Konoha — Year 58
Uchiha Clan Meeting: The Night of Questions
Konoha was restless.
Emergency notices hung across the streets, some torn, some barely holding on.
Every one of them carried the same message:
Prepare for war. Be alert for spies.
The air felt heavy.
Not because of rain, but because of fear that everyone could sense but no one spoke about.
Merchants closed their shops earlier than usual.
Streets emptied before nightfall.
Children were kept indoors, warned not to wander outside after sunset.
Every shinobi looked the same when they passed by—alert, tense, waiting.
Waiting for the war to end.
The final stage of the Third Shinobi War was approaching.
One village after another had declared war against Konoha.
And with each passing day, worry grew deeper in the hearts of Konoha's people.
Inside the Uchiha clan compound, the atmosphere felt even heavier.
The Uchiha Clan Shrine—
normally a place for rituals and important meetings—was filled with unease tonight.
Low murmurs echoed through the hall.
Sharp whispers carried different opinions, clashing with one another.
At the front stood Uchiha Fugaku.
He had been the clan head for five years now. He had taken the position after his father's death, supported by both family ties and political division within the clan.
His father, Uchiha Iguchi, and his father-in-law, the former elder Uchiha Inoki, had backed him at the time.
Before him stood the entire clan.
Hawks.
Doves.
Neutrals.
Different ideologies, different beliefs—but tonight, they all spoke about the same thing.
The Third Shinobi War.
Fugaku allowed the noise to continue for a moment.
Then he coughed.
The sound cut through the hall.
The murmurs didn't stop.
Fugaku's eyes sharpened.
"Enough," he said loudly.
"I didn't call this meeting to turn it into a fish market."
His voice carried authority.
The discussions stopped at once.
The hall fell silent.
"I called this meeting because the Third Hokage has agreed to our conditions for joining the war," Fugaku continued, his voice steady.
" And," his gaze swept across the room, "he has also informed me that he expects an Uchiha candidate to stand for the position of Fourth Hokage after the war."
The words spread through the hall like fire.
Excitement erupted among the clan members.
Many of them had waited years for this moment—tired of guarding the village while others earned fame on the battlefield.
"Finally! The Uchiha will fight in the war again!"
"This time, the ninja world will remember why we are called the strongest clan!"
"If we win this war, the Fourth Hokage will be a Uchiha!"
Voices overlapped, loud and proud.
Excitement filled the shrine.
Old resentment faded as hope took its place.
For a brief moment, everyone believed that the clan's name would rise again—without question.
But not everyone shared that excitement.
In one corner of the hall, there was silence.
A boy stood there, watching the scene with a faint, pitiful smirk.
It really is easy, he thought. Give them a little hope, and they forget everything.
The boy was young—twelve, maybe thirteen.
He was the youngest person in the hall, which made his presence strange.
No child should have been allowed inside a clan council meeting.
Yet there he was, standing quietly, observing everyone.
He didn't join the cheers.
He didn't smile either.
He only watched them in silence.
When the noise finally lowered, he lifted his gaze toward the clan head and spoke.
"So, Clan Head," he said calmly, "Where does Sarutobi Hiruzen want us to die?"
The words fell into the hall like a stone dropped into still water.
The happiness was shattered.
Every head turned toward him.
Laughter froze mid-breath.
Then anger followed.
"What do you mean by want us to die?"
"Kid, are you afraid of war?"
"Do you think the Uchiha are cowards who fear death?!"
The shrine erupted again—this time filled with rage.
Uchiha Setsuna, leader of the Hawks and a veteran of the Second Shinobi War, only raised an eyebrow. He didn't stop the boy.
He watched him.
The Doves reacted differently.
"Are the Hawks afraid of blood now?"
"We don't need pests like you!"
"How dare you speak the Hokage's name like that!"
Toyama smiled faintly.
Cold.
Calm.
He let them curse him as much as they wanted.
Slowly, the noise began to fade.
When silence finally returned, he looked straight at Fugaku.
Fugaku felt the boy's gaze and answered in a low, sharp voice.
"What do you want to say, boy?"
Toyama didn't look away.
He met Fugaku's eyes and smiled faintly.
"I can explain to everyone how we're offering our necks without even realising it," he said calmly.
"But first, you need to answer something."
He glanced at the clan members around him.
"And maybe they should stop shouting like fools and start using their brains. If they have any."
The insult hung in the air.
