Chapter 279 – True and False Records
By noon, Kei was standing in the dim corridors of the underground laboratory hidden deep behind the Uchiha clan's forest — a stack of thick documents in his hand.
He had to admit: Uchiha Kawa and Uchiha Ryu were reliable men.
The forged reports they'd produced were near perfect — so flawless, in fact, that even when Kei examined them with his Sharingan, he couldn't spot a single discrepancy.
Every page looked and felt authentic.
Even the handwriting, the ink aging, the paper texture — all meticulously replicated.
He almost believed them himself.
After all, ninety percent of the contents were true.
Claims that the Hyūga clan had once called themselves descendants of the Ōtsutsuki,
that their ancestors had come from the moon,
that they had descended to the shinobi world through a "celestial passage" —
none of this was fabricated by Kei.
Only the dates had been tampered with.
If you want to deceive others, start by deceiving yourself.
That was a maxim Kei had always believed in.
How much of it Ayaka Hyūga would believe, however, was another matter entirely.
Still, he was satisfied — with both the documents, and with Ryu's progress.
Perhaps it was fear that kept the young man sharp. His mental energy had been burning hot during their illusion training — a crucial factor in ensuring he wouldn't lose himself.
Of course, Kei had omitted one important truth:
this genjutsu — the one he'd used to force the boy's awakening — was now entirely under his control.
But Ryu hadn't relied on Kei's help.
Driven by pride or desperation, he'd torn himself out of the illusion alone.
When he came to, drenched in sweat and trembling, he'd succeeded —
one eye bearing two tomoe, the other one.
A rare potential indeed.
"If I remember right," Kei mused as he walked toward the lab chamber,
"Sasuke Uchiha had the same pattern once… before he even realized he'd awakened it."
Sasuke's eyes had opened on the night of the massacre, when he was barely seven.
If he hadn't awakened them, he'd never have seen Itachi's tears that night.
Kei shook the thought away.
That future — that tragedy — would never be allowed to happen.
Not in his timeline.
Not under his watch.
---
He arrived at the research wing where Uchiha Shuu's body was stored.
To his surprise, the room was quiet — occupied only by Iori, the young apprentice medic.
The small girl was clumsily extracting tissue samples from Shuu's eyes. Her hands were practiced but trembling, her face pale.
Each time she inserted a tool, she squeezed her eyes shut, as if afraid to witness the horror before her.
When she noticed Kei's presence, her fear spiked.
"A-Ah— Kei-sama!" she stammered.
Kei frowned slightly. "How many times do I have to say this? Just call me Kei."
He glanced around. "Where's Ayaka? Not here yet?"
"She's in the next room, reading the fusion reports…" Iori murmured, lowering her head.
It was understandable — an eight or nine-year-old child shouldn't be anywhere near a place like this.
"Are you… getting used to it here?" Kei asked quietly.
"I—I think so…" she whispered.
He could tell she was lying.
Her trembling voice, her eyes darting toward the containment pod — it was obvious.
The fear, the revulsion… it was all there.
If her talent had been ordinary, Kei would have wiped her memory clean and sent her back to live a peaceful life.
But her aptitude for medical ninjutsu was extraordinary — even Ayaka had been impressed.
And Kei couldn't afford to waste that potential.
Still, he wasn't like Danzō.
He couldn't bring himself to strip away a child's humanity,
to reduce her to a mindless tool that believed it deserved to be one.
He sighed softly. There were always moments when humanity and pragmatism walked in opposite directions — and Kei was left balancing between them.
Maybe one day, when his research was complete and he no longer needed her skills,
he'd erase her memories… and give her a real life.
"I understand," he said finally, his face calm.
"You've done well. Take two days off — tomorrow and the day after. Go see your friends."
Iori's eyes lit up, wide with disbelief.
"R-Really? But… it's not an official rest day—"
"It's a gift," Kei interrupted.
"Just remember what you can and can't talk about."
"I know…" she said softly, glancing again at the containment pod —
at Uchiha Shuu, the broken man inside, still alive yet long past salvation.
Kei said nothing more. He'd already pushed his compassion as far as it would go.
Any further, and the part of him that still bled would turn to ice.
---
He formed a hand seal.
The pod stirred — and slowly, Shuu lifted his head, eyes opening.
Twin Eternal Mangekyō Sharingan gleamed faintly in the dim light.
