Minato asked this question quite early, his blue eyes studying the Uchiha with quiet iy.

  Masashi replied with equal siy. "It's about the baween rights and responsibilities. Enjoying rights and fulfilling obligations should be reciprocal."

  To be fair, the dispute between the Hokage's offid the Uchiha had had both sides to bme.

  It was true that the Hokage administration had suppressed the Uchiha.

  But the Uchiha had often prioritized terests over those of the vilge. When they had tributed to the vilge, they hadn't held ba asking for pensation.

  Just like children demanding dy for doing their chores, Masashi thought, though he kept that observation to himself.

  From a legal perspective, the Hokage had been the direct superior of the Police Force, yet this had ofteo tensions and awkward situations.

  What leader would appreciate a subordinate department behaving like this?

  "Reciprocity, huh..." Minato thought this was an acceptable aapping his fihoughtfully on his desk.

  But he doubted the elders would see it the same way. It wasn't that the Third Hokage would reject this logic, but that the elders themselves had cked even the most basic trust.

  They her had dared to trust nor could bring themselves to.

  The depth of the divide between panions of the same vilge gave Minato a headache just thinking about it.

  "Absolute fairness does. The vilge is vast and has to aodate many people, especially when most are tributing to it," he tried to express his thoughts, or rather, the Hokage office's viewpoint, in a more tactful way.

  "At this point, it's not about whht , but about making trade-offs."

  "That's fair," Masashi nodded. "It's really just a matter of trust." And trust is easier to build than to repair.

  After anizing his words carefully, he spoke early to Minato, "Hokage-sama, the era of ' exclusivity' is long gone. We're all part of one vilge; we see each other every day. The elders might think differently from us, but if everyone's willing to let go of their biases, there's nothing we 't discuss."

  In fact, looking at the Hokage administration's policies over the years, they hadn't severely hihe Uchiha 's strength or development.

  A 's growth had relied on popution, teiques, and fihe Hokage's office had merely limited the Uchiha's power, but even a single Police Force role had been enough to sustain the 's typical growth.

  Thus, in Masashi's view, it had been unrealistic to say the Hokage office had seen the Uchiha as enemies.

  They had still regarded the Uchiha as a subordinate department overly focused on its self-is, an internal instability. Essentially, they had viewed the Uchiha no differently from other s.

  In faone of Konoha's s had been able to join the deaking ranks. The Nara had only had a slight advantage due to their intellectual a.

  Even Sarutobi Hiruzen's hadn't beed much from his leadership—at most, financially. But the s in Konoha that had survived until then all had had their own ways of making money, so noruly g in funds.

  "Trust, huh... I think I get where you're ing from," Minato believed that Masashi was being truthful. He's different from the typical Uchiha... iing.

  Holy, he didn't sehe typical Uchiha pride in him. Or rather, Masashi's pride went beyond the Uchiha .

  "I'm strong because I'm strong, not because my is strong."

  Although Masashi didn't say this ht, Minato was fident that's what he thought.

  "But in that case, things might not be so easy for you." he couldn't help but ugh, imagining future sarios. Walkiween two worlds never is.

  Masashi was baffled. What exactly does he see ing?

  "I'm looking forward to seeing what you do ," Minato said, pig up his teacup. "Alright, I won't keep you from heading home. Say hello to your parents for me."

  "Uood, Hokage-sama."

  Not sure what Minato was hinting at, Masashi decided it was time to go. He quickly got up a, his mind already shifting to practical matters.

  His first stop after leaving was the mission hall, where he collected his mission rewards.

  There was a funny moment when the young dy handling the payout was stunned by how skillfully Masashi ted his mohanks to his Sharingan.

  Three-tomoe had its everyday uses too.

  By the time he stepped out of the Hokage building, Masashi already had a clear pn in mind for how to spend the 700,000 ryō he'd earned.

  Just because the was wealthy didn't mean every individual in it was financially fortable. The higher one's rank, the more costly their training became. Though Masashi trained diligently, he wasly a monk; he spent money as fast as he ear.

