Chapter 296 – A Change in Perspective (Double Length Chapter)
Now Shikaku Nara finally understood why the Fourth Hokage, Minato Namikaze, had worn that strange expression earlier.
Because at this very moment, Shikaku wore the exact same look himself.
He had to admit—it was shocking.
He had always known Uchiha Kei, the head of the Police Force, was clever.
But this? This was something else entirely.
Kei had only been in the Land of Water for a short while, yet he had already uncovered secrets that no one else would've even dared to imagine.
Though his report seemed casual, Shikaku could tell it was designed to leave a lasting impression on the Kaguya clan's leader.
Still, the implications were enormous.
If Kei hadn't gone there himself, no one in Konoha might have ever discovered such things.
And yet… something about his decisions didn't sit right with Shikaku.
Why in the world had he chosen to strike a deal with the Kaguya clan?
A simple trade would've been fine—but this?
A deal that effectively encouraged rebellion against the Mizukage?
That wasn't just risky; it was borderline suicidal.
Worse, they had signed official documents—binding treaties, even.
Such evidence could become a political time bomb if ever discovered.
Shikaku frowned deeply. He couldn't quite figure out what Kei was planning.
But then, he remembered the faint smile on Minato's face before the Hokage left.
It wasn't amusement. It was recognition—approval.
Which meant only one thing:
Minato understood Kei's plan… and had agreed with it.
And when Shikaku reconsidered Kei's words in the letter—his clear prediction that the Kaguya would "inevitably fail"—everything began to make sense.
Kei hadn't just written a report.
He'd left behind a contingency.
Which meant he had already prepared a countermeasure before even setting things in motion.
---
As he burned the letter, watching the parchment curl and crumble into ash, Shikaku's mind raced.
If Minato approved, then Kei must have a backup plan in place.
And that backup likely involved a hidden operative—a deep-cover asset planted somewhere within the Land of Water.
Someone both Kei and Minato trusted completely.
Someone capable of quietly recovering any incriminating documents bearing Kei's signature once the Kaguya fell.
A perfect ghost.
A shadow to clean up the bloodstains after the chaos.
By the time the ash scattered through the window, Shikaku's thoughts had crystallized.
He didn't care who the operative was, or how they'd earned Kei and Minato's trust.
That wasn't his concern.
What mattered was the result.
What this operation could do for Konoha.
And once he stripped away every risk to the village—and every risk to Kei—the remaining benefits were staggering.
---
"So that's it," Shikaku murmured, a wry smile forming on his lips.
"That kid never intended to side with the Kaguya at all. He's just using them—to sow chaos in the Mist, to stir unrest among the Bloodline clans… and to make Konoha a very tidy profit in the process."
Everything clicked into place.
Uchiha Kei wasn't gambling. He was engineering an outcome.
No wonder the Fourth trusted him so deeply.
This man's intellect truly lived up to the reputation of the Uchiha clan—the most formidable minds in Konoha's history.
With nothing more than a single letter, a few coded words, and Minato's subtle expression, Shikaku could now reconstruct nearly the entire plan.
If his deductions were correct, then Konoha was about to become a silent player in the Land of Water's conflict.
An invisible hand shaping the battlefield, unseen and untraceable.
After all—if the only people who knew the truth were insiders… or corpses…
then as far as the world was concerned, Konoha had never been involved at all.
Still, Shikaku wasn't one to let optimism cloud his judgment.
If his assumptions were wrong, this could backfire catastrophically.
Konoha's political and economic interests in the minor nations around the Land of Water could suffer dearly.
That's why he needed a three-step plan.
First: alert the armory division. Quietly.
No records, no rumors—just prepare.
Second: meet privately with the Hokage to confirm his suspicions and understand Minato's true intentions.
And third—perhaps most importantly—
plan for failure.
If Kei's and Minato's "hidden piece" in the Land of Water failed, Shikaku would need a way to erase every trace of their involvement and minimize the fallout.
