Three years ago, the Nine-Tails' claws and flames tore the heart of Konoha to shreds. Yet beneath the ravaged ruins lay unexpected opportunity for the village's reconstruction.
Originally, Konoha was merely a settlement carved out by the Senju and Uchiha after their historic truce—who could have foreseen it would expand into this behemoth housing tens of thousands?
The various ninja clans that joined later created a chaotic patchwork of territories scattered throughout the village, like stubborn bone fragments embedded deep within Konoha's development, hampering any systematic planning.
The Nine-Tails catastrophe served as brutal surgery, clearing away those obstructive fragments and finally allowing Konoha to regrow according to a more rational blueprint.
Now the village centered absolutely on the Hokage Building, with residential and commercial districts clearly demarcated. The clan compounds once scattered throughout were collectively relocated to the village outskirts. In this great reshuffling, Konoha's premier clan—the Uchiha—found themselves assigned to the most remote and marginal position.
The official reason was dignified: facilitating the Military Police Force's patrol duties and maintaining order.
However, every Konoha ninja who survived that blood-soaked night bore the image of crimson Sharingan spinning within the Nine-Tails' pupils.
This iron evidence silently proclaimed the Uchiha's connection to that disaster. Facing this near-explicit exile, Uchiha Fugaku, despite towering rage and bone-deep humiliation, could only grit his teeth and swallow it in silence.
At the entrance to the Uchiha compound, a small figure already waited. Uchiha Itachi wore deep-blue clan robes bearing the symbolic fan emblem, his calm black eyes watching Shuji approach.
"Shuji-senpai." Itachi bowed slightly, his voice clear and steady. "Father ordered me to wait and escort you."
"Thank you, Itachi." Shuji nodded, studying the boy. He sensed Itachi was even more reserved today than usual.
With his Special Jōnin status confirmed, Shuji was beginning to fulfill his team leader duties.
Itachi's assignment to the squad was settled—yet involving an eight-year-old in B-rank dangers demanded a necessary meeting with his guardian: the Uchiha clan head.
Though Shuji himself had been licking blades at the border by age eleven, the ninja world's unspoken understanding drew a line between eight and eleven—the former still belonged in the academy, the latter could take up arms.
"Is this Senpai's first visit to the Uchiha compound?" Itachi led the way, tone unchanged.
"Yes. I've been stationed at the border with few chances to return." Shuji followed while discreetly surveying their surroundings.
The Uchiha compound felt enclosed by invisible walls.
Past the somewhat deserted entrance, the interior revealed another world entirely. Clean, orderly streets flanked by traditional Japanese-style houses.
Unlike the bustling commercial district at Konoha's center, the shops here were modest but comprehensive: general stores selling ninja tools and daily goods, taverns wafting cooking aromas, even an elegant confectionery displaying refined dango and sushi behind its windows.
Few pedestrians moved about—mostly Uchiha clansmen in deep-blue robes nodding politely and conversing quietly, forming a tight, self-contained community.
The air carried a sense of isolation from the outside world, as if this were an independent micro-village beyond Konoha proper.
Shuji keenly noticed the occasional glances directed at him—scrutinizing, curious, even… faintly cold. Civilian women and children showed mostly curiosity and slight unease, while passing Uchiha shinobi regarded him with knife-sharp wariness and assessment.
The moment he stepped through the compound entrance, Shuji's pace hitched imperceptibly.
Not from internal surveillance, but from a more distant, hidden watching presence locked onto the Uchiha compound's main gate.
"Big brother! Big brother!" A childish, excited voice suddenly rang from a nearby alley.
A tiny figure in miniature deep-blue clan robes shot out like a cannonball—approximately three-year-old Uchiha Sasuke. Completely ignoring the stranger beside his brother, he charged with pure momentum, wrapping around Itachi's leg and gazing up with grape-black eyes sparkling with adoration and joy: "Big brother! Play shuriken with me! Right now!"
