Inside the Hokage’s office, Hiruzen Sarutobi, Danzo Shimura, Koharu Utatane, and Homura Mitokado gathered once again.
The atmosphere felt noticeably heavier than before.
“Why didn’t Uchiha Itachi act?”
Danzo was the first to press the issue, his lone eye gleaming coldly.
“Did he lose his nerve and abandon the plan?
I’ve said it before—the Uchiha can’t be trusted.
Betrayal runs in their blood.”
Koharu and Homura both turned toward Hiruzen, waiting for an explanation.
Hiruzen took a long drag from his pipe, exhaling slowly.
For once, an awkward expression surfaced on his face.
He coughed lightly before speaking.
“This… isn’t Itachi’s fault.
The situation was… special.
He genuinely couldn’t act.
If I were in his position, I wouldn’t have been able to either.”
“So what exactly happened, Hiruzen?” Koharu asked, frowning.
Hiruzen’s gaze lingered on her briefly before shifting away, his tone growing even more unnatural.
“I’ll say this first—I’m not some kind of voyeur.
I only checked after receiving ANBU reports.
I used the crystal ball… from a distance.
Or rather… I mostly listened.”
He cleared his throat.
“You all know my technique can be detected by the Sharingan.
Uchiha Fugaku may not be on Uchiha Madara’s level, but he still has the three-tomoe Sharingan…”
“Hiruzen, get to the point,” Homura interrupted impatiently.
“…They were… intimate last night.”
Hiruzen’s old face flushed slightly as he lowered his voice.
“According to the ANBU observing nearby… the commotion lasted the entire night.”
Koharu clicked her tongue and turned her head away.
Danzo and Homura exchanged looks, their expressions turning… rather strange.
After a brief silence, Homura adjusted his glasses, his tone still serious—though now laced with curiosity.
“All night?
I have a friend who’s wondering… has the Uchiha clan developed some kind of special medicine?”
“…I’m curious too.”
Even Danzo, leaning on his cane, showed a flicker of interest in his eye.
“Will you all shut up?!”
Koharu slammed the table, her face flushed with anger.
“Focus!
The plan has already been delayed by a night.
What if the Uchiha act first after noticing something’s wrong?!”
“Ahem…”
Hiruzen coughed again, regaining his Hokage composure.
“For now, we don’t know the exact situation.
We observe.
As you all know, Itachi mentioned that the Akatsuki possess a strange technique that allows them to hide underground and gather intelligence—even the Byakugan and Sharingan can’t detect it.
Only places like the Hokage building, protected by independent barriers, are safe from such surveillance.”
“He’s currently with them, so he can’t send us any messages.
But I trust that child—he knows where the greater good lies.”
“Besides, the Uchiha district isn’t made up entirely of clan members.
There are civilians handling basic work—and among them, we’ve placed our own people.
They can monitor the clan’s movements.”
“Report!”
A knock sounded at the door.
At Hiruzen’s signal, an ANBU operative entered swiftly and dropped to one knee.
“Hokage-sama, the Uchiha clan is showing unusual activity!”
Hiruzen’s gaze sharpened.
“Clan head Uchiha Fugaku has just ordered a gathering at the Naka Shrine.
At the same time, the clan is making large-scale movements—members are being mobilized, and supplies are being gathered.”
“As expected!”
Danzo slammed his cane against the ground and stood up abruptly.
“Fugaku is preparing to act early!
Hiruzen, we can’t wait any longer—mobilize ANBU and Root immediately and strike before they’re fully prepared!”
“No!”
Hiruzen rejected the idea outright.
“A direct attack in broad daylight against the Uchiha elites would cause massive losses for the village!
And even if you gave them ten times the courage, they wouldn’t openly rebel during the day.
Even the Kaguya clan in Kirigakure chose the night—are the Uchiha more reckless than them?”
“This is likely just their final preparations.
We still hold the advantage, and we won’t let things spiral out of control.”
“Indecisive fool!”
Danzo roared.
“You’ll pay for your mercy!
When the Uchiha finally raise their banner, Konoha will suffer even greater casualties!”
“That’s enough!”
Hiruzen slammed the desk, sparks scattering from his pipe.
