"I really didn't want to treat Mikoto-neesan this way, but if I don't, how can I soothe the hatred burning in my heart? Lord Fugaku does whatever he pleases, so I can only vent through means like this."
Shimizu Uchiha spoke softly, his voice carrying a languid tone.
His fingers trailed from her cheek, slowly moving to the top of her head, inhaling the scent of her hair.
Was it shampoo, body wash, or something else? Shimizu didn't care.
It smelled pleasant, and that was enough.
A faint blush began to spread across Mikoto's face.
Victims, after enduring torment, often crave any shred of warmth or kindness, even if it comes from their abuser.
That sliver of warmth was like a lone flame in the abyss, dispelling just a fraction of the darkness.
Mikoto felt something inexplicable.
Perhaps Shimizu wasn't solely defined by his cruelty.
If Fugaku hadn't acted the way he did, maybe Shimizu wouldn't have... treated her like this.
Noticing the shift in Mikoto's expression, Shimizu's brow furrowed slightly.
Could Mikoto possibly have masochistic tendencies?
He recalled that Kurenai Yuhi seemed to show faint signs of such inclinations.
But Mikoto was an Uchiha!
The Uchiha Clan was a clan starved of love.
It was precisely this lack of love that drove them to pursue it eternally.
When love shattered, it turned into hatred, fueling an extreme desire for vengeance.
But without love, how could such intense hatred be sustained?
This meant the Uchiha's concept of love and hate was vastly different from others'.
"Forget it."
Shimizu didn't dwell on the matter further.
No matter how much Mikoto struggled, she could never escape his control.
Could a moment of realization possibly match his years of disciplined training?
If that were the case, why bother being a ninja? He might as well go back to farming.
"I can pretend nothing happened, as long as Mikoto-neesan makes a promise—a sincere one. Then I'll forgive Lord Fugaku, and everyone can be happy, right?"
Shimizu's whisper was like the devil's temptation, gently stirring the strands of hair by Mikoto's ear.
In a daze, Mikoto seemed to catch a faint fragrance.
It was the same scent she'd noticed when Shimizu had helped her condition her body in the past—a subtle, elusive aroma.
It was Shimizu's scent.
This fragrance wasn't an illusion.
"Please, don't do this, okay?"
Mikoto's voice was almost pleading, her demeanor utterly subdued.
Gone was the defiance she'd shown when threatening Shimizu earlier, replaced by utter helplessness.
"You and Lord Fugaku are still pure, aren't you?"
"You... how could you know that?!"
Mikoto jolted in shock.
How could Shimizu know something so private?
Her thoughts flashed to the letter on the table, and a terrifying realization dawned on her.
"Have you been spying on us?!"
Mikoto stared intently at Shimizu.
Shimizu nearly burst out laughing.
As if he had the time to spy on Mikoto and Fugaku.
He wished he could split his time in two just to keep up.
Even now, his shadow clone was meditating in his room, honing his chakra refinement.
After all, mental training was indispensable.
But when it came to women, Shimizu always handled things personally.
Shadow clones? They were better off as emotionless tools.
"You're overthinking it."
Shimizu shook his head.
"Now, Mikoto-neesan, atone properly. When the time comes, I'll let you go. Lord Fugaku won't know. This will be our little secret."
Mikoto shook her head, refusing. She wasn't some naive child.
Once entangled with Shimizu, there'd be no untangling herself.
"Mikoto-neesan, you wouldn't want anything to happen to Lord Fugaku, would you? I imagine you'd rather not see an extra tombstone in the graveyard."
Each word from Shimizu drained a bit more color from Mikoto's face, until she was deathly pale.
Perhaps a minute passed, or maybe just a moment.
Mikoto, as if all her spirit had been sapped, collapsed powerlessly to the floor.
"Don't deceive me, or... I'll drag you down with me."
"Relax. I'm not ready to meet the Sage of the Six Paths just yet."
Shimizu flashed a smile...
With a casual gesture, the lamplight flickered.
The dim glow cast shadows on the wall.
Two writhing, grotesque shadows twisted in the darkness.
Painful, mournful cries echoed in the sealed chamber, lingering endlessly.
Even the bright moon above was veiled by dark clouds.
Everything fell silent, the world hushed.
Miles away, at the Fugaku household...
Uchiha Fugaku suddenly woke with a lingering sense of dread.
His instincts screamed that something was wrong.
"Hiss..."
A sharp pain stabbed through his eyes, his pupil power contracting.
"Damn it, who is that man?"
Fugaku cursed under his breath. The wounds on his body clung to him like parasites.
Could this be the bloodline ability of that man?!
After a while, the pain in his eyes subsided, but the unease in his heart kept him from returning to sleep.
He got up, went to the living room, and poured himself a glass of water.
"Mikoto's already asleep..."
