At noon, Uchiha Kai arrived at the underground laboratory hidden within the forest behind the Uchiha compound, a thick folder of documents in hand.
It had to be said—Uchiha Kawa and Uchiha Ryukage were incredibly reliable.
Even after scrutinizing the forged documents with his Sharingan, Kai could not detect a single flaw.
More impressively, the contents were so convincing that even he almost believed them.
That was because they were built on 90% truth.
Whether it was the claim that the Hyuga descended from an ancient clan called the Osakabe over a century ago…
…or that they originated from the moon and entered the shinobi world via a dimensional gateway…
None of that was Uchiha Kai's invention.
The only fabrication was the age and origin of the document.
Kai had long believed that to deceive others, you must first deceive yourself.
How much of it Hinata Aya would believe, though, remained uncertain.
Still, beyond the document's authenticity, he was even more impressed with Uchiha Ryukage's recent performance.
Perhaps Ryukage had been rattled by Kai's warnings. His mental energy had surged, bordering on obsession.
When Kai trapped him in a genjutsu to test his resistance, Ryukage didn't collapse or beg for help.
Instead, he endured—sweating, dazed, yet slowly breaking free of the illusion through sheer force of will.
Remarkably, when he emerged, one of his eyes bore a two-tomoe Sharingan, while the other held a single tomoe. A rare state indeed.
"Sasuke awakened his Sharingan in a similar way..." Kai thought to himself as he walked deeper into the lab. "He wasn't even aware of it until Itachi's tears caught his gaze that night..."
Yes—Sasuke had awakened his Sharingan at the age of seven, the night of the Uchiha clan's massacre.
But such a thing would never happen again. Kai would never allow it.
Ryukage had potential. Letting it go to waste would be a crime.
He handed Ryukage a set of notes—fragments of research once conducted by the Second Hokage on the Sharingan, which Imai Kenta had secretly recovered—and assigned him to study alongside Kawaya.
Then, Kai dismissed him for rest. Ryukage was clearly spent, and rest was as vital as training.
Inside the laboratory, Uchiha Kai arrived at the room where Uchiha Osamu was kept.
To his surprise, the only one present was Iori, the young girl acting as Hinata Aya's assistant.
She was timidly extracting cells from Osamu's eye, her small hands deft but trembling. Each time she completed a step, she shut her eyes tight, as though afraid to see the ghastly condition of the man lying before her.
Seeing Kai, she flinched.
"Ah." Kai looked around, frowning. "How many times have I told you to just call me Kai? Also, where's Hinata Aya? She hasn't arrived yet?"
"She's in the next room..." Iori murmured, head lowered.
Kai paused, then asked softly, "Are you getting used to this place?"
"...Not really," she whispered, eyes evasive.
Kai saw through the lie instantly.
If she were just average, he might've wiped her memories and returned her to a normal life as someone's cheerful little sister or friend.
But her talent was astonishing—Hinata Aya had remarked on it more than once.
Even so, Kai could never do what Danzo did—ripping humanity out of children, reshaping them into tools who accepted dehumanization as identity.
The struggle between practicality and compassion was always bitter.
But Kai believed he could find a compromise.
Once his experiments succeeded and her skills were no longer required, he'd let her go—memories intact.
"I understand," Kai said at last, placing a hand gently on her shoulder. "Do your best. You'll get the next two days off. Visit your friends. Be a child for a while."
"Really?" Her eyes lit up—but she hesitated. "But… I still have time left today..."
"This is for you," Kai interrupted. "Don't overthink it. Just remember the rules."
"What you can say… and what you can't…" she murmured, gaze drifting toward Uchiha Shu—still floating in the life support pod, a breathing corpse with no soul in sight.
Kai said nothing more.
He had reached his limit of empathy for the day.
With a single hand seal, he activated the pod's chakra mechanisms.
Shu's head twitched. His dead eyes opened—and in them was the mark of the Eternal Mangekyō Sharingan.
A terrifying pressure burst out. The room felt suddenly colder.
Though the transplant wasn't yet complete, those eyes already radiated dormant godlike power, like a storm waiting to strike.
But Kai's lips curled into a smirk.
"Strong on the outside, weak within… We'll see how much of your 'divine' power remains when I'm done harvesting you..."
Turning away, Kai left the room. If Hinata Aya had left Iori there alone, she must have her reasons.
Even if it was a bit cruel to the girl, Kai accepted that. So long as it benefited him.
Aya was absorbed in a medical report when Kai entered the next room.
