Knock. Knock. Knock.
The door to the office echoed with a steady rhythm. Fugaku Uchiha called out for the visitor to enter.
It was a squad captain from the Military Police Force—someone familiar, both his face and chakra signature well-known to Fugaku.
"What is it?" Fugaku asked.
"Captain," the man said with a grave expression, "the village leadership has voiced strong objections to how our Police Force has been handling disputes."
The higher-ups?
Fugaku frowned deeply. The leadership's dissatisfaction with the Uchiha was nothing new. As for the supposed complaints from villagers… he knew it was just an excuse.
We just aided the Fourth Hokage yesterday, and already these people can't wait to bare their fangs?
He accepted the report from the man and scanned it quickly.
But in the very next instant—
Splurt!
A kunai pierced straight through Fugaku's chest. Blood gushed down in heavy drops.
The sudden ambush left him stunned.
Impossible…!
"You… you're not Jiang—"
"You… who are you really…?"
Struggling for breath, his words came ragged, but the man's face was already half-covered by a creeping, black substance. A twisted grin spread across it.
"Who am I? By seniority, I'd be your third great-uncle. A descendant of Indra, an Uchiha… and your eyes, I'll be taking them."
The voice was low, gloating, and cold.
Fugaku's strength ebbed rapidly as his pierced heart faltered. The disguised figure's body shifted, white bark-like flesh merging into its true form—a White Zetsu clone.
A kunai sliced across Fugaku's throat.
Splurt!
His windpipe and artery were severed in one stroke. A spray of blood erupted, soaking his body in crimson.
"Ghhk… gghrrk…"
Fugaku's mouth worked, trying to form words. But every breath filled with the metallic taste of his own blood. Nothing emerged but gurgles.
The black half of the invader drove its hand into his face, gouging out both eyes. Blood cascaded down his cheeks as his world went dark.
From the ground, a white mass rose up, wrapping around the black substance. Slowly, inch by inch, the darkness receded, melding together like sludge with the pale figure.
In its hand gleamed two glass jars: one containing Obito's Sharingan, and the other, Fugaku's freshly torn pair.
"As Madara's chosen pawn, Obito cannot die yet. That space-time Mangekyō cannot be left in Konoha. So… you must die here, current Uchiha clan head, Fugaku Uchiha."
Thud!
A kunai drove into Fugaku's ruined eye socket, piercing his brain. His body convulsed once, then stilled forever.
Black Zetsu and White Zetsu began to sink into the earth.
White Zetsu chuckled. "No need to rush, is there? I wanted to ask him what it feels like when the urge to relieve yourself hits."
Black Zetsu hissed back, "Minato and that Mangekyō Uchiha just left. We need to rescue Obito immediately. Someone in this village already knows of our existence—otherwise Obito would not have failed. Move!"
Ten minutes later.
Terrified shouts erupted from the Police Force headquarters. Minato Namikaze and Shisui Uchiha, who had only just left, rushed back at once.
What they found was gruesome.
Fugaku lay in a pool of blood, his Sharingan stolen, his corpse already cooling.
The prison cell where Obito had been sealed was empty.
"Damn!" Shisui dropped to his knees and tore open a hidden compartment beneath the desk. Inside had been locked the night before—the Mangekyō Sharingan eye he and Fugaku placed there. Now, it too was gone.
"So there was an accomplice after all," Shisui muttered bitterly. "To infiltrate Konoha without detection… to assassinate Captain Fugaku without sound or trace. Hokage-sama, could it have been…?"
He did not finish.
But Minato already knew the unspoken name: Uzumaki Sora.
The mysterious figure who intercepted Obito's right arm yesterday, wielding the Flying Thunder God with such familiarity… Was he the same shadowy informant from the intelligence network?
Yet if judged by their brief encounter, that person had clearly leaned toward protecting the Uchiha. If so, why assassinate Fugaku? His strength was not weak.
A medical-nin arrived, reporting clinically:"Hokage-sama, Captain Fugaku died from massive blood loss caused by a kunai slashing his artery and trachea. Judging by the posture of the corpse, it resembles suicide. However… the kunai through the brain was definitely delivered by an enemy."
