Night deepened over the Uchiha Compound.
Candlelight flickered in the clan head's study.
Uchiha Fugaku sat behind the broad desk, his expression grave as he read through a scroll.
It was Uchiha Ryūha's complete file: every record from his birth to the present, his chakra test results, and even his Ninja Academy teachers' comments.
"Both parents dead, meager chakra reserves, excellent theoretical scores, consistently at the bottom in practical classes..."
Fugaku's finger paused on the line, "Chakra Capacity Rating: D-minus." His brow creased slightly.
"With talent like this, how could he perform a jutsu that left Setsuna completely broken—and even affected Yashiro?"
The candlelight cast Fugaku's shadow on the wall, warping it with every flicker of the flame.
Someone knocked softly on the study door.
"Come in."
The door opened.
Uchiha Ryūha walked in at an unhurried pace, still wearing his dark, high-collared clan uniform, with plain-lensed glasses perched on his nose.
He seemed completely at ease, as if he were not there to face the clan head's interrogation but had simply come to an ordinary gathering.
"Clan Head." Uchiha Ryūha bowed slightly, his manners impeccable.
Uchiha Fugaku looked up, his eyes deep as an ancient well fixed on Ryūha.
The Three-Tomoe Sharingan opened silently, its scarlet pupils gleaming coldly in the candlelight.
It was both a test and a show of pressure.
Yet Ryūha simply returned his gaze calmly. His eyes behind the lenses were clear, without the slightest hint of evasion or any sign that he was affected by genjutsu.
"Sit." Fugaku closed the file and pointed to the chair across the desk.
Ryūha sat as instructed, his back straight and his hands resting naturally on his knees.
"Tea or water?" Fugaku picked up the teapot.
"Water would be fine. Thank you, Clan Head." Ryūha smiled.
Fugaku poured two cups of water and pushed one toward Ryūha.
The small gesture stirred something in Ryūha. The clan head was showing goodwill—or, rather, setting the tone for what was to come.
"Today's assessment was impressive." Fugaku lifted his cup but did not drink, merely rubbing his fingertips along its rim.
"Setsuna has good talent, but his temperament could use some work. Teaching him a lesson was the right thing to do."
"You flatter me, Clan Head." Ryūha pushed up his glasses. "Setsuna is very strong. I was just lucky."
"Lucky?" Fugaku raised his eyes. "No hand seals, no eye contact for a genjutsu, and not even any noticeable chakra fluctuations.
"You made a Uchiha genius with the Sharingan fall into a frenzy and unleash all his Ninjutsu at empty air—and you call that luck?"
The air in the study suddenly grew taut.
The candle flame flickered even more wildly.
Ryūha was silent for two seconds, then let out a soft sigh. "I knew I couldn't hide it from you, Clan Head."
He lifted his cup and took a sip, seeming to gather his thoughts.
"Then, Ryūha." Fugaku leaned forward slightly, his Three-Tomoe Sharingan seeming to peer into Ryūha's very soul.
"I want the truth. What exactly did you use today? Some sort of Kekkei Genkai... or a Ninjutsu you created yourself?"
The question mattered.
If it was a Kekkei Genkai, it meant a new possibility had emerged in the Uchiha bloodline, something the clan would be justified in devoting all its resources to cultivating.
If it was a Ninjutsu he had created, it meant the boy's talent and temperament far exceeded what he showed on the surface—but also made him unpredictable.
Ryūha set down his cup and interlaced his fingers on his lap.
"It's a Kekkei Genkai," he said calmly. "A mutated, special Kekkei Genkai that acts on the mind.
"I call it the 'Eye of the Heart.'"
"The Eye of the Heart..." Fugaku murmured, a thoughtful look in his eyes. "Tell me more."
"You should know, Clan Head, that the Sharingan is a visual Kekkei Genkai. It releases Eye Power through the eyes to affect an enemy's vision and even their mind."
Ryūha began weaving his lie—or, rather, dressing Kyōka Suigetsu's abilities in terms a ninja could understand.
"The Eye of the Heart is different. It doesn't activate through sight. Instead, it directly affects an enemy's 'sensory perception.'"
"Sensory perception?" Fugaku's brow furrowed further.
"That's right." Ryūha nodded. "Sight, hearing, smell, taste, and touch.
"People use these five senses to perceive the world, and form their understanding of reality based on those perceptions.
"The Eye of the Heart's ability is to 'control the five senses.'"
He paused, watching Fugaku's expression grow more serious, then continued:
"I can make an enemy see something that isn't there, hear a sound that doesn't exist, or smell an odor that isn't real... I can even make him misjudge the sensations coming from his own body.
"Setsuna unleashed Ninjutsu at empty air today because he 'saw' me turn into a black dragon.
"He 'heard' me mocking him and 'felt' the dragon's claws about to tear his body apart."
Fugaku's breath caught slightly.
As the Uchiha Clan Head, he knew all too well how terrifying such an ability was.
It was similar to the Kurama Clan's Kekkei Genkai, but seemed even stronger.
