Smoke filled the Hokage’s office.
Hiruzen Sarutobi sat behind his broad desk, holding a report with a furrowed brow.
A massive stack of official paperwork was piled on his desk—the unavoidable daily routine of being the Hokage.
He rubbed his temples and picked up his pipe to take a couple of puffs.
At this point, smoking wasn’t an indulgence; it was pure survival.
“Come in,” he said without looking up.
The door opened, and an Anbu ninja wearing an animal mask flickered into the room, dropping to one knee.
“Hokage-sama.” “Speak,” Hiruzen Sarutobi said, setting the report down.
“What’s the situation with the Uchiha?” “Yes, sir,” the Anbu replied in a flat voice.
“The Ninja Academy’s first practical exam has concluded.
The Uchiha Clan’s new generation…
performed exceptionally well.” “Exceptionally well?” Hiruzen lifted his eyelids.
“In what way?” “Obito Uchiha, Class 1-A, defeated Aoki Uchiha in the taijutsu assessment.
Aoki’s father is a Jonin, and Aoki has undergone systematic training since childhood.” Hiruzen raised an eyebrow.
“Obito?
That…
kid who’s always late?” “Yes.
However, during this exam, he utilized a completely new defensive taijutsu style.
He tanked a full-power strike from Aoki and counterattacked to secure victory.” “A new taijutsu style?” Hiruzen smiled slightly and took another puff from his pipe.
“What else?” “There is also Makoto Uchiha,” the Anbu said.
“Class 1-A.
He scored 80 on the theoretical exam and easily defeated his opponent in the practical assessment.” Many considered him to be the strongest prodigy of the first-year class.
The office fell silent for a few seconds, save for the faint crackle of tobacco burning in the pipe.
“Makoto Uchiha…” Hiruzen repeated the name.
“How is his actual talent?” “From what we can tell, he is very strong,” the Anbu answered.
“He remains undefeated in combat.
His taijutsu, ninjutsu, and tactical awareness far surpass those of his peers.
However…” “However what?” “However, he has not yet reached the level Fugaku Uchiha was at in his youth.” Hiruzen nodded.
If he wasn’t on Fugaku’s level, then it was manageable.
One prodigy like Fugaku per generation was enough.
If two appeared at once, Konoha wouldn’t be able to handle it.
“Keep observing them,” he instructed.
“Especially Makoto Uchiha.
Report to me once a week.” “Understood.” The Anbu bowed and prepared to leave.
“Wait,” Hiruzen called out to him.
“Find out who taught Obito Uchiha that ‘self-created taijutsu.'” “We are already investigating.
Preliminary assessments suggest it may be related to Makoto Uchiha.
The two have been quite close recently.” “Makoto Uchiha…” Hiruzen repeated the name once more.
“Very well, dismissed.” The Anbu vanished.
Hiruzen was left alone once again with the endless stack of paperwork.
He picked up his pipe, took a drag, and the door was pushed open.
No one had knocked this time.
Hiruzen didn’t even need to look up to know who it was.
In all of Konoha, only one person dared to walk into the Hokage’s office without knocking.
“Danzo,” he said without looking up.
“Remember to knock next time.” “A waste of time.” Danzo Shimura walked in leaning on his cane, half his face wrapped in bandages, his exposed eye as sharp as a hawk’s.
“I hear the Uchiha have produced more prodigies?” “You’re well-informed as always,” Hiruzen said.
“I have my sources in the Anbu,” Danzo said matter-of-factly.
“Obito Uchiha and Makoto Uchiha.
Two six-year-old brats—one can apparently invent his own taijutsu, while the other makes his opponent injure their own foot just by kicking him.
Hiruzen, don’t you think this is dangerous?” “Dangerous how?” Hiruzen set his pipe down.
“They’re just two children.” “Children?” Danzo sneered.
“Uchiha children capable of this at six years old?
What happens when they’re sixteen?
Or twenty-six?
