Chapter 18: The Uchiha Compound
Three years ago, the Nine-Tails' claws and flames had torn the heart of Konoha to shreds. Yet, beneath the devastation, the ruins had, unexpectedly, provided a convenience for the village's reconstruction.
The original Konoha was little more than a settlement established after the Senju and Uchiha clans had ended their blood feud. How could its founders have ever predicted it would swell into the massive village of tens of thousands it was today?
The compounds of the clans who joined later were scattered and interlocked, like stubborn bone spurs stuck deep in the village's muscle, hamstringing any centralized planning.
The catastrophe of the Nine-Tails Rampage, like a brutal form of surgery, had cleared away those obstructions, finally allowing Konoha to regrow according to a more logical blueprint.
Now, the village was rebuilt with the Hokage Tower as its absolute center. Residential and commercial districts were clearly divided. The clan compounds, once scattered, were all moved to the village's outer perimeter. And in this grand reshuffling, Konoha's first and greatest clan, the Uchiha, had been relocated to the most remote, isolated corner of the village.
The official reason was plausible enough: It was convenient for the Military Police Force to perform their duties and maintain public order from the perimeter.
Yet, every Konoha shinobi who lived through that night of blood had the image of the crimson, spinning Sharingan in the Nine-Tails' pupils burned into their memory.
It was iron-clad proof, silently declaring the Uchiha's connection to the disaster. Faced with this near-explicit banishment, the clan head, Uchiha Fugaku, could only grit his teeth and silently swallow the profound humiliation, despite his blazing anger.
A small figure was already waiting at the entrance to the Uchiha compound. Uchiha Itachi, dressed in the dark blue clan robes bearing the symbolic Uchiha fan, looked up with his calm, dark eyes as Shūji approached.
"Shūji-senpai." Itachi bowed slightly, his voice clear and even. "Father ordered me to wait here to guide you."
"Thank you, Itachi." Shūji nodded, his gaze resting on the boy. He could sense that Itachi's demeanor today was even more reserved than usual.
Now that his Special Jōnin status was official, Shūji was beginning to fulfill his duties as a squad leader.
Itachi's assignment to his squad was set. But to take an eight-year-old child into the dangers of B-Rank missions and beyond, it required, at a minimum, a formal meeting with his guardian—the head of the Uchiha clan.
Although he himself had been on the front lines at eleven... in the shinobi world's accepted view, eight and eleven were the dividing line between a child and a fully-fledged shinobi. The former belonged in the Academy; the latter could be sent into battle.
"Is this your first time in the Uchiha compound, Senpai?" Itachi asked, leading the way.
"Yes. I was on border duty for a long time, with few chances to return to the village," Shūji replied, following Itachi while subtly scanning his surroundings.
The Uchiha compound felt as if it were surrounded by an invisible wall.
After passing through the somewhat desolate entrance, the inside was another world. The streets were clean and orderly, lined with traditional-style houses.
Unlike the bustling commercial streets in Konoha's center, the shops here were small but well-stocked: general stores for ninja tools and daily goods, small eateries from which the smell of cooking rice wafted, and even an elegant-looking sweet shop, with dango and sushi displayed in the window.
There weren't many people, and most were Uchiha, dressed in their dark blue clan robes. They would nod to each other and speak in low tones, forming a tight-knit, self-sufficient community.
The air was thick with a sense of separation from the rest of Konoha, as if this were a miniature village operating independently within the larger one.
Shūji keenly sensed the gazes that occasionally landed on him. They held scrutiny, curiosity, and even... a trace of cold indifference. The civilian women and children looked mostly curious and a little uneasy, while the Uchiha shinobi who passed him made no effort to hide their wariness, their gazes as sharp as knives.
The moment he had stepped into the compound, Shūji's pace had faltered, almost imperceptibly.
It wasn't the gazes from within, but a more distant, more hidden sense of observation, locked firmly on the Uchiha compound's entrance.
"Nii-san! Nii-san!" A clear, childish, and joyful voice suddenly called from a side alley.
A small figure, about three years old and dressed in an adorable, tiny version of the clan robes, launched himself like a small cannonball, aiming straight for Itachi.
It was Uchiha Sasuke.
He completely ignored the stranger walking with his brother, his small body full of momentum. He crashed into Itachi's side, hugging his leg tightly, and tilted his head back, his large, dark eyes shining with pure joy and dependence. "Nii-san! Play shuriken with me! Right now!"
