Late into the night—
"Oi! Get lost, kid! This is an adult establishment!"
With that bark, two brawny enforcers hurled Uchiha Hero out the doorway like a sack of potatoes. He tumbled onto the dirt street, grumbling as he brushed off his robes.
"What the hell? Call yourselves professionals, but won't even let minors in?"
"He~tui!" he spat in frustration.
A few villagers inside turned to glance through the open curtain. Their expressions blended amusement and disdain as they watched the boy scowl back at the door.
"You really thought your Transformation Jutsu could fool us?" one of the guards sneered. "Get lost before we drag one of your clan elders down here."
That last part hit like a genjutsu. Hero flinched instinctively, shoulders tensing at the thought of an elder stomping down on his pride.
He shot them a venomous glare.
If only that kind of death were covered by heavenly insurance…
"You still loitering, kiddo?" the gatekeeper threatened, cracking his knuckles. "Should I call someone now?"
Hero didn't need a second warning. He turned on his heel and scurried off down the road, one hand covering his face like a shame mask.
By the time he reached the main street, the nightlife had dimmed. The full moon hovered high, casting pale light across Konoha's rooftops. A cold spring breeze whispered through the alleys, brushing the edge of Hero's sleeves.
That's when he saw him—
A tall figure stumbling out of a side alley, sake bottle swinging loosely in one hand.
Uchiha Seijuro.
The man's eyes swept over Hero's disheveled appearance—dust-stained cloak, scraped palms, faint bruises—and a lopsided grin curved his lips.
"Well, well. If it isn't the Uchiha clan's shining little star."
"Thrown out of the red-light district already?"
Hero's face tightened. "Tch. I was on a cat catch mission."
"Heh. Been there," Seijuro chuckled, breath laced with alcohol. "We all do dumb things when we're young."
But then… his smile faded.
"Especially when facing the kind of mission we've been handed."
The humor drained from his face, replaced by something unreadable—an emotion deeper than fear. Maybe bitterness. Maybe regret.
Then his gaze sharpened. "You're Hero, right?"
He stepped closer.
"Listen carefully."
He leaned in.
"Don't expect me to save you during this mission."
[Uchiha Seijuro has developed hostility toward you.]
[Uchiha Seijuro has developed hostility toward you.=
Hero raised a brow at the system prompt, then calmly replied, "Understood, Seijuro-senpai."
"I won't drag you down."
Seijuro's jaw clenched. "Heh… You really have no idea what you've done."
"I don't know why the elder selected you. This operation was originally designated for three elite jonin."
"Then you showed up with your little ninja game, and suddenly I, a damn chunin, have to join a mission I wasn't trained for!"
His voice dropped, colder than steel.
"You don't get it. The enemies waiting out there… they're monsters."
"And without the Sharingan, you're just another corpse waiting to be filled with holes."
Hero didn't answer immediately. His fingers curled.
Of course he knew.
The mission's destination, Hell Valley, in the Land of Hot Water, was home to the most cursed bloodline of the Warring States era:
The Chinoike Clan.
Their Ketsuryūgan, the Blood Dragon Eye, had haunted Uchiha legends for centuries. Compared to them, Sharingan without full mastery was laughable.
The Ketsuryūgan wasn't just a dojutsu—it was a weapon forged from suffering. Awakening under extreme emotion, it instantly granted its wielder powerful genjutsu, blood-based ninjutsu, and even explosive biological control.
Hypnosis. Puppeteering. Boil-point combustion.
Even young prodigies with two-tomoe Sharingan would be overwhelmed.
And worse still, the Chinoike didn't just rely on bloodline power.
They lived in Hell Valley, a region so twisted by history and loss that even birds avoided its skies. There, they survived as beasts—honing their taijutsu against wild predators, refining weapon skills beyond conventional standards.
Their shuriken jutsu? Master level—minimum.
Their terrain? A graveyard for chakra-based ninjutsu.
Their hatred? Eternal.
Hero had no illusions. Even with his Master-level Manipulated Shuriken Technique, he'd barely hold his ground.
Which made them the perfect opponent.
Seijuro took another swig from his bottle and slumped against a nearby fence post. "I shouldn't even be wasting my breath on you. You don't know what you've stepped into."
"I only awakened my second tomoe recently... and now I'm walking into that nightmare."
He groaned, pressing his palms to his forehead.
Hero approached slowly and rested a hand on Seijuro's shoulder. He didn't say anything at first. He just stood there, letting silence carry the apology he didn't know how to phrase.
Because he already knew—
He had altered this path.
He had pulled Seijuro into a storyline that wasn't supposed to include him.
After a moment, Hero whispered, "Seijuro-senpai... I won't let you down."
"If someone has to fall, it'll be me."
His tone was calm.
"You just focus on surviving. I've already made peace with my fate."
Seijuro blinked.
The sincerity in the boy's voice caught him off guard. For a moment, he stared, unsure what to say.
Then… his face darkened again.
"You don't get it yet," he muttered. "But you will."
He turned to walk away, shoulders hunched. His steps wobbled slightly as he drifted down the moonlit path like a ghost who'd already accepted his grave.
But just before vanishing into shadow, he paused.
"Hey, kid," he called back.
"…Why are you going this far?"
Hero froze.
That question—so simple, yet so devastating—lodged in his chest.
He looked up at the moon.
Cold wind brushed against his cheeks as he stared at the Hokage Monument in the distance, the stone faces towering above the village like silent gods.
Slowly, Hero curled a fist over his heart.
"…Why?"
He whispered.
His voice was low, but sharp. Like a blade forged in pain.
"I've always wondered… What can someone like me—average, powerless—truly achieve?"
"What does the village mean? What does the name Uchiha stand for anymore?"
"I thought about it. Over and over."
"And in the end, I reached one truth."
"If you don't have power, you can't protect anything."
"So I'll throw myself into the fires of war."
"I'll forge myself in blood."
"I'll give meaning to these eyes—even if they never awaken."
"I'll light the world with my death…"
"…and restore the honor of the Uchiha name."
Seijuro stared at the boy's silhouette.
For a moment, Hero looked like a monument himself—unmoving, proud, defiant beneath the cold moon.
"…Is that so?" Seijuro finally murmured.
A rare softness passed over his face. Something in him quietly settled.
"…I understand."
With that, he walked away.
Hero blinked.
"…Wait. What the hell do you understand?"