From the very moment Uchiha Hiro first awoke in this new body and absorbed the fading memories of his predecessor, he had already seriously considered the drastic, irreversible path of permanent defection.
Anyone with even a passing understanding of the hidden ninja world knew that the proud Uchiha clan was practically loathed and ostracized by almost everyone residing within the walls of Konoha.
This was especially true regarding the village's elite higher-ups, those aging, paranoid relics like the Third Hokage, Hiruzen Sarutobi, and the shadow manipulator, Danzo Shimura; those two stubborn, deeply prejudiced men were the absolute prime examples of this systemic hostility.
That sinister old warhawk, Danzo Shimura, was constantly and obsessively plotting the inevitable demise and complete, violent eradication of the Uchiha lineage.
The systemic, institutionalized hatred directed toward the Uchiha clan originally began to take root during the reign of the Second Hokage, Senju Tobirama. That fiercely pragmatic, emotionally distant man had even intentionally established the Konoha Military Police Force and handed its control exclusively to the Uchiha. While it seemed like a gesture of immense trust on the surface, it was actually a highly calculated, brilliant political maneuver that effectively caused the entire clan to become completely isolated, deeply resented, and permanently marginalized from the daily political life of the broader village.
But although that naturally suspicious Senju leader deeply disliked the unpredictable, emotionally volatile nature of the Uchiha clan, his hostility had never quite reached the extreme, genocidal point of advocating for total extermination; at the absolute most, he merely carried out a strict, calculated series of political and social suppressions to keep their inherent power firmly in check.
However, ever since Tobirama met his honorable end on the brutal battlefields against the Hidden Cloud Village and Hiruzen Sarutobi officially took the mantle of Hokage, daily life for the proud Uchiha clan had slowly become increasingly, suffocatingly difficult.
Hiruzen Sarutobi and Danzo Shimura operated perfectly together in the shadows, one constantly playing the benevolent, forgiving leader and the other actively acting as the ruthless, unforgiving executioner. Together, they had been continuously and systematically suppressing the Uchiha clan's influence and growth at every conceivable turn for decades.
If the situation were strictly limited to just dealing with the paranoid higher-ups, it might still be a somewhat manageable political situation. But not only had the Uchiha clan heavily offended the village elders, they unfortunately did not even possess a halfway decent reputation among the common citizens living in the rest of Konoha.
Honestly, which of the other major, influential ninja clans ever looked at the Uchiha clan with genuine favor or camaraderie? The answer was absolutely none of them.
But honestly, there was simply no helping the current, toxic situation.
The Uchiha clan's universally recognized, unparalleled natural talent and the resulting, overwhelming combat power had inevitably led to their collective, innate arrogance. This overwhelming, unshakable pride made them inherently out of place and deeply unpopular within the supposedly harmonious, integrated system of the hidden village.
As for the ordinary, civilian residents walking the streets, their blind, easily manipulated hatred was somehow even worse.
The derogatory whispers and fearful rumors constantly circulating in the civilian sectors, calling them unruly and unstable, were certainly not born out of thin air; they perfectly reflected the deeply ingrained, irrational prejudices of the uneducated masses.
Hiro fundamentally and logically felt that if he stubbornly chose not to defect and foolishly continued to stay trapped within these invisible walls, he would inevitably, eventually be suffocated to death by the sheer, crushing weight of his own mounting frustration.
With such unimaginably powerful strength naturally flowing through their veins, where exactly in this vast, war-torn world would their prestigious Uchiha clan not be eagerly embraced, feared, and highly respected? Instead of being worshipped for their martial prowess, they were currently being shamefully marginalized and treated exactly like dangerous, rabid dogs right here in their own ancestral home.
Smoothly and silently expanding the vast, omniscient sensory range of his Six Eyes to carefully observe the current, tense situation unfolding just outside the compound walls, Uchiha Hiro already knew for a factual certainty that Danzo had personally arrived at the main gates. However, it appeared that the current Uchiha clan head, Tenjima, had successfully and firmly blocked the old warhawk from taking another step inside. It seemed that the current leader of the clan was not yet the overly passive, tragically soft-hearted appeaser that his successor, Fugaku, would eventually turn out to be; Tenjima still evidently possessed a solid, respectable spine when pushed to the edge.
But since Clan Head Tenjima strictly and philosophically belonged to the passive, compromising faction that constantly sought peace at any cost, Uchiha Hiro, who was already meticulously planning his violent defection, astutely decided it would be vastly more productive to go and seek out the established leader of the militant faction, the esteemed elder Uchiha Setsuna.
Uchiha Setsuna was an incredibly sharp, battle-hardened man; he would undoubtedly possess the tactical clarity to know exactly what hard choices needed to be made in these dark times.
