The night wind, carrying scattered snow, swept past the eaves, rustling as it fell on the icy stone steps, tapping out a fine, fragmented sound.
Makoto watched Itachi's back disappear at the mouth of the alley, a satisfied curve lifting the corner of his mouth. When he turned to go back inside to sleep, his steps carried a light, skipping cheerfulness.
The moon outside the window had just climbed to its zenith, its silver glow stretching Makoto's shadow long, like a giant full of mischief.
Early the next morning, just as the first light of dawn tinged the eastern sky, the commotion in the yard woke Makoto.
Rubbing his eyes, he pushed open the door and ran right into Itachi walking in with unsteady steps. The youth's clothes were stained with mud and grass, dark circles heavy under his eyes, the fingers holding his tool pouch trembling slightly.
His panting breaths were hoarse with exhaustion. It can be seen that he had stayed up the entire night.
"As expected of you, Itachi, truly excellent," Makoto leaned against the doorframe, unable to resist praising Itachi again. "This is how the Will of Fire should be! You are truly Sasuke's pride!"
Hearing this, Itachi's head snapped up, his scattered black pupils instantly lighting up, like dusty stars being wiped clean.
He opened his mouth as if to say something, but in the end, just nodded vigorously. He took the overnight rice ball Makoto fetched from his room and swallowed it in three or four bites, not even bothering to drink water.
Grabbing his tool pouch, he rushed out again like a gust of wind, his steps actually radiating a kind of ignited excitement. He was simply a superman.
Makoto stared at Itachi's retreating back, his eyebrow twitching. He mused inwardly, 'The Will of Fire really is harmful... Just a few simple words, and Itachi becomes a nuclear-powered workhorse.'
'If this continues, won't Itachi die from overwork early?'
After breakfast, Makoto sauntered into the study. A shabby wooden box on the bottom shelf caught his attention.
Makoto raised an eyebrow, took out the box, and opened it. Inside lay a book with a gold-stamped cover, the words 'Icha Icha Violence' gleamed with an oily sheen, and the corner was stamped with the large characters 'Limited Edition'.
'Well, isn't this the latest work by one of the Sannin, Jiraiya?' Makoto glanced at the price on the back of the book, his pupils contracting sharply. Tapping the cover with his fingertip, he couldn't help but think inwardly.
'Fugaku really is an old man with a young heart. Putting on a stern face all day, pretending to be serious, but secretly reading this kind of book every day. He's probably a closet pervert like Kakashi.'
'So stingy with me, but buying books is one thing, he even buys the limited edition. Really too much.'
He opened it and flipped through a couple of pages randomly. The ink smell was quite pleasant, but the content made Makoto's eyelids feel heavy.
After reading for just a short while, he stuffed it back into the corner.
Once he finished this busy period, he would copy out the several great 'masterpieces' from his previous life to make a round of money.
After a while, Makoto started feeling a bit itchy inside.
Not for anything lewd, but because he had extorted ten million Ryo from Orochimaru yesterday. The feeling of sudden wealth was just too exhilarating.
Now he wanted more...
Thinking that Orochimaru was about to defect soon, and he wouldn't be able to fleece him for a long time, Makoto felt like he was missing out.
After pondering for a moment, he decided to go find Orochimaru again and shamelessly borrow some more money.
A little bit of reputation was nowhere near as important as using money to get stronger.
Just as he stepped out of the study, he bumped into Sasuke squatting under the corridor eaves, drawing circles.
The little guy had his back to him, shoulders hunched, his cheeks puffed out like an angry pufferfish.
Hearing Makoto's footsteps, he turned his head sharply. His black eyes were full of anger.
Seeing Makoto, he didn't speak, just squeezed a light snort from his nose.
Makoto had been a bit busy these past two days, so he hadn't paid him much attention. He didn't know who had made him angry, but it definitely had nothing to do with him. He scurried out of the house in a flash.
Sasuke watched Makoto's departing back, grabbed a small stone, and threw it out hard. It hit the corridor pillar with a 'thwack'.
"Damn it!" He muttered under his breath, his arms still aching faintly, moving the flowers yesterday had made his arms sore.
All he wanted was a word of praise from Makoto, but he still hadn't gotten it...
After leaving the Clan Head's residence, Makoto headed straight for Shisui's house. He didn't want to meet Orochimaru alone now.
Not that he was afraid of dying, but he was afraid of Genjutsu.
The gate to Shisui's courtyard was open. The youth was sitting on the stone steps, polishing his sword.
Sunlight filtered through the branches onto his profile. The silvery-white blade gleamed coldly in his palm. Every stroke of the cloth was exceptionally careful, even the tassel fringe was arranged meticulously.
"Morning," Makoto approached, smiling like a little sun, "Got a minute to talk?"
For the next half hour, Makoto talked from 'dancing leaves symbolizing the Will of Fire' to 'Makoto's personal Will of Fire', doing his best to 'misinterpret' the Will of Fire, making his listener nod repeatedly.
The light in Shisui's black eyes grew brighter and brighter, he even forgot to polish his sword.
In the end, he practically beat his chest, vowing to shed the last drop of his blood for the Will of Fire.
