When Uchiha Fugaku rushed over with his Konoha Police Force shinobi, the scene that greeted him was chaos—and not the kind he wanted. The only ones there were Uchiha Izumi, Hatake Kakashi, and a few others.
But then his eyes landed on Naruto.
And his heart dropped.
The Nine-Tails' jinchūriki... was bleeding.
He was injured.
Fugaku's first instinct was to check Naruto's mental state. Once he confirmed the boy wasn't losing control, he finally relaxed just a little. That tight knot in his chest slowly began to loosen.
Then he turned his eyes toward Sasuke.
Sasuke looked like he'd been through hell—bruised, scraped, and shaken. Fugaku's brow furrowed instantly.
If this were Itachi... he wouldn't be this beat up. Same blood, same family—how is the difference this big?
That was the very first thought that ran through his mind.
Even now, Fugaku wasn't concerned. His reflex was to compare.
And when he looked past them—to the destroyed buildings and frightened Uchiha civilians—his frustration boiled over.
He exhaled sharply, voice tight with tension.
"Izumi. Where's Chizumi?"
Izumi didn't even flinch. She pulled a clean handkerchief from her pouch and gently wiped the blood off Naruto's face, then pressed it against his wound.
Cold, focused, she said,
"Chizumi-senpai is out executing Absolute Justice. Clan head or not, please don't interfere."
She paused for a beat, then added firmly:
"He'll soon deal with those who dared challenge justice. Evil doesn't get to run wild."
And with that, she stopped acknowledging Fugaku altogether.
She handed Naruto the cloth to hold, then pulled out a pack of antiseptic wipes.
"Sasuke-kun, let me clean those up."
Sasuke froze for a moment, then instinctively glanced at his father.
But Fugaku was lost in thought, barely noticing him. That sting of being ignored hit Sasuke hard. He bit his lip, lowered his head, and quietly walked over to Izumi.
Even an outsider like her seemed to care more than his own father. The bitterness in his chest only grew.
Fugaku, meanwhile, had already learned what he needed—Chizumi had survived. Uchiha Setsuna's plot had failed completely.
He sighed once again.
But who is Chizumi hunting now? Setsuna? Or that mysterious "Ninja Clan" he mentioned?
Fugaku frowned. He'd forgotten to ask Setsuna which clan that even was.
He turned to Kakashi, spotting the unmistakable silver hair.
"If the Hokage finds out Naruto was injured, please clarify that it had nothing to do with the Uchiha."
Kakashi blinked. Was it just him, or did Fugaku's voice… almost sound like a plea?
Weird.
He's the Uchiha Patriarch. No way he'd stoop like that over something this minor... right?
Kakashi nodded without comment.
"I'll report the truth to the Hokage."
Fugaku finally let himself breathe again.
Then, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed two officers quietly slipping away.
His brow twitched—but he said nothing.
…
Meanwhile
"Still alive… tch." Uchiha Setsuna slowly closed his eyes. His expression was calm, but the veins pulsing on his forehead told a different story.
He had handed the Shimura clan everything—every known weakness Chizumi might have.
And yet, that sorry excuse for a clan had still managed to screw it up. Despite being allowed to sneak explosive tags into Uchiha territory, they had failed.
Setsuna had been prepared: Chizumi wouldn't walk away from this. If the blast didn't kill him, it would at least cripple him—and Setsuna had people ready to finish the job.
But Chizumi wasn't dead.
Wasn't even injured.
Unbelievable.
"Pathetic," Setsuna growled. "These so-called ninja clans—garbage, all of them. Without the Uchiha, they couldn't even keep Konoha standing."
"Hayata..."
He thought of his grandson, Uchiha Hayata—now vaporized by Chizumi's molten lava.
Meanwhile, the target of the assassination hadn't even broken a sweat.
His hand clutched at his chest as his breathing grew ragged. Red flushed his cheeks unnaturally. His lips paled as he hissed the name:
"U! Chi! Ha! Chi! Zu! Mi!"
