Sasuke looked sharp on the outside, but in reality, he was remarkably gullible.
In the original timeline, whenever Naruto came up with some absurd, half-baked scheme, Sasuke would complain loudly on principle, only to end up tagging along anyway.
Even when faced with his own brother slaughtering their entire clan, Sasuke had been effortlessly hoodwinked by a few dramatic lines from Itachi, genuinely believing it was all just a brutal test of his potential.
Later, Obito Uchiha spoon-fed him a twisted version of the truth, and Sasuke swallowed it whole without a second thought.
This was the very trait Itachi had once described as being like a blank sheet of paper.
Because it was completely blank, anyone could scribble whatever they wanted across it.
To Hinata, it simply meant he was far too easy to fool.
Watching Sasuke drag Naruto outside for a one-on-one duel, Hinata stifled a lazy yawn, pushed the classroom window open, and prepared to slip out.
Noticing her movement, a small hand reached out and tugged at the corner of her shirt.
“Hinata, aren’t you going to wait for Sasuke?”
A lock of soft pink hair swayed before Hinata’s eyes.
“After Sasuke finishes his match with Naruto, he won’t be at his absolute best,” Hinata said, turning to look at Sakura with a dead serious expression as she patted her head.
“How could I ever take advantage of someone like that?
I’m going to wait until tomorrow when Sasuke is fully recovered, then face him in a true, honorable duel!”
“I see…
Hinata really is so fair and noble!”
Taking Hinata’s righteous tone at face value, Sakura nodded in pure admiration.
“Good girl,” Hinata teased, pinching Sakura’s cheek with a light chuckle before hopping out the window and vanishing into thin air.
Not far away, Shikamaru leaned his head back with half-lidded eyes, watching the whole sequence in complete silence.
No matter how one looked at it, Sasuke had just been completely played…
Night fell over the village.
The Uchiha Compound.
“Father, I have disappointed you.”
Having just beaten Naruto, Sasuke stood in the courtyard, staring at Fugaku Uchiha with a face heavy with guilt.
He had explicitly promised his father that he would spar with Hinata today, yet for two days in a row, he had failed to even cross hands with her.
“It is quite alright, Sasuke.
There is no need to pursue this further,” Fugaku said quietly, a thread of silent worry lacing his eyes as he patted his son’s shoulder.
Without another word, he turned and walked toward the Naka Shrine.
Hiashi Hyuga…
by having Hinata avoid a duel with Sasuke, are you trying to tell me that the Hyuga will not get involved in our clash with the village leadership…?
Unfortunately, it is far too late for that.
At this moment, Fugaku couldn’t help but marvel at the Hyuga Clan’s ancient survival philosophy.
They never fought for political power or influence; they simply stood by as silent observers while other factions rose and fell.
It didn’t matter who sat on the Hokage seat; the Hyuga would always offer their quiet, law-abiding support.
Whether a Senju or a Sarutobi held power, the Hyuga never interfered.
Yet his own Uchiha Clan…
Fugaku’s heart weighed heavy.
To gather intelligence straight from the village’s inner circle, he had even sent his eldest son, Itachi, into the Anbu.
Everything he did was for the survival of the clan.
Sasuke stared blankly at his father’s receding back, his hands unconsciously clenching into tight fists.
Did I really fail him that badly?
Tomorrow!
Tomorrow I will definitely fight Hinata!
Night draped over the village like a heavy curtain, washing away the daytime bustle and lulling Konoha into quiet stillness.
Yet beneath that silence lingered an unusually suffocating pressure.
“Lord Hokage, the Uchiha Clan has convened another secret assembly.”
The night breeze rustled the hem of the Hokage’s formal robes.
Hiruzen Sarutobi stood alone atop the roof of the Hokage Residence, gazing down at the village he had watched over for a lifetime.
Hearing the Anbu report from behind him, a wave of complex emotions flooded his chest.
“Is it the same as usual?” Hiruzen lit his pipe, letting a thick cloud of smoke drift from his lips.
“Yes.
The aggressive voices within the clan are growing stronger.” The Anbu agent raised his head slightly, a crimson glow flickering behind his mask—a pair of sharp Sharingan eyes gleaming in the dark.
“I see…”
“Itachi, you have worked hard these past few days,” Hiruzen sighed softly.
Facing the escalating conflict within the Uchiha, he felt entirely powerless, wishing only to buy more time.
Time for the Uchiha to understand his vision, and time for the village to accept the Uchiha.
So all he could do was try his best to pacify both sides.
“Itachi, you should head back.
You’ve been gone for a while.”
The howling night wind carried a bitter chill, leaving Hiruzen feeling deeply uneasy.
Lord Hokage has truly grown old.
On his way back to the Uchiha district, thirteen-year-old Itachi felt the unmistakable signs of Hiruzen’s age for the very first time.
The legendary “Professor,” who had once commanded absolute authority, had lost his sharp edge.
To harbor such naive, idealist hopes while the village teetered on the brink of total chaos…
Itachi glanced back toward the distant Hokage Residence, seeing only a solitary, fragile figure standing atop the roof.
Caw…
A black crow fluttered down, alighting softly on Itachi’s shoulder, making his heart skip a beat.
It was Shisui…
The following morning.
Beneath Konoha’s calm surface, dark ripples continued to spread.
The conflict between the Uchiha Clan and the village leadership was escalating by the day—a knotted cord pulled tighter and tighter from both ends.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!”
“Didn’t you see the notice prohibiting illegal street stalls?!”
“Are you blind, you bastard?!”
Five or six members of the Konoha Military Police Force surrounded a small bun stall along the main avenue, forcibly shoving the cart away.
“Please, sirs!
You can’t do this!
My whole family relies on this stall to eat!” The vendor pleaded desperately, bowing his head to beg for mercy.
“What does that have to do with us?!” a police officer barked coldly.
“You’re operating without a permit and blocking public traffic!
That’s a fine of fifty thousand ryo.
Pay it at the police station within three days!”
The vendor’s desperate cries and the harsh shouts of the police drew a crowd of onlookers along the roadside.
Scenes like this were becoming increasingly common across Konoha.
Initially, when the Uchiha took over the police force, their approach toward civilians had been relatively polite.
Over time, however, they realized that soft persuasion yielded zero results.
Stalls remained where they were, and roads remained blocked.
Eventually, their enforcement methods hardened into the harsh crackdowns seen today.
Coupled with the trauma of the Nine-Tails rampage six years ago—where the beast’s eyes had clearly displayed a massive Three-Tomoe Sharingan pattern, a detail the Uchiha could never truly explain away—and stacked atop the dark historical legacy of Madara and Setsuna Uchiha, the clan found itself shunned not just by ordinary civilians, but by the vast majority of Konoha’s shinobi force as well.
Because of all these compounding factors, the Uchiha Clan, and the Police Force in particular, was thoroughly despised by almost everyone in the village.
Sitting on a low stool outside a nearby shop, Hinata munched on a warm bun, watching the dramatic confrontation unfold with complete detachment.
She was born into the Hyuga Clan; what did the Uchiha’s public relations disaster have to do with her?
She might as well just enjoy the free show.
“Lady Hinata, it’s best we don’t get involved in this.
It has nothing to do with us,” Tokuma whispered, crouching beside her as he gnawed on a piece of bread.
“Do I look like the type to stick my nose into other people’s business?” Hinata rolled her eyes, giving her bodyguard an annoyed glance.
“Yes,” Tokuma replied earnestly, looking back at his young mistress.
“…”
“Stop eating.” Hinata reached over and snatched the half-eaten bread straight out of Tokuma’s hands.