Three years ago, the Nine-Tails’ claws and flames had torn the heart of Konoha apart.
Yet amid the devastation, the ruins had unexpectedly given the village an opportunity to rebuild itself.
In the beginning, Konoha had been little more than a settlement established after the Senju and Uchiha—the two great shinobi clans of their era—finally set aside their hatred and joined hands.
None of its original planners could possibly have imagined that it would one day swell into a massive village inhabited by tens of thousands.
As more shinobi clans joined over the years, their compounds became scattered throughout the village in a chaotic patchwork.
One clan occupied land in the east, another in the west, their territories jutting into Konoha’s expanding streets like stubborn bone spurs that planners could neither remove nor easily work around.
The Nine-Tails’ attack had been a catastrophe, but in a cruel sense, it had also acted like a brutal surgical operation.
The destruction swept away many of those obstacles, finally allowing Konoha to rebuild according to a more orderly plan.
Now, the Hokage Building stood as the undisputed center of the village, with residential and commercial districts clearly separated around it.
The clan compounds that had once been scattered throughout Konoha were collectively relocated toward the outskirts.
And during that great reshuffling, Konoha’s most prestigious clan—the Uchiha—was assigned the most remote, isolated corner of all.
The official explanation sounded perfectly reasonable: placing the Uchiha there would make it easier for the Konoha Military Police Force to perform its duties and maintain public order.
But every Konoha shinobi who had survived that blood-soaked night still remembered the scarlet Sharingan spinning within the Nine-Tails’ eyes.
That undeniable sight silently proclaimed that the Uchiha had somehow been connected to the disaster.
Faced with what amounted to an openly declared exile, Uchiha Fugaku, the clan head, could rage inwardly and swallow humiliation until it cut to the bone—but in the end, he could only grit his teeth and endure it in silence.
At the entrance to the Uchiha clan district, a small figure was already waiting.
Uchiha Itachi wore the clan’s dark-blue clothing, the iconic red-and-white fan crest displayed proudly across his back.
His calm black eyes settled on Shuji as he approached.
“Shuji-senpai.” Itachi bowed slightly, his young voice clear and composed.
“Father asked me to wait here and escort you to our home.” “Thank you, Itachi.” Shuji nodded.
His gaze lingered briefly on the boy.
Itachi seemed even quieter and more reserved than usual today.
Now that Shuji’s promotion to Special Jōnin had been formally confirmed, it was time for him to begin fulfilling his responsibilities as a team leader.
Itachi’s assignment to his squad had already been decided.
If an eight-year-old child was going to accompany him on missions ranked B or higher, then no matter how talented that child might be, Shuji needed to meet with his parent—especially when that parent happened to be the head of the Uchiha clan.
Of course, Shuji himself had already been risking his life on the border at eleven.
But by the shinobi world’s strange, unspoken standards, there was an enormous difference between eight and eleven.
An eight-year-old was still considered a child who belonged in the Ninja Academy.
An eleven-year-old, meanwhile, was apparently old enough to carry a blade onto a battlefield.
“This is your first time visiting the Uchiha clan district, isn’t it, senpai?” Itachi asked as he led the way.
“Yeah.
I spent most of my time fighting on the border, so I rarely had a chance to return to the village.” Shuji followed Itachi while quietly observing his surroundings.
The Uchiha district felt as though it were enclosed behind an invisible wall.
The entrance itself was somewhat deserted, but beyond it lay an entirely different world.
The streets were spotless and orderly, lined on both sides with houses built in a traditional Japanese style.
Unlike the noisy, prosperous commercial streets near central Konoha, the shops here were modest in size, yet they provided almost everything the residents could need: general stores selling ninja tools and daily necessities, izakaya carrying the warm aroma of cooked food, and even an elegant little sweets shop whose display window held carefully arranged dango and sushi.
There weren’t many pedestrians.
Most were Uchiha dressed in the clan’s familiar dark-blue clothing.
They nodded to one another and exchanged quiet greetings, forming a close-knit, self-contained community.
A subtle sense of separation from the outside world hung in the air.
It almost felt as though the Uchiha district were a miniature village existing independently inside Konoha.
Shuji quickly noticed the occasional glances directed toward him.
There was scrutiny in them.
Curiosity.
And, in some cases, a faint coldness that was difficult to miss.
The civilians—women, children, and elderly clan members—mostly regarded him with curiosity mixed with a trace of unease.
The Uchiha shinobi they passed were different.
Their eyes were sharp as blades, openly examining the outsider walking through their territory.
The moment Shuji stepped through the district’s entrance, however, his pace had faltered almost imperceptibly.
It wasn’t because of the eyes inside the compound.
There was another presence farther away—more distant and far better concealed.
A persistent sensation of being watched remained fixed on the direction of the Uchiha district’s main gate.
“Big Brother!
Big Brother!” A childish voice suddenly rang out from a nearby alley, bright and overflowing with excitement.
A tiny figure, perhaps three years old, came charging out in an adorable miniature version of the Uchiha’s dark-blue clan clothing.
Like a little cannonball, he shot straight toward Itachi.
It was Uchiha Sasuke.
He completely ignored the unfamiliar man walking beside his brother.
With all the momentum his little body could muster, Sasuke crashed into Itachi, wrapped both arms tightly around his leg, and looked up with enormous black eyes shining with pure affection and delight.
“Big Brother!
Come play shuriken with me!
