Chapter 15: One Tomoe Sharingan

Calendar Year: 287 AC

<Madara POV>

The warmth of the sun's rays gently illuminated my face, seemingly to strike a response, and my eyes slowly fluttered open.

At first, everything seemed ordinary, a tranquil scene in the silence, birds chirping from the garden.

My black hair, already beginning to grow long and flowing, blocked my sight. Nothing was out of place. But that was just it... In my half-dazed state, I brought a hand to my cheek, brushing against my skin before covering my eyes.

'It's back to normal...' My sharigan eyes which could never been turned off before, those days are now gone.

Suddenly a burst of memories washed over me, my body started trembling, but not from fear, but from intense happiness.

'The Sage Eyes!' 

This excitement brought me a sense of security in this strange world. However, as quickly as my excitement came it went away, only leaving a solemn face leaving its place...

As the old patriarch of the Uchiha clan, I had lived through the pain and sacrifice required to awaken these eyes.

I still bore the memory of my brother Izuna and his lifeless body in my arms, and the choice I had made to claim his strength for our clan's survival. 

Thinking of this, my black eyes started to turn red in a reaction.

Surprised by this I was quickly hoping to already reawaken the one tomoe sharingan, but soon my surprise turned into a defeated smile, although I am sad from these memories but is not enough to shake my mind where I can awaken it.

The saying time heals wounds is true in this case. So how can I awaken these eyes again?

Now, there is no brother, no bonds, no one whose death could stir the very emotions necessary to awaken my eye's true potential.

I am alone, surrounded by strangers, trapped in this strange world where I have no home, no clan and no purpose.

'Do I have to love to only have it taken away just to bear fruit to the power of my eyes?' This thought made me involuntarily close my eyes in pain.

I tilt my head backwards as I freefall my body back into my bed, and continue to think.

'This place I currently reside in feels like a cage. I have not reached true freedom yet, both in my mind and physical qualities of life.

Although they have fed and taken care of me in this time of need, I know they don't do so with good intentions, otherwise, my life here would be a lot different.' I can only think bitterly.

However, my eyes slowly opened followed by a small smirk tugged at my lips. 'I am patient. Perseverance is the hallmark of a true ninja. I waited years for my plan to fruition in the Ninja world, now these mere childhood years are nothing to me.'

For now, I shall continue playing this game. I will weave a genjutsu of my own from my actions to them. Making them believe I am someone they can control. My cold eyes showed no emotion at this thought.

Although I cannot yet understand their strange language, my instincts warn me that their intentions are far from pure. Their actions, their tone, their scheming it's all too familiar.

'It reminds me of Black Zetsu's manipulations...'

I clenched my fists tightly. Even feeling a seeping pain from my fingernails into flesh.

'This helplessness... this feeling of being at someone else's mercy! It's infuriating!.' All I can do is bury this feeling deep, but I know it's only a temporary solution, maybe it's also me trying to find ways to build up emotional influxes to help awaken these eyes.

But now, I must bide my time.

Closing my eyes in the silence, I let my mind slowly drift to what Hashirama said to me.

"Open your heart. Trust in yourself."

Opening my heart would have been difficult for me before, but now... I am starting to feel another sense of loneliness, this is a new world after all, a place where I could make new bonds and no one knows of my past experiences.

If this world is full of those scenes I saw when I first came here, then I should do something, even if I can't become the strongest, I will still hold a claim in this foreign land sheltering those who need it.

The Konoha Hashirama dreamed of. Maybe I can try a little bit of that life, but if I can't. I may have to reenact what I did in the Ninja world once more...

I don't know if Infinite Tsyukyomi can work here as I needed chakra and Tailed Beasts for that, the former I don't have, and the latter I'm not sure if they are here too.

So if I am to make any lasting changes, I need to understand this world a lot better.

I need to pick a part of this world's structure piece by piece and understand its underlining.

I need to know who my biggest enemies will be, and my greatest allies, willing or not.

As my thoughts turned to the future, I inadvertently thought of a major issue... that is the issue of my clan.

As the last Uchiha, the responsibility of continuing our bloodline rests solely on my shoulders.

In my old world, it was customary for shinobi to marry and have children young, as death and missions were the ever-present realities.

Most formed single, deep bonds, but I recall that some, like my father and certain lords, took multiple partners to ensure their lineage.

'What should I do in this world?'

I let the question hang unanswered, a part of me reluctant to face it fully.

