The day after lunch, a courier knocked at the Uchiha residence. He was silent but insistent, holding a scroll sealed with the Hokage's insignia.
"Fugaku Uchiha is to report to the Hokage's office immediately," he said in an official tone, as if reading out a sentence.
Fugaku didn't rush headlong. He nodded, closed the door behind him, and began preparing at an unhurried pace. He pulled on his black shinobi uniform, fastened his cloak, tied the forehead protector with the symbol of Konoha, and gathered four neatly arranged folders of observations. Every movement was precise, his calm — absolute.
The Hokage's office differed little from any administrative building. Desks, paperwork, clerks… Only in Konoha did every clerk carry kunai, and katana hung on the walls beside calendars. As Fugaku passed, the staff's gazes pierced his back as if each one was ready to strike first. The Uchiha clan crest on the back of the police captain's cloak was a target.
He was led to the council chamber — a sealed, dark room without windows. There was no need to track time here. Just artificial light, a table, and faces.
At one end of the table sat the Hokage. Hiruzen Sarutobi looked, as always, kind and composed — red and white robes, straight posture, and the face of a teacher ready to listen to a troubled student. Beside him, like a shadow, hunched and coiled like an old snake, sat Shimura Danzo. A sharingan was hidden under his bandaged eye. His expression held open contempt, like an executioner certain of the condemned man's guilt but lacking proof.
"Welcome, Fugaku," Hiruzen began softly, nodding. "We need to talk."
"I'm surprised it took you this long," Fugaku remarked with a short snort as he took his seat. He placed the folders on the table, but didn't offer them. "The Nine-Tails was controlled using the Sharingan. That's a fact. And not just any Sharingan — only the Mangekyo can dominate such a creature."
Hiruzen nodded, as if he'd just heard the correct answer from a textbook.
"Mangekyo is an extremely rare manifestation," Fugaku continued. "It can only be awakened under exceptional circumstances. As far as I know, none of the currently living Uchiha have reported awakening it."
"Exactly," Danzo rasped. "Shinobi are used to hiding their powers. The perpetrator works from the shadows. He has a Mangekyo, he could have killed the Fourth. Who else could do that but the head of the Uchiha clan?"
Hiruzen shot him a look that mixed irritation with a silent warning.
Fugaku didn't move.
"Let's say I do have the Mangekyo." His voice turned icy. "Do you think I'd tell you? Or let your executioners rip out my people's fingernails looking for answers?"
Danzo scoffed and turned away.
"I told you," he muttered to Hiruzen. "We're just wasting time."
Sarutobi closed his eyes, weary for a moment.
Fugaku sat still, like a statue carved from stone — but inside, his mind ticked with the precision of a clockmaker. The Hokage hadn't summoned him for a conversation. He was checking where the armor might crack. And Danzo was already driving the wedge. Which meant that something bigger was coming — something more than just a formal inquiry.
"We're not accusing you, Fugaku," Hiruzen said politely, his voice soft, almost fatherly. "You understand — the situation is extremely delicate."
"Your detectives have hit a wall," Fugaku replied without a trace of emotion. "Now you've come to me. Of course, not for interrogation. The head of the Uchiha clan won't let his people be tortured. So you're taking a subtler approach — pressing on reason. You'll say the people of Konoha are afraid of us, that the rumors are spreading. And for the sake of peace, we must give up our land… and relocate to the outskirts."
His tone was calm and weary, but every word was a blade.
"That way, you kill two birds with one stone. You give the land to those in need — and the Uchiha gain some hollow prestige. Out on the edge, we'll be far from the center… and less of a nuisance to their eyes. Convenient."
Hiruzen remained composed. Only a slight tilt of his head betrayed that the blow had landed. But he didn't deny it.
"How did you know?" he asked simply, adjusting his beard.
Fugaku gave a faint smirk.
"Because I would've done the same. It's logical. Politics is a game with clear rules." His gaze snapped sharply to Danzo. "And you, I'm sure, have already picked the location. With underground tunnels and good acoustics. So you can listen to our every step."
Not a single muscle moved on Danzo's face. Only the slightest twitch of an eyebrow.
"Yes, I know," Fugaku went on, as if ignoring his silent fury. "Because I think like you."
"Then you understand," said Hiruzen, and for the first time his voice grew firmer, "that I have no choice. The village is buzzing. People are afraid. Everyone's whispering about the Sharingan in the Nine-Tails' eyes. If I don't respond, panic will consume Konoha. I must relocate your clan — for peace."
Fugaku stared straight ahead, stone-faced, without pity or fear.
"Naturally, without surveillance," Hiruzen added, shooting a sharp look at Danzo. "The Uchiha will receive new land. Clean land."
