There's no guarantee of reward—not when you're dealing with Kumogakure.
Qingsi knew this.
Whether Samui would give in or not was uncertain. But it didn't matter.
Because this time, his goal wasn't the scroll.
It was to open a crack.
A small, deliberate breach in Samui's defenses. In her vigilance. In the unshakable image of Kumogakure's loyalty and control.
His current identity—a newly transferred ninja student—and his strength, though growing, were not yet enough to demand anything of real value.
So instead of making heavy demands, he humbled himself.
A D-rank jutsu was harmless. A token. A test.
Would Samui hand it over? Would she hesitate? Where would she draw the line?
This was what Qingsi wanted to know.
The sushi restaurant's warm light cast a long shadow behind him as he walked toward the exit, calm and deliberate.
"See you next time, Miss Samui."
He slid the scroll quietly into his ninja tool pouch and left.
This wasn't the end.
This was the start.
Next time, he'd raise the stakes.
Let his emotions stir. Let his eye respond.
Let the Sharingan evolve.
…
Outside, the air was cooler. Crisp, quiet. Qingsi bought a small box of sushi before leaving—another cover.
He needed a reason to be in and out of the sushi restaurant so frequently. Last time, he'd stayed longer than usual. This time, just a few minutes.
Buying takeout gave him plausible deniability.
Then, halfway down the street—
Smack.
Someone collided with him.
The sushi box dropped to the ground with a thud, the contents scattering across the pavement.
"Ah! I'm so sorry—!"
A flustered voice.
Qingsi looked up to see a girl with thick, curly hair and a round, apologetic face.
"I… I'll pay for that! I didn't see you!"
Yuhi Kurenai's red eyes widened when she realized who she'd bumped into.
"Seiji-san?! I'm so sorry!"
"It's alright, Yuhi Kurenai-san."
Qingsi smiled faintly. His tone was calm.
This sushi was just a prop anyway.
She hadn't ruined anything of real value.
"No, I have to make it up to you. Let me buy you the same sushi again."
"They're closed now."
"You got it from the shop on the left street, right?"
"Mm."
"Ah… that explains it. They always close early."
Kurenai looked down, embarrassed.
She'd actually been thinking of Seiji earlier at school—about how he had awakened the Sharingan. She'd been curious, even hopeful, that she could talk with him about illusion techniques.
But now… she'd ruined his dinner.
"You could compensate me with something else," Qingsi offered, lightly.
Her eyes brightened.
"Of course!"
…
Ten minutes later, they were seated at a different restaurant, menu in hand.
Kurenai ordered confidently, then passed the menu to Qingsi.
He scanned it.
Lots of fish. Several octopus dishes.
He picked one at random.
A short while later, their table was filled with plates—assorted sashimi, miso soup, grilled eel.
The largest portion was unmistakably wasabi octopus.
Kurenai's favorite.
According to the official databook, Yuhi Kurenai's top preferences were shochu, vodka, and—most notably—wasabi octopus. She detested sweets.
"Seiji-kun," she said between bites, "after the Uchiha awaken their eyes… does that enhance their genjutsu?"
"To some degree. But the Sharingan only magnifies what's already there."
He paused, studying her across the table.
"True mastery still depends on talent and dedication."
The Sharingan gave bonuses. Amplified potential. But it didn't create something from nothing.
A user already skilled in genjutsu would flourish. But someone without that foundation wouldn't magically become a master.
"I see..." Kurenai nodded, her expression serious.
"Then—would you be willing to exchange illusion techniques with me sometime?"
Her red eyes, earnest and hopeful, locked on his.
She wasn't just curious—she wanted to prove herself. That even without the Sharingan, she could surpass the odds and carry on her father's legacy.
"I'd be happy to," Qingsi said, setting his chopsticks down.
"But it'll have to wait. I have sparring with Obito tomorrow, and after school I'm training chakra control."
Across the table, Kurenai's face softened.
She smiled—genuinely.
"That's okay! Just knowing you're willing means a lot."
She looked at him and thought—he's kind. Approachable.
Maybe everyone from the Land of Lightning was like this.
She had no idea what Qingsi was really thinking.
He admired her.
Cute, yes.
But his interest lay more in the future version of her—a mature kunoichi with quiet charm and deadly grace.
A beautiful thing.
And that was enough to stir a ripple through his body—heat pooling behind his left eye.
The Sharingan, after all, didn't awaken from pain alone.
Emotions.
That was the key. Deep, mind-trembling emotion.
Not necessarily sorrow.
Not necessarily grief.
Sometimes… awe.
Desire.
Craving.
He let it swell quietly in the back of his mind, watching Kurenai laugh with her eyes closed, a crescent moon across her face.
Good things must be savored.
And she… she had a flavor of her own.
…
Meanwhile—deep within the sushi restaurant, in a hidden chamber—
"Lord Samudo."
Samui stood at attention.
"Qingsi came again?" he asked, chewing slowly on a piece of seaweed-wrapped tuna.
"…Yes," Samui answered. "He asked for a D-rank scroll."
She explained how she handed him the Lightning Release: Iron Block.
What she didn't say was why she gave it.
She left out the fact that she'd slipped—spoken a little too openly, revealed a little too much.
That she might've jeopardized the operation.
Her face was calm. Controlled.
Samudo, unaware, nodded in satisfaction.
"Good. If he's asking for ninjutsu, that's a step forward."
He swallowed.
"Once a shinobi begins developing around a certain technique—especially elemental releases—it becomes hard to switch paths. Lightning Release is our strength. We'll offer more. He'll come back for more."
He looked over his shoulder.
"The Uchiha are known for their fire. They can't compete with our lightning."
And if Qingsi wanted to grow, to excel, he'd come running back.
"The Uchiha bloodline," he said, "will reinforce Kumogakure's foundation."
Samudo reached for another piece of sushi, lost in thought.
Lurking in Konoha was no easy feat.
But if it secured him a promotion, if it elevated his standing back home—it was worth it.
"Lord Samudo…"
Samui spoke again, voice slightly softer.
She hesitated for a moment.
Then bit her lip.
Some things… she couldn't bury forever.