At the same moment he roared, Jinpachi Munashi tried to twist his body, dragging his injured leg as he forced the Explosive Blade back in defense—
But the delay was fatal.
The sword tip, guided and predicted by the Sharingan, had already arrived first.
"Puchi."
A soft sound of steel piercing flesh.
Yet to the surrounding Kirigakure shinobi—already preparing to rush in—
It rang out with terrifying clarity.
Time seemed to freeze.
Jinpachi's body stiffened.
He slowly lowered his head—
And saw the faint green blade tip protruding from the left side of his chest.
No violent spray of blood.
Just a dark red stain spreading silently across his clothes.
The Explosive Blade slipped from his loosened grip—
And crashed heavily onto the scorched rock.
Shisui Uchiha twisted his wrist—
Pulled the blade free—
And stepped back, avoiding the spray of blood.
Jinpachi staggered.
His lips moved—
As if he wanted to say something—
But only a mouthful of thick, bubbling blood escaped.
The light in his eyes faded.
Replaced by empty confusion.
His massive body collapsed backward—
Rolling down the cliff—
Before being caught by a jagged rock.
And then—
Stillness.
The cliff fell into silence.
Only the waves continued crashing below—
Cold.
Uncaring.
Shisui slowly turned.
Moonlight outlined his young, upright figure.
The night wind stirred his black hair.
Beneath it—
Those calm, crimson eyes looked back at the hundreds of stunned Kirigakure ninja.
A flick of his wrist—
A single drop of blood traced an arc—
Vanishing into the scorched earth.
Clang.
The blade returned to its sheath.
Fluid.
Effortless.
Then—
In full view of everyone—
He bent down.
Used a cloth to pick up the fallen Explosive Blade.
Inspected it briefly—
And sealed it into a scroll.
Only then—
Did he raise his head.
The spinning Sharingan swept across the crowd.
Shock.
Fear.
Rage.
Every Kirigakure shinobi he looked at—
Felt a chill crawl up their spine.
"I am Uchiha Shisui."
"By order of the Shogun."
"Please take care of me."
Calm.
Polite.
And utterly arrogant.
Under countless furious stares—
He stepped back—
And leapt off the cliff.
The wind filled his cloak.
His figure faded—
Like ink dissolving in water—
Like a reflection disturbed.
Then—
Gone.
Only the roaring black sea remained.
The silence broke.
Heavy breathing.
Chattering teeth.
Kirigakure forces rushed to the edge—
But found nothing.
Only waves.
Only rocks.
And the corpse—
Of one of the Seven Ninja Swordsmen.
"Where is he?!"
"Jinpachi-sama!!"
From the forest behind—
Hundreds of elite shinobi emerged.
Led by Kushimaru Kuriarare.
But when he saw the frozen formation—
And smelled the faint scent of blood in the wind—
His steps slowed.
No report was needed.
He reached the cliff—
And saw the body.
The wound.
The missing blade.
One encounter.
One exchange.
Within seconds—
A feared swordsman—
Dead.
Kushimaru's pupils shrank violently.
This wasn't just strength.
This was—
Absolute control.
No large-scale destruction.
No prolonged clash.
Just—
A single, decisive strike.
'Sharingan…'
'No… not just that…'
"That movement…"
"That disappearance…"
He whispered—
Almost unconsciously.
"Uchiha… Shisui…"
"…Shunshin no Shisui."
That name—
Spread like a plague.
From this blood-soaked coast—
Through Kirigakure—
And soon—
Across the entire shinobi world.
Konoha — Hokage Office
Hiruzen Sarutobi stared at the report.
"After the three Uchiha elders…"
"The Shogun… 'Fierce-Eyed' Fugaku…"
"Yashiro… Tekka… Inabi…"
"And now…"
"'Shunshin' Shisui…"
His fingers tapped the desk slowly.
"Brilliance upon brilliance…"
"Heroes like stars…"
He removed his Hokage hat.
His voice heavy.
"Has fate truly chosen…"
"To give all of this era's brilliance…"
"To the Uchiha?"
Silence filled the room.
Smoke flickered in his pipe.
Once—
Konoha had been the same.
Now—
Enemies outside.
Turmoil within.
Even the "Professor"—
Felt the weight.
A thought surfaced—
Then settled.
Not yet.
The war must end first.
Then—
He would step down.
A sudden presence.
An ANBU appeared.
"Emergency report!"
"From Jiraiya!"
Hiruzen's heart sank.
He read.
Fourth Raikage A was attacking like a beast.
Ōnoki waited like a viper.
Even with Minato Namikaze and Jiraiya—
The line was cracking.
Reinforcements needed.
Immediately.
A thought emerged—
Then froze.
Ask the Uchiha?
He clenched his jaw.
They protected the East.
Yet weakened his authority.
In the end—
He chose the same path as always.
Let Danzō Shimura act.
And remain—
Uninvolved.
But not dependent.
He could not allow—
Another failure.
Not again.
Finally—
He stood.
The hesitation—
Gone.
In its place—
Cold resolve.
The fangs of a war-hardened Hokage.
Later — Konoha Streets
He walked alone.
Through empty streets.
Training grounds.
Memorial stone.
Autumn leaves drifted.
The village felt—
Quiet.
Yet he smiled.
As always.
Uzumaki Residence
The door opened.
Kushina Uzumaki stood there—
Red hair tied loosely.
Eyes bright.
"Third Hokage?"
"Please come in!"
The room—
Warm.
Decorated.
Wedding invitations.
Gifts.
A white dress glowing softly.
A future—
Full of hope.
Hiruzen paused.
Just slightly.
Then sat down.
"I came to talk."
Before he could continue—
Kushina spoke first.
"You're here about the front lines… right?"
She glanced at the wedding dress.
A flicker of reluctance—
Gone in an instant.
Replaced—
By resolve.
"Konoha gave me a home."
"It gave me everything."
"And now…"
"It needs strength."
She lifted her gaze.
Firm.
"I want to go to the battlefield."
"I want to fight for Konoha."
Hiruzen looked at her.
Pride.
Pain.
Guilt.
All at once.
"You understand what that means?"
"I do."
Kushina nodded firmly.
"Minato is fighting out there."
"Everyone is."
"I can't just stay here."
She clenched her fists slightly.
"The Nine-Tails inside me…"
"I can control it."
"Please let me go."