"Ahhhhh! You damn bastard, I'll tear you to shreds!"
Uchiha Shisui's furious roar shattered the stillness of the room. His body trembled with rage, muscles straining despite the wounds that tore open under the pressure. Crimson blood seeped through the bandages wrapping his side, dripping onto the floor in uneven splatters.
The shout was loud enough to draw attention. Within moments, hurried footsteps echoed from the corridor outside, and the door slid open with a sharp bang. Uchiha Fugaku, followed by several of the clan's high-ranking members, rushed in—only to stop short at the sight before them.
Shisui stood in the middle of the room, his face pale but eyes burning with fury. To see him in such a state was almost unthinkable. For as long as they could remember, Shisui had always been calm, polite, and composed—a rare example of humility within the proud Uchiha clan.
As the grandson of Uchiha Kagami, Shisui had long been regarded as something of an anomaly among his kin. "Anomaly" might have sounded harsh, but it was true: he lacked the arrogance so common in the clan. He treated even the lowest-ranking civilians of Konoha with respect, and he had never been known to lose his temper, let alone roar like a beast consumed by wrath.
That was why the scene before them sent a shiver through the room. For Shisui to lose control like this could only mean one thing—the psychological blow he had suffered was immense.
Though Shisui's temperament set him apart, no one could deny the Uchiha blood that ran through his veins. His talent was extraordinary, the strongest of his generation, and his mastery of the Sharingan was second to none. To see such a prodigy in turmoil filled the elders with unease.
One by one, they tried to soothe him.
"Shisui, are you alright? Don't be too hard on yourself," one elder said hesitantly. "It was just one failure. You're still the pride of our clan—you'll surpass every enemy you face."
Yet behind their comforting words lay curiosity. What kind of opponent could have wounded Shisui not just physically, but mentally? Who had shaken the unshakable genius of the Uchiha?
Fugaku stepped forward, his voice steady but commanding. "Shisui, calm yourself. As an Uchiha and a warrior of Konoha, you must learn to control your emotions."
Whether it was Fugaku's words or Shisui's own discipline taking over, his breathing gradually slowed. The crimson glow of his Sharingan dimmed until his eyes returned to their natural black. He looked around at the circle of elders, drew a long breath, and said quietly, "You're right, Clan Leader. Thank you for reminding me. I've regained my composure."
Fugaku nodded in approval. He had always respected Shisui's mental strength. Truly worthy of his lineage, he thought. Among this generation, few possess such resilience. Perhaps only my son, Itachi, could stand beside him.
He made a mental note: It might be good for Itachi and Shisui to spend more time together. Two geniuses like them could push each other to new heights.
But for now, there was something far more pressing—information.
Fugaku's gaze hardened. "Shisui, as someone who faced this mysterious attacker directly, you must have learned something. Tell us what you know. Every detail could matter."
Shisui nodded slowly, gathering his thoughts. "Clan Leader, Elders… to be honest, I never saw the man's face. He wore a mask throughout the battle."
A murmur rippled through the room.
"But I remember his physique," Shisui continued, his voice firm. "If I ever see him again, I'll recognize him immediately. No transformation jutsu can fool my eyes."
He spoke with quiet confidence, certain in the power of his Sharingan. But if he had known the true nature of Riku's Transformation Technique—one capable of altering even chakra signatures—he might not have been so sure.
Fugaku's expression remained calm. "It's fine if you didn't see his face. What's important is what you learned from the fight. Tell us about his fighting style. Every bit of intelligence helps us find his weakness."
"Understood," Shisui replied. He paused, recalling the battle in vivid fragments—the speed, the crushing strength, the strange, unpredictable movements. "That man… Riku, I believe, is a Taijutsu specialist. His combat style was bizarre. If possible, remember this: never make physical contact with him."
The grim tone of his voice sent a chill through the room.
"Specializing in Taijutsu? Strange?" an elder interrupted skeptically. "What do you mean by strange? There's no such thing as 'strange' Taijutsu. Are you certain you're not mistaken?"
Shisui didn't react with anger. He had expected disbelief. "I'm sure. His Taijutsu was unlike anything I've ever seen. It's as if every muscle, every bone in his body could become a weapon. His movements defied logic. Compared to him, our Uchiha-style Taijutsu looked more like… a dance."
