Location: Konoha – Uchiha Clan Grounds – Ancestral Shrine, Secret Chamber
The thick, imposing stone walls of the Uchiha clan's ancestral shrine exuded silence and secrecy. Beneath the main altar lay a hidden room, reserved only for clan elders, elites, and those chosen to attend its confidential gatherings. Its silence wasn't just ceremonial—it was sacred, ancestral, and political.
Tonight, it was full.
Every seat was occupied by either a high-ranking Uchiha jonin with awakened Sharingan or a civilian family head whose influence and wealth helped fund the clan's rise. Among them sat Fugaku Uchiha, clan head, in the central forward seat, his posture straight, calm, and as unyielding as ever.
On either side of him were the oldest members of the two dominant factions within the clan—those favoring integration and reform, and those still clinging to isolationism and purity. Their eyes roved like hawks through the room, studying every expression, every twitch. The conversations were hushed, but tension lingered just beneath the surface, thick as oil.
Yoruusagi Uchiha, the enigmatic, sharp-tongued kunoichi, entered late—though not unwelcome. Her sleek presence turned a few heads, but most already knew her place was no longer just among them. She quietly took a seat in the back row, flanked by two younger Uchiha—children, no older than eight and fourteen—who glanced at her with both curiosity and admiration. She nodded politely.
Once the doors were sealed from the outside, the gathering officially began.
---
Fugaku tapped his tea table lightly. The simple sound cut through the murmuring like a signal from a battlefield.
"Tonight marks the final meeting of winter," he announced firmly, "and so, as is our custom, we will discuss the year's ending matters with sincerity and unity. Let's begin with the state of our **economy and population. Elder Kanabukuro, if you will."
An older man with very modest chakra reserves slowly stood. His back was slightly stooped, but his presence commanded attention. Elder Kanabukuro was no warrior, but in the realms of logistics, economy, and civil policy, he was a lion.
His raspy voice filled the room. He detailed recent spending reports, income from clan businesses, and the slow but steady recovery of their financial reserves after the recent relocation initiative. Clan-owned security units had begun protecting major trading convoys, giving rise to new revenue streams. Several business ventures with minor clans were now showing promise.
"The pink glow in the evenings," he added with a chuckle, "suggests our population is also steadily increasing. Our birthrate is up. The nights are… busy."
A few younger men chuckled. Yoruusagi nearly choked, blinking wide-eyed.
That's one way to phrase it, old man…
She could definitely confirm that "pink glow." She'd been losing sleep thanks to the paper-thin walls of her neighbor's house and the not-so-subtle "noises of Uchiha passion" echoing through the midnight wind.
Fugaku nodded. "Thank you, Elder."
They moved through other topics—supply chain issues, land rights, and the repair work to the clan's outer walls. Then came the question of village relations.
---
This topic used to ignite firestorms. Yet tonight, the air remained still.
A miracle.
Allowing trusted civilian ninjas to join the Uchiha police forces had drastically reduced village complaints. The new policy of mixing patrols—three Uchiha to seven non-clan—had changed public perception. The eyes that once saw the clan as predators now saw them as protectors.
Yoruusagi listened intently. These talks mattered. This was the pulse of her people—measured and strategic. And like a gossip magpie, she filed away every juicy detail, ready to whisper them into Kakashi's ear later when he least expected it. Especially the secret retirement of 20 "hospitalized" elite Uchiha—sent discreetly to guard distant mines...
A rare moment of unity stirred among the two factions of Uchiha leadership. The tone shifted as one elder raised a hand and spoke with a lighter note.
"Since peace has improved with the civilian ninjas entering our police ranks, and the patrol teams now being mixed, we've seen fewer complaints and more cooperation. We should take this opportunity further. Let the people of the village see that the Uchiha are not some isolated force—but part of the village heart."
Another elder nodded. "Let us hold a Spring Festival in the clan bazaar. Open the gates to villagers. Show them our culture, our strength, and our joy."
The idea quickly gained momentum.
