Chapter 85: The Seed Takes Root
"It's good that you understand," Akira's spiritual voice echoed, carrying a tone of grim reality. "Our clan's position is precarious. The trust from the village leadership has always been thin. On the night of the Nine-Tails, their orders were clear—to relegate us to evacuating civilians, kept away from the heart of the battle. That was no accident. It was a statement of their distrust."
"I remember," Shisui's thought-voice was soft, sobered. "It was fortunate that Lord Fugaku acted decisively that day and led the clan to the battlefield regardless. If he had obeyed… our situation would be far more difficult now."
"Exactly," Akira affirmed. "Alright, I've said what needed to be said. I must go and prepare. Be ready, Shisui. The transplant's success is not guaranteed. There is always a risk."
Shisui's spiritual form gave a resolute nod. "I understand. I am prepared for failure. And… thank you, Senior Akira."
The connection severed. In the dim, quiet medical room of Shentian Biologics, Uchiha Akira's eyes blinked open. His physical body had remained perfectly still, seated in a chair beside Shisui's bed. Standing guard a few feet away was Uchiha Fugaku, his posture tense, his own Sharingan passively active to monitor any chakra fluctuation in the room.
One of the critical weaknesses of the Spiritual Transformation Technique was the vulnerable, inert body left behind. History offered a stark lesson: Kato Dan, the technique's creator, had been assassinated when his defenseless physical form was discovered. Fugaku was taking no such chances.
Seeing Akira's eyes focus, Fugaku immediately stepped closer, his voice a low murmur. "Well? What is his state? What did he say?"
Akira allowed a small, tired smile. "It's settled. Shisui has given his word to maintain absolute secrecy."
Fugaku's stern expression softened minutely, but curiosity knit his brows. "How did you manage that? From everything I know of Shisui, his loyalty to the village's ideals is… uncompromising."
"His loyalty to the clan is just as deep," Akira replied, rising from the chair and stretching slightly. "They are not separate things in his heart; he believes the clan's prosperity is part of the village's strength." He then gave Fugaku a concise summary of the spiritual conversation, focusing on the narrative they had constructed: the cells as originating from a strange, white humanoid linked to "Madara," and the grave danger of the clan being suspected if Wood Release manifested.
The primary goal was alignment. They could not have Shisui and Fugaku operating on different stories later.
After listening, Fugaku gave a slow, approving nod. "Not telling him the full truth was wise. Guiding him to believe the source is that impostor Madara is a clean solution. It protects the truth and protects him from a more difficult choice." He looked down at Shisui's pallid, still form on the bed, the steady beep of the life-support monitors the only sound. "Then let us begin. The sooner, the better."
Akira agreed. From a sealed storage scroll, he produced a small, cylindrical injector. Inside, a vibrant green fluid shimmered—the refined, cultivated cellular solution derived from the perfect Hashirama clone. This was the culmination of Yakushi Nono's work.
With practiced, sterile precision, Akira located a major chakra point near Shisui's heart. He took a breath, then pressed the injector to the skin. There was a soft hiss as the mechanism engaged, delivering the potent solution directly into Shisui's bloodstream.
The moment the injection was complete, both Akira and Fugaku activated their Sharingan fully. The world sharpened into hues of red and black, their vision penetrating Shisui's skin to track the flow of chakra and cellular activity.
The reaction was immediate.
The area around the injection site lost its color, turning a sickly, blotchy white. This pallor wasn't static; it began to spread outward like a stain across cloth, crawling over Shisui's chest and toward his shoulders.
"The erosion is aggressive," Fugaku muttered, his voice tight. "Senju Hashirama's cells… their vitality is a consuming force. They're overwhelming his own."
"Is it failing?" Akira asked, his own focus razor-sharp, watching for any sign of systemic collapse.
At that moment, Shisui's eyes—previously closed and sunken—snapped open. A pair of three-tomoe Sharingan glimmered weakly in their sockets, but the gaze was empty, unseeing. It was a purely biological stress response, not conscious awakening.
And as those eyes opened, the spread of the sickly white stain halted. The advance was checked. Then, slowly, the discoloration began to recede, fading away as Shisui's natural skin tone returned, wave by wave.
