July 27th
The scorching winds of the Land of Wind carried the distinct, metallic tang of blood and the bitter scent of scorched earth.
Following their devastating defeat along the borders, Sunagakure had desperately mobilized their entire shinobi force in a frantic attempt to halt Kagami's relentless advance. Yet, against the terrifying, synchronized assaults of four Mangekyō Sharingan—Kagami, Naori, Naka, and Fukashi—the Suna forces could do nothing but slowly, bloodily pull back.
The fierce offensive only ground to a halt with the sudden return of Kenji, the Anbu Commander. With a quiet suggestion highlighting their stretched supply lines and the need to consolidate their force, Kenji convinced Kagami to wait for incoming reinforcements. More importantly, it was Kenji's intel on the location of the Kuchimoso clan that ultimately shifted Kagami's decision.
The cost of the two-day campaign was staggering. Konoha had suffered three hundred and forty casualties—a grim number, but one entirely eclipsed by the overwhelming devastation inflicted upon their enemy. Sunagakure had suffered a massive one thousand eight hundred casualties. Twelve hundred had been vaporized or crushed during the initial surprise attack, while the remaining six hundred were cut down in the desperate series of skirmishes that followed.
Now, inside a small, captured oasis that had once served as a bustling Sunagakure fortress town, Konoha's Suna front detachment finally rested.
***
Under the rare, shifting shade of a tall palm tree, fourteen-year-old Shinichi sat cross-legged. He wore simple black shorts, a high-collared blue combat shirt, and light purple chest armor tailored to his lean frame. Beneath him, his dark brown desert overcoat was spread out flat against the sand, used primarily to block the blistering heat during the day.
He held a sleek, custom double-edged chokutō in his right hand and a gray whetstone in his left.
Scritch. Scritch.
The rhythmic, soothing sound of steel scraping against stone filled the immediate area. After a final stroke, Shinichi raised the sword toward the sky. The noon sun caught the polished chakra metal, reflecting a blinding, razor-sharp line across his calm face.
Satisfied, he smoothly sheathed the blade back into its scabbard, laid flat on his back beneath the palm tree, and rested his head on his hands. He stared up through the canopy, watching the palm leaves sway lazily in the arid breeze, rhythmically filtering the piercing sunlight.
"..."
Shinichi's brow furrowed slightly as his mind wandered back to the puzzle that had been consuming him since the border crossing. He couldn't quite grasp the intricacies behind the awakening of the Mangekyō Sharingan.
He had seen it happen before. His father, Fukashi, had undergone an equally abrupt and aggressive awakening years ago. Driven to despair after witnessing Uchiha Madara's death, Fukashi had actually attempted to challenge Hashirama Senju himself. It was a suicidal impulse, one that Fukashi miraculously restrained out of sheer love for Shinichi and his family. While Fukashi had undeniably grown colder on a regular basis after that day, his core remained intact; among his clansmen and within the privacy of their home, Fukashi had never truly changed.
Then there was Naka. Naka had always been aggressively arrogant before his awakening, turned oddly calm right after it, and then reverted right back to his volatile self the moment the first true battle with Sunagakure began.
Naori was the exact opposite. She had barely shifted at all, maintaining her trademark serenity from the moment her eyes transformed to this day.
But Kagami... Kagami's transformation puzzled Shinichi to his core.
The gentle and fiercely loyal man who had lived to bridge the gap between the Uchiha and the rest of the village had completely vanished. His entire persona had morphed into that of a hollow, merciless avenger. There were no remnants of his past self left, no flickering warmth.
Shinichi's instincts told him that something was deeply wrong. It was common knowledge among a select few elders and top shinobi of the clan that all Mangekyō users experienced emotional instability. The overwhelming rush of unique Yin chakra to the brain inevitably led to a transformation in their psyche. But it was rarely this theatrical, this dramatic, or this long-lasting. Three other examples were admittedly not enough to make an accurate, scientific judgment, but the gut feeling twisting in Shinichi's stomach insisted that a hidden hand was spinning a different web.
