Chapter 284 – Kenji and the Black Heart
Leaving Ayaka Hyūga with those firm words, Kei said nothing more.
A woman like her didn't need him to spell things out.
She was too smart not to understand his meaning —
he had no patience for so-called "talented" men who'd never actually proved themselves.
And he had even less tolerance for arrogant fools like Hyūga Sora —
a man with his nose forever in the clouds.
Especially since that idiot had once picked a fight with Ayaka,
only to be soundly humiliated by her in return.
No matter the political reasoning,
Kei would never allow someone like that to step foot in the Police Force —
let alone drop in as a division captain.
---
Their training had wrapped up for the day.
Everyone had their own duties to return to.
Still, Kei had gleaned enough from the session to gauge Kenta Imai's current power.
It was a little disappointing, though — the kid hadn't yet awakened Wood Release.
But in truth, that wasn't a real problem.
At his current level, even if he had awakened Mokuton,
he wouldn't be much stronger than Yamato would one day become.
That said… Kei couldn't deny it —
Kenta's potential far outstripped that of any Yamato.
If, someday, he truly managed to master Mokuton,
then combined with his current combat style…
Wouldn't that make him something like a fusion of the First and Second Hokage?
Kei chuckled to himself. No — that was wishful thinking.
The First Hokage's physical prowess had been terrifying.
His speed, his reflexes — none of it inferior to Tobirama's.
A fighter who could stand toe-to-toe with Madara Uchiha himself.
It wasn't that Hashirama couldn't use Flying Thunder God.
He just didn't need to.
When trouble appeared, he'd simply unleash Mokuton —
and the battlefield would vanish beneath forests.
And if that wasn't enough, Sage Mode would handle the rest.
A man like that had no equal.
Madara's loss to him was no disgrace.
I wonder if Kenta could handle Sage Mode, Kei thought idly.
If he can, then his potential might truly be terrifying.
He leaned back in his chair, staring out at the stacks of reports on his desk.
"But you're still only strengthening in one direction," he murmured to himself.
"While I'm evolving in all of them."
---
Kenta Imai's rise was impressive —
he'd practically taken over the remnants of the Senju clan,
outshining his useless elders with ease.
True, the Senju bloodline had thinned and weakened,
but earning the respect of an entire generation of young ninja was no small feat.
Kenta had done it — and done it well.
Kei could see the leadership instinct in him.
Maybe not polished yet, but unmistakable.
Ayaka, though… she lagged behind.
Her branch-family status shackled her in ways she couldn't yet break.
Still, Kei saw promise there too.
If she could unite the branch Hyūga under her and truly discover a way
to remove the Caged Bird Seal,
then her worth might one day surpass even Kenta's.
"For now, though," Kei muttered, tossing a report aside,
"she should just focus on medical ninjutsu."
He sighed.
"Strange… ever since the Police Department moved into this new building,
I feel like I've only gotten busier."
---
And it was true — Kei had never been busier.
Maybe Minato had anticipated his ambitions,
or maybe he just found Kei's methods efficient.
Either way, the Police Department's scope was quietly expanding.
Before deploying his three division captains to their new sectors,
Kei had given them one extra order:
"From now on, no matter how small the issue — even neighborly quarrels —
you intervene. Learn to mediate."
Uchiha Kawa and Uchiha Ryūei had seemed puzzled,
but they agreed without protest.
Only Uchiha Jun, ever the sharp one,
had cautiously asked about "the limits" of such interventions.
Kei had smiled and explained:
"As long as the problem isn't serious, you focus on reconciliation.
Treat each case individually.
Be fair, be patient — even if it's tedious."
It was tedious work.
But it was the perfect way to build trust and influence —
brick by brick, reputation by reputation.
He'd based the model on what he remembered from his previous life —
and the results spoke for themselves.
Within a few months, even the reluctant captains had adapted.
Jun, ever resourceful, had been the first to form a Mediation Unit,
a small team dedicated solely to handling civilian disputes.
Public praise for her division soared.
Before long, Kawa and Ryūei had followed her lead,
forming their own auxiliary teams.
It worked.
The rotten image the old Police Force had left behind was finally fading.
Some villagers still doubted them,
and many obeyed only out of lingering fear —
but those who dealt with the new Police Department firsthand
were stunned by how fair, how reasonable, it had become.
Whispers of change spread quietly through the village streets.
Even Minato had heard them.
He'd looked into it himself — and afterward,
he'd chosen to let the Police Force's new autonomy grow unchecked.
For now.
---
Kei's power — and responsibility — grew daily.
But so did the weight on his shoulders.
He was just starting to feel the exhaustion
when a voice slipped through the silence of his office.
"Seems I picked a bad time to drop in."
The voice was quiet, familiar — like a half-forgotten echo.
Kei froze for a heartbeat, then let out a small, knowing sigh.
His expression didn't change.
Still leaning against his desk, he spoke casually:
"Not really.
Just feels like a fighter like me shouldn't be buried under this much paperwork."