"Suicide?" Minato frowned. Fugaku taking his own life was unthinkable. No, this reeked of a jutsu—an ability similar to the Nara clan's shadow techniques, manipulating the enemy against their will.
As for the kunai to the brain—such methods were common in the Third Great Ninja War. Each village had secret arts designed to target the brain, extracting crucial intelligence from fresh corpses.
But still… Uzumaki Sora?
Based on Shisui's description, that man had no strength to speak of beyond the Flying Thunder God and sheer reflex speed. Against Fugaku, he might wound, but to control him so completely? Impossible.
Unless… it was all a ruse. Could "Uzumaki Sora" be nothing more than a disguise?
"Summon the Barrier Corps," Minato ordered. "I want a full report on the village barrier's condition. Assign an elite jonin squad with sensory-nin for immediate pursuit. Shisui—you'll lead an ANBU team to follow and support."
The Hokage's personal ANBU vanished in a flicker. Shisui, unsettled, obeyed and departed as well.
In his heart, he was troubled.
With Fugaku dead, the Uchiha clan had lost its leader.
The doves and hawks within the clan would clash violently over succession. And if the hawks seized leadership…
Deep underground, in a hidden cavern.
Obito sat recovering, his right arm already restored.
He slipped a Sharingan freshly into place and demanded, "Who leaked my intelligence to Konoha? And Kakashi's eye—where is it?!"
White Zetsu's mocking voice answered:"Uzumaki Sora. I saw it myself when you were captured. You looked pretty pathetic, Obito."
Smash!
Obito's fist shattered the wooden table beside him."If not for Kakashi—the bastard used my own eye against me—damn him!"
Fury and humiliation poured out of him, his body trembling with rage.
Black Zetsu materialized silently, handing him a scroll."Hashirama's cells, the Mangekyō Sharingan—their secrets are no longer hidden. This scroll is Madara's gift to you. Study it well. Within it lies the power you need."
White Zetsu offered a glass container, inside gleamed Fugaku's three-tomoe Sharingan."The late clan head's eyes. Quite nice, don't you think? I hear Uchiha genjutsu shine brightest with the Sharingan."
Obito stared at the objects in his hands. His Sharingan spun furiously, tomoe swirling faster and faster.
Power…!
Only with true power could he capture the Tailed Beasts. Only with power could he launch the Eye of the Moon Plan.
And only with power could he crush the one lurking in the shadows—Uzumaki Sora.
Three days later.
Konoha. The funeral of Fugaku Uchiha.
Dressed in black, Uchiha Shion stood silently before the memorial stone. Fugaku's death… he had not foreseen this.
He had long abandoned worrying about "original timelines." But the chaos awaiting the Uchiha clan was obvious.
With Fugaku gone, Itachi was barely five years old—still a year away from even entering the Academy. Far too young to inherit the role of clan head.
As for Shisui… with Kotoamatsukami, if persuaded, perhaps Fugaku's death might even serve a greater purpose.
"The Fourth Hokage had barely left the Police Force, and the Captain was assassinated…"
"The tracking squads and ANBU returned with nothing…"
"Shisui's team as well—the enemy vanished without a trace…"
"To disappear like that… during the war, didn't the Fourth kill fifty enemy shinobi in an instant with some space-time jutsu?"
"Only the Fourth can use that technique…"
"Is Konoha planning to erase the Uchiha? We founded this village. We are its rightful heirs!"
"Our Captain is dead… we have no chance left…"
"Silence! Don't speak such things carelessly!"
Around Shion, voices of the clan buzzed with suspicion and grief.
He frowned faintly.
In the "original" history, Fugaku never wanted rebellion, yet was dragged into it by the clan's swelling anger. Now, without Fugaku's moderating presence, things would spiral even faster.
As for Shion… defection didn't matter much. But as someone from the modern world, who had grown accustomed to peace—and good food—life in Konoha was still far preferable.