Konoha — Year 18
After the end of the Warring States Period and the founding of the ninja villages, many clans believed that unnecessary deaths would finally come to an end.
They thought the era of missions fueled by blind hatred and personal vendettas would fade away.
That revenge, born from old grudges and mission clashes—where one clan defended while another attacked—would slowly disappear.
The very concept of a ninja village was built on that dream—a promise of peace, cooperation, and harmony.
But reality did not follow imagination.
Peace remained an ideal spoken of in meetings and written in records, while blood continued to stain the shadows.
Revenge did not vanish.
It merely learned to hide itself behind different masks.
Eighteen years after Konoha's founding, revenge returned—not as openly as in the Warring States era, but wearing masks.
A mask of justice.
A mask of the Will of Fire.
A mask that claimed to be for the village.
Inside a dimly lit room, the elder of the Hawk Faction—Setsuna—stood alone.
A single oil lamp flickered beside him, stretching his shadow across the floor, where kunai, swords, and other ninja weapons rested in silent rows.
The shadows clung to steel, as if waiting.
On the table before him lay several mission reports.
Setsuna read them one by one.
His fingers slowly tightened around the parchment.
The more he read, the colder his expression became.
Uchiha shinobi.
Dead.
Missing.
Cause of death—unidentified.
Reason—lack of intelligence.
The words were familiar.
Too familiar.
He had seen the same explanations countless times before.
Dozens of reports.
Hundreds of missions.
Always the same conclusions, written neatly—as if repeating them again and again could turn excuses into truth.
Too many Uchiha were vanishing during missions.
Too many skilled shinobi were reduced to names carved into stone.
And the village's explanations never changed.
Misinformation.
Enemy interference.
Unidentified causes.
Setsuna's fingers tightened again, the paper creasing under his grip.
If uncertainty or accidents happened once or twice, they could be dismissed as misfortune.
But when the same "accident" repeated again and again, it stopped being uncertain.
It became a pattern.
And patterns were not accidents.
They became plans.
Flawed missions were rare in the era of the village.
Intelligence networks, with the help and assistance of various clans, were growing stronger.
Missions were reviewed, reassigned, or cancelled if the risk was too high.
Finding such poorly informed operations should have been difficult—especially after the founding of Konoha.
Yet they kept happening.
Setsuna understood it fully.
These were not misfortunes, but attempts to reduce Uchiha strength.
In Konoha, there was only one person capable of approving this many flawed missions.
One person who could redirect intelligence, overlook details, and still walk away without suspicion.
And those missions targeted Uchiha shinobi far too often to be a coincidence.
"Senju Tobirama…"
Setsuna muttered the name under his breath.
The Second Hokage of Konoha.
To the village, he was a brilliant strategist.
A sharp mind.
The trusted brother of the revered First Hokage.
But to Setsuna, Tobirama was something else entirely.
The planner of Uchiha graves.
"This will not be an assassination," Setsuna said calmly, lifting his gaze.
"This will be a mission."
Around the room, figures stepped forward, emerging silently from the shadows.
One by one, people gathered inside the room, their eyes drawn toward Elder Setsuna.
The air felt heavy.
No one spoke at first.
"Elder… Senju Tobirama is becoming far too obvious now," Uchiha Kagen finally said, his voice tight with anger as he looked at Setsuna.
"He isn't even trying to hide his hatred for the Uchiha clan anymore."
"He treats us like fools," Uchiha Fuyuna added, stepping forward.
"As if we have no choice but to swallow his lies."
Around them, others clenched their fists.
In many of their families, members had gone missing during missions.
No bodies.
No confirmation.
Not even the certainty of death.
And every time they demanded answers from the Hokage's office, the response was the same—cold, distant, and empty.
Wrong intelligence.
Unavoidable circumstances.
Unidentified causes.
Setsuna watched Kagen and Fuyuna closely, the anger on their faces impossible to miss.
"Don't worry," he said calmly.
Too calmly.
"This ends today. Missions like these will no longer stain our clan, and the one responsible will pay the price."
The room grew quieter.
Setsuna slowly looked at every shinobi and kunoichi present before continuing.
"After the founding of the village, we chose to forget our hatred for the Senju clan. We even refused to follow Patriarch Madara when he left, believing that peace was finally within reach."
He paused and turned his gaze back to Kagen.
