Natsuhiko's words could easily be interpreted as blatant opportunism—raising the price while standing firmly in place. Yet Uchiha Shin found himself with no grounds to refute him. In truth, he had already anticipated something like this.
It was almost absurd, when one thought about it: to be threatened and bargained with by a boy barely thirteen or fourteen years old. And yet, after the lesson of their previous encounter, Shin no longer dared to measure this young man by ordinary standards. Natsuhiko was not someone who could be understood through common sense.
So instead, Shin forced himself to think carefully. What, exactly, did this boy want?
To hand over an ANBU slot so casually… that alone spoke volumes. It meant Natsuhiko had already consulted those above him; in other words, the matter had the Hokage's tacit approval. That realization alone filled Shin with a quiet satisfaction. Establishing this connection meant opening a channel between his clan and Konoha—a fragile one, perhaps, but a channel nonetheless.
Even if its influence was limited at first, he understood the principle well enough: those without power spoke softly, and were rarely heard. But time had a way of shifting such balances. Given patience, this tenuous bridge might one day become something far more substantial.
With that in mind, he chose not to dwell on Natsuhiko's opportunism. Everything had a price. That was a truth he both understood and accepted.
Suppressing the faint excitement rising within him, Shin lowered his voice. "What is it that Captain Natsuhiko desires? So long as it lies within my capabilities, I will do my utmost to satisfy your request."
But to his surprise, Natsuhiko merely shook his head.
"Let's not discuss that just yet."
He lifted his teacup and took a slow, unhurried sip, as though he had come here for nothing more than a quiet moment of leisure. Of course, Shin did not dare take it at face value. He remained seated, composed and attentive, waiting.
When the cup was nearly empty, Natsuhiko cast a brief glance toward the boy standing beside them—Shisui—who immediately stepped forward to refill it. The gesture drew a faint smile from Natsuhiko. The future wielder of Kotoamatsukami, pouring tea for him… it was, in its own way, a rather curious experience.
He tapped his fingers lightly against the table. Once, twice.
Then he spoke again, his tone as measured as ever.
"Before we discuss terms, there's something I'd like to ask you."
"Please," Shin replied at once. "So long as it isn't a matter of strict secrecy, I will answer honestly."
Natsuhiko's smile deepened slightly. "Rather than answering me… think of it as answering the Hokage."
The words hung in the air, quiet but heavy.
"The Hokage places a great deal of trust in your clan," he continued softly. "And in the future, that trust may deepen further. But trust, as you know, is never given freely—it demands something in return. So tell me… how do you intend to respond?"
He paused deliberately, watching as Shin parted his lips to speak, only to raise a single finger and gently shake it.
"No need to rush," he said. "We've heard quite a bit about your clan's internal situation. Two factions, locked in conflict—one aligned with you, the other advocating a far more… forceful approach.
"They believe Konoha should be compelled to yield, don't they? And if necessary…" His voice softened further, almost conversational. "A coup is not entirely off the table."
The words were delivered with a calm, almost soothing cadence, his expression as warm as ever.
And yet, in that instant, Uchiha Shin felt his body stiffen, a chill creeping down his spine as his composure faltered ever so slightly.
Even though Natsuhiko had not stated it outright, Uchiha Shin was no fool.
Just how far had Konoha's reach extended? Had they truly investigated his clan so thoroughly that nothing remained hidden?
Yet that was not the most troubling part. What unsettled him most was that he had begun to grasp Konoha's intentions.
The reason they had granted him this single ANBU slot… was to push him into fiercer conflict with the so-called hawks within his clan.
What did "trust" mean?
What did it mean to be "trusted even more"?
It meant that this was only the beginning. More would follow—more resources, more authority—until he possessed enough strength and confidence to oppose the hardliners outright.
It was, quite plainly, a scheme to drive them into tearing each other apart.
And the bitter irony was that this opportunity was one he himself had sought. He had never imagined Konoha would be so ruthlessly precise in its calculations.
Watching the subtle shifts in Shin's expression, Natsuhiko immediately understood: the man had already seen through part of the design. He had been careful—deliberate in every word—but even so, the truth had begun to surface. Age, it seemed, did indeed bring a sharper edge to one's instincts.
