Naruto: Mixed Heritage(Rewrite)

Daichi's lips twitched, his amusement barely concealed. "I'll ask again," he said, his tone now softer, yet far more chilling. "Do you have a Mangekyo Sharingan?"

Renjiro hesitated, and in that pause, Daichi's sharp gaze hardened. Slowly, almost lazily, Daichi leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. "I've suspected for some time, you know," he began, his voice as smooth as silk. "The way you've sought information about the Mangekyo, asking questions no ordinary shinobi would dare. Did you really think that wouldn't reach my ears?"

Renjiro's throat tightened. So, it had been his own curiosity that betrayed him. He clenched his fists beneath the table, trying to steady himself. "I don't know what you're talking about," he replied, but his voice lacked conviction.

Daichi chuckled, low and menacing, and then the tomoe in his Sharingan began to spin. Renjiro's breath caught as the ordinary Sharingan morphed into something far more sinister.

The tomoe of his Sharingan spun lazily, crimson bleeding into the whites until the irises fractured into a kaleidoscope of jagged patterns. Each segment resembled a shard of broken glass, with edges sharp enough to cut the soul. At the centre, a pinprick of void-black pulsed like a heartbeat, swallowing the light around it. 

For a moment, Renjiro forgot himself. He stared, transfixed by the haunting beauty of Daichi's Mangekyo. It was as if the very fabric of reality warped around those eyes, drawing him in.

It pulled at him, not with the hypnotic allure of the Sharingan's usual genjutsu, that Renjiro couldn't remember how it felt, but with the visceral terror of falling into a bottomless pit. His stomach lurched. An itch crawled beneath his skin, burrowing deeper the longer he stared. There was something fundamentally wrong with those eyes, as if they peered into a part of the universe that no mortal was meant to see.

"So he also has a Mangekyo—" Renjiro's thoughts fractured mid-sentence as a sudden, crushing force overtook him.

"Splash!"

Suddenly, Renjiro was drowning. Not in water, but in thick, syrupy darkness that filled his lungs and clawed at his throat.

He gasped, his chest tightening, but no sound escaped his lips. His body refused to move, his limbs locked, as though invisible strings bound him in place. Panic surged through him, his thoughts spiralling out of control.

"What is happening to me?" he thought—or tried to. His brain blanked out before he could complete the thought.

Somewhere far away, he heard a voice—his own—speaking words he hadn't willed. 

"Yes, I do."

The words hit him like a physical blow.

Renjiro's heart raced as realization dawned—he had just confessed.

'No. No, no, no—'

He tried to scream, to thrash, but his body was no longer his. It took him a moment to process that his mouth had moved of its own accord, his voice speaking against his will.

His breathing quickened, and he struggled to activate his Sharingan, to summon his chakra and break free from whatever hellish technique Daichi was using. But no matter how hard he tried, his chakra remained sluggish, crawling through his chakra network like molasses. It was as if the very essence of his being was being suppressed, held hostage by Daichi's will.

Daichi circled him, sandals clicking rhythmically against the ground.

"Click. Click. Click." "One Problem with our people is that we always think our eyes make us invincible," he mused, his tone almost conversational. "But power without control is a poison. And you, Renjiro… you reek of it."

Renjiro's jaw clenched until his teeth ached. He fought to focus, to piece together the fragments of his unravelling mind.

'Is this some sort of Genjutsu?' he thought frantically. But even that thought was snatched away, his mind blanking out again. When his consciousness flickered back, he heard Daichi's voice, smooth and venomous.

"When did you awaken it?" Daichi asked, his tone deceptively calm.

Renjiro's jaw clenched as his body betrayed him once more. "Some time ago," he answered, though this time he had managed to alter the words slightly, which cost him. Pain erupted behind his eyes—a white-hot lance drilling into his brain. He gasped, blood trickling from his nostrils as his vision swam. 

Daichi chuckled, low and rich. "Impressive. To resist even a little… you're stronger than you look." He crouched, bringing his face level with Renjiro's. The Mangekyo's fractured patterns seemed to spin faster, carving into Renjiro's resolve.

"But don't think for a moment that you're stronger than me."

Renjiro glared at him, sweat dripping down his temples as he fought to regain control of his own body. Daichi's face darkened, the smirk vanishing as he leaned closer.

"How did you awaken it?" he demanded, his voice sharp and biting. "Who did you kill?"

Renjiro's stomach twisted. He knew the usual cost of the Mangekyo Sharingan— the blood it required to bloom. But his was different and he was sure Daichi wouldn't believe him. Even if he did, he wouldn't want to divulge how he got the dojustsu. 

Renjiro gritted his teeth, willing himself to resist, to stay silent.

"No one," Renjiro spat, the words tearing from his throat like shrapnel. 

Daichi's eyes narrowed, his gaze boring into Renjiro with an intensity that felt like it could shatter his very soul. For a moment, silence hung heavy in the room, broken only by the sound of Renjiro's labored breathing.

"No one?" Daichi echoed, his tone laced with disbelief. "How is that possible?"

Renjiro's Sharingan finally flared to life, the three tomoe spinning wildly before shifting into the six-pointed star of his Mangekyo. His eyes burned with a fiery resolve, even as blood trickled down his cheeks from the strain. But his Mangekyo did not lessen the situation he was in.

Daichi raised an eyebrow, mildly impressed. "Ah, so this is your Mangekyo," he mused, studying the intricate star-like pattern in Renjiro's eyes. "Beautiful. But you're still not answering my question. How did you awaken it without paying the price?"

Renjiro's voice was hoarse, his body trembling from the effort of resisting. "It's my body," he ground out. "It just... happened."

The strain of speaking sent fresh rivulets of blood streaming from his eyes, staining his face crimson. Daichi watched him with a mixture of curiosity and amusement, his lips curling into a cold smile.

"Fascinating," he murmured. He straightened, brushing invisible dust from his robes as if Renjiro's defiance was nothing more than a minor inconvenience.

Renjiro slumped back in his seat, his muscles aching from the constant tension. For a moment, he dared to hope that the ordeal was over—that Daichi had finally decided to leave him be.

But then Daichi stepped closer, his shadow falling over Renjiro like a specter of death. He leaned down, placing his hands on his knees until his face was level with Renjiro's. His Mangekyo spun lazily, a silent reminder of the power he wielded.

"Now," Daichi said, his voice soft but laden with menace, "what have we learnt today?"

Renjiro blinked, confused by the question. He opened his mouth to respond, but no words came. Daichi's smirk widened as he straightened up, towering over him.

"Say it," Daichi commanded. "Always say the truth."

Renjiro's lips moved before he could stop them. "Always say the truth," he repeated, his voice hollow.

Daichi's satisfaction was evident in the way his smirk softened into something resembling a smile. "

Good." Daichi patted his cheek, the gesture almost paternal. "Remember that, and you might survive this clan." 

Renjiro watched in silence as Daichi strode away, his footsteps echoing through the chamber. The suffocating pressure lifted, but the weight of what had just happened lingered. Renjiro's body trembled as he stared at the blood staining his hands, the words "Always say the truth" echoing in his mind like a cursed mantra.

=====

Bless me with your powerful Power Stones.

Your Reviews and Comments about my work are welcomed

If you can, then please support me on Patreon. 

Link - www.patreon.com/SideCharacter

You Can read more chapters ahead on Patreon.