No one spoke.
The council hall—once filled with nonstop arguments, accusations, and blame—had fallen into complete silence, as if time itself had frozen.
Clan heads sat rigid in their seats, their gazes fixed on the village higher-ups. The elders and officials avoided those stares, looking anywhere but at the people before them.
Some clan heads appeared calm on the surface, unmoving. But inside, a single thought repeated again and again.
Twenty-eight years.
Twenty-eight years meant that after the death of the Second Hokage, the Uchiha had received proper funding for barely a year and a half to maintain the village guard force.
Toyoma quietly observed the scene.
He did not press further.
What needed to be said had already been said.
Now, all that remained was a response.
The Third Hokage looked at Toyoma.
For the first time, he truly realized how dangerous the boy standing before him was.
Toyoma's hands rested calmly on the table.
His face was composed, almost relaxed.
Yet inside the Hokage, everything churned.
This was no longer a debate between the village and a single clan.
This was an open wound—one that had existed within Konoha itself for decades.
This was no longer about policies or leadership.
It was a black mark on his career as Hokage.
If someone asked him where the funds meant for the village guard had gone…He had no answer.
And worse—he could not simply speak the truth.
One thing was clear to him now.
From this moment onward, things would never return to how they once were between him and the clan heads.
He was not wrong.
The leaders of the other clans were thinking the same thing.
If a great clan like the Uchiha could be pushed to this point…What chance did small and medium clans have?
They finally understood something terrifying—
If they remained silent when injustice struck others, it would only be a matter of time before that injustice reached them.
And by then, it would be too late.
The most troubled person in the hall was the Hyūga clan head, Hiashi.
One thought dominated his mind.
The first clan to fall was the Senju.
That loss had been called a "great sacrifice for the village."
Now, whispers about the Uchiha surfaced again and again—accusations of rebellion, now they claim that they lacked funds; the suspicions are unfounded.
What clan could rebel without resources?
And if the Uchiha truly wished to rebel… they would have every reason to.
Hiashi understood it now.
This was nothing more than the village's method of weakening its own clans.
If this continued—
The Hyūga, as Konoha's third great clan, would be next.
The realisation sent a cold sweat down his spine.
"This is ridiculous…"
The words slipped out of his mouth before he realised it.
Nara Shikaku heard him.
He didn't question it.
He understood exactly why the Hyūga clan head looked so shaken.
If the village truly had its sights set on the great clans—
Then the Hyūga being next was not an assumption.
Fugaku finally broke the silence.
His gaze moved slowly across the hall before settling on the Hokage.
"When I first asked my father about the funding of the village guard," he said evenly, "he told me the truth."
He paused.
"At that time, the Third Hokage had not yet taken office. The funds we received—barely enough for one year—were approved by the Senju elders who governed then."
A faint tightening appeared around his eyes.
"After the Third Hokage assumed his position, we were told there were… difficulties. Border tensions. Rumors of the Second Shinobi War. Emergency expenditures."
His voice remained calm, but the weight behind it was unmistakable.
"After that, no funds ever came."
A murmur stirred in the hall.
"To continue maintaining the guard force, we paid our people using rental income from Uchiha-owned properties. As our numbers grew, that income was no longer enough."
Fugaku's fingers curled slightly.
"So we sold our land. One property after another."
Only then did his gaze harden.
"The Hawk faction never sold theirs. They opposed the village from the start and refused to cooperate."
He let the words sink in.
"Now, the Dove and Neutral factions possess almost nothing within Konoha. Our income is gone. Our influence reduced to shadows."
He exhaled slowly.
"I always believed this was because the village did not trust the Uchiha."
His eyes lifted to meet the Hokage's.
"And so, I chose silence. I chose restraint. I tried to maintain balance… believing that if we endured, trust would eventually be restored."
The Hokage looked at Fugaku, his lips parting slightly—yet no words came.
Before the silence could stretch further, a voice cut in from the side.
Cold. Mocking.
"So why," Danzō said lazily, "are the Uchiha acting as though they are victims?"
All eyes turned to him.
"The village's distrust did not appear without reason," he continued. "And you know that. Everyone here knows that."
His visible eye narrowed.
"You are the only clan in Konoha's history to have rebelled twice."
A ripple passed through the hall.
