---Third POV---
Shiori was meticulously studying the Chidori scroll given to her by Ryouma. She had seen him use this Lightning Release technique many times before.
Not only was it powerful, but its developmental potential was immense.
"Hehehe."
She couldn't help but let out a low chuckle in her room. The sound of her own laughter startled her a bit. When was the last time she had genuinely laughed? The realization made her uncomfortable, as though she'd been caught in a moment of weakness. Her features rearranged themselves into the familiar mask of indifference that had become more comfortable than any smile.
Tidying up her desk and notes a bit, she prepared to leave for her routine training. Training was sacred. And it was the only true path to strength. Each minute spent elsewhere was wasted potential.
As she stepped out of her room and passed through the living room, her father unexpectedly called out to her.
"Wait, Shiori."
At the time, Homura was sitting on the living room sofa, surrounded by a few empty sake bottles.
"What is it?" Shiori replied coldly, pausing without turning fully.
"Heh." Homura let out an awkward laugh, patting the sofa beside him. "Just for a moment."
"You've been drinking again."
"Observant as always," Homura replied. "But my mind is clear enough for what we need to discuss."
Seeing her father's serious expression, Shiori sensed he had a lot to say.
Without a word, she turned and opened the door, walking out without looking back. She still had to train with the ninjutsu Ryouma had given her; she didn't have time to entertain her drunkard father.
However, after walking a few steps beyond the door, she noticed that the surroundings had changed.
She was back in her living room. Turning around, she saw that the door she had just opened had somehow become her bedroom door.
Her eyes narrowed, instantly realizing what had happened. Forming hand signs, she declared, "Kai!"
Yet the surroundings didn't change. Only Homura's voice echoed again.
"Now can we talk?"
A father knows his daughter best. He was well aware that Shiori wouldn't listen to him willingly. So, from the moment she had asked, "What is it?" she had already fallen into his pre-prepared genjutsu.
He looked at her smugly.
Frowning, Shiori reluctantly walked to the farthest corner of the sofa and sat down.
The moment she did, the surroundings shattered like glass, fragments of false reality dissolving into the true scene. It was as if she had walked straight to the sofa from the beginning.
She glared coldly at her father. Her eyes conveyed what words wouldn't. Family or not, respect had boundaries. Now, she could only hear him out. Whatever he wants to say, the sooner he says it, the sooner I can leave.
Hopefully, it wasn't some long-winded attempt at familial bonding.
"You've already awakened the three-tomoe Sharingan, haven't you?"
"Yes. So what?"
"And how did you achieve that final tomoe?" Homura studied her carefully. "What loss triggered it?"
"That's personal," Shiori tensed slightly. "Is this interrogation necessary?"
"Just establishing our starting point," Homura said with a dismissive wave. "Do you crave power?"
"?"
Shiori tilted her head, confused by the seemingly idiotic question. Who wouldn't want power?
"What kind of question is that? Power is survival. Power is respect. Power is freedom from being controlled."
"Interesting that you didn't say 'power is protection,'" Homura noted with a slight tilt of his head.
"I can only protect others if I'm strong enough myself," she replied defensively.
Without letting her dwell on it, Homura asked, "Have you heard of the Mangekyō Sharingan?"
At the mention of the legendary dōjutsu, her posture subtly changed. "Of course. It's said to have been awakened by Madara, and its power could rival the First Hokage's Wood Release."
Talking about this topic seemed to spark Shiori's interest, and she spoke more than usual.
"Heh. Rival the First Hokage?" Homura scoffed. "A useless power if it can't even protect the ones most important to you."
Clearly, he had a different perspective. Continuing, he said, "The Mangekyō Sharingan isn't a blessing of the Uchiha clan, it's a curse. When an Uchiha experiences love and then loses it, that curse is awakened."
"Love? The Uchiha history books only mention great trauma and emotional distress."
"And what greater trauma is there than losing what you truly love?" Homura's smile was bitter. "The history books sanitize the truth."
"Why are you telling me this? Don't tell me…"
Before Shiori could finish, Homura interrupted. "That's right. I once had a very important partner. Later, he… died. And then I awakened these eyes." As he spoke, the atmosphere in the room grew cold and oppressive.
Under Shiori's astonished gaze, Homura's pupils changed.
The blood-red Sharingan in his eyes transformed. The familiar three tomoe began to bleed into each other, the pattern shifting and morphing. Three teardrop-shaped tomoe connected at their ends to form a new pattern. It was completely different from the standard three-tomoe Sharingan.
This was beautiful.
"The Mangekyō Sharingan, the cursed eyes of the Uchiha clan," Homura said, his voice taking on an icy tone.
Shiori couldn't fully comprehend his words. After calmly analyzing for a moment, she responded, "Why do you say that? The Mangekyō Sharingan is just a tool. Even if, as you claim, you gained its power by losing someone important to you, the root cause was simply your own lack of ability."
"Such cold analysis," Homura winced slightly. "But not incorrect."
"If you had been stronger, your partner wouldn't have died, and you wouldn't have these eyes. The power came too late to be useful."
