By the time they reached the third target, dusk had already bled into night. Three fights behind them, a full day of hard running in their legs, Kenshi raised a hand and signaled to make camp. No one talked much through dinner. They were tired, and they were waiting. Everyone could feel it.
Renji stood, walked to the fire, and pressed his boot down until the flames guttered out.
"You're wondering why I killed our own village's shinobi," he said quietly. "Why I was set on it."
He looked at each of them. Retsu's face was open and serious. Yan listened with that steady, measuring gaze. Kenshi's brows were knit, as if tasting the words before they came.
"Before I answer, hear how I see the clan and the village," Renji continued. "Uchiha and Senju built Konoha together. Then our founder looked at what Konoha was becoming and tried to lead the clan away. Our people refused. No one wanted to go back to the Warring States, where children died and war never ended. They turned their backs on Madara."
Renji's voice didn't rise. It grew steadier.
"He and Hashirama fought at the Valley of the End. Madara fell. The First lost his life soon after and passed the title to his brother, Tobirama. Ask yourself something. If your brother were slain by a man from another clan, how would you treat that clan? Even if they hadn't all followed him. Even if they stayed loyal to Konoha."
His eyes reflected the last embers.
"We were marked. 'A cursed clan.' 'Madmen.' If even their leader was insane, how could the rest be stable. And then, without the God of Shinobi to steady the world, the First Shinobi War came. If you were a Konoha shinobi whose family died in that war, what would you think? No Madara, no war. No war, no graves."
"Tobirama still feared Uchiha, and under chaos he couldn't move openly. So he handed us the Police Force. On paper it's power. In truth it locks us inside the village. We stop taking missions unless there's a war, we live apart, we police civilians and minor clans. We act fair and keep our heads high. But to those we police we become bullies. We grow up surrounded only by our own. By the time we reach jōnin, we've built almost no bonds beyond the clan. How do you think others treat us in the field?"
Retsu and Yan leaned in despite themselves. Kenshi's eyes lowered, considering.
"When Tobirama died," Renji said, "the guards brought back word that he named Hiruzen Sarutobi as the next Hokage. Would the Senju believe it? The guard platoon had Uchiha, Sarutobi, Shimura, Akimichi, Koharu, Mito… but no Senju. There was no body, no formal succession. And the village was built by Senju and Uchiha. If a choice existed, it should have been between them."
"The clan's hopes rose around Uchiha Kagami. He had the strongest claim. And then, to avoid civil strife or for some promised bargain, he publicly supported Hiruzen and withdrew. Call it diplomacy if you want. To us, it was betrayal. That was our one clean chance to change our fate."
"Hiruzen became Hokage. Small clans took the reins. If your base is weak, what do you do? You cut down the tallest trees. He weakened both Senju and Uchiha at the root, built an advisory ring to eclipse the clan elders. The advisors came from the old guard platoon, but not Kagami, not the Ino–Shika–Chō patriarch Akimichi Torifu. And in the First War, the first Uchiha to die was Kagami himself. The clan that lost the most was Senju."
Renji's tone stayed calm, but the words hit like stones.
"Mito Uzumaki could have sheltered Senju and let them rise again. What did the regime do? When Uzushiogakure called for help, Konoha reacted late and sent a token force. The greatest sealing clan in the world was destroyed. Our very forehead protectors bear their spiral. Their symbol of 'tied fates.' And we let them die. Why do so many Uzumaki survivors refuse Konoha's embrace? Because they remember."
"Hiruzen courted Mito's favor by making Tsunade a student, but what did he teach her? Not her techniques. Politics dressed as kindness. She bet the Senju's last strength on his wars. In the Second War the clan was shattered. A prince of Senju 'died in an explosion without organs left.' Convenient."
Renji's eyes lifted to the sky. A chill moved across the camp.
"Who's left above the small clans? Mito… and Uchiha. Mito was old and made into the foundation for suppressing us. If she goes, who's left to balance Uchiha? No one."
"Shinobi across the world already say it: at the same level, one on one, Uchiha are unmatched. So how do you deal with that? Make geniuses disappear. Groom a few pliable prodigies as friendly faces. Smile and talk of Will of Fire while you thin the blood."
He turned back to the others.
"Root belongs to ANBU and yet not. It belongs to Danzo. He champions the 'Uchiha threat' and has hounded us for years, stirring rumors and turning the village mood against us. I believe some of our missing prodigies died by his hand. We're alive because people like Kenshi, Nobunaga, and the clan shielded us."
"Our enemy was never the other villages. It's right behind us, inside our walls. That's why I killed those Root operatives. If there's a chance to weaken an enemy, we take it. No matter how small."
He breathed once, slowly.
"The Uchiha don't change their fate by compromise. We fight. Peace is the goal, but struggle is the road. Peace is relative. Struggle is constant. If you want real peace, you win it. So remember this: seek peace through struggle and peace survives. Seek peace through compromise and peace dies."
The words hung in the night air.
Kenshi had expected to hear about revenge for the ambush during their survival test. Instead he found himself staring at a nine-year-old who spoke like a man carrying decades of clan history on his back. It was unnerving. It was also convincing.
Retsu broke the silence first. "I don't know how you know all that. But I'm with you." He slung an arm around Renji's neck, tugging him closer with a lop-sided grin. "I'm simple. People who treat me right, I treat right. I can't read the village like you do, but I'm not blind. I see the looks. We're brothers. I back you."
Yan thought for a time. "Cutting off feathers weakens the hawk, but it still flies. If the Hokage faction truly means to erase us or break us into harmless pieces, the real blade sits in the council chamber. You're not wrong. But we should move quietly. Force a rupture too early and we'll be cornered with no leverage. Killing some Root is fine. Just don't paint a target on our foreheads."
Kenshi exhaled and stood. "You kids. Since when did the Academy start teaching this." He looked at Renji. "You don't know this part. When your team was formed and sent on that first 'survival training,' the high council came to watch."
He lifted a hand and counted off.
"Three waves. Nine shinobi in total. Three jōnin, six genin. Six were Root. The rest ANBU. We killed the Root. The ANBU withdrew and watched from range. You didn't notice because we shielded you. Your father was there, Renji. He believes in making peace with the village, so Nobunaga put him on your detail."
Kenshi's voice softened.
"We sent seven three-tomoe to guard three kids. The clan values you. But you're still weak. Until you have strength and standing, keep talk like this between us. Otherwise you'll be dismissed as hot-blooded children, or worse. Train. Grow. I believe your future belongs to you."
He held Renji's gaze. "And that line you said… seek peace through struggle… that one reached me. Sleep. Tomorrow, finish the mission."
Night deepened. Renji couldn't sleep. He sat on a rock outside the tents, watching the last coal fade.
Yan came over and sat beside him. "Your plan is dangerous," he said, almost conversational.
"One mistake and we fall forever. But the clan is already stuck in the swamp. I'll help you. I'm not fit to bargain with the elders yet, but I can play my part."
He glanced back toward the tents. "Kenshi brought Ze. That wasn't just about training. You understand what that means. Allies matter as much as strength. Only once we can speak for the clan do we have the right to play this game. Let it end with us. Let the next generation grow up in real sunlight. The Will of Fire sounds beautiful, doesn't it."
Renji smiled without humor. "Beautiful. If it isn't used to burn us."
They sat together in the quiet a while longer, until the forest swallowed their words and only the steady breath of sleeping shinobi remained.
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