Kai Uchiha was finally enjoying some peace—a rare luxury afforded by his temporary removal from the front lines. Free from the constant threat of death, he redirected all his focus toward sharpening his strength.
The Uchiha clan's archives held a wealth of information—records of Sharingan abilities, battle tactics, and clan history. These materials proved invaluable to Kai, offering both inspiration and insight.
Although he continued to study and refine his ninjutsu, Kai found himself increasingly drawn to scrolls and journals detailing the evolution, usage, and deeper mechanisms of the Sharingan. His own Sharingan had awakened early, but due to limited use, it lacked the kind of practical refinement that came from frequent battle. Despite that, Kai's control and perception were impressive—even advanced. Still, he knew his foundation needed polish.
With these documents, and time now on his side, Kai understood: only through experience, constant usage in real combat, and methodical reflection could he elevate his Sharingan mastery. The path to true power wasn't in rushing to the next level—it was in consolidating the strength he already had.
Now that he had awakened the Mangekyō Sharingan—triggered by the traumatic incident involving Minato Namikaze's near-death—Kai could afford to slow down and reinforce his fundamentals. In the past, survival demands had pushed him to rapidly elevate his Sharingan, even at the cost of his physical and emotional wellbeing.
The Mangekyō offered overwhelming power—but it came with a steep price. Prolonged use would gradually rob him of his sight. Until he found a path to the Eternal Mangekyō, Kai had no choice but to rely mainly on his three-tomoe Sharingan for combat. Reckless overuse of the Mangekyō would lead to consequences far worse than defeat.
He couldn't afford to follow the path of someone like Uchiha Sasuke, who at one point recklessly pushed forward without fully understanding the consequences. But then again, Sasuke—like Naruto—was no ordinary shinobi. The reincarnations of Indra and Asura were born with godlike chakra and destiny itself on their side.
Kai, meanwhile, had to rely on more grounded advantages.
In addition to his studies of Sharingan techniques and ninjutsu, Kai began diving into kenjutsu—swordsmanship. The Uchiha clan was known not just for their fire-style jutsu and dōjutsu, but also for their excellence in close combat. A skilled Uchiha with a blade and Sharingan could overwhelm most enemies with a combination of prediction, speed, and lethal precision.
He remembered how effective his sword had been during the Kannabi Bridge operation in the Land of Grass. It only made sense to continue down that path.
"I need to get a new sword," Kai thought, after pouring over all the notes. While his ninjutsu repertoire was nearly complete, there were still areas to refine. Fire Release was his primary style—true to the Uchiha tradition—and he had recently incorporated Lightning Release after learning Chidori from Kakashi.
Chidori, for now, was enough. Rather than chasing more techniques, his priority was mastering what he already had—perfecting Chidori and developing his unique applications of it.
"Though... why do I feel like I'm turning into that brat?"
The thought made him pause. He was starting to resemble Sasuke Uchiha—even though the boy hadn't been born yet. Still, Kai didn't consider that a bad thing. Sasuke's path, though tragic and volatile, eventually led to unrivaled mastery of the Sharingan, the Eternal Mangekyō, and even the Rinnegan.
But Kai wasn't just copying Sasuke. Unlike Sasuke, he wouldn't abandon Fire Release. He still remembered how Madara Uchiha had decimated entire armies with Katon: Gōka Mekkyaku. Kai knew that true power came not from abandoning tradition, but from refining it.
Genjutsu, too, was not something he intended to neglect. Madara had used Sharingan-based illusions to render even elite shinobi helpless. Kai believed that, with time, he too could reach such levels.
"None of the Uchiha who awakened the Mangekyō ever remained mediocre—not even Shisui." Even that reckless idealist had etched his name into history. And then there was Fugaku Uchiha—another Mangekyō user—whose presence was shrouded in mystery and political caution. Despite his power, Fugaku had achieved little on the battlefield, restrained by the burden of leadership and the tension between the Uchiha and the village leadership.
Kai, by contrast, still had the freedom to act.
After days of studying and training, he decided it was time to reconnect with his teammates—starting with Kakashi Hatake. He hadn't forgotten the symbolic gift Kakashi had given him: Chidori. A jutsu born of necessity, perfected through battle, and now passed down to someone who might take it even further.
Kai's daily routine had been strict. Mornings in the Uchiha library, afternoons for ninjutsu and kenjutsu practice, evenings for chakra control and stamina conditioning. He never wanted to find himself in a position like Kakashi—powerful but limited by chakra reserves. He wouldn't become "Fifty-Fifty Kai."
With that thought, he briefly informed his mother, Ryoko, and headed out.
His destination wasn't just Kakashi's house—he also planned to check in on Hyūga Aya. She irritated him, sure, but she was still a comrade. Team unity mattered—even if he had to fake a smile.
But just as he exited the Uchiha district and started toward the heart of the village, several masked figures landed before him.
Anbu.
Kai instinctively tensed. Had this been anywhere else, he might have drawn a kunai without thinking. Even in Konoha, he kept his guard up. Anbu didn't show up for idle chit-chat.
The lead figure stepped forward and spoke without hesitation:
"Uchiha Kai. The Hokage wants to see you."
Kai blinked in surprise, then nodded calmly.
"Understood. Lead the way."
The Third Hokage—Hiruzen Sarutobi himself—wanted to see him? That wasn't something he could decline. Sarutobi had led Konoha through two Shinobi World Wars, and now a third. His wisdom and strength were legendary, and his influence extended across all of Konoha's clans.
Most would consider a summons from him a high honor. But Kai suspected it was more than that.
As the Anbu vanished ahead, Kai followed, deep in thought. The Hokage didn't make such requests lightly. This was likely a test, a probe—an opportunity to assess the newest rising star from the ever-controversial Uchiha clan.
Given Kai's battlefield achievements, his rare Mangekyō, and his ambiguous stance on the clan's politics, Hiruzen likely wanted to gauge his loyalties—or even attempt to sway them.
Before Uchiha Shisui was ever molded into a loyal tool, any Uchiha with potential could be a candidate.
And now… that candidate might be him.