"Enjin, what exactly happened?"
Shisui stepped forward, deliberately placing himself between Enjin and Kakashi.
Enjin's gaze never left Kakashi—more precisely, it was fixed on the Sharingan set into his eye socket.
"When I examined their bodies just now," Enjin said hoarsely, "I discovered… their Sharingan are gone."
His breathing grew uneven.
"There were no signs of enemy intrusion anywhere in the camp. So tell me—who else could have taken their eyes?"
"Calm down, Enjin," Shisui said firmly, trying to steady him. "Everyone here is a comrade of the Village. No one would do something like this."
But Enjin's hand had already moved to his ninja tool pouch.
"The one standing right there made his name using the Sharingan, didn't he?" His voice was sharp, cutting.
"You're too naive, Shisui."
When the four of them had been transferred into Anbu, doubts had already circulated. Some suspected the village's intentions weren't entirely pure. Yet Fugaku had persuaded them otherwise—the Uchiha needed their own eyes and voices within Anbu. Since they were chosen, refusing would only worsen matters.
And what had they gained?
They were sent far from the center of power, relegated to tedious patrols on a distant front. The intelligence work they had anticipated never came.
Dying in battle was a ninja's fate. Enjin could accept that—eventually.
But now… even their eyes had been stolen.
"They… they didn't even let them rest—"
"Shisui," Roshi interjected calmly, cutting Enjin off mid-sentence.
His gaze met Shisui's, the meaning unmistakable.
If you don't act, I will.
Enjin took a cautious step back, fingers tightening around the hilt of a kunai. Just as he was about to speak again, Shisui's hand settled on his shoulder.
Two pairs of crimson Sharingan locked onto each other.
Enjin didn't close his eyes. Uchiha pride would never allow him to avert his gaze in a dōjutsu confrontation.
The next instant, his body stiffened. The fire in his eyes dimmed rapidly, and his strength vanished, his weight sagging forward as Shisui caught him.
"I'm sorry," Shisui said quietly, turning toward Kakashi and the others. "Enjin is… overwhelmed."
Kakashi waved it off, his visible eye grave. "That's not the issue."
His attention lingered on Enjin's words.
"The Sharingan…"
"Kakashi-senpai," Roshi said, already moving. "Please handle a full internal sweep of the camp."
"I'll examine the scene."
He stepped into the tent where the bodies were kept.
The light inside was dim. Two forms lay beneath white sheets on makeshift beds.
Roshi pulled one sheet back and examined the face beneath.
The eye sockets were empty—cleanly, expertly removed.
He crouched and inspected the ground. There were no signs of Earth Release infiltration. No disturbed soil. No residual chakra fluctuations.
If the camp's patrols had not failed, then the intruder possessed either a rare secret technique… or Space-Time Ninjutsu.
Given the nature of the enemies on this front—and the true forces possibly standing behind those mercenary ninja—the list of suspects was not long.
Still, Roshi refused to draw conclusions prematurely. Not until Kakashi confirmed whether there had been any gaps in the alert system.
The tent flap rustled.
Shisui stepped inside.
When his eyes fell upon the hollow sockets of his fallen clansmen, he fell silent.
"Has someone been guarding this place the entire time?" Roshi asked.
Shisui kept his tone steady, though the strain beneath it was unmistakable. "Enjin himself has been here most of the time. Even when he stepped away, he never went far—he stayed nearby."
"And besides him?" Roshi pressed. "Has anyone else entered or left?"
"Yes," Shisui admitted. "But whenever that happened, Enjin was usually present."
So the vigilance was solid.
For outsiders, transplanted Sharingan came with significant strain. But for the Uchiha themselves, the eyes were their own—no additional burden, no abnormal chakra consumption.
Roshi spoke again, his voice calm but pointed. "Allow me to ask something that may sound disrespectful."
Shisui's expression shifted. "Go ahead."
"Is there… anything wrong with Uchiha Enjin?"
"Enjin?" Shisui shook his head without hesitation. "No. Even if he holds radical views, he would never do something like this to his own comrades."
"I'm only eliminating possibilities," Roshi replied flatly.
The Sharingan were already gone. That fact would not change. Recovery was all but impossible.
What mattered now was how to handle the living problem.
"Take me to him."
Shisui hesitated. "Roshi… he might still be—"
"I'll handle it."
Inside the temporary holding tent, Enjin had already regained consciousness. He sat on the ground with his hands bound, two Konoha ninja standing guard at either side.
Hearing footsteps, he lifted his head—and met Roshi's gaze.
"So it's you…" The loss in the dōjutsu clash had clearly drained him; his voice was hoarse. "Come to witness the Uchiha tearing itself apart?"
Roshi didn't react. "When did you discover the Sharingan were missing?"
"Haven't I already said it?" Enjin snapped. "Just now!"
At the mention of the eyes, his agitation surged again.
"According to preliminary findings," Roshi continued coolly, "you were the primary person guarding the bodies. You also had the most contact with them."
Enjin glared.
Roshi wasn't here to comfort him.
If Enjin remained convinced he was a victim, nothing Roshi said would reach him. He would dismiss everything as excuses made by the guilty.
So Roshi pressed forward—hard.
"When the relief unit arrived," Roshi said, voice razor-sharp, "you announced the loss of the Sharingan in front of everyone and immediately accused a fellow comrade of theft."
"Based on logic alone," he continued, "compared to Kakashi Hatake—against whom there is no direct evidence—aren't you the greater suspect, Uchiha Enjin?"
"You—!" Enjin's pupils flared red.
Before he could finish, an overwhelming pressure crashed down on him.
Roshi's chakra surged outward like a physical force. The air seemed to thicken, crushing Enjin's chest. His breath hitched as his back slammed into the tent wall, feet scraping helplessly against the ground.
Terror flooded his veins.
Such a dense, terrifying chakra… this wasn't normal.
"This is simply a logical conclusion drawn from the information at hand," Roshi said, stepping closer. "So the one who needs to prove his innocence now isn't Kakashi."
"It's you."
He stared directly into Enjin's wide, trembling Sharingan, his tone cold and unforgiving.
"You were once an elite of the Police Force. Handpicked for Anbu."
"Can't you even grasp something this basic?"
"Don't disgrace the Uchiha any further."
Disgrace… the Uchiha?
The words struck harder than any blow.
Pinned beneath that suffocating chakra, Enjin's thoughts shattered. His anger, his grief, his resentment over being sent to the front line—everything collapsed at once.
In its place was only confusion.
I… am the biggest suspect?
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