Homura walked through the Uchiha compound at an unhurried pace, wearing the standard clan attire like he'd been born to it. The puppet that had once been just another of Kenji's creations had lived under this identity for years now.
The streets of the compound were familiar territory. He knew every shop, shortcut, and face he passed. He'd settled into Hazuki's household, living as her supposedly-returned brother, and over time the charade had become routine.
The clan members had been suspicious at first, of course. A man appearing out of nowhere claiming to be Hazuki's long-lost brother? That raised obvious questions. But several factors had worked in his favor.
First, Fugaku's official endorsement. The clan head had verified his identity and approved his presence, which carried significant weight. Second, his appearance matched old photographs and descriptions of the original Enma closely enough to be convincing. And most importantly, he had perfect Sharingan eyes that responded exactly as they should.
Thanks to Kenji's increasingly sophisticated puppet craftsmanship, no one except Hazuki and Fugaku knew the truth. The puppet body was flawless, indistinguishable from human on any casual examination. Even prolonged contact hadn't raised suspicions.
"Homura! Out shopping again?"
The elderly woman who ran the corner grocery smiled warmly as he passed.
"Good morning," Homura replied, stopping to chat. "We were running low on vegetables, so I picked up extra when I saw how fresh everything looked today."
"You're such a good boy, always taking care of your sister," the old woman said approvingly. "Not like some of the young people these days who can't even boil water."
Homura smiled and accepted the compliment before continuing on his way.
Living in the compound for so long had taught him things about the Uchiha that outsiders never saw. Yes, they were aloof and proud when dealing with other clans. Their reputation for arrogance wasn't entirely undeserved. But among themselves, with their own family members, they were surprisingly warm.
These ordinary Uchiha civilians worried about the same mundane things as anyone else in Konoha. Grocery prices, weather affecting crops, neighborhood gossip, their children's progress in training. They greeted neighbors and looked out for each other.
The surveillance and cold stares that outsiders received when entering the compound? That wasn't malice, as Hazuki had explained early on. It was just curiosity. Visitors were rare, and people naturally paid attention to unfamiliar faces. Nothing sinister about it.
He reached Hazuki's house and opened the door.
"I'm back," he called out.
Hazuki sat at the low table in the living room, needle and thread in hand, mending a jacket. Homura recognized it as one of Izumi's, torn during a recent mission. The girl was hard on her equipment.
"Welcome home." Hazuki set down her sewing immediately and stood to take the grocery bags from his hands. Her expression shifted to concern as she lowered her voice. "Did you find anything?"
She knew he'd been out investigating the unusual chakra signatures that had been appearing around the compound perimeter.
"No concrete traces," Homura said honestly. "But someone dangerous has definitely been skulking around recently. You should be extra careful when you go out. Don't walk alone at night."
The chakra he'd been tracking was Obito's. The appearances followed no discernible pattern, showing up at random intervals, lingering for a few minutes, then vanishing without entering the compound proper.
Hazuki's hands tightened on the grocery bags. "What about Izumi? Is she in danger?"
"She should be fine," Homura said. "Whoever it is only moves around the outer perimeter. And Izumi's still a genin doing low-risk missions within the village. In peacetime, her work rarely takes her anywhere dangerous."
He could see Hazuki wasn't entirely reassured, so he continued, "The pattern suggests they're planning something involving the clan as a whole, not targeting individuals. And I've already deployed other puppets to shadow her discretely. If anything threatens her, they'll intervene. She won't come to harm."
"Thank you." Hazuki's shoulders relaxed slightly. She carried the groceries toward the kitchen. "Rest for a bit. I'll start cooking. Izumi should be home soon."
Homura settled onto the sofa but his mind was elsewhere, running through timelines and probabilities.
According to the original story, the Uchiha massacre should be approaching. In the canon timeline, it had happened around this point. But nothing in this world followed that script anymore. His interventions over the years had created changes. Minato was still Hokage instead of being dead. The Nine-Tails attack had never happened, or at least not the way it was supposed to. Naruto grew up with both parents alive and well. The political situation of the village had evolved along completely different lines.
Minato hadn't granted the Uchiha real political power, true. But he also hadn't subjected them to the oppression they'd faced in the original timeline. When Danzō had proposed relocating the Uchiha compound to the village outskirts as a security measure, Minato had refused. His official reasoning had been budgetary concerns and the necessity of keeping the police force centrally located, but the effect was the same. The Uchiha remained integrated into the village proper.
That should have prevented the massacre entirely. Remove the persecution and isolation that had driven the Uchiha to desperation, and the whole tragedy becomes avoidable.
Yet he couldn't shake the feeling that danger still lurked. The shadow of that future hadn't faded as much as he'd hoped.
And then there was Obito.
