Cloud Village, Raikage's office.
Sunlight slashes through the big-ass windows, carving the room into hard light and shadow like some artsy geometry bullshit.
Makoto Uchiha sits right on the line, baby-face lit up crystal-clear. Zero shame, zero fake-ass humility, just raw, unfiltered want for whatever future he's already got mapped out.
Fourth Raikage Ai and Dodai behind him have seen every flavor of liar, hypocrite, and two-faced politician. But this? Kid's wearing his greed like cologne. It's weirdly disarming.
Sometimes pure, unfiltered honesty is the ultimate nuke.
Ai's thick fingers drum the desk, thump-thump, like a war drum. He's tempted. Kid's a walking jackpot: Sharingan, freak talent, strategic nuke-level bloodline. Any village would sell their grandma for it.
But the eagerness? Feels like meeting a smoking-hot trust-fund heiress on the first date and she's already picking baby names. Perfect package, zero red flags, that's the red flag.
This is some next-level clown-shit absurdity.
Ai's face flickers doubt. Makoto sets down his fruit, stands slow, solemn as a priest. Right fist slams his chest, thud.
"I, Makoto Uchiha, swear here and now: eternal loyalty to Cloud Village. Break it? Let lightning fry my ass to ash. Corpse? Gone."
Then the arm shoots out, 45-degree salute, eyes blazing like he's got actual fire in them. "Forge Cloud's glory, our duty! LOYALTY!!"
The sheer lunatic sincerity makes even Dodai, the grizzled one-eyed schemer, blink.
Ai stares for a solid minute, face twitching. Whole thing's sketchy as hell, but damn, that bloodline smells like victory.
Skip the years of probation and ankle monitors? Front-load trust, tie him to the village, then go all-in later?
Risk vs. reward doing the cha-cha on the scale.
Without the kid's earlier flexes and this oath, Ai would've kept him on a short leash, maybe full-time stud duty. No shadow-level ninja is dumb.
He side-eyes Dodai. The old fox catches the vibe, gives the tiniest nod.
Ai exhales like a busted bellows. "Fine! From today, you're Cloud. And…" he pauses, face doing something painful, "Head of the Cloud Uchiha Clan."
One dude. Day one. Clan head. Sounds like a bad joke, but the title's gotta slap.
Golden Naruto World Online panel pops in Makoto's vision only he can see. Quick scan: new perks. Smirk. Later.
Ai slams the desk again. Door swings open.
Five girls file in, early teens, a little older than Makoto. This was Plan A: lock the kid in a basement, breed Sharingan babies, upgrade the gene pool.
Plan's evolved, focus on loyalty and bonds, but bonds can start in the bedroom, right? Lifestyle immersion.
These are Ai's personal picks. Talent? Elite for their age. Strength? Top-tier. But the real criteria?
Aesthetics. Raikage Standard.
Healthy, dark, jacked, fertile as hell, built like they bench-press oxen. Every single one looks like Ai's long-lost daughter, same jaw, same glare, same "I will birth an army" energy.
Makoto stares at the lineup like he's at a cattle auction. Ten full seconds of pure what the fuck.
He turns to Ai, eyes screaming ???
Dodai coughs. "Lord Raikage hand-selected these maids to handle your… daily needs."
Azuki's eyes dim. Samui's face stays ice, but the corner of her mouth twitches down, micro-second betrayal.
Makoto's head shakes so fast it blurs. "Swap. Two."
Doesn't even glance at the Raikage All-Stars. Starts ordering like he's customizing a burger.
"Tall, stacked, killer curves, porcelain skin, massive rack, future kids gotta eat good."
"Face: cool, aloof. Teal-green eyes. Straight blonde bob."
"Outfit: low-cut light-gray mesh top, black mini, red wristbands, thigh-high black boots."
Pauses, looks at Azuki, keeps going.
"Second one: dark skin…"
He's not hinting. He's fucking commissioning portraits.