This kind of brainwashing couldn't be done overnight, it had to be gradual. After ensuring Shisui would protect him if danger arose, Makoto suddenly changed the subject.
"Speaking of which, we're basically Orochimaru's people now, right? Shouldn't we go report to him regularly? Shows sincerity, allows for communication, helps him become the Godaime Hokage sooner."
Shisui thought for a moment and nodded: "Then let's go. What about Itachi? Isn't he coming?"
Hearing this, Makoto directly shook his head: "He has a very important mission right now. The two of us can go."
Itachi was currently shining and heating up for the Will of Fire, while incidentally earning money for him. This matter was very important and couldn't be delayed.
What if he didn't manage to extort money from Orochimaru? He was still counting on Itachi to earn that tiny bit shortfall for his power-up.
Then, the two walked side by side towards the laboratory where they had met Orochimaru yesterday.
The wind brushed past their ears, carrying the fragrance of mountain grasses, but without the lingering fishy stench from before.
Makoto's steps gradually slowed. The corner of his eye scanned the cracks in the roadside rocks, the small snakes that were everywhere yesterday were gone today, leaving only empty crevices.
'Something's wrong,' Makoto mused inwardly, his brow slightly furrowed, 'If ten points is normal, this is at least thirteen points wrong.'
The moment the lab entrance came into view, Makoto's steps faltered.
The heavy stone door from yesterday was now a mess of debris on the ground. The largest piece was no bigger than a fist, the broken edges showing white splinters, clearly shattered not long ago.
"Whoa, was this blasted by a Ninjutsu?" Makoto bent down, picked up a small stone, and rubbed the powder on it between his fingers. "That's some vicious handiwork."
Seeing this, Makoto's first thought was that Orochimaru had been exposed and defected.
But then he reconsidered. If Orochimaru had truly defected, the Konoha's Military Police Force couldn't possibly not know.
"Let's go in and look," Makoto tossed the small stone back to the ground and, unwilling to give up, led Shisui into the laboratory.
The lab door was ajar, creaking lightly with a push.
What greeted them wasn't yesterday's fishy smell and chemical odor, but an empty, cold wind that swept up a swirl of dust from the floor.
The shelves that should have been filled with equipment were completely bare. The petri dishes containing unknown liquids in the corners were gone, not even a trace left. Forget experimental records or test subjects, you couldn't even find a single hair.
It was as if this had never been a secret laboratory, just an abandoned cave.
Makoto raised an eyebrow, reached out, and tapped around, producing hollow 'clanging' sounds.
'Cleaned up pretty thoroughly.' He mused inwardly, his tone full of displeasure, 'This doesn't look like a defection! This is clearly a secret move!'
'What's this guy doing, moving labs for no reason?' Makoto stroked his chin and muttered inwardly, a mischievous glint flashing in his eyes, 'Could it be that after being extorted by me yesterday, he's afraid I'll come back to fleece him again?'
Shisui stood at the entrance, frowning deeply as he looked at the empty cave: "What's going on? Could something have happened to Orochimaru-sama?"
The thought that their plan might have failed right at the start made Shisui feel a bit discouraged.
"Probably just moved locations, no need to worry," Makoto waved his hand, comforting Shisui.
He searched around the lab for a good while longer but found nothing of value. When leaving, he walked over to the remains of the stone door and couldn't help but think inwardly.
'Guess if the stone door wasn't so big, that old fox Orochimaru would have taken it with him too?'
Makoto wasn't too disappointed in his heart. As a person, one must know contentment for constant happiness. He didn't manage to pull it off this time, so he mentally noted down a debt with Orochimaru.
In the future, he would definitely make him pay it back tenfold, a hundredfold.
The two walked side by side back to the clan's compound, parting ways at the fork in the road.
For the next few days, Makoto wandered around everywhere, while Itachi was responsible for adding bricks and tiles to the Will of Fire, incidentally earning him some money.
At noon one day, it was unusually not snowing. The sun was just right, warming people pleasantly. Makoto wandered to the flower shop's entrance and caught sight of a familiar figure.
It was Yakushi Kabuto.
Compared to his tense demeanor when he was a spy in Root, Kabuto seemed much more relaxed now, even the heaviness between his brows had lightened.
Seeing this, Makoto raised an eyebrow, 'It seemed Orochimaru's efficiency was indeed quite high, he had already fished Kabuto out of Root.'
Seeing this situation, Makoto decided to let Kabuto know who had helped him.
When doing bad deeds, one could be sneaky, or use the name of the Blame Kage. But when doing good deeds, one must publicize them widely.
One must be clever. Burying your head in hard work is useless, the most important thing is to have the beneficiary repay the favor. He, Uchiha Makoto, was no pure and saintly figure.
His, Uchiha Makoto's, favors not only had to be repaid, but they had to be repaid as soon as possible, otherwise, interest would compound.
"Ino, busy?" Makoto lifted the door curtain and walked into the flower shop, smiling at Ino, who was counting petals behind the counter.
"Makoto-nii!"
Hearing this, Ino immediately put down the petals in her hand, poked her little head out from behind the counter, her golden hair shimmering like a little sun under the sunlight.
She immediately ran to Makoto's front.