Hearing Uchiha Haru's words, Uchiha Setsuna was momentarily speechless.
Just moments ago, when he saw his precious granddaughter's three tomoe, he was already thinking about killing that brat who had bullied her.
But before he could even start plotting—out came the Mangekyo Sharingan.
That was the legendary eye of the Uchiha!
The Uchiha's power scale with their Sharingan was always brutally simple.
A single tomoe meant genin level.
Two tomoe, chunin.
Three tomoe, jonin.
And the Mangekyo Sharingan? Straight to Kage level.
Of course, the Sharingan only determined one's lower limit.
There were chunin with a single tomoe, sure—but generally, three tomoe meant at least jonin, and one tomoe meant at least genin.
It was simply a guarantee of the Uchiha's baseline strength.
"Grandpa?" Haru tilted her head when she saw Setsuna still silent, calling out again and pulling him back to reality.
"Yes," Setsuna finally said, suppressing the joy bubbling in his chest as he looked at those spinning Mangekyo patterns.
The Mangekyo…
Uchiha Madara had dominated an entire era during the Warring States period relying solely on that eye.
As he admired his granddaughter's Mangekyo, Setsuna calmed himself and continued solemnly,
"This is the supreme eye of our Uchiha clan."
Then, a thought crossed his mind.
The Mangekyo could only be awakened through the loss of one's dearest person—its users often grew cold and extreme afterward.
But his granddaughter… looked perfectly fine.
Could it be that the death of that damned little brat hit her too deeply?
That she buried her grief so far down she doesn't even show it anymore?
In Setsuna's mind, Yuki Seisui was already dead.
Otherwise, how else could Haru have awakened the Mangekyo?
He glanced at her again, but didn't ask how she'd done it.
She knows herself. Asking would just be twisting a knife in her heart.
As long as that brat was dead, everything was fine.
"Each Uchiha who awakens the Mangekyo gains two unique abilities," Setsuna explained. "One for each eye. And along with them… comes the power of Susanoo."
"Susanoo," he continued, lowering his voice, "is the third power hidden within the Mangekyo Sharingan. It manifests as a massive avatar of chakra—an armored god of war. It's the ultimate ninjutsu of both offense and defense."
As he spoke, Setsuna reached under his desk, triggered a hidden mechanism, and retrieved a scroll from a secret compartment.
He unrolled it and began reading aloud from the ancient text.
"The outward manifestation of Susanoo is an overwhelming surge of chakra that takes form outside the body—its shape and abilities varying depending on the wielder's own power and potential."
Then he stopped, his expression turning grave.
"But…" he said seriously, fixing his gaze on Haru, "with great power comes great cost."
"The more you use the Mangekyo, the faster your vision will fade. Eventually, you'll be completely blind."
"When that happens, your Mangekyo will vanish forever—unless a blood relative awakens their own Mangekyo and merges their ocular power with yours."
"Otherwise, you'll never see again."
"Unless your life is in danger, don't use the Mangekyo's power. Understand?"
Seeing how serious her grandfather looked, afraid for her eyesight, Haru nodded firmly.
Only then did Setsuna's face relax into a proud smile. He reached out and gently patted her head.
"This… this is wonderful news."
Then as if remembering something, his grin grew even wider.
"Grandpa's going out for a bit."
"Okay." Haru nodded. She already understood what she needed to about the Mangekyo; there wasn't much else to do for now.
After Setsuna left, Haru ran a hand through her hair and murmured softly,
It doesn't feel the same without Seisui…
With that, she formed a few hand seals and summoned a small panda cub into her arms.
"Ying ying ying~" The cub—Kuma—squirmed in her embrace.
Meanwhile, back in the Land of Panda, Panda Ming was about to hand Kuma a bamboo stalk when he noticed the cub had vanished.
He froze mid-sentence.
"Huh? Kuma? Where—"
Then his expression darkened.
"Damn that Yuki Seisui! Summoning Kuma out again!"
He shoved the bamboo into his own mouth and grumbled,
"Meeting that guy is the worst luck poor Kuma could have."
At that very moment, the innocent scapegoat himself—Yuki Seisui—had just returned home, looking bored.
The three young pandas waiting for him threw down their tools and demanded,
"Weren't you going out to buy food?"
"I did," Seisui nodded, pointing toward the door. "It'll be delivered soon."
