Uchiha Shin sat alone in his room, his expression stern, yet his eyes unfocused, as though his thoughts had drifted far beyond the walls around him. There was a vacancy in his gaze, the unmistakable sign of a mind caught in restless turmoil.
It had been some time since he parted ways with Natsuhiko, yet the seed planted in his heart that day had not faded in the slightest. On the contrary, it had taken root, growing ever stronger with each passing moment.
Clan head.
That had been the bait Natsuhiko offered him—a proposition wrapped in quiet inevitability. He had urged Shin to push aside Fugaku Uchiha and claim the position for himself.
It was temptation in its purest form—one Shin found nearly impossible to resist.
He longed to see the Uchiha clan restored, to witness it rise once more to the glory it had once possessed. More than that, he yearned for reconciliation—for the clan and the village to stand together again, not as rivals, but as allies.
Yet, as Natsuhiko had pointed out, so long as Fugaku remained in power, such a future was unlikely. His leadership wavered, bending toward whichever force held greater influence, leaving the clan unable to commit to a clear and decisive path.
And so, inevitably, Shin found himself asking—
What if it were me?
What if I were the one guiding the Uchiha?
The allure of that possibility was overwhelming, so much so that it robbed him of sleep, gnawing at his thoughts day and night.
But temptation never came without cost.
If he truly acted on it, the consequences could be catastrophic. The Uchiha clan might very well tear itself apart.
And beneath that alluring promise lay something far more insidious—a threat.
Shin did not know who stood behind Natsuhiko, but he knew this much: for him to speak so boldly, he must possess both power and backing. Someone like that did not make empty claims.
More troubling still, the disaster he implied would not even require Natsuhiko's direct involvement.
All it would take was a subtle push from the village, and the Uchiha would descend into internal strife—violent, bloody conflict between their own.
The paths before him were few, and none were without ruin. Whatever choice he made, it seemed the fate of the entire clan would hang in the balance.
"Grandfather?" As Shin stared blankly into space, Uchiha Sora's voice pulled him back to reality.
"Ah… Sora." Shin quickly composed himself, offering his granddaughter a smile. "You're back early."
"I finished my training for the day," she replied with a small nod, though her eyes lingered on him with quiet concern. "Grandfather… you haven't seemed able to focus lately. Is something troubling you?"
"The clan's affairs… and…" He hesitated, the words catching in his throat before he shifted them into something safer. "Some matters concerning Shisui Uchiha. I need to think them through carefully."
It wasn't a lie. The situation did concern the entire clan, and Shisui was indeed deeply entangled in it.
But the truth—the conversation he had with Natsuhiko—was something he would not share with anyone, not even his own granddaughter.
Shisui had been present that day, listening in silence, but Shin doubted the boy truly grasped the weight of what had been said. Even so, Shin had warned him afterward, making it clear that the matter must never leave his lips. It was a precaution he could not afford to neglect.
"I see… that must be difficult," Sora said softly, choosing not to press further. Instead, she sat down nearby, studying him with quiet curiosity.
"By the way, Grandfather," she added after a moment, "you asked about Natsuhiko before… do you need him for something?"
"Natsuhiko, that boy—"
At the mention of the name, Shin's body stiffened almost imperceptibly, and before he could stop himself, the words slipped out.
Fortunately, Shin's reaction was swift. Realizing his slip, he recovered almost instantly and forced a more natural tone into his voice.
"Natsuhiko, you mean? He's a talented young man—and your classmate, too. He even helped you when you were little. It's only natural I'd take an interest in him."
At that, Uchiha Sora frowned slightly. She did not recall ever telling her grandfather about that incident—so how did he know? Had he investigated it recently?
And more than that… why had he reacted so strangely at the mere mention of Natsuhiko's name?
The more she thought about it, the more peculiar it all seemed. It had also been quite some time since she had last seen Natsuhiko, and she had no idea what he had been doing lately. There was something about him—something distant, elusive, almost excessively mysterious.
"Grandfather," she asked again, unable to suppress her curiosity, "do you know what Natsuhiko has been up to recently? I haven't seen him in a long time."
"…That…" Shin's lips twitched faintly before he shook his head. "I'm not sure either. He's probably busy with missions."
That much, at least, was true.
Natsuhiko belonged to the ANBU—and not merely as an ordinary member. The ANBU were among the most secretive forces in the village; their assignments were never disclosed to regular shinobi. And for the Uchiha, such information was even further out of reach.
Shin looked at his granddaughter in silence, a faint, complicated smile tugging at his lips. He had always avoided speaking that name aloud, yet here she was, bringing it up so naturally. It left him both amused and faintly exasperated.