"And let us offer vouchers," added another. "Distribute them to the civilian ninjas serving in the patrol squads. Invite them to come with their families and friends. Let their companions walk our streets, taste our food, and buy from our vendors. Let Konoha see us not as a shadow, but as part of the light."
Fugaku leaned forward and nodded in approval. "Let it be done. We'll organize the festival. Prepare the invitations. And issue the vouchers by the first week of spring."
Cheers and approving murmurs filled the hall. Even the younger members seemed to smile, imagining the colorful festival, and perhaps even finding it easier to walk among the villagers once again.
For a moment, it felt like progress.
Then came the unexpected bombshell.
---
"Now," Fugaku said, shifting his tone. "There is one final topic tonight."
All chatter stopped.
"Many of you reported sensing abnormal chakra surges from Training Ground Number 7 this morning."
Several nodded. The room grew taut with expectation.
Fugaku continued. "We attempted to approach but were intercepted by ANBU operatives. However, I have since spoken with the Hyūga clan leader. What I learned… is troubling."
A pause.
"Konoha's higher-ups have begun training the Nine-Tails Jinchūriki."
Gasps.
"The disruption today was not an accident—it was the child himself, engaging in a full-force taijutsu battle against Might Guy, who was forced to open his Fourth Gate. And yet, the child not only withstood him—he returned blow for blow, chakra leaking from his body… in perfect control."
Silence.
Yoruusagi braced herself. She had seen it, lived it, loved it. She knew the truth. But before she could defend him, someone spoke—and made things far worse.
---
"Ridiculous!" shouted a large man with a pockmarked chin. "He's a year and a half old! That's not chakra control—it's propaganda!"
The fool's name was Koton, and he was known more for his muscles than his mind.
"He's just a child! The Hyūga have been fooled—and so have you, Clan Leader!"
Yoruusagi's eye twitched.
Great. This walking potato just insulted Menma, the Hyūga clan, Fugaku, and the Hokage in one sentence. Who is this guy?!
But another voice cut in—Tonbo, a dreamy-eyed man with wild hair and an obsession with flight.
"I saw him!" Tonbo said, eyes gleaming. "He was running bare-chested beside Might Guy! The boy moved like a falcon, twisting through the streets, leaving red chakra trails in the air! He danced around civilians and carts with grace that would make an eagle weep!"
Yoruusagi nearly laughed. Temple Runner… you've got a fanbase already, Menma.
Koton snorted. "Tonbo, your dreams of flying have rotted your brain! Maybe you dreamed the whole thing!"
Tonbo roared, leapt to his feet, Sharingan flaring. "Then let me show you what dreams look like when they punch you in the face!!"
Koton sprang up to meet him—and the two idiots launched into midair—
Right. At. Yoruusagi.
With a sigh, she spun in place and kicked one in the gut, elbowed the other in the jaw, and sent both men flying backwards like broken birds.
"IDIOTS!" she growled. "There are children here! Take your nonsense outside—unless you want Fugaku-sama to break your legs himself! Right, Patrick Clan Leader?"
Fugaku coughed. "…Indeed."
---
The conversation, now sobered, finally shifted to strategic matters.
One elder stood. "Whether or not the child can control the beast—we must plan for every outcome. It's not about trust. It's about insurance. The Fourth died due to such oversight. We must never again be caught unprepared."
Fugaku nodded. "Well said. We are to stay alert. If any of you are targeted by Genbu operatives, report immediately. We have five Uchiha inside the ANBU. Use them."
Then he stood, ready to dismiss the gathering—
When a voice interrupted.
---
"Clan Leader! Before we adjourn, I believe there's… one more matter. Concerning Lady Yoruusagi."
All eyes turned.
She blinked. "...Me?"
A girl with soft brown hair stood. Her name was Sunifa, one of the younger elites.
"There are rumors," she said, eyes narrow. "That you have grown close to Kakashi Hatake."
Oh no…
"That he possesses a Sharingan… and now seeks to claim our bloodline with romance."
