Ordinary shinobi often find it difficult to endure the side effects brought on by the Uchiha's Sharingan.
Not just regular shinobi—even someone like Hatake Kakashi—it's hard to say whether the Sharingan is truly a boon or a burden for him.
In fact, even members of the Uchiha clan themselves can suffer serious consequences if they recklessly overuse the Sharingan after awakening it.
Because of all this, when Hane Genma saw a pair of Mangekyō Sharingan, his first reaction wasn't desire—it was mostly surprise and caution.
If this had been before he became the "White Zetsu Knight," he likely wouldn't have stayed so calm in the face of Mangekyō Sharingan. But now that he had found a relatively stable path to becoming stronger, there was no need to take a more dangerous one.
Theoretically speaking, since Genma could transform into White Zetsu, it was possible he could withstand the risks of the Sharingan.
After all, White Zetsu had remarkable adaptability to things like the Sharingan or Hashirama's cells.
But realistically, given his current situation, could Genma afford to provoke the Uchiha clan without any consequences?
Even if he managed to get his hands on a Sharingan for free, there was no guarantee he could avoid the clan's pursuit. No matter how discreetly he used it, word would get out eventually.
If someone casually pretended to be an Uchiha, the clan might not bother to investigate too thoroughly. But stealing a pair of Mangekyō Sharingan? That would be a different matter entirely.
The Uchiha were already mentally unstable as it was—Genma had no desire to push them over the edge.
Besides, his optic nerves weren't like those of the Uchiha. What, was he supposed to just pop out some new eyes and plug them in? He didn't have that kind of surgical ability.
So, whether based on personal ethics or rational judgment, Genma was not the type to deal in black market body parts.
Besides, he didn't really fear the Sharingan anymore. He had no desire for it at all.
Which brought him to the real question—what was he supposed to do with this Uchiha shinobi?
If he left her here, she likely wouldn't survive—she was seriously wounded.
Genma thought for a moment, then said,
"Treat her injuries. Follow the same procedure we used for the 'Tobirama Senju incident.'"
Last time it had been an "intrusion," this time it was a "skyfall." Either way, there wasn't much difference.
In any case, a living Uchiha was far more valuable than a dead one.
Genma figured, since they'd managed to get a lot out of Tobirama Senju last time, now that it was the Uchiha's turn, it wouldn't be fair to let them off lightly, right?
Sure, the Uchiha and Senju clans had deep-rooted hatred for one another—but what did that have to do with a ragtag band of wandering shinobi?
Genma decided to just do a good deed and view himself as a battlefield Red Cross.
His only concern was the mental state of this Uchiha. Like he'd said before—Uchiha emotions tended to swing wildly. What if she woke up and went berserk?
Especially an Uchiha who had awakened the Mangekyō Sharingan—those types were practically textbook cases of clinical paranoia.
Even if she didn't go on a rampage, pulling some kind of "Four Laughing Demons" act upon waking up would still be unnerving. Honestly, their laughter was downright terrifying.
Call it prejudice if you want, but any sane person walking into a psychiatric ward would still try to steer clear of the patients.
The only two female members of the camp came over. Like they were handling a dead pig, they lifted the fallen shinobi and set her aside, then began dressing her wounds.
Genma scratched his head, then said to the group:
"We'll take a short break. We move out in two hours."
He'd noticed that ever since a certain point in time, his luck and experiences had taken a sharp turn. And looking back now... maybe that change hadn't been such a good thing after all?
Genma mused to himself that he should never have had even the slightest connection with the Ōtsutsuki clan. Ever since then, all sorts of crazy things kept piling up.
He used to be just a low-tier shinobi, barely scraping by. But ever since his encounter with White Zetsu, it was Sarutobi this, Senju and Uchiha that—he was clearly dealing with people on a whole different level now.
A background extra, not even worth naming in the script, was now constantly crossing paths with "main characters" and "plotlines." And the more he got involved, the more likely it was he'd get pulled in too deep.
Two hours passed quickly. After treating the Uchiha's external wounds, someone helped fashion a makeshift stretcher, and they prepared to depart with the injured shinobi in tow.
If this was just about doing a good deed, Genma could've left her behind. After treating her injuries, she'd probably survive on her own.
But given their current situation, any effort they made was done with the hope of getting something in return. They weren't in a position to perform nameless acts of charity and expect nothing in return.
Their departure from the forest had already been delayed several times. Taking into account the season and weather, it was now or never.
Once winter hit, food would be scarce in the mountains, and the risk of hypothermia would rise sharply... So even though a Mangekyō-wielding Uchiha literally dropped from the sky today—an ominous sign if there ever was one—Genma still decided to stick with the original plan.
And it turned out to be the right call. A day after they left camp, the first snowflakes began to fall from the sky.
Unlike when they first entered the forest, everyone was now well-rested and moving quickly.
Though they mostly traveled on foot through the woods instead of racing through the treetops like ninja on a mission, by the evening of the second day, they'd already reached the forest's edge.
For a time, this forest had provided them with shelter and safety. The brief taste of camp life had even given them a false sense of comfort. So as they left its familiar embrace, many felt an unexpected wave of reluctance and unease.
But there was no helping it—they couldn't live in the woods forever.
And besides, the idea that the forest was safe had always been a lie. Sooner or later, war would reach even here.
At the forest's edge, Genma decided they'd camp for the night. Beyond this point, once they returned to the so-called "normal" world, even getting a good night's sleep would be a luxury.
They set up their temporary camp beside a creek. As the group lit fires and started cooking, from a distance they might have looked like a traveling merchant caravan.
Genma took care of organizing the night watch, then returned to the center of camp and sat down.
For the past two days, he'd been personally keeping watch over the Uchiha shinobi—never letting his guard down for a moment.
She'd been unconscious the whole time, feverish and burning up. The only thing the group could do was cool her down physically. Thankfully, she was surprisingly resilient.
Genma figured it was about time for her to wake up.
And sure enough, after the camp had been set and dinner was underway, beneath the dark night sky and flickering firelight, the Uchiha shinobi finally opened her eyes.
Genma, who had been by her side all along, noticed immediately.
But she didn't move. She just lay quietly on the stretcher, staring up at the black sky and the drifting snowflakes for a long while before finally speaking:
"What time is it now?"
Genma misunderstood the question, and answered somewhat offhandedly, "You've been unconscious for about two days."
"No, I meant... what day is it? If possible, I'd like to know the exact date and year," she clarified.
Genma blinked, momentarily stunned by the question.
See? Uchiha—mentally unstable as always.
He opened his mouth to respond, then froze.
After a moment's silence, he finally said,
"To be honest... I don't actually know the exact date."
They'd been living in the mountains for so long, lost in survival mode, that he had forgotten the calendar entirely.
But then it struck him—that question of hers... seemed to hint at something much more important.
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