Night never truly fell over Konoha.
Oil lamps lined the main streets, casting a dull yellow glow that stretched shadows along walls and rooftops. Patrol guards moved in steady rhythms, their footsteps blending with the whispering night wind that slipped through the village.
But within the Uchiha district—
Darkness felt heavier.
Not because of the absence of light, but because of the sheer weight of secrets buried within it.
Haruto stood atop the roof of his home, his figure blending seamlessly with the shadows. The night wind stirred his black hair, yet his expression remained calm—almost cold. From where he stood, he could see nearly the entire clan compound: neatly arranged houses, narrow familiar roads, and at its center, the residence of the clan head, standing like an immovable axis.
And yet—
Something was wrong tonight.
Not a direct threat.
Not the sharp edge of killing intent.
But pressure.
A suffocating presence that pressed down on the air itself, making each breath feel heavier despite his body being perfectly fine.
"They're getting closer."
Haruto closed his eyes.
His awareness expanded.
Not through outwardly projected chakra—he was far too careful for such a mistake—but through a sensitivity honed since childhood. He listened to the pulse of the village, feeling patterns that no longer aligned.
And within that flow—
He sensed several points that did not move like normal people.
Root.
They did not patrol.
They did not interact.
They simply existed.
Watching.
Waiting.
Haruto slowly opened his eyes.
"Danzō…"
The name carried a cold weight that crawled along his spine.
He had known long before most realized it—that the man never stopped moving. If Shisui was a blade visible in the light, then Danzō Shimura was poison seeping silently through the veins of the village.
And that poison was now close to the heart of the Uchiha clan.
Haruto leapt down from the rooftop, landing soundlessly in a narrow alley between houses. He moved lightly, turning corners, sinking deeper into the shadows.
His destination was not the clan center.
Nor Fugaku's residence.
He headed toward the outskirts of the district—a place rarely visited at night.
An old building.
The Uchiha archive storage.
That was where history slept.
Not only techniques.
But failures.
The wooden door creaked softly as Haruto slipped inside and closed it behind him. Dust and the scent of aged paper filled the air. Tall shelves packed with scrolls stood in long rows, each holding stories never openly spoken.
He lit a small lamp and walked between the shelves.
He wasn't searching for jutsu.
He was searching for patterns.
Haruto stopped at a specific shelf and pulled out an old scroll rarely touched.
Records of internal clan conflicts.
He unrolled it and read in silence.
Failed uprisings.
Aborted negotiations.
Betrayals disguised as sacrifices.
The more he read, the clearer one truth became—
The Uchiha had always been tools.
When strong, they were used.
When deemed dangerous, they were discarded.
Haruto rolled the scroll back up.
"History always repeats itself."
He returned it to its place and extinguished the lamp. As he turned to leave—
He stopped.
Someone was standing in the doorway.
"Haruto."
The voice was gentle.
Yet carried unmistakable concern.
Mikoto Uchiha stood there, her face illuminated by moonlight from outside. Her eyes held a mixture of warmth and fear—the care of a mother and the understanding of a shinobi who knew exactly how dangerous the situation was.
"You shouldn't be here at night," she said softly.
Haruto lowered his head slightly.
"I just needed to confirm something."
Mikoto stepped inside and closed the door.
"And what did you find?"
Haruto hesitated.
Then answered honestly.
"There's no safe path."
Mikoto fell silent.
She looked at the shelves around them, then back at Haruto.
"Then… what will you do?"
Haruto raised his head.
"Survive."
The answer was simple.
But his eyes spoke of something far greater.
Mikoto stepped closer and placed a hand on his shoulder.
"You're still a child," she said quietly. "You shouldn't have to carry all of this."
Haruto offered a faint smile.
"I know."
Yet he didn't pull away.
For a brief moment—
He allowed himself to be thirteen.
Only for a moment.
The following days passed quickly.
And with each passing day, the pressure intensified.
Clan meetings became more frequent.
Fugaku smiled less.
Itachi returned home later each night, his gaze hollow, his thoughts trapped between loyalty and truths he refused to face.
And Shisui—
Shisui began to fade.
Not physically.
But emotionally.
He still smiled.
