Before answering, Uchiha Yato posed a rhetorical question that immediately captured everyone's attention.
"If we teach ninjutsu to the younger generation," he asked, his tone calm yet pointed, "how will Konoha Village's reward system respond?"
The room fell silent for a moment, and then a wave of realization passed through the assembled Uchiha elders and jonin. Indeed, they were still residents of Konoha, and if the village's larger policies and regulations were ignored, outsiders could easily misinterpret the clan's intentions. A simple act of teaching ninjutsu could be seen as a power grab if they weren't careful.
Uchiha Kai, ever pragmatic, frowned slightly and asked, "Are you suggesting that we simply ignore the civilian ninjas entirely?"
At that moment, the Great Elder seemed to have a solution. Adjusting his robes, he said thoughtfully, "We cannot openly teach ninjutsu to the children, at least not yet. However, we can exchange our experiences and insights among ourselves."
Uchiha Yato's lips curled into a small smile, a sign of his satisfaction. This was exactly the kind of discussion he wanted: collaborative, inclusive, and yet careful. He knew that only through active participation from all factions could the initiative gain depth and credibility. If the elders and jonin simply listened to him without engaging, outsiders might suspect that he was pushing an agenda of personal gain rather than collective improvement.
Yato continued, echoing the Great Elder's sentiment, "Our clan's Fire Release techniques are well-known, but mastery doesn't have to mean instruction. Sharing our experiences and strategies can enrich everyone without exposing the children to risks."
The words resonated deeply with the Uchiha senior ninjas. Their eyes lit with understanding. They saw that this method allowed them to improve their own abilities while fostering stronger bonds across the clan. Slowly, the previously rigid atmosphere softened, and more ninjas began raising questions, their curiosity piqued.
The discussion gradually expanded. Senior ninjas, previously silent, now actively contributed after raising their hands. Opinions flowed from the pro-war faction, the traditionalists, and even those who had often been quiet observers. This was precisely the collaborative dynamic Uchiha Yato hoped to see—one where ideas were shared, not dictated.
After a long session of discussion, Uchiha Kai, the clan leader, stood. The room immediately quieted. His voice was calm but firm.
"Then, let it be settled," he said. "The second dojo shall henceforth be called Uchiha Kindergarten."
A murmur of approval spread through the room.
He continued, outlining the framework clearly. "Each jonin who takes up teaching duties here will receive a stipend of three thousand ryo at the end of their term. The required ninjutsu will not be taught in the traditional sense; it will be earned through the children's diligent effort."
He paused to glance at the assembled elders and senior ninjas, then concluded, "That is all for now. Does anyone have any objections?"
For the first time in a long while, the room resonated with unanimous agreement. The three factions of the Uchiha—traditionalists, pro-war, and reformists—were united. Despite differing philosophies, they shared a singular goal: to ensure the prosperity and development of the clan. This initiative, designed to cultivate the next generation, was a step forward in both skills and cohesion. With everyone's participation, it promised to strengthen the clan from the inside out.
Uchiha Yato, however, had one final question that drew everyone's attention. He leaned forward slightly, his eyes glinting with mischief.
"How exactly do you plan to convince the children to attend Uchiha Kindergarten?"
The question struck the elders immediately. They understood the subtext. As the former child king of Konoha Village, Uchiha Yato possessed a wealth of unconventional ideas and strategies. The mere suggestion of his involvement hinted at an approach both rigorous and unpredictable.
They remained silent, knowing that Yato's methods were legendary for being both creative and strict. All that was needed from them was a show of support. Once the authorization was given, Yato could manage the children in his own unique way.
The second elder, known for his volatility, finally spoke. "I know you have countless tricks and strategies at your disposal. So… tell me, what is your plan?"
Uchiha Yato smiled—a smile that appeared harmless yet carried the weight of inevitable mischief.
"I won't reveal the method," he said simply. "I only need your permission and a formal notice to the families. The children of all jonin households here are expected to meet the training requirements. Beyond that, leave it to me."
The Great Elder and Uchiha Kai exchanged glances, their expressions unreadable. Inwardly, they sighed. Sure enough… this monkey has a plan.
