Chapter 7: Seiichirō, the Blood Pool, and Glory
"Get out, get out! This is a respectable establishment—no minors allowed inside!"
Amid the rough shouting, Uchiha Ci was tossed out the door by two burly men.
Ci picked himself up from the ground, brushing dust off his clothes, a look of irritation on his face.
"Damn it! You call yourselves a 'respectable place' but won't even let minors in?"
"Heh—tui!"
Hearing the commotion, several villagers inside peeked over with curious, mocking looks.
"You thought you could sneak in with a Transformation Jutsu and we wouldn't notice?" one of the guards scoffed with open disdain. "Get lost. If you don't scram right now, I'll call one of your clan elders to drag you back myself!"
At that, Ci's shoulders stiffened. He glared fiercely at the two "watchdogs."
If public humiliation weren't excluded from his insurance payout...
"You still trying to peek inside? Want me to yell for someone?" the guard wrinkled his nose, ready to shout.
Ci immediately suppressed his more "colorful" thoughts, covered his face, and scurried out of the alley in shame.
By the time he made it back to the main street, the crowd had thinned considerably.
The round moon hung high, quietly watching over the world.
A cold early-spring wind brushed his face, and Ci shivered, his thoughts sobering up.
Just then, another member of the Uchiha clan—and Ci's squadmate—Uchiha Seiichirō, stumbled out from another alley, a bottle of sake dangling from his hand.
When he spotted Ci, Seiichirō gave him a once-over. Seeing the dirt stains on his clothes, a mischievous smirk tugged at his lips.
"Well, if it isn't the pride of the Uchiha clan. What happened, got thrown out?"
Ci's face stiffened instantly. "No, I just—uh—got stepped on by an elephant."
"Heh, who doesn't make dumb mistakes when they're young?" Seiichirō's cheeks were flushed from drink, his breath reeking of alcohol as he chuckled. "I get it, I really do."
"But still… heading off to that kind of mission…"
His tone suddenly dropped, his gaze shifting as though he'd remembered something unpleasant. He frowned.
"You're Ci, right? Listen carefully—"
Seiichirō paused, eyes narrowing slightly.
"This mission… don't expect me to help you."
[Uchiha Seiichirō has developed resentment toward you.]
Ci glanced at the translucent text floating briefly before his eyes, then raised an eyebrow and answered calmly, "Don't worry, Seiichirō-senpai. I won't drag you down."
"Heh. You still don't get it, do you? You have no idea what kind of mess you've gotten yourself into!" Seiichirō's tone turned cold, his drunken eyes suddenly sharp.
"I don't know why the elder council decided to let you join this mission," he growled, "but it was supposed to be handled by three jōnin-level clan members. Because of your little ninja 'game,' the elders changed their minds—and now I, a chūnin, have to tag along into hell itself!"
Seiichirō's gaze hardened further.
"You have no idea what kind of monsters we're up against. Without the Sharingan, you're nothing but prey to them!"
Ci raised an eyebrow. Of course he knew. He'd read the original story.
Their destination—the Blood Pool Clan of the Land of Hot Water, deep within the Valley of Hell.
In the reflection of their Blood Dragon Eyes burned an undying hatred for the Uchiha clan, a grudge stretching all the way back to the Warring States era.
Seiichirō wasn't wrong.
Without a Sharingan, Ci would be hopelessly outmatched against a clan whose entire bloodline limit was a visual jutsu.
The Blood Dragon Eye—a kekkei genkai similar to the Sharingan—was awakened through intense emotional trauma.
But unlike the Sharingan, once activated, it immediately granted terrifying abilities: hypnosis, illusion amplification, blood-style ninjutsu, and explosive human puppetry. It was said to rival a two-tomoe Sharingan in raw power.
And as their ocular power grew, so too would their arsenal of horrifying techniques.
For a newly awakened Uchiha without a Sharingan, facing the Blood Pool clan was as good as suicide.
To make matters worse, those who lived in the boiling pits of the Valley of Hell had honed their bodies to survive the harsh terrain—masters of taijutsu and deadly-accurate throwing techniques.
Even ninjutsu was largely useless there; the ever-present blood-red steam disrupted chakra flow and empowered the enemy's blood-style techniques.
Ninjutsu, taijutsu, genjutsu—Uchiha Ci would be outclassed on every front.
In other words: a perfect nightmare.
...Or as Ci saw it, a perfect insurance claim scenario.
Ahem. What he meant was—a truly formidable enemy.
He would fight with all his might.
"Forget it," Seiichirō muttered bitterly, taking another heavy swig. "Talking to a brat like you is pointless… You wouldn't understand... I just awakened my second tomoe… So why me?"
He clutched his head, trembling, sinking into a crouch. His face was twisted with fear.
Ci watched in silence, lips pressed tight, then sighed softly. He walked up and placed a hand on Seiichirō's shoulder.
The butterfly effect had hit again—his existence had altered fate, dragging another innocent into danger.
Though they weren't close, Ci still felt a pang of guilt.
He shook his head, then spoke seriously:
"Seiichirō-senpai, don't worry. Like I said— If someone has to die on this mission, it'll be me."
Ci's tone was calm but firm.
"You just have to make it out alive. I've already made peace with death."
"You… what did you just say?" Seiichirō lifted his head, staring in disbelief.
After a moment, he sighed. To him, Ci was just a naïve kid talking nonsense.
Only when one truly stared death in the face could they understand fear.
Still, they were clanmates. He'd already been harsh enough—no need to berate the boy further.
After all, Uchiha Ci was still just a child.
"Forget it… forget it. I guess this is my fate."
As if resigning himself to destiny, Seiichirō staggered past Ci, swaying down the moonlit road. Under the pale glow, his figure looked pitiful—like a lost dog searching for home.
Suddenly, he turned slightly, his voice low:
"Kid… can you tell me why? Why go this far?"
Ci froze for a moment, scratching the back of his head awkwardly.
He obviously couldn't say, "Because I'm committing insurance fraud."
After a long pause, he stood there beneath the cold moonlight. The massive Hokage Rock cast its shadow across him as he clenched a fist over his heart.
"The reason, huh…"
His expression darkened, but his voice was sharp as a blade, cutting through weakness.
"I've often wondered… what someone as ordinary as me could possibly do."
"What meaning the village—or the Uchiha name—truly holds."
"But no matter how much I think about it, there's only one thing I'm sure of."
"Without power, you can do nothing."
"So I'll give myself to the flames of war—offer up my soul to the blaze—and seek within battle the path these eyes were meant to follow."
"And then, with these eyes, I'll illuminate the world—"
"—and restore the glory of the Uchiha!"
In the frigid night wind, Ci stood tall and unyielding, a statue carved of willpower.
"…Is that so?"
Seiichirō gazed at him for a long moment, then nodded slightly, his expression softening.
He thought back to the words of Shisui—the noble pacifist who'd spoken to him not long ago.
"I understand now."
After murmuring those words, Seiichirō turned and left.
Leaving behind Ci, who scratched his head in utter confusion, muttering:
"What the hell did you 'understand,' anyway?"