Chapter 87: The Board Is Set
"This matter should indeed be moved to the forefront of our plans," Uchiha Akira agreed, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "But we still require the right opportunity. There is no need to force it prematurely."
His perspective had shifted. He no longer viewed Danzo or Sarutobi Hiruzen as direct, insurmountable threats. The old adage was true: possession of overwhelming force changed one's outlook. Ultimate power stemmed from the capacity for violence, and in certain extreme scenarios, violence could be directly converted into political control.
In the worst case, he could simply eliminate them. Framing the act on the mysterious "Uchiha Madara" was not beyond consideration.
But he dismissed the idea almost as soon as it formed. It was a terrible plan. Seizing the Hokage's seat through sheer, blatant violence would create a foundation of sand. The village's trust would evaporate. Without the willing support of its people and shinobi, Konoha itself might fracture and collapse from within. And he couldn't very well kill everyone who disagreed.
To secure the title legitimately, to rule effectively, he needed popular support and the loyalty of Konoha's majority. He needed to win the position, not simply take it.
Uchiha Fugaku nodded, his restored eyes sharp. "Correct. The clan needs a platform for you. An opportunity to accumulate significant merit and build your reputation among the people and the ranks. That is the path to a smooth succession."
"Now, we wait," Akira analyzed, looking toward the window as if he could see the tense borders beyond. "Every major village in the shinobi world is poised, watching for weakness. The slightest misstep could ignite another war. Konoha, fighting Kumo on one front, does not have the strength to open a second. Hiruzen knows this. His keeping us here, away from the Kumo front, is a transparent political move. He aims to prevent the Uchiha, and you and I specifically, from gaining the battlefield glory that builds a Hokage's legend."
Fugaku's expression darkened in agreement. Personal prestige was a decisive currency in Hokage elections. Orochimaru's loss to Namikaze Minato had proven that technical prowess alone couldn't compete with the widespread adoration and trust Minato had earned through visible, heroic action.
"Precisely," Fugaku said. "And Iwagakure watches from the rocks, biding its time. I believe it won't be long before they see an opening and join the fray, hoping to carve off a piece of Konoha while we're distracted."
As for their specific strategy against Danzo, Orochimaru, and the Third Hokage himself, Fugaku already had a framework in mind. They held a devastating card, one they had kept close for just the right moment.
They knew of Danzo and Orochimaru's forbidden experiments. With the penetrating sight of Akira's Byakugan, they had long ago pinpointed the hidden laboratories operating in Konoha's underbelly. Danzo, emboldened after Minato's death, had resumed his work with a vengeance. The labs still functioned, conducting grotesque human experiments and continuing their own research into Hashirama cell transplantation.
That evidence was a dagger pointed at the heart of the old guard. Exposing it at the critical juncture could destroy Danzo and Orochimaru, and severely cripple Hiruzen, who had either turned a blind eye or failed to uncover the rot in his own administration.
Their business concluded, Fugaku seemed to relax slightly, a different kind of concern entering his eyes. "Akira, what is your assessment of Itachi? I am considering having him graduate from the Academy early, to begin his shinobi path as soon as possible."
"Itachi is a remarkable child," Akira offered, giving the honest praise due. "His natural talent for the shinobi arts is among the finest I have ever seen. I've encountered no one his age who can compare." It was true. Uchiha Itachi possessed that rare quality of a genius who could sprint to the peak of their potential with terrifying speed.
'A pity,' Akira thought privately, 'that Fugaku's "parenting" seems to consist mostly of stern looks and silent expectations. The pillar that should have been the Uchiha clan's greatest strength was warped into a weapon turned against them. A monumental failure.'
"However," Akira continued aloud, his tone shifting to one of caution, "Lord Fugaku, you must invest more in his education. Not just in jutsu, but in ideology. Spend time with him. Guide his developing worldview. We must prevent him from being… influenced by other parties. You are aware the Konoha leadership has always kept a particularly close watch on prodigies born to the Uchiha."
Fugaku had the grace to look slightly embarrassed. He was, by nature and habit, a distant father. At home, he wore the mask of the stern patriarch. It was little wonder Itachi had learned to mirror that impassive, serious demeanor, even the premature frown lines.