Uchiha Kai finally spoke, his tone measured but strict. "No injuries or permanent disabilities are allowed. The illusions you are known for must not be used on them. And under no circumstances shall they face public humiliation."
He then surveyed the room of senior ninjas, ensuring that their support was unanimous. "With these conditions observed, you have my authority. Any further matters can be discussed as they arise. That will be all for now."
With the authorization secured, Uchiha Yato left Nanga Shrine, a satisfied grin spreading across his face. Outside, he was already planning the "storm" that awaited the children—his way of fostering resilience and ingenuity.
Meanwhile, the senior Uchiha convened to discuss preventive measures. They knew Yato's methods could be extreme, so they decided that someone must always be present during his teaching sessions. The responsibility fell to Uchiha Ren. Despite the challenges, he accepted the duty with a sense of pride. After all, serving as a safeguard against Yato's mischief was a way to protect the clan's children.
Ren's task was grueling. For six consecutive days, he lived alongside Yato and Shisui, observing, assisting, and intervening when necessary. The hours were long, and his patience was tested repeatedly. Yet, under the watchful eyes of the elders and the clan leader, he remained committed, understanding the importance of nurturing the next generation.
Nightfall brought a rare moment of peace at the Great Elder's residence. Uchiha Yato played with Uchiha Shisui, the boy laughing freely for the first time that day. The Great Elder observed quietly, a rare smile softening his weathered features. Watching these two children, he felt a warmth that came from knowing the clan's future was, at least for now, in safe hands.
Yato crouched beside Shisui, his voice gentle. "Do you want to go to school and meet more friends?"
Shisui thought for a moment, his brow furrowed. "Is it fun? The Great Elder works so hard every day. I… I want to stay with him."
Yato nodded knowingly. Shisui was still a blank canvas, and the direction of his life had, until now, been largely shaped by the adults around him. In the original timeline, by the age of seventeen, Shisui's fate had been tragic—Danzo had stolen his eyes, leaving him with nothing but regret and disillusionment. He had jumped into the Nanga River, hoping to spare the clan further suffering. That outcome, however, would not occur here.
Yato leaned closer, his voice calm but firm. "It's not for me to decide if it will be fun. You need to see for yourself."
He gestured gently. "When the Great Elder is away during the day, you'll have freedom. When you're older, you'll explore even more. You have to learn to observe, to question, and to make your own choices."
The Great Elder nodded in agreement, adding, "Shisui, Yato is right. Some things may seem good to us, but they may not be good for you. You must think for yourself, not simply follow instructions blindly."
Shisui's eyes brightened slightly as understanding dawned. A spark of independent thought flickered within him—a crucial development. Even in the original timeline, this spark had driven him to awaken the Mangekyō Sharingan, setting in motion events that ultimately led to tragedy. Here, under Yato's careful guidance, it would instead cultivate wisdom and discernment.
"Then… I want to go out and see different people," Shisui said after a pause, his voice soft but determined.
Yato corrected him gently, "Not just different Uchiha, Shisui. You live in Konoha Village. There are many people here, not all Uchiha. Listen more, observe more, and understand more. Only then can you live happily and freely."
The Great Elder watched silently, feeling a sense of pride and hope. With guidance and freedom, Shisui was learning to think proactively, to weigh decisions, and to question the world around him. These were invaluable skills that would protect him from becoming a mere tool in someone else's hands—a fate that had befallen so many Uchiha before him.
Finally, after thorough discussion and ideological guidance, it was decided: Shisui would attend Uchiha Kindergarten. The decision was both practical and symbolic. Here, he would begin to forge his own path, guided by experience, observation, and personal choice.
Meanwhile, Yato quietly set about planning his next moves. A "storm" was coming for the Uchiha children, but under his guidance, it would be a storm that honed them, rather than harmed them. In nurturing both the mind and spirit, Yato was determined to shape a generation that could safeguard the clan's legacy while also carving out their own destinies.
The future of the Uchiha, once teetering on the edge of tragedy, now seemed bright with possibility. And at the center of this transformation stood Uchiha Yato, the boy king of Konoha, orchestrating both chaos and wisdom in equal measure.
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