Konoha Village.
Uchiha Compound.
It was the height of the Third Great Ninja War.
At this point, the Uchiha had not yet been pushed to the outskirts of the village. On the surface, they still held prestige—respected, feared, and vital to the village's infrastructure.
They controlled 90% of all law enforcement duties, involved in nearly every matter of internal security.
For over a decade, the war raged on, yet the Uchiha were largely untouched—until the end drew near.
With pressure mounting at the front lines, the Third Hokage requested the Uchiha's support.
Believing they'd be cleaning up and collecting easy merit, the clan sent a squad—only to later receive devastating news: the unit had been ambushed. Nearly everyone was killed.
When Uchiha Fugaku heard this from Setsuna's mouth, he froze.
Then the implications hit him—his prestige, already fragile, would be shattered. He immediately called a closed meeting with his loyalists.
Seated on a tatami mat in his study, Fugaku raised a cup of sake, barely sipping it, eyes scanning those gathered.
"Lord Clan Head… you mean there's a traitor in our ranks?" asked Uchiha Tetsuka, one of his confidants, still unaware of the full picture.
"Is it about the front lines?" another, Uchiha Inada, speculated. "Elder Mei was your closest supporter. He couldn't have betrayed us."
"He's dead," Fugaku replied. "Nearly the entire unit we sent is dead. Only two survivors remain—and they're now wanted by the village."
"Wanted?! Then someone among them must have defected! We must distance ourselves immediately, or the village will hold you responsible. And if they drag in the Police Force, it could jeopardize the entire clan!"
Inada panicked.
The Uchiha had rebelled before. Every such incident festered mistrust. If this situation wasn't handled quickly, the village would initiate another investigation—another purge.
Last time, that's exactly how it began.
And like every time the clan was threatened, the dove faction's first instinct was always the same: appease the village, seek negotiation, defuse the threat.
Fugaku himself was a product of that appeasement. He held no true power base.
He'd risen only with the Third Hokage's backing, placed atop the clan after Setsuna's failed insurrection.
The village cracked down hard afterward. Many of the hawks were conscripted to the Second Great War—and never returned.
Those who survived became elders like the Fifth Elder—silent, docile relics.
By the time the village realized the cost, the hawks were all but gone.
That's when the Hokage picked a young, malleable Uchiha graduate from the Academy: Fugaku.
A figurehead. Meant to stabilize, not to lead.
And now, he had to play leader.
"I tried," Fugaku said flatly. "The village wants us to hand over Uchiha Shisui and Uchiha Rin."
The moment he spoke those names, silence hit like a slap. Faces paled.
"That's absurd! We can't turn over our own!" Tetsuka was first to object. He'd spent his life trying to rebuild trust with the village, to wash away the shame of past betrayals—but even he had a line.
Then he paused.
"…Wait. Is this part of a broader deal?"
"The village wants cooperation," Fugaku admitted. "And we must send another unit to support the front against Iwa."
Konoha's forces were depleted after years of war.
They couldn't afford open conflict with the Uchiha—not yet.
"I'm going myself," Fugaku continued. "While I'm gone, you must guard the clan. Don't let Setsuna seize this opportunity."
He paused, gauging their reactions.
"This clan meeting will select one hundred Uchiha to join me on the front lines. If those two fugitives return, capture them immediately and turn them over to the village."
"Not to the prison?" Tetsuka asked.
The prison was Uchiha-run. Turning someone over there was protection in all but name.
Fugaku said nothing.
That silence was confirmation enough.
"Understood, Lord Clan Head." Inada thumped his chest.
His promise eased Fugaku's worries. Inada, second only to Setsuna in seniority, was once the face of the dove faction. If he agreed, the clan would follow.
As long as they avoided open conflict with Konoha, the doves would remain in control.
The next day, the clan assembly began as planned.
But not the way Fugaku wanted.
Before it even started, Setsuna made his move.
He announced the annihilation of the frontline unit.
Shisui and Rin were orphans—few ties, little grief—but the other fifty dead? They came from vital families. Their deaths sent shockwaves.
Setsuna organized a memorial before the meeting even began.
He gathered the clan at the Uchiha Shrine, draping the sacred grounds in mourning.
What was meant to be a closed-door high-level conference had become something else entirely—an open assembly.
The whole clan came. Every available member.
Fugaku didn't see it coming.
By the time he realized what had happened, it was too late.
He stood at the edge of the shrine, staring at the sea of black-clad mourners.
His head throbbed.
"Elder Setsuna…" he muttered, barely holding a fake smile. "Perhaps next time we could discuss these things beforehand?"
Setsuna glanced at him, unconcerned.
"The village didn't inform you?" he said. "I received the bounty notices already. Strange… You're the Clan Head…"
He clicked his tongue.
"When our kin die, we honor them. It's our duty."
Then he clasped his hands behind his back and turned, walking away.
"That old bastard…"
Fugaku clenched his jaw, teeth grinding as he watched Setsuna's back disappear into the crowd.
But he couldn't waste time fuming.
He had to contain this—before it spiraled into something he couldn't stop.