The rain had followed Ren back to Konoha, or perhaps Konoha simply generated its own weather of gloom. Weeks had passed since the harvest of the Magnet Release user, and Ren felt the electric buzz of that power constantly under his skin, a static charge that made his hair stand on end when he was angry.
But Danzo Shimura did not let weapons gather dust.
Ren sat in the briefing room of Root HQ. Opposite him sat an operative named Ao.
"Target profile," Ao slid a grainy photograph across the table.
Ren picked it up. The photo showed a man in standard Hidden Mist attire, but one eye was bandaged.
"This is Isamu," Ao said. "A missing-nin from the Bloody Mist. During the war, he managed to ambush a Hyuga member. He stole a Byakugan."
Ren felt a flicker of interest from the Council in his head. The "Sensory" faction—the collection of sensors he had eaten—perked up.
The All-Seeing Eye, the Mist Sensor whispered. A prize beyond measure.
"Isamu has been tracked to the Land of Hot Water," Ao continued. "He is trying to sell the eye on the black market. The Hyuga Clan has dispatched a recovery team, but…" Ao paused, a cruel smile touching his lips. "If the Hyuga recover the eye, it goes back into their vault. It remains a clan secret."
"And Lord Danzo prefers it does not?" Ren asked.
"Lord Danzo believes that such a powerful asset should belong to the village directly," Ao said. "Your mission is to intercept Isamu before the Hyuga team arrives. Eliminate him. Retrieve the eye."
"Retrieve it?" Ren asked. "Or acquire it?"
Ao looked at Ren. Rumors of Ren's "unique" processing methods had circulated within Root. They called him the "Corpse Eater" behind his back.
"Acquire the asset," Ao clarified. "Bring the ability back to Root."
The Skirmish at the Hot Springs
The Land of Hot Water was beautiful—lush forests, steaming geysers, and a pervasive smell of sulfur and pine. It was a tourist destination for civilians, but for ninja, the steam provided excellent cover.
Ren tracked Isamu to a secluded inn built into the side of a cliff. It was night. The steam rising from the springs mixed with the moonlight to create a dreamlike haze.
Ren moved across the rooftops, silent as a thought. He was using the Magnet Release to slightly repel the metal in the roofing tiles, allowing him to hover millimeters above the surface—no sound, no footprints.
He found Isamu in a private bath, surrounded by guards. Isamu had removed his bandages. In his left socket sat the stolen Byakugan, its veins pulsating as Isamu scanned the perimeter.
He can see almost 360 degrees, Ren analyzed. Stealth is impossible.
"I see you, rat!" Isamu shouted, spinning around in the water. He pointed directly at Ren's hiding spot on the roof. "Water Style: Water Dragon Bullet!"
A massive dragon of superheated water erupted from the spring, crashing through the roof.
Ren leapt back, landing in the courtyard. Steam billowed everywhere.
"You want the eye?" Isamu laughed, stepping out of the bath, water steaming off his skin. He channeled chakra into the stolen eye. "Come and take it! I can see your chakra points! I can see your weakness!"
Ren stood up. He drew his tantō.
"You can see my chakra?" Ren asked calmly. "Tell me… does it look crowded to you?"
Isamu focused his Byakugan on Ren. He gasped.
Through the White Eye, Isamu didn't see a normal human chakra network. He saw a chaotic, swirling storm. Ren's body was a vessel containing dozens of different chakra colors—blue, green, purple, yellow—all twisting and fighting like snakes in a sack. It was grotesque. It was an abomination.
"What… what are you?" Isamu stammered, stepping back.
"I am the graveyard," Ren said.
He attacked.
He didn't use ninjutsu. Isamu would see the buildup. Ren used pure speed and the Magnet Release to manipulate the kunai in his pouch. He sent a swarm of twenty magnetized blades at Isamu from all directions.
"Rotation!" Isamu screamed, trying to mimic the Hyuga defensive technique. But he was a foreigner; his control was imperfect. The rotation was slow, jagged.
Ren exploited the gap. He used a chakra thread to yank Isamu's ankle, breaking his stance.
Isamu fell. Ren was on him instantly.
The fight ended with Ren's blade through Isamu's heart.