"You're early," she said, barely looking up. "Good. I have something to show you."
Kai approached and glanced at the document she handed him. "This is... the fusion status of those eyes?"
"Yes," she nodded. "If nothing unexpected happens, the fusion will stabilize within two months—even under repeated cell extraction."
She leaned back slightly. "And your sister? She may not be a ninja, but she learns fast. I've already taught her the basics."
"Good. Keep her monitored though." Kai flipped to the next report. "Is this about Kenta?"
Aya nodded. "A comparative fusion analysis. You and him."
Of course. Imai Kenta had agreed to make his White Zetsu fusion data public as part of a mutual research deal.
While he wasn't happy about it, he had no choice.
"His in-vitro success rate is higher than yours," Aya explained. "As a Senju descendant, his compatibility is exceptional. But he lacks a suppressive factor."
"You mean he fuses too well, and risks becoming... one of those corpses?" Kai raised an eyebrow.
"Exactly. Without regulation, Hashirama's cells start devouring the host."
The irony wasn't lost on Kai. He had wanted data—but all he'd done was help Kenta avoid disaster.
Well, at least it wasn't a complete loss.
He set the documents down.
Aya asked, "And what are those folders?"
Kai smiled slightly. "These? The Hyuga clan records I promised you."
Aya took them, eyes scanning hungrily.
Even though there wasn't much, she read them repeatedly, as if hypnotized.
She'd once dismissed Kai's theory that the Hyuga came from the moon.
But after returning to the clan archives, she'd found nothing concrete about their origin.
Not even the name of their ancestral homeland.
How could a clan with a bloodline limit like the Byakugan have no origin story?
"Is all of this… true?" she asked quietly.
"Do I lie to you?" Kai replied flatly. "If I gave you false information, wouldn't the cracks show eventually?"
"...It's shocking," she whispered. "I never expected this."
"Who would?" Kai replied. "Like the fact that Uchiha and Senju DNA complement each other. Who saw that coming?"
Aya remained silent.
Was it possible the Uchiha and Senju were once the same bloodline?
A question for another time.
But her thoughts returned to the moon.
"Do you think the moon is a dead place?" she asked.
"If it was, your ancestors wouldn't have made it here alive," Kai said. "There's a passage. There has to be. And your clan's records show signs of… yearning for the moon, not hatred."
"Yearning?" Aya frowned.
"Maybe those who descended were exiles," Kai offered. "Losers of a civil war. They miss their home but can't return. Doesn't that fit your clan's behavior?"
Aya processed the idea, not responding.
Kai went quiet too. Sometimes, saying too much was dangerous—even with allies.
He watched her as she absentmindedly let the edge of a flaming document lick her fingers.
He stepped forward and swatted it from her hand.
"Be more careful. Fire doesn't hurt at first—but it always does later."
Aya looked at him strangely, then smiled faintly.
"Didn't expect Kai-kun to be so gentle."
"You're not the first to say that," he replied. "Won't be the last."
"Maybe it's real. Or maybe it's just a mask," she said softly.
"But whether it is or not, your actions speak for themselves."
Konoha's wars had subsided—for now.
Other nations were still rebuilding or quietly negotiating.
But one danger loomed: the Nine-Tails incident.
Unlike in the original timeline, the Fourth Hokage still lived—meaning the attack hadn't resulted in his death.
Still, Kai wondered if Kumogakure would return to stir trouble again.
The Cloud had emerged from the war mostly unscathed. Their recovery had been swift.
They even briefly surpassed Konoha in the past.
"Why did they target the Byakugan instead of the Sharingan?" Kai murmured aloud. "Did they think the Hyuga were weaker?"
Or had they deliberately avoided provoking the more unstable Uchiha?
Kai leaned toward the latter. If both clans rose in rebellion together, Konoha would collapse.
And the Hyuga, despite their power, were far more… controlled.
But in the end, Kai stopped caring. Let the Cloud come if they dared.
"By the way," he asked, turning to Aya, "the Hyuga clan requested a squad leader be promoted. Who's the candidate?"
"Not me," she said, waving it off. "Are you thinking of assigning me?"
"No," Kai shook his head. "You're coming with me—to headquarters. That's where you belong."
Aya smiled faintly. "I'll check with them. I don't want to lead a field team anyway."
"Just let me know who the candidate is," Kai said, stretching. "If they send someone useless, I'll send them back."
For example—if it was Hyuga Sora? He wasn't dealing with that fool.
Let the Hyuga complain if they wanted. He didn't care.