"First thing's first, I need to become captain of the Guard Corps." Kazuto's mind ran like a sharpened blade.
"If someone like Uchiha Fugaku stays as head of the Guard and the patriarch, how will Konoha grow strong? How will the Uchiha rise? A man like him can't lead us."
He slid the Mangekyō Sharingan back into its hidden place and forced his face into a composed expression.
Having the Mangekyō changed the game, but outwardly he was still a Genin with only a handful of jutsu.
For now he had to keep a low profile, drill himself in shinobi arts, and slowly raise his combat value.
Only when the time was right would Fugaku be pushed aside. He clenched his teeth, why had fate handed him a pupil technique so meek and nonconfrontational?
One silver lining: awakening the Mangekyō let him draw more chakra than before. That, at least, was useful. Time, however, was not his ally.
It was the fifty-sixth year of Konoha, and the window to act was shrinking.
The next day he sought out Elder Setsuna.
"Elder Setsuna, I have something to discuss," Kazuto said, steady and deliberate as he faced the old man.
Setsuna studied him for a moment. "You are Uchiha Kazuto, yes? Speak."
Kazuto didn't hesitate. "It's time for Uchiha Fugaku to step down as clan head. He's not the man to lead our house to strength. A weak leader cannot make the clan powerful. I—" He paused, then fixed Setsuna with a direct look. "—am the one who should lead the Uchiha."
As he spoke the final words, a tomoe glowed in his eye, then another, then a third, until the three joined and blossomed into a pair of Mangekyō Sharingan. The old man's contempt vanished; replaced by a stern, stunned silence.
"You… you have the Mangekyō." Setsuna stepped closer, his voice small with reverence and incredulity.
The Mangekyō was the Uchiha's ultimate heirloom, the same power Madara had once wielded. Since Madara's time, no such eyes had surfaced in the clan.
"Yes." Kazuto let the confidence in his voice bloom. "This is the Mangekyō Sharingan. Madara-sama used its power to stand alongside the First Hokage and help establish Konoha. Elder Setsuna, am I not qualified to be the clan leader if I possess these eyes?"
Setsuna faltered.
Kazuto, with the Mangekyō, was no longer the invisible, ineffectual figure in the clan.
He was not Fugaku, the man who frustrated many with his indecisive, non-ambitious stewardship.
Setsuna had long harbored doubts about Fugaku's leadership; he saw in Kazuto the hunger the hawkish faction had always craved.
The appearance of the Mangekyō shifted something in him, dangerous possibility wrapped in hope.
"Kazuto…" Setsuna's voice trailed, but the look in his eyes had changed. The presence of those eyes mattered more than any speech. They were a sign of power and promise.
Kazuto pressed on without giving him room to waver. "What's the hesitation? Konoha stands at a critical juncture. The Uchiha founded this village, yet we've never had one of our own become Hokage. The villagers keep us at arm's length. That ends if we act. Only I can reshape the clan, only with strength like Madara's can we demand a place. Relying on Fugaku will only keep us weak."
The image of Fugaku's cautious, middling record and the fierce hunger in Kazuto's own words, backed by the Mangekyō, closed the case.
Setsuna's resistance eroded. The hawks needed a leader with teeth; Kazuto offered them both teeth and legend.
"All right," Setsuna finally said, voice steadier. "You have the power and the will. You are fit to become clan head. Fugaku should step down."
Setsuna moved quickly. He summoned the faction's trusted members under the pretense of an evening of drinking and reminiscing at his house.
In the warm, conspiratorial gloom, Kazuto revealed his eyes and laid out his ambitions, to be clan leader and, in time, Hokage, promising to restore the Uchiha to prominence. For men already inclined toward decisive action, his words landed like a match to kindling.
To the hawkish ninjas, the Mangekyō was not a mere tool; it was a symbol.
If Kazuto had only sported a three-magatama Sharingan, his promises would have sounded like the usual posturing of ambitious youths.
They might have smiled, nodded politely, and gone about their business. But the Mangekyō elevated him beyond rhetoric; it compelled obedience.
It made his claims credible because those claims were uttered by the owner of legendary eyes.
"Elder Setsuna, don't waver," Kazuto told him later, voice low as they leaned over a map. "We keep to the plan, discuss the coup in detail. Our target is Fugaku."
Setsuna nodded. Around them, the hawks listened. The plan would be deliberate, measured, and ruthless where it needed to be.
Kazuto felt the net of their attentions tighten, useful for now, necessary for the ascent he intended.
As he outlined steps and contingencies, Kazuto's mind went over the future he imagined: not only the Guard Corps' captaincy and the clan's patriarchate, but a restructuring of power that placed the Uchiha where they truly belonged.
The Mangekyō's presence made that possibility more than fantasy. It made it inevitable, if he played his hand right.
Moreover he had little time before fate played its hand.
….
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