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Two more years passed. Two years of Indra grinding himself down to the bone in training.
Then he challenged Asura again.
This time it wasn't about Ninshū. No succession on the line. No politics. Pure combat, pure pride, two brothers settling the only question that still mattered between them.
The result: Asura won. Barely.
..............
Mount Myōboku. The pavilion at the center of the lake.
Tea steam curled through the air between the three figures seated around the stone table.
"Sigh."
Indra sat hunched on the stone bench, dark hair in disarray, residual combat-chakra still clinging to his clothes like smoke after a fire. He'd thrown everything he had at Asura. Every technique, every strategy, every scrap of power he'd accumulated over two years of relentless training.
And it still wasn't enough. One move short. One step behind.
He looked like a man who'd been hollowed out and forgotten to refill.
"Little Indra, you're still too young for this kind of thing. Stop picking fights."
Fukasaku cradled a ceramic teacup in both hands, took a leisurely sip, and spoke with the unhurried wisdom of someone who'd been alive long enough to watch the same mistakes repeat across generations.
"Instead of obsessing over that rivalry, why not settle down here on Mount Myōboku? Live a good life. Take it easy."
Black Zetsu nodded along, tea in hand. "He's right. There are worse places to grow old."
"NO! I'M GOING AGAIN!"
Indra's fist slammed down, knuckles white against the stone. His face flushed dark with frustration.
"You don't understand! Asura has become my obsession! I can't walk away until I've beaten him!"
Fukasaku and Black Zetsu exchanged a knowing look. Same conclusion. The boy was gone. Completely consumed by this rivalry, no way out, no interest in finding one.
"And what makes it WORSE—" Indra's head snapped up. Something ugly and complicated churned behind his eyes. "Asura got MARRIED! He's sitting on top of Ninshū AND he has a wife! How is any of that fair?"
It was that specific, infuriating flavor of injustice. Like watching a friend who was objectively less talented, less driven, less everything coast through life collecting wins that should have been yours. The fact that they shared blood only made the sting sharper.
"Please!"
Indra shot to his feet and bowed deeply to both of them.
"Sage Fukasaku. Sage Black Zetsu. You're both incredibly powerful. Help me fight Asura! With your strength backing me, I KNOW I can win!"
The request hung in the air for about two seconds before both faces went stiff.
"Ahem. You and Asura are both Hagoromo's sons. Hagoromo was the Grand Sage's personal student. That makes both of you Mount Myōboku's descendants. In our eyes, there's no difference between you." Black Zetsu set down his teacup and straightened up. "Mount Myōboku stays neutral. That's the policy."
Fukasaku nodded firmly. "What Black Zetsu said. Neutrality is our grand strategy."
Indra's hands dropped to his sides. The desperate light in his eyes dimmed to something duller. He wasn't stupid. He knew better than to drag Mount Myōboku into his personal vendetta. No matter how much he wanted it, turning the Sage Regions against Ninshū was never going to happen.
Seeing the dejection settle over Indra's face, Fukasaku's eyes suddenly lit up.
"Indra! Stop moping! So Asura got married? Then YOU get married! He has one kid? You have FIVE! Boom, you win!"
Fukasaku slapped the stone table with his front leg, grinning like he'd just solved world peace.
Black Zetsu's face brightened instantly. "BRILLIANT! Now THAT'S a winning strategy!"
"Build my own power base..."
Indra froze mid-spiral. The storm clouds behind his eyes parted, and something sharp and calculating took their place.
Not the children part specifically. But the 'concept.' Found a clan. Build a legacy. Create a force that could rival Ninshū on its own terms.
The idea hit him like cold water to the face.
'Why didn't I think of this sooner?'
The gloom evaporated. Indra straightened up, bowed crisply to both of them, voice carrying a new energy that hadn't been there thirty seconds ago.
"Sage Fukasaku. Sage Black Zetsu. You're both geniuses. I have things to do. I'll be back to thank you properly over drinks."
He turned and walked out of the pavilion. Back straight. Stride long. Not a trace of defeat left on him.
Fukasaku and Black Zetsu watched him go, caught each other's eye, and grinned.
Kid's sharp. You only have to point him in the right direction once.
..............
The next morning. Grand Sage Hall.
Indra walked in with purpose.
"Founding Patriarch. I want to leave Mount Myōboku. Go make something of myself in the outside world."
He dropped to one knee. Respectful. Resolved.
"Oh?" Manji sat on the elevated throne, looking down at Indra, and read everything the boy wasn't saying in about half a second.
This wasn't wanderlust. This was a man who'd lost the battle but refused to lose the war. Indra wanted to build a clan, raise a fighting force, and establish a power base that could stand against Ninshū as an equal.
And that clan, generations down the line, would become the Uchiha.
Manji didn't call him on it.
Wasn't his business to interfere. Wasn't necessary to interfere.
"If that's what you want, then go. Just remember to visit home once in a while."
Indra pressed his forehead to the floor one final time. "Founding Patriarch, after I establish my clan, every generation will honor your name. My children, their children, their children's children. The debt we owe Mount Myōboku will never be forgotten."
"Your kindness is something I could never repay in a single lifetime!"
Manji waved it off gently. "Alright, alright. When you get out there, learn to live like a normal person for a change. Stop letting the fighting consume everything else."
Indra bowed once more, rose, and walked out of the Grand Sage Hall. Every step carried him further from the mountain and closer to whatever destiny was waiting for him in the world below.
Manji watched him go, thinking.
"Building a power base, huh..."
His thoughts were interrupted by rapid footsteps. Shima, who now ran the intelligence division, came hopping in at full speed.
"Grand Sage! Urgent intelligence report!"
"We've discovered an unknown descendant of Hagoromo living among the civilian population!"
Manji's brush stopped moving. A question mark materialized above his head. "Hagoromo's descendant? He had bloodline beyond Indra and Asura?"
His mind raced. In canon, Hagoromo only had two sons. Were there other Six Paths bloodline carriers mentioned in the original story?
A spark of recognition.
"Unless... it's their ancestor?"
'If we're talking about people who carried Hagoromo's blood outside the Indra-Asura line... there actually were two in canon.' Manji's eyes sharpened. He turned to Shima.
"I'll look into this personally."
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