The Fire Nation Daimyo sat leisurely on an ornate cushion, waving a folding fan gently as a maid beside him peeled fresh fruit and placed each piece delicately into his mouth.
Lining the hall on both sides stood members of the Uchiha clan. Their stoic expressions, cold gazes, and sharp postures would normally unnerve most visitors. But not the Daimyo. To him, the presence of the Uchiha brought a rare sense of security.
Compared to the wandering ninja or overpaid samurai he'd previously hired as bodyguards, these were elite warriors, true shadows of power.
He turned his attention to a silent figure nearby. "One versus seven. Why are all of you Uchiha so quiet?"
The question was directed at Itachi, who had recently returned to the Daimyo's side. His previous abrupt departure had slightly irritated the Daimyo, but once he learned the reason, his annoyance faded.
After all, the Daimyo's archives contained records of the Mangekyō Sharingan and even whispers of the legendary Susanoo. Knowing such powers stood at his side? That was comfort beyond measure.
"Daimyo-sama," Itachi replied coolly, "each ninja has their own nature. But silence allows one to sense what words may overlook."
The Daimyo gave an approving nod, but his expression quickly changed when Itachi's eyes blurred and his knees buckled slightly.
"One-versus-seven! Are you alright?!"
Immediately, two nearby Uchiha rushed to steady him.
"I'm fine... just stood too long, perhaps," Itachi murmured, brushing aside their concern.
But inside, worry gnawed at him. He had read about the side effects of the Mangekyō, but this seemed... sudden. Was it a sign of something deeper? He needed to consult his father—or better yet, Andrew.
Back in Konoha, after a grueling sea voyage, Andrew, Kamasu, and Kaminarimon wasted no time and went straight to the hot springs.
"My god, my brain feels scrambled from that boat ride. It's like my left and right hemispheres swapped places," Andrew groaned, sinking into the warm water.
"Get used to it," Kamasu laughed. "But don't get too comfortable. The patriarch's looking for you—it seemed urgent."
Andrew groaned again, louder this time. "Ugh! What now? That man—a patriarch in title, but all he does is delegate everything to me! I'm not even officially an adult yet!"
Kaminarimon chuckled. "Underage? Want to bet Terumi Mei shows up from Mist and calls you 'Daddy'?"
"Hard pass."
Still, Andrew's mood shifted. Fugaku never panicked over nothing. If he was calling for him this urgently, it must be something serious.
Soon after, Andrew arrived at the Uchiha compound and found Fugaku pacing.
"You couldn't even let me enjoy a proper soak?" Andrew huffed.
"There are two pressing matters," Fugaku said grimly. "First, it's about Itachi. He's reporting blurred vision and sudden weakness."
Andrew's eyes narrowed immediately. Fugaku slid the letter from Itachi across the table. As Andrew read, concern settled in.
Itachi... vision problems? That couldn't be good.
"But Itachi rarely uses Mangekyō!" Andrew muttered. "Mist incident aside, he's been guarding the Daimyo—hardly a combat role. Could it be from overuse during the Shimura conflict?"
But no, even during Mist Shinobi's political chaos, Itachi's chakra and ocular use had been restrained. The Wutengu Armor did consume a fair amount of pupil power, but not to this level.
"Could this be... the incurable illness from the original timeline?"
In his previous life, Itachi's mysterious illness remained an unsolved enigma—even the fanbase could only theorize. And now, Andrew had no better answer.
"His Mangekyō doesn't appear to be declining," Andrew concluded at last. "That points to a physical issue—not ocular strain."
"Should we bring him back to Konoha for treatment?" Fugaku asked, his voice strained.
Andrew shook his head firmly. "No. Konoha's hospitals aren't equipped for this. And worse—if the Hokage faction catches wind of Itachi's condition, we lose a major part of our deterrence. If we're going to examine him, it has to be discreet—and handled by someone we can trust."
That narrowed it down fast.
There were only two names in the entire ninja world who had the medical skills for this: Tsunade and Orochimaru.
Despite the historical feud between Senju and Uchiha, Tsunade was not known to harbor much personal grudge. Her grandfather had been Hashirama Senju—but her grand-uncle was none other than Madara's best friend. She might just help.
Orochimaru, on the other hand, was a wild card. A scientific maniac, but still—under the eyes of Kotoamatsukami, even he could be made useful.
But there was one more possibility—the ultimate medical hack in the shinobi world: Hashirama Cells.
"Obito was able to spam Kamui like a madman," Andrew muttered aloud. "But half his body was made of Hashirama tissue. If Itachi had a dose of that regeneration, he might be able to hold out."
"I have a plan for Itachi," he said, eyes sharp. "What's the second matter?"
Fugaku nodded, relieved, then grew serious again.
"In the last few days, there have been signs that someone has entered the shrine's underground chamber. After careful surveillance... it's confirmed. Someone has been observing the Uchiha stone tablet."
Andrew's brow twitched.
"The stele again? Do you actually believe what's on that cursed rock?"
Only someone with Mangekyō could decipher the deeper layers of the text. The only people who came to mind were Obito—or worse, an outsider with stolen eyes.
"I did, once," Fugaku admitted. "During the worst of the village's suppression, I even considered following its so-called 'solution.' But... not anymore."
"Good." Andrew nodded. "It's time we got rid of that thing. Illusions and dreams—it's all Black Zetsu's manipulation. The longer it stays, the deeper it poisons."
Fugaku frowned. "And the man spying on it? What do we do about him?"
"Keep the stele for now," Andrew decided. "Have Shisui hide in the shrine. The next time that man shows up—hit him with Kotoamatsukami."
Fugaku's breath hitched.
If someone outside the clan was reading the Mangekyō-locked passages... that meant there was another Uchiha out there. One they didn't know about.
The implications were terrifying.
Andrew rose slowly, his mind racing.
Itachi's life. Obito's plans. Black Zetsu's lies. And now, another Mangekyō lurking in the shadows?
It was going to be a long war—but they would win it one move at a time.
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