A deep, guttural groan tore from Shisui's throat. His body arched off the bed, muscles seizing as a tremor of raw agony wracked him. The unconscious sound was one of profound suffering, the pain of his very cells being rewritten. It lasted for half a minute before subsiding as suddenly as it began. Shisui slumped back onto the bed, now still, but his breathing was no longer the shallow whisper of before. It was deeper, more rhythmic.
Most importantly, to the Sharingan's gaze, a faint glow of chakra had ignited within his chakra network. It was weak but steady, a pilot light rekindled.
"He's refining chakra subconsciously," Akira observed, a note of relief in his voice. "His mind is rallying. The integration has begun."
"It appears successful," Fugaku whispered, not daring to hope fully. "The vitality is restoring itself. Look at his complexion."
It was true. The deathly, translucent pallor that had clung to Shisui for months was receding, replaced by the healthy, warm tone of living flesh. The transformation was visible even without the Sharingan. His breathing steadied into the strong, even rhythm of a deep sleep, not a coma.
They waited in vigilant silence for nearly an hour, the medical seals on the ceiling humming softly. Then, without warning, Uchiha Shisui drew a sharp breath and sat upright.
He blinked, his gaze sweeping the unfamiliar room with confusion. It took several seconds for his eyes to clear, for memory and recognition to sync with his renewed senses. He saw Fugaku and Akira watching him, their expressions a mix of caution and expectation.
A wave of clarity, followed by embarrassment, washed over his face. "Lord Fugaku. Senior Akira. I… I have caused the clan, and you, a great deal of trouble. Thank you."
Fugaku waved the apology aside, his focus entirely on the result. "That is of no consequence. What matters is your condition. Assess yourself. Carefully. Report any anomaly, any strange sensation."
Shisui nodded, understanding the gravity. He closed his eyes, his face a mask of concentration as he turned his senses inward, probing the new landscape of his own body.
Akira and Fugaku waited, the silence stretching.
After a long minute, Shisui's eyes opened. The moment they did, he froze, his own reflection perhaps visible in the dark glass of a monitor. A look of pure, stunned disbelief settled on his features.
Seeing his expression, Fugaku's heart clenched. "What is it? What's wrong?"
"My… my eyesight," Shisui breathed, his voice filled with awe. He looked directly at Fugaku, his gaze sharp and clear. "Before, after forcing the Susano'o against Nagato, my vision was fading. It was like looking through a thickening fog. It was nearly gone. But now… it's clear. It's been restored."
"Are you certain?" Fugaku asked, the question bursting from him. This was a possibility they had theorized but never dared to prioritize over simple survival.
Shisui blinked rapidly, his eyes tracking swiftly across the room, focusing on minute details. He nodded, a slow, incredulous smile touching his lips. "It's true. The clarity is perfect. Better than it was before the battle, even."
A brilliant, unrestrained smile broke across Fugaku's normally stoic face. This was monumental. This changed everything. If transplanting Hashirama cells could not only restore vitality but reverse the blindness brought on by Mangekyō overuse… it was a revelation. It was a path to sustained power without the curse of darkness. A shadow of the Eternal Mangekyō's benefit, achieved through different means.
'From this day,' Fugaku thought, elation surging within him, 'the climb of the Uchiha truly begins. No internal weakness will hold us back.'
"Are there other changes?" Akira interjected, his tone clinical, pulling the focus back to full assessment.
"My chakra reserves… they've increased dramatically," Shisui reported, flexing a hand and watching a faint aura of blue energy flicker around it. "Not just the volume, but the quality feels denser, more potent." He activated his Sharingan then, the three tomoe spinning with a vibrant, crimson intensity they hadn't seen in months. "My visual prowess… the pupil power is stronger. I can feel it. If I were to summon Susano'o now, I believe it would be… different. More stable. Perhaps even a new form."
He clenched his fist, the newfound strength in the gesture obvious. A shadow of the old battle passed behind his eyes. "If I faced Nagato now… I wouldn't be so helpless. I wouldn't have to sacrifice everything just to buy a few moments."
The bitterness of past defeat was there, but it was now fused with the hard, bright edge of newfound power and determination.
(End of Chapter)
✨If you're enjoying this story, consider supporting me on Patreon —
Patreon.com/TofuChan
Where you can read Extra Advance Chaters
Bonus Chapter For Every 100 Power Stones
Lets hit the goal of 300 Patreon Members now for 5 Extra Chapters 💕