Chapter 173
Has the Uchiha ever wronged Konoha?
Chapter 173 Has the Uchiha ever wronged Konoha?
The twilight, as dark as ink, pressed heavily on the small courtyard where Uchiha Shisui was temporarily residing.
He sat cross-legged on the cold veranda, his back ramrod straight, yet he resembled a sculpture whose soul had been emptied.
The lights of the distant Star City blurred into a hazy halo, unable to illuminate his newly formed, slowly rotating three-tomoe Sharingan.
Whirlpool Vanilla's words, like a cold poison ivy, had already taken deep root and were now frantically drawing on his past beliefs, twisting his mind and soul to the point of breaking.
Konoha...the final resting place for the Uchiha clan?
He closed his eyes, and a chaotic scene surged through the darkness.
Beneath the towering waterfall of the Valley of the End, lies the earth-shattering duel between Hashirama Senju and Madara Uchiha.
Even the two most powerful souls could only end with one of them falling.
Is this the fate of co-creators?
Were the seeds of conflict sown from the very beginning?
The scene suddenly shifts.
In the imposing Hokage's office, the snow-white-haired Second Hokage, Tobirama Senju, was sternly instructing a young Uchiha ninja.
The young man had a calm face and focused eyes!
It was Shisui's grandfather, Uchiha Kagami.
The second generation leader tapped his fingertip on the scroll, explaining the key points of a sealing technique. Although his expression was cold, he did not show the same deep-seated wariness he displayed when facing other members of his clan.
The master-disciple relationship... This was once the warmest glimmer of light in Shisui's heart, symbolizing that the barriers were not insurmountable.
Immediately following was the warm, sunny smile of the Fourth Generation Minato Namikaze.
Standing beside him was the gentle Kushina Uzumaki, while opposite him were the Uchiha clan chief Fugaku and his wife Mikoto.
Two couples raised their glasses in a small booth at the izakaya. Fugaku's usually serious face showed a rare relaxation, while Minato was patting him on the shoulder with a smile, seemingly telling him something amusing.
The scene shifts again to before the Kannabi Bridge mission, where Minato solemnly hands the Flying Thunder God Kunai to the always-late, yet intensely-eyed Uchiha boy—Uchiha Obito.
The Fourth Hokage... he genuinely accepted the Uchiha clan.
Thoughts receded like the tide, leaving behind only cold, unyielding rocks—the Third Hokage, Hiruzen Sarutobi.
Zhi Shui tried hard to recall, but his memory seemed to be covered by a thick layer of dust.
The three generations of elders always smiled gently, gave speeches in front of the memorial stone, and looked down on the village from the Fire Shadow Rock.
What did he say to the Uchiha?
What substantial actions did he take to get closer to his master, like the second generation taking on apprentices or the fourth generation making friends?
No.
Only after each Konoha meeting did the Fugaku clan chief bring back vague statements of "understanding," "waiting for the right opportunity," and "considering the bigger picture."
Behind the Third Hokage's gentle smile lay a bottomless aloofness and a suffocating sense of distance.
An answer that has been deliberately forgotten, an example that has been shelved!
"cough."
A soft cough broke the deathly silence, like a pebble thrown into a deep pool.
Shisui was startled, and his Sharingan instantly locked onto the source of the sound.
The shadows in the courtyard seemed to come alive, silently coalescing into a figure.
The black robe remained motionless in the night wind, and the nine-faced Suvaha pattern on the cloak shimmered with an eerie luster under the moonlight.
The white three-eyed fox mask concealed the newcomer's face, revealing only a pair of deep, abyss-like eyes.
"It seems that what Vanilla said has made you think a lot." Shura's voice came through the mask, deep and steady, revealing no emotion.
He didn't approach, but simply leaned casually against the pillar, as if blending into the shadows.
Shisui's muscles tensed instantly, and his newly formed Sharingan spun wildly, trying to catch the slightest flaw in his opponent. However, he only felt that the unfathomable chakra was like a vast ocean, with destructive power hidden beneath its calm surface.
He forced himself to suppress his turbulent emotions, his voice hoarse from the tension: "Lord Shura... what brings you here so late at night?"
"I wouldn't call it guidance." Shura's gaze seemed to pierce through the mask, landing on his newly transplanted Sharingan eyes.
Shura walked over to him and sat down casually, his movements exuding an innate composure.
“She saw many things in the rise and fall of the Uzumaki clan, and she asked me…” Shura turned his head, the eye holes of his mask seeming to stare directly into Shisui’s soul.
Shura casually posed a weighty question: "Has the Uchiha clan ever wronged Konoha?" Wronged?
This word was like a needle, piercing through the heavy confusion in Zhi Shui's heart.
