c149: It's all about being jealous
A circle of street lamps surrounded the edge of the Uchiha district's main square. The dim yellow light dispersed the darkness, though not completely, leaving the familiar solemn atmosphere of night in the clan's gathering grounds.
Except for the police force on duty, most of the Uchiha had gathered here. On the outer ring were the younger shinobi still struggling with the first stages of their Sharingan, while closer in sat those with one tomoe, two tomoe, and even a handful of elite jōnin who bore three tomoe in both eyes.
Mixed among them were ordinary clansmen wives, children, and elders who, while not shinobi, had come to witness the clan meeting. By tradition, the entire clan could attend, but only shinobi or recognized heads of households had the right to voice opinions. Civilian members could only rely on their kin to represent their thoughts.
Clan meetings were not endless debates but rather moments to announce decisions, mediate internal disputes, and reaffirm their solidarity. If nothing serious pressed, they became occasions for strengthening bonds among the proud Uchiha.
Gen Uchiha reached the square, leapt gracefully through the crowd, and landed in its center. The sudden movement drew every pair of eyes.
"Mom, look Brother Xuan is back!"
A young Itachi, kneeling in perfect posture behind his father, Fugaku, couldn't help but show a flicker of warmth. His voice betrayed a rare spark of excitement.
Mikoto, seated beside him with baby Sasuke nestled in her arms, lowered her head slightly. A gentle smile tugged at her lips, radiating maternal warmth as she answered quietly, "Yes, Itachi. I see him."
Fugaku's stern face softened ever so slightly. "Xuan, why have you returned so suddenly?"
Gen bowed respectfully. "Patriarch, honored elders." His tone was steady, neither obsequious nor arrogant.
"An incident of great importance occurred. It concerns not only Konoha, but our Uchiha clan directly."
At once, murmurs rippled through the gathering until Fugaku's sharp voice cut them off. "Silence. Let him speak."
Gen continued, his voice carrying across the silent square. "On the Kirigakure front, I was ambushed by the true culprit behind the Nine-Tails attack."
The moment the words left his lips, a storm of whispers erupted. The mention of the Nine-Tails still stung like a fresh wound. Many remembered the night when their clan's name had been whispered with suspicion throughout Konoha.
Fugaku's eyes narrowed. "The true culprit?"
"Yes," Gen replied firmly. "A man disguised as a Konoha envoy attempted to lure me from camp. I recognized the flaw in his disguise, secretly alerted Orochimaru-sensei, and together we set a counter-ambush."
The eldest councilor, Uchiha Setsuna, stroked his beard and nodded approvingly. "Sharp instincts, boy. You've inherited the vigilance worthy of our name."
Setsuna's praise carried weight. Though feared by some for his hardline admiration of Madara, none could doubt his knowledge of clan history and politics. His approval prompted murmurs of agreement from the second and third elders, as well as from Shisui, who stood among the younger but already respected shinobi.
Yet, even as they praised him, most could not fathom the danger of outwitting the man tied to the Nine-Tails an enemy clearly beyond ordinary strength.
Gen's expression remained composed, his calm demeanor impressing many. In truth, his heart swelled with satisfaction, but he hid it well, knowing arrogance would only breed envy.
He continued, "Together with Orochimaru-sensei, we repelled the enemy. In the battle, I also reclaimed something of great significance to our clan something once lost to time."
He lifted the great Uchiha war fan from his back and presented it reverently to Fugaku. "The Uchiha Gunbai, symbol of our clan since the days of Madara-sama."
Gasps swept the crowd. Few had ever heard more than whispers of such an artifact, and fewer still had believed it existed.
Fugaku rose from his seat, receiving the fan with rare solemnity. His eyes lingered on its indestructible lacquered surface. He recognized it from clan records, but even he could not be entirely certain.
Setsuna stepped forward, his hands trembling as he studied it. "It is no forgery. I saw Madara-sama wield this very fan when I was a child. He carried it into every battle, even when he stood against Hashirama Senju. This is the true Gunbai Uchiha, symbol of our clan's power and our crest."
He turned to the crowd, voice booming. "This fan deflects even the strongest ninjutsu. It is no mere heirloom, it is a weapon worthy of the gods themselves!"
The younger shinobi gasped audibly. A fan that could turn back jutsu itself? Such power sounded more like myth than reality.
Gen added smoothly, "During the battle, I saw the fan rebound an attack so strongly that even Orochimaru-sensei was nearly caught in its reflection." He fabricated just enough detail to spark awe while grounding it in believable truth.
The claim sent another wave of chatter through the square. To hear that even the Sannin himself had been nearly undone by the fan magnified its prestige.
Shisui's eyes gleamed with thought. "Great Elder," he asked, "who was Madara-sama truly?"
The question struck the assembly like a thrown kunai. Many younger clan members leaned in, eager for stories rarely spoken.
Some of the elders frowned, wary of dredging up a name long branded taboo in Konoha. Yet the hunger for knowledge among the youth could not be ignored.
Setsuna sat back down, his gaze distant. "Madara Uchiha… the strongest of our clan. A man who once stood equal to the First Hokage, Hashirama Senju. He led us through war, challenged fate itself, and sought power beyond the reach of common men."
The square fell silent, all ears on his words. The night deepened, and under the circle of faint lamps, the Uchiha gathered closer not just to hear a story, but to feel once more the fire of their own bloodline's pride.
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