Night had fallen deep over Konoha.
Inside the Uchiha residence, Mikoto wiped the last dish dry, her delicate hands glistening with droplets as she glanced at the closed bedroom door. A worried sigh escaped her lips.
Just days ago, alarming news had spread through the village, the border had been invaded by foreign shinobi. Konoha, ever cautious, dispatched Fugaku Uchiha with a team to investigate. What was supposed to be a simple reconnaissance mission turned into a blood-soaked nightmare.
They had stumbled upon an entire unit of elite enemy shinobi. The ambush was brutal. Fugaku's squad had been caught completely off guard. Though his strength had turned the tide and the enemy was annihilated, the cost had been staggering. Out of his handpicked elite team, only two had survived. His closest childhood friend, his brother in all but blood had fallen before his very eyes, sacrificing himself to save Fugaku's life.
The trauma shattered him. Fugaku collapsed, unconscious, and didn't wake until this very day.
When he finally opened his eyes, Mikoto had been overjoyed. But her joy was soon replaced by worry, her husband's gaze had turned distant, his words distracted, as if his soul had changed. Hoping to lift his spirits, she had invited her best friend and her husband Minato and Kushina to dinner earlier. But even that had done little to bring warmth back to his heart.
Now, watching that silent door, Mikoto sighed again. She knew how deep the bond between Fugaku and his friend had been. Grief like that could break anyone. But still… something felt wrong.
The man behind that door he looked like her husband, spoke like him yet something in her heart told her she was living with a stranger.
If it weren't for her Sharingan confirming he was real, Mikoto might have believed an enemy had disguised themselves as Fugaku.
If only Fuqiu knew how close she was to the truth, he would have been drenched in cold sweat. The bond between husband and wife was frighteningly deep even death couldn't dull such instinct.
Darkness stretched endlessly around them.
Only a campfire burned quietly in the void, its flickering light dancing on the faces of two men seated across from each other.
"So… will you finally tell me?" the darker-skinned man demanded. "What the hell happened? How did I end up here, Fugaku Uchiha?"
Fugaku frowned slightly, his tone calm but sharp. "You truly don't remember anything?"
"Remember?" Fuqiu snapped, voice rising. "How could I remember anything?! I went to sleep after working overtime, and next thing I know, I'm in this damn world! I somehow survive a whole day pretending to be you, fall asleep again, and now I wake up here with you in front of me! You tell me what the hell am I supposed to remember?!"
"Calm yourself," Fugaku replied evenly. "It seems you truly recall nothing. In that case… let me explain."
He took a breath and began to speak.
After witnessing his best friend die before him, Fugaku's grief had driven him into unconsciousness. In that moment, another soul, a foreign one had suddenly invaded his body, seeking to seize control.
But Fugaku Uchiha was no weakling. He fought back fiercely, wielding the strength of his Sharingan and his will. The clash of souls raged violently within him, a storm of spirit and pain. Bit by bit, he turned the tide, pressing the invader to the brink of annihilation.
Yet, just as victory seemed within reach, a torrent of alien memories burst into his mind strange and chaotic.
They came from another world, a planet called Earth. A peaceful place, with technology and cities instead of chakra and jutsu. But among all those strange things, one truth stood above all others in that world, this world was nothing but a manga.
Yes. Everything he knew, his clan, his family, his life was just ink and story on a page.
His own son would one day murder him. His family would vanish in a single night. His legacy would end in blood. And the "history of ninjas" was nothing but the byproduct of a feud between two brothers, an endless, senseless cycle born from conflict and pride.
Fugaku could not accept it.
Everything he believed in… shattered. His pride, his purpose, his very existence all revealed to be fiction.
Despair consumed him. And in that moment of weakness, he let go. His resistance faltered. The foreign soul Fuqiu devoured him completely.
"That," Fugaku said quietly, "is what happened."
Fuqiu blinked, stunned. "So you're saying… even you don't know how I got here?"
Fugaku nodded. Silence fell between them, heavy and endless.
Finally, Fuqiu asked, "Then why bring me here? You want me to give your body back?"
"No," Fugaku said softly, shaking his head. "I no longer can. My soul has already been absorbed. You are now the true master of this body."
"What?!"
"Don't be so surprised," Fugaku continued, his voice echoing like wind in the flames. "What you see before you isn't truly me. It's only a projection the remnants of my memory that you have yet to absorb."
"A projection…?" Fuqiu repeated.
"Yes. I am the memory of Fugaku Uchiha. If you choose to absorb me, you will gain all of my knowledge, my combat experience, my instincts everything that made me who I was. It will help you blend into this world completely. And it may be the only thing that keeps you alive in the coming war the Third Great Ninja War."
Fuqiu's eyes widened. "You mean… I'll gain your power?"
A faint smile touched Fugaku's lips. "Indeed. Including this…"
His eyes snapped open, glowing with red light. The tomoe within began to twist, transforming into a new, terrifying pattern that pulsed with power.
The Mangekyō Sharingan.
Its glow reflected in the fire, ancient and absolute.
Fuqiu's breath caught. "What do you want in return?"
He knew nothing in this world came for free.
Fugaku looked at him calmly. "Two conditions. Nothing more."
"Tell me."
"First… protect the Uchiha Clan. I don't want to see my people slaughtered under my name."
Fuqiu frowned. It was a heavy promise. Politics, power, and destiny were tangled beyond comprehension. Yet, as clan leader, it was his duty now. He nodded slowly. "Alright. Next?"
"The second…" Fugaku's expression softened. "Take care of my wife and children. I may have failed as a leader, but as a husband and father I tried. I only hope… you can do better than I did."
A faint, peaceful smile crossed his face as his body began to fade into glowing motes of light.
"Wait! I haven't agreed yet!" Fuqiu shouted, reaching forward but it was too late. Fugaku's image dissolved completely, merging with him.
The light of the campfire expanded, flooding his vision.
Then, brightness. Warmth.
Fuqiu opened his eyes to find sunlight spilling into the room.
The night had ended.
The dawn of a new fate had begun.
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