"But we were wrong," Setsuna continued.
"It was only us who abandoned vengeance.
The Senju never did. And for that mistake… our people are suffering."
Kagen's eyes burned red.
His brother had been missing for days now—no trace, no proof of life or death.
Every memory of the Hokage's cold replies reignited the fury in his chest.
"Tobirama believes that because he is Hokage, he can do anything," Kagen said harshly.
"Under the excuse of wrong intelligence, failed missions, or any ridiculous reason, he hides his true goal—killing Uchiha shinobi to satisfy his personal vendetta."
Setsuna turned to face the gathered Uchiha once more.
"Today," he said slowly, "the same explanation will become his reality. Tobirama is at the border now. According to our intelligence, he will return to the village tomorrow."
A faint, dangerous silence followed.
"But he will not return," Setsuna continued.
"We will turn his journey into an unidentified attack.
Tomorrow, there will be no Second Hokage arriving alive—only a cold corpse."
"This," he said quietly, "will be our revenge."
Fuyuna looked at him carefully.
"Elder… the intelligence is clear, right? There's no mistake? We cannot afford to underestimate Senju's cunning brain."
Setsuna met his gaze without hesitation.
"Don't worry. I am more concerned about this than anyone here," he said.
"Remember—this is not revenge alone. This is a mission for the future of our clan."
"There is no mistake we can afford to make."
Setsuna's gaze was cold, resolute—his mind already decided.
"Only elites will accompany me. We will stop Tobirama and his squad from returning to the village—at any cost."
He swept his eyes across the Uchiha shinobi and kunoichi present.
"Prepare yourselves. We meet again at the village entrance in one hour."
Silence followed.
Some exchanged uneasy glances.
Others lowered their eyes, already understanding what this mission truly meant.
One by one, they left the room.
"Take Raizen with us."
The words cut through the air.
Kagen turned toward Fuyuna as he spoke.
She froze, staring at him in disbelief.
"Why would you want Raizen to be part of this mission?" she demanded, anger flashing in her eyes.
"Believe me," Kagen replied flatly.
"Only battles like this awaken the Sharingan."
He clenched his fist.
"He needs to understand what it truly means to live as an Uchiha."
"Kagen," Fuyuna snapped, "Raizen is only thirteen. An elite genin—that is already more than enough."
Her voice shook.
"This isn't the Warring States Period."
Uchiha Renzo, who had been walking behind them, stopped and turned.
"She's right," he said firmly. "What you're doing is wrong."
Kagen halted.
Slowly, he looked at Renzo
"The Senju have already made their position clear," he said coldly.
"For the Uchiha, it will always be the Warring States Period."
His voice lowered.
"Nothing has changed. We're just living in a fantasy—believing that if Tobirama dies, our good days will come."
He shook his head once.
"They won't. Not now. Not ever."
Kagen's eyes hardened.
"I'm preparing my son for the future ahead. So that when the illusion breaks, it won't be too late for him."
Renzo fell silent.
After a moment, he sighed softly.
"Kagen," he said, walking beside him, "anything can happen on a mission like this."
His voice was low, careful.
"Senju Tobirama—and the people under him—won't hesitate. Not even against a child."
Renzo glanced at Kagen, then briefly at Fuyuna.
"I just don't want you to make a mistake," he continued, "one that the two of you will spend the rest of your lives regretting."
Kagen and Fuyuna heard his words clearly.
For Fuyuna, as a mother, they struck painfully close to the truth.
Her steps slowed, doubt flickering in her eyes.
Kagen did not stop.
"I won't regret it," he said firmly.
His tone left no room for argument.
"My father prepared me for this world," Kagen continued.
"And now I'm doing the same for my son."
His decision was already made.
No one was going to change it.
They reached their home as dusk settled over the compound.
Raizen was already there—standing beside Shinka.
Renzo's steps slowed as his eyes fell on his daughter.
At just twelve years old, she had already reached the level of a peak jōnin.
Pride flickered briefly across his face.
And then unease followed.
Kagen noticed his expression.
"If we fail today," Kagen said quietly, "the Senju won't stop."
He turned to Renzo, his voice firm, unyielding.
"They will keep crushing our clan's geniuses—again and again. That much is certain."
Kagen's eyes hardened.
"Whether you believe it or not, Renzo… we have no choice left."
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