"Clan head, we've all turned into something else," Ryouma continued, his voice heavy with regret. "We lost our true selves the moment we cowered in Konoha and rejected Madara-sama. The moment we told ourselves we were stepping back to leap forward – we surrendered our right to lead. From this point on, I will retire as Second Elder of the Uchiha clan."
The room fell silent.
The current generation of elders had risen early – many in their twenties and thirties – after the war with the Senju decimated the clan's leadership. They were not the most gifted of their peers, but they were the strongest of the survivors. If not for the loss of elites and prodigies, they would never have held these seats.
Now, most were in their fifties or sixties – the age when elders were traditionally chosen. But the weight of their past lingered.
"There's no need for you to retire, Ryouma"
A voice, aged and gentle, echoed form the doorway.
And old woman with pure white hair entered, hunched but dignified, supporting herself with both hand on her cane.
"Himiko-sama!!"
"Baba?!"
Everyone stood in reverence.
"Himiko-sama, please – don't strain yourself."
"You Bakasuke and Bakashi! You're a hundred years too early to tell me what to do!"
She took a breath, then spoke slowly.
"It's good that you've recognized your limits. None of you were meant to hold these positions. Your talents weren't the brightest. some of you barely reached Jonin level at your peak."
The elders lowered their gaze.
"But you stood up when no one else would. You salvaged what was left of us. Madara-sama did most of the work, yes – but the clan remembers how you burned your youth to rebuild what we had lost."
A few eyes turned red with memory.
"When the rest of us gave up – when we surrendered to hopelessness – you carried the clan forward. We were proud of you."
Himiko had once been the 8th elder, overseeing the few medical-nin clans had during the war. She had watched the wounded pile up, the dead outnumber the living. After the war, she retired in silence. The surviving elders did the same and most passed away over the decades. From those who ran, only Himiko remained – now 89 years old.
"Why didn't you help us before?" one elder asked, as his voice cracked.
Himiko shook her head.
"We were sinners. We abandoned our duties. How could we show our faces? Sometimes it's better for old relics like us to step back and let the young lead. And look at what you've built. It's not perfect – but were you able to imagine that our clan would recover like this when Konoha just formed? Perhaps you all saw a path forward. But we couldn't. We saw no hope. No chance to rise again. We would've only been a burden."
The elders wiped their eyes.
Even with Madara, the Uchiha had been voiceless. After his defection, they were alone – helpless.
"You still have the spirit we lacked. If you fall short, don't despair. nurture the next generation. Let them finish what you couldn't."
Then, Himiko knelt and bowed before the elders and the rest in the room.
"I'm sorry. We failed you. We left you to carry a burden that should've been ours. And thank you – for letting us see the Uchiha clan thriving again. We wanted to say this for years – but we didn't have the courage. At least Ken remained strong…"
Uchiha Ken, the First Elder, a shinobi who had once reached a Kage-level strength, the last of Himiko's generation, opened his eyes and looked at her. Then he turned to the room.
"Don't worry about Tobirama or the old fools of other clans. When time passes, he and old grudges too will fade, like us. And the young will blend into the village. Just protect the clan and the children until the time is right. You've all done well."
The room was quiet. Only soft sniffling echoed in the hall.
After emotions settled, Sosuke raised his head.
"Elders, there's no need to retire early. Find the successors when the time is right. Please help me in supporting the clan. As for the Police Force Reform... – we'll implement it after the war. No need to provoke the Hokage or disrupt the village's stability. For now, we too will protect Konoha and our legacy."
"""Yes, Clan head."''
Sosuke turned to Kagami, and gave him a distinctive look.
"Kagami, I know you're close to Tobirama. But as your clan head and also your father, I insist. Don't inform him about this reform until the war ends. We must preserve our relationship."
Kagami hesitated, then nodded.
"…Yes, clan head."
Himiko watched with a soft smile.
Then she returned home.
A few days later, Uchiha Himiko passed away with a relieved smile on her face.
***
The skies over Konoha were overcast, the clouds hanging low like a curtain drawn over the village. No rain fell, but the air felt heavy in the Uchiha clan.
At the edge of the compound, beneath a grove of ancient trees, a small gathering stood in silence. No words were spoken. No eulogies were given. Only the rustle of leaves and the soft crunch of gravel under sandals marked the passage of time.
Uchiha Himiko's body lay in a simple casket, draped in the clans' crimson and black. Her cane rested beside her, polished and worn, a symbol of the quiet strength she carried until the end.
Sosuke stood at the front, head bowed, hands folded.
Ken, the last of her generation, remained seated with his eyes closed and unmoving.
Ryouma, Fukashi, and the other elders stood behind them, their expressions unreadable but their eyes rimmed with red.
Shinichi stood apart, just behind the line of elders, with Kaito, Minami, and Ran. He didn't cry. But his gaze lingered on the casket longer than anyone else's. He hadn't met her many times – but her words had etched themselves into him like fire on stone.
["Nurture the next generation. Let them finish what you couldn't."]
The younger clansmen – Eisuke, Kagami, and few others – stood in quiet formation. None of them had known Himiko well. But they understood what she represented.
A bell rang once.
Then again.
Three times.
It was tradition. One for the body. One for the soul, and one for the legacy.
The casket was lowered into the earth. No jutsu was used. No flames. No spectacle. Just hands, ropes, and silence.
A single white camellia was placed atop the grave.
Then, one by one, the mourners turned and walked away.
Until only Shinichi remained.
He knelt beside the grave, brushing his finger along the edge of the soil.
"You were there when I was born. I don't remember it, but I know. You held me before anyone else did. You held Kaito too. You were always there – quietly watching and waiting patiently."
He placed a folded cloth beside the grave – an old handkerchief Himiko had once used to wipe Kaito's tear when he scraped his knee as a toddler.
"You were more than just an elder. You were our beginning."
He bowed low, his forehead touching the earth.
"Thank you for everything. I'll carry the clan forward. So rest in peace... Grandma."
Then he rose, turned and walked back toward the compound.
Behind him, the camellia fluttered once in the wind.
And Uchiha Himiko rested – finally, quietly, among the roots of the clan she silently helped carry.