Who in Konoha will be able to keep them in check then?” Hiruzen didn’t answer.
He knew what Danzo was driving at.
Danzo had been singing the exact same tune for years.
“The Uchiha Clan’s older generation has Fugaku, Yashiro, Inabi, and a whole slew of Jonin,” Danzo said, stepping up to the window and looking out in the direction of the Uchiha compound.
“If several more genius shinobi emerge in this new generation…
tell me, Hiruzen, does that seem normal to you?” “Konoha needs geniuses,” Hiruzen said.
“Konoha needs *obedient* geniuses.” Danzo turned around, his single eye locked onto Hiruzen.
“Uchiha prodigies are never obedient.” Hiruzen fell silent for a moment before asking in return, “So what do you propose?” “Control,” Danzo said.
“Talented Uchiha must either be nipped in the bud or brought under our absolute control.
I suggest the latter—have them join Foundation.” Hiruzen chuckled.
“Danzo, do you really think the Uchiha would agree to that?” “They don’t need to agree.
They only need to be ‘voluntary.'” “Voluntary how?
Through genjutsu?
Drugs?
Or by threatening their families?” Hiruzen’s tone turned cold.
“Danzo, this is Konoha, not your Foundation.” “Then what is your solution?” Danzo retorted.
“Leave them be and let them grow?
Wait until they become so strong we can no longer control them, and then regret it?” Hiruzen said nothing.
He picked up his pipe, took a puff, then another.
Through the swirling smoke, his expression became indistinct.
“Danzo,” he finally said.
“Do you realize the situation Konoha is currently in?” Danzo didn’t respond.
“Lord First is dead, Madara Uchiha defected, and Lord Second died in battle.” “It’s only been a few years since the Second Great Ninja War ended.
The Konoha of today is no longer the powerhouse that kept the other Four Great Nations under its heel.” “Kumogakure is making restless moves at the border, while Iwagakure, Sunagakure, and Kirigakure are all watching us like hawks.” “Skirmishes with other hidden villages are happening constantly.
We cannot afford internal strife—not even a fraction of it.” “So you’re just going to sit back and watch the Uchiha grow unchecked?” Danzo asked.
“It isn’t letting them run wild,” Hiruzen said.
“It’s buying time.
Konoha needs time to recover its strength, and it needs the new generation to grow up.
They are all the future of Konoha.
Our job isn’t to control them—it’s to guide them.” “Guide them?” Danzo scoffed.
“Hiruzen, you’re too naive.
Treachery runs in the very blood of the Uchiha.
Lord Second said so himself.” “Lord Second also said that the Uchiha are a part of Konoha,” Hiruzen said, looking directly at him.
“Danzo, don’t forget that Kagami Uchiha was your teammate, as well as mine.
He died fighting for Konoha.” Danzo fell silent.
A flicker of emotion passed through his single eye.
“Kagami was an exception,” he finally muttered.
The two men stared at each other.
The air was heavy with the smell of tobacco smoke and an even weightier tension.
“I will not permit it,” Hiruzen said decisively.
“Makoto Uchiha and Obito will grow up normally in the Academy.
The Anbu will keep an eye on them, but that’s all.
Danzo, I will not tolerate you stepping out of line.” Danzo stared at him for a long time.
Then, he let out a laugh—cold, hard, like a rock frozen in winter.
“You haven’t changed at all, Hiruzen,” he said.
“Indecisive, driven by foolish sentimentality.
One day, you will regret this.” With that, he turned and hobbled toward the door with his cane.
At the doorway, he paused.
“By the way,” he said without looking back, “I’ll have my people make contact with that Makoto Uchiha.
Just a casual contact—nothing more.
Surely you have no objections to that?” Hiruzen remained silent.
Taking it as tacit approval, Danzo left and closed the door behind him.
Silence settled over the office once more.
Hiruzen sat in his chair, gazing out the window.
“Makoto Uchiha…”