Konohagakure, Year 48Uchiha Clan CompoundMain Shrine
Smoke from ancient incense burners coiled toward the vaulted ceiling of the Uchiha shrine, failing to mask the tension thickening the air. The Council of Elders stood locked in furious debate, their shadows dancing like agitated specters on the aged wooden walls.
"Double pupils? In each eye?" rasped Elder Kohaku, knuckles white on his cane. "This is no blessing—it's an abomination!""A stain upon our noble lineage!" Elder Takeshi slammed a fist onto the low table, making ink pots rattle. "The child must be purged!"Murmurs swelled into a chilling chorus: "Monster." "Disgrace." "Kill it."
Their verdict hung like a executioner's blade—until a chair scraped violently back.
"SILENCE!"The roar came from Uchiha Hancheng. His considerable frame, draped in opulent silk robes, seemed to fill the dim hall as he rose. "My son's life," he thundered, eyes blazing with protective fury, "is not yours to auction!"
Elder Kohaku drew himself up. "Hancheng! That… thing possesses dual irises! It violates the very purity of the Sharingan! It is not Uchiha!"
"Purity?" sneered Elder Yori, his voice icy. "Your folly began when you wed that Senju wh*r*. This deformity is your reckoning."Another elder spat, "The freak pollutes our blood. End it!"
Hancheng's gaze swept the hostile faces. They despised him—the merchant who lacked the "nobility" of the warrior caste. Yet their greed kept them leashed. He was the clan's lifeblood; his gold had armed them during war, and now, with Konoha at peace and the clan police budget a pittance, his coffers alone prevented their slide into irrelevance.
"Genyu is my blood," Hancheng declared, his voice dropping to a dangerous timbre. "Harm a single hair on his head, and I will ensure this 'noble clan' drowns in debts so vast, your grandchildren will still be paying them off."
A heavy hush fell. All eyes turned to the clan head, Uchiha Fugaku, seated impassively on the central dais. Behind his shoulder stood his eldest son, Itachi—barely six, yet his dark eyes held an unsettling, ancient calm. The faintest crimson flicker deep within them hinted at an already-awakened Sharingan.
Fugaku's brow furrowed. "Hancheng," he began, his tone weary but firm, "the child's eyes… they lack the Uchiha form. They are a sign of ill fortune. We cannot embrace this… deviation."
"Deviation?" Hancheng's laugh was sharp, devoid of humor. His gaze locked onto the young Itachi. "Tell me, Fugaku… if I demanded you sl*t the throat of your precious 'prodigy' heir here for the 'greater good' of the clan… would your famed Uchiha pride compel you to obey?"
Fugaku recoiled as if struck. "How dare you!" he hissed, color draining from his face. "Itachi is the future of this clan! That… creature of yours cannot—"
"My son is my future," Hancheng cut him off, his voice glacial. He scanned the assembled elders, his stare promising ruin. "Remember my words. Touch Genyu, and I will reduce every legacy, every scrap of Uchiha pride you cling to, into dust and bankruptcy." He turned, his robes swirling, and stormed from the shrine, leaving behind a vacuum filled only by stunned silence and simmering outrage.
"Insolent upstart!" Elder Kohaku finally sputtered, his face purple. "To harbor such a monster…""The clan will never accept it!" Elder Takeshi vowed, pounding the table again."Never!" echoed others.
A younger, pragmatic voice sliced through the indignation: "And what of the state-of-the-art training ground Hancheng funded last month? The one with the reinforced stone foundations and obstacle courses? Or the three Jonin-level clansmen he personally pays to instruct our children? Shall we return those 'tainted' gifts too?"
The righteous anger faltered. The elders exchanged uneasy glances. The training ground was magnificent—a resource they desperately needed. Pride warred with pragmatism.
Elder Yori finally ground out, his voice tight with resentment, "…Let the abomination train there. It changes nothing. The Fates won't let such an ill-omened thing live long anyway."
The Outskirts - Uchiha Compound
Hancheng's palatial residence stood like a gilded island amidst the austere Uchiha architecture—a testament to wealth that earned respect nowhere within these power-obsessed walls. He was Konoha's merchant king, yet here, on the clan's literal edge, he remained an outsider.
Inside, soft lamplight illuminated an opulent bedroom. On a wide bed lay a woman of ethereal beauty, though her face was drawn with exhaustion. In her arms, swaddled in silk, lay a newborn. The infant was unnervingly calm, his wide, curious eyes—each containing twin pupils, one shimmering like molten gold, the other cold as polished silver—roaming the room before fixing on the returning Hancheng.
Genyu's Mind raced:*Papa Bear's back… Looks like he won whatever that was. Wait—UCHIHA? That shrine? Holy crap… I'm not just in *a* ninja world… I'm in the NARUTO verse?! How?! I just finished the d*mn anime finale and passed out! And I'm an Uchiha?! Okay, deep breaths… What year is it? Konoha 48? Sh*t. Sh*t! That means… the Massacre Night is… what? 6-7 years away? Less? Gotta figure this out… FAST.*
His mother, Kiyomi (once of the Senju, though she rarely spoke of it), gently stroked Genyu's cheek with a finger. Her voice, though soft, held a core of steel. "Those fossilized elders… Did they cause you trouble, my love?"
Hancheng's stormy expression softened as he approached the bed. A wide, genuine grin replaced the fury. "Trouble? Pfah! They tried." He reached down, his thick finger gently booping Genyu's tiny nose. "But our little warrior here… he's got spirit! Wait till you see his kick!"
He leaned in, aiming a kiss at Genyu's forehead. A tiny, sock-covered foot shot out with surprising speed and force, planting itself squarely on Hancheng's cheek and shoving him back. Genyu burrowed deeper into his mother's embrace, his unusual eyes blinking slowly.
Kiyomi couldn't suppress a tired chuckle. Hancheng threw his head back and laughed, the sound rich and warm, filling the room. "SEE? Genius! Pure, unadulterated genius!" He beamed at his son, pride radiating from him. "Two sets of Sharingan for the price of one! Forget an ill omen—this boy is our secret weapon, Kiyomi. Our magnificent, double-barreled secret weapon."