The old man stopped and turned, his calm yet piercing gaze fixing itself squarely on Uchiha Gen.
Even without the Sharingan, those eyes—aged, weathered, and impossibly sharp—still carried the unsettling force of someone who could see straight through a person's skin and into the thoughts beneath.
"You slippery brat," the Grand Elder said, not sounding angry so much as amused. "What I want to hear is not that sort of answer that offends no one. I don't want a polished model answer. I want your answer."
Gen lowered his eyes slightly.
"Elder, was I wrong?"
"No." The old man resumed walking, hands clasped behind his back as he headed deeper toward the clan storehouse. "You were absolutely right. That is indeed the ideal relationship between clan and village. Interdependent, mutually supportive, indispensable to one another. That is what every senior member of the Uchiha wishes to see."
His pace remained unhurried, but the pressure in his voice grew heavier with each word.
"But ideals are ideals. What I want now is your real answer. I will judge how much to invest in you based on what you say next. If your answer satisfies me, I do not mind using additional resources to accelerate the growth of a genius from the new generation."
He glanced at Gen from the corner of his eye.
"If it does not, then I still won't shortchange you on what you are entitled to. But beyond that, I will treat you the same as any ordinary clan child with a little talent."
Gen's heart tightened.
So that was how it was.
This Grand Elder did not evaluate clan members on ninja talent alone. In his eyes, talent was only one part of the equation. Character, judgment, vision, intelligence, position—those mattered too. Perhaps to a man in his seat, they mattered even more than who threw the biggest fireball.
"Now," the elder said, "give me the answer that is truly in your heart. I will not give you much time to think."
Mikoto walked quietly at the side, her expression gentle and reserved, as though she were merely accompanying them. But the slight turn of her eyes told Gen everything he needed to know.
This mattered.
Gen lowered his head and thought quickly.
The Grand Elder had not asked that question on a whim. In the elder's eyes, the relationship between the Uchiha clan and Konoha was clearly no longer harmonious. Otherwise, there would have been no need to ask him such a thing on the day of his graduation.
A man of this age and standing had definitely already noticed the tension.
What he wanted to know was whether Gen had noticed it too.
Could this new genius of the younger generation see the shape of the problem? Did he have enough intelligence and insight to understand the danger hidden under the surface? More importantly, was he worth cultivating as someone who might one day help the clan navigate that danger?
That alone already revealed something important.
There were indeed clear-minded people within the Uchiha clan—people who understood that the clan's current position was not as stable as it looked.
The old man before him was one of them.
Of course, even he probably could not imagine how severe the conflict would become in the future.
No one in the present could possibly believe that the Uchiha, a clan that had stood at the peak of the ninja world for a thousand years, would one day be wiped out almost overnight. And if Gen carelessly said too much—if he spoke of annihilation, massacre, or a future drenched in blood—then the old man would only think he was deliberately exaggerating to attract attention.
That would be the fastest way to lose this chance.
He needed an answer that showed enough vision to impress the Grand Elder, but not so much that it sounded absurd.
By the time the three of them passed beneath the long eaves beside the storehouse courtyard, Gen had already settled on what he wanted to say.
He lifted his head.
"The relationship between the clan and the village," he said slowly, "is moving away from that ideal, not toward it. Maybe the signs have only started to show over the past few years. But if no one stops it, then one day it could lead to a disaster."
The old man stopped in place.
He did not turn around right away. Instead, he remained facing forward, as though deliberately giving the words time to settle.
Then he said, "Go on. Explain."
Gen drew a quiet breath.
"Power naturally gives rise to status. Once someone has status, they will also want the authority, benefits, and influence that should come with it. That desire will inevitably come into conflict with people who already hold those things. And if both sides don't trust each other enough, then suppression becomes inevitable too."
He paused, choosing his next words with care.
"And once suppression begins, conflict becomes unavoidable."
The Grand Elder finally turned around. His gaze sharpened another degree.
"It is hard to believe that such words would come from a newly graduated genin." His eyes narrowed slightly. "Mikoto said you met Nobuyuki before coming here. Did he teach you that? That silent fellow does not strike me as someone with that much brains."
"Elder, these are my own thoughts," Gen replied without hesitation.
He looked up, his expression calm.
