"For the time being, Hiko, consider yourself restricted. Stay within the police headquarters or the clan compound. I will have others cover your patrols."
Hiko leaned against the doorframe, a faint, knowing smirk on his lips. "You're the Patriarch. If you want me to take a paid vacation while the heat dies down, who am I to argue?"
He turned to leave, but Fugaku's voice stopped him, softer this time. "Don't be too hard on Shisui. He is... a gentle soul. He acts out of a desire for peace, even if he is lost in the fog."
Hiko paused, his back to Fugaku. "Gentleness without a spine is just an invitation for others to walk over you, Patriarch. Shisui is a good man, but he has no heart of his own—he let the village higher-ups borrow it. I'm busy saving the clan; I don't have time to mourn for a man who chose his own cage."
He walked out, leaving the office in a heavy silence.
Fugaku stared at the closed door. Suddenly, his breath hitched. He slumped forward, his hands clutching the edge of his desk so hard the wood splintered. A muffled groan escaped his throat as two tracks of dark, viscous blood leaked from his eyes, staining the scrolls below.
He pressed a towel to his face, his body trembling. The Mangekyō... the price is always higher than expected. He whispered to the empty room, "Why? Why can't I see the path forward?"
The Prodigy and the Patriarch
Later that evening, Fugaku sat in the courtyard of the Uchiha estate. The sight of Sasuke and Itachi playing brought a rare, genuine softness to his eyes. Sasuke was all laughter and pride, boasting about his grades, while Itachi watched with that terrifyingly mature, distant gaze.
"Go upstairs, Sasuke," Fugaku commanded gently. "I need to speak with your brother."
Once the youngest was gone, the atmosphere chilled. Fugaku looked at Itachi, the "Golden Child" of the Uchiha. "You've seen what Hiko has done. To the Elders. To the Police. To Danzo. Give me your honest assessment."
Itachi knelt perfectly, his expression unreadable. "Senior Hiko is... effective. His methods are radical, and his disrespect toward the Sixth Elder was unnecessary, but I cannot deny the results. He has solved the complaint crisis that has plagued us for years."
"And the village?" Fugaku prodded.
"That is the danger," Itachi replied. "He has stripped away the illusion of harmony. By provoking Danzo, he has forced the village to watch us more closely. He is trading short-term internal unity for long-term external pressure."
Fugaku went quiet. He looked at his son—the boy he had planned to send into the Anbu as a spy for the clan. But the wind had changed. Hiko had proven that the "Anbu path" was a trap that led to men like Shisui becoming hollowed out.
"Change of plans, Itachi," Fugaku said firmly. "I will not send you to the Anbu. I am reorganizing the Police Department. Shisui's position is vacant. You will fill it. You will serve directly under Uchiha Hiko."
Itachi's eyes flickered—the only sign of his surprise. "Under Senior Hiko?"
"Yes. You think from the perspective of the village. He thinks from the perspective of the blood. I want you to watch him. Learn how he moves, and perhaps... find a middle ground before he burns the bridge entirely."
The Saint's Exhaustion
Late that night, a shadow flickered into the courtyard. Shisui Uchiha looked like a man who had fought a war and lost. His clothes were rumpled, his eyes bloodshot.
"Lord Patriarch," Shisui whispered, bowing low.
Fugaku poured a cup of tea, his own eyes still slightly red from the afternoon's strain. "The Personnel and Complaint Department... it is difficult?"
Shisui let out a hollow, weary laugh. "It is a nightmare. I spent the entire day being screamed at by civilians who hate us. I offered apologies, I offered compensation, but they don't want peace—they want to vent their rage at an Uchiha who is forbidden from fighting back."
He looked at his hands, trembling slightly. "Hiko was right about one thing... the hatred is deeper than I imagined. It takes a mountain of procedures just to get one person to stop spitting at us."
Fugaku watched him. Shisui was breaking. The "gentle soul" was being ground down by the very people he wanted to protect.
"Then tell me, Shisui," Fugaku asked, his voice echoing in the moonlit garden. "Now that you have stood where he stood... do you still think Hiko's 'radical' proposal to move you was an act of malice? Or was it the only way to show you the truth?"