Perhaps, for now, I should simply deal with this situation when it arrives. Even if I do find a wife like Hashirama did, I would need to ensure they are willing to join my dream and goals first.

How undoing would it be for my great plans to be ruined because I became weak? 'If they are to become my Madara Uchiha wife, they must have the drive and power to fight with me and my enemies.'

A smug look appears on my face at this thought.

In my past life, I was consumed by fighting an endless cycle of war and betrayal. I walked that path alone for most of it, never pausing to consider what a normal life might feel like.

'Maybe, in this new world, I can strike a balance, both my goal and my life.'

With that thought, I finally sat up in bed, where I had been lying for the better part of an hour.

'But first I must become strong enough to not have to worry of my future consequences'

My stomach growls, pulling me back to the present. Realizing I must have slept in due to that experience last night, I hop out of bed, throw on some dark grey clothes, put on my sandals and leave my room.

Making my way to the dining table, I find a bowl of porridge left out for me. The lack of steam rising from it tells me it has been sitting there for some time. I eat in silence, my eyes drifting to the servants and guards around me.

A cleaner moves mechanically in the corner, scrubbing at a stubborn stain on the stone floor. All the while not forgetting to look at me and others from time to time.

Outside the window, a gardener tended to the hedges with a tired look, but his eyes betrayed him as he was staring at me as well.

Both of them however struck something similar, they both wear cold, metallic collars that glint under the light.

I had seen several people walking in and out of this estate ones in fine clothes followed by those in single clothes having those metal bracers around their necks.

'Slaves' was a distant memory.

I did not have much knowledge of it as I never really was involved in anything related to it, not that I wanted to, but because it was not very often to come across.

Slaves wore chains and were pulled by people to work in the mines that the Fire Nations gold came from to fill their fancy palaces. Those placed there would be the defeated shinobi or people paying off debts.

This situation may need to be looked into, and could potentially benefit me greatly.

My eyes turn to guards stationed nearby these men are no better.

I spot two of them in a corner, laughing as they tease a maid who flinches under their taunts. Their armour clinks as they close in on her, and I feel a flicker of disdain rise in my chest.

These men are weak. Only able to tease a woman and lose the sense of their duty. 

This thought strangely reminds me of what I was thinking earlier about reviving my clan... I won't also be like that right?... 

'Something worth coming back to'

Finishing the porridge without a word, I get up and make my way to the training grounds.

*Clang*

The clash of swords and shields rang out. This sound sent a surge of energy coursing through me, stirring something familiar deep within and my blood began to boil.

I've always been a fighter, but since I can't do anything now I can still watch. Quickening my pace, I made my way to the training grounds, where the sounds of combat grew louder.

When I arrived, my gaze fell upon a group of twenty men clad in sleek, black leather armour. Their movements were precise and disciplined. These were real soldiers.

'Not like those half-trained amoebas loitering in the dining hall.' My unabashed thoughts filled my heart.

Standing at the edge of the training grounds, I watched as the soldiers practiced their drills and sparred with one another.

The rhythmic movements of their blades were great to see, each releasing a clashing symphony of steel.

They noticed me after a moment, their eyes briefly meeting mine before they returned to their exercises, unbothered by my presence.

'Professionalism, able to still do this in sight of a child truly means they have full control on what they are doing'

I could only nod in appreciation, this level of discipline was enough for me wanting to have some of these men of my own. This idea gradually took root in my mind and it would not go away.

Ever since I could walk, I've come to this place to observe and hope my body will be able to start training, only recently could my small body be able to bear the weight of carrying a dagger without feeling misaligned 

'This body...' Looking at my small body I really didn't understand why I couldn't start training a year ago. So I could only hold onto rocks, and start practicing my throwing.

It was a strange and humbling experience.

In my previous life, I had started combat training at a young age.

By the age of three, I could wield a blade and start understanding how to use it with basic techniques.

But in this world, I was shackled by the limitations of a human child's body... this weak and untrained body was entirely foreign to me.

The absence of chakra in this world only deepened the contrast.

The energy that had once been second nature to me was simply... gone.

Without it, my body felt incomplete.

Still, time had allowed me to adapt, albeit slowly.

The awakening of my Sage Eyes had finally given me some semblance of control over this body, and the new energy Hagomoro mentioned seemed something to look into.

