"Alright, it's getting late. Let's wrap this up."
Shisui seemed to snap out of his thoughts. He stepped forward, gave Gen's shoulder a reassuring pat, and moved past him.
Gen slid his kunai back into its pouch and followed. The Uchiha gathered around them instinctively stepped aside, clearing a path.
Shisui paused just long enough to murmur a few quiet words to Shu, meant to comfort, if not fully soothe, before jogging to catch up with Gen.
Behind them, most of the onlookers began to drift away.
A few curious clansmen lingered, pestering Shu with questions. But Shu, still reeling from the humiliation, brushed them off with a cold shove and stalked away without a word.
"That was the first time I've seen your strength up close," Shisui said as they walked. "You're incredible, Gen."
Shisui's praise was honest; he was too straightforward to feel jealousy.
"The clan calls us the Twin Stars of the Uchiha. We can't afford to tarnish that title, right?" Gen replied with a faint smile.
Damn… the chakra drain from locking him down with my Sharingan, despite it being less evolved than his, was huge. That took a third of my reserves in one shot.
If that chakra had been used on someone else, it could've trapped three elite jonin in genjutsu without them ever breaking free.
Shisui chuckled. "True enough. But if you ever awaken three tomoe in both eyes, I might be the one holding us back."
Then his tone sobered. "Though… I kind of hope you never do. That would mean you've gone through something painful again."
His hand lifted to his own eye sockets. For a moment, sadness flickered in his expression.
"Some people call the Sharingan the 'Cursed Eye'… and they're not wrong," he said quietly. "Each time it awakens or evolves, you suffer pain you never forget, because each time, it means someone you love is gone."
Gen scoffed. "That's just jealousy talking. Do they not feel pain when they lose companions? Of course they do. They just can't turn that pain into strength the way we can. So they curse us instead."
"They train for years to recover from loss. We inherit our comrades' will on the spot, turn grief into power, avenge the dead, protect the living, and survive."
The truth was simple—many in the shinobi world envied, coveted, or feared Uchiha power.
Unlike the Byakugan, which was rare but relatively easy to handle once acquired; the Sharingan was demanding, domineering.
Even someone like Hatake Kakashi, Konoha's top prodigy since its founding, had been weakened by transplanting one. His stamina suffered; his prolonged combat capability dropped.
Two Sharingan would have burned him out entirely.
For ordinary ninja, transplanting the Sharingan wasn't a blessing—it was a burden.
Shisui thought about Gen's words. They resonated. His own Sharingan had come at the cost of a comrade's life, and each evolution had been painful but it had also saved his remaining friends more than once.
"Gen, you always see things differently," Shisui said with a small smile.
Gen smirked. "Want my motto?"
Shisui leaned in, curious. "What is it?"
"Think positively about everything… and if there's blame to give, make sure it's never your own."
"…Huh?" Shisui blinked at him, thrown off by the unexpected philosophy.
Gen stopped walking, meeting his gaze. "You've awakened the three-tomoe now. You must have noticed the Sharingan's toll on your mind, right?"
"Yeah. But it's fine. I've adapted."
Gen nodded. "That's because you have strong self-control. Others… not so much. When they lose someone and combine that grief with the Sharingan's influence, without control? It's easy to fall into extremes and make bad choices."
"My motto's just a tool; to refuse mental exhaustion. Don't dwell. Pin the fault on someone or something else, no matter what it is. Enemy, bystander, even the weather—it doesn't matter. Just not yourself. Having a target to vent at keeps you from spiraling."
Shisui frowned, mulling it over. "It makes sense… but it sounds a little irresponsible."
"I'm not saying you abandon responsibility. I'm saying you give yourself a pressure valve. If I'm the only outlet for my anger and it gets blocked? That's when it's dangerous."
"…I guess that's a good point."
Gen's smirk returned. "Told you. I've been using it myself and it feels great."
"I'll… give it a try."
"Alright, enough talking. My mouth's dry. Let's go pay our respects to the patriarch and then eat."
The two walked side by side again, reaching the center of the Uchiha camp after half a minute. A large tent loomed ahead, twice the size of the others.
Two guards took their names before letting them inside.
The air was heavy. A simple mourning hall had been set up, with a senior clan ninja on duty.
It was the final night the clan leader's body would remain here. At dawn, he would be escorted back to Konoha for a proper funeral; a privilege of the great clans, unlike the simple cremation most Konoha shinobi received in the field.
Shisui's eyes grew moist as he offered incense, remembering the leader's kindness and guidance.
Gen felt nothing—he'd barely known the man—but his expression showed solemn respect all the same.
When they finished, they started toward the mess tent… only for a runner to appear.
"You are being summoned," he said.
Gen sighed inwardly. So much for dinner.