Approximately six years before the Uchiha Clan Massacre.
Uchiha District, Konohagakure.
"Congratulations, Clan Head! The rise of the Uchiha is just around the corner!"
"Indeed! Graduating after only one year at the Academy—Itachi is no less impressive than Hatake Kakashi was!"
"Haha! If we're talking about the strongest clan in Konoha, it has to be the Uchiha!"
Inside the residence of Clan Head Uchiha Fugaku, cups clinked and laughter filled the air. Praise and flattery poured forth without end.
Today was the graduation day of Fugaku's eldest son—Uchiha Itachi.
After enrolling in the Academy for only a single year, Itachi had graduated early and officially become a Genin. Such brilliance was more than enough to earn him the title of the greatest prodigy in Uchiha history. Naturally, the clan gathered to celebrate.
"Uchiha Itachi… heh."
From a dimly lit corner of the hall, Uchiha Yusuke let out a cold, dismissive chuckle.
He made no move to join the crowd. Instead, he remained alone, quietly observing as his thoughts drifted.
There was no denying Itachi's talent.
But talent alone meant nothing.
The boy was not of one heart with the Uchiha. He had been thoroughly indoctrinated by the so-called Will of Fire.
Word had already spread—earlier today, during the graduation ceremony, the Third Hokage, Hiruzen Sarutobi, had praised Itachi, saying:
"Even at seven years old, he can already think like a Hokage."
To most ears, such words sounded like promise. Like cultivation. Like the subtle grooming of a future successor.
Many within the Uchiha clan had taken it exactly that way. Some were even convinced the position of Fifth Hokage was already within reach.
But Yusuke knew better.
As the disciple of the Second Hokage, Tobirama Senju, Hiruzen might not have mastered his teacher's Water Release techniques or Tobirama's forbidden jutsu—but when it came to policies targeting the Uchiha, he had inherited Tobirama's wariness perfectly.
No—
He had surpassed it.
Tobirama had merely been cautious of the Uchiha.
The current Konoha leadership, with Hiruzen at its center, harbored something deeper.
Suspicion.
Fear.
From the time of Tobirama onward, the Uchiha had been branded as a clan "cursed by hatred"—a clan with innate darkness.
And yet people truly believed Hiruzen would pass the mantle of Hokage to a clan long deemed inherently dangerous?
"Uchiha Itachi…"
Yusuke's gaze lingered on the boy surrounded by admirers.
"The great filial son."
His tone carried unmistakable sarcasm.
Then he turned and walked away.
If Fugaku hadn't personally invited him, he would never have attended such a pointless celebration.
As one of the clan's elite Jōnin—and the Vice Captain of the Konoha Military Police Force—his standing within the Uchiha was anything but low.
Stepping outside, he paused and glanced back at the brightly lit residence.
The laughter echoed into the night.
"Time is running out," Yusuke murmured to himself. "I have to move soon."
…
Deep within the Uchiha District stood a refined two-story house.
This was Yusuke's home.
Seated cross-legged in the center of a quiet room, he struggled to suppress the excitement rising in his chest.
"Tonight… it should finally awaken."
"The Mangekyō Sharingan."
"System."
At his silent call, a mysterious translucent panel unfolded within his consciousness.
Four lines of text floated before him:
Fire Release: Chakra Mode (47.2% Proficiency)
Three-Tomoe Sharingan (99.9% Proficiency)
Konoha-Style Taijutsu (74.3% Proficiency)
Uchiha-Style Kenjutsu (92.5% Proficiency)
The interface was simple—just those four entries.
And the system itself had only one function:
When any ability reached 100% proficiency, it would break through its limits and evolve.
His Fire Release: Chakra Mode had already evolved once—from years of mastering the Uchiha clan's Fire Release techniques.
A state that cloaked his body in blazing chakra, amplifying offense and mobility.
Now—
His gaze was fixed on the Three-Tomoe Sharingan.
99.9%.
"So it's today."
He inhaled slowly.
"Sharingan."
Chakra surged through his chakra network. His pupils shifted instantly.
Three black tomoe emerged, circling the crimson iris as they began to rotate.
He carefully measured the strain.
The rate of ocular power consumption.
The chakra drain.
Then he smiled.
"As expected. I will awaken it tonight."
Sixteen years.
Sixteen years since transmigrating into this world.
And at last, he would obtain that forbidden power.
The Mangekyō Sharingan.
Against most Jōnin-level opponents, it granted overwhelming advantage.
Without Kage-level strength—
You were nothing but prey.
Unless he encountered a monster like Pain, the Mangekyō alone would allow him to walk the shinobi world unchallenged.
A surge of pride rose within him.
But suddenly—
His expression stiffened.
"No. Don't get arrogant."
He exhaled sharply and shook his head.
"So what if it's Kage-level? In the Fourth Shinobi War, even the Five Kage are reduced to bystanders. What am I thinking?"
A chill crept down his spine.
The power of the Sharingan was intoxicating.
And dangerously so.
Perhaps it was precisely this overwhelming strength that had bred arrogance within the clan… until it ultimately led them to destruction.
"To change the fate of the Uchiha…"
He lowered his gaze.
"The road ahead is long."
Having felt that intoxicating power firsthand, he understood all too well the pride rooted deep within the clan's blood.
One-on-one against a Sharingan user?
Run.
That was the shinobi consensus.
Six years.
Only six years remained until the Night of the Massacre.
Within those six years—
He had to find a way to save the Uchiha.
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