"I choose the Earth Curse Seal."
Shimizu Uchiha finally made his decision.
The cost of using the Reaper Death Seal was mutual destruction. Not only would the enemy perish, dragged into the belly of the Shinigami, but the caster would suffer the same fate, trapped alongside them unless someone summoned them out. Otherwise, it was an eternity of torment.
It was far too impractical. An improved version without side effects might be worth considering, but as it stood, it was useless. When facing an unavoidable enemy, fleeing was the better option—hence the creation of the Body Flicker Technique. Head-on confrontation was simply unwise.
Moreover, the technique required physically restraining the target. If it were that simple, during the Fourth Great Ninja War, the Third or Fourth Hokage could have used the Reaper Death Seal on Madara or Obito and ended the conflict outright.
[Earth Curse Seal has been granted…]
A glass vial appeared in Shimizu's hand, similar to the one containing the Heaven Curse Seal. However, while the Heaven Curse Seal held a deep black liquid, the Earth Curse Seal shimmered with a faint dark gold hue. Under the sunlight, the transparent glass gleamed brilliantly.
Shimizu tucked it away.
He could now begin researching how to combine the powers of both curse seals. If successful, the resulting seal on his body would be perfection itself—a pinnacle Orochimaru's years of research could never reach. Combined with the power of Moryo, Shimizu felt he could forge his own path, no longer a mere imitation but a transcendence.
"Have you heard? The Third Hokage is stepping down," Uchiha Tekka said, arms crossed behind his head.
"Captain Fugaku is sure to become a candidate for Hokage," Uchiha Inabi added, flipping through a book—the latest bestseller, a sequel to Intimate Hell. Rumor had it a certain author from the Land of Fire had completed it. Some even claimed it was Jiraiya himself.
Tekka just chuckled. The Legendary Sannin writing smut? Absurd. That rumor was as ridiculous as the one claiming Shimizu was some kind of lecherous fiend.
Uchiha Fugaku overheard his clansmen's chatter but kept walking, entering his home without pause. Mikoto, visibly pregnant, was sweeping the floor.
"Fugaku, you're back," she said with a warm smile.
Fugaku nodded and stepped aside. "Shimizu, stay for dinner tonight."
"My apologies for the intrusion," Shimizu said, emerging from behind.
Thud.
The broom slipped from Mikoto's hands, clattering to the floor as her body stiffened slightly. She hadn't expected Shimizu to come.
"What's wrong?" Fugaku asked, eyeing her suspiciously.
"Nothing, just a slip," Mikoto replied quickly, crouching to pick up the broom.
"Mikoto-neesan, take care of yourself," Shimizu said, changing into house slippers and heading to the living room. "Lord Fugaku, I'll help Mikoto-neesan in the kitchen."
Fugaku frowned slightly. Shimizu was a guest—having him cook was unusual. But then he considered his own lackluster culinary skills and Mikoto's pregnancy. It was indeed the best option.
"Alright," Fugaku agreed.
He had invited Shimizu tonight to discuss important matters. With Sarutobi Hiruzen stepping down soon, Fugaku saw an opportunity. As someone valued by the Third Hokage, Shimizu's goodwill could boost the Uchiha clan's reputation, increasing Fugaku's chances of being selected as Hokage.
Mikoto glanced at Shimizu with surprise, as if questioning his intentions. Shimizu ignored her, acting as if nothing was amiss, and walked into the kitchen. Once Mikoto followed, he slid the door shut.
Step by step, he approached her.
"What… what are you doing?" Mikoto asked, her voice tinged with panic.
Fugaku was just outside. If he heard anything, it would be the end of everything.
"I'm here to confirm something," Shimizu said, placing his hand on Mikoto's abdomen and channeling chakra.
Beyond his Sharingan, Shimizu also possessed the Byakugan bloodline limit. His offspring could potentially inherit either. Would Uchiha Itachi, once born, awaken the Sharingan or the Byakugan? Shimizu wasn't certain—recent simulations hadn't clarified this. So, he had come to Mikoto to verify which bloodline the child would inherit.
Chakra flowed steadily into her abdomen, sensing the embryo's form. Shimizu intensified the chakra, probing the infant's chakra network.