"A dance?" The elder's face darkened. "Are you mocking the techniques of your own clan? Our Taijutsu is famous throughout the ninja world!"
Shisui's eyes met the man's. Calm, but unyielding. "I'm not joking. I'm telling you what I saw."
The elder fell silent. Something in Shisui's steady gaze made his skin crawl.
Sensing the rising tension, Fugaku raised a hand. "Enough. There's no need for argument. Shisui, please continue."
Shisui inclined his head. "As for his use of elemental ninjutsu—he barely used any. Throughout the fight, he relied almost entirely on Taijutsu. But…"
He hesitated, frowning. "There was one attack—something wide-ranged and devastating. I'm not sure if it was ninjutsu at all. I saw no hand seals. It could have been a kekkei genkai."
The memory made his body ache, phantom pain rippling through his limbs. That final moment—when Riku's power had crushed through his defenses—was seared into his mind. Yet even through the discomfort, Shisui analyzed every detail. That was the mark of a true shinobi.
"The attack covered roughly five to ten meters around him," Shisui continued. "I think that's the limit of its effective range. At the end of the fight, he provoked me—tried to make me come closer. I believe he wanted me within that range."
He exhaled deeply. "If my guess is right, maintaining distance is the key to survival. But I can't be completely sure. What I do know is that this man is dangerous—extremely dangerous. Any ninja below jōnin level would be killed instantly."
A heavy silence fell over the room. The weight of Shisui's words was undeniable.
Fugaku's brow furrowed, and several elders exchanged uneasy glances. A single opponent capable of overwhelming Shisui was already alarming—but to hear that even seasoned chūnin and genin would stand no chance? That was something else entirely.
In any clan, jōnin were the elite—strategic assets, the foundation of strength. Even among the Uchiha, Konoha's largest and most powerful family, there were only a few dozen. If Riku truly possessed power that rendered everyone below that level helpless, then their previous strategies meant nothing.
"Are you certain?" Fugaku asked quietly.
Shisui nodded. "I wouldn't say it otherwise."
The clan leader's expression hardened. He understood the implications. If this man was truly at the Kage level—or close to it—then the Uchiha couldn't handle him alone. It would take several jōnin working together to bring him down, maybe even more.
And if such an individual had targeted Konoha once, he could do it again.
"Did he say anything?" Fugaku asked after a moment. "Any clues to his motives?"
Shisui closed his eyes briefly, searching his memory. "No… He was calm. Too calm. His words were taunting, but measured. It felt like he was testing me—testing how much I could take."
He looked up, meeting Fugaku's gaze. "He's not a man who fights blindly. Everything he did was deliberate."
Fugaku nodded slowly, absorbing every word. Around them, the other Uchiha were silent, the tension in the air thick enough to taste.
For a long moment, no one spoke. Then Fugaku said, "Understood. We'll report this to the Hokage's office. If this Riku appears again, we'll be ready. You've done well, Shisui."
Shisui inclined his head respectfully, but his expression remained distant. "Thank you, Clan Leader. I only wish I could have brought back more than just words."
"You survived," Fugaku said simply. "That alone means much."
As the clan members began to file out, whispers filled the hall—speculation, fear, pride, disbelief. But Shisui stood still, his thoughts far away. He replayed the battle again and again in his mind: Riku's movements, his power, that terrifying aura that made the air itself tremble.
For the first time in a long while, Shisui felt truly outmatched. It wasn't humiliation that burned inside him now—it was resolve.
Next time, he thought, clenching his fists. Next time, I'll be ready.
Outside the room, Fugaku walked in silence, his hands clasped behind his back. He, too, was deep in thought. A masked man, a mysterious Taijutsu style, a wide-range kekkei genkai attack—none of it fit neatly into any intelligence reports he'd seen.
Who was this Riku?
And what did he want with Konoha?
For now, those questions had no answers. But Fugaku knew one thing: the peace they had taken for granted was beginning to tremble. The Uchiha clan, and perhaps all of Konoha, would soon face a storm unlike any before.
And in the center of that storm stood a shadow they barely understood—a man whose power could shatter even the strongest of their prodigies.
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