Unknown Bloodstains, Eye of the Heart

The night grew heavy, deep within the Uchiha clan compound.

Inside the study of the clan head's mansion, candlelight flickered.

Uchiha Fugaku sat behind a wide desk, his expression grave as he flipped through a scroll.

It was the complete file on Uchiha Ryūha—every record from birth to the present day, chakra test data, and even comments from his Ninja Academy instructors.

"Parents deceased, minimal chakra reserves, excellent theoretical grades, consistently ranked at the bottom in practical exams..."

Fugaku's finger lingered on the line "Chakra Rating: D-minus," his brows knitting together slightly.

"With such aptitude, how could he possibly perform a technique that caused Setsuna to suffer a complete breakdown and even affected Yashiro?"

The candlelight cast Fugaku's shadow onto the wall, distorting and twisting with the dance of the flames.

A soft knock sounded at the study door.

"Enter."

The door opened.

Uchiha Ryūha walked in slowly, still wearing his dark, high-collared clan attire, plain-lens glasses perched on the bridge of his nose.

His demeanor was composed and unhurried, as if he were attending a casual gathering rather than facing an inquiry from the clan head.

"Clan Head." Uchiha Ryūha bowed slightly, his etiquette impeccable.

Uchiha Fugaku looked up, his eyes, deep as ancient wells, fixed on Ryūha.

His three-tomoe Sharingan activated silently, the scarlet pupils gleaming with a cold, sharp luster under the candlelight.

This was a probe, and a show of pressure.

Yet, Ryūha merely looked back calmly, his eyes behind the lenses clear and bottomless, showing no sign of evasion or influence by genjutsu.

"Sit." Fugaku closed the file and gestured to the chair opposite the desk.

Ryūha sat as instructed, his back straight, hands resting naturally on his knees.

"Tea, or water?" Fugaku picked up the teapot.

"Water will do, thank you, Clan Head." Ryūha smiled.

Fugaku poured two glasses of water and pushed one toward Ryūha.

This subtle gesture stirred something in Ryūha—the clan head was extending goodwill, or rather, setting the tone for the conversation to follow.

"Today's assessment was quite impressive." Fugaku picked up his glass but did not drink, instead rubbing the rim with his fingertips.

"Setsuna is a talented child, though his temperament is lacking. It is a good thing you taught him a lesson."

"You flatter me, Clan Head." Ryūha adjusted his glasses. "Setsuna is quite strong; I was merely lucky."

"Lucky?" Fugaku raised his eyelids. "No hand signs, no eye contact for a dojutsu, not even any obvious chakra fluctuations.

Yet you sent an Uchiha genius who has awakened the Sharingan into a frenzy, causing him to exhaust all his ninjutsu against thin air—you call this luck?"

The air in the study suddenly solidified.

The candlelight flickered more violently.

Ryūha was silent for two seconds, then sighed softly: "It seems I could not hide it from you, Clan Head."

He picked up his glass and took a sip, seemingly organizing his thoughts.

"So, Ryūha." Fugaku leaned forward slightly, his three-tomoe Sharingan seemingly intent on peering into Ryūha's very soul.

"I want the truth. What exactly did you use today? Is it some kind of Kekkei Genkai... or a ninjutsu you created yourself?"

This question was critical.

If it were a Kekkei Genkai, it meant a new possibility had emerged within the Uchiha bloodline, worthy of the clan's full investment.

If it were a self-created ninjutsu, it meant this boy's talent and temperament far exceeded what appeared on the surface, but it also meant he was unpredictable.

Ryūha set down his glass, clasping his hands together on his knees.

"It is a Kekkei Genkai," he said calmly. "A mutated, special bloodline trait that acts upon the spirit.

I call it—'Eye of the Heart'."

"'Eye of the Heart'..." Fugaku repeated under his breath, a look of contemplation flashing in his eyes. "Explain."

"The Clan Head should know that the Sharingan is a visual-type Kekkei Genkai, which releases ocular power through the eyes to influence an enemy's vision and even their spirit."

Ryūha began to weave his lie—or rather, to package the power of Kyōka Suigetsu in language a ninja could understand.

"But the 'Eye of the Heart' is different. It does not activate through vision; it acts directly upon the enemy's 'perception of the five senses'."

"'Perception of the five senses'?" Fugaku's brows furrowed deeper.

"Yes." Ryūha nodded. "Sight, hearing, smell, taste, and touch.

Humans perceive the world through these five senses and form their perception of reality based on that input.

The ability of the 'Eye of the Heart' is to 'dominate the five senses'."

He paused, watching Fugaku's increasingly grave expression, and continued to explain:

"I can make an enemy see things that don't exist, hear sounds that aren't there, and smell scents that don't exist... I can even make them misjudge the tactile sensations of their own body.

The reason Setsuna unleashed his ninjutsu at thin air today is because he 'saw' me transform into a black dragon.

He 'heard' me mocking him and 'felt' the black dragon's claws about to tear his body apart."

Fugaku's breath hitched slightly.

As the Uchiha clan head, he knew all too well how terrifying such an ability was.

