"Fire Style: Ultra Great Fireball Jutsu."
The same principle applies to other ninjutsu.
With true Kage-level strength, even if Shimizu Uchiha's combat experience is lacking, he could still hold his own.
"You… are you really an Uchiha?" Mikoto blurted out, unable to help herself.
Uchiha chakra reserves are greater than those of civilian ninja, but not this much. The sheer volume of chakra Shimizu possessed made her half-believe he could be a secret child of the Senju or Uzumaki clans.
She quickly shut her mouth, realizing she'd asked a foolish question.
Shimizu's three-tomoe Sharingan spun relentlessly, radiating a chilling intensity toward her.
"Now, Mikoto-nee, do you still doubt I can take on Fugaku?" Shimizu said coldly.
He retracted his chakra, and his [Lightning Style: Regenerative Body Refinement] reverted to its normal state, as if nothing had happened.
But his disheveled black hair silently told Mikoto that what had just transpired was no illusion.
"Don't make a move against Fugaku," Mikoto pleaded, her heart gripped by unease.
Fugaku had been hiding his strength every day, and she knew nothing of his Mangekyo Sharingan. Now, she genuinely believed Shimizu might be capable of defeating him.
If that happened, it would play right into Hiruzen Sarutobi's hands. Mikoto suspected it wouldn't take long for Hiruzen to prop Shimizu up as the new clan leader—a move that would greatly benefit Konohagakure's control over the Uchiha.
Shimizu had a decent reputation within the clan, so he'd face little resistance. With Hiruzen's full backing, the position of clan leader would be his for the taking.
"Fugaku is the clan head, supported by many. If you go against him, you're making an enemy of the entire Uchiha clan!" Mikoto said, her worry spiraling into a desperate threat.
Shimizu's gaze grew colder. He was always the one issuing threats—never the other way around.
Without hesitation, he slapped Mikoto across the face.
Clang!
The force sent her crashing against the iron bars, a pained yelp escaping her lips as she crumpled to the ground.
A red handprint bloomed across her cheek.
This was Shimizu holding back. If he hadn't, her teeth would've been knocked out.
Her eyes reddened, her voluptuous figure trembling slightly. She clutched her stinging left cheek with a delicate hand, overwhelmed by an indescribable sense of grievance.
No one had ever struck her like this.
Even when she repeatedly rejected Fugaku, he had never truly laid a hand on her. At most, he'd grabbed her sleeve, only to stop immediately when he saw her on the verge of tears.
She had never felt such rage.
After her former comrades died one by one on missions, the intense pain had awakened her three-tomoe Sharingan, elevating her to Jonin. Disillusioned, she retired from the ninja world to become a housewife.
Her emotions hadn't stirred this strongly in years.
This was the first time she'd felt such fury.
Mikoto's three-tomoe Sharingan spun wildly in her eyes, faster and faster. Shimizu watched with a flicker of surprise. She was an Uchiha, after all. Could a great emotional shock awaken her Mangekyo?
What abilities might she unlock? If she gained something like Obito's space-time jutsu—unknown to him and without exploitable weaknesses—she could toy with him effortlessly. That would be a cruel joke.
Fortunately, her Sharingan spun faster and faster, reaching a critical point… then stopped.
"Mikoto is still one of the weaker ones," Shimizu thought, understanding now. Her outburst had been a bluff; she lacked the potential.
The simulator hadn't recorded him kidnapping Mikoto, so this moment of panic was a false alarm—though it had been startling.
The Sharingan's awakening required intense emotional stimulation, not necessarily hatred. For example, when Kakashi was injured, Obito's desire to protect him triggered his Sharingan. In Boruto, Sasuke's daughter Sarada awakened hers out of disappointment and fear when Sasuke didn't recognize her, her emotions surging to the point of activation.
This showed that the Sharingan's evolution demanded an overwhelming emotional shock capable of upending one's psyche.
In Mikoto's case, all she felt toward Shimizu was hatred.
"Look into my eyes," Shimizu commanded.
Before she could react, he grabbed her head and unleashed his potent ocular power.
Genjutsu: Sharingan!
A vivid scene materialized in Mikoto's mind.
Fugaku's three-tomoe Sharingan was brutally torn from his sockets by Shimizu, his empty eyes streaming blood as he wailed in agony. Then, with a wave of Shimizu's left hand, massive flames engulfed Fugaku's body.