"I… admit this is not my strength," Fugaku said awkwardly. "His mother, Mikoto, speaks with him more."
"Regardless, you must make the effort," Akira pressed, his voice firm. "He is young now. His perspectives are still forming. They can be guided. In a few years, when his ideas solidify, it will be far more difficult." He leaned forward slightly. "Itachi's genius is a double-edged sword. If he is swayed by Hiruzen's paternal act, if he is tricked into seeing the clan as the problem and the Hokage's office as the solution… it would create a catastrophic division. A schism within our own walls."
The gravity of the scenario struck Fugaku fully. The potential for a devastating conflict, even one pitting father against son, became horrifyingly clear.
"This… must be addressed with utmost seriousness," Fugaku stated, his voice low and resolved.
"The goal is to ensure he does not develop an idealized, uncritical view of the village leadership," Akira summarized. "Their flaws, their compromises, their secret sins… he should understand them, as any future leader of the clan must."
Fugaku nodded, thinking it through. "Itachi is perceptive and thoughtful beyond his years. A blunt approach will not work. It must be subtle. He must… 'discover' for himself the contradictions and the darker deeds committed by those in power. He must learn to question their narrative."
"In short," Akira said, offering a final piece of advice, "pay attention to your son. Do not make the mistake of assuming a genius will automatically find the right path simply because he is clever. Neglect is the fertilizer for rebellion."
Fugaku nodded again, a father's stubborn pride surfacing. "Do not worry. This is the child upon whom I've placed the clan's highest hopes. He will not be led astray."
Akira merely smiled in response, offering no further argument. If Uchiha Fugaku's efforts failed and Itachi still grew into the misguided fanatic of the original timeline, then Akira would not hesitate to intervene. He would "educate" Itachi himself, by whatever means necessary, to ensure the boy's towering talent did not become a blade hovering over the Land of Fire.
Sarutobi Hiruzen was the first outside the clan to be officially notified of Uchiha Shisui's recovery.
In the Hokage's office, Shisui knelt respectfully on one knee before the large desk. Hiruzen looked down at him, his pipe held loosely, his expression a mask of grandfatherly warmth.
"Shisui, it gladdens my heart to see you restored," Hiruzen said, genuine relief in his tone.
"It was only possible due to the efforts of the clan's elders and their resources," Shisui replied formally, his head slightly bowed.
"Oh?" Hiruzen's eyes sharpened behind the kindly façade. "Your injuries were… profound. The medics spoke of a fundamental loss of vitality. I am curious. What method did Fugaku employ to replenish what was lost?"
The question was casual, but the weight behind it was not.
"I… do not know the specifics of the treatment, Lord Hokage," Shisui answered, allowing a hint of honest confusion to color his voice. "I was unconscious for much of it. The clan's healers handled the details."
Hiruzen studied him for a long moment, then slowly nodded, the smile returning. He was inclined to believe the young man. Shisui was powerful, but young. The deepest, most guarded secrets of a clan like the Uchiha would not be shared lightly, even with a prodigy.
"Of course, of course," Hiruzen said, waving a hand. "Well, go and rest. You have months of recovery to undo. Focus on rehabilitation. There will be plenty of time for missions later."
As Uchiha Shisui bowed and left the office, Hiruzen's smile vanished. He stared at the closing door, his mind racing. His thoughts drifted inexorably to the masked attacker on the night of the Nine-Tails, the one who claimed the name of a ghost.
'Means to restore vitality…' Hiruzen pondered, the smoke from his pipe curling into anxious shapes. 'Could it be… is it truly possible?'
The working theory had been that the masked man was an impostor, a schemer using Madara's name for terror and psychological effect. But if the Uchiha clan possessed ancient or rediscovered techniques to restore life force to a withered body… the possibility that the masked man really was Uchiha Madara, preserved by some forbidden art, suddenly seemed less far-fetched.
The thought sent a cold trickle down his spine. He tapped the ashes from his pipe, his expression settling into one of deep, troubled solemnity.
(End of Chapter)
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