Lately, Fukashi and several of the older Uchiha clansmen had been visiting Kagami's command tent, attempting to appeal to his reason and cool his boiling temper. But Kagami showed no signs of improvement. His malice was fixed like a permanent stain. It seemed as though his wrath would not and could not abate until Sunagakure was reduced to ash.
But at what cost? What would be left of the Leaf's honor? What would be left of the Uchiha?
Shinichi let out a long, heavy sigh, shifting his gaze away from the blinding light. He bitterly wished the secret archives back in the compound had kept extensive biographies and psychological logs on Mangekyō awakeners to use as a reference. But the clan elders of the past had been vain and short-sighted. The scrolls only meticulously detailed the names of the users, their glories, and the divine nature of their dōjutsu.
They had completely ignored the state of their minds.
Shinichi continued to rest under the palm tree, waiting for Fukashi's return from the meeting. He had already decided to stay out of military affairs and high-level strategy until he grew older. He was not ignorant of politics, but it had never been his best forte. Even as a Grandmaster in his past life, he had delegated such tasks to more capable subordinates, silently supporting them with his martial prowess instead.
Tobirama's death had thrown the clan into greater chaos than ever before. The sudden revelation of four active Mangekyō Sharingan within the clan had empowered many to advocate for overthrowing Hiruzen and seizing control of Konoha. Shinichi viewed this as a foolish yet understandable stance; the Uchiha simply refused to fall behind the Senju. However, the true problem lay with Kagami. Though unknown to the regular clansmen, Kagami had no interest in using this momentum to elevate the clan's political voice in Konoha. He was entirely hell-bent on punishing Suna.
Worse still, upon hearing that the Suna front was resuming the war, the Uchiha clan members back in Konoha had been placed under informal house arrest. They were officially ordered to restrict their movement to their duties within the Konoha Military Police Force by decree of the Third Hokage—a move heavily influenced by the Senju Grand Elder, Genshiro.
Consequently, the clansmen on the front lines were fractured. Some wanted to return to Konoha to "liberate" their families, while others pushed to continue the campaign, hoping to earn enough battlefield merit to cleanse their infamy and demand respect. While nearly every Uchiha dreamed of gaining leverage over Konoha, most were unwilling to risk their families' lives by launching an overt rebellion.
Moreover, the initial outrage that had united the army was fading. Unlike the outbreak of the conflict—when every shinobi was furious over Suna's "sneak attack" on Kagami—cooler heads were now prevailing. Regular shinobi, regardless of their clan origin, were starting to question the motives behind Kagami's relentless charge. In their eyes, there was no longer any logical reason to continue this bloodshed.
As Shinichi continued to muse, familiar quarreling voices and approaching footsteps cut through the quiet of the oasis.
"Fukashi-sama! Can't you see! the Senju are up to no good!"
"Naka, don't..."
"NO! Naori, not now!" Naka snapped, turning to chase after Fukashi, who kept walking in solemn silence.
"Fukashi-sama! Once their reinforcements and the Kyūbi arrive, who knows what they will do! We must return! We need to stop this stupid waste of chakra and resources and consolidate our forces with the rest of the clan."
"And then what?" Fukashi asked, never breaking his stride. "Disobey the frontline commander's orders and launch an outright rebellion?"
"Although I dislike Kagami, he is an Uchiha after all," Naka argued, pressing his case. "He will understand. He'll cover for us."
Fukashi didn't reply and simply kept walking.
"WHY! What changed you so much?!" Naka halted in his tracks. His Mangekyō Sharingan spun to life, his voice dropping into a low, sinister tone dripping with malice and a sense of betrayal. "Does the clan mean nothing to you now? Do you only care about your own family? Can you no longer see the bigger picture?!"
Fukashi's steps finally came to a halt. He turned slowly.
"The fate of our clan was narrowed down to a single path the moment we betrayed Sensei." Fukashi's expression contorted with sudden fury as his own Mangekyō Sharingan flared to life. "The moment Madara-sama died, our clan's survival became entirely dependent on Konoha. Do you honestly think I am satisfied with the status quo?"