…
At the same time
Hiruzen Sarutobi didn't waste another second. Forget the angry clan heads Chizumi had antagonized—Naruto's safety came first. With a full squad of Anbu, he barged straight into the Uchiha compound.
Naturally, the Uchiha were pissed.
Strangers—especially armed ones—had no business here.
But with Fugaku as their leader, the Uchiha compound had basically become open grounds.
"Fugaku!"
Hiruzen found him near the ruins, face grim.
"Is Naruto here?"
Fugaku opened his mouth—
"Gramps!!!" Naruto's voice rang out.
The tension on Hiruzen's face softened. He even managed a slight smile—until he saw the blood-soaked handkerchief pressed against Naruto's head.
The smile vanished.
"Medic!" he barked.
An Anbu medic stepped forward. Hiruzen rushed over.
"Let them treat you first, Naruto."
Naruto pointed at Sasuke.
"Can you help him too?"
Hiruzen blinked. Fugaku's youngest son, right?
"Of course."
He stepped aside to let the medic work, then asked gently,
"Naruto, what happened to your head? Did someone hurt you?"
Naruto answered honestly:
"It was the explosion."
"...!"
Hiruzen turned toward the rubble nearby. From the looks of it, Naruto had almost died.
His face darkened.
"Kakashi," he said quietly, "I put Naruto in your care. You should know more than he does."
Before Kakashi could speak, Naruto interrupted.
"That white-haired guy said it was the Shimura clan!"
"...Shimura?"
Hiruzen stiffened.
Kakashi exhaled and gave a full explanation.
Hiruzen's frown deepened.
So… Shimura shinobi had tried to assassinate Chizumi—only to nearly kill Naruto and Sasuke instead.
If Chizumi hadn't reacted fast enough—or if Kakashi hadn't caught them—it would've been over.
"Wait." Hiruzen's voice sharpened.
"You said Chizumi went alone to confront the Shimura clan?"
Kakashi nodded.
"When?"
"Five minutes ago."
"..."
Too late.
Tonight wasn't going to be Uchiha's "Annihilation Night."
It was the Shimura clan's.
Hiruzen knew the type of people Danzo surrounded himself with. They were loyal to Konoha, sure—but they'd also inherited Danzo's twisted ideals.
Even if they hadn't done his dirty work, what they did tonight crossed a serious line.
If Chizumi hadn't cared about collateral damage, that explosion would've wiped out a lot of innocent Uchiha.
And for someone like him—for Absolute Justice—
Everyone involved... must die.
"Gramps! Chizumi-sensei let me carry out justice today—I passed his test!"
Naruto, now bandaged and healed, beamed with pride. Hiruzen had just been about to grumble about him calling Chizumi "sensei," when—
"WHAT?!"
Hiruzen's eyes went wide.
"He made you kill someone?! You passed his 'test'—does that mean—"
He stopped mid-sentence and shot a deadly glare at Kakashi.
Didn't I order you to keep Naruto away from this? What the hell have you been doing?
"It's not what you think, Hokage-sama…"
Kakashi gave a bitter smile and explained.
Hiruzen blinked.
Then blinked again.
It really was just a test?
...Oh.
He coughed, awkward.
Good thing I didn't say all that out loud. Would've made a real fool of myself.
…
Inside the Shimura compound, several clan members stood around anxiously, waiting for the elders to return. The moment they showed up, the younger shinobi rushed forward.
"Elder, did that Uchiha Plague finally die?!"
The elder shook his head, expression grim.
"We did see Uchiha Chizumi engulfed by the explosion... but we couldn't confirm the kill. Staying any longer would've meant running into the Police Force."
There was a flicker of shadow in his tired eyes.
"And I didn't expect Hatake Kakashi to be there. If we'd been a second slower, he would've caught us."
"Kakashi? The Copy Ninja?" one of the younger shinobi hesitated. "Isn't he part of Anbu? What was he doing there?"
