Deep inside the cave, within the hidden chamber.
Kurō stood before Shisui’s grave, completely still.
The light spilled down from above, falling across his lowered profile and making the lines of his face look faintly cold.
His gaze rested in front of the grave marker.
There, aside from the small incense burner, was a yellowed letter.
The corners of the paper were worn, and a thin layer of dust had settled over it.
Kurō stared at that letter for a long time.
Around three years ago, his strength had already reached Kage level.
He had spent a great deal of time training.
Ninjutsu, taijutsu, genjutsu, and the forbidden arts he had dug out from Madara’s inheritance.
But the thing he had put the most effort into was actually concealment.
After all, in this world, the people who lived longest were not always the strongest.
They were definitely the best at staying hidden.
Madara: ???
And two years ago, he had finally been able to do something he had wanted to do for a long time.
Infiltrate Konoha.
Not for any important plan.
He simply wanted to go and see.
To visit his parents’ graves, Obito’s grandmother’s grave, Rin’s grave, and the graves of those squad members who had died during the Third Great Ninja War.
He wanted to see them.
Kurō knew it had no real meaning.
The dead would not come back to life just because someone visited them.
They would not feel comforted just because someone remembered them.
They were only cold stones now, and names carved into stone, slowly worn away by wind and rain.
But he wanted to do it anyway.
When he had no strength, he could not do what he wanted.
If he had strength now and still could not do what he wanted, then what had all that training been for?!
He infiltrated Konoha, avoided every sensory barrier, slipped past the ANBU patrol routes, and moved through the night like a silent ghost.
He went to the Memorial Stone.
He went to Konoha’s cemetery.
He went to the places that had once been familiar to him, yet now he did not dare approach openly.
Then he went to the Uchiha compound and found his parents’ graves.
But it was not what he had imagined.
The grave markers had been cleaned spotless.
Not a speck of dust remained.
On the stone platform in front of them, fresh flowers had been placed.
There was still dew on the petals, as if they had only been laid there recently.
Kurō stood there and looked at that bouquet for a very long time.
He understood.
There was only one person who would do something like this in the Uchiha compound.
Uchiha Shisui.
That disobedient brat.
He stood before the grave for a long time.
The night wind passed by, lifting the loose strands of hair over his forehead, and also stirring the emotions he had buried for far too long.
He remembered what Shisui had looked like as a child.
That little brat who always followed behind him, earnestly calling him “Kurō-niisan.” That fool whose talent was absurdly high, yet who always wavered between Konoha and the Uchiha, pushing himself closer and closer to collapse.
In the end, Kurō still used the Summoning Jutsu to call forth the crow he had not used in years.
Through the crow, he passed along several messages.
“Do not reveal your Mangekyō ability to anyone.” “Beware of Danzō.
His right eye is a Sharingan, and he can use Izanagi.” “If you truly want the Uchiha Clan to survive, then stop thinking about throwing your life away.” He had already said these things to Shisui countless times when he was still in Konoha.
Every time, Shisui would listen seriously, nod seriously, and then continue doing things his own way.
That classic Uchiha stubbornness.
Once he decided on something, not even ten horses could drag him back.
Kurō knew very well that, based on his understanding of Shisui, the boy definitely would not listen to him.
Even if Kurō had repeated those words in his ear countless times.
But he still held on to a little hope.
Consider it repayment for all the years Shisui had swept his parents’ graves in his place.
He sent that small hope over, then turned and disappeared into Konoha’s night.
Then, one day a year later, an indescribable unease suddenly rose in his heart.
As if he had understood something, he summoned the crow.
The black crow landed on his shoulder, a letter held in its beak.
To Kurō-neesan: By the time you see this letter, I am probably already dead.
I’m sorry, Kurō-neesan.
I listened to you.
I never revealed Kotoamatsukami to anyone, and I never used it in front of anyone.
But the Uchiha Clan’s coup truly became unavoidable.
I originally planned to use Kotoamatsukami on Clan Head Fugaku and stop the coup.
But what I did not expect was that, right as I was preparing to act, Elder Danzō brought Root to eliminate me.
He wanted to use my death to inflame the conflict between Konoha and the Uchiha, forcing Konoha and the Uchiha into open war.
From beginning to end, he never intended to resolve the Uchiha coup peacefully, even though he did not know I had the Mangekyō Sharingan.
Thanks to the information you gave me about Izanagi, I saw through his plot and seriously wounded him.
But… that battle made me understand one thing.
Kurō-niisan, you were right.
Among Konoha’s upper ranks, aside from Lord Third, no one truly wants to resolve the conflict with the Uchiha peacefully.
And Lord Third has grown old.
He worries about too many things, and his ability is no longer enough.
He cannot control the situation anymore.
If I had listened to you back then and firmly stood with the Uchiha, maybe everything would have been different… But now it is already too late.
The conflict between Konoha and the Uchiha has truly reached a point where it can no longer be reconciled.
The Uchiha are no longer satisfied with being treated fairly by Konoha.
What they want now is absolute Uchiha control over Konoha.
They want to “restore the Uchiha to greatness.” Once the Uchiha and Konoha formally go to war, the final result will only be ruin for both sides.
It may even become the spark that starts the Fourth Great Ninja War.
The Uchiha Clan will become the enemy of the entire ninja world… I am Uchiha Shisui of the Uchiha Clan, but I am also a ninja of Konoha.
I… cannot bring myself to stand entirely on either side.
To buy time, I… chose to remove myself from the board.
As long as the Uchiha lose me as an important fighting force, they will definitely slow down their coup plans.
Danzō has been heavily injured.
As long as Lord Third and Itachi are there, they will surely be able to find a peaceful solution.