Only then did he glance up —
and his Sharingan met the swirling mask of a man in a black cloak.
Uchiha Obito.
---
He'd been expecting this.
If Obito hadn't shown up soon,
Kei would've had to reconsider several long-term plans.
But two months late was better than never.
At least the man had come.
"Maybe," Obito replied, his voice surprisingly even —
less hoarse, less distorted than before.
"But you don't seem as calm as you pretend to be."
"What do you think?" Kei asked mildly.
He walked to the window, looking out over the crowded streets below —
the Hokage Tower rising just beyond.
"Peaceful enough for me," he said quietly.
"By the way, I've always wondered —
when your mission's over, how exactly do you plan to return to Konoha?"
Obito's shoulders tensed.
"I don't plan to," he said flatly. "And I can't.
Someone like me… doesn't belong here anymore."
Kei chuckled softly.
"You sound just like Kakashi.
Brooding, dramatic, and endlessly conflicted."
He turned back toward his desk, opened the bottom drawer,
and drew out a sealed scroll.
Breaking the seal, he unrolled a pair of documents,
then handed them across the table.
"Here. I assume this is why you came."
"And take off the mask," Kei added.
"I don't like talking to walls."
Obito hesitated — then, without a word, removed it.
That small gesture of trust didn't escape Kei's notice.
A good sign.
He poured two cups of tea,
then watched quietly as Obito read through the papers.
"Two copies?" Obito finally asked, frowning.
"And the signatures don't match."
"Of course," Kei said, sliding one cup toward him.
"You keep one, I keep one. Perfectly normal."
"Normal?" Obito arched an eyebrow. "Wouldn't it make more sense
for me to hold the only copy?
As long as you're alive, that's proof enough of the deal."
Kei gave him a look like he'd just said something stupid.
"Please. You think I'd trust you that much?
If you suddenly lose your mind again, I'd be the one paying for it.
Mutual insurance — nothing personal."
Obito blinked, then snorted.
"You really do have a black heart."
"A black heart?" Kei smirked. "Better that than a fool like Kenji."
The name hit him like a jab.
"Kenji—?!" Obito's jaw tightened, irritation flickering in his eyes.
But he said nothing.
Because beneath the mockery, Kei was right.
They might be cooperating,
but their positions — their histories — made them enemies by nature.
Obito was the man who had dragged war into Konoha itself.
And yet… that tragedy had forced the village to grow.
To rebuild its defenses, to prepare for the future.
Even when Pain leveled Konoha years later,
the swift response that saved thousands had been born
from lessons learned in Obito's chaos.
A bitter irony.
---
Eventually, Obito signed the documents, pressing his thumbprint to the paper.
Annoyed as he was, he felt something stir within him —
something he hadn't felt in years.
A faint echo of belief.
For the first time since Rin's death,
he felt a shadow of what it meant to be a Konoha shinobi.
As Kei sealed away his own copy,
Obito stored his in the void of Kamui.
For a moment, both men sat in silence —
warriors from different paths,
bound by a fragile, uneasy truce.
---
"Here," Kei said suddenly.
He reached into a drawer and pulled out a forehead protector —
its metal gleaming faintly.
"Not your old one," he said. "This belonged to Rin.
It's yours now.
Welcome back, Uchiha Obito."
Obito froze.
Then, slowly, he took it.
"Thank you… What about her—Rin's body?"
"Not buried," Kei said quietly.
"Ayaka restored it completely — kept it stable in a preservation pod.
She's still as she was… a hero of Konoha."
He stepped closer, placing a hand gently on Obito's shoulder.
"But her funeral — that's yours to decide.
You deserve to be the one to see her off.
Don't you agree?"
Obito swallowed hard. His voice wavered.
"I… just want her to rest in peace."
He hesitated, then nodded.
"Though… maybe I want to say goodbye properly first."
The conflict in his eyes was raw —
torn between guilt and longing, between sinner and shinobi.
For all his darkness,
he wasn't nearly as cold as he'd once believed.
Maybe Kei really did have the blacker heart.
---
"Enough sentiment," Kei said, breaking the silence.
"You didn't come here just to reminisce.
I assume you've been investigating something."
"I have," Obito said, anger flashing across his face.
"In the Mizukage's archives, I found records — fragments, really —
hinting that the Third Mizukage extracted the Three-Tails
from its jinchūriki and used it for experiments."
His voice trembled with fury.
"Once, I wouldn't have questioned it.
I would've just killed for revenge.
But after your warning… I started digging deeper."
He clenched his fists.
"They covered it up perfectly. Every trace destroyed.
But I found someone who knew the truth —
and he told me everything."
"Yuan-shi," Kei said smoothly.
"Leader of the Mist's covert ops —
the one who led the team that attacked us that day."
Obito nodded grimly.
"Exactly. He suspected the Third Mizukage was being controlled.
His men's reports confirm it —
they were searching for a Konoha ninja that day."
