Chapter 26 — Secret Observation (extended)
Most people, if given the chance to become the ideal version of themselves, will—even if they are being used—be eternally grateful, tears and all.
That is one reason Aizen Sōsuke insisted on being a victor rather than a victim.
Winners worry less about what the world is and more about what the world should be. They shape it. They change it. They do not submit to it.
Even after a single setback, Aizen did not consider himself wrong.
"Sou-suke," Yuhi Kurenai asked quietly as they left the Kurama estate, "is Yakumo truly all right?"
Kurenai had been Yakumo Kurama's tutor since the girl was eight—she had watched the child grow up. Naturally she worried for her. Aizen shook his head minutely; his expression was not optimistic.
"Overall, controllable," he said. "Whether she can endure the road ahead depends on her."
Kurenai understood, on some level—she knew what repeatedly tearing at the soul would do to a person. Still, seeing the girl survive the initial procedure eased her a little.
They paused; Aizen sealed the black chakra back into a scroll and hurried off toward home. Kurenai called after him, but he waved her away: "Kurenai, I need to study this chakra further. Let's talk another time."
She stood there, arms on hips, a little exasperated at his single-mindedness. Aizen turned his back without visible change—people like Kurenai were tools whose distance he must manage. The same was true of Yakumo: he could not allow the child to be emotionally overwhelmed by others, not even her parents. How to proceed required thought.
Meanwhile, Hiruzen Sarutobi found himself busier than he'd expected—for days on end.
"Base 73: nothing found."
"Base 91: nothing found."
"Base 42…"
Report after report arrived: the more Hiruzen read, the deeper the frown on his face grew. This operation was different. Danzō Shimura had effectively centralized control of ROOT; the organization that nominally trained black-ops had become a sprawling underground network under his hand.
Hundreds of outposts, labs, safehouses, warehouses around Konoha—and even more overseas. Danzō had nearly two hundred operatives he could personally command; support staff, researchers and informants were uncountable.
Pieces that had seemed light when unweighted now turned into unwieldy tons once placed on the scale. For Hiruzen, the effort to inventory ROOT's holdings and find the stolen eye was like trying to trawl the ocean for a single grain of sand. He cobbled task forces together and ordered teams to survey. It was humiliating and exhausting.
At last the final search team returned.
"Base 113: nothing," the small, weary shinobi reported.
Hiruzen let out a long breath. "Danzō, you know full well the gravity of this. Before it becomes worse, you should tell us where that eye really is." On the surface the words were aimed at Uchiha Shisui, but Hiruzen's subtext was clear: hand the eye to my Anbu and I'll try to smooth things over.
Five long days of digging through the village and asking uncomfortable questions dragged on. Hiruzen glared at Danzō; the older man remained unbowed.
"I already told you the truth," Danzō said, voice low and solid. "You have command of ROOT now, Hiruzen. You know as well as I do that this is the work of that wicked Uchiha brat!"
Hiruzen's fists tightened. He couldn't help doubting himself—had Shisui's Kotoamatsukami really been so absolute? The man was behaving as he had always behaved, stubborn and severe, not suddenly obedient. Had there truly been an invisible thief capable of stealing from Danzō right under his nose? In Konoha? It sounded absurd.
But despite Hiruzen's incredulity, Shisui remained composed. He had every confidence in his own genjutsu; he had taken part in the search parties and found nothing. If the results were bizarre, the only reasonable conclusion was that someone else had set Danzō up. And Shisui had an idea who that someone might be—another Mangekyō. He kept that suspicion to himself, however; speaking it aloud would only inflame Uchiha–village tensions. So he stayed silent.
Hiruzen looked at the three of them—Danzō, Shisui, himself—each a little bewildered. Around them, ROOT operatives bowed heads in respect but shied from meeting eyes. Kabuto Yakushi watched in the shadows, contemplative. He had idolized great figures in succession—first a battlefield heroine, then Danzō, then Hiruzen, then Orochimaru—and now Aizen's subtle capability unsettled him in a way words couldn't capture. If Aizen could move people as he seemed to, what did that say about strength and loyalty? Only one thing struck Kabuto with clarity: the power to command true loyalty was the final leverage.
Hiruzen eventually exhaled. "Regardless, Danzō, attacking comrades is a violation. There will be punishment—measured punishment. Gather ROOT's supplies and bring them to the Hokage's office."
Danzō's single eye bulged with barely contained fury. He trembled. "You—Hiruzen, you bastard—!"
Hiruzen had learned how to manage him. "Answer me."
Danzō swallowed, stared at the stacks of scrolls and research instruments his operatives had accumulated over the years, and finally nodded through clenched teeth. "Yes, Hokage."
Shisui added quietly, "Also, any Sharingan in ROOT's custody should be returned to the Uchiha."
"Of course—that's proper," Hiruzen said calmly.
While Hiruzen reasserted order, something else watched from the forest's shadow—the other Mangekyō, the one Shisui feared might exist. A figure stirred in the trees, eyes fixed on the lone Uchiha in the group. A shape in the branches stretched out and took form: half-masked, half-grinning, tone laced with sarcasm.
"Uchiha Shisui had his eye stolen, and yet they can't find the culprit?" the newcomer said dryly.
Obito Uchiha snorted. "Konoha is still the same old thing. But… what do you mean 'can't find the thief'?" He sounded puzzled; this was a mess even he found odd.
He explained haltingly: "Shisui and Danzō fought, the Sharingan was taken, and then vanished—ROOT's been searching for days."
Obito's face darkened with confusion. Even for someone of limited formal patience with subtle politics, the idea that a whole village's forces couldn't trace a stolen eye was baffling.
Obito's intelligence had its limits.
He scratched his head, failed to understand the situation, and finally forced out a cold, dismissive snort:
"Useless fool."
"He doesn't even know who stole his own eye."
"Looks like I was being a little too wary of Shisui after all."
White Zetsu tilted his head, catching the implication hidden between Obito's words.
"So, Obito… you've finally decided to get rid of him?"
"..."
"No."
After a moment of silence, Obito shook his head.
"Let those idiots test him first."
"He still has one eye left."
When it came to what a one-eyed Mangekyō user was capable of, no one in the shinobi world knew better than him.
From the moment he learned of Shisui's terrifying genjutsu—
a power that could twist a person's very beliefs—
Obito had kept his distance from Konoha.
Just imagining the possibility made a chill run down his spine:
What if Kotoamatsukami rewrote his thoughts…
and he reverted to his old self?
The Obito he used to be—the one full of failure, regret, and weakness—
was the part of himself he despised the most.
White Zetsu chuckled lightly.
"Understood."
Obito shot him a sideways glance.
No matter how many times he heard that eerie tone,
it always grated on his nerves.
He stepped back into the shadows and vanished.
---
Two days later…
Shisui finally returned to the Uchiha compound.
Although the Third Hokage had immediately agreed to retrieve his stolen eye,
Shisui's heart remained heavy.
What kind of Mangekyō
could steal an eye from Danzō Shimura
without leaving the slightest trace?
How strong was the user?
Could they resist Kotoamatsukami?
If such a person suddenly stood up and rallied the clan into rebellion…
how was he supposed to stop them?
Shisui carried too many fears—too many unanswered questions.
Just as he slipped quietly through the night toward his home,
he suddenly halted.
His senses sharpened.
Several silhouettes stepped out, blocking both ends of the alley.
Multiple pairs of scarlet Sharingan lit up in the dark.
Shisui's muscles tensed.
The man in the lead walked out from the shadows,
expression grim, voice deep and cold:
"Shisui."
"Where is your eye?"