Chapter 6: Two Meetings
A sharp knock on my door broke the evening quiet. I wasn't expecting anyone. Ever.
When I opened it, two Uchiha in standard flak jackets stood there. The older one, maybe in his twenties, spoke without warmth. "Uchiha Tenchi. The Patriarch summons you. Come with us."
I just nodded and followed. I was curious what the clan head wanted with me now, after all these years of silence.
I was led not to the clan head's home, but to the Konoha Military Police Force headquarters. Of course. Uchiha Kiyotaka sat behind a large desk, the symbol of the Police Force prominent on the wall behind him. He looked me over like I was a strange insect.
"Tenchi. I hear the Nidaime has lifted your restrictions," he began, his tone carefully neutral. "I also hear you've awakened the Sharingan. Is this true?"
I didn't see the point in playing dumb. "Lord Patriarch, you didn't call me here so late just to ask me that, did you?" I kept my voice flat.
"Of course not," he said, offering a thin smile that didn't reach his eyes. "As a member of the Uchiha clan, and the former heir, it is my duty to care for my people."
I almost laughed in his face. Care for me? Where was this "care" when I was a hungry five-year-old scrounging for food? Where was it when the other kids threw rocks and the adults looked the other way? He was only here now because Tobirama had loosened the leash. He saw a tool that might be useful again.
I didn't say any of that. Instead, I just let the chakra flow to my eyes. The world sharpened into shades of red, my two tomoe spinning slowly.
"Two tomoe!" Kiyotaka leaned forward, his composure cracking for a second. He took a sharp breath. A ten-year-old with a two-tomoe Sharingan, self-taught... it was unheard of. I could see the gears turning in his head. Madara's son. Of course. The potential.
"Tenchi," he started again, his voice dripping with a false, fatherly concern I found sickening. "I know you hold a grudge against the clan. You have suffered. You lost your position, your life has been hard. But the Nidaime... what could we do? Since your father left, we have had no one who can stand against him. We had to compromise to survive."
He was trying to sound like we were on the same side. I decided to make him spell it out. "What is it you want to say, Patriarch?"
"Tenchi, I want you to come back to the clan. Fully. We are your blood. However we have failed you, we are still better than outsiders. If you need anything—ninjutsu, guidance—come to me. And who knows? If you grow strong enough, restoring your status as the heir is not impossible."
He was painting a picture of a bright future, dangling a carrot he had no intention of letting me eat. I just gave a slow, non-committal nod. "I understand."
I turned and walked out without another word. Restore my status? You think I'm a fool? You just want to use me to control my father's old supporters and get more power for yourself in the village. Go find another puppet.
The night air felt cool on my face. I'd only taken a few steps from the Police HQ when I felt it again—that old, familiar feeling of being watched. It was the same as when the Anbu used to trail me.
"You can come out," I said to the empty street. "Aren't you tired of following me?"
There was a soft shunshin sound, and a ninja in a plain mask, not an Anbu one, appeared in front of me.
"Uchiha Tenchi," the man said, his voice muffled. "The Great Elder wishes to see you. Come with me."
I almost smiled. This night was getting interesting. First the Nidaime sets me "free," then the clan head tries to recruit me, and now the leader of the militant faction sends a shadow to fetch me. The Uchiha drama was in full swing.
"Lead the way," I said, more curious than cautious.
The masked ninja seemed surprised by my quick agreement but said nothing, simply turning and moving with a quiet efficiency. I followed.
We didn't go deep into the clan district. Instead, we went to its very outer edge, not far from my own lonely house. We stopped at a simple, traditional-style courtyard. The masked ninja opened the door and gestured for me to enter.
Inside, an old man was sitting seiza-style on a tatami mat in the center of the garden, seemingly meditating under the moonlight. He had a stern face, etched with deep lines, and a presence that felt as solid as stone.
"Great Elder. I have brought him," the masked ninja said.
"Good. You are dismissed," the old man replied without opening his eyes.
Once we were alone, he finally looked at me. "So you are Madara's boy. Sit."
I did, sitting cross-legged on the mat opposite him. No bowing, no formalities.
He studied my face for a long moment. "You look like him. The same stubborn set to your jaw. The same unruly hair." He was right. I never bothered much with my hair, just let the black mess fall where it wanted. I guess I did look a bit like the statues and paintings I'd seen.
"Great Elder, it's late," I said, cutting to the chase. "If you have something to say, please say it." I had missions with Hiruzen tomorrow. I needed sleep. Besides, this was my father's biggest supporter. I could afford to be direct with him. With the clan head, I had to play a timid game, but here? I could be myself.
To my utter shock, the old man didn't get angry. Instead, he shifted from his seated position and knelt, pressing his forehead to the tatami mat in a deep, formal bow right in front of me.
"Young Master," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I have failed you. Because of my fear of the Second Hokage, I left you to suffer all these years. I am ashamed before you, and I have betrayed the trust Madara-sama placed in me."
My brain froze for a second. "Great Elder, please, get up!" I said, scrambling to my feet and trying to pull him up. This was... real. The clan head offered me empty words and false promises. This man offered me a genuine apology and a show of respect that meant more than any title.
Once he was standing, he looked me in the eye. "Come with me, Young Master."
He led me inside the house and down a hidden staircase into a basement. When he lit the lanterns, I stared, my mouth slightly agape.
The room was stacked, floor to ceiling, with scrolls. Piles of them. And in the corner were several large, heavy-looking chests. He opened one. It was full of ryo. A fortune.
"What... what is all this?" I stammered.
"Now that the Nidaime's restrictions are gone, the militant faction will support your training without reserve," the Great Elder said, his voice firm. "These are our collected techniques and resources. Use them. Learn from them. And when you are strong, every one of our hundred warriors will answer to your call." He paused, his gaze intense. "And if the day comes when you decide this village is no longer our home, if you give the order to leave... we will follow you without hesitation."
A cold sweat broke out on my back. This wasn't just support; this was sedition. This was the kind of talk that got people killed.
"Great Elder, you can't say things like that!" I said, my voice low and urgent. "As long as Konoha does not betray us first, we cannot entertain such thoughts. And it's far too early to speak of this anyway. Dreams without the strength to back them up are just fantasies." I took a breath. "And please, stop calling me 'Young Master.' That's in the past."
The Great Elder studied me, a new, appraising look in his eyes. I realized then that his extreme words had been a test. He was pushing me, seeing how a ten-year-old, suddenly offered power and loyalty, would react. Would I get drunk on the idea? Would I start planning revenge?
He saw that I didn't. He saw the caution, the understanding of the reality of our situation.
A slow, genuine smile, the first real one I'd seen all night, spread across his weathered face. "Very well, Tenchi. Not 'Young Master.' For now." He gestured to the treasure trove around us. "But these are yours to use. Grow strong. We will be watching."
I left his compound with my head spinning, the weight of two very different offers pressing down on me. One was a hollow title from a man who saw me as a pawn. The other was a dangerous, real commitment from men who saw me as a symbol of a past they refused to let die.
I knew which one felt more like truth. And I knew which one was far more dangerous.
Liking it so far? Rain Stones