Kiyohara frowned.
The tone of these guys was so "Uchiha."
In Itachi Shinden, even Itachi— the clan leader's own son—got treated like this by certain Uchiha.
For the Uchiha, "the lower overthrowing the higher" was practically tradition.
Or rather, the clan's worldview was brutally simple: the strong rule.
"And if I don't go?" Kiyohara asked.
"Then you don't get a choice." The lead Uchiha sneered. "The Sharingan is Uchiha blood. Since you awakened it, you must return to the clan. That's the rule."
Kiyohara looked at them, then suddenly smiled.
"A rule? Who made that rule?"
"The Uchiha clan made it!"
"But I'm a Konoha shinobi," Kiyohara said evenly. "My allegiance is to Konoha."
All three Uchiha darkened.
"So you're refusing a toast and choosing the hard way."
They opened their Sharingan at the same time—scarlet irises, tomoe spinning.
The air snapped tight like a drawn blade.
But then a voice came from the side.
"Stop."
A boy walked in from the other end of the street.
He was extremely young—youngest person there.
Yet the three Uchiha didn't dare show disrespect.
Because it was Shisui Uchiha, the clan's prodigy.
Three-tomoe Sharingan at such an age; his future was limitless.
And he was already being called the young hero—"Shisui of the Body Flicker."
He looked at the three Uchiha.
"Go back. Tell Fugaku-sama I'll bring Kiyohara over myself."
"But—" The three hesitated, exchanged looks, then finally bowed their heads and left.
Once they were gone, Shisui said to Kiyohara, "Sorry. Some people in the clan are… hardline. But believe me—most of the clan would welcome you."
"I know," Kiyohara nodded slightly.
That was the Uchiha for you.
It was exactly why they clashed with other shinobi so easily—and why their reputation was never great.
"Why are you here?" Kiyohara asked next.
Those three looked like Fugaku's people; Shisui clearly wasn't with them.
"When I heard you had a Sharingan, I was shocked," Shisui said, looking up at him.
Kiyohara was still taller, just from being a bit older.
"I came to see for myself."
"I see." Kiyohara figured Uchiha Tekka—who'd lost to him before—would be equally stunned.
"Shisui, I want to ask you something."
He looked at Shisui, intending to "check his ingredients," so to speak—see how strong Shisui's Will of Fire really was.
"What do you think the relationship between the Uchiha and Konoha is right now?"
Shisui fell silent for a moment.
After thinking it through, he answered seriously.
"We're one."
His dark eyes met Kiyohara's.
"The Uchiha are part of Konoha, and Konoha is the Uchiha's home. It's just… misunderstandings and distance over the years have made it complicated."
He paused, then continued.
"Kiyohara, I know you might feel resistant to the clan. But at least meet Fugaku-sama and hear him out. Fugaku isn't stubborn. I think he can keep the village and the clan from coming into conflict."
"…"
Kiyohara had no immediate reply.
Avoid conflict?
Sure—Fugaku "avoided conflict" by letting Itachi slaughter the entire clan, offering no resistance, and waiting to be killed himself.
Every Uchiha except Sasuke died to Uchiha infighting—so yeah, no conflict with the rest of the village.
A hell of a joke.
"…Alright. Take me to meet him," Kiyohara said.
He'd expected an invitation sooner or later.
It was just that those three had shown up looking for a fight, and the conversation had gone sour.
"Good. Come on," Shisui said with a small smile, leading the way.
After they passed through a large gate, Kiyohara knew they'd entered Uchiha territory.
They headed toward the Uchiha district—more like a gated neighborhood back in Kiyohara's old world.
Big clans all had their own "districts" like this: Hyūga, Nara, and so on.
Clan members lived together in a designated area.
Non-combat clan members ran small businesses; returning shinobi often bought from their own.
Kiyohara even saw Uchiha Teyaki and Uchiha Uruchi—an older couple selling pancakes—both staring at him curiously.
And not just them.
Kiyohara could feel countless other eyes on him too.
Outsiders normally didn't come here. So the moment he showed up, attention naturally locked onto him.
After all, right now he was still an "outsider."
Shisui walked beside him along the stone-paved road.
Soon they entered a narrower street.
Most courtyard walls displayed the Uchiha crest—the flaming fan.
It was mid-afternoon; sunlight slanted down, tree shadows mottling the stone.
"Feels like there are a lot of people," Kiyohara said.
"Most of the clan are on duty with the Konoha Police Force, and some are on the battlefield," Shisui replied. "So this still isn't the busiest. If you came at night, it'd be livelier."
Kiyohara nodded.