Still, he could tell—his granddaughter held Natsuhiko in high regard.
And as for that young man… though he had said little at the time, Shin had sensed it clearly: Natsuhiko had no intention of giving him much time to deliberate.
In that case, perhaps it was time to decide.
Dragging things out any longer would only make matters worse. If a choice had to be made, then better sooner than later.
The seed planted deep within my heart… I can no longer stop it from sprouting, Shin thought, drawing a slow breath.
All I can do now is watch it grow—and follow where it leads.
He had already made up his mind.
There was no denying it—he was a man with ambition.
Though the years and circumstances had dulled it, worn it down piece by piece, the moment a path appeared—one that could both rekindle that ambition and realize his long-held dreams—he found himself unable to resist.
"Then… I should meet Captain Natsuhiko," he murmured inwardly. "And speak with him properly."
—
"Heading home for lunch, Captain?"
As noon arrived, Natsuhiko strolled out from the Third Division, idly tilting his head as he walked—only to run into Pakura along the way.
"Yes," he replied with a faint smile, nodding. "I'm heading back. Want to join me?"
"I'm afraid I don't have the time," she said, shaking her head without hesitation. "I still have training to complete. I'll just eat at the cafeteria. By the way, Captain—when can we start going on missions?"
"When your training is up to standard," Natsuhiko answered casually, giving a small wave as he continued on his way.
Others might have been deployed sooner, but Pakura's situation was different. She would need a little more time.
Though perhaps not too long.
After all… Danzō Shimura was currently in trouble.
As a division commander within the ANBU, Natsuhiko was well aware of the situation. During a recent meeting with Hiruzen Sarutobi and Minato Namikaze, Danzō had performed rather poorly—so much so that it had cost him dearly.
Afterward, he had a private conversation with Hiruzen, one conducted in complete secrecy, with no one else present.
Rumor had it that when Danzō emerged, his expression was unusually grim.
And not long after, a series of new regulations were quietly introduced within the ANBU.
The new directive was simple, yet its implications were unmistakable: all personnel movements within the ANBU would henceforth be free from external interference—the ANBU would answer only to the Hokage.
That single order spoke volumes.
It meant that Danzō Shimura could no longer rely on his influence to manipulate the inner workings of the ANBU as he once had.
"Such a pity," Natsuhiko mused inwardly. "Either this is all the information I'm allowed to access… or this is all there is. But judging from how grim Danzō looked, there must be more to it than this."
A man's expression could reveal more than words ever would. Though Natsuhiko had not seen Danzō himself, the accounts from those within the ANBU painted a clear enough picture—this regulation was unlikely to be the full extent of his punishment.
There were probably harsher measures, ones not meant for public knowledge, reserved only for the highest levels of authority. And while Natsuhiko had risen far, he was still not quite among those who stood at the very top.
"Still… this is enough for now."
Stepping out from the Third Division's headquarters, he made his way toward home.
"For now, the position of ANBU commander is out of reach," he reflected calmly, "but I'm no ordinary operative anymore. Not everyone can come and go as they please."
A division commander had privileges—small, perhaps, but meaningful. At midday, he could manage his own time. Ordinary members, by contrast, were bound tightly to their duties, unable to leave the compound at will, let alone return home for a meal.
But Natsuhiko could.
His freedom, at least in this regard, was considerable.
As he walked, he became aware of a gaze lingering on him. When he turned his head, he found members of the Konoha Police Force watching him from a short distance.
The police force was, in theory, a major institution—but over time, it had effectively become the domain of the Uchiha clan. Nearly every member bore the Uchiha name; outsiders were few and far between.
And the one watching him now was clearly one of them.
Natsuhiko found it faintly amusing. Could it be that the Uchiha intended to pick a fight with him? He wasn't wearing his ANBU mask, nor his uniform—but as far as he knew, he hadn't done anything worth being detained over.
"You are…" One of the Uchiha stepped forward, studying him closely before asking, "Fukami Natsuhiko, correct?"
"That's me," Natsuhiko replied with an easy nod, his lips curving into a gentle smile—an expression that had long since become second nature. "May I ask what this is about?"
"Our elder wishes to meet you," the Uchiha said evenly. For once, there was no trace of the usual arrogance. Yet beneath that composure, a flicker of curiosity lingered in his eyes. He could not understand why their elder had taken such an interest in this man—nor why he had repeatedly warned them to remain respectful, no matter what.
At those words, Natsuhiko immediately understood.
His smile deepened, a quiet satisfaction stirring beneath the surface.
So, Uchiha Shin had made his decision.
That was good news. Natsuhiko had already begun considering alternatives—if Shin had failed to give him a satisfactory answer, he would have had no choice but to find someone else.
