Establishing the Konoha Military Police Force headquarters near the Hokage Residence might have seemed like a show of trust—but Uchiha Kai knew better.
No other department, aside from the Hokage's personal offices and ANBU Headquarters, had such proximity to the Hokage. On the surface, it was an honor. In truth, it was surveillance.
This location wasn't for the Uchiha's convenience—it was a leash.
It meant that every action taken by the Police Force could be scrutinized by the Hokage. It also made the Uchiha a convenient scapegoat if things went wrong.
Still, Uchiha Kai didn't object.
In politics and power, visibility was a double-edged sword. Sometimes, you had to be high-profile—not for attention, but to assert your presence.
Let the village know the Uchiha were indispensable.
But being prominent all the time risked antagonizing others, especially wary elders and ANBU loyalists. Kai understood timing: when to act, when to step back. His silence wasn't weakness—it was restraint.
At a strategy meeting in the Hokage's office, Kai's proposal to reassign sections of the village's reconstruction efforts to the Military Police had gained near-unanimous support. Some sought political favor, others genuinely believed in stabilizing Konoha through security.
Uchiha Fugaku, seated beside Kai, leaned over and muttered:
"It's a good proposal. But... are we pushing too far?"
Kai smirked lightly.
"That's for the Hokage to decide. He values balance. He'll make the call."
Fugaku sighed.
"Maybe I'm just too cautious. I don't want a repeat of the distrust from the previous administration."
"Then stay within bounds," Kai said calmly. "Don't give him reason to suspect us. But don't bend either."
Fugaku nodded, though concern still clouded his eyes.
Kai changed the topic.
"How's your eyesight holding up? And the Nine-Tails—did your Mangekyō manage to suppress it?"
Fugaku looked away briefly, then replied:
"My vision's stable, for now. I used my dōjutsu during the chaos… and yes, it responded. But I'd rather not go into details."
Kai understood. Fugaku wasn't being evasive—he was protecting information only a clan head should know.
Then, Kai lowered his voice.
"Originally, I was going to keep the Eternal Mangekyō eyes in reserve for a year. But with the current instability, that won't be necessary. They'll be ready in a few months. You can come retrieve them yourself."
Fugaku blinked, surprised.
"You don't intend to use them?"
"You trust me that much?" Kai chuckled. "Aren't you worried I'll change my mind—or give them to someone else more... loyal?"
"I am worried," Fugaku admitted. "But I'm also confident. Our partnership benefits us both. Replacing me would be a costly move—even for you."
He was right. Kai had the influence to challenge Fugaku—but not without political fallout. Their arrangement was stable. Replacing Fugaku would risk destabilizing clan unity, and Minato's trust.
Kai said,
"Relax. I'm not interested in foolish betrayal. If anything, I value continuity."
Fugaku nodded.
"Then... what will you do with your own eyes? Have you considered sharing the Eternal Mangekyō? One each?"
"A single Eternal Eye isn't optimal," Kai replied. "Besides, I've got other options."
Fugaku accepted the answer, albeit reluctantly. Kai's power remained veiled, and that made him uneasy—but also grateful.
If these Eternal Eyes worked as theorized, Fugaku could one day pass them to his sons—Itachi, or Shisui, if he awakened Mangekyō.
Still, he hoped it wouldn't come to that.
He had seen the toll Mangekyō took on the soul. Grief, loss—it twisted people. Fugaku didn't want that for his sons.
But as clan head, he couldn't ignore the strategic value of those eyes.
Thanks to Kai's scientific meddling, the Uchiha now had a path forward—without needless sacrifice.
The meeting lasted all morning.
By the end, the shinobi attendees began dispersing, possibly because they had noticed the Fourth Hokage's pale expression. It was no secret Minato had barely rested since the Nine-Tails attack.
Though Kushina had contained the beast, it had nearly broken free. Most suspected the attacker—masked, with a Sharingan—had used a powerful genjutsu to control the Nine-Tails.
After the meeting, Kai parted ways with Fugaku.
He needed to visit the Police Headquarters and assess the situation. The Nine-Tails' assault had left behind wreckage—not only of buildings, but of morale.
Many of the guards under his command had been deployed too late, some overwhelmed by the scale of the attack. Civilians had died. Yet the quick response by the Police Force, once organized, had prevented further disaster.
His early signal flares had rallied patrol teams to key locations, limiting the beast's movement. It was one of the few clear tactical successes that night.
When he arrived, the station was understaffed. Many Uchiha were still on mission, or aiding reconstruction.
Even the contracted civilians—the auxiliary guards who had once resented being kept in reserve—had stepped up.
They'd witnessed the chaos first-hand.
Some had even helped prevent a jailbreak in the holding cells when prisoners tried to escape during the attack.
Rumors had spread that it was Uchiha Fugaku and Uchiha Kai—alongside the Fourth Hokage—who had suppressed the Nine-Tails.
Others whispered that Kai had personally faced the masked intruder.
Whether true or not, the Security Force's reputation had grown. Morale was up.
Kai walked past the auxiliary units with a brief nod, entering his office.
Inside, he summoned Uchiha Kawa and the other squad leaders.
All of them looked tired. Two bore visible injuries—but they still reported for duty.
They knew they couldn't afford rest. Not now.
Kai, however, could afford to step away briefly.
That was the burden—and privilege—of command.