The private chamber where Uchiha Fugaku and Mikoto had spoken moments before was now an open ruin. Sunlight streamed into the exposed space, illuminating the scene without obstruction.
Uchiha Mikoto stood to the side, unharmed but pale with shock. Uchiha Fugaku, however, was a different sight entirely. He lay sprawled amidst the wreckage, limbs akimbo, covered in a fine layer of plaster dust—a far cry from the dignified, stern patriarch. His authority lay shattered among the broken beams.
The Uchiha clansmen who had rushed to his aid stopped short, their faces a mixture of concern, confusion, and poorly concealed disbelief. The contrast between the composed leader they knew and the disheveled man before them was jarring.
Fugaku scrambled to his feet, his face burning under their collectively strange gaze. A low, dangerous growl rumbled in his throat.
"WHAT ARE YOU ALL STARING AT? GET BACK!"
His roar was that of a cornered beast, lashing out in humiliation. His eyes, wide and furious, swept over the crowd, making several onlookers flinch and look away.
---
"It's been a few years."
An indifferent, youthful voice cut through the tension. All eyes turned to Mikami, who stood calmly amidst the debris. Seeing Fugaku's furious, disgraced posture, he chose to fan the flames.
"Now this," Mikami said, his tone dripping with mock admiration, "is a true patriarch. The very pillar of the Uchiha clan. A sight to inspire us all."
"YOU! You wretched little—!" Fugaku's gaze snapped down, landing on Mikami's impassive face. Rage blinded him. He bit back the insult that leapt to his tongue—cursing his own son would only compound his shame. Instead, he glared at the ruins around them, his murderous intent thickening the air. "Did you do this?!"
"As you can see," Mikami replied with a light shrug, his eyes cold and mocking. "Uchiha Fugaku, if you have something to say, say it plainly. I don't have time to listen to you shriek."
"Is that how you speak to the father who gave you life?!" Fugaku hissed, his voice dropping to a venomous whisper that scraped against the ears of all who heard it. Only the presence of the crowd held back his immediate, violent impulse.
"Father?" Mikami feigned surprise, tilting his head. "Oh, Father. So you do remember you have a son. How… unexpected."
He drew out the last word, letting the sarcasm hang heavy in the air. Everyone understood.
Fugaku's face turned a mottled shade of purple. He took a deep, shuddering breath, forcibly regaining a shred of his composure. "I will not waste words on you. One month from now, you will report as a shinobi of the Uchiha clan to support the war effort on the front lines."
He waved a dismissive hand, a grim, anticipatory smile touching his lips as he envisioned Mikami's fate.
"Do not resent us," Mikoto whispered from the sidelines, her voice trembling with suppressed emotion. "It is… necessary."
Mikami's expression did not change. His dark eyes remained locked on Fugaku. He had expected this. The strained relationship between the Uchiha and Konoha's high command was an open secret. Fugaku's promise to send clan members to the Third Great War was largely fulfilled with cannon fodder—the untalented, the expendable. A so-called failure like him was perfect for the role.
"And who gave you the right to decide that for me?" Mikami asked, his voice dangerously calm. "My answer is still no."
"Then the only path left for you is death!"
Fugaku shed the last pretense of civility. His pupils shifted rapidly, morphing into the chilling crimson of the Sharingan, three tomoe spinning slowly. A killing intent, cold and sharp as a winter gale, swept through the assembled crowd, pressing down on them with suffocating weight.
Silence fell, thick and oppressive.
The Uchiha clansmen wore varied expressions, but most held a grim acceptance. This was the way of their world. The weak must accept the dictates of the strong. To resist was to be crushed by the relentless gears of the shinobi system. This truth was not unique to the Uchiha; it was woven into the fabric of the entire ninja world.
"Is that so?"
Mikami's lips curled into a wild, untamed smile—an expression of pure, eager defiance that seemed utterly out of place on his young face.
"Is he insane? He dares to challenge the Patriarch?!" murmurs rippled through the Uchiha ranks. Fugaku's strength was unquestionably among the highest in the clan. In a family that revered combat prowess above all, only the strongest could lead.
"You arrogant brat!" Fugaku snarled, his face contorted. "I was blind before! I didn't see you for the viper you are!" To be publicly challenged by a ten-year-old "failure" was an unprecedented humiliation in the history of the clan, perhaps the entire shinobi world.
Observing Fugaku' apoplectic state, Mikami's expression grew thoughtful, then unnervingly sincere. He looked directly at the clan head and offered a reassuring nod.
"A patriarch shouldn't be so afraid of death. Don't worry. I've learned from your example. I won't kill you."
Uchiha Fugaku: "…"
The surrounding Uchiha clansmen were left utterly speechless. Where, they wondered in collective disbelief, did this 'failure' get the confidence to say such a thing?!