The third floor of Konoha's Police Force Building was quiet except for the echo of footsteps in the hall.
Uchiha Gen stopped before the Deputy Minister's office and knocked three times, each tap steady and measured.
A voice answered from inside.
"Come in."
He pushed the door open, stepped in, and closed it softly behind him. Crossing the room, he bowed slightly toward the man at the desk.
"Young Clan Leader."
Fugaku glanced up. "Gen is here. No need to be so polite. Relax a little, sit."
Gen smiled faintly but didn't loosen his posture. He took the seat opposite Fugaku, back straight, hands resting neatly on his knees. If a superior told you to be casual and you actually obeyed, you were a fool.
The Uchiha weren't as rigid as the Hyūga, but they were still the most powerful clan in the shinobi world. Etiquette wasn't optional. Disrespecting the rules, or your elders, was asking for trouble.
"Young Clan Head, what did you want to discuss?"
"I followed your idea and spoke with Minato," Fugaku said. "Today, he gave his answer."
Gen's lips curved. "Minato-senpai didn't choose me, did he?"
Fugaku's brow lifted. "You already know?"
"I guessed."
"Oh? How?"
"If I'd been chosen, you would've congratulated me the moment I walked in and your smile wouldn't have been forced."
A small chuckle. "You're observant. As expected of an excellent shinobi."
In truth, Gen was bluffing. His certainty came not from observation, but from knowing exactly what kind of man Fugaku was. A leader who avoided shouldering blame when it could be shifted elsewhere.
No matter how carefully he dressed up the proposal to Minato with offers like the Sharingan, there was still a quiet threat in it. If Minato refused to compromise, tension with the clan would be inevitable. And if that happened, Fugaku would make sure the idea's origin pointed to someone else, namely, Gen.
Besides, Shisui's broad vision and Fugaku's own hopes for Itachi made the choice obvious. For a future Hokage's disciple, blood came before clan loyalty.
It didn't bother Gen. His idea had been calculated from the start; it was better suited to his own path than Minato's anyway. Orochimaru could offer things far more valuable to him; especially when it came to the evolution of the Sharingan.
Normal evolution through emotional trauma would be difficult for him. He had the Soul–Soul Fruit, a unique advantage that might allow him to bypass the standard method entirely.
If the Sharingan's growth came from mental stimulation producing special chakra in the brain, then perhaps the soul could be manipulated to influence the mind directly and trigger that evolution.
But he couldn't test it on himself. Too risky.
For something so delicate, he'd need others. And no one in the shinobi world surpassed Orochimaru in scientific research. With his guidance, Gen might carve out a completely new path — one only he could walk.
Fugaku's voice broke his thoughts. "Don't be too disappointed. We still have Lord Orochimaru."
"And who becomes Hokage is still uncertain," Gen replied.
"It doesn't matter," Gen continued calmly. "We're all Uchiha. Everything is for the family's good. By the way… have you spoken to Lord Orochimaru yet?"
"Not yet," Fugaku admitted. "He's just returned to the village. I planned to send a letter in a few days."
Gen leaned forward slightly. "If I may... I should speak to him first, on behalf of the clan."
"Why?"
"Speed. And secrecy. I'm a much smaller target than you. If we court both candidates too openly, it'll look bad — and draw unwanted hands to interfere. Minato's side is already in the light. Let Orochimaru's side remain in the dark."
Fugaku considered this, nodding slowly. "That makes sense. Very well; Do it your way. And be generous in your offer. We Uchiha won't be made to look stingy."
In that moment, Gen could almost feel the weight of the clan's wealth radiating off Fugaku like heat from a forge. If he had a system for burning money into power, he might have been tempted to rob his own leader.
He settled for a confident nod. "Rest assured, Young Clan Leader — I won't bring shame to our name."
After all, who didn't know how to look and act rich?