A/N: Much longer chapter this time. I wanted to separate the fight scene from the world exposition scene, but seeing as how individually they wouldn't be my normal decent length chapters, I just went ahead to combine them.
"Normal Dialogue"
'Inner thoughts'
~ With Shisui, ??? ~
Shisui didn't telegraph his attack—one moment he was standing still, the next he vanished, the air displacing around the vacuum of his body flicker technique. Even jōnin-level shinobi would struggle to track his movements at full speed, the technique that earned him his moniker refined to near perfection.
He reappeared behind the man, kunai aimed precisely at the base of the skull, Sharingan calculating trajectory, force, and timing down to microseconds. It's an attack that has ended dozens of lives, executed flawlessly.
However, his blade met nothing but air.
The man stood three paces to the left, exactly as he was, posture unchanged, expression mildly curious. He hadn't shifted his weight, hadn't even blinked.
"Fascinating technique," he commented, as if observing a moderately interesting butterfly. "Quite innovative to combine short-range teleportation with those eyes of yours."
Shisui didn't waste his breath responding. He flickered again, this time creating three simultaneous movements—a technique that cost him months of training and chakra control to perfect. He striked from three different angles, each attack precisely timed to eliminate any possible evasion pattern.
The man stepped casually between the convergence points, moving with such fluidity that Shisui's Mangekyo could not even detect the transition. It was as if reality was accomodating his movements rather than the other way around.
"You're quick," the man acknowledged, "but you're thinking in three dimensions when you should be considering at least a hundred times that."
Frustration was slowly creeping into Shisui's chest. He formed hand signs faster than the eye could follow, inhaled deeply, and exhales a fireball that engulfed the surrounding with searing heat.
Fire style - Great Fireball.
The flames illuminated the area in violent orange, casting twisted shadows onto the surrounding trees. When they dissipated, the forest remained untouched. No scorch marks, no smoke, no damage. The man stood in the same spot, not a hair out of place.
"I do appreciate the light show," he said, "though there are less destructive ways to brighten the day."
Shisui narrowed his eyes, shifting strategies. If ninjutsu won't work, perhaps genjutsu will. His Mangekyo Sharingan spun faster, focusing on the man's eyes, attempting to establish the connection needed for his most powerful illusion.
"Ah, attempting to rewrite my perceptions?" The man sounds almost delighted. "A bold approach, using your famed Kotoamatsukami on me."
The genjutsu, which should have been invisible to its target, seemed to amuse the man rather than affect him. Shisui felt his chakra flowing into the technique, but the results it produced was like pouring water into an endless void—no resistance, no impact, just... nothing.
The man taps his temple. "The architecture of my consciousness isn't compatible with your revisions, I'm afraid. It's almost like attempting to play a vinyl record on a digital player."
Shisui grit his teeth and switched to taijutsu, his body moved with a series of attacks. Each action transitioned into the next with practiced skill—palm strikes, elbow thrusts, sweeping kicks and feints executed at a speed that would leave most opponents unconscious before they could even register the first blow.
However, the man avoided each attack with minimal movement. He made no attempts to counter, content to demonstrate the futility of Shisui's efforts without inflicting harm.
"Your technique is impressive," he commented between dodges. "Excellent flow of movement. You'd be quite formidable against most people your age in your world."
Something about the casual praise while being so thoroughly outmatched pushed Shisui to his limits. He channeled chakra to his feet, launched himself toward a tree, then body flickers in mid-air, creating a cascading series of afterimages as he attacked from multiple angles in rapid succession.
His Mangekyo tracked every possible escape route, every counter, every defense. It would take someone short of Kakashi's level to evade this assault—he had created a perfect cage of attacks.
The man stepped out of the center of Shisui's technique as if walking through an open door, his movements defying the laws of physics and probability that Shisui's Mangekyo had calculated.
Shisui landed in a crouch, his breathing hard, more from frustration than exertion. His chakra reserves remained strong, but his confidence had taken a significant blow. He straightened slowly, deactivating his Sharingan, the red fading from his eyes as they return to their natural dark state.
"Oh, we're done with this dance?" the man asked curiously.
Shisui took a deep breath, centering himself. The anger still simmered beneath his skin, but the futility of the situation had become abundantly clear. No technique in his arsenal, no combination of skills that made him elite among the Uchiha, would make the slightest difference against this being. Ninjutsu, Taijutsu, even Genjutsu. Nothing worked.
"Yes," he admitted, the single word harder to say than he expected. "I'm done."
The man studied him for a moment, then nodded with what appeared to be genuine approval. "An intelligent response. Many in your position would continue until exhaustion or injury forced them to stop."