I know this is running away.
But… I no longer know what to do.
I’m sorry, Kurō-niisan.
Truly… I’m sorry.
Finally, I beg you, Kurō-niisan.
Please save the Uchiha Clan.
Return to Konoha… I know I have no right to ask for your forgiveness, but please allow me to entrust my final strength to you.
The only people I can trust are Itachi… and you.
Your idiot student, Uchiha Shisui • Kurō looked expressionlessly at the small incense burner in front of the grave marker, and at the letter that had already turned yellow.
At some point, a small bottle had appeared in his hand.
The bottle was transparent, and inside it was a Sharingan.
It was Shisui’s right Mangekyō Sharingan, the eye he had entrusted to Kurō at the very end, together with the letter.
“Idiot.” Kurō looked at Shisui’s eye and spoke coldly.
From beginning to end, he had always hated Shisui.
It was bad enough that he wavered between Konoha and the Uchiha.
His talent was clearly absurd, yet he refused to accept reality from start to finish, stubbornly clinging to the Konoha that existed only in his ideals.
When things could no longer be salvaged, he dumped everything onto others and went off to die on his own without discussing it with anyone, never once considering whether the people left behind were willing to accept that burden.
He looked easygoing on the surface, but in truth, his sense of self was far too strong.
At his core, he was still an Uchiha through and through.
A lunatic fit to sit at the same table as that maniac Itachi!
When Kurō learned that Shisui had died, the first thing he felt was not sadness.
He was so angry he almost laughed.
“A winning hand played into complete disaster.” Nothing could describe Shisui’s life more perfectly.
Kurō had not awakened the Mangekyō because of Shisui’s death.
Because his feelings for Shisui had already been worn away by disappointment after disappointment.
Kurō looked at Shisui’s grave marker and said in a low voice, “The Uchiha Clan was wiped out.” His voice was very calm, so calm it sounded like he was stating a fact that had nothing to do with him.
“From beginning to end, you accomplished nothing.
You only made things worse.” He paused, and a trace of self-mockery entered his tone.
“I didn’t have the ability to change any of this.
You had the ability.
You even knew what you should do.
But you still went ahead with your own ideas, and now things have ended up like this.” “…Fine.
You died.
That’s one thing.
But you even left the Uchiha and me with a disaster like Itachi.
I’m truly blessed to have had you around.” He muttered irritably.
What surfaced in his mind were the dozen or so years he had spent living in the Uchiha compound, and the kind looks those ordinary Uchiha residents had given him.
They did not understand the conflict between the village and the Uchiha.
Some of them were not even ninja.
They were just ordinary people living there, ordinary people who happened to carry the Uchiha name.
They only wanted to live their lives properly.
They wanted their children to grow up safely.
They wanted to sit beneath the porch in the sun when they were old.
“Everyone is like this.
They drag people who only want to live peaceful lives into their rotten messes, destroy their lives, and then stand there spouting grand-sounding garbage…” “Is it really that entertaining?!” His voice grew higher and higher.
Something churned within those black eyes.
“I just wanted to live properly.
I just wanted to survive together with everyone.” “Why is that so hard?!” His voice tore from his throat.
The emotions he had suppressed for so long, the pain, anger, helplessness, and unwillingness that had built up after learning the Uchiha Clan had still been destroyed, all finally erupted in this chamber where he was alone.
Only here could he stop suppressing his emotions and pour out the pain in his heart without restraint.
Was this pain because of the massacre of the Uchiha Clan?
Was it because he had failed to save anyone?
Or was it simply the release of all the emotions he had kept buried for so many years?
He could no longer tell.
He simply stood there, roaring again and again.
Without him realizing it, the three-tomoe Sharingan had already appeared in his eyes.
The three black tomoe slowly rotated in his irises, faster and faster, as if bearing some tremendous pressure.
His expression was ferocious.
His features twisted.
Veins bulged on his forehead.
His entire body looked like a bow drawn to its absolute limit.
Gradually, the three tomoe connected.
Black lines appeared between them.
Those lines were like bridges, linking the three tomoe together into an entirely new pattern.
The expression on Kurō’s face froze the instant the eerie Mangekyō took shape in his eyes.
‘Mangekyō Sharingan… awakened?’ He stood there, completely still.
The pattern in his eyes rotated faintly, giving off a cold, ghostly light.
The light was not dazzling, yet it made people afraid to look directly at it.
Feeling the overwhelming eye power in his eyes and the sudden surge of chakra in his body, Kurō could sense every cell within him rejoicing, cheering for this supreme Uchiha power.
It was an instinctive ecstasy from the depths of his bloodline.
Clearly, his heart was in so much pain.
Yet in the cracks of that pain, an instinctive pleasure instantly mixed in.
Pain and pleasure.
Grief and wild joy.
Despair and hope.
They were like two snakes tangled together inside his body, biting, thrashing, and merging.
“Hahaha…” He laughed.
“Ugh…” Then he cried.
Tears poured from those eerie Mangekyō Sharingan, sliding down his cheeks and dripping onto the floor with tiny sounds.
“Hahahahaha!” Kurō lay flat on the ground, his expression somewhere between crying and laughing.
That handsome face was now twisted beyond recognition.
The light shone on his face, and on the Mangekyō slowly turning in his eyes.
At that moment, he finally understood it for himself.
Why Senju Tobirama had said, “The Uchiha are a clan born evil.” The ecstasy brought by the overwhelming power that rose from immense negative emotion really could make someone unconsciously drown in it.
It was not a question of willpower.
It was the instinct of the bloodline.
A temptation carved into the genes, impossible to resist.
White-haired bastard, I misjudged you… You were right!!!