In just three short days, Shisui felt that Ryoma had become someone he could no longer fully grasp.
At first, the young outsider had seemed harmless—curious, sharp, but respectful. Now, every word Ryoma spoke pried open doubts Shisui had long buried. His presence was like a stone dropped into still water, ripples spreading further each day.
For the first time in years, Shisui hesitated.
He had already decided to act before knocking on this door. Yet now, another choice lay before him—one far more dangerous than using Kotoamatsukami on his own clan.
A direct, covert confrontation with the Hokage's circle.
It felt like betrayal.
"No matter what I say, the final decision is yours," Ryoma said, noticing the tremor in Shisui's silence. "Outside help is only a catalyst. Only you can decide your own path."
Shisui's fists tightened.
Everything he had ever done was to prevent bloodshed between the Uchiha and Konoha. That was why he had trusted Hiruzen Sarutobi. Why he had even tolerated Danzo Shimura's shadowed involvement.
But Ryoma's investigation had peeled away their intentions. If Shisui continued blindly trusting them… would he not be leading his clan toward ruin with his own hands?
His resolve wavered—then steadied.
Ryoma's proposal was dangerous, but it was also an opportunity. A test. One that would reveal whether Konoha's leadership truly sought reconciliation—or merely control.
"I'll arrange it," Shisui said at last.
His voice was firm again.
He was not indecisive. In the original timeline, he had chosen to entrust Kotoamatsukami to the Hokage. That had been decisive—but naïve. This time, he would test the system before sacrificing himself for it.
"I'm free these next two days," Ryoma said. "I'll help."
Not out of kindness, but curiosity. He wanted to see what came next.
Shisui did not doubt his motives. Results mattered more than intentions.
After all, it was Ryoma who had proposed the plan.
Konoha had many institutions, but none carried heavier symbolism than the Konoha Military Police Force.
It was, in truth, the Uchiha clan's domain.
When the Second Hokage, Tobirama Senju, established the Police Force and entrusted it to the Uchiha, his motives were complex. He wished to grant them authority—and also bind them to the village's structure. A reward, and a leash.
In theory, it was a path to integration.
In practice, it became a wall.
The Police Force governed civilian disputes, security patrols, and internal law enforcement. Properly handled, it could have earned the people's trust. But the Uchiha's pride and severity bred fear instead of respect. Their justice was efficient, but cold. Rigid.
Meanwhile, Hiruzen and Danzo inherited Tobirama's caution—but not his balance. Over time, policies quietly pushed the Uchiha farther from the village center, physically and politically.
Had Tobirama not once fostered moderates like Kagami Uchiha—whose ideals later shaped Shisui and Itachi—the clan might have fractured long ago.
Ryoma's plan was simple in theory:
Restore the Police Force's public image.
Then observe the Hokage's reaction.
If Hiruzen welcomed the change, Shisui's faith would be justified.
If not… Shisui would finally accept that the Uchiha's marginalization was not merely their own fault.
"Shisui-nii!"
The greeting followed Shisui as he entered the Police headquarters.
The Uchiha respected strength above all else. That was why Hashirama and Madara had once been equals. And among the current generation, Shisui stood peerless—a prodigy of the Sharingan, a war hero of the Third Shinobi World War, and a quiet idol to younger clan members.
Inside an office, he reviewed patrol assignments.
Despite declining morale, the Police Force still operated daily rotations across the village.
"What wind brought you here today?"
A middle-aged man entered.
Uchiha Fugaku, the clan head, rarely appeared in the headquarters anymore. Day-to-day command belonged to Uchiha Yashiro—an old instructor, strict, respected, and firmly aligned with the clan's hardliners.
"Uncle Yashiro," Shisui greeted.
The older man glanced at the files. "Checking patrol rosters out of boredom?"
"No," Shisui said. "I'd like to take charge of patrol arrangements for the next two days."
Yashiro raised an eyebrow. He liked Shisui, but one truth remained: Shisui served in the ANBU and was close to the Hokage. That made him suspect.
"I'll allow it," Yashiro said slowly. "But give me a reason."
"You attended the last clan meeting," Shisui replied. "You know how tense things have become. I want to test whether the village can still be reached."
Yashiro's expression darkened. He understood immediately.
"You believe rearranging patrols will change the Police Force's reputation?" he asked. "That's naïve."
"I know," Shisui said. "But I want to try."
Yashiro sighed. It was harmless enough to indulge him.
"Very well."
The next day, Yashiro nearly choked on his tea.
"What did you just say?"
The young officer reporting to him wiped tea from his cheek. "…Shisui replaced all patrol units with female officers."
Silence.
"…Explain."
Yashiro marched to the scene himself.
From a rooftop, he observed an izakaya dispute—a drunken civilian shouting, tables overturned. Normally, patrol officers arriving would have ended the situation with intimidation or arrests.
This time was different.
A young woman in the Uchiha Police uniform approached calmly, speaking gently, defusing tension with a smile instead of force. The drunk man's anger dissolved under embarrassment.
Finally, she bowed politely. "Please be careful on your way home, sir."
The crowd dispersed. No fear. No resentment. Only laughter.
Yashiro froze.
He suddenly understood.
It was not about strength.
It was about approach.
What Yashiro did not know was that Ryoma had suggested selecting officers with approachable demeanors and public appeal—drawing on archetypes from entertainment in his previous world, concepts alien to the shinobi system but devastatingly effective on civilian psychology.
The Police Force's image was changing.
And soon, Konoha's leadership would have to react.