Naruto: I'm Really Not an Evil Uchiha!

She scrambled off the bed in a flash, then pushed against the stone door with all her might. Despite straining for what felt like an eternity, it wouldn't budge.

Only after expending nearly ninety percent of her chakra did the door finally creak open a third of the way.

Guren poked her head out, catching sight of a scene that left her utterly baffled.

In the shadows stood Lord Shimizu, his expression calm and composed, yet his gaze carried a piercing scrutiny as he looked down at Suzumebachi, who knelt before him.

"This time, no Curse Seal. Try it in your original state," Shimizu said coolly.

Suzumebachi's eyes were tightly shut, her brow slightly furrowed. Faint black runes occasionally flickered across her skin, only to be swiftly suppressed.

Shimizu slowly raised the candle in his hand, its flame flickering in the dim space.

He brought the candle closer, testing Suzumebachi's willpower, forcing her to maintain clarity and endure.

This was one of the ninja training methods.

One invented by Shimizu himself.

The subtle heat of the flame made Suzumebachi's brow crease even more.

Little Guren watched for a while but couldn't make sense of it.

All she could think was that the candle must be scalding.

It had to be some unique ninja punishment—only such pain could make a ninja learn from their mistakes.

At that moment, Little Guren resolved never to make a mistake herself.

…

Hiss!

Suddenly, Suzumebachi involuntarily activated her Curse Seal, her body trembling uncontrollably.

…

This sight left Little Guren utterly stunned.

Yet the curiosity in her eyes grew even brighter. She had to become a true ninja as soon as possible.

Understanding the ways of ninja was absolutely essential.

In a dark, secluded cave somewhere else.

The massive Gedo Statue loomed within the cavern's walls, its form gaunt and withered, its gaping mouth indistinguishable between a scream or a wail of agony.

Countless gnarled, vine-like branches extended from the Gedo Statue, twisting and coiling along the cave walls, adorned with clusters of white, humanoid flesh.

Uchiha Madara sat with his eyes closed, connected to several tubes behind him, perched on a wooden seat woven from the statue's branches. He appeared to be in a light slumber, a scythe propped at his feet.

"Lord Madara, according to the intel from Guruguru, Iwagakure has already begun to move," White Zetsu reported, standing before Uchiha Madara with only one arm.

"Is that so?" a frail, aged voice replied, like that of an old man teetering on the edge of life.

Uchiha Madara opened his eyes, a faint expression crossing his weathered face.

"I won't tolerate failure in this plan. Keep monitoring its execution."

He coldly regarded the White Zetsu before him, created by injecting Hashirama's living cells into the Gedo Statue.

These artificial beings had become his eyes, forming a vast underground intelligence network. No whisper or stir in the ninja world escaped his grasp.

"Yes, Lord Madara," White Zetsu said respectfully.

As one of the earlier White Zetsu, he held a deeper reverence for Uchiha Madara's power than the others.

If Uchiha Madara so desired, his immense power could overturn the world at any moment.

"But, Lord Madara, why not choose Uchiha Shimizu? His potential seems far greater than Uchiha Obito's," White Zetsu asked, puzzled.

If they were searching for a suitable successor, why not pick the more talented Uchiha Shimizu?

Wouldn't that better serve Lord Madara's plans?

"No. Someone like you could never comprehend the true power of the Uchiha… That power requires the strength of the heart," Uchiha Madara said faintly.

Shimizu had always been in his sights—or rather, every Uchiha clansman had grown up under his watchful eye.

He was scouting for the perfect successor, someone capable of fulfilling the Eye of the Moon Plan and perfectly reviving him.

From the moment Uchiha Shimizu began to display his talents, his significance had grown.

Madara had several promising candidates—Uchiha Shimizu and Uchiha Obito among them.

But now, he had settled on Obito.

"The strength of the heart? Lord Madara, didn't you once say that power isn't a phenomenon born from mere physical matter?" White Zetsu recalled.

Uchiha Madara had been with them for decades, occasionally sharing words of wisdom, including that very maxim.

"Correct. But to wield that power is impossible for most. The Uchiha, however, can evolve their eyes through their emotions," Madara said, his three-tomoe Sharingan spinning slowly.

When he first learned that Uchiha Shimizu had awakened his three-tomoe Sharingan, Madara had briefly thought he'd found the ideal candidate.

But during the Ninja World War, as one comrade after another fell around Uchiha Shimizu—information gleaned through his underground White Zetsu network—Madara concluded that Shimizu's potential might be capped at the three-tomoe.

His heart wasn't pure enough.

To awaken the Mangekyo Sharingan and harness the true divine power of the Uchiha, one's heart had to reach the pinnacle of emotion, producing a special chakra in the brain.

"Uchiha Obito hasn't awakened his Sharingan yet, but he's far kinder and more compassionate than Uchiha Shimizu. Only by stirring the darkness in such a person's heart can one hope to wield the Uchiha's power," Madara's voice grew quieter.

He was too old. The generation that had founded Konohagakure alongside Senju Hashirama had already passed into the Pure Land.

Only he, a lingering ghost of the Uchiha, still wandered the mortal world.

"Lord Madara?" White Zetsu called softly, noticing Madara slipping into slumber. He cautiously retreated.

Though Madara leaned on a cane to walk and tired after a few words, the moment he tapped into the Gedo Statue's power, he could still unleash a fraction of his former glory.

"Something like that actually happened?" Shizune said, stunned. She hadn't realized the war had escalated to this point, affecting even villages so close by.

"The shadow of war has loomed too long. We're nothing but specks of dust in its wake," Shimizu said, his voice low.

"There's no helping it."

Seeing the sorrow on Shimizu's face, Shizune tried to comfort him, urging him not to dwell on it.

"By the way, Shizune, your master is Lady Tsunade, right? Could you ask her about these for me when you have time?" Shimizu pulled out a notebook filled with questions about medical ninjutsu.

"Of course, I'll ask Lady Tsunade," Shizune replied, accepting the notebook solemnly without hesitation.

Shimizu had gone out of his way to help that village, so she felt obliged to return the favor.

Lady Tsunade would surely be pleased to see a junior like Shimizu, wouldn't she?

Shizune flipped through the notebook briefly. The questions were profoundly complex—some she could barely answer, while most were utterly inscrutable.

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