On the way, Uchiha Mikoto couldn't stop complaining about her experiences within the clan. An outstanding jōnin who refused to go to the battlefield to earn war merits and compete for the position of the next Hokage had instead come to the Police Force to serve as her captain.
"His intentions are obvious to everyone," Bai Xing muttered, borrowing an old idiom.
"Who's Sima Zhao?" Mikoto asked.
"Nothing—just a very obscure historical figure. You probably haven't heard of him."
After a pause, Bai Xing added, "So, how do you feel about this?"
That question instantly left Mikoto speechless as they walked toward the hospital.
The former black-haired, straight-banged tsundere young lady had gained a touch of maturity now.
"Then why don't you date anyone, Bai Xing-sensei?" she countered.
Bai Xing gave her a deadpan look and glanced at the girl—almost two heads shorter than him, flat as a board, with nothing particularly stimulating about her appearance.
"How can a teacher get married before finishing his career?"
"Besides," he continued calmly, "I don't even have a partner. Getting married this early—with my savings, I couldn't afford it."
"Just look at Dai. He borrowed two hundred thousand ryō from me just to have a child."
"Leaving aside Miss Rin's hospital and surgery fees, things like nutrition supplements, milk powder, diapers—none of that is cheap."
"My savings really can't handle that kind of spending~"
"…I kind of miss the days when you all helped me earn money."
Hearing the first part, Mikoto nearly blurted out I'll support you, but that last sentence almost made her stumble face-first into the shallow snow.
Squish—
A sharp pain shot through Bai Xing's toes, making him suck in a breath.
"Why did you step on me?"
"You tell me, you trash-fish teacher!"
After stepping on him, Mikoto felt much better. She folded her arms, quickened her pace, and muttered in a voice only she could hear:
"…I miss it too."
"What was that?"
"Nothing. I said you're an idiot."
"Hey—this is how you talk to your teacher?!"
Laughing and bickering, the two continued down the street toward Konoha Hospital.
By a wall and a utility pole, a sleek-furred cat—clearly a domesticated one—quietly watched their retreating figures.
After they walked far away, the cat suddenly moved like a ninja, leaping agilely and vaulting over the wall.
Its destination: the Uchiha compound.
Such cats were common there. After all, the Uchiha clan maintained a long-standing contract with the ninja cats fostered by Granny Nekomata.
Inside a residence.
The ninja cat landed neatly in an elderly man's arms and softly reported what it had seen.
"Thank you, Kuro," the old man said.
The black cat meowed. "No problem, Old Man Kenshi."
Uchiha Kenshi took out dried fish prepared earlier and fed it to his contracted ninja cat. Kuro let out a delighted cry, grabbed the fish, and gnawed on it enthusiastically atop the beige tatami.
After eating for a while, Kuro noticed the old man's silence and meowed again.
"What's wrong? Something troubling you?"
The white-haired elder sighed, holding his teacup and staring at the ripples in the green tea.
"Actually…
The clan head spoke to me recently. He wants Fugaku and Mikoto to be paired together."
"That's a good thing, meow~ The clan head's family and the elder's family uniting—wouldn't that make the Uchiha even more united, meow~?"
"That's what I think too," Kenshi said quietly.
"The problem is Mikoto's own feelings."
Kuro finally understood. The girl didn't like Fugaku.
Kenshi's voice carried guilt.
"I raised Mikoto myself. Her parents went to the battlefield… and never returned."
"I really don't want her to lose even the right to choose her own happiness."
"Then just refuse, meow~"
Kenshi rolled his eyes, suddenly remembering that he was talking to a cat whose life revolved around eating and occasionally discussing biology with female village cats.
"…Forget it. Why am I telling you all this?"
"I'll think about it more."
At this moment, two paths lay before him—
First: help Mikoto become a jōnin as soon as possible. While he was still alive, she could gain a voice among the Uchiha moderates.
But in the current situation, becoming a jōnin meant being sent straight to the extremely dangerous front lines.
Second: simply—
Outside, over Konoha's skies, the fog thickened and the snowfall grew heavier.
Elsewhere within the Uchiha compound, in another residence, a Police Force squad leader was reporting to another clan elder—slightly younger than Kenshi, yet still well past his prime.
After listening, the man's gaunt face curved into a cold expression. Unlike Kenshi's formal kneeling posture, he sat cross-legged on the tatami with casual arrogance.
"I understand."
"You may go."
"Call Keima for me."
"Yes, Elder Setsuna!"
