Chapter 230 — Let's Talk About It When We Go Back
The massacre of the Uchiha clan had been planned with chilling precision—and to make matters worse, the blade chosen to deliver the fatal blow belonged to Uchiha Fugaku's own son, Uchiha Itachi.
A murder… and a message straight to the heart.
Yet Fugaku, lacking all critical information, was being manipulated by Hiruzen Sarutobi at every turn.
He didn't even know his own son had been pulled into the Third Hokage's schemes.
I need to find Fugaku right now.
Uchiha Yota threw off the blanket and staggered out of bed.
"Y-Yota, where are you going?"
His mother—or rather, the original owner's mother—asked anxiously.
Yota felt impatient. This woman was still unfamiliar to him, despite her affection.
"I've got something important to do. Don't worry about it."
He took a step, misjudged his strength, and nearly collapsed before she caught him.
"I'm fine," he coughed awkwardly. "My legs are just a little weak."
A year-long coma would leave anyone barely able to stand, let alone sprint across rooftops.
Yota forced his stiff muscles to cooperate, leaning against the wall as he limped out of the house.
Gradually, with movement, his body adapted enough that he could walk almost normally.
Behind him, his mother hurried after him, panic rising with every step.
"Yota, where are you going?! You just woke up! You need rest!"
Yota's patience snapped.
"Old woman, didn't I tell you? I have something important to do! I'll be back tonight!"
The urgency of survival had burned away any leftover guilt he had for occupying her son's body.
He couldn't afford to be slowed down—not when the clan's extermination loomed overhead.
He needed to intercept Uchiha Fugaku—either on his way back from the Hokage Building or somewhere near the clan compound.
Even confronting him publicly was worth the risk now.
His mother stood helplessly as her son darted away, moving faster with each jump across the rooftops.
She had spent a year watching over him… and now feared he might collapse again.
Just then, a familiar figure came into view—her late husband's old comrade, now a respected jōnin of the clan.
She rushed toward him. "Kunihiko! Please—help me! It's Yota!"
Uchiha Kunihiko frowned slightly.
"Which way did he go?"
Years ago, when Yota's father was still alive, they had been close.
He had even carried little Yota as a baby.
He awakened his own three-tomoe Sharingan after witnessing his younger brother's death on a mission. For that, he had always felt indebted to the family left behind.
But time changes relationships; once he became a jōnin, obligations pulled him away.
Only recently had he heard that Yota had been in a coma for nearly a year.
"He went that way—onto the rooftops!"
"Don't worry," Kunihiko said, his expression firm. "Leave it to me. I'll bring him back safely."
A moment later, he disappeared with a swift shunshin, leaving only a gust of wind behind.
Yota's mother finally exhaled in relief.
With a jōnin watching over him, her son would be safe—no matter how recklessly he ran.
---
From the Uchiha compound, the Hokage Building loomed in the distance.
Yota had just leapt down from a rooftop, preparing to wait near the main entrance to ambush Fugaku, when—
A hand landed silently on his shoulder.
A chill shot through his spine.
His heart stopped.
For a split second, he thought the massacre had begun and Itachi had come for him.
But it was still broad daylight.
He spun around.
A middle-aged man with familiar features stood behind him—wearing a jōnin vest and an Uchiha crest.
Someone from the original Yota's memories… but not someone he knew well.
"Who are you?" Yota asked warily.
The man smiled warmly.
"Have you forgotten, Yota-kun? I'm Uncle Kunihiko. I used to hold you when you were a child."
Uchiha Kunihiko? No idea who that is.
Probably one of those background Uchiha destined to die on the night of the massacre…
Outwardly, he nodded.
"Oh… Uncle Kunihiko. Did you need something?"
Kunihiko caught the brief flash of disdain in Yota's eyes and felt a small sting—but ignored it.
"I came specifically for you. Come, let's go home. Your mother is worried sick."
Without waiting for permission, he grabbed Yota's arm and began pulling him away.
"W-wait! I told her I'd be back later!"
Yota struggled, but it was useless.
He wasn't even officially a genin—just an Academy graduate who never completed his promotion mission.
Against a full-fledged Uchiha jōnin with awakened Sharingan?
He was like a kitten being carried by the scruff.
Kunihiko's grip felt like a steel clamp. Yota couldn't budge an inch.
"We'll talk when we get back," Kunihiko said simply.
He didn't bother arguing with someone who had just woken up from a year-long coma.
The safest place for Yota right now was home.
Yota grit his teeth.
Damn old man…!
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