Sharingan? Useless.

After school the next day, Nawaki came again.

He felt a lot like a twenty-first-century parent—waiting at the school gate every day right on time, only missing a little stool and a bag of sunflower seeds.

He had arrived five minutes earlier than yesterday. Not because he was anxious.

He wanted to see whether Mikoto would still come out with Kushina.

The bell rang.

A red head popped out of the crowd first.

Kushina ran in front as usual. Half a step behind her was a black-haired girl.

Mikoto.

Nawaki noticed one detail—today, Mikoto walked to Kushina's right. Yesterday, she had walked on the left.

The right side was closer to the street and offered a broader view.

She was watching to see if anyone was keeping an eye on her.

"Nawaki! You came to pick us up again today!"

Kushina bounced over, her attention entirely fixed on the paper bag in Nawaki's left hand.

"What tasty thing did you bring?"

"Taiyaki. Fresh out of the pan."

"Two?"

"Three."

Kushina grinned and looked back at Mikoto. Mikoto said nothing. Her steps slowed for a beat, and she stopped two meters away from Nawaki.

Yesterday, it had been three meters.

Progress.

Nawaki handed the bag to Kushina and let her distribute them. He leaned back against the wall and looked at Mikoto. "How many did you beat in taijutsu class today?"

"We didn't fight," Mikoto said.

"Why not?"

"The teacher changed the assessment. It became a written ninjutsu theory exam."

Nawaki raised a brow. News that Mikoto had thrown three boys in taijutsu class yesterday had spread throughout the school, and today the teacher had cut taijutsu from the lesson.

The Uchiha Clan's face-saving measures were pretty efficient.

"What place did you get on the written test?"

"First."

"That'll make people hate you even more."

Mikoto's lips twitched. She did not smile, but her gaze relaxed just a little.

She accepted the taiyaki Kushina handed her, lowered her head, and took a bite. Her eyes narrowed slightly.

Nawaki remembered that expression.

The three of them had taken fewer than ten steps forward.

"Mikoto."

The voice came from the side street to their right. It was not loud, but every syllable was pronounced clearly.

Fugaku stepped out of the alley.

Today, he wore a formal dark-blue clan uniform, with a short sword at his waist. It was not a ninja tool, but a ceremonial blade worn only during Uchiha clan meetings.

He had just finished a clan meeting and come specifically to block them.

Two young Uchiha clan members stood behind him, fifteen or sixteen years old, their chins held high.

Mikoto stopped.

Nawaki saw the fingers holding her taiyaki tighten, then quickly hide the unfinished taiyaki behind her back.

That movement said more than any expression could.

She was afraid Fugaku would see her eating something another man had given her.

Fugaku did not look at the taiyaki. His gaze passed over Mikoto and nailed itself to Nawaki's face.

"Nawaki Senju."

"Oh, the young Uchiha clan leader." Nawaki smiled. "Picking someone up again? You're really punctual, like you've got a tracking device installed."

Fugaku ignored him.

He walked up to Mikoto and turned sideways, blocking Nawaki's view.

"You missed yesterday's clan meeting. The elders are unhappy."

"I was at school," Mikoto said.

"You could have taken leave."

"I can't fall behind in my studies."

Fugaku fell silent for a second. He turned and looked at Nawaki again, his tone even colder than yesterday.

"Nawaki Senju, I'll say this once. Mikoto belongs to the Uchiha Clan. Her marriage will be decided by the clan. What kind of behavior is it for you to loiter around the school gate every day?"

Kushina let out a "Huh?" and nearly dropped her taiyaki.

Nawaki nudged her half a step behind him and took a step forward himself.

"Young Clan Leader Fugaku, get one thing straight. I came to pick up Kushina. Mikoto is her friend, so she came along. If you didn't have a guilty conscience, would you be this anxious?"

Fugaku's mouth tightened.

The two Uchiha clan members behind him moved at the same time—their hands went to the ninja tool pouches at their waists.

The pedestrians on the street sensed that something was wrong and consciously gave them a wide berth.

Nawaki did not look at the two of them. He stared into Fugaku's eyes, his smile unchanged.

"You want to fight in the street? The young Uchiha clan leader blocking a twelve-year-old student at the school gate after class—would that sound good if word got out?"

Fugaku raised a hand, stopping the two men behind him.

"I have no intention of fighting. I'm only here to pick up my fiancée." He paused, then suddenly lowered his voice. "Nawaki Senju, you've drawn enough attention these past two days. Wood Release, savior—it doesn't matter. But some things aren't yours to take just by stepping over others."

His eyes changed.

Within his black pupils, one tomoe slowly spun into existence. Then a second. A third.

Three-Tomoe Sharingan.

Right there in the street, in front of Mikoto and Kushina, he activated it.

He was not planning to fight.

It was intimidation. The Sharingan's genjutsu interference was enough to cause ordinary ninja brief dizziness and heart palpitations. It left no injuries, but its effect was harsher than a punch to the face.

This was the Uchiha Clan's most common method for dealing with opponents who were "not worth fighting."

Mikoto's expression changed. "Fugaku, you—"

Too late.

The genjutsu had already been released.

An invisible wave of chakra spread from Fugaku's pupils, locking onto Nawaki's nervous system.

The person before him should have lost focus for half a second, his pupils scattering and his breathing turning erratic. Then Fugaku could take Mikoto and leave, abandoning Nawaki Senju to lose face on the spot.