Silence returned to the hot spring. The steam curled around them like ghosts.
Ren stood over the body. He looked at the Byakugan. It was staring up at the moon, white and milky.
Eat it, the Council roared.
This was different. Usually, Ren ate memories to gain skills. But a Dojutsu (eye technique) was biological. It required a physical component.
Ren knelt. He placed his hand over Isamu's face.
He didn't pluck the eye out. That was crude.
He used the Soul Eater technique to target the specific chakra pathways connected to the optical nerve. He absorbed the essence of the mutation. He ate the genetic blueprint that made the Byakugan work.
But then, a strange impulse took him. His body, mutated by years of this consumption, hungered for the hardware, not just the software.
Ren felt a burning itching in his own right eye. His own optic nerve began to burn, rewire, and mutate. The stolen chakra flooded his system, overriding his own DNA.
He screamed. It felt like a hot needle was being pushed into his pupil.
He clutched his face, writhing on the wet stones. The pain was absolute. It was the price of evolution.
When the pain subsided, Ren lay panting on his back. He opened his right eye.
The world had changed.
He didn't see the inn. He saw the wooden beams inside the walls. He saw the heat signatures of the rats under the floorboards. He looked down at his own hand and saw the blue rivers of chakra flowing through his veins.
He looked at Isamu's corpse. The Byakugan in the dead man's socket had turned gray, dull, devoid of power. Ren had sucked the magic out of it.
He walked to a polished metal shield hanging on the wall. He looked at his reflection.
His left eye was his natural teal. His right eye was pure, vein-streaked white.
"Byakugan," Ren whispered.
The world looked incredibly clear. Sharp. Definable.
But as he looked at the forest, he realized something terrifying. The Byakugan showed him the truth of the physical world—the flows of energy, the hidden traps. But it didn't show him the beauty. The trees were just wood and water. The moon was just rock.
The world was gray scale.
"Does it matter what kind of eye you have," Ren murmured, "if your heart paints everything black?"
The Hyuga Confrontation
The return to Konoha was not quiet.
The Hyuga recovery team arrived at the hot springs an hour after Ren left. They found Isamu dead, his stolen eye rendered useless. But they found traces of the thief.
Two days later, the Hyuga Clan formally demanded an audience with the Hokage.
Ren stood in the center of the Hokage's office. Hiruzen Sarutobi sat at his desk, pipe in mouth, looking tired. Danzo stood by the window, impassive.
And facing Ren was Hiashi Hyuga, the clan head. His eyes were cold, white daggers.
"This is an outrage," Hiashi stated, his voice trembling with suppressed rage. "Our recovery team found traces of Leaf chakra at the scene. And now, I look at this… this boy… and I see our sacred treasure in his skull."
Hiashi pointed at Ren. Ren wore a standard eyepatch over his right eye, but Hiashi's own Byakugan could see right through it.
"Remove the patch," Hiashi commanded.
Ren looked at Hiruzen. The Hokage nodded slowly.
Ren pulled the strap off.
The white eye stared back at Hiashi.
"Thief!" Hiashi activated his Byakugan, veins bulging around his temples. "You dare steal the kekkei genkai of the noble Hyuga? You are a common mutt! You will be sealed immediately!"
"Hold," Danzo said. His voice cut through the tension like a blade.
"There was no theft," Danzo said smoothly. "Agent Yamanaka engaged the target to retrieve the eye. During the combat, he was exposed to a… biological feedback loop."
"Feedback loop?" Hiashi scoffed. "Do you take me for a fool?"
"Ren," Danzo said. "Demonstrate."
Ren channeled chakra. But not just any chakra. He used the chameleon-like ability of his own fractured soul to mask the Byakugan's signature. He flooded his eye with the "Mist" chakra he had stolen.
The white eye didn't deactivate, but the veins receded. The color shifted slightly, becoming a milky blue.
"It is a temporary adaptation," Danzo lied, but the lie was supported by the confusing sensory data Ren was projecting. "The Yamanaka clan specializes in mind-body transmission. In extreme cases, they can mimic the physical traits of those they connect with. Ren connected with Isamu to kill him. His body is… echoing the Byakugan. It will fade in time."
