Chapter 280 – The Path of the Three Titans (Part I) (Ext. Chap.)
The aftermath of the Nine-Tails Incident continued to ripple across Konoha like an echo that refused to fade.
When a disaster of that scale occurs, someone must always be held accountable.
At first, Minato Namikaze hadn't wanted to focus on blame.
His attention was fixed on reconstruction — on restoring the Hidden Leaf's stability, rebuilding its foundations, and reassuring its shaken people.
But life, as always, refused to go according to plan.
Even if he wanted to move forward, the growing political storm made that impossible.
Too much had happened in too little time.
First, Shimura Danzō, one of the village's shadow rulers and a pillar of the old regime, had died —
a man whose influence stretched through every corner of the system.
Then, a Senju elder had been driven to suicide — indirectly by Kei's actions, though Minato knew Kei wasn't truly at fault.
Still, it was another crack in an already fragile structure.
And then came the Nine-Tails.
The masked man in the black cloak — the one who had infiltrated Konoha and unleashed the beast —
not a soul had detected his presence until it was too late.
Minato couldn't blame anyone for that.
He'd faced that enemy himself.
He knew how unstoppable that man was —
for any ordinary shinobi, crossing him meant certain death.
But then Kei had defeated that same enemy — utterly, decisively, leaving no room for doubt.
It was too clean a victory, too perfect, and it made many within the village uneasy.
When Kei later proposed expanding the Konoha Police Force's authority,
and Minato granted full approval without hesitation,
the unease in the air solidified into quiet dissent.
Those whispers came not from council members — most of them had no right to attend the high-level meetings —
but from influential figures lurking beneath the surface.
People whose power didn't come from titles, but from roots that ran deep in Konoha's soil.
Minato knew exactly who stood behind them.
And he knew this was the worst possible time to provoke them.
Still, like sharks catching the scent of blood, they circled closer.
They wanted weakness.
They wanted someone to blame.
So Minato chose another tactic — accountability.
If an enemy could infiltrate the village so easily and obtain information they should never have seen,
then there was clearly rot within Konoha's walls.
Whoever had provided that information, whoever had failed their post — someone would take the fall.
And the more Minato investigated, the clearer the picture became:
this infiltration had been meticulously planned,
supported by inside intelligence,
and prepared for over a long period —
far longer than the three short months he'd held the Hokage's seat.
It was clear now: before Minato's rise, the Leaf had already been a web of factions and secrets barely held together.
---
Yet, at the center of this political storm, Kei remained remarkably calm.
He didn't need to move a muscle.
Fugaku had already shielded him from most of the trouble,
and what remained had been quietly absorbed by Minato himself.
So, despite being the central figure of the entire Nine-Tails incident, Kei was paradoxically the least troubled by it.
With no bureaucratic chaos weighing him down, he returned to what truly mattered —
his experiments, and the next stage of serum injections.
The last time he'd taken one was before the Nine-Tails attack.
Now, it was time to continue the process —
and to begin a few… more dangerous trials, particularly with Imai Kenta.
As for Kei himself, his eyes had recovered well.
The battle with the Nine-Tails had drained a massive portion of his ocular power,
but most of that had been consumed in the duel against Obito —
not against the beast itself.
Other techniques had barely scratched his reserves,
except for Chrono Freeze, which devoured chakra at an incredible rate.
Even so, his visual power was steadily regenerating.
At this rate, his eyes had already surpassed a normal Mangekyō Sharingan —
in everything but endurance and sheer output.
But that, too, was only a matter of time.
"This time, the dosage will be stronger,"
Ayaka Hyūga said quietly, holding a newly refined syringe.
Under the sterile light, the liquid shimmered faintly — equal parts scientific marvel and quiet menace.
"Your body has adapted well to the serum," she continued. "We can safely increase the volume."
"No problem," Kei replied, glancing briefly between Ayaka and Kenta Imai.
"There's no real combat threat at the moment anyway. If this gives me a boost, all the better."
"You're awfully confident," Ayaka muttered, pressing the syringe to his arm. "Are you sure you're not worried? The political atmosphere's tense right now."
"Worried?" Kei chuckled, his expression relaxed. "If something happens… I'll just deal with it."
Ayaka exhaled, shaking her head.
She'd long since learned not to challenge Kei when he spoke that way — his definition of "dealing with" usually meant something explosive.
But she also knew he wasn't reckless.
He calculated.
He adapted.
And that, more than anything, made him dangerous.
She preferred it that way. She didn't want a leader who acted blindly — she wanted one who watched the storm come, and decided where the lightning should strike.
---
After injecting the serum, she activated her Byakugan, scanning Kei's chakra network with precision.
"Your body's adapting faster each time," she said after a moment.
