"Lord Madara was already head of the clan by the time I was old enough to remember," Setsuna began, his voice filled with reverence.
"My elders told me he had been the Uchiha leader since the Warring States Period. Back then, under his command, our clan became one of the strongest in the shinobi world. Only the Senju could match us."
He leaned forward, clearly carried away by memory and admiration.
Naturally, as a devout admirer of Uchiha Madara, Setsuna couldn't resist embellishing the tales. But even through the exaggeration, he was careful not to insult the Senju outright. Instead, he spoke of Madara's conquests over countless other clans, recounting entire battles with vivid detail, though much of it was secondhand lore passed down by his elders.
Every victory was Madara's. Every defeat belonged to someone else except, of course, that one fateful loss to the 'God of Shinobi,' Senju Hashirama.
The younger Uchiha listened wide-eyed, their pride swelling as if Madara's glory belonged to them personally.
When Setsuna moved on to the founding of Konoha, he shifted the story again. In his telling, Madara had been unfairly denied the Hokage's seat, cheated out of his rightful place by backroom manipulations of the village leadership.
He was careful, however, never to name anyone. After all, the disciple of one of those very 'leaders' still held power, and recklessly pointing fingers would only bring unnecessary trouble.
In truth, Hashirama's rise to First Hokage had been by sheer popular demand even some within the Uchiha had supported him. Other clans had never trusted Madara; his fierce and domineering nature terrified them.
If he had been given the Hokage's hat, the fragile alliance might have splintered before Konoha ever had a chance to stand.
Hashirama, who loved the village more than himself, would never gamble its survival just to elevate his closest friend.
Even so, Tobirama's constant undermining had deepened the rift between Madara and Hashirama, turning distrust into enmity.
Setsuna's version painted Madara as a tragic hero—driven out, misunderstood, and forced into opposition not because he hated Konoha, but because he sought justice. Even his later battle with Hashirama and use of the Nine Tails, he claimed, wasn't about destroying the village outright.
"If Madara had truly wanted to annihilate Konoha," Setsuna declared, "he would have summoned the Nine Tails directly inside its walls. But he didn't. He faced Hashirama on the battlefield instead, man to man. That was not the act of a destroyer, but of one demanding fairness."
The words rang through the square, and the clan drank them in.
Of course, the truth was less romantic. Madara had been shunned, but not to the extreme Setsuna described. Still, for someone with Madara's pride and temperament, even small slights were intolerable.
Tobirama's sharp tongue and deep suspicion had only made things worse. To Madara, Tobirama may have been the true enemy, while Hashirama remained the friend he loved and hated in equal measure.
Fugaku and the other senior Uchiha nodded along, lending authority to Setsuna's narrative.
The rank-and-file ninja accepted it wholeheartedly. Shinobi were cunning in battle but often far more simple in politics. More importantly, this version of events was the one they wanted to believe.
No Uchiha wished to see their greatest leader remembered as a traitor. Better a misunderstood hero than a villain who turned on his own home.
Pride demanded it.
And people always choose the version of truth that allows them to stand tall.
Gen, standing quietly amidst the crowd, could not help but feel satisfied. This was exactly what he had hoped for. By reclaiming Madara as a symbol of pride instead of shame, the clan's unity had only grown stronger.
A clan that understood its past and stood tall in it, would not be so easily manipulated by the higher-ups of Konoha.
If some called it 'narrow clan loyalty,' so be it.
Gen's view was simple; the village had been created to protect the clans, not the other way around. Sacrifice might be noble if it was voluntary, but it should never be demanded as policy.
When Setsuna finally finished and the murmurs died down, Fugaku rose to his feet. His voice was steady and solemn.
"Uchiha Gen has rendered great service to the clan. He uncovered the mastermind behind the Nine-Tails' attack, fought him alongside Lord Orochimaru, and returned our sacred heirloom, the Uchiha war fan. Such contributions cannot go unrewarded. Does anyone object?"
"None!" the square roared back in unison.
Their gazes turned toward Gen, filled now not only with respect but reverence.
Gen bowed his head slightly, speaking humbly. "Clan Leader, elders, I only did what any of us should. There is no need—"
Fugaku cut him off with a firm wave. "No. If we fail to honor such deeds, then what meaning will rewards hold for anyone else in the future?"
Gen froze, then laughed lightly at himself. He dropped into a deep bow, nearly ninety degrees. "You're right. That was thoughtless of me. My apologies for almost ruining the standard that lets us all prosper together."
The crowd chuckled at his humility. Some even teased him, and Gen responded with good-natured smiles.
If his favorability with the clan could be measured, it had soared to nearly the maximum. Shisui and young Itachi, in particular, looked at him with unshakable loyalty.
Fugaku, Mikoto, and the elders exchanged quiet glances. What they saw tonight only confirmed their thoughts; Gen's charisma and his ability to win hearts was what true leadership required.
Yes. Among all the Uchiha, Gen was their best chance to see one of their own rise to Hokage.
As the chatter settled, Fugaku turned back to the elders. "Then let us decide here and now what form Gen's reward shall take."
The discussion began immediately, serious and deliberate.