Inside the office, Uchiha Yoru noticed the hesitation on Shisui's face at once. He knew exactly what the other man was thinking.
He chose not to address it.
Some thoughts needed to be carried in silence. Only then would they leave scars deep enough to be remembered.
"The Seventh Division needs to be fully operational within a week," Yoru said calmly. "I'll be relying on you for that."
Shisui immediately straightened, pushing his doubts aside.
"You can count on me," he replied. "The Seventh Division will be ready on schedule."
Yoru studied him for a moment longer than necessary, then lowered his gaze, masking whatever emotion lingered behind his eyes.
"The Seventh Division doesn't just represent the Uchiha," Yoru said. "It's also Orochimaru-sensei's point of contact with the other clans. Our approach has to change."
This division was no longer simple law enforcement.
It was a condensed version of Orochimaru's political network. Once it stabilized, every major clan in Konoha would be watching it closely.
Shisui frowned slightly. "You mean…?"
"In matters of security," Yoru said quietly, "the Seventh Division will prioritize shinobi over civilians. And among shinobi, clan members come first."
Shisui's expression changed instantly.
Yoru closed his eyes, his face drawn with visible exhaustion, as though he had just made a decision that weighed heavily on him.
The meaning was unmistakable.
When conflicts arose, clan shinobi would be treated leniently. Independent shinobi would be handled by the book. When civilians clashed with shinobi, the division would side with the shinobi.
It was an unspoken hierarchy.
A political signal.
"Yoru," Shisui said sharply, "we're not at war. This will cause backlash."
Such policies were only tolerated during wartime, when frontline shinobi returned tense and unstable. But the Third Shinobi War was over. The Military Police had been ordered to restore civilian trust, not erode it further.
Yoru opened his eyes.
"They've already made their move," he said, voice hoarse but firm. "Orochimaru has been sidelined. The Fifth Hokage hasn't been chosen. If we don't act, he'll lose support across the clans."
Favoring shinobi, especially major clans, was unfair to civilians.
But it worked.
Power was seductive. Shinobi who felt protected would naturally gravitate toward the one providing that protection.
"Orochimaru may be out of the spotlight," Yoru continued, "but his voice cannot disappear. If it does, the Fifth Hokage position becomes uncontrollable."
One man couldn't represent Orochimaru.
But a division filled with his supporters could.
Shisui exhaled slowly, the fight draining from him.
"…I understand," he said at last. "This isn't easy. You're carrying a lot."
To Shisui, Yoru looked like someone pushed forward by the clan. The position was powerful, but dangerously exposed. One wrong step, and he would be crushed between factions.
"Go," Yoru said quietly. "Some people have to work in the dark. You're meant to stand in the light."
Shisui nodded, guilt weighing heavily on him.
"I'll handle the preparations," he said. "You should rest."
When the door closed behind him, sunlight streamed into the room.
Yoru remained seated.
Then he opened his eyes.
The exhaustion vanished.
He lifted his teacup and gazed out through the glass at the busy compound below. Shinobi moved like scattered shadows, small and restless.
His lips curved upward.
"So this is authority," he murmured. "No matter the world… it never changes."
Shinobi wielded power, but most were nothing more than tools. Weapons held by those who made decisions.
"And now," Yoru said softly, "I hold weapons too."
He glanced at the jōnin appointment document on his desk, a faint trace of mockery in his smile.
To them, he was manageable. Convenient. Someone placed where he could be used.
They thought the position was a trap.
They weren't wrong.
But Yoru accepted it anyway.
Because unlike them, he knew what was coming. And because he was confident that, soon enough, his strength would match the authority he had been given.