Chapter 20 — The Eye
The moment their gazes met, an invisible current of power surged between them—
a bond forged by the Mangekyō Sharingan, binding two souls into one shared space.
And within that instant, three blazing brands—each like molten steel—
etched themselves deep into the core of Shimura Danzō's spirit.
"Everything for Konoha."
"Face the Uchiha without hatred."
"Obey the Third Hokage's command."
As those three commandments burned into his psyche, Danzō froze in place.
His body stiffened, his movement locked—like a puppet with its strings cut.
Across from him, Shisui gasped for air. Pain radiated from his eye socket to his skull, a burning ache that clawed at his nerves.
Yet when he saw Danzō's body halt, relief flickered across his bloodstained face.
No one understood Kotoamatsukami better than he did.
The ultimate illusion—the will rewritten so completely that even the victim believed it was his own.
Still, Shisui remained cautious. He called out softly:
"Danzō-dono…?"
No answer.
The elder's eye flickered rapidly, his mind clearly in turmoil.
Then, slowly, his hand lowered.
"What is it?"
That calm, almost detached tone made Shisui's heart lift with quiet joy.
He knew he had crossed a line—using Kotoamatsukami on a village elder was a grave betrayal of his agreement with the Third Hokage—but if it meant turning the tide, if it meant softening the single most dangerous anti-Uchiha voice in the council, then perhaps this sin could be forgiven.
Shisui exhaled. His expression softened.
"Forgive me, Danzō-dono," he said. "I had no choice. I'll report everything to the Hokage myself. Please, understand—"
"It's fine," Danzō interrupted quietly, stepping closer.
"I'll explain it to Hiruzen personally. You needn't say another word."
Shisui hesitated. Something in that voice felt… wrong.
Too even. Too measured.
"Danzō…?"
He barely had time to speak before the man moved.
The old body blurred into motion, exploding forward with a speed that split the air.
Kotoamatsukami… didn't work?
Impossible!
Instinct roared to life.
Steel flashed.
Their figures crossed in an instant—
Shisui's blade carved cleanly through Danzō's extended right arm.
A spray of blood followed—
but then a sickening emptiness bloomed in Shisui's skull.
A stabbing, hollow pain.
He leapt back, retreating ten meters through the shattered forest canopy.
When he stopped, his breathing caught in his throat.
His right eye—the Mangekyō—was gone.
Across from him, Danzō clenched his left hand tightly.
A smirk twisted his face, cold and proud.
"Uchiha Shisui," he said, voice dripping with disdain.
"Did you think I wouldn't see through you?"
"Everything I've ever done has been for Konoha!"
"I've always known the truth about your clan's sins and virtues."
"Only by eradicating the extremists among you can the village truly stand united!"
"You think this is personal? That I do this for myself?"
He let out a short, bitter laugh.
"Ridiculous."
Shisui's expression trembled.
In all his life, he had never seen anyone quite like this man—
so consumed by delusion that it had devoured the truth itself.
That kind of madness…
wasn't hatred.
It was faith twisted into fanaticism.
Damn it!
Rage flooded through him.
His single remaining eye flared crimson, and chakra surged around him.
The skeletal frame of Susanoo burst forth once more, ripping apart the forest in a hurricane of light and destruction.
Dozens of Root operatives were thrown into the air as Shisui rocketed upward, heading straight toward the heart of the village.
I have to reach the Hokage—now!
If Danzō keeps that eye… if he learns to use Kotoamatsukami himself… Konoha will fall into his hands!
Behind him, Danzō stood eerily calm amid the ruin.
The stump of his right arm barely bled—something pale and fibrous writhed within the wound, already knitting itself closed.
In his left hand, he clutched the stolen eye, its glow dimmed but still alive.
For a long moment, he stared at it silently.
Such an opportunity, he knew, would never come again.
Even now, a trace of unease lingered in his chest.
If Shisui's command had not been "Protect the village,"
but "Serve me,"
he would have been lost entirely.
He exhaled slowly.
"Fortunate," he muttered. "The boy truly was a loyal Uchiha."
And yet… something was missing.
A faint emptiness in his thoughts, like a word on the tip of the tongue.
"Strange," he murmured. "Now that I have the eye of Kotoamatsukami… what was I meant to do with it for Hiruzen again?"
As he frowned in confusion, his left palm suddenly twitched.
The eye moved.
A violent pulse of chakra rippled through his fingers.
The once-dim organ writhed as if alive—heat searing through his skin like molten metal.
"What—?!"
Reflexively, Danzō loosened his grip.
And from his palm, a flutter of black feathers burst outward.
A single raven, its feathers shimmering with ink-like light, tore itself free from his hand.
Embedded within its head—Shisui's stolen eye—shone once more, bright and alive.