With the Clan Head personally standing guard at the gates, Danzo absolutely would not be able to force his way through without sparking a massive civil war, which generously bought Hiro some much-needed, valuable time to properly prepare his next moves... Out at the perimeter, Danzo stared coldly at the large, intimidating group of glowing, blood-red eyes currently surrounding him, feeling a very rare, distinct pang of genuine, physical unease churning deep within his gut.
Although he profoundly loathed these arrogant, cursed people with every fiber of his being, he was a pragmatic military commander and had to logically admit that their collective combat power was indeed extraordinarily terrifying; it was practically impossible for ordinary ninja of the exact same rank to successfully contend with them in a direct, head-on confrontation.
He knew with absolute, chilling certainty that if he foolishly attempted to forcefully order his men to break through the compound gates tonight, he and his escort would surely be instantly minced into unrecognizable meat paste by these furious, battle-ready clan members.
Although Danzo was currently still relatively young by political standards and definitely possessed immense, Kage-level combat power even without actively utilizing his deeply hidden, forbidden trump cards, he was certainly no physical match for so many elite, fully awakened Uchiha warriors attacking in perfect unison.
"So many fully matured, Three-Tomoe Sharingan staring back at me..." Danzo thought bitterly to himself. "These damned, cursed people still possess such overwhelmingly great, dangerous power. They must be systematically weakened before they inevitably turn their fangs on the village."
After all, the standard, emotionless Root operatives he had brought along as an intimidation tactic simply weren't of much practical use against such an overwhelming, elite force.
"Damn it all, immediately after I return to the hidden base tonight, I absolutely must manipulate Hiruzen into signing off on some new administrative paperwork to forcibly draft some young shinobi possessing unique bloodline limits from the other noble clans directly into my organization. Otherwise, I'll be left with absolutely no one truly useful to execute my grand vision."
His mind then shifted to his current, active covert operation. "And exactly what is going on with the operatives designated Fox and Bear? Why haven't they successfully finished their simple assassination task yet? Don't tell me those few, highly trained killers can't even silently take down a single, heavily injured teenager?"
After standing out in the cold night for a very long time and seeing that his elite subordinates still hadn't returned to report their success, Danzo's sharp intuition kicked in. He knew immediately that those useless, pathetic failures had highly likely botched the assignment and wouldn't be coming back alive.
"Clan Head Tenjima, mark my words, we shall inevitably meet again very soon."
With a deeply dark, threatening expression written across his scarred face, Danzo abruptly turned his back and left the heavily guarded Uchiha clan compound in a furious, silent huff.
Seeing the dangerous old man finally leave the premises, Tenjima also visibly relaxed his tense shoulders, letting out a heavy, exhausted breath into the cold air.
He truly, deeply did not want to physically clash with Danzo's shadowy forces, but if he had passively allowed Danzo to forcefully enter and abduct a talented genius of their proud clan right under his very nose, he might as well completely resign from his esteemed position as their sworn protector.
"Sigh, these are truly, incredibly troubled times we live in," he muttered quietly to the night wind.
...Meanwhile, deep within the territory, Uchiha Hiro stepped softly onto the ancient, moonlit stone path weaving through the residential compound, his physical pace incredibly light yet purposefully steady.
The militant faction's highly secretive gathering place, located deep within the oldest section of the compound, was cleverly hidden behind a dense, overgrown grove of ancient pine trees; it was a seemingly unremarkable, humble stone house that constantly carried a faint, lingering, acrid scent of burnt gunpowder and scorched earth year-round.
Those distinct, violent smells were the permanent, physical marks left behind by the faction members' constant, intense private combat training and lethal sparring sessions.
He confidently raised his hand and knocked firmly against the heavy stone door. The specific, rhythmic cadence of three long, heavy strikes followed immediately by two short, sharp taps was the strict internal security signal utilized exclusively by the militant faction, and steady, disciplined footsteps soon approached from the other side of the thick wall.
The individual who eventually pulled open the heavy door was a hardened old man possessing a slightly hunched physical frame, yet carrying a spine that remained aggressively, proudly straight. His coarse, silver hair was exactly the color of winter frost, combed back meticulously and perfectly, and his deeply tanned forehead was heavily etched with profound, dark wrinkles—the permanent, unmistakable physical marks left behind by both the cruel passage of time and decades spent surviving on blood-soaked battlefields.
At the corner of his left eye rested a jagged, gruesome old scar that ran violently straight through his thick brow bone, making him look particularly fierce and highly intimidating in the dim, flickering candlelight. It was indeed the legendary elder, Uchiha Setsuna.
He was well over seventy years old, conservatively dressed in incredibly dark, stiffly starched, traditional tactical combat gear. The proud fan crest meticulously stitched onto his high collar had faded slightly from decades of age and constant wear, and his gnarled, battle-scarred finger joints were visibly swollen from severe arthritis, yet Hiro knew for a fact that this ancient warrior could still hold a lethal blade steadier than most Jonin.
