In Uchiha Myō's dusty memories, six years ago when the clan grounds were attacked, Gin had awakened the legendary eyes of the Uchiha in his despair.

But due to excessive use all at once, his body was devastated by the backlash of his dōjutsu power, his genes almost completely collapsing.

Left with no choice, Tajima had ordered his eyes to be removed and transplanted into Uchiha Nameless, who was also being cultivated as a Mangekyō wielder. Gin, now blind, was implanted with an ordinary pair of eyes to calm the conflict raging in his body.

Who would have thought that six years later, this seemingly mediocre Gin would awaken the Sharingan again during an outside mission?

As a researcher, this defied belief. He'd even asked Uchiha En, who'd provided the eyes back then, and En had repeatedly assured him that Gin's transplanted eyes came from the corpse of an invader.

This only deepened his interest in Gin's eyes, which was why when they crossed paths on the street, he'd invited him in for a proper check-up.

"Before your Sharingan awakened, did your eyes ever feel uncomfortable?"

After years of human experiments, Uchiha Myō knew well that transplanting someone else's eyes usually caused rejection reactions.

Uncomfortable? Gin thought back and scoffed silently. From the moment he awakened, it felt amazing—better than his original pair.

"Not at all. Everything was normal before they awakened, no strange reactions."

Gin reported his condition truthfully.

No rejection at all? Uchiha Myō's brow furrowed.

From his research, even someone of Uchiha blood would have at least mild rejection after an eye transplant—let alone if the donor wasn't Uchiha.

"What level is your Sharingan now?"

Uchiha Myō changed the question.

Gin didn't answer—he simply willed his eyes to glow crimson, cold energy emanating from the three tomoe.

"Hmph, already three tomoe?"

For once, a flicker of surprise crossed Uchiha Myō's icy face. He remembered very clearly what kind of wreck that body had been six years ago. If they hadn't intervened in time, the backlash alone would have killed Gin a dozen times over.

"Just lucky," Gin replied humbly.

"Leave me a sample of your ocular tissue."

Uchiha Myō, after a moment's thought, handed over a set of sampling tools from his drawer. Gin silently nodded and got to work.

When he handed the collected sample back, his eyes were a little red.

"That's all for now. I'll send word when the results are in."

Uchiha Myō dismissed him without looking up.

Knowing better than to linger, Gin left without another word.

Stepping out of the research facility, Gin rubbed his empty stomach. He remembered he was down to just two meals a day lately. At this rate, his frail body wouldn't be able to support his brilliant soul.

No, this wouldn't do—he needed a proper meal.

But eating alone felt a little dull. Watching the bustling Uchiha street, a strange loneliness crept over Gin. As a stranger in this world, he realized he'd never really belonged.

Well, the original host had no family either—he didn't have to worry about maintaining family ties. A plus, he supposed, but occasionally it left him feeling empty.

Wandering toward the market, he was about to look for something to eat when he spotted a familiar figure in the crowd.

"Oi, boss, how much is this fish?"

Carrying his Isobu plushie as always, little Senju Itama was actually out shopping alone.

The market vendors were all protected by the Uchiha and paid taxes to operate here.

"Helping your folks shop, kid?"

The burly fishmonger was clearly just a normal outsider with no chakra.

"Yes!" Itama hugged his Isobu doll, staring longingly at the fat fish and already imagining how delicious it'd taste sweet-and-sour.

"Haha, what a capable kid! Already running errands at your age!"

The fishmonger chuckled and, seeing how intently Itama was staring at the fish, offered:

"Half price for you, kid."

"Really? Thanks, boss!"

Beaming, Itama clutched his half-price fish and happily headed home.

But before he'd gone far, he bumped into a tall figure, nearly dropping his prize.

"Whose kid are you?"

The man looked down coldly, seeing the fan crest on Itama's borrowed Uchiha clothes and mistaking him for clan.

"I… I…"

Itama froze, clutching his Isobu plushie tightly, trembling with nervousness.

The Uchiha's sharp gaze swept up and down the little boy suspiciously.

"Oi, oi, you brat! What took you so long to buy one fish?"

Watching from a distance, Gin finally stepped in.

"You're…"

The Uchiha man glanced at Gin, his expression instantly souring with disgust.

"Keep your little brat in line. Don't go running into people."

Throwing that out, he stalked off.

"Come on, let's go home."

Gin sighed and spoke gently to the silent Itama behind him.

The two of them walked back in silence.

Gin glanced at the sullen little one behind him. This was on him, really—he was the one who told the kid he could go shopping.

He hadn't expected that even with his dyed-black hair, Itama would still draw suspicion.

"From now on, if anyone asks, just say you're Uchiha Gin's kid. No one will bother you."

Gin thought for a moment and advised him calmly.

"?"

Itama looked up, startled. He'd expected Gin to lock him up after this incident, not tell him to go out openly as his family.

"Hmph. Your kid? Dream on. Why don't you come join the Senju and be my kid?"

But the pride of the Senju didn't allow him to back down. The Senju were hard-headed—hard from head to toe.

"Not hungry for fish anymore?"

Gin rolled his eyes at the brat's stubborn words and unleashed his trump card. Dealing with a kid was nothing.

"Uuugh, fine! Not the foster father card again!"

(End of Chapter)

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