It was similar to the kekkei genkai of the Kurama Clan, yet it appeared to be significantly stronger.

While the genjutsu of the Sharingan is powerful, it has two fatal weaknesses: it requires eye contact, and it can be broken by powerful chakra or ocular power.

But if what Liuyu said was true...

"No need for eye contact?" Fugaku pressed.

"None," Liuyu shook his head. "I only need the enemy to 'perceive' my chakra—or rather, my 'spiritual energy field.' Once that perception is established, the hypnosis is complete.

In a sense, the moment I stand before an opponent, the battle is already over."

This was a lie.

The activation of Kyōka Suigetsu requires the target to "witness the moment of the Zanpakutō's shikai," but Liuyu could never reveal that.

"Methods to break it?"

"Two," Liuyu held up two fingers. "First, seal all senses before making contact with me and fight like a true blind and deaf person—but that is no different from suicide.

Second, possess spiritual power far exceeding my own to forcibly shatter the hypnosis.

But based on current test results, the spiritual power of an average jōnin is insufficient to resist."

Fugaku fell silent.

He picked up his water glass and drained it in one gulp; the cold liquid slid down his throat, yet it could not suppress the shock in his heart.

If Liuyu was not exaggerating, the strategic value of this bloodline, known as the Eye of the Heart, might even surpass the Mangekyō Sharingan!

Not needing eye contact meant it could ignore the greatest activation restriction of the Sharingan.

Dominating the five senses meant the enemy could not even grasp what was "real."

And the most terrifying part—this bloodline likely could not be copied or seen through by the Sharingan!

"The cost?" Fugaku asked suddenly. "Every powerful ability has a price.

The Sharingan consumes chakra and ocular power, and the Mangekyō causes vision damage or even blindness.

What about your 'Eye of the Heart'?"

Liuyu marveled at Fugaku's shrewdness.

"There are two costs discovered so far," he said truthfully—or rather, a "truth" that had been carefully filtered.

"First, it consumes 'spiritual power,' or 'Yin-style chakra.'

My total chakra reserves remain low, but my spiritual energy is exceptionally vast.

Every time I use the 'Eye of the Heart,' it consumes this portion of energy."

"Second..." Liuyu took off his glasses and wiped them gently, "overuse leads to sensory disorder.

I briefly lose the ability to distinguish between hallucinations and reality, and I even see things... that I shouldn't."

This half-truth description perfectly explained why he usually wore glasses.

It wasn't for disguise, but for "stabilizing perception."

Of course, the reality was that Liuyu just felt he looked cooler with glasses on.

As a loyal fan of Aizen, he had lost count of how many times he had watched the segments featuring him in Bleach.

Fugaku stared at Liuyu, and after a long while, he nodded slowly.

"I understand."

He leaned back into his chair, his fingers tapping rhythmically against the tabletop, creating a steady tap-tap sound.

"You have hidden yourself very deeply," Fugaku finally said, his tone complex.

"It isn't hiding; it's self-preservation." Liuyu looked up, meeting the clan head's eyes directly.

"Lord Clan Head should be well aware of what happens in the Uchiha clan if an orphan from a branch family with meager chakra reveals special talents too early."

He didn't spell it out, but Fugaku understood.

Ostracization, suppression, or even an "accidental death."

The factional struggles within the clan were far more intense than outsiders ever saw.

The radicals would never allow an uncontrollable, freakish genius to grow up, especially one from such a lowly background.

"You are very clear-headed," Fugaku's assessment was devoid of emotion.

"I just want to survive, Clan Head," Liuyu's voice was soft, yet carried a certain weight, "and then, live with some dignity."

The original owner had long since given up and ended his life; since there were no close friends, he could weave whatever story he pleased.

There was no other way; with his current strength, he stood no chance against a Kage-level powerhouse.

He would have to act.

Another silence descended.

Fugaku tapped his fingers lightly against the table, a habitual gesture he performed when weighing major decisions.

"Your attitude toward Yashiro today was far too aggressive," he said, shifting the topic.

"If I hadn't been aggressive, that blade would already be sitting in the Police Force armory," Liuyu replied calmly. "And my fate would likely be house arrest for study, or becoming a tool in the hands of some big shot."

Fugaku did not refute this.

Because Liuyu was right.

"Do you hold resentment toward the clan?" Fugaku stared at him.

"No resentment, only regret," Liuyu shook his head slightly. "My parents died in battle for the clan, yet their pension was docked by thirty percent. Because my talent was lacking, the monthly resources I received were only a third of what the main family gets. When I was mocked within the clan as the 'Disgrace of the Uchiha', no one spoke up for me."

He paused, his voice remaining steady: "But I understand; this is the clan's law of survival—resources are tilted toward the strong. So I hold no grudge; I only want to prove that I deserve more."

A strange look flashed in Fugaku's eyes.

This boy was too clear-headed, so clear-headed that he didn't seem like a ten-year-old child.

There was no hot-blooded hatred, nor the servility of a sycophant, only a calculation of interests and self-positioning so calm it bordered on cold-blooded.

And such people were often the most useful, yet the hardest to control.