“I am the Hokage!”
“Hmph.
You’ll regret this.”
Danzo snorted coldly and stormed out.
The Uchiha district, compared to the eerie silence of the previous night, was now bustling with activity.
Uchiha Itachi, disguised as an ordinary civilian using the Transformation Technique, moved quietly among the crowd, his gaze sweeping over everything with calm precision.
The entire clan had been mobilized.
People hurried about, their faces filled with tension, excitement, or confusion.
Because his father—Uchiha Fugaku—had issued a series of orders.
First: a clan meeting at Naka Shrine.
All influential members were required to attend.
Itachi had seen the list—those “influential” figures were essentially the militant faction.
It made sense; if the moderates had the upper hand, the clan wouldn’t even be considering rebellion.
Second: the remaining clan members—neutral or undecided, regardless of age or gender—were ordered to gather supplies under Fugaku’s direct command.
Explosive tags, kunai, shuriken, soldier pills, medical supplies…
All strategic resources were being collected and transported to a central warehouse.
“So… Father, you’ve chosen this path after all?”
Itachi asked himself silently, a flicker of pain crossing his eyes before being buried under cold resolve.
Fortunately, the supplies were only being stockpiled—not distributed.
That meant… today was not yet the day of rebellion.
“All of you, to the warehouse!
Fugaku-sama has an important announcement!”
In the distance, Uchiha Yashiro shouted loudly.
More than three hundred clan members began filing toward the warehouse in an orderly manner, whispering among themselves in confusion.
“Oh ho~”
A teasing voice sounded beside Itachi.
Uchiha Obito had appeared out of nowhere.
“Even the moderates are being mobilized?
Looks like your father’s truly going all in.”
“…We proceed tonight.”
Itachi didn’t look at him, his tone calm.
Obito nodded.
They watched as the crowd poured into the warehouse.
Once the last person entered, the heavy wooden doors creaked shut.
Itachi’s Sharingan locked onto that door.
For some reason… unease stirred in his chest.
Inside the warehouse, hundreds of Uchiha gathered tightly together, murmuring uneasily.
Before them stood mountains of supplies—most prominently, a massive pile of soldier pills, nearly a full ton.
Fugaku stood before them, with Uchiha Mikoto at his side.
Her face was still pale, but her gaze was firm, her hand tightly clasping his.
“Clan head, aside from those at the shrine, everyone else is here,” Yashiro reported respectfully.
Fugaku nodded.
His gaze swept across every face—elderly, women, children, young adults…
All of them were ordinary people, wanting nothing more than a peaceful life.
Yet they had been dragged into this storm—and, in the original timeline, slaughtered by Itachi.
“Do you trust me?”
After a brief silence, Fugaku spoke.
“We do!”
Yashiro answered immediately.
“We trust the clan head!”
The others echoed him.
“So, what’s happening, clan head?” Yashiro asked.
“I’ll explain later.”
Fugaku raised a hand, then turned his gaze toward the pile of soldier pills.
His eyes sharpened.
“Mangekyō Sharingan—activate.”
The three tomoe in his crimson eyes spun wildly, merging into intricate patterns.
His left eye formed a massive, swirling vortex.
His right eye resembled a rotating flower.
“Yomotsu Shokufu!”
The vortex spun violently.
A strange, gurgling sound emerged from beneath the pile of soldier pills.
The concrete floor softened—collapsed—transforming into a pitch-black, viscous swamp.
In an instant, over a ton of supplies was swallowed whole.
The next moment—
A terrifying surge of chakra erupted from Fugaku.
It was so vast it became visible—dark red waves radiating outward, shaking the warehouse walls, dust raining down.
The clan members were forced back, their faces filled with shock.
This—
Was the true form of his ability.
To devour all energy-bearing matter… and convert it into pure chakra.
A full ton of soldier pills—enough to sustain thousands of shinobi for days—now belonged entirely to him.
“Boar—Dog—Rooster—Monkey—Ram—Summoning Jutsu: Reverse!”
He slammed his hands onto the ground.
The massive chakra poured into the sealing array—
At that exact moment—
The warehouse doors exploded open.
