The warm autumn sun filtered through the maple leaves in the Senju Clan's courtyard, casting dappled golden shadows across the flagstones. Dozens of low tables had been arranged in rows in the middle of the courtyard, and everyone was gathered around them, chatting animatedly.
Though Senba sat quietly at the end of the seating area, his back ramrod straight, only he knew what kind of torture he was enduring. Just as he felt he was about to pass out from hunger, a rich, inexplicable aroma suddenly swooped into his nose as if it had grown wings.
The sweet scent of fried rice cakes mingled with red bean soup. Senba's tightly held composure began to crumble despite himself. In his eyes, countless little hands seemed to be straining to burst free and reach for the source of that delicious aroma.
He stiffly turned his head and followed the scent. Several women dressed as maids were carrying trays, smiling as they headed toward the young people's tables. The boys, Senba included, lit up with delight. Kids their age were naturally energetic and burned through plenty of calories. These treats had arrived just in time.
The clan elder presiding over the meeting saw what was happening. It wasn't exactly proper, but he recognized Lady Momoka's personal maids, so he said nothing.
Soon Senba was still sitting ramrod straight, his posture impeccable. But his hands moved as quickly as if he were performing Hand Seals. The instant the maid set the treats on the table, he began eating at a speed that left everyone dumbfounded.
The golden fried rice cakes had crisp outsides and soft, chewy centers. The fried meatballs were bursting with juice, and the red bean soup was sweet without being cloying. Its warm broth slid down his throat and soothed his hungry stomach.
The boys his age sitting beside him had been eating cautiously, but when they noticed Senba's pace, they gradually let go of their restraint and happily dug in.
"So he was just hungry? No wonder he seemed different from what the reports said."
Tsunade, sitting beside Grandma Momoka, furtively pulled out a delicate little flask and took a sip. Only then did she look relieved. "Grandma, it's time. I'll go greet my teacher and the others."
With that, she got up while Senju Momoka seemed half asleep. Grandma really was getting old. She'd moved slowly in the back courtyard earlier, but she'd still seemed energetic. Now, after sitting for only a short while, she was already flagging.
At the sound of Tsunade leaving, Senju Momoka slowly opened her eyes. She glanced outside at everyone tidying their clothes in preparation to welcome the Lord Third, then let her eyelids droop again, so as not to give anyone the wrong idea.
The fried rice cakes and red bean soup had finally settled Senba's stomach. When everyone stood up, he realized the Lord Third had arrived. He straightened his clothes and stood behind the others, quietly watching the controversial Lord Third.
The early-autumn air had begun to turn chilly, but within the high walls of the Uchiha Clan Compound, the Uchiha felt even colder than the weather.
Whenever villagers passed by outside the walls, they instinctively quickened their pace. Their evasive glances pricked at every Uchiha's sensitive heart like tiny thorns.
In the dimly lit clan meeting hall, candlelight flickered, casting half of Uchiha Fugaku's face in light and half in shadow. Seated at the head of the table, he tapped his fingertips lightly against its surface, his gaze fixed on the boy in clan attire below him.
"Shisui," Fugaku said in a low voice, his tone carrying unquestionable authority. "The Nine-Tails' Rampage has only deepened the village's suspicions of us. You're the most talented young member of our clan. I've already recommended you to the Lord Third and asked him to let you join the Anbu. I hope you can ease the tensions between both sides."
Shisui stiffened slightly and raised his head. His Sharingan eyes were calm and unreadable, showing neither surprise nor resistance.
He already knew the clan's predicament and understood the village's concerns. He, too, hoped he could reconcile his clan and the village. It was the task his clan head had entrusted to him, and his own wish as well.
"I understand." Shisui's voice was gentle, but held a resolve beyond his years. "I'll join the Anbu."
A hint of approval flickered in Fugaku's eyes, quickly replaced by deep worry. "Remember, you're an Uchiha. In the Anbu, you must serve the village, but you must also fight for the status and respect your clan deserves."
"Don't worry, clan head. I understand," Shisui said with a slight nod.
Only then did Uchiha Fugaku feel somewhat relieved. He knew that many in the clan were growing increasingly discontent with the village, especially after clan elder Uchiha Setsuna had been released. The elder, who had a history of attempting to defect, was now quietly becoming the leader of the hardliners. By contrast, Fugaku had to favor the moderates to keep them in check.
I hope we can find a solution that satisfies both sides. At the very least, Mikoto and the other two must not get caught up in this.
Watching Shisui leave, Uchiha Fugaku thought to himself.
Senba felt that something was wrong with his body. A strange weakness had come over him—not in his physical strength or Chakra, but in his very essence.
My mind is clear, and my body and Chakra are functioning normally. Could it be... With that thought, Senba slipped into an unnoticed corner, closed his eyes, and used a little trick to put himself into a brief, hypnotic sleep.
In the dark space, Senba appeared before Senba of the Forest, who sat cross-legged on the ground. The latter looked gravely at the Chakra Flame in front of him, both hands thrust into it as if holding something up.
"Original, something's wrong. There was something in the food you just ate. It contained a drug that can suppress the power of the bloodline within you. Someone set you up."
Senba of the Forest's words made Senba furrow his brow. He hadn't expected anything like this to happen. But why?
His bloodline could only benefit the Senju Clan. Besides, Senju Momoka was friends with his grandfather, Miki, and Grandpa Yunhua's attitude toward him made it clear that Senju Momoka shouldn't have tried to harm him. So was there another reason?
Thinking about it, Senba recalled today's gathering. A clan gathering, guests... the Lord Third?
"Senba of the Forest, don't stop the bloodline from falling dormant!"
At his original self's command, Senba of the Forest immediately withdrew his hands. The next moment, he grew drowsy. Struggling to keep his eyes open, he looked at Senba. "Original, take care!"
With that, Senba of the Forest seemed to turn to stone, sitting silently on the ground.
When Senba opened his eyes again, he ignored the boy his age beside him, who had given him a thumbs-up. The other boy clearly admired that he could still fall asleep in a setting like this.
Senba looked toward Senju Momoka, who sat at the head of the table, chatting amiably with the Lord Third. She still looked extremely old, her whole body radiating a decaying aura.
But after what had just happened, Senba's wariness of the old woman had risen to its highest level. How could someone who had survived the chaos of the Warring States era be simple?
The older, the wiser.
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