Although Sharingan genjutsu was powerful, it had two fatal weaknesses: first, it required eye contact; second, powerful chakra or Eye Power could break through it.
But if what Ryūha said was true...
"No eye contact required?" Fugaku pressed.
"No." Ryūha shook his head. "I only need the enemy to 'sense' my chakra—or, rather, my 'field of spiritual energy.' Once that connection is established, the hypnosis is complete.
"In a sense, the moment I stand before my opponent, the fight is already over."
That was a lie.
Kyōka Suigetsu had to be activated by "witnessing the moment its Shikai was released," but Ryūha couldn't possibly say that.
"How can it be broken?"
"Two ways." Ryūha held up two fingers. "First, seal off all your senses before coming into contact with me, then fight like someone who's truly blind and deaf—but that would be no different from suicide.
"Second, have far greater spiritual power than me and forcibly break through the hypnosis.
"But based on the tests I've conducted so far, the spiritual power of an ordinary Jonin isn't enough to resist it."
Fugaku fell silent.
He picked up his cup and drained it. The cold water slid down his throat, but it did nothing to calm the shock in his heart.
If Ryūha wasn't exaggerating, then the strategic value of this Kekkei Genkai called the "Eye of the Heart" might even surpass the Mangekyō Sharingan!
Not needing eye contact meant it could bypass the Sharingan's greatest activation restriction.
Controlling the five senses meant an enemy couldn't even grasp what was "real."
And most terrifying of all, this Kekkei Genkai might be impossible for the Sharingan to copy or see through!
"What's the price?" Fugaku asked suddenly. "Every powerful ability comes at a cost.
"The Sharingan consumes chakra and Eye Power. The Mangekyō damages your eyesight and can even cause blindness.
"What about your Eye of the Heart?"
Ryūha marveled at Fugaku's sharpness.
"I've discovered two costs so far." He told the truth—or, rather, the "truth" he had chosen to share.
"First, it consumes 'spiritual energy,' or what you might call 'Yin Release Chakra.'
"My overall chakra reserves are still meager, but my spiritual energy is unusually abundant.
"Every time I use the Eye of the Heart, it's this energy that gets consumed."
"Second..." Ryūha removed his glasses and gently wiped them. "Overuse causes my senses to become disordered.
"For a short time, I can't tell hallucinations from reality. I might even see things... I shouldn't."
This half-true explanation perfectly accounted for why he wore glasses all the time.
They weren't a disguise; they were there to "stabilize his perception."
Of course, the truth was that Ryūha thought glasses made him look cooler.
As a devoted Aizen fan, he had watched the scenes featuring him in Bleach countless times.
Fugaku studied Ryūha for a long while, then slowly nodded.
"I understand."
He leaned back in his chair and tapped the desktop with his fingers, each knock steady and rhythmic.
"You've hidden yourself well," Fugaku finally said, his tone complicated.
"I wasn't hiding. I was protecting myself." Ryūha raised his head and met the clan head's gaze.
"You should know, Clan Head, what happens in the Uchiha Clan to an orphan from a branch family with meager chakra reserves if he reveals any unusual talent too early."
He didn't spell it out, but Fugaku understood.
Exclusion, suppression, even an "accidental death."
The factional struggles within the clan were far fiercer than outsiders realized.
The hardliners would never let an uncontrollable, exceptional talent grow up, especially one of low birth.
"You're very clear-eyed," Fugaku said, his judgment revealing nothing of his feelings.
"I just want to survive, Clan Head." Ryūha's voice was soft, yet carried a certain weight. "And then live with some dignity."
His predecessor had already wanted to end his life. He had no close friends anyway, so he could make up whatever story he wanted.
There was no helping it. With his current strength, he had no chance against a Kage Level opponent.
He could only put on an act.
Silence fell once more.
Fugaku's fingers tapped lightly on the desktop, a habit of his when weighing an important decision.
"Your attitude toward Yashiro today was too forceful," he said, changing the subject.
"If I hadn't been forceful, that sword would already be in the Police Force warehouse.
"And my fate would probably be to be kept under guard for study, or turned into a tool for some big shot," Ryūha replied calmly.
Fugaku didn't argue.
Because Ryūha was right.
"Do you resent the clan?" Fugaku stared at him.
"I don't resent it. I only regret what happened." Ryūha shook his head slightly. "My parents died fighting for the clan, and thirty percent of their compensation was withheld.
"Because my talent was poor, the resources I received each month were only a third of what a main family member got.
"When I was mocked as the 'Disgrace of the Uchiha' within the clan, no one spoke up for me."
He paused, his voice still even. "But I understand. This is how the clan survives—resources go to the strong.
"So I don't resent it. I just want to prove that I deserve more."
A strange look flashed through Fugaku's eyes.
This boy was far too clear-eyed, not at all like a ten-year-old.
There was no hotheaded hatred, nor any groveling humility—only a cool, almost ruthless calculation of interests and a clear understanding of his own position.
And people like that were often the easiest to use—and the hardest to control.
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