After returning to the clan compound, the old clan head immediately sent for Uchiha Setsuna and Uchiha Honoha.
Before long, the three Uchiha elders were gathered together in an elegant, unadorned Japanese-style room.
Perhaps because they had already made their decision and formally entrusted the future direction of the clan to the younger generation, the burdens that had weighed upon their shoulders, along with the conflicts between them, suddenly disappeared.
The three sat facing one another, and for once, they found a sense of peace they had not experienced in a long time.
Even… a harmony that felt as though it belonged to another lifetime.
Once upon a time, they had all been spirited young men.
Along the banks of the Naka River, beneath the Uchiha fan crest, they had fought shoulder to shoulder for the clan they loved, letting the roar of ninjutsu thunder through their ears and allowing blood to stain the earth beneath their feet.
“…Sarutobi is still the same. He only gave us some meaningless excuse.”
The old clan head recounted the negotiation in detail.
At the end, he lifted his teacup, his expression surprisingly relaxed, as though he had expected this outcome all along.
The warm tea soothed his throat.
He gently set the cup down, the porcelain base making a crisp sound as it touched the tabletop.
Uchiha Setsuna leaned against his cushion, his thin, long fingers tapping intermittently against his knee.
After listening to the old clan head’s account, his brows shot upward, and an extremely mocking snort escaped from his nose.
“He wants the Uchiha youths to risk their lives, yet he stubbornly clings to that little bit of authority and refuses to let go. He really wants it all.”
The old man’s biting words were like poisoned kunai, stabbing straight into the heart of the matter.
“That kind of behavior is even more disgusting than the prostitutes on the hot-spring streets of the Land of Hot Water, who at least put a price on everything!”
Setsuna turned his head toward the blue sky and white clouds outside the window.
His hoarse voice carried the cold mockery of someone who had seen through the ways of the world.
“At least they believe in a fair transaction where both sides are willing.”
Silence filled the room after his words.
Only the faint tapping of his knuckles against his knee echoed in harmony with the sound of the deer scarer outside.
A sharp glint, like sunlight flashing off a blade, passed through the old man’s cloudy yet still piercing eyes.
“This time, we absolutely cannot compromise!”
“Setsuna, don’t be so hasty.”
Uchiha Honoha leisurely set down his teacup and looked up at Setsuna, whose brows still held a trace of ferocity.
His voice was like the quiet current flowing deep within the Naka River.
“We’re both getting old. It’s time to let our anger settle.” This chapter is updated first at g.com.
Ever since he had entrusted his granddaughter to that dazzling junior and spent an entire night kneeling before the memorial tablets of his son and daughter-in-law, the obsession that had haunted him for years had vanished without a trace.
At this moment, Honoha sat calmly within the interplay of light and shadow, even the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes relaxing into an unhurried curve.
The future of the clan would be forged by new blood, as radiant as the rising sun.
As for what he could do from here on, all that remained was to use this weathered body as a vessel and protect his clansmen throughout the final voyage.
If necessary, even his old bones could be turned into kindling to illuminate the road ahead.
“You always have so much wisdom to spout.”
Seeing the composed Honoha opposite him, Setsuna could not help sitting upright and clearing his throat before abruptly changing the subject.
“Once we’ve settled everything in front of us, why don’t you come over to my place? It’s about time we properly discussed the marriage of those two children.”
Honoha’s expression changed instantly.
Even though he had accepted this reality deep down, the thought of his precious granddaughter, whom he had carefully cherished, being carried off by that brat from Setsuna’s family still made his chest feel heavy.
“Mm, indeed.”
Honoha agreed before calmly changing the subject.
His gaze shifted toward the old clan head, who had been watching the show from the side.
“Clan head, speaking of which, Fugaku isn’t young anymore either. When does he intend to get married?”
‘It’s all because he’s been pursuing Mikoto.
Otherwise, Fugaku would have been married long ago, and his children would probably already be four or five years old by now.’
The old clan head grumbled inwardly as he cast a sidelong glance at the two men before him.
Honoha casually turned his head away, while Setsuna calmly raised his chin, undisguised smugness dancing in his eyes.
After all, ever since Anlan had managed to win Mikoto’s heart, Setsuna had been so delighted that he had actually allowed himself to drink to drunkenness the previous night.
“With the great war approaching and the situation in the shinobi world changing by the hour, setting a marriage date now would be like planning for tomorrow when tomorrow itself is uncertain. There is no harm in waiting until the situation becomes clearer.”
The old clan head’s gaze swept over Honoha’s barely concealed anticipation, and everything became clear to him.
His old friend merely wanted to use his words to delay Mikoto’s marriage.
Since he also found the smug Setsuna rather irritating, he decided to go along with it.
“After all, marriage concerns the children’s entire lives. It would be even more solemn and grand if we waited until they returned victorious from the war.”
Setsuna snorted coldly.
How could he fail to understand what these two old men were thinking?
Still, he did not quibble over it.
With his own boy’s meticulous mind and methods, getting that little Mikoto to willingly accompany him for the rest of her life was merely a matter of letting nature take its course.
Setsuna took a sip of tea, thinking happily to himself.
Seeing that he showed no further reaction, the other two also returned the conversation to the main topic.
“The situation within the village is clear. Now we just have to see how that Sarutobi monkey plans to haggle with us.”
“But outside the village, the situation is constantly changing. We need more comprehensive and timely intelligence to support us, so that we can seize the initiative in the subsequent negotiations with the Hokage, and even in the war itself.”
The old clan head looked around at his two old friends, his gaze calm and resolute.
“So it’s time to integrate our respective intelligence networks into one.”
“Only by twisting ourselves into a single rope and exerting our strength in the same direction can the Uchiha take steadier and farther steps.”
Outside the window, sunlight shifted through the shadows of the trees, casting the solemn silhouettes of the three old men onto the wall, like three ancient pines with intertwined roots.
“Naturally.”
Honoha nodded solemnly.
“As for who should coordinate the intelligence network, I suggest Mikoto. Her strength is weaker, while Anlan and Fugaku are more suited to charging into battle.”
There was some selfishness in his words, as he wanted to keep his granddaughter away from the core of the danger, but more than that, it was an objective recommendation.
The importance of intelligence was beyond question.
It had to remain in the hands of their own people.
Even when it came to his most trusted subordinates, Honoha still felt somewhat uneasy entrusting it to them.
The only people capable of perfectly integrating the intelligence networks of the three factions were Anlan, Fugaku, and Mikoto.
The other two understood this as well.
They also knew that placing their younger generation in charge of intelligence, which required an enormous amount of time and effort to organize, would be a complete waste of their abilities.
Setsuna clapped his hands and laughed, decisively nodding.
“I agree. Mikoto is meticulous and thorough in everything she does. She is the perfect choice to take charge of intelligence.”
The old clan head, realizing that the other two had deliberately set him up, watched as they sang the same tune and simultaneously turned expectant gazes toward him.
The corner of his mouth twitched slightly before he finally shook his head helplessly.
“You two old foxes… don’t go and drag my Fugaku into your schemes.”
Hearing his half-joking scolding, Honoha and Setsuna laughed along with him.
Their laughter intertwined with decades of grievances and understanding, like the crisp sounds of the Naka River breaking free from its winter ice as spring arrived.
The barriers of the past gradually melted away like morning mist, replaced by the bond beneath the Uchiha fan crest that had never changed!