Hashirama cells.Seriously? Was that something an Uchiha brat like him was even allowed to mess with?
Uchiha Jinzō still couldn't believe it by the time he got home.If Sarutobi Hiruzen ever found out, he'd probably just erase him on the spot.
Not that it mattered. Even if he said, "Hey, not my fault!" they wouldn't care.Excuses meant nothing here.
Still, the image of those research notes he'd stuffed into his backpack—records of Hashirama's cells, a few forbidden techniques he'd filched—kept burning in his mind. It was equal parts thrilling and terrifying, and his brain wouldn't shut up about it.
"Mangekyō Sharingan plus Hashirama cells? Minimum, that's Kage-level. Maybe more."
The only catch? He hadn't even awakened his Sharingan yet. Not even the basic one-tomoe. So yeah—Mangekyō? That was a joke.
Jinzō pushed open his front door, trying to shake off the thoughts, only to freeze.
Someone was already sitting at his table.Someone he really didn't want to see.
Jinzō sighed. "Wow. The young patriarch himself has time to drop in on a nobody like me. What an honor."
Because who else could waltz straight into his house without knocking?Of course it was Uchiha Fugaku.
"Next time, don't just break in like a burglar," Jinzō added lazily. "People might start thinking the Uchiha police are slacking off."
Fugaku's expression didn't so much as twitch at the sarcasm. He just waited until Jinzō was done running his mouth.
"I heard… you've been accepted as Lord Jiraiya's disciple."
Jinzō smirked. "Word gets around fast. So what, Fugaku? Right now, my standing isn't much worse than yours."
On the surface, being Jiraiya's student didn't come with official perks. But in the shadows? It meant access. It meant legitimacy. It meant that, in theory, this 'failure Uchiha' had a pathway to Hokage.
Too bad his surname was Uchiha. That always ruined the fun.
"You… were actually chosen by Lord Jiraiya?" Fugaku's voice trembled, disbelief dripping from every word.
It had been years since Uchiha Kagami's death. Since then, no Uchiha had gotten close to Konoha's core leadership. The clan had been sidelined, their influence quietly strangled.
But Jinzō? This "trash" everyone looked down on?He was the one breaking back into the system?
Fugaku's expression twisted. He could accept anyone from the clan getting that chance. Anyone but Jinzō. The idea that this stain on their crest could carry the Uchiha name into Hokage's inner circle was almost insulting.
"The facts are right here," Jinzō said, slouching into a chair across from him. "What's wrong? My being Jiraiya's student getting in your way? If it bugs you so much, go whine to Konoha directly instead of pestering me."
Fugaku's jaw tightened. He looked down on Jinzō, sure. But Jinzō looked down on him just the same.
The air between them went still. Two Uchihas staring each other down, neither willing to blink first.
Finally, Fugaku broke. "…The elders want to see you."
"When?"
"Now."
Jinzō frowned. He'd never dealt with the clan elders before. Honestly, he hadn't planned to, either. But if they were this rattled by his new status, then avoiding them forever was impossible.
"Fine," Jinzō said, standing. "Lead the way."
Naka Shrine.
Torches burned in high stone pillars, throwing firelight over a circle of old men seated like judges. Their faces were shadowed, but their eyes—those blood-red Sharingan—glared down at him, three tomoe spinning with lazy menace.
Standing in the center, Jinzō felt their pressure pressing down on him harder than Orochimaru's killing intent. It wasn't murderous. Just suffocating.
The elder at the head of the chamber finally spoke."Uchiha Jinzō. Twelve years old, and your eyes remain unopened?"
Jinzō lifted his chin, unfazed. "Not exactly something you can just flip on like a light switch, you know."
Normally, the Sharingan awakened between ages twelve and sixteen. Earlier meant genius. Later… usually meant never.
For the Uchiha, nothing mattered more than those eyes. Talent without Sharingan meant nothing.
"Presumptuous!" one elder barked. "You dare dismiss our bloodline like it's trivial?!"
Jinzō ignored him. His attention was on the man in the main seat: Uchiha Hōka, the Great Elder. A relic from the Warring States Era who had survived every uprising and still clutched power like it was his birthright.
"Enough," Hōka snapped, silencing the others. His Sharingan bore down on Jinzō."Uchiha Jinzō. For the sake of the clan, you will monitor the Hokage family's movements."
The death of Uchiha Kagami still left questions. Hōka didn't trust the Hokage. Unless Uchiha became Hokage, they needed eyes in close.
Jinzō's reply was instant: "I refuse."
The chamber erupted.
"You dare?! Do you forget whose blood runs in your veins?!""You disgrace the clan's name!""Throw this selfish brat out of the compound!"
Their fury crashed down on him like a wave, but Jinzō just smirked.
All his life, he'd felt nothing from the clan but cold shoulders and ridicule. The so-called warmth of Uchiha was reserved only for "geniuses." For him? Just sneers.
So why should he bend now?
Jinzō sneered, voice sharp as steel. "You want me to waste my life babysitting the Hokage family, lose their trust, and gain nothing in return? Are you senile, old man? Or just that pathetic?"
His words landed like slaps. The chamber seethed.
Hōka's face flushed red, decades of composure shattering. "You…!"
Jinzō tilted his head, half his face lit by firelight. "If that's all you've got, I'm done here. Don't bother calling me again. I wouldn't want Jiraiya thinking I was wasting my time with a bunch of bitter fossils."
The sound of chair arms splintering echoed as more elders crushed wood under furious grips.
Hōka's voice roared over them. "Don't forget, boy! Everything you have—your safety, your growth, even Jiraiya's recognition—you owe it to the name Uchiha!"
Jinzō laughed coldly. "Wrong. My abilities are my own. My growth came from my parents. Jiraiya's acceptance had nothing to do with this clan. And don't fool yourselves—you don't represent the Uchiha name. You're just trash hiding behind it."
With that, he turned and walked out, leaving only the sound of his footsteps and the furious silence behind.
The elders sat there, boiling. One finally slammed his cane. "Absurd! Only Madara himself has ever dared speak to us that way!"
Another grunted. "Don't worry. Jiraiya will see through him soon enough. When he realizes this boy has no talent, he'll cast him aside. And then Jinzō will learn what it means to defy the clan."
Their rage lingered long after Jinzō was gone.