There were plenty of people, sure—but the atmosphere felt different from the rest of Konoha.
More closed off. More… self-possessed.
Like pride hung in the air.
They turned a corner—
—and saw several figures ahead.
At the front stood an old man with graying hair and a slightly stooped frame, but eyes sharp as a hawk.
He wore a traditional Uchiha robe and leaned on a cane, planted in the middle of the road as if waiting.
"Elder Setsuna," Shisui murmured, his tone tightening.
Kiyohara's mind immediately supplied the dossier:
Uchiha Setsuna—an old-school hawk. A self-proclaimed inheritor of Madara's "will."
Kiyohara never understood why, when Madara was alive, no one followed him out…
…but once everyone believed he'd been killed by Hashirama, suddenly "Madara's successors" popped up everywhere.
Kiyohara looked at them.
Setsuna and his group looked back just as hard.
"So you're the stray bloodline," Setsuna rasped.
"The Sharingan—even in our clan, only a minority awaken it."
His cloudy eyes fixed on Kiyohara.
He hadn't expected a branch line that wandered outside the clan to "revert" and awaken it.
And now that Kiyohara existed…
who knew how many other Uchiha bloodlines might be scattered out there?
"Mind letting us see your strength?" Setsuna said, then glanced to the two shinobi at his sides.
On the left: Uchiha Inabi—tall and lean.
On the right: Uchiha Tekka—broad, corded with muscle, one of the rare Uchiha who specialized in taijutsu.
Both opened their Sharingan.
Inabi had two tomoe.
Tekka had three.
"Strength, huh…" Kiyohara narrowed his eyes.
Setsuna really was as aggressive as the rumors said.
But if he weren't, he wouldn't have ended up imprisoned by Tobirama.
Kiyohara hadn't expected the "test" to come this fast.
Then again… Uchiha.
He'd only fought Shisui and Tekka before.
More sparring wasn't a bad thing.
And Kiyohara had his own little angle here.
The Sharingan could copy.
In this fight, he could openly steal their techniques—and "launder" some of his own overlap by using it as an excuse.
Like Fire Release: Great Fireball—if they used it, Kiyohara could too.
"Elder Setsuna, Fugaku-sama's—" Shisui tried to interject, sensing the tension.
"Hmph. Fugaku only became clan head because I backed him," Setsuna cut him off, then flicked a glance at Shisui.
He genuinely admired powerful younger Uchiha.
Shisui was pure-blooded, raised in-clan—obviously a future pillar.
But Kiyohara was different.
He hadn't grown up under Uchiha teaching. Setsuna doubted he had any gratitude or willingness to "serve" the clan.
"Shisui, I haven't sparred with an Uchiha in a long time," Kiyohara said. "Let me try too."
As he spoke, a red sheen surfaced in Kiyohara's dark eyes—one black tomoe turning.
The world slowed slightly in his vision.
He could see chakra flowing through Inabi and Tekka.
(Probably gonna change the Tekka to Tekka)
Not exact amounts—just the general feel, unless the chakra was so overwhelming it was impossible to miss.
Because chakra was meant to be used—converted from stamina on demand.
If you refined too much at once and didn't spend it, it was wasted.
Turning wasted chakra back into stamina required at least jōnin-level control.
"Who do you want to try first?" Setsuna asked, nodding slightly.
At least Kiyohara had some Uchiha backbone.
"The left one, Inabi? Or the right one, Tekka?"
"Both at once," Kiyohara said.
He had Steel Release and Earth Spear—even if he slipped, he wouldn't be in real danger.
"Hmph. Arrogant," Tekka said, arms folded.
Being big, he was hot-blooded too.
Kiyohara's attitude lit a fuse immediately.
"Elder Setsuna…" Tekka looked to Setsuna for approval.
Setsuna gave a faint nod.
If Kiyohara wanted it that way, fine—let him learn.
"Watch your limits," Setsuna added at the end.
Don't go too far.
This wasn't meant to be a killing match—just enough to gauge Kiyohara's level.
He'd heard the rumors: Kiyohara had supposedly used some long-range technique to blow off one of Kurotsuchi Raiga's arms, then finished him off while he was heavily injured.
Clearly not simple.
But that was ranged.
This was close quarters.
Too bad they didn't know Kiyohara's close combat was terrifying too.
"Yes," Tekka said.
He glanced at Inabi.
Inabi stepped forward.
"Since it's two of us against you, we won't use anything wildly beyond scale."
Then he moved first.
A kunai slid from his sleeve, flashing cold in the sun as it shot straight for Kiyohara's throat.