"The serum's merging instantly with your cells. Any discomfort?"
"Heat," Kei muttered, flexing his hand. "Feels like a fever. Same as before — chakra boiling under the skin."
It was a familiar ritual by now — every injection followed by careful observation, cross-checking notes, and direct sensory feedback.
That way, if anything went wrong, Ayaka could react instantly.
Across the room, Imai Kenta watched in fascinated silence.
He'd been in this lab only a few times, and witnessing Kei undergo the injection process always left him unsettled — and strangely curious.
If the data held true, he would soon undergo the same procedure.
So he watched closely, memorizing every detail — every twitch, every surge of chakra.
But in the back of his mind, unease lingered.
I'm walking a path my ancestors would curse me for, he thought grimly.
Though the research didn't originate from Orochimaru's experiments,
it did stem from the one who had released the Nine-Tails —
and who knew what graves that monster had desecrated to obtain his "samples"?
---
"This isn't your first time here," Kei said suddenly, glancing at him with mild amusement.
"Why the long face? Still bothered by the thought of 'disturbing your ancestors' rest'?"
"I can tell," Kei went on before Kenta could respond. "You've noticed it yourself, haven't you? These white cells aren't the same as your ancestor's anymore. They're grown — synthetic."
Kenta sighed.
"Of course I noticed. They're cultivated copies, not originals. I wouldn't have agreed otherwise. Still…"
He trailed off, shaking his head helplessly.
He didn't need to finish — they all understood.
Guilt was a cage only the guilty could build for themselves.
Fortunately, Kenta wasn't the type to cling to tradition.
If he were, the three of them would have already been enemies instead of collaborators.
Their partnership worked precisely because none of them were bound by sentimentality —
each understood the stakes, the risks, and the necessity of compromise.
---
"So," Ayaka interjected, her tone sharp, "are you doing the experiment or not?"
She tossed the used syringe into a bin and glared at Kenta.
"You're making that same pathetic face you wore on the battlefield. Back then at least you were useful. Now you're just making me sick."
"Apologies for offending your delicate sensibilities," Kenta replied dryly. "But I'm afraid you'll have to get used to me — our partnership's far from over."
"Since when did you start talking like that?" Kei said with a smirk, watching them bicker.
"Still… he's right. The three of us will be working together for a long time — unless one of us becomes strong enough to surpass the others completely.
And if I had to guess," he added lightly, "that person would probably be me."
The words hovered between jest and truth — a quiet warning hidden beneath humor.
Triangles were stable, but only when all sides remained equal.
Once one grew longer — once imbalance appeared — collapse became inevitable.
Power was the only insurance against betrayal.
And Kei intended to keep his insurance ironclad.
His words silenced the other two almost immediately.
---
"How's Kenta's experiment coming?" Kei asked after a pause. "And how will you record the data?"
"Almost ready," Ayaka replied. "We'll start with external fusion tests — unless he insists on trying an internal one."
"External," Kenta cut in quickly.
"As I thought." Ayaka's eyes flickered with mild disappointment. "Fine. The data will still be useful — especially compared to Kei's results."
Kei nodded approvingly.
"Good. Then get started. And Kenta—"
his gaze sharpened —
"just because you carry the Senju bloodline doesn't mean those cells won't eat you alive."
"I'm ready," Kenta said firmly. "If you can survive it, so can I.
Don't forget — Senju blood runs through my veins."
Yet when the time came, the "descendant of the Senju" still chose the safer route — an external experiment.
Having seen what happened to earlier test subjects — bodies sprouting roots and turning into living plants —
Kenta made the only rational decision.
Kei didn't mock him for it.
Caution, after all, was a trait they all shared.
Each of them valued survival above pride.
Ayaka didn't ridicule him either — though a faint glint of regret passed through her pale eyes.
She'd lost a valuable living test subject.
---
Kenta's experiment was… unstable, to say the least.
His cells were already highly active — as expected from someone with exceptional chakra recovery.
But that vitality, combined with Senju heritage, made his fusion with the White Zetsu cells dangerously effective.
Too effective.
Without the proper suppression, the foreign cells erupted — mutating, multiplying, threatening to consume their host entirely.
It kept Ayaka occupied for weeks.
To reduce her workload, she had Iori pause her duties and study under her directly,
while the Eternal Mangekyō cell extraction continued in parallel.
By now, the storage was more than sufficient.
They were still drawing samples only as a precaution — and to deliberately limit the eyes' growth potential.
It wasn't particularly effective.
No matter how much they weakened them, the Eternal Eyes remained what they were — power incarnate.
But Kei wasn't trying to cripple them completely.
He just wanted to ensure that when his own eyes evolved further,
they wouldn't become a direct threat — even if he and Fugaku ever turned against each other.
Preparedness was survival.
