Morning
Under Might Guy's incredulous gaze, Katsumi Kei had learned all of the basic techniques of Konoha's Strong Fist style.
Noon
After training, Kei invited Might Guy, Tenten, and Naruto to lunch. They ate together. Laughed a little. Then Kei excused himself.
While Naruto and Tenten returned to their training, determined to catch up, Kei headed to Tengang's forge to purchase weighted training gear.
Afterward, he and Hayate followed the trail into the woods—toward the place where Hayate had sensed the crows.
Deep in the forest
Kei arrived at a clearing and found something unexpected: massive, wooden birdhouses—built in tiers, enough to host a thousand crows.
It was feeding time.
Uchiha Shisui stood near the center, unfurling a scroll and releasing ten full buckets of minced meat. Crows swirled above and perched around him, silent, watchful, waiting.
Kei stopped at the tree line. His eyes took in the scene—the birds, the meat, the seals, the chakra.
'So it was Uchiha Shisui.'
Shisui turned sharply, posture tense, his Sharingan flickering to life.
But as Kei stepped into view—with Hayate beside him—Shisui's tension ebbed.
A child. But not just any child.
The chakra Shisui sensed from him was… enormous.
Kei, for his part, was equally observant. He spotted the moniker-earning shinobi of the Third War and the hundreds of chakra-sensitive crows.
'Feeding all these birds… that's a lot of meat. And chakra. Shisui must be loaded.'
Reasonable. As Uchiha Kagami's heir and a top-ranking shinobi, Shisui would've had both legacy and mission pay.
Kei stepped forward and bowed slightly.
"Senior. You're Uchiha Shisui, also known as Shisui the Teleporter. My name is Katsumi Kei, and this is my companion, Hayate. A few days ago, Hayate sensed crows with chakra. I came to investigate."
Shisui's eyes softened with recognition. But before he could speak, Kei continued.
"I'd like to raise a chakra-sensitive crow as a summoning beast. If it's not too much trouble, I'd like to purchase one from you. I can pay in ryo, or we can arrange another method if you prefer."
Shisui looked at Kei carefully.
Such clarity. Such self-possession. For someone so young, it was unnerving.
And then Shisui thought, albeit a bit desperately: 'This child… might have an answer.'
So he tested fate.
"I don't need money. But I will ask you a question."
He paused, then added, "If you answer it, I'll let you choose one crow to take with you."
Kei's eyes narrowed slightly, then he nodded.
"Please ask."
Shisui's voice was steady—but beneath it, years of pressure trembled.
"You seem to know who I am. So you know I'm Uchiha."
Kei nodded again.
"Then… why do some within the Uchiha clan place the clan above the village? Why do they value Uchiha over Konoha?"
Shisui's shoulders dropped slightly as he finished. As though simply asking had already loosened something tightly bound within.
Kei stared at him.
He understood.
Shisui had no one to ask this of. No one he could trust. Not Danzo. Not even Itachi—not yet. So the burden twisted inside him, until this quiet moment in a forest let it slip out.
'This world really is messed up,' Kei thought.
In this world, a single phrase—the Will of Fire—had been used as propaganda powerful enough to justify genocide.
It could drive Uchiha Shisui to suicide.
It could convince Uchiha Itachi to murder his entire clan—including his parents.
Kei had been analyzing it for a while now.
The Will of Fire indoctrinated every child in Konoha. It preached the supremacy of the village above all. And for most people, it worked.
But the Uchiha were different.
Because of the Sharingan, their emotional range was amplified. When a regular person might vent their frustrations in private or argue with a friend, an Uchiha might spiral toward rebellion—or annihilation.
It wasn't just their feelings. It was the environment.
In Kei's old world, children were taught philosophy, ideology, moral frameworks. They had options. Critical thinking. Even in flawed systems, there were questions asked.
But here? It was one narrative.
The Will of Fire.
That distortion had consequences.
And Kei—analytical as ever—was ready to give his answer.
He spoke clearly, thoughtfully.
"It's an environmental problem. Within the Uchiha clan, from the moment children are born, they're taught to be proud Uchiha. That they're superior. That their clan legacy is something sacred."
He continued, calmly.
"Parents, elders, peers—they all reinforce this. It becomes a worldview. There's a saying: 'Those who are close to vermillion turn red. Those who are close to ink turn black.' Meaning, the people you grow up around shape your beliefs."
He met Shisui's gaze directly.
"If everyone around you says the Uchiha are more important than the village, then eventually… you believe it."
It was a simple answer.
But it was also the truth.
Shisui didn't speak for a while.
His eyes stayed on Kei.
Then he looked past him, toward the trees.
'He's right.'
The Uchiha environment wasn't something a single mission could fix. The adults were too far gone.
But the children...
Maybe they could still be saved.
'How do I change their environment?'
Shisui didn't have the answer. But now he had a direction.
And that, more than anything, lifted the weight from his chest.
He turned back to Kei. And for the first time in a long while, he bowed.
"Thank you. That answer helped more than you know."
He gestured to the crows.
"As promised—pick whichever one you like. It's yours."