Uchiha Hachidai's body was a bloody mess, crisscrossed with cuts from Seiji's Muramasa.His desperate Ash Explosion Jutsu had scorched his wounds shut, leaving his skin caked in crusted brown scabs. Once a dignified, sharp-looking veteran, he now looked like some half-dead deserter dragged out of a battlefield corpse pile.
He collapsed to his knees. Blood loss left his brain foggy, and the crushing weight of Seiji's presence dragged him deeper into memories, blurring reality with hallucination.
In his eyes, the Seiji before him—clutching a bloodstained Muramasa, Sharingan glowing scarlet—looked exactly like the portrait of Uchiha Izuna his grandfather used to speak of.
Back in the Warring States Era, Izuna had subdued clan troublemakers just like this—calm, unshakable, dismantling them not just in body but in spirit. He beat arrogance into humility and welded the clan into something stronger. Stern, merciless, yet… impossible not to respect.
And now… Hachidai realized the boy in front of him wasn't a boy anymore.
Twelve years old or not, Seiji already carried the physique of a grown shinobi—long arms, narrow waist, broad shoulders. The sharp Uchiha features cut into a coldly handsome mask, the Senju bloodline giving him size and strength, the Sharingan making him look almost unearthly. Paired with Muramasa still dripping blood…
When Hachidai had stepped onto this field, he thought Seiji was still just a brat.Now? He wasn't sure what he was staring at anymore.
Seiji walked toward him, expression flat.
And panic hit Hachidai like a kunai to the gut.
If Seiji had fought only in Tobirama Senju's style, Hachidai could've endured. Tobirama was the enemy of all Uchiha; even beaten bloody, Hachidai would've spat in his face and kept his pride intact.
But Seiji's image had blurred into Izuna's—his own clan's idol, his own grandfather's voice echoing in the way this boy lectured while fighting.How could he bear to resist that?
He felt like a child caught sneaking sweets, bowing his head as grandfather scolded him. Even if punished, even if humiliated, there was no shame in yielding to family.
"Uchiha Hachidai," Seiji said coldly, each word heavy, "you've disappointed me. A veteran with three tomoe, yet you've shown me nothing but failure."
He fed fire chakra into Muramasa. The blade erupted in a roaring crimson flame, scorching the ground wherever it pointed. Each of Seiji's steps left blackened marks in the dirt.
"…He really does look like him," Tobirama muttered under his breath, a rare flicker of awe slipping through.
He remembered the tales of Izuna's brutal charisma, how he broke rebels within the Uchiha to cement his authority. Tobirama himself had even copied some of those tactics after his father's death.Invite them in, chop off their heads—figuratively or literally—then collar what's left.
And right now, Seiji wasn't swinging to kill a body. He was chopping the head off Hachidai's pride.
For the first time, unease curled in Tobirama's chest.Over the past few days, he had eased his guard toward Seiji. The boy's kindness toward Rin, Guy, and Ikkaku had made him seem… almost safe.But watching him now? If another Izuna was truly born among the Uchiha, Konoha was in danger.
And then Seiji lifted his other hand.
Water chakra spun into a vicious torrent, shrieking with pressure as it coiled into a blade of pure current. The Hard Vortex Water Blade—one of Tobirama's personal secret techniques.
Tobirama froze. He studied the boy for a long time, then finally snorted, "…Tch. I'll watch a little longer, brat."
By then, Seiji was standing over Hachidai. His tone was flat, merciless:"Who I am doesn't matter. What matters is that you've betrayed the Uchiha's honor. Tell me, Uchiha Hachidai… what should I do with you?"
His burning Muramasa slid to Hachidai's throat. The water blade spun inches from his chest, fast enough to tear him apart in an instant.
Hachidai swallowed hard, staring up at the boy he couldn't read, his voice cracked and small."I… I don't know. I don't know…"
"If you want to live, then you answer what I ask."
The fire vanished. The water blade dispersed. But Muramasa's edge pressed into his throat, the steel so close it brushed his skin.
Hachidai didn't doubt it for a second: if Seiji hated his answer, he would slit his throat here and now.
"Who sent you? What was the goal? And why did you accept?"
"…Elder Setsuna forced me," Hachidai admitted, trembling. "He said your words and your existence would ruin the clan's spirit. He told me to put you down—and to avenge Uchiha Obito as well…"
"And you agreed. Why?"
Hachidai's voice broke into anger. "Because Konoha has gone too far! Their restrictions, their surveillance—it's blatant now! They won't even allow us the slightest chance to become Hokage! Our clan's future is nothing but chains. So yes—I sided with the Hawks!"
Seiji nodded slowly. "The Hawks, huh… A fitting name."Then he asked, "Tell me, who's stronger—you or me?"
Hachidai dropped his gaze. "…You are."
"And me, compared to Hiruzen Sarutobi?"
Seiji tilted Muramasa up, lifting Hachidai's chin until their eyes locked.
Hachidai grit his teeth, but he couldn't lie. "…Don't underestimate the Third. He's the man they call the Professor of Ninjutsu."
To his shock, Seiji nodded in agreement. "Good. And me compared to Danzo, Jiraiya, Orochimaru, Tsunade, Minato, Kushina, Sakumo Hatake, or Mito Uzumaki?"
Hachidai froze. Each name was a mountain in Konoha's history. Legends. Monsters.
Seiji was strong—far stronger than he'd expected. But not that strong.
"And tell me," Seiji pressed, voice slicing like the blade at his throat, "in the entire Uchiha clan, who surpasses those names? Who among us is stronger than me?"
"You claim to support the Hawks. But with what strength, Hachidai? With your precious three tomoe?"
His gaze was filled with bitter disappointment—like a teacher staring at a student who wasted his potential.