The Storm Gathers
As patriarch of the Nara clan, Shikaku's wisdom was beyond question.
Of course, he could see right through Nara Kazama's little schemes.
But he chose not to say anything.
After all, Kazama was his brother's son—family by blood and loyalty.
No matter how shrewd Shikaku was, he could never bring himself to crush that youthful ambition.
So, he decided to let things unfold naturally.
Time, after all, had a way of revealing who was truly wise.
With a quiet sigh, Shikaku pushed those thoughts aside and returned to his desk.
He unrolled a scroll and began writing his field report. Every detail from the front lines was recorded with precision—the movements of Kirigakure, the death of the Seven Ninja Swordsmen, and above all, the emergence of Uchiha Jin's Mangekyō Sharingan.
Shikaku knew exactly how to write it.
Not too exaggerated—lest it alarm the Hokage's council.
Not too restrained—lest it appear like he was hiding something.
Every line struck a perfect balance.
When he finished, he sealed the letter and summoned a clan member.
"Saeki," he said. "Deliver this to Hokage-sama immediately. Run the moment you leave camp."
The young man bowed deeply.
"Yes, Commander."
He accepted the sealed scroll with both hands, turned on his heel, and vanished into the night—his shadow stretching briefly under the moonlight before disappearing toward the Land of Fire.
Moments after Saeki's departure, the tent flap lifted again.
An Uchiha soldier stepped in, his tone formal.
"Shikaku-sama! Commander Fugaku requests your presence in the command tent."
Shikaku raised an eyebrow.
"Ah… so it's begun."
Of course he knew why.
With the Seven Ninja Swordsmen dead, Kirigakure's offensive power had been gutted.
Even if the Mizukage or one of their Jinchūriki wanted to retaliate, it would take time.
Now, Konoha held a rare advantage.
And knowing Uchiha Fugaku—the clan head who wore both ambition and duty like armor—he would not let such an opportunity slip away.
"Understood," Shikaku said, rising. "Let's go."
He packed away his documents and followed the Uchiha messenger to the command tent.
When he entered, Fugaku was standing before a massive war map, his eyes gleaming with purpose.
Seeing him like that, Shikaku couldn't help but chuckle softly.
"It seems you really are impatient, Fugaku," he said lightly. "Are you planning to launch a full assault already?"
Fugaku looked up and smiled faintly. "You guessed right. It'd be a waste to hold back when victory is within reach."
He paused, then asked, "What's your opinion, Shikaku?"
The Nara strategist smiled knowingly.
He understood Fugaku's intentions perfectly.
Of course, the Uchiha patriarch wasn't hiding anything.
The destruction of the Seven Ninja Swordsmen was impossible to keep secret—especially since a Nara had been on the team that witnessed it.
In truth, Fugaku didn't want to hide it.
For him, this was a golden opportunity—a moment to remind Konoha's leadership just how powerful the Uchiha truly were.
To show that their clan, far from being a burden, was the sword that protected the Leaf.
If only Fugaku had more experience in politics, he might have realized the danger.
The Mangekyō's awakening would not make the Hokage's circle more cautious.
It would make them more afraid.
And fear made men like Danzo Shimura do terrible things.
"Yes," Shikaku said after a pause, keeping his tone neutral. "I agree. It's a perfect opportunity. If we strike now, we can crush Kirigakure's foothold in the Land of Whirlpools."
He tapped the map lightly. "If we move quickly, we'll gain a strong bargaining position for peace negotiations. I've already informed the village—our diplomats should arrive soon."
Fugaku nodded. He wasn't naïve; he knew conquering Kirigakure outright was impossible.
Every Great Village had deep reserves of strength—Jinchūriki, elite corps, secret jutsu.
Even with their Seven Swordsmen gone, Kirigakure wouldn't crumble easily.
And Konoha couldn't afford to commit everything.
They were still fighting on multiple fronts—against Iwagakure, Kumogakure, and the ever-scheming Sunagakure.
For now, the best path was to seize the momentum and force a ceasefire.
"Understood," Fugaku said firmly. "Then it's decided. Prepare the troops. We attack the Kirigakure camp at dawn tomorrow."
Shikaku nodded, hiding his sigh.
"Troublesome," he muttered quietly.
---
That night, after the war meeting ended, both men returned to their quarters—exhausted but resolute.
Inside Fugaku's tent, several high-ranking Uchiha were already kneeling on one knee, waiting.
As soon as he entered, they bowed deeply.
"Welcome back, Patriarch!"
Fugaku waved them up. "Enough with the formalities," he said sharply. "Tell me—Uchiha Jin. Has he regained consciousness yet?"
There was a trace of impatience in his voice.
He needed to confirm the truth.
If Uchiha Jin had indeed awakened the Mangekyō Sharingan, then he was now one of the clan's most valuable assets.
They had to secure him—before someone else did.
Before Danzo's Root, or even the Hokage's advisors, tried to manipulate him.
"Not yet, sir," said one of the elders. "He remains unconscious. Also, Lord Setsuna has sent word—he requests that Uchiha Jin be returned to the clan immediately to recuperate."
The elder continued, voice grave. "The Mangekyō Sharingan is far too important to risk on the front lines. Until he recovers, Jin must be kept under protection."
The man speaking was Uchiha Tsuru—an elite jōnin and one of the more radical voices in the clan.
For him, Jin's awakening wasn't just a matter of pride—it was a spark that could reignite the Uchiha's long-dimmed glory.
"As long as he lives," Tsuru said, eyes blazing, "our clan will have another pillar of strength. We can't leave him here in danger."
Several others nodded in agreement.
Regardless of faction—whether moderate or radical—all the Uchiha understood what a Mangekyō meant.
It was power.
It was heritage.
It was proof that the blood of their ancestors still burned strong.
And Uchiha Jin, whether he wanted it or not, had become their clan's hope.