Only then could he sleep soundly.
He brushed the last ashes from the window sill, watching them scatter into the night breeze.
A small, knowing smile tugged at his lips.
"This is getting interesting," he murmured.
---
Meanwhile, deep within the Mist Village, Uchiha Kei, Hyūga Ayaka, and Imai Kenta sat huddled around a small campfire.
A snow hare sizzled slowly over the flames, filling the room with the scent of roasting meat.
"These people from the Yuki Clan seem rather reasonable," Kenta commented lazily, flipping the hare with a stick.
They had just returned from meeting the Yuki—whom Kei had initially mistaken for the Hōzuki clan.
The meeting had gone well, surprisingly so.
Not because they'd reached any concrete agreement, but because the Yuki clan's leader, a man named Minato (not to be confused with the Hokage), had been calm, polite, and rational—
the exact opposite of the arrogant, volatile Kaguya patriarch.
The Yuki lacked formal surnames, but that hardly mattered.
Their leader was a delicate-looking man with a composed, dignified air, unshaken even when the Konoha operatives had appeared uninvited in his private study.
Throughout their conversation, he had remained courteous, listening intently and responding with caution rather than fear.
Most importantly, he had expressed his firm opposition to the Isolation Edict—the Mist's brutal policy of cutting off all external contact.
Kei had already confirmed that stance through Orochimaru, which made the Yuki a potential ally—
or at least, a useful seed to plant.
Whether that seed ever sprouted wasn't his problem.
He was only there to sow it.
---
"Rational indeed," Ayaka murmured, her tone soft but pointed. "Isolation only breeds decay. And now they're not just sealing the ports—they're hunting foreigners like criminals."
She glanced at Kenta. "And if you burn that hare, I'll make you eat it yourself."
Kenta groaned. "Then why don't you cook, princess? You and the captain act like it's still wartime."
"It is wartime," Kei said with a faint smile, leaning back.
"And besides, we got used to your cooking on the battlefield.
You might as well keep your role consistent."
Kenta grumbled but said nothing more.
He'd learned long ago that arguing with either of them was pointless—especially after spending the war pretending to be an ordinary, nameless shinobi among elites like an Uchiha and a Hyūga.
By now, he'd simply accepted that cooking was his fate.
---
"Captain," Ayaka asked at last, "we've visited several clans now. What's next?"
Kei's response was immediate.
"That's enough. Visiting more would only draw attention. Our goal here is singular—the rest is secondary."
Both subordinates nodded in agreement.
Kenta, for one, was relieved. He had no interest in wasting time with endless diplomacy—especially when his standing in the mission corps was already precarious.
Ayaka, meanwhile, worried about losing focus on their true mission amid all these side operations.
"Any word from Orochimaru?" Kei asked, watching the hare turn golden over the fire. "He promised us a roster."
"Nothing yet," Kenta replied, shaking his head. "You know how hard he is to track. But I doubt he'd go back on his word. As for the ANBU units that came with us… we've heard nothing. No idea how they're faring."
"Forget them," Kei said lightly. "Orochimaru won't break a promise—not one that benefits him.
We'll stick to our part. Ayaka, what about the Kaguya clan? Any discoveries?"
Ayaka sighed. "None. I've been monitoring them daily since you asked. They train regularly, but I haven't seen a single member displaying any sign of a Kekkei Genkai."
Her frustration was obvious.
The implication was clear—their target might not even exist.
She'd even considered… less subtle methods.
If no one displayed the ability openly, perhaps they could force the truth out of someone.
Kei smiled faintly. "You're looking in the wrong place."
"What do you mean?" Ayaka asked, puzzled.
He tilted his head. "Think of your own clan, Ayaka. If the Hyūga produced a child without the Byakugan, how would your people treat them?"
She frowned slightly. "They'd… hide it. Disown the child, maybe."