  A textbook example of living paycheck to paycheck.

  Though he had missions to cover him then, leaving the Police Force meant those ireams temporarily dried up.

  Adding it all up, while his total ine had risen, his expenses remaiight due to his current focus on his Yang Release training.

  He'd have to cut bao more tea until he achieved a breakthrough with his Yang Release.

  Most importantly, he'd o find a way to get an S-rank mission. The limit for A-rank missions was 1 million ryō, but S-rank missions started above that and had no upper limit.

  Excluding wars tracted by other tries, S-rank missions usually involved assassinating important fn figures or esc fidential dots. Given that the retioween the Hokage offid the Uchiha had been strained, it was quite challenging for Uchiha shinobi to secure S-rank missions.

  But Minato seemed open-minded as Hokage, so Masashi felt hopeful. If anyone could see beyond politics, it was him.

  Just like he had told Shisui, he had full faith in the Hokage.

  If he couldn't get an S-rank mission, he might be emotionally scarred and lose his faith in others. But the Hokage wouldn't let a rade suffer such psychological trauma.

  Wheuro the grounds, he was intercepted by Tetsuka before he could stash his earnings.

  "Masashi, you're finally back!" he shouted, "The leader's looking for you—he wants to see yht away."

  No avoiding this now. raveled fast in the pound. Masashi had no ce to dodge; everyone knew he'd returned from the Hokage building.

  "Got it."

  With no choice, he followed the overly excited Tetsuka to leader's residence. Fugaku's home was a mansion among mansions within the Uchiha 's district.

  Even though it wasn't Masashi's first time visiting, he was still awed by its grandeur. A symbol of power, both old and new.

  There was no way to match it. Fugaku's family had beehy even before he had bee leader, known for their business a.

  Thanks to his wealth, once he had bee the leader, he had funneled his family's profits back to help fund training resources for other members.

  Masashi received a stipend every month because of this. Despite Fugaku's stoic demeanor, Masashi always sidered him incredibly impressive.

  When he arrived, Fugaku was busy writing with a calligraphy brush, each stroke precise and measured.

  Upon seeing Masashi, he asked him a question that cut straight to the heart of matters.

  "Masashi, if you were to spar with Shisui, what do you think your ces of winning are?"

  "Shisui?" Masashi didn't quite uand the leader's question. "Why would I fight one of our own?"

  "You're always so cautious, Masashi," Fugaku said, upgrading his expressionless look to show he wasn't satisfied with that answer. "Even bae, you don't feel like speaking the truth?"

  Hmm? Home? Was he me a house? Could it be verted to cash?

  But seeing Fugaku's expression, it didn't seem the right time for jokes.

  "Fugaku-sama, when two Uchiha fight, there's no real winner, is there?"

  The Mangekyō Sharingan had its risks, and Masashi wasn't sure he could withstand it. If Shisui couldn't handle losing and hit him with Kotoamatsukami, making him think he was in some alternative universe… well, why bother with reality then?

  And without using the Mangekyō? Wouldn't that be a waste of time?

  With everyone in the shinobi world scrambling for missions, how could he waste his own time?

  "Winning and losing isn't the point. The purpose is to observe the differences betweewo of you," Fugaku said, setting down his brush and ing his hands.

  Masashi g the calligraphy and thought it could use some improvement.

  "e over and have a seat." Fugaku opened a side door, revealing a tea room.

  The tea was already brewed, and a woman was tidying the table. When the door opened, she rose to her feet..

  "Thank you, Mikoto." Fugaku's expression softened slightly.

  "It's nothing; I was just idle anyway. You two go ahead and talk; I'll head out for a bit." Mikoto seemed pleased, probably heading off to meet some friends.

  "Alright." Fugaku hen asked, "And where's Itachi? He should be training at this hour."

  "Shisui took him out."

  "Oh."

  What kind of father was this, letting his son skip training to go py?

  Not that he had anything against Itachi; he just felt Itachi might not go down that path eight years ter if he had been disciplined a bit more as a child.

