Main World.
Summer, Year 25 of Konoha.
The Imperial Palace, in the garden.
On a summer evening, the setting sun dyed the sky gold and red. The cicadas in the garden had finally tired after calling all day, leaving only a few scattered cries, as though bidding the day a final farewell.
Toyotomi Ryukōshi sat in the pavilion, holding a glass of juice and drinking it in small sips. He was four this year, dressed in a little dark gray clan uniform, his short black hair stirring gently in the breeze. His eyes were golden-golden Sharingan, with a single tomoe slowly revolving within them. This was the mark of the Toyotomi Clan, the "Eye of God," as the people of Konoha called it.
He rarely went to Konoha.
But he knew what happened there. His father never hid anything from him, nor did he deliberately tell him anything. It was just that, occasionally, when his father discussed developments in Konoha with his mother at the dinner table, he would listen and remember.
He had an excellent memory.
"Father."
He set down his juice and turned to look at Toyotomi Yinglang beside him. Toyotomi Yinglang leaned back in his chair with a cup of hot tea in his hands, his moon-white kariginu gleaming softly in the sunset. A faint smile rested on his lips, his gaze on Ryukōshi, as though waiting for him to continue.
"I've noticed... something's a little wrong... with the Uchiha." Ryukōshi's voice was childish but serious. "But I can't figure it out."
Toyotomi Yinglang set down his teacup and looked at him.
"What? Are you afraid... you might have guessed right?"
Ryukōshi fell silent for a moment. When this four-year-old child grew quiet, he possessed a stillness beyond his years. His golden Sharingan slowly revolved in his