"It appears," Natsuhiko said with a faint chuckle, his gaze drifting briefly toward Uchiha Shisui before returning, "that you've already guessed some of our intentions."
"You're ruthless… truly ruthless…" Shin's face flushed slightly, a mix of anger and unease rising within him. For a fleeting moment, he wanted nothing more than to stand and walk away.
But he couldn't. And he didn't dare.
This path was one he had chosen for himself. Having come this far, he had no choice but to endure and press forward. If he withdrew now, his standing within the clan would collapse entirely; in a sense, he had already strayed too far from his original position, and those who followed him would fall alongside him.
Worse still, if he revealed this matter to the clan, emotions would ignite—and once that happened, they might find themselves standing in open opposition to the entirety of Konoha.
And yet, as the thought settled, something shifted in his mind. A realization surfaced, and with it, a fragile calm. His gaze sharpened as he looked directly at Natsuhiko.
"Captain Natsuhiko," he said slowly, "by revealing this to me, have you considered Konoha's position? I doubt this is something the village intended for you to say."
"Of course not."
Natsuhiko answered without hesitation, nodding lightly as he lifted his teacup for another measured sip. Only after setting it down did he continue, his voice low and unhurried.
"Konoha would prefer that you tear into one another—like dogs locked in a fight. The fiercer the struggle, the better it serves the village. After all, the Second Hokage has always regarded your clan as… unstable."
He paused, letting the words linger before continuing.
"As for the idea that you might spread what I've said—stir suspicion among the other clans, perhaps even disrupt the balance within the village…" A faint smile touched his lips. "I'm afraid you're overestimating the outcome."
"Yes, it might cause some damage. But that damage would weaken the village as a whole, opening the door for other nations to take advantage. And tell me—under the current Fourth Hokage, if such a scandal were to erupt, how likely is it that he would be forced to resign?"
Natsuhiko's gaze sharpened, his tone still gentle, but edged now with something colder.
"And when that happens… who do you think will take his place?"
He leaned back slightly, the faint smile never leaving his face.
"Have you truly considered that? Because when that man returns to power…"
His voice softened, almost to a whisper.
"I imagine neither you nor your clan would find life in Konoha particularly… pleasant."
At that point, Natsuhiko said no more. In the past, he had not dared to act against the Uchiha—not because he lacked the will, but because he lacked both certainty and strength.
Now, though his confidence was still far from absolute, something fundamental had changed: he possessed power.
And with power came possibility. Certain plans could finally be set into motion; certain matters, long deferred, could at last be addressed. Just as he had begun to reshape the Senju, the Uchiha too could no longer be left untouched.
Across from him, Uchiha Shin sat in silence, his thoughts churning. He tried to discern the deeper meaning behind Natsuhiko's words, to grasp what the young man truly intended. This conversation had already strayed far beyond anything he had anticipated, and he knew he needed to steady himself, to untangle the threads one by one.
Only after a long while did he finally speak, his voice hoarse, as though dragged from the depths of his chest. "Then… what do you think we should do?"
"Me?" Natsuhiko gave a faint, almost imperceptible nod to himself. The old man was quick—quicker than most. "My advice is simple: take whatever is offered to you. And when the time comes, don't hesitate to cut through the knot with a single stroke."
"You—!"
This time, Shin's restraint snapped. He shot to his feet, anger flashing in his eyes as he glared at Natsuhiko. "If that is your advice, Captain Natsuhiko, then I can only say… I will give it due consideration."
Consideration—which, in truth, meant he would most likely do no such thing.
Natsuhiko understood that well enough. The old man still intended to proceed in his own cautious, incremental way. But such methods… were doomed to fail. If they had ever been effective, the so-called doves would not have been so completely overshadowed by the hawks in the years to come.
And besides, Natsuhiko felt he had already said enough. However much he might regard Shin's faction as wavering opportunists, they were not all like Uchiha Itachi. To turn their blades upon their own kin… most of them simply could not bring themselves to do it.
In that regard, Natsuhiko could not help but feel a certain grim admiration. To slaughter one's entire clan without hesitation—that was a kind of ruthlessness beyond ordinary comprehension, something that defied even the harshest standards of his previous life.
