The messenger came and went quickly. Uchiha Gin closed the door, pondering his clan leader cousin's intentions.
"Izuna, why would the Clan Leader send me to the dungeon?" he asked, unable to fathom Tajima's motives, turning to Uchiha Izuna, who was glaring at Senju Itama.
"Maybe he's worried about you going out," Izuna said, stroking his chin. "Your strength is, well…"
His hesitant words aligned with Uchiha Gin's suspicions.
From the original owner's memories, after a tragic childhood incident, his strength had stagnated—whether from a broken spirit or limited talent. Due to his weakness, Uchiha Tajima assigned him simple clan tasks, like guarding the leader's building or patrolling, never straying far. This mission was an exception, forced by the original owner's desperate plea.
"Is it really just protection? Hope I'm overthinking," Uchiha Gin mused.
Rested, Izuna, noting the late hour, made a face at Itama and stood to leave.
Uchiha Gin saw him out. At the door, Izuna turned, voice awkward. "Thanks. The food was good."
He fled without looking back.
"Are all Uchiha tsunderes?" Uchiha Gin wondered, scratching his curly hair.
Back inside, Itama stiffened, eyes darting, and demanded, "What's your game?"
"Kid, you're safe for now, but only with me," Uchiha Gin said curtly. "Stay put until the war heats up."
Few knew Itama's identity, and Tajima likely wouldn't broadcast it. Entrusting Itama to him suggested the war wasn't at its peak. But when the final battle loomed, Itama's fate would be uncertain.
The system's mission gave Uchiha Gin a headache. An Uchiha protecting a Senju? It was like playing a double agent.
"You sleep in the bedroom," he told the flustered Itama, assigning him the only bedroom. Rummaging through the closet, he pulled out a stack of clothes. "These were mine as a kid. They should fit."
He handed them to Itama, whose own clothes were tattered from the journey. "I'm resting. Try them on tomorrow."
Exhausted from the day's travel and Izuna's antics, Uchiha Gin ignored Itama's stunned expression, collapsing onto the living room sofa and falling asleep.
Itama, clutching the clothes, hesitated before entering the bedroom. Soon, snores echoed.
But Uchiha Gin, thought to be asleep, opened his eyes. Confirming Itama's snores, he slipped outside silently.
The night was pitch-black, save for faint torchlight from distant watchtowers. Circling his house, he chose a blind spot at the rear, building a crude fence with firewood.
Dusting his hands, he nodded at his makeshift "masterpiece." Given the time, it'd do.
Sitting cross-legged within the fenced area, he closed his eyes, feigning sleep.
After some time, the air grew heavy—a familiar sign of the skill refresh. Having experienced it twice, Uchiha Gin snapped open his crimson Sharingan, scanning the dark with enhanced vision. Nothing.
As he frowned, wondering what was coming, a hand landed on his shoulder.
A chill ran through him, hairs standing on end. The hand didn't move. Stiffly, he glanced at it: pale, with long fingers and prominent knuckles. But the black nail polish and a gemmed ring on the ring finger, engraved with a familiar symbol, froze his blood.
He didn't need to see the "Vermilion" character to know who it was.
Knowing he was outmatched, Uchiha Gin refused to go down without a fight. He secretly channeled chakra to his arms.
Strange Strength, activate!
With a furious elbow strike, the figure behind him dissolved into a flock of crows, reforming in the distance as a man in a black cloak with red clouds.
Though aware of his fate, Uchiha Gin, fueled by a desire to punch this "dutiful son," charged with Strange Strength, determined to land a hit even if it meant enduring Tsukuyomi.
Oddly, Uchiha Itachi only activated his right Mangekyo Sharingan. A tear of blood fell, but Uchiha Gin wasn't pulled into an illusion.
In his confusion, an excruciating burning seared his hands, as if his soul were aflame.
Looking down, he saw black flames on his fists. Small but intensely painful, they made him want to sever his hands.
Amaterasu. Uchiha Itachi's right Mangekyo ability, black flames said to burn anything.
Where's the damn Tsukuyomi? Uchiha Gin writhed in agony, with no way to counter Amaterasu. The manga's Fire Sealing Method, an Uzumaki technique designed against Uchiha, was beyond him.
Do I have to cut my arm off like the Fourth Raikage?
As the flames drove him to delirium, a cool sensation spread through his right hand.
Squinting, he saw faint blue light on his right hand's back, where Amaterasu burned. A swirling Uzumaki mark appeared, spinning faintly, releasing obscure runes.
The black flames recoiled from the runes, shrinking into a ball, then were fully enveloped and absorbed into the Uzumaki mark.
His right hand was free, and the mark dimmed, flickering before vanishing.
But the left hand's flames grew fiercer, nearing his body. Uchiha Gin drew his Flying Thunder God kunai, preparing to sever his hand. Long pain's worse than short. It'll heal after the skill ends.
Meanwhile, in a cramped, dark space, a shadowy figure opened crimson eyes. Sensing a stir in their eyes, the figure grew anxious. After a shudder, gasping, their eyes flashed a bewitching pattern.
As Uchiha Gin braced to lose "Little Left," his left hand glowed rosy red, revealing a mark unlike the Uzumaki's.
Unfamiliar from the original owner's memories, it felt oddly intimate: three boomerang-like swallows circling a red dot.
The raging Amaterasu tamed under the mark, gradually fading into a faint red glow, then vanishing.
"Daily backyard skill refresh: [Amaterasu]. Acquired Amaterasu 1…"
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