pain so violently powerful that it shattered the limits of his mind.
When Itachi opened his eyes again, the standard three tomoe of his Sharingan began to spin wildly, bleeding into a new, complex pinwheel pattern.
The Mangekyō Sharingan had awakened. And with it, Itachi realized with a terrifying clarity that Shisui's peaceful dream was dead. The burden of stopping the war now fell entirely on him, and the only path left was painted in blood.
The tragedy of the Uchiha had officially begun. And amidst the incoming storm of hatred and massacre, a dying wish meant for a masked boy was about to be buried under the weight of an unforgivable trauma.
[Author's Note] Hello everyone, I hope you are enjoying Matsuri's journey! Writing and planning each chapter takes a lot of time, dedication, and effort (even more so dealing with hand pain from the keyboard!). If you like my work, believe in the potential of this story, and want to encourage me to keep posting frequently, please consider supporting me with any amount. Every bit of help makes a huge difference and motivates me a lot! ☕ To support (PIX[Mercado Pago] or PayPal): [email protected] Thank you so much for reading, commenting, and for all the support! ❤️