The founding of Konoha was only a few decades ago. Before that, the world had been plunged into a chaotic Warring States period, with various shinobi clans locked in constant battle.
Because of that history, the world still harbored a wide variety of deeply rooted cultural differences.
In the team led by Jiraiya—Team Six, the one Minato was part of—there was once a dark-skinned young man with plump, sausage-like lips. He even made a brief appearance in "Minato's Tale: Whirlwind in the Whirlpool", which focused on how Minato developed the Rasengan, as well as Kushina's quiet struggles living in Konoha.
"You'll always be one of us, a shinobi of the Hidden Cloud," said Samodo.
He paused, then continued with a softer tone:
"When you graduate and complete your first official mission, we'll take you with us. You'll enter Kumogakure and receive our finest training."
The current political climate was tense, with clear signs that a Third Great Ninja War was on the horizon. Now wasn't the best time to forcibly take Keiji away. They needed to wait until the chaos erupted—until the village lost its grip.
"You will become the first clan head of the Uchiha in the Hidden Cloud!" Samodo declared, his voice laced with passion.
But Keiji didn't echo his enthusiasm.
He wasn't the type to be swayed by lofty promises—he'd seen plenty of those before.
"The Uchiha have treated me well," Keiji said pointedly. "They even taught me their clan's ninjutsu…"
His meaning was clear.
Samodo instantly understood—this was a negotiation. Keiji was naming his price.
"Lord Raikage values you highly," Samodo replied quickly. "He even allowed us to bring a few ninjutsu scrolls as a sign of goodwill."
He produced a scroll and offered it.
Keiji accepted it and unrolled the parchment. It was a D-rank jutsu scroll titled "Lightning Style: Spark Finger".
In the shinobi world, a jutsu's rank didn't necessarily reflect its power, but rather its learning difficulty.
E-rank techniques were taught to academy students.
D-rank was suited for genin.
C-rank for chūnin.
B-rank for jonin.
Beyond that level, most shinobi were left behind.
An average jonin might only master a few B-rank techniques in their entire lifetime.
A-rank techniques were often labeled forbidden, belonging to a rare category of high-level jutsu.
These weren't just difficult to learn—they required exceptional physical and chakra reserves. Many of them came at great personal cost, draining the user's life force or risking death.
Those without abundant chakra had no business dreaming of learning A-rank jutsu.
Anyone who could master one, however, would instantly stand out among their peers.
So while rank didn't always equate to power, the harder a jutsu was to learn, the more exceptional its effect often was.
At the very top sat the S-rank techniques—called secret arts, ultimate techniques, or simply the forbidden tier.
Keiji skimmed through the "Lightning Style: Spark Finger" scroll. It could only stimulate the cells in the index and middle finger, and the "spark" it created was barely visible—tiny arcs of electricity, faint and nearly invisible to the naked eye.
Samodo caught the change in Keiji's expression and smiled faintly, his eyes narrowing into slits.
"We've got informants in Konoha," he said softly. "You haven't really learned Uchiha ninjutsu, have you? There's no need to fool yourself. They don't acknowledge you—but we do. If you want access to more powerful jutsu, return to the Hidden Cloud."
His tone was smooth, persuasive—like missing this opportunity would mean losing the only chance to change his fate.
"I'll think about it," Keiji replied calmly.
With that, he took the scroll and walked away.
The Hidden Cloud wasn't stupid. They weren't about to shower him with resources all at once.
They'd try to tempt him instead—slowly, methodically.
"Lord Samodo,"
After Keiji left, Samodo emerged from the hidden room and ascended to the third floor of the shop, gazing down at the passing pedestrians.
It was late. The shop didn't stay open at night, and most of the other customers had already trickled out. The remaining clerks were beginning to clean up.
"Yagetsu Keiji… probably has no intention of returning to Kumogakure," said Samui, her voice calm and analytical.
She was always one to think things through.
Samodo had just claimed that the Uchiha rejected Keiji, refusing to teach him ninjutsu.
But that was likely just temporary.
Eventually, if the Uchiha came to see Keiji as worthy, they'd surely share their techniques.
Samui didn't believe Keiji would give up that opportunity. If anything, she and Samodo were wasting their time.
"No… he will, eventually," Samodo replied with a faint smile.
Let Samui question him—he didn't mind.
His brother was part of Kumogakure's militant faction, and Samodo knew more than he let on.
The shinobi world was already churning with unrest.
The village elders were no longer content with the status quo.
The militant faction was waiting—waiting for the perfect moment to ignite war again.
Far away, Keiji stood amidst the crowd, his expression hidden beneath the veil of night.
His face was calm, unreadable.
When no one was watching, his left eye slowly opened—a single-tomoe Sharingan quietly activated.
Special chakra known as dojutsu power began to circulate.
With that eye, even distant figures at the sushi shop that once looked like tiny shadows became crystal clear.
Even with only one tomoe, his vision had sharpened to a terrifying degree—every detail as vivid as if right before him.
He could even make out the subtle shifts in Samodo and Samui's expressions as they spoke on the third floor.
In Boruto, even Sarada—with just a three-tomoe Sharingan—could focus her vision to the point of seeing airborne viruses.
Keiji's one-tomoe Sharingan already let him see clearly over a hundred meters away.
Reading their lips, he quickly pieced together the gist of their conversation.
Lowering his head, he muttered to himself:
"The Uchiha won't acknowledge me… but when did the Hidden Cloud ever truly accept me?"
His gaze lifted again, lingering on the silhouette of Samui on the third floor.
Neither the Uchiha nor the Hidden Cloud were his true home.
The Uchiha were simply being cautious. They didn't want to set a precedent—if they welcomed someone like Keiji too openly, it might backfire and draw unwanted consequences. Outsiders with Uchiha blood might feel emboldened to claim kinship, creating diplomatic or political tension.
It wasn't a gamble the Uchiha were willing to take.
As for Kumogakure—they didn't care about him as a person.
All they wanted was to exploit his Uchiha bloodline—to use him as a breeding tool, a weapon to strengthen the village.
They would drain him dry.
Even the official databooks described the Hidden Cloud as a clan operating like a mafia syndicate.
A society obsessed with military conquest.
Keiji's fingers ran across the rough edge of the scroll.
His eyes locked onto Samui's figure once more. A shadow of deeper meaning passed through his gaze.
If that's how they wanted to play it… then he had every reason to use his own tricks to carve out more advantage for himself.
In the following days, Keiji's life settled into a steady routine.
Ninja academy. Training. Home.
Rinse and repeat.
Until the sixth day—when he returned once again to that same sushi shop.
"Yoru—ah, customer… Are you here for the squid sushi again?" Samui asked.
But Keiji didn't respond like last time.
He looked at her, his voice calm but firm:
"Miss Samui… you wouldn't want to be the reason I end up at odds with the Hidden Cloud, would you?"