"The first time," Danzō said, "was when Madara Uchiha turned against Hashirama Senju, plunging the village into civil war."
He paused deliberately.
"And shortly after that conflict… the First Hokage died."
The implication hung in the air—unspoken, but heavy.
"The second time," Danzō went on, his gaze shifting toward the Uchiha elders, "was when your own Grand Elder, Setsuna Uchiha, rebelled during the early days of Tobirama sensei's rule."
His tone hardened.
"And now you stand here and claim the village's suspicions were baseless?"
A faint sneer curved his lips.
"No. This mistrust was not born from nothing."
He tapped the table lightly.
"It was born from Uchiha actions.
Uchiha attitude.
Uchiha history."
Silence followed.
Not because anyone agreed—
But because no one could deny that those events had truly happened.
From the Uchiha seats to the farthest clan head, every person in the hall understood the same thing.
This was the truth.
And truth, when wielded like a weapon, was far more dangerous than a lie.
Elder Setsuna finally moved.
Slowly, he lifted his head and looked directly at Danzo.
The anger on his face was unmistakable—but it was the kind born from long restraint, not impulse.
"How much longer?" he asked, his voice sharp but steady. "How many decades do you intend to push the Uchiha for the same events?"
A murmur rippled through the hall.
"You speak as if nothing happened after those incidents," Setsuna continued. "As if the years that followed—years of loyalty, sacrifice, and silence—meant nothing."
His eyes narrowed.
"We rebelled because the Senju deceived us," he said bluntly. "That conflict was between the Senju and the Uchiha."
He leaned forward slightly.
"And tell me, Danzo—what does that have to do with you?"
The question struck like a slap.
"Is your surname Senju?" Setsuna demanded. "Were you part of that betrayal?"
His voice hardened.
"Yet you use a conflict that predates your authority to justify pressuring us today."
A pause.
"This is no longer justice."
His gaze swept across the council.
"This is nothing but pressure to Uchiha stretched across generations."
Elder Kohaku placed a steadying hand on Setsuna's arm, silently urging restraint.
Before Setsuna could respond, Danzo spoke again—his tone cold, controlled, and faintly triumphant.
"Who can say the Uchiha won't rebel again in the future?" he said."That is precisely why they must be kept in check. If rebellion happens again, it will not be the leadership alone that suffers."
His gaze hardened.
"It will be all of Konoha."
Several of the higher-ups subtly relaxed.
Toyoma looked at Danzō.
Not sharply.
Not challengingly.
Just… openly.
"So," he said, tilting his head slightly, "you're afraid the Uchiha might rebel against you someday?"
Danzō didn't hesitate.
"Yes," he replied flatly."Who can guarantee you madmen won't rebel again?"
Toyoma blinked once.
Then he laughed—quietly, like he hadn't expected the honesty.
"Well…" he said, rubbing his chin."Yeah. There's some truth to that."
The hall stiffened.
"The Uchiha will fight the Senju," Toyoma went on casually, as if stating the weather."After all—hypocrisy has always been your clan's speciality."
A few elders sucked in sharp breaths.
"And as for vengeance between our clans—"He shrugged."Come on. Even the whole world knows that story."
He glanced around the room, eyes almost curious.
"So," he asked lightly, "which one of you here is Senju by blood?"
Silence.
Not the thoughtful kind.The dangerous kind.
Toyoma smiled wider.
"Go on," he said."Tell us."
"And we'll happily agree—right here—that the Uchiha will rebel against him."
The village higher-ups stared back in fury.
Fists clenched.
Teeth ground.
From the Uchiha side, someone snorted.
Another coughed—badly hiding a laugh.
Then the Grand Elder broke.
He slammed his hand onto the table and burst out laughing.
Not polite.
Not restrained.
Pure, ugly laughter.
"Yes!" he barked."Say it! Which one of you bastards is Senju-bred?!"
He leaned forward, eyes wild.
"I'll say it clearly right here—if you're Senju, we'll rebel against you!"
The laughter echoed through the hall.
Too loud.
Too real.
No one answered.
Not Danzō.Not the elders.Not even the Hokage.
Because this time—
It wasn't politics.
It wasn't history.
It was personal.
And the silence that followed hurt far more than any accusation.
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