Oh no no no—
"Lady Yoruusagi, we must awaken you from this trap!"
Kakashi, far across the village, nearly sliced his finger off cutting fish.
---
Fugaku frowned and deferred to the elders. The room braced for conflict.
But the response was measured.
As the elders' gazes turned toward Fugaku, the Uchiha Clan Head remained silent, knowing this was a matter of tradition, not personal leadership. One of the senior elders stepped forward and addressed the room with calm authority, outlining the conditions for any union between an Uchiha and an outsider—especially one involving the sharingan.
"Since the earliest days of our clan's bloodline, certain principles have preserved the strength and sanctity of our kekkei genkai. While we are no longer opposed to marriages outside the clan—so long as they are not with our enemies—there are unwavering conditions to be met. Especially when the outsider already possesses our gift, like Kakashi Hatake."
The hall fell silent. Even the younger Uchiha stopped whispering, listening with bated breath.
"One. The outsider must be subject to close observation. If he is not already part of the clan compound, he must move close enough for us to keep regular contact. Living in the same village counts toward this requirement, but he will be expected to visit the compound regularly.
Two. Any children born from such a union who awaken the sharingan must be registered within the Uchiha clan and raised with clan teachings. No exceptions. Our blood must remain united, and its strength preserved.
Three. The sharingan possessed by the outsider must be sealed. A fūinjutsu will be applied to both eyes—not just the sharingan—rendering them unusable in the event they are removed from his body. This ensures the protection of our kekkei genkai from black-market collectors, enemies, or grave robbers.
And lastly, should the outsider refuse these terms—should he choose not to bind himself by oath to the clan—then he must surrender the sharingan. He will have to return the dojutsu to its rightful owners and live with ordinary eyes, or disable himself from ever using it again. That is the cost of walking away with the blood of our people in his body."
There were a few murmurs and frowns, especially from younger clan members who admired Kakashi. But among the elders, this decision had already been weighed.
"Considering that the Hatake line is nearly extinguished, and that young man holds just one sharingan, his case is special. Still, he must accept these conditions in full, if he is to love and marry a daughter of Uchiha."
The elder turned to Yoruusagi and said gently but firmly, "You are free to love as you choose, but you must act with responsibility and honor. Speak to him. If he agrees, bring him to us. He must face the clan."
Yoruusagi nodded once, determined.
---
As the clan dispersed into the soft Uchiha night, conversations buzzed—but the tone was no longer heavy.
It was soft. Warm.
Like the pink hue of early spring blooming under the shadow of winter's last breath.
Tonight, the Uchiha moon glowed… not red with rage,
But pink with possibility.
---
Far from Konoha – A Brewing Storm
In a world where no wireless waves buzzed through air and no glowing screens shared the latest whisper, information didn't travel with the speed of light. News was carried on paper, footsteps, and birdsong. It was supposed to take days—sometimes weeks—for messages to reach distant lands.
But not this time.
Not when the message concerned Konoha's Nine-Tails Jinchūriki.
Not when it claimed that a two-year-old child had entered perfect synchronization with the strongest of all tailed beasts.
---
Village Hidden in the Clouds – Raikage's Office
It was late, past the hour when torches were normally snuffed and warriors sought rest. But the Raikage's tower remained ablaze with candlelight. Inside the grand office, dozens of shinobi—tacticians, captains, sensors, and advisors—stood shoulder-to-shoulder in stunned silence. A single sheet of parchment lay at the center of the storm.
Its contents were brief, but explosive:
"Konoha's star Jinchūriki – Training confirmed."
"Control: perfect. Range: stable."
No signature. No insignia. Just a black stamp marking it as an A-Class intelligence report.
Raikage A stood at the head of the table, his jaw tight, his fists twitching with tension. He glared at the report like it was a snake ready to bite.
Beside him, leaning on a window frame and grinning with rap rhythm in his breath, was Killer B, jinchūriki of the Eight Tails, Gyūki.
