Konohagakure — upstream of the Naka River, deep in a forest no one ever visited.
"Who are you?"
Whoosh—!
A sharp gust tore through the treetops as Uchiha Shisui landed lightly on a branch, eyes locked on the figure ahead.
A man wearing a white mustache mask.
Shisui's heart sank.
That mask…
Seven years ago, during the Nine-Tails disaster, Shisui had caught a distant glimpse of a mysterious fighter who suppressed the Nine-Tails with terrifying ease.
And now—on his way to the Hokage Tower to report that the Uchiha were on the verge of rebellion—Shisui had noticed a shadow slipping out of the Uchiha district. Instinct and suspicion had made him follow.
He hadn't expected it to be that person.
Only this ti, the man felt even more imposing than before—taller, broader, the kind of presence that made the air itself feel heavier.
"Shisui," the masked man said calmly, almost amused. "Do you really not recognize ?"
Shisui's gaze sharpened. "Answer my question. Who are you?"
The man sighed, then reached up.
Click.
He removed the mask.
And Shisui's world stalled.
"You…?"
His pupils shrank. He stumbled back several steps, like he'd just seen a ghost.
"Impossible… This can't be real…"
The face beneath the mask was unmistakable.
Uchiha Ren.
The "taijutsu specialist" everyone had long written off as an oddity—an Elite Jōnin who supposedly didn't bother with serious ninjutsu training, who kept his head down and avoided clan politics.
And yet… seven years ago, that sa man had suppressed the Nine-Tails.
Just thinking about it made Shisui's scalp prickle.
Ren watched him quietly, then smiled. "Now do you believe your eyes?"
Shisui forced his breathing steady, voice turning cold. "You're lying. You don't even train ninjutsu seriously—how could you be the man from that night?"
"And why bring out here? What are you trying to do?"
His tone tightened with anger. In his mind, this had to be a provocation—so sick attempt to ss with him when the clan was already teetering on the edge.
Ren didn't bother denying anything. "You were on your way to see the Third Hokage, weren't you?"
Shisui's expression flickered.
Ren's eyes narrowed, voice turning sharp. "The clan's finally reached its breaking point. You're going to 'report' it… which ans you're going to sell them out."
"What?" Shisui's eyes flashed with panic, then he snapped back—righteous and fast. "Clan Head Fugaku told to seek the Hokage's guidance. That's not 'selling anyone out'!"
Ren looked at him like he'd said sothing pathetic. "Don't insult with that."
Shisui's jaw tightened. He turned as if to leave.
"I don't have ti for this, Ren. The situation is critical."
He needed to reach the Hokage Tower—now. If things spiraled any further, he might be forced to use the clan's strongest genjutsu—Kotoamatsukami—to stop Fugaku and prevent civil war.
But Ren's voice stopped him like a blade across the road.
"One last question," Ren said, calm again. "If you had to choose between the village and the clan… which would you choose?"
Shisui paused. Then he turned back, face solemn—almost proud.
"Isn't it obvious?" he said. "If Konoha and the Uchiha can't coexist, I choose Konoha."
His voice gained conviction as he spoke, like a creed.
"Because I'm Uchiha Shisui of Konoha, not 'Shisui of the Uchiha.' If the clan insists on rebellion, it has to be cut down quickly—before the whole village burns."
Ren stared at him for a long mont.
Then he exhaled, slow and disappointed.
"I don't understand you at all," Ren said. "With that mindset, you should've changed your surna long ago—Sarutobi Shisui… or Shimura Shisui."
His gaze turned cold.
"Wearing the Uchiha na while spitting on the Uchiha… that isn't loyalty. It's humiliation."
Shisui's expression finally cracked. Anger surged through him.
"Ren." His voice dropped. "I don't want to kill you."
He took a step forward, chakra rising like heat off stone.
"Don't think our sparring match ans anything. You think I used my full strength back then?"
His eyes sharpened into sothing dangerous.
"In front of the Mangekyō Sharingan, your taijutsu is a joke."
Ren didn't flinch.
Instead, he tossed the white mask aside like it no longer mattered.
"Oh?" Ren said softly. "And you think I showed you my real strength that night?"
He lifted his head, eyes steady, voice almost casual—like he was stating a fact the world would have to accept.
"Let be clear."
"I also have the Mangekyō Sharingan."
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