Under the silver light of the moon, Yuhara strolled calmly out of Uchiha Sō's residence.
What would come of their conversation? Truthfully, Yuhara wasn't sure. Even though Sō had shown signs of being swayed, making a final decision wasn't going to be easy.
That entire faction operated as a single, unified front—more bluntly, they were a tightly knit interest group bound by shared beliefs. It wouldn't be surprising if, back when Uchiha Madara left the village, they were the ones who refused to follow him.
Trying to change their ideology was no small task. They weren't like Shisui. Shisui was still young—young enough to recognize his mistakes and change course.
But men like Sō were already past that point. Even if they realized they were wrong, there were always invisible forces pushing from behind, making change impossible. For them, the only path was forward—into the dark.
Or maybe it was something deeper. Maybe their unwavering beliefs, held for a lifetime, were impossible to let go of. If all it took was a few words to make them abandon everything they'd fought for, would it even be real?
"Everyone has some beliefs they cling to, even when they know they're wrong," Yuhara thought to himself. "Just like how I know my obsession with legs is weird, but I still can't help it."
As he muttered internally, he spotted Shisui waiting for him at the entrance, which brought a smile to his face.
"Thanks," Yuhara said as he walked up. "You rushed this a bit. You could've waited and gotten some rest."
"No time for rest," Shisui shook his head, his expression serious. "I can't sleep well with everything going on in the clan. And I heard everything you said in there. Yuhara… you're incredible."
That reaction made Yuhara laugh. Honestly, he never wanted to get caught up in this mess to begin with.
If that damn system hadn't forced his hand, he would've slipped away from Konoha already—found a peaceful place to hide out.
He'd be basking in the sun, reading Icha Icha Paradise, or fishing by a river. Now that sounded like paradise.
Instead, here he was—fighting Cloud ninja one day, Mist ninja the next, and now playing political professor for Shisui, teaching him dialectics and spinning motivational speeches.
Not to mention drawing up plans, meeting with creepy elders, and talking about "the future" like some half-baked prophet.
All of it—an endless string of chaos and hassle. If it weren't for the fact that his own life was tied to this clan's fate, he'd happily leave it all to someone else.
"There's nothing incredible about it," Yuhara said, keeping his annoyance hidden behind a polite smile. "I just want peace for the clan… stability for the village."
"But still—remember what I told you. You have to balance yourself. Stay tense too long and you'll snap. Rest is part of strength."
"…Fair enough. But I may have to return to the Anbu soon," Shisui said with a sigh. "Once I'm back, I'll barely have time for anything. Even quitting the Anbu takes time. That's why I'm in such a hurry."
Yuhara wasn't unfamiliar with the Anbu's workload—even if he'd never served in it. Shisui and Itachi vanished regularly. Sometimes for days, sometimes for weeks.
And now, during such a critical time for the clan, Shisui would be completely tied up.
No wonder he was anxious. Still, it was his own decision. Who could he blame?
To be honest, Yuhara had considered a more direct approach—like using their Mangekyōs to purge the clan.
Wipe out anyone who didn't fall in line. Force Fugaku to step down.
It wasn't like the Uchiha were strangers to internal strife. Maybe that kind of ruthless cleanup would actually fix things.
But even if it worked, ruling by force brought its own problems. Would those people truly be loyal? Would Shisui even agree to something so brutal?
Even if he did, the consequences would be ugly. Slapping people inspires fear—until you actually hit them. Then it's just pain and hatred.
That's why, despite knowing it could work, Yuhara never seriously considered it. He didn't even feel the urge to eliminate the faction leaders.
If this were a few years ago, before the Nine-Tails incident—back when Orochimaru was still in the village—he might've done it and blamed the mess on him.
At that time, with Minato as Hokage, things were better for the Uchiha. Minato didn't harbor any prejudice against them.
But now? Everything was different.
And if Yuhara went full Danzō—cold, arrogant, striking first and asking questions never—he'd only provoke deeper resentment.
No one likes living in fear. It's not about strength. It's just human nature.
"And besides, I'd never win over the clan that way. You can't start a revolution without unity. Mangekyō or not—it's not omnipotent."
Yuhara sighed inwardly. That's why he was still trying to play by the rules. For now.
But if things really spun out of control, then he wouldn't hesitate anymore.
His life was now inseparably tied to the clan's. If they went down, he'd go down with them. That wasn't acceptable.
If Konoha was going to move against them, then maybe it'd be better for Yuhara to strike first and turn the traitors into sacrifices for the future of the clan.
Better they die by his hand than be slaughtered like dogs by Konoha.
With that thought, his resolve hardened.
He'd had the idea before. But now, after meeting with the elder, he was truly committed.
As the saying goes—try reason first, then resort to force.
If you won't listen when I talk nicely, don't blame me when the gloves come off.
"Handle the Anbu situation however you see fit," Yuhara said after a pause. "If you decide to quit, then quit. You've worked hard, Shisui."
"I will. I'll take care of it properly." Shisui nodded firmly, then blinked as he noticed Yuhara heading out. "It's so late—where are you going?"
"Just want to test some sword techniques. Want to be my sparring partner?"
"So that's your secret—constant training. No wonder you're so strong. Alright, I'll check in and meet you."
"I'll be waiting at Training Ground Three. Oh—and bring me a ninja blade."
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