At the same time, Tekka attacked from the right—
No weapon. Just a heavy kick aimed at Kiyohara's ribs, cutting the air with brutal force.
A clean pincer—left and right—perfect coordination.
Kiyohara didn't change expression.
With dynamic vision and genjutsu now largely patched—aside from sealing arts, his one big gap—he had tools for almost everything.
Ranged. Melee. Medical. Sensing. He had answers.
His right hand lifted.
In a blink, his index and middle fingers clamped Inabi's kunai—stopping its trajectory dead in midair.
His left hand shot out and caught Tekka's kicking leg.
Snap. Snap.
Two crisp sounds.
In one instant, he halted both attacks.
Inabi's eyes widened.
That thrust had been full force—Kiyohara stopped it with two fingers?
Wasn't he afraid of slipping and losing his fingers to the blade?
Was one-tomoe vision really that sharp?
Or were Kiyohara's reflexes simply that inhuman?
Tekka's shock was worse.
He was one of the clan's rare taijutsu specialists—his kicks could crack rock.
But with Kiyohara gripping his ankle, it felt like being locked in iron pincers.
No matter how he strained, he couldn't pull free.
"You—" Tekka gritted his teeth, chakra surging as he tried to break the hold.
Kiyohara's hand didn't budge.
His scarlet eye watched them calmly.
In the Sharingan's view, their chakra flow, muscle engagement, and even the "next movement" were readable.
The Sharingan was a weapon—that was obvious from Sasuke vs. Itachi.
But different bodies meant different amplification.
Sasuke's three-tomoe genjutsu resisting Tsukuyomi alone proved how much raw "stats" mattered—young and at peak, while Itachi was sick and going blind.
(Though Itachi likely held back—otherwise he'd have fought smarter.)
"I can't pull it out…" Inabi muttered.
Both hands on the kunai grip—still, he couldn't yank it free.
This was insane.
Inabi's Sharingan spun faster, and only then did he realize Kiyohara's fingers had turned faintly black.
Some kind of hardening technique?
Seeing their stunned, "what the hell" faces, Kiyohara didn't feel like explaining.
Normally, with clothes on, his build looked no different from other shinobi.
But with Earth Spear, his body could burst with strength capable of splitting stone.
And even without it, his base strength was far beyond normal—his chakra reserves were several times a jōnin's, and constant "stacked" growth had long since pushed his physical stats beyond ordinary jōnin range.
"Ha!" Tekka snarled.
If he couldn't pull free, he'd change angles.
He twisted hard—then whipped his left leg up like a steel lash, sweeping for Kiyohara's head.
A brutal roundhouse.
If it landed, it would crack a skull.
Inabi reacted instantly too.
He abandoned the trapped kunai, arched backward, and planted both feet on Kiyohara's arm—kicking off to leap into the air.
Midair, his hands were already forming seals.
Fire Release seals.
Kiyohara's eye narrowed—he understood immediately.
He pressed Tekka's ankle downward with his left hand, pivoted his body, released Inabi's kunai with his right, then raised his elbow to meet the spinning kick.
THUD!
A heavy impact.
Tekka felt like he'd kicked a mountain.
The recoil numbed his entire leg and threw off his balance.
Kiyohara used that recoil, guided Tekka's ankle sideways, then released—
CRASH!
Tekka slammed into the wall beside the street, bricks exploding outward and cracking the flaming-fan crest painted there.
Above, Inabi finished his seals.
"Fire Release: Great Fireball Jutsu!"
A massive fireball—two meters across—erupted from his mouth, heat warping the air as it dropped straight onto Kiyohara.
But Kiyohara was faster.
The moment he flung Tekka aside, his own hands were already weaving signs.
He completed the Wind Release seals first, with faster hands and even faster chakra guidance.
He exhaled a violent gale—
"Wind Release: Great Breakthrough!"
The gust howled, kicking dust into a windwall.
And before that windwall could dissipate, Kiyohara snapped into Fire Release seals and spat a fist-sized flame.
"Fire Release: Small Flame Bullet!"
A technique Uchiha Kiyohara had taught him.
The flame entered the windwall—wind feeding fire—
—and it ballooned instantly into a four-meter fireball that surged upward, meeting Inabi's Great Fireball head-on.
Inabi watched from the air, pupils shrinking.
Two techniques faster than his one?
Was that even possible?
BOOOOM!
The explosion thundered through the street, fire blooming outward like fireworks and scorching nearby trees black.
When the flames cleared, Kiyohara's fireball had overpowered Inabi's.
Wind-fed. Larger. Stronger. Cleanly superior.