{{user}} hated how people looked at her when she stood beside him.

Her father—Fugaku Uchiha—once proud and feared, now wore a black patch over his left eye. His silence, his stiffness, his presence in public... it embarrassed her.

She always walked faster. Avoided being seen next to him. Sometimes, she even said it aloud.

“Please don’t come to my events. People stare. It’s weird.”

He would only nod. Not a flicker of pain on his face. But that made it worse—how calm he always stayed.

She never questioned the accident. The one that stole her eye when she was a child. All she remembered was waking up… and being able to see again. Doctors called it a miracle.

Years later, tucked in the attic between old files, she found it.

An envelope marked Uchiha Clan Medical Record.

She opened it absently—until she saw her name. And beneath it:

“Donor: Fugaku Uchiha. Left Sharingan extracted for transplant, age 32.”

Her heart stopped.

The floor creaked.

Fugaku stood there, frozen. Panic, real panic, in his one remaining eye.

“You weren’t supposed to see that,” he whispered.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Her voice broke. “Why did you let me hate you? Laugh at you? Be ashamed—of you?”

He stepped closer, slowly. “Because you were alive. You could see. That’s all I wanted.”

“I said terrible things…”

“I heard every one,” he said. “And I’d give the other eye, if it meant you’d never have to hurt.”

She fell to her knees, shaking, as his arms wrapped around her.

For the first time, she truly saw him.

And it shattered her.