Night fell like ink over the shinobi world.
In Hokage Building, the tension was suffocating.
Two urgent reports arrived in succession—
From the northwest: Iwagakure pressing forward relentlessly.
From the northeast: Kumogakure attacking like a raging tide.
Then—
A third report.
From the eastern coast.
Hiruzen Sarutobi shot to his feet.
The fleet of Kirigakure had set sail.
Cutting through the mist.
Heading west.
Three fronts.
Encirclement.
Even the "Professor" felt the chair beneath him grow unbearable.
He drew deeply on his pipe.
Smoke curled upward, shadowing the deep lines on his face.
No more waiting.
"Orders!"
"Urge the Uchiha again—immediately assemble and deploy to the eastern front!"
The third order of the night.
...
Deep within the Hyūga compound—
The clan head sat alone in the brightly lit main hall.
Exhaustion weighed heavily on him.
Most branch family shinobi had already been sent to war.
Those remaining—
Children.
Genin.
If things worsened—
Even the main family would be forced onto the battlefield.
A thought pressed against his chest.
Where was the Hyūga headed?
His gaze fell upon the official notice.
Permission granted.
The Uchiha would form an independent army.
"Uchiha…"
His pale eyes revealed nothing.
Only unease.
And something deeper—
Envy.
No matter the era—
They always produced brilliance.
While the Hyūga…
His sons were capable.
But in times like these—
Was that enough?
He exhaled.
Then made his decision.
Moments later—
The door slid open.
Neji Hyuga's father, Hizashi Hyuga, entered and knelt.
"You called, father."
The clan head pushed the document forward.
"The Uchiha will depart soon."
"You will lead a branch family unit… and join them."
Hizashi froze.
Join the Uchiha?
Not Konoha's eastern army?
He looked up.
Confused.
"This is not a request," the clan head said calmly.
"They have something."
"We need to understand what."
Hizashi lowered his head.
"And if they refuse?"
The answer came without hesitation.
"No one refuses the Byakugan on the battlefield."
Silence.
Then—
"I understand."
...
Within the Uchiha district—
Ren's residence was ablaze with light.
Inside the spacious hall—
The young elite of the clan had gathered.
At the center sat Ren.
Beside him—
Fugaku Uchiha, steady and composed.
Mikoto Uchiha, gentle yet resolute.
Yashiro, Tekka, Inabi—
And the youngest—
Shisui Uchiha, eyes clear and sharp.
The atmosphere—
Quiet.
Tense.
Like a blade waiting to be drawn.
From the kitchen came the sound of sizzling oil.
A small, grounding warmth amid the storm.
Uchiha Hazuki entered, scroll in hand.
"Third order from the Hokage."
"We depart tomorrow."
A scoff came immediately.
"That old man—does he think we're ready overnight?"
Inabi's irritation was clear.
Shisui hesitated.
Something felt off.
Respect for the Hokage—
Wasn't that natural?
Yet no one else seemed bothered.
Even Fugaku remained silent.
Shisui chose to watch.
To learn.
Ren spoke.
"Yashiro. Status."
"Two hundred Red Guard assembled."
"Thirty three-tomoe Sharingan users."
"Twenty elite jōnin."
"Remaining—chūnin, many with awakened eyes."
"Supplies fully prepared."
His voice carried pride.
Explosive tags.
Weapons.
Rations.
All abundant.
Each soldier—
A walking arsenal.
Ren nodded.
"And the others?"
"Many want to join. A third unit."
Ren shook his head.
"War is not a game."
"The clan must be protected."
"Our roots are here."
Yashiro bowed.
"Understood."
Mikoto spoke softly.
"We'll handle morale."
Hazuki nodded.
"Propaganda drafts will be ready tonight."
"By tomorrow—every household will understand."
Ren turned.
"Report on Kirigakure."
Mikoto unrolled a scroll.
"Fleet near the Land of Waves."
"Three hundred vanguard."
"Testing landings today."
Ren smiled faintly.
"So that's why the Hokage is panicking."
He stood.
Then—
Gave the order.
"Dawn tomorrow."
"All Red Guard assemble."
"We march at full hour."
"Let the world see—Konoha's fire… is Uchiha's flame."
"YES, COMMANDER!"
Voices rose as one.
Then—
The mood shifted.
The kitchen curtain lifted.
A wave of aroma filled the room.
Golden tempura.
Grilled fish.
Miso soup.
At the center—
A certain orange cat.
"Dinner's ready!"
"Special send-off feast!"
Laughter broke the tension.
Ren sat first.
Raised his drink.
"To the clan."
"To the future."
Cups clinked.
Voices softened.
For a moment—
They were not warriors.
Just family.
Outside—
The moon hung high.
On a distant balcony—
Three elders stood together.
Watching.
One grumbled.
"We're left behind to guard the house?"
Another snorted.
"Be grateful they still care about us."
The third sighed.
Then drank.
Arguments flared.
Then faded.
Glasses clinked again.
In the distance—
Laughter carried through the night.
Blending with the quiet sound of cups meeting under the moon.
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