The elder replied flatly, "Who knows. Doesn't matter. At least we accomplished what we set out to do. After tonight, I'll go straight to the Hokage and turn myself in. I'll take all the blame."
"That way, the Uchiha won't come after the rest of you. And if by some miracle Chizumi survived... then he'll come for me."
"As for you—leave the village. Say you're taking on missions outside. Stay gone until this whole thing blows over."
Just as he finished giving orders, a cold voice cut in like a blade:
"I've got a better destination for you."
Everyone in the room froze.
The elder's expression twisted in shock.
"How about the afterlife?"
Uchiha Chizumi, fully intact and absolutely unbothered, strode straight into the Shimura compound—ninjatō in hand.
The elder slowly turned.
When he saw Chizumi standing there without a scratch, his knees nearly buckled.
"You... you knew someone was going to try and kill you?!"
There was no other explanation. How else could Chizumi have survived that many explosive tags unless he had already activated some sort of defensive jutsu like Lava Release: Chakra Armor?
And if he activated it in advance… he must've known.
Wait a minute.
The elder's face darkened further.
Was this a setup? Was Setsuna working with Chizumi the entire time? Did they bait us into this so they'd have an excuse to wipe us out?
He took a long breath, then said coldly,
"Uchiha Chizumi. I did it. I planned your assassination. I laid the tags. No one else was involved."
"Everyone here just followed orders. The Shimura clan—only I am guilty."
Chizumi looked at the people around him.
They stared back—nervous, guarded, eyes filled with hostility.
But what Chizumi saw was worse than fear.
Over every one of their heads, bright red text glowed vividly before his eyes.
[Crime: Direct involvement in the attempted assassination of Uchiha Chizumi]
That alone was enough to mark them as red named criminals in his justice system.
And worse?
If he hadn't intervened using Wood Release to shield innocent Uchiha clan members, those explosions would've killed dozens.
They all knew the risk. They still went through with it.
They didn't care how many innocents died.
And some—Chizumi realized—had even more red crimes hovering above them.
It wasn't surprising. Konoha wasn't that small, and many ninja were constantly on missions. Chizumi couldn't track them all—yet. Absolute Justice was still growing.
"Not a single innocent," Chizumi said quietly.
His gaze locked onto the elder.
"Especially you, Shimura Jōya. Of everyone here, your sins shine the brightest."
The elder's face drained of all color.
He understood instantly: Chizumi wasn't just here for him.
He was here to wipe out everyone.
"Attack him—now! Otherwise we're all dead!"
Jōya tossed aside his cane and started weaving hand signs at blinding speed, his old body straining to summon what chakra it had left.
"Wind Style: Wind Cutter!"
With a deep inhale, he spewed two sharp wind blades—barely visible to the naked eye—straight at Chizumi.
Chizumi sidestepped the first and casually swung his ninjatō, cleaving the second in half midair.
As he lifted his head, his three-tomoe Sharingan gleamed blood-red beneath the moonlight—cold, focused, merciless.
The rest of the Shimura shinobi moved in. One of them even bit his thumb and summoned a beast.
Every jutsu, every weapon, every strategy—they threw it all.
Their strongest techniques—all at once.
Chizumi just sheathed his sword. His right arm was already transforming—glowing red, bubbling, molten.
"No wonder no one ever remembers your clan. You've got no presence. No impact."
Multiple Vacuum Spheres slammed into his body, punching clean holes through him.
But instead of blood, lava oozed from the wounds.
Then—
Shnk!
A wind blade sliced across his neck, halfway through.
It didn't stop there. It carved clean through the clan's front gate behind him.
Still… only magma dripped from the cut.
That gruesome neck wound?
Already healing—instantly.
Lava coursed through Chizumi's arm, glowing brighter.
The Shimura shinobi, frozen in horror, watched as the magma surged—his right arm rapidly swelling with pressure.
"Lava Style…"
"Great Eruption!!!"
~~~
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