After pointing out Yashiro and the others' mistakes, Uchiha Yoru went further and helped them analyze who actually needed help.
He explained what kind of help each person required, what taboos had to be avoided, which resources were readily available, and which ones required extra effort to obtain.
But once it came down to actual implementation—
There were simply too many details.
Yoru went on and on for hours.
By the end, Uchiha Yashiro and the others had spiral eyes from information overload, on the verge of dozing off.
To be honest—
Uchiha shinobi were fundamentally unsuited for this kind of work.
They were too straightforward, terrible with words, and all of them had explosive tempers.
Even when doing something good—
They could still offend people to the point of resentment.
And when it came to mediating disputes—
The kind where right and wrong weren't clearly defined—
The Uchiha's complete lack of tact meant they could offend both sides at once, turning two arguing parties into a united front against them.
Looking at it that way—
The Konoha Police Force really did feel like a pit dug specifically for the Uchiha by Tobirama Senju.
The job was far more suited to the Ino–Shika–Cho trio—
The Nara clan's intelligence, the Yamanaka clan's insight into people, the Akimichi clan's easygoing nature, combined with solid combat ability—
They could handle anything properly.
Even handing it to the conservative Hyuga Clan—
Or even the simple-minded Inuzuka Clan—
Would have been far better than giving it to the volatile Uchiha.
The difference was like heaven and earth.
No—
Compared to the Uchiha, everyone else might as well be heaven.
By the time evening fell, Yoru finally saw Yashiro and the others off.
After closing the door, he let out a quiet sigh.
Some things simply couldn't be changed.
Nature was hard to alter.
If they weren't suited for it, they just weren't suited for it.
And with hardliners like Uchiha Setsuna leading the charge—
All it took was a few reckless actions from them to ruin everyone else's efforts.
Yoru knew from the beginning—
Today's effort was mostly wasted.
But it was still necessary groundwork.
After the surge of his restless heart the previous night, his thinking had begun to shift.
"…Why shouldn't I take control of the Uchiha clan myself…?" he murmured.
"What are you saying, meow?"
Miwa Masayo leapt onto his shoulder.
She seemed to have just woken up. Arching her back, stretching her body, her white-gloved paws spread open like blooming plum blossoms—
An irresistibly tempting sight.
No… not yet. The relationship isn't there. I can't touch the paws. Endure it.
He let out a dry laugh.
"I was just saying… with the Police Force under Uchiha control, it's very difficult to reverse the current situation."
"Meow… yeah, that's impossible. Totally unsolvable, meow. Wait—you said 'unless.' You actually have a way?"
"I have… a way that isn't really a solution."
Unless—
He stepped forward himself and directly took charge of Yashiro's division.
He had the ability.
He could handle every issue in Konoha properly.
He could resolve problems while also managing people's emotions—
And completely turn around the reputation of both the Uchiha clan and the Police Force.
He was confident in that.
But that wasn't the real problem.
If he stepped out—
He would become the symbol of change within the Uchiha.
And also the primary target of enemies both inside and outside the clan.
He would have to fight the hardliners within the clan.
Clash with the clan head, Fugaku Uchiha, who was rigid internally but compromising externally.
Guard against Danzo Shimura's schemes and assassinations.
And even compete with the Hokage for influence over people's hearts—
Miwa Masayo shuddered.
"Meow… you'd die first for sure."
"Yeah," Yoru said calmly. "I'd definitely die first."
"So I can't do that. And I won't stand at the front of that fight."
But controlling the Uchiha doesn't require being the one in the spotlight…
I can guide things from the shadows. Shape ideas. Cultivate someone suitable—
And let them become my 'white glove.'
Just as he was thinking about who could replace Fugaku Uchiha as clan head—
"Yoru, I'm hungry, meow."
The soft voice of the little cat instantly swept away his darker thoughts.
Rolling up his sleeves, he smiled.
"I talked too much today. I'll make something quick."
"Good, meow. Hurry, meow."
Yoru quickly washed rice and set a pot to cook.
Even for a simple meal, a carnivorous cat still needed meat.
Luckily, there was leftover boiled chicken from lunch.
He minced it while the rice cooked.
Then he pulled out a block of dried bonito—hard like wood—and shaved it rapidly with a kitchen plane.
Thin flakes fell in piles.
As they touched the air, the deep, savory aroma of the sea spread out—
Hooking both human and cat senses instantly.
Gulp.
Both of them swallowed at the same time.
Their stomachs rumbled in protest.
This smell is lethal… No wonder it's high-grade bonito from the ninja world. Nothing from my previous life compares.
Soon, the rice finished cooking.
He mixed in the diced chicken, added a splash of soy sauce for flavor and color, then stirred everything evenly.
Finally, he scattered the bonito flakes across the light brown rice.
The heat rising from the rice intensified the aroma even further—
Making it impossible to resist.
As they devoured the meal, the rich scent drifted out—
Immediately drawing complaints from the neighbors.
"That brat Yoru is shaving bonito again. Does he have too much money?"
"Ever since he contracted with a ninja cat, he buys bonito every three months. That tiny piece costs as much as a family of four's monthly food expenses. What a waste."
"Idiot, that's a ninja cat. And Yoru's already a shinobi. Of course he can afford it."
"…That's true."
"Tarou, Sonoko, Odagiri, Nagasawa—you all need to work hard too. Once you graduate from the Academy and become shinobi, you'll earn plenty of money. You can eat whatever you want."
"Yes! We'll work hard!"
Yoru and Miwa Masayo ignored the outside chatter.
They simply focused on enjoying their meal.
By the time they finished—
The entire pot of rice was gone.
"Full… so comfortable, meow."
After resting for a while and finishing a cup of tea, Yoru began cleaning up.
About half an hour later—
Miwa Masayo was suddenly lifted by the scruff of her neck, her limbs curling instinctively as Yoru carried her out the door.
"What are you doing, meow?"
"Going for a run."
"No! My happy time isn't over yet!"
"Rika-chan… haven't you noticed you're getting fat? If you don't exercise, you'll turn into a little pig, meow."
"Don't call me that!"
"Fat… meow… meow?! MEOW?!"
Two hours later—
"I can't… I'm dying, meow… can't run anymore…"
"Yeah. Ninja cats aren't known for endurance. That's enough for today. Rest well, Rika-chan."
"You're still going?"
"Mm. I'll keep running a bit. No weights today, so I'll make up for it with time."
"…Why are you suddenly working so hard, meow?"
Yoru's expression grew slightly serious.
"Because if I don't… I'll be in danger."
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