As he spoke, Shimizu Uchiha glanced at Hyuga Ginka, a faint, almost mocking smile playing on his lips.
"Beast," Ginka muttered to herself, her heart spitting the word silently.
Who knew what kind of devious schemes were swirling in Shimizu's mind? Once Nobuhiko's eyes were healed, she'd make sure he stayed far away from Shimizu.
A moment later, Shimizu produced a small vial of medicinal liquid and placed it beside Hyuga Nobuhiko. He instructed him to use it every other day, three drops at a time. Once the infection was sufficiently suppressed, Shimizu would proceed with the treatment.
"Take your time chatting," Shimizu said with a considerate tone, closing the door behind him as he stepped out.
"Nobuhiko, want an orange?" Hyuga Ginka asked, bending down to pick up the fruit she'd accidentally knocked to the floor, preparing to peel it.
"Sure," Hyuga Nobuhiko replied, wrapping a bandage around his eyes to shield them from the sunlight.
Ginka nodded at his response and settled onto the stool in front of the hospital bed.
"Hiss—" She winced, realizing she couldn't sit comfortably.
The sound was faint, but Nobuhiko caught it. "What's wrong? Did that little cat come back?" he asked.
"It's nothing. I just bumped into something," Ginka said, standing up from the stool. She decided standing was better for now.
"Be careful," Nobuhiko said gently, his tone full of concern.
"Mm…" Ginka's response was half-hearted. It was all Shimizu's fault, anyway.
Silence fell between them.
Sunlight streamed onto Nobuhiko's face, warming him pleasantly. The soft sound of his fiancée peeling the orange filled the air, and for a moment, Nobuhiko thought to himself that this kind of tranquil life wasn't half bad.
Outside, Shimizu ran a simulation.
**[Please select one reward: Byakugan 1, Tsunade's Gambling Skill, Gentle Fist Main Branch Techniques 1.]
Shimizu waited for the announcement to finish and glanced at the reward options.
"The Hyuga Clan's drop rate has been pretty high lately," he remarked.
Perhaps because he'd been interacting with several Hyuga Clan members recently, items related to the Hyuga were popping up more frequently. Back when he first obtained the simulator, he'd often gotten items tied to the Uchiha Clan.
"I'll take the Byakugan," Shimizu decided.
It was, as always, a choice among three options. He went straight for the Byakugan.
Tsunade's gambling skill was a causal divination tool—useless unless something major was happening, and even then, it meant losing money constantly. Winning big only signaled an impending tragedy, and the cost was sinking a fortune upfront. It wasn't worth it. As for the Gentle Fist techniques, they were equally useless to him; he could easily coax those out of Hyuga Ginka with a bit of pressure.
[Byakugan granted…]
A warm sensation flooded Shimizu's eye sockets, and his eyes instinctively shifted to a pure, milky white. Minor imperfections in his vision were gradually smoothed out, leaving his sight even clearer.
"The purity's improved significantly," Shimizu noted.
His vision now captured everything—front, back, a full 360 degrees without a single blind spot.
"My eye power's grown stronger too. Could the Sharingan and Byakugan be complementary?" Shimizu could distinctly feel the reservoir of eye power in his sockets expanding, its upper limit pushed higher.
The Sharingan's eye power capacity varied by stage. A single tomoe was like a small cup, two tomoe a medium one, and three tomoe a large one. With frequent use, as proficiency increased, so did the capacity for eye power. But once that capacity hit its limit, growth stalled, leaving the user stuck.
The Mangekyo Sharingan, however, upgraded the cup to a barrel—but a flimsy, paper-thin one. The more it was used, the faster the eye power limit grew, until the barrel couldn't withstand the strain and burst, leading to blindness. The solution was to swap in a sibling's Mangekyo Sharingan, triggering a unique reaction that turned the paper barrel into an iron one—vastly increasing the limit and ensuring it would never break.
Shimizu's three-tomoe Sharingan had long since reached its capacity limit. Now, that ceiling had been shattered, pushing him toward the Mangekyo-level threshold.
"The better the aptitude, the greater the eye power capacity. My three-tomoe Sharingan's eye power surpasses that of any other Uchiha with three tomoe today. Perhaps only Indra's three-tomoe Sharingan could compare?" Shimizu mused, feeling as though he were walking a path of ancestral regression.
Even Indra, the ancestor of the Uchiha Clan, or his father, the Sage of the Six Paths, never sargan had never wielded the Byakugan's power. The only ones who could harness the strength of all three great eye techniques were the true Ōtsutsuki Clan.
"No, I'll surpass the Ōtsutsuki," Shimizu said, shaking his head.
