Gunaseelan K
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Chapter 3 – The Power of Emiya Shihara
🕑 Added 2025-09-11 05:14:00 +0000 UTC
The dim light filtering through the paper screens of the Hokage’s office cast long shadows across the wooden floor. Outside, the sounds of a bustling village drifted faintly in, yet inside the room the atmosphere was tense, almost brittle. Senju Tobirama sat stiffly, arms folded, his sharp eyes fixed on the man who had just been summoned from death itself—Emiya Shihara.
“Now,” Tobirama said, his voice measured but low, “tell me again. Their last name is Uchiha.”
Shihara inclined his head. “Yes. The Uchiha clan and the Senju clan have been locked in conflict for generations.”
Tobirama’s jaw tightened. He spoke as though finding in Shihara a confidant who truly understood his frustrations. “My elder brother defeated the Uchiha and convinced them to help build Konoha. Yet among them lurk those who cling to the darkness of their ancestors…”
What Tobirama did not notice was how intently his assistant—a young ANBU posted near the door—was listening to every word Shihara spoke. These were the kinds of stories the assistant longed to hear, stories of the village’s founders and their enemies. Each detail made Shihara seem more trustworthy, more like a man of wisdom than a stranger raised from the dead.
But Tobirama, focused on the present, had no reason to doubt a person said to have lived thousands of years ago. What mattered was the information this man possessed—information that could justify the surveillance policies Tobirama was already forming in his mind.
“Big Brother…” Tobirama’s eyes darkened as his voice dropped. “Even he was injured by an Uchiha whose malice was inherent.”
He spat the name like a bitter seed: “Uchiha Madara.”
There was no disguise in his hatred. “My brother invited Madara to help end the chaos. Instead, Madara betrayed him. He left Konoha, only to return bent on destroying it and killing my brother—dragging the ninja world back to the flames of war.”
For a moment the air was heavy with unspoken memories. Tobirama exhaled slowly. “Fortunately, Madara is dead. My brother is no longer bound by him.”
Shihara sighed softly, a note of regret in his voice. “From the way you speak, Madara sounds as warlike as his ancestor…”
He let the words hang, then continued, “Long ago, Ashura sought understanding and peace. Indra sought dominion over the ninja world. Two brothers, two ideals—locked in struggle until death.”
Tobirama gave a sharp, derisive snort. “This is the evil inherited in their bloodline! Just like the accursed Sharingan passed from one generation of Uchiha to the next.”
Shihara’s expression grew thoughtful. “I observed the Sharingan myself in ancient times. Its power gradually pushed Indra toward extremity.”
“Yes,” Tobirama replied, his tone softening in the presence of someone who seemed to share his conclusions. “I’ve studied the Sharingan as well. It is a bloodline limit bound to emotion. The more powerful the eyes, the stronger the emotions that drive them—and the more likely the wielder is to become extreme.”
He leaned forward slightly. “The stronger the Uchiha, the greater their risk of going too far. And the more extreme they become, the stronger they grow. A vicious cycle.”
It was an unsolvable dilemma. An Uchiha who failed to master his emotions would inevitably become dangerous. Tobirama’s mind was already moving to solutions. They had to be watched—closely and constantly.
Strict surveillance. Centralized oversight. That was the only way to protect the village.
He imagined a new department staffed by Uchiha themselves but monitored from the shadows by ANBU. Their settlements would be grouped together for easier observation. This was the only path he saw to security.
---
Konoha Hospital stood under the tightest security the village could muster. The recent battle between Senju Hashirama, the First Hokage, and Uchiha Madara had been so cataclysmic that it reshaped the land itself, leaving a great canyon at the site of their clash. Word of such a battle could not be hidden from the other villages. Already, foreign spies prowled the outskirts of Konoha, desperate to learn whether the First Hokage lived or died. Hashirama’s survival meant peace; his death could plunge the world into chaos.
Information about his condition had been sealed off at the highest level. Guards patrolled every hall. Yet even here, tension bled through the walls.
“Sasuke,” Tobirama suddenly called, his voice echoing down the corridor.
Shihara’s eyes twitched. Wait… Sasuke? This wasn’t right. According to his memories of the future, Konoha had only just been founded. This should be the era of Hashirama and Madara, the Valley of the End. How could Sasuke already be here?
A young man strode forward, bowing sharply. His dark eyes flicked toward Shihara with curiosity and a hint of suspicion. “Lord Tobirama. This is…?”
“This is Lord Emiya Shihara,” Tobirama said in a deep voice, his trust in the young ninja apparent. “Sasuke, you can relax. There is no longer any reason to worry about the village.”
He gestured toward Shihara. “I used a forbidden technique to resurrect Lord Emiya so he could treat my brother’s injuries. You’ve heard his name. With him here, my brother will recover.”
The young man’s eyes widened. “Lord Emiya… the greatest medical ninja? I grew up hearing tales of him. I never imagined I would meet him face to face…”
Tobirama introduced him formally. “This is Sarutobi Sasuke, captain of Konoha’s jōnin squad.” Then, with an authoritative edge, “Sasuke, you will keep Lord Emiya’s presence absolutely secret.”
