She simply wanted to ease some of the burden on Fugaku's shoulders.
Mikoto was dressed in a standard shinobi outfit: her signature green flak jacket over a dark top, and snug black pants that hugged the curve of her thighs as she stood up.
Under the dim lighting, the shadows emphasized the sharp angles of Mikoto's face, highlighting her refined features.
Seeing that it was Mikoto, Fugaku immediately softened his voice and said gently,
"Alright. I'll leave it to you, then."
There were unspoken feelings between them—just one thin layer of glass between their hearts yet to be broken through.
To Fugaku, it was only a matter of time.
Keiji had only walked a short distance when he heard someone call out to him.
When he turned around, he saw a gentle-looking woman approaching.
"Mikoto-sama," he greeted.
Don't be fooled by her appearance—Mikoto may look like a typical housewife, but the official guidebook "Tome of Formation" clearly stated she was a retired jonin.
And being a jonin placed her squarely among the elite of the shinobi ranks.
"One of the Sannin, Tsunade, will be arriving shortly. Let me take you back to your room for now," Mikoto offered.
"Alright," Keiji nodded, falling silently into step behind her, trailing half a body length behind.
He'd been living among the Uchiha for a month now—he was well aware of where his assigned room was.
Yet Mikoto still insisted on guiding him.
They walked side by side for a while, turning a corner.
Then, Mikoto spoke:
"The Sharingan is a rare kekkei genkai. I imagine in the Land of Lightning, it must have drawn all sorts of stares, right, Keiji?"
She turned her head slightly, lowering her gaze to the boy walking beside her—shorter than her by a good margin.
Before Keiji could reply, Mikoto offered a gentle smile and added:
"No need to call me 'sama'. It sounds so distant. You can call me onee-san instead. And if you're ever feeling troubled, you can always come talk to me."
Her words carried a warmth—genuine care for Keiji.
"Mikoto-da... Mikoto-neesan, you're really kind. It's been a long time since anyone cared about me," Keiji said, his voice full of emotion.
He paused, then as if remembering something, added:
"But still, no one's actually done anything to me. Most people haven't even seen my crimson eye."
[Skill: Art of Speaking (White)]
—Still active.
The words Keiji spoke were laced with sincerity.
But inside, he remained perfectly calm.
Even now, they were testing him.
Mikoto might play the part of a housewife after retirement, but make no mistake—she was once a true jonin.
And shinobi... have never been agents of justice.
Beneath the surface glamor of missions and adventure, the shadows run deep:
Poisoning. Espionage. Assassination.
These were the true rhythms of a ninja's life.
"I see. That's good to hear," Mikoto replied with a soft smile.
Children that young often let things slip unconsciously.
It seemed highly likely Keiji really was innocent.
She relaxed—just a little, but the wariness in her heart remained. The truth would take time to reveal itself.
They continued walking, and soon arrived at Keiji's room.
"Just wait a bit longer—they should be arriving soon," Mikoto said.
"Alright."
Keiji waited quietly inside while Mikoto stepped out.
"Time to start getting stronger."
He knew this peace wouldn't last long.
The Third Great Ninja War was about to erupt.
Konoha would be invaded all the way to Kikyō Pass—just a short distance from the village itself.
Kumogakure might present the best opportunity.
After failing to acquire Uchiha blood, they had sent spies to orchestrate an "accidental encounter" with him.
Keiji didn't report it.
In Konoha, where the class structure was rigid and unmoving, Kumogakure's offer could open doors to greater benefits.
After a moment's thought, Keiji closed his eyes and began chakra refining practice.
Before him, a translucent screen slowly materialized.
[Trait: Muscle Memory (White)]
[Unlock Requirement: Repeat a complex, demanding training task until it forms an unconscious habit.]
[Progress: 99%]
[Effect: After performing a motion repeatedly, your muscles begin to adapt, executing the movement automatically via reflex.
Your muscle memory efficiency is 10% higher than average.
Note: Currently, incorrect muscle memory cannot be purged.]
[Note: Can be further evolved in the future.]
This was the trait Keiji was about to unlock.
He stared at the glowing text on the panel.
If all went as expected, he'd acquire it within the next three days.
Since arriving in Konoha, he had performed chakra refining exercises every single day.
It was a trait with immense potential.
Once he obtained it, he would be able to learn any skill far faster than the average shinobi.
Currently, [Muscle Memory (White)] couldn't correct faulty movement patterns. Keiji would still have to fix mistakes manually.
But the system explicitly said, "currently"—which meant the evolved form might be able to auto-correct someday.
Also, if 10% was just the base level... the ceiling could be much higher.
Eventually, he might reach the point where his body could permanently imprint a movement after just one repetition.
About half an hour later
"Sorry to keep you waiting, Keiji."
Mikoto returned, this time with two kunoichi behind her.
The woman in front had a curvaceous figure, her long blonde hair tied back, a diamond mark gleaming on her forehead.
The moment Keiji saw her, he recognized her instantly.
106 centimeters.
Only Tsunade possessed such an... unmistakable presence.
One of the legendary Three Sannin.
Behind her was another kunoichi, quieter, with short black hair and a calm demeanor.
Shizune.
Tsunade's ever-present companion.
Keiji kept his expression neutral, analyzing the intel silently.
It was already after the Second Great Ninja War—Tsunade had lost her lover, Dan Kato, and developed hemophobia.
As a result, she had taken Dan's niece, Shizune, under her wing.
"This is Tsunade, and this is Shizune," Mikoto introduced the two.
"Nice to meet you both," Keiji greeted politely.
Even though Shizune was only slightly older than him, his tone remained equally respectful.
"Go on, show us that Sharingan," Tsunade said bluntly, in stark contrast to her beautiful features.
Clearly, she didn't want to be here.
At her command, Keiji closed his eyes.
When they reopened, his left eye burned crimson, a single tomoe spinning slowly within it.
His right eye remained pitch black—just an ordinary eye.
"Definitely unusual," Tsunade muttered.
Her fingers, polished with deep red nail polish, pulled down his eyelid for a better look.
Up close, Keiji could even catch a faint whiff of her perfume.
After about five minutes, she let go.
"Any changes you've noticed?"
"I feel like my physical condition has been improving," Keiji replied.
"And?"
Tsunade's gaze narrowed, scrutinizing him.
Her granduncle was one of the foremost researchers on the Uchiha. She knew more than most.
Uchiha were infamous for emotional instability once their Sharingan awakened.
Keiji's response... half transformation?
"Nothing else," he answered earnestly.
Tsunade continued her inspection, running tests Keiji couldn't begin to understand—he had no medical ninjutsu training. He simply let her probe and examine freely.
Meanwhile, Shizune—who had remained silent the whole time—stole quick glances at Keiji from the corner of her eye.