The method was simple: the Uchiha clan's bloodline carried a chakra enhancement. If the child inherited his Byakugan bloodline, their chakra would be relatively weaker. Hagoromo and Hamura each inherited only one bloodline limit—cases of inheriting both were exceedingly rare.
After a moment, Shimizu relaxed.
Uchiha Itachi would indeed be the Sharingan Itachi.
He looked at Mikoto, who stood cautiously before him. Her mature, alluring figure was even more captivating now. His heated gaze made her heart skip a beat.
In the dark confines of a sealed room, she couldn't see his eyes, but she could feel his breath. And now, seeing Shimizu like this, she instantly knew what he wanted.
Crack.
A sound came from outside.
Like a lifeline, Mikoto stepped back, took a deep breath, and called out, "Fugaku, what happened?"
"Nothing, just dropped a glass," Fugaku replied, pushing open the kitchen door and tossing the shards into a bin. He grabbed a cloth and stepped out.
"Shimizu, could you grab something from the fridge…?" Mikoto began, directing him to the ingredients as if nothing had happened.
Fugaku cleaned up the glass shards and returned, observing the harmonious scene with a nod of approval. Mikoto and Shimizu were getting along well, which pleased him. One playing the good cop, the other the bad—it would ensure Shimizu took his tasks seriously, without cutting corners.
Orphans often lacked bonds, making them prone to dissatisfaction under strict orders. Winning Shimizu over with camaraderie would be far more effective. If Shimizu remained diligent, Fugaku wouldn't mind taking him in as an adopted son.
Sunlight streamed into the living room, casting distinct shadows. As the shadows faded, the temperature outside peaked.
It was noon.
The table was laden with mouthwatering dishes. As they ate, Fugaku questioned Shimizu about recent intelligence and Sarutobi Hiruzen's movements.
"…That's all the information I have," Shimizu concluded.
"Well done," Fugaku said neutrally, picking up a piece of meat with his chopsticks.
The intelligence was similar to last time—Konoha's leadership had been quiet. From Shimizu, Fugaku learned that Sarutobi Hiruzen's stance was ambiguous, with several favored candidates. That meant Fugaku might still have a chance.
Fugaku analyzed calmly.
Mikoto, listening to their conversation, kept her eyes down, eating silently. The more she saw Shimizu, the guiltier she felt toward Fugaku. Especially after what happened in the kitchen—Shimizu was a reckless madman. She had nearly fallen to him again.
"I can't let this continue. I have to cut off this sinful tie with Shimizu," Mikoto resolved, taking a firm bite of meat. No matter what, she couldn't let Shimizu get close again. Those days were nothing but a dream.
She stole a glance at Shimizu—the first man she'd known in that sense. The memory was intoxicating, as if she were still in his embrace just a moment ago.
No!
Mikoto forced down her swirling thoughts. She wasn't an animal. She had to break free of Shimizu's influence. Something in her heart had twisted, and it needed correction.
"Mmph~" Mikoto suddenly pressed her soft lips together, a faint glossy sheen appearing on them.
Her voice was barely audible.
"Too spicy?" Fugaku asked, taking a sip of water. The food was indeed a bit spicy—Shimizu's doing, no doubt. Fugaku preferred milder flavors.
"…Yeah, it's spicy," Mikoto said, her eyes flickering, lashes trembling slightly, sending a warning glance at Shimizu.
Under the table, Shimizu had slipped off his shoes.
Mikoto's delicate brows furrowed as she pinched his foot with one hand, urging him to behave.
"It is a bit spicy," Shimizu said suddenly.
Mikoto glanced at Fugaku, who was focused on his meal. Her lips moved silently, warning Shimizu to stop.
There was a time and place for games, and this wasn't it. She was like a mother scolding a naughty child.
Shimizu placed a finger to his lips, signaling silence.
Before Mikoto could react, a faint spark flickered at his toes.
Lightning Release: Thunder Toe.
"Mmph~~" Mikoto buried her face in her glass, pretending to drink to hide her reaction.
Her trembling caught Fugaku's attention.
"Shimizu, don't make it so spicy next time," Fugaku chided. Mikoto was pregnant—spicy food wasn't healthy.