With a beat of wings, it soared into the sky, vanishing into the clouds.
"What… what is this?!"
Danzō hurled two shuriken, both slicing through empty air.
The raven dissolved like a mirage, lost to the heavens.
He stared upward, chest heaving, realization sinking in like a stone.
Everything—his trap, his triumph, his theft—
had amounted to nothing.
He had gained nothing at all.
All for nothing.
The whisper left his lips like an echo swallowed by the trees.
...
Elsewhere, deep beneath Konoha.
Aizen Sōsuke — who had only moments ago been watching the Root surveillance feed in the multi-function theater — now stood in a dimly lit archive room, quietly turning the yellowed pages of a file.
The faint scrape of parchment against his gloves echoed softly.
Then, as though sensing a shift in the air, his fingers stilled mid-turn.
"So… the outcome's been decided?"
A gentle sigh escaped his lips. His gaze drifted downward, though it seemed to pierce far beyond the room itself — as if he could see, through layers of earth and distance, the scene unfolding before Danzō Shimura.
"How predictable… and yet, still disappointing."
He shook his head, a faint smile curving the corner of his mouth.
Neither Shisui Uchiha nor Danzō Shimura had acted quite as he'd expected.
In Aizen's plan, the confrontation should have been decisive:
If Shisui had prevailed, Danzō — that meddlesome obstruction — would have been removed, paving the way for Aizen to quietly seize control of Root in the aftermath.
If Danzō had triumphed, Aizen would simply take the spoils — a pair of Mangekyō Sharingan.
But instead, both had failed in their own ways.
"Danzō lacked ability…"
"Shisui lacked resolve."
His tone was calm, not disappointed — merely analytical, like a scientist studying a failed specimen.
As he mused, Aizen raised one hand toward the ceiling.
A dark shadow fluttered down through the gloom.
Within seconds, a raven of pure black feathers perched neatly upon his wrist.
Embedded within its skull, gleaming faintly even in the dim light, was a Mangekyō Sharingan — blood-red, patterned like a four-pointed windmill.
Aizen's smile deepened.
He reached out gently, and with surgical precision, removed the eye from the raven's head.
The creature shuddered once in his palm, then stilled — feathers scattering like soot upon the floor.
"A modest return," he murmured, gazing at the eye. "But progress nonetheless."
Before the words faded, a tall shadow approached swiftly from behind — a man kneeling gracefully before him, head bowed.
In his outstretched hands was a sealed scroll.
"Lord Aizen," the man said, voice low but reverent. "We found it."
Aizen accepted the scroll with that same effortless composure, his expression mild.
"You've done well."
Upon the cover, four bold characters stood out in deep black ink: Izanagi.
He unrolled it, scanning the archaic formulae, the spiraling hand seals, the annotations of long-dead Uchiha scribes.
Aizen's brow rose slightly.
"A genjutsu capable of rewriting reality itself… so this is the culmination of the Uchiha's evolution."
"How… delightfully audacious."
The tall figure beside him — face hidden beneath a dark mask — spoke in a respectful whisper.
"It was likely stolen by Uchiha Itachi, my lord. According to Hyūga records, only he had the authority to access techniques of this tier."
Aizen turned his head slightly, his golden-brown eyes soft with amusement.
"You've done well, Hizashi."
The man beside him — Hyūga Hizashi, the twin brother of the Hyūga clan head — lifted his gaze. His long black hair fell like a curtain over his shoulders, and for the first time, a flicker of warmth touched his hardened face.
"It has been some time since you last returned home, hasn't it?" Aizen said gently.
"I heard young Neji's condition has worsened lately. When this is over, you should visit him."
For a moment, Hizashi's composure cracked. His throat tightened, and he bowed even lower, eyes glistening faintly.
"Had you not saved my life that night, Lord Aizen, I would have perished long ago," he said hoarsely.
"My service — my entire life — belongs to you."
"And as for my son… when your grand design succeeds, he will be freed. I know it."
When he lifted his head, fervor burned in his pale Byakugan eyes.
His forehead — where the Hyūga's cursed seal should have been — was perfectly unmarked.
Aizen smiled, serene and almost fatherly.
"That day will come."
"But patience, my friend — patience is part of creation."
"Yes, my lord."
Hizashi bowed again, deeply, almost trembling with devotion.
A few minutes later, Aizen, Hizashi, and the third subordinate departed the archive, their arms laden with scrolls — each a treasure of forbidden knowledge.
And so, under the dim light of the underground corridors, while a handful of Root operatives watched from the shadows, the trio walked calmly, openly, out of the very base that had once been guarded by Shimura Danzō himself.
No one stopped them.
No one dared to.
The air was utterly still —
as though, even in its silence, Konoha had already begun to fall under his illusion.