Naruto: Mixed Heritage(Rewrite)

Renjiro's crimson Sharingan spun lazily in the mirror's reflection as he leaned over the porcelain sink, his hands gripping the edges with quiet intensity.

The first rays of sunlight filtered through the small window to his side, bathing his face in a golden glow that softened the edges of his sharp jawline. The interplay of light and shadow danced across his features, highlighting his furrowed brow as he tilted his head from side to side.

"My eye is fully healed now," he muttered, his voice echoing faintly in the quiet room.

He moved closer to the mirror, tilting his head at different angles as he inspected his eye. His Sharingan gleamed with an eerie vibrancy, its tomoe swirling faintly as if testing its own reactivation.

Renjiro released a breath he hadn't realized he was holding, relief washing over him.

'It took longer this time,' he thought grimly.

It was a detail he couldn't ignore. His regenerative abilities had always come in clutch in this particular operation of his. While they allowed his eyes to recover after being removed, Renjiro noted that the time between each regeneration grew longer with every iteration. A part of him had always known there was a limit, a catch to this loophole. Today's delay confirmed that it wasn't without consequences.

He sighed, letting his hands drop to his sides. The weight of his actions settled heavily on his shoulders, but his resolve remained unshaken. "Then it seems it's time to go to the private library," he muttered, turning away from the mirror.

Renjiro moved to his wardrobe, pulling out his usual attire. Today, however, he made a deliberate choice. Normally, he avoided clothes branded with the Uchiha crest, preferring to keep his identity as a clan member understated.

But as he reached for the black shirt emblazoned with the iconic fan symbol, he hesitated only briefly before slipping it on.

His ensemble was as practical as it was minimal: black pants, a black long-sleeved shirt, and a green flak jacket that marked his status as a jōnin.

The dark hues complemented the crimson of his red hair, though the vivid Uchiha crest on his back added a rare splash of contrast. He tied his black forehead protector around his neck like a loose collar, the reflective plate catching the morning light as he adjusted it into place.

'If I'm walking into the heart of the clan's secrets, I might as well embrace the image,' he thought with a faint smirk.

Despite his preparations, a pang of reluctance lingered. He could have gone to the library earlier, even with his eye still regenerating. But walking into one of the most heavily guarded places in the Uchiha compound under a transformation jutsu would have raised too many questions. It wasn't worth the trouble.

The Uchiha clan's private library was a masterpiece of traditional architecture, nestled deep within the clan's compound. Its façade was modest, almost unassuming, but Renjiro knew its underground chambers held secrets spanning generations. He descended the stone steps leading to the library, the cool air brushing against his face as the dimly lit corridor swallowed him whole.

Pushing open the heavy wooden door, Renjiro stepped into the main chamber. The room was vast, lined with towering shelves packed with scrolls and ancient tomes. A faint smell of aged parchment and ink filled the air, mingling with the subtle scent of sandalwood.

Behind a low wooden desk sat an elderly woman. Her silver hair was tied into a tight bun, though a few strands had escaped to frame her lined face. Her posture was slightly hunched, and she wore a plain robe marked with the Uchiha crest. Her eyes, though sharp, lacked warmth, and her thin lips pressed into a neutral line as she noticed Renjiro.

Renjiro's brow furrowed slightly. 'Hmm?... This wasn't the person I met the last time I was here.' He recalled an old man, similarly dressed, but definitely not this woman.

"Good morning," the woman greeted, her tone polite but her smile not quite reaching her eyes.

"Good morning," Renjiro replied, offering a faint smile of his own.

Her gaze lingered on him for a moment before she asked, "How can I assist you today?"

Renjiro hesitated briefly, then responded, "I'm here to study a certain matter."

The woman raised an eyebrow. "And what might that be?"

Renjiro's eyes narrowed slightly as he debated how much to reveal. Realizing there was no way around the question, he sighed. "I want to study how to evolve my eyes."

The woman's reaction was immediate. Her eyes widened slightly, and her hands paused mid-motion as she reached for a scroll. "Evolve... your eyes?" she echoed, her voice tinged with disbelief.

"Yes," Renjiro said firmly, his tone leaving no room for doubt.

The woman's expression hardened, though she quickly masked it with a measured response. "I'm afraid that won't be possible," she said, her voice calm but resolute.

While the Uchiha clan respected power, some of them, who were conservatives, frowned upon any evolution of their clan's kekkei genkai. Yes, it gave them heaven-defying abilities but what they frowned upon was the method of getting the said power/abilities. Unfortunately for Renjiro, this one belonged to the conservative group.

Renjiro tilted his head, feigning ignorance. "Why not?"

She hesitated, then explained, "Such knowledge is restricted. Access is granted only to those who have made significant contributions to the clan."

Renjiro's confusion deepened. "Please check again," he urged, his tone carrying a note of irritation.

'That's strange. Daichi promised me full access to the library,'

It was for his snitching capacity about the Anbu which Renjiro rebranded as information brokering.

The woman's lips thinned as she muttered under her breath, "Renjiro Uzumaki..." She scanned the records in front of her, her expression shifting from annoyance to alarm as she read further.

"Well?" Renjiro prompted.

The woman straightened slightly, her eyes narrowing. "It appears you do have access. However, it's an unusual case."

"Unusual how?"

"The permission was granted directly by the clan head," she admitted reluctantly.

Renjiro smirked. "Then I suppose there's no issue."

The woman's gaze remained sceptical. "Even so, I recommend speaking with Daichi-sama before proceeding."

Renjiro's smirk faded, replaced by a blank stare.

The woman stiffened, her fingers tightening around the edge of her desk as she glanced at Renjiro's records once more. "I should mention," she began, her voice carrying a hint of unease, "I've only recently returned to this position. It seems that while I was away, Daichi-sama made certain... changes regarding access to specific information in the library. I wasn't aware of these changes until now."

Renjiro's crimson eyes studied her carefully, searching for any signs of deception. The slight crack in her demeanour, however, told him she was likely telling the truth.

"Fair enough," he said, crossing his arms. "In that case, could you direct me to the section containing forbidden jutsu?"

The woman's breath hitched, her surprise visible as she straightened in her seat. "Forbidden jutsu?" she repeated, the words hanging heavy in the air.

Renjiro gave a single nod, his expression impassive. "Yes. That's where I need to be."

Her brow furrowed, and she hesitated, clearly weighing the implications of his request. Finally, she exhaled slowly and gestured toward the hall behind her. "Follow that hall to the right. Take the second stairwell down."

The corridor leading to the forbidden techniques area was dimly lit, the flickering torches casting elongated shadows on the walls. Renjiro's footsteps echoed softly as he made his way down the spiralling staircase, the air growing colder with each step.

The room at the bottom was smaller than he'd expected, but it exuded an air of secrecy. Scrolls lined the shelves, each labelled with warnings about the dangers of the knowledge they contained.

Renjiro scanned the titles, his fingers brushing against the worn parchment. He selected two scrolls which he unfurled and quickly memorised before returning them back where he found them.

Renjiro then made his way back toward the library's entrance. As he passed the old woman, she gave him a scrutinizing look but said nothing.

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