The legendary, fully matured Three-Tomoe Sharingan spun incredibly slowly and methodically within the slightly cloudy, aged whites of his sharp eyes. When he accurately recognized that it was Hiro standing on his doorstep, a brief, microscopic flicker of genuine surprise crossed his glowing irises, and he immediately stepped aside to let the young man enter the hidden sanctuary. His voice carried a heavy, aged, raspy tone, but it undeniably remained as firm and unyielding as solid iron.
"Hiro? To come specifically looking for me at this late hour of the night... do you perhaps have highly urgent, critical business to discuss?"
The interior of the stone house was incredibly simply, almost ascetically furnished, containing absolutely nothing more than a solid stone table entirely missing one of its sharp corners and a few basic, low wooden stools scattered around. A few rough bundles of chopped, dry firewood were neatly piled up in the dark corner of the room, and the highly complex, advanced tactical jutsu diagrams hanging prominently on the cold stone walls had severely yellowed and curled drastically at the edges from years of ambient moisture.
As soon as Hiro sat down on one of the sturdy stools, he completely abandoned all pleasantries and spoke with absolute, unwavering bluntness.
"Elder Setsuna, I have come here tonight to officially inform you that I am permanently defecting from Konoha."
The primary reason he chose to state his treasonous intentions so incredibly directly and without any political softening was because, perfectly preserved within the absorbed memories of his physical predecessor, the battle-hardened Elder Setsuna sitting right before him was deemed absolutely, fundamentally trustworthy regarding the highly dangerous, treasonous matter of defection.
Uchiha Setsuna was undoubtedly one of the very few truly brilliant, forward-thinking tactical minds left within the decaying Uchiha clan; he would intimately and immediately know exactly what brutal, necessary choices he had to make.
The exact, heavy moment those treasonous words fell from Hiro's lips, the ambient air inside the tiny stone house instantly froze solid, feeling exactly like a physical weight pressing down on their shoulders. Uchiha Setsuna's scarred hand, currently holding a coarse, chipped ceramic teacup, paused entirely mid-air, his thick knuckles rapidly turning a stark, bone-white color from the sudden, immense physical pressure of his tightened grip. He did not immediately erupt in anger or voice a loud objection, but instead simply looked incredibly steadily and intensely at Hiro, the dark tomoe resting within his glowing red eyes rotating exceptionally slowly, looking exactly as if he were meticulously, mathematically weighing the immense, life-altering gravity of those words.
"Do you truly, genuinely comprehend exactly what these specific words mean for your future?" the elder finally rasped. "A declared defector will be endlessly, ruthlessly hunted down by Konoha's elite tracker units until the day they die. From that specific moment on, the physical world outside these walls may indeed be vast and endless, but there will absolutely be no safe, secure place left on this earth for you to lay your head. I have lived on this bloody earth for well over seventy years, and I have personally witnessed the tragic, gruesome ends of entirely too many desperate defectors."
There was one incredibly heavy, unspoken historical sentence that he purposefully left hanging in the tense silence between them.
The absolute last member of the Uchiha clan to successfully and permanently defect from this village was named Uchiha Madara.
"I know the dire consequences vastly better than anyone else alive."
Hiro fearlessly met the terrifying elder's intense, glowing gaze, the absolute, divine visual prowess of the Six Eyes operating completely quietly in the background as a brilliant, sharp, ethereal light briefly flickered beautifully within the depths of his dark pupils.
"But stubbornly choosing to stay here within the rotting walls of Konoha only leads down a one-way path to a collective dead end. Danzo's brainwashed, emotionless Root assassins have already violently reached the inner edges of our residential compound tonight. If the Clan Head hadn't physically and politically stopped him at the gates just now, he highly likely would have already forcefully broken in and started slaughtering our people in their sleep."
"You and I both completely, intimately understand that the higher-ups' constant, systemic suppression of our people has absolutely never been about maintaining the peace or order of the village, but entirely about systematically eliminating powerful political dissidents before they can strike. If we foolishly choose to wait any longer, we will either be agonizingly, slowly worn down into absolute nothingness by their political games, or we will eventually face the bloody, total extinction of our entire bloodline."
He paused for a brief, calculated second, his vocal tone becoming increasingly, unyieldingly firm and entirely resolute in his dark convictions.
"Our historic clan inherently possesses the absolute finest, most powerful ninja bloodline in existence and the overwhelmingly supreme, unmatched visual prowess of the Sharingan. Why in the world should we passively sit back and simply take the constant, humiliating abuse dished out by those cowardly, aging relics currently running Konoha? Why should we continue to be systematically marginalized and openly treated exactly like dangerous, unstable monsters by the very ordinary, pathetic villagers we are sworn to protect? Instead of slowly, painfully suffocating to death in absolute frustration right here in our own ancestral home, it is vastly, infinitely better to aggressively carve out a violent, bloody path forward and find a completely new place in this world where the Uchiha name can truly, proudly stand tall once again."