Before that, it was as if my very bloodline was bound in chains, I couldn't close my Sharingan at all. It was like that Masked Ninja with white hair who was using Obito's Mangekyo.

'It wasn't until I regained the Sage Eyes that I could fully control them.'

Even so, I was all too aware of the cost of those eyes. In my old life, pain and hatred had been the catalysts for unlocking the Uchiha's true power.

I had used that knowledge to my advantage, manipulating others like Obito, exploiting their suffering to mould them into tools for my ambitions.

'Obito...'

The memory brought a bitter taste to my mouth.

He was a reflection of my own flaws, a reminder of the dark path I had walked. So I took what he had and destroyed it, creating him as a tool for my will, and his hatred and anger grew his power into something special. Truly, his Mangekyo is probably one of the strongest I have seen. 

I turned my attention back to the soldiers, my fists clenching at my sides. They moved with a purpose, their strikes calculated, their defences solid. Watching them stirred a familiar hunger within me.

If my body wasn't like this now, I could defeat them without even moving my hands, If we were to fight and I had a weapon, I could kill one of them in a one on one, even in this untrained body, my own combat awareness was enough to make up the lack of it.

Thankfully, with my Sharingan, I had already copied an entire book on the language of the common tongue and valerian.

But memorization wasn't enough for understanding, and speaking fluently required practice, repetition, and patience.

As I approached the group of soldiers, I was drawn in by the commands they were shouting to one another, a sudden realization came to me, I could fully understand what they were saying.

The words they spoke the commands, the exchanges, the clipped tones of discipline suddenly resonated with perfect clarity. The syllables, that I had trouble pronouncing or even saying entirely now flowed seamlessly into meaning.

'I can understand them.'

For a moment, I stood frozen, my mind racing. Memories and dialogues I had heard growing up were starting to become more and more clear.

Testing my newfound comprehension, I hesitantly began to form words, speaking in Valyrian, and the common tongue that had surrounded me since my arrival in this world. The sounds came naturally, each syllable precise and deliberate.

'It worked.'

As the words left my lips, I marvelled at the predicament.

No longer did I need to compare sounds and syllables to the written text I had memorized? What had once been a laborious mental exercise was now effortless.

It was then that I realized the significance of this moment. This was no mere coincidence.

This was something far greater something tied to my bloodline awakening. One I will have to fully understand myself to better develop myself for the future.

A smirk spread across my face as I looked at the soldiers, still barking commands and executing their drills. I could now understand their every word, every command, every nuance of tone.

With this newfound clarity, I felt the scale of my power tipping once again. This was just the beginning.

I was awoken from my thoughts by the sound of a guard approaching me hesitantly, this was normal for the past year I have been here. Ever since the person who took me in also isolated me, so did the others.

His expression was hard to read, but there was something there a flicker of fear, perhaps?

He stopped a few paces away, his eyes scanning me. For a brief moment, I thought he might have come with a message or some mundane task, but then his demeanour shifted.

He looked at me, eye to eye.

Without the Sharingan's crimson glow, maybe he thought I was powerless.

Maybe it emboldened him, giving him a false sense of confidence.

Before I could even open my mouth to question him, the atmosphere shifted.

I felt it, a subtle shift in the air, with an unmistakable sense of threat.

The guard stabbed forward without warning, aiming straight for my face.

My body reacted instinctively, my head started leaning back instantly, followed by my footsteps with fluid precision as the dagger narrowly missed my face, cutting off some stands of hair indicating its sharpness.

I could only take in his expression of mounting aggression as he launched another strike.

Again, I dodged, all the while reaching into my pocket.

My fingers found a handful of jagged rocks, the size of about half a palm. I have been collecting these earlier for some stone-throwing.

Without missing a beat, I hurled the first jagged rock, aiming for his hand.

It was a slow, deliberate throw, meant to mislead.

The second jagged rock followed almost immediately, faster and at a different angle, forcing him to adjust his stance.

The third came last, striking the second one mid-air and creating a chain reaction applying friction which shoots towards the first one. The first pebble accelerated sharply, slicing through the air and leaving an embedded jagged rock into the his hand holding his dagger, having him drop it.

The guard staggered back in shock, clutching his hand as a bead of blood dripped to the ground.

I wanted to smirk, but instead, I stumbled, a wave of exhaustion crashing over me. 

The adrenaline was too much to handle in this small body of mine.

'Damn this body.' I once again curse in frustration.

