"Normal Dialogue"
'Inner thoughts'
~ Year 58 after Konoha's establishment ~
~ With Shisui Uchiha, at the Naka River ~
The shadows wrapped around Shisui like a shroud as he stood at the cliff's edge. His right eye socket throbbed with phantom pain, the empty cavity a stark reminder of what Danzo had stolen from him. Below, the Naka River flowed relentlessly, its waters promising an end to the burden he carries. He sensed Itachi before he saw him—the familiar chakra signature of his closest friend approaching.
"I was afraid you wouldn't come," Shisui said without turning.
Itachi stepped beside him, his face adorning a stoic expression that failed to hide the concern in his eyes. "You're injured."
"Danzo," Shisui confirmed, finally turning to face his friend. Blood trailed from his right eye, cutting a crimson path down his cheek like tears he refuses to shed. "He didn't trust my plan. Thought my eyes were too dangerous to leave in my hands."
Itachi's fingers curled into fists at his sides, the only outward sign of the rage building within. "The elders have gone too far."
"It's not just them." Shisui replied. "The clan is beyond reasoning with now. They're determined to move forward with the coup."
For a moment, they stood in silence, two young men bearing the impossible weight of their clan's legacy and their village's future.
"I tried to stop it the way we planned," Shisui continued, his voice growing fainter. "With my eyes, I could have altered our clan's course without anyone knowing, without bloodshed. But now..." He gestured to his missing eye.
"We can find another way," Itachi insisted, stepping closer, his conviction wavering in his voice.
Shisui shook his head, a sad smile playing at his lips. "There's no time. The coup is imminent. If the Uchiha rebel, it will trigger a civil war. More children will experience what we did in the last war." His remaining eye softens at the memory. "We swore we'd never let that happen again."
"I can speak with my father—"
"You've tried. We both have." Shisui straightens, his decision made long before this meeting. "There's only one path left."
Itachi's breath catches as understanding dawns. "Shisui—"
"I still have one eye left." Shisui raised his hands, his fingers hovering near his left eye. "And I want you to have it."
The air between them grew thick with unspoken protests. Itachi's expression shifted between disbelief and anguish, emotions he rarely allowed himself to display.
"You're the only one I can trust with this," Shisui continued. "My eye can still make a difference. You can use it to protect the village... to protect our clan from themselves."
"This isn't right," Itachi whispers, his voice breaking. "There must be another way."
Shisui's laugh was hollow. "Always looking for another way out. That's what I've always admired about you." His expression grew serious. "But sometimes, Itachi, sacrifice is the only path forward."
In the next moment, Shisui activates his Mangekyo Sharingan. The tomoe in his eye spins and transforms into its unique pattern, a power that could have changed everything if given the chance.
"This is my choice," he said firmly. "My gift to you, and to the future."
The extraction was quick but agonizing. Shisui's hands were steady even as pain radiated through his skull. Blood dripped between his fingers as he cupped his remaining eye, now separated from him. His socket burned with fire, his vision plunged into complete darkness. He hears Itachi's sharp intake of breath, feeling his friend's trembling hands accepting the burden he offered.
"Protect the village," Shisui said, straightening despite the pain. "And if you can, protect the Uchiha name."
His hands were numb, but he felt a warmth in his chest, an uncomfortable heat that he recognizes as guilt—guilt for leaving this burden to his friend, guilt for not finding a better way.
"I will," Itachi promises, his voice thick with emotion rarely displayed. "I swear it."
Shisui nods, taking a step backward. The edge of the cliff pressed against his heels. "I've always been able to see the future, Itachi. Even now, I can see a glimmer of hope. Don't lose sight of it."
"Shisui, wait—"
"They'll come after my body for my eyes. This way, no one will find me." His smile was genuine, peaceful even. "You're my best friend. Thank you for everything."
With those words, Shisui leaned back into nothingness. The sensation of falling was surprisingly gentle, almost like flying. The rush of the river grew louder, drowning out Itachi's voice. In his final moments of consciousness, he prayed that his sacrifice would be enough, that Itachi would find a way where he could not.
~ Year ??? ~
~ With Shisui Uchiha, ??? ~
Shisui jolt awake with a gasp. Death should have been peaceful—at least that's what he'd always believed—but this was anything but. His head throbbed with each heartbeat, a drum of pain that far outweighed every other headaches he had in the past. He blinks rapidly, disoriented by the simple fact that he could see, that light filtered through not one but two functioning eyes.