For a brief moment, no one moved. No one breathed.
Fugaku stared at him—first surprised, then angry.
"Uchiha Toyama," he said slowly, each word controlled, "you are allowed to stand here because you awakened the three-tomoe Sharingan at a young age. That is the only reason I have ignored your attitude until now."
His voice hardened.
"Ask your question. But if you speak nonsense or disrespect this hall again, you will face consequences."
Toyama tilted his head slightly.
"I want them to understand the situation they're in," he replied.
"That's why I'm explaining it. Otherwise, I wouldn't waste my time talking to people who can't think."
Murmurs broke out again.
Several Sharingan flared to life across the shrine.
Red eyes spin in anger.
The air grew heavy with chakra.
If he said one more wrong word, someone might lose control tonight.
And if that happened, Mangekyō might awaken—not from grief, but from pure rage.
Toyama spoke again, his tone calm and clear.
"Clan Head, can you explain something first?" he asked.
"Why did Sarutobi Hiruzen not allow us to join the war at the beginning… and why are we being allowed to join now?"
He paused.
"Answer that first. Then I'll ask the next question."
Fugaku's eyes darkened when he heard the Hokage's name spoken so directly.
"You should address him as Third Hokage-sama," he said sharply.
Toyama shrugged slightly. "Fine. Then answer."
A ripple of tension passed through the hall.
Fugaku's expression hardened.
Before he could continue, Setsuna stepped forward.
"You arrogant brat," Setsuna warned, his voice firm.
"If you don't have a proper reason for these accusations, you will face consequences. And no one here will protect you."
Toyama glanced at him and gave a small nod, as if accepting the risk.
Fugaku exhaled slowly and began to speak.
"At the beginning," he said, "the Third Hokage-sama wanted us to participate in the war. But Elder Danzō did not trust us. The other elders were also cautious."
He looked toward the jōnin present in the hall.
"For that reason, permission was not granted."
There was a hint of regret in his voice.
"But now," Fugaku continued, "the situation on the battlefield has become serious. The Hokage forced the elders to agree."
His tone grew more confident.
"He also promised me that he would personally support a Uchiha candidate for the position of Fourth Hokage."
A faint smile appeared on his face.
"He has shown goodwill toward our clan. Now it is our turn to prove ourselves."
His gaze returned to Toyama.
"And you, without knowing the full situation, dare to accuse the Hokage?"
Toyama only smiled faintly.
"Wow," Toyama said quietly.
The word alone made several people stiffen.
"You really polished the Hokage's image just now," he continued. "Like a son praising his father."
A few gasps echoed through the hall.
Fugaku's eyes sharpened.
Chakra began to rise again—low, dangerous.
Toyama didn't raise his voice.
"In fact," he added calmly, "it makes me worry about the future of the clan… if this is the thinking of its leader."
Before Fugaku could respond, Toyama continued.
"Let me explain something clearly," he said, turning his gaze toward the jōnin and elders present.
"The Third Hokage didn't keep us out because the elders were suspicious."
He paused.
"That's the excuse."
His eyes briefly met Fugaku's.
"He kept us out because he was wary of us."
A murmur spread through the shrine.
"Wary of what?" someone demanded.
"Of what we gain from war," Toyama
answered immediately. "Battle merit. Fame. Influence."
He looked around the room slowly.
"In every war, strength rises. Recognition rises. Power shifts."
Some of the older jōnin shifted uncomfortably.
"You all know it," Toyama said. "Don't pretend you don't."
No one spoke.
"The village does not highlight our achievements in previous wars," he continued.
"You think that was an accident?"
A few eyes lowered.
Toyama's tone remained steady.
"If we had joined from the start, and if some among us performed exceptionally… what would that create?"
Silence.
"More influence for the Uchiha," someone muttered quietly.
Toyama nodded once.
"And influence changes balance."
The shrine grew heavier.
He simply let the idea settle in their minds.
"At the beginning of the war," Toyama continued, "he already had enough strong people."
He paused briefly.
"And by 'people,' I mean powerful individuals who would fight without questioning him."
The hall listened closely now.
"One of them," Toyama said, "was Hatake Sakumo."
That name carried weight.
"You all know his strength," Toyama went on.
"You all know his reputation."
A few older jōnin nodded unconsciously.
"But there was one problem," Toyama said. "His merit and fame were growing too fast."
Murmurs began.