An immense, oppressive aura flooded the room.
Those eyes — incomplete, yet already divine — glowed with an ancient, terrifying power.
Even half-formed, they radiated the might of a sleeping god.
Kei smirked faintly.
"You've been rotting here for too long. Half your chakra's gone, and I've drained enough of your cells to build an army."
"Let's see what you've got left when you're finally complete."
With that, he turned and left, the hum of machinery fading behind him.
Whatever Ayaka intended by leaving Iori alone with that monster, he wouldn't interfere.
If the girl was strong enough to endure it — that would be its own lesson.
---
Ayaka's door was slightly ajar. Kei pushed it open and found her deeply focused, her pale eyes scanning several reports under lamplight.
"You're early," she said without looking up. "Good. I have something to show you."
"Oh?" Kei stepped closer, handing her the bundle of forged files. "I might have something for you too."
"Hmm? One thing at a time."
She slid a new report toward him. "These are the latest readings — the fusion progress of those eyes."
Kei skimmed the page. "They're close?"
"Very. Two months at most. No matter how much cellular material we extract, the fusion will complete itself soon."
She leaned back slightly. "By the way, your little sister — she may lack shinobi talent, but her grasp of theory is astonishing. I've already assigned her to assist me."
"Fine. If she's that capable, trust your judgment," Kei said, flipping to another folder. "And this one — about Imai Kenta?"
Ayaka nodded. "We compared your data with his. His external fusion rate with the White Zetsu cells is far higher than yours."
"So?" Kei asked, curious.
"So… there's no real comparison," she said with a wry smile. "He's a descendant of the Senju. The fusion works, yes — but without an internal restraint, the cells go wild. That's why Orochimaru's earlier subjects all died horribly."
"Over-fusion," Kei murmured. "Like the ones we found in that lab."
"Exactly. The Hashirama cells overpower the host and consume the body."
Kei chuckled dryly. "Imai Kenta got off lucky then."
But the topic bored him. His thoughts drifted toward more useful power — Sage techniques, and the experiments still waiting.
---
"By the way," Ayaka's voice pulled him back, "those papers you brought — what are they?"
"Ah, these?" Kei lifted the folder, smiling. "The files you asked for — about the Hyūga's origins."
Ayaka took them with both hands and began to read.
Minutes passed. Then ten.
She read them again and again, her pale eyes darting across every word.
By the third time, her breathing had changed — shallower, faster.
"Are these… real?" she finally whispered.
"Would I have any reason to lie to you?" Kei replied calmly.
"A false record would only sow distrust. If I wanted that, I'd simply say nothing at all."
She looked down again, visibly shaken.
"I never imagined… this could be true," she murmured.
"Who could?" Kei said with a soft laugh. "Just as no one would've guessed that Uchiha and Senju DNA are… complementary."
Ayaka's expression hardened slightly — the rational scientist inside her colliding with her clan pride.
The thought that the Hyūga weren't native to the ninja world — that they were outsiders — was staggering.
Her mind swirled with questions.
If the Hyūga came from the moon, why were there no records?
Why was the clan's point of origin lost — even erased?
Could such a proud lineage really have fallen from the stars?
---
"Do you think," she said at last, "the moon is a dead world?"
"Unlikely," Kei said after a moment's thought.
"If it were, your ancestors wouldn't have survived the journey. There must still be something there — or someone."
Ayaka's brow furrowed. "Then why leave? If they loved it so much, why abandon it?"
Kei smiled faintly. "Maybe they didn't leave by choice. Maybe they were exiled. Losers of some ancient conflict.
They dream of the place they can never return to — doesn't that sound… familiar?"
He didn't elaborate further. The less he said, the safer his lies remained.
Ayaka fell silent, lost in thought.
As she stared at the pages, she didn't notice that the corner of one had caught fire —
the paper curling into ash.
Kei moved before she could react, taking her hand and flicking the embers away.
"Careful," he said quietly. "A burn doesn't hurt at first. But later… it always does."
Ayaka blinked up at him, momentarily startled. Then, softly, she smiled.
"I didn't think you could be so gentle, Kei-kun."
"You're not the first to say that," he replied, releasing her hand. "And probably not the last.
Kindness… just means I'm still human."
"Or maybe it's just another mask," she said with a teasing smile.
"But either way, it suits you better than the one you wear on the battlefield."
