One Week Later — Early Morning
Sasuke's house was calm and quiet, the kind of quiet that only came with routine. The whole family sat together for breakfast in the living room. Nothing fancy—just warm bowls of natto rice, miso soup, and a few small grilled fish. Pretty standard for a traditional household like the Uchihas'.
Things were usually on the stricter side during meals. Fugaku preferred order and silence. But lately, ever since Sasuke had started hanging around with that loudmouth Naruto kid, the mood at home had changed a bit. More noise, more energy.
And surprisingly, no one hated it.
Even Fugaku, who often gave Sasuke a hard time, didn't really mind the livelier atmosphere. Mikoto, especially, found it kind of refreshing.
That morning, Sasuke had barely finished a few bites before he set his chopsticks down with a grin.
"Father, Mother, Itachi—I'm full. Can I go now?"
Mikoto narrowed her eyes. "What are you talking about, Sasuke? You've barely eaten anything. You're not going anywhere until you finish your breakfast. Don't think I won't keep you home."
Sasuke winced. "But Mommmm," he whined, dragging himself over to her and tugging on her sleeve, "I promised that idiot Naruto we'd spar again this morning. If I'm late, he'll start running his mouth, saying I chickened out or something!"
"No excuses," she said, firm as ever. "Finish your food or you're not stepping out that door."
Seeing that pleading wouldn't work, Sasuke slouched back to his seat with a dramatic sigh and started shoveling rice into his mouth like a boy on a mission.
Itachi, for once, smiled.
"What's wrong?" he asked. "Having a hard time keeping up with Naruto?"
Sasuke paused mid-chew and glared at his brother. "Tch! As if! He's not even close to beating me! If you actually had time to train with me, I wouldn't have even gotten scratched!"
Itachi reached out and gently flicked Sasuke's forehead. "I'm busy, remember? But don't worry, I'll make time soon."
"You always say that," Sasuke muttered, rubbing his forehead, still chewing fast.
Within moments, he finished everything—including the last drop of miso soup—then stood up like a bullet. "Okay! I'm full! Bye, everyone!"
And just like that, he dashed out the door.
Pat-pat-pat-pat.
His footsteps faded down the hallway as silence crept back into the room.
Fugaku sipped his tea calmly before looking at Itachi. "Busy again today?"
Itachi nodded. "I've been taking more missions lately. Trying to push myself harder."
"Good," Fugaku said. "Even with the Sharingan awakened, you can't grow complacent."
At that, Itachi paused with his chopsticks halfway to his mouth. For just a moment, his smile tightened, like something had shifted beneath it. "I understand, Father. I'll be careful. I'm done eating—heading out."
He stood, bowed respectfully, and left.
Neither Fugaku nor Mikoto said anything. They didn't notice the subtle weight in Itachi's voice.
Later that morning…
At the Konoha Military Police Force headquarters, Fugaku had just sat down when the door to his office slammed open. Seven or eight Uchiha clan members poured in—most of them young, active shinobi. Their faces were tense, their voices louder than usual.
"Clan Head, why did they send more ANBU to monitor Naruto when he came to our compound?! If they trust us, why do they treat us like criminals?!"
"We're being pushed to the edge! The Uzumaki Clan was wiped out and look at what happened to the Senju! We're next!"
"They want to corner us like animals! We can't stay quiet forever!"
Fugaku frowned. He hadn't even gotten comfortable, and already this.
Their accusations weren't exactly wrong.
The Uchiha had been under scrutiny for years. Their allies—the Uzumaki and Senju—had both vanished from power. And now, the clan lived practically segregated from the rest of the village, boxed in and watched constantly. Even if they hadn't done anything wrong, the mistrust was crushing.
The clan's patience was wearing thin.
Still, Fugaku tried to be the voice of reason. "Calm down. Don't jump to conclusions. Sending Naruto to our compound might've just been a test. If we respond properly, we can show we're not a threat."
The others didn't look convinced.
Every day they walked through the village with suspicious glares burning into their backs. Every day they were reminded that they were no longer trusted. The younger generation, especially, had grown up in this pressure—and now they were ready to snap.
"Clan Head, are you really going to just sit and wait?!" one of them barked. "Have you thought about what that might cost the rest of us?"
"If we wait too long, there might not be a clan left to protect!"
The room buzzed with tension. Rage, fear, desperation, sharingan's flaring. Fugaku looked at each of them in turn and felt that old heaviness settle in his chest.
He didn't want civil war.
But how long could they really hold out?
After a long pause, Fugaku finally gave in.
"…Fine," he said quietly. "I'll support the decision to act. But listen carefully no one moves until we're fully prepared. Do not act on your own, we will prepare and make sure everything is perfect."
They nodded, fire blazing behind their eyes.
That was all they needed to hear.
With Fugaku's reluctant approval, they got to work immediately.
One group began mapping out Konoha's security rotations and patrol gaps. Others reinforced weapons and checked gear. Everyone took on a task. The pieces were falling into place.
As the meeting wrapped up, the mood was completely different. Hope had returned. The idea that they didn't have to die quietly had reignited something in them.
And so, while little Naruto had been nothing more than a spark… the powder keg had already been building.
The Uchiha Clan's path remained unchanged.
The gears of rebellion were already turning. just like the original story