'That can't be right.' He'd given his remaining eye to Itachi before he fell.
His fingers instinctively reached for his face, trembling as they traced the outline of his eyes—both present, both intact. No bandages, no empty sockets, no phantom pain. Just his eyes, responding to his commands, allowing him to take in unfamiliar surroundings.
"What is this?" he whispered, his voice raspy as though unused for days. The sound mingled with the rustling leaves. He was in a dense forest, surrounded by towering trees—a bed of soft moss beneath him, a small clearing in his view, a fallen log nearby, rays of sunlight filtering through the canopy, feeling too warm, too real for the afterlife he expected.
The headache intensifies, bringing with it a flood of memories that crashed against his consciousness. He remembers everything with painful clarity—Danzo's betrayal, the stolen eye, the impending coup that threatened to tear Konoha apart. He remembers his decision, falling backwards into the Naka River, the cold embrace of water filling his lungs.
He remembers dying.
"This isn't possible," he muttered, pushing himself to a sitting position. His body felt simultaneously foreign yet familiar. The surrounding trees swayed slightly around him, reality bending at the edges like a genjutsu he could not dispel.
More memories surfaced as his mind struggled to orient itself. His parents, long dead before the clan's troubles began. His comrades in the ANBU, faces hidden behind porcelain masks. The countless missions, the blood on his hands, all justified by a Will of Fire he believed in wholeheartedly. And Itachi—his best friend, the one person who understood the impossible choice they faced.
"Itachi," he said the name aloud, grounding himself in that one certainty. He had entrusted everything to his friend—his eye, his will, the future of their clan and village. Had Itachi succeeded where he had failed? Or had the Uchiha rebellion proceeded anyway, plunging Konoha into civil war?
Shisui swung his legs over the edge of the fallen log, noticing for the first time that he was wearing his standard Uchiha outfit—black shirt with the clan symbol emblazoned on the back, dark pants, his feet resting comfortably in shinobi sandals. Even his weapons pouch laid on a nearby rock, as if someone had meticulously preserved his identity down to the smallest detail.
He pushed himself to his feet, testing his balance. His body responded without protest, no hint of injury or the trauma of drowning. That, more than anything, convinced him that this wasn't some last-moment hallucination as his brain shuts down. This was something else entirely.
"A genjutsu?" he wondered aloud, though it felt too continuous, too real for even the most sophisticated illusion. He forms the release sign anyway, channeling chakra through his system. "Kai!"
Nothing changed. The forest remained stubbornly real around him. He tries again, pushing more chakra into the release, enough that it should disrupt any illusion short of specialized genjutsu or those of the Mangekyo.
Still nothing.
Shisui moved to the edge of the clearing, looking out at a landscape he did not recognize—a forest with trees unlike anything in the Five Great Nations, animals dressed in unfamiliar patterns moving through paths that followed no pattern he knew. The sky above was the same endless blue he remembers, but somehow even that seemed different, as if the very light had a quality he had never experienced before.
"Where am I?" he whispered, pressing his palm against the rough bark of a tree. His reflection in a nearby pool of water stared back at him—his face unmarred, both eyes dark and alert. He activates his Sharingan experimentally, watching as his irises flood with red, the familiar tomoe spinning into place. The chakra flowed effortlessly, responding to his will as it always had.
He turned from the clearing, scanning the forest more carefully now. There were no signs of people nearby, he realizes with a start—just the dense thicket. He was about to investigate this impossibility when he blinked, a reflexive action that changed everything.
In that millisecond of darkness, something shifted in the forest. When his eyes opened again, a man stood before him—tall, casually dressed, with an expression of mild amusement.
Shisui's reaction was instantaneous. His Sharingan flared brighter, body dropping into a defensive stance, kunai somehow in his hand though he did not remember drawing it. Every sense strained to detect the man's chakra signature, to anticipate his movements, to identify the technique that allowed him to appear so suddenly.
But there was nothing—no chakra presence, no killing intent, no hint of any teleportation jutsu that could have explained his appearance. It was as if the man existed in a different layer of reality altogether, visible but untouchable by Shisui's senses.
"Who are you?" Shisui demanded, voice steady despite the alarm bells ringing through his mind.
The man's smile widens fractionally, and something about that small movement sent a chill down Shisui's spine. Whoever—whatever—this was, Shisui suddenly understood that he was facing something beyond his experience, something that makes even his Sharingan seem like a child's toy in comparison.
~ End of Chapter 01 ~