I, Uchiha, will not be whitewashed!

The Hokage's office.

Shuimen pushed a sealed scroll in front of Shuoge. Shuoge opened it, glanced at the contents, and didn't raise an eyebrow.

"The daimyo of the Land of Fire has an advisor named Kuroda."

The sound of the water gate was very soft, as if it were talking about something very ordinary.

"This person secretly colluded with Kumogakure, betraying the Daimyo's intelligence. Several of Kumogakure's infiltration operations were based on information provided by him. But we have no evidence, and the Daimyo trusts him, so we can't deal with him openly."

Shuoge closed the scroll. "So?"

"That's why we can't handle it publicly." Minato looked at him. "The Anbu can't go to the Daimyo's residence; it would be too much of a commotion. If they fail, Konoha won't be able to escape responsibility."

Sakugo understood. The Anbu are the Hokage's sword, which can be drawn. But this matter requires a sword that cannot be drawn.

"Shadow," Minato's voice was calm. "Make it an accident. Leave no trace."

Shuoge didn't say anything, stuffed the roll into his pocket, and turned to leave.

-

Three days later, at the residence of the Daimyo of the Land of Fire.

night.

The moonlight was obscured by clouds, and only a few paper lanterns lit up the courtyard, their glow swaying in the wind. Kuroda's bedroom was deep within the mansion, and two guards stood at the door, one yawning and the other rubbing his eyes.

The wind crouched on the roof, and the three-tomoe Sharingan slowly rotated in the darkness.

He saw the guards' chakra flow, their heart rate, and the time they changed shifts.

He raised his hand and flicked two fingers lightly.

Yan emerged silently from the shadows. He walked up to the first guard, his Sharingan meeting the guard's eyes.

The guard's eyes glazed over, his body stiffened, as if someone had pressed the pause button.

The second guard also froze.

The two people stood there, eyes open, mouths closed, breathing steadily, looking exactly the same as before. But they could no longer see, hear, or feel anything.

The wind blew down from the roof. I pushed open the door and went inside.

Kuroda lay in bed, fast asleep.

Feng stood by the bed, looking down at him.

He was in his fifties, with gray hair and wrinkles on his face that looked like they had been carved by a knife.

He stayed by the daimyo's side for twenty years, and no one suspected him.

But the wind didn't care about any of that. All he needed to do was complete the task.

He reached out and placed his hand on Kuroda's chest. Chakra seeped from his palm into Kuroda's body, flowing along his meridians towards his heart.

The three-tomoe Sharingan spun in the darkness, precisely controlling the intensity of its chakra.

It wasn't murder, it was creating an "accident".

Cardiac arrest.

Kuroda's body twitched slightly, then remained still. His face still bore the expression of sleep, his mouth slightly open, and his breathing had stopped.

Feng withdrew his hand, turned around, and walked out of the room.

Yan had already broken the illusion cast by the two guards. The two men blinked, yawned, and continued standing guard, completely unaware of what was happening.

Feng stood in the courtyard, moonlight peeking through the clouds and illuminating his face. He glanced at Yan, who nodded. The two of them disappeared silently into the night.

The next morning, news came from the daimyo's residence that Lord Kuroda had passed away in his sleep the previous night due to a heart ailment.

The emperor was deeply saddened and ordered a grand funeral.

No one doubted it.

No one will doubt it.

With the loss of a vital intelligence source, the pressure on Konoha's borders eased. Meanwhile, no one in Konoha knew that this incident was related to the village.

-

The Hokage's office. Minato stood by the window, not turning around.

"Everything went smoothly."

"Um."

Minato turned around and glanced at Sakugo. "Tell Fugaku that 'Shadow' did a good job."

Shuoge nodded, turned and left.

-

Everything in the Kage organization was on track. Kaze led several missions without any complaints from Minato or Fugaku. Sakugo went to the Hokage Building once a week to report, receive orders, and then leave.

Time flies, so fast that he can't remember the last time he sat down with his classmates.

……

……

……

On the day Shisui's Sharingan evolved into the two-tomoe form, Sakugo was wiping his sword by the training ground.

Shisui stood in front of the target, holding a shuriken in his hand, his eyes red, and two tomoe slowly rotating in his pupils.

He stared at it for a long time, then threw his shuriken.

The shuriken drew an arc in the air, made a turn, and pierced the bullseye from the side.

"I saw it." Shisui's voice trembled slightly. "I saw the direction of the wind."

Sakugo sheathed his sword. "It wasn't the wind. It was your own chakra. You just used your Sharingan to subtly adjust the trajectory of your shuriken."