Fugaku quietly cracked open the bedroom door, peering at the sleeping "Mikoto" inside.
Nodding to himself, he closed the door and headed to his study.
"I need to increase Shimizu's workload. It's all for the clan!"
Fugaku set down his empty glass.
He began calculating how to reasonably pile more work on Shimizu.
Every ounce of the Uchiha's strength needed to be rallied.
The greater the ability, the greater the responsibility.
When that day came, Shimizu would understand his painstaking efforts.
Besides, a ninja could only forge their own path by enduring hardship and perseverance.
Shimizu would thank him for all of this.
Fugaku thought with satisfaction.
Just like himself—without his father's harsh demands, how could he have earned the title "Wicked Eye Fugaku"?
Under the night sky, the light in the Fugaku household's study went out.
The entire Uchiha compound sank into slumber.
Only a few remained awake through the night.
Mikoto's eyes were unfocused, staring blankly at the ceiling.
It was as if she'd gained the Byakugan, seeing through the ceiling to the bright moon hanging in the sky, surrounded by countless stars.
Slowly, she felt herself detach from her mortal body, flying from the chamber to the earth.
She soared higher, reaching the endless sea of clouds.
Bathed in moonlight, Mikoto was enveloped in its glow, the moonlight like a galaxy, illuminating the surging clouds with radiant brilliance.
But soon, it was as if a pair of pitch-black hands yanked her from the clouds, dragging her back to the ground, back to the chamber.
The devil's whisper sounded in her ear: "Move yourself."
In the chamber, Mikoto could only let out a powerless cry. She was still imprisoned in this tiny space.
Her unfocused eyes sharpened slightly. She reached out, as if trying to soar back to the clouds and dance with them once more.
Splash~
The sound of surging waves crashed around her.
It was a stark reminder—this was no sea of clouds. This was... hell.
Creak...
The outer door of the chamber opened, sunlight spilling in from the passage.
The candles in the chamber had long burned out. Without this new light, it would have been pitch black.
Mikoto hadn't fully woken from last night's nightmare. Her brows were tightly knit, her expression filled with deep pain and helplessness.
Her fingers curled weakly, nails digging into her palms. Her breathing was shallow and rapid, each breath a monumental struggle.
It was as if all her strength had been drained last night, leaving her without even the energy to resist.
As Shimizu approached, Mikoto's thoughts grew chaotic, flashes of last night's events piercing her mind like blades, making her gaze even more hollow.
She regretted it.
She shouldn't have agreed to Shimizu's demands.
Now that she'd given everything to him, her heart felt empty, unsure of how to face Fugaku.
Her once bright and peaceful life had been shattered, leaving her to struggle alone in endless darkness.
Tears silently slid down her cheeks once more.
She didn't know how many times she'd cried, only that the pain in her heart had nowhere to go, like a dam on the verge of collapse.
Her body trembled slightly. She didn't even have the strength to wipe her tears, letting them soak the cold floor.
"If this is how it's going to be, I'd rather die."
Mikoto murmured, no longer wishing to cling to life.
Shimizu raised an eyebrow.
Mikoto's spirit wasn't resilient enough.
The day after he'd "consumed" Nohara Rin, she'd left without a word.
She'd diligently carried out every task assigned to her.
But Rin still needed more breaking in—just one final push to shift her gaze from Kakashi.
It would require further prodding to sever her attachment to him.
"Drink."
Shimizu crouched down, pouring water from a cup into Mikoto's mouth.
Her cracked, pale lips regained a hint of color.
Cough, cough...
Mikoto coughed twice. Severely dehydrated, the water revived her slightly.
She mustered enough strength to prop herself against the wall.
Looking at her disheveled state, sorrow welled up within her.
Her future was a haze, devoid of any hope.
All her persistence and dignity had vanished in that moment, leaving only a broken soul drifting in endless darkness.
"Got the strength to stand? Go back on your own."
Shimizu issued his dismissal.
By his calculations, these past few days were her fertile window.
After his "efforts," it was almost certain she'd conceive Itachi.
With this matter settled, it was time to turn his attention to Kirigakure.
Obito would spiral into darkness during that event, and Kakashi would grow colder, more ruthless.
Then came Kakashi's ANBU arc.
Tasked with guarding Kushina, his inner turmoil would ease through the companionship and witnessing the birth of a new life.
But after that came the Nine-Tails' rampage. Thanks to Shimizu's loose lips, Obito would learn Kushina's delivery date.
He'd unleash the Nine-Tails to "celebrate," and Minato Namikaze would sacrifice himself to seal it, ushering in the first episode of the story—Naruto's birth.
In these events, Shimizu stood to gain plenty.
The Three-Tails' chakra, the Uzumaki Clan's sealing techniques.
He needed to seize these opportunities swiftly.
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