On the training ground, Makoto raised an eyebrow, walked over, squatted down, looked at Sasuke splayed out in infant-like sleep, and clicked his tongue lightly.
"Told you not to get excited, stay calm, but you just wouldn't listen."
Izumi ran over from the sidelines, the hem of her clothes stirring a wave of gardenia scent.
She squatted down to check Sasuke's condition. After confirming he was fine, she looked up and met Makoto's eyes.
The sunlight reflected in his pupils, making the Two Tomoe Sharingan appear even more mystical, setting his eyes ablaze as if tempered with starlight. His handsome face made it hard for her to look away.
Makoto's level of good looks was in a league of its own even within the Uchiha Clan. Izumi couldn't help but stare, slightly mesmerized.
"Stunned?" Makoto waved a hand in front of her.
Izumi snapped back to reality, the tips of her ears instantly turning bright red, even the roots flushing pink. Her fingers, clutching her clothes, curled slightly: "N-no."
The corner of Makoto's mouth lifted slightly. He reached out, scooped Sasuke up, and hoisted him onto his back.
Sunny Pillar looked thin, but he was quite heavy on his back. Makoto instinctively hitched Sasuke's legs higher to avoid choking him.
Sasuke's head lolled on Makoto's shoulder, and he muttered unconsciously: "I must make Makoto mend his ways... With no women in the heart, drawing the sword becomes divine! He said that himself..."
His little fist was also unconsciously clenched tightly.
Izumi followed beside them, watching Makoto carry Sasuke forward. She glanced again at the strikingly bright Two Tomoe Sharingan Makoto had shown on the training ground, now concealed, the crimson faded.
That straight back was already carrying his younger brother.
The little guy in her memory who always loved sticking close and being affectionate seemed to have truly grown up inadvertently.
Makoto waved to Izumi and the other clansmen, said goodbye, and carried Sasuke home.
The setting sun stretched their shadows long, dragging two intersecting trails on the bluestone path.
Makoto's steps weren't fast, stopping from time to time to free a hand and hitched Sasuke's slipping body back up.
A gentle breeze, carrying the dust and floral scent from the training ground, swept past, pushing this shadow slowly into the clan compound.
…
After returning home, Makoto tossed Sasuke onto the bed, clapped his hands, and turned to leave.
Itachi would take care of Sasuke when he returned.
Not long after he got back, a clansman hurried to his door, bowing from afar: "Makoto-sama, the Great Elder requests your presence."
The man's waist was bent like a fully drawn bow. As he spoke, his Adam's apple bobbed, the respect in his eyes almost overflowing.
This was entirely due to the talent Makoto had displayed, earning him such deference. The Uchiha Clan had always revered strength above all. Without talent, even the Clan Head's children didn't have many privileges.
Unlike some clans, especially the Hyuga Clan, where the status of the Main and Branch families was worlds apart.
Makoto slowly stood up: "Understood."
After greeting Mikoto, who was busy in the kitchen, Makoto followed the clansman deeper into the compound.
The closer they got to the area where the elders lived, the stronger the scent of sandalwood in the air, mixed with the smell of old wood, exuding a heavy solemnity.
The courtyard of the Uchiha Clan's Great Elder wasn't much different from those of ordinary clansmen. The old locust tree at the gate was lush and leafy, casting a large shadow.
When the door was pushed open, the wooden hinge let out a dull 'creak'.
The conversation in the room instantly ceased.
Several white-haired old men were sitting together drinking tea. When Makoto entered, the eyes of the eldest Great Elder, though cloudy, were full of gratification.
Currently, he was the one within the Uchiha Clan advocating for directly replacing Fugaku as Clan Head and installing the just-over-three-year-old Makoto.
But this decision was too outrageous, and even with the Great Elder's prestige, it hadn't passed yet.
It was discussed in clan meetings. As for the efficiency of Uchiha Clan's meetings... let's just say even a dog would shake its head hearing about it.
Makoto always couldn't be bothered to attend.
Anyway, topics raised over half a year ago were still being debated now, with no result whatsoever.
Makoto didn't stand on ceremony with them. He walked directly to the empty seat next to the head position, sat down, crossed his legs, the tip of his shoe almost brushing the hem of the Third Elder's clothes beside him.
The Third Elder's brows knitted. Just as he was about to say something, the Great Elder stopped him with a stern look.
"Makoto, we heard from clansmen that you awakened the Two Tomoe Sharingan?"
As soon as the Great Elder's voice fell, his thin, withered fingers lightly rubbed on his knee, knuckles turning white from the pressure.
The dim oil lamp cast mottled shadows on his wrinkled face. Those cloudy eyes held barely concealed anticipation.
Makoto didn't respond immediately. The moment he lowered his gaze, two flashes of crimson suddenly rose in his eyes.
Two tomoe appeared in his pupils, like two drops of blood fallen on black silk, demonic and carrying an indescribable flamboyance.