"Our greatest power comes only after we've failed to protect what matters." Homura sighed deeply. His words were not without reason, so he continued explaining to Shiori. "The Sharingan is also known as the 'Eye That Reflects the Heart.' The Mangekyō Sharingan is called so because those who awaken it develop unique techniques shaped by their own emotions and psyche."
"My ocular technique is called Ōtoshi. It allows me to see and control time within a designated area."
Shiori wasn't sure why her father was telling her all this, but she didn't let her thoughts show.
"Are you boasting to me?" she asked coldly.
Homura shook his head. "You'll understand why soon enough."
Ignoring her sarcasm, he deactivated his Mangekyō Sharingan and continued his narrative.
"When I awakened the Mangekyō, I felt an evil chakra invading my mind. It tried to erode my spirit. I used Ōtoshi to revert my body to its normal state, keeping myself in control."
"Evil chakra? That sounds like superstition," Shiori's skepticism was evident.
"I thought so too, until I felt it," Homura replied. "It's like... a voice without words, urging you toward darkness."
"And you believe this... presence... is connected to the eyes themselves?"
"I know it is."
"But the Mangekyō Sharingan comes with a cost. The more you use its ocular power, the more you lose your vision. That evil chakra will eventually overtake my mind. By then, I might do something unspeakable—even I wouldn't know what."
"In the underground chamber of the Naka Shrine, there's a stone tablet passed down through generations. It contains information about the Mangekyō Sharingan. Only by transplanting a relative's Mangekyō can one obtain the Eternal Mangekyō Sharingan—endless light and infinite power. With it, I could use Ōtoshi indefinitely to maintain my sanity."
"Shiori, if you truly desire power, then kill me, awaken your Mangekyō Sharingan, and transplant my eyes to gain the Eternal Mangekyō," he spoke with a calm demeanor, as though his own life was not the topic at hand.
Power beyond imagination... at the cost of patricide. Shiori's pupils narrowed slightly. Learning that her drunken, seemingly useless father had awakened the Mangekyō Sharingan was already shocking enough. Now he wanted her to kill him?
Though she didn't have much affection for him, he was still family. She did crave power, but she wasn't insane. There was no way she would kill her own kin just to gain the Mangekyō Sharingan.
Without hesitation, she refused. "I won't do it. Even without those eyes, I can still become a true stronghold."
"Why refuse?" Homura studied her. "Is it sentiment?"
"Killing a family member with valuable information for uncertain power is poor strategy. Besides, if those eyes corrupted you, what's to say they wouldn't corrupt me even faster?"
"A practical refusal. Not a moral one," Homura's lips curved into a small smile.
She paused briefly before continuing. "Besides, that stone tablet…"
"You're going to say it might not even be true, right?" Homura interjected, completing her thought.
"Yes," Shiori was surprised he anticipated her thought. "Ancient texts often mix truth with mythology. Especially when they conveniently require sacrifice."
"Critical thinking. Good," Homura nodded approvingly.
"You're not disappointed I refused to murder you? How touching," Shiori's voice was flat.
"On the contrary. Your skepticism proves you're ready to hear what I really wanted to discuss."
Shiori stared directly at him, curious to hear his response.
"You're absolutely right," Homura admitted, his demeanor suddenly changing as he abandoned his dangerous suggestion.
"What do you mean?"
"That stone tablet reveals more information based on the level of ocular power you have. When I viewed it with my Mangekyō Sharingan, I could feel that evil chakra trying to manipulate my mind—urging me to believe its words unconditionally."
"You're saying the tablet itself is... corrupted?" Shiori frowned.
"Or designed to corrupt. After using Ōtoshi to restore myself, I was able to critically evaluate its contents. And so, Shiori, I have an idea."
"Let's hear it," Shiori replied coldly. "If it's another plan to have me kill you, save your breath. If you want to die, go to the Kiri battlefield and perish there—I'll avenge you."
"Such filial devotion. Heartwarming," Homura chuckled.
"Just get to the point," Shiori glared.
"What if we could extract the power without the corruption?" Homura leaned forward. "I've been studying the eye's structure with my time-manipulation ability."
"You mean... surgically?" Shiori asked.
"In a sense. By mapping the chakra pathways unique to the Mangekyō and selectively transplanting only certain portions..."
"You think you could transfer the power without the curse?" Shiori followed the logic.
"Or at least minimize it."
Homura chuckled, knowing his daughter's personality all too well. He had anticipated from the beginning that Shiori would never kill him for the Mangekyō Sharingan. She was, after all, a gentle soul even if she didn't show it. If she had accepted his first proposal, he might have been even more uneasy.
"Do you really think this could work?" After listening to Homura's second proposal, Shiori furrowed her brows, expressing her doubt.
Homura grabbed the half-empty bottle of sake next to him, took a swig, and let out a burp.
"I don't know. But isn't it worth a try? After all, waiting for my ocular power to deplete and that evil chakra to corrupt me seems like a waste. We might as well make better use of it."
Shiori glanced at the pile of empty sake bottles beside the sofa. "So, all this time, your drinking habit has been your way of delaying the effects of that evil chakra?"
"Not really. The sake just tastes good."
"…"
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I don't know how many read the Trump ff. It has 4 chapters now. The chapters are quite long, with the latest one having nearly 10k words! Some feedback would be nice. About info dump, pacing etc.
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