  The Uchiha, ohey got too proud, often fell into the 'everyone else is ignorant, I alone am awake' mi. It was a siess that needed g.

  "Sit," Fugaku invited, seating himself first and sipping his tea.

  Masashi sat and took a sip as well. K. It's the same tea.

  "How's your Yang Release training ing along?" Fugaku suddenly asked.

  "It's going well."

  "The Ice Release doesn't match the Sharingan's power. If you'd followed the 's tradition, perhaps you'd have eyes like Shisui's by now."

  As if power is only measured by our eyes.

  "That'd be rather inve," he said, p himself more tea. "Use it too much, and you go blind."

  "Just repce them with new eyes," Fugaku replied nontly. "The Sharingan is the core of our . There's a reason why members leave their Sharingan behind after they pass."

  "I only like my own eyes," Masashi felt they were getting off-topid I'd rather keep my vision intact, thank you very much.

  Weren't they just discussing Yang Release?

  "No matter. Your choice will show results soon enough. You're four years older than Shisui; everyone believes this is fair."

  "Alright, I'll follow the arra." As if I have a choi this...

  "Good. But if you lose, the won't support your Yang Release training anymore. Your monthly allowance will be like everyone else's. Just giving you a heads-up."

  "Oh."

  Masashi didn't mind; after all, the had a lot of members, and his extra share might mean someone else received less. Before, it would have been an issue, but since he was a jonin, cutting that extra portion was reasonable.

  At least they're being direct about the stakes.

  In this aspect, the Uchiha did well—not giving more to the strong or less to the weak. Overall, the 's leadership was quite petent and had a sense of fairness.

  Their more ruthless side was reserved for the Hokage building.

  After a bit more casual versation, seeing that Fugaku had nothing further, Masashi took his leave. The message had been clear enough—prove your worth or fall in line.

  Back at home, the st of fried eggpnt and grilled fish greeted him. His mother appeared at the entrance, drying her hands on her apron.

  "Wele back." She stepped aside to let him in. "The bath is ready if you want to wash up."

  "Thanks, but I should store these first." Masashi patted his mission rewards pouch.

  "Of course." She stayed at the doorway. "I made extra today. That st mission must have been tiring."

  His father's voice carried from the living room, apanied by the distinct smell of... garlic?

  "Masashi, good timing! e look at this new mainteeique I've discovered. The sulfur pounds in garlic actually create a protective yer when mixed with the right oil. Beeing it on my own kunai for weeks—not a spot of rust!"

  Masashi noticed the slight tremor in his mother's voice as she interjected, "The food first, dear. Your experiments wait."

  After seg his earnings, he returo find the table filled with dishes—grilled saury, fried eggpnt with miso, fresh tomatoes, and a pot of rice with red beans.

  All his favorites, arranged with careful precision.

  "That sword of yours still holding up?" His father looked up from his seat, several kunai and a bowl of crushed garlic id out beside him. "I've been reading about this teique from the Land of Iron—they use specific vegetable eo—"

  "Let the boy eat first," his mother cut in, serving Masashi ara rge portion. "You'll need your strength." She paused, chopsticks h. "I heard you'll be sparring with Shisui."

  "ravels fast." Masashi picked up his chopsticks. "The wants to see if their iment in my training is worthwhile."

  "Speaking of iments," his father perked up, "did you know that coating your bde with a mixture of garlic oil and iron filings creates a microtextured surface that actually—"

  "Dear," his mother's tone was ge firm, "perhaps after dinner?"

  His father chuckled, setting aside a half-polished kunai. "Right. Though Masashi, you should really let me show you ter. This could give you an edge tet it? Edge?"

  Father and his experiments...

  "You've always dohings your own way," his father added, reag for more fish. "The just needs reminding sometimes. Like how everyone ughed at my pickled radish polish until the they started requesting it."

  His mother added another helping of eggpnt to Masashi's bowl. "Shisui is such a nice boy, but in a spar..."

  "Don't worry." Masashi sampled the eggpnt. Perfect as always.

