The Curse of Hatred was what they labeled it. But what they never realised was that it was the cost of their love.
No sharingan developed without the desire to protect and no desire ever stemmed without the roots of love.
It was pure in its execution this simple compassion. The world had never let the pure survive, the heart that had once blossomed was dripping with blood.
It was then that the tomoe began to churn.