Medical Room, Konoha
Attempts to treat Shisui with genjutsu-based illusions had failed.
Earlier, Uchiha Fugaku had personally brought Shisui to the medical wing. The goal was simple: to see if Orochimaru could do anything to save Shisui's failing eyes.
Accompanying them were two of the Hokage's elder advisors—Koharu Utatane and Homura Mitokado. They had, by now, been briefed on the events of the recent war. They understood how critical Shisui's contributions had been. Still, it was clear they weren't here to praise the young Uchiha—they had come for the sake of the clan's cursed eyes.
Twisted by decades of distrust, the advisors had never let their guard down around the Uchiha. Not even now.
"The damage is severe," Orochimaru said after inspecting Shisui's eyes. "He's very likely to go blind."
He had pushed back Shisui's eyelids, studied them carefully, and arrived at a grim conclusion.
At first, the two elders looked visibly relieved. But almost immediately, their expressions turned serious again.
Realizing her reaction might've been too obvious, Koharu forced a sympathetic look and said, "Orochimaru, surely there's something you can do? Shisui played a major role in the war—we'd appreciate your full cooperation."
Her words carried an unspoken message: even if nothing could be done, they needed to be seen trying. A gesture to placate the Uchiha clan.
As another Hokage candidate, she expected Orochimaru to understand this unspoken game.
Orochimaru glanced at her with a faint smirk. "Of course I have a way."
Koharu's expression twitched slightly. The concern on her face faded, now clearly forced.
"Really? Lord Orochimaru?" Fugaku asked, hopeful.
The war had ended swiftly. Though the Uchiha had taken losses, they weren't as severe as expected—and their contribution was undeniable. Shisui's heroic stand, even at the cost of his Mangekyō Sharingan, had helped redeem the clan's image in the village's eyes.
If there was a way to preserve Shisui's eyes, it would be a huge win for the Uchiha.
"The simplest method," Orochimaru said, flexing his fingers, "is to replace the eyes altogether. A transplant is easy for me. And with Shisui's standing in the clan, he should qualify to receive another Sharingan."
Fugaku's smile faltered. He had considered this, of course. But replacing the eyes would mean losing the Mangekyō Sharingan forever.
Koharu, too, frowned. She suddenly realized Orochimaru had made that suggestion just to needle her—an indirect jab she couldn't ignore.
"There is a more advanced method as well," Orochimaru added calmly. "A more difficult procedure, yes—but if it succeeds, he may be able to retain his own eyes."
He turned his gaze to Shisui, whose eyes remained shut, body unmoving.
"Unfortunately," Orochimaru said, voice cold and matter-of-fact, "in his current condition, surgery isn't possible."
"Why not?" Fugaku's hope began to slip, replaced by frustration.
The two elder advisors scowled, clearly annoyed by Orochimaru's evasive answers.
"The procedure would require enhancing the body's physical capabilities," Orochimaru explained. "I won't bore you with the specifics, but you should know—it carries certain risks."
Orochimaru swept his gaze over the group before speaking slowly.
"Surgery like this requires an immense amount of mental strength. Originally, with his Mangekyō Sharingan, Shisui would have been the ideal candidate. But now that both eyes are blind, his spiritual condition is affected as well. Attempting the procedure in this state could easily result in death."
Fugaku took a step forward, his voice heavy with concern.
"Lord Orochimaru, is there no alternative? If we replace his eyes with a new pair of Sharingan, would he survive the surgery then?"
"It's possible," Orochimaru replied, casting a deliberate glance at him. "But the chances of failure are still high."
He paused, then explained further.
"Sharingan, as a bloodline inheritance, carries spiritual resonance from its original host. After a transplant, the recipient needs time to adapt—and that adaptation depends on how compatible the chakra and spirit are between the new eyes and Shisui's body. There are too many variables."
"Perhaps, with his talent, he could eventually awaken the Mangekyō again in the new eyes… or perhaps, in the end, he'd need yet another transplant."
He then added with a glint in his eyes, "However, if the eyes came from a close blood relative, the risk would be greatly reduced…"
Sensing Orochimaru's implication, Shisui gave a wry smile.
"There aren't many relatives in my bloodline. Hardly any of them even have the Sharingan. And even if they did… I wouldn't take their eyes. I won't."
He looked at the group respectfully and bowed his head.
"Lord Fugaku, Lord Orochimaru… thank you for your concern. But for now, I'll accept my condition as it is."
"You don't need to be so discouraged," Orochimaru said with a faint smile, his previous cold demeanor softening slightly.
His voice echoed clearly through the medical room.
"The surgery is dangerous because the method is still immature. With two or three more years of research, I believe even someone in Shisui's current state could survive it."
Shisui forced a smile, but in his heart, he hadn't given up hope.
He had been prepared to lose his eyes in battle from the beginning. In the end, Kumogakure had been driven back, and tensions between the Uchiha and the village had eased—he had done his part. He had no regrets.
Then, a voice interrupted the quiet.
"Lord Orochimaru… if the surgery succeeds, can Shisui really get his vision back?"
It was Uchiha Shinsuke. From his hospital bed nearby, he sat up suddenly, eyes wide with urgency and hope.
A skilled elite jōnin, Shinsuke had regained consciousness earlier than the others. He had quietly listened to the entire conversation.
Last night, he had watched Shisui's Susanoo clash with two Jinchūriki. Like many others, he had been overwhelmed with pride and awe. But today, learning that Shisui's eyes were gone… it was devastating.
He had made a vow—an absurd one, really—to take down a giant summoning beast and humiliate Manda himself. But that wild ambition had been built on the belief that Shisui's strength, his light, would guide the way. And now they were saying that light was gone?
He stared at Orochimaru like a drowning man clinging to his last hope.
Despite the fear and awe he felt toward the Sannin, Shinsuke trusted Orochimaru. That trust had been forged painfully, after many near-death treatments at Orochimaru's hands. Most mid-level Uchiha shinobi shared that same mix of reverence and fear for him—respected his strength, admired his medical prowess.
Being questioned so directly, Orochimaru's expression darkened. The temperature in the room seemed to drop.
To the two Hokage advisors, it was an oppressive, suffocating presence.
With a cold glare, Orochimaru said, word by word:
"Do not doubt my judgment."
Shinsuke paled but didn't flinch. He bowed slightly, then said again, more resolute this time:
"If using my body for experimentation can speed up your research—then please, use me."
The room fell silent.
Koharu and Homura both turned pale. Even Fugaku was shocked—he hadn't expected Shinsuke to offer such a sacrifice.
Before the elders could voice their objections, Orochimaru spoke first.
He looked down at Shinsuke, a cruel smirk playing at the corner of his lips.
"You? You're not qualified."
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