The afternoon sunlight filtered through the treetops, casting dappled shadows across the bluestone path. The midday heat had faded, leaving only a gentle warmth.
The clan meeting had ended, and Uchiha Ren and Mikoto were walking along the bluestone path in the clan district.
"Now that we've excluded the Genin, the clan has fifty-eight Three Tomoe members, thirty-two Jonin, and five hundred and eighty Chunin."
The number Mikoto quietly recited was enough to shock the shinobi villages of the Five Great Nations. It was an utterly terrifying force.
Yet a faint trace of regret crossed her delicate face.
"Grandfather once said that during the Warring States period, the clan had at least a hundred Three Tomoe elites. That was how the clan dominated the Land of Fire."
Mikoto lowered her lashes, her voice full of feeling. "Our total numbers are far greater now, but the proportion of top-tier fighters is... nowhere near what it was."
Seeing the wistful look on her face, as if "the Uchiha really get worse with every generation" were practically written across it, Ren couldn't help laughing. Instead, he teased her about her own words.
"When you learned how our clan members awakened their eyes, wasn't there someone who wished none of them ever had to go through that?"
"So why are you now..."
"Ren—"
"Things are different now."
Seeing that they were alone, Mikoto playfully took the young man's arm. She lifted her lovely, unadorned face, her cheeks unconsciously puffing out in a rare show of petulance.
"This time, we have to face a great-nation shinobi village on our own. No matter how strong we are, there'll always be times when two fists can't fight off four hands."
"Don't worry."
Ren slowed his pace and turned to look at Mikoto beside him, strolling along as