After the tokubetsu jōnin squad leader left, the man—wearing a thick coat—stepped into the corridor to admire the snow.
Snowflakes drifted down. The courtyard greenery that had been lush not long ago was now reduced to brown trunks capped with white.
"Uchiha Mikoto…"
"She will be the key to whether the Uchiha clan survives in the future."
After visiting Might Dai and his wife—and the newly born little Guy—Mikoto even reached out and gently touched the baby, praising him as someone who would surely become an excellent ninja like his father. This sparked laughter from Nawaki and Nono.
At Mikoto's insistence, Bai Xing escorted her all the way to the entrance of the Uchiha district.
Not long after Mikoto left, Bai Xing prepared to head home for dinner.
At that moment, the street—and even the surrounding environment—suddenly fell unnaturally silent.
"Genjutsu?!"
Realizing he had been caught in an illusion, Bai Xing was about to disrupt his chakra to break it—when a sudden thought struck him.
The kind of ninja capable of making him fall into genjutsu so easily belonged to only one clan.
"No need to be nervous, Genin Bai Xing. I merely wish to have a word with you."
A voice sounded from very close behind him.
Bai Xing slid forward, boots scraping across the illusory ground, putting distance between them before turning around.
This kind of freely constructed, discreet illusionary space was something only Uchiha shinobi could accomplish.
"I was careless," Bai Xing admitted inwardly.
Relaxing too much lately had allowed him to be caught by a Sharingan hypnosis technique inside the village itself.
He raised his gaze and looked calmly at the man before him.
The young man wore Konoha's green flak jacket, with the Police Force's distinctive uniform underneath.
"Jōnin Fugaku."
"I didn't expect you to make a move against me."
"As far as I know, you're not a spy, are you?"
Fugaku burst out laughing at Bai Xing's words, then laughed even harder.
Bai Xing's expression remained composed, showing no fear whatsoever.
In wartime, openly killing one's own village shinobi—unless Fugaku wanted to die—was impossible.
After a while, Fugaku's laughter faded. Looking at Bai Xing's unwavering calm, he silently raised Bai Xing's danger rating several notches.
"Impressive."
"Trapped in genjutsu, your life in my hands—yet you remain completely unfazed."
"Worthy of a genin with a perfect mission record who's even served as a team instructor."
Then Fugaku's tone grew heavy.
"However."
"You should not set your sights on Mikoto."
"The Uchiha clan will not allow outstanding shinobi to marry outsiders."
"Especially…"
"Someone like you, who has never even become a chūnin."
Bai Xing: "..."
Are you out of your damn mind?
Mikoto is twelve. You're nineteen. Seven years apart. Something I wouldn't even dare think about—and you're saying this with righteous conviction?!
Bai Xing sighed helplessly. "Then what exactly do you want, Jōnin Fugaku?"
"I'm merely warning you not to harbor improper thoughts."
"I have no intention of doing anything to you."
As a genius jōnin of the Uchiha clan, Fugaku disdained using force to suppress a genin who couldn't even advance to chūnin.
"That's all I have to say."
"Whoever you choose from other clans, I will wish you well."
"But Mikoto—and other outstanding Uchiha—"
"Do not think about them."
"Mediocrity is the final destination of civilian shinobi."
As he spoke, ripples appeared across the street beneath them—the illusion beginning to dissolve.
Before it fully broke, Fugaku spoke again:
"I've seen too many civilian shinobi."
"They all had a bit of unique talent—just like you."
"But that little bit is not enough to become an outstanding ninja, much less a so-called genius."
"The ninja world is cruel and realistic."
"No one cares whether your talent ever fully matures. All they see is whether you become another cold corpse on the battlefield."
"Or lose your talent…"
"And fade into a forgotten corner of history."
Images flashed through Fugaku's mind—young, promising shinobi who had lost limbs, lost their minds, or lost their will entirely.
"So tell me, Genin Bai Xing."
"How far do you think you can go?"
The illusion shattered.
Bai Xing stood once more in the middle of the street, surrounded by familiar sounds—voices from nearby homes, vendors calling out, passersby chatting.
A few seconds later, as if just waking from the illusion, Bai Xing smiled faintly.
"No matter what you say, I will walk to the very end."
"Without fail."
Whether Fugaku heard him or not, Bai Xing continued forward with steady steps.
More importantly, he was starving.
That bastard really just used his three-tomoe Sharingan to show off—and sneak in some creepy lolicon energy.
Believe it or not, I'll submit this to the village newspaper tomorrow.
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