The cold wind whistled through the branches.
Three masked figures moved like shadows.
Before them, Uchiha Kuroya stood, his Mangekyō Sharingan fixed on them.
The crimson eye gleamed in the darkness.
The world's details were razor-sharp—too sharp. Never had he perceived everything with such clarity; he could see the faintest tremor in the ANBU's muscles.
But… his body couldn't react at that speed.
"A child with the Mangekyō Sharingan… we must rip out his eyes and take them to Danzō-sama," murmured one of the Root ANBU in a cold tone. "Prepare yourselves. Attack formation."
Kuroya swallowed hard. In his mind, the ability of his Mangekyō was clear—Kōkan no Shōmei.
With his right eye, he could make a deal with reality itself… but every trade came with a price.
He shut his eyes and activated the power, wishing for more strength.
Inside, a voice whispered the cost: Twenty years of life.
Kuroya accepted.
Chakra erupted through his body like boiling liquid.
His muscles swelled, his heart pounded in his chest, and the air around him began to vibrate.
The ANBU stepped back, just slightly. "What—?" one muttered.
Kuroya didn't think—he lunged at the first.
His kunai grazed the enemy's mask, followed by the metallic clash of weapons and a kick that sent him staggering back.
"Too slow," thought the ANBU, right before Kuroya's second strike cut into his shoulder.
It was raw, uncontrolled strength… but lethal all the same.
"Tch!" The second ANBU appeared behind him, stabbing with a short blade.
The third struck from the side, his kunai piercing Kuroya's heart.
He felt the metal tear through his ribs, and hot blood filled his mouth.
"Five years… for my wound."
In a single breath, the flesh sealed shut and the bleeding stopped.
The ANBU hesitated, watching him rise as if nothing had happened.
"Impossible," one whispered.
Kuroya charged again.
His vision anticipated every move, every shift in chakra flow… but his technique was clumsy.
He struck with too much force, wasted energy, and left openings for counterattacks.
The first blocked, the second countered, and the third tried to grab him from behind.
Kuroya twisted, colliding with two of them and hurling a kunai at the third's neck… he missed.
"Damn it! This is my first real fight!"
His breathing turned uneven. The weight of those twenty stolen years pressed down on him.
"Kill him quickly," ordered an ANBU.
The first came from the front, the second from the side, the third from behind.
Kuroya dodged the first, blocked the second, but the third's blade tore into his arm.
He cursed. Watching Naruto, he had always laughed at the ANBU for being useless—but these three weren't giving him a single moment to breathe.
Whenever he tried to strike one, the other two blocked him. Whenever he saw an opening, another flank attack came. Wounds piled up.
He spent another five years of life to heal.
The injury vanished instantly, but the pain lingered.
Thirty years of life, given up in one night.
At this rate… I won't live to see twenty for real.
Desperation and rage mixed together. His eyes burned, and the Mangekyō began to bleed.
The ANBU froze for an instant.
The chakra pouring from Kuroya was dense, heavy—almost solid.
The leaves around him floated in the air.
"Impossible…" one whispered.
They tried to retreat, but it was already too late.
Kuroya raised his head.
Behind him, as if born from the void, a massive skeletal figure rose—translucent and incomplete, with a single arm and a hollow head whose eyes blazed like burning coals.
"Susanoo…" one ANBU breathed in terror.
Kuroya was barely conscious. The chakra drained him as if tearing away his life itself, but his goal was clear: end them here.
"Die!" he roared.
The Susanoo's arm came down like a colossal hammer.
The first ANBU didn't have time to dodge; the blow hurled him into a tree, shattering his mask.
The second tried to flank him, but the skeletal forearm swept him aside, slamming him into the ground with a sickening crack.
The third hurled an explosive tag straight at Kuroya, aiming to destroy both him and the incomplete avatar.
The Susanoo raised its arm, blocking the blast, and countered with a punch that obliterated the enemy's position completely.
Kuroya collapsed to his knees.
Blood streamed from his Mangekyō Sharingan.
Every breath reminded him of the price he had paid.
"Thirty years… in one night."