Could an Ōtsutsuki match his speed of growth? Impossible. The Ōtsutsuki had to plant the Ten-Tails on planet after planet, sacrificing one of their own each time to transform it into a God Tree and cultivate a Chakra Fruit, which ripened only once every millennium for a single evolutionary leap.
That was far too slow. In a thousand years, Shimizu could simulate every corner of this world and even venture into the cosmos. It wasn't impossible for him to draw a Chakra Fruit as a reward.
Compared to the Ōtsutsuki's sluggish efficiency, Shimizu was practically a higher species.
"For now, this matter's settled. Time to get some equipment," Shimizu said, deactivating his Byakugan and stepping out of his office.
Creating the cloning solution couldn't be done in Konoha's hospital. He'd need to set up a new lab, and the equipment would have to come from the black market. Village equipment was too tightly regulated—borrowing was fine, but buying required endless paperwork and regular inspections to prevent illicit experiments.
Shimizu had no intention of asking Fugaku for help. A private lab, known only to him and his trusted few, was the best option.
…
Under the vast skies of the Land of Fire, Shimizu Uchiha soared through the air, riding a sword forged of flames. The Tenrō Fire Sword blazed brilliantly, streaking across the rolling mountains and sprawling forests like a fiery dragon, trailing a blazing wake.
He'd instructed Nohara Rin to continue her work as planned and to pass any intelligence to White Dove if he didn't return. Taking a random mission as a pretext for leaving Konohagakure, he set off for the Land of Demons.
For a temporary mission team, a few enhanced shadow clones would suffice. His improved shadow clones could last for quite a while.
As a Konoha ninja, he couldn't openly buy such equipment—any misstep could expose him. Konoha had ninjas posing as black market operatives, fishing for those who might endanger the village.
…
A few hours later, Shimizu arrived in the Land of Demons.
"Back again," he murmured, gazing at the intricate, tightly packed buildings and the towering shrine at their peak, a smile spreading across his face.
He wondered if the shrine maiden would be pleased to see him.
At the city gates, some guards recognized him. Many ninjas had visited this place, but only one Uchiha had ever come.
"Are you the ninja who fought alongside Her Holiness against Mōryō?" one guard asked.
"If you mean that battle with Mōryō, then yes, that's me," Shimizu replied.
The guard, thrilled, hurried off to report his arrival. To them, Shimizu, the savior of their nation, was a hero. Seeing him again was an honor.
The guard's efficiency was impressive—within a minute, someone was bowing and leading Shimizu to the daimyo.
"Uchiha Shimizu, it's been a while," the daimyo said, his voice frail. His body was hunched, his wrinkles carved deep like the roots of a withered tree, his sparse hair revealing a glossy scalp.
"Daimyo-sama, it's good to see you again," Shimizu replied with a nod.
The daimyo looked even older than when Shimizu had last seen him. His estimated twenty-year lifespan had likely dwindled to just a few years, the shock of rapid aging and mental stress hastening his decline.
They exchanged a few words, mostly about the state of the ninja world, with the daimyo tossing in a compliment about Shimizu's "Instant Shimizu" moniker. He waved for servants to bring food and wine.
Shimizu took a piece of meat, noting the absence of the dancing girls who'd once livened these feasts. He chuckled to himself—the daimyo, too old to care for such things, must have sent them away.
Soon, a woman entered the room.
Miroku, dressed in pristine white shrine maiden robes and a ceremonial crown, looked at Shimizu with a flicker of surprise. They exchanged brief, polite greetings, as if barely acquainted, and carried on with the meal under the daimyo's watchful eye.
The daimyo, gazing at the woman he cherished and the man who'd saved his life, sighed contentedly, lamenting his own age while they remained in their prime.
"Daimyo-sama, I'd like to stay here for a while," Shimizu said, stating his purpose.
He planned to acquire the equipment and leave, then retrieve Guren and seek out Yakushi Nono.
"Haha! You saved my life and this nation. Stay as long as you like—treat this place as your home," the daimyo said, his aged eyes crinkling with a smile.
"Then I'll be imposing on your hospitality," Shimizu replied.
An hour later, the lively banquet ended, and the daimyo arranged a fine room for Shimizu.
Miroku, returning to the shrine, felt an inexplicable unease. She sat in the great hall, memories of what Shimizu had done to her there flooding back—how she'd been forced to "swallow his takeout."
"Uchiha Shimizu… why has he returned? Is he still after my chakra?" she wondered.
She'd already given him her sealing techniques as payment for healing the daimyo. The only thing that might still interest him was her shrine maiden chakra.
"Is that how you think of me, Your Holiness? That's rather disheartening," Shimizu's voice cut through the dim shrine.
Miroku took a deep breath. Uchiha Shimizu was as elusive as ever.
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