"Seal the Caged Bird… with another seal."
The moment the idea fully landed, Hyūga Hizashi's breath caught.
A curse mark reinforced by a sealing technique. A curse that could no longer be activated. A shackle rendered inert.
For generations, the branch family had obsessed over one question: how to remove the Caged Bird. No one had ever considered burying it instead.
What did they truly hate about the seal?
Not the pain.Not even the threat of death.
It was control.
The ability of the main family to reach into their skulls at will.
If the seal could no longer be triggered, if it could no longer be sensed, then the cage still existed—but the door was gone.
A problem that could not be solved… made irrelevant.
Hizashi felt as if an entirely new world had opened before him.
"Thank you, Yoru-kun," he said hoarsely, lowering himself into a formal kneel once more. "If this succeeds, the Hyūga branch family will stand under Orochimaru-sama."
It wasn't a tentative promise.
It was a full commitment.
Uchiha Yoru accepted it with a calm smile."Please, Hizashi-san. Orochimaru-sensei has always believed the divide between the main and branch families is needlessly cruel. He may be ruthless to enemies, but he is generous to his own."
He delivered the line smoothly, without the slightest hint of embarrassment.
Hizashi exhaled slowly, forcing his emotions back under control.
"The branch family will never forget this."
If the branch family were ever to survive independently in Konoha, they would need leverage. The Hokage was beyond reach, but the next Hokage was not.
Backing Orochimaru meant opportunity. Political room. Resources carved from other clans. A chance, one day, to stand as a true Hyūga clan again.
"This matter is too sensitive to spread," Yoru said evenly. "Once there's progress, I'll inform you."
"Is there anything you require?" Hizashi asked immediately. "The branch family will do everything we can."
They were already all-in. Hesitation no longer existed.
"Funding," Yoru replied without pause. "Your visit won't escape notice, especially with certain eyes fixed on the Uchiha. Financial support makes a convenient cover."
Hizashi nodded at once.
"And the Caged Bird's original sealing records," Yoru added. "Those are essential."
"I'll bring both next time," Hizashi said firmly.
Only funding was valuable enough to justify a personal visit. It was the perfect excuse.
Yoru escorted him out personally, maintaining a cordial expression until Hizashi vanished into the snow. Only then did the smile fade.
Time was tightening.
Orochimaru's momentum hadn't slowed. If anything, questions about the Fifth Hokage were growing louder. Someone, somewhere, was getting impatient.
Yoru looked up at the snow drifting over Konoha and let out a quiet breath.
"If there were a choice," he murmured, "being a simple, powerful shinobi would be far easier."
The new year settled in with fresh snow.
Uchiha Yoru was sixteen now, standing just under six feet tall. His build had sharpened into something lean and efficient, shaped by relentless taijutsu training. Speed over brute force. Control over spectacle.
At the Police Force headquarters, he returned to work with the same calm professionalism as ever.
Outside, Gekkō Hayate waved lazily at Uzuki Yūgao. They knew each other well enough—but neither knew the other's true role.
Yūgao forced a smile.
"Yūgao," Hayate said softly, concern creeping into his voice. "I heard your father left behind a lot of debt. Are you… alright?"
They'd been classmates for years. Hayate came from a declining shinobi family but still had inherited resources. Yūgao had nothing but talent and reputation.
"I'm fine," she replied.
The sadness in her eyes betrayed her.
The truth was absurd. Her father had never gambled. The debt was fabricated—part of an ANBU cover identity. And because of it, even her neighbors had begun to distance themselves.
Hayate clenched his fist, frustrated by his own powerlessness.
"If you need help," he said quietly, "my family still has assets."
Yūgao shook her head at once."I can handle it."
If Hayate paid off her "debt," her entire cover would collapse.
He watched her walk inside, the words he wanted to say left unspoken.
He never knew that this hesitation would cost him dearly.
Inside his office, Yoru rested with his eyes closed—not out of laziness, but preparation.
In his courtyard, four versions of himself moved in silence.
One practiced swordsmanship, cutting falling snowflakes with precise, economical strikes. The other three sat cross-legged, refining chakra nature transformation.
Shadow Clone training was efficient—but brutal.
The fatigue compounded. Without exceptional physical and mental recovery, it was unusable. Even then, its limits were strict.
It wasn't a miracle tool. It was a scalpel.
Back in the office, Yūgao delivered the day's files.
"Three genin were detained after causing a disturbance while drinking last night. They require approval for punishment."
Yoru scanned the report.
"Light discipline," he said calmly. "Compensation to the tavern owner. Then release them."
Yūgao nodded, unsurprised.
"Allocate surplus funds to frontline shinobi," Yoru continued. "Priority to those with financial hardship. Performance-based."
"And increase food procurement while prices are stable. Add extra allocations to the orphanage."
His decisions came fast. Clean. Balanced.
Where others saw endless headaches, Yoru saw systems.
When Uchiha Shisui entered and witnessed the scene, admiration flickered across his face.
The same disputes that gave him migraines were resolved here with a few sentences.
No resentment. No backlash.
Both sides walked away satisfied.
Now he understood why Orochimaru trusted Yoru with everything.
This wasn't just power.
It was governance.