"Got it, next time," Shimizu replied, controlling the electric sparks while watching Mikoto struggle to suppress her instincts.
A moment later, a splash sounded.
Fugaku looked over to see a glass tipped over, water spilling across the table.
"Mikoto, the glass!" he exclaimed.
"Alright," Mikoto said weakly, righting the glass with trembling hands.
"Fugaku, I'm going to rest for a bit," she said, standing and hurrying away, fighting the sticky sensation clinging to her.
"Well, Lord Fugaku, I'll take my leave," Shimizu said, exchanging pleasantries before departing.
Fugaku had gotten the answers he needed, so there was no point in keeping Shimizu longer. He nodded, instructing Shimizu to keep tabs on Sarutobi Hiruzen's movements, and watched him leave.
"Water from the glass?" Fugaku muttered, noticing the wet stains on Mikoto's chair. Under the sunlight, they shimmered with a prismatic glow, reflecting the surroundings.
"This glass design is flawed," he remarked, inspecting it. It tipped over too easily.
"I'll clean up, Fugaku," Mikoto said, returning in fresh clothes, relieved to see Shimizu gone.
"…Alright," Fugaku said.
A traditional man, Fugaku rarely touched household chores. Mikoto's pregnancy wasn't too advanced, so light housework wasn't an issue.
He picked up a newspaper, resuming where he'd left off that morning.
Third Training Ground
"Transparent Escape Technique!"
Moonlight Hayate formed hand signs, his body gradually fading into the air.
"Hayate, your mastery of the Transparent Escape is getting better!" Uzuki Yugao praised, beaming with pride at her childhood friend's growth.
"Pfft!"
Moments later, a splatter of blood appeared in the seemingly empty air, trailing down to outline a hand.
Hayate's technique faltered, his form reappearing.
"Hayate, are you okay?!" Yugao rushed to his side, concern etched on her face.
Hayate, with his long brown hair, ninja headband, black bodysuit, and green flak jacket, looked every bit the standard Chunin—save for his pale complexion and dark, swollen eye bags.
"Cough, cough… It's fine, just the usual," Hayate said, coughing weakly.
Yugao rummaged through his ninja pouch, pulling out a water bottle and medicine. She unscrewed the cap and handed them to him.
Hayate thanked her, swallowing the pills with a gulp of water.
"The war's almost over, Hayate. You don't need to push yourself so hard," Yugao said hesitantly.
Rumors said the southwestern front had suffered heavy losses due to Kumogakure's Two-Tails and Eight-Tails Jinchuriki. For some reason, the Two-Tails Jinchuriki harbored a particular hatred for Konoha, leaving no survivors among her opponents. There was even a rumor that Shimizu had offended her.
With Konoha's forces stretched thin, graduation standards had been relaxed. Yugao and Hayate had both graduated early and even became Chunin—a feat unimaginable in peacetime. Their unique skills had fast-tracked their promotions during the war.
"I know," Hayate said with a shrug and a bitter smile.
It was because Yugao was so exceptional that Hayate felt pressured to keep up, training relentlessly to match her.
Yugao had already passed the Anbu selection due to her outstanding talents. Hayate could have, too—his Transparent Escape bloodline limit was perfect for the covert Anbu. But his bloodline disease held him back, delaying his Anbu induction by a year. They'd told him to try again next year, hoping his condition would improve. Otherwise, a single cough during a mission could ruin his invisibility.
"Yugao, don't you have to meet with the Anbu soon? You should go," Hayate said.
Their close bond meant they shared everything, including her Anbu acceptance.
"No, I'll stay with you a bit longer," Yugao said, shaking her head.
Since graduating early, she'd had little time to bond with Guren, a newer student at the Ninja Academy, leaving their relationship lukewarm. There was no way she could leverage that connection to ask Shimizu for help with Hayate's condition.
"If only I'd tried harder," Yugao thought, blaming herself. Seeing Hayate cough up blood pained her deeply.
"Let's go to Ichiraku Ramen. I heard the owner had a cute daughter who's practically the shop's mascot now," Hayate said, trying to lighten the mood with a touch of humor.
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