Sarutobi Hiyu's words struck the victim's family like a thunderbolt.
"Clan Head… what… what did you just say…?"
The father's voice trembled, his eyes hollow—as if all tears had long dried up.
Sarutobi Hiyu ignored him, locking onto his son instead.
"You didn't mean to. You thought it was a rabbit in the grass. You were just testing your Gōen no Jutsu."
"So this was an accident."
"Right?!"
Even an idiot like Sarutobi Jirō could take a hint.
He nodded frantically, shrieking: "Y-yes!"
"Father, I didn't know! It was all a mistake!"
Hiyu sighed, nodding sagely.
"I see…"
"A tragedy born of misunderstanding."
"How… heartbreaking."
He turned, gripping the father's hands like iron shackles—silencing any protest through pain.
"As a father myself, I feel your grief!"
"Rest assured, even if it was an accident… justice will be served!"
"This wretched boy will be punished—severely!"
"As for your daughter… no amount of gold can bring back the dead…"
"But name your price. I'll pay anything."
The father gaped, mute from agony.
But the grandmother—broken, furious—crawled forward, clutching Hiyu's leg.
"You monsters!"
"We don't want money! No coin can replace our girl!"
"We want him—dead—just like her!"
Her tattered sleeves dragged in the dirt, her wild white hair like dried grass.
Hiyu's eye twitched—murder flickering for a split second before vanishing.
"Granny, I understand…"
"But vengeance breeds vengeance."
"And Jirō didn't mean to kill her."
"He will be disciplined—harshly!"
"But we can't have civilians executing shinobi, can we? What kind of world would that be?"
The crowd murmured—uneasy, complicit.
Yet the grandmother's wail cut through the noise.
"So this is justice?!"
"Shinobi murder, and we just bow?!"
"Because you're clan heads, and we're nothing?!"
"Tell me—TELL ME—"
"IS THIS RIGHT?!"
Silence.
Not a soul answered.
Only Jirō's smirk, hidden but triumphant.
...
"Wrong."
A blade fell like judgment.
Through the crowd.
Through the apathy.
Through the lie.
SCHING!
Blood sprayed.
A head rolled.
The sword stayed clean.
Uchiha Yoru stood silently beside Hiyu—one foot planted on Jirō's severed head.
The headless corpse spasmed, arterial blood erupting like a geyser before collapsing.
Screams erupted.
Hiyu turned slowly—too slowly—eyes locking onto the intruder…
Then the head at his feet.
Then the body behind it.
His pupils dilated—horror, rage, grief detonating in his chest.
"YOU—"
"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!"
Yoru didn't glance at him.
"Duty."
He stepped harder on the head, then strode to the grandmother, offering a hand.
She stared—shocked, then vindicated.
"Who… who are you?!"
"Konoha Military Police. Special Ops Captain."
"Uchiha Yoru."
The name sent ripples through the crowd.
Him.
The butcher.
The extremist.
Yet today—for the first time—his cruelty felt right.
A single thought echoed in every mind:
Has he been the only sane one all along?
No one answered.
"YOU ANIMAL!"
Hiyu snapped—drawing his sword in a blind rage—stabbing for Yoru's back!
"Yoru-SAMA—BEHIND YOU!"
Yoru didn't turn.
His blade did.
CLANG!
Sparks flew as steel shrieked.
"I'LL KILL YOU!"
Hiyu's strikes grew wild, desperate.
Yoru remained ice.
"Obstructing justice. Assaulting an officer."
"Penalty: death."
His chakra flared—sword slamming Hiyu's guard down—before a decapitating slash aimed for the throat!
Hiyu barely leapt back, parrying at the last second—but the force hurled him across the dirt!
Yet even mid-fall, his hands moved—seals forming—
"KATON: GŌEN NO JUTSU!"
Fire erupted—a tsunami of flames to erase Yoru from existence!
Yoru's hands mirrored the motion.
"KATON: RYŪKA NO JUTSU!"
Two infernos clashed—dragons of fire tearing the sky apart—neither yielding!
"ENOUGH!"
A voice—old but absolute—cut through the chaos.
The crowd parted, heads bowing as he approached.
The Third Hokage.
Sarutobi Hiruzen.
Yoru's grip tightened on his sword.
Only then did the ping in his mind register:
Ding!
[You executed Sarutobi Jirō, curing his arrogance. Good deed! +30 Virtue Points.]