From the moment he first became aware of the world around him, Uchiha Ryo had seldom experienced confusion about his path.
He always understood the burden he carried.
Likewise, he knew exactly what was expected of someone in his position.
As the clan heir, he needed to stand above every other member of his generation.
Only by becoming the most capable could he inherit his father’s role.
Only then would the clan acknowledge his authority and entrust him with leading them through an age drenched in conflict.
In other words— Hesitation was a luxury he could never permit himself.
Because of that, he demanded perfection from himself at all times.
Yet fate often seemed particularly fond of mocking those who walked with certainty, taking pleasure in forcing them to lose their direction.
A dull ache throbbed behind his bandages.
Ryo slowly raised a hand and touched the cloth wrapped over his eyes.
He knew precisely what hid underneath.
Both eyes had been utterly ruined.
The wound stretched horribly across his face, destroying the eyeballs completely.
Had the injury gone even slightly deeper, it would have reached his brain.
And the one responsible for inflicting that damage…
Was himself.
Only a few days ago, after being driven into a desperate corner with no apparent means of escape, he had chosen to do it with his own hands.
This was the Warring States Era.
Across the continent, daimyō fought endless conflicts while plotting against one another behind closed doors.
Shinobi clans served as mercenaries, selling their skills to whichever noble offered sufficient payment.
Assassinations.
Poisonings.
Sabotage operations.
As long as compensation was provided, there were few tasks shinobi would refuse.
The Uchiha, being among the most powerful clans in existence, were no strangers to such work.
However, every powerful force eventually encountered an equal rival.
For the Uchiha, that rival was the clan intertwined with them through countless generations of warfare— The Senju.
The hostility between the two sides had reached astonishing depths.
Whenever an employer recruited the Uchiha, there was an overwhelming chance that the opposing side would hire the Senju in response.
For decades.
Perhaps centuries.
The two clans had spilled each other’s blood.
The Uchiha had risen through endless battles.
And along the way, their hatred toward the Senju had become so deeply rooted that separating the two seemed impossible.
This mission had been no different.
His squad had originally been assigned a simple objective: intercept enemy intelligence from the rear.
Instead, fate had placed a Senju supply convoy directly in their path as it returned from its route.
The two operations should never have intersected.
Yet the moment the Senju commander identified Ryo among the enemy forces, orders were immediately given to eliminate him.
Though if he judged the situation honestly, part of the fault belonged to him.
After confirming the convoy’s identity, he’d approached too closely, hoping to undermine their operation.
Once his presence was exposed, everything rapidly spiraled beyond control.
In the end, he successfully ruined the enemy’s mission completely.
The price for that success was being cornered by the Senju and forced into a desperate strategy that risked taking both sides down together.
“Heh…” A self-mocking smile appeared on his face.
From outside the room, the sounds of a heated discussion drifted through the walls.
“A Uchiha who has lost both eyes completely…” Suppressing the thoughts threatening to consume him, Ryo endured the pain and slowly pushed himself upright.
Even such a minor action left sweat gathering across his brow.
Still, a faint chuckle escaped him.
“If those Senju fools learned I survived that explosion, they’d probably be furious.” “If I ever return to the battlefield, I’ll make sure to remind them.” “But before that, I should find out what’s happening outside.
It won’t do if Father starts arguing with the elders because of me.” With his sight gone, the sharpening of his remaining senses had become impossible to ignore.
Most noticeably, his sense of touch.
Was the tatami always this rough?
That should be the wall…
If I keep following it, I ought to be fine— “Ow.” His hand struck something unexpected.
Feeling around carefully, he discovered a cold wooden surface positioned roughly halfway up his thigh.
A storage cabinet?
Why is that here…?
I’d better go around it.
Before he could continue his exploration, however, the familiar sound of a sliding door interrupted him.
Several hurried footsteps entered the room.
Then came a concerned voice he knew well.
“Ryo, your injuries are serious.
If you need something, call for someone.
Why did you try getting up by yourself?” “…Father.” Ryo turned toward the voice.
For a moment, he said nothing.
He simply didn’t know what words to offer.
After all, the root of this entire situation was his own decision to exceed the boundaries of his mission.
His recklessness had revealed his position.
Yes, the mission had succeeded.
Yes, even the additional objective he’d taken upon himself had succeeded.
And yes, he had survived.
But in exchange, he had lost the thing most precious to an Uchiha.
His eyes.
And he was the one who had destroyed them.
While those conflicting emotions churned inside him, footsteps approached.
Warm, calloused hands settled firmly upon his shoulders.
His father’s voice sounded again.
“Don’t dwell on it.” “For now, your only responsibility is to recover.” “For me and for the clan, the most important thing is that you returned alive.”