  "It's just a demonstration. Though I wouldn't mind if they redirected my training funds into the shop. Father could buy more... exotigredients for his experiments."

  "Always thinking about money," his mhed, but her shoulders rexed slightly. If her son could still joke, things couldn't be too serious.

  After dinner, his father predictably dragged him to examine his equipmehusiastically demonstrating his test garlic-based innovation.

  They spent the hour methodically cheg and maintaining his gear, his father alternatiween practical advid increasingly eborate theories about vegetable-based metallurgy that Masashi only half-listeo, as he always did.

  Some of his ideas sound crazy, but I haven't had a rusted on in years. It's s to listen to his detailed expnation...

  After the equipment check, Masashi spent the rest of the day helping around the house. His mother had him dusting the shelves while she ed the kit, her worried gnow mixed with gentle reminders about spots he'd missed.

  "The fish haven't been fed yet," his father called from the garden. "Did you know koi actually help predict weather patterns? The way they swim ges with barometric pressure. Could be useful in a fight!"

  "Dear, that's goldfish, not koi," his mother corrected, but his father was already rushing to the pond, a notebook in one hand and fish food iher.

  Masashi followed him out, watg as his father enthusiastically scattered food while scribbling observations. "Look, look! See how that e one moves? Clear sign of... well, something. I'm still w oails. But imagine if we could apply this to bat strategies!"

  "I think they're just hungry, Father." Masashi grabbed a handful of feed, watg the fish swirl beh the surface. Though I have to admit, their movements do look different today.

  "Hungry? No, no, this is clearly a respoo atmospheriditions. Or maybe it's the garliy hands from earlier? Quick, write this down—'Potential corretioween garlic-based on polish and koi behavior...'"

  "The undry still needs folding!" his mother's voice drifted from inside, saving Masashi from his father's impromptu fish behavior study.

  Some things never ge, Masashi thought, heading baside as his father tinued his enthusiastientation of the 'tactically signifit' koi movements.

  A feassed without a new mission, probably because the was anizing his spar with Shisui, which he'd been informed would be a public match.

  Using this method to decide whether to tinue supp his Yang Release training was fair. It was just a bit embarrassing if he lost, especially since he was older than Shisui.

  The idea that Uchiha didn't care about age and only strength was just a public image, a way to make others think the Uchiha had a strong, petitive culture.

  After about seven ht days, Masashi felt no pressure. He tio eat, train, and go about his routiil he finally spotted Shisui on the way back.

  He looked travel-worn, clearly just returned.

  "Masashi-nii." his eyes sparkled with excitement. "They told me as soon as I got back."

  "Yeah, same here," Masashi replied, smiling. "I hadn't even put away my money before they dragged me in for a lecture."

  "Masashi-nii, you always talk about money."

  "Gotta be practical."

  "Well, Masashi-nii, I look forward to learning from you tomorrow! I've been eager to see your skills for a long time!"

  "Noted…"

  Seeing Shisui so fired up, Masashi patted his shoulder. "We're like family; o be so formal."

  "Got it! I'll be sure to go all out!"

  "That sounds like a challenge… alright, do what makes you happy."

  Sending off the spirited Mangekyō user, he tinued on home.

  Despite his friendly demeanor, Shisui was every bit as intense as the typical Uchiha; faced with a worthy oppo, he got worked up as if he'd taken a shot of adrenaline.

  At least Shisui showed good judgment, not assuming he'd win just because Masashi chose a non-traditional path.

  Tomorrow, he'd hold back a bit, be cautious, ahings respectful.

  After a good meal and chat with his parents, he went to bed early.

  Then, the m, following the 's notice, he went to the training grounds.

  For ease in sparring, the training grounds included an indoor arena, resembling a basketball court, with a sed-floor viewing area for spectators, allowing the fighters to fully dispy their skills without distra.

  This way, even if the building took a beating, it'd be fine. Behind the audience were windows, and for a shinobi, jumping out a window was no big deal—maximum safety.

  When Masashi arrived, many members had gathered.