Itachi stood at the entrance, Sharingan spinning.
Behind him, Obito emerged, his gaze locked inside.
But what they saw—
Was an empty warehouse.
And a floor of strange, black sludge.
“…They escaped?”
Obito scratched his head.
“…Reverse Summoning Technique.”
Itachi said quietly.
Then he frowned.
His contract with the ninja cats… had been severed.
“My father… used reverse summoning to send everyone to the cats’ territory.”
“…Interesting.
Very interesting.”
To Obito, whether the Uchiha lived or died didn’t matter—as long as they weren’t in Konoha.
And just like that—
The situation had taken a completely unexpected turn.
First—weaken Konoha.
As a member of the Uchiha clan, he understood this better than anyone.
This was a clan that could produce a genius out of nowhere at any time—wasn’t he himself proof of that?
Left unchecked, they were a constant threat.
Second—take Uchiha Itachi as a powerful asset.
The Sharingan naturally suppressed tailed beasts.
With Itachi as an ally, a great deal of pressure could be shared.
After all, he wasn’t truly Uchiha Madara—fighting the entire shinobi world alone was nearly impossible.
A pity, though.
He hadn’t managed to kill Itachi’s parents.
Without that emotional trigger, the boy might never awaken the Mangekyō Sharingan.
His value would drop significantly.
“By the way…”
Uchiha Obito tilted his head, voice casual but probing.
“Do you think your father already knew about your deal with Konoha?
Last night—was that deliberate?
Stalling for time while preparing this technique?”
“And… reverse summoning over three hundred people, plus that much material?
That’s not something you can pull off with chakra alone.”
“As the caster, the pressure of maintaining that jutsu—hell, even the Raikage at peak physical strength would have his body and soul crushed under that kind of strain.”
“He must’ve awakened the Mangekyō Sharingan.”
“So… his ability is related to teleportation?”
“…No, no, wait—maybe it enhances his performance in—”
“Shut up.”
Uchiha Itachi cut him off coldly, exhaling slowly.
“…Let’s go.”
“Go where?”
“…To kill.”
A chilling light flickered in Itachi’s three-tomoe Sharingan.
Half of that killing intent was directed at the masked man’s incessant chatter.
The other half… at the situation itself.
His parents had escaped.
But the militant faction remained.
If those radicals weren’t eliminated, Konoha would still face internal conflict.
Worse, as part of his agreement with the village, Uchiha Sasuke was still in Konoha—kept back under the pretense of training.
Obito might be annoying, but one thing he said was likely true.
His father had probably known everything all along.
He had chosen to sever the limb to save the body—taking the moderates and abandoning the militants as expendable pieces.
But what Itachi hadn’t expected…
Was just how ruthless Fugaku could be.
Being abandoned himself—he could accept that.
Father and son had long since stood on opposite sides, only one step away from killing each other.
But Sasuke…
His father had discarded him just as easily.
Itachi couldn’t imagine what Sasuke would feel if he ever learned the truth.
Perhaps… he had never truly understood his father.
“What’s the point of killing them?”
Obito shrugged lazily.
“For me, there’s no reason to deal with the militants.
Leaving them behind only creates more trouble for Konoha.”
“That’s part of the deal.”
Itachi turned to look at him.
“I told you—I’ve already reached an agreement with Konoha.
They’re willing to let me eliminate the Uchiha, but in exchange, they must protect my brother.”
“…After all, for me, the Eternal Mangekyō depends on Sasuke’s eyes.”
“Yeah, yeah, but you don’t even have the Mangekyō yet—huh?”
Obito suddenly froze.
He stared at Itachi’s eyes.
The three tomoe had vanished.
In their place… bloomed a complex, unfamiliar pattern.
“You bastard… you lied.”
Obito clenched his fist.
“Everyone keeps a trump card,” Itachi replied calmly.
“When did you—… oh.”
Obito slapped his fist into his palm.
“Uchiha Shisui…!”
Trailing behind Itachi, he muttered with a crooked grin,
“Father and son, huh… both of you hiding things this well…”
“Hey—wait for me!
Oi!
Don’t just walk off—hey!”
Want faster updates?
Send those stones my way—the more, the merrier.