No one spoke.
Not the villagers who had gathered to watch.
Not the clan heads standing at the edge of the grounds.
Not even the shinobi who had survived the war.
Toyoma's words still hung in the air—heavy, inescapable.
Yamanaka Inoichi felt his throat tighten as he looked at the scene before him.
The silence, the stares, the accusation woven into Toyoma's words—nothing made sense.
He stepped forward, voice calm but strained.
"What do you mean by that, Toyoma?"
His eyes hardened.
"Why would my clan do something like that?"
Toyoma heard Inoichi's question and answered without hesitation.
"That," he said calmly, "is exactly why the Uchiha are here."
His gaze swept across the gathered crowd.
"To learn why a member of the Yamanaka clan entered Uchiha territory."
His voice hardened.
"Why did he attack the child of an elite jōnin who is currently risking his life for this village?"
Toyoma then turned, his eyes locking onto the three figures standing together.
The heads of Ino–Shika–Chō.
"And if you believe," he continued, "that the Uchiha are here to beg for an explanation—because we fear the village's opinion—then let me make one thing clear."
The temperature of the air seemed to drop.
"Even if the entire village turns against us today…"
His Sharingan burned as he finished the sentence.
"Not a single person bearing the name Yamanaka will live to see tomorrow."
Silence followed.
The villagers who had come to watch now felt true fear settle into their bones.
This was no longer a dispute.
Something irreversible had begun.
Inoichi did not move.
He couldn't.
For a single moment, his mind went completely blank—no techniques, no formations, nothing.
Just Toyoma's words echoing again and again, each repetition heavier than the last.
Not a single person bearing the name Yamanaka will live…
That wasn't anger.
That was a verdict.
Inoichi had lived through war.
He had stood on battlefields where the ground was soaked in blood, and screams never seemed to end.
He knew the sound of empty threats, the bravado of men trying to intimidate their enemies.
Toyoma's voice had none of that.
It was calm.
Certain.
Final.
And that terrified him more than shouting ever could.
Inoichi felt the eyes of the villagers pressing into his back. He could almost hear the unspoken accusations forming in their thoughts.
This is your clan.
Explain yourself.
Fix this.
But how could he explain something he himself didn't understand?
An attack… inside Uchiha territory? On a child?
Impossible.
Madness.
And yet Toyoma wouldn't have spoken those words publicly without certainty.
The Uchiha didn't move without proof—especially not now, when every action was being watched, judged, and recorded.
Inoichi's heartbeat quickened despite his training.
If he's right…
No.
He forced the thought away, but it clawed back immediately, sharper than before.
If he's right, then this isn't a misunderstanding.It's an execution waiting for permission.
For the first time in years, Inoichi felt something dangerously close to helplessness.
Mind techniques were useless here.
Politics was crumbling.
Authority meant nothing to a man who had already decided the cost was acceptable.
And the worst realisation of all settled into his chest like cold iron.
The Hokage might not be able to stop this.And neither might we.
Inoichi inhaled slowly, schooling his face into calm even as panic churned beneath it.
Because if he showed fear now—
Toyoma would smell it.
And once the Uchiha decided fear was all that remained between them and blood…
There would be no turning back.
Toyoma's voice cut through Inoichi's thoughts once more.
"We didn't come here with accusations," he said coldly."We came with proof."
He raised his hand.
The Uchiha holding the prisoner stepped forward and forced the man down onto his knees, pushing him into the open.
"Look at him," Toyoma continued."Tell me—isn't he your cousin?"
Inoichi's breath caught.
The man's face was swollen, streaked with dried blood.
One eye was nearly shut, his clothes torn and stained.
But even like this—
Inoichi recognised him.
"Now tell me, Clan Head Yamanaka," Toyoma said, his gaze unwavering, merciless."What was Yamanaka Kuroto doing inside Uchiha clan territory?"
Toyoma's eyes burned as he took a step forward.
"Why did he attack a child?"
Silence followed, thick and suffocating.
"Or," Toyoma added quietly, each word heavier than the last,"Is this part of something your clan is planning?"
The pressure in the air became unbearable.
Every eye in the courtyard turned toward Inoichi.
This time—
There was no escape.
Yamanaka Inoichi did not respond immediately.
His eyes remained fixed on Toyoma, but his mind was racing far faster than his expression allowed.
Years of leading a clan had taught him one rule above all others—
Never react first when the ground beneath you is shifting.
