Within the Uchiha Clan's compound, the silver glow of the moon trickled through the gaps of the wooden corridor, weaving into thin silver threads and creating patches of light on the stone path.
Makoto, holding a stack of wrapped 'props', walked with light steps. As he passed through the gatehouse engraved with the Uchiha Clan's fan emblem, his shoes made soft 'tap, tap' sounds on the stone pavement.
"Where are you off to, Makoto-chan?"
The street corner pancake stall hadn't closed yet. The oil lamp hanging on a bamboo pole cast a warm, yellowish halo as Uchiha Teyaki, wearing a gray apron, used a metal spatula to scoop up the last pancake.
Sizzling sounds of oil splattering on the iron plate were especially clear in the night.
Teyaki looked up and saw Makoto, the wrinkles on his face smoothing out with a smile: "Freshly made pancake, want one?"
Hearing this, Makoto stopped.
Before his memories had fully returned, he had gotten along quite well with these clansmen.
The various 'props' in his cloth bag clinked together softly.
"Thank you, Uncle Teyaki." Makoto reached out and took the offered pancake, his fingertips touching the warm, greasy paper. The aroma, mixed with the smell of charcoal, wafted straight into his nose.
Teyaki waved his hand dismissively and stuffed two more into his arms, his rough fingers brushing against the back of Makoto's hand.
"Take them, take them. Seeing you carrying so much stuff, you must be up to something again. Be careful."
Makoto smiled and paid. Just as he was about to turn and leave, the Uchiha Aunt from the neighboring tea house leaned out: "Makoto-chan, wait a moment."
A bamboo tray held three dango, coated in a soft, white sugar frost, glowing softly under the night lights.
"Freshly steamed, and it's the dango you love." The aunt shoved the tray into his arms, tapping his forehead with her finger: "Don't play too late, save your family from worrying."
The load in Makoto's arms grew heavier. He tilted his head to look into the tea house, and saw a few old men from the clan were waving at him, the embers in their pipe bowls glowing and fading.
As he passed through the streets and alleys of the Uchiha Clan's compound, children would often run up and stuff little snacks into his pockets, calling out in childish voices, "Makoto-nii."
As someone with higher position, Makoto patted each of their heads in turn.
Most of these faces were ordinary Uchiha Clan's members, spending their whole lives tending shops within the clan grounds. Yet they always remembered what he liked to eat, knew he would stop and listen to the elders' stories from the past when he passed by.
In this Uchiha Clan's compound where even walking carried a certain coldness, a smiling Uchiha was extremely rare. He would often squat by the pancake stall listening to Teyaki's embarrassing stories from his early mission days.
He would help the tea house aunt soothe her crying grandson, and even remembered to bring sunflower seeds for the chatting old men… this Makoto had long become the warmest flicker of light in these people's hearts.
When he left the clan grounds, Makoto's prop bag was already adorned with various foods.
The heat from the pancakes seeped through the oilcloth, mingling with the sweet scent of the dango, tangling together in the night breeze.
He hadn't eaten dinner originally, still thinking of checking in at Ichiraku Ramen or Yakiniku Q, but it seemed that would have to wait for next time.
Outside the Uchiha Clan's compound, the lights of Konoha lit up one after another along the streets, like spilled stars scattered across the earth.
Makoto, munching on a pancake, walked briskly towards the direction of the Hokage Rock, the warm air from his mouth mixing with the night wind and creeping into his collar.
The huge black shadow of the Hokage Rock loomed even more majestically in the night, the outlines of the four stone faces distinctly outlined by the moonlight.
Reaching the highest point in the village, Makoto bit into half a dango and securely tied the rope to a nearby tree trunk.
Taking a deep breath, he grabbed the hanging rope and slid down. The night wind whipped his clothes, like tugging at a small flag, fluttering loudly.
Beneath his feet was a hundred-meter void, the lights of Konoha shrinking into tiny specks of light below. Makoto's heart pounded wildly, his fingertips turning white from the strain. He was a little afraid of heights at the moment...
So he simply closed his eyes directly, musing inwardly: "If I can't see it, it's not high."
He climbed down slowly and awkwardly until Makoto felt the rough surface of the stone face, then opened his eyes, right in front of the stony cheek of the Sandaime Hokage, Sarutobi Hiruzen.
"Let's start with you."
The corner of Makoto's mouth lifted slightly. For this sculpture of Konoha's 'Strongest Hokage', his creative urge was the most intense.
He began to apply makeup for him, painting with extremely high artistic value. A typical case of love the line of work you're in, be dedicated, be meticulous… it was all about professionalism!
After painting for a while, he gradually got used to the height. He simply set up a makeshift small bed on top of Hiruzen's head, planning to take a short nap.
Lying there and swaying, he could see the entire Konoha spread out like a sea of lights beneath his feet. The warm yellow light of Ichiraku Ramen was like a stubborn star, appearing particularly gentle in the dark night.
Makoto, nibbling on the dango in his embrace, watched the night view for a while, then suddenly felt that sleeping on Hiruzen's head seemed even more comfortable than sleeping in his own bed at home.
After resting for a moment, he quickly got up again and continued 'applying makeup' to the Sandaime.
…
In the Hokage Tower, a tobacco pipe was burning fiercely.
Sandaime Hokage, Sarutobi Hiruzen, held a heavily patinated tobacco pipe between his withered, wood-like fingers. Greyish-blue smoke drifted from his lips, condensing into a cloud in front of him.
