Ryuga stood amidst the lingering shadows, watching the stillness that followed the chaos of battle. Before him lay Shisui Uchiha, surrounded by the crimson pool of his own blood. Shisui's breathing had become shallow, labored, each breath drawing closer to his final. Ryuga had known of this day—of Shisui's inevitable fate—yet now that it was unfolding before him, an unexpected sensation rose within.
"Am I… sad because Shisui is dying?" Ryuga wondered, feeling strangely unsettled by his own detachment. "But… my heart doesn't ache. Or am I happy? …But I'm not smiling." He looked at Shisui's motionless form, feeling the same calmness he always did, but this time, something inexplicable lurked beneath. It was as if his mind and heart were split—caught between emotion and emptiness.
Seeking clarity, he reached out to Wiz. "Wiz, am I really experiencing strong emotions?" he asked, his voice silent in the physical world but loud in his mind.
'ANSWER: AFFIRMATIVE,'
Wiz responded, confirming the presence of these elusive emotions. Yet, the words only deepened Ryuga's confusion. If these emotions were real, why couldn't he feel them? His body remained as steady as ever, his heartbeat regular, his breaths calm.
"Wiz… are you lying to me?" he demanded, unsure of himself in a way he never had been before. For the first time, he felt a surge of doubt—directed not just at Wiz, but at his own perception. In a subconscious response, his Sharingan activated, drawing on his mana as if hoping enhanced vision might clarify the mystery in his heart.
'…NEGATIVE.'
Wiz's answer came with an unusual pause, a momentary silence that had never happened before. But Ryuga, consumed by his thoughts, didn't notice. This uncertainty gnawed at him, pushing him to pursue the answer he sought. "Then tell me, Wiz—what emotion am I experiencing that's so powerful it awakened my Mangekyo Sharingan?" The calmness in his voice belied the intensity of his need to understand.
After a brief pause, Wiz finally replied.
'....CANNOT COMPREHEND.'
This answer landed like a blow. Ryuga had always relied on Wiz's knowledge, trusting her insight to bridge the gap between himself and the unknown. But now, for the first time, she could not provide the answer. A faint disappointment sparked within him, a subtle betrayal of the trust he had placed in her capabilities.
Deciding to find his own answers, Ryuga let himself fall out of thought acceleration. He moved closer to Shisui, drawn to the source of this elusive emotion. Shisui, a mentor, a friend, a part of the life Ryuga had begun to build—why did his death pull at Ryuga so strongly? The answer lay somewhere within the man himself, and Ryuga was determined to uncover it.
Shisui lay on the forest ground, his blood staining the earth around him as his life slowly faded. His mind drifted in and out of consciousness, memories flashing before him like remnants of a half-forgotten dream. Faces, voices, laughter—all those he held close came to him in his final moments: Itachi, Sasuke, and the Uchiha clan he had dedicated himself to protecting.
A pang of regret stirred as he thought of the tasks he was leaving behind, the burdens he was shifting to Itachi. I'm sorry, Itachi. I leave it all to you now, he thought. His heart was heavy with the knowledge that he could not stand by his friend and brother in the trials to come.
And then, Ryuga came to mind—the young boy who had followed him with quiet fascination, always asking him to show new jutsu and teach techniques. Shisui had never anticipated how deeply he would come to care for the boy. Watching Itachi with Sasuke had sometimes sparked a quiet longing in him for a bond like that with a sibling. When Ryuga had joined their group, eager to learn, Shisui had found a taste of that brotherhood.
Ryuga… he thought, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he remembered the boy's resistance to accepting gifts, despite being an orphan with little means. Shisui would offer him weapons and tools, only to have Ryuga politely decline, requesting only a good meal instead.
As his vision dimmed, he became aware of a shadowed figure descending, a silhouette against the fading sky. Through blurred sight, he recognized Ryuga standing above him.
Ryuga landed beside Shisui, observing the battered man before him. Shisui's wide eyes held both recognition and disbelief, but even now, on the brink of death, his immediate concern was Ryuga's safety.