Danzo said nothing. His silence was louder than any words.
Fugaku pulled out the four folders and tossed them onto the table. The papers spread out with a muffled rustle before the Hokage and his advisor.
"The Uchiha clan will not abandon its land," he said. "These materials will help you understand how serious I am."
Hiruzen frowned, took the first folder, and opened it. Page by page — lines, lists, habits, schedules.
"What is this?" he asked coldly.
"The daily patterns of Konoha's key figures," Fugaku explained calmly. "The Sharingan grants photographic memory. And my patrols — they're observant boys. Sometimes they get bored. That's when they start noticing… interesting things. Like the academy director's favorite meal. Or what time the head medic leaves the hospital. Valuable data for anyone who knows how to use a weakness."
"And the other folders?" Danzo asked, barely containing a rasp.
Fugaku glanced at him, his voice steady as steel.
"The same. Four folders in total. One for each of the Great Villages."
"This is treason," Danzo spat, his voice like ice.
Fugaku leaned forward slightly. His voice dropped — but became far more dangerous.
"This is insurance. A guarantee you won't do anything stupid. All the copies are outside Konoha. In the hands of someone I trust. If I don't send him a password every twenty-four hours — the folders go out to their destinations."
He turned his gaze to Hiruzen. There was no anger in his eyes. Only resolve.
"My clan wouldn't even need to fight to destroy Konoha. We would simply leave. At night. And then you'd be left alone. After the Nine-Tails attack — weakened, disoriented. How will you stand against united enemies… without the strongest clan in the village?"
Silence fell over the room. Thick. Heavy. Dangerous.
And in that moment, everything that had happened until now stopped being political maneuvering — it became open blackmail.
"Fugaku, this blackmail only hurts your cause," Hiruzen said wearily. "Right now, you're acting like a criminal."
"And you two — like fools," Fugaku said without a hint of irony. "Someone dangled a carrot in front of you. And in chasing it blindly, you're ready to drag the village into civil war."
"We conducted a thorough investigation," Hiruzen countered. "There were no traces. Not a single lead."
"The mistake is in your premise," Fugaku folded his arms across his chest. "Why assume it was an Uchiha? Our clan's eyes can be transplanted into anyone. Where is Uchiha Madara's body now?"
He turned his heavy gaze on Danzo.
"He was the only one who ever controlled the Nine-Tails. Until recently."
Hiruzen lowered his eyes.
"The body was stolen," he admitted. "The Mangekyo Sharingan was lost during the Second Hokage's era."
"My ancestor was a fool to entrust you with Madara's body," Fugaku said coldly. "But the fact remains: someone could've used those eyes to control the Nine-Tails again. And you're looking in the wrong direction."
"You're deflecting," Danzo snorted. "Trying to draw attention away. If it weren't for your clan's strategic value, you'd already be rotting in a cell with your kin."
Fugaku looked at him with icy emptiness.
"Did you interrogate the Nine-Tails?" he asked suddenly. "In an investigation, it's important to question everyone who was at the scene of the crime."
"Interrogate a demon?" Danzo scoffed with disgust. "Ridiculous!" He shot a glare at Hiruzen. "Why are we even listening to him? He rejected your proposal — let him leave. Let's see how long he lasts outside Konoha."
Hiruzen said nothing. The game had gone too far. He hadn't come prepared for stakes like this.
"During the war, some of my men made contact with a jinchūriki," Fugaku continued calmly. "With direct eye contact, the Sharingan could enter the host's mental world. They saw the cage. And the demon behind it. I can do the same — and question the Nine-Tails."
"Impossible," Danzo snapped. "You won't be allowed near the jinchūriki."
"Who's going to stop me?" Fugaku asked evenly. "You?"
Danzo stood up abruptly, his fingers twitching near his belt where kunai were hidden beneath the fabric.
"Don't tempt fate," he growled. "I'm a jōnin. Leader of Root."
Fugaku stepped closer, eyes unwavering.
"A title handed down through connections. Everything you've achieved — through scheming and backroom deals. You sit in the dark, hiding behind others. And only when your opponent is bound do you go for the throat."
He leaned in, almost whispering:
"Shimura Danzo, you're a coward."
Fugaku studied his face — measuring, calculating, catching every micro-reaction. And he saw it: the faintest twitch of a pupil. A flicker. But enough.
The words had hit home.
"Uchiha Kagami told me how the Second Hokage died," Fugaku went on, his voice cold as a blade. "How you were surrounded by enemies. How someone had to stay behind for the others to escape. How Tobirama stood before you, choosing. And how your knees trembled with fear, Danzo. Trembled because you were afraid to die."
He took another step forward. Face to face.
"You were a coward then. And you still are. And every morning, when you look in the mirror — you know it."