He had long known about Makoto's actions through the Crystal Ball and the Anbu, but his gaze remained fixed in the direction of the Uchiha Clan's compound.
His eyelids half-drooped, occasionally bringing the pipe to his mouth. The entire Hokage's Office was filled with smoke, and it was unclear what he was thinking about.
"Bam!"
Danzo barged in without knocking, his wide black robe stirring a gust of cold air.
He had just stopped when the thick smoke in the room choked him, causing a fit of violent coughing. His exposed single eye was full of gloom as he stared at Hiruzen.
"Hiruzen, this is definitely the inherently evil Uchiha Clan trying to undermine the prestige of the successive Hokages through this method."
"This is a blatant provocation! This is a declaration of war against the entire Konoha!!"
Because at this time, Naruto hadn't yet applied makeup to his father's face, the Hokage Rock of the successive Hokages was still in its pristine state, exceptionally precious.
Since the village's founding, no one had ever done something so absurd.
Hiruzen glanced up at Danzo, then lowered his head again, continuing to smoke. His pipe tapped the edge of the desk, causing ashes to fall rustling.
He had known Danzo for many years, he knew exactly what kind of fart he was going to let loose as soon as he stuck his butt out.
He didn't respond, his gaze still fixed on the direction of the Uchiha Clan's compound. Smoke rings drifted out of his nostrils, slowly floating in all directions.
Both of them were extremely tacitly coordinated in not sending anyone to stop Makoto. In their eyes, that little guy on the Hokage Rock was nothing but cannon fodder, just an insignificant pawn.
A member of the Konoha's Military Police Force on patrol in the village, Uchiha Tekka, suddenly stopped in his tracks, staring in the direction of the Hokage Rock. His pupils contracted sharply to pinpoints, his voice trembling uncontrollably: "Th-that's Makoto?"
Beside him, Uchiha Inabi followed his pointing finger. The manual in his hand fell to the ground with a 'clatter'.
He rubbed his eyes vigorously and looked again. The figure was still vandalizing the Hokage Rock, scribbling on the sculpture of Sandaime's face. The bright colors were particularly striking under the moonlight.
"He's crazy... that kid is absolutely crazy!" Inabi couldn't help but roar in a low voice.
Yashiro's face turned ashen. He grabbed both their arms, his fingers digging into their flesh: "Don't make a sound!"
"Quick, come with me back to the clan's compound, report to the Clan Head!" He continued in a hushed voice: "Sandaime Hokage must have noticed this long ago. This matter is beyond our ability to intervene!"
Before he finished speaking, the three transformed into black streaks of light, speeding towards the direction of the Uchiha Clan's compound… any later, and something big might happen.
The three quickly arrived at the Clan Head's residence, 'banging' the door open as they rushed in.
Fugaku was looking over the clan's scrolls. Startled by the commotion, his hand jerked, the brush dragging a long ink stain across the paper.
"Clan Head! Makoto... Makoto is scribbling on the Hokage Rock!"
Hearing this, Fugaku shot to his feet, his chair sliding back half a foot.
He stared at the three, his expression extremely serious, his mind filled with a 'buzzing' sound… this was slapping the Hokage's faction in the face in front of the entire village!
He knew that Danzo, who had always viewed their Uchiha Clan as a thorn in his side, would absolutely not let this go.
He clenched his fists, his knuckles white, 'Makoto had awakened the Sharingan at two and a half years old. He was the future of the Uchiha Clan, he absolutely must not come to harm.'
Fugaku was about to head towards the Hokage Tower, but paused at the door, his brow furrowed, 'Going alone probably wouldn't carry enough weight...'
The clever Fugaku pondered for a moment, then decided to quickly convene a clan meeting, summoning all the strong members of the Uchiha Clan to go together!
…
The charcoal brazier in the Uchiha Clan's meeting hall burned fiercely. Several elders sat around it.
"It's just a child's doodling, a prank. Why so nervous?"
"It can't be special treatment just because he's your child, right? Fugaku." The Third Elder took a sip of tea, the cup bottom making a light click on the table, and continued.
"Do you have any idea what consequences bringing a large number of clansmen to the Hokage Tower could easily cause?"
The Second Elder retorted in a low voice: "Makoto is our clansman. No matter what mistake he makes, we cannot allow outsiders to handle him as they please!"
At this moment, Fugaku interjected rapidly: "Makoto awakened his Sharingan today."
"Clatter!"
The Third Elder's teacup fell onto the charcoal brazier. Scalding tea splashed onto the back of his hand, turning it red, but he seemed not to notice, his eyes wide as saucers.
"What did you say?" The Uchiha Clan's Great Elder, who had been silent wearing a gray robe, suddenly stood up: "Two and a half years old, awakened the Sharingan?"
Fugaku nodded slowly.
The Great Elder slammed the table violently, shaking dust from the rafters: "What are you still standing around for? Summon all the strong members of the clan!"
"This child has the makings of a Hokage!" The Third Elder completely forgot about his freshly burned hand, exclaiming loudly: "Anyone who wants to lay a hand on him will have to ask our old bones' blades first."
He had completely forgotten his own sarcastic remarks towards Fugaku just moments before.
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FOR EVERY 50 POWER STONES, I'LL UPLOAD ONE CHAPTER