"Wh…what are you doing here, Ryuga? This place is dangerous…leave, now," Shisui murmured, each word strained and breathless. He ignored his own imminent death, his mind fixated only on Ryuga's well-being.
Ryuga looked at Shisui, his face neutral as ever. "I wanted to be here for your final moments. To see you off," he replied with calm sincerity, as though stating a simple fact. Ryuga had indeed come only to watch Shisui's last moments. He wasn't here out of any obligation or desperation, but rather a need to be present, to acknowledge the end of a man who had shared his knowledge and strength with him.
Yet beneath this intent lay a stronger, inexplicable feeling—one that had stirred within him since the moment he learned of Shisui's fate. He hadn't come to intervene or to change anything, only to observe… but this feeling demanded his attention, and he hoped Shisui could help him understand.
As Shisui processed Ryuga's words, a flash of confusion crossed his face. Had Ryuga known? His thoughts mirrored in his expression, and Ryuga, sensing this, clarified.
"Yes. I knew you would die here, Shisui. I came to be with you at the end. Originally, I didn't plan on speaking to you, but… I have questions." Ryuga's face was blank, but a subtle intensity flickered in his eyes. This curiosity was unlike anything he had felt before.
A faint, bittersweet smile touched Shisui's lips as he looked at Ryuga. "Are you… are you here to ask why you awakened your Mangekyo Sharingan?" he asked. "I always knew you were hiding something… but I didn't think you were part of the Uchiha clan. I'm a little sad you never told me. We could've been family."
Ryuga shook his head slowly. "No, Shisui. I'm not Uchiha. I'm someone who shouldn't even exist. I never lied to you. And… I'm not asking you about my Sharingan."
Ryuga paused, choosing his words carefully. "I want to know what I'm feeling, Shisui," he said, his tone calm yet searching. "Something awakened my Mangekyo, but I don't feel sad. My heart doesn't hurt. And I'm not happy, because I'm not smiling. What is it that I'm feeling so strongly?"
A quiet laugh escaped Shisui's lips, soft but genuine, despite the weak state of his body. Ryuga watched, puzzled by this reaction. Shisui wasn't mocking him; he was genuinely, deeply content. Ryuga chose to remain silent, watching and waiting for his answer.
"I'm glad you're feeling it, whatever it is, Ryuga," Shisui began softly. "You've always laughed with us, trained with us, shown emotion. But your eyes… they were always empty, like you were faking it. I worried that maybe I was the only one who saw you as my brother."
Ryuga's eyes flickered as he absorbed Shisui's words, the weight of them settling in his mind. He hadn't realized the extent of Shisui's perception, nor the impact his own presence had on Shisui's life. The silence between them lingered, yet Ryuga felt an unexpected warmth.
"What you're feeling now, Ryuga, is loss," Shisui continued, his gaze softening. "It's not sadness, or even happiness. It's something deeper… losing someone close. It doesn't have to be painful or joyful… it can be about acceptance, even satisfaction."
Ryuga listened, his expression unreadable. Yet Shisui's words resonated with a clarity he hadn't expected. His silence was broken only by one final question. "But I'm not sad about your death. So why do I feel anything at all?"
Shisui's fading strength surfaced as he asked, "Then tell me… Why didn't you warn me if you knew I'd die?" He looked at Ryuga with a piercing, knowing gaze. "Do you regret that?"
Without hesitation, Ryuga replied, "No, I don't regret it. I didn't warn you because this was your path to choose. Our choices shape us, and I didn't want to take that from you."
A deep sense of satisfaction filled Shisui's expression, a warmth that defied the chill of his final moments. "You see? You're not sad because you respected my choice. And you're not happy because this isn't a time for joy—it's about loss and respect. You honored my life, my choice."
A peace settled into Shisui's gaze, as if all his questions and fears had been answered. He looked at Ryuga with a warmth reserved for family. "Thank you, Ryuga… for letting me be myself, for being here." He exhaled softly, his voice faint. "Now you understand what loss is… and I'm glad you felt it, my little brother."