In the Raikage's office, Uchiha Makoto let out a deep, dramatic sigh, his face a perfect mask of heartbreak and resignation—like he was genuinely ashamed of his reckless brothers. His tone was so heavy you'd think the world was ending.
He kicked things off with a vibe that screamed, "I'm about to flip the script."
"Those two knuckleheads," he said, shaking his head. "Young, dumb, and no vision. Their world's this small." He held up his right hand, pinching his thumb and index finger so close you could barely see light between them, his expression dripping with exasperation and a touch of "I expected better."
"They're impulsive as hell," he went on. "No brain, all brawn. Only thing on their minds was dragging me back to the Leaf Village, zero regard for the bigger picture. Messed up your village's order, stirred up trouble—sorry about that, y'all."
Makoto played the polite card, then flipped the switch, his voice dropping like he was about to drop a bombshell. "But don't worry, I've been laying into them—heart-to-heart, reason and all that jazz. They've finally seen the light. Realized they screwed up big time."
"Man, they were bawling their eyes out, ready to tie a noose and swing from the nearest tree."
He tossed it out casually, like it was no big deal, but then came the nuke: "Probably because my heartfelt pep talk hit so hard, they both—boom—unlocked their Mangekyo Sharingan."
He said it like he was commenting on the weather. "You know, the same eyes Uchiha Madara, the Ninja World's Grim Reaper, had. Their power? Not quite Madara's peak, but among Kage-level shinobi? They're beasts."
With that light flex, Makoto "accidentally" let slip that Uchiha Itachi and Uchiha Shisui had leveled up—hard. A not-so-subtle warning to Cloud Village: Think twice before you try anything shady, 'cause next time, you're not dealing with the same Itachi and Shisui from last week.
Hiding his strength? Nah, that ain't Makoto's style. If he'd unlocked his own Mangekyo, he'd probably be rolling up to the Raikage's building in a Susanoo right now, flexing on everybody.
"So, let's call it water under the bridge, yeah? Give me, Uchiha Makoto, some face and let this slide." He spread his hands, flashing a sincere grin, then kept going. "We gotta think big, keep our eyes on the prize. Unite all the power we can and build a future together—for my Cloud Village. Whaddaya say?"
He pointed at the watermelon and fried chicken on the desk. "Little gift, no biggie. Don't sweat it. Only you, Raikage, get this kinda treatment. If it was the Hokage? He wouldn't even get a moldy apple."
To save Itachi and Shisui, Makoto had burned one of his lives—straight-up. Letting them take the fall for some minor shade? Pfft, he didn't lose a wink of sleep over it. As for why Itachi and Shisui were in mortal danger? Uh, let's not ask the Ultraman of the ninja world about such dark-ass questions.
Right then, the Fourth Raikage finally snapped out of the info overload, his brain still rebooting. Nobody could blame him—your VIP gets kidnapped, the whole village is in crisis mode, planning a rescue op. Before you even finalize the details, the dude strolls back in like it's Tuesday, bringing souvenirs and apologies for his crew? Oh, and by the way, his boys unlocked the same eyes as Uchiha Madara?
When "Mangekyo Sharingan" and "Kage-level" hit his ears, the Raikage's pupils shrank, a flicker of dread flashing in his eyes. The Uchiha clan—how the hell do they keep popping out prodigies like weeds? Two teenage Kage-level shinobi, out of nowhere? But that fear quickly melted into a burning hunger.
Hold up, he thought. With Makoto as the middleman, could Cloud Village poach those two Uchiha geniuses without breaking a sweat? They clearly cared about Makoto—enough to storm Cloud Village and snatch him, risking their necks. That kind of loyalty could be leveraged.
The rest of the room was still frozen, like they'd been hit with a group paralysis jutsu, staring at this wildcard who played by no one's rules. Their CPUs were frying, trying to process the chaos.
Killer B was the first to shake off the daze—mostly 'cause the sight of Makoto made his half-healed wounds throb. As the perfect Eight-Tails Jinchuriki, B was used to dishing out Tailed Beast Bombs, not eating them. That fight? Pain. Physical, emotional, straight-up humiliating.
"Yo, you little punk! Dumbass!" B snapped, leaning forward, yanking off his shades for maximum glare, trying to beam his rage straight into Makoto's soul. He didn't dare throw hands in front of the Raikage, so this was his best shot.
"B! Shut your trap!" the Raikage roared, his voice like a thunderclap, laced with a "keep yapping and I'll deck you" vibe.
B caught his big bro's death stare and deflated like a popped balloon. The Raikage didn't play when it came to discipline. B clammed up, muttering some half-assed rhymes under his breath, still salty, shooting Makoto dirty looks, hoping for an apology.
Makoto wasn't having it. You old geezer, if you hadn't pushed my buttons, would I have burned a revive token? He spun around, locking eyes with B. "The hell you staring at?"
"I'm carrying the glory and future of the new Uchiha clan on these shoulders. Who the hell are you to glare at me?" Makoto snapped. "And let's be real—couldn't you have just talked it out that night? Sat down, sipped some tea, hashed it out like adults? Everything's negotiable, right?"
"But no, you had to open with a recruitment pitch. If you'd played it cool, I could've sweet-talked them into joining Cloud Village, starting a new Uchiha branch. Win-win, baby! Instead, you yeet a Tailed Beast Bomb at my face? And now you got the balls to glare? You think you're hot shit?"
"You think I'm an easy mark? Want me to call Itachi and Shisui back for a rematch? Settle it in the ring—winner takes all, loser's donezo."
B was this close to going full Tailed Beast mode. New Uchiha clan's future? Future, my ass! Makoto was a one-man show, the only Uchiha left, and he'd nearly cleaned out the village's jutsu vault a few days ago. Now he's preaching about glory? And two teenage Uchihas with Mangekyo? B wasn't scared. Bring it, I'll throw down.
His chest heaved, ready to pop off, but another glare from the Raikage shut him down. "Hurts… wanna cry…" B mumbled, sliding his shades back on, sulking in the corner, hugging his 300-pound self like a kicked puppy.
The Raikage's eyes locked back on Makoto, a storm of emotions swirling. Relief hit first—the kid was back, half the crisis solved. But that faded fast, replaced by raging fury and sheer absurdity. The jutsu vault getting jacked was a capital offense in any ninja village. Even a Kage backing you wouldn't save your ass from max punishment.
Yet this kid was standing there, grinning like a jackass?
The Raikage's forehead veins pulsed, his fists clenching, blue sparks crackling around them. If it was anyone else—even B—he'd have thrown a punch already. His voice cut like a blade. "Makoto, clan head… you led them to the jutsu vault, didn't you?"
You talk loyalty all day, but your actions? Shady as hell. The vault's location was top-secret, guarded like Fort Knox. Two outsiders like Shisui and Itachi finding it and breaching security? No way—unless they had an inside man. And anyone with half a brain could point the finger at Makoto. He'd been in Cloud Village for over a year, with high clearance, and ANBU had clocked him sniffing around the vault before.
Makoto just shrugged, flashing his signature "who, me?" grin, and threw Shisui and Itachi under the bus without blinking. "Raikage, you can eat that watermelon and chicken all day, but don't go throwing shade without receipts."
"It was my bros who went rogue. I had nothing to do with it. I'm just a pure, innocent clan head, minding my business."
Not wanting to dwell, he switched gears, going for the kill. "But look, even though I couldn't stop them, I've been working overtime, talking sense into them. And like I said, it worked! They're sorry, ready to turn over a new leaf."
With a casual flourish, Makoto threw together a few hand signs. Poof—a puff of smoke rose.