Naka's gaze flickered in brief confusion before lighting up with excitement.
"But now, we have four Mangekyō Sharingan! That is an even greater hand than when we only had Madara-sama and Izuna-sama! Surely, we can—"
"It is not enough!" Fukashi bellowed, stomping heavily toward Naka. "If our dōjutsu were so omnipotent, Izuna-sama would still be alive! Madara-sama would still be with us! We wouldn't have needed Hashirama or Tobirama to serve as our Hokage! The clan? The bigger picture?"
Fukashi stopped a mere inch from Naka, glaring down at him. "I have no doubt that we could crush those scums back in Konoha. But at what cost?"
For the first time, Naka's eyes shook.
"How many clansmen will actually survive a war against the Senju? And even if we win, do you think Iwa and the other nations will just sit idly by and wait for us to recover?"
"But Kumo is locked in a civil war, and the other nations are broken beyond repair!" Naka countered desperately. "This is the prime opportunity!"
"The prime opportunity to drag ourselves down to the exact same level as them!" Fukashi snapped. "We hold the most fertile lands in the Elemental Nations. If we throw away our strength now and fail to dominate the other villages militarily, we will lose everything within a single generation."
"...."
Naka lowered his head in defeat, though his eyes continued to burn with bottled-up fury and frustration. Finally, feeling the gentle but firm tug of Naori's hand on his sleeve, Naka offered a stiff bow. He turned away from Fukashi and walked off. Naori too turned her head and bowed respectfully and followed after Naka.
Watching Naka depart with Naori, Fukashi let out a heavy sigh before resuming his walk toward his son.
"Father," Shinichi greeted him with a faint smirk. "You seem to be having fun."
Fukashi shook his head, offering a dry smile as he patted Shinichi's shoulder. "What can I say? Ever since you decided to take a step back, I've had to step up to fill the gap."
"Well," Shinichi said, shrugging. "I am only fourteen years old right now."
Fukashi rolled his eyes. "Yeah, a fourteen-year-old Jōnin. Your voice already carries more weight than most of the adults in the clan."
"I know," Shinichi nodded, his tone turning serious. "But even then, I cannot influence the entire clan with my current status. I wanted the clan to push for the Police Force reforms before—or even during—the war, but Uncle Sōsuke refused. I voiced my own tactical assessment regarding Uzushio, only to be frowned upon because of my age. I'd rather not waste energy on things I cannot change right now. I will focus on my training instead."
"..." Fukashi lowered his gaze, a thoughtful look crossing his face. After a quiet moment, he raised his head. "What are your thoughts on Sōsuke as the clan head?"
"He is a good person and a great uncle. But he is a poor clan leader," Shinichi stated bluntly. "He is too indecisive. Too timid. He has no idea how to properly utilize the clan's personnel and resources to our advantage."
"...Well, don't you think that's somewhat inevitable?" Fukashi countered softly. "Going up against Tobirama and Konoha as a whole... he must have faced immense difficulties as the clan head."
Shinichi shook his head. "Tobirama, the Senju, and Konoha are all formidable adversaries. But are we not the Uchiha? If we truly chose to address an issue with unified and serious intent, they would have no choice but to listen to us. For example, if Uncle Sosuke voiced our opinion properly, the village would have had no choice but to allow us to cycle our clansmen back to Konoha like other village shinobis. Although Sōsuke doesn't show it outright, it is evident that he lacks the confidence required to lead this clan."
"That..."
"It is not just the clan head that concerns me," Shinichi continued, cutting in smoothly. "The elders as a whole lack concrete plans and a clear direction. It is almost as though they are completely blind to what they are actually trying to achieve."
"..." Fukashi closed his eyes, letting out a weary sigh. "That may be because they were never groomed or taught to become elders, let alone a clan head. Since the warring era between the Senju and Uchiha, most of the political legacies and leadership traditions passed down through generations were lost. Sōsuke was never meant to be the clan head, and none of the current elders were ever supposed to hold their seats."
"Then it seems we have a great many things to fix within this clan, don't we?"
"Yes..." Fukashi murmured. "We do."