Deep within the Uchiha compound, Uchiha Setsuna sat cross-legged in a dimly lit tatami room, his fingers absentmindedly tapping the cold floor.
The turbulence stirred by Konoha's high command was clear in his eyes.
Hiruzen's intentions were obvious—suppress Kamiyama Ryo.
That brought a subtle sense of regret to the depths of his heart.
Back then, he had pushed the clan's jewel, his own granddaughter Mikoto, toward Ryo. What he valued was Ryo's monstrous talent, his potential bright enough to light up the entire shinobi world.
He believed that strength like that could not be wasted on outsiders.
If Mikoto could become Ryo's wife, the Uchiha clan's return to Konoha's power core would be within reach.
For that goal, he had even gone so far as to pressure Uchiha Fugaku, then a candidate for clan head, to stay away from Mikoto.
That move was not wrong.
Ryo had indeed lived up to expectations. His name now echoed throughout the shinobi world, shining brilliantly.
But Setsuna had underestimated Hiruzen's tolerance.
No, perhaps it shouldn't be called tolerance.
If their roles were reversed, and he were the one sitting in the Hokage's seat, faced with a teenager possessing such terrifying strength and such an overbearing personality, he would be sleepless as well.
A powerful individual, even without any intention of seizing power, posed a threat to those in authority. An uncontrollable threat.
Ryo's unreserved dominance was something Setsuna could see clearly.
He had lived too long, an ancient relic who had crawled out of the blood-soaked Warring States Era. He understood these things too well.
Uchiha Madara was powerful, powerful enough to rival the God of Shinobi. Yet in the end, even he was forced out of Konoha.
Ryo may be strong, but could he truly surpass Madara at his peak?
Even if Ryo had no desire for the Hokage seat, what about those around him?
Take Setsuna himself, for example. He would never let go of the chance to push Ryo toward the position of Hokage.
But Hiruzen was still in his prime. He remained at the peak of his power. Once someone tasted authority, they would never willingly relinquish it.
Setsuna, who held a large portion of the Uchiha clan's influence, knew the potency of that poison all too well.
He had bet too early. He should have bet on both sides.
Fugaku should not have been dismissed so soon either.
Now, it was too late for regrets.
Setsuna's gaze sharpened. The Uchiha must sever ties. Immediately. Abandon Ryo and move forward with a new plan.
Only this way could the clan avoid being treated by Hiruzen as a thorn in his side.
Fugaku had just assumed the position of clan head. His foundation was still weak. He needed the elder's support and wouldn't dare oppose him.
So, when Konoha's army returned victorious, Fugaku pestering Mikoto in the crowd had been permitted by him.
Mikoto being placed under house arrest was also at his direction.
That foolish girl still dared resist? She was truly bewitched by Ryo, to the point of discarding the clan's interests?
All that etiquette training for a future bride had gone to waste?
But the Uchiha were a clan of love. The deeper the love, the stronger the obsession. Setsuna knew this truth better than anyone.
Only by completely isolating Mikoto, and arranging her marriage to Fugaku, could everything be resolved.
Mikoto would turn sixteen this year. The marriage arrangements could begin.
As for Ryo?
A cold smile tugged at the corner of Setsuna's mouth. This was the Uchiha compound, the core of Konoha.
Would Kamiyama Ryo dare charge in here? No matter how strong he was, could he stand against the entirety of Konoha? Could he ignore the village's laws?
What Setsuna failed to consider was one crucial fact. Madara's downfall was due to the presence of a suppressive force above him—Senju Hashirama.
But Ryo?
Looking across the current shinobi world, who could restrain him? Who could rival him?
Those who hadn't reached that level of power could never understand.
For someone like Ryo, like Madara, like Hashirama, numbers meant nothing.
No matter how many ants gathered, they could never bite through the scales of a dragon.
Stop him?
Maybe Ryo had not yet reached the peak of Madara or Hashirama, but in today's Konoha, there was no one who could prevent him from doing whatever he wanted.
Setsuna had miscalculated.
On the west side of the Uchiha compound, in a secluded courtyard, the windows and doors were tightly shut.
Inside, Mikoto knelt at a low table, her expression calm but her eyes staring blankly at the small square of sky beyond the window. Her face was pale, yet deep in her gaze burned a flame of stubborn defiance. The elegant meal on the table was almost untouched.
"Mikoto-sama, please eat." came the flat voice of a guard from outside.
Mikoto didn't respond. Her fists clenched inside her sleeves.
House arrest. Just because she was a pawn in the clan's power struggle with Ryo? Just because Setsuna's scheme had failed, she had to sacrifice her feelings for Ryo?
She couldn't forget the figure of Ryo on the battlefield. Couldn't forget the rare tenderness he showed only to her. That strength, wrapped in gentleness, had completely captivated her.
"Fugaku-sama is here." The guard's voice called again.
(To be Continued.)
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