Shisui looked down at his hands, then at the shuriken on the bullseye.

"Again." Sakugo stood up and pulled a kunai from his ninja tool pouch. "This time, throw it at me."

Shisui paused for a moment. "But—"

"It can't hurt me."

Shisui took a deep breath and raised his kunai.

The Sharingan stared at Sakugo's shoulders, his footsteps, and his breathing.

The kunai flew out of his hand with great speed and at a tricky angle.

Shuoge didn't move. The kunai grazed his ear and embedded itself in the tree trunk behind him. Shisui's pupils contracted—he hadn't missed; he had deliberately thrown it off target.

Shuoge figured it out.

"You're afraid."

Shisui lowered her head. "I'm afraid I'll hurt you."

Shuoge looked at him. "On the battlefield, the enemy won't show mercy just because you're a child. When your Sharingan sees an opportunity, you must strike. Hesitation means death."

Shisui clenched his fist, then relaxed it. "I understand."

"Again."

This time, the gu wu flew out of Zhishui's hand and headed straight for Shuoge's face.

Shuoge dodged to the side, the kunai stuck to the tree trunk, its tail rope swaying gently. He nodded.

"That's enough. Take a rest."

Shisui plopped down on the ground, panting heavily. Shuoge walked over to him, sat down, and leaned his sword against him. The two remained silent for a while.

"Brother Shuoge".

"Um."

"Will I be able to be as strong as you someday?"

Shuoge glanced at him. "Then you need to work harder."

It's not a definite answer.

Shisui paused for a moment, then smiled. The smile was brief, faint, but genuine.

-

Ichiraku Ramen reopened after the war, and business was even better than before. Kai squeezed in and took up four seats, shouting loudly, "Four bowls of miso chashu, with egg, with chashu!"

The owner smiled and responded, as steam rose from the pot.

Hong sat next to Kai, twirling a kunai in her hand.

Lin sat next to Hong, holding a cup of hot tea in her hands.

Kakashi sat at the very back, his headband pulled low, obscuring his left Sharingan.

Sakugo sat next to Kakashi, his sword resting on the table, his mask tucked into his waistband.

The noodles have been served.

Kai ate very quickly, making loud slurping noises.

Hong ate at a moderate pace. Lin ate in small bites.

Kakashi ate a few bites and then put down his chopsticks.

Shuoge took a bite and then put it down.

"Kakashi, what have you been up to lately?" Guy asked, his mouth full of noodles, his voice muffled.

"Mission." Kakashi's voice was flat.

"What mission?"

Kakashi didn't answer. Guy didn't seem to care and continued eating.

Lin glanced at Shuoge. "You've lost weight."

Shuoge did not speak.

"Are the missions of the Dark Division very tiring?" Lin's voice was very soft.

"fine."

Lin didn't ask any more questions. She took a piece of candy out of her pocket and placed it next to Shuoge. Shuoge glanced at it, neither taking it nor refusing it.

Kai finished three bowls and patted his stomach. "Shuoge, you didn't eat enough."

I'm not hungry.

"Eat even if you're not hungry! Youth needs energy!" Kai clenched his fist.

Shuoge glanced at him, picked up his chopsticks, and continued eating.

Kai grinned.

Kakashi sat beside him, watching Sakugo's profile. His left eye, hidden beneath his headband, was faintly burning—it was Obito's Sharingan. He closed his eye, then opened it again.

"Are your eyes adjusting well?" Shuoge asked without looking at him.

"It's alright," Kakashi said softly.

Shuoge did not ask any further questions.

The noodles were finished. Kai called out, "Another bowl, please!" The owner laughed and said, "You can still eat?" Kurenai put away her kunai, Rin finished her tea, and Kakashi stood up.

"Let's go." Kakashi pulled his headband down a little.

"See you next time!" Kai waved.

Kakashi left. Sakugo stood up, tucked his mask back into his waistband, and hung his sword on his back.

"I'm leaving too."

"Be careful on the road," Lin said.

Shuoge nodded, turned and left. Kai was still eating, Hong was waiting for him, and Lin was drinking tea.

The setting sun shone through the window, warming the three people.

That's how ninjas are. People who were eating together yesterday might be lying on a memorial stone tomorrow.

Fortunately, it is a time of peace, so everyone can sit together peacefully, finish a bowl of ramen, and then go home.

But how long this calm will last, no one knows.

Beneath the calm surface of the sea often lie the most turbulent undercurrents.