Chapter 315 – Council of Shadows
"Since you've already made your decision, Shikaku," Kei said with mild confusion, "why come to me about it?"
At midday, the Uchiha officer sat in his own living room, facing Nara Shikaku, who looked unusually serious for someone usually half-asleep behind a desk.
Kei had been idling all morning, debating whether to head to the training grounds for a light workout or perhaps visit some of his old comrades—the so-called "Future of Konoha."
He hadn't even made it to the door when Shikaku appeared at his home unannounced.
The sudden visit caught him completely off guard—especially since it seemed the man had come straight from work the moment his shift ended.
Still, at least the house was empty.
Uchiha Keisuke was minding the small family store, Ryōko had gone along to help, and little Iori had returned to the orphanage for volunteer work.
So, for once, the great Uchiha Kei had the house—and this unexpected guest—to himself.
After some brief small talk, the reason for Shikaku's visit became clear.
And that reason made Kei choke on his tea.
Apparently, his activities in the Mist Village had been fully reported back to Konoha.
To be perfectly honest, Kei himself hadn't realized just how much destruction he'd caused.
Yes, the battle had been fierce. Yes, he'd pushed himself. But counting casualties in the middle of combat? That was the last thing on his mind.
Now, with Shikaku sitting across from him and the Anbu's compiled reports spread on the table, he finally understood the scope of what he'd done.
And even he had to admit—it was absurd.
The numbers, the economic fallout, the political shockwaves… his one-man operation had reshaped an entire nation's balance of power.
Even for him, that was difficult to process.
Shikaku, however, wasn't there just to talk about body counts.
"This mission… it's stirred quite a storm," he said, voice low. "I had to see you in person. How many people know the full extent of your abilities, Kei?"
Kei tilted his head, realizing where this was going.
"You mean my combat methods? My arsenal?" He smirked faintly. "Nothing too secret, I'd think. Within Konoha, most of it's known. I used the Lightning Blade, Raikiri, some swordwork, and of course—Susanoo. If someone connects the dots…"
"Then we'll have a problem," Shikaku finished grimly, rubbing his temples. "Because that means we'll soon be hunting Mist Village spies inside our own walls."
Kei sighed softly and nodded. "You're right. The Police Force will prioritize rooting them out. Consider it already done."
He wasn't defensive—just practical.
So what if his lightning techniques were recognized? Raikiri and Chidori weren't exclusive to him; Kakashi used them too.
And if someone suspected him of being the "mysterious Uchiha," well—so be it.
After all, the real controller of Kirigakure was now his reluctant ally: Uchiha Obito.
Kei had turned that particular snake to his advantage precisely for situations like this.
When things needed cleaning up, when loose ends needed cutting—Obito was the perfect shadow to handle it.
Still, caution was necessary.
The Mist's Anbu corps had been divided internally—one half loyal to the Mizukage's regime, the other secretly manipulated by Obito's hand.
Kei would have to monitor both.
If any embedded spies were still active inside Konoha, they'd need to be erased—quickly and quietly.
Capture, interrogation if absolutely necessary… then disposal. No exceptions.
"There's something else," Shikaku said, shifting gears. "About you personally."
Kei raised a brow. "You want me to lie low for a while, don't you?"
Shikaku gave a dry smile. "You already know me too well."
He nodded, serious again. "You're part of Konoha's inner circle now. It'd be best if you avoid leaving the village until this settles. At least until Kirigakure seals its borders again—or until we've cleaned out every last spy."
Kei chuckled quietly. "Agreed. Don't worry, I've no reason to go gallivanting off again anytime soon."
It was true. He'd caused enough waves to last a year.
Now was the time to rest, analyze, and refine what he'd learned.
The battle at the Mist had pushed his power further than ever—his eyes felt on the verge of evolving again, and his chakra flow had noticeably deepened.
He could feel it with every breath.
For now, his task was not to fight—but to absorb.
"By the way," Shikaku added, "which clans did you approach during your mission? If we're expecting defectors, I need to prepare for their arrival."