"He was becoming more respected than the Hokage himself."
The reaction was immediate.
Some looked shocked.
Others looked uneasy.
A few turned toward Fugaku, waiting for him to shut it down.
Fugaku stepped forward.
"Brat," he said sharply. "Do not spread rumours in this hall."
Toyama's eyes flashed.
"Then tell me I'm wrong," he shot back.
The reply was so sudden that Fugaku went still.
Toyama didn't stop.
"Don't sacrifice our clan for someone else's comfort," he said, his voice no longer teasing—just firm.
"You are Fugaku Uchiha… not Fugaku Sarutobi."
The insult was subtle—but it landed hard.
Chakra stirred again across the shrine.
Fugaku's expression darkened.
He was about to speak—
"Let him finish."
The voice of Grand Elder Setsuna came.
The grand elder's tone was calm, but it carried authority.
His eyes remained on Toyama.
Fugaku held his words.
Silence returned.
Toyama looked around at the clan members who were now waiting for him to continue.
This time, no one interrupted.
"I'll make it simple," Toyama said.
He looked slowly across the hall.
"From the Second Shinobi War until recently, Hatake Sakumo gathered enormous merit."
Several elders shifted in place.
"So much," Toyama continued, "that the Hokage publicly honoured him. Gave him recognition equal to his own."
He paused.
"If Sakumo had achieved just a little more… he would have become Fourth Hokage purely on merit."
That sentence lingered.
Some of the older jōnin exchanged looks.
Toyama didn't rush.
"You all knew it," he said quietly. "Even children could see it."
No one denied it.
"Now comes the important part," Toyama said. "Listen carefully."
The hall had gone completely silent.
"The problem wasn't Sakumo's strength," he continued.
"It wasn't his loyalty either."
He looked directly at the elders.
"The problem was that he wasn't anyone's puppet."
The word hit harder than shouting would have.
"He was an ANBU captain," Toyama said.
"He had influence. He had respect. He had independent authority."
A few faces in the crowd turned pale.
"If someone like that became Hokage,"
Toyama continued, "he wouldn't belong to any faction. Not Sarutobi. Not anyone."
He let that settle.
"That would have been good for the village," Toyama added.
"And good for us."
His tone carried a faint regret.
"But it would not have been good for those who prefer control."
Eyes shifted toward the elders—quickly, then away again.
Toyama inhaled slowly.
"When rumours started spreading about him… when that one failed mission became public…" he said quietly, "did anyone here investigate?"
Silence.
"We don't even know the full details."
Toyama said. "We only know he failed because he chose to protect his teammate."
He looked at Fugaku.
"And we did nothing."
The words were not loud.
But they carried weight.
"ANBU missions are always secret," Toyama continued.
"But somehow, this particular mission failed… and the details spread."
He gave a faint, humourless laugh.
"A teammate leaked it. Convenient, isn't it?"
A few people shifted uneasily.
"And that teammate?" Toyama went on.
"Either very hard to find… or no longer alive."
The implication hung in the air.
"And yet," Toyama said, "the Third Hokage never stepped forward to clear Sakumo's name."
He looked toward the elders.
"A man who completed countless missions successfully… ruined publicly because of one failure."
Silence.
"And that failure?" Toyama added. "The only thing we know is that he chose to save his teammate."
The shrine felt colder.
"You all remember what happened after," Toyama said. "His son graduated early."
Several Uchiha nodded slowly.
"The Hokage personally showed concern," Toyama continued.
"He made sure the village saw it."
His tone was steady.
"Compassion shown publicly. Reputation secured."
Murmurs began again.
"But look at the timing," Toyama said quietly.
"The White Fang dies. The war grows worse."
He paused.
"And suddenly… we are needed."
No one interrupted now.
"If Sakumo had lived," Toyama continued,
"he would have been the natural choice for Fourth Hokage."
His eyes sharpened slightly.
"But now? That position is open."
A heavy silence settled across the hall.
"And now," Toyama said, turning back to Fugaku, "we are promised a candidate position."
He took one slow step forward.
"So before you celebrate," he finished, his voice calm and cold," answer my real question."
He met Fugaku's eyes directly.
"Where does the Hokage plan to send the Uchiha?"
The shrine fell completely silent.
No one cheered now.
No one argued.
Even the lantern flames seemed smaller.
For the first time this night, doubt had entered the hall.
And it refused to leave.