I woke up screaming, my body jolting upright as sweat soaked my sheets. My hand trembled violently, phantom pain tearing through my arm with a throbbing beat that would not end. Each pulse brought back the memory of the seal, the sensation of a blade digging into my chakra pathways, and the horror of it sent my body into uncontrollable shakes. For a moment I thought I had not woken at all, that I was still trapped in that room with the etching tool pressed to my flesh.
My eyes darted around, confusion thick in my mind. Where was I? Just hours ago I had been in the library. Or was that only a dream? The question was ripped away the instant I glanced down at my bandaged hand. Blood had already soaked through the wrappings, and the sight alone sent an icy shiver crawling down my spine. I lurched out of bed, stumbled into the bathroom, and dropped to my knees before retching into the basin.
My palm burned as though fire had been branded into it. I pressed it hard against the cold tile floor, trying to numb the agony, but the chill could not match the raw sting of carved flesh and scorched chakra. I could not tell if the pain was truly this sharp or if my mind was only magnifying it, refusing to let me escape. Shaking, drenched in sweat, I clutched my hand to the ground and tried to steady my breath.
I had no memory of how I got home. My last clear thought was of walking under the moonlight with Master Shuzo, the pain dulled by the weight of knowing it might be our final walk together. That memory now carved its own wound in me. First Daiken-sensei, and now Master Shuzo. Was I cursed to watch my teachers fade one after another? The thought burned as I stared at my trembling hand.
"You were in a very bad condition when I found you, kid."
The voice startled me, and I looked up to see Takemura Senju framed in the doorway. His expression was sharp, but worry lined his face.
"You were late," he continued. "Far too late. That foolish son of mine was about to march into the village to look for you. I knocked some sense into him and decided to wait. But when you became too late, I could not sit still." He stepped closer, his heavy hand gripping my arm and pulling me upright. "Come on. Back to bed before you collapse again."
Each step back to my room felt like dragging boulders, but Takemura's steady strength kept me moving until I collapsed onto the futon. He lowered himself beside me with a long sigh.
"I knew you trained with your team," he said slowly. "So I went to the Yamanaka compound first. Sena told me you had gone to the Academy. When I asked the guards, they told me you headed toward the Sarutobi compound. They would not say why, but I followed anyway. By the time I found you, you were wandering the street like a ghost. Your eyes were vacant, your chakra leaking in all directions, your steps unsteady. I brought you home myself. Now I must ask, what happened to you?"
I clasped my injured hand with my other, squeezing until the shaking eased and the pulsing ache dulled enough to speak. My voice was raw. "It was… one of the hardest days of my life."
I did not explain further. He did not press me. Silence filled the room, his presence steady beside me, as I stared down at my hand and tried to quiet the chaos in my head.
After a long pause, he finally said, "I will send a message to your sensei that you are injured and will not attend training for a few days. Is that acceptable?"
I nodded weakly.
"Do not move until I return. I will send the message and bring food."
I opened my mouth to argue, but he raised a hand and cut me off. "I know you do not feel like eating, but even a small portion will help you heal. If you refuse, your recovery will drag and your weakness will remain longer. Do not test me on this."
I stayed silent. I lacked the strength to argue anyway.
The house grew quiet. My eyes turned to the window, where the faint light of dawn crept over the sky. I found myself staring blankly at it, trapped between exhaustion and pain. Time slipped past without measure, hours bleeding together. At some point the afternoon sun was shining across my face, but I only realized when a soft voice broke through the silence.
"Noa… are you okay?"
I turned my head slowly. Shizuru stood at the doorway, her eyes wide, her face pale. She looked frightened, and the pain in her expression twisted something inside me. I tried to smile, but the attempt barely lifted the corners of my mouth.
The seal carved into my hand was still alive, still feeding on me. Master Shuzo had warned me. Until the seal was fully activated and stabilized, it would devour my chakra endlessly. Only after it was complete would it rest, drawing only a trickle. Right now it was like a starving beast, consuming everything I gave it. I understood now why Shuzo had wanted to wait, why only shinobi with massive chakra reserves could survive this. If I had etched a seal tied to Stormdrive, it would have killed me outright. He had chosen one of the least demanding seals, and still it felt unbearable.
"I will be fine," I rasped, though it sounded nothing like the truth.
Behind her, Genta stood with his arms crossed, his jaw tight. He did not speak, but his eyes burned with frustration.
Shizuru stepped closer, her voice careful. "Is it because of your hand injury?"
I gave a weak nod.
She let out a long sigh. "You and your secrets. I am glad it is not like the last ti..."
She froze, realizing her mistake too late.
Genta spun toward her, his eyes wide. "The last time? You mean this happened before?" His voice came out sharp and loud, edged with panic.
Before she could answer, Takemura's fist came down on his son's head with a solid crack.
"Did I not teach you to stay quiet in front of the sick? Where are your manners?"
Genta rubbed his head furiously, glaring. "You are shouting too!"
Takemura froze for a beat, then gave a fake cough, straightening his back as if nothing had happened. The exchange was so absurd I let out a weak chuckle despite the pain. Shizuru tried to smile too, but concern kept her face tight.
The mood shifted when one of the compound guards appeared at the door. He bowed slightly. "Lord Takemura. The boy's sensei and his two teammates have come to see him."
Takemura's jaw tightened. "Let the Yamanaka girl in, but the other two must wait until he recovers."
My chest tightened. I forced the words out. "Takemura-san… please allow them in."
He looked at me sharply. "Kid, you may see them as teammates, but to me they are strangers. I do not trust the Uchiha in this compound."
I held his gaze through the haze of pain. "I understand. But my sensei's intentions are good. If there are any problems, I will take responsibility."
My words were heavy, and the effort alone made me tremble, but he seemed moved. After a long moment, he sighed. "Very well. Let them in. But keep your eyes down and your chakra flowing. If you sense anything strange, break it immediately."
The guard bowed again and left. Tension settled into the air, heavy and oppressive. Takemura's chakra flared, pressing against the walls as if the house itself strained to contain it. His stance was sharp, his presence battle-ready. He was not taking chances.
The faint sound of footsteps reached me from the front hall, steady and deliberate. My team had arrived. Takemura's strides were heavy as he left my room. I could hear the muted groan of the old wood beneath him, as if even the floor could barely withstand the pressure rolling off his body.
By the time the front door slid open, he was there waiting. His voice rang out, harsher than I had ever heard it. "Do not activate your Sharingan. I will be watching your chakra, and if I sense even the slightest change, I will strike without hesitation. Do I make myself clear?"
Kaen's irritated voice shot back immediately. "Who are you to..."
He stopped mid-sentence, silenced by a calm but commanding reply.
"He will follow those rules. You have my word, Takemura-dono."
It was Shisui. His tone was respectful, but the weight behind it carried authority that could not be ignored.
I heard Takemura's low grunt of annoyance, but he did not argue further. The footsteps drew closer, and I braced myself as the tension in the house climbed toward its peak.