Still joked.
Yet his eyes—
They reflected a deep, accumulating exhaustion.
Haruto watched him from afar.
And for the first time—
He felt powerless.
One night, Shisui appeared at Haruto's training ground without warning.
"We need to talk," he said.
His tone was serious.
They stood facing each other in the forest, illuminated only by moonlight.
"Danzō is becoming more aggressive," Shisui said. "I'm going to meet him."
Haruto reacted instantly.
"Don't."
Shisui looked surprised.
"You don't understand," Haruto continued. "It's a trap."
Shisui exhaled slowly.
"I have to try. For the clan."
Haruto stared at him.
"For the clan…"
The words felt like knives.
"And if you die?" Haruto asked quietly.
Shisui smiled.
"If that's the price—"
"No," Haruto cut him off.
The air froze.
For the first time, Shisui saw anger in Haruto's eyes.
Not a burst of emotion.
But a cold, restrained flame.
"You're too important to die meaninglessly," Haruto said. "And you're too naïve if you think Danzō will play fair."
Shisui fell silent.
After a long moment, he asked, "Then what do you suggest?"
Haruto looked away.
He couldn't tell the truth.
Not yet.
"Whatever you do," he said at last, "don't go alone."
Shisui nodded slowly.
But in his heart—
The decision had already been made.
And Haruto knew it.
That night, Haruto stood once more within Takamagahara.
The dimension felt larger than before.
Quieter.
And heavier.
He stared into the endless void.
"If these eyes fully open now…"
His fist tightened.
"…I might be able to stop everything."
But he also knew—
That would mark the beginning of the end.
The Mangekyō Sharingan was not a solution.
It was a price.
A price far too high to pay too early.
Haruto opened his eyes.
His black gaze remained calm.
But deep within—
Patterns slowly rotated.
Eyes that must not open.
Not yet.
Fate's shadow drew closer.
And Haruto Uchiha stood directly in its path.
---
The Night of Betrayal
The night felt unnaturally quiet.
Not the peaceful kind—but the kind that made a shinobi's instincts scream that something unseen was already in motion. Haruto stood at the edge of Takamagahara, gazing into the boundless void as the dimension responded faintly to his unease.
"He's going anyway."
Haruto knew.
He knew Shisui too well to believe otherwise.
Shisui Uchiha never waited for disasters to arrive. He always stepped forward first—even if the path ahead was nothing but traps. And when the name Danzō Shimura was involved, those traps were no longer hypothetical.
Haruto closed Takamagahara and returned to the real world.
The night wind swept across his face.
He stood on a rooftop, gazing westward—toward the rarely traveled region of the village, where hidden facilities lay buried beneath layers of secrecy.
That was where Root took root.
And that was where Shisui would go.
"I can't stop him…"
"…but I can make sure I'm not too late."
Haruto moved.
He leapt across rooftops, conserving chakra, leaving no trace. His movements blended into the night as if he belonged to it.
He didn't follow Shisui directly.
He cut across paths.
Searching for the most likely meeting ground—a place far from public eyes, yet close enough for an "official discussion."
And he found it.
A narrow valley on the western edge of the forest, a shallow stream cutting through stone cliffs. Silent. Too silent.
Haruto concealed himself among the trees, erasing his presence completely. Even to high-level sensors, he was nothing more than part of the environment.
Then—
Two presences arrived.
The first was light, swift, and vibrant.
Shisui.
The second—
Heavy.
Restrained.
Filled with motionless intent that pierced like thorns.
Danzō Shimura.
He arrived with two Root guards, his face half-shrouded in shadow, his cane tapping the ground in a slow, deliberate rhythm.
"Shisui Uchiha," Danzō said. "You're punctual."
"I came for the village," Shisui replied. "And for the clan."
Danzō smiled thinly.
"Those two rarely align."
Haruto watched from the shadows.
"He's already begun."
The conversation was brief.
Too brief.
Danzō did not negotiate.
He did not ask.
He declared.
"The power of your eyes is too dangerous to remain in the hands of a clan that questions its loyalty."
"I proposed a peaceful solution," Shisui said.
"A solution dependent on illusion," Danzō replied coldly. "And I do not trust illusions."
