"Have you thought it through?"
Uchiha Fugaku looked at the boy before him—brooding, intense—and couldn't help but feel a stir of emotion.
He never expected that the person who might one day shift the delicate balance between the Uchiha clan and Konoha wasn't a prominent clan member, nor an elite Chūnin or Jōnin. No, it was a boy. A mere teenager. A boy the clan once considered peripheral.
Uchiha Kai.
Fugaku suspected kai had perhaps only heard his name mentioned in passing—maybe seen it listed on a wartime deployment scroll. The kind issued when the village "requested" Uchiha shinobi for dangerous missions and the clan, in return, submitted names of those considered expendable.
That list rarely included the heirs of prominent bloodlines. Instead, it carried the names of those the elders deemed unworthy of expectation or investment.
But two names stood out from that list.
The first was Uchiha Obito, who had recently awakened his Sharingan—two tomoe in each eye. Tragically, he had been reported dead in the Land of Grass during a failed mission. His body was never recovered.
The second was even more astonishing: Uchiha Kai, a boy barely out of the Academy, who had awakened a fully matured three-tomoe Sharingan.
It didn't add up. According to the clan records, Kai had only recently manifested his Sharingan. Yet on the battlefield, he'd eliminated an elite Iwa demolition unit singlehandedly. Then came the confirmed reports: Kai had also wiped out a squad led by Iwa-nin Shibuki Hiiragi—an established Jōnin commander.
And he had done all of it alone.
Fugaku had initially doubted the reports. Surely there was an error, or perhaps exaggerated war propaganda. But the corroboration from multiple scouts and Konoha's own intel division silenced his doubts. The boy was terrifyingly capable. If he hadn't seen the records himself, Fugaku wouldn't have believed Kei was a recent Sharingan awakener.
And then, Fugaku met him.
From the moment of their conversation, Kai intrigued him. Intelligent. Sharp. And eerily mature for his age. He spoke with a kind of quiet clarity that mirrored Fugaku's own thoughts. That, more than anything, caught the patriarch's attention.
During the memorial service for fallen Konoha shinobi, Kai's attitude and words had further confirmed Fugaku's suspicions. He wasn't just a child with potential. He was a strategist, someone capable of discerning the political fractures forming between Konoha and the Uchiha.
At the last clan assembly, Kai's comments had shocked even the elders. He voiced concerns and ideas that no one his age should have even considered—let alone understood. And yet, his analysis of the situation with the Konoha Council, the Hokage's office, and the clan's reputation in the village was uncomfortably accurate.
Fugaku began watching him more closely.
Strangely, Kai didn't appear to seek attention or political favor. He wasn't ambitious in the traditional Uchiha sense. He read. He trained. He didn't visit Fugaku on his own, nor did he lobby for rank or recognition.
Still, Fugaku's curiosity only deepened after one particular event.
His son—Uchiha Itachi, then just four years old—had wandered near a ravine and nearly fallen. It was Kei who pulled him back.
Fugaku had investigated the incident quietly. Itachi had said little, and his mother had been deeply shaken. Fugaku understood his son's silent nature, but the mere fact that Kai had been there, had acted, changed things.
He owed the boy.
That was what prompted this impromptu conversation.
But what he didn't expect—what truly surprised him—was how Kai casually revealed a theory about the future of the Uchiha, and how deeply he had already begun to decode the inner workings of the Konoha Security Department.
"Patriarch," Kai interrupted Fugaku's thoughts, speaking calmly, "are you planning to reform the Police Force?"
Fugaku narrowed his eyes slightly, then exhaled slowly.
The boy had seen through him again.
"Yes," Fugaku admitted without evasion. "There is too much resentment toward the Uchiha. The clan and the village... are growing distant. I cannot ignore it any longer."
Kai nodded thoughtfully. He had suspected as much. After all, Itachi's later path—joining ANBU, becoming a double agent—was only possible after the Nine-Tails' attack, which hadn't yet occurred in their timeline.
Back then, the ANBU rarely recruited from the Uchiha.
It was no coincidence that both Itachi and Shisui entered the organization after the Nine-Tails disaster, at a time when suspicion of the Uchiha was at its peak. The village elders had used subtle manipulation and alignment of ideals to slowly sway them—especially Shisui, who had always leaned more toward Konoha's ideals.
But now? With no Nine-Tails incident, the village hadn't acted yet. And if Fugaku was already considering reform... Kai's insights were having an impact.
He offered a cautious warning: "It won't be easy, Patriarch. Many in the clan won't support these changes. Some will see it as weakness."
"I know," Fugaku sighed. "But some things require firm hands. Think about it, Kai-kun. I want your advice—how would you begin?"
Before Kai could answer, there was a knock at the door.
"Patriarch," came a voice from outside, "Uchiha Yuu is here."
Kai remained expressionless. Of course. He hadn't hidden his movements—Yuu would have learned of his presence.
Fugaku nodded and stood. "Think about it, Kai-kun. Wait here. I'll speak with Yuu briefly."
"Yes, Patriarch," Kai replied respectfully, standing and bowing.
He watched the patriarch step out, the door closing behind him.
Left alone, Kai scanned the room briefly—until his gaze landed on a document atop Fugaku's desk.
It was a map of the Konoha Military Police patrol routes, newly drawn.
A rare thing to leave out.
Kai narrowed his eyes.
"Seems even the gods want you gone this time... Uchiha Yu," he whispered.