BOOM!
A soft pop shattered the dead silence in the Raikage's office. White smoke puffed out and cleared, revealing a fat stack of ancient scrolls now sitting on the desk like a goddamn paper mountain.
Every single original Lightning-style jutsu scroll that got yoinked the other day.
"There ya go, all yours again," Makoto Uchiha said with a shit-eating grin, hands spread wide like he was returning a lost puppy. "But you know me—I've got ants in my pants and zero chill. Couldn't help giving them a quick quality-control check."
He shrugged like it was no big deal. "Accidentally flipped through this one little thing called Lightning Chakra Mode."
Dude was talking about Kumo's crown-jewel forbidden technique like he'd just skimmed the latest issue of Playninja.
"I swear I'm not shady, boss. Just a guy who's real eager to git gud so I can start pulling my weight for Kumogakure, ya feel me?" He slapped on the most pure-hearted, golden-retriever smile in the history of bullshit.
He pointed at the pile. "Everything else? Didn't touch a single one. Still factory-sealed, virgin wrapping, zero fingerprints."
Those scrolls all had special seals—open them wrong and it's like leaving a neon "I STOLE YOUR SHIT" sign. Makoto wasn't dumb. Before he even stepped foot back in the village, he'd hit up the [Player Shop] and dropped some pocket change on a sneaky little "perfect duplication" tool. Copied every word, every doodle, every coffee stain. Man wasn't returning jack until he'd sucked those scrolls drier than a Mormon bachelor party.
"But look, soon as I could, I hauled ass straight back here with the goods—uh, I mean, with Kumo's rightful property." He thumped his chest like he was about to recite the Pledge of Allegiance. "My loyalty to Kumogakure? Sun and moon can vouch for that shit. Restoring Kumo's glory is my motherfucking duty!"
Absolute theater-kid energy, but zero hard evidence. And with the monster-level value he brought to the table, nobody in upper management actually wanted to burn that bridge.
Three sets of eyes had been glued to him the whole time.
He flicked a quick glance at Samui and Mabui, threw them a wink.
Samui kept her ice-queen face, but her eyelashes did a tiny betraying flutter and the tips of her ears went pink.
Mabui turned her head like "I'm not looking, nope," but the corner of her mouth twitched into the world's faintest smirk—she'd just covered for his ass hard, gotta keep up appearances.
And the third stare? Straight from Yugito Nii—wild, feline, built like a panther that hits the gym and the catnip equally hard. Pure curiosity sparkling in those eyes like she just found the world's most interesting laser pointer.
Makoto, certified cat lover, shot her a megawatt grin and another wink.
Yugito actually blinked, lips parting—yeah, she's hooked now.
Fourth Raikage Ai sucked in a breath so deep it could've inhaled the smoke monster from Lost, then exhaled like he was trying to blow out birthday candles made of rage. He side-eyed Dodai, who immediately started inspecting every scroll like a TSA agent on the last day before retirement.
Few seconds later Dodai gave the nod—only the Lightning Chakra Mode scroll had been opened.
Ai's face unclenched from "active volcano" to "dormant volcano that still might kill you."
"…Fine. Good to have you back."
Words scraped out through clenched teeth, but hey—the archive heist was officially water under the bridge.
Makoto saw the opening and pounced like a caffeinated tiger.
"Sweet, so about that Lightning Chakra Mode—I've already got my feet wet. And once I start something, I finish it. Hard. So to git gud faster and start contributing to the village sooner… any chance I could borrow the previous Raikages' training notes? Just to, y'know, not reinvent the wheel?"
Ai shut that down instantly.
"No chance in hell. Kid, you're way too young. That technique's deeper and deadlier than you can imagine. Your body and chakra reserves can't handle it yet."
He saw Makoto's smile fade and realized he might've come in too hot—last thing he needed was the human teleport machine yeeting out the window and never coming back.
So Ai did something rare: he dialed the tone down to "concerned uncle" levels.
"Listen, in a few years when you're fully grown, I'll teach you myself. Promise."
Makoto just stared back, flat and unimpressed.
"I think I know my own limits better than you do, big guy. Don't be stingy—it's just reference material. I'll stop if it gets dicey."
His voice was casual, but those eyes said I'm not asking twice.
"And don't worry, lips sealed. Once I master it I'll work for Kumo like a prize bull—plow the fields, spread the love, the whole package."
He had zero fear. Revival coins, Deidara's "art is a blast" suicide bomb, and Flying Thunder God—he could ghost this village so fast they'd still be looking for his shadow.
The only reason he was playing nice? Future big plans: open a massive "farm" right here in Lightning Country, maybe even snag the Fifth Raikage hat while he's at it. No rule says you can't be Raikage of Kumo and still moonlight somewhere else.
Peaceful route's always cheaper.
Dead silence. You could hear a kunai drop and apologize on the way down.
Ai's brain ran the numbers at Mach 10.
Normal methods can't hold a Flying Thunder God user. Only option is the top-secret Uzumaki sealing crap they stole way back—lock him down permanently. But then the "stud" plan goes in the trash; you'd have to unseal him every time you want to collect genetic material, and one slip-up means he's gone forever and now you've got a very pissed-off teleporting Uchiha with Sharingan.
Plus Itachi and Shisui would probably turn the village into modern art if that happened.
Bottom line: kid's chaotic, but he returned every scroll without being forced. That's more goodwill than most people ever show Kumo.
And the Lightning Chakra Mode danger? Sure, it's brutal—but tests showed Makoto doesn't even have lightning nature yet. By the time he unlocks it and is ready for the real training, his body will be fully developed. With his freak talent, he'll probably be fine.
Ai's gaze slid down Makoto's frame, lingering for half a second on the hips and thighs.
The Great Elder's "nutrition program" these past years paid off… time to put the Seed Plan on the fast track.
They'd poured insane resources into fast-tracking this kid's physical growth. Time for him to start planting little Uchiha geniuses with loyal Kumo kunoichi. Even if he leaves one day, blood ties will keep him from ever turning those eyes on the village.
Man looks like a reckless meathead, but the Fourth Raikage plays chess, not checkers.
And leaking the technique? Please. Outside of him, his dad, and the Second Raikage who invented it, literally nobody in Kumo has ever mastered it. Requirements are absurd—they even classified it as B-rank on purpose to trick more people into trying and failing.
Ai's jaw finally relaxed. He let out a long, suffering grunt like a dad agreeing to raise the driving age.
"Fine. You can have it. But if you fry your nervous system, I get to say I told you so."
"Thank you, sir."
Makoto took the ultra-secret scroll with actual reverence for once—fingertips even paused like he was accepting the Holy Grail.
Goal achieved. Time to bounce.
But first, gotta sell the next destination. Straight-up saying "I'm heading to the Bloody Mist to grind kill XP" would start a war.
So he cleared his throat, switched his face to full-on patriotic war-movie protagonist, chest puffed, eyes shining with noble purpose.
"Lord Raikage… for the future of Kumogakure, I've unilaterally made a major decision!"