Then—
Everything changed.
Shisui moved first.
His Shunshin erupted like lightning, his body vanishing and reappearing behind Danzō. But before the strike could land—
The air trembled.
Hidden seals activated.
Poison.
Haruto felt it instantly.
"Insects…"
Dozens of microscopic insects flooded the air—nearly invisible, carrying toxins specifically designed to target Uchiha chakra. Aburame insects.
Shisui coughed.
His movements slowed—only slightly.
But at this level—
A fraction of a second was enough.
Two Root operatives attacked in unison, forcing Shisui back toward the cliff. Blood ran from the corner of his mouth as realization struck.
The poison was not meant to kill quickly.
It gnawed at the nervous system.
Disrupted chakra pathways.
Permanently crippled the body.
Danzō stepped forward.
"Give me your eyes, Shisui," he said. "And the suffering ends."
Shisui laughed softly, his breathing unsteady.
"If you think I'd let you touch them…"
His eyes rotated.
The Mangekyō Sharingan bloomed.
Kotoamatsukami.
But before the technique could reach Danzō—
Another surge of interference erupted.
A barrier.
Distortion.
Danzō had prepared everything.
"That old bastard…"
Still, Shisui was Shisui.
With a forced movement, he leapt back—not to attack, but to escape. He sacrificed bodily stability for a single chance.
And succeeded.
He vanished.
Danzō froze.
His expression hardened.
"Pursue," he ordered curtly.
Haruto did not move.
He waited.
And just as expected—
Moments later, Shisui's presence reappeared.
Not in the real world.
But inside Takamagahara.
Haruto stood before him.
Shisui collapsed to one knee.
His body trembled.
His face pale.
Yet both eyes—
Were intact.
Alive.
Haruto caught him before he could fall completely.
"Don't speak," Haruto said quickly. "That poison—"
"I know," Shisui smiled weakly. "I can already feel it."
They sat within Takamagahara's endless silence, unseen winds whispering gently. Shisui's blood stained the floor, yet did not spread—as if the world itself was holding his ruin in place.
"Haruto…" Shisui's voice weakened. "You came."
"Of course," Haruto replied. "I won't let you die alone."
Shisui looked at him for a long moment.
Then chuckled.
"You always know…"
He coughed violently.
"Listen," he continued. "My body won't recover. That poison… it's not meant to kill."
Haruto closed his eyes briefly.
He knew.
Such poison had one purpose—
To leave someone alive, but broken.
And for a shinobi—
That was crueler than death.
Shisui inhaled deeply.
"Haruto… use me."
Haruto's eyes snapped open.
"What?"
"Absorb my power," Shisui said calmly. "Your Orochi."
Silence.
Takamagahara itself seemed to freeze.
"I never told you," Shisui continued with a faint smile, "but I once saw you experimenting."
Haruto said nothing.
Shisui lifted his hand with great effort and placed it on Haruto's chest.
"You'll need it," he said. "For what's coming."
Tears welled in Haruto's eyes.
"No," his voice shook. "I can save you. I—"
"You can't," Shisui interrupted gently. "And you know it."
His breathing faltered.
"Don't let my power fall into Danzō's hands."
Haruto trembled.
Then—
He nodded.
"I'm sorry," he whispered.
Shisui smiled.
"Thank you."
Shisui's final breath faded.
And Haruto wept.
A silent cry.
One heard by no world.
Then—
Orochi awakened.
Dark light enveloped Shisui's body.
Chakra.
Experience.
Techniques.
Memories.
All flowed into Haruto.
And at that moment—
Something shattered.
Haruto's eyes rotated.
The Mangekyō evolved.
Eternal Mangekyō Sharingan.
Kotoamatsukami etched itself into his gaze.
Shisui's body turned to dust, lifted by the winds of Takamagahara, and vanished into the endless sky.
Haruto stood slowly.
His tears dried.
His gaze changed.
Calm.
Cold.
But deep within—
The fire of vengeance ignited.
"Wait for me, Danzō."
But he restrained himself.
Not yet.
There were still lives to save.
And the night of the massacre—
Was drawing ever closer.
**********
Author: May you all always be healthy!