Without the slightest hesitation, he instinctively straightened his back, his newly formed Sharingan gleaming with a sharp light: "No! The blood shed and sacrifices made by the Uchiha clan for Konoha are no less than those of any other clan! From the very beginning of the village's founding to the various Shinobi World Wars, the Uchiha's Sharingan has always been one of the sharpest blades protecting Konoha! The police force has also been diligently maintaining order within the village!"
The number of Uchiha clan members who sacrificed their lives in the three Shinobi World Wars is countless, including his grandfather Uchiha Kagami!
The sound of still water was resounding, carrying an undeniable pride and sorrow.
This is a belief etched in his blood, the starting point of all his struggles.
Even Madara Uchiha back then couldn't take the Uchiha clan away!
"Very good." There seemed to be a very faint, almost imperceptible hint of approval in Shura's voice, but it quickly turned into a deeper coldness.
"Then tell me, Shisui. If one day, a purge comes not from an external enemy, but from internal suspicion, fear, and power struggles. When the butcher's knife is held to the neck of every Uchiha clansman, when the blood-red moonlight of the night of the massacre shrouds the Naka River... what will you do?"
The Night of Extermination!
These four words, carrying a strong stench of blood, instantly seized Zhi Shui's breath!
A sharp, phantom pain shot through both eyes, and the image of Danzo grinning and gouging out his own eyes flashed before his eyes once more!
Next came the twisted, angry faces of the radicals at the clan meeting; Itachi's increasingly silent and emaciated figure in the shadows of the Anbu; and the unfathomable alienation beneath the Third Hokage's gentle smile...
Countless fragments exploded and reassembled in his mind, eventually turning into a crimson sea of blood that drowned the faces of all the clansmen he knew!
What would he do?
Shisui's body trembled violently, and his newly formed Sharingan eyes spun wildly, trying to find a piece of driftwood in the torrent of despair.
Should we ask the Third Hokage for help?
The cold, indifferent figures of the shadowy guards in the illusion extinguished his last shred of hope like ice water.
Danzo has already taken away his Mangekyou Sharingan, and the Third Hokage... really has no idea?
Will they really protect the Uchiha?
Vanilla Uzumaki's words echoed like a spell: "Resolving the conflict between the Uchiha and Konoha is actually quite simple, so why didn't the Third Hokage do it?"
Perhaps the answer is that some people in the village's upper echelons don't want to solve the problem at all, and may even be happy to see it happen!
Lead the entire tribe in rebellion?
That would be the spark that ignites the civil war in Konoha, dragging countless innocent people into a sea of blood!
And just like the Kaguya clan's rebellion, it will inevitably be suppressed by all the Konoha ninja clans and civilian ninjas!
To stop Itachi with all one's might?
Faced with overwhelming power and meticulously planned conspiracies, how many of his people could he protect with his own strength?
What can he do?
What should he do?
On one side were his family who gave him birth and raised him, his blood relatives; on the other side was the village he swore allegiance to and protected with his life.
When these two are pushed to the brink of complete opposition, where the problem can only be "solved" by destroying one side, where does his position lie?
Where does his power lie?
What remains of his prized "Instantaneous Movement" and "Kotoamatsukami" after he lost his eyes?
He was overwhelmed by immense pain and confusion.
He opened his mouth, but his throat seemed blocked, and he couldn't make a sound.
He could only clench his fists tightly, his nails digging deep into his palms, his body trembling slightly from the intense inner struggle.
The cold wooden planks of the corridor sent a chill through his thin clothes, but it was nothing compared to the coldness in his heart.
The moonlight fell on his violently heaving shoulders and back, casting a silhouette of despair and loneliness.
Only the mournful sound of the night wind blowing through the wind chimes on the eaves and his heavy, suppressed breathing remained in the courtyard.
A cold sensation fell silently onto Zhi Shui's shoulder, which was taut with pain.
He trembled slightly and raised his head blankly.
More icy coldness, fluttering and swirling, fell from the deep night sky.
Tiny, crystalline ice crystals shimmered under the moonlight, like shattered stars fallen to earth.
Snowing.
The first snow of Konoha in 56 years fell without warning.
The icy snowflakes touched his burning skin and melted instantly, leaving behind a bone-chilling cold, like a sigh of fate announcing the official start of a long and harsh winter.
Shura watched this scene silently, his gaze behind the mask deep and unfathomable.
He didn't press further, offer any comfort, or make any judgments; he simply watched like a calm bystander as the storm raged within Uchiha Shisui's inner world.
The black figure, like ink stains blending into the night, gradually and silently disappeared into the swirling first snow, as if it had never existed.
Only Shisui remained, sitting stiffly on the cold veranda, a thin layer of snow falling on his shoulders, like a stone statue forgotten by the whole world.
In the newly formed Sharingan, the three tomoe slowly rotated behind the swirling snow curtain, reflecting the countless cold stars, as well as the unfathomable confusion and the weight of choices.
The snowflakes piled up silently, gradually covering the clean gravel ground of the courtyard, as if burying all traces of the past.
(End of this chapter)