Shinra stood perfectly still at the edge of the scorched crater, his three-tomoe Sharingan spinning lazily in the dark.
The Senju Jonin was dead at his feet.
The main threat was eliminated, but the battlefield was still highly dangerous.
Shinra didn’t sheathe his kunai just yet.
His gaze drifted across the torn, muddy camp, locking onto the fierce struggle happening near the eastern tree line.
Madara, Izuna, and a single surviving Uchiha Chunin guard were backed into a corner, fighting desperately for their lives.
Standing against them was the last remaining Senju Elite Chunin.
The man was covered in cuts and bruises, but he was a veteran killer, and he was pushing the three Uchiha to their absolute limits.
Shinra narrowed his eyes, his heightened senses tracking every movement.
He wanted to see how his younger brothers handled true pressure, but his muscles were already tense, ready to fire off the Body Flicker Jutsu at a microsecond’s notice.
He wasn’t going to let anyone else die tonight.
“Die, Uchiha brats!” the Senju Chunin roared.
Knowing his Jonin captain had fallen, the man was fighting with desperate, suicidal rage.
His hands blurred through a sequence of hand seals.
“Earth Style: Ground Splitter!” The earth beneath Madara and Izuna violently cracked open.
Jagged spikes of solid rock shot upward like the teeth of a massive beast, aiming right to skewer the two young boys.
Madara’s eyes went wide.
His legs were burning from chakra exhaustion; he couldn’t jump away in time.
“Young Masters!
Move!” The lone Uchiha guard didn’t hesitate.
He threw himself forward, grabbing Madara and Izuna by their collars and violently shoving them backward out of the jutsu’s range.
By saving the boys, the guard lost his own balance.
He stumbled into the mud, his sword slipping from his grasp.
The Senju Elite Chunin saw the opening instantly.
He ignored the boys and charged directly at the fallen guard, his kunai raised high, aiming straight for the Uchiha’s exposed neck.
“No!” Madara yelled, his voice cracking.
Madara pushed off the muddy ground, trying to rush forward, but his exhausted legs betrayed him.
He stumbled.
In his mind, the horrific image of the guard about to be slaughtered overlapped with the agonizing memories of his younger brothers who had perished on the battlefield just a few months ago.
Weak.
The word echoed painfully in Madara’s head.
I am too weak to protect anyone.
They die because I am not fast enough.
Because I am not strong enough!
From a distance, Shinra watched the exact moment Madara’s mind reached its breaking point.
The awakening of an Uchiha’s eyes was never a flashy, explosive event.
There was no massive burst of chakra, no shouting, no glowing aura.
It was completely silent.
It was a dark, intense internal process.
Deep inside Madara’s brain, the overwhelming grief and self-hatred acted as a trigger.
A highly unique, potent chakra was suddenly released from his brain, traveling instantly along his optic nerves directly into his eyes.
Madara didn’t scream.
He simply stopped breathing for a fraction of a second.
The world around him—the falling rain, the splashing mud, the sneering face of the Senju assassin—everything suddenly slowed down to an agonizing crawl.
When Madara blinked, his pitch-black pupils were gone.
In their place were blood-red irises.
Inside each eye, two dark tomoe sat completely still, locking onto the enemy with cold, terrifying clarity.
Beside him, Izuna let out a quiet, sharp gasp.
The same silent mental shift had occurred within the seven-year-old.
His eyes shone a brilliant red, and a single tomoe rested in each eye.
With his new kinetic vision, Madara could see the exact trajectory of the Senju’s descending blade.
He could see the micro-movements of the man’s muscles.
But seeing the future and having the physical speed to stop it were two different things.
Madara’s young body was too tired to close the distance in time.
The Senju’s kunai was mere inches from the loyal guard’s throat.
Whoosh!
A sharp gust of wind suddenly tore through the clearing, scattering the falling rain.
The Senju Chunin froze.
His hand, gripping the deadly kunai, was suddenly stopped in mid-air.
He looked to his right, his eyes widening in pure horror.
Shinra had appeared out of thin air.
He hadn’t made a single sound.
He was simply standing there, his left hand clamped around the Senju’s wrist like an unbreakable iron vice.
“You fight well,” Shinra said, his voice cold and terrifyingly calm.
His three-tomoe Sharingan glowed brightly in the dark.
“But nobody else from my clan dies tonight.” With a sharp, brutal twist, Shinra snapped the Senju’s wrist.
The Chunin opened his mouth to scream, but no sound came out.
In one smooth, effortless motion, Shinra drove his own kunai directly into the center of the Senju’s chest, piercing his heart instantly.
Shinra let go of the man’s wrist, letting the lifeless body fall heavily into the mud.
