The night grew darker, and the air thickened with smoke from scorched wood. The earlier battle should have ended there, with Uchiha Mamoru, Kaku, and Feng humiliated at Shigure's hands. But fate wasn't content.
The three Uchiha had survived by luck, but nursing bitter rage, they weren't about to leave. With stealthy steps, they circled back, dragging their battered bodies into the shadows, whispering with venom.
"Brother Feng," Mamoru hissed, eyes bloodshot. "Hit him harder this time. That worthless bastard dared humiliate me — in front of everyone."
"You still cry about humiliation?" Kaku spat, clutching his ribcage. "If we don't crush him now, the clan will laugh at us forever."
The tallest one—Uchiha Feng—snorted with disdain. Scars cut across his cheek, and his eyes gleamed with cold arrogance. "He humiliated you because you're weak. This isn't about honor, it's about convenience. One flick of my finger, and he's dust."
Mamoru forced a crooked grin. "Tonight, we finish this."
They slipped into Shigure's small home once more. The Genin's room looked perfectly still, his body motionless on the thin bedding, breaths slow and steady.
Mamoru's smirk widened at the sight.
"Pathetic. Look at him—so open, so defenseless." He swung the sack over Shigure's head and beat the form beneath with a thick stick, laughter spilling out.
"Ha! How arrogant do you feel now?"
But Kaku paused after the third strike. Something felt off. The sound was wrong. Too hollow.
"Wait—"
Crack.
The form beneath splintered into wood.
"A log—!?" Feng barked, disbelief shaking his voice.
"Substitution Technique!" Mamoru yelped, heart freezing.
Smoke burst outward violently.
And then came the sound of many voices.
"Behind you."
Shigure's shadow clones erupted from the smoke, fanning across the room, eyes aglow crimson and white. They had surrounded the three before they could retreat.
The real Shigure stepped into the lamplight, hands clasped, Sharingan spinning coldly. "The noble Uchiha clan. Descendants of the great Indra. Protectors of Konoha." His voice cut sharp and dry. "Sneaking into my home at night to murder a child. How far my bloodline has sunk."
Mamoru's smirk shattered, replaced by a trembling mask. He stammered. "I-It's a misunderstanding—" He looked desperately to his brothers. "Big brother! Second brother! Now!"
In an instant, seals cracked through the air.
"Katon: Hōsenka no Jutsu!" (Fire Style: Phoenix Fire Jutsu!)
"Katon: Ryūka no Jutsu!" (Fire Style: Dragon Fire Jutsu!)
Ball after ball of fire spat from Kaku's lips, tiny suns filling the room like meteors. Feng's flame roared through the narrow walls in a scorching line, coiling like a snake ready to swallow Shigure whole.
The house sparked into a firestorm.
But Shigure was already moving, chakra surging with deadly precision.
"Doton: Doryūheki!" (Earth Style: Earth Flow Wall!)
The walls of his small room groaned as earthen barriers crashed violently upward, halting the twin infernos in their tracks. Sparks sheared against rock, smoke scorched the ceiling. Shigure's chakra held steady, his face unflinching.
"You dare burn me alive under my own roof?" His eyes narrowed, pale tomoe spinning. "Then burn in return."
Five clones formed around him instantly, flanking. Together, they wove seals, their voices in unison with his own.
"Katon: Gōkakyū no Jutsu!" (Great Fireball Jutsu!)
Six meteoric fireballs roared outward, engulfing every corner of the small house. The trio of Uchiha barely dodged with frantic leaps into the night air.
They regrouped outside, panting.
But Shigure wasn't finished. This was the moment he had engineered. His clones' flames hadn't been meant to kill—they had been meant to force them upward.
In midair, with no walls, no cover, no footing—they were vulnerable.
"You've jumped into my trap," Shigure whispered, his palms spreading. "Jūkenhō: Hakkeshō Kūshō!"
Eight Trigrams: Empty Palm!
Invisible chakra shockwaves ripped through the air, blasting the three brothers down before they even realized their mistake. Their bodies crashed into the dirt with sickening force, blood spraying from their lips.
Kaku's hands clawed at the ground weakly. "I-It can't be… Hyūga taijutsu… from… an Uchiha?"
Feng spat blood, disbelief shattering his arrogance. "He… copied Gentle Fist?!"
Shigure descended on them, cold as steel. "You underestimate what I am."
But before he could deliver the final strike, his white-tinted Sharingan caught flickers of movement. Dozens of masked figures were approaching, chakra signatures sharp and deadly.
ANBU.
Shigure's lip curled. "Hnh. Lucky. That ruckus brought the wolves." He dissipated his clones, stepping back deliberately.
Moments later, masked ANBU in dark armor landed across the wreckage. They were swift, efficient—too swift. Their leader's steps revealed no alarm. He scanned the scene, eyes cold, and his voice snapped like judgment.
"You are all Uchiha… fighting inside the village, using village-destroying jutsu. All four of you—come with us."
The three brothers smirked despite their wounds. Mamoru hissed through broken teeth. "Now you're finished, bastard."
But Shigure's eyes narrowed. His strange gaze dissected the lead ANBU's chakra flow. It was wrong. Too familiar. The pattern of the Uchiha's chakra network was exposed before him.
So. These were not the Hokage's ANBU.
They were the Uchiha Police Force—masquerading under masks.
Their leader removed his mask with deliberate mockery, scarlet eyes flashing in the night. Three-magatama gleamed, bright and cruel.
"This is the Sharingan. This is what it means to be Uchiha," the man said, his face sneering. "Not you. Not a mistake birthed to shame us."
Kaku and Feng smirked through their bruises. Mamoru laughed like a child hiding behind his father.
Fury welled in Shigure's chest, but his face remained cold. I can't show weakness now. I must wait for a chance.
The ANBU sneered. "The Hokage may spare orphans out of pity. But smart pups bite the hand too often—and the clan bites back. Remember that: you will not live long."
And then he walked closer, assured, his guard lowered. "Because trash like you will never awaken the Sharingan."
Shigure's eyes snapped open.
White tomoe spun into alignment. His gaze pierced through the man's chest, tracing chakra flow directly to a vital tenketsu.
His palm moved like lightning.
"Jūken!"
Shigure's hand slammed against the Uchiha's chest, Gentle Fist bursting chakra directly into his heart.
The man stiffened, eyes wide, disbelief etched into every vein. Blood flecked his teeth. "You… brat… you're… nothing but…"
He crumpled instantly, lifeless. His three-magatama spun dimly once more, then vanished forever.
Silence pressed down, thick and unnerving.
Mamoru, Kaku, Feng—all three froze as though time itself had stopped. Their eyes were bloodshot, trembling.
"You… you killed… an ANBU—" Mamoru stammered, stumbling backward in terror.
"You!" Kaku's voice broke, filled with panic. "You murdered Konoha's elite right in the village!"
Feng's lips shook, disbelief and fear clashing in his guts. "How…? One touch… one… and he was dead?! You're nothing but a—Genin! Even jōnin can't… can't do that—"
Shigure's clones exploded back into being around them, surrounding with silent menace. His strange dōjutsu gleamed pale and cruel.
"Yes." His voice was low, merciless. "And since you witnessed it… you won't live either."
The air pressure rose, fire chakra pooling, shadows looming outward from the boy they once mocked.
And for the first time, Uchiha Mamoru saw something that shook him more than death — the realization that Uchiha Shigure was already something far beyond a Genin… beyond a child. He was a predator hidden in their clan's weak blood.
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