When a group is held together by blood, unity comes naturally.
But when a group depends on power and control, cracks eventually form no matter how perfect the system appears.
This is why many clans struggle to fully blend into a village, especially when that clan is quietly pushed aside.
Managing the relationship between a village and a clan is delicate; handled well, peace thrives, mishandled, and conflict is inevitable.
Right now, the bond between the Uchiha clan and Konoha resembles a frozen lake.
Calm on the surface, unknown fissures spreading beneath.
Still, none of this concerned Uchiha Hayashi at the moment.
He was, in his own eyes, still a small fry.
Yes, he had earned the title of "Konoha's hero," but even that only made him a slightly bigger small fry.
Other than influencing smaller figures like Nawaki and Minato, he held no real sway over anyone.
If he wanted to change anything, he would have to become Hokage someday.
But for an Uchiha, how hard was that?
Decades of village history proved the answer: nearly impossible.
Four generations of Hokage, more than fifty years of Konoha, even after Minato's death in the original timeline, the idea of an Uchiha Hokage had remained a distant dream.
And with the elderly Third Hokage returning to power, the message to the clan was painfully clear:
It will never be you.
So wanting to become Hokage was hard.
Wanting to become an Uchiha Hokage was like randomly meeting a beautiful girl on the street who instantly falls madly in love with you—possible, but so unlikely it may as well be fiction.
Hayashi pushed those thoughts aside. Right now, he wanted only one thing:
A proper night of sleep.
The rising sun washed Konoha in warm light, giving everything a peaceful glow.
A village without the demand of immediate combat always felt strangely tranquil.
Hayashi walked slowly through the streets, stopping now and then as a comfortable feeling washed over him.
It wasn't accurate to call it "nostalgic," but after surviving the battlefield, returning alive brought a subtle wave of emotion.
Konoha was the same as always, unchanged in the ways that mattered.
For most villagers, war was nothing more than a distant concept.
Who Konoha fought, how it progressed, who they lost—few truly understood.
Victory was symbolic to them, spiritual at best.
When Hayashi returned home, he immediately noticed something odd.
The house wasn't nearly as messy as it should have been.
Even after months away, the bedding and furniture were mostly dust-free.
Someone had cleaned.
Just as he was about to sit down, the moment his weight touched the chair, it collapsed completely.
Hayashi blinked, rubbed his eyes, then stared at the broken pieces.
There were visible traces of glue along the joints.
Someone had tried to fix it just enough to hide the damage.
Terribly.
There was only one culprit capable of this kind of "help."
Kushina…
The little red-headed fox had probably done her best, but her "best" tended to be chaotic.
Hayashi could only pray she hadn't destroyed too much of his already limited furniture.
After a sigh, he washed up briefly and dropped onto his bed.
He intended to sleep until he woke naturally, something he considered the true luxury of life.
Long, uninterrupted sleep was the secret to growth, after all.
But luxuries remained luxuries.
He had been asleep barely ten minutes when loud, rapid knocking echoed through the house.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
Hayashi pulled the blanket over his head and tried to ignore it.
The knocking continued relentlessly.
Fine. They win.
He yanked the door open, irritation clear on his face.
Standing outside was an Anbu wearing a fox mask.
Anbu?
Hayashi frowned.
Did the Third Hokage need him again?
"Excuse me, Uchiha Hayashi-sama."
Hayashi raised an eyebrow.
"Sama…? That's new."
Since when were Anbu polite?
Normally they just used Body Flicker to appear inside your home and treated you like an obstacle in a crime scene.
But not anymore.
A hero of Konoha couldn't be treated casually, and Anbu certainly wouldn't barge into Sakumo-sama's home—so they wouldn't dare with Hayashi either.
"Is something wrong?" Hayashi asked, still half-asleep.
"This is from the Hokage-sama."
The fox-masked Anbu respectfully handed over a scroll, then vanished instantly with Shunshin no Jutsu.
Hayashi walked back inside, puzzled.
Another mission?
He had no idea that the Third Hokage had already sworn never to assign him anything above B-rank again.
He unrolled the scroll.
"…What…?"
Inside were two brand-new Jonin flak jackets.
Alongside them, a registration card:
Uchiha Hayashi — Special Jonin
A Special Jonin was still a Jonin.
Not full rank, but undeniably elite.
Given Hayashi's age, Hiruzen had slowed the promotion slightly, but even so, it was shocking.
Hayashi had graduated from the Academy in June.
It was now late September, nearly October.
In just a little over three months, he had gone from fresh Genin to Jonin-level.
It was unprecedented in Konoha's entire history.
Few could match his achievements:
Two A-rank missions completed before graduation, several A and B-rank missions during wartime, and battlefield merits impressive enough to rival seasoned shinobi.
Most Chunin never killed Jonin-level opponents.
Even fewer survived encounters with tailed beasts.
Keeping someone like Hayashi at Chunin rank during wartime would have been wasteful.
Just as he thought the surprises were over, a small sealed scroll rolled out of one of the tool pouches.
Hayashi picked it up. A single line of text was written:
"To Konoha Jonin Uchiha Hayashi:
Due to your outstanding performance and extraordinary contributions in the Land of Rain, Hokage grants you permission to choose one technique from the Scroll of Seals as a reward."
Hayashi stared at it.
This was genuinely… an unexpected gift.
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