Three old men—the Third Hokage and his Anbu guards—watched the figure on the roof with reserved curiosity. The boy named Mikami seemed utterly absorbed in examining his own spotless clothing, a faint, dry smile on his lips. Then his gaze shifted downward to his own slightly scorched sleeves, and his expression turned peculiar.
The Third Hokage, of course, had no way of knowing Mikami had just failed in a ninjutsu attempt.
"So that is the Kaleidoscope Sharingan… One of the Three Great Dojutsu indeed," the Hokage murmured under his breath.
As they approached, the Anbu flanking him instinctively tensed, their bodies shifting protectively closer to their leader. Their eyes were locked on Mikami's unusual pupils, movements cautious and postures defensive. The boy appeared harmless—a mere ten-year-old—but they knew all too well that in the world of shinobi, appearances were the most deceptive armor.
Seeing this, the Third Hokage's brow creased slightly, a flash of displeasure in his eyes. Yet he did not raise his voice, speaking to the shadows beside him with calm authority. "Your mission is complete. Return to your posts."
"But, Lord Third—"
"Enough. This is your Hokage's command."
For the usually obedient Anbu—who lived by orders and duty—to hesitate now sparked genuine ire in the old man. His gentle grandfatherly demeanor hardened, replaced by a sharp, dangerous aura that brooked no argument. There was even a sliver of killing intent lacing his tone.
The four Anbu exchanged glances, retreating a step almost against their will. They had never seen the Third lose his temper like this. Without another word, they vanished in successive shunshin.
The Third Hokage sighed quietly once they were gone. He knew their defiance came from loyalty, so he had rebuked but not punished.
"You sent your guards away quite confidently, old man. They were only looking out for you."
Mikami dropped lightly from the roof, landing without a sound. His tone was casual, almost playful, carrying neither deference nor hostility—as though speaking to an equal rather than the leader of the village.
The Third Hokage didn't take offense. He smiled calmly. "I know they meant well."
He trusted his Anbu. Still, he shook his head. "But I believe you mean me no harm. And even if you did… those four would have been unable to stop you. They would only have become casualties."
That much was clear to him. He still hadn't fully grasped the light-manipulating ability Mikami had displayed earlier. And now, with the Kaleidoscope Sharingan activated… even if he himself intervened, the outcome would be far from certain.
"I'm curious."
Mikami studied the old Hokage, a faint frown touching his brow. Where did this unshakable confidence come from? How could he be so sure?
He decided to voice it outright. "What makes you so certain I won't harm you? You know the history between Uchiha and Konoha. Even if I've broken ties with the clan today… how can you be sure this isn't some elaborate scheme? A tragic play staged by the Uchiha to plant a spy within Konoha's upper ranks?"
His words were measured, deliberate. As he spoke, he allowed his killing intent to seep into the air—cold, focused, and unmistakable. Was the Third's confidence born of trust in Mikami's character… or trust in his own ability to survive an encounter?
The old Hokage simply continued to smile, utterly unfazed by the murderous aura. A distant, reminiscent look entered his eyes.
"What's so funny? Do you think I'm joking?"
Mikami's eyes narrowed. The tomoe in his Kaleidoscope Sharingan swirled slowly, emitting a cold, mysterious ripple of energy.
His youthful frame seemed to radiate an immeasurable pressure. Chakra surged around him, a luminous golden substance spilling from his body like sacred light, piercing the darkness of the night.
"This chakra… I never thought I'd see this technique again in my lifetime. And in a child of ten, no less. How unpredictable this world is."
The Third Hokage watched the golden chakra envelop Mikami, a sigh escaping his lips. His aged eyes glimmered with recognition before growing distant, lost in memory.
Before him, the golden chakra rapidly coalesced, wrapping around Mikami in a thick, skeletal frame—a ribcage of luminous energy.
This chakra felt unusual, heavy with a sinister, almost calamitous presence. If he closed his eyes and relied on sensation alone, the Third might have believed a tailed beast stood before him. Only those entities radiated such concentrated negativity.
"So it's Susanoo… Truly astonishing, Mikami. I never imagined your Susanoo would be gold."
The Hokage showed no surprise. In this world, he was among the handful who had witnessed Uchiha Madara's might. In terms of seniority, only Ōnoki of Iwa could compare. Most others could only speak of such power in legends.
Though Mikami's Susanoo—merely a skeletal ribcage—was a far cry from the colossal, fully-formed avatar of Uchiha Madara, its presence was undeniable.
"The color of Susanoo reflects its user. Everyone's is different," Mikami explained softly. Madara's was a deep blue, Shisui's a fiery crimson, Itachi's a solemn purple—each unique until their final, perfected forms.
Yet regardless of its stage, Susanoo was synonymous with divine destruction, the very embodiment of overwhelming power. Even an incomplete one could bring despair to those who faced it.
---
Author's Note: Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed this chapter, please consider leaving a like, comment, or rating. Your support helps immensely. I aim to provide consistent updates—today marks the first daily release. Stay tuned for more!