Danzo exploded. His fist — a flash of rage — flew at Fugaku's face. But the Sharingan flared crimson. For everyone else, it happened in an instant, but for Fugaku it was slow — almost lazy. He caught Danzo's arm, twisted it behind his back, and slammed his face into the table with a dull thud.
Danzo groaned, smearing blood across the wood. Hiruzen stood from his chair, and for a moment, his presence radiated dangerous power — the kind that had once burned armies to ash on the battlefield.
"Self-defense," Fugaku said coolly, releasing Danzo.
"You knocked out two of my teeth!" Danzo rasped, spitting blood.
"Now you look slightly more tolerable," Fugaku smirked. "And since you're headed to the hospital — get rid of the Sharingan while you're there. I don't care if Kagami entrusted it to you. I'm the head of the Uchiha clan, and I revoke his dying wish. I won't allow Konoha to lose another Sharingan, like it did with Madara's eyes."
He stepped closer, his voice lower — but far more terrifying.
"By morning, I want that eye on my desk. Intact. Undamaged. Trust me, Danzo, you don't want me to come for it myself. If my fingers reach your socket — you'll wish you'd chosen a surgeon's scalpel instead."
Danzo left, nearly staggering, shoulders slumped — like a beaten dog slinking away into the mud. To challenge the Uchiha clan leader's decision regarding the fate of a Sharingan wouldn't just be politically reckless — it would be plain stupid.
The room had emptied. Only two remained: Hiruzen and Fugaku.
Silence pressed in. The air still hummed with the tension of a fight barely avoided.
"That was… excessive," Hiruzen said slowly. "You weren't like this before, Fugaku. You never allowed yourself to be."
"War changes people," Fugaku replied, as if stating the weather. "Some break. Others harden. You made an offer. I didn't like it. Now — hear mine."
Hiruzen raised an eyebrow. His eyes said, I'm listening. But you're walking a razor's edge.
"I understand you as a politician," Fugaku began evenly, but firmly. "Running a village and running a clan — it's the same thing. Balancing ambition and fear, other people's interests and your own responsibility. You try to please everyone and end up angering them all."
Hiruzen nodded silently. His gaze was tired but attentive.
"Konoha was attacked. People are dead. The survivors want someone to blame. You know that. Your proposal to relocate the Uchiha — it's a bold gesture. A show of strength. But you're no strategist if you think it'll work."
Fugaku's voice turned cold.
"It's a patch. And soon, it will tear. We will not accept being cast out of the village we helped build. The people will spit at our backs — and we'll spit back. Sooner or later, it will ignite into war. Internal war. Can Konoha survive that? No."
"What are you proposing?" Hiruzen snapped. "Stop circling."
"Give the people blood," Fugaku replied curtly. "They need an enemy. We'll give them one. An official execution. A criminal responsible for the Fourth's death."
"We don't have one," Hiruzen said, narrowing his eyes. "Or are you planning to sacrifice one of your own?"
"The Uchiha won't be scapegoats," Fugaku said sharply. "None of ours. That would shatter trust — in us, and in you. The people would think you nurtured a snake in your home. It has to be clean. Believable. So… Uchiha Obito."
"He's dead," Hiruzen said slowly. "His name is on the memorial stone."
"His name, yes. But the body? Buried under rubble. No one knows where. We'll create the image: a scavenger finds the body, steals the Sharingan, becomes a weapon of destruction."
"And his origin?" Hiruzen's gaze sharpened. "Call him a Stone-nin, and we're at war by morning."
"Not from any village," Fugaku replied. "From a terrorist organization. Say, Akatsuki. They've been sighted on the fringes. Too little intel for anyone to disprove. Tomorrow, you pull a nameless prisoner from a cell and declare him a terrorist. The thief of Obito's eye. The instigator of the Nine-Tails' attack. He's executed. The people get their sacrifice. We get our peace. And Konoha… gets another chance to survive."
Hiruzen fell into thought. One minute. Then two. His eyes reflected the war within — politics against conscience. Truth against survival.
"It's a functional plan," he admitted. "But why should I trust you? What if you were the one who controlled the Nine-Tails? What if you staged all of this?"
Fugaku wasn't surprised. He merely tapped a finger on the folders still lying on the table.
"You don't have a choice, Hiruzen. Words and oaths won't prove my innocence. There's only one way — to catch the real perpetrator. Until we do, we need a fragile, but functional alliance."
He extended a hand.
"Let's not play by someone else's rules. Let's not be turned against each other. The enemy of my enemy…"
Hiruzen slowly took the offered hand.
"…is my friend," he finished. "I hope you truly understand what you're doing."
"Saving Konoha," Fugaku replied.
/////
Author notes:
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