A thin rain drifted across the village when Yoru stepped out from the Uchiha district. Shisui waited for him under a cedar tree, clearly having stood there awhile.
Yoru pretended nothing was unusual and strolled over with casual ease. "What's so important that Konoha's prodigy had to come find me himself?"
Shisui only smiled. He drew a sealed scroll from his pack and offered it forward."Yoru-nii, the council signed off on this. Your jutsu scroll and the funds you requested. We leave tomorrow at six, outside the village gates."
Yoru accepted the mission report with a small sigh. He understood the clan's urgency—desperation, even—but he also knew this entire political gamble rested on uncertain ground.
Shisui hesitated before speaking again, his tone more serious. "Yoru-nii… if things are settled on your side, at least for now, stay clear of her. The clan is under scrutiny. Getting too close to outsiders could drag her into trouble."
Yoru raised an eyebrow. He couldn't resist the jab. "Shisui, someday when you have a girlfriend, you'll understand."
Shisui stared at him, dumbfounded. Yoru was only a year older, yet somehow spoke like a veteran of life's disasters.
The two of them crossed the forest in silence, landing lightly on rooftops until they reached the temporary housing the Uchiha had been assigned. After the Nine Tails attack, the Police Force had been hit particularly hard, and the village used the chaos as justification to push the clan to the outskirts.
Inside his small quarters, Yoru unsealed the scroll.
Two B-rank ninjutsu.Refined instructions for training the Sharingan.Notes on chakra control, visual strain, and risk thresholds.
Even within the clan, some of these teachings required clearance. Sharingan ability wasn't purely about awakening—it had to be built, strengthened, honed. Two shinobi might both have three tomoe, yet their ocular force could differ drastically.
Yoru skimmed the techniques with interest. Compared to the meticulous internal clarity he'd gained upon awakening his eye, the clan scrolls felt like a slower, steadier road. Thorough, but not tailored.
He kept reading—until the final seal lifted.
His expression sharpened.
"A-rank… Chidori."
He hadn't expected that. A jutsu crafted by Hatake Kakashi himself—an elite thunder-style spear thrust designed to be completed only with the clarity of a Sharingan. Rare even among jonin. Rare in the entire village, given how few possessed lightning affinity to begin with.
He exhaled quietly.
"So this is how they justified letting Kakashi keep the Sharingan. A gesture of goodwill… or payment in kind."
It made sense. The Uchiha couldn't simply shrug and say the eye was returned because of Minato. They needed their own gesture—something that didn't cost them politically yet appeared meaningful.
Kakashi's signature jutsu, shared in good faith, solved the issue neatly.
"No wonder no one objected when he later taught it to Sasuke," Yoru murmured. "The groundwork was already there."
He activated his single tomoe, letting the world sharpen. The scroll's ink shimmered with reactive seals—proof against theft. Without a Sharingan, the diagrams would display incomplete or misleading movements.
Only now did the true instructions reveal themselves.
He committed each transition to memory.
…
Dawn had barely touched the eastern ridge when ninja began gathering at the main gate. Teams assembled, exchanged brief words, and leapt away as blurs across the treetops.
"Yoru-nii, over here."Shisui beckoned him forward.
The younger shinobi grouped behind them—eight Uchiha assigned to this escort-and-support mission. The moment they appeared, several jonin outside the clan cast glances their way—tight, guarded, heavy with unspoken suspicion.
Shisui stepped ahead, voice low. "We're heading for the border near the Land of Waves. Orochimaru-sama is commanding the front line there."
Yoru unrolled the mission scroll, eyes narrowing with thought. "So this is our clan's message."
After the Nine Tails attack, Konoha's losses had shaken its stability. Minato was gone. The borders were restless. Other nations were probing for weakness.
In that volatile climate, the Third Hokage's return to power was more necessity than politics.
And the Uchiha?Forced relocation.Surveillance.Distrust made official.
If the clan wanted the village to reconsider its stance, they had to demonstrate reliability. Strength in service of Konoha, not in defiance of it.
This mission was the first signal.
"We support the village," Yoru murmured. "And the Third sends us to the most strategic front. Both sides are testing the waters."
Shisui nodded, the tension in his shoulders easing. "If we can show we're still part of Konoha, maybe things will change."
Yoru offered a quiet smile. "Orochimaru-sama is holding two major nations at bay. Standing under his banner isn't exactly the worst assignment."
Shisui's grin was faint but real. Hope, at least, was breathing again.
Behind them, their squad adjusted gear and checked weapons—eight Uchiha shadows preparing to depart.
This was the first step in rebuilding—or perhaps rewriting—the future.