"There's no need to be so agitated," Natsuhiko said calmly, remaining seated as he regarded Shin's anger with an unchanging, almost gentle expression.
"A suggestion is only a suggestion. It need not be accepted. And I never said I had only one to offer… did I?"
"Oh?" Shin arched a brow, the edge in his anger softening as he slowly sat back down. "Then perhaps Captain Natsuhiko has a more… suitable proposal?"
"I can see that you care deeply for the stability of the Uchiha," Natsuhiko replied, lightly swirling the tea in his cup, his voice soft but perfectly clear. "And equally, you value the harmony of the village. A man like you is… worthy of respect."
He paused briefly, letting the words settle, and Shin inclined his head, listening intently. He understood now—what followed would not be Konoha's stance, but Natsuhiko's own.
"Please," Shin said quietly. "I am listening."
Natsuhiko's gaze lingered on him for a moment before he spoke again, almost idly:
"It's quite simple. Have you never considered… another possibility?"
Natsuhiko set his teacup down and let out a soft, measured sigh.
"Within the Uchiha clan, there have always been two voices," he began calmly. "Two factions, endlessly allowed to argue, to clash, to pull against one another without restraint. And yet, for all that noise, the clan has never truly known harmony… nor stability. Have you never wondered why?"
His gaze lingered on Uchiha Shin, sharp beneath its gentle veneer.
"Of course," he continued, almost thoughtfully, "I imagine you have. You likely see it as the proper conduct of a clan head—remaining impartial, weighing both sides, choosing according to reason and circumstance. Isn't that right?"
A faint smile touched his lips, though there was no warmth in it.
"But the problem is, such an approach is far from beneficial. The fiercer your internal disputes become, the more stable his authority over the clan truly is."
Only then did Natsuhiko truly study Shin's expression. The old man's breathing had grown uneven, a subtle but telling reaction that did not escape him. It was almost amusing—he had clearly not expected the blade of this conversation to turn toward Uchiha Fugaku.
Yes… this was the moment to bare his fangs.
What was the greatest form of favor one could offer?
What was the most effective means of control?
To show someone a path they had never imagined—and to give them the chance to walk it, even to grasp it with their own hands. That was the deepest kind of leverage. For the moment they stepped onto that path, everything they were would fall within one's grasp.
Watching as Shin gradually regained his composure, Natsuhiko continued, his tone as steady as ever.
"In a more stable environment, such disputes might even be beneficial. Competition sharpens judgment; it allows a leader to discern which path holds the greatest merit. But your current situation…" He let the thought trail off, as though the conclusion required no elaboration. "You wouldn't be sitting here with me if things were so simple."
"If this conflict continues unchecked, it will do nothing but erode the unity of your clan—until division turns to hostility, and hostility to irreparable fracture."
He paused briefly, his eyes lowering to the surface of the tea.
"I don't know what your clan head truly intends—whether he is genuinely impartial, or merely indecisive, unable to choose a direction. But that is your clan's affair. It is something only you can resolve."
His fingers lightly tapped the table.
"My suggestion is simple: if there is a way… why not seek the greatest benefit at the smallest cost?"
With that, Natsuhiko drained the last of his tea in a single motion. Rising to his feet, he raised a hand to stop Uchiha Shisui from refilling his cup, then gave the table a light knock.
"That's all I have to say." He turned to Shin with a faint, courteous smile. "Let us end our discussion here. If you find merit in my words, then perhaps you might consider acting upon them. If not… treat them as nothing more than idle talk."
Without waiting for a reply, he turned and left the teahouse.
The seed had been planted. All that remained was to wait for it to take root and grow. As for how far it would flourish… that would depend entirely on the measure of the man who carried it.
This was merely Natsuhiko's first move against the Uchiha. And he found himself quietly anticipating what might follow.
As he walked, Natsuhiko suddenly stopped and ducked into a shadowed corner. An ANBU appeared instantly, bowing low.
"Division Commander."
Natsuhiko regarded him calmly. "What is it?"
"The Commander has issued a mission—one that requires your direct handling."
"I see." He nodded faintly, then added, almost as an afterthought, "And the information I asked you to investigate?"
"It has been obtained, Division Commander."
A faint glimmer passed through Natsuhiko's eyes, though his expression remained as composed as ever.
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