He glanced around. Despite their lack of experience, the pandas had done surprisingly well for their first try at housework.
The floors were shining so clean they could almost reflect his face.
"Nice work," he said with satisfaction. "Take a break."
He opened the fridge, pulled out a few bottles of soda, and tossed one to each panda.
"Try this."
Popping open his own can, Seisui took a sip.
The Naruto world really was absurd—soft drinks and trains existed, yet basic technology was practically medieval.
Completely abstract, he thought.
One panda mimicked him, cracking open the bottle and gulping it down in one go. With a crunch, he squeezed the can flat and licked his lips with a satisfied grin.
Then he suddenly remembered something.
"Oh! Seisui-sama, while you were gone, a human woman with blue-purple hair came looking for you."
"Wasn't it Ko–something?" one of the other pandas interrupted.
"It's Konan!"
The three pandas started bickering, voices rising. One even rolled up his nonexistent sleeves, ready to fight.
"Enough!" Seisui cut them off before chaos broke loose. "Her name's Konan! As in south from north, south, east, west!"
No sooner had he said that than ding-dong! The doorbell rang.
Thinking it was Konan, Seisui opened the door without looking.
"Konan, you—"
He froze mid-sentence.
It wasn't Konan—it was the old man who ran the dango shop.
"Ninja-sama," the man said nervously, "I've brought your tri-colored dumplings."
He glanced at the sky. "I'm on time, right?"
Seisui checked the clock on his desk and nodded. "Right. Bring them in."
"Y-Yes, sir."
The old man entered with two large buckets of dango, set them down in the living room, and caught sight of the three panda youths towering over him.
He gulped hard, legs trembling. "I'll… just be going now!"
He bolted without looking back.
Watching his retreating figure, Seisui sighed. "What's he so scared of? It's not like we'd eat him."
He turned back to the pandas. "I'll go next door. More food's coming later—open the door when it arrives."
"Okay!"
By then the three pandas had already pried the lids off the buckets, eyes glued to the steaming dango inside.
They'd grown up in the Land of Panda, eating nothing but bamboo, bamboo shoots, and the occasional bamboo rat.
The rich aroma of the dango was pure torture.
Seeing their eager faces, Seisui smiled.
Hook, line, and sinker. Three perfect little laborers.
Sure, he could pay someone else to do chores—probably for even less than the cost of feeding them.
But some things… couldn't be entrusted to outsiders.
And all it took was one summoning to get three reliable workers.
Worth it.
Thinking that, Seisui walked outside, looked over at the three frog-marked doors, and pressed the bell under the one with a paper crane design.
Inside, Konan sat at her desk, frowning in thought over how to make her paper immune to fire and water. When the doorbell rang, she blinked, puzzled.
Opening the door, she saw Seisui and greeted shyly, "Seisui-senpai, you're back."
"Mm." He smiled. "From now on, call me Brother Seisui. Feels weird being called senpai."
"Okay," she nodded seriously. "Brother Seisui."
Satisfied, Seisui continued, "The pandas said you were looking for me. What's up?"
"Ah?" Konan blinked, then quickly remembered. She pulled out a paper crane.
"You told me last time I should improve my paper, but I haven't found a solution yet. Maybe Brother Seisui would know what to do?"
Her voice dimmed at the end, but her eyes shone with hope.
She wanted to grow stronger—to protect those around her, not rely on their protection.
Feeling like a burden was unbearable.
Seisui thought for a moment, then chuckled. "It's simple, really. Just coat your paper with tung oil—it'll resist both water and fire."
He remembered he still had some left over from a prank on Minato. "I've got a jar at home. Wait here."
He left and returned soon after with the jar, handing it to her.
"Try coating each sheet," he said. "Then test them—drop one in water, one in fire."
Konan accepted it with bright eyes and a grateful smile. "Thank you so much, Brother Seisui!"
"No problem." He waved it off casually. "Once you overcome this weakness, try taking it further—learn to turn yourself into paper."
He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "A sort of… Paper Clone Jutsu. Keep your body in a constant transformed state. As long as you have chakra, no physical attack can harm you."
Konan's eyes lit up even more. She had already thought of that—she even had a name for it.
She hadn't expected Brother Seisui to think the same way.
"Thank you, Brother Seisui! Once I've mastered it… I'll call it Dance of the Shikigami!"
Her voice trembled with excitement.