"This morning, during the graduation assessment, Sarutobi Enjun defeated Inahisa by keeping oil in his mouth to increase the power of his Fire Release. If my own Great Fireball hadn't been strong enough, I would have lost to him too."
The old man said nothing.
So Gen continued.
"When we have the ability to compete for first place, we naturally fight for it. That's true for people, and it's true for clans. At the academy, that struggle only turned into a small trick—holding oil in the mouth to make one technique stronger. But if the same thing is magnified to the level of a village... or the entire ninja world..."
He let the rest remain unspoken for a beat.
"The principle doesn't change. Only the scale does."
The elder listened in silence, then gave the faintest nod.
That tiny movement told Gen his explanation had landed.
"I see," the old man murmured. "So you are using a small matter to illuminate a larger one."
"Yes."
"Hm."
They resumed walking.
The corridor outside the storehouse was cool and dim, with late sunlight filtering through the wooden lattice and laying long bars of gold across the floorboards. Mikoto remained quiet beside them, sleeves folded neatly at her sides, but Gen could feel the occasional flicker of her attention.
The Grand Elder spoke again.
"You enjoy reading, then." It wasn't really a question. "A child who hasn't seen much of the world can only draw this kind of half-formed but useful understanding from the wisdom of those who came before."
"Sometimes I read after training," Gen said. "Mostly history."
"History?" The elder's tone carried a trace of interest. "And what are you looking for in it?"
Gen answered honestly, "Common ground."
The old man raised a brow.
"Among the strong people of the past," Gen continued, "I want to see whether there is anything they all shared. Talent, ambition, judgment, timing, methods... if there is a pattern, then understanding it should be useful."
This time, the Grand Elder chuckled softly.
"A twelve-year-old speaking like an old schemer." He gave Gen a long look. "Then tell me—what kind of disaster do you think may come if things continue this way?"
This time Gen shook his head.
"I don't know."
The elder's eyes sharpened again, but Gen went on before he could speak.
"And I don't think we need to know the exact form it will take. We only need to prepare for the worst possibility. If the clan can endure the worst, then it can endure anything else too."
For a moment, there was only silence under the corridor.
Then, unexpectedly, the Grand Elder burst into laughter.
It was not loud, but it was genuine—deep, old, and carrying a kind of fierce satisfaction.
Mikoto blinked in surprise. Even Gen himself had not expected that reaction.
"Good. Very good." The old man looked at him with unconcealed approval now. "Your talent may not be the best I have ever seen, but for a boy your age, it is already excellent. More importantly, you are smart. You have vision. And you understand the value of preparing in advance instead of waiting for disaster to arrive."
He stepped closer.
"Yuan, you are very good. Though you are only twelve years old, your vision already surpasses that of most clan members. And the way you think..." He paused, as if weighing the words. "That is the kind of thinking only someone at the clan head level should possess."
Gen's eyelid twitched.
Clan head level?
For some reason, the first person who flashed across his mind was a certain future weasel-faced prodigy.
He instinctively glanced at Mikoto.
She stood there in quiet elegance, gentle and refined, like a proper Yamato Nadeshiko. When she noticed his glance, she only lowered her lashes slightly, pretending not to have seen it at all.
Gen suppressed the urge to sigh.
The Grand Elder, fortunately, did not notice the tiny shift in his expression.
"Perhaps you are still somewhat immature," the old man continued, "but I have finally seen another young person with the potential to one day shoulder the mission of reviving the clan."
Those words were heavy.
Far heavier than praise from a teacher or even from a jonin.
This was recognition from the Uchiha clan's Grand Elder—the man who controlled the clan archives, education, inheritance, and a large share of its resources.
In practical terms, that meant support.
Real support.
And from the way the old man was looking at him now, Gen could tell that his answer had not merely passed the test. It had exceeded expectations.
Still, one phrase in the elder's words caught his attention immediately.
Another.
By the time that thought surfaced, the elder had already reached the heavy doors of the storehouse. The wooden structure loomed before them in solemn silence, its seal-marked doors and dark beams exuding the weight of generations.
Mikoto stepped aside.
The Grand Elder placed one hand on the doorframe, but before he pushed it open, Gen spoke.
"By the way, Elder..."
"Hm?"
Gen looked at him with apparent curiosity, while keeping his tone as natural as possible.
"You said 'another' just now."
The old man paused.
Gen's eyes sharpened just a little.
"Does that mean there are other people in the clan like me?"