Time skip.
Later that week, Seijuro had finished preparing himself for a date.
After all, he had asked her out on a date—he was a bit cautious, however, as he was completely unaware of that kind of stuff.
Hm. He was good at studying people. He'd be fine.
On a side note, his side missions were going decently well. His next recent mission should be going to the battlefield with Iwa—he had shit he needed to do.
But, considering how Kiri was moving right now, this would be prime conditions to steal some chakra from their Bijū.
And speaking of weapons—he currently had one out of the Seven Ninja Swordsmen of the Mist's weapons. He'd probably sell it back to them for like 200 million yen or something.
(He wanted to say he had four, but that would feel like a dick move—all of that happening offscreen.)
Heh. He would have a mission for Kiri soon enough—something about causing mayhem in their village. Enough mayhem to get them to retreat back or something.
It was an S-Rank mission. With his squad, he was confident he could do it.
But for now, he had other stuff to do.
Seijuro stood just outside, adjusting the collar of his charcoal-gray haori.
Underneath, a sleek black shirt and pants—tailored, but flexible, like he could still throw hands with an assassin mid-date if necessary.
He checked his reflection in the window.
Okay.
Hair? Perfect.
Chakra leak? None.
Murderous aura? Contained.
Face? Still devastatingly handsome.
Right. He was good.
Then he saw her.
Mikoto Uchiha.
Wearing a midnight-blue dress with subtle Uchiha patterns etched in silver near the hem, her hair loose for once, falling softly across her shoulders.
She walked like royalty—but with that familiar warmth in her eyes. It didn't matter that she was one of the most talented kunoichi of her clan—right now, she just looked... happy.
It didn't matter that she'd probably be an ANBU member in the future. She already had the papers; all that was left was joining. She was an elite Jōnin—she could do this.
Nawaki couldn't be part of the ANBU—not because he was too weak, no.
It was because he was too kind.
"Sorry I'm late," she said gently, adjusting a small flower pin in her hair. "Clan stuff ran long."
"You're right on time," Seijuro replied, holding the door open.
He glanced at the clock nearby. She came roughly five minutes before the agreed time, so she wasn't late by any means.
Some might even say she was punctual.
While others might say she was a bit late—it really depended on what kind of person you were.
(Some people considered not being there 30 minutes in advance to be late.)
Inside – Private Booth
The waiter bowed as they sat, sliding the door shut for privacy.
"I heard this place is expensive," Mikoto said, looking around. "You didn't have to spend so much."
Mind you, the least expensive thing on that menu was at least the pay of a C-Rank mission.
The goddamn appetizers were that expensive.
The actual food?
Closer to a B-Rank—if not A-Rank—mission's pay.
Yes, this place was that fancy. After all, it was the Daimyō's favorite place to eat, so it was full of nobles most of the time. Some might say the price was... inflated.
"The food's good. They buy ingredients from all over the world," Seijuro said calmly.
"It's fine. I recently finished an S-Rank mission—I can afford this."
If you were wondering how much money he had in his bank account?
Well, several millions.
That would be how much clean money he had.
I.e., stuff he got from doing official work for the village.
But if we were talking about his unclean money—i.e., stuff he did under his pseudo-identity?
Yeah, he might be reaching the billions by now.
That version of himself was quite the notorious thief and bounty hunter.
(Though he leaned more toward bounty hunter. As for the theft? Usually only from dumb ninja who tried to rob him or kill him.)
She sipped on her drink, her gaze wandering. This place felt fancy... yet a bit suffocating.
Her Sharingan was activated. Why, you may ask?
Simple. The Sharingan tends to make you remember everything you see. It was mostly used for battle.
PTSD really messed with the Uchiha.
So yeah—she had hers on during a date.
Don't judge her.
Her three-tomoe Sharingan spun. She looked quite radiant.
How fun.
As to why no one else could see it?
Illusions and contacts existed for a reason.
"Did you finally finish your research on chakra?" she asked with a thoughtful look.
"For the most part. I've made a lot of progress... but the more I learn, the more I want to learn," he said calmly.
"Your Sharingan, for example. While you can see chakra—also, thank you for letting me research it," he added politely.
"Don't fret it. I just wanted to help," she said softly. Hm. Neat.
"After some research, I found out that hate wasn't the main emotion to unlock the Sharingan.
It could be any emotion—as long as the emotional turmoil was strong enough, it could happen.
It varies from Uchiha to Uchiha.
Some require less.
Some require more.
And there are others who have a blockage in the nerves tied to emotional output, making it nearly impossible to activate their eyes."
He muttered this calmly, looking at her.
She nodded as she listened.
"Though, there are plausible ways to stimulate those glands... I have no way of accessing them. And further research would require more test subjects.
Thus, I'll have to stop my research there.
I don't wish to offend the Uchiha clan," he said smoothly.
Mikoto, having finished her meal, looked up at him.
"I'm sure, when they see the results, they'd be more than happy to provide the info."
"Don't be too hopeful. You're a shinobi—try to be a bit more pragmatic."
Her brow furrowed as she heard that.
The Uchiha were prideful of their eyes... but maybe she could find a way to help.
They ordered quietly—steak, grilled vegetables, fire-roasted yams with sweet glaze.
Mikoto got hers medium-rare. Seijuro, rare.
Of course.
"Don't think too hard. It's fine, really," he said softly.
For the most part, he'd done his research for the Uchiha and told her as much as he currently knew—because he trusted her.
Plus, his other research would include having actual Uchiha Sharingan samples to study.
Maybe, with enough tests, he could help them refine their eyes.
Once that was done, he could focus on getting Nawaki Wood Style.
Make another Hashirama while he was at it.
For peace to exist, war must never be a thought in people's minds.
What he was trying to say is—
For peace to last, the other nations had to think:
"Hey... if we start some shit...
We're gonna get fucked harder than Bonnie Blue..."
Time skip.
They walked side-by-side through the quiet streets of Konoha.
The moon was above them.
Village lanterns flickered gently.
"You really didn't need to go all out," Mikoto teased, holding the little dessert box he'd insisted they take home.
"It's fine. After all... it's worth it."
As they arrived in front of the Uchiha clan compound, he gave her a smile.
Then, he got close...
And gave her a kiss.
A kiss on the lips.
A/N...