I couldn't deny it any longer.. this child's form, this cage of flesh and bone, was holding me back, and my stamina was pitiful. Even the simplest exertion left me drained. I need to start seriously training now since I can.

The guard hesitated, his earlier fear seemed to come back. But then his eyes darted to mine still dark, still ordinary. Realizing the Sharingan wasn't there, his confidence surged again.

With a growl, he rushed forward, his steps heavy and unrelenting.

I tried to steady myself, gripping another pebble, ready to repeat my earlier maneuver. But my legs faltered, trembling beneath me. My vision blurred for a moment as my breath came in shallow, uneven gasps.

I couldn't stop him.

His punch connected squarely with my face, the force of it lifting me off the ground. Pain exploded across my nose as I was sent hurling backward, my small frame skidding against the dirt.

I lay there, dazed.

'This is humiliating... I was punched by the same gravel I look down upon.'

The guard's shadow loomed over me, his expression could still see traces of unease. He wasn't sure what I was capable of after my display of strength, I wanted to keep them feeling that, at most ill be known as a child warrior. At least I'll be taken more seriously.

But as I lay here covering my eyes, I realize how weak and pathetic I must look.

My pride was shattered by that punch, I was not the current Shura Ninja God that struck fear into the hearts of men in my old world, and now I was just a Uchiha brat.

If I wanted to do anything with my goals and aspirations I would need power.

I would have to fight for it from the ground up. Just like I did during the Sengoku Period.

Suddenly I felt an ethereal force loosen, a soothing calming feeling washed over me. This sense of familiarity I knew all too well. All the overwhelming emotions finally allowed my first transformation.

My black eyes had now reshown red with a single tomoe.

I slowly moved my arm upwards from my eyes, unable to see from the top, but I could see their feet.

As I silently started counting the steps as the guard approached me. 

I noticed behind him those soldiers from earlier were also making their way over here, they would get here faster than he could to me, and it seems he doesn't even notice.

My focus, however, shifted to something else the weapon rack. It stood just twenty meters away, gleaming with opportunity. My mind began to calculate.

'Distance. Timing. Distraction.'

The plan formed almost instinctively, a product of years of combat experience. My body might be weak, but my mind was sharp. If I could just get to that rack...

Closing my eyes for a brief moment, I exhaled slowly, letting the tension drain from my muscles. When I opened them again, the world seemed sharper, more focused. My blood boiled with the familiar thrill of battle.

I readied myself, preparing to move. My body was still unfamiliar clumsy, and underdeveloped but battle knowledge and experience would guide me through this. I could feel it, the rhythm of the fight, the flow of action and reaction.

The guard shifted his stance, readying himself for another charge. But before I could act, a sharp voice cut through the air like a blade.

"Defense."

The command came in fluent Valyrian, spoken with calm authority.

At once, four of the soldiers raised their shields, their spears forming an impenetrable wall in front of me. The remaining men quickly surrounded the attacker, boxing him in.

Seeing this, I slowly closed the Sharingan, going back to my cold black eyes. I stood up covered in dirt and some blood from my nose.

"This is Lord Illyrio's son. And we are tasked with protecting him," the captain said loudly, his voice leaving no question. "And yet, you attacked him with intent to kill."

The captain spoke the common tongue, but I could tell it felt foreign to him too, as he had some difficulty saying it smoothly.

I raised an eyebrow at his words.

'Lord Illyrio's son?' It seemed laughable.

I didn't truly understand the details of my supposed lineage, but I know I was not born from him. Remembering who my 'mother' was was a bizarre feeling. 

'I wonder what happened' I was taken away too soon to know her final result.

However, er I had little need for answers right now.

My priority was survival and understanding the pieces of this strange puzzle.

At my age, in this body, I lacked the power to influence much beyond my immediate surroundings. But I believed in myself, and I knew that time was on my side.

I was no stranger to solitude or the isolation of the unknown.

The guard who had attacked me was left standing there as if frozen. As the soldier's spears were facing towards him.

He glanced at them with apprehension but turned his gaze to me with undisguised hatred.

The captain, however, shifted his focus back to me, his expression unable to be seen through the single-spiked dark helmet. "Little Master," he addressed me, "what would you have us do with him?"

'Little Master?' this was an interesting wording, but I didn't think much of it at this time.

"Let him live," I said finally, my voice steady.

The reaction was immediate. The captain just blinked, while the guard flinched as if expecting an execution order instead.

