The backlash from repelling Tsukuyomi took an immediate physical toll. Shin leapt across Konoha's rooftops with blurred vision and the taste of iron in his mouth. Blood streamed from his nose, staining the collar of his ANBU uniform. He ignored the directive to report to the hospital; he didn't want to leave medical traces that Danzō's Root could track. He needed a safe place—and there was only one.
Shin collapsed in the inner courtyard of the Yamanaka Clan. The impact against the wood echoed dully. He tried to rise, but his senses were short-circuiting.
Ino wasn't asleep. She sat on the veranda, restless, clutching the metal pendant against her chest. When she saw the gray figure fallen under the moonlight, she ran. It was the first time she had seen him like that. Shin always returned pristine, carrying only the scent of missions—never broken.
— Shin! — She dropped to her knees beside him, her hands hesitating before touching the blood on his face. — What happened? You never get hurt...
— Mental overexertion — he murmured, voice hoarse. — I need silence, Ino.
With a strength she didn't know she had, Ino helped him into her training room. She brought warm water and clean cloths. In silence, she began to clean his face. There was no drama like at the Academy—only practical urgency.
As she tended to him, Shin kept his eyes closed, sensing her chakra. Ino tried to use what little she knew of medical ninjutsu to stabilize his pulse. In that contact, without telepathy or advanced techniques, Shin realized something obvious. The care she showed, the way she held his hand to keep him focused—it wasn't just clan duty.
She loved him.
And it wasn't the shallow affection she pretended to feel for the boys at the Academy. It was a quiet devotion that accepted him even covered in blood.
— Don't leave without telling me anymore — she said softly but firmly, finishing the bandage over his brow. — I don't like waiting without knowing if you'll come back.
Shin opened his eyes and looked at her.
— I always come back, Ino.
The next morning, Shin stood in Hiruzen's office. Pale, but rigid in posture. Nara and Eagle stood at his side, acting more like personal guards than teammates.
— You ignored the hospital — Hiruzen said, observing the improvised bandages on the boy's face.
— Hospitals leave records. State secrets don't — Shin replied. — Itachi's Tsukuyomi was repelled. He now knows he can't blindly trust the illusions fed by Danzō—or even his own clan.
Hiruzen exhaled a plume of smoke, glancing at Nara and Eagle. They seemed unusually protective of the boy.
— And the warning? — the Hokage asked.
— Delivered. If he chooses massacre, he'll have to go through me first — Shin stated. — Itachi is a genius, but he plays by others' rules. I made my own.
Nara stepped forward, placing a hand on Shin's shoulder.
— We'll watch over him, sir. The unit is ready for any movement from the Uchiha or the Root.
Hiruzen nodded. The board was set. Shin had proven that the Yamanaka mind could counter the Mangekyō—but the cost had been high. The game now was one of waiting.