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Qianyu leaned against the wall of an old apartment building.
This was where Naruto lived. Since the boy was still too young, Hiruzen Sarutobi had assigned an Anbu operative to care for him.
Logically, Qianyu didn't need to be here. He already had snakes posted around Naruto's place, watching. He'd even placed that Anbu caretaker under a genjutsu. Naruto was safe by every measure.
But Kushina couldn't settle. She'd asked Qianyu to check. Just to confirm.
So he confirmed, then left for home.
Back at their house, Kushina immediately contacted Miyuki Uzumaki through their rings, reporting Naruto's condition. These days, Kushina contacted Miyuki almost daily—updates on Naruto, then checking in on Miyuki herself.
Qianyu had gotten used to it.
Standing at the sink washing vegetables, he overheard their conversation. His eyebrow twitched.
"Don't worry about Naruto, Miyuki," Kushina's voice chimed from the ring. "Qianyu just checked. He's perfectly fine. How are you doing over there?"
"Everything's smooth here. Just left a gambling den. Grabbing a bite now."
"Huh? A gambling den? You went gambling?"
"Of course not. It was Shindai and the others. I was just watching. You know I can't gamble, Kushina."
Just as Kushina was about to dig deeper, other voices spilled from the ring—Shindai and his crew.
"Hey, Miyuki! Is Qianyu with Kushina right now?"
"Whatever you do, don't let Qianyu know we lost all the money!"
"Yeah, if he cuts off our funding, we're screwed!"
Miyuki's frequent calls meant Kushina and Shindai's trio had grown familiar with each other.
…
Qianyu's eyelid gave a violent twitch. He wiped his wet hands on a towel, walked over, and sat beside Kushina. He plucked the communication ring from her finger.
"Too late," he said, his voice flat. "I heard everything. Explain."
Shindai's dry laugh crackled through. "Ah, it's nothing! Just a little friendly bet. Small stakes. Very small."
Qianyu ignored him. "Miyuki. Tell me. Who paid for the meal you're having right now?"
Before the trio could intercept, Miyuki answered. "I did."
Cold sweat beaded on Shindai's, Yōkō's, and Raigā's foreheads, even miles away.
Qianyu rubbed his temples. A headache was brewing. "So. The operational funds I send you periodically… you gambled it all away?"
"No, no…" Shindai's voice was strained. "Just… a little…"
"How much do you have left?"
"We still have plenty!" Shindai's declaration lacked all conviction.
"Is that so?" Qianyu's voice turned icy. "I've been sending funds every three or four months. If you have plenty, then I suppose you won't need the next installment."
"Wait, no!" Three panicked voices overlapped. "At least a little! Please!"
Qianyu gritted his teeth. "I can't believe you three picked up a gambling habit. I'm here in Konoha, working to earn every ryo. And you? You toss it all away. That money wasn't just to keep you comfortable, it was for recruiting! For building something! How long has it been? Still just the three of you. Not a single new member."
Silence from the other end. They knew better than to poke the bear.
Qianyu took a deep, steadying breath. "Miyuki. From now on, all funds go to you. You manage them. Food, basic ninja tools—that's it. Nothing else for these three. If they want luxuries, they can earn it themselves."
The trio exhaled in unison. Crisis averted. The funds weren't cut off. As for the money being with Miyuki… well, that was practically the same as being with them, right? They shared everything.
"Understood," Miyuki replied.
"And you three," Qianyu's warning was sharp. "Focus. On. Your. Mission."
"YES, SIR!" came the immediate, synchronized reply.
Qianyu handed the ring back to Kushina and returned to the sink.
…
Time flowed.
A year passed.
Konoha had slowly regained its footing, a fragile stability settling over the village.
The village's layout was permanently altered. The Uchiha clan had been completely relocated to Konoha's outermost edge.
Only Uchiha on active patrol duty for the Konoha Military Police Force ever set foot in the main streets now. The rest of the clan had become ghosts in their own village.
The Leaf Village Defense Force, now under Danzō's control, had revived the very tactics Qianyu once used. Any Uchiha caught for the slightest infraction—spitting on the street, a muttered complaint—could be detained. The charge? Contempt and defamation of Konoha.
It had happened. An Uchiha was arrested for spitting. The precedent was set.
And what could Fugaku Uchiha do? His clansmen begged him to take their grievances to the Hokage. He went. It changed nothing.
All Fugaku could do was pay the bail. But even the Uchiha treasury couldn't withstand such constant drainage. The clan's wealth had been halved.
His final order: stay within the compound. Do not leave unless absolutely necessary.
Hiruzen, for his part, knew not to push the Uchiha to the brink. As Konoha's economy showed faint signs of recovery, he ordered Danzō to ease the pressure.
Danzō obeyed. By a fraction.
Hiruzen's focus had shifted. His new target: Orochimaru.
Konoha was recovering. And Orochimaru… Orochimaru had drifted beyond his reach, ignoring every order, every summons. The Sannin was no longer an asset to Konoha or to Hiruzen himself. He was a liability. If the full extent of Orochimaru's… experiments… came to light, the Hokage would be tainted by association.
Hiruzen had just reclaimed his stable footing. He wouldn't risk another scandal.
And there was the Qianyu factor. Hiruzen suspected the boy and his former sensei still communicated in the shadows. Removing Orochimaru would sever that potential link, isolate Qianyu further.
Qianyu had been quiet this past year, his world revolving around Kushina and their son, Uzumaki Cang M. But his mere presence was a thorn in Hiruzen's side. A constant, unspoken threat.
If he couldn't remove the thorn yet, he would cut away its support. Isolate it. Then, in time, find its weakness and pluck it out.
His plan was straightforward: locate the hidden lab within Orochimaru's main base—the one housing his most forbidden research. Then, lead a strike team of elite Anbu. A lightning assault. Total annihilation.
As Orochimaru's former teacher, Hiruzen knew the man's capabilities intimately.
Orochimaru's true strength wasn't in overwhelming power. It was in survival. In escape. If the first blow wasn't fatal, the snake would slip away, vanishing into the shadows to strike back when least expected.
He had to move fast. Strike hard. Leave no room for escape.
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