The crowd in the assembly hall gradually dispersed. The heavy wooden doors opened and closed one final time, shutting out the whispers of the last few elders. Only two people remained in the empty Japanese-style room. The lingering chakra aftershocks from the fierce battle had yet to fully fade, and a faint scorched scent hung in the air, mingling with the cool fragrance of incense in the corner.
Kyohaku Uchiha walked to the window and pushed open the one facing the courtyard. The evening breeze rushed in, dispersing the stifling heat indoors and gently stirring his long, spiky black hair. The crisp clack of the bamboo water fountain striking stone rang out from the yard, making the room seem even quieter.
He turned around and looked at Fugaku Uchiha, who still stood where he was, his body slightly rigid. The former clan head had his back to him, staring blankly at the Uchiha Clan's fan crest on the wall. Its sharply divided red-and-white pattern seemed to burn soundlessly beneath the wavering lamplight.
"Still thinking about that battle?" Kyohaku asked calmly, without a trace of a victor's arrogance.
Fugaku's shoulders tensed almost imperceptibly before slowly relaxing. He turned around. Deep within his eyes, which had only just lost the scarlet of the Mangekyō Sharingan, lingered unmistakable exhaustion and shock that had yet to subside. "Susanoo... the godly power of Uchiha legend..." His voice was low and slightly hoarse. "I never imagined it could be shattered head-on like that."
"There is more than one form of strength." Kyohaku returned to the center of the hall and casually sat on a cushion, gesturing to the spot opposite him. "Sit, Senior Fugaku."
Fugaku hesitated slightly, but still sat as requested. He retained the Uchiha's customary restraint and stiffness, though much of the sharpness in