Konoha: The Thirty-Year-Old Uchiha Can’t Be Bothered

That man came as quickly as he left. Gin closed the door, his heart still unsettled, pondering what his uncle, the clan head, was planning.

"Izuna, little cousin, why do you think the clan head is sending me to work in the dungeon?"

Unable to guess at the old fox's intentions, Gin turned to ask Izuna, who was still engaged in a staring contest with Itama.

"Maybe he's afraid you'll run off."

Izuna thought for a moment, rubbing his chin.

"Because your strength is… you know…"

Seeing his little cousin's words trail off awkwardly, Gin realized this matched what he himself suspected.

From the original host's memories, ever since that tragic incident in childhood, his strength had stagnated. Whether his resolve had shattered or his talent was just lacking, no one could say.

In any case, because of his mediocre abilities, Tajima had always assigned him to easy posts — guarding the clan hall, patrols, jobs that never left the compound. This last mission outside had only been given to him because the original host had threatened his life over it.

"Is it really just a form of protection? … I hope I'm just overthinking it."

Gin thought silently to himself.

Having rested enough, Izuna stood up lazily, shot a ghost-face at Itama, and bid farewell.

Gin walked him to the door. Before leaving, Izuna suddenly turned his face away, voice awkward as he muttered:

"…Thanks. The food was really good."

And then he bolted without another word.

"Is every Uchiha a tsundere or something?"

Gin rubbed his curly hair with a wry smile.

He turned back inside, where Itama immediately stiffened at attention, eyes darting nervously as he barked:

"What exactly are you planning?"

"Little brat, for now you're safe — but only here, with me."

Gin didn't bother to explain much.

"In short, until the war breaks out, you'd better stay put and behave."

Itama's identity wasn't widely known yet. It seemed Tajima wasn't broadcasting it either.

Since the old man entrusted the kid to him, it meant the war hadn't yet reached its fever pitch. When the decisive battle came, though… who knew what fate awaited the boy?

Thinking of that damn system's task made Gin's head ache again. Asking an Uchiha to protect a Senju — wasn't this just a spy mission straight out of hell?

"From tonight, you sleep in the bedroom."

Gin glanced at the flustered boy and handed the house's one bedroom over to him. Then he rummaged through the closet and came out holding a stack of clothes.

"These are from when I was little. They should fit you."

He shoved the clothes at Itama, who still wore his ragged outfit from the road.

"I'm going to rest. Try them on yourself tomorrow."

After a day of travel and his little duel with Izuna, Gin was worn out. Without another word, he lay down on the couch and fell asleep.

Itama hesitated for a long moment, staring at the clothes, before shuffling into the bedroom. Soon after, his snores drifted out.

But Gin wasn't actually asleep. After hearing the boy's breathing settle into a steady rhythm, he silently opened his eyes, got up, and slipped outside without a sound.

By now, the night was pitch black, broken only by the occasional torchlight atop the watchtowers. Gin circled his house, finally choosing a dead corner behind it. He quickly built a simple wooden enclosure from some firewood, clapped the dust from his hands, and sat cross-legged inside.

Not long after, he felt the air around him grow heavy — a familiar sign by now: the system was about to refresh his daily skill.

He opened his Sharingan wide and scanned the dark. Thanks to its enhanced vision, he could see everything clearly, but there was nothing there.

Just as he frowned, a pale hand suddenly rested on his shoulder.

A chill ran through Gin's entire body. His hairs stood on end as he stiffly turned his head to see the hand — long, bony fingers, pale skin, black nail polish, and a gemstone-studded ring with the character "朱" (vermilion).

He didn't even need to see the full face to guess who it was.

Knowing he was no match, but unwilling to sit and wait for death, Gin silently gathered chakra into his arms.

怪力 (super strength), activate!

With a roar, he smashed his elbow backward — and the figure behind him scattered into a flock of crows, then reformed at a distance into a man in black with a red cloud cloak.

Even knowing what was coming, Gin still wanted nothing more than to punch that prodigal son of the clan square in the face.

Activating his Sharingan fully, Gin lunged at Itachi without hesitation. Even if he was caught in tsukuyomi (moon reading), at least he'd land one hit.

Oddly enough, though, Itachi didn't cast tsukuyomi. Instead, his right Mangekyō eye bled as he opened it — and suddenly, searing pain flared through Gin's hands.

Looking down, he saw black flames had erupted on his fists, burning like they were devouring his very soul.

Amaterasu — Itachi's right-eye Mangekyō power, the black flames said to consume everything.

Goddammit, Gin cursed to himself as he rolled on the ground in agony.

He didn't know the seal of suppression technique — that was a Uzumaki creation, meant to counter Uchiha fire, and he hadn't learned it.

Was he really going to have to cut off his own arms like the Fourth Raikage?

As the flames began to creep up toward his body, he gritted his teeth and prepared to sever his left hand. But suddenly, a cool sensation spread through his right hand.

Glancing down, he saw the Uzumaki seal on his right hand glow faintly blue, spinning as strange characters spiraled out of it.

The black flames recoiled as if they'd met their nemesis, curled up into a ball, and were slowly drawn into the seal.

His right hand was saved — but the left was still burning.

Gritting his teeth, Gin grabbed his hiraishin kunai (flying thunder god kunai) and prepared to cut his own hand clean off.

At that exact moment, somewhere in a dark, cramped space, a shadow opened its red eyes. Feeling something stir in his eyes, the figure shuddered and gasped, and a strange, demonic pattern flashed across his Sharingan.

Just as Gin was about to say goodbye to his left hand, a rosy red glow flared across his left hand, and another seal appeared — not one he recognized from the original host's memory.

Yet somehow his body didn't reject it. On the contrary, it felt oddly familiar, even intimate.

The mark was a three-pronged design, with curved shapes circling a central red dot.

The wild black flames calmed, became docile, and finally faded into faint red light before disappearing completely.

Backyard daily refresh random skill: [Amaterasu] acquired — Amaterasu

(End of Chapter)

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