"Rin," Kei murmured, sighing. "We were misled. We targeted the wrong one."
"Don't," Obito cut him off. "You did your duty.
You couldn't have known.
No one could've."
His hands trembled slightly, but there was no hatred left for Kei —
only grief.
After all, it was Kei who had found Rin's body,
and Kei who had pulled Obito back from the edge of damnation.
Still… a part of Obito couldn't help but wonder.
Did Kei really save her only out of respect?
Or was it for the Three-Tails' chakra still within her?
He pushed the thought away.
Whatever Kei's motives, Rin had been saved —
her body whole, her memory preserved.
That alone was more mercy than Kei usually offered his enemies.
Because Kei never brought corpses home.
He burned them.
All of them.
---
"Enough about that," Kei said suddenly,
cutting off Obito's drifting thoughts.
"Tell me about Kirigakure.
I assume you haven't exactly forgiven them."
Obito's eyes hardened.
"Of course not.
They killed Rin.
Even knowing the truth doesn't change that.
They'll pay for it."
"No," Kei interrupted sharply.
"Don't force it.
You'll only draw attention.
Act as you originally planned. Nothing more."
Obito hesitated, then nodded slowly.
"Understood.
I won't expose myself."
Kei exhaled, relieved.
For now, the pieces were still in place.
Although Obito Uchiha had calmed down considerably,
the moment his mind began to clear, something within him began to resurface—
that old, buried kindness he thought had died with Rin.
But Obito was still a man who had seen war.
A man who had killed countless enemies with his own hands.
In that sense, he was a lot like Naruto.
Maybe even identical.
Except for one crucial difference.
Naruto had grown up in a peaceful age.
Obito had been forged in the chaos of battle.
So while that ember of compassion still burned inside him,
he could control it.
He could keep it from clouding his judgment.
He could be ruthless when he needed to be.
Cold, calculating—
decisive when mercy would only bring death.
And now, as he quietly resolved to destroy Uchiha Madara's plans
and avenge every manipulation that had ruined his life,
he knew he couldn't afford to expose himself.
Not yet. Not ever—not until it was done.
Still, a suspicion flickered across his mind.
Something about Kei's tone, his calm, careful words.
"You're planning something with Kirigakure, aren't you?" Obito asked suddenly.
Kei smiled faintly.
"You think too much."
Obito frowned.
"The war's over. If you move against them now, it could draw attention—"
"The war might be over," Kei interrupted lightly,
"but conflict never ends.
Don't be so naive."
He leaned back in his chair, smirking.
"Honestly, you should study more when you have time.
Your performance review's still sitting on my desk, you know.
Or do you plan on staying a genin forever, Kenji?"
"Shut up!" Obito snapped, glaring at him.
"You say that like you're some kind of saint!"
"Better a black-hearted saint than a failing idiot," Kei replied with a shrug.
"And for the record, I'm a department head now.
Technically, that makes you my subordinate, Chūnin Uchiha Obito.
Is this how you speak to your superior?"
Obito's eye twitched.
This man was infuriating—completely insufferable.
And yet…
For the first time in years, Obito felt something warm stirring inside him.
Something that almost hurt.
Because in this teasing, this mockery,
in the way Kei treated him like just another shinobi—
he could feel it again.
The ordinary life of Konoha.
The familiarity.
The home he'd lost.
He chuckled quietly, surprising even himself.
So this is what it feels like again, he thought.
To belong somewhere.
He sighed and looked up.
"Fine. What do you want me to do?"
"Or rather—how do you want me to cooperate?"
---
"Write down everything you know about Madara's plans," Kei said evenly.
"I'll compile it into a report for the Fourth Hokage."
Obito stiffened.
"I'll tell him that I used the Mangekyō to 'control' someone for information—
a convenient lie to cover your involvement.
With that document, your identity won't be questioned.
Your report and mine will go up together."
"And," Kei added, "I also want details on what you plan to do in Kirigakure."
Obito frowned.
"You mean… you'll let the Fourth know I'm alive?"
"Not directly," Kei replied with a lazy smile.
"Your name won't be in the report. Just your intel."
"Still, it's risky," Obito murmured.
"After the Nine-Tails incident, if Minato even suspects—"
Kei rolled his eyes.
"Unbelievable. Truly worthy of the name Kenji.
You're not the actor in the report, you idiot.
You're the source of the information.
Let Minato decide how to use it to benefit Konoha."
He leaned forward, grinning wickedly.
"That's still a contribution, isn't it?
Congratulations—you're finally doing something useful."
Obito slammed his hands on the table.
"You shut that black-hearted mouth of yours!"
Kei chuckled softly, raising his teacup in mock salute.
"A black heart still beats stronger than a foolish one, Kenji."
Obito glared at him, torn between fury and reluctant amusement.
In spite of himself, he laughed—a rough, bitter sound that turned warm at the edges.
For the first time in years,
he didn't feel like a ghost.
He felt like a shinobi again.
Like a man who still had a place in this imperfect, maddening village.
---