Or, if necessary… to watch the clan destroy itself.
"I see," Natsuhiko said lightly. "And where might your elder be?"
"He said he'd be waiting at the usual place," the Uchiha replied, clearly displeased with Natsuhiko's tone, though he kept his composure.
Natsuhiko gave a small nod, offered a brief word of thanks, and turned to leave.
The "usual place" needed no explanation—it was that teahouse. They had met there twice before; this third meeting would be no different.
And this time…
It seemed his division would be gaining a new member.
As he walked away, another Uchiha approached, frowning as he spoke in a low voice.
"Who exactly is that guy? Why is the elder so interested in him—and why did he insist we treat him with such respect?"
"I wouldn't know," the Uchiha ninja grumbled, letting out a dissatisfied snort. "But that kid… he's arrogant enough to make me want to punch him. I don't know why that smile of his irritates me so much."
"Forget it. Let's focus on our mission," another Uchiha said, shaking his head. He cast a glance at the distance, then continued more slowly, "Who knows what the elder is thinking? In any case, it's none of our concern."
"True… but still, to have us show such respect to someone like him," the first ninja muttered, letting out a cold huff and shaking his head. He didn't want to say more, but his dissatisfaction was clear. The order from the elder left him powerless, unable to act on his irritation.
Soon, the two turned and walked away, unaware that after their departure, several masked ANBU silently appeared where they had been standing.
The ANBU's gaze followed the Uchiha's retreating figures, ensuring they would cause no mischief, and only then did the operatives melt quietly back into the shadows.
...
"I wonder what you intend by meeting me this time."
Seated across from Uchiha Shin, Natsuhiko allowed a faint smile to curve across his lips as he regarded the elderly man before him.
And when his gaze shifted, catching sight of Uchiha Shisui standing quietly at the elder's side once more, that smile deepened—subtle, almost imperceptible. The pieces were moving, just as he had envisioned.
Still, he remained cautious. He would not be the one to speak first. If there was to be an answer, it had to come from Shin himself.
"Natsuhiko," Shin began, his eyes studying the young man's calm, measured face, "I only requested this meeting because it was necessary. I believe… you already have some inkling of why, don't you?"
"I know a little," Natsuhiko replied gently, shaking his head, "but I'm not entirely certain. That's why I hope you can clarify things further."
He lifted the teacup in his hands, sipping quietly, offering no more prompting. His gaze held steady, observing every subtle flicker across Shin's expression.
Shin, for his part, seemed to understand perfectly. A faint sigh escaped him, betraying the weight of his decision, even as he concealed any obvious hesitation. This boy left no gaps, no weaknesses.
Yet Shin had already made up his mind. By coming here and bringing Shisui along, he had set the course in motion, and nothing would stop him from continuing.
The moment he saw Natsuhiko, Shin felt the seed of ambition within him—long dormant, carefully restrained—begin to erupt. The boy before him was like a demon, stoking desires that Shin had tried to suppress.
The position of clan head. Control over the Uchiha. The possibility of bringing the clan back into alignment with the village—
These thoughts spread through his mind like wildfire, impossible to suppress.
Back then, they had refused to follow Uchiha Madara when he chose to leave. Was it not because they wished for the Uchiha to remain, to live peacefully within the village and share in the stability it offered?
And yet now, everything was changing.
The Uchiha were becoming increasingly isolated, increasingly feared—walking a path that grew darker by the day.
If he did nothing…
Then what had been the point of not leaving with Madara all those years ago?
If the current clan head is incapable… then replace him with one who is.
The voice within Uchiha Shin grew louder and steadier, no longer a fleeting whisper but a conviction taking shape. The seed planted deep in his heart seemed to sense his resolve, swelling with life, its roots tightening and its branches stretching ever higher.
He looked at Natsuhiko in silence for a long moment, and then—paradoxically—calm settled over him. The turmoil that had once clouded his thoughts receded, leaving behind clarity. He had already convinced himself. The path forward, once obscured, now lay stark and undeniable before him.
"I want Shisui to receive that ANBU position," Shin said at last, his voice composed, almost unnervingly so. "And in return, I am willing to accept guidance… and advice… from Captain Natsuhiko."
"Is that so?" Natsuhiko's lips curved into a faint, knowing smile as he studied the elder for a long while before speaking again. "Is that all?"
Shin drew in a slow breath, as though gathering every ounce of determination within him. When he spoke again, his tone carried a weight that could not be mistaken.
"I will demonstrate, through both my sincerity and my actions, that the Uchiha are Konoha's Uchiha—that there will be no distinction between the clan and the village."