Kei gave a quiet laugh. "Maybe."
The war was over — or nearly so.
And for the first time in years, the mask of the killer could rest.
In truth, Kei rarely showed his cold, calculating side within the village.
To most — whether they truly knew him or not — he appeared as a kind, composed, and immensely capable man.
That was the mask he wore — one he'd carefully shaped through years of quiet manipulation.
A gentle smile here, a well-timed word there — and soon enough, "Uchiha Kei" had become synonymous with both strength and compassion.
Only those who truly knew him understood what lay behind the façade — the precision of his thoughts, the danger in his restraint, and the constant, icy vigilance in his eyes.
---
As for the wars raging outside Konoha?
He couldn't care less.
If anything, the bloodier they became, the better it was for the Leaf.
The more bodies fell on foreign soil, the safer Konoha's peace became.
Still, when news came that most nations had begun peace talks after seeing Konoha stabilize, Kei couldn't help but feel a flicker of annoyance.
So the vultures have finally put down their claws, he thought bitterly.
But even peace bred new problems.
The Nine-Tails incident had shaken every nation — and though Konoha had survived, rumors of weakness always spread faster than truth.
Other villages had begun to stir again, testing the waters, hungry for opportunity.
---
Yet this time, things were different.
Unlike the original timeline, where the death of the Fourth Hokage had frozen all movement, Minato was still alive.
And that changed everything.
Would the Hidden Cloud still dare to provoke Konoha in three years' time?
Would they still attempt their infamous "peace mission" that led to the Hyūga Incident?
If Minato's survival deterred them…
Kei would be disappointed.
He needed that conflict — that spark — to move forward with his own plans.
---
After all, the Cloud had always recovered the fastest after every war.
Their economy, their military, their leadership — all remarkably efficient.
By the end of the Third Great Ninja War, they had already surpassed Konoha in sheer strength.
Ambitious. Proud. Physically gifted.
And above all — greedy.
It was only natural that their eyes would turn toward Konoha's greatest treasures:
the two ocular clans — the Uchiha and the Hyūga.
"But why," Kei mused inwardly, "would they go after the Byakugan instead of the Sharingan?"
Did they think the Hyūga were easier targets?
Or was it mere coincidence that their "envoy" would visit during Hinata's birthday?
He frowned. No matter how he turned it over, the logic didn't quite fit.
Surely the Cloud didn't truly believe the Byakugan was more valuable than the Sharingan?
That would be absurd.
No way, he thought dryly. No one's that stupid… right?
Even their lightning-style combat — the Lightning Chakra Mode that enhanced the body's speed and reflexes —
was far better countered by the Sharingan's predictive sight than by the Byakugan's precision vision.
So why target the Hyūga?
Unless, of course, the Cloud had already analyzed Konoha's internal politics.
Maybe they'd realized the Uchiha were a loaded weapon — volatile, proud, and barely contained.
Why risk setting off an explosion when you could quietly plant a bomb elsewhere?
Yes. That made more sense.
A divided Konoha was easier to control.
If both the Uchiha and Hyūga turned against the village at once, even Minato wouldn't be able to contain the chaos.
And between the two, the Hyūga were far more likely to submit quietly to manipulation.
---
Kei sighed, rubbing his temple. "Hmph… politics really does make everything uglier."
He turned toward Ayaka Hyūga, who had been quietly sorting medical notes nearby.
"By the way," he asked, "your clan mentioned wanting to recommend someone for promotion — a candidate for the new division leader. Who is it?"
Ayaka looked up from her notes.
"No one's been decided yet. But I can tell you now, it won't be me."
She arched a brow, a faint smirk on her lips.
"Or are you planning to make me one yourself, Kei-kun?"
"No," Kei said, shaking his head. "You're coming to headquarters with me.
Managing a single district is beneath you. Your talents are better used at the center."
"Perhaps," Ayaka replied lightly. "Still, I'll have to speak with my clan first."
"Suit yourself," Kei said, stretching lazily. "Just make sure they don't send me an embarrassment. If they do… I won't hesitate to send him/her back."
His tone was calm, but there was no mistaking the edge beneath it.
He wasn't bluffing.
If the Hyūga tried to push some unqualified fool on him—
Kei would reject him without a second thought.
Whatever the clan thought of him afterward didn't matter.
Because in Konoha's new order, Uchiha Kei didn't need anyone's approval.