"Exactly." Kei's eyes glinted. "So what do you think happens in the Kaguya clan, when awakening a Kekkei Genkai makes you the abnormal one?"
The fire crackled softly between them.
---
Sometimes, Kei thought, perspective was everything.
When one's view was fixed, so too were their conclusions.
The Kaguya were not a clan of reason. They were ruled by fear, pride, and violent conformity.
In such a society, a single outlier—a child who shattered their fragile balance—wouldn't be praised.
He'd be caged.
Just as Kimimaro had been.
Kei still remembered the stories:
the boy in chains, locked away in an iron cell, treated like a beast instead of a prodigy.
Raised to believe he was nothing but a weapon.
Cruel. Barbaric.
But in a twisted way… understandable.
When everyone else had lost a bloodline, equality became their only comfort.
Anyone who broke that illusion threatened the entire order.
From the Kaguya patriarch's perspective, it wasn't cruelty—it was control.
To preserve his power, he had to suppress the anomaly.
That anomaly was Kimimaro.
A child cursed by his own brilliance.
---
"So that's what you're suggesting," Ayaka murmured, eyes wide. "That their own genius is what doomed him."
"Exactly," Kei said. "The clan leader doesn't fear challenge—he fears imbalance.
When everyone's powerless, no one questions authority."
Kenta exhaled, grimly impressed. "And if that's the case, then the only 'pure-blooded' Kaguya left are the ones being locked away."
"Which," Kei added calmly, "means that's where we'll start looking."
Ayaka's eyes lit with realization. "I remember now—there was one household under unusually strict guard when I scanned the compound. I assumed it was the former leader's family and ignored it."
"Then that's where we're going," Kei said decisively.
Ayaka nodded. "There's a child there. Barely two or three years old."
Kei paused, thoughtful. "Two or three, huh… Then the timing fits."
He remembered the records.
Kimimaro—born in Konoha Year 46.
It was now Year 49.
A perfect match.
"Let's pay them a visit," he said quietly, eyes narrowing with purpose.
Whether or not that boy truly was Kimimaro didn't matter—
because one way or another, Kei would uncover the truth.
And if needed… he had ways to extract memories.
After all—Uchiha eyes could see far more than light alone.
Kei could read minds—
but not like the Yamanaka clan could.
The Yamanaka were born for that sort of thing, their mental infiltration jutsu refined through generations of mastery.
It was an art form that outsiders could never truly imitate.
Kei's Sharingan could touch memories too,
though nowhere near the precision of Sasuke Uchiha's later powers—
whose evolved eyes could delve directly into the depths of another's mind through illusion alone.
Kei's eyes hadn't reached that ultimate level.
But still, they allowed him glimpses—
not of precise recollections, but of the core desires hidden in a person's heart.
He could peer into someone's soul and see what they wanted most,
what they feared losing,
what their mind clung to when stripped bare.
He had done it before—
like the time he gazed into the heart of a Kaguya clansman he had captured.
What he saw there was raw and violent:
a burning desire to overthrow the Mizukage, to seize control of the Land of Water,
to crown the Kaguya as its rightful rulers.
That single vision told him everything.
It wasn't just one man's delusion—it was the collective dream of the entire Kaguya clan.
Their rebellion was inevitable.
It was faith, not strategy.
Still, Kei rarely relied solely on memory reading.
His Sharingan, coupled with his illusion techniques,
could make even the strongest minds willingly speak their secrets.
He had long since mastered interrogation—
even without the Sharingan, he could make captured shinobi break within minutes.
Now that his eyes had surpassed the Mangekyō stage,
though not yet the Eternal state,
his ability bordered on the supernatural.
Information, for him, was never hard to obtain.
---
"By the way," Kei said suddenly, his tone sharpening, "there's something important we need to discuss."
Ayaka Hyūga and Kenta Imai both looked up from their positions near the fire.
"But before that," he added, "scan the area. Every direction, especially underground. What I'm about to say can't be overheard."
"Yes, sir."