Fugaku writhed on the ground like a maggot, screaming in torment.
No matter how he thrashed, the flames clung to him relentlessly.
"Fugaku!" Mikoto shrieked, rushing to his side.
She frantically tried to pat out the flames, but they passed through her hands as if they were an illusion.
Fugaku continued to burn, his ninja vest incinerated, his skin charred to reveal raw, crimson tendons.
Bit by bit, his bones became visible, then blackened.
Yellow, white, and bloody fluids oozed from his body.
Mikoto watched in horror as Fugaku perished, the genjutsu so vivid that every strand of hair curling and burning in the flames felt indistinguishable from reality.
Suddenly, Fugaku's screams stopped. His expressionless face turned to Mikoto.
"Why didn't you save me?"
"Why didn't you save me?"
"Why didn't you save me…?"
His voice struck her heart like a hammer, each word heavier than the last.
"Fugaku…" Mikoto sobbed, covering her face as her body shook uncontrollably.
Snap.
Shimizu snapped his fingers, ending the genjutsu.
Mikoto had been away from the ninja world for too long. A mere bloody scene had triggered such a visceral reaction.
The illusion faded from her mind, replaced by the cold iron bars of reality.
But the lingering images still made her heart race.
"Please, don't do this. I'll do anything," she begged, tears streaming down her pale face, leaving streaks on her cheeks.
Even in her distress, she evoked a sense of pity.
"That depends on your sincerity, Mikoto-nee," Shimizu said calmly.
For Itachi's birth, he'd have to bear this burden himself.
With that, he summoned his single-horned beast.
Mikoto's chakra was sealed, her Sharingan's pattern barely visible in her eyes—the extent of her current ability.
If she made any unnecessary moves, Shimizu would stop her instantly.
Mikoto stared blankly at the monstrous creature, its terrifying form searing into her mind.
Her heart filled with endless sorrow, a plaintive wail escaping her lips.
With a sigh, she prepared to stand.
"Crawl," Shimizu ordered coolly, turning to sit on the bed by the wall.
Mikoto froze, biting her full lips so hard they nearly bled.
Shimizu was determined to crush her dignity, tearing it apart without mercy.
Yet Fugaku's accusatory words echoed in her mind: "Why didn't you save me?"
The phrase reverberated like a curse, relentless in her thoughts.
Finally, her delicate hands pressed against the floor, her knees touching the ground as she crawled forward, inch by inch.
"It's fine. I have a stress reaction to that. When Fugaku touched my sleeve, I nearly fainted from the shock. It'd probably be the same with Shimizu. That day at the dessert shop must've been an accident," Mikoto thought, resigned to her fate.
When she swallowed the takeout, her body would surely break out in goosebumps, her face would pale, and her lips would turn purple.
She'd endure the sensation, letting her body's stress response intensify.
That way, she could still preserve her chastity.
Once she died here, Shimizu wouldn't be able to hide for long.
He'd eventually become a rogue ninja, a wanderer.
A glint of hatred and release flashed in Mikoto's eyes.
This was fitting. Shimizu Uchiha would face his rightful punishment.
Tap… tap… tap…
The cold wooden floor echoed with the sound of her palms and knees.
The two-meter distance felt like a century-long journey.
…
Fugaku's lack of righteousness justified Shimizu's ruthlessness.
In the ninja world, debts must be repaid.
Unless your fist is strong enough to disregard everything.
Unfortunately, Fugaku's fist wasn't strong enough. His indecision would, in the future, doom the entire clan.
How many innocent clansmen would suffer?
Shimizu had never wronged the innocent. After his parents' death, the clan had taken him in. Without their support, surviving as a child—even with an adult's soul—would've been nearly impossible.
Time passed, and Mikoto's fear grew.
What was happening?
Where was her stress reaction?
It was supposed to save her.
This unexpected turn threw her plans into chaos, her mind a muddled mess, unable to comprehend the situation.
"That was tough, wasn't it?" Shimizu said suddenly as the meal concluded.
Mikoto closed her eyes tightly, bracing for punishment as his hand reached toward her.
But no punishment came. Instead, a warm sensation spread across her cheek.
Her thick lashes trembled as she opened her eyes.
Before her was Shimizu's handsome face, a faint, almost imperceptible smile on his lips.
He rubbed her cheek with satisfaction, its smooth texture pleasing to the touch.
The mother of Sasuke and Itachi—this feeling wasn't bad at all.
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