Itachi's usually age-defying composure melted instantly. Infinite tenderness filled his eyes as he bent down, gently tousling Sasuke's soft black hair, voice soft: "Sasuke, big brother must escort Senpai to see Father. Later, okay?"
Sasuke's small mouth formed an immediate pout, his face scrunched with disappointment and large eyes seeming to shimmer—but he obediently nodded, reluctantly releasing his grip. His curious gaze circled Shuji once before he ran back toward the alley with frequent backward glances.
Fugaku's figure had appeared at the main residence entrance, silently observing this scene with an expressionless face—yet when his profound gaze shifted to Shuji after Sasuke departed, it carried indescribable complexity.
Itachi straightened, nodding to Shuji to continue, his face restored to usual calm.
They soon reached the impressive mansion. Itachi stopped at the entrance, respectfully stepping aside: "Senpai, Father awaits inside."
Fugaku's gaze already locked on Shuji.
Shuji nodded his thanks, removed his shoes, and stepped onto the entryway. Itachi remained quietly in the outer corridor's shadows.
Uchiha Fugaku stood in the inner hall—tall as a pine, face still as water, wearing dark clan robes. His calm eyes held aloof assessment as they fixed on Shuji.
"Shuji-jōnin." Fugaku's voice was deep and steady, revealing no emotion—merely confirming identity. "I've long heard of your distinguished border service and recent promotion to Special Jōnin. Quite impressive for one so young."
"Fugaku-sama is too kind. Duty demands diligence." Shuji bowed appropriately, neither servile nor arrogant.
Fugaku gestured sideways: "Please."
They entered the reception room, kneeling across from each other on tatami. Itachi's mother, Uchiha Mikoto, served tea then withdrew, leaving only fragrant air and subtle tension.
Contrary to Shuji's expectations, Fugaku didn't discuss mission risks or offer instructions. He lifted his teacup, beginning casually: "I hear you've lived in the western outskirts' old estate? Under Lady Momoka's personal care and instruction?"
"Yes, I've always been under Grandmother's guidance." Shuji replied calmly, also lifting his cup.
Fugaku set down his cup with a soft clink. "I've heard Shuji-jōnin's ninjutsu is excellent—mastery of all five elements. Border experience truly forges one."
"Circumstances demanded extensive practice."
Fugaku nodded without elaboration. Shifting topics, he gazed toward the paper door and garden: "What impression does our compound leave, Shuji-kun?"
Shuji considered carefully: "Tranquil environment, peaceful residents, complete facilities. Clearly… the clan maintains admirable dignity."
"Dignity…" Fugaku repeated, lips seeming to curve in an enigmatic, faint smile. His gaze remained on the garden, voice slightly lowered: "Yes, self-contained and peaceful. Yet… distant from the village center, we miss the bustle and perhaps… some connections."
He paused as if mentioning casually, then naturally returned his attention to Shuji, tone resuming clan-leader stability: "Itachi's future missions will trouble Shuji-jōnin considerably. His talent shows promise, but experience remains shallow—please guide him well."
"My duty—Fugaku-sama may be assured."
Fugaku studied Shuji intently, his gaze carrying deeper considerations that flashed too quickly to grasp.
He said no more, rising: "Itachi, escort Shuji-kun out."
Shuji stood and took his leave. Fugaku accompanied him only to the entrance.
Exiting the Uchiha mansion, afternoon sunlight proved somewhat glaring. Itachi waited quietly in the corridor, silently leading once Shuji emerged. They walked the same street outward. Shuji clearly felt Fugaku's substantial gaze like weight on his back until he turned the corner.
The compound air retained its self-sufficient tranquility and isolation—the confectionery's dango fragrance drifting faintly past.
Itachi's steps remained steady, yet Shuji detected subtle confusion emanating from the youth.
Senpai possessed other identities that particularly concerned Father, Itachi mused, though he voiced no questions.
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