The two immediately followed orders.
Ayaka's Byakugan flared to life, her pale eyes gleaming as her gaze swept across every inch of their surroundings—
the walls, the distant streets, and the deep soil beneath their feet.
Kenta closed his eyes, heightening his sensory awareness, extending his chakra field outward.
He focused especially on the underground—a lesson Kei had drilled into them repeatedly.
The captain's warnings about "the ones beneath the ground" had never been idle.
Even if they hadn't caught anyone yet, both subordinates knew better than to doubt him.
After several tense moments, both nodded back at Kei. "Clear."
Kei gave a faint nod. "Good. Then I'll speak plainly."
He leaned forward slightly, his crimson eyes glinting in the firelight.
"We're going to expose ourselves—intentionally."
"Expose… ourselves?" Ayaka and Kenta exchanged bewildered glances.
Kenta blinked. "Why would we do that? We came in quietly—we could leave quietly too. Isn't that safer?"
"Unless…" Ayaka's voice softened thoughtfully. "Your informant—the one inside the Mist… you're worried they've been compromised?"
Kei smiled faintly. "Close enough.
In truth, we were already compromised the moment we arrived—not because of you two,
but because the ANBU blew our cover."
Kenta's brows shot up. "The ANBU? You mean the ones Orochimaru eliminated?"
Kei nodded.
Kenta frowned. "I see… then let me ask you something, Captain."
He hesitated briefly, then said, "The operative you placed in the enemy ranks—
is it someone from that night? The ones who attacked Konoha?"
Kei didn't even blink. He simply nodded once.
He had wondered how long it would take for Kenta to connect the dots.
So much for secrecy.
Kei had never intended to reveal that Obito Uchiha was alive,
nor that he himself had a sleeper agent within that shadowy organization Obito led.
But the truth was, he needed Ayaka and Kenta's cooperation—
their unique abilities made them indispensable to the mission.
And neither of them were fools.
Ever since they'd entered the Mist, Kei had repeatedly emphasized vigilance underground—
a warning he had only ever given once before.
That was the night of the Nine-Tails' attack.
If they couldn't piece that together, he'd have to question their intelligence altogether.
In fact, Kei suspected they'd already guessed as much,
but had kept silent out of respect—or fear.
Now, however, the time for silence was over.
---
"I knew it," Ayaka said quietly, her tone calm but her eyes sharp.
"When did you find out? And who else knows?"
She didn't ask who the operative was. She knew better than that.
Kei would never answer that question.
He looked between them, his expression unreadable.
"Since the night of the Nine-Tails' attack," he said softly.
"At that time, only the Fourth Hokage knew."
The weight of those words hit both of them instantly.
If Minato Namikaze had been the only one aware,
that meant this was classified at the highest possible level.
Whoever this operative was—
whoever Kei had influence over—
they could never be exposed.
They were a blade in the dark,
a weapon too dangerous to let the world see.
Someone capable of unleashing the Nine-Tails once could unleash far worse.
And Konoha needed to know what such people were planning—
before they ever turned their gaze back toward the Leaf.
---
"Damn it," Kenta muttered, running a hand through his hair.
"Those dead ANBU really left us a mess, didn't they?"
Ayaka exhaled slowly, her voice steady but her face pale.
"What's our next move, Captain?"
Kei's lips curved into a faint smile.
"There's a plan," he said, his tone deceptively light. "But I can't share the details.
All you need to know is this—we'll make it back safely."
He paused, and when he looked at them again, his Sharingan blazed to life, twin crimson mirrors reflecting the firelight.
"As for the rest," he said quietly,
"just follow my lead."
The scarlet tomoe spun, casting ripples of red across the darkened room.
Both subordinates felt the weight of that gaze—and the silent promise it carried.
Kei wasn't asking for obedience.
He was commanding it.
Whatever came next,
they would face it together—
even if it meant walking straight into the light…
only to vanish again into shadow.