"There is no point," Shisui acknowledges, his voice level again. "You are clearly on a completely different level."
"Indeed I am." The man circles Shisui slowly, observing him from different angles. "I was initially disappointed when you lost your composure. I expected better emotional regulation from someone with your background."
He stopped directly in front of Shisui. "But I understand your reaction. You've been trained to act when confronted with threats or injustice. Passivity in the face of power you oppose goes against everything that defines you."
For the first time since their encounter began, the man's expression softens into something almost sympathetic. "Your moral outrage isn't misplaced, merely misdirected. As I have been saying, I am not the architect of your world's suffering, merely an observer of its patterns."
Shisui met his gaze steadily. "Understanding that doesn't make it easier to accept."
"No," the man agreed, "It does not. The capacity to care about suffering beyond your own experience is what made you unique among your clan. It's why your death was particularly wasteful."
"So what now?" Shisui finally asks, the question emerging from the calm center he's fought to reclaim.
Silence enveloped the room, pressing in until Shisui felt overwhelmed by it. The man seemed content to let it stretch, perhaps accustomed to the weight of wordless moments in ways humans never could be. When he finally spoke, his voice was softer than before, the edge of amusement replaced by something more thoughtful.
"I've brought you to a world called Earthland," he started, gesturing toward the surrounding. "More specifically, to a kingdom called Fiore. The people here don't use chakra as you understand it. Through the use of Ethernano, they practice magic instead."
"Magic?" Shisui repeated, the concept alien despite all the impossible things he had just witnessed. "Like illusions and tricks?"
The man smiles, but it was not condescending. "No, like manipulating elemental forces, enhancing physical abilities beyond natural limits, altering reality in specific, rule-bound ways. Not entirely unlike your jutsu, though the foundations and mechanisms differ significantly."
He walks to the edge of the forest, motioning for Shisui to join him. Beyond, the woods extend toward distant mountains, with trees towering in styles Shisui had never seen.
"In this world, magicians—they call themselves mages—often join guilds. Organizations that provide community, training, and employment opportunities." The man points toward a nearby clearing where, out of nowhere, miniature structures rises in a castle-like grandeur. "This is a replica of the guild Fairy Tail, one of the most prominent guilds in Fiore."
The building looked almost castle-like, bearing a symbol Shisui didn't recognize.
"Fairy Tail," the man continued, "has a rather unusual philosophy. They consider their members family, not merely colleagues. They accept people regardless of their pasts, focusing instead on who they choose to be now."
Something in Shisui stirred at those words—a longing he hadn't allowed himself to acknowledge. The Uchiha clan had many virtues, but unconditional acceptance was never among them.
"They're also known for extraordinary power and," the man's mouth twitched amusedly, "unprecedented property damage. Their approach to problem-solving tends toward the direct and explosive."
"Why this world?" Shisui asked, eyes still fixed on the image of the guild hall. "Of all the places you could have sent me, why here?"
The man leaned against a gnarled tree trunk. "Aside for my own amusement? Compatibility, mainly. The magical system here isn't identical to chakra, but it's similar enough that your abilities can translate with some adjustments, though I retained your use of Chakra instead because it would be more entertaining that way. And the cultural framework, while different, has enough familiar elements that you won't be completely adrift."
He turned to face Shisui directly. "Plus, I found the contrast interesting. Your world was built on secrecy, espionage, and military hierarchy. This one mainly values openness, individual expression, and chosen bonds. Your abilities made you a weapon there. Here, they would make you just another interesting mage."
Shisui absorbed this information slowly, trying to imagine a life where his Sharingan wouldn't mark him as either an elite asset or a target for those seeking power. It seemed impossible, yet the man had no reason to lie about this.
"But what am I supposed to do here?" he finally asked the question that had been building since he first awoke. "What's my purpose?"
"Entertainment, as I said," the man replied with a shrug.
Shisui shook his head. "That's your purpose for me. What about my purpose for myself? Am I supposed to join a guild? Fight some enemy? Fulfill some mission?"
The question hung between them, and for once, the man seemed to consider his words carefully before speaking.
"You're asking for a mission," he said eventually. "A directive, an objective, parameters to operate within." He shook his head, a gesture almost gentle in its rebuke. "That's the shinobi in you talking—always looking for the assignment, the greater purpose that justifies your existence."
He straightened, his height suddenly more imposing though his physical form hadn't changed. "I want you to live, Shisui Uchiha. Not survive, not serve, not sacrifice—live. Make choices based on your desires rather than duty. Form connections because you want them, not because they serve some strategic purpose."
