After a day of work, most of the rubble in the Uchiha compound had been cleared.
Families set up tents beside their damaged homes. Orange lamplight glowed through the canvas, bonfires crackled in the yards, and the smell of rice and vegetables drifted from simmering pots.
The shock of destruction was fading. The survivors had accepted reality; their homes were gone, but they were alive. Most were calm, grateful.
When Uchiha Gen passed, people greeted him warmly, inviting him to share their meals with smiles. But not everyone could smile, families who had lost loved ones to the Nine-Tails grieved quietly in the shadows.
For a moment, Gen wondered if he had done wrong.
If he hadn't persuaded Fugaku, would those men still be alive?
But when he thought it through, the answer was clear.
He had suggested the course, but Fugaku had made the decision. And without decisive action, the tension between Uchiha and Konoha would only have grown sharper, harsher, until the entire clan was dragged into a fight they couldn't win.
Worse, if he hadn't intervened, Uchiha might have been wiped out entirely by traitors. Compared to two thousand lives and the future of the clan, losing a few jōnin was a cost he could accept.
Shinobi knew the price from the start. Graduation at the Academy meant readiness to face death. A broken clay pot must eventually shatter; a general is destined to fall in battle.
For ninja, that truth was harsher still.
Those who had died in the fight would not be carved into the memorial, but their families would be provided for compensation from the village, support from the clan.
The real culprit was Obito. If not for his betrayal, none of this would have happened. Why blame himself?
With that thought settled, Gen moved calmly from house to house, visiting the bereaved. He spoke with each family, listening. They were sorrowful, but none cursed Fugaku. On the contrary, they held their heads high with pride.
My husband, my son, and my brother died defending the honor of Uchiha, protecting Konoha.
Two years in this world, and Gen still sometimes viewed it with eyes from his past life. Here, people held honor above even survival, personal honor, family honor, and the clan's name. To them, such things outweighed life itself.
He smiled wryly. I worry too much. Maybe I'm just too soft.
When his rounds were finished, Gen made his way to Fugaku's home. Located in the center of the compound, the patriarch's house had not collapsed but stood cracked and unstable.
Repairs during the day had made it livable again.
The courtyard was bright, filled with clan shinobi. Fugaku and the three elders gave instructions as groups reported in. With the police force responsible for both guarding the village and stabilizing the clan, the workload was crushing.
As Gen approached, men stepped aside and greeted him with respect.
"Gen, over here," called a voice.
He turned from heading toward Fugaku and crossed to the great elder, Uchiha Setsuna.
"Elder Setsuna," Gen said with a slight bow.
"You did well last night," Setsuna said warmly. "Going to Hokage-sama for confirmation, choosing to support the Third directly, that was an excellent move for our future. And the way you put those Root dogs in their place… splendid."
His eyes gleamed. To Setsuna, the best part had been Gen's defiance of Root. The Police Force had existed before Danzo had even left the Academy. Why should the clan bow to him now?
"As the saying goes," Setsuna continued, "mistakes must be punished, and merits must be rewarded."
"The captain of the Ninth Division fell in the Nine-Tails' attack. I propose Gen be named the new captain of the Ninth Division. Fugaku, elders, your thoughts?"
"I agree," Fugaku said with a small smile.
"I agree," said Elder Yasunari.
"I agree," added Elder Chōsuke.
"And you?" Setsuna turned, sweeping his gaze over the courtyard. Then he raised his voice. "What about the rest of you?"
For a moment, silence. Normally, only the patriarch, deputy, and elders had the right to weigh in on such matters.
Then, voices began to rise.
"I agree."
"I agree."
One by one, more joined in, until the courtyard shook with a unified roar. The sound rolled through the compound like thunder. Neighbors paused in their work, glancing toward the patriarch's house in confusion.
Agree to what? they wondered.
On the veranda, young Itachi sat with his legs dangling. His cheeks flushed at the sight, blood rushing hot. A moment later the frightened toddler beside him burst into tears, and Itachi hurried to comfort him.
From the kitchen, Mikoto looked up from the stove, apron tied around her waist, curiosity in her eyes.
In the courtyard, Gen bowed deeply, face red. "Thank you, Patriarch, elders, and everyone for your trust. I'll fulfill my duty and work hard for the Uchiha clan!"
People really do grow sharper with age, he thought. If I were still a hot-blooded boy, this kind of praise would've bound me for life. Loyalty, devotion, burning myself out for the clan without hesitation.
Setsuna laughed. "Hahaha! Then we look forward to your work, Captain. In fact, you'll begin tonight. The Third Hokage has ordered Konoha sealed, no one enters, and no one leaves. The Police Force will lead the blockade."
Fugaku's voice followed, steady and commanding. "Beyond guarding the village, we will also work with Anbu to root out spies within the walls. If word of last night spreads too quickly, our enemies will strike before we are ready."
Gen nodded. "I've rested enough. I can work all night."
"Good," Fugaku said. He looked out at the crowd. "Any members of the Ninth Division present? Take your captain to his post."
"I'm Ninth Division," said a voice.
Gen turned and blinked. Uchiha Shu, the same man he had humbled on the Kirigakure front.
"Take your captain to the precinct," Fugaku ordered.
"Yes." Shu stepped forward, bowing slightly. "Captain, this way."
There was no trace of arrogance left in him, only sober respect. He had fought in the chaos last night too.
Gen gave a final bow. "Clan leader, elders, everyone. I'll take my leave."
With that, his figure blurred and vanished. Shu followed close behind, guiding him toward the division's post.