Chapter 271 — Return the Eye
Uchiha Mikoto turned her head toward the sofa.
"Itachi, what time is it?"
"It's 11:14," Uchiha Itachi replied, glancing at the clock.
"Goodness, it's so late already." Mikoto clapped her hands lightly. "Everyone, time for bed. Naruto, Sasuke — that includes you two."
"Oh, okay," Sasuke murmured obediently, slipping on his slippers and heading upstairs.
Naruto, however, didn't move. His eyes were glued to the phone screen, fingers tapping furiously.
"Aunt Mikoto, just a sec! I'm almost done with this round!"
Mikoto sighed and shot her husband a meaningful look — one that clearly asked why did you even give him that phone?
Fugaku coughed into his fist and pretended not to notice.
He wasn't thinking about Naruto or the game at all right now.
His mind was elsewhere — on Hatake Kakashi.
It had been nearly a year since he'd brought Ryūzetsu and her family back to the village.
The very next day, he had gone to see Kakashi, asking him to return Obito's eye.
As expected, Kakashi refused.
He'd said it was the last keepsake his best friend had left him — a final gift, a bond between brothers.
Fugaku wasn't surprised. He'd foreseen that answer long before.
He simply nodded and didn't press further. There was no need to rush.
He had considered, briefly, telling Kakashi the truth — that Obito Uchiha was still alive.
But after much thought, he had decided against it.
Obito's hands were soaked in blood.
He had murdered their teacher, destroyed the village's peace, and used the Nine-Tails to slaughter countless shinobi and civilians alike.
The truth would crush Kakashi.
Fugaku knew the man well enough to realize it would break him completely.
And so, he'd chosen a gentler way.
Through Kotoamatsukami — his Right Heavenly God — Fugaku had been subtly reshaping Kakashi's thoughts for over a year.
A slight adjustment here, a flicker of doubt there — nothing overt.
Just enough to make Kakashi slowly begin to see the Sharingan as a burden rather than a treasure.
He'd even set an alarm to remind himself every few days to reinforce the suggestion whenever their eyes met.
At first, he had done it carefully, methodically.
Later, when he got absorbed in games with Naruto, he occasionally forgot — but he always made up for it later.
Now, after a year of effort, he felt that the time was right.
He had a feeling Kakashi would finally return Obito's eye.
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That day, in the Hokage's office, Kakashi had walked in with his usual slouched posture and tired eyes.
"Hokage-sama," he began, voice steady but low, "I've been thinking deeply about something."
He paused. "I've realized Obito's eye has become a burden to me. After much thought, I've decided to return it… to its rightful owner. I'd like to hand it over to you."
Fugaku raised an eyebrow, hiding his satisfaction behind a calm expression.
So his intuition had been right.
All those subtle nudges through Kotoamatsukami had finally borne fruit.
He leaned back in his chair, pretending to consider it.
"Is that so? Why the sudden change of heart?"
Kakashi spoke earnestly.
"I dreamed of my father a while ago. He told me his greatest regret was never seeing the Hatake Swordsmanship passed down. But ever since I received Obito's eye, I've relied too much on its power. I've strayed from my father's path."
He looked up. "I want to refocus on mastering the Hatake Swordsmanship — to restore its honor in the ninja world."
Kakashi reached into his vest and placed a folded paper on the desk.
"For that, Hokage-sama… I'd like to request my resignation."
Fugaku blinked. Resignation?
That wasn't part of the plan.
The speech Kakashi had just given — that was Kotoamatsukami's influence.
But this resignation… that was purely Kakashi's own decision.
Still, it didn't bother Fugaku much.
Getting Obito's eye back was already a victory.
If Kakashi wanted to retire, so be it. The Uchiha clan had plenty of capable jōnin to fill the gap — Yashiro, Inaho, or others.
He smiled faintly and signed the paper.
"Very well. You've worked hard all these years, Kakashi. If this is the path you wish to take, I won't stop you."
Fugaku's tone softened.
"Your father, Sakumo Hatake — Konoha's White Fang — was a man I deeply respected. His swordsmanship terrified even the elite of Sunagakure and Iwagakure. That alone proved that when perfected, the Hatake Swordsmanship is no weaker than any kekkei genkai — not even the Sharingan."
He nodded once.
"Go and pursue it. Make your family's name shine again."
Kakashi's eyes — those eternally half-lidded, dead-fish eyes — flickered with emotion.
"…Thank you for your understanding, Hokage-sama. I will."
Fugaku looked away, suppressing a sigh. Even when moved, Kakashi somehow still looked lifeless.
He cleared his throat.
"One more thing. My clan has a medical-nin well-versed in ocular transplants. I'll have him handle the procedure personally. Wait here; I'll summon him."
He turned slightly toward the air.
"Kisame, I'll trouble you with an errand. You know where Uchiha Hidetoshi lives, don't you?"
Kisame Hoshigaki appeared soundlessly, kneeling on one knee.
"Yes, Hokage-sama. His house is right beside mine."
Fugaku's brow lifted slightly. "Heh. Convenient."
"Then bring him here — and have him bring everything required for the transplant."
"Yes!" Kisame replied crisply before vanishing in a blur, leaving the curtains by the window fluttering in his wake.
Kakashi settled onto the sofa, waiting quietly. His thoughts were already far away, filled with visions of sword practice, of finally mastering the Hatake Swordsmanship.
For so long, he'd been known as the Copy Ninja — a man defined by another's eye.
He'd memorized thousands of jutsu, yes, but none of them were his own.
The Sharingan had granted him knowledge but stolen his stamina, draining his chakra even when inactive.
Now, at last, he could let that burden go.
He could finally walk his own path.
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