The battle was finally over.
The forest fell deathly quiet, save for the ragged breathing of the two young brothers and the shocked Uchiha guard.
“Shinra-sama…” the guard gasped, staring up at the twelve-year-old boy who had just saved his life.
“You…
you’re alive.” “Get up, soldier,” Shinra said, offering the man a hand and pulling him easily to his feet.
“You did your job.
You protected my brothers.
The clan will reward your loyalty.” The guard bowed deeply, tears of sheer relief mixing with the rain on his face.
Shinra turned his attention to Madara and Izuna.
The red faded from their eyes, returning to black as their adrenaline finally crashed.
Madara dropped his scythe, gripping his knees as he tried to catch his breath, while Izuna just sat heavily in the dirt, looking completely drained.
Clap.
Clap.
Clap.
Shinra slowly clapped his hands, walking over to his brothers with a proud, warm smile.
“Not a bad performance,” Shinra praised them, stopping a few feet away.
“You both awakened your eyes today.
A two-tomoe and a one-tomoe.
That is incredible for your age.
I’m proud of you.” Madara’s head snapped up.
The cool, silent killer from a moment ago vanished, replaced instantly by a defensive, stubborn young boy.
His face turned bright red with embarrassment.
“I-I had him exactly where I wanted him!” Madara shouted, pointing a shaky finger at his older brother.
“It was a tactical setup!
I didn’t need your help, Shinra!
I was just about to counter-attack!” “A tactical setup that almost got our guard killed,” Shinra nodded slowly, rubbing his chin as if pondering a deep philosophy.
“Brilliant, Madara.
Truly, your mind is a terrifying weapon.” “I am going to hit you!” Madara growled, picking up his scythe, though his arms were shaking so much he could barely hold it straight.
“Big brother!” Izuna scrambled up from the dirt, completely ignoring Madara’s temper tantrum.
He ran over and looked at Shinra with wide, sparkling eyes.
“You’re really okay!
The elders said your chakra was totally empty!
How did you get here so fast?
Did you beat the Jonin?” Shinra looked down at Izuna, his teasing expression softening completely.
He reached out and ruffled Izuna’s spiky hair, making the younger boy swat at his hand with a happy pout.
“I’m perfectly fine, Izuna,” Shinra said gently.
“And yes, the Jonin is taking a permanent nap in the dirt over there.” “Show-off,” Madara muttered under his breath, looking away and crossing his arms.
He was trying incredibly hard to look tough and uncaring, but his eyes kept darting back to Shinra, checking for any hidden wounds or bleeding.
Shinra noticed, of course.
It was honestly hilarious.
Madara Uchiha, the future Ghost of the Uchiha, the man who would one day tame the Nine-Tails and shatter mountains, was currently acting like a prickly, tsundere little brother who didn’t want to admit he was glad his sibling was safe.
“If you’re going to cry, Madara, you can just hug me,” Shinra offered deadpan, opening his arms slightly.
“I won’t tell Father.” “I am not crying!” Madara shrieked, his voice cracking slightly.
“It’s the rain!
And I would rather hug a wild boar than hug you!” “A boar smells better than you right now, anyway,” Shinra replied without missing a beat.
Izuna burst out laughing, entirely forgetting the grim reality of the dead bodies around them for just a moment.
Even the surviving Uchiha guard couldn’t help but crack a small smile.
It felt normal again.
It felt like home.
Even though they were standing in the middle of a warzone, having their eldest brother back, standing tall and unbothered, made a massive weight lift off their shoulders.
“Alright, enough standing around,” Shinra said, his tone shifting back to that of the commanding eldest brother.
“Help the guard gather whatever supplies are left.
We need to clear this camp.” Madara dropped his stubborn act, nodding seriously.
“Right.
Do you think the Senju will send backup?” “Maybe,” Shinra said, glancing toward the dark canopy of the forest.
“But by the time they get here, we will be long go—” Shinra suddenly stopped speaking.
His head snapped toward the eastern tree line.
His Supreme Combat Awareness flared violently in the back of his mind, like a cold needle poking his brain.
Madara and Izuna instantly noticed the shift in his posture.
They grabbed their weapons, their young bodies tensing for another fight.
“What is it?” Madara whispered, his red eyes spinning to life once more.
“More Senju?” Shinra didn’t answer right away.
His heightened senses picked up a rapid, incredibly fast rustling high up in the branches.
It was small.
Too small to be a human, but it was moving with strange, directed purpose straight toward their location.
A dark shadow darted out from the dark leaves, diving rapidly toward Shinra’s shoulder.
Author’s Note: Thank you for reading the chapter!
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