"That," Natsuhiko replied with a slight nod, "is an answer I very much like. Congratulations—you've made the right choice. An exceptionally right choice."
And he meant it.
With those words, the foundation had been laid. From here, many things could be set into motion.
Of course, Natsuhiko understood perfectly well that the Uchiha's gesture of allegiance was not directed at him personally, but at the Hokage who stood behind him. And as for which Hokage that might be—Shin likely already had someone in mind: Minato Namikaze.
It was only natural. Minato was young, capable, and—perhaps most importantly—harbored no apparent prejudice against the Uchiha. As long as he remained in power, there was a genuine chance for the clan to reintegrate into the village.
Yet within Natsuhiko's plans, that hope was destined to falter.
Even so, the lingering influence Minato left behind would at least shield the Uchiha from the worst of the storm. And Natsuhiko himself had no intention of abandoning them. Some matters, he would inevitably involve himself in—just as Shin had acknowledged. If Shin wished to ascend to the position of clan head, then accepting guidance was not merely a gesture; it was a necessity.
Especially when that guidance came from Natsuhiko.
Especially when it served to pave the road for both of their futures.
"Then I entrust Shisui to you, Captain Natsuhiko," Shin said, rising to his feet with solemn resolve, prepared to take his leave.
"There's no need to rush off," Natsuhiko interjected calmly, lifting his teacup for another measured sip. "If you have no urgent matters, I'd like to continue our conversation."
Shin paused, momentarily caught off guard. After a brief moment of consideration, he sat back down, curiosity flickering in his eyes. He could not help but wonder what else Natsuhiko intended to discuss.
"Tell me," Natsuhiko said softly, his gaze steady, a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips, "what is your vision for the Uchiha's future? Not merely an idea—but a clear objective, a guiding framework. Without that, nothing can truly be accomplished."
Shin considered those words carefully, turning them over in his mind before nodding with quiet seriousness.
"I understand, Captain Natsuhiko. Then… what guidance would you offer?"
A clear framework. A defined objective.
Until now, Shin realized, he had possessed only a goal—vague, unshaped, lacking the structure needed to bring it into reality. Worse still, he had no concrete plan to achieve it. Just as Natsuhiko had said, it was nothing more than an idea drifting without anchor.
And if that remained the case, then failure was all but inevitable.
Which only deepened his curiosity.
The seed Natsuhiko had planted within him had already taken root and begun to grow—so what, then, did this young man intend? Into what kind of towering tree did he plan to shape it?
"It's simple," Natsuhiko said, meeting his gaze with quiet intensity. "What is your goal? Think carefully. Answer sincerely. It will benefit us both."
"My goal…" Uchiha Shin frowned as he looked at Natsuhiko, the words catching in his throat before he finally let out a long, weary sigh. Then, gritting his teeth as though forcing himself past the last of his hesitation, he spoke with grim resolve. "Naturally, it is to overthrow the current clan head, become the next leader, and guide the Uchiha back into alignment with Konoha."
"In other words," Natsuhiko said, tapping his fingers lightly against the table, "your goal is to secure the future of the Uchiha by reintegrating them into the village. Everything else—overthrowing the clan head, getting your hands dirty, even being branded as someone who tarnishes Uchiha honor—is merely part of the process."
Shin froze for a moment, caught off guard, before slowly nodding.
Yet almost immediately, a strange expression crossed his face. At first, he had assumed Natsuhiko was forcing him to confront his own ambitions—to drag into the open the truth he had long been unwilling to voice, yet knew he must act upon.
But now… it seemed that wasn't the case at all.
This young man wasn't cornering him—he was helping him.
Helping him define a goal. A simple, resolute goal—one that carried the weight of idealism while quietly veiling the bloodshed required to achieve it.
It did not change the reality, of course. Shin knew well enough that such phrasing merely emphasized the outcome while softening the brutality of the path. And yet, even so, it eased the burden on his conscience in a way he could not deny.
"Yes," Shin said firmly, his voice steady once more. "That is my goal. For the future of the Uchiha, I will ensure they return to Konoha—to stand as one with the village again."
"And your plan?" Natsuhiko asked with a faint smile. "Your guiding framework? How do you intend to accomplish all this—specifically?"
Now that the conversation had been laid bare, Shin no longer hesitated.
"If I am to overthrow Uchiha Fugaku, then bloodshed is inevitable," he said, his tone resolute, though a fierce edge crept into his expression. "There are those who must be dealt with, and I will remove them. At the same time, I will consolidate those within the clan who are willing to follow me."
He spoke with conviction, his emotions raw and unfiltered.
Yet Natsuhiko only shook his head lightly.