Though Tobirama wielded immense power as the Hokage’s assistant, he was no dictator. The other clans still held sway, and in a moment as precarious as this—when Hashirama’s life hung in the balance—their cooperation was vital. The Sarutobi clan, larger and more stable than many others, had been instrumental in calming unrest. Tobirama’s open trust in Sasuke served as reassurance to the entire alliance.
“I’ll take Lord Emiya to the ward,” Tobirama said at last, patting Sasuke’s shoulder before moving to lead the way. He glanced back with a rare note of praise. “Sasuke is a man of iron will, patriarch of the Sarutobi clan. In many ways, even I fall short of him.”
He allowed himself a small smile. “His son Hiruzen is promising as well—already a master of their clan’s summoning technique at his age.”
As Tobirama spoke, he looked sidelong at Shihara, clearly hoping the ancient ninja might share some story about the Sarutobi’s ancestry. But Shihara only stared back, surprised. He wants me to talk about the Sarutobi’s past? I only know their future.
“In my time,” Shihara said finally, “there was no Sarutobi clan.”
Tobirama’s brow furrowed. “No Sarutobi…?”
“In the era when the Ninja Sect was first founded,” Shihara continued, “only the Sage of Six Paths bore a surname.”
At that name Tobirama stopped in his tracks. “The Sage of Six Paths? Lord Emiya, are you saying you’ve seen the legendary god himself?”
Shihara tilted his head. “The Senju have no records of him?”
Tobirama shook his head slowly. “For us, the Sage is a mythical creator. With the Amanuma Spear he ended the world’s disasters, spread chakra to mankind, and founded the Ninja Sect in ancient times.”
Shihara gave a noncommittal shrug. “I assumed the Senju kept records. After all, the Sage is the father of your ancestor Ashura—and of the Uchiha’s ancestor Indra.”
Tobirama’s heart thudded. He had never heard such a claim. If this knowledge spread, it could change everything. And the Uchiha, already arrogant, might grow even bolder.
But Shihara pressed on, unconcerned. “The Sage was a good man. When I first proposed the idea of medical ninjas, he donated his body for posthumous research.”
He did not mention the truth—that the Sage’s remains had been a quest reward, not a voluntary gift. Through them, Shihara had gained the strength to survive in this era. If only the Sage’s body had contained the secret of immortality, he might not have needed to cross death to return here at all.
---
A flicker of chakra glimmered in Shihara’s eyes as memories surfaced. His own status—burned into his mind like an invisible ledger—scrolled before him:
Name: Emiya Shihara.
Gender: Male.
Occupation: Ninja.
Chakra Attributes: Fire, Wind, Lightning, Earth, Water, Yin, Yang.
Chakra Energy: In life—SSSS+. Now, bound by the limitations of Impure World Reincarnation, his usable chakra was capped at “A” rank.
Bloodline Techniques:
Wood Release (S): From the Divine Tree’s remains, capable of draining enemy chakra to strengthen itself.
Natural Rinnegan (S): From the Sage’s remains, surpassing even the ordinary Rinnegan; its Susanoo outshone the Eternal Mangekyō Sharingan.
Eternal Mangekyō Sharingan (S): Reward from the Sage’s remains, granting unparalleled perception and illusion.
Battle Modes:
Curse Seal Mode: Natural energy absorbed through sacred-tree fragments to create seals that replenish chakra in battle.
Sage Mode: Perfect balance of physical, spiritual, and natural energy for heightened perception and power.
Six Paths Mode: Ultimate mastery of yin and yang, capable of wielding Truth-Seeking Orbs—but at the cost of breaking the Impure World Reincarnation and returning to death.
Skills:
Swordsmanship (S), Taijutsu (S), Medical Ninjutsu (S) capable of curing any illness in life (now restricted), and effortless mastery of all elemental releases without hand seals. His Summoning Pact with the slug of the Wet Bone Forest lay dormant under the Impure World’s seal. His ocular techniques—Kamui’s space-warping and Kanna’s mirror-like defense—were shadows of their true selves under these constraints.
Even weakened, Shihara’s power eclipsed that of most living shinobi. Simply casting jutsu without hand signs was an overwhelming advantage. With his Kekkei Genkai and the Six Paths Mode, he was a force of nature.
Yet he could not unleash his true strength in this borrowed body. He had been resurrected too soon.
His gaze shifted to Tobirama walking ahead. This was not a man easily deceived. He sought control over everything around him. Shihara had sensed it the moment he awoke. Tobirama had wanted to bind him but, being at heart a man of principle, had refrained.
A pity, Shihara thought. If some villain had used the Impure World Reincarnation on me, I might have manipulated them instead—used the Rinnegan fragment I left behind to return fully to life…
But that chance was gone. For now, all he could do was play along and wait.
Somewhere far away, he thought with a flicker of ironic nostalgia, Orochimaru was still years from birth. Yet even now Shihara felt the stirrings of future schemes—the missing serpent sage whose forbidden arts might one day grant him another path to freedom.
He exhaled slowly, centering himself. The chapter of his rebirth was only beginning.
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