Shisui sat in the dark courtyard, his breath hitching. Fugaku's questions were like kunai, precisely aimed at his spirit. "What about the Doves, Shisui? Do you resent Hiko for turning your ideals into a joke?"
Shisui looked at his hands—the hands of a pacifist that were now stained with the ink of endless paperwork. "I don't resent him," Shisui whispered, his voice cracking. "If the price of the clan's survival is the death of my faction, then let the Doves vanish. Hiko is right. The village doesn't want our kindness; they want our submission. He's the only one refusing to give it."
Fugaku's gaze didn't waver. He leaned forward, the moonlight catching the dried blood at the corner of his eyes. "And what if his ambition is even greater? What if Hiko plans to tear me down and take the seat of Patriarch for himself?"
The air in the courtyard froze. Shisui surged to his feet, his heart hammering against his ribs. "I... I would stop him. If his ambition threatens the peace of the clan—"
"Sit down, Shisui," Fugaku commanded. The weight of his voice was absolute.
Shisui collapsed back onto the mat, trembling. Fugaku poured him a cup of tea with a steady hand. "I'm not telling you this so you can stop him. I'm telling you this so you can help him."
"But... why?" Shisui gasped.
"Because at this point, it doesn't matter who sits in the Patriarch's chair," Fugaku said, a rare, burning light appearing in his eyes. "What matters is that the Uchiha rises. Hiko is the fire we need. Your mission is this: Join the Anbu. Feed the village just enough information to keep them satisfied—be their 'loyal spy'—but use that position to shield Hiko's movements. When he strikes at the hardliners, you make sure the Hokage looks the other way."
Shisui felt the world tilt. Fugaku was asking him to be a triple agent—a spy for the village who was actually a shield for the clan's most radical rising star. "Uchiha will rise again," Fugaku whispered, more to himself than to Shisui. "Even if I have to be the stepping stone Hiko walks on."
The Office and the Secretary
The next morning, Hiko found himself a "prisoner" of his own success. Fugaku had grounded him for his own "protection," meaning his days of lounging at the noodle shop were over.
But the office wasn't the dull room it used to be. Uchiha Izumi had transformed it. Gone were the dusty scrolls and the smell of stale tea. The desk was polished, the documents were categorized with surgical precision, and a fresh cup of tea appeared the moment his own went cold.
"Captain, I've reorganized the incident reports from the last quarter," Izumi said, bowing slightly. She moved with a quiet, efficient grace that made the rough-edged Third Squad look like barbarians.
Hiko watched her. He was used to irritable men; having a "secretary" who actually cared about the quality of the office air was... unsettling. But he couldn't waste his daily routine.
System, copy.
[Copy Successful: Acquired a significant portion of Sharingan Ocular Power. Fuse now?]
Hiko's eyebrows shot up. A significant portion? He looked at Izumi as she hummed a soft tune while filing papers. He had underestimated her potential. In the original timeline, she was just "Itachi's girlfriend," but the system didn't lie—her ocular talent was immense.
"Fuse," Hiko commanded internally.
The sensation was different this time. It wasn't the burning heat of the Indra chakra; it was a cool, sharp clarity. It felt like someone had polished the lenses of his soul. His three-tomoe eyes spun momentarily in the dark, the red deeper than before, the black markings sharper.
If even the 'weak' members of this clan have this much potential, Hiko mused, watching the steam rise from his tea, it's no wonder the village elders are terrified. We aren't a clan; we're an untapped volcano.
"Captain?" Izumi asked, noticing his silence. "Is the tea not to your liking?"
"The tea is fine, Izumi," Hiko said, his voice smooth. "In fact, everything is becoming very clear."