Yet there was no gratitude in his eyes only unrelenting hatred.

'Perfect.'

A small smirk tugged at the corner of my lips.

"But..." I continued, my voice low and deliberate, "Give me time, and I will kill him myself."

The captain's expression shifted again, but it was very slight, quickly replaced by a grim understanding. He didn't seem fazed by what I said.

The captain gave a small, respectful nod. "Relieved," he called out to the other soldiers.

At his command, the soldiers lowered their weapons, though they remained close to my side.

Two of them moved to seize the guard, dragging him away toward what I assumed was a prison or holding cell.

As they hauled the guard off, the captain turned back to me. "Little Master, I will report this incident to Master Illyrio," he said, his tone serious.

My response was immediate and firm. "Let's go together."

The words spilled from my mouth in Valyrian, surprising even me.

The captain's reaction was one of visible shock, the first time I saw him even give a reaction. His eyes widened as if I had said something unnatural. His confusion was mirrored by the other soldiers, who exchanged uncertain glances.

'Why the odd reaction?' I wondered.

But I said nothing further, instead, I followed the captain as he led the way back to the same house I'd been confined to from my baby swaddling days up till now.

As we approached, a thought surfaced in my mind. The name "Illyrio" had been mentioned earlier by the captain.

'So this is his doing,' I mused, my brow furrowing briefly before smoothing again.

'Interesting.'

This was my first time to physically talk to this man, I only remembered him once when I first arrived, and then no more.

...Illyrio Study...

"Daemon, You wish to learn from the books of the world?" Illyrio's voice carried a hint of surprise, his eyebrows arching before his expression turned contemplative.

Something was calculating about the way he studied me as if weighing my words against some internal measure.

Then, his gaze sharpened, and his tone shifted. "What happened to your eyes?"

The sudden question hung heavy in the air, and his scrutiny deepened, his stare almost piercing as he tried to figure out whatever secrets I was hiding.

I met his gaze with calm indifference, suppressing the irritation bubbling within me.

'What does it matter to you, dead man?' I thought, my mind coldly dismissing him. Illyrio meant nothing to me, this place meant nothing to me.

These gilded walls and half-hearted courtesies only reminded me of a cold palace where concubines fell from grace and were cast aside like refuse.

"My eyes?" I feigned ignorance, allowing the faintest hint of curiosity to creep into my tone.

It seemed to be enough. Illyrio leaned back in his chair, though his fingers began to tap rhythmically against the desk.

"Yes, you may read the books," he said finally, waving a hand dismissively. "I'll have Yellow Bug bring them to you."

At this, he nodded toward the soldier who had accompanied me.

'Yellow Bug?' The name made me pause.

'Is it normal to have such strange names here?' I mused silently.

The absurdity of it pulled at my thoughts for a moment before another realization dawned.

'Daemon.' That was the name they had been calling me.

It sounded ridiculous, not that I had ever intended to acknowledge it in the first place.

I merely nodded and turned to leave, eager to distance myself from this conversation.

But just as I reached the door, Illyrio's voice stopped me.

"Daemon..." he began casually, though his tone betrayed a hint of probing curiosity. "How would you feel about having a brother and a sister?"

I froze, my hand hovering just above the handle. His words lingered in the air, weighted with an expectation I couldn't quite place.

A brother... and a sister?

The concept struck me with an unfamiliar ache, something I hadn't felt in years. Loneliness crept into the edges of my thoughts, uninvited and unwelcome.

But the word "brother" stirred something deeper.

Memories, still very vivid, flashed through my mind... It was Izuna's face, the love and the bond we shared. Soon that bond would be shattered by war and death.

And a sister? I had never known such a connection.

The idea of one felt foreign, an unknown variable I wasn't sure how to handle.

I tightened my grip on the door, forcing the memories back into the shadows.

"None of my business, do what you want," I said, at last, the words coming out cold as if to steel my resolve.

For a moment, the silence that followed was deafening, I realized too late how fluently the response had slipped from my lips.

Knowing I could understand and talk, I made a subconscious error, someone my age shouldn't be that smart, or genius. Yet I let this be seen by the one person I wouldn't.

'Have I regressed into a child in both body and mind?' The thought unsettled me deeply. This body... this fragile shell felt like a chain, and all I could do was endure until it grew stronger.

Illyrio chuckled softly behind me, a sound that grated against my nerves. "Very well," he said, his tone both amused and curious.