On Itachi's face, which always held a calm beyond his years, the ice melted instantly. An incredible tenderness filled his eyes. He bent down slightly, gently ruffling Sasuke's soft, dark hair, his voice just as soft. "Sasuke, I have to take Senpai to see Father right now. I'll play with you later, okay?"
Sasuke's lower lip immediately stuck out, his small face a mask of disappointment, his big eyes shimmering. But he obediently nodded and reluctantly let go, his gaze darting curiously to Shūji before he ran back into the alley, looking back every few steps.
Fugaku's figure had appeared at the genkan of the main house. He stood watching the scene, his face expressionless, but his deep gaze... after Sasuke ran off, it landed on Shūji, holding a trace of unreadable complexity.
Itachi straightened up, his face back to its usual calm, and nodded for Shūji to follow.
They quickly arrived at the impressive estate. Itachi stopped at the entrance, stepping aside respectfully. "Senpai, Father is waiting for you inside."
Fugaku's gaze was already fixed on Shūji.
Shūji nodded his thanks, slipped off his sandals, and stepped up into the entryway. Itachi remained standing silently in the shadow of the outer hall.
Uchiha Fugaku stood in the inner hall. His posture was as straight as a pine, his face a mask of calm. Dressed in dark clan robes, his gaze fell on Shūji, heavy with a natural, authoritative scrutiny.
"Shūji-jōnin." Fugaku's voice was deep and steady, betraying no emotion, simply acknowledging his identity. "I have long heard of your valorous service on the border. And now, your recent promotion to Special Jōnin. A formidable new generation."
"Fugaku-sama, you flatter me. I was only doing my duty," Shūji replied with a slight bow, his tone polite but not subservient.
Fugaku gestured for him to enter.
The two walked into the reception room and knelt in seiza on the tatami, facing each other. Itachi's mother, Uchiha Mikoto, served them tea before departing, leaving the room filled only with the faint aroma of the tea and a tense, unspoken atmosphere.
Fugaku did not, as Shūji expected, immediately speak of the risks of Itachi's missions or make any special requests. He lifted his teacup, his tone casual. "I have heard that you live in the... old estate... in the western suburbs? And that you were raised personally by Tōka-sama?"
"Yes. I have been in Bā-chan's care," Shūji replied calmly, lifting his own cup.
Fugaku set his cup down with a soft click. "I've also heard your ninjutsu is outstanding, with a mastery of all five transformations. The trials of the border truly forge a shinobi."
"I was forced by my environment. I had no choice but to practice."
Fugaku nodded slightly, not pressing the subject. He changed his tone, his gaze shifting to the garden outside the paper screen. "Shūji-kun, you've just walked through our compound. What are your impressions?"
Shūji's mind raced, and he chose his words carefully. "It's peaceful. Your people are secure, and everything needed for daily life is here. It's clear... the clan is very self-sufficient."
"'Self-sufficient'..." Fugaku repeated the words, a faint, unreadable smile playing on his lips. His gaze remained on the garden, his voice lowering. "Yes, a world of our own. It's quiet. But... being so far from the village center, we've lost the hustle and bustle. And, inevitably, we've lost the interactions that come with it."
He paused, as if it were a passing thought, before his gaze returned to Shūji, his tone once again that of the steady clan head. "I will be relying on you for Itachi's missions from now on, Shūji-jōnin. His talent is acceptable, but his experience is thin. He will require your guidance."
"It is my duty. You have my word, Fugaku-sama."
Fugaku gave Shūji a deep look, as if some other, deeper calculation flashed behind his eyes, too quick to catch.
He said nothing more and stood. "Itachi, see Shūji-kun out."
Shūji stood and took his leave. Fugaku saw him only to the genkan.
As he walked out the main gate of the Uchiha estate, the afternoon sun was bright. Itachi was waiting silently. He saw Shūji emerge and began to lead the way back down the street, walking just to the side and ahead. Shūji could clearly feel Fugaku's gaze on his back, heavy and tangible, not leaving him until he had turned the street corner.
The air in the compound still held that quiet, self-sufficient, and separate feeling. The scent of dango from the sweet shop drifted faintly on the breeze.
Itachi's pace was steady, but Shūji could sense a subtle aura of confusion from the boy.
Senpai has... some other status. Father was paying special attention to him. Itachi thought, but he did not ask the question.