Right now!” The mature calm that normally made Itachi seem far older than his years melted away in an instant.
His eyes softened with extraordinary tenderness.
Bending slightly, he gently rubbed Sasuke’s soft black hair.
“Sasuke, I need to take senpai to see Father right now.
I’ll play with you later, all right?” Sasuke immediately pouted, his small face overflowing with disappointment.
His large eyes even seemed to glisten with unshed tears.
Still, he obediently nodded.
Reluctantly releasing Itachi’s leg, he gave Shuji a curious once-over before running back into the alley, turning around several times as though he couldn’t quite bring himself to leave his brother.
At some point, Fugaku had appeared at the entrance of the residence.
He silently watched the entire scene, his expression revealing nothing.
Yet after Sasuke disappeared into the alley and Fugaku’s gaze shifted toward Shuji, something complicated flickered in the depths of his eyes.
Itachi straightened and gave Shuji a small nod, indicating that they should continue.
His expression had already returned to its usual composure.
The two soon arrived before the imposing Uchiha residence.
Itachi stopped at the entrance and respectfully stepped aside.
“Senpai, Father is waiting for you inside.” Fugaku’s gaze was already fixed directly on Shuji.
Shuji nodded his thanks, removed his shoes, and stepped inside.
Itachi remained quietly in the shadows of the outer corridor.
Uchiha Fugaku stood in the entrance hall.
His posture was straight as a pine, his expression as still as deep water.
Dressed in dark clan robes, he regarded Shuji calmly, though there was an unmistakable sense of appraisal in his eyes.
“Jōnin Shuji.” Fugaku’s voice was deep and steady, revealing neither approval nor displeasure.
“I’ve heard much about your accomplishments on the border.
And now you’ve been promoted to Special Jōnin at such a young age.
Impressive.” “You’re too kind, Clan Head Fugaku.
I was only fulfilling my duties.” Shuji inclined his head politely, neither humble to the point of submission nor arrogant enough to offend.
Fugaku stepped aside and gestured for him to enter.
They proceeded into a traditional reception room and knelt opposite one another on the tatami.
Itachi’s mother, Uchiha Mikoto, entered briefly to serve them tea before quietly withdrawing.
Soon, only the delicate fragrance of tea remained in the room, accompanied by an invisible tension that neither man acknowledged.
Contrary to Shuji’s expectations, Fugaku didn’t immediately discuss the dangers Itachi might encounter on missions, nor did he offer the usual requests a parent might make of the person responsible for his child.
Instead, Fugaku lifted his teacup and spoke casually.
“I’ve heard that you’ve always lived in the old estate on the western outskirts of the village…
and that Lady Momoka personally raised and taught you?” “Yes.
Grandma has looked after me all these years.” Shuji answered calmly and raised his own cup.
Fugaku set his tea down.
The bottom of the cup touched the low table with a faint click.
“I’ve also heard that your ninjutsu is exceptional.
You can use all five basic nature transformations.
It seems the hardships of the border truly are the finest whetstone for a shinobi.” “Circumstances forced me to learn.
I simply trained as much as I could.” Fugaku gave a faint nod and didn’t pursue the subject.
Instead, his gaze shifted toward the garden beyond the paper doors.
“Shuji-kun, now that you’ve walked through our clan district with Itachi…
what do you think of it?” Shuji’s thoughts stirred.
He chose his words carefully.
“It’s peaceful.
The clan members seem settled, and everything necessary for daily life is available here.” He paused briefly.
“I can tell that the Uchiha are…
very self-contained.” “Self-contained…” Fugaku repeated the words slowly.
The corner of his mouth seemed to curve by the faintest degree, though the meaning behind it was impossible to read.
His eyes remained on the garden as his voice lowered.
“Yes.
Being self-sufficient has its advantages.
It’s certainly peaceful.” A brief pause.
“But being so far from the village center means there is less noise…” His tone remained mild.
“And inevitably, less contact with everyone else.” It sounded like nothing more than an idle observation.
Fugaku naturally drew his gaze back from the garden and looked at Shuji once more, his demeanor returning to the steady composure expected of a clan head.
“When Itachi begins carrying out missions with your team, I’ll have to trouble you to look after him.
His talent is acceptable, but his experience is still shallow.
He will need your guidance.” “It’s my responsibility.
You have my word, Clan Head Fugaku.” Fugaku studied him deeply.
For a fleeting instant, something more calculating seemed to pass through his eyes—some deeper consideration that vanished before Shuji could fully grasp it.
He said nothing further and rose to his feet.
“Itachi, see Shuji-kun out.” Shuji stood as well and took his leave.
Fugaku accompanied him only as far as the entrance.
When Shuji stepped outside the Uchiha residence, the afternoon sunlight was almost painfully bright.
Itachi had been waiting quietly beneath the eaves.
The moment Shuji emerged, he moved ahead without a word and began guiding him back along the street they had come from.
Shuji could clearly feel Fugaku’s gaze pressing against his back like a tangible weight, heavy with scrutiny.
It didn’t disappear until they turned the corner.
The Uchiha district remained wrapped in that same self-sufficient tranquility and quiet sense of isolation.
From somewhere nearby, the faintly sweet aroma of dango drifted out from the dessert shop.
Itachi’s steps remained steady, but Shuji could sense a subtle trace of confusion coming from the boy.
Senpai has another identity—one important enough to make Father pay special attention to him.
Itachi kept the thought to himself and asked nothing.