Kei paused, thinking. "A few. Hard to say who'll actually come. But if I had to guess…"
He tapped his chin thoughtfully.
"The Yuki Clan seems the most likely. I rather hope they do—they left a good impression."
The others he'd met were either fiercely loyal to the Mist, or had been… persuaded into silence through other means.
His assessment of them was colored by personal instinct more than diplomacy.
Still, he didn't particularly care who came—Konoha would gain regardless.
"I see," Shikaku nodded. "Either way, we should have a plan in place before they arrive. We can't afford to seem unprepared—or cold."
Kei's eyes glinted faintly.
"Actually, Shikaku… I think appearing cold might be better."
Shikaku blinked. "Oh?"
"Overly generous treatment breeds arrogance," Kei said calmly. "If we welcome them too warmly, they'll start to believe they're special.
Give them land—not too close, not too far. Grant them the rights of Konoha citizens and the responsibilities of its shinobi. But beyond that, let them build their own foundations."
He leaned back slightly, tone even.
"If they want to rise, they'll have to earn it. Only that way will they truly integrate into Konoha's system."
Shikaku fell silent for a moment, then smiled slightly.
"…You really do think like a Hokage sometimes."
Kei waved it off. "Please. I prefer strategic realist."
Still, his logic was sound.
Catering too much to outsiders would upset the delicate balance among Konoha's existing clans.
The Uchiha, Hyūga, Nara, Akimichi, Yamanaka—all had long histories and rivalries intertwined with pride.
Introducing new bloodlines into the mix was risky enough; favoring them would be political suicide.
Best to treat them equally—nothing more, nothing less.
That way, those with true skill would naturally ascend through merit, and Konoha's internal stability would remain untouched.
It was a policy that aligned perfectly with the reforms Minato and Kei were already planning:
A merit-based advancement system, open to any shinobi capable of passing the examinations and proving themselves in service.
After about an hour of discussion, Shikaku finally rose to leave.
He still had work to return to, and Kei's patience for formal conversation was wearing thin.
But before departing, the Nara strategist smiled and said warmly,
"We should meet again sometime—off duty, I mean. You're… not quite what I expected, Kei. Strong, clever, and still sane. That's rare these days."
Kei chuckled faintly, walking him to the door.
"Careful, Shikaku. Compliments like that might make me suspicious."
When the door closed, silence returned to the Uchiha household.
Kei sighed and glanced at the papers left behind.
"So, Raikiri, Chidori, Susanoo… almost exposed myself with those, huh?" he murmured.
He shook his head ruefully. "Guess I'll have to start avoiding my favorite tricks."
His entire fighting style revolved around precision, speed, and lethal efficiency.
Lightning techniques suited him perfectly, and Susanoo's defense had saved his life more than once.
They were tools as natural to him as breathing—discarding them would be inconvenient, but perhaps necessary.
Still, he wasn't overly concerned.
In the Mist, the only ones who had truly witnessed his power were either dead… or under Obito's control.
And any traces left behind?
He trusted Obito to erase them.
"Let's just leave it to him," Kei muttered, rising from his seat.
He stepped outside, stretching lightly.
Training grounds? No.
Old comrades? Another time.
He decided instead to head toward the laboratory, curious about Kimimaro's recovery—and to check in with Ayaka Hyūga.
It had been three days since he'd given the Hyūga clan their ultimatum.
Their answer was due tomorrow.
"I honestly thought you wouldn't show up today," Ayaka said when he opened the lab door.
She was seated inside, her pale eyes glancing up in surprise.
Kei shrugged. "Wasn't planning to. But apparently, I can't sit still for long."
His gaze shifted to the boy sitting silently in the corner.
Kimimaro.
The child's expression was eerily blank—calm, silent, emotionless.
Kei tilted his head, intrigued.
"So, he's awake."
Ayaka nodded, though her expression was conflicted.
