After a moment, Shisui gave a bitter smile.
He wasn't Hiruzen Sarutobi — a man practiced in speeches and political reassurance. Shisui had never been good at dressing truth in comforting words.
And besides, deceiving the younger members of the clan would achieve nothing.
His greatest wish had always been simple: that the Uchiha and Konoha could truly coexist. But the situation was worsening by the day. Distrust festered on both sides, hardening into something that felt beyond reconciliation.
"This is… a difficult question to answer," Shisui admitted. For once, confusion showed plainly in his voice.
Ryoma understood. Shisui had been searching for a path that allowed both the village and the clan to survive.
If the Fourth Hokage, Minato Namikaze, were still alive, perhaps things might have turned out differently. But the night of the Nine-Tails' attack had shattered that possibility. And in its aftermath, clan head Fugaku Uchiha had hesitated — missing the one moment where the Uchiha might have acted before suspicion closed around them.
Ryoma recalled a saying from his previous life: I'd rather make a wrong choice than stand still and watch everything collapse.
Fugaku possessed the Mangekyō Sharingan and the authority of a clan head — yet he wavered between loyalty to Konoha and responsibility to his clan. That hesitation would eventually lead to the worst possible outcome.
"My understanding of the Will of Fire is still insufficient," Shisui said at last, his tone quiet. "Let's end here for today."
"Maybe it isn't your understanding that's flawed," Ryoma replied softly. "Maybe the Will of Fire itself has been twisted."
"Ryougi," Shisui warned, his voice turning solemn. "Do not speak such things lightly. The Hokage embodies the Will of Fire."
Hiruzen Sarutobi had spent decades spreading that doctrine. In Shisui's heart, it was sacred — beyond criticism.
Ryoma did not press further. He had learned what he needed for now.
As he left, he passed another prodigy of the clan — Uchiha Itachi.
They exchanged greetings. Itachi watched him depart, puzzled. In his memory, Shisui rarely met privately with younger clan members. Yet when Itachi entered the room, he found Shisui sitting still, gaze unfocused — an expression of rare uncertainty on the normally unshakable man's face.
Ryoma spent the rest of the day in the Konoha library. By dusk, he finally closed the last scroll.
On his way back to the Uchiha district, he stopped by the riverbank.
"Sasuke. Training again?"
Five-year-old Sasuke looked up, cheeks puffed in frustration.
Children were honest creatures — unable to hide emotion. Sasuke idolized his older brother, Itachi. Everyone did. A once-in-a-generation genius who had graduated the Academy at seven and become a chūnin at ten.
But Sasuke wanted to surpass him. And the comparisons from his father only fed that quiet jealousy.
"By seniority," Ryoma said with a grin, "you should call me big brother."
He walked over and ruffled Sasuke's hair. Sasuke tried to dodge, failed, and shot him an annoyed glare.
"You're not my brother. My only brother is Itachi."
"Is that so?" Ryoma glanced at the scorch marks on the water's surface. "Want to surprise your brother one day? Call me big brother, and I'll teach you a Fire Release technique beyond Academy level."
Sasuke hesitated.
He loved when Itachi trained him — but Itachi's duties to the clan kept him constantly busy. Fugaku trained Sasuke when he could, but every session ended with comparisons to Itachi's achievements. Sasuke had grown desperate to prove himself.
"…What technique?" he asked despite himself.
"Fire Release: Phoenix Flower Jutsu."
Ryoma stepped back, forming seals. Flames burst from his mouth, splitting into multiple fireballs that spiraled across the river. The water exploded upward in a column of steam and spray. The residual heat shimmered above the surface.
Sasuke's eyes widened.
To him, this was a jonin-level spectacle. Even if Itachi had seen real battlefields, Sasuke was still a child witnessing power beyond anything in Academy lessons.
Ryoma leaned closer and whispered, "At your age, mastering this would shock your father… and your brother."
He wasn't lying. Most genin barely knew the Transformation and Clone Techniques. A Fire Release of this level was far beyond ordinary training.
Sasuke clenched his fists.
"…Ryougi-niisan," he muttered reluctantly.
Ryoma laughed softly.
Teasing kids really was easy.
And Sasuke's reluctant pout reminded him of ridiculous reaction images from his past life.
Keeping his promise, Ryoma began teaching him the Phoenix Flower Jutsu step by step.
Sasuke beamed — the pure joy of a child who'd been handed something precious.
The next morning came quickly.
In Konoha, Academy graduates were normally assigned to jonin instructors. But Ryoma already knew his path would differ.
He left home early, planning to eat at Ichiraku Ramen.
He was an orphan in this life. He had no parents here — perhaps the price of arriving with too many advantages.
Cheating kills the family tree, he joked to himself. Guess that makes me a standard protagonist.
When he reached Ichiraku, he sensed it immediately — the uneasy murmurs, the subtle avoidance, the hateful whispers.
Pulling aside the curtain, he saw Naruto Uzumaki.
Messy blond hair. Bright blue eyes. Cheerfully devouring ramen, completely unaware of the fear and superstition surrounding him.
The Nine-Tails' jinchūriki.
Ryoma simply ordered his own bowl.
Naruto glanced up — surprised someone had sat nearby without flinching. But he said nothing, finished his meal, and left with a grin.
Midway through eating, Shisui appeared.
"Ryougi. The clan head wishes to see you."
"I understand."
He already knew what this meant. Like Itachi, he would not be assigned to an ordinary squad. His path would be bound to the clan's fate.
Outside the office door, Ryoma turned.
"Shisui-nii. One moment."
Shisui nodded.
Ryoma entered and bowed.
"Ryougi," Fugaku said calmly. "I have informed the Hokage. You will skip normal team assignment. Complete missions, earn promotion to chūnin, and then join the ANBU — alongside Itachi."
"Yes," Ryoma replied. His face remained composed, though the decision came faster than expected.
"Go. Itachi will take you on missions soon."
Later, Ryoma visited Shisui's home.
"After yesterday, I went to the library," Ryoma said. "I found the First Hokage's own words on the Will of Fire."
Shisui accepted the scroll. "Ah… these records. I've read them."
Ryoma inhaled slowly.
"The First Hokage founded Konoha to protect children from war. To end the era where children died on battlefields."
He raised his eyes.
"Then why, during the Third Shinobi World War, were children sent to the front lines?"
Silence.
Shisui's brow furrowed. "Manpower was scarce. Early deployment accelerated growth…"
Ryoma shook his head.
"You fought in that war. You know most child soldiers died before ever 'growing.'"
His voice remained steady.
"Where were the Hokage, the advisors, Danzo, the village's elite? If they had fought instead of sending children, countless lives would have been spared."
Each word landed cleanly.
"Shisui-nii… the Hokage betrayed the Will of Fire. And in doing so, betrayed Konoha."
Shisui's breath caught.
No one had ever dared speak such words aloud. The shinobi world praised Hiruzen Sarutobi as the Professor, the living embodiment of the Will of Fire.
To accuse him of betrayal was heresy.
"…What did you say?" Shisui's voice trembled — not in anger, but in shock.
He stared at Ryoma as if seeing him for the first time.
This wasn't childish rebellion.
This was a question aimed at the very foundation of Konoha's faith.
And it terrified him.