One second passed.

Nawaki stood where he was, utterly motionless.

His expression did not even change.

Fugaku frowned.

Inside Nawaki's body, the chakra of his Sage Body did not even need to be consciously summoned. The instant that genjutsu wave touched his nerves, it circulated on its own and washed the invading chakra away completely.

Like blasting a mosquito with a fire hose.

"Done?" Nawaki tilted his head, sounding excessively sincere. "It was pretty itchy. Got any more?"

Fugaku's three tomoe abruptly contracted.

The two Uchiha clan members behind him looked at each other. No effect? The genjutsu of a Three-Tomoe Sharingan had no effect?

"The Sharingan—" Nawaki took a step forward, closing the distance between himself and Fugaku to less than half a meter. His voice was not loud, but everyone on the street could hear him.

"It doesn't work on Wood Release. Didn't your clan head teach you that common knowledge? Or does Uchiha history class only cover the parts where you won?"

Fugaku's face turned iron-gray.

He was a genius. The greatest genius among the Uchiha Clan's younger generation. A Three-Tomoe Sharingan, unmatched among his peers.

Being exposed to ridicule by a twelve-year-old child hurt ten times worse than taking a punch.

Mikoto stood between them, the taiyaki in her hand already crushed out of shape. Her lips parted.

"Enough, both of—"

"Don't interrupt." Fugaku threw out those three words without even turning his head.

Mikoto's voice caught in her throat.

Her hand fell to her side.

The words were not harsh. Just three words, without any particles or extra embellishment.

But everyone on the street saw Mikoto's expression.

That practiced, familiar silence.

Nawaki watched the scene, and his smile vanished.

He put away every trace of his flippant disguise and gave Fugaku a long, serious look.

Then he looked past Fugaku at Mikoto.

"Mikoto."

Mikoto looked up.

"Are you happy living with the Uchiha Clan?"

The question was too direct. So direct that Mikoto's whole body froze.

Fugaku's face darkened further. "Nawaki Senju, you—"

"I wasn't asking you." Nawaki did not even look at him as he continued speaking to Mikoto. "Will you marry whoever the Uchiha Clan tells you to marry? Will you shut up whenever they tell you to? You were pretty impressive when you were throwing people around in class, so why do you go quiet in front of this man?"

Mikoto's pupils shook violently.

Not in anger.

She had been struck where it hurt.

"I'll tell you one thing. Just remember it." Nawaki's voice was quiet, and he spoke slowly.

"The doors of the Senju Clan Compound will always be open to you. Not to make you marry anyone, not to make you some clan matriarch. It's just that—if one day you don't want to endure it anymore, you'll have somewhere to go."

The street fell silent for three seconds.

Fugaku grabbed Mikoto's wrist, his grip tight enough to make her frown.

"Let's go."

He turned and left. The two Uchiha clan members followed close behind.

Mikoto was dragged forward two steps before she half turned her head.

She did not say anything. But she looked at Nawaki.

Something had shattered in that gaze, and something else had just begun to emerge.

The three figures vanished around the street corner.

Kushina slowly let out a breath and stuffed the crushed taiyaki into her mouth. "Pah, that Fugaku. I really want to punch him to death."

"You can't beat him." Nawaki withdrew his gaze.

"...You can't beat him either?"

"Right now? It'd be tough." Nawaki spoke honestly. "He's already at the level of a quasi-elite jōnin. A Three-Tomoe Sharingan isn't for show. It was only useless because he tried to use it to scare me."

Kushina chewed her taiyaki and asked indistinctly, "Then what about Mikoto?"

Nawaki did not answer.

He crouched down, picked up the crushed scraps of taiyaki Mikoto had dropped, and tossed them into a roadside trash bin.

"Wait."

"Wait for what?"

"Wait for him to push Mikoto over to us himself."

Three days later.

A mission scroll stamped with the Hokage's personal seal was delivered to the Senju Clan Compound.

Nawaki unrolled the scroll and read through it line by line.

A joint A-rank suppression mission. A bandit stronghold on the northwestern border of the Land of Fire.

Leader: Fugaku Uchiha.

On the third line of the team roster, the words "Nawaki Senju" had been traced over heavily in red ink.

Nawaki closed the scroll.

A system panel silently appeared.

[High-risk mission detected. The mission leader has an antagonistic relationship with the host. There is an extremely high risk of the host being targeted by an "accident" during the mission.]

[Recommendation: Decline participation.]

Nawaki crossed out the recommendation.

He stood and walked to the window, looking at the newly grown treetops outside the Senju Clan Compound.

"Who said I was going to hide?"

He rolled up the scroll and tucked it into his chest.

The curve of his lips widened, but there was not a trace of amusement in his eyes.

"Fugaku wants to get rid of me on the battlefield. Danzō wants to kill with a borrowed blade. Then let's go. I want to see—"

Footsteps came from the doorway.

Tsunade pushed the door open and walked in, unusually without the smell of alcohol on her. She held a scroll in her hand as well.

"Nawaki. This mission—"

"I know, sis."

Tsunade stared at him for two seconds.

"You're going?"

"If I don't, there'll be a second time, a third time." Nawaki took the scroll from Tsunade's hand and glanced at it. "And—the seventh line of the roster. Sis, take a look."

Tsunade lowered her head to read.

The seventh line.

Mikoto Uchiha.