The celebration continued well into the evening.
Itsuki stood in the center of the hall as elders and jonin approached one after another. Scrolls, sealed envelopes, lacquered boxes—each was placed into his hands with measured words of encouragement.
The room felt different now.
Not festive.
Expectant.
As the elders spoke, Itsuki noticed something else—subtle, internal.
Each time he affirmed their hopes, each time he allowed his composure to remain steady beneath their scrutiny, a faint resonance stirred within him.
Not a voice.
Not instructions.
A tightening of chakra.
A feedback of will against pressure.
The more intense the attention around him, the sharper that sensation became.
When he had displayed his strength before children at the Academy, the response had been faint.
Here, surrounded by seasoned shinobi, the sensation was stronger—deeper.
Itsuki filed that observation away.
So intent amplifies under weight.
Interesting.
Another quiet surge passed through him. His chakra condensed slightly, stabilizing at a higher density than before. The Sharingan's presence behind his eyelids felt more defined, its pattern clearer in his mind's eye.
But there was no explosive leap this time.
Just steady consolidation.
That was fine.
Rapid ascent attracted danger.
Gradual reinforcement built foundation.
He accepted another scroll and bowed politely.
By the time the gathering dispersed, night had settled over the Uchiha compound.
Kazuma remained seated a while longer, speaking quietly with Hayato and Fugaku. Their tones were low, serious.
Itsuki did not need to hear the words.
He understood the theme.
Opportunity.
Risk.
Politics.
When he finally returned home with his parents, his arms were lighter. Uchiha Kaede had claimed the envelopes earlier with an affectionate smile and a firm declaration.
"You don't need this much money at five. I'll keep it safe. When you're older."
She had left him with a single thousand-ryō note for "weekly expenses."
Itsuki stared at the bill now in his bedroom.
So this is how fortunes disappear.
Several hundred thousand ryō had likely passed through his hands that evening.
Now he held one.
He exhaled.
At least it was enough for ten bowls of miso chashu ramen at Ichiraku.
Perspective matters.
He placed the note carefully inside a small drawer and turned to the remaining gifts.
Scrolls lay stacked neatly on his desk.
Those, at least, had not been confiscated.
He selected one at random and unfurled it.
Fire Release techniques.
C-rank Fire Dragon Technique.
B-rank Fire Dragon Flame Bullet.
Variations on Great Fireball and Phoenix Flower Jutsu.
Generous.
He moved to the next scroll.
A genjutsu compilation. Well-structured. Practical.
Another contained the Body Flicker Technique.
Basic.
But fundamentals scaled with chakra control.
He considered that.
If his reserves continued to increase at this pace, even foundational techniques would gain new dimensions.
One scroll made him pause.
Shadow Clone Technique.
He traced the formula carefully.
High chakra consumption. Divided evenly between clones. Feedback upon dispelling.
For most genin, wasteful.
For someone whose reserves were already edging toward chūnin level—
Viable.
Itsuki sat back slowly.
His thoughts turned inward.
Mangekyō Sharingan.
The natural progression beyond three tomoe.
He knew the price of that power.
Blindness.
Unless—
He considered the known methods.
Transplantation between siblings to achieve the Eternal Mangekyō.
Or integration with Hashirama Senju's cells to mitigate deterioration.
Neither option was simple.
Neither was clean.
He did not allow the thought to linger long.
For now, three tomoe was more than enough.
Ambition without preparation leads to ruin.
He extinguished the lantern and lay back on his futon.
Outside, the compound was quiet.
Within that silence, Itsuki allowed himself a single, private conclusion.
Today, the clan saw a prodigy.
Tomorrow, the village will see a threat.
If I am to survive what lies ahead, I must grow stronger without losing control.
Not recklessly.
Not loudly.
But undeniably.
The future would not change for sentiment.
Only for strength.