"I expected tears, confusion, maybe anger… even cries for his mother. But instead, he just sits there. Quiet. Staring at nothing."
Kei crouched beside the boy, studying him closely.
Not a word.
No fear. No sadness.
Just stillness.
"Interesting," Kei murmured.
He'd seen it before—in Kakashi, in the war orphans of his generation.
Children forged by conflict didn't break.
They hardened.
And Kimimaro Kaguya, it seemed, was already halfway to becoming steel.
If he were a transmigrator like Kei, this would all make sense.
But he wasn't.
He was a native—born into this chaotic world, and already tainted by its cruelty.
Kei crouched down, meeting the boy's eyes directly.
"Hey, little one… what's wrong?" he asked softly. "What's your name?"
The child raised his head. His voice was light, almost delicate, but carried no warmth—only emptiness.
"Kaguya Kimimaro."
Kei studied him carefully. The boy didn't look frightened, only eerily calm.
"Alright, Kimimaro," Kei continued, his tone measured. "What are you doing just sitting here?"
Kimimaro blinked once.
"Waiting," he said simply.
"For you to decide what to do with me."
That answer made even Kei pause.
So the kid knew.
He understood perfectly well that his fate rested in their hands.
Kei glanced sideways at Ayaka Hyūga; she met his eyes, her expression mirroring his curiosity.
This child was… interesting.
Kei turned back toward Kimimaro, his lips curling into a faint smile.
Let's see how deep your awareness really goes, little ghost.
"Do you know why you're here?" Kei asked.
Kimimaro met his gaze with unnerving steadiness.
"Because you captured me," he replied flatly. "I remember your face. You were the one who took me."
Kei didn't deny it—but his tone shifted, his words laced with quiet gravity.
"And do you know," he asked, "why no one came to save you?"
Kimimaro's eyes flickered with a hint of confusion, the first real emotion he'd shown.
Kei's voice grew colder.
"Because your clan leader gave the order for me to take you away. Whether you accept it or not, from this day forward—you'll begin a new life here, in Konoha."
As his words faded, Kei's eyes bled crimson.
The three tomoe of his Sharingan spun lazily into focus, gleaming with quiet menace.
Kimimaro's small body stiffened—then his consciousness slipped away, the boy collapsing gently onto the floor.
Kei straightened, looking down at the unconscious child with a faint sigh.
He felt no pity.
Like he'd said—whether the boy accepted it or not, he would live under the Leaf's banner now.
And Kei would make sure of it.
"This child will need guidance," Kei murmured, closing his Sharingan as he turned toward Ayaka.
"But that's fine. I'll find him a place to stay soon."
Ayaka nodded, then added quietly, "I think your prediction might have been right."
Kei blinked. "Oh? Don't tell me… he's already awakened his bloodline?"
"Not fully," she said, her expression thoughtful. "But his cells are highly active. I've detected strange elements within them—components that resonate like chakra itself. It's subtle, but powerful. If my readings are correct…"
She trailed off, her Byakugan eyes narrowing slightly.
Kei didn't need her to finish the sentence.
He understood immediately.
The boy carried the dormant potential of the Kaguya clan's forgotten kekkei genkai—the Shikotsumyaku, the Dead Bone Pulse.
Ayaka herself seemed taken aback by the discovery.
She had expected an orphaned child, not the seed of a bloodline thought extinct.
Kei, however, only smiled faintly.
He had always known Kimimaro would awaken his bloodline someday.
He just hadn't expected the signs to appear so soon.
"Well," he said lightly, "then congratulations, Ayaka. Looks like you'll have something to experiment with sooner than expected."
He turned toward the door, glancing back over his shoulder.
"By the way… how's your clan's 'discussion' going? Tomorrow's the deadline for their answer."
Ayaka sighed, shaking her head. "Nothing's confirmed yet. But from what I've heard… they're leaning toward offering up a branch family member."
Kei smirked knowingly.
"Of course they are," he said. "The Hyūga would rather sacrifice their chains than risk breaking them."