The timeline divergence should have affected him too. When Naruto was born and Kushina was giving birth, he must have been watching like he did in the original story. But Rin was alive in this world. Her grave in the cemetery was empty, a false marker erected to cover up the fact that she'd never died. Obito had to know by now. He was too careful an operative not to have verified. So why was he still pursuing the Eye of the Moon Plan? What was driving him if not grief over Rin's death?
He had no good answers to those questions. Obito's psychology was complicated even when he did have clear motivations. But if Obito wasn't already insane before, recent events might push him over the edge.
Kenji had recently learned something from Minato that changed the equation significantly: Kakashi was getting married next year. And his bride was Rin.
When Minato had happily shared the news, Homura's first thought had been concern. If Obito learned about this, all bets were off. The man who'd caused the Nine-Tails attack in the original timeline out of grief and rage might do something even worse out of jealousy and betrayal. And according to Minato, the marriage had been arranged by him and Kushina working together as matchmakers. They were proud of successfully setting up their two former students. Completely oblivious to the potential consequences.
If Obito found out that the woman he loved was marrying his former best friend, and that Minato himself had facilitated it? The psychological damage would be catastrophic. Homura could easily imagine Obito attempting another Nine-Tails incident just to make Minato and Kushina pay for their interference.
Given Kakashi's personality, he'd definitely mention the upcoming marriage when visiting Obito's memorial stone. He probably already had. Was that why Obito had been hanging around the Uchiha compound lately? Plotting something in response to the news?
But even setting aside Obito's personal drama, the fundamental threat remained.
The Uchiha massacre in the original timeline hadn't been random. It had been orchestrated by Madara and Black Zetsu as part of the Eye of the Moon Plan. The Uchiha were descendants of the Sage of Six Paths with access to Mangekyō Sharingan powers that could potentially interfere with the plan. The massacre had been about eliminating obstacles.
Those motivations still existed regardless of how the timeline had changed. Madara's agenda hadn't disappeared just because Minato survived or because the situation in Konoha was different.
"I'm home!"
A cheerful voice interrupted Homura's dark thoughts. The front door burst open and Izumi came rushing in. She dropped her mission bag by the door and flopped down on the sofa next to Homura.
"I'm dead," she announced dramatically. "Completely dead. When do these ridiculous missions end?"
"Rough day?" Homura asked mildly.
"Rough day, rough week, rough month," Izumi complained. "Homura, do you know what I did today? I helped an old man fix his fence. Yesterday I caught a cat. The day before that I weeded a garden. Last week's exciting mission was escorting a merchant to the next town over. That's it. That's my entire kunoichi career so far."
She threw one arm over her eyes like she was dying.
"The most action I've seen was when the cat scratched me. I'm a kunoichi!"
Homura noticed she'd stopped calling him "Homura-ojisan" at some point, switching to just using his name directly. He didn't particularly care either way. The puppet body didn't have ego about forms of address.
"If you don't want to do odd jobs," he suggested, "you could always join the Police Force. It's all Uchiha there, and the missions are more official."
"No!" Izumi sat up immediately, wrinkling her nose in disgust. "The Police Force is even worse! All they do is patrol the streets and arrest drunk people. At least cat-catching sometimes involves chasing things. Police work is just standing around looking intimidating."
"Then your only option is to make chunin," Homura said reasonably. "Once you're promoted, you can lead teams and take higher-ranked missions. B-rank assignments, combat scenarios. Much more interesting than genin work."
"Chunin..." Izumi's expression shifted. Her eyes flickered red as her Sharingan activated automatically in response to her emotional state. Two tomoe spun in each eye.
"That's it! I need special training. Intensive training. I have to make chunin as fast as possible. I didn't become a kunoichi to spend my life helping civilians with farm work. I have the Sharingan, and the most impressive thing I've done with it is track down a cat named Tora!"
"Alright, alright, I get it. You have the Sharingan," Homura said, reaching over to pat her head. "You can stop showing off now."
The reason Izumi had developed a two-tomoe Sharingan while still a genin wasn't because of tragedy or sacrifice. Homura had used his years of research into the Sharingan's activation mechanisms, combined with Yamanaka mind techniques, to create a controlled method.
He'd constructed what he called a "genjutsu dreamscape" within her mind. By carefully simulating intense emotional experiences while she slept, he could trigger the neurological and chakra responses that activated the Sharingan. The simulated trauma felt real enough to stimulate awakening, but faded quickly upon waking, leaving no lasting psychological damage.
It was like experiencing a nightmare. Frightening in the moment, but ultimately harmless.
He had no intention of letting a lively, cheerful girl like Izumi undergo trauma just to unlock her clan abilities. The Uchiha path to power was dark enough without forcing children down it unnecessarily.