The man moved away from the trunk. "I want to watch you build a life unshackled by the constraints of a misguided 'Will of Fire' that burns its children in the name of the village. Freed from the traditions of a clan that values eyes more than the people who possess them."
His voice then softens. "Your life was never truly your own. From the moment you were born into the Uchiha clan, your path was predetermined—a weapon to be wielded, a tool to be used, ultimately a sacrifice to be made when necessary."
Shisui wanted to object, to defend the principles he had died for, but the words were stuck in his throat. Hadn't he given his eye, his life, because he saw no other choice? Hadn't he accepted death as the only solution, the final mission?
"Here," the man continued, "you have no clan demanding loyalty, no village requiring service, no elders plotting to use your abilities for their ambitions. You're just Shisui—not Shisui of the Body Flicker, not the Uchiha prodigy, not Konoha's elite assassin."
He made a sweeping gesture that somehow encompassed the entirety of the world beyond the forest. "For the first time in your existence, your life belongs solely to you. What will you do with such freedom, I wonder? What choices will you make when they're truly yours to make?"
Shisui stared at him, this being who speaks of freedom as if it's the greatest gift imaginable, who views Shisui's lifetime of duty and sacrifice as a prison rather than a purpose.
"Live," the man says again, the word hanging in the air like a challenge. "Live, be free."
The concept was simultaneously terrifying and exhilarating—a vast, uncharted territory stretching before him. For someone who had always defined himself by his service to others, the idea of living solely for himself felt almost sacrilegious.
"And if I choose to continue serving others?" Shisui asked, testing the boundaries of this supposed freedom. "If I join a guild and use my abilities to protect people?"
The man's smile returns, wider than before. "Then that would be your choice, wouldn't it? Made freely, without the weight of tradition or obligation forcing your hand." He tilts his head, studying Shisui with renewed interest. "And that's the beauty of it—I don't know what you'll choose and I don't want to look into the future just to see it. That's what makes this entertaining! Oh, and before I forget, you'll be fine to rest here for a few days without interruption. I've made sure of that."
"I still have questions," Shisui said, his mind racing with all the things he needed to understand—about this world, about magic, about how his abilities might work here. But as he blinked, the sight in that greeted him changed again.
Just as how the man had suddenly appeared in the beginning, the man had now suddenly vanished, leaving no trace, no disturbance in the air, not even the lingering sensation of chakra—or magic—that usually follows a teleportation technique.
"Wait!" Shisui lunged forward, hands grasping at empty space. His Sharingan activated instinctively, scanning for any hint of the man's presence—a chakra signature, a concealment jutsu, even the subtle distortion of light that might indicate a high-level genjutsu.
Nothing.
"How am I supposed to—" he begun before catching himself. There was no one to hear his questions now, no cryptic being to offer enigmatic answers. For the first time since awakening in this world, Shisui was truly alone with the implications of his situation.
He sunk onto the ground beneath him, head swimming with too many thoughts to process. Freedom. A second chance. A world of magic rather than chakra. His temples throbbed with a sudden, intense pressure. The headache that greeted him upon awakening returned with renewed force, radiating from behind his eyes outward.
Shisui pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes, trying to stem the tide of discomfort. His body, which moved with such precision during his futile attack on the mysterious man, now betrayed him with trembling hands and unsteady breathing.
"Focus," he commanded himself, falling back on ANBU training. "Assess. Prioritize. Act."
But the practiced mantra faltered against the reality of his exhaustion. His Sharingan deactivated involuntarily, his body finally acknowledging the strain of the day's events. His mind had been operating on pure survival instinct, pushing past limits that would have broken lesser shinobi hours ago. But even the elite have breaking points, and Shisui felt his approaching with the inevitability of nightfall.
He should resist—to stay alert, gather information, form a plan. That's what his training demanded. But the man's words echo in his thoughts: he's not a shinobi anymore. Not ANBU, not an Uchiha operative. Just Shisui, whoever that might be without the labels and expectations that have defined him.
Perhaps, just this once, he could allow himself to rest without strategizing what comes next. His body made the decision for him. As he attempted to stand, his legs buckled, sending him sprawling across the ground.
Live. Be free.
Tomorrow would bring new challenges, new decisions. Questions about this world called Earthland, about what it meant to build a life from nothing. But for now, Shisui simply closed his eyes and surrendered to the darkness, this time without the fear of what waits on the other side.
After all, he'd already died once. Whatever came next could hardly be worse than what he'd already survived.
~ End of Chapter 03 ~