Fugaku's face went iron-blue, but his back was slick with cold sweat.
He understood it perfectly: if he mishandled today, his authority as Clan Head would take a direct hit.
But here was the problem—
Every accusation Uchiha Jhin raised, Fugaku couldn't answer.
After a long stretch of silence, Fugaku finally ground out, teeth clenched, "The clan's small compromises are to help the Uchiha integrate into Konoha!"
"And the results?" Jhin shot back. "Have we integrated into Konoha?"
Fugaku's voice died in his throat.
He had no achievements to show. He'd tried. Furthermore, he'd endured his entire life. And what had it bought?
Only a village that pressed harder and harder.
He had reasons ready—too many. But he couldn't bring himself to say them out loud.
So he inhaled, then forced his voice cold.
"Uchiha Jhin—you're too young."
"You don't understand how complex the situation is. But considering your age, I won't argue with you further."
"Now. Let's discuss the main issue."
He retreated, even while grinding his teeth.
Fugaku knew he couldn't win a war of words with Jhin, so he chose the only move left—switch the topic, lay out the clan's current troubles, and ask everyone to "get through it together."
Jhin's expression didn't change.
Fugaku backed down, so Jhin lowered his flag too.
A cornered enemy shouldn't be chased—Jhin understood that.
So he went silent and refused to join the meeting's discussion.
The radicals followed his lead.
The radical faction's style had changed completely since Jhin took power. They had no interest in meetings now. Jhin made arrangements, and they moved—simple as that.
This kind of wrangling and procedure?
They despised it.
If Jhin hadn't decided to attend today, the radicals probably wouldn't have shown up at all.
…
With Fugaku presiding, people began offering opinions.
"We should discuss this with the Hokage."
"Right. We can't act recklessly."
"The Uchiha's situation is delicate. We must be even more cautious going forward."
"I agree. We should handle it through consultation."
Softliners and moderates spoke one after another.
The atmosphere became harmonious.
Because the radicals weren't speaking, there was no arguing—no shouting—no pressure. Everything looked peaceful.
And that was exactly why it felt wrong.
Everyone in the Naka Shrine felt it—this strange, uneasy mismatch.
A clan meeting without fighting was so rare that people didn't know what to do with their hands.
Even Fugaku found it uncomfortable. He cleared his throat.
"Elder Jhin… what is the radicals' opinion?"
"No opinion," Jhin replied flatly. "We agree."
Mouths twitched all around the shrine.
Just like that?
Agree?
Was this really the radicals?
Shisui frowned, straightforward as ever, and asked bluntly, "What are you plotting?"
"Plot?" Jhin gave a small, disdainful laugh. "You're underestimating me."
"I've never needed plots. I don't even respect that kind of trick."
He leaned back slightly, voice calm enough to chill.
"But since you want to know—fine. I'll tell you."
"I'm not objecting because the radicals' territory is a fortress. No matter how messy the outside becomes, it can't touch us."
"So why would I step into your rotten problems?"
He smiled.
"I want you to stay stupid."
"I want more three-tomoe Uchiha elites to die."
"Until your corpses get carried onto Root's dissection tables, and your three-tomoe Sharingan get implanted into Danzō's arm—"
"The more your elites die, the more frightened your supporters become."
"And when fear grows deep enough, they'll come running into the radicals' arms on their own."
"That's a good thing for me. Why would I oppose it?"
Jhin's face stayed composed, his tone as level as ever.
Yes—an open scheme.
He had no interest in back-alley conspiracies. An honest, straightforward trap traveled farther.
And just like this, he spoke the truth out loud.
Even if they knew his plan… what could they do?
With the softliners' and moderates' stupidity, they would still walk straight down the path he laid out:
Trust the village, refuse to defend, and lose more people.
Then their faction would crumble—and the rest of the clan would drift to the radicals on its own.
And reality proved it.
The moment Jhin finished, the softliners' and moderates' faces turned ugly.
Shisui slammed the table, furious. "Uchiha Jhin, you—"
"Am I wrong?" Jhin asked, eyes cold. "Are you going to resist?"
"Don't make me laugh. You don't have the guts."
"And if you do resist, you become radicals yourselves."
"But if you choose to trust Hiruzen Sarutobi—perfect. You fall straight into my plan."
"Either way, I don't lose."
Jhin's words settled like frost.
The Naka Shrine fell into dead silence.
Everyone had to admit it.
Jhin's methods were terrifying.
Even knowing the trap, there was no clean way out.
After a long pause, Shisui finally forced the words out through clenched teeth. "I believe in the Hokage. Your plan won't succeed."
"Sure," Jhin said with a shrug. "Whatever makes you happy."
…
Fugaku stayed silent for a long time, mind spinning fast enough to burn.
But it was useless.
Copy the radicals and fortify the clan's defenses?
He couldn't do it.
Keep things as they were?
Then more elite clansmen would die—and he'd be handing victory to Jhin.
Unlike Shisui's naive faith, Fugaku understood Root's cruelty. He understood Danzō's filth.
The hunting of Uchiha elites in the shadows wouldn't stop, because if Jhin was right, then three-tomoe Sharingan were a necessity for Danzō.
Talking with Hiruzen?
Fugaku didn't expect anything.
If talking worked, the clan wouldn't have rotted into this state in the first place.
And the most maddening part was this:
It didn't touch the radicals.
They'd already walled themselves off. Root couldn't just stroll in and take what it wanted.
So what now?
Fugaku realized he couldn't "smooth it over" anymore.
In the past, he would've stalled again. This meeting would've ended unresolved, like always.
But this time—he couldn't.
Because if he kept stalling, more and more clansmen would defect to the radicals.
And eventually, he wouldn't be Clan Head at all.
No.
Absolutely not.
Uchiha Jhin was too extreme. If he became Clan Head, the Uchiha would truly be finished.
Don't panic.
There has to be a way.
Fugaku's jaw tightened. He forced himself to think—harder, faster—until his thoughts turned raw.