Beside him, Shikaku exhaled slowly.
Not in relief.
In calculation.
That wording… Shikaku thought.So this is how the Uchiha chose to play it.
Toyoma had not accused an individual.He had not named Root.He had not even demanded punishment.
He had said clan.
And that single choice of word changed everything.
Shikaku's eyes flicked briefly to the villagers gathered around them—to the way whispers had already begun to spread, twisting into narratives faster than truth ever could.
If Inoichi denies it outright, it looks like panic.
If he accepts it, it becomes admission.
Either way, the Yamanaka were now standing on exposed ground.
"Inoichi," Shikaku said quietly, just loud enough for the two of them, "don't answer that yet."
Inoichi's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly.
"I know," he replied under his breath.
Choza shifted beside them, his massive arms crossed, eyes narrowed. "That boy," he muttered, "he knew exactly what he was saying."
"Yes," Shikaku agreed. "That's the problem."
Inoichi finally drew a breath and stepped forward.
"Toyoma," he said, his voice steady, controlled, "those are serious words."
The crowd leaned in.
"A clan cannot be judged by the actions of a few," Inoichi continued. "If you have evidence, present it. If individuals committed crimes, they should be dealt with by the village."
His gaze sharpened slightly.
"But to speak of massacres and ancient rules…" he paused, choosing each word carefully, "is to drag the entire village back into a past we swore never to repeat."
The silence that followed was tense—but not empty.
Shikaku watched Toyoma closely.
Now comes the response, he thought.This is where either bridges are burned… or terms are set.
What worried him wasn't Toyoma's expression.
It was the Uchiha behind him.
They were listening.
Not for orders.
But for direction.
And for the first time since the village was founded, Shikaku felt something deeply unsettling—
The rules everyone thought were permanent were being renegotiated in real time.
Toyoma listened without interruption.
He did not react when Inoichi spoke of individuals.He did not react when the village was mentioned.
Only when the word past was spoken did his eyes shift—just slightly.
"Interesting," Toyoma said at last.
His voice was calm, almost conversational.
"You say a clan cannot be judged by the actions of a few."
He nodded once, as if acknowledging the logic.
"I agree."
A ripple of confusion passed through the crowd.
Shikaku's eyes narrowed.
Toyoma continued, "If this were the actions of a few, we would not be standing here."
His gaze moved—not accusing, not emotional—simply deliberate.
"Recruitment of civilian shinobi does not happen by accident," Toyoma said.
"Surveillance inside a clan does not happen without access. And targeting the families of shinobi deployed at the front…"His eyes hardened."That requires knowledge."
He paused.
"Knowledge your clan possesses."
The murmurs grew louder.
Several villagers exchanged uneasy glances, the word civilian spreading like a spark through dry grass.
Inoichi stiffened.
Toyoma raised a hand slightly—not to silence them, but to slow the moment.
"You speak of evidence," he said evenly.
"I have living evidence among civilian shinobi," Toyoma continued."And I also have a dead Aburame."
The reaction was immediate.
A low gasp rippled through the villagers, whispers surging as faces paled.
Even Choza's brow furrowed deeply, and Shikaku's calculating calm faltered for a brief, dangerous instant.
"So tell me," Toyoma said, his voice unwavering,"Should I assume this was a plan involving both of your clans?"
He gestured once toward Kuroto.
"But I did not bring him here to condemn your clan."
That drew attention.
"I brought him here," Toyoma continued, "to show restraint."
The word landed heavily.
"In the Warring States Period, the Uchiha would not have spoken," Toyoma said. "We would not have asked for an explanation. We would have erased the threat at its root."
The air felt colder.
"But this is not that era," he went on. "And so we came openly. We came visibly. We came without drawing blades."
Toyoma met Inoichi's eyes.
"That is the difference between past and present."
Silence followed.
Then Toyoma delivered the line that mattered most.
"This is not punishment," he said evenly."This is a notice."
A notice that:
Lines had been crossed.Patience had been exhausted.And precedent was no longer enough to protect anyone.
"You fear being dragged into the past," Toyoma said."Then ensure your clan never creates a future where that becomes necessary."
He stepped back.
Not as a retreat.
As finality.
The crowd did not speak.
Neither did Inoichi.
Because everyone present understood something now—
Toyoma was not asking the Yamanaka to defend themselves.
He was giving them a chance to survive the consequences.