Hiashi stared at Ren. He activated his own eyes again. He looked deep into Ren's chakra network.
What he saw confused him. It wasn't the clean, pure structure of a natural Byakugan. It was a mess. A garbled, polluted signal that vaguely resembled a Byakugan but felt… wrong. Disgusting.
"It is… impure," Hiashi whispered, recoiling slightly. "It is an abomination."
"Is it stolen?" Hiruzen asked Hiashi. "Does it carry the Hyuga seal?"
"No," Hiashi admitted, wiping his hands as if he had touched filth. "It lacks the purity of our blood. It is a grotesque imitation."
"Then there is no crime," Danzo concluded. "He destroyed the thief and the stolen eye was rendered inert. The village is secure."
Hiashi looked at Ren with utter contempt. "You are a mockery of a ninja, Yamanaka. Do not think this is over. If that eye does not 'fade,' the Hyuga will remove it ourselves."
Hiashi turned and swept out of the room.
Ren stood there, replacing his eyepatch. He felt a surge of cold superiority.
Arrogant, the voice in his head sneered. He talks of purity while his branch members live in slavery. I am more Hyuga than he is. I earned this eye. I fought for it. He was just born with it.
"You walk a dangerous line, Danzo," Hiruzen said, putting down his pipe. "And you, Ren… be careful. The soul is not a toy box."
"Understood, Lord Hokage," Ren said.
The Cold Dinner
Ren walked home. He decided to visit his parents' house in the civilian district. It had been months.
He knocked on the door. His mother opened it. She looked older.
"Ren?" she asked, hesitant. She looked at his eyepatch, his Anbu armor, his cold posture.
"Hello, mother," Ren said. "May I come in?"
Dinner was a silent affair. His father, Kenta, ate quickly, avoiding eye contact. The air was thick with unsaid words.
Ren looked at the food. Salted grilled fish. His favorite.
He took a bite.
He tasted nothing.
His taste buds had been altered by the physiological changes of the Byakugan and the cocktail of other DNA he had absorbed. The fish tasted like wet cardboard.
"Is it… good?" his mother asked, her voice hopeful.
"It is adequate sustenance," Ren said automatically.
His mother flinched. She put down her chopsticks.
"Who are you?" she whispered. "You look like my son. You sound like him. But… when you walked in, the flowers in the hallway wilted."
Ren looked at the vase of azaleas. They were indeed drooping, reacting to the necrotic, death-saturated chakra he was leaking.
"I am Ren," he said. "I am a Jonin of the Leaf. I protect you."
"You don't protect us," his father said suddenly, slamming his hand on the table. "You scare us! The neighbors talk, Ren. They say you work for the darkness. They say you… eat people."
"Kenta!" his mother gasped.
Ren put down his bowl. He stood up.
He looked at his parents with his one visible eye. He wanted to feel hurt. He wanted to cry, like he had in the forest.
But the Byakugan beneath the patch was active. He saw their fear. He saw the adrenaline spiking in their blood. He saw them not as parents, but as terrified civilians.
And he felt… nothing.
The Will of Fire was supposed to be about protecting the King—the unborn generation, the civilians. But when the King looks at the Knight with disgust, what is the point?
"I am sorry I disturbed your dinner," Ren said.
He walked to the door.
"Ren, wait!" his mother called out, sobbing.
He didn't wait. He walked out into the night.
He walked down the street, activating his right eye beneath the patch. He looked at the village. He saw the lovers in the park, the families in their homes, the drunks in the bars.
He saw their chakra. He saw their fragile, pulsing lives.
They are so weak, the Council whispered. So blind. We see everything, Ren agreed. We are the only ones who see.
He touched his eyepatch. The White Eye was his now. It was a tool of surveillance, of precision, of power.
But as he walked back to his empty apartment, to his empty life, he realized the truth of his condition.
He could see through walls. He could see for miles.
But he couldn't see a future where he wasn't alone.
And if the village wouldn't hold him accountable, if the Will of Fire was just a slogan to burn bodies with… then who would stop him?
Nobody.
Ren smiled a thin, bloodless smile.
"Good," he whispered.
End of Chapter 8.