The oil lamp's light danced in fine spots on the tomoe, making that red even more dazzling.
Even the contours of Makoto's profile were tinged with a strange warmth… both the clear handsomeness of youth and the inherent intimidation of the Sharingan.
"Just luck," Makoto said lightly.
"Good! Good! Good!"
The Great Elder slapped his knee three times sharply, the old wooden couch groaning 'creakily;' from the vibration.
"Makoto, you have the makings of a Hokage!"
These words were like a stone thrown into boiling water; the room instantly erupted.
The Second Elder beside him stroked his graying beard, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes piling up into folds as he smiled.
Within the Uchiha Clan, the word 'Hokage' was an obsession weighing on their hearts.
Since the day the Uchiha and Senju Clans jointly founded the village, they had always hoped for a Hokage to emerge from their clan. But this wish drifted for decades without a shadow.
Only now, seeing the Two Tomoe spinning in Makoto's eyes at such a young age, along with his record of confronting Danzo, did that deeply buried hope finally gain substance, breaking through the soil like a spring sprout.
"If there's anything the clan can assist with, just speak up!" The Second Elder leaned forward, his tone earnest.
The Great Elder also spoke: "All the strong members of the clan are at your disposal. They can serve as your guards, or teach you Ninjutsu, Taijutsu, Genjutsu..."
Makoto laughed inwardly: 'It's finally here.'
He leaned back against the chairback. The wooden chair made a light click. The rough ceramic cup on the table wafted a faint tea scent, the cheapest coarse tea in the clan.
Rumor had it the Great Elder's entire stipend went to clansmen in need. Seeing this, Makoto believed the rumor is true.
Makoto picked up the teacup and took a sip. The tea carried a slight astringency as it slid down his throat.
"I don't have many other hobbies, I just like money, so..."
Makoto's words trailed off; saying more would be impolite.
The Second Elder was stunned for a moment, then laughed: "All the clan's businesses, assets, including every clansman's contributions are managed by Fugaku. Regarding this matter..."
"We have no objections. You go directly to him and ask. If Fugaku agrees, it's fine."
Hearing this, Makoto's brows instantly knitted into a frown. He had long inquired about this and had approached Fugaku for money not just once, but the old guy was utterly uncooperative.
Each time, he refused, using Makoto's young age and not needing so much money as an excuse. Even when Makoto threatened him, he wouldn't compromise.
As if with money, Makoto would immediately run off to a brothel or something. Who knows what he was worried about.
So Makoto had decided long ago that the first thing he'd do upon becoming Clan Head was reassign Fugaku to toilet cleaning.
Thinking of this, Makoto pursed his lips, his tone full of dissatisfaction: "The Clan Head is very stingy, simply unwilling to give me money..."
He didn't finish, but it was like a needle popping the room's enthusiasm.
The smile on the Second Elder's face stiffened. His hand paused on his beard. If the clan wouldn't provide funds, should he provide them privately? How could that be allowed?
The Great Elder opened his mouth, but ultimately just sighed, his thin fingers curling… his pockets were cleaner than his face, so he really had no grounds to respond.
The Third Elder suddenly cleared his throat and said primly: "Makoto, that's not right!"
"The Three Shinobi Prohibitions clearly state one must be cautious about money matters! You're so young, and your mind should be on training. What's with this constant thinking about money?"
The Third Elder spoke without feeling the pinch. Makoto glanced at him and decided that when he became Clan Head, he'd assign this Third Elder to clean toilets alongside Fugaku.
If he refused, he'd send him to Amegakure as a spy to gather intelligence.
Seeing this, the Second Elder quickly stepped in to smooth things over, rambling about unimportant topics. Makoto, lacking interest, simply bid farewell to the Great Elder and left.
The evening breeze, carrying the scent of locust blossoms, brushed past his nose. Makoto looked towards the lit houses deep in the compound.
Moonlight flowing from the eaves dripped over the window lattice, landing on Makoto's open palm.
Makoto suddenly smiled.
When a genius is young, you don't think about watering and fertilizing, just prepare to brush off with a few words, and then expect to reap the benefits when the genius grows up?
Daydreaming isn't done like that. But perhaps this is better.
He wouldn't owe these people any favors, saving him from being shackled with 'clan building' in the future. If anyone's words didn't sit right with him later, he wouldn't give them any respect.
He didn't want to stay in Konoha for even one more day. He planned to take advantage of the upcoming village turmoil in a few days and make a run for it.
In the following days, time moved as unhurriedly as the old locust tree by the training ground, the very wind carrying a lazy warmth.
Makoto went to learn Taijutsu from Izumi from time to time, mastering the 'Otsutsuki Elbow Strike' with great proficiency.
Until this morning, when hurried footsteps ground against the bluestones in the alley.
Makoto was woken by the noise and saw the Police Force patrolling all over the compound. He went out to ask and found out.
"The Kumogakure's envoy coming to Konoha to establish the ceasefire agreement has arrived."