A's voice, low but charged with disbelief, finally broke the silence.
"B… How likely is it that a child barely past his first birthday is able to control the Nine-Tails' chakra? Fully? Like this paper claims?"
B shrugged with a beat, his grin fading.
"You askin' me if that Fox been tamed,
At that baby age, man—this world's inflamed!
Either they lyin' with a ninja trick,
Or that kid's soul is mad, deep, and thick."
Even Gyūki stirred in B's mind, sending a rare pulse of alarm.
"Kurama...? Submitting? That easily...? Something's not right."
Raikage A slammed the desk with a force that rattled its legs.
"If it's true… that child is a living nuke. I won't wait for the blast to reach us. Konoha is clearly preparing to weaponize him. And I'll crush that threat before it finishes forming. We proceed with our plan."
He stormed out without waiting for confirmation. Everyone followed, except for B—who reached into the folds of his coat and closed his eyes.
"Yo, Gyu, that fox got caught in a snare?
Let's make a call. Ain't time to spare…"
---
Deep Within the Spiritual Plane – Tailed Beasts' Shared Realm
Kurama lay on his stone perch within the depths of Menma's seal, his immense body curled in a lazy sprawl, his thoughts tangled between distant memories and recent heartbreaks. He was trying not to think about the boy. Not to replay the parting words. Not to wonder why the sincerity had stung.
But then he felt it—an old tug at the edges of his being.
A ripple in the veil between beasts.
A summons from the others.
He hadn't felt it since… since the days of Hashirama Senju.
With an annoyed flick of his tails, Kurama stirred and allowed his consciousness to slip into the shared mind-space between the Nine. He materialized slowly, manifesting as a hulking shadow of red and flame-tipped fur. Across from him stood Gyūki, the Eight-Tails, his massive tentacles coiled calmly, eyes fixed.
"Kurama," the ox-beast rumbled with rare gentleness.
"It's been too long. Are you well?"
Kurama huffed. "I was… until now. What is it?"
Gyūki tilted his head. "There's something… off. Your chakra. It's different. Mixed with something else. Something foreign."
Kurama scoffed. "Tch. You're imagining things."
But then he looked at himself.
And he saw it.
Not remnants of Kushina's seal… but a new flow—Menma's chakra, vivid and unmistakable.
Purity. Curiosity. Forgiveness.
It intertwined with his own like ivy on an ancient tree.
"...Shit," Kurama muttered aloud.
And for the first time in centuries, he felt something akin to fear.
---
Morning – Konoha Begins Anew
As sunlight poured over the snow-blanketed rooftops of Konoha, the birds sang their early greetings to a new day. But inside the Hatake household, the morning began a little more chaotically.
Kakashi reached out sleepily to shut off his alarm. But instead of metal or plastic, his hand landed on something soft. And furry.
Blinking blearily, he came face to face with a ball of warm fluff—Snow, Menma's personal queen-cat, perched on his chest, staring unblinking into his soul.
"...Another day," Kakashi sighed.
"And still no peace."
Snow did not move. She merely blinked. Judgmental.
---
Konoha Hospital
Meanwhile, within the softly lit walls of Ward 3C, Menma sat upright in his bed for the first time in days. His body was still wrapped in layers of bandages, his ribs aching, his limbs sore—but his spirit had begun to heal.
Guy sat at the edge of the bed, animatedly talking about battle rhythm and the art of sensing momentum in a fistfight. Menma listened with a tired but happy smile, nodding occasionally, enjoying the warmth of conversation.
Then—Thud!
A small but heavy blur of soft white fur leapt into his chest.
Snow had returned.
She meowed once, indignantly, rubbing herself hard against his broken ribs.
"Ow—easy, girl…"
But his voice cracked with emotion. His hands trembled as he hugged her close, careful but firm. She curled in his lap like a loyal lioness guarding her wounded cub.
In that moment, Menma didn't think about jinchūriki or war, clans or politics.
Just soft fur, gentle warmth, and the peace of being loved.
---