That simple gesture gave Shin pause, confusion flickering across his face. Had his answer still failed to satisfy?
"The idea isn't wrong," Natsuhiko said calmly, tapping the table once more. This time, Shin instinctively reached for the teapot and poured him a cup. "But it's far too narrow. It's not enough."
"Then… what would you suggest, Captain Natsuhiko?" Shin asked quietly as he set the teapot down.
By now, his trust in Natsuhiko had deepened—whether by choice or necessity, he could no longer deny the influence this young man held over him.
"The path you've chosen is the lowest level of solution," Natsuhiko replied with a faint smile, lifting his teacup for a measured sip before continuing. "Not that it isn't necessary—but do you remember what I told you? Achieve the greatest authority at the smallest possible cost."
He set the cup down gently, his gaze steady.
"I do not believe the Uchiha are inherently beyond redemption. They've simply been led astray by certain individuals. What you must do is guide them back."
"And to prevent them from being misled again, some bloodshed is unavoidable—you will need to eliminate those who are doing the leading."
"Once that is done, your voice within the clan will naturally grow stronger. Even your clan head will begin to regard you with caution."
He paused, letting the weight of his words settle before continuing.
"So my advice is this: wait. Wait for your clan head to make a mistake."
Shin listened intently, nodding at first as understanding dawned—only for his brow to crease once more.
Waiting for Fugaku to make a mistake…
It wasn't an unreasonable idea. Fugaku had made plenty of missteps before, small ones that could be seized upon if necessary.
But small mistakes alone were hardly enough to bring him down.
Just as Shin opened his mouth to voice his doubt, Natsuhiko raised a hand, cutting him off.
"Don't rush," he said evenly. "Let me ask you something first. Within the Uchiha, how much influence do you have in the Police Force?"
"The Police Force?" Shin blinked, then answered after a moment's thought, "Not much. There are three divisions—only one of them is aligned with us."
"That's already sufficient," Natsuhiko said, his smile widening ever so slightly. "In that case, you can begin there."
Shin's attention sharpened instantly.
"If your goal is to reintegrate the Uchiha into Konoha—if you truly wish to show that the Uchiha belong to the village—then tell me…" Natsuhiko leaned forward slightly, his voice soft but piercing, "does the Police Force belong to Konoha… or to the Uchiha?"
"The Police Force…" Shin's eyes lit up as realization began to dawn. "You mean—"
"Start simple," Natsuhiko interrupted, his tone direct. "Open half the positions in one division to civilian shinobi. That alone will be a meaningful first step."
"And as for your own division, its conduct must change as well. You're well aware of how deeply resented the Police Force is among the civilians."
"The Uchiha who are displaced by this change need not worry. In the future, the entire Police Force will be yours to command—losing a few positions now is insignificant."
"And once you truly hold control…" His gaze deepened, his meaning unmistakable. "Why not go further? Bring in members from other clans."
"For the Uchiha, that may well be the best way to fully integrate into Konoha."
With that, Natsuhiko drained his teacup in a single motion and rose to his feet.
Almost immediately, the other patrons in the teahouse stood as well, as though bound by some silent understanding. One by one, they departed without a sound, leaving the space eerily empty.
Natsuhiko set the empty cup down and looked at Shin one last time.
"Waiting does not mean doing nothing," he said calmly. "On the contrary—acting in ways that force others to reveal their flaws is often the better choice."
"That's all I have to say. Have the boy follow the others."
"And as for me… I'll take my leave."
In the next instant, the Flying Thunder God Technique activated.
Without a ripple, without a trace, Natsuhiko vanished—only to reappear within an old, timeworn residence.
This was the former enclave of the Uzumaki clan within Konoha, a place he knew well by virtue of his ties to the Senju. After all, Uzumaki Mito had married into the Senju, and it was she who had established this very site.
The moment he arrived, his sensory perception expanded outward in a sudden surge, sweeping through the structure and locking onto every sealing array hidden within its walls.
He paid them no mind.
Step by step, he moved forward, unhurried.
The place was utterly secluded, devoid of any human presence—a silence that suited his purpose perfectly.
"I've found it."
Through his perception, he pinpointed the location of the masks within the room ahead. His chakra spread swiftly, and deep beneath the compound, a marker bearing his Flying Thunder God seal formed silently in the earth.
In the next heartbeat, the technique activated once more.
He stepped into the chamber.
Before him lay a collection of masks—countless, varied, each imbued with something faintly unsettling. And yet, Natsuhiko's gaze settled unerringly upon one in particular: the most ordinary in appearance, yet pulsing with an eerie, unnatural chakra.
A faint smile tugged at his lips.