Daichi's gaze swept across the chamber.
"Enough," he said simply, his voice not loud but resonant, cutting through the ambient noise with ease.
As if trained by decades of discipline, the assembled Uchiha—chunin, jonin, and young genin alike—fell into silence. Daichi moved forward and ascended a modest wooden platform at the centre of the room, turning to face his clan. Behind him, the Uchiha crest hung proudly on a large banner—red and white against black cloth, the symbol of flame and fan standing tall.
"There are those among you who may not yet know," Daichi began, hands folded behind his back. "But war is coming."
A tension immediately settled over the room. Not the panic of civilians, but the taut readiness of warriors about to be deployed. A few exchanged glances, some frowned, but no one spoke. They knew what it meant when a Uchiha spoke with that tone—blunt, grave, unshaken.
"We do not know precisely when Kumogakure or Sunagakure will make their move," Daichi continued, his voice calm but edged with steel. "But they will. Our intelligence reports suggest a steady buildup of military strength along the northern border—supply chains rerouted, shinobi divisions rotated closer to the Land of Hot Water. The signs are all there."
He let the words settle, the tension rising like steam from a kettle.
"Whether it comes tomorrow, or in a moon's time—it is inevitable. Konoha must be prepared."
Renjiro folded his arms, lips pressed in a firm line. The announcement wasn't unexpected—not after what he had witnessed firsthand in Kirigakure, and not with the recent mission reports that had crossed paths with at the Hokage's office. But still, hearing it spoken aloud in the heart of the Uchiha clan hall, stated so plainly, made it feel real in a way ink on parchment never could.
Daichi's expression did not change. He radiated a calm certainty that made the air feel heavier.
"The Uchiha clan will form the core of the First Division," he declared. "The Assault Division."
A ripple ran through the hall—murmurs, shifting feet, the tightening of shoulders. The name alone carried weight.
"Our role," Daichi said, voice rising slightly to carry over the noise, "will be direct engagement with enemy forces. We are the spearpoint. Close-quarters combat. Shock-and-break formations. We will pierce the enemy's lines and hold the territory we seize."
The murmurs grew louder, the room thick with anticipation. The words First Division echoed against the stone, igniting a cocktail of pride, dread, and curiosity in every corner of the hall.
Renjiro could feel it—the thrill in some, the caution in others. He stole a glance at a few of the older shinobi in the crowd—veterans of the Second Great War. Their faces were like stone, but their eyes betrayed a flicker of unease.
Then Daichi lifted a hand.
Silence returned, swift and absolute.
"I will command the First Division," he said.
Even Renjiro blinked. Gasps, low but sharp, spread like a gust of wind. Daichi himself? The head of the Uchiha clan on the frontlines?
It wasn't unheard of—but it was unprecedented in recent years.
Voices whispered from one corner to the next, especially among the elders who had lived through the years of tension between the Uchiha and the Hokage's office. To see Daichi not only embrace but lead the Village's most dangerous division was—
'Bold,' Renjiro thought again. 'Risky, even. But maybe that's the point.'
Daichi did not wait for the room to catch up.
"I will not lead alone. Clan Heads of the Sarutobi and Akimichi clans will serve as co-commanders. The First Division will be composed primarily of our three clans, with additional support from the assault teams of other clans."
There was a shift in the air—a collective processing of strategy. The Akimichi, known for their devastating strength and battlefield control. The Sarutobi, masters of elemental versatility and long-range tactics. Together with the Uchiha, it was a formidable trinity.
But it also meant the Uchiha wouldn't be acting alone. That detail, Renjiro knew, was crucial.
"Some of you may question this structure," Daichi continued, gaze sweeping the clan hall like a hawk over a field. "But war does not favour the insular. It demands unity. It demands coordination. That is why the Police Corps will be restructured. The command hierarchy will remain—but we will now integrate directly with outside units. Clan cooperation will be mandatory. No exceptions."
There was a pause, then a murmured reaction from a few corners of the hall. Frowns. Furrowed brows. The Uchiha, proud and fiercely independent, were not accustomed to being told who they must fight alongside.
Renjiro understood. But he also knew what isolation cost them.
"The days of operating alone, in silence, on the edge of the village's trust—they are over," Daichi said. "We will show them what it means to stand with Konoha, not just within it. And we will do so from the front."
Another beat passed.
"Effective immediately, all first-rank shinobi in the Police Corps are hereby directly promoted to Squad Leaders," Daichi said, his tone returning to command. "You will each form and train your own squad from the incoming genin graduating this cycle with partial assistance from the current third and fourth ranks. You may select your own members—within reason—but team composition must include at least one non-Uchiha member per squad."
That caused a bigger stir.
A real one.
A chorus of confused voices rose—some surprised, others indignant.
"A forced integration? With kids and people we don't even know?" someone said near the left.
"That'll destroy cohesion. It took months to get my last squad working together!"
"My team just completed Chūnin-prep training. And now I have to start over with rookies?"
Renjiro didn't speak, but he couldn't deny the frustration rising in him too. He remembered the brutal trial-and-error of building his old team. He'd made mistakes. Trusted the wrong instincts. Learned the hard way what it meant to lead. And now that experience might be wiped away for the sake of unity.
Still… he also understood the strategy.
If war was coming, they needed every shinobi—not just the best, not just the Uchiha—to be stronger than the sum of their parts.
Before the grumbling could grow too loud, a sharp pulse of chakra washed over the room. Heavy, unrelenting, commanding.
Daichi's eyes were open again. His Sharingan spun, glowing like twin embers beneath the light.
"If you cannot adapt," he said, voice low but lethal, "then you are not Uchiha. War does not wait for comfort."
The silence returned. Not fearful—respectful. The kind that only came from standing before someone whose presence alone could still your breath.
Renjiro gave a quiet exhale. 'Yeah. That shut everyone up.'
Then Daichi deactivated his Sharingan and took a scroll from one of the aides nearby.
"The restructuring begins now. I will read the names of those chosen as Squad Captains. If your name is called, you will report to me and the First Division command following this meeting. Further orders, assignments, and training regimens will be delivered at that time."
Now the silence was no longer solemn—but electric.
Renjiro could practically feel the anticipation swell. Every back straightened. Every head tilted, listening.
Some older shinobi wore looks of tired hope, while younger ones could hardly keep still. This wasn't just a list—it was a reckoning. A reward. A test of merit, legacy, and politics all wrapped into one.
Renjiro leaned against the wall again, stifling a yawn. 'Honestly, I'd be happy to just stick to my squad leader role. I've got enough on my plate already…'
Daichi's voice was steady as he began.
"Uchiha Genro. Uchiha Fumiko. Uchiha Shinsuke…"
Each name drew murmurs, soft claps, and nudges of acknowledgement. Some drew prideful smiles. Others were met with awe.
"Uchiha Tetsuro. Uchiha Naoko. Uchiha Kai…"
Name after name, the scroll unfurled. Some expected. Some surprises.
Then—name number seventeen.
"Uzumaki Renjiro."
The room paused.
Actually paused.
A half-second beat that felt like an eternity.
Then—
"Wait… did he say Renjiro?" Toru whispered, wide-eyed.
"Renjiro?! Squad Captain?! That's—he's the youngest ever!" Daigo hissed.
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