---
In truth, Kei considered himself merciful.
He could've taken far more extreme measures —
placed binding seals within the Eternal Eyes,
or even extracted material from Obito Uchiha's potential visitations.
But such paranoia wasn't worth the cost.
He wasn't here to kill the golden goose — just to make sure it never bit back.
---
After over a month of preparation, Kenta finally attempted his first internal fusion.
It went badly.
His body convulsed, wracked by violent rejection and unbearable pain.
For a moment, Kei genuinely considered donating blood to stabilize him.
But he resisted.
Uchiha blood could suppress Senju cells —
just as Senju blood once suppressed the Sharingan.
Yet Kei's own blood wasn't that potent.
Too much interference could have destroyed them both.
Thankfully, Kenta's agony lasted only a few days before subsiding into a manageable, low-level reaction.
It took him a full month to recover.
---
And in that month, Konoha continued to move.
Word reached Kei of political "adjustments."
Those who had protested the expansion of the Police Force were quietly purged —
nothing drastic, but enough to send a message.
Even Hiruzen Sarutobi was untouched — unsurprising, considering Obito's mysterious nature.
No one could have stopped that infiltration.
But this "cleanup" had clearly been a test —
a calculated performance to gauge Minato's loyalty and his stance toward the Uchiha.
The message was clear.
The Third Hokage was probing — softly, subtly, like a shadow sliding beneath the door.
Kei could see it for what it was.
He knew Hiruzen wouldn't stop.
And yet, the man's patient manipulation still disgusted him.
---
"Still brooding over the Third?" Ayaka's voice broke the silence as she set a cup of tea on his desk.
"Thinking won't change anything," she added lightly. "Though I will admit — your chakra has increased again."
"It has," Kei replied, taking the cup with a faint smile.
The tea was perfectly brewed — aromatic, calming.
He glanced at the table beside him and noticed Kenta's cup was conspicuously missing.
"Only two cups?" Kei asked, amused.
"Of course," Ayaka said coolly. "He's been acting like a patient, and I've been treating him like one. Why should I serve him tea?"
"Fair point," Kei chuckled. "Besides, I was the one who filed his medical leave."
Kenta rolled his eyes from his cot but said nothing.
Kei sipped thoughtfully. The tea was smooth — surprisingly refined.
He wasn't an expert, but even he could taste the difference from his usual hurried brews.
"You make good tea," he said finally. "Teach Iori sometime — she could use something to calm her mind. Too much pressure isn't good for her."
"No problem," Ayaka replied with a small smile. "You're rather fond of your little 'sister,' aren't you? Should I teach her flower arranging next?"
"Do what you want," Kei said casually. "Just to be clear — it's not affection. It's appreciation. She has what we don't."
"Leave me out of this," Kenta muttered. "I'm purely practical."
Neither of them believed that for a second.
But his next question drew Kei's attention.
"Captain, how's your… condition?" Kenta asked, his tone serious now. "With all those samples fused, you should theoretically possess the potential for Wood Release, right?"
Kei raised an eyebrow.
"Possibly. But I've never tried. You never gave me the formulas for the technique, after all.
I do sense new chakra affinities, though — Water and Earth."
He could feel it — the quiet hum of dual nature chakra running through him.
But he hadn't explored it yet.
The Sharingan, his fire techniques, and his growing ocular power were already enough.
There would be time for everything else later — when his evolution was complete.
"My goal," he thought silently, "is to master all five elements… and the Yin–Yang Release beyond them."
Kenta nodded slowly, half in awe, half in dread.
"Then I suppose I'll just have to test it myself."
"Do," Kei said softly, his smile returning. "I'd love to see that legendary power with my own eyes."
Then his tone shifted, calm but weighty.
"But we'll need more than experiments.
The future demands preparation — resources, alliances, influence.
It's time we started building something larger."
Ayaka tilted her head.
"Preparation? What exactly do you have in mind, Kei-kun?"
Kei's lips curved into a thin, knowing smile.
"Tell me," he said quietly. "Have either of you heard of Konoha's 'Four Great Pillars'?"
Ayaka's eyes narrowed.
"You mean the so-called 'Three Titans' now, don't you? Since one of them's long gone."
"Exactly," Kei said, his lips curving into a faint, dangerous smile.
"So… what do you think about taking their place?"
The lab fell silent for a moment —
the hum of the machines, the faint smell of tea, the steady rhythm of chakra monitors in the background.
Then, slowly, Ayaka's lips curved upward too.
"Interesting," she murmured.
Kenta just exhaled and chuckled under his breath.
And in that quiet, dimly lit lab, a